Chapter 2

"Hurry up!" screamed Sergeant Kyle, tearing Kito away from his unhappy memories. "Lord Katse is coming to inspect the mecha! You louts have ten minutes to get ready!"

Kito took a quick look at the wiring in front of him. It looked okay. Ten minutes was just enough to give it a final check.

But it wasn't enough time for everyone to complete their assigned tasks.

"I'll need at least fifteen minutes to finish installing the secondary couplings!" protested a soldier. Kito recognized him. His name was Branson, and he was known within their unit for being a little slow, and a little whiny.

Still, Kito felt sorry for him. Sergeant Kyle wasn't exactly known for mercy.

"Finish up!" Kyle shouted, throwing his fist into Branson's jaw. "You've got ten minutes, and you'd better be done!"

Branson scrambled to work. Kito had never seen him move so fast.

Kito had just completed his task when a soldier ran in to announce that Lord Katse was coming. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, getting in line with the other soldiers of his squadron. As Lord Katse entered the room, they all stood at attention in unison, snapping their heels and thumping their fists over their hearts.

Sergeant Kyle ran up to Galactor's Overlord and bowed obsequiously.

"We are honored by your presence, Sire." he said, in an oily voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Lord Katse placed his red gloved hand on Kyle's chest, pushing the man away as if he were contaminated with filth. This form of address obviously bored the purple-garbed leader.

"I just hope that this mecha is ready!" Lord Katse announced. "Leader X is impatient to begin our latest campaign!"

"It is ready for deployment, Sire!" Kyle insisted.

Kito couldn't help staring at Lord Katse. He had only ever seen him from a distance. The standard soldier's green uniform was ugly, and utilitarian, but it was nothing like the flamboyant garb of Galactor's leader. His purple cape floated behind him when he walked, as if he were a schoolboy playing at being a superhero. His fitted jacket, gloves, and boots were stylish, but in a metrosexual sort of way. It wasn't something Kito could see himself ever wearing. And the tights… what grown man wore tights like that? Kito guessed that it went along with the 'superhero' theme that had inspired the cape.

The mask was the most bizarre part of the entire ensemble. It looked part devil, part cat, part… goat? Something with weird horns, or pointy ears. Kito wasn't sure what to make of it.

He understood the desire of Galactor to enforce a certain anonymity among its soldiers. When one was anonymous, it implied that he was a small part of a larger, more important purpose. The individual was unimportant: it was the whole, the goal, that mattered. The standard green mask, worn by the rank and file, served that purpose, making it difficult to identify individuals.

But Lord Katse's mask was not intended to blend in with the crowd. It made him stand out, adding inches to his already tall frame. Its bizarre appearance invited people to stare at it, then lower their gaze to focus on his glossy, pink lips.

Perhaps that was it. Maybe, Katse felt that if people stared at his mask, and his face, they might pay more attention to what he was saying. Not that Kito was having any trouble listening now.

His body was rigid, standing stiffly, ready to bow at a strict forty-five degree angle when their Sire passed by. Kito could hear every word Lord Katse uttered.

"Hmmm… this looks like shoddy workmanship." he was saying. "How the hell am I supposed to deliver these mecha on Leader X's schedule when I have such incompetents working for me?"

The purple cape approached, and Kito made the requisite bow, a formal greeting of "Sire" passing his lips at the exact moment the Galactor Overlord passed by. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his fellow squad members doing the same. No one wanted to catch Lord Katse's attention. The concept of anonymity among the ranks had never been so appealing, as it was now.

Branson was not so lucky.

Katse stopped, right next to Branson's station, looking at the open panel, revealing the inner workings of Galactor's latest mecha.

"Didn't you say that this mecha was ready for deployment?" snarled Katse, whirling around to look Sergeant Kyle in the eye.

"Y-yes… Sire…" Kyle stuttered, bowing to the purple mask.

Kito noticed that Branson was trembling even more than the Sergeant.

"Then, why aren't the secondary couplings wired into the energy banks?" Katse demanded, shaking his blood-red fist in Kyle's face.

"Uh…" Kyle looked around nervously. He looked desperately at his men, hoping to lay blame elsewhere.

"Who is responsible for this station?" Lord Katse shouted at the squadron.

"I am, Sire." Branson bowed low. "I didn't have enough time to finish the installation, but I will complete the task immediately, before the mecha is deployed." To his credit, his voice was steadier than Kyle's.

"No." Katse corrected him, "You won't." With an almost bored expression, he pulled Kyle's gun from its holster, pointed it at Branson and shot.

Branson fell to the floor, a smoking hole in his chest.

Kito's face blanched, and he tried his best not to stare at the lifeless body that had so recently been a Galactor soldier.

"You!" Lord Katse ordered, pointing his long, gloved finger directly at Kito, "You will finish his work."

"Yes, Sire." Kito gulped, bowing before the Galactor leader and silently cursing the day he had ever heard of Galactor.

He remembered it clearly…

88888

At thirteen, most boys were becoming men, but not Kito. He was still small, and hadn't yet filled out with a man's frame. The older he got, the more dangerous it became to not belong to some kind of 'gang' at the orphanage. As a loner, he was a target, and frequently the recipient of verbal and physical attacks from the bigger boys.

So, reluctantly, Kito had joined a gang. It was either that, or be reduced to becoming a victim, as Jun had been. Kito still thought of Jun, sometimes, and wondered where she was… how she was doing.

Of all of the groups at the Mt. Jupiter Orphanage, Kito's gang was the least likely to cause trouble, but that wasn't saying much. All of the gangs were bad news.

Kito quickly realized that despite his small size, his skill with machines was valuable. This was proven to him, one night, when his new 'friends' decided that it would be fun to go joyriding in the Administrator's car. Kito's knowledge of engines allowed him to hotwire the vehicle, and he did so, at their request.

But barely half a mile from the orphanage, they heard police sirens. Their driver, a bumbling fifteen year old with more bluff than bravado, was pulled over, and before they could blink, the lot of them were hauled off to see a judge who didn't appreciate being woken up from his nice warm bed, to preside over a middle-of-the-night proceeding from his bench.

Apparently, someone had seen the Administrator's car leaving the orphanage parking lot, and after determining that he was still in his office, the vehicle had been reported stolen. Upon learning who was responsible, the Administrator had identified all of the boys as troublemakers, and had left their fate up to the judge.

Not being of a kindly manner, the judge decided that youth and lack of prior convictions should not be taken into account, and each of the boys was sentenced to three years in juvenile detention.

Kito spent what was left of the night at the police station in a 'real' jail, scared out of his wits. In the morning, he was taken to the Komora Ridge Juvenile Detention Facility. He did not know where the other boys were taken, as he was transported by himself.

He was alone, again.

Once he got to Komora Ridge, he found the same environment that he had encountered in the orphanage, only more extreme. If a boy was not part of a gang, he was prey for everyone else. It only took Kito two days to find himself a new gang of protectors, and now Kito knew how to promote his mechanical skills to prove his usefulness to them.

It wasn't long before Kito had the reputation of being the person you went to, if you needed something fixed, or repaired. For the most part, Kito didn't think too much about what he was working on; more often than not, it was some sort of homemade weapon. As long as he wasn't on the receiving end of that weapon, it just wasn't worth it to ask questions.

One day, about three months after he had come to Komora Ridge, a guard he didn't recognize approached him.

"You're Kito Abbott, aren't you?" he asked. His tone was not threatening, but neither was it friendly.

"Yes, Sir." Kito replied, hanging his head. He didn't know why this man wanted to talk to him, but it couldn't be good.

"I've heard that you are quite handy at fixing things." the guard said. "Mechanical things."

"That's what I've been told, Sir." Kito answered, still avoiding eye contact with the guard.

"Then, I'd like you to fix something for me." the guard ordered. "Come with me."

Reluctantly, Kito followed, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. This had to be some kind of trap. But short of openly disobeying the guard, he didn't have a choice.

Kito was led to a small workroom, which was stocked with all kinds of tools, many of which Kito had never even seen. For a moment, he was tempted to start using them, to see what they could do, before he remembered where he was.

"I would like you to fix this for me." the guard said, unwrapping a large bundle.

Inside the bundle was a semi-automatic rifle.

Kito had never fixed a weapon this complicated before, but it could hardly be more difficult than building a motorcycle engine from scratch. At least, he hoped not.

Nervously, he took a deep breath, and sat down at the workbench. He examined the rifle from all angles, removing the clip, and testing it. It was obvious that one of the mechanisms was jammed.

The guard said nothing, merely watched him carefully through narrowed eyes. Kito decided that it would be best to ignore him, so that he wouldn't get any more nervous than he already was.

Carefully, he selected a few tools. They were pretty crude and simple, compared to the other items available, but they were what he was comfortable using. He didn't want to try out something new, and botch the task at hand.

Slowly, Kito took the gun apart, opening the casing, scrutinizing its inner workings. He analyzed the weapon carefully, mentally noting where each piece had come from, before he removed it.

Kito easily located the broken pieces, and was able to fix them without incident. He then meticulously put the rifle back together, checking each piece to ensure that it was in the proper position.

When he was finished, he checked the weapon, ensuring that it appeared to be in working order. He was too nervous to test it with the clip in.

The guard was not. When Kito had hesitantly pushed the rifle toward him, the man picked up the gun, replaced the clip, and shot at the opposite wall.

The shots rang out in the stillness of the room, and Kito nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound.

The guard grinned widely, and for the first time, gave Kito a friendly look.

"That's a great job!" he congratulated him. "But I just have one question."

"What's that?" asked Kito, nervously. He was uncertain what to make of the guard's change in attitude.

"Why didn't you use any of these tools?" he asked, waving his hand to indicate some of the more sophisticated items near Kito.

"I… I don't know how to use those." Kito admitted. "I've never had a chance to use tools that fancy."

"Well, we'll make certain that you're trained in their use." the guard smiled, speaking more to himself, than to Kito.

"That's all, for now." he dismissed the boy. "You can find your own way back to the Exercise Yard, can't you?"

Kito nodded, not entirely sure what had just happened. He was eager to escape this unfamiliar, and uncomfortable situation. He hoped with all of his heart that he would never have to speak with the guard again.

But the guard sought him out, the very next day.

Kito was sitting in the Exercise Yard, working on a broken radio, when the guard approached him.

"I'd like to speak with you, Kito." he said quietly.

"Okay." Kito nodded, keeping his eyes on his work.

"Not here." the guard stated. "Follow me."

Reluctantly, Kito put down his tools and the radio, and followed the guard. The other boys made sure not to look at him, lest they draw the attention of the guard.

Kito was led into a small room he had never seen before. It contained a table, some chairs, a couple of vending machines, and a few newspapers. He realized that it must be one of the guards' break rooms.

The guard indicated that Kito should sit down, and then he did the same.

"Do you like it here, Kito?" he asked the boy.

Kito wasn't sure how to answer the question. He loathed Komora Ridge, and was eager to leave. But he had more than thirty months left on his sentence, and he didn't see himself going anywhere, anytime soon. Was it a trick question? If he told the truth, would he be punished?

The guard smiled knowingly at Kito's hesitation to answer.

"I take it, by your silence, that the answer is 'no'." the guard prodded.

Slowly, Kito nodded, his eyes on the floor.

"If you'd like, I can arrange it, so that you could leave here." the guard offered.

Kito's head snapped up, staring at the guard with disbelief. How could such a thing be possible? It had to be a trick.

"I can make it happen." the guard whispered. "It's been done before, for boys with special… talents… like yours. Usually we wait for the boys to be released, but in your case, we're willing to arrange an early departure."

"Departure?" asked Kito, confused.

"I work for an organization called Galactor." the guard revealed. "We're always looking for good people, particularly those who have mechanical talents." He studied Kito carefully, gauging the boy's reaction to his words.

"You… you don't work for the State?" the boy asked, confused. He had thought that the prisons and juvenile detention facilities were run by the government.

"Well, yes." the guard laughed, although Kito didn't get the joke. "I work for them, as well. But my primary job is with Galactor." he clarified.

"If you would be willing to work for Galactor, too, then we could arrange your release, Kito." the guard said.

"What would I have to do?" Kito asked suspiciously. This sounded too good to be true.

"We would train you, with tools like the ones you saw in the workroom, yesterday." the guard replied. "We have many vehicles, and other mechanical things, in our organization. We would teach you how to build and repair them."

"So, I'd get to work with vehicles?" Kito asked, his eyes shining. He was unable to hide his excitement. "Motorcyles?"

"Yes, we have a number of motorcycles." the guard nodded. "And larger vehicles too."

But Kito didn't hear him. He would get a chance to work on motorcycles… and maybe drive them too.

"So, do we have a deal?" the guard asked. "Will you come work for Galactor?"

He could leave Komora Ridge, and work on motorcycles. Kito didn't think about it for long.

"We have a deal." he agreed, shaking the guard's proffered hand.

He didn't realize then, that he had just made a deal with the Devil.