Space Fantasy

The war started in a nowhere town in the middle of nowhere, on a planet that was also in the middle of nowhere. I remember it greatly. How could I not? Even before I was a soldier I was fighting in the goddamn war. Hell! You could say I even started it, though I didn’t lead the attack on the town nor was I a part of the attack. No, I pulled the last straw you could say. My actions divided the sides and brought out pure hatred with the simple pull of a trigger. I killed a hero and a good man. With that simple little action I personally brought about pain and suffering for years to come. Pain and suffering for thousands of people including the woman I have come to love, all for a few bucks.
I don’t feel bad about it though. I’m a different person now, well mostly. I’m still a killer, that’s something you can’t wash off. Even now that I’m a hero I still fight, still kill. Even now that the woman I love is in the ground. Buried in the very town she grew up in, the town that started the war. I still fight. I will not say it is the good fight. All violence is the exact opposite of good. When you have to kill to live you learn that. I guess I should fill you in on the events up until that cold rainy day, where with a bullet I sealed the fate of many.
I grew up on a desert planet. Dead Land is what People call it. Its real name is lost in the history books. There are towns every once in a while, normally at least a days ride at a slow trot. Few people use cars or other traveling vehicles, the sand clogs them up. Horses are the main transportation, even when soldiers come. The biggest thing about this place is that no one government has ever owned it. It has nothing to give, except death and whores.
I’m the son of a whore. My mother said that she wasn’t when I was in her womb, but there are sick people everywhere. I never officially knew my father, though I have a theory or two. I figure he was one of my mother’s jobs, not that I care. I was pretty much raised by low lives, the people who hung out in the saloon trying to figure out how to make their next buck. I think one or two of them may have been my uncle. I loved my mother almost as much as I hated her, she tried and that’s all a person can ask. She died when I was ten leaving me on this horrible desert planet. I had no family who would claim me and no money. I would have died had it not been for the soldiers. They were neither of the Hergan Confederacy nor of the Fala Republic. I think they were of the Kalvian Empire, but I’m not sure. There was four of them and they fed me for nearly a month. They took me along with them. They taught me to ride, to shoot, and to kill. That was the worst thing they ever did.
After a month they decided to campout in the desert, they took me with them. Once the sun had set and the fire was burning, the mood changed. They started talking about debt and how I owed them. Next thing I knew one of them tried to feel me up. It all happened quick, I don’t remember how I did it or in what order. One was stabbed in the throat, the one who tried to touch me. The other three were shot to death and I was holding the smoking gun. I took their stuff. Cash, horses, guns, food, everything. The guns and horses I sold. I hated military guns. I prefer a six-shooter. I still do, but that luxury isn’t one I can take anymore. I bought myself some more supplies, my beloved six-shooter, and Phantom, my horse, may he rest in peace. From that point on I roamed the Dead Land becoming a thing of legend. Anyone who needed someone dead only needed to bring them to my domain and they wouldn’t make it through their first night. I was Riac, the Night Hawk, the great assassin who started and ended the galaxy’s bloodiest war.