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In the Earth year AE 179 mankind had begun to explore the outer reaches of our solar system. There they found the planet 115SR103, named Freyja after the Norse goddess of fertility and simply called 115, the 115th planet discovered since man had managed to see out beyond the dwarf planet Ceres, here the explorers found remains of an ancient alien civilization. Human corporations geared up and rushed out to go get rich sending out 3 colonization ships to dig for this technology, and merge it with their own. They landed within a decade of taking off and began breaking down the ships to form the colonies, but now, 6 years after they landed, there are no alien ruins. Now the people of the colony town New Hope are trying to survive on a desolate barren planet, with no water, and resources draining out. Here is the tale of one of those people.

“Here in New Hope we live, here is where we will die, and here is where we laugh at the sadistic irony that is the towns name.” Jakob Reuter ‘Journal of Jakob’ circa- AE 204.

He sat with his feet sprawled out on the desk, his dusty worn boots leaving prints on the fine oak wood, while he cleaned out his .45 Reaper; the ticking of a clock in the background filling in the silence in between the shifting of metal parts. The man’s face carried the hardened lines of a man who knew nothing but fighting. His black beady eyes were cold and distant, as if they wanted nothing but to kill you, but the people of New Hope knew Brian Nichols better than most. Brian felt like he was getting to old for the life he lived anymore, so he spent most of his time modifying guns for people. He glanced up and over to the corner at the fully automatic assault rifle in the shadows; its design was reminisce of the old AK-47, but with a few tricks in it, such as explosives in the stock and the tracer rounds that exploded upon impact. He was asked to change the barrel out and was given the new one; this new barrel was from a machine gun that was mounted on the Rail Slider buggies. How the man got hold of one was something that Brian wasn’t up for hearing. Everyone knew that the Lawless outside of the towns were the ones who drove Rail Sliders; the bandits who would hijack caravans of supplies going to and from the mines or outposts. Every once in a while, the bandits would get lucky and get something that was important, and guns for hire like Brian had to go out and get it back. Brian spat in the corner of his small, dimly lit shop as he thought on those bandits; how they just took and never gave back. Always hurting the innocent folk who were just trying to survive her in the desolate world. They were the reason everyone was going to die on this rock. No one was willing to band up and work together with them on the prowl, just a lawless zone. Brian stood up slowly, holstering his Reaper into his thigh holster, and walked towards the bathroom. He turned the faucet on and washed his face up, washing the memories away with the cleansing of the tears left unshed like anyone would with dirt. While he was drying the water off with an old dirty rag he looked at himself in the mirror. The image of a man with short sleek black hair that was adorned silver haired temples stared back at him with a toothy grin. His weather worn face was darkened and wrinkled with the passing of time and too much sunlight, ‘Oh yeah, I am definitely getting too damn old for this’, Brian thought to himself with a chuckle.

“What do ya’ think that Chrissie is serving for lunch today old dog?” Brian asked aloud, smiling that confident toothy grin as he grabbed his long coat and wide brimmed hat off the rack near the door and set himself to go find out the answer to just that.

The streets always seemed desolate and empty besides the display screens broadcasting images and data from the Central Tower. A tension always hung in the air and it was so tight, that if a needle hit it, it would backlash into a complete war zone. Brian walked the metallic streets with his hat down over his dark eyes with his fingertips thrumming the handle of the Reaper. Everyone in New Hope knew of Brian Nichols and what the man had lived through. They knew that he could be the best of friends you ever had, or the worst of enemies you wish you never made. Everyone knew that if you crossed Brian Nichols, you ended up with a bullet in you. Brian knew he wasn’t always this way; he became that way when his wife and two kids were killed by the Lawless, forcing the former CEO into the man he was now, a hardened gun for hire. The wind had swirled up and kicked dirt and sand left on the streets from vehicles and relentless sandstorms into his face, bringing him back to the present, as he walked by Dr. Andrew’s office.

“Might as well see how the old doc is doing while I’m out this way. See if he needs anything”, Brian told himself as he found himself walking though the door to escape the sand storm that was about to engulf the town.

Bright artificial lighting illuminated the small waiting room. There were no decorations, just the cold metal walls and hard plastic furniture surrounding Brian. The low buzzing noise of generators could be heard in the walls, bringing this lifeless building to artificial life. Brian waved at the secretary as he walked on by, some pretty face that changed every time he came through here. Most of the women ended up working at the Central Tower, it was safer there, but occasionally the one doctor left on this entire rock managed to snag a pretty face to organize papers. She smiled and went to stop him but the memory of the bruise on her face held her fast to her chair with her eyes downcast. Brian never understood why men hit women, it just never settled right with him, but of course everyone called him old fashioned. As he neared the room in the back, the steel heels on his boots clanking against the metal flooring, Brian heard a painful scream escape the back left room. Brian took a deep breath and drew his gun quietly and moved silently towards the back, making sure not to make any noises with his steps. He pressed his back to the wall when he had made his way to the door, his breaths slow and measured as he tried to form a mental image of the room and what was happening. Brian turned and hit the open switch on the door with his gun raised and the hammer back. What he saw was not what Brian had expected. A local ruffian, barely 15 with sandy blonde hair and too skinny to be any real threat, had gotten cut on the arm, and Dr. Andrew was trying to sew it up, but the boy was howling at every p***k of the needle.

“Hold still you big baby, you can take a knife in the arm but you can’t take a little needle? I swear hold still or Brian there will make you hold still”, Andrews said in a serious tone. Brian leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and looked the boy in the eyes with a look that said ‘Oh I’ll do it’. The whining boy held still with only a few whimpers as Andrews finished sowing his arm up. “Now get out of here, and try not to be back next week with another stab wound”, Andrew said as he washed his hands up of the blood.

“Hey doc”, Brian said with a slow nod his hat taken off and resting in his hands.

“Ah, yes Brian. How are you m’boy? Getting fed right? Taking care of your self? Dear god, you didn’t get shot again did you?” Andrew asked as he began to look Brian over. Brian laughed and tried to turn and face the doc; finally exasperated he gave into the check up and let Andrew look him over.

“Now will you believe I am just here to see how you are doing doc? I just wanted to see if you needed anything. I was on my way to Chrissie’s for some grub when a storm way laid me and so I came here to see how you were. So, how are you doing old timer?” Brian asked with a smile on his face, taking Andrew’s hand into a tight handshake.

“Well I have been good, beside fool boys like you and him keep me busy. I treat more gunshot and stab wounds than anything else. I haven’t had an ill patient in the better part of 5 months, but I have had 5 gunshot wounds today. Go get sick Brian, that’s what I need. Is for you to get sick, and not get shot”, Andrew said chuckling and moving his grey hair out of his light blue eyes. Soon the pair was laughing and guffawing with each other as they shared jokes in the front room, and humorous stories of Earth.

“Hey Brian”, Andrew said when the two had calmed a little bit, “There is one thing I want for you to do. See the young misses there? She was hit yesterday running an errand for me. I want you to find those guys and rough them up for me. I don’t have the money Brian to pay, you know I treat people for free.”

Brian stood there a moment looking over Andrew, “Keep your money old friend. I was going to find out anyways and deal with it myself. I never liked a man who hit a woman”. Brian put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder patting it as he walked on by with a grin and out the door, on his way to Chrissie’s to get a bite and to dig up some leads on the woman abuser.

“Here in New Hope there are a few things you can find at Chrissie’s. Good beer and food, you can find a woman’s company for the night, or you can even find a good fight. Chrissie’s is known for one thing though. It’s loose lips if you get what I mean” Vickie Donovan ‘Working the town’ circa- AE 203

Brian sat at the bar with his back against the bar, his .45 Reaper in the open for all to see that he was armed. Somehow he had managed to lose his hat in a fight out back and his black hair was strewn across his forehead. He held a pint of beer in one hand as he eyed the crowd with a level gaze, his eyes straining slightly in the dim lighting that illuminated the bar. He looked for anyone who fit the description of the man that he was told of when he beat the mugger out back in an alleyway on his way to Chrissie’s. He took another long gulp of his beer before setting it down, waving the empty glass away, trying to ignore the horrible music in the back from the broken jukebox.

“Hi Brian, what brings you out here?” a delicate female voice called out to him. Brian turned towards the bar to see a pale brunette smiling at him with her green eyes.

“Hey there Chrissie. Bah, I’m just looking for a good meal and a man who calls himself The Lion. Anything you hear of around here?” Brian asked in a low tone. Chrissie picked up a glass and began to clean it looking at Brian.

“Why you wish to know?” She asked looking at him; all the mirth had escaped her voice.

“You know the new secretary at Doc Andrew’s? Word is he is the man who messed her face up, and I’m looking to settle the score”, Brian’s dark eyes seemed as if they were boring holes down into Chrissie and the look of sympathy that crossed her eyes knew that he had asked the right person.

“Yeah he comes here quite a bit. Gets a little fresh with the serving girls and sometimes slaps ‘em up right good. Brian I want you to get that son of a b***h and you kill him for the girls and me. Bring his head back here and I’ll treat you right myself tonight”, Chrissie said in hurried tone before leaning across the bar to place her lips to Brian’s; sliding her tongue into his mouth and allowing a few seconds before breaking the kiss and going away, leaving a fresh beer in her place. Brian chuckled and turned towards the crowd again shaking his head all the while with thoughts of how much trouble he could get into with a girl like her.

The evening was growing late and patrons started leaving, and Brian was about to give in for the night and try again when a group of Lawless came into the tavern loudly. A serving girl was unfortunately in the way and they tossed her aside holding clubs and guns for any that dared to make any move against them. One of the bouncers nodded at Brian telling him this was the group that he was supposed to look out for, and Brian guessed by the looks of it that the man in red was The Lion. Brian drank the rest of his beer and stood up and walked towards the group, checking his surroundings and trying to formulate a plan. He walked to the table and took one of the men’s drink with his gun drawn, already aimed at The Lion.

“You’re The Lion eh? You want some bargaining chips? I got some loot if you are interested. A real good deal, fresh food supplies straight from Central Tower’s Agriculture Department. I can get you a cut, just got to go to Runner’s Canyon out of town. Meet me up on the south high ridge if you are interested. If not…” Brian trailed off and started to squeeze on the trigger. The man at the end of the barrel stared back at Brian. One could see why they called him The Lion. Dark brown beard and hair on his head that seemed to spread out wildly and his skin golden tanned, but his eyes gave the man away, there was a fear and desire there and Brian knew the man would agree.

“Forty five minutes and you better be at Runner’s Canyon or I will come find you”, Brian said as he holstered his gun but not taking his hand away from it. Brian turned and walked out the door taking one of the Rail Sliders the Lawless brought with them and went off to the east towards Runner’s Canyon.

“Runner’s Canyon got its name when the first of the colonies started. They used to race messages back and forth before the radio towers were built, and the Lawless used to sit out and take pot shots at the Gulch Darts, trying to get the messages.” Dr. Petronavich ‘The Study of 115’ circa- AE 200

Brian leaned against the Rail Slider up on the south ridge, both of 115’s moons lit the soon to be battle field up like day time, when he saw some headlights racing towards him up the canyon roads.

“About damn time”, Brian muttered to himself.

He put his hand on the pistol noted that The Lion was there and drew slowly, taking aim and opening fire on the driver. The vehicle swerved radically and began a wild flip towards Brian, kicking dust and dirt up. One of the unfortunate Lawless was thrown off the Slider out into the canyon, his screams could be heard as he fell down the walls. Brian dove out and rolled at the last second firing into the openings and hitting the driver repeatedly. He rose up on his knees, spitting out sand and dirt as he fumbled to change the cylinder out to a fresh one. Two of the Lawless, neither of them The Lion, managed to crawl out of the smoldering wreckage with their small machine guns and opened fire on Brian. The weapon smith jumped down the canyon wall, sliding on the wall to the next ledge down. As he ducked away into an opening in the canyon walls, Brian managed to reload his Reaper. His heartbeat had risen up high enough to where the cybernetic enhancements he paid for began to work. His vision faded into a red as his senses and reflexes became more sensitive, he could feel every muscle twitch and hear much better. Time seemed to distort as heard the 2 Lawless begin to slide down to the next level, and the Lion was following them now. ‘Too easy’, Brian thought to him self as the first of the Lawless walked out in front of the opening. The poor man turned to face the opening only to be greeted by a face full of .45 bullets. Brian ran out behind the body using it for cover and fired along the canyon walls, using the fragmented rock to keep the 2 distracted enough so they couldn’t return fire. Brian scrambled quickly back up the wall and was changing his cylinders out again as he looked for cover while running. A sharp pierce hit his calf and another in thigh and he went down. Brian turned as he was falling and squeezed out the rounds of his last cylinder into the Lawless with the sub-machine gun, dropping him. His leg throbbed as the nerves came back to life and they screamed when they found the bullet. With his heightened senses, he felt like his leg was going to explode, so Brian had resigned himself to his fate and death. The Lion though thought that the man was still dangerous, so he turned and ran towards the Rail Slider, trying desperately to escape. Brian wasn’t going to let him go, so he forced himself back on his feet. Spitting sand and dirt out from his face, and clutching his wounded leg as he groaned with each step. He fell over beside the machine gun and checked its clip and found a spare on the Lawless’s body. The Lion was almost to the wreckage as Brian fired the clip off into the man’s back bringing the great man down just before the Sliders. Brian limped over to The Lion as the man drew his last breaths, ragged and shallow. The man looked at Brian with a look of fear and contempt as his eyes glazed over, as if asking, ‘Why me?’ For that Brian had no answer, he had seen the look hundreds of times, and he doubted it would be the last one. As he tossed the newly acquired shotgun into the Slider, Brian looked out at the canyon as the sun began to creep over the horizon illuminating the canyon, showing no green, no water, just wasteland.

“But this wasteland is home old dog”, Brain said to himself with a sigh as he started to drive off to New Hope.

“They say the Lawless are truly despicable men, and some say they are just misunderstood. I on the other hand, understand them. They seek to survive, as do we all, on this rock called 115, but they have one great enemy, Brian Nichols” Chrissie White ‘Thoughts on New Hope’ circa- AE 205