Prologue: Indestructible
The galaxy is a big place for those who live normal lives. There are so many different planets with so many different races, each working in harmony. On the surface, it would seem to be perfect as the prejudice of the past has been left there. Every species knows their place and works together to form the perfect machine of efficiency.
The galaxy is not, however, a big place for certain people. That is, people who find themselves driven from the light of a normal life. Should you dig deep enough, you will find that this golden paradise is actually gilded, and underneath that you will know only rot. Rot which teeters on the edge of open war and ruination for all, with humanity at its center.
New Shanghai, near the borders of Independent Human Space.
Standard Earth Calendar 03/02/2865
On a planet near the edge of independent human space, there sat a boy wrapped up in a wet and ragged hooded cloak. He could always be found here, sitting and waiting. Some would approach him and offer help and others would leave money, but most did not even look his way.
Dampened by the wet night before, the hood started to dry in the hot sun beating down on it from over the skyscrapers. To him, the sun was a timer ticking down to his objective. One face would walk here soon; he always did.
He kept his own face hidden under his dirty cloak and watched the people walk by, studying their facial expressions. Happy faces, stressed faces, laughing and angry, he watched them all. So many different alien races with so many different features. Some were normal humans, but others had mechanical features, reptilian scales, arachnid type mouths, and so many more. He could read them, despite these alien appearances.
They were so very expressive, but he could only guess as to why they made these faces. He could read them, but he knew not the reason why. Sometimes, the boy would practice these faces in a mirror. He did not know what he expected, perhaps some magical effect to make him feel what they felt. It did not succeed.
But he did not have the time to dwell on this. One face would walk these streets every day at 12:35 and go down the same alleyway. He would knock on a steel door three times, pausing between the second and third knock. The slide at the top of the door would open and he would give a password. The boy had watched him for weeks trying to learn that password, but it would change every day… until he noticed a pattern. Today, he would put his theory to the test and listen for that last password, and then he would have his mark.
The people on the street continued to stroll past, barely glancing at him today. Their goodwill from the past two weeks had dried up, and no money was left for him. They had no idea about who he really was and what he was about to do, nor did they know what the building behind him housed.
A wall was all that separated them from these hidden dangers. On the outside, it was a closed office building rising high into the sky. No one seemed to question why it was not in use, or perhaps they had come to accept its vacancy as ownership shifting from person to person, without a clear goal in mind. Except… one person did notice, and they were paying a large sum to have it and its owner shut down. The boy needed food and shelter and this job would pay for it for a time.
After a few moments, the face finally came. A man dressed in expensive and flashy clothes appeared, walking the streets with his head held high with his fingers in his pocket. The boy quickly surmised that he held no weapons on his person. Perhaps he thought himself untouchable? Egotistical, overconfident and narcissistic… these flaws can be exploited. He was easy prey.
The boy's mark behaved as he always had before. Today, however, he noticed the boy and did not bother to move around him. He gave the street urchin a kick as he went past and spat at him. It did not matter; the man failed to notice the boy guarding himself from beneath the blanket. He slipped down the alleyway, knocking on the door the same way he always had, and gave the same password he did every week.
The boy had his way in, and what was to follow was the easy part. The boy gripped the pistol he kept hidden underneath the blanket tightly and waited for his prey to enter the building. A moment later, he stood and made his own way down the alley. Glory to him on this day, as he will pile the bodies even further.
Just then, an X factor appeared - another man came. The boy had never seen him come this way before, but he stood before him now, his hand curled around an old magnum revolver hanging his belt. The stranger wore a colorful shirt, unbuttoned on the front giving a clear view of countless scars, cuts and bullets from many a battle.
They both stared each other down in that alleyway, neither making a sound. They each knew why the other was there. Open contracts always had an element of competition to them. It was inevitable for rival mercenaries to compete for profit, but this was neither the time nor place for a shootout and they both knew it.
The sounds of the city seemed to grow quieter between the two. Their senses were focused squarely upon each other. The cocking of opposing pistols was louder than anything the city could produce for them. They glared at each other like predators fighting for turf, and with no cover between them, this would be over in a second.
"You goin' in there?" the stranger finally breaks the silence with a tone that aroused hostility in the boy. The stranger's hand was still on the grip of his gun and he was watching the boy's every move, yet he was smiling a winner's grin.
The boy looked up at the stranger, his face still shrouded in wrappings. The boy could see his opponent was nothing to sneeze at. His face was that of a hardened killer – past his clean shave and neat undercut hair was the steely scent of blood. Handling him would not have been difficult, but the fight would alert his prey. His opponent knew this too.
"Ah… okay. Strong silent type. Well, I'm going in there too. How 'bout we do this one together, and kill each other over it later?" the stranger said, slowly letting go of his gun and raising both hands in the air. Despite the disarming gesture, he was no fool. They both knew how this would end if they exchanged shots before the job was done. The boy nodded curtly, and they converged together on the door.
Three knocks and a password later, they were in. The door opened in response to the confident stranger, and by the time the bouncer saw the boy, his knife had been inserted into the bouncers throat. The door shut behind them, and their work began.
The boy knew what was lurked in this building long before now. Everyone who took the contract knew. Rooms stacked wall-to-wall with drugs, cells full of cowering slaves and debtors, and oddly luxurious rooms for whores to perform their work. A foul stench of sweat, shame, and death hung in the air, but the two did not care. They moved through the building at their own pace, slaying anyone they encountered that was not already locked up or already overdosing on some unknown substance.
"How 'bout I take the lead?" the stranger offered, stepping forward and beginning down the stairwell. He did not stop for people moving towards him, unaware of his presence until it was too late. All they meant to him was three bullets. Even as he opened the door to the first floor. "I'll take this floor, and you can take the next. We'll meet up at the bottom, sound good?"
The boy did not react to any of this. He just calmly walked past him and moved on to the next floor. Two more men ran up the stairs, alarmed by the noise, and the boy jumped the railings to engage them. A knife appeared from his hood and cleanly sliced one man's jugular open, followed by a single gunshot to the temple of the other. As he left the stairwell, both bodies dropped to the floor at once.
Neither hunter cared to watch their rival's moves, and they each continued their hunt at their own pace. The stranger moved from cover to cover, shooting at any fool that moved in front of him. His reloads were lightning fast - a practiced skill from years of constant fighting. The boy, on the other hand, moved with his own grace. Impossible twists and bouncing from surface to surface kept him safe from incoming fire. Unlike the stranger, most of his kills were performed in close combat.
Every floor was the same. The stranger strolled through casually, and the boy charged. They coated the walls in blood and terrified the people they were meant to save. Slaves and whores could only scream as they watched their buyers being butchered, one after the other, like swine, and those too high to comprehend the world around them saw demons coming to claim their souls. Their screams filled the stranger with sadistic joy, while the boy remained stoic.
As they reached the final floor, the boy stood at its entrance and culled anyone coming through, waiting patiently for the stranger to join him. Their prey was safely tucked away behind a thick, reinforced steel door. Three dead guards lay on the ground outside of it, their necks cut open.
"Wow, you're still alive, kid! Surprising," the stranger said with enthusiasm. He dropped the façade quickly, however, as he came down the final flight of stairs.
"Seems like they'll be waiting for us. After you, then?" the stranger said, stepping back and performing an extravagant bow, gesturing for the boy to take the lead in a mocking imitation of a gentleman.
Scanning the door, the boy noted a single dim light above it, wires curling towards the floors above and through a square cut in the wall above it. From the cells above, among the addicts and the enslaved, was a stockpile of weapons gleaming in the distance, from which the boy took with him two grenades. He squeezed the trigger on the side of the first and tossed it through the hole.
They could hear the men behind it panic and choke as the smoke filled their vision and lungs. No one wanted to run forward and dispose of the grenade for fear of their attackers coming through the door at that moment and disposing of them. They simply let the smoke build up, cursing and taunting the two in an attempt to start the battle on their own terms. The boy would bite, certainly, but only after the smoke had filled the room completely.
After a moment, he creaked open the door, and the frightened guards opened fire. Bullets, lasers and plasma fire threw it open as the boy stood to the side and readied another grenade. This one had a timer on the side, counting down from five. The men did not relent in their counterattack. Their vision narrowed upon the doorway, and they failed to notice the grenade rolling towards them… Not until it went off, abruptly ending the noise.
It was then that the boy made his move. He jumped into the smoke, and blood shot from his victims. Five slashes, five screams, and finally five thumps were all that could be heard from within. Shrugging, the stranger entered in after him.
"Nice work, kid... Who do you work for? Have you considered joining up with another company?" he casually exclaimed, clapping his hands and grinning widely as he walked through the smoke. He did not seem to fear what the boy could do to him. His eyes looked over the boy and saw potential. The boy, however, never even looked his way.
"Well… couldn't hurt to try," the off put stranger sighed, walking past the boy with gun in hand.
He glanced around a corner and emptied his weapon down the hall, the cacophony ending with six dull thuds. The boy narrowed his eyes as he observed the stranger's work. His rival's speed was not unlike his own, far beyond what the eyes could perceive; this rival was little more than a blur of death and bullets.
They continued clearing each room one by one. The boy would draw their fire and slay the first enemies in front, and once the line of fire was cleared, the stranger would finish anyone in the rear, flanks or otherwise. After a few rooms of this they switched roles, with the excited stranger displaying his own prowess, crushing throats and gouging out eyes while the boy sliced them open from below.
They were invincible. The stranger started to feel at ease when fighting alongside the boy - a true partner in his dance of death. The blood sprayed over them like fountains, and their team play was so much more efficient than when each worked alone. The stranger knew that he had to have this boy join him… But this would not last unless he could convince him. Or perhaps…
As his train of thought trailed off, they saw their mark. The terrified man ran out in front of them with a woman, gripping her hair tightly in his fist. Once he saw the pair, he screamed, falling against a wall and holding a knife to the woman's throat. It did not, however, matter, and nor did she. No one in the room cared about the fate of a single poor soul.
The boy moved forward steadily, showing no regard for the woman's life. The stranger took aim, a red bead appearing unnoticed on the woman's chest as their mark pressed the knife to her throat. The stranger chuckled and gave the woman a saccharine smile. Her complexion went pale as her eyes grew wild in terror when she realized these men were not saviors but rabid hunters killing everything between them and the man holding her as a shield.
"Sorry miss, today just ain't your lucky day," the stranger said calmly.
A lone gunshot rang through the hall as the bullet fairly ripped through the woman's chest, hitting their prey in the lung. With a howl of agony from both, the woman fell from his grip, gasping in shock on the floor. Their prey clutched at the wall, tearing down one of the fluorescent lamps from above them as he fell. Before he could hit the ground, the boy rushed forward at a blistering pace, burying his knife in the man's eye just as another bullet tore through the other.
Much to their mutual exasperation, both hunters knew that full credit could not go to either if both weapons made a killing blow. They each had an equal share in the prize, and neither were interested in sharing.
"So, I guess that's how it is, kid. You could just walk away. I won't judge ya," he mocked the boy, twirling his magnum on his finger near his hip. "…Or, of course, you could take me up on that offer."
This second-rate murderer thinks he can keep up with me through some technological miracle? He believes himself superior, I will bury him with the rest, the boy thought savagely. He did not take kindly to being viewed as a coward.
Just as before, they stood apart from each other, gripping their weapons. The stranger looked down upon the boy with a smirk, and the boy quietly seethed beneath his cowl.
"How 'bout a little wager, kid?"
The boy did not respond. Light from the fallen lamp shone into his hood and the stranger finally could view his face. The boy's eyes threatened to engulf him into the abyss they dwelled in, and his thousand-yard stare told the stranger that this boy had seen far too much strife for his age. He just needed a guiding hand, and he'll be a perfect hunter.
"I win, and you work for me. You win? Well, you can kill me and keep the bounty. Sound good?" his gun clicked abruptly as he reloaded, quick as lightning. As before, he could not see how his rival could move so quickly, but only the result mattered anyways.
Of course, the boy did not respond, his expression stony as ever. He had no squadron anymore; his life was his own to spend as he chose. This incompetant was not the same as the other faceless masters who sought to claim him, but he would not be shackled regardless. The boy resolved long before now to show him how a real soldier fights.
The boy broke his silence with a sharp, curt nod. The stranger smiled, eyes widened in excitement. He retrieved a coin from his pocket and showed it to the boy. They both knew well what it meant… The room was still as night as he flicked the coin into the air. Neither dared look away from the other's eyes, as they knew everything would end at the clatter of the coin on concrete.
Quiet had dampened the room like a curse as the coin started to descend. The two stood nearly motionless, and the sounds of their weapons readying for battle seemed to echo like song. The click of the stranger's hammer and the scraping of the boy's knife against his own sidearm harmonized, as though they were meant to ring together.
The boy visualized it all in that split second. The stranger would shoot, and the boy would jump. He would miss, and the boy would close the distance just as he had countless times before. The boy would fire into the stranger's chest, propel himself from off the wall, and sink his blade into his victim's eye. Such was the technique he had mastered, and it would all be over in an instant. The boy revisited this scenario over and over again in his head, and he could see his victory.
As the coin finally hit the ground, a quiet ding echoed past them.
One gunshot, one quiet thump, and it was indeed over.