Mango-go
New Member
It would have been gloomy and dark if it was not the Neon City itself. Dark clouds blanketed the skies of Garves, but the enchanting lights of the various casinos and clubs twinkled on the surface of puddles that dotted the streets- luring people to follow like will-o-wisps in the night. The rain was not a harsh storm, but a gentle sprinkle that nudged you indoors.
There was a small establishment that was rather notable for being one of the few buildings in the city that made no effort to make itself notable. It was a local favorite of the gangsters who ran the city, a safe haven where the various mobs would agree to a ceasefire and escape the blinding lights they typically used as a cover for crime. The big names that frequented the pub often attracted overzealous bounty hunters hoping to make the score of a lifetime only to end up reduced to an indiscernible mess from a plethora of bullet holes before being moped away. That was what normally happened, but today, a much stronger hunter entered.
His name was Thordon Brant. He was not just a bounty hunter, he was a mercenary. His combative abilities were thought to be unmatched but even those were surpassed by his intellect. It was said that he could see every possible outcome to a situation and determine the best action in a fraction of a second. His tactics serving as a general had changed the tides of many wars- and throughout the galaxy he had both won and ended revolutions for the highest bidder. He had just taken his first step inside when the sight of the signature U shaped scar on his cheek caused every gun in the establishment to raise and point at his head.
“Now now, I’m not here to cause any trouble.” Thordon raised his hands in peace “I’m here tracking down an outlaw. He killed a prince on a neighboring planet and they’ve offered a huge reward to whoever brings him in. None of your business is of any concern to me.”
“Pretty smug thinking you can just waltz in here. I take that as a sign of disrespect.” A displeased voice rang from beneath a perfectly twirled mustache. It was Gyni Marvito, the don of the aptly named Marvito mob. Along with owning a casino and a club, the pudgy man had one of the greatest presences in the red light district of the city and was known to be particularly violent towards any higher authorities that stuck their head where they weren’t welcome. He trotted up to the mercenary, getting close enough to press a firearm that resembled a mix between a pistol and a shotgun between the open buttons of Thordon’s trench coat.
While feigning inaction by keeping his hands raised, Thordon raised his leg and delivered a swift knee into the butt of the gun, knocking it to the ground. He grabbed Gyni by the collar of his suit and positioned himself between the man and the doorway to prevent anyone from having a shot without the risk of killing the mob boss.
“I find it disrespectful that you feel you can approach me.”
Thordon grabbed Gyni’s tie and pushed on the man’s shoulder to spin him around and send him towards ground. Thordon pulled on the now reversed tie, using the tension to prevent Gyni from falling and suspend him at a near 60 degree angle like a suffocating leash. With his free hand Thordon grabbed a grenade from his waist and stuffed it into Gyni’s open mouth gasping for air.
“Now, if everyone complies you’ll all get to continue with your day and your friend gets to live. Everyone put away your guns. Keep in mind that If you don’t I’ll jump out the door and detonate.”
The soft rattles of sheathing guns were heard around the room as the crowd realized defeat.
“Good. Now, as I said, I don’t have business with any of you. This shouldn’t be too difficult. The man I’m after has a number of cybernetic enhancements including a mechanical left arm.”
Though he attempted to uphold the code of criminals and feign ignorance, the eyes of a single man flickered to another man sitting at the far end of the bar. It was not because mechanical arms were particularly rare in this part of the galaxy, but this man had made a particularly rare impression on him after they chatted over a drink and shared stories of bike racing. Thorton noticed the glance and followed the man’s eyes, a smile crossing his face as he settled onto his target.
“Yo” Thorton’s prey was undisturbed and gave a subtle wave. “After I finish my drink we can settle this outside.”
Thorton was quick to draw in response. He didn’t waste time killing his targets, firing an armor piercing round that sent the man tumbling off his stool with a flash that lit up the bar. No matter what his reputation was, he died all the same as the rest of them. The mission was complete.
“Ow, what the fuck dude?”
The voice chilled the room, causing all eyes to stare in awe as the man rose and rubbed his temple that a nearly black stream of blood trickled from. But to the man himself he was rather unimpressed by the death defying feat- looking gladly at the unharmed lowball glass in hand.
“Phew, at least my drinks ok. I can forgive you for that one, so can we please-“
BANG BANG
Thorton unloaded two more rounds, one that shattered his glass and the next sent the man flying into the wall. Surely the target was dead now.
“Okay NOW I’m pissed.” He looked down at his sweater- a scorching hole exposed his chest.
“Well guess I don’t have a choice. Sorry bar, only way you’re getting out of here alive is if fatty dies too. I offended them so they want to get their revenge. Bomb’s gonna go off regardless- you guys are just thorns in their side, they probably sent this guy to burn the weeds while he’s at it. Don’t get mad, but sacrifices are gonna have to be made.”
“What does that even mean?” Whispered an onlooker who was getting quite bored of the extended introduction.
“It means…” he grabbed the nearest bottle from behind the counter. “I’m going to have to punch through him.”
He threw the bottle at a lamp hanging above Thorton’s head. Both the glass hosting the light and the liquor burst on contact, the sparks of the exposed fuse igniting the alcohol and creating a small burst of flames. It was little more than a distraction, but that was all it was meant to be. He seized his open and blitzed Thorton with inhumane speed. It all happened in a moment. He bent his legs to load and shot a punch straight at Gyni, aiming for the grenade clenched in his jaw. The initial contact pulverized every bone in the gangsters face into a flapjack; however, that was just the beginning of the punch. The man hit through his target, using his metal fist as a shield from the explosion as the grenade detonated and flung Thorton out of the building in a geyser of brain and blood.
“Sorry about that, I’ll be right back.” Unfazed he stepped over what remained of Gyni’s body and followed his target into the street. He was the hunter now.
Silence followed in the bar. Nobody moved an inch. They had no idea who he was, and he hadn’t asked them to wait for him, but they felt obligated to- whether it was due to fear or shock. They waited for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few minutes until the man made his reentry with Thorton’s body in tow.
He strolled towards the far booth, the dragging coattails of the merchants limp body smearing blood along the way. He arrived opposite a man dressed in a black suit and fedora, and threw the corpse across the table.
“I believed you issued a payment for his body.”
The suited man’s cool demeanor had been replaced with a look of horror. He reached into a jacket and pulled out a stack of space money.
“What-who are you?”
He had been called many things. Scumbag, thief, freak…murderer. But none of those were things he considered himself to be.
He looked at the man with a friendly smile, “I’m Pax Saturday- delivery man.”
He swiped up the cash and departed with a skip in his step, leaving a generous wad of cash on the bar counter as compensation for the damages on his way.
“Where to next?” He sang to himself in between whistles. “Well I’m in the Neon City and I got all this cash. Might as well have some fun.”
Pax waved down a taxi drone and climbed into the suspended white seat. “To 49th & Luciberg, level 64 please”
Heading to Sphinx Tavern on Level 64 of 49th and Luciberg
The overhead propellers whirred to life and lifted Pax into the night sky, flying him deeper into the heart of the vibrant nightlife.
——
Pax awoke the next afternoon in a daze. The last thing he remembered was betting a Weltarian (A species of hippo-gorilla centaurs) that he could out drink them, which clearly he had lost. His head ached, and looking down he could see his clothes had been replaced with an orange jumpsuit.
“Ahhh” He rubbed his temples while peering outside the cell. “What did I do last night?”
There was a small establishment that was rather notable for being one of the few buildings in the city that made no effort to make itself notable. It was a local favorite of the gangsters who ran the city, a safe haven where the various mobs would agree to a ceasefire and escape the blinding lights they typically used as a cover for crime. The big names that frequented the pub often attracted overzealous bounty hunters hoping to make the score of a lifetime only to end up reduced to an indiscernible mess from a plethora of bullet holes before being moped away. That was what normally happened, but today, a much stronger hunter entered.
His name was Thordon Brant. He was not just a bounty hunter, he was a mercenary. His combative abilities were thought to be unmatched but even those were surpassed by his intellect. It was said that he could see every possible outcome to a situation and determine the best action in a fraction of a second. His tactics serving as a general had changed the tides of many wars- and throughout the galaxy he had both won and ended revolutions for the highest bidder. He had just taken his first step inside when the sight of the signature U shaped scar on his cheek caused every gun in the establishment to raise and point at his head.
“Now now, I’m not here to cause any trouble.” Thordon raised his hands in peace “I’m here tracking down an outlaw. He killed a prince on a neighboring planet and they’ve offered a huge reward to whoever brings him in. None of your business is of any concern to me.”
“Pretty smug thinking you can just waltz in here. I take that as a sign of disrespect.” A displeased voice rang from beneath a perfectly twirled mustache. It was Gyni Marvito, the don of the aptly named Marvito mob. Along with owning a casino and a club, the pudgy man had one of the greatest presences in the red light district of the city and was known to be particularly violent towards any higher authorities that stuck their head where they weren’t welcome. He trotted up to the mercenary, getting close enough to press a firearm that resembled a mix between a pistol and a shotgun between the open buttons of Thordon’s trench coat.
While feigning inaction by keeping his hands raised, Thordon raised his leg and delivered a swift knee into the butt of the gun, knocking it to the ground. He grabbed Gyni by the collar of his suit and positioned himself between the man and the doorway to prevent anyone from having a shot without the risk of killing the mob boss.
“I find it disrespectful that you feel you can approach me.”
Thordon grabbed Gyni’s tie and pushed on the man’s shoulder to spin him around and send him towards ground. Thordon pulled on the now reversed tie, using the tension to prevent Gyni from falling and suspend him at a near 60 degree angle like a suffocating leash. With his free hand Thordon grabbed a grenade from his waist and stuffed it into Gyni’s open mouth gasping for air.
“Now, if everyone complies you’ll all get to continue with your day and your friend gets to live. Everyone put away your guns. Keep in mind that If you don’t I’ll jump out the door and detonate.”
The soft rattles of sheathing guns were heard around the room as the crowd realized defeat.
“Good. Now, as I said, I don’t have business with any of you. This shouldn’t be too difficult. The man I’m after has a number of cybernetic enhancements including a mechanical left arm.”
Though he attempted to uphold the code of criminals and feign ignorance, the eyes of a single man flickered to another man sitting at the far end of the bar. It was not because mechanical arms were particularly rare in this part of the galaxy, but this man had made a particularly rare impression on him after they chatted over a drink and shared stories of bike racing. Thorton noticed the glance and followed the man’s eyes, a smile crossing his face as he settled onto his target.
“Yo” Thorton’s prey was undisturbed and gave a subtle wave. “After I finish my drink we can settle this outside.”
Thorton was quick to draw in response. He didn’t waste time killing his targets, firing an armor piercing round that sent the man tumbling off his stool with a flash that lit up the bar. No matter what his reputation was, he died all the same as the rest of them. The mission was complete.
“Ow, what the fuck dude?”
The voice chilled the room, causing all eyes to stare in awe as the man rose and rubbed his temple that a nearly black stream of blood trickled from. But to the man himself he was rather unimpressed by the death defying feat- looking gladly at the unharmed lowball glass in hand.
“Phew, at least my drinks ok. I can forgive you for that one, so can we please-“
BANG BANG
Thorton unloaded two more rounds, one that shattered his glass and the next sent the man flying into the wall. Surely the target was dead now.
“Okay NOW I’m pissed.” He looked down at his sweater- a scorching hole exposed his chest.
“Well guess I don’t have a choice. Sorry bar, only way you’re getting out of here alive is if fatty dies too. I offended them so they want to get their revenge. Bomb’s gonna go off regardless- you guys are just thorns in their side, they probably sent this guy to burn the weeds while he’s at it. Don’t get mad, but sacrifices are gonna have to be made.”
“What does that even mean?” Whispered an onlooker who was getting quite bored of the extended introduction.
“It means…” he grabbed the nearest bottle from behind the counter. “I’m going to have to punch through him.”
He threw the bottle at a lamp hanging above Thorton’s head. Both the glass hosting the light and the liquor burst on contact, the sparks of the exposed fuse igniting the alcohol and creating a small burst of flames. It was little more than a distraction, but that was all it was meant to be. He seized his open and blitzed Thorton with inhumane speed. It all happened in a moment. He bent his legs to load and shot a punch straight at Gyni, aiming for the grenade clenched in his jaw. The initial contact pulverized every bone in the gangsters face into a flapjack; however, that was just the beginning of the punch. The man hit through his target, using his metal fist as a shield from the explosion as the grenade detonated and flung Thorton out of the building in a geyser of brain and blood.
“Sorry about that, I’ll be right back.” Unfazed he stepped over what remained of Gyni’s body and followed his target into the street. He was the hunter now.
Silence followed in the bar. Nobody moved an inch. They had no idea who he was, and he hadn’t asked them to wait for him, but they felt obligated to- whether it was due to fear or shock. They waited for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few minutes until the man made his reentry with Thorton’s body in tow.
He strolled towards the far booth, the dragging coattails of the merchants limp body smearing blood along the way. He arrived opposite a man dressed in a black suit and fedora, and threw the corpse across the table.
“I believed you issued a payment for his body.”
The suited man’s cool demeanor had been replaced with a look of horror. He reached into a jacket and pulled out a stack of space money.
“What-who are you?”
He had been called many things. Scumbag, thief, freak…murderer. But none of those were things he considered himself to be.
He looked at the man with a friendly smile, “I’m Pax Saturday- delivery man.”
He swiped up the cash and departed with a skip in his step, leaving a generous wad of cash on the bar counter as compensation for the damages on his way.
“Where to next?” He sang to himself in between whistles. “Well I’m in the Neon City and I got all this cash. Might as well have some fun.”
Pax waved down a taxi drone and climbed into the suspended white seat. “To 49th & Luciberg, level 64 please”
Heading to Sphinx Tavern on Level 64 of 49th and Luciberg
The overhead propellers whirred to life and lifted Pax into the night sky, flying him deeper into the heart of the vibrant nightlife.
——
Pax awoke the next afternoon in a daze. The last thing he remembered was betting a Weltarian (A species of hippo-gorilla centaurs) that he could out drink them, which clearly he had lost. His head ached, and looking down he could see his clothes had been replaced with an orange jumpsuit.
“Ahhh” He rubbed his temples while peering outside the cell. “What did I do last night?”
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