Ive been reading the Blade runner novel latly (a nice homage in the title), and i felt inspired. I may continue this as a long story, a may not. I was thinking of doing this as a participation (sp!!!) fan fic, but im not sure yet. I just had to get it down somewhere.
So, i hope you like it.
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He turned the data card slowly in his hand, over and over.
4 targets.
6 months had past since Dark Falz had been defeated, but Ragol was no better. The colonisation of the planet had started quite quickly after the dark ones defeat, way to quickly. One of the first colonys was totally wiped out by a sudden surge of creatures, and others were recieving attacks on a daily basis. Nearly everyone carried a weapon now.
4 targets.
Pioneer 2 remained in Ragols orbit, left to decay. Many of the old hunters remained on the ship, either to use to there surroundings, or scarred mentally by what they had seen down on the planets surface.
Thats where Deuce was.
He was a RAmar. WAS a RAmar. He had been one of the first to be sent down to the planets surface, and last to return. He fought his way into the depths of the ruins, battled the demons, and...thats all he knew. 1 month of his life was missing.
4 targets.
He played back the mission he was set over and over in his head. After Falz had been defeated, Deuce had become a bounty hunter.
Many hunters had become corrupted by Falz infuleance. Many were killed by there fellow hunters, but alot just slipped away. Falz power didnt even leave them when he was destroyed. They became cultists, worshipping there new god and praying for his return. They were violent killers who would sacrifice man or beast to there dark lord. And they wernt just secluded to Ragol.
There was large prices on the heads of Dark Falz cultists, and many old hunter bacame Bounty Hunters. Deuce became one because he feared the obscurity of nothingness. He wanted to end his life in a way someone would remember him.
Now he had 4 targets to take out. 4 Dark Falz cultists. He had been given there names and descriptions on the small data card he toyed with in his hand, and that was it. Either he kills them, they kill him or he forgets the whole thing.
Obscurity beckoned with that choice.
Chapter One:
"Oberon. How did i end up with a place in this sector?" Deuce asked himself, his voice deep and troubled. Just thinking about the sector depressed him.
Oberon had been a bad sector before the colonisation had started, and now it was even worse. Somehow Deuce had been moved to this hell hole, and it was having an effect on him. His face was bristled and unshaven, and his light brown hair was ruffled and messed up. He felt like the streets of Oberon themselves, a mess.
He made his way through the trash strewn Oberon streets, occassionaly seeing another old hunter, but never talking to them. Anyone who was living here would be as down and depressed as he was.
He was soon at his flat, a run down sty of a home, but it was the only place he had. He placed his 'hit' list in his pocket and flicked out his door card. He placed it into the reader next to the door and there was a short beep, and a green light flashed on, signalling that he could enter.
But something wasnt right. He slowly lifted the card out of the reader, and he felt it give slightly. He ran his finger along the side. It had recentaly been prised of. Immediatly he grabbed the Varista from his side.
He stepped forward and the door swooshed opened. All the lights were off, and he couldnt see anyone. He moved through to the living room, carefully navigating his way passed the junk and trash he had accumilated.
The lights were off here to, but the lights from outside were enough to light up the room. Someone was sitting in his chair.
"Dont move!" He yelled at the intruder, gun aimed for a head shot.
"Hmm, you wouldnt shot me" a confedent voice replied.
"You?"
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