[center] [h1] Captain Horrigan [/h1] [/center] 

[center] [img] http://cdn.toperiodiko.gr/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/1100x654_3375_City_Angels_2d_sci_fi_city_painting_concept_art_matte_painting_futuristic_picture_image_digital_art.jpg [/img] [/center]


I’ll never get used to the sight of dead children. When I was growing up, as a rosy cheeked little Martian scamp, I had the misfortune of stumbling across a few kids who’d taken a turn for the worse; and those hollow, sunken eyes have been burned into my brain ever since. I’ve seen all sorts of things that’ll make you question your faith in humanity, but it’s the dead children that keep me awake at night.

The poor little Shinarian girl lies there, her skinny body spread out across the cold steel table, gazing up at the celling with an unblinking stare. She has a cherubic prettiness to her, even amongst all this filth and grime; like a lotus flower drifting through a sea of muck.
There are these thick pink marks creeping across her neck, and her lips have gone all withered and black. Someone wanted her Essence.
 
“Fucking dirt bags...” I muttered to myself.
 
I pull my gaze away from her, my eyes wandering down to the hand cannon which sits in its holster on my belt. My guiding compass.

A girl I dated once, this redhead nurse, told me about something called ‘Quantum Immortality’. I didn’t quite understand what she was on about, but the general gist seemed to be that when we kick the bucket our brains just relocate us to another dimension, and that there’s no such thing as permanent death. Maybe there’s a dimension where this little girl is still breathing, and I’m not some washed up thug from Mars.
 
My eyes stay fixed on my hand cannon. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t toyed with the idea of putting a bullet in my brain and seeing if I woke up in some brand spanking new dimension. Heck, at time likes this a great big void of nothing sounds pretty comforting. But I can’t let myself start thinking like that. Shit like that never ends well.

I pull myself away, walking out of the cramped shack with the dead girl, and right into the pouring rain. I guess it’s going to be one of [i]those[/i]days.
 
I pull my collar up, but this is one of those downpours which’ll chill you to the bone and soak you right through. My hair becomes damp straw, plastered to my forehead, and I can already feel the rain welling up in my boots. [I]One of those days[/i].

I place a single finger `on my earpiece, shouting to be heard over the rain.

“The tip-off was a waste. The junkies got to her first.”
 
“Copy that. Return to HQ” comes the muffled reply.
 
Stalking down grimy roads littered with bombed out houses and other derelict shitholes, the stench of industrial waste thick in my nose, it isn’t long before I bump into Zharuus.
He’s one of those Brotherhood types; a great big beast with grey skin like leather and the blackest eyes you’ve ever seen. Even in body armour he doesn’t look remotely human, what with his claws and shark teeth.
 
“Captain.” He growls in his gravely drawl.
 
“Old man.”
 
“Anything to report?” he asks in his usual straight-to-the-point, no-nonsense fashion.
 
“Just a dead little girl.”
 
“You’d think the young ones would’ve learnt to hide themselves, by now.” He ponders
 
Two kinds of people, I guess.
 
Gunfire rattles in the distance, cutting through the murky city air.
 
“Sounds like the gangbangers are at it again.”
 
“I’d admire their persistence if they weren’t so…breakable.”
 
We make our way back to HQ together, walking in silence as we focus on navigating the rubble-laden streets and gaping manholes.
 
Before we snuck our way into Armahford, the Golden Harpy Casino was run by one of Baelzarus VI’s many crime families, and catered to all sorts of shady pass times which went above and beyond roulette wheels. It also just so happened to be one of the most heavily fortified locations in the area, given the mob presence. War broke out between The House of Harnev and the other ‘noble’ families, and pretty soon the Golden Harpy was the only building left on this street still standing.
 
Our boys have decked it out with all sorts of equipment, and there’s this crazy miss-mash of wires and cables draped across the floor when Zharuus and I finally come strolling in.
 
“Horrigan.” Specialist Williams greets me with a sharp nod, looking up from the sentry gun he was fiddling with “Glad to have you back. Shame about the girl.”
 
“We should’ve been quicker.” I grumble. He ignores me.
 
“Change of plan; the shuttle with the new arrivals is touching down near the old space port in just over half an hour.” He announces “We need you and Zharuus over there to pick up the newbies ASAP.”
 
I run a hand through my wet mop of hair. “Let me change into my gear and grab a laser musket, then the Old Man and I will double time it over.”