Today was a good day the boy with the starkwhite skin said to himself as he took aim. He mouthed the words as he squeezed the trigger.“Pow.” The beam of highly intense and focused energy cut trough the targets center, like a hot knife trough butter. He smiled and aimed at the next target “Pow.” Dead center, full score, the crowd goes wild. If there was a crowd that is, there wasn't. Unlike many other heroes he did not have fanclubs, inherited riches or a big following. He didn't have a fancy earthling career or billions of dollars. He was a 'humble' Liason of the Galactic Rangers. With a rifle, that he could shoot the head of a bird with from god knows how far away. Zel hit a button and four more target plopped up “Pow!” Dead center again. “Pow!” A smoking hole in the middle “Pow!” Right between the eyes “pew!” The last shot hits off center by three inches as his com suddenly comes alive. He swears loudly in his rustic, very stoic language and look at the com.

“Shit” He stares at the sign. It reads: 'Meeting in 10 minutes' with giant red letters. He is of to a running start seconds later. He is fast, way faster then the average human, human athletes would struggle to keep up with his inhuman physiology. And currently those legs were doing work¨. It was putting the galactic daredevil on every track teams radar no doubt but he didn't have time to worry about details. He bounded over a bicycle with ease, no doub scaring the owner of said bicycle half to death before bolting over to his trusty motorcycle. He was indeed, a intergalactic cowboy on a bike. He speed off to the meeting.

His journey was somewhat event less, he parked his bike just as he saw Siren pull in and gave her a wave. The carbine was as per usual strapped onto his back.