By David C. Daoust
The Great Dragon took the losses in stride as it continued to circle overhead. Its angelic wings slicing through the desert air as easily as its minion’s weaponry sliced through the flesh below. A great shadow flowed over the Behemoth-class Heavy Freighter as the mechanical demi-god dared soar ever lower.
The dataflow was in constant return as the minions continued their gruesome mission.
As many drones as had been lost, the mission was still deemed a success.
Of the swarm– a single spider found focus, as it stripped ever more humans of their lives, their names, their stories:
Caleb Turk was yet a young man. Truth be told, his position aboard the Dirty Damsel was yet unearned. And, truth be told, the only reason he had such position was that the captain of said vessel, Dutch, had a sneaking suspicion Caleb was a bastard son of one, Bernard Vice. Unknown to Caleb, Dutch liked to try and keep track of those that may have some relation, felt that they may show some potential. Though had the gruff captain truly researched the suspicion, he would have found it false. As the mother, herself, would easily provide the true heritage, and, in fact, had never once met the big boss himself.
As it were, the only thing of note Caleb had, as of yet, accomplished, was survive that gatling-gun that had, but moments before, baered down on his position. But by a stroke of good luck, did the young man still draw breath as the twin missiles suddenly plunged into the Battle Drones side, blowing it to smithereens.
Yet, that luck had clearly run out, as the blinding plasma beam incinerated much of his rightside as he entered the very next corridor.
—
Tobias Two-guns was an assassin on a mission all his own.
In his youth, his colony had come under attack by the very Organization he was now employed by. The colony itself was guilty of human trafficking. This crime, in itself, was not a thing he supported. As young as he was, he did not understand it back then, nor did he understand that his mother was actually one of those humans being ‘trafficked’. What he did understand was that his father was killed as a slaver in the incoming raid as the Organization removed the local criminal cartel from the board. Like they do.
Tobias’ father was no slaver. His father was merely caught up in the wrong place, at the wrong time… to be gunned down by an ambidextrous gunslinger known the Onion over as Ezra Fray. Tobias set out to seek revenge.
Tobias took it upon himself to learn the skills of his prey; trained all his life. He was a good shot, and fast. But, truth be told, he was not ambidextrous in the least. He really just carried that second gun for the name. The idea being, that the moniker would draw his prey to him. Maybe tempt the legendary gunman to challenge the young upstart.
Tobias found it hard to believe that anyone could fire two guns at the same time—not the way they did it in the movies anyway. Not effectively. He had a successful career despite this. Ultimately it was not the name, but the skills he’d acquired that led him in the right direction. He found his way to the Dirty Damsel, found himself a position under the roughest toughest thugs of them all; not surprising his prey was among them. Yet, his own personal mission was all he truly cared about. He merely wanted to get close enough to the man that killed his Pa, to take his revenge.
Tobias had a bead on his target for months, he was now simply waiting for his moment. Trying to time it so that he could take his revenge without being murdered by the rest of the crew.
This drone raid, that was suddenly tearing the crew of the Dirty Damsel to pieces was the perfect cover to finally take down his mark.
—
Ezra Fray was getting on in years. He was a gunslinger. Known, throughout the underworld, for his twin guns. A killer, a braggart, not one you want to cross. He was Dutch’s top man. Little did he know, he had a target on his back for months now. All for actions, he took, years ago.
Tobias Two-guns, stood before the old gunslinger, both guns in hand; only one trained on the older man.
What was meant to come next was anyone’s guess, though Ezra was wise enough, that he’d recognized the man’s intent. It was not the first time Ezra had found himself the prey, nor even in such a hairy situation.
Unfortunately for the hunter, they were all currently being hunted.
The battle Drone lurched into the corridor, plasma beam blasting, scorching the walls as it dragged the immensely powerful beam through the corridor, seeking out its next target- a continuous skull-vibrating hum carried from the weapon as the smell of burnt metal filled the air.
Tobias was forced to switch from his actual target, fired two shots as he rolled clear. Both shots from the same gun, struck the energy weapon itself. Something deep inside was pierced, something that clearly was not meant to be pierced. As luck would have it, the energy suddenly looped into a feedback that caused it to burst back up into the drone, splitting it down the center, destroying it.
Tobias spun about as fast as he could, trying to get that bead back on his actual target.
The old gunslinger was gone.
So too was Tobias’ chance at revenge.
In a hail of bullets, the very next Battle Drone to enter the corridor removed Tobias from the board for good. Like they do.
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