DISCLAIMER: I don't own Trigun or its characters... though I wish I did...

((--cries of help from Knives in my basement--MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!--))

Anywhoo, read and enjoy...and review. Praise is greatly approved, criticism (helpful, not destructive) is allowed, for I see criticism as a way for me to become a greater writer, so I can raise my already superior intelligence even higher, so all you mere mortals may see and realize that I am YOUR TRUE MASTER!!! HAHAHAHA-- ((is whacked over the head by a bunch of angry anime characters)) Okay, okay, I'm sorry! cough

Here 'tis...the masterpiece of the Master that is supreme above thee mortals!

((gets a glare))

Oh, yeah, whenever I have dashes like this: ---, it means we're switching to a different character's point of view. Sometimes I'll put .:.begin.:. or .:.end.:. and sometimes I'll be lazy and just put the lines.

Got it? Good! Now read.

"I'm gonna be an outlaw, the greatest the world has ever known!"

Everyone in the saloon who had heard turned and looked for the source of the declaration, to find it coming back to three children sitting at the bar. The announcer was a youngster in a tan cowboy hat, a white sleeveless shirt under a tan coat, dusty blue jeans and black boots, black hair cut short and ruggedly at the base of the neck, a bandana wrapped around each wrist, one white and one blue, dark brown eyes sparkling with youthful determination.

"Ha! You won't even get to petty criminal status," one of the youth's friends said with a laugh, a pretty young girl in a lavender-colored cotton dress, her eyes a bright sky-blue, hair dusty blond under a white bandana.

"Gots more of a chance then you do," the third growled, a stocky brown-haired boy in dirty blue coveralls over a grey raggedy shirt.

"Yeah, Chris is right," the first youth said. "I do have more of a chance than you do, m'dear."

"That's only 'cause--" the girl began, then hesitated. She lowered her voice and leaned forward and said, "That's only 'cause you're disguised as a boy, Alex."

"So?" the tomboy girl Alex snapped back. "Hey, I'll get farther like this, y'know. I'll find me a gang, start out with them first, then when I get real good, I'll dump them and go for big shot status."

The stocky boy, Chris, grinned. "Sounds good. Make sure y'do somethin' big, like a murder or robbery or somethin'."

"Of course," Alex drawled, grinning back. "It'll be real big. Maybe even bigger than a murder or a robbery?"

"Bigger 'n' that? What could that be?" the girl, named Kara, asked, looking suspicious.

"I dunno, maybe I'll hijack a sandsteamer or wipe out a town or somethin'," she answered with a shrug, stretching back on the little stool, eyes alight with visions of greatness...well, greatness in the outlaw's style.

"So, how'ya gonna get outta this dump?" Chris asked, sipping his glass of lemonade the bartender had gotten them.

"Next steamer comes through tomorrow," Alex said. "I've been savin' up my money from pickpocketing, and I've decided I'll take this one to April City."

None of them needed to say anything about parents. The three of them were orphans, who lived in an abandoned building at the edge of this town, Warren, getting their food from the money the picked off of people in the markets. It was a hard life, but it had developed each of them into tough little rebels, as well as giving Alex ideas to become an outlaw. That had been her dream forever; from a statement made by an enraged Kara a few years before, about the sexism of this world, she had gotten the idea of a male disguise, and had worn it ever since. Now, at twelve years of age, she was ready to take off on her plans.

"So, when you become a great an' famous outlaw, you'll come back to mock us, right?" Chris asked with a twisted smile.

"Definitely. We're family, right?" she said, smiling back. "Besides, I'm the master of mockin' you guys; even with great status, I'll still need to drop to your lowness to keep my head from gettin' too big."

Kara smiled at Alex, and the tomboy noticed her friend's watery eyes. "Don't get shot, a'right, Al?" Kara asked.

"I won't, be sure of that. 'Sides, if I did, I know you'd get upset and find me in hell and kill me again, right?"

The girl smiled with a chuckle and wiped her eyes. The three friends finished their drinks, then headed out for the last night of being a trio and causing rebellious mayhem.

They stood at the edge of the city the next morning, as many others rushed past them heading to the sandsteamer waiting nearby. Chris pulled out a knife and made a gash in his palm, and Kara and Alex did likewise. The three put their hands in together, as their blood mingled and dripped upon the sand, causing little spouts of steam to rise up. Kara blinked away tears as they pulled back, and Alex hugged her, then took her arm. She grabbed the white bandana sticking from Kara's pocket and wiped up the blood of herself and the others in her palm with it, then folded it up neatly and handed it to Kara.

"Together forever," Alex whispered. She shouldered the small worn leather bag, filled with her small money and some food, that was her only true possession besides her clothing, and headed towards the sandsteamer. She made sure not to look back at the others until she was a good distance away, so they didn't notice her tears in her eyes. Standing by the sandsteamer, she looked back at them, and waved with the bloodied hand. She watched them wave back, heatwaves surrounding them like ghostly essences, and then she turned away, handing the ticket she had bought that morning for third class to the guard and climbing aboard.

"This is the last time I'll see my Warren again, and my only family," she whispered, and wiped her eyes. Then she smiled, and went to find her room.

Ta-da! My first fic-chapter! Rate and review, please...
Give me love, give me criticism, give me hate, just give me somethin' to sing about :)

-Wolf