The Son of Sowiio. Part 1
06 Nov 2017Stryker Aune
A reworking of Stryker's backstory
Vintersten, Nya Sverige, Sowiio
Chapter 1
Stryker stood atop some scrapped ship with a large bulky plasma cutter firmly in his hands. Sweat dripped down his muscular frame as he worked shirtless in the hot suns. A superheated stream of plasma spewed from an induction coil at the tip of the cutter and the young man’s dense triceps flexed restraining the massive device keeping it steady as he cut a large swath through the thick armor plating of the scrapped ship. Once the beam swiped through, he used a heavily booted foot, to pry the bulky chunk off. It hit a pile and slid a ways and the man single handedly shouldered the cutter. It was a sign of brute strength, and only a few men in the yard could actually pull it off. He slipped a thick thumb under the rubber strap holding a pair of dark welding goggles, and ripped it from his shaven head, and wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. He glanced at the chronometer and gave a nod. The day was done, and he made his way to the shabby dual story building that served as the administration office for the scrap yard.
Stryker met up with a dozen or so fellow workers, milling about and listening in on the drone of excited conversation. It was payday, and that was reason enough.
Tygon had saddled up next to youngman. His mutton chop beard was peppered with grey and though older he was quite large and muscular himself, though slightly gone to seed. Stryker felt a calloused hand clasp onto his shoulder. “It’s payday!”
Stryker felt a smile break across his face. He spoke, his voice surprisingly soft but deep, “Aye it is!”
Tygon shook his shoulder. “I know the answer to this, but gym later?”
Stryker smiled. “It’s my home man, you know that.” The young man was partially correct. He spent quite a bit of his free time in the gym sweating over weights, enough to make it seem that it was his home, but he did have a small flat in the city itself. He felt his shoulder shake again.
“Good, cause I could use a spot.” Tygon laughed.
The younger man smiled and gazed across the rugged terrain of his homeworld. Born Imperial Sven Aune enjoyed what the empire had to offer. Primarily it’s more liberal views on how to live life. Virtually any drug was legal, and this suited the young man. He didn’t much enjoy indulging in mind-altering or mood enhancing stims. In fact he took a rather dim view of such things. But it did open to him the use of anabolic steroids and other strength enhancing “supplements.”
Stryker laughed. “Ya I hear ya.” and he listened to the murmuring of those around him, discussing the use of their newly acquired credits on booze, and women.
The line dwindled and he received his pay. The job didn’t offer much, but he supplemented his income with other jobs. There was a constant need for bouncers and he filled the role nicely, though he particularly enjoyed pit fighting.
The evening drew near, and he met up with Tygon at Iron Asylum the local meat-head gym. Stryker had discovered his passion for the sport at a young age. To him bodybuilding was more than just image, but that played a large part in the whole affair. To him, it was about control, and power. He and his twin sister had been orphaned at a young age when their parents died in a decompression accident. Sucked out into the cold void of space, leaving their children in the care of the colony, administrators brother. An overlooked, and embittered man, who resentfully took the children in. He was aloof, cold, and abusive. Often times physically relieving his daily frustrations upon the boy. Stryker had become accustomed to pain. It became a part of his daily life.
At the age of fifteen, he decided that he had enough, and left. With nowhere to go, and no one to turn to, he fended for himself. Industrious, he found a job at the salvage yard. The hours were long, the days hot, and the physical exertion, punishing and often fell asleep with his body screaming bloody murder, upon a bed, and in a flat, that he proudly was paying for. Over the course of a year, he found his body had changed. He became stronger, his muscles thicker, and women were taking notice of him. He started idolizing men with huge physiques wanting what they had: respect, attention and power. One such man was Tygon, a fellow plasma cutter and salvage yard worker and Stryker gathered his courage and approached the man.
Tygon took the chance, and quickly saw the teen’s passion. He had decided that Sven was not some passerby, seemingly interested in the sport because the idea sounded good. He saw that Sven embraced it; constantly pushing himself, and Tygon encouraged the appetite. He taught the young man the finer details of the sport: techniques, diet, and how to safely stack and inject steroids. This coupled with the unusually high gravity of Nya Sverige, good genes, Sven’s body exploded with mass and size. By the time he was in his early twenties, Sven was easily one of, if not, the largest man in the colony.
Vintersten was a good sized colony, at the foot of a mountain range to the north. The snow capped peaks jet high into blue sky, and just south was the coastal region leading to the deep oceans teeming with life. The summers were hot, and the winters were mild. The colony itself was prosperous relying on exports of grains, fishes, and ores. It had a sizable tourist economy, the ecological biome providing ample activities for outdoor adventures.
Stryker walked to the gym, and enjoyed the turning heads as his presence commanded a hole to be made in the wandering crowds. The Iron Aslyum was a hole in the wall, but it wasn’t exactly small. Stryker walked in and greeted the attendant before claiming a locker. He donned his gear, which consisted of a torn stringer tank-top, shorts, combat like boots, and wrist braces. He found Tygon, and gave him a simple nod in greeting as walked over to the bench the older man was hovering over slapping on weight. Stryker leaned on the bar.
“Hey old man.” he said. In a way Tygon had become a surrogate father to the young man. Tygon pushed Stryker away with a soft chuckle, then sat on the bench. Looking back and up at his protegee he asked, “So, how are things going with Mia?” he laid back, scooted his body under the bar and grasped it. His chest heaved as he exhaled and lift the weight off. Stryker took a step positioning himself over the man, ready to spot.
“I broke up with her.” he said, watching Tygon.
“Why?” he asked standing stretching.
Stryker slapped some more weight on then sat on the bench centering his grip, “Oh you know, she was getting needy. That whole, you don’t spend enough time with me stick.”
Tygon took up a spotters position, “I thought you liked her.”
Stryker racked the weight, and hopped off the bench with a few bounces from the balls of his feet, “She was alright. But...”
Tygon gave the young man a scrutinizing eye. Stryker knew the look all too well and he became defencive, “What?”
“There isn’t a perfect girl out there.” Tygon was being serious “That woman did you real disservice.”
“Which one?” Stryker asked, but he knew exactly who he was talking about. Her name was Dionne and she was the trophy wife of the colony administrator. And since her husband was often out, she was left alone with not much to do, and with excess pent up energy. She had noticed the teenage Stryker and admired his hard young body. He was surprised when she invited him into her residence, and consequently lavished upon his physique further ingraining in his mind that bigger, was definitely better. In his youthful lust, he reciprocated in earnest and she taught him what it was that women wanted from a lover. He was a quick study and he came to look forward to the times when she summoned him to her mansion. But it had its hazards and on one particular excursion, he had barely slipped out without being noticed when Boris returned home early from a business trip.
Stryker He smiled at the memory. There he was seventeen again -butt naked taking the trophy wife right there on her kitchen table. Not a care in the world except experiencing the lust that had gripped them. Without warning a simple chime from the front door caused both of them to hastily pull apart. Grabbing his clothes the woman shoved him into a large pantry. Peeking through the crack he saw an outline of an older, balding and quite fat man walk into the kitchen. Dionne had stood in front of the door. The conversation they had was dry and she hastily worked to resolve the issue. Things had become particularly intense when he tried to open the door to the pantry, but she was able to deflect her husband with a sexual advance. Leading him up to the bedroom gave the young man time to slip out of the house undetected.
Tygon’s scratchy face broke into a wide smile. “Dionne. She gave you an unhealthy appetite in women, and I should remind you that she did eventually grew board with her boy-toy and kicked you to the curb.”
Stryker found it hard not to smile. Shrugging his tattooed shoulders he continued .“Ya, well, I got laid, right?”
“Getting laid isn’t everything.” Tygon wiped his hands free of the chalk.
Stryker smiled and in an unconvincing tone reconciled, “I know, I know-” They continued their workout, talking about this and that. By the end Stryker was massaging his sore muscles, gave Tygon a slap on the back, and began his walk home. The night air was cool and felt good upon his wet back. A gentle breeze rustled the trees and the young man gazed towards the heavens. The twinkling of stars greeted him, and he quickly found the star Syntini sparking in the velvety curtain. He let his mind wander. Things were pretty good here. Ever since he left care of the administrators brother care and made a life of his own. It built his confidence and he was feeling good about his abilities. But it didn’t seem like it would be enough. He thought about exploring the stars: A dream he had cultivated in his time alone. All he needed was a ship. Even a busted up piece of crap would do. He had faith in his ability to fix mechanical devices, and he perform the task with a much cheaper price tag.
Neatly kept, and organized, Stryker’s home was an extension of himself and a place for him to unwind and relax from the busy daily activities. The apartment wasn’t large, but it suited his needs just fine. He fixed himself a meal in the little kitchen, made even smaller by his vast size before settling down at the table. Just about to take a bite his holo-com chirped.
“Ya?” he set the fork down, reaching over to a display and activating it. A warm hologram of oranges and reds flickered to life and the image of his brother in law materialized.
“Sven?” the man was of Japanese descent and his thin facial features, dark eyes, neatly groomed raven black hair and olive skin was a testament to that lineage.
“Hideki?” Stryker’s face faltered. He had a feeling that this conversation would be about his sister.
“It’s Freyja.” Hideki started, his fingers were folded together.
“What about her?” Stryker asked. Though his relationship was strained with her, she was the only family left to him, and concen seeped from his voice.
“She’s having another episode.” The Asian man shook his head slowly, “I’ve tried everything I know. She just- won’t respond.” he looked dower.
“Did you try holding her?” Stryker’s tone became serious.
“She won’t let me close to her.” off in the distance the sound of breaking china punctured the air followed by a scream.
Stryker sighed. Before Hideki bought her, he had been in the same hopeless routine with her. He used his brute strength to deal with problem, but Hideki wasn’t in a position to do so. “I guess, let her ride it out? I donno? Talk calmly with her. Use a soft quiet voice?” he didn’t have much advice.
Hideki nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had taken on more than what he had bargained for. He knew she had her issues, but he didn’t know how deep they ran. An honorable man, he was committed to the marriage. And though, granted by law by the Empire, he could have multiple wives, he found the idea repugnant. “Do you think I should use the tranquilizer on her?” he wasn’t joking. Freyja could become quite dangerous to herself and others when she was in the grip of the terrors.
Stryker nodded. “You might have to.” he and Hideki both hated the idea, but extreme measures were sometimes needed.
“Alright.” Hideki reached towards the screen before it cut out. Stryker sunk deep into his chair and sighed.
Special thanks to Jemine Caeser for her support and constructive feedback and M. Lehman for the inspiration!