Even Heroes Have Fallout

[James Justice]

Rattatak.

He had grown up here. His father had died here. His sister, his brother, had all been here too. The young man stared at the barren ground, rage filled his heart as his feet pushed him further along.

Abandoned.

Neglected.

Exiled.

The son of the chieftain let a bitter tear roll down his face and splash on the ground. In less than 48 hours his world had been changed. All 48 hours, years ago. And it had been his fault. That--that man. The man who killed his father. The man who swore he would help and instead only brought heart ache. It was because of him that their village was gone now. It was him that caused the world to fall apart around him.

Madlon raised his face to the midnight sky, "Curse you James! Curse you to the bloody hells, may you burn forever!"

He felt a wave of sudden calm. He knew what he had to do now. He had to kill him. He had to kill James Justice. The young man's steps came with more confidence and assurity. Once more his life had meaning. He would feel the blood of his father's killer run down his short sword. He would watch it trickle down his own arm and lick it off. Oh yes, he would have his revenge and it would be so sweet. Then he would kill the female who had helped him. What was her name? Empress. That's right. Empress Kay. (([member="Lady Kay"])).

It was a pity. She had helped heal him, and now she would die on the blood-letting blade as well. But he would have his revenge. One way or the other.

 

[James Justice]

As Madlon's feet walked across the night ground, he straitened his back, resolved once more. The rage in his heart let all fatigue leave him. He had to make it to the city before the sun rose. There he would board or steal a ship. He had no credit chips, the villagers did not use those worthless pieces of plastic. Their currency was a set of white rare beads made from slate rocks and shells, strung on strings and carried from their belts. If they refused he would--he would kill them. And steal the ship.

The idea gave the young man a sense of pleasure for some reason. Yes, he would kill them and feel no remorse. He would kill and kill again, and continue to kill until there were stacks of bodies and rivers of blood. Then---

well then he would kill again. And he would make them fear his name.

His mind went back to the time the Empress and James had come to their village. His father, Dargquin had called for help from James, the man who had given them weapons before in dark times. He had rescued them before, he had helped stop them from dying. The chief had believed that the spacer would be their savior once more when they were captured. That was when his father died. And his older brother, leaving him and Nelwan to lead the village.

But they were no warriors. And they were no chiefs either. Nelwan was a seer, gifted in visions of the future and the present. But there were no more seers left to teach her to harness her gift. They had all been killed. There were no more warriors left to guard the city or teach the youth the art of the blood-letting blades. The hunting came sparse. The weak began to die; first the old, then the children.

And that was when Madlon and Nelwan had to make the had choice.

A sob escaped his lips. No. He pushed it down into his soul. He had to be strong. He had to not let this destroy him. He would not be weak, he would be the strongest of the strong. And he would not fail again. Not this time.

"Kill James," he began to chant, "Kill James. Kill James. Kill James...."

 

[James Justice]

The captain laughed a roaring laugh in Madlon's face. He looked away in shame and anger, feeling flecks of spittle on his face.

James did this to me. James did this to us. He reminded himself. If he hadn't killed my dad, if he never would have gotten involved, this never would have happened.

"Get outta here, boy, go play with beads somewhere else," he belted cruelly.

The three others, shameful aliens laughed along too. It only added more anger and spite to the young man's rage, "James did this. James did this to me."

The offworlders laughed harder at his mumblings, "We don't care which of your gods did this to you. Go--"

Madlon's blade came from its sheath in a flash, slicing a clean cut across the captain's windpipe. The man fell back, mouth gaping as he tried to breath, blood flowing into his lungs. The aliens stood in shock a fraction of a second, it was long enough for Madlon to act. He twisted alongside a Rodien, ramming his shortsword into the back of its neck, severing the spinal cord. Its death was done before the native even twisted behind him and rammed the blade into the Zabrak's chest, tearing a hole in one of its hearts. Screaming, it fell back as blood gushed from the gaping wound. The Duro beside him recoiled long enough to unholster his pistol and raise it partially. But Madlon was by far faster. The tip of the blood-letting blade rammed deep through its skull, tearing out the back. Those red alien eyes flickered out before Madlon discarded the body and moved to the choking to death Captain.

"Years ago," Madlon said glaring into the captian's face, "my tribe was dying. We had no food. The crops were dead. The famine was strong. Our hunters and warriors were killed in a fight. The old, the young, the weak, were all dying, you know what we did?"

The captain, his life ebbing away like sand through an hourglass listened, grabbing at his throat, trying--trying to grasp his life as it slipped through his fingers. His eyes, wide open were an inch from Madlon's.

"We ate them," Madlon said, "One. By. One. To survive, you know who's fault that was?" His eyes glared, "James'."

Angry, his blade tore a hole in the captain's chest, cutting its life free. Disgusted he stepped over the body and into the ship. Time to get to vengeance..... Long delayed vengeance.