Blood is not water

[dead_shot]

Half an hour later they both sat quietly in ZonerStoner's captain's quarters. Mohammad-Sadiq studied carefully his younger brother's face.

Story of an hard, struggling life of a Bounty Hunter was written all over it. Those scars and wrinkles spoke more then any words. Although three years younger, Fateh looked like an old man in comparison to Mohammad-Sadiq. His clear forehead, bright eyes and smooth, tanned skin of his face, gray highlights on side of his head, it all just emphasized the impression of nobility and wisdom of his appearance.

''Mint tea?'' he asked, in order to brake awkward silence.
''Like the one our father used to make?'' replied Fateh, with an bitter grin. ''I would prefer something stronger please''.
''I'm afraid I have nothing else and I have no biodoms to grow real herbs here. This is just an aromatic infusion. Water is real thou...'' Mohammad was already pouring steaming liquid into their cups.
''To what do I owe this sudden pleasure?'' Mohammad-Sadiq avoided small talk whenever he could. He was not impatient, just believed that life was to short to be spent on meaningless conversation, who's only purpose was to hide people's real intentions.
''I need your help Moussa. You are the only family I have and only person I care for in this godforsaken space.'' Fateh's voice was trembling and it looked like he's about to brake into cry any moment now.''Several nights ago our father came to me in dream. He told me something he taught us long time ago. 'Only thing worse then killing people for no reason is killing them for money' old man said. 'There is no way your life has to take but one you chose for yourself.' It seemed so real...''. Fateh's eyes were filling with tears.

Mohammad-Sadiq knew what that dream meant. Their family came aboard Hispania sleeper ship, long time ago. For generations they managed to avoid piracy as a way of life that was imposed on Corsairs and Outcasts by the harshness of the systems they lived in. Their father was a Zoner trader who got shot down by an mad Corsair. That was the point in which his (then) 17-year old brother first joined BAF only to become Bounty Hunter later on.

''So, you're telling me that al it took was a dream for your life to take a different course brother?'' Mohammad could not hide sarcasm in his question, for he knew that this was not the case. From their early childhood Fateh was the one who was stubborn, always ready to attack anyone who threatened him or his brother. ''Forgive my curiosity but I know there must be more'' he said when he saw his brother's face turning red, from anger or a shame, that he didn't know.

''Of course not, Moussa. It only made me reflect on the past years of my life. Something I never did before'', one could tell he was calm now, ''It made me realize that something had to be changed.''
Mohammad sat next to him and placed his hand on brother's shoulder. This was the moment he knew that would come one day and he wanted to show to his brother that he could rely on him.
''Carry on'' he said.
''I became alcohol and anger driven head hunter Moussa. I begun killing pirates in revenge for what happened to our father and ended up doing it for the sake of the killing itself, if not for plain, sick pleasure.''
His hand was trembling as he sipped already cooled tea from his cup - ''My life needs an purpose, I need an purpose in this world Moussa and I failed to find one...'' He then reached for a upper left pocket of his jacket, took out an flask and drank one long sip from it.

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the path to hell is paved with good intentions!