A Terran's Justice

Fight fire with fire

Angel's Kiss hovered above the ground for a few seconds before Charles cut out the repulsor vents and the freighter lowered itself to the ground. Mechanis Two was home to some of the largest drone factories in the galaxy, but the landscape was harsh and grey, with little nature left to show. Sebastian pressed the button to lower the entrance ramp of his ship and made his way down toward the warehouse. Warehouses like this one dotted the landscape of Mechanis Two. When the foundries had built enough drones, they shipped them off to one of the square, grey, buildings to await pickup. Sebastian was flanked by his Krakor bodyguards, the remainder of his crew remaining behind on the vessel. A light drizzle of probably-acidic rain splashed onto his armour, but he paid it no heed as he walked toward the entrance to the warehouse. One of the janitors was waiting for him at the door.

“Greetings Mr. Sharrack,” the Xenoct man said as he fiddled with the lock. “Your order arrived last night. One hundred X7 series combat drones as promised.”

“Good,” Sebastian replied as the old doors creaked open, letting the pale industrial lighting spill out into the grey night.

“There’s some stuck up fellow from The Order here to see ya,” the janitor added as he led the way into the warehouse.

“Wonderful,” Sebastian muttered. The warehouse was a dull grey, and was rather small. The Janitor continued down a small corridor and into a large room. Sitting in the centre was a massive crate, full of the battle drones.

“If you need anything, I’ll be out back taking out the garbage,” the Xenoct added as he made his way back toward the entrance. Sebastian made his way over to the large box and peered inside. Sure enough, one hundred battle drones stood there, ready to go.

“I trust everything is alright,” a soft voice hissed from somewhere behind him. Sebastian turned to see an Azrael man wearing the traditional black robes of The Order strolling toward him, arrogance oozing with every step.

“Looks like it,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Excellent, let’s walk.” The cleric did not pose it as a request.

“You two,” Sebastian pointed to the Krakors, “See to it that this crate is loaded onto Angel’s Kiss safely.” He really emphasised the word safely.

“Yes Boss,” they replied in unison, going off to look for a repulsor lift. Sebastian walked toward the Cleric, who in turn walked toward the exit.

“I am Harash’ak, of the black harvest,” he began in his arrogant hiss of a voice. “The Order sent me to ensure that you execute the operation to our finest specification.”

“Alrighty your holiness,” Sebastian responded.

“Furthermore,” Harash’ak continued, “Before you act on anything, you must consult me first. Will that be a problem?”

“Shouldn’t be.”

“Splendid. Now, please escort me to your ship, I wish to address your crew.”

“Right this way…”

Nightbringer hurtled through space, Francis sitting at the controls. Azaz’kul was sitting next to him whilst Jacque and Hannibal sat in the two passenger seats behind them.

“Now we have our little band, we should head for the Azargian town,” Azaz’kul said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Francis replied, tapping a key on the console and summoning a large map of the known universe.

“Wait a sec,” Jacque cut in, “Us four are not gonna be much of a threat to Sebastian and his gang. Even with Hannibal’s programming, your space magic, and Francis’s military training.”

“I thought that was why I was tolerating your company,” Azaz’kul countered.

“What do you mean?” Jacque asked.

“You said you can deal with his robotic soldiers, or was I mistaken?”

“Sebastian has more than just robotic soldiers,” Jacque replied. “Trust me, you hear a lot of stuff in taverns.”

“So what are we looking at?” Francis asked.

“He leads a small gang of marauders. His two lieutenants are these massive Krakor brothers. These guys are big, even by Krakor standards. They owe him a life debt because he saved them from a Xaon hunting party. He also has some street trash techno-wiz that I believe is responsible from removing my triggered commands from the drones. This kid is a savant. Nothing he can’t hack, crack, or reverse-engineer. Then there are ‘the boys’. He has about two dozen hired guns who follow him around getting rich off of beating up farmers and stuff. So in short, we need more men.”

“And where do you suppose we find these men?” Azaz’kul asked critically. “Unfortunately, time is something we do not have.” Francis muttered something to himself. “If there is something you wish to add, don’t be shy.”

“The Mektra system is on our way,” Francis said.

“And?” Azaz’kul pressed.

“Well, an old friend of mine from the war moved to Mektra. Vigilante type. He hates criminals with a passion, so he moved to one of the most corrupt planets in the galaxy and set about trying to make it right, one cracked skull at a time.”

“He has the right idea,:” Azaz’kul commented.

“Anyway, he and I go right back to military academy, and if he learned that Sebastian, who is a war criminal by the way, managed to manipulate galactic law to avoid trial and is now working as muscle for hire tearing up defenceless towns… He would jump at the chance to help us.”

“Sounds like a welcome addition to our merry little band,” the Azrael woman replied, “if he has useful skills.”

“Hell yeah he has useful skills. The guy is proficient in almost all types of weaponry. Sniper rifles, shotguns, dual pistols, knifes, knows at least three martial arts. He’s a beast.”

“Very well then, how do we reach him?”

“That’s a little more difficult,” Francis said, glancing back at Jacque.

“What?” he asked.

“The wanted list on Mektra is updated years behind everywhere else,” Franics began.

“I see where this is going,” Jacque sounded a little nervous.

“Is there a problem master?” Hannibal asked.

“I hope not,” Jacque said to the drone.

“Well inform me if there is, I rather like shooting people.”

“If you’re implying that I might still be wanted on Mektra…” Jacque began, pausing to think for a second. “Yeah I probably am.”

“Okay then, here’s the plan,” Francis said, “We go to Mektra, you show your face of a little, get my friend to notice you, then when he comes to get you, Azaz’kul and I will be there to stop him and get him to join our side? Happy?”

“Not really,” Jacque replied.

“It is not your choice,” Azaz’kul.

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because I said so.”

“Master, should I kill the old hag?” Hannibal asked cheerily.

“I would like to see you try, machine!” Azaz’kul spat back.

“Enough!” Francis yelled, “We’re going to Mektra and that’s final! Jacque, if you want your half a million, shut up and go with it.” He turned his chair and punched in the coordinates for Mektra. There was a silence in the cockpit.

“I take it I won’t be getting to kill anyone today,” Hannibal said solemnly.

Mektra city was enveloped in darkness, the distant sound of hover-car traffic in the distance, and the spooky glow of streetlamps casting their pallid illumination upon the ground. Harry crouched atop the building a waited. Bellow him, in the abandoned parking lot, a big deal was going down. Two of the biggest criminal kingpins and their top thugs were negotiating a huge drug deal tonight, and Harry was just on time. He pressed himself further to the ground as a hover-car swept overhead. The transport began to descend to the ground, landing with a crash. Harry peered out over the top of the building. About six human thugs and a Krakor came out of the car. They each held some kind of semi-automatic weaponry and began to sweep the area. The Krakor yelled something to the car after a few minutes and an extremely overweight Xaon heaved himself from the vehicle. Boss Wrenda Azarkis, the most wanted crime lord in the quadrant. Harry screwed the barrel onto his sniper rifle and checked the scope. He would have a very small window in which he could take out the two crime lords before their thugs could escort them to safety. He could not afford to miss. Harry was a moderately tall human coming in at about six feet. He wore a large black trench coat that concealed his light armour and myriad weapons underneath. Harry’s head was hidden behind a featureless black mask with nothing but a visor across his eyes, the hood of his coat pulled up to further obscure his identity. He couldn’t afford for anyone to see his face or his little vigilante escapade here on Mektra would have to come to an end. Suddenly, another hover-car came soaring overhead and set itself down in the parking lot opposite Azarkis’s. Another half dozen thugs came streaming from the car, their boss close behind. This boss was a human, Zachary Kolohov. He was also wanted in a number of Terran systems, but the galactic alliance paid him little attention, meaning that he could stay out of justice’s way simply by staying in galactic alliance territories. Harry propped his rifle up onto the edge of the building and squinted through the scope. The two bosses made toward each other, their thugs heavily scrutinizing the other groups. Harry waited as they shook each other’s hands, and watched as each one ordered a thug to bring out their respective merchandise. It was at this moment that Harry zoomed right in on Kolohov and fired. A bolt of brilliant red light flashed from the barrel of his gun and streaked toward the crime lord, burning a hole right through his cranium. He fell to the floor, then all hell broke lose. The thugs began shouting and looking for the shooter. However, in the chaos, Harry lost track of Azarkis. He took aim at another thug, scorching a hole right through his chest.

“On the building!” The Krakor yelled, pointing at Harry and pulling the trigger on his gun. Laser bolts began to consume the air around him, forcing him to duck down again. He risked a look over the roof to see where Azarkis was.

“Damn it,” Harry muttered as he saw the overweight Xaon get back into the hover-car and heard the engines prime. The vigilante rummaged through his cloak until he found his ion charges. He loaded one into the sniper rifle and fired it at the car. When the charge hit the vehicle, energy lanced all over the place and shut down the hover-car before it could get away. Harry ducked down again to avoid the inevitable barrage of laser bullets that would be fired at him, loading plasma charges back into the rifle as he did so. He could hear the Krakor screaming for two of the thugs to escort Azarkis out of the area. “This is just one of those days,” he muttered as he swung his rifle back toward the group of criminals, many of which were taking cover. He fired thrice, and three of them hit the dirt. Harry looked at Azarkis, who was running off toward an alleyway, two thugs close by his side. Harry swore and ducked down again. He rummaged around for his grapple and clipped it onto the rifle. He stood up and fired, the rope flying toward the building opposite and imbedding itself there. He quickly hooked his belt to the wire and secured his sniper rifle on the roof, leaping out over the parking lot. He drew his twin pistols and began to rain laser-fire onto the thugs, punching searing holes through about four of them before they even realised what was going on. When the remaining thugs finally brought their weapons to bear, Harry drew one of his twin knifes and cut the wire, grabbing hold of the remains of the grapple and gracefully descending to the ground. He turned his plummet into a roll and got to his feet, facing off against the remaining four assailants. He charged forward, drawing his second knife as he did so. He got up to the first thug, a human, and quickly jugulated him, kicking his body back into another. Harry twirled and flipped out of the way of the laser fire and landed beside another human, slicing both his knees and sending him to the ground. He quickly sliced the man’s throat open, spilling crimson liquid all over the floor. Beside him, the last human pushed his deceased ally off of him, but before he could get to his feet, Harry leapt over his shoulders, hooked his arm around the man’s neck and pulled. He smiled as he heard the signature crack of a neck snapping. His victory was short lived however, as a massive hulk of an arm smashed into his face. Harry was sent flying as the Krakor smiled at its handiwork.

“You’re good, little man,” it grumbled, “but not good enough.” Harry picked himself up off the ground and winced, his nose felt broken. The Krakor roared and charged toward him. Harry retrieved a sticky grenade from his pocket and began to charge also. At last second, he dropped to the ground and rolled between the Krakor’s legs, reaching out and sticking the grenade to his legs as he did so. With that, Harry turned and ran toward the alley that Azarkis had escaped down.

“You coward!” The Krakor roared, an explosion following shortly behind. Harry charged down the alley at full pelt, drawing his small shotgun as he did so.

“Azarkis is slow,” he thought, “So I should catch up.” Sure enough, a few seconds later he caught sight of the fat Xaon pressed against the wall panting, the two thugs trying to persuade him to keep moving. One of the thugs noticed the speeding vigilante, but too late. Harry ran up to him, and slammed the bunt of his shotgun into the man’s shoulder, dislocating it. Before the second thug could react, he whipped the shotgun up and fired, blasting the thug into three pieces. He quickly kicked the injured thug in the head so hard his neck twisted and he lay still. Azarkis went to lumber away, but Harry slammed his foot into the Xaon’s knee, breaking it and sending the whimpering criminal to the floor.

“Who are you?” he cried.

“I’m judge,” Harry stamped on Azarkis’s fingers, “jury,” he stamped on his chest, breaking ribs, “and executioner.” He put the shotgun to Azarkis’s head.