#itll get trimmed obvi so you don't have to match this length at all

[thrailkxll]

A large freighter ship floats through the cosmic expanse making its way ever so steadily from the last bridge to the next. It was this stretch between that seemed like time stood still, out here in space alone but the ship and its crew had not a fear in the world, for it was rightfully armed. Though out here, communications were few and far in-between.

Underneath, a small black ship slowly made its way up to the bottom of the ship, somehow staying off of the radar and remaining completely unseen. The runner lights from the freighter ship lit up the muscle-car-esque curves of the little ship, it was set on autopilot to follow along with the larger ship as an almost solid black mech crawled up out of the moonroof of that little shuttle and reached up to claw into a bottom panel and rip it off. Once he had clambered up inside the panel was replaced and the cowboy was able to make his way up into the ship. When he climbed up through a panel in the floor a mech was walking away from him, and promptly earned a bullet through the back of his helm, splattering energon all over the door he was walking to go through.

The gunshot was anything less than silent, the mission stopped being stealth here. Two more mecha walked through the door to investigate and those two mecha were also prescribed a bullet for each of their processors— their lifeless frames slumping to the floor with their friend. The back up of back up started to come through doors, weapons drawn and ready but the cowboy was just too much faster, earning the guards hefty drafts through their helms as well. 

The spurrs on the back of Thrailkill's pedes chingged and chimed as he walked with purpose through the halls, doors opening and mecha stepping through along the way and each one losing their processors all over the walls. 

“What the hell is going on out there?” The pilot looks over to his partner in the seat next to him.

“I'll go check.” The brave mech stands up to leave the pilot and right as he steps through the door he too was shot in the helm, causing the pilot to gasp and look back— and in stepped Thrailkill, door closing him inside the cockpit.

There was no time for the pilot to react other than a startled face— a face that soon gained a massive hole from the blast of the cowboy's pistol and painted the windshield pink with processor matter. Thrailkill quickly switched the shuttle to autopilot and continued his journey. There should only be a handful of mecha left now. 

When he stepped out of the control room he was met with gunfire, Thrailkill turning his frame causing the gunfire that would have caught him in the shoulder to wizz right past him— dual pistols raised to pick off the last four mecha faster than they could try shooting him again. 

The floor littered with dead mech's, Thrailkill stepped through them, glowing pink energon seeping out of their helm wounds and puddling on the floor painted the bottom of his pedes as he walked through the ship to the back where all of the cargo was held so that he could set optics on his new ship full of loot. Stepping through the doors there was one guard left who was seemingly late to know what was going on and he was promptly issued a bullet between the optics as well. Thrailkill reloads his pistols as he steps through the freight room, hearing the muffled sound of mecha attempting to shout he looks over into what could be assumed was a makeshift brig and sees two mecha restrained and on their knees— mouths covered to keep them half-ass silent. 

The cowboy grunts in acknowledgment, one of the mecha making sounds of excitement thinking they were about to be saved as Thrailkill walks through the gate of the brig. 

“Sorry partner, I don't take prisoners.. or leave witnesses.” The gun was drawn point-blank to the mech's forehelm, the mech's optics go wide and his processor was soon splattered all over the floor behind him.

Thrailkill looks over to the next mech on his knees beside him which was now also dotted with pink from the other mech. Thrail draws to shoot, but he raises an opticridge over his visor. “Hm.. you look expensive.” He rips the piece that was over the mecha's mouth off so that they may speak “You got a bounty on you, partner?” The dark cowboy asks, pushing up the mech's chin with the end of the barrel. 

No Thrailkill, you're retired remember? “Ah, it don’t matter, you’d be worth something dead as well.” That sharp thumb pushes down the hammer to his pistol.