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Vicious. Yummy...
"When Angels Fall from Heaven..."
Her first mistake had been to hand over the key to her zip craft. The usher at the door had been alerted to be on the lookout for bounty hunters. The White Tigers had done him a favor by putting that bounty out on Mao's head. It was sure to attract bounty hunters from all over the galaxy, including Spike.
Yes, he knew that Spike had spent the last two and a half years as a bounty hunter. Ever since he had faked his death and left the Syndicate, he had kept a close eye on Spike. His death scene had fooled most of the Syndicate, including the Van. The only ones who even suspected that the green-haired man was still alive were those that had been closest to him. Mao had known. The old capo had wasted his last breaths contemplating the future he had planned. The future in which the weak would rule the Syndicate, in which there would be no more bloodshed. No longer would the weak be ruled out, if Mao Yenrai had had his way, the Red Dragons would slowly have weakened and died, a toothless beast with no more reason to live.
He did not want to see that future. He had more respect for the organization that brought him to life. Ever since he was young and taken in by the Syndicate, he had researched old tales, listened to stories told by men old enough to be his grandfather of times gone by. Times when the people of Earth were slowly expanding in the solar system. Times when the former crime organizations such as the American mafia had fallen into disarray. Times when only the Asian triads had the foresight to retain their power, their grip of fear over the populace. As Earth's population left the planet they once called home, the triads left with them to begin anew. Those founding members had followed not only a warrior's code, but a code of brotherhood. That code, that sense of honor was what allowed them to not only to survive, but to flourish.
And now those men had died, lost in the bloody struggles that put the Syndicate into its position of power. Those in power, the remnants of those first brothers, were those who had been too weak to go the front lines. They had been too cowardly to fight alongside their fellow warriors and now they were in control of the Syndicate. His Syndicate.
He could not allow that weakness to be perpetuated. At one time he had thought Spike worthy to take over that leadership role that was expected of him. Now he had seen how easily Spike could fall, how easy it was for him to betray his brothers. The Red Dragons were weak and dying. He planned to let them die. In fact, he would help them along their way, to quicken the end of the once proud Syndicate and prevent further shame. From the ashes would rise a new Syndicate, a Syndicate worthy of the ancient Triads. He would ensure it.
"When Angels Fall from Heaven..."
Her first mistake had been to hand over the key to her zip craft. The usher at the door had been alerted to be on the lookout for bounty hunters. The White Tigers had done him a favor by putting that bounty out on Mao's head. It was sure to attract bounty hunters from all over the galaxy, including Spike.
Yes, he knew that Spike had spent the last two and a half years as a bounty hunter. Ever since he had faked his death and left the Syndicate, he had kept a close eye on Spike. His death scene had fooled most of the Syndicate, including the Van. The only ones who even suspected that the green-haired man was still alive were those that had been closest to him. Mao had known. The old capo had wasted his last breaths contemplating the future he had planned. The future in which the weak would rule the Syndicate, in which there would be no more bloodshed. No longer would the weak be ruled out, if Mao Yenrai had had his way, the Red Dragons would slowly have weakened and died, a toothless beast with no more reason to live.
He did not want to see that future. He had more respect for the organization that brought him to life. Ever since he was young and taken in by the Syndicate, he had researched old tales, listened to stories told by men old enough to be his grandfather of times gone by. Times when the people of Earth were slowly expanding in the solar system. Times when the former crime organizations such as the American mafia had fallen into disarray. Times when only the Asian triads had the foresight to retain their power, their grip of fear over the populace. As Earth's population left the planet they once called home, the triads left with them to begin anew. Those founding members had followed not only a warrior's code, but a code of brotherhood. That code, that sense of honor was what allowed them to not only to survive, but to flourish.
And now those men had died, lost in the bloody struggles that put the Syndicate into its position of power. Those in power, the remnants of those first brothers, were those who had been too weak to go the front lines. They had been too cowardly to fight alongside their fellow warriors and now they were in control of the Syndicate. His Syndicate.
He could not allow that weakness to be perpetuated. At one time he had thought Spike worthy to take over that leadership role that was expected of him. Now he had seen how easily Spike could fall, how easy it was for him to betray his brothers. The Red Dragons were weak and dying. He planned to let them die. In fact, he would help them along their way, to quicken the end of the once proud Syndicate and prevent further shame. From the ashes would rise a new Syndicate, a Syndicate worthy of the ancient Triads. He would ensure it.