Having the business end of a laser-pistol leveled between your eyes has a power all its own. Something about the boxy frame around the tiny barrel along with the almost inaudible whining hum that activates to the owner’s palm print. Their finger on the trigger. It focuses the mind not quite like anything else in all the systems, I’ve ever seen. You go into a beautifully focused trance and you recognize that there is nothing but a tiny beam of invisible light between existence and cold, merciless death.
“I would say you have my attention Mr…?” The mine boss was dressed to the nines. Perfect creases on his suit pants. His vest, bright pink. His white hat in hand. Not a drop of sweat, speak of dust or scrap of mud had ever touched those clothes. His hair was perfectly greased in the latest fashion from the inner core. Well fed, well rested, with the best of everything, he’d lived a life of comfort and ease. Far different from the lives of those in his mines.
Little better than slaves they toiled, sixteen-hour days and more, from the moment the dark red sun illuminated the sky in the morning, until the long hours of sunset. Covered in the grey and red dust from the mines, they guzzled the strong dark beer that the overseer provided and gathered a handful of baked clay tokens that were a substitute for money. The clay tokens were useless except as novelties.
Only the black-market schemes among the sailors brought any real credits to the laborers. And they had saved them. The better part of a decade they’d hoarded their stash. Hidden it from the overseers, from thieves, from their own wants and desires. Clay tokens became coins. Coin piled on top of coin until they had enough for an Imperial Credit. And then another. Piling one Credit on top of the other. Just to pay my fees.
“I’m called the Raven.” I answered. My voice was steady. One thing about jobs like this. There were a lot of assholes in the world, and putting another one in the ground was a part of the job I liked. The laser-pistol in my hand was one of my favorites. Heavy, strong and deadly accurate. I could pick off flies at a hundred paces. Had a couple of times just to see if I could.
The mine boss hit his knees. I pretended not to notice the stream of wet soaking through his perfect pants and down to his knees. Everyone knew that once I’d been called, there was no other recourse. They were as good as dead. I let him mumble a few words. Prayers to the god of rich assholes who treat others like meat.
The twitch of the finger, the pulse of light that pierced the front of his forehead, turning the back of his brain into soup in a nano-second. It was all over and done with. I had turned around and left the room before his body collapsed forward onto the floor. I transferred half of the credits into my account and left the rest. My usual practice when the truly poor put the call out for a hired killer. Swift as I came to their little planet I left.
Another job done.
Earn free bitcoin
