[Post-Episode 1] - Red Transit


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Somewhere, in the outer sectors

An engine whirrs, as the lights in a tunnel flicker by. A custom-model hoverbike speeds through it, headlights flooding the tunnel with a warm yellow-orange glow, as the blue hue of the tunnel fade in and out. On the bike is a man donned in maroon clothing, with a suit jacket decorated in black flames along the bottom, and a maroon bike helmet to match. As soon as the tunnel ends, he is greeted by a little roadblock; a gang of thugs blocking his way, fully decked out in janky, makeshift combat equipment. The few mercenaries up ahead tell him to stop and point their firearms at him. The man on the bike complies, comes to a stop and gets off.

Is there a problem?

“If you want to pass, you gotta pay the toll. This is our turf.”

The man in Maroon checks his pockets, all filled with priceless artifacts and pieces of history. As he has got no money, he does what anyone would do in this type of situation would do. Bargain.

So… How about I give you some of the little trinkets I have here instead, I guarantee you they’d sell for a pretty penny at a museum somewhere, if your little podunk colonies even have one.

“No dice. Pay up, money’s the only real law around here.”

I’ve got many a relic-” The biker pulls out a small disc made of stone, engraved with a symbol on it. “ Like this! I stol- *ahem* lifted this from a little ditty on a desert planet. Really nift-

“Not interested, smartmouth.” The thug gets a little more aggressive with his gun

How about something that could actually be of some monetary value to you, like...” The man in maroon puts away the disc, and takes out a large gemstone. “This pure little ditty of purest emerald, without any kind of scratches or faults. Carved by the finest-

“That’ll almost do. Anything else?” The thug asks, still pointing the gun towards the biker’s face.

Well there’s also...” he reaches into his jeans pocket, revealing three keys and a holster for a firearm.

“That’ll do.” The thug says, pointing a big, meaty finger towards one of the keys.

Hoho, Noooooooo. Those are no sale items.

“But I want one.” The thug says, pointing the gun more square at the biker’s head.

I do have an item that is more appealing for you though...

The biker dons a shit-eating grin, and reveals three little organs, dripping still fresh blood on his gloves.

Fresh organs! A liver, a Lung, and… Oh! A still beating heart! Pretty valuable down in a black market.

The thug stands in stunned silence, and then asked. “That’s pretty good, but I still… Wait a second…” Right after, he eyes the organs closer. “Where did you get these?”

Oh simple! See... there were these three guys blocking my way towards my destination, and eventually,

The thug looks down at the waist briefly, looking a little fazed by the fact that one of the keys and whatever was in the holster was missing.

I got fed up of them holding me at gunpoint, so I took them, and made sure that’d waive my fee.

The thug looks around at his comrades, all dead, looking as if their respective cavities on their bodies had been carved out, with a thin beam, unconscious from shock, and bleeding out on the ground. The thug grows enraged, and yells; “Bastard!” and pulls the trigger, not knowing the biker had slipped under somehow.

See, how many people did you steal from? 10? 20?” the biker says, pointing a small revolver with pipes on it at his stomach. The thug tries to elbow the biker, but the biker slips out of his way, ejecting the yellow key in the revolver to replace it with a red one. The thug fires a shot, but the biker easily slips out of the way. The revolver almost somehow speaks, saying “Inferno loaded, ready?” as he puts his finger over the trigger.

I’m about to give you-” The thug fires another shot, and the biker slips out of the way again. “A little piece of karma.

“STAY STILL YOU RAT!” The thug bellows, as another missed shot rings out.

Alright.” The biker says, pulling the trigger of his revolver, it ejecting both a bullet, and a long trail of flame behind it, the bullet igniting upon impact with the thug, setting him ablaze.

The thug panics, as he struggles to breathe, due to the smoke, and the thug tries to let out one last bit of aggression, but his vocalizations end up as strained coughing.

Good job you did, you and your patrol.” The biker saus, clearing out the bodies one by one, by firing the flaming bullets into their lifeless husks, but not before pilfering their cash. He then takes out the red key, and puts the yellow one back in. The driver responds again: “Voltage loaded, ready?” “Shame you couldn’t keep a profit for long.

A beam shoots out of the revolver, straight through the chest of the thug as it carves the man in half, turning around as the thug’s torso slides off.

The biker gets back on his bike, and speeds off, returning the gun and keys to their respective places on his belt. Soon after, he pulls up a holographic display by opening his palm up, tracking a lone blip with a little greek symbol on it. He knew in his mind, no obstacle was going to distract him from his mission, as he sped up, getting the engine to boom across the landscape, echoing around the space he put himself in. He knew who he was closing on to.

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