Noturn Owlman M4 WS5 BS4 S3 T3 W3 I3 A2 LD9 (Bionic Right Arm)
This is a man's game an old man's game. Sitting at the corner of the bar was Tracy Lockjaw, he was an old bounty hunter. He had paid a pretty penny for life he had, he had had a lot of women. He could survive torture. Originally he had been working for a pit slave gang lost out in the Hive having been found with illegal spook while working for House Delaque. He had been found buying and selling spook on the open market. Or was at least accused of it. Really he was spared death because there was no evidence and after twenty months working in the mines he got himself off the stuff and was hired out to a chain gang of slave workers.
The gang disbanded, all contacts lost and Tracy had walked into a bar with fifty credits to his name and signed up as a lawman, a bounty hunter was sitting there. He asked him if he could have some recaff, he said fine.
"We could fix your arm." he said.
"Yeah, good, believing is seeing I suppose." said Tracy, tired and very happy for company.
Tracy had long hair and was fairly muscular, the claw arm he had been given had taught him a lot but as a fit and healthy young man. He was desperate for something for his longer held addiction, recaff.
"Well do not be ungrateful, I suppose we don't have too." sneered the older man.
"Ok then." Tracy waited. As he had trained with his gang, to just lie still. They would talk about the Eldar or Aeldari, the Iyanden were taking back a Tyranid homeworld from the space marines or something, out there in space, whereever space was in this industrial spire, known as the Underhive.
"Fine." said the bounty hunter, pouring him some recaff from his pot.
"You will learn the hot-shot hunting rifle from me, pistol is your back up and do not be afraid to crack someone around the head with it, if it goes off so much the better." he laughed a little to himself.
"Then of course you either use your double knives or you use a chainsword. I hardly use mine, I am a ranged fighter. Shotgun is just for guarding your room at the bar. Got it?"
Tracy nodded.
"Got it, good, that is how I teach you."
"Like private tution or something?"
"Exactly, you are kinda posh for a pit slave, want to learn law?"
"Yes please, I learnt a little ornithology and engineering once."
"Oh la la la la la. Blimey, you will be a natural with hot shot lasgun."
They smiled at each other, two vicious killers and hunters of people. From different streets and different backgrounds. And he did learn.
Some years later they were position in a gang and Tracy waved goodbye to the old bounty hunter, he could not remember his name.
"This guy is taking from me, treat him well, he has paid his dues, I am going out for a walk. I may be a while."
He turned and walked away. Three years turned by and suddenly Tracy was in the money, he had his salary for his expensive weapons and now his irritating arm was mostly not a nuisance. He swore he would get some stuff put over it for protection. He liked the knives they were quicker. Using his pistol a lot, like he trained as a pit slave he went up through the ranks of the bounty hunter clan he was part of.
Gang fight after gang fight. Arrest after arrest. He got the hang of law, biology in the end and of course kept his artisanal work assembling small devices. His chess game was poor but he was working on it. It was helping his hand. He was very tough and eventually after fighting off a spyrer gang nearly single handed he was asked to come in for a meeting. He had enough to retire. He dreaded the thought.
"Want to go offworld Tracy?" said an old man with a staff and a seal.
"Yes please, would be nice to see a Sun, whatever that is. I see them on the shows sometimes."
"Yes you do, let me just introduce you to my Officio Assassinorium friend."
Terrified Tracy looked about.
A shadow beneath the lamp passed and said:
"You will fight forever and you will keep going until I say, no test, your life starts now."
He saw a synthskin body and a lithe pair of swords.
"You will be the best with your knives and your pistols. Every used a fine knitting needle? It is good in self defense."
Tracy's fear passed and said under his breath.
"You got some recaff please? And yes I of course." he waited.
"Well well well, what a posh bounty hunter said the inquistor.
His life was over on necromunda. And off he went into the wilderness of space to see where the future would take him.
The End
This is a man's game an old man's game. Sitting at the corner of the bar was Tracy Lockjaw, he was an old bounty hunter. He had paid a pretty penny for life he had, he had had a lot of women. He could survive torture. Originally he had been working for a pit slave gang lost out in the Hive having been found with illegal spook while working for House Delaque. He had been found buying and selling spook on the open market. Or was at least accused of it. Really he was spared death because there was no evidence and after twenty months working in the mines he got himself off the stuff and was hired out to a chain gang of slave workers.
The gang disbanded, all contacts lost and Tracy had walked into a bar with fifty credits to his name and signed up as a lawman, a bounty hunter was sitting there. He asked him if he could have some recaff, he said fine.
"We could fix your arm." he said.
"Yeah, good, believing is seeing I suppose." said Tracy, tired and very happy for company.
Tracy had long hair and was fairly muscular, the claw arm he had been given had taught him a lot but as a fit and healthy young man. He was desperate for something for his longer held addiction, recaff.
"Well do not be ungrateful, I suppose we don't have too." sneered the older man.
"Ok then." Tracy waited. As he had trained with his gang, to just lie still. They would talk about the Eldar or Aeldari, the Iyanden were taking back a Tyranid homeworld from the space marines or something, out there in space, whereever space was in this industrial spire, known as the Underhive.
"Fine." said the bounty hunter, pouring him some recaff from his pot.
"You will learn the hot-shot hunting rifle from me, pistol is your back up and do not be afraid to crack someone around the head with it, if it goes off so much the better." he laughed a little to himself.
"Then of course you either use your double knives or you use a chainsword. I hardly use mine, I am a ranged fighter. Shotgun is just for guarding your room at the bar. Got it?"
Tracy nodded.
"Got it, good, that is how I teach you."
"Like private tution or something?"
"Exactly, you are kinda posh for a pit slave, want to learn law?"
"Yes please, I learnt a little ornithology and engineering once."
"Oh la la la la la. Blimey, you will be a natural with hot shot lasgun."
They smiled at each other, two vicious killers and hunters of people. From different streets and different backgrounds. And he did learn.
Some years later they were position in a gang and Tracy waved goodbye to the old bounty hunter, he could not remember his name.
"This guy is taking from me, treat him well, he has paid his dues, I am going out for a walk. I may be a while."
He turned and walked away. Three years turned by and suddenly Tracy was in the money, he had his salary for his expensive weapons and now his irritating arm was mostly not a nuisance. He swore he would get some stuff put over it for protection. He liked the knives they were quicker. Using his pistol a lot, like he trained as a pit slave he went up through the ranks of the bounty hunter clan he was part of.
Gang fight after gang fight. Arrest after arrest. He got the hang of law, biology in the end and of course kept his artisanal work assembling small devices. His chess game was poor but he was working on it. It was helping his hand. He was very tough and eventually after fighting off a spyrer gang nearly single handed he was asked to come in for a meeting. He had enough to retire. He dreaded the thought.
"Want to go offworld Tracy?" said an old man with a staff and a seal.
"Yes please, would be nice to see a Sun, whatever that is. I see them on the shows sometimes."
"Yes you do, let me just introduce you to my Officio Assassinorium friend."
Terrified Tracy looked about.
A shadow beneath the lamp passed and said:
"You will fight forever and you will keep going until I say, no test, your life starts now."
He saw a synthskin body and a lithe pair of swords.
"You will be the best with your knives and your pistols. Every used a fine knitting needle? It is good in self defense."
Tracy's fear passed and said under his breath.
"You got some recaff please? And yes I of course." he waited.
"Well well well, what a posh bounty hunter said the inquistor.
His life was over on necromunda. And off he went into the wilderness of space to see where the future would take him.
The End