A Busy Day

Sight, track, address, breathe. Fire. I track the targets along the range, following my every letter of my training. The sniper-pattern rifle an extension of my body. I’d just come from some back water planet-side bar, sparring with drug-crazed heavies. To think these Minmatar are supposed to be good fighters. Now I’m in my personal quarters, my clothing store moved to other areas of my POS, the cavernous chamber changed in quick order but a few days ago into a firing range…

The signs and portents were all there, I landed my Worm-class Frigate on Ebodold IV backlit by a blood moon. There will be death today, maybe I will find my end here, my mind in turmoil over the events of the last few weeks. With Mistress Ithiria’s disappearance, the smell of blood was never far away, the faint copper tinge on the wind as we travel along the rivers of time.

The air was thick with the incense of drugs, sweat and alcohol as I step in to the bar. The typical back alley dive with its own complimentary pack vermin-infested whores. I glance around and walk to the bar, “you’re a long way from anywhere, darlin’,” the barman drawled, his thick accent typical of the locals in the Heimatar region. I lay a pistol on the bar, glaring in to his eyes, “don’t call me darling. Drinks, all around.” His face settling to a neutral, despite the glint of avarice in his eyes, his body heavily musked in fear. Was it the fresh blood over my tunic he’d just noticed, or my demeanour? I had picked out a bar with the worst reputation on the planet and openly challenged the owner. The bar had fallen silent. “Excellent,” I step back from the bar slightly, body in a relaxed pose, muscles ready, coiled like a spring. The barman covers the bar in a large selection of drinks, he looked at me, “and yours?” He asked, glancing down at my pistol. “Nothing for now. Put another round on the bar for everyone.” His face incredulous as he looks at me, “and how do you plan to pay for it, darlin’?”

I smile, my long, heavy coat dropping from my shoulders, his eyes dropping to my hips. “With blood,” I say, his hand darting to the pistol I left on the bar. The rest of the patrons exploded in to violence as the barman’s wretched scream tore the silence, my blade shearing effortlessly through his arm. I duck and take a diving roll to my left just in time as the barman got vaporised by a heavy bore rifle. I laugh, as though in a state of hysteria, a man fell under his own weight as I severed his legs, two crimson half-moons singing through the air as I bring both my swords around for death-dealing blows.

Within moments the bar was silent, onlookers unsure of the gunfire and screams coming from inside. Two law enforcement officers ran, shouting in to their communicators, “Gunfire in the red district, sector three-one-alpha. Requesting-” I fire two shots, catching both the law men in the center of their foreheads and smile as I leave, four severed heads held from their hair in my left hand and a compact assault pistol in my right, smoke and fire enveloping the street. My chill laugh filling the air as I walk casually back towards the space port and my vessel.


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