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The Great War: Saturn's Factory
Chapter 20: Gleen's no good very horrible week

Chapter 20: Gleen's no good very horrible week

It had all started when that Vat-Born, no, that damn Vat had refused to repair his gun.

It was supposed to be simple, how was he supposed to know those Vulcanites would screw up his firearm?

Then because of that stupid brand he had to take to get the mod, the Vat had refused to work with him.

He just used the brand as a way to get the repairs done! He wasn't actually a racist! He didn't give a fuck about the 'future of humanity' or whatever those True Birthed talked about.

He just wanted his gun repaired, simple as that. So when the guy had refused him, he decided to take some revenge.

Gleen had gotten some people from a random Vulcanite temple to help him score some payback.

He was originally planning to just trash the guy's house, maybe mug him at worst. Though his 'friends' had other ideas.

One of them was a full-blown Vulcanite, the other being avid followers of the True Birthed papers and their dead creator Albert Penny.

So the ring leader attacked the guy as soon as he realized the Vat was doing fucking weaponsmithing. That's when the whole thing spiraled out of control.

"Hey, Vat-Bitch, catch."

The Vulcanite had thrown a metal ball straight as the Vat's head. Sending the guy spiraling into the dirt. Gleen hadn't had time to react when the other two pulled out bats and started smashing them straight into the guy's back.

One blow even caught the man in the head. He swore he heard something crack when that happened.

Gleen had been pulled in their violent mob attack, so he joined in. Kicking and punching the Vat in the face.

It went on for a minute or two, that was when somebody noticed and tried to help. Gleen punched them in the throat. The man gasping as his body crashed into the concrete, he had been egged on by his colleague's. And he was already high off adrenaline. So he struck again.

Killing the guy.

He could still see the crimson on his hands, repeatedly punching and smashing.

That was when he heard a bang. The Vulcanite had been thrown onto his back, his stomach punched in by a round of brutal buckshot. His guts spilling onto the street as red blood flowed out of him.

He had turned tail and ran, as fast as he possibly could.

They didn't catch him, but he could hear the bangs that followed him into the night. One of the other guys was hit and fell.

Gleen kept running.

He kept running till he arrived at his parent's home. They were good Samaritans who helped everyone, His dad had all his limbs replace by Augments when a shell struck right next to him while he was stepping on a mine.

His mum had a few Augments which helped support her aging body, both of them were good people. So they immediately dropped all their things and hurried to comfort their troubled son.

It was the last kind thing they did for him.

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The police had knocked on their door the next day, one of the people there that night had ratted him out. Gleen would be taken into custody, to the protest of his mother and father.

The evidence would be mounted against him, he matched the appearance of one of the men who had attacked 'Nate'. The person they had beaten up.

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He wasn't in stable condition, was fighting for his life. They were putting some notorious amount of organic Augments into him to keep him alive.

The trial commenced the following week, the only other surviving member of that night testified against him for a reduced sentence. Gleen had managed to clear up some confusion, saying they were only going to mug Nate at worst and trash his apartment at best.

The guys with him had started the ordeal. While he had managed to avoid that shit-stain. He still had killed someone that day. His parents had walked out by then, his mother crying and his father telling him to never come back.

He was due for prison next week, they were currently sorting out the paperwork. A lot of people were in jail due to the stuff they did during the War.

So Gleen was given a rundown hotel, guarded by some officers to keep him in check, and so he didn't do anything else.

But they were lazy, and it was obvious the court didn't care about his case. Cases like these usually ended up in the dirt. The signs were there, just get out and disappear. You won't get another chance like this again.

So Gleen 'escaped' but not in the way they intended. He took the shotgun one of them had and killed both officers with ease.

Painted in blood, he had quickly changed into a spare pair of clothes and went searching. He had found Nate walking into his apartment on the second day of escape.

So he entered during the night when he thought Nate would be sleeping. And rung the doorbell. When he answered, he pulled the trigger.

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Nate looked at Gleen with a careful eye, the man was clearly unhinged. Though anybody could tell that from his willingness to hold a shotgun to someone's head.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me?" Gleen asked with barely contained wrath.

"What I did to you?" Nate said shocked. "I didn't do any fucking thing to you! I just refused your order for a gun, fucking racist! But you had to beat me up and nearly Kill me! I should be the one pointing that gun to your head, not the other way around!"

"You're a fucking liar!" Gleen shouted, his voice ripping through the room with uncontrollable fury, "I was living my life peacefully till you came along! You ruined my life, my parents abandoned me. I'm a criminal now!"

"And who's fault is that!" Nate asked with venom.

"You chose to attack me! You chose to beat me! You chose this life, and your actions have consequences!" Nate was shouting now too, his voice quivering in disbelief. He had done everything society had asked of him. He had broken no laws, he did nothing wrong. He had even paid his taxes, which he was sure half of his colleagues ignored.

Yet here was this manic. Pointing a gun at him, blaming him for his own downfall! This was insane.

Gleen's finger went to the trigger, ready to blow Nate's brains out. Though Nate wasn't going without a fight, Nate threw his blood at Gleen's face.

The crimson liquid blinding him. "Fuck, you stupid piece of Vat-Shit!" Gleen shouted.

His hand raising towards his face to wipe the blood off.

Gleen didn't have time to mess around, Nate's hand went to his pistol. Which lay about in the chaos. His fingers grasped the gun.

Pulling it towards. Without hesitation, Nate pulled the trigger. The bullet shooting out of his pistol and nailing the man straight in the shoulder.

Gleen screamed in pain and anger as he fell on his back.

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He didn't have time to play games!

This fucking Vat had the nerve to call this all his fault. The guy had told him no to getting his gun modded! All for the reason because he had been marked by a Vulcanite.

This was the reason he had attacked if Nate had just given him the mother-fucking gun, this whole thing would've never happened.

His life was ruined, but Nate wasn't. Gleen knew that in a few more days when the knowledge couldn't be covered up any longer. Nate would be a symbol, a symbol that Vat-Born was being pressed. He would be seen as a golden hero.

And Gleen as a stupid racist cunt.

Gleen had several bullets left, enough to put the bastard to sleep and leave him a bleeding corpse when the police found them.

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Nate grunted in pain as he propped himself up on the counter of his kitchen. Gleen was already getting back up. He had several rounds left.

More than enough to put this stupid hypocrite racist into the ground. Consequences be damned, this man had ruined his life long enough.

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Both men looked at each other with cold dead eyes. Their guns pulled.

And ready to tear the other apart with buckshot and bullets.

It was during this that someone walked up, looking through the door with confusion and annoyance.

"What the hell is all this racket around now you stupid whippersnappers!?" yelled Grandma Hailey.

The tradition of marking purchasers of Vulcanite products is a long-standing one. The symbol was originally used to help mark trusted purchasers, being also used to earn discounts on Vulcanite goods. But during the Civil Rights Movement in the SRE. The practice also had a more sinister purpose in letting the Vulcanites look to see if the customer was a Vat-Born or not. While a large chunk of Vat-Born hold distinctive appearances that allow you to tell their heritage. Some hold a much more regular human appearance. The only way to tell them apart from regular humans being to check their skin for the patterns that all Vat-Born have.

-Vulcanite Practices