The discovery of the spacial warp anomoly (SWA) changed the space race. Humankind, once struggling to utilize its own star system, became able to colonize systems in multiple galaxys along with points in deep space. The only limitation was locating SWAs, where they led, and the enomourses resources required to utilize them.
With many systems having two or even three SWAs to exploit, the great era of exploration began. And what was found? Nothing. Humanity was truley alone. Galaxy after galaxy, system after system, none of the SWAs ever led to any undiscovered civilation. Seemingly endless resources fueled the hunger for new SWAs and the systems they opened. Humanity spread from the Sol system, establishing system interchanges like strings leading to different points in the universe. The Federation was concieved on Earth as a unified government of all settlements, and made possible by instantaneous faster than light travel allowed by the SWAs.
This Human Federation reigned across the universe for two thousand years until systems began to assert independence from an increasingly centralized control from the Senate. The great families struggled for power as systems became feifdoms. For another thousand years the known universe society collapsed into a collection of waring states. Entire planets were devestated by nuclear hellfire.
Then came the New Republic. System after system was reconquered. Radioactive planets were cleansed. Earth was no longer the center of the universe as the Carine system replaced the ancient Sol system in both technology, population, industry and granduer. The Federal Republic reconquered the entire known universe in less than fifty years and held it together for a thousand years, eventually becoming an Empire under the house Harnicor. The empire has held the human domain together through the sheer military and political will inherited from the Republic for yet another thousand years.
But nothing lasts forever, not empires spaning the known universe, not even humanity. Imperial Harnicor is tired, and the greatest portion of the universe remains a hungering emptiness waiting to devour.
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Hazy steam rose from the wet street. Dew clung to windows reflecting the blue and red rays of the moons. Grayish red dust clumps clung to curbs. Two rusted beams rose from the jagged edges of the tower, the horns of the Gothic Retreat. It was the highest structure in a city dominated by squat buildings. The windows under the horns of rust glared at the streets below.
Two bouncers with shaved heads, both two meters in height exactly, stood guard over the entrance. Both stood with feet apart, muscular arms wrapped tightly around their chests. They could have been twins.
Across the street, Fade rubbed the sash buckle of his crimson trench coat as he waited in the shadows of an aging apartment complex. A damp wind blew from the west to press the folds of his coat into his revolver. His worn red cowboy hat with its withered band of black leather frayed around the rim. The dyed red leather of his boots looked unforgiving. He tapped the cement with his toe as he leaned against a wall. The neon lights flickered to bouncing rhythms from loud bass lines that echoed into the alleys.
Fade whistled to himself as he sensed a human net forming. Soft footsteps pattered in the alley to the left. They were difficult to hear amidst the music from the tower. Something shuffled in the shadows behind a concrete barrier covered in graffiti. Five minutes passed as he sensed the shuffling, breathing, and waiting from around him. As Fade acted like he was casing the club, he noticed a glare from across the street.
The bouncers refused a teenage couple entrance by blocking the way with a shake of their heads. The two walked for a bit but lingered in sight and began making out while half in shadow. Fade snickered as a young man joined him; he looked to be unarmed.
“I have a fat one,” Fade said, referring to a one hundred thousand Haricon Imperial note he was now holding between his fingers, “What’s new?”
Spit hit the ground, “Did you honestly think this is about the information?” asked the man, “There’s a bounty on your head; Imperials aren’t welcome here no more.”
“Still Imperial territory last I checked, so your little revolution can wait,” Fade said with a sigh, “So this is really about the bounty? I thought it was something more. Another dead end. So, let’s see, I counted about one, two, three, six altogether, when are you planning to release the beasts?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The man’s lower lip twisted, “Mercenary knows where you are! Come out and say hello!”
As the man stepped back, the lanky couple stopped making out and approached. A blubbery giantess of a woman in a spiked collar bounced from the alley to the left. She blocked the entire way with her girth; her breathing was light and movement fast for her weight. From the other side, a lanky guy with a spiked bright purple Mohawk, also in a spiked collar, approached with metal pipes in both hands. The fifth collared member of the party strolled across the street; a large metal cross tipped by cylindrical spikes at each end in his left hand. The man who spoke to Fade opened a steel switchblade.
Fade stepped forward with a shrug as the group encircled him, “Okay, so you have me surrounded. You want to kill your best customer? And you really want to pick a fight right in front of your club? I thought you kids would know by now that I’m not some pushover detective or Imperial cop.”
“Home court advantage,” bellowed the fat woman, the freckles on her face lifting as she smiled.
“Mercenary rat,” snarled one, her front teeth pushing forward as she spoke.
“Well,” said the ringleader, “You’ve been useful, but we’re part of the big revolution now. A capitalist imperial mercenary dog scum like yourself won’t understand. You’re going to scream once for every comrade you’ve killed.”
The man with the spiked cross sprinted to jump to the front. The first to attack, he swung the cross laterally aimed to slam into Fade’s right shoulder. With a quick step back, Fade caught the cross with his left hand and swung his attacker, who refused to let go of the weapon. As he went around in a spiral, his boots slammed into the faces of a couple of fighters with enough force to knock them down. Fade kept spinning him until the attacker got motion sick and let go. He flew sideways into a man with two metal pipes before the cross smacked into his head lengthwise.
Four members of the attacking party were now disorganized after their initial attack. Fade felt the switchblade stab into his coat as the tip put a little hole in his side before getting stuck in the armor fabric. He swung about and punched the attacker in the throat. Then he pulled the knife out of his coat. Mohawk attacked with right hook. Fade dodged and sunk the blade so deep into his right thigh that he couldn’t pull it back out.
“What a crew! Six of you against me isn’t a fair fight... next time bring more.”
The Mohawk pulled the knife out of his leg, twirled it, and glared at Fade as he gripped the stained blade. But when Fade stared back the man’s legs quivered. Fade noticed the liquid filled nodules between each spike on the collars of his attackers. The fat giantess, who had been calmly blocking an escape route until now, pressed a nodule on her collar. In the span of ten seconds her arms grew hairy, her incisors grew by half a centimeter, and her fingernails extended into claws. Mohawk developed massive muscles throughout his arms and legs, and postured himself like a gorilla as the wound on his thigh healed.
“Wow, you don’t look like a chicken anymore,” Fade sighed.
The man who wielded the cross grew longer fangs and hissed with a fork tongue. Reptilian scales grew over his skin. The three pounced at once. The snake man grew fangs from his fingernails that sprayed acidic venom.
Fade dodged left. Venom bubbled against the wall of an apartment dome. Then Fade stepped aside right as the gorilla charged into the acid weakened residential complex. Outer molding crumpled away to reveal broken insulation.
The fat werewolf lost track of Fade. We black nose sniffed and her hairy ears perked upwards. His scent was strong, too strong, it seemed to be everywhere. Behind her, but how!? She received two swift kicks to her backside and stumbled over top the gorilla morph. Fade darted forward, took the snake by the neck, and squeezed until it passed out. The fat wolf woman wasn’t done, her body jiggled as she jumped from the wreckage and swiped widely. Her landing made the ground tremble.
The gorilla man managed to get on his feet while Fade dodged her swipes. He charged from behind only for Fade to twirl out of the way and let him skid into his huge companion. Fade twirled again. His coat became a red blur as his boot met the back of the mohawk gorilla man’s head. As the gorilla collapsed, Fade pulled three darts from his pocket. With a few flicks, they were sent into the bodies of the genetically altered squad. In the span of ten seconds, each reverted back to their human form. At this point, the remaining crew retreated if they were able. As their boss recovered, he tried to get up and run, but Fade caught him and pulled him into the shadows before forcing him to his knees with a kick to the shoulder.
“Don’t kill me,” the man said, “I won’t bother you anymore. I... I didn’t know how strong you were. That’s why I hired the users.”
“So you're worthless to me,” Fade said.
A flick on the forehead from Fade’s index finger pierced flesh. Bone cracked. A small fountain of blood spured. The man fell to the pavement. He screamed. Cried. Rolled around with his hands on his forehead.
“My brain! My brain!! Oh shit!!! Oh shit!!” he screamed.
“Don’t waste my time, got that?” Fade grumbled, "Next time the injury won't heal."
Police sirens wailed in the distance. The ringleader dared look up as he held the leaking wound over the center of his forehead. The pain rang through his head and wouldn’t stop. His team was scattered about and down. His target was nowhere to be seen in his blurred vision. He muttered a curse. The bouncers stood like statues at their posts as if the fight never happened.