Outlaws (The Slingers Trilogy, Book 2)

Prologue

He awoke with the computer beeping directly in his face. He lifted his head from the controls groggily and looked around. His right wing was smoking, and had sustained some major damage. The ship's engines were completely offline. Beyond repair. He was effectively stuck. He shook his head, trying to remember what exactly had happened. He remembered a large ship. He'd had some sort of mission to complete...then he remembered the man. The man in black with the two swords. They had fought in some sort of duel. Then...he had spared him. He remembered running through some white hallways, then to his ship. As he had flown away, he remembered a large white flash behind him, and a massive explosion. It had knocked him unconscious, and he had woken up to find his ship drastically off-course, and flying towards this planet...When he flashed back to the memory, the back of his neck began to burn. He grimaced and grabbed it. He could feel the lines of the barcode that had been branded into his skin. He ran his fingers over it and felt the small numbers.

0000-0000

He grit his teeth and focused on the task at hand. He extended his leg and kicked out the front of the cockpit screen, and staggered out. He instantly felt the grainy and soft sand beneath his boots, and he fell down to it's warmth. The next thing he was aware of was the blazing hot sun over his head. It burned into his eyes, and he looked away. He noticed his white helmet inside the cockpit. He crawled back over, and pulled off the red visor on the front of it. He fashioned a pair of goggles with some industrial wiring that had fallen out. He noticed something else inside that made him flash back. It was a long katana, with a perfectly polished and sharpened blade. Underneath it was a small portion that, when activated, would project a small plasma cutter blade. It could be used to very useful results. He noticed that the handle had been cut in half. He remembered the man in black slicing it during their duel. He also remembered the first time that sword had been given to him. The Director had given it to him, and told him to use this weapon in any way that would benefit his mission. He had of course complied, because if he hadn't, the Director would have made The Hurting come back. He always hated the constant Hurting. It was everywhere. It was there in his sleep, in his dreams, his nightmares...But the Director always made The Hurting go away. So he did what he was told. But he had failed. He knew that he had failed. He didn't want The Hurting to come back. So he ran away. And now he was nowhere. But The Hurting hadn't come back. It always did, though. He had to be ready for when it did. So, he started walking, taking the sword with him. He walked, not knowing where he was going. But it didn't matter.

Sean March was a simple blacksmith who lived in the small town of Jeshum. They were a tiny settlement on the barren planet of Hequur. He had never seen anywhere outside the planet, but he didn't really care. He loved crafting weapons, and he ran a legitimate and profitable business. He and his wife had always been together in this profession, and ran the store together. They didn't see much activity, and everyone around town knew each other. Thankfully, the GDF had no interest in this planet, so not many visits from them were expected. He was manning the front of the shop today, and was cleaning a weapon when he heard the front door open. He smiled and looked up. "Welcome to Jeshum Blacksm-" His words caught in his throat as he saw who walked in the door. It was a man with long blonde hair, wearing a pair of makeshift red goggles and GDF armour, and carrying a large sword. Sean backed up slightly. He had never seen anything like this before. Who was this man? The stranger stood in the doorway for a moment, then walked forward. Sean saw sand all over his body. Did he walk here?! He thought to himself. The stranger placed his sword down on the table. He looked up at him, and Sean saw with a sense of terror that the man had yellow eyes. "I need this fixed." He muttered. Sean stared down at the sword. It was a katana with a plasma cutter attachment. High-class technology. The man kept staring at Sean, who gulped and finally spoke up. "I-I can get that done for you...in a few days. On the house." The man kept staring at Sean, and then nodded. He turned and walked out of the store. Sean let out a breath and looked at the sword. Whoever that man was, he pitied whoever was going to be on the receiving end of this thing.