RANGER - Bonus Short

Happy holidays #2! This is a fun little Ranger short. Just playing around :) 

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Ranger wasn’t his name, yet. Not in those days when he was a simple miner on the planet Theramuse. He had a simple rule in life—keep his head down, do the job, and try his best to avoid conflict.

Back then he was still known as Ricon. His hair hadn’t turned gold yet. He had no powers, unless you considered his dashing smile a power. He didn’t, aside from when it worked its magic at the local bar. 

Between the missions to gather the rare metal Orion Corp. had termed Neguvu, he lived on the Ruboid outpost, in the subdistrict of the Warlord known as Volan. A nasty son of a bitch who was rumored to have ties to both the Citadel, and also the shadier supers who were very much not with the Citadel. A man who walked the thin line, playing each side when it suited him. Not the type anyone on Theramuse would rat out, though, because of what had happened to the few who had been rumored to be considering it. 

Tethla, with her skin peeled back, her eyes gouged out—and the man hadn’t lifted a muscle. Simply pointed, or so the story went. And then there was Morningbright, a super who had moved in, trying to take over as the local warlord on the promise of better standards of living. When he had marched right up to Ruboid and told the man to turn himself in, Volan had waited until the guy used his power. Bright light flashing out, only to stop a foot away from Volan and double back on its user to consume him. All that was left of Morningbright was sparkling dust that blew away in the breeze. 

So the miners and other locals under the warlord knew their place, kept to their work, and did their best to simply get paid, get laid, and hope that one day they would earn their spot among those who were ‘made.’ The select few who would rise up out of the ranks, having earned their share and been given a seat in society with the supers. 

Ricon was on his way home from the mining ship, Outer Range, looking forward to a quick stop at Lulu’s Petals—a bar known for their hard liquor and beautiful dancers. He had gotten to know many of the dancers by name over the years, though more were arriving as the mining jobs grew. That night, he had heard rumor of a new girl, one they called, “Dogoda,” because apparently she wasn’t only a dancer, but had a super power that allowed her dances to take to the sky. He thought the name had something to do with some ancient, Slavic mythological wind spirit. 

“What’s the word, Ricon?” Georgon the bouncer asked. Fucking big dude with biceps the size of his head, but a baby face that could almost convince you he wasn’t dangerous. A man didn’t work a place like this, though, without having cracked some skulls. 

“Dogoda on tonight?” 

The big guy chuckled, giving him a nod. “You better have brought your disk, my man. Everyone wants a dance.”

“Payday.” Ricon gave him a nod, touched forearms in respect, and entered. 

Bars like that weren’t like the ones back home. He had come from one of the original colonization planets, from a city that had grown quite large but managed to stay out of the spotlight. Self-titled Mertroin, after one of its founders, but those who left it behind simply referred to it as the Gate, because of its ability to send so many of its men and women off to work on various planets and mining colonies. Ricon had left the Gate behind not more than ten years ago, and was proud to say he had never returned. Only rarely looked back, when considering the one who got away—a young woman he had thought he had loved in his teens, but who wouldn’t give him the time of day. Fucking bitch. 

He stepped in past two more bouncers—always ready for trouble—and along a hall with deep red walls and a hanging chandelier that looked tacky as hell, but kind of worked for the place. Entering the large main room, he took a moment to let the music work its way through him. Slow chanting, deep bass. Weathered men and women lined the bar, one woman in the corner eyeing him. Chelda often came here, and when she did she was generally looking for an easy lay. If she had her way, though, it would more often than not be a matter of going to her pod out back with a guy or girl who would go down on her for a good half-hour, then be done with it. He knew from experience. The last time they had hooked up, it had been mutually beneficial. But he wasn’t in the mood for her that night. 

While not a strip club, several dancers lined the walls between the black stones that served as decorations for the joint. A place like this gets, at most, the fancy chandelier, and the stones kind of fit with the mining vibe, so Ricon didn’t mind. 

And there, without a doubt, was Dogoda. All eyes were on her, this woman with skin as dark as night, light blue and purple hair flowing about her, and eyes that sparkled violet. A goddess from out of this world, he thought, and stumbled over, only half aware of himself grabbing a drink along the way. Nasty stuff, but he sipped it and didn’t care, all his attention on this woman. She was pirouetting on one foot, a glimmering skirt flying up to reveal her perfect ass at times. Her breasts were free, and while that wasn’t so rare on Theramuse, hers were full and quite a sight to behold. Locals didn’t believe the female chest should be hidden if the male chest wasn’t, but their freedom in this regard had never caused Ricon to appreciate the female body any less. 

Ricon was instantly stricken. Immediately infatuated and taken over by a need to have her, to taste her tongue in his mouth, to feel her flesh against his. 

Then she rose into the air, truly earning her name, and floated above them as she continued her dance. A surge of blood to his crotch caused Ricon to look for a seat, and he found one two tables over. Good thing, too, because watching her made him dizzy—or maybe it was the fact that he had downed his entire drink without realizing. Either way, he now sat there, staring up at her. 

“Not bad to look at,” Chelda said, and he processed that she was there with a glance from the corner of his eye. 

“I’d say.”

“You’ve been missed.” She knelt at his side, hand moving along his upper thigh. “What’ya say?”

“What?” he glanced down at her, confused by her presence, then realized her hand was at the edge of his bulge, sliding along to caress his hard cock over the pants. 

“Figure you’ve been avoiding me because maybe I owe you for a time or two.” She grinned, working to pull his cock out. “What say I go down on you right here, while you watch her?”

He shifted uncomfortably, almost considering the idea as she pulled his cock out and started stroking it. A look up, though, showed that the woman floating by had glanced down and seen this. 

Shit. If he ever hoped to have a chance with her, this wasn’t the way. 

Taking his cock from Chelda and tucking it away, he moved away from her.

“Just like that?” Chelda protested.

“It’s over,” he hissed, moving to the far wall, to the raised platform where Dogoda was coming back down for a landing. 

“Sorry,” he shouted over a bump in the music. 

She had both feet on the platform now, turning to eye him. Without so much as a second glance, she was lowering herself from the platform and then walking off. 

He jogged to catch up. “It’s just that I don’t want you to think that’s how I am. Or that we’re together—me and her.”

Finally, she turned to him. Slowly, head cocked. “You don’t seem to be asking for a dance, and yet… you’re talking.”

“Trying to explain—”

“Why that woman was stroking your cock?” She laughed. “Honey, I enjoyed the show. It’s too bad you had to put it away, is all.”

He felt his cheeks grow hot, and bit his lip. “Yeah?”

“You want a dance, it’s fifteen hundred credits. Back room.” 

He stared at her, thrown off by that number. It was a week’s wages. But then again… “Yes. Of course.”

She smiled, took his hand, and then guided him past one of the bouncers to a hall that Ricon had never paid much attention to. The idea of paying for a dance in a bar like this had always felt dirty, sleazy. What sort of bar even had this as a side business? But now, watching her ass as she led him, he couldn’t have been happier. Fuck credits—what were they good for if not for having some fun?

“In here,” she said with a teasing smile, and opened a door to her left. She immediately froze. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

Turning back to him, she tried to close the door so that he wouldn’t see. Inside, a large man who he thought he recognized as one of the other warlords from a nearby zone was nude, two women with their heads between his spread legs. 

“This one, then,” she indicated the opposite door. 

Images of her with her head between his legs flashed through his mind as he entered, wondering if that was standard practice. Part of the deal. At fifteen hundred credits, he figured he should get something like that, at least. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said, indicating a couch. He glanced around at the soundproofing, the single blue light above. Not exactly the kind of place where he could make himself comfortable, but then again, he was with her. Trying to ignore what might have happened on this very couch, he sat back and watched as she smiled at him, hands moving along her body. 

Her breasts fell as she leaned down, hands on his legs, and pushed his knees apart. “What brings you here tonight?” 

“I work the mines,” he said. “Come here often, though lately we’ve been busy.”

“Ah, that’s why I haven’t seen you much.” 

She was starting to dance as she spoke, her breasts swaying with the motion, her hands moving along his legs. Turning, she stepped away from him and shook her ass as the music picked up, then laughed. 

“Me, I’m just on my way through,” she said, thumbs in the sides of her skirt, teasing the idea that she might pull it off. 

“Going?” he asked, inching his hips forward. 

She nodded to his crotch. “Go ahead, touch yourself if you want. While you watch.” 

Honestly, he had been hoping that she would be the one to do the touching for him, but he nodded, figuring she wanted the show. He would give it to her. Cock out, he started stroking it as he watched her dance. Those violet eyes took him in and she moaned, licking her lips and sliding a hand up her skirt to touch herself, too. As she did so, she hovered off of the ground, then was circling in the air above, moaning and eyeing him and touching herself in almost a dance. 

For two people not actually touching each other, he had never been so intimate. 

“So?” he asked, not sure why he was still talking when this was going on. 

“I have… big… hopes,” she said, panting, moaning, and moving down to hover with her pussy inches from his face as she continued. “Dreams of joining the crews on Station Enshu.”

“The pirates?” He stopped stroking, intrigued. “Really?”

She laughed, sighed, and slid her hand out as she lowered herself to the couch next to him. “You going to finish, or what?”

“I…” He looked down at his cock, realizing she wasn’t going to do the job for him. Going for a different angle, he tucked it away. “Actually, I was hoping you and I could talk more, maybe finish this up in another way.”

“That so?” Her smile was to die for. “You’re cute, in a rugged sort of way. But like I said, I’m moving on.”

“Maybe I could move on with you.” He hadn’t meant to say it, and the second he did, he realized how creepy it sounded. Like a damn stalker or something, ready to throw everything away to be with this woman he just met. 

Judging by the look of unease in her eyes, she’d thought the same. 

“Listen, I don’t mean like that,” he said. “Just that I’ve always thought of doing more, too. I see myself out there on adventures, maybe as a leader. You know? Not doing this forever.”

“And this,” she gestured to her breasts, “these… have nothing to do with it?”

He laughed. “It… and they… would make the journey more pleasant.”

She grinned. “I’m sure they would.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re sweet, really, but… you couldn’t hack it on Station Eshu. Trust me.”

He turned into her, hand going to the side of her face, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She tasted of alcohol and mints. When she pulled back, pushing him away, he said, “You vastly underestimate me.”

“Well, big guy,” she gave his crotch a skeptical glance, “I doubt it.”

Then she was up, moving for the door, and a screen showed on the wall with numbers showing his chips being taken. 

“That’s all?” he asked, feeling very ripped off. 

“I gave you the chance to finish,” she said. “You took a kiss that wasn’t part of the deal, so if anything, I’d say you’re ahead.”

His jaw dropped as she left, and at the same time the blue balls kicked in. Dull pain at first, tingling in his legs and abs, and then harder like a knot in his stomach that had rope connected to his balls and was squeezing. Damn, he wished he had just finished and been done with it. 

She had been a bit of a tease, a bitch even. Kind of implied he didn’t have a lot to work with below. And yet… he wanted her more than ever. 

“Fuck this,” he said, standing and pushing away the pain as best he could, stepping out into the hall. Nearby, moans sounded from behind a door. Rubbing it in. He made for the main room, figuring that’s where Dogoda would have gone. Only, she wasn’t there. A door clicked shut behind him and he spun, hearing raised voices. 

Curious, and wondering if it was her, he walked over to the door and listened. 

“I don’t give two shits who he is,” Dogoda was saying. 

“Shut the fuck up and get in.” 

A sound of protest was cut off, followed by a muffled shout and clanging of car doors. That didn’t sound good. He opened the door to see that it led to the back alley, then saw a very upscale pod, Dogoda at the window with her hand to it and a terrified expression on her face. Her eyes met his as a hand the size of her face pulled her back and out of sight. 

“The fuck do you want?” a large man said, stepping into his line of sight. 

“Nothing,” Ricon replied, turning away from him and going back through the bar. Not wanting to appear like he was in a rush, he worked through the crowd and back out the front, nodding to his boy, then sprinting for his pod. A company issue, it wasn’t going to be as fast as that luxury brand. But they weren’t in a race, as far as he knew, and he just had to see where they were taking her, to ensure she wasn’t in trouble. 

Driving around Lulu’s, he took a side street at first to avoid being seen by anyone still out back of the bar, and then cut over in the direction he imagined the other pod would be going. Hovering feet off the ground, the pods could go higher when upgraded, but the other either didn’t seem have a need. His didn’t have the upgrade. Darkness pervaded, made worse by the fact that he didn’t want to use his lights and be spotted by the abductors. 

He followed them to the edge of town, then pulled over with a curse. Their destination made sense now, when considering what she had said. The main man himself had requested her presence—the warlord Volan. His estate was unmistakable, with its garish row of illuminated statues, each resembling grotesque creatures from this planet. The worst, two dragon-like serpents known to live in the nearby lakes. Tall windows visible over the short walls.  Ricon assumed the glass was M-Grade, meaning they were made from the local metal with a tech that left them slightly less clear to see through, but very difficult to break. Curved edges led to one massive column in the building’s center, like an old tower from a castle or pagoda. 

The pod had pulled in through the main gates, leaving Ricon to sit in his hiding spot while asking himself what the fuck he was doing there. He was no hero, and barely knew the woman. Not that he believed in magic, but he had to wonder if he was under her spell. Maybe a superpower that acted to lure men in? 

It didn’t matter, because the second he saw figures moving out of the car in a garage as the garage door closed, he made up his mind. She wasn’t going to be some plaything for this piece of shit. 

Going to his trunk, Ricon found his mining gear and strapped it on. It wasn’t exactly a soldier’s arsenal, but could certainly come in handy if he found himself in a pinch. Ready, he made off to his left, figuring he would work his way around to sneak up to the mansion. From there, he’d try to figure out where they had taken her and make his escape. 

The plan wasn’t very well thought-out, but he was sticking to it. If nothing else, for his own sanity. How could he go home and live with himself having seen what he saw? Sneaking up alongside the house, his first obstacle came in the form of a guard drone. Not the most optimal, considering it would spot him with its scanner without having to rely on vision. Most of his mining equipment was for fixing the machinery, but he had a few tools that he figured might come in handy here. For one, the magnetic belt used for keeping himself tethered to equipment as he worked on it. One click, and it activated. 

And all he had to do was move fast to ensure he would go unseen past this drone. Moving to the base of a tree, he leveraged himself up and onto an outer wall, then tossed the belt as he activated it. Immediately he was down and running, following the direction of the drone and guessing where the trajectory of the belt would take it. Clunk, they connected, drone stuck to belt, and it was enough to throw it off course. He leaped, bringing out his drill bit and hammer. Two seconds later, he had the drone on the ground, dismantled, and even had himself a makeshift blaster. Not something he would want to use if he could avoid it, but at least it would work in a jam. 

He made for the next wall, scaled it, and spotted her! Running along a hallway, visible through glass walls. She was being chased! Diving over the wall and making for the first door, he hated himself for it but had to knock out a guard with a good blow to the head, then managed to break the lock. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would be using his equipment for this, but now that he was, it was thrilling. 

Entering, he kept in the shadows, checking carefully before going around each, trying to find the direction the woman had gone. 

Only, when he finally found her, as he stumbled into the hallway where he’d seen her running just now, she was holding a blade and was in the act of flying over two large men as she slit their throats. They fell with thuds and she almost had a third—the warlord Volan! The man spun, caught the blade, and tried to summon his powers. Only, they were stifled by something she did. A hand placed upward and sideways, creating some sort of blue line in the air, like a blocking power that halted whatever he meant to conjure up. 

Holy shit, he realized. She hadn’t been dragged here. She had taken a job to kill this man. 

“Dogoda…” he muttered, hand going to his miner’s gun, as if that would be any use here. They both turned to see him as her blade bit into the man’s neck. She offered a smirk as she side-stepped, preparing to fully slit the guy’s throat. Volan pushed off, struggling as blood seeped out, and then he collapsed. 

“Pitiful,” Dogoda said to him, eyes darting up at Ricon as if trying to decide what powers he might have that she hadn’t guessed about. It made sense that she would wonder that. Who would be so stupid as to intrude on this situation without powers? Ricon was certainly asking himself that at that very moment. 

“Figured it out, did you?” she asked him with scorn. “And now… you’ll have to join this piece of rotten shit.”

The man on the floor met Ricon’s eyes, nodded slightly, and lunged. On instinct, Ricon had his magnetic belt again, pulling at the blade in Dogoda’s hand. She was yanked forward before letting it go, the warlord slamming her out of the way and falling into Ricon. The two hit the wall, where Ricon pushed his hand up against a section that glowed as it scanned his hand. 

“No!” the woman shouted, recovering as a wall opened and allowed the two to fall in, closing behind them. Her shouts were muffled, almost inaudible. 

Blood covered half of Volan’s body as he scrambled, falling to his knees, as he tried to reach out for one of several crates that were stacked there. 

“Help,” he muttered, finally making it to one as Ricon watched in a stupor. 

Everything had happened so fast, so opposite of what he had been expecting. How had this woman, who had appeared so innocent, so stunning… turned out to be an assassin?

“I’m dying, boy! Help!” Volan grunted, trying to get the latches on the crate open with his slick, bloody fingers. 

“Yes, of course.” Ricon knelt at his side, wiped the latch clean, and noted the sign as he opened the crate. The sign read: Deliver to Orion Corp. 

And there in the crate were glowing stones. Holy shit. He had heard about these stones, rumored to be able to trap supers’ powers within. Superpowers. And as the story went, anyone could use these stones. To a degree, you could absorb the powers, even. Not with all stones, though. Some were one-time uses, depending on how powerful the super was who the power came from. 

It was highly illegal, per the Citadel, and even said not to exist. But here they were, glowing and labeled accordingly. A glance back showed Volan looking weak, eyes fading in and out of focus, as he fell back on his ass. 

“Pass me the stone!” Volan grunted, hand clutching his throat as blood spilled out of it. “There, that one.” 

Ricon reached for the one indicated, but hesitated. This warlord wouldn’t give two shits about him the next day, but the assassin woman was still out there, likely escaping or ready to kill them the moment the doors opened. 

“And… if I didn’t?” Ricon asked, eyeing the stone for himself, the device next to it which looked like something kinky, but was probably used to draw the powers of the stone into oneself. Cables and attachments and the likes.

“You… little… shitstain.” Volan was actually trying to push himself up, eyeing the mining gun on Ricon’s belt. 

“Your powers don’t work so well against my kind,” Ricon said. “But… that gun? Sure, if you had the power, you could use it to kill me. Then get the stone for yourself. Change everything.”

He stepped forward and took the gun, slamming it into Volan’s outstretched hand so that it punctured a hole right through flesh and bone. To Volan’s credit, he only grunted, not screaming out in pain.  

“I don’t think that’s going to work out for you,” Ricon said, stepping and placing the mining gun between the warlord’ eyes. It was either him or the warlord at this point, and Ricon had always been a survivor. “This is where your story ends, and mine begins.”

With that, he sent the bolt forward. Volan shook and then went rigid, eyes going distant, unfocused… and then he fell back, clearly dead. 

The job that Dogoda had set out to do was finished, thanks to Ricon. And now, Ricon had other plans. Maybe she was out there and he would take her on, or maybe she had fled as guards stormed the halls. If she had gotten away, he would find her, eventually. Then she would have a choice—to kneel before the god he had become, or die. 

Because on that day, he became a god. He took the strange device, attaching it to his chest and clenching his teeth to keep from shouting as it dug into him. Then he applied the stones, sapping the superpowers that the stones held.

He used one after another. Some would bring nearly crippling pain, others heal the pain allowing him to try still more. In a world where supers were above the others and it was thought to be something you were either born with or not, he had hit the ultimate jackpot. He would check in with Orion Corp., but on his terms. Taking over this operation, buying alliances where needed, taking over when possible. 

Loud thuds sounded outside, and he turned, ready. A deep breath of gold energy, arms bursting with power. While they tried to break in, he took Ricon’s hand and held it to the section of the wall that would scan him, then dropped the corpse and stood, waiting. 

The wall opened, and it wasn’t Dogoda. She was long gone, his powers told him. Others came in, though, attempting to get off attacks at the sight of their fallen master. The first wave fell to Ricon’s new powers, gold light shooting out from his hands. When the next wave arrived, he called out, amplifying his voice with the new powers, to his surprise. 

“You have a choice,” he told them. “Join me as my servants, and you can live. Don’t, and you die.”

Some died that day, but many knelt in the end, and Ricon had his army. His new beginning.