A Long Time Coming...

Posted on Sun Jun 25th, 2017 @ 11:06pm by Chief Warrant Officer Daytona Ral

Mission: Death is in the Details
Location: Spaceport, Residential Area
Timeline: Current

Daytona quickly but discretely made his way towards the quarters Deshok was renting at the spaceport. He got a few odd looks, but he carried himself as though he belonged and therefore most people ignored him. This was a talent he'd developed over the years, being ignored. He was very good at it. Most people didn't notice him until it was too late. He'd need to be careful with Deshok, though. Deshok was on high alert.

In his quarters, Deshok was panicking. He'd tried to get in contact with his bodyguards but he couldn't reach them. Had that crazy cop killed them both by himself? That bastard Ral had been after him since he was a constable and spent fifty years trying to put him away. Deshok had slipped the noose every time. Ral just didn't seem to get the message, no matter what the Syndicate did to influence him. He wouldn't take bribes like the rest of the cops. Over the years, Deshok had sent people to 'convince' Ral to play along, but that got too expensive. Ral kept killing his guys and making it look legal. After almost five decades of this crap, Deshok's bosses had had enough. Do something about the cop and do it now, they said. His testimony is going to screw us bad this time. So, against his better judgement, Deshok kidnapped the cop's daughter, by then an adult, to get Ral to back off That didn't work out as planned. Ral started tearing the whole city apart to find his daughter and he testified anyway, costing the Syndicate a load of latinum. Gang rape her, his bosses said. That'll show him. So, against his better judgement, he had his men record video of themselves running a train on the woman from both sides at once. They sent the tape to Ral. They were going to dump her off in front of a police station, to send a message to all the cops. That idea went to crap when she was killed trying to escape. Deshok knew that he'd crossed the line this time. Daytona Ral was going to kill him if he didn't get out of there. So Deshok took ten of his best bodyguards and left the Rigel System. That was a year and eight dead bodyguards ago, and here was Deshok, about to run again. His bags were packed. All he needed was a ride out of here, one that he could afford, that is. Life on the run had drained his personal funds and the Syndicate had cut him off, blaming him for the whole mess back on Rigel V. At that very moment, Deshok was at the computer terminal in his quarters trying to find a ship that would take him on as a passenger. On the desk next to him was a plasma pistol. He hadn't had to use one in decades, because he'd risen high enough in the Syndicate that he'd been able to delegate most of the rough stuff to lower operatives. He was focused intently on what he was doing. His back was to the door.

As Daytona stalked through the corridors of the residential area, memories came flooding back. The first time he'd been here, it had taken him a while to get to Deshok's quarters. The tram stalled in a tunnel. By the time he got off, he was expecting he'd find Deshok's quarters empty. Instead he found Deshok's corpse with a knife handle sticking out of its chest. He'd taken the knife as a souvenir and used it countless times. Today, he was going to use it again, an ending for him, a new beginning for his younger self. After finding Deshok dead, feeling robbed of his revenge, he needed an outlet for all of that anger. He went on to spend the next fifty years as a mercenary, a hired gun...a hired killer. Today, though, today Daytona would finally get revenge for his daughter...who suffered a terrible fate because of his pride.

Daytona arrived at the hatch to Deshok's quarters. He tried his computerized lockpick on the door, but the door's locking mechanism was too low tech for the device to manipulate. Daytona swore softly and pulled out a more primitive set of tools. He carefully and quietly removed the panel concealing the hatch lock. Using his tools, he tricked the door into thinking he was using a properly coded key. The door opened. Unhurried, Daytona put his tools away. There was only one way in and out of these quarters for Deshok. He was too fat to fit in the ventilation shaft.

When the door flew open, Deshok almost defecated in his trousers and very nearly pissed himself. He made a grab for the plasma pistol, but instead knocked it off the desk. It flew under the bed. He knew he was no match for Daytona hand-to-hand. If he was going to stand a chance, he needed that pistol. He had no choice, he'd have to get down on the floor and try to get it out from under the bed.

When Daytona entered the room, he saw Deshok on the floor. He watched him a moment... then a moment more. He really didn't know why. Maybe he was enjoying watching his daughter's murderer make such a pathetic attempt to save his own miserable skin. Then an image of his daughter being assaulted appeared in his mind.

"Stand up, Deshok!" he said. "Your number is finally up."

At the sound of Daytona's voice, Deshok did lose control of his bladder and bowels, the foul stench filling the room with a sewer-like stink. The grip of the pistol was just at his fingertips. Finally, he grabbed it. This was it. This whole thing was going to end today. He was going to stand up and shoot Daytona Ral dead...then he was going to change his pants. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he was deluding himself. He knew there was no way he was fast enough to stand and shoot Ral before Ral took him out, but frankly he didn't know what else to do. Maybe if he could just get up on one knee? He had to try...

Daytona's nose wrinkled as his senses were assaulted with the stink of Deshok's excrement. He'd forgotten about this. At the time, he thought it had happened Deshok was stabbed. Most species voided their bowels and bladder upon dying. Now that he knew he had caused it, despite the stink, he smiled. He wanted to take a moment more to savor the experience, but he only had about ten minutes before his younger self arrived.

"Stand up," Daytona said. "At least die like a man...a man who just shat himself, but a man nonetheless."

Deshok came up with surprising speed and tried to level his pistol at Daytona. The Rigelian was faster. He sprang forward, grabbing Deshok's wrist and pushing the pistol to the side. Once clear of the pistol, Daytona drove his knife into Deshok's heart and twisted. He held the man long enough to feel the life drain out of him. Then Daytona dropped his enemy's corpse on the floor. He took only a moment to admire his work, then turned and left Deshok lying in a puddle of his own waste. This had been a long time coming. Now that it was done, he had other matters to attend to. He quietly left Deshok's quarters and went off to reunite with his team.