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The planet Zi. A planet solar systems away. Once a fertile planet, at the top of the governmental ranking, it was failing. Miserably. 50 percent of the planet was water, 10 percent beautiful, luscious green jungles and forests. The only other land was rocky, dry, brown jaded cliffs and caverns. The air smelled lightly of ammonia, sulfur, and clear, pure air. It was a smell Jack Sisqo hoped not to return to for a long time.
Jack Sisqo, the famous mercenary listened to his music, mostly new rap. The sun glistened above the sonic-jet he was traveling in. The deep blue sky was everywhere. He barely paid attention to the scenery; he was involved with his music.
That was one of Sisqo's few pleasures, simply listening to music. The 6' 2" outlaw was headed to the continent Zeke, otherwise known as the "Refugee Colony". There was a war going on now. A painstaking world war. The factions were simple: There were the Imperials, the rebels, loners and the Patriots.
Let's see, the Imps, the main force here, the royal force sent by the government for their own corrupt ways. The Rebels; dirty gangster scum. I doubt they stand a chance. The loners: the ones willing to give anyone a chance for the right payment. Sisqo allowed a thin smile to emerge from his thin lips. There was no breeze for his light green-blue hair to wave in, to ruffle his clothes. He was going to miss that from the warring continents. He killed the transmitter, turning off the music.
He leaned back in his seat, first class with some cheap leather, not what he'd expected. His legs stretched. All of this was his thinking, none instinct or drowsiness. That rarely happened, and when it did… Jack reminded himself not to think about that.
He lost the smile. It's going down. He sighed. The Patriots. As far I'm concerned, they might as well kiss my a**. That was very sad, because Jack respected them more than any other group. They want to become the new government, a full democracy. No.
The war had started five years ago, when members of the royal government believed that their society was becoming corrupt. That led to espionage, scandals, and worst off, death.
Sisqo stared out of the window, watching the birds flock together in summer's breeze. Soon, so soon he would be gone from a world of hatred. Or so it seemed. Sisqo had been here before, and the underground was like a h**lhole. It was dark, wet and shady characters were everywhere. He had lost his first Zoid to a mafia crime leader in a polka game. He didn't regret it though, as it led him to something much better.
Lightning Psyches. He had to admit that the Psyches was a work of art that had saved his life more than once. Things could only get worse from here. Jack decided that things needed to spiral down, but it wouldn't be that simple for him.
By now the sleek and shiny space plane had come to it's decent. The windows automatically opened, and he could smell fresh, moist air. There was a light rain, and things looked quite grim. Sisqo pulled out a cigerrette from his pants pocket, and began to light it when a stewardess rose towards him.
"Excuse me sir, but there is no smoking allowed on the plane." The blonde looked at him. He simply glanced and
The planet Zi. A planet solar systems away. Once a fertile planet, at the top of the governmental ranking, it was failing. Miserably. 50 percent of the planet was water, 10 percent beautiful, luscious green jungles and forests. The only other land was rocky, dry, brown jaded cliffs and caverns. The air smelled lightly of ammonia, sulfur, and clear, pure air. It was a smell Jack Sisqo hoped not to return to for a long time.
Jack Sisqo, the famous mercenary listened to his music, mostly new rap. The sun glistened above the sonic-jet he was traveling in. The deep blue sky was everywhere. He barely paid attention to the scenery; he was involved with his music.
That was one of Sisqo's few pleasures, simply listening to music. The 6' 2" outlaw was headed to the continent Zeke, otherwise known as the "Refugee Colony". There was a war going on now. A painstaking world war. The factions were simple: There were the Imperials, the rebels, loners and the Patriots.
Let's see, the Imps, the main force here, the royal force sent by the government for their own corrupt ways. The Rebels; dirty gangster scum. I doubt they stand a chance. The loners: the ones willing to give anyone a chance for the right payment. Sisqo allowed a thin smile to emerge from his thin lips. There was no breeze for his light green-blue hair to wave in, to ruffle his clothes. He was going to miss that from the warring continents. He killed the transmitter, turning off the music.
He leaned back in his seat, first class with some cheap leather, not what he'd expected. His legs stretched. All of this was his thinking, none instinct or drowsiness. That rarely happened, and when it did… Jack reminded himself not to think about that.
He lost the smile. It's going down. He sighed. The Patriots. As far I'm concerned, they might as well kiss my a**. That was very sad, because Jack respected them more than any other group. They want to become the new government, a full democracy. No.
The war had started five years ago, when members of the royal government believed that their society was becoming corrupt. That led to espionage, scandals, and worst off, death.
Sisqo stared out of the window, watching the birds flock together in summer's breeze. Soon, so soon he would be gone from a world of hatred. Or so it seemed. Sisqo had been here before, and the underground was like a h**lhole. It was dark, wet and shady characters were everywhere. He had lost his first Zoid to a mafia crime leader in a polka game. He didn't regret it though, as it led him to something much better.
Lightning Psyches. He had to admit that the Psyches was a work of art that had saved his life more than once. Things could only get worse from here. Jack decided that things needed to spiral down, but it wouldn't be that simple for him.
By now the sleek and shiny space plane had come to it's decent. The windows automatically opened, and he could smell fresh, moist air. There was a light rain, and things looked quite grim. Sisqo pulled out a cigerrette from his pants pocket, and began to light it when a stewardess rose towards him.
"Excuse me sir, but there is no smoking allowed on the plane." The blonde looked at him. He simply glanced and