Evolution

Orion

Saiyan Elite
Level 4
Joined
Aug 1, 2018
Messages
62
Essence
€11,054
Coin
₡41,000
Tokens
0
World
Cevanti
Profile
Click Here
Orion pushed open the thin corrugated iron sheet that functioned as a door, splashing sunlight into the dim hovel. Waiters bustled between tables stuffed with patrons, raising mugs and chugging them with alarming speed. He heard the boisterous din from down the alleyway but being within it made it difficult to think straight; drunkards laughing with complete abandon, telling each other tales filled with amazing exploits and near-misses - some of which might have even been true, judging from the outfits. Jagged knives and worn pistols hung brazenly from many belts, as if trying to goad a random stranger into a confrontation with them.

A number of curious eyes fell upon the robed saiyan as he jostled his way through the crowd, though they would always linger for a moment and then return to their compatriots. Orion had been in many bars like this one before. Some mirrored the night life, and often day life, of the saiyan bars back on Vegeta. Others were crammed with mercenaries and criminals, willing to stab anyone in the chest that might look at them the wrong way. From a quick analysis of this bar, it was full of fakes.

Sure, the weapons so obviously on display may have belonged to true fighters. Orion had met plenty of people who couldn’t ever leave work at work – they brought their menacing, short tempered persona with them everywhere. Others just liked to feel tough and intimidating, whether they were or not. They would shave their heads, or tattoo their skin, or sharpen the nastiest knife they could find and wear it like a piece of jewellery. They would do any and every cliché to be treated with reverence whether they earned it or not.

A shirtless man with a brilliant pink Mohawk carried two pitchers of beer through the bar, suds swishing over the edge and running down its sides. His eyes caught Orion and a mischievous grin revealed perfect teeth. Orion turned away, scanning the bar, but the man took a sliding sidestep directly out of his own path and into the saiyan’s. Orion bumped into his shoulder, and the man exaggerated the collision, stumbling back and dropping the pitchers of beer to the floor. They shattered and splashed beer everywhere.

“Hey!” the mohawked man shouted two inches from Orion’s face. “You made me drop my beer! Pay up now!”

Orion kept still, meeting the man’s wide eyed gaze that was apparently meant to scare him. “Move.”

“What was that?” he said. “Did you just tell me to move?

Orion wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the malcontent’s throat and squeezed. The bold stare quickly turned to bulging surprise. “I don’t give commands in order for them to be ignored. You didn’t move of your own accord, so now I’m deciding whether I move you with tremendous force or squeeze until you’re no longer in my way.”

The pink haired goon clawed at Orion’s hand but to no avail. He slipped a large hunting knife from his belt and thrust it into the saiyan’s chest. The blade clinked against his armour and bounced out of his hand.

Orion tightened his grip, changing the shade of the punk’s face. “And now you’re trying to kill me... I’ve always wanted to see how much pressure it takes to pop a human skull.”

“Orion? Hey, over here!”

The saiyan mercenary turned his gaze towards the voice. There was Elsin at the bar on the far side of the room, holding a tankard of beer as roughly as Orion held the punk. He took a measured breath to calm the anger welling in his mind.

“This is your lucky day,” Orion said, throwing the upstart into a nearby table. He barrelled the table over, launching beer and plates into the air.

Elsin pushed a skinny guy away that tried to sit on the vacant stool beside him. “See, I told you I’d save you a seat!”

Orion dropped himself next to the mech pilot. “So you did.”

“How... how did you find me?” Elsin asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“It took some time,” Orion said, motioning to the barkeep. “A dive like Markov isn’t exactly short on watering holes.”

“True. I didn’t say which bar was calling my name. So how did ol’ Masters take to your news? Eh?”

Orion received his beer and knocked back a mouthful. “He wasn’t pleased.”

“About the mech he lent you being destroyed or the theory that the feral robots are plotting a co-ordinated attack against the city?”

Orion glared at Elsin. They both knew whose fault it was that the mech was torn apart. “Both. He paid me after a... lively discussion, but I don’t think I’ll be working with the Pilot’s Union for a while. If ever again.”

Elsin chuckled. “Join the club.”

“And I don’t think he took the zoid threat seriously,” Orion said. “Probably thinks I ripped the part out myself and made up a story to help my case.”

“Ah well, what are you gonna do?” Elsin said dismissively.

Orion sank another swig of beer. “I’m going to find out what’s going on. And you’re going to help me.”

Elsin stopped mid-sip and coughed, spluttering beer from his lips. “Help you? How, exactly?”

“For starters, you’re going to tell me why a mech pilot was being chased by wolf zoids outside the city barrier without a mech and with no discernible reason for being out so far,” Orion said. “Then depending on how I like your answer, you’ll be accompanying me back out into the wilds.”

“Did... did you see me running from the wilds?” Elsin asked. “I’m not going back out there.”

“The mech loaned to me was ripped apart because I trusted you to keep it safe,” Orion said. “I saved your life when I could have easily ignored you. You saw what I just did to that fool over there. The least you can do is tell me why you were out there. Unless you’re trying to provoke me. In which case, I’d say it’s working.”

Elsin looked past the saiyan mercenary and to the mohawked miscreant. He growled angrily at the patrons that had their table tipped over by his flying body, still sporting red marks around his throat where Orion had strangled him.

“I get the idea you’re the kind of guy that won’t take no for an answer,” Elsin said.

Orion narrowed his eye. “Perceptive.”

Elsin took a deep breath and sighed into his tankard. “Fine. The truth is...”

The corrugated iron door slammed open. Everyone craned their necks to see the latest person to enter the bar in an exaggerated fashion. A figure donning a full face helmet strolled in with a pulse rifle slung over the back. Unlike the punk that blocked his way before, this one wasn't a pretender. The newcomer scanned the bar and strode right for the saiyan and his drinking partner.

“Are you Orion?” she asked.

The saiyan mercenary looked her up and down. He didn’t recognise anything about her. Judging by her light plated armour and weapon, she was a bounty hunter or mercenary. One of his kind. “Who’s asking?”

“The Pilots Union,” she said. “They need to discuss payment about damages. Damages you caused and have not fully reimbursed them for.”

Elsin turned away and lowered his head.

Orion got up from the bar and stood close to the paid goon. “I’ve already settled the debt.”

“Threatening the sergeant’s life if he didn’t pay you despite the irresponsible manner in which you conducted the job is settling the debt, is it?” she asked.

The saiyan hadn’t expected this. True, reporting back to Sergeant Masters got quite heated, but Orion was adamant that he would be paid for his work. It seemed Masters, despite capitulating, hadn’t fully agreed with the outcome of their meeting. Coward.

“So how does the Pilots Union intend for me to pay back this supposed debt?” Orion asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“That’s none of my concern,” the mercenary replied. “You’re to come with me, willingly or not. Then you’re the Pilots Union’s problem.”

“And what if I decide not to accompany you?” Orion asked, knowing full well how irritating such comments could be to a mercenary just trying to complete a job.

“I’m not here to debate your life choices,” the mercenary said. “You either come with me walking or... in a less than optimal state. I’m giving you the options. It’s up to you to choose.”

Orion had met her like before. Strong willed, tough and no-nonsense, she wouldn’t leave until the saiyan complied with her directive or she was forced to leave. Orion had no intention of going with her.

“Tell your Pilots Union masters that any and all debts are already paid,” Orion said. “Or otherwise void.” He turned his back on her and sat back on his stool.

Elsin still faced away. “Is she gone yet?”

“Don’t worry,” Orion said. “We’ll be in a punch-up in a moment and she’ll be lying on the floor out cold.”

Something sharp bit Orion’s neck and his body convulsed uncontrollably, knocking over his beer. He struggled long enough to realise a taser was flooding him with electricity before he slammed his head on the bar and passed out.
 
Top