SKIP TRACE

PART 1: SETUP

Opening Scene

The neon lights of Procyon Station's underbelly flickered against the rain-slicked metal walkways. Mack Reeves pressed his back against the cold wall, his breath creating small clouds in the chilled recycled air. Around the corner, Dugan Voss—a smuggler with a penchant for exotic bioweapons—was negotiating with a buyer, blissfully unaware that a bounty had been placed on his head last week.

Mack checked his chrono-band. The skip-recharge indicator glowed green—ready. He had one shot at this, one minute to use perfectly. Listening to the muffled conversation, he waited for his moment.

"The merchandise is prime quality," Dugan was saying. "Straight from the Caliban labs. Worth every credit."

Perfect. The transaction was about to happen. Mack took a deep breath, pressed his finger against the skip-trigger on his wrist, and felt the familiar lurch in his stomach as reality shifted.

The world blurred, colors stretching into streaks of light, and then—

He was standing in the same spot, but everything had changed. Dugan was now shaking hands with the buyer, a small case between them. Mack had precisely fifty-three seconds left of the minute he'd skipped.

"Dugan Voss," Mack called out, stepping into view with his stunner raised. "Fancy meeting you here."

The buyer bolted immediately. Dugan reached for his weapon, but Mack had already anticipated this—he'd planned his skip for exactly this moment, knowing exactly where Dugan's hand would be.

"I wouldn't," Mack said casually, already moving to intercept. "Your reputation said you were faster."

"Reeves," Dugan spat. "Skip-tracing scum."

Mack smiled, slapping restraints onto Dugan's wrists with practiced ease. "That's what the job title says. You're worth fifteen thousand credits to the Procyon authorities. Something about illegal bioweapons?"

"You cheated," Dugan growled. "Using a skip on a simple arrest is overkill."

"Not cheating," Mack corrected, securing the smuggler's weapons. "Strategic temporal resource allocation. And now I know exactly what you'll say for the next forty seconds, which makes you very boring company."

World Building

The central processing station of Procyon hummed with activity as Mack guided his captive through security checkpoints. Officials in crisp uniforms nodded respectfully as he passed—skip-tracers weren't exactly law enforcement, but in the outer colonies where proper police presence was thin, they were the next best thing.

"Reeves! Back so soon?" called a gruff voice. Station Chief Priya Lin approached, her augmented eye scanning Dugan automatically. "That's three this month. Getting faster, aren't you?"

"Just getting pickier about my skips," Mack replied, handing over the prisoner documentation. "One minute a day makes you choose your moments carefully."

Priya's terminal pinged as it processed Dugan's bounty transfer. "Fifteen thousand credits, minus station fees. Not bad for an afternoon's work."

"The station fees get higher every month," Mack observed, watching the numbers settle.

"Skip-dampening grid doesn't maintain itself," Priya shrugged. "Can't have criminals using their daily minute to escape custody, can we?"

After processing was complete, Mack headed back to his ship, the Afterthought—a modified light freighter that served as both his home and office. The boarding ramp descended at his approach, internal systems lighting up as he entered.

"Home sweet home," he muttered, tossing his jacket onto a chair. The main cabin was cluttered but functional: tactical displays, communication arrays, and his pride and joy—a custom skip-trace analytics system that he'd pieced together over the years.

"Display active bounties," he called out, dropping into his worn pilot's seat. The system hummed to life, projecting holographic profiles of wanted individuals throughout the sector.

Skip technology had changed everything when it was invented fifteen years ago. The ability for each person to jump forward exactly one minute, once per day, had been marketed as a convenience—skip through boring meetings, avoid awkward encounters, get a head start on competitors. Nobody had anticipated how it would transform crime.

Security systems had to be redesigned to account for temporal displacement. Relationships became complicated when one partner skipped a crucial minute of conversation. And criminals—criminals had found endless creative uses for that single minute.

That's where skip-tracers like Mack came in. Using their own skip ability strategically against those who abused theirs.

His system chimed with an incoming communication. Mack swiveled his chair and accepted the call.

The New Assignment

The holographic display flickered, resolving into the image of Juno Keyes—his regular handler from the Colonial Bounty Guild. As always, she looked immaculate, her silver hair pulled back sharply, expression all business.

"Reeves," she greeted him. "Congratulations on Voss. Clean work."

"Clean enough," Mack replied. "What's next? Please tell me it's not another bioweapon smuggler. The last one leaked something that made my sinuses burn for a week."

Juno's expression remained serious. "I'm sending you something special. Top priority from the Guild. The bounty..." she paused, checking her notes, "is substantial. Two million credits."

Mack nearly choked. "Two mil? That's retire-to-paradise money. What did this person do? Assassinate a planetary governor?"

"Industrial espionage, technology theft, destruction of corporate property," Juno listed. "The target is Vex Korba."

The name triggered immediate recognition. In skip-tracer circles, Korba was something of a legend—always a step ahead, never caught, despite substantial bounties.

"Korba? Nobody's been able to catch her for three years," Mack said. "What makes the Guild think I'll have better luck?"

"Because you're the best," Juno replied without flattery. "And because we have new intelligence. Korba has been sighted in your sector, hitting research facilities owned by Chronos Industries."

The file transferred to Mack's system, displaying a blurry security image of a lithe woman with sharp features and calculating eyes. According to the file, she'd stolen experimental technology from three different Chronos labs.

"There's something else," Juno added, her voice dropping slightly. "We have reports—unconfirmed—that Korba has somehow figured out how to skip multiple times per day."

Mack frowned. "That's impossible. The neurological burnout would kill someone."

"That's the official science," Juno agreed. "But four different tracers have reported seeing her skip twice in rapid succession. All four failed to bring her in."

Mack studied the file more closely. "Where are those four tracers now?"

Juno's expression tightened. "Two retired suddenly. One disappeared. The fourth is in a medical facility with unexplained temporal sickness."

"Sounds delightful," Mack muttered. "Any leads on where to start?"

"She hit the Chronos facility on Europa last week. The pattern suggests she might target their research division on Procyon next."

Mack nodded slowly, already formulating a plan. "Send me everything you have on Chronos Industries and their research. If I'm hunting someone who can allegedly skip multiple times, I need to know what I'm walking into."

"Already done," Juno said. "One last thing, Reeves—Chronos specifically requested you for this job. They've been watching your success rate."

"Flattering," Mack said, not entirely meaning it. Corporate attention was rarely a good thing in his experience.

After Juno signed off, Mack leaned back in his chair, staring at Vex Korba's profile. Two million credits was life-changing money. But a target who could potentially skip multiple times? That changed the entire game.

"Looks like we're going corporate hunting," he said to the empty ship, beginning to plot a course to the Chronos research facility. If Korba was going to hit it, he'd be there waiting—with his one precious daily skip ready for the perfect moment.