Zghon ValZghon sat stark naked in lopus pose overlooking the treetops of the Vithsuvian moon’s jungle, his jungle. It was without a doubt the most pristine property he had seen in the multiverse, let alone had the good fortune of owning. It was beautiful. That was one reason he had decided to acquire it and have his stronghold built here. If there was a single place Zghon could call home this was probably it. Well top three anyway. What was this? House number seven? He couldn’t quite remember.

Well, It’s not like he’d be using that place on K’jarkanus anytime soon. That had been a right shame getting burned out of that system like he did. Oh well, a little notoriety usually did wonders for resale value. I mean who wouldn’t want to live in the old home of The Infamous Interstellar Assassin and sometimes Bounty-hunter Zghon ValZghon. He laughed bawdily to himself. He loved his name. He loved a lot of things about himself. You knew you had really “arrived” when inhabitants of most of the core systems knew of you by a singular name.

He made a mental note to call his real-estate agent soon, he could already have some offers on the table. If he played his cards right he might even be able to get enough to buy one of those tiny little planetoids somewhere near the galactic core. That’s where the really juicy clients were. Plus it would be conveniently close for core-jumping.

But then again, cores were Oh so hectic. Everyone was so high-strung- whacked out on stims all the time, no doubt. They could be fun places to visit but he never liked to stay there for long.

Of course if he really wanted one of those places he could simply buy it outright, money was no object once you reached his status. But that route didn’t possess the same thrill of the hunt. Much better to wait until a nice juicy politician with a nice pad was up on the hit list, do the killing there (and make a really messy job of it) then buy the place on the cheap after the dust cleared.

“Hehehe,” he giggled with a delightful glee as he gazed out the perfectly clear dome of his observation tower and Yogatsu training room. The small flock of Razervained Tetradactyls decided they were done with the Pincerboar carcass and took off. The next links in the food chain stepped into the ring and began their deadly fight for dinner. Zghon breathed in the night air- it had been scrubbed and altered slightly for smell by his home’s purification system but it still had that jungle “freshness” to it.

Of all his homes and hideouts (not to mention choice camp sites and whatnot) this was the one he would feel worst about loosing if and when that day came. He had put so much thought and design into it. His house/fortress/tower-of-power had been carefully constructed exactly on the edge of the Insanity Bluffs overlooking the treetops. He had exceptional visibility from up here and the wrap around porches were amazing.

Plus he was only one good rock-climb from a small hike down into the Vithsuvian Jungle. That had been the ultimate selling point on this place. Just about every single living thing in that jungle was lethal to humanoids. Zghon loved it. No better way to stay sharp than his daily strolls through the Vithsuvian Jungle. Speaking of which, maybe he’d bring nothing but his new shrapinazor on his walk today. He was feeling pretty good with it at the range.

“Mmm,” that might be nice, he thought to himself. It was beautiful here, all those vivid glowing colors that screamed “keep away” to anything with color detecting apparatus. Plus he had come across some amazing new toxins. He’d sell them to one of the pharmaceutical conglomerates or another eventually but he wasn’t quite done having his own fun with them first. Zghon made a mental note to feed the scorpiders later on- cannibalistic little buggers.

“Tong-ting” sounded the chime.

“What is it now?” They always caught him when he was deep in meditation, planning his next amazing conquest.

“Priority one transmission from the outer reaches,” said the computer’s poorly synthesized voice.

“Origination?” he asked.

“Near the Massive Coralateral Rift in the Remellian arm of the Newtopian Galaxy three-thirty-nine.”

“Go ahead,” he said.

“News story mentioning target number 2 picked up by local news repeater. Probability of a match rating estimated between twenty-five and thirty-seven percent.” the computer voice droned. Twenty-five percent or better! That high a probability would get the Big Guy’s dander up for sure.

“Any visuals?”

“Affirmative, one low rez vid taken of subject.”

“On screen, video only.”

The brief footage showed a young stick thin girl getting wrapped up in a blanket and helped into a medical transport. She looked up at the camera right as she was stepping into the vehicle.

“Shite. It’s her.” He said ponderously. “Computer, back up video ten seconds and resume playback.” The video replayed. “Pause,” Zghon said a few seconds later. It was the girl alright, there was no denying it. She had her mothers eyes. Shite though, Remellian arm, he hadn’t expected that. Most galactic arms had a pit. Pretty much the whole Remellian arm was a pit. Not much good came from there and it could get pretty spooky out in the fringes. If she’d been out there for long then she’d already been through the ringer.

He sighed. Oh well, at least it was easier to move about out there, not much in the way of police. There were a few factions that made some attempt at “peace-keeping” with vastly differing levels of fanaticism and corruption, but none were fast enough or had adequate forces to cover all the vastness of uncivilized space. He’d be able to zip around freely for the most part.

Zghon would be glad to get this particular debt off his shoulders. And who knew, maybe this would be the job that would finally do him in. He smiled inwardly with wry contempt.

“Alright, time to go to work!” He clapped his hands and pushed them down into the ground lifting his crossed legs. He twisted his arms outward while carefully bringing his legs though and between, keeping them no more than 2 tinches from the ground. He slowly pointed his toes up at the sky and arched his back while holding the handstand. He pushed up with his arms and then brought his legs down one at a time and lifted his torso.

“Ok Computer, get the ship prepped- full kit, and start calculating for best arrival time to Zeta Lanis Prime.”

“Working, working” came the electronic reply. “Ideal departure course calculated. Ship will be ready to launch in 1 norb, 22 innits.”

“Ok good,” Zghon replied. Perfect! It looked like he would get his afternoon stroll in after all.