(?????)
"You know? When I was little…"
Ruke paused to pull the leg piece of his suit up and buckle it.
"I used to look up at the night sky…"
He paused again to put on his suit's chest piece, making sure every plate is mounted correctly.
"At the sea of stars above and wonder…"
He picked up his helmet on the floor and wiped some sort of slippery liquid off of it.
"Are there others out there? Like… other people? I always wanted to know that, well… at least until the Bolyash empire came…"
"A thousand cred for two hours"
The half naked woman in front of him extended her hand to him, she had her other hand on her waist and she was tapping the floor with her clawed feet, seemingly impatient.
"*Sigh* can't you listen to my story for a bit?"
"You hired me to know what it feels like to be inside a woman, not listen to your stupid stories, a thousand"
"Fine… here"
He handed her nine small hexagonal chips made of nano carbon, it had grooved patterns all over it and a number on each side. She looked at it and grabbed his wrist with her claws, drawing a tiny bit of blood that drip out of the spaces between his scales.
"I think you're missing a hundred"
"You spilled lube all over my helmet!"
"I don't care, one more, maybe three more if you consider giving me a tip~"
"Damn you, fine… Here's another one, happy?"
He threw her another one, she caught it and inspected it for a second, before letting his hand go with a smile.
"Call me anytime~"
"Hmph… as if…"
She turned around quickly with her thick scaly tail raised, it smacked his head on its way around. She chuckled as he rubbed his nose.
"You know you want to~"
"I'm leaving…"
"Heh… no wonder you're a Loner"
She mocked him as walked out the door to her apartment, he tried his best to ignore it but still found himself irritated. He silently grumbled as he went down the stairs of the ten floored apartment building, arriving at the bottom with a bitter feeling in his heart and as he walked out of the building into the rainy streets of Rezen, a planet he recently visited. He visited this planet since it was popular for always being rainy, he'd thought maybe it would be a nice place for him to finally settle, get a job, a citizenship, a place to stay, forever in the rain enjoying the cold on his scales, to finally take off the title of "Loner".
It didn't work, well… it did, sort of… but only for a while, he got a job, but was fired not long after and he went back to his old habit. A vicious cycle of going planet to planet, looking for a permanent job, only to fail and fall again to the never ending hell hole of drinking, prostitutes and borderline illegal work which he often does out of desperation for some money to spare.
He always wondered, is this his fate? To be a Loner forever? Why can't he ever get it right? Why does he always fail to get better every time? Why?
To be a Loner… or Wanderer… or Rogue, or the Lost even, people call him many names, but Loner was the most prevalent, and he hated that title. Loner, a title for those without home, without anyone to go back to, no one to love. A title for those who are left to wander around the galaxy without purpose, other than maybe make ends meet with random jobs just to live day to day, or die a lonely death with no one to remember and no one who wants to remember them.
He hated this life, he didn't ask for this, not any of this, ever, and yet here he is, another victim of fate. No matter how hard he tried, he always found himself back at point zero, and he's tired of it. But it's not like he can escape it, it has been like this ever since the defeat of his kind, it has always been like this for him and many others since the mass annexation and forced integration into the Bolyash empire.
And it'll never change, not until there's a regime change. He looked up at the sky, at the glimmering space elevator, standing like a spear that pierces the ever cloudy sky, and sighed. He shouldn't have hired that prostitute, he has almost no money now, how is he going to pay for a ride up and get to his ship?
He looked around him, at the busy street of the city that always rains, he looked at the various people passing by, at those who simply ignored him, and at those who glanced at him and looked away in disgust. His eye landed on one figure, a woman. Alone, and probably defenseless, he tracked her movement, and saw her walking inside a dark alley. He followed suit, with nothing but the feeling of sorry, and a switchblade.
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His regret can only mount as he approaches her, silently and slowly as she stays foolishly unaware. His heartbeat was high, and as rapid as the sound of raindrops hitting the flimsy metal roof above him.
"Stupid rain coat… always so God damn leaky…"
He stood right behind her, and he could only say one word as he raised his knife.
"Sorry…"
"What? You again-"
She was cut short by a blade through the side of her neck, it went straight to her jugular and her throat. He pulled it out, and blood spilled out of the wound on her neck, flowing into the pooling rainwater below, and into the street drains. The smell of rain, rust and rotting junk smelled no different than a corpse, no one would find her here unless they are some poor sod that dives in flooded trash containers for scraps of food.
He simply stood there and watched as she desperately tried to scream and close the wound with her hand, but all that came out of her mouth was a gurgle and more blood mixed with saliva. She collapsed and stopped moving, giving him an easy time of grabbing her purse and taking her money, before he left, he threw two hundred credits at her corpse with a whisper.
"*Enjoy the tip, and sorry if you don't like my stupid stories*"
Such is the life of a Loner, pathetic. But at least… It keeps him going.
—-~----
(Earth)
“Listen here motherfucker!...”
A man yelled to his phone as he tried to tidy his tie. He stood in front of a large mirror, alone, in the toilet of a subway. Judging from his expensive suit, golden watch and diamond ring he was a rich man, so his presence there was more than unusual. He wiped some sweat from his brow, and his breathing was quite heavy. Moreover, he constantly looked over his shoulder from time to time, seemingly trying to catch something.
“...I risked my damn life for this thing!”
He shook the briefcase he was carrying to make a certain point to whoever he was calling.
“So this better be good!”
“*Trust me… this is going to be beyond good, this’ll be historical!*”
The caller responds, with some degree of odd fascination in their voice.
“I only trust you because of one thing! Don't make me regret that”
“*When have I ever done that?*”
“when you dirtied my name by starting your stupid little-”
Suddenly, there was a sound, of heels on ceramic tiles, a light yet audible tap. The man froze and looked at the mirror, trying to see if anything’s behind him, he saw nothing. But he knew that wasn't the case, he turned around to see for himself. And again he froze, only to very calmly speak to the phone.
“*What is it?*”
“I’ve got something to do…”
He closed the call, and threw the phone to whatever is in front of him. There was nothing there at first sight, but the man knows something, and he knew he was proven right as his phone stopped mid air, as if caught by someone. The catcher revealed itself, a figure donned in a strange tight suit, wearing a sleek helmet that had a number on its side.
‘729’
The figure spoke in a somewhat robotic feminine voice, something that the man didn't seem to expect.
“I’m not succesful for nothing…”
He replied in a tone that sounds of both annoyance and fear, said in a low voice as he discreetly rubs his fingers together. The figure took some time to inspect his phone, before snapping it in half with just one hand, though the man was unfazed it seems.
“You want this right?”
He shook the briefcase.
“I’d rather die”
“And you have a mission to do”
“Sure…”
He lifted the briefcase, but didn't move, he waited for the figure to come closer instead. They walked with a stride full of elegance yet reeks of arrogance, making almost no sound, just that faint tap that rings in the man’s head. He has to admit, being face to face with such a being does invoke a tinge of awe, but he has no time to be amazed as the figure grabbed the briefcase.
He noticed their hand, that was tucked behind their back, slightly moved. Before they could make a move, he took out a concealed switchblade which he held under with the briefcase’s handle. He let go of it and tried to stab the figure in the neck, which he noticed to be somewhat uncovered. To his horror, even though it went through the suit, the figure seemed unaffected.
The figure took out a curved sword seemingly out of nowhere and slashed the man across the chest. It went deep, deep enough to cut his heart in two and pop his lungs, but not to cut him in two. He dropped dead on the spot, hands still twitching from leftover brain activity as the figure wiped the blood off their blade. The figure touched the side of their helmet and spoke.
—-~----
(?????)
Deep inside an unknown territory, in a part of space yet untouched by exploitation. A scout ship, bearing the golden insignia of the empire on its side, sat still in the middle of an asteroid field. Floating aimlessly with a dead engine, and an equally dead crew.
In the ship's bridge lay the dead bodies of its crew, many of the bodies were mutilated, burned, and crushed. The culprit stood in the middle of the bridge, holding the severed head of the ship's captain, the last man to go down in its rampage. The culprit breathed heavily through its rusted metal gas mask, pumping out black smoke with each huff.
It dropped the captain's severed head and wiped the blood off its hands as it bent down to take a knife, lodged in the chest cavity of the captain's headless body. It cleaned the blood on the knife with the sleeve of its old trench coat, making its shiny and reflective surface barely visible.
Just visible enough to reflect the faint red light coming from its goggles. Some of the black smoke coming from its mask touched the knife, and in an instant the knife rusted, so much so the blade fell apart, reducing it to a mere pile of rust dust.
Suddenly a white light appeared behind the unknown figure, it turned around to see what looked like a big white doorway in the middle of the bridge. The doorway was two dimensional, fine to look at from one side, weird from the other, the figure walked into the doorway and disappeared, followed suit by the doorway itself moments after, leaving the bridge as dark and lifeless as it used to be.
—-~----
-[N]