Where It All Began PT.3 (A Nircean Tale)

Where It All Began (Pt.3)

A Nircean Tale



The following morning.



         Well, as inappropriate as it may have been, I felt a sort of enthusiastic rush as I sat perched atop the roof opposite to that of the one housing my soon-to-be victim. Although, considering the harsh and sadistic “business” practices employed by Marron Marlo, I hardly viewed him as a victim. More or less, he was one of the bad guys, and taking him out of the picture should serve to protect those who might otherwise be under his thumb, so to speak.

I did everything in my power to motivate my actions, using the mantra, “ends justify the means.”

         I laid on my belly, sniper rifle resting against the ball of my shoulder, and scanned each window of the kingpin’s pseudo complex through the mounted scope of the rifle. It had a powerful magnification, and fortunately I could adjust it as needed, since I wasn’t too interested in examining people’s blemishes.

         Anyhow, I spotted a multitude of armed thugs doing various things, but not one of them seemed to project the image of security. Seriously, none of them bothered to even look back out the windows or watch the entrance for possible threats. Are they really this dumb? Or am I the only idiot that would attempt to be a threat to them?

         I watched one guard in particular lean back against a wall and dig around in his nose for a while before finding what I assumed was the biggest booger he’d ever plucked. The joy he expressed to himself, in what he thought was private, was easily one of the funniest things I had seen in a while. He looked around, as if trying to find a partner of his to share the great news with. I really hope I don’t have to kill you. I thought, before quietly chuckling to myself.

         I moved the sight of the weapon onward, continuing my scouting of the building. About an hour had passed and I had not seen a shred of evidence suggesting that Marron was even present. However, when I shifted my view over the window where his office was located, I saw three of his thugs stand up hurriedly as Marron entered the office. I didn’t see him enter the building from my vantage point, and I didn’t see him traverse the building. I assumed he had a rear exit and a back hallway that just wasn’t visible to me. I better hit him with the first round, or his ass is disappearing.

         I watched for a few minutes as Marron wandered about his office, chatting with his men and getting himself settled in for a day’s work. Whether he was talking or listening intently to whatever was being said to him, he had an arrogant expression plastered across his face. It upset me only because Liam wore the same face. It was always the same with criminal leaders, they felt superior to mice because they were rats. Same crap, just a little bigger with a meaner bite. Sad little kings atop sad little hills.

         I sniffed the air around me, momentarily peeling my eye away from the weapons optics.

         “I love the smell of regicide in the morning.” I whispered, basking in the glow of the morning sunlight. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt an overwhelming surge of relieve and comfort. Perhaps it was because that day was slightly more beautiful than others, maybe because I found it therapeutic to assassinate a piece of human refuse, or maybe it was because I couldn’t wait to get back to Sahir.

         I grew tired of my confusion over the feelings I’d experienced in Sahirs presence. So, prior to pulling the trigger on my mark, I thought to myself and resolved that I was clearly attracted to her both physically and, to an extent, characteristically. However, from that resolve on, I realized I’d have to figure a way to move forward. For all I knew, she’d vanish in the wind upon the completion of my job. I had to keep her on line somehow.

         I returned to the task at hand, looking through the riffles sight once more. Marron remained behind his giant desk and fumbled with papers as his grunts left the office. He sat there alone and that was as good of a time as any to finish my job.

         Then I felt guilt. On the cusp of ending another man’s life, I found myself flashing back to the moment I’d changed the way I perceive the frailty of human life. The moment I realized a rock no bigger than my own fist could irreparable shift the direction of my character.



___



         Borcellus Major//Mining Moon

         Five years prior

         “Ben, I’m begging you, please don’t do this.” Erin said, grabbing my wrist, keeping me from strolling out of the small wood shack. “It doesn’t matter what he did to me, he’s the overseer. It’s what he does, he has that power.” She spoke softly, on the verge of tears.

         “You’re not a thing, he doesn’t have that right! I wouldn’t care if he had the entire APD at his command, he has NO right.” I said, trying to fight my own tears. We’d been enslaved within the mine since our childhood and time and time again, I witnessed the overseer do as he pleased with young girls. “I’m putting an end to him.” I clutched a rock I’d found just outside of the door.

         “Ben, I’ll be ok.” Erin wiped her eyes quickly, not willing to show her weakness. I loved that about her.

         “Even if you are, what about the next girl? Or the one he takes after that? It’s bad enough we have to dig up these stupid ruddin’ crystals, bad enough that we haven’t seen the sun in god knows how long; but I will be damned if he takes away whatever smiles we can muster up.” I paused, gently removing her hand from mine. “Your smile is all that I have to look forward to, he will not take that away.”

         I stormed out of the shack, leaving Erin behind me. No more than ten meters away was the overseer standing, smoking a cigarette as he looked down on his dozens of teenage slaves.

         Before he could turn to see that I was approaching, I swung my arm, lodging the rock into his skull. He collapsed to the ground in a fit of rapid convulsions. I pulled the rock back and drove it into his head once more. And again. And again. And again…

___



         Present



         I shook my head, trying to shake off the memory.

I hugged the rifle, pulling it infirmly against my shoulder as I braced the rest of my body. I took shallow breathes, removing the sway of the rifle as I drew a bead on my target.

“Men, like you, burn.” I muttered.

         Marron sat so blissfully unaware.

I didn’t relish the idea of taking a life, but I rather enjoyed the notion of saving others and frankly, if someone had to do the dirty work to make it happen, it may as well have been me.

I pulled the trigger and in that same instant, I watched a hole, no bigger than the round itself, burst through in the glass pane and in the same instant still, Marron dropped to the floor in a spasm before lying completely still.  I wondered to myself, do we all spasm like that during the onset of death?

I didn’t feel satisfied.

         I jumped to my feet, threw the rifle into a nearby ventilation duct and made for my escape.







Meanwhile, at Liam Forrester’s office… 



         

         “Hey! Ticky tocky, Liam, clocks counting down and you still haven’t given me shit!” I shouted while kicking the bastard in the knee, forcing him down on the other.

         “I don’t even know who the hell you are! What do you want from me?! Credits? Take it, I’ve got plenty of it!” Liam said, pleading.

         Even in the wake of his own potential death, the guy still worked up the nerve to boast.

I loved credits and power as much as the next girl, but wow. Liam was a class act.

         “I don’t want your credits.” Then I paused. Realizing that while I wasn’t there for the credits in particular, it’d be silly of me to just leave it there. After all, he said he had plenty. “You know what, yeah give me your credits.” I said, waving my pistol in face. “And while you’re at it, fill me in on what you know about my friend, Ben.”

         Liam scurried to his feet, as if working quickly would encourage me to spare him. “He’s a mercenary, I’ve worked with him a few times, but we never sat down and got to know one another!” He looked baffled. When the mark is in doubt, tighten the screws, Sahir.

         I grabbed a bottle of whiskey off his desk and threw it at the wall next to him. A shard of glass found its way into his eye and he cried out in pain.          

         “I know you know more than that you little tightwad, and if you don’t give it up, your eyes are gonna be replaced with the rest of that glass.” I shouted in his ear, my voice having to compete with his cries of agony.

         “Fine, fine, for the love of god, tone it down!” He covered his eye with a hand, apparently trying to keep the blood in his skull. “He was slave kid, held up in one of those crystal mines on Borcellus Major. I swear to god that’s all I know!”

         “Great. Now keep shoving credits in that bag of yours.” I sat down in the chair in front of his desk while he continued to shove credit chips in a plastic bag I threw at him.

         Ben was a slave kid, huh? Bet that’s why he’s a boy scout. Probably grew up hating the ‘bad guys’. Explains why he looks older too.

         I sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Liam’s desk and kicked my feet up, resting them on the desk top. “You know what’s wrong with crooks like you?” I said, digging dirt from underneath my finger nails with the tip of my knife.

         “No, why don’t you tell me.” He grumbled. His anger was evident, and probably justified. The sound of his voice lead me to believe he’d already begun planning his revenge in that tiny mind of his. Of course, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to carry it out.

         He didn’t think he was going to die. He didn’t believe that I had the audacity to actually kill him.

         “Crooks like you think you’re invincible, Liam. You think that no one would dare to kick you off your pathetic pedestal.” He paused, looking up at me, still grasping his bleeding eye. “I’m a crook too, you know, if you hadn’t gathered that much by now. However, I know that in an instant, I can die. I bleed just as well as any other woman or man and I’ll be damned if I get so sloppy to believe that even the most insignificant scum bag can’t take me out. You, on the other hand, never bothered to learn that lesson, did you?” 

         Liam then rose to his feet, staring at the gun I’d pulled out. The expression on his face told me that he was, in fact, learning that lesson. The fear in his eyes crept forward as his mind began to race. I assumed he’d begun considering the outcome. Asking himself, is there a way out of this? If I die, where will I go? Is there somewhere to go?

         Then again, I could have just been projecting.

Liams face went pale as he was ready to plead for his life, however, before he got the chance to, I put around in his gut.

He glared at me while simultaneously grasping his stomach wound with both hands as blood began to drips from between his finger-tips. His eyes screamed in disbelief.

Liam fell forward, slumping over his desk. After a few panicked jerks, he fell still.

         The bastard still didn’t believe I’d do it.

         I rolled him off the desk and pulled a roll of cloth bandages from my bag. As I started dressing his wound, I smiled to myself.

         Liam was lucky I’d used a non-lethal mind wipe round. The mind wipe rounds were designed to penetrate the body with a potent serum, forcing the victim to forget everything within the last 72 hours leading up to the point of injection.          

         Bens’ probably going to be relieved to find out that his rifle was carrying the same rounds. I thought, giggling to myself.

         I spat on Liam and grabbed the bag of credits from his bloodied hand.

         “Ben’s going to be a mess.” I said, while walking out of Liam’s office.