Bang Bang

[Maris Fero]

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[Efavan Low City, Vorzyd V (Gambler's World), Outer Rim.] Bang Bang ​

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The quartet of youths was silhouetted against the glitzy skyline of the casino complex. The MezNez. The Vitalo Lounge. The Comanu Star. Half a million glowing windows and balconies overlooked the grim tableau. The potential was there for over a million witnesses to form an audience to the deeds unfolding on the quiet, forgotten construction platform.

The chase had taken almost an hour, climbing from level to level. Kaperko knew the lay of the land as well as any of the gangers, but one against nearly twelve had left him next to no chance of escaping. Naetin Kaperko had been something, a real piece of work. At fourteen he had taken charge of the Lower-L crew and was running snatches from Lower-L to Upper-R; He had survived a game of the high-chase with Neelat Buur and sucker-punched the thug, Nesto, who backed up the King-of-Lamps. He had been a legend.

At nineteen Naetin Kaperko was done. The legend rested on his knees at the end of a shorn away gangway, suspended over a drop to the abyssal depths of the lowest hab levels far below.

The warm breeze did little to overcome the oppressive heat that still lingered in the city, but none amongst the four cared much about the temperature at that moment.

There had been five, before tonight. Five ready to step up and name themselves as the sole authority amongst the Efavan youth gangs; Naetin Kaperko had been a frontrunner, of course, with the will and the guile to take the title. Now, only a handful of hours later he knelt before his peers awaiting a death he knew was both imminent and inevitable.

“You never could stick to the code could you, Naet?” growled the tallest shadow, his arm outstretched with a blasterpistol trained on the kneeling ganger. The voice was gruff, tired and slightly out of breath. Though it was deep enough to be a man the words possessed a juvenile nasal edge to the tone. Akro Mallit was a brute of a Hrakian youth. His own gang the Carriks had a reputation for being thickheaded, slow and prone to violence. The truth was less cut and dry.

“.. Listen- guys! I-”

“Save it Kaperko,” the second figure interrupted, Melort was a lank and tall Selonian, her dark eyes glinting as she hissed a curse at the crouched prey. Melort’s claim to the throne was the most tenuous, her own people were not as numerous in the undercity, her own gang tended to house the misfits or oddities. “You made us chase you all the way up here… We know what you did. Maris know’s the code.”

“M-Maris?! Listen, she did this. Not me!”

The final statue sighed softly and tossed her hair back to clear her vision. Grey eyes glanced to the other gangers before she shook her head gently. The young woman started to pace slowly, choosing her moment and allowing his words sink in before she spoke.

“Naet.. I trusted you to be better than this.. “ Maris stated, her rebuke punctuated with a look of disappointment - pouting her lips before shaking her head again. “Akro and Mel have spoken to your team, Mevo and his little rat friends.."

“I never t-touched him, You did it! O-Or he fell?”

She watched the man’s poor confused face as he tried once again to process what had happened on this self-same spot only hours earlier. She offered him a sad consolatory smile and signalled her disappointment once more, though in truth she had no better explanation than he did.

“He came to you under a truce Naitin.” Maris repeated the charges once more, still as damning as the last time they were uttered. “I was there, you were just so so angry..”

Maris kept her face neutral and voice level as she fought back the grin that threatened to reveal itself at any minute.

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She had called for the truce on Balo’s behalf; A neutral party - neutral ground. It had been easy enough work stoking Naitin’s anger all week, preparing him, pushing him to the point she was sure he would break any truce to prove himself to her and to the others. Balo was an idiot - he had been rash and stupid to try and poach Naitin’s best people, and Maris had been more than ready to capitalise on the acrimony between the two rival gang leaders.

It had been a tense confrontation. Balo had come with a pair of his most reliable fighters as protection, Naitin had brought the punk Mevo and a scrawny rodent faced kid with big eyes.

They had climbed the old abandoned service platform, stood in sweltering heat of the sunlight high above their territories beneath the smog-line., Maris had chosen the spot herself. All she had needed to do was sit and wait for the fireworks.

The two had postured at first, neither willing to back off, then the voices had become raised, hackles rose and violence could only be so far away. Maris watched the two blaze away at each over in the uncomfortable sunlight, letting her hair shield her eyes from the worst of the brightness as she quietly smiled to herself and waited for someone to snap.

Naitin was first to loose his cool, grabbing the scruffy collar of Balo’s coat and hauling the heavy kid toward the edge. Suddenly everyone was moving, both sets of muscle pairing off to confront one another, Maris moving closer to the leaders to hear what was going on, playing the part of the mediator for the second.

Once she was close enough she curled her fists and watched with barely contained fascination.

“... You think you can speak to me like you’re better than me Balo?! Huh”

“Naitin.. Man wow slow down Naitin.. truce remember?!” Balo was wide eyed, heels already over the edge of the drop gripping Nait’s wrists in desperation as tried to support, his eyes passed over to Maris and he pleaded his case to her “Maris.. The truce, he has to stop yeah girl?”

Now Naitin was looking at her too, suddenly coming to realise some of what he was doing at that moment, beginning to blink as he tried to dial back his rage.

Maris’ heart was in her throat, she felt the thunder of her pulse and felt like she could feel their pulses matching her own. Everything on the platform seemed so simple. So connected. She had played this little game to the conclusion and now - now there was nothing left to do but end it.

Suddenly Maris grinned and stifled a laugh as she realised how ridiculously easy this had all been, she shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes, though only Balo and Nait could see her face or hear her words.

“Oh boys…” she whispered to the two of them, suppressing the smile again. “Nait, push Balo off of the roof.” she ordered in a quiet yet confident tone.

Nait simply looked on in confusion for a moment, looking to and from Balo and his hands as if struggling with the idea.

“Come on Nait, just do what you want..” she offered the option with a soft friendly smile - as if it was all very reasonable - before once again taking a step closer, a little under five paces from the two.

Balo was struggling and babbling now, shaking his head in disbelief as he spoke “Maris?! Please, Nait don’t do this, you can have my guys? I’ll work for you now!-”

Maris shook her head again and looked to Nait with disappointment, this time sounding disappointed in him, daring him to make the choice. “Come on you coward, Do it Nait, show us all how brave you are Nait…”

Nait shook his head and pulled Balo back from the edge a fraction, glaring at Maris and loosening his grip on Balo. “Who are you calling coward?! I’m no-”

“It’s easy Nait, Just push.” she insisted, willing him to take the plunge, damn himself just as she wanted, she even gestured the action she wanted him to take, imagining him pushing Balo off, imagining Nait damning himself.

Balo fell.

Had he lost balance? Had Nait nudged him?

Something had occurred in that moment and the heavy set human ganger fell back over the edge with more force than Maris had expected. Her eyes widened, open mouthed; She looked to Nait who had just stared back at her mouth opening and closing wordlessly in shock. Across the platform both sets of thugs had stopped mid brawl and looked at each other in doubt at what came next.

Slowly, and with faltering steps Maris backed away, eyes not leaving Naitin’s, Her heart seemed thunderously loud in her ribcage, and with the tension dispelled she suddenly realised how cold she felt with sweat, despite the incredible heat of the roof.

She watched as Naitin looked over the edge once more, then back to her, clenching his fists and looking confused “I.. I didn’t push him..” he insisted shaking his head.

“Run, Nait," she urged, suddenly feeling the weight of the action on them both. "Run as fast as you can.”

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“You pulled him over the edge…” Akro completed the tale as he had been told it, “You’re own boy tell it to me Naitin, Mevo says he watched you threaten Balo, hold him out there.”

“I didn’t push him, Maris told me to do it”

“Nah Nait, you’re boy saw her reach out to try and stop you, but you pushed him.” Akro concluded with a shake of his head, pistol still levelled at the youth’s chest. “You killed at a parlay Kaperko.. No one does business like that.”

Melort stepped to Akro’s right and spat in Nait’s direction “You need a code to live by..” she growled and shook her head to Naitin, turning on the spot and walking away, inclining her gaze to Maris respectfully as she moved to stand by her side.

Maris stepped up to Akro's side now and slowly sank to perch on her haunches, face level with Nait's. She offered a rueful smile and shook her head to the dismayed youth, in way of a confirmation of his fears - pausing a moment to compose her thoughts before delivering her the words.

“We took a vote Nait, before we came for you,” Maris explained in a measured tone, voice level enough to disguise that thundering heartbeat again, the buzz in the air at the tension. “You’re out Naitin Kaperko.”

“-Maris I didn’t -” he was already trying to argue his innocence once again before she had delivered the pronouncement, but his words were cut should by the laser discharge as the single shot from Akro’s pistol carried out the sentence.

Silence fell as the body slumped and fell from the high precipice, all around them a million pleasure seekers gambled and partied the night away, a million possible witnesses had front row seats to the last moments of Naitin Kaperko, the Lord of Lower - L and yet none paid them any attention.

And then there were three.

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OOC: if anyone feels like adding anything send me a pm.​