“Okay!”

I swung the pipe at Sparky's arm. He grabbed it mid-air and bent it sideways, violently flinging it onto the deck.

“Your responses may be more than ample but you must remember… On a planet where everyone has weapons except for in the heart of the great cities itself. One must know when to run and when to fight.

Almost every bandit from here to the city has combat training and they know what to do when a hotshot pumped with code like you comes by, they do a barrage, basically, flush you out with firepower. Luckily only 534 people had C-52 programs as intense as yours loaded into them. So from here to the city, only 5-6 people will be able to beat you at your maximum skill. Currently, I could easily decapitate you. Why?”

“I thought I was loaded with programs?”

“Your mind is but your body is not ready for speed, endurance and simply not muscular enough to perform some moves. So today I want you to fight.”

He pulled out a wooden stick and came forward, I stepped forward and blocked his first swing, jumping high in the air to perform a backhand strike. He jumped forward blocking my blow and sending me skidding across the floor. Picking myself up I ran towards him jumping off the side of the ship. I was midway through performing a dropkick when I simply just slipped and the robot performed a mid-air uppercut.

“If you had performed that correctly… maybe you would have won. But your overcalculated you see your mind doesn't know your body isn't strong enough, some moves could even kill you or worse make you completely paralyzed. From now on you can win using one thing. Guns…”

He threw me two energy pistols.

I scanned them with interest.

“Duel wielding seems to be a favourable option and since you were the one who repaired me I do believe I would not like to see you killed”

“Ummm… thanks”

For the next three hours, I fired repeatedly at the target. Once in a while Ellis or Sparky would come from below and comment, in the end, I had hit the center multiple times and my aim was improving.

The blaster however overheated releasing a multitude of steam from the top. Apart from training I also scurried below deck and helped repair the ship. It was a medium-sized light tanker. If not for cybernetic improvements the ship would have had to have at least 4 people to control. Some of its lighting fixtures were broken and scored with carbon. I believe it may be from a series of attacks or boarding parties. When I asked the crew I received silent answers.

The rest of the day was spent firing at targets, building up strength, assembling radio’s and learning about the factions and robots which inhabited the planet. There was no telling how far the deserted sands went, an endless void populated by an endless horde of those who were forgotten. The commander of the ship made me do close to 100 push-ups and various exercises a day, in hopes to broaden the combat I could handle.

We passed over many structures and areas on our journey, most of the land wafted a putrid smell making me glad I was above the heavens and unable to fully appreciate the stench. Radioactive waste and ground forced us to remain indoors when passing crashed ships and piles of compacted garbage.

Towers of square cubes of waste of all sorts formed massive cities and pillars of the unknown. The only civilized inhabited structures I saw were scattered salvage ships like the one I rode, a few had slowed down to raise flags spreading the news, sometimes I would hear chatter on the radio, or pick up various snit bits of communication. Once after a series of gruelling training which resulted in my hand splitting open with a visage of blisters, Ellis walked by and cast a long look into the depths of my sweaty palm.

“I came here to give you something, something which I feel you will enjoy, something which I do not wish to give but it seems you have earned its grasp” he motioned towards the target, every shot I had fired dead center. I once knew a man with the same determination, he stroked his fingers across my wound, causing me to slightly reel back.

His name was Cantus Aex, a famed soldier from a time away from time. He led a revolution against the collective, leading a large force of thousands against an enormous enemy of incoherent power. He was an infamous gunslinger aswell, many perished to his iron bullet. This is his gun.

Ellis pulled out a thin blue pistol, it was intricate and elegant wrapped carefully in a thin silky cloth.

“It took me a while to find it, I came across the pistol in the belly of a crushed battlehind, supposedly his forces fled with the item as a memento of their leader. Sadly the battlehind’s pilots had not been observant and were taken out by a bandit trap long ago.”

I reached forward and touched its shimmering hilt, the gun was smooth and light, I was able to flick it around and twirl it upon my finger with startling ease, it danced upon my fingers, almost as if it was a wild animal, and I had just tamed it’s robust and magnificent nature.

“It feels”

“Good?”

“The gun was forged in the heart of an Aquir armoury, the finest weapons in the galaxy come from that planet's smoke scorched strongholds. The metal, its ioluminite, possibly the strongest known to existence, the guns you trained with, and the guns you will encounter will never have such sheer potency as this”

“With such a weapon at his disposal, it is a wonder how Cantus could have died?”

Ellis took in a deep breath.

“He was, he thought too kindly of his friends and believed in his allies when he called them to battle, none came, and eventually his own forces turned against him”

I eyed the gun with intense curiosity, toying with it in my hand.

“Try it out” he gestured.

I raised the pistol and stared down its iron sights, it was incredibly light, firing a spurry of blasts I noticed it had no recoil and almost fired as fast as I could pull the trigger.

“It, well it is truly delicate, fascinating to the touch” I exclaimed.

“I am glad you think so” he replied.

“What of your gun?, what name does it bear?”

Ellis turned away and glanced into the horizon.

“Guns are renowned for the feats they do in the heat of battle, and mine is a fabled arm, but it did not belong to a hero, rather a butcher. Marcus Join was his name, and his gun, Xeres, I took this gun off of his cold entrails, the man was a butcher, a bandit slaughterer, who terrorized the lands, and his gun, all who see it still shiver to this very day.”

“They why do you carry it?”

“To refuse the aid of such a weapon in this world, on this planet, would be unwise”

“May I see it?”

“Fine, but be careful”

He opened up his holster strapped to his side and placed a brown and orange pistol into my hand. It was beautiful, the craftsmanship exuding from the piece of machinery was almost parallel to what you would imagine the gods carrying in their own arsenal of war. I placed it back into his hand, startled by what I had just witnessed.

“Guns may be remembered by the duty they did in battle, but this means that it can change, one day I swear upon the sky, one day this gun will be remembered as one teeming with hope, with peace.”

Then he left, leaving me to ponder about what he had just said, I sat with my new gun in my lap, scanned its blue visage, such beauty coming with such destruction.

When passing out of a large garbage wasteland and into what seemed to be a vast forest of crashed vessels and trees I noticed a minuscule railway carrying robotic train cars across the horizon, it seemed to span for miles crossing into the depths of the planet. Only once did I see a train of around eighty cars plow through the rails. When I asked Ellis who owned the rails he responded by pointing into the sky at the moon-like spaceship that watched ever stalking its prey.

Once I saw a convoy of ships around twenty in number stream slowly across the sky, at first Sparky seemed worried, a harried expression capturing its gaze however upon closer examination of signals and a vigorous glance with enhanced binoculars it was revealed the green tankers were unmanned garbage vessels, transporting the Collective’s waste into a large dumping ground located in a nearby field.

They were completely operated by robots and hovered a few hundred feet off of the ground, their only equipment was short-range sensors and light anti-air guns on the sides to discourage raiders from taking potshots or land dwellers from attempting to sink one of the craft to salvage the what little usable parts remained onboard.

Three days later I was still on the General's ship, a strange cause I had joined without any knowledge. He continued to train me and I helped out to the best of my ability by tracking the ship's radar and communications. Nothing of importance happened from that time until we reached the first settlement I ever saw, the slum town villainous hovel they humbly called West New-Arackis