Hey guys, this is going to be a short series, following a bounty hunter named Vince. Hope you enjoy my first public writing, and I would greatly appreciate some feedback.Chapter One: Hitch a Ride
Vince pocketed his olde lighter as a puff of dark smoke escaped his lips. A cigar he purchased from one of the small Haernix flea markets laid idly in his left hand, as he leaned against box-car of the transport train, "The Ferryman." The caboose was empty, both on the inside, and on the balcony ledge he was now perched against. Heavy rain slapped against the awning above his head, and thunder rolled lightly while Vince watched the smoke slowly dissipate against the dark environment. Before the bounty hunter was able to take another drag, the caboose door opened with a nasty, rusted sound.
"Vincent Erek, I presume?" A middle-aged man's voice sliced through the dark and dreary scene. The man's voice seemed well rehearsed, but Vince knew better. Without waiting for an answer, the man set a package down on the center of the balcony. "Your contractor has sent me with this. He wants to make sure that you know he is serious when he says that no one is to survive this trip but you, and I." Vince turned to get a mental image of the man. He was middle-aged, as his voice suggested. To a common man, he would appear to be as dull as any other politician: top hat, monocle, badly groomed trader style mustache, and cologne he probably paid too much for. But, judging by the perspiration gathering on his upper lip, the slight pit stains that were forming up on the man's coat, and his jittery movements, Vince was positive the man had never been this close to an open fire fight.
"I suggest you sit back here then, sir." Vince let his southern drawl work slowly, and it almost seemed to ease the man down a bit. "I'll be done soon. Make sure you get a ride off this bucket before it reaches port." The man nodded, almost eagerly. He must have been glad not to have to be a part of this bloody business.
The door closed behind Vince as he made his way through the dark caboose. To most, the room would be hard to navigate, being dark as it was. However, being imbued by the Magi had its perks. You see, Vince grew up in a small village outside of Haernix, the capital city of Deris-5. The village was made up of Magi and Mancers; those who practiced augmenting the body with a mixture of robotics and ancient runes. Under his dark over-coat, his body was scrawled over by tattooists, who inscribed upon him many abilities. One of them being enhanced sight. Even in the dark, he was able to see it all. everything was visible; the rats skittering across the broken boards in the corner, the broken glass of the window Vince had used to enter the caboose illegally, and a man standing in the corner with a pistol drawn.
Fortunately, the man he saw was his own reflection. Vince's jaw loosened, and he let his weapon fall idly in his hand. "You need to calm down..." He said, more to make himself remember he was still alive than anything. His reflection almost made him weary; Vince often dressed to kill. His sleeked back black hair was covered by an olde looking hat, worn by cowboys thousands of years before. His face was mostly covered by a matching bandana, in case any security drones were lurking nearby. His lightly glowing blue eyes were the most prominent part of his face, giving him a supernatural look. A black trench-coat covered a black under-shirt and a Kevlar vest. As well as that, a pair of black combat boots stuck out from underneath his coat. They were steel-toed, meant for breaking legs or kicking foes. Under his coat, two olde Revolvers sat in place, waiting. His guns, Kane and Able, were eight-shot Mercuriam Shooters, the finest weapons available in three planetary systems, even though they were primitive in the sense that they still shot physical ammunition. Most military groups and enforcers have made the switch to energy weapons.
"Psh..." Vince scoffed at his own image. He took his mostly spent cigar, and burnt the ashes out on his reflection. Then, he smashed the mirror with his fist. From under the glass, a small item flew out. It was half of Vince's payment. He would receive the other half, as long as the Ferryman arrived with a ghost crew aboard.
Moments later, the bounty hunter found himself on the roof of the second car of the transport train. Being an electromagnetic train, he felt a little awkward looking down. The train was suspended by an over-railway, held only by an electrical current. It seemed dangerous, but it was the fastest way to travel planetside nowadays. If the magnet were to touch the railing, the train would likely explode. Luckily, the Ferryman was on a rarely used railway, and the only trains nearby would carry allies of the men Vince would be killing. With the rain pinging against the roof of the car, the men inside would not know about Vince until it was time. By then, it would be far too late.
Vince tried to listen through the thin train roof, but even with his augments, the rain and thunder, and the whirring of terrain flying by the train made it impossible for any man to hear inside. He had to make a guess; there was probably a man at the rear door. More than likely, two or three men would be playing Xerith Poker at the playing table near the center of the car. If his target had not moved, he would be here, and catching him off guard would prove useful. However, if he was not, he probably would have left two guards at the door between this, and the car that held the mobsters' terrain riders. The entrance plan was simple enough, he supposed: break in, kill everyone, break out.
Without hesitation, Vince jumped backwards, grabbed the side railing, and used the momentum to launch his body feet first through the train's window. Runes began to glow so brightly, that they were visible through his over coat. The men appeared to sluggishly turn towards Vince, as he pulled both of his weapons from their holsters. Loud, gunpowdered shots rang out, and each man fell slowly to the train floor in seconds. They never stood a chance. He counted four shots, five dead. A bullet ricocheted through the skull of his first victim, into the second's eye. The men were still falling as Vince put his weapons to his side. The runes that were still lit were increasing Vince's body speed by ten times, making everything appear to be in slow motion. Glass was still shattering, a deck of cards was still flying, and one man was still falling forward from being shot in the back of his spine. His target was not among the bodies. Unfortunately, that would make his job much more bloody.
Vince peered into the broken glass of the next door, now that his runes had stopped. They would need time to recharge, so the next room would have to be done the olde fashioned way. "Your time's up, Dean!" He yelled through, hoping his target would fear Vince even more. When no response came, Vince kicked the door open, and pointed both weapons. Nothing stirred, so he progressed. This car was lined with the gravity powered speeder bikes that these gangsters often rode. Primitive, but effective. Vince could see where they were coming from, with that choice. The next door loomed, and shadows danced about from inside. Men preparing for an assault. Vince would show no mercy.
Runes began to glow, and he used them to kick the door with force, bringing it off of its hinges, and sending it into a couple of straggling enemies. Two men fell under the door, and were killed on impact. Three more men, hiding behind train cars, began to shoot frantically. Vince dove quickly left, firing in mid air, as bullets whiffed by him. He hit a man in the shoulder, and sent him spiraling to the ground, while the others kept on shooting with automatic weapons. Vince hit the ground with his shoulder, and rolled, keeping his body to the left of the car. Another man showed himself, and opened fire while his friends reloaded, almost simultaneously. Popping his guns open, he let his auto-reloader fill the empty slots with ammunition. This time, he replaced them with PC-Nanobot rounds.
Vince sighed, and stood to fire. The shots rang out, and bullets missed by centimeters of his body. His, however, were direct hits. The nano shots ripped the men down quickly, and allowed for quick deaths. The cover they were behind fell under the nano surge as well, but the bots soon dissipated. Vince had to quicken his pace, for he knew that soon the bandits would call for help. Not that it mattered, but he would prefer to leave the railway intact. He kicked the next door in, with a similar response; automatic weapons. This time, he dove forward and fired the rest of his twelve shots. These enemies were either better trained, or lucky, as one of their bullets nicked his shoulder, and another flew through his hat. Men fell over under the hail of nano bullets, and some even fell through the floor that was eaten by the bots. Once Vince hit the ground, he rolled again, ignoring the pain and breaking into a run. This time, he pressed against the wall next to the train, and listened. He couldn't hear the people inside, but vibrations had begun to shake the railings above.
Probably about a mile back, another train was approaching. Vince had no idea how many were on board, but he had to assume the worst. Sighing, he pulled out the trigger device. It was small, but it would cause so much death. Vince hoped the man on the caboose was already gone, as he flicked the switch. An explosion rang out, as the package left on the floor by the middle-aged man let loose enough energy to cause the rain around the train to momentarily suspend itself in mid air. The back two cars were completely destroyed, and the next was torn in half. Chunks of railway flew faster than the train, as they spun into the dark, rainy backdrop. Vince knew that the train behind would be missing plenty of track, and knew that it would fall six-hundred feet, into the murky waters below. However, the train he was on was still moving forward, even as some railway crumbled behind it, so Vince continued.
Only one more train lied between Vince and his target, assuming his target had fled to the front. Vince kicked the door without delay, and aimed. Instead of seeing men flee, however, a more gruesome sight was to be held. An Eratian warrior stood, head hunched barely below the ceiling, and muscles bulged out to outrageous proportions. Metal armor covered his thick muscles, and a pair of beady yellow eyes poked out from his skull face mask. Vince could practically smell his alcohol ridden breath from the other side of the car. "Today, hunter, you are my prey." A meaty arm hooked back to allow the warrior to point to himself, while speaking the last words.
"Only thing you'll have to worry about huntin' is the back of your skull, when I blow it out of this train, big boy." The warrior laughed, shaking the walls of the car.
"Big talk. Small man." With this, the warrior charged forward, with his hulking arms looking to strangle. Or maul. Both were bad.
Write the love of which you speak. I speak to role players who love what I do.
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