Unholy Star, Beyond Faith

Convict

Piles of human bones; a littering of dismembered body parts; the skinned carcass of one of the fiercest beasts on the planet; and a genetically enhanced giant -- as a breakfast destination, Tiger's surroundings were far from typical, but the smell of meat cooking was unmistakable and undeniably alluring. He stood and stretched his muscles, a satisfying feeling that he had not had for the longest time, good, the drugs are working, he thought to himself.

His rescuer noticed Tiger stand and offered, "Liver. We could eat it raw, it's fresh enough, but cooked it's better I think. Besides, the heat of the fire is good for my old bones."

Tiger sat accross the fire and studied the Nephilim, the man was huge, like a mountain who would stand nine feet tall at least. His head was massive and in perfect proportion to an overly muscular body. If he was of a regular size, it could be said that he was good-looking, but the scale of his battle-worn features surpassed the measure of human attractiveness. He wore a baar skin vest, that was as thick and shaggy, but slightly lighter in colour than the black fur of the animal he had killed with a single blow of his hammer the night before. Having been in the company of the Nephilim in the past, there was only one feature of the big man that Tiger noted as unusual; he was old. His hair was grey, as was a thick stubble on his face where wrinkled lines were deep.

"I heared you use the name Ugly Boy last night; is that what they call you here? The one who contacted me with the thread was named Reiko."

"Hmph," the nef shrugged with what might have been a grin and reached back for his hammer, fliging it easly over to Tiger like it was made of foam, but it landed handle up with a dull lead-heavy thud a couple of feet away from the surprised Tiger. 

"That is Ugly Boy." The head of the wapon was at least the size of both of Tiger's hands spread thumb to thumb and he knew, even in his prime, he would likely not be strong enough to lift it. crudley hammer embossed on each side was an eye. The thick rustic handle was an arm span long, and polished by use.

"I am Reiko."

"I'm Panthera Tigre, but they called me, Tiger. Although, you already know that. I guess we have a mutual friend?"

"That might be a stretch of the word, but yes I know Pachy."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, both admiring the smell of the large lump of meat cooking over the fire.   "How, long have you been planetside?" Tiger finally asked, using the miltary term to bring attention to their shared background.

"Well, I would say fifteen years, although it seems like a thousand." Reiko said shearing off a slice of liver with a long knife (long for Tigre, not so big in Reiko's hands) and slipping a slice of meat onto a clean rib bone that he picked up off the ground. He passed the serving over to Tiger; squatting over the fire, the large man didn't even need to stand to reach Tiger. "It is hard down here on the ground."

"You're telling me." agreed Tiger, "Why didn't you stay up in the colonies, at least it's safe from the beasts up there."

"Huh! I've never been up in the canopy. Not even once. I'm a convict."

Tiger wasn't surprised, it was well known that all of the Kingdom's criminals were sent to the planet surface to fend for themselves, but he didn't realise that it was possible for a convict to survive for fifteen years and to be connected to his interface (like the aged, convicts also had their connectivity destroyed). "Well, convict or no, I'm glad you were around to save my life. Thank you."

"That's okay,  the reward will be worth it."

Feeling that he didn't want to push his hospitality Tiger dropped the conversation and focussed on the sweet tasting meat that melted in his mouth; it seemed just what his body had been craving. He took a moment to pull up a map of the area from his interface. It was the first time in years that he had accessed external pax, but such a thing was second nature to him since he was a small boy. The map overtook his vision and he easily centred on his location; he was surprised to see a set of huts not an hour's walk down the track past the burial pen.