2 years ago.
In the underbelly of the hive city on
A hub world, Omicron 5.
A slum, just like any underhives.
In an alleyway, a young man wearing a half-body jacket was walking toward something.
A flyer flew toward him.
"Dead or Alive, Lucas Magenta.
Crimes
Kidnapping, Arson, Theft and Murder"
contact arbitrators if you have information.
A wanted poster of
a young man with blue eyes and short hair.
He stepped on the flyer leaving a footprint and continued walking. He stopped in front of a door.
*Knock-Knock*
A sliding sound, a small panel opens.
"Password" a man behind the door asked.
*Click*
before he could get his answer, a snub revolver stuffed in his mouth. From his point of view was a young man with black hair and ember eyes. Kochav
"Dead or Alive" , The young man asked.
The man was trying to say somethi—–
*bang*
"I never said it was a question" he said while sighing.
"Maybe i should work on my lines a little"
There was ruckus and shouting from
inside the building.
Then a barrage of bullets.
The young man stood next to the door, counting the bullets of his six shooter.
"One mercy shot for allies, four shots in each limbs for the enemies then one more to the head, is that what Renoir said?"
"How is that practical and I don't even have enough bullets, was he just trying to be cool?"
He muttered then tossed a sphere
into the slid.
*Boom*
followed by screaming.
He kicked the door down and smirked.
"I have other way to inflict pain."
He walked over to where the grenade was landed, surrounded by a symphony of anguish.
"Minus one mindscrambler, gonna have to buy some more after this"
he then scanned the room.
It was bar, 6 people in total, scattered around the room covering their ears, some were frantically hitting themselves trying to cover the pain.
He casually walked to each one, picking up their weapons and put them on the table. Sat down and contemplated.
"Plasma gun, needle pistol, a snub and a few bolt pistols....which one should I use."
picked up the plasma gun and shot at one man.
"Too quick"
One man disintegrated instantly,
he tried the needler.
The target died almost immediately as well.
"What? This is beyond useless."
He decided to walk around, seemed to be looking for his objective.
He closed his eyes, enhanced his hearing.
"Mmmhmm"... a muffled scream?
He followed the sound and arrived at a wall in a small toilet.
The sound was coming from below, a sewage?
He went back to the lobby, still filled with screams
"it should wear off soon"
*Bang Bang Bang Bang*
he shot the remaining four in quick succession and let out a disappointing sigh.
"Garbage like you deserved more pain."
Scanning the room once more, flipped furniture and debris.
Then he noticed blood from one body flowing in a straight line— pooling around one tile.
He blasted it open and dropped down.
A dark, rancid sewer.
The only light came from the open hatch above, casting his silhouette downward.
The muffled screams grew louder, echoing off the walls.
He followed the sound and found four women—half-naked, clothes torn, clearly traumatized.
"I should've killed them slower," he muttered.
It was clear what had happened to them. He freed the women and asked,
"What did they want with you?"
Frightened and scared,
"Wh–who are you"
"Are they dead?" "Thank you".
They all spoke at once—nonsensical, panicked.
"I asked... what did they want with you?"
he repeated, more impatiently.
"One of them said they were going to sell us to someone."
One woman answered.
"And who are you?"
"Got it, I will drop a ladder down then you can do what you want to",
he said, turning to leave.
Back under the light,
without looking back, he added.
"Call me The Dead Rogue"
Out of the alleyway, he collapsed to one knee.
*Sigh*
"why did I say dead Rogue, that is so humiliating, someone please kill me from this embarrassment"
he mumbled to himself.
Then he remembered the flyer,
"Lucas Magenta".
At a seemingly normal establishment,
Young Kochav entered the lobby caring a large duffel bag in one hand,
"Room 21", he told the clerk.
"263 credits, thank you for your patronage." The clerk replied while reading a dataslate.
Kochav placed a coin on the counter and headed upstairs.
Room 21 bore a sign that read Occupied, though he opened it anyway.
Through the door was a typical living room fitted with a single bed,
some drawers and table.
He walked to a large mirror in the corner and knocked.
Before he could even say the password,
the mirror lowered,
revealing a hidden door.
"Two hundred—... well, whatever."
Past a curtain lay a lively, underground bar.
Some patrons looked like thugs,
others more professional.
A hired guns guild.
Doors like his lined the walls.
He sat across from the bar.
The bartender—a red-haired woman with an optic sensor in place of her left eye—
was polishing a glass.
"Word is you stole another job. At least pick them up from me instead of reading them and doing whatever you want", she said.
"You just want a cut, Rouge " he replied casually, dropping all the looted gear from earlier onto the bar.
"True. But you could've gotten a reward from the client for rescuing those girls", Rouge added.
"You always do this, all of us will get out of jobs sooner or later."
"Gimme a break, Underhives running out of criminals?, If i walk outside I could find some trash to kill in ten seconds"
he said sarcastically.
"Still, hired guns should at least act like one"
Rouge said then brought out a pouch.
"Weapons, mods, jewelries... how about 750?"
"Make it 800" , Kochav said.
"Fine but this is from my own stash,
so you better tell me who did it in exchange," Rouge negotiated.
"Lucas something, I think."
Kochav answered.
"That guy's getting pretty popular, huh? You've been messing with his operations
a lot lately.
Be careful, kid"
Rouge said, concerned.
"Sure."
Kochav muttered halfheartedly and left.
Back in his room,
he placed all his gear on the bed and cleaned each item carefully,
giving a faint smile as he worked.
He slid his gun under the pillow and
laid down to sleep.
A dream—or maybe a memory. He couldn't tell.
"Ko, take care of yourself OK?....
Mommy loves you very much."
An obscured figure with warm voice.
He awoke, tears trailing down his face.
"Can't remember her face as well huh."
"I'm sorry, everyone."