He had it made. Millions in his hand, for any
want he could desire. Respect, Fame, Infamy, Immortality in the minds
of millions. He was a god.
In some eyes.
He was a demon. The one you fear when gazing at the inky blackness you
call home. The Void. The great vacuum surrounding us all, in which we
dance, pirouette, and twinkle like a firefly with our multicolored
displays of high-powered weaponry. It was a beautiful show - a sight to
behold.
To one who knows.
To one who deals death by the scores, obliterates the young pilots of
Enhanced Breed, New Breed, Whatever breed, Whatever alliance.... it's
nothing but a blur. A smeared, stinking, searing, sordid blur. Of
Death. Not your run of the mill death. A death for no other reason but
that of your pocketbook, and of your professional "honor".
To a pilot.
It is an adrenaline rush. The scintillating dance whereby we extinguish
the light of hope behind that other transparisteel cockpit. The
exhilirating thrill of crushing beneath your heel any who dare to
merely insult your client. No mercy. Annihilation, retribution, proof
of the "contract", and another life, gone as if it never existed. It
was just an explosion. Those whose terrified faces weren't mere meters
from your own, frozen in fear, yet courageously battling from within
their own technological wonder, struggling to keep their life their own
in a life or death "entangement".
To a casual observer.
The Black Death. A sable avenger, come to right a perceived wrong. Are
they after you? You hope not. In the vast majority of instances, that
ship, cloaked in the night that spawned it, is merely your death knell.
That is the way of the Fist. No prisoners, no mercy (unless
unequivocably stated in the contract request, of course). The Pale
Rider on a Dark Horse, come to steal your soul. Vengeance is mine,
saith - the customer.
To the Customers.
The consummate professionals. No complaints about our work. They ask
it, they pay for it, the target is dead. No questions asked beyond the
usual first investigative inquiries. To hire the Devil's Fist is to
ally yourself with the Devil. The devil, however, is more forgiving. To
slight the Devil's Fist is to become a target. Being a Customer, they
know what it is to bring their ire.
