Debts Paid

Debts Paid
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“Going dark in three, two, one.” 
The world around Hadir Khalilov went black in an instant as every light, screen, electronic lock and security system in the apartment megacomplex was shut off by the meddling of the voice on the other end of the COM. In the same moment, for him, light returned to the world with a green tint as the low-light vision of his helmet sprung to life. He had one-hundred twenty seconds to clear the small apartment before power returned, more than enough time for what he needed to do.
Keeping the M7 pressed against his shoulder, Hadir twisted the door handle, and pushed in. It creaked slightly as he stepped through, heavy boots meeting cheap imitation-tile floors. Three sat at the table, fumbling around in the dark over a recently prepared meal. Cheap stuff, plant-based meat substitutes and rice, nothing fresh, they were poor, they’d lost everything when GriekenCorp let them all go, screwed them out of benefits, robbed them of a future. 
“Who’s there?” One called out from the table, turning her head in the darkness towards the sound of Hadir’s entry. Hadir understood, life was hard out here on corporate colonies, his family had been left homeless by Rughet Factories when he was only five. Even as the Covenant had been storming the colonies, greed found a way to show its ugly face. The difference between the Khalilov’s and the Zabinski’s was that his family hadn’t then made the mistake of trying to expose their corporate overlord’s wrongdoings all over the colonies. 
It didn’t help that ONI owed GriekenCorp more than a few favors.
“It’s the neighbors.” He whispered, squeezing the trigger. A neat grouping of rounds caught the woman across the chest, spraying blood as she fell back in her seat, gurgling blood as the man to her right rose up on instinct. Hadir sent him to the floor with quick burst.
The eldest woman didn’t move, staring towards him through the black with a hard, hateful gaze. He could just make out the Helljumper tattoo on her shoulder, Miriam Zabinski. She’d been the one to get them all into this mess, and if her arm wasn’t reduced to a stub not three inches below the site of the tattoo, he was sure she’d have pulled a gun on him already.
“Fuck you.” She hissed, the M7 answering for him with a series of suppressed coughs. She slumped into the seat again, lifeless. Twenty years of service, hundreds of combat drops, all for it to end in a dark apartment because she couldn’t handle being laid off. Maybe he should’ve felt sympathy for her, for her dead sister and brother-in-law, but he felt nothing. Life went the way it did because of the choices one made, making bad ones, like going to war with a megacorp with deep pockets, deeper connections, and a history of violent behavior was a particularly egregious one.
They’d known what they were getting themselves into when they made their move, they’d known how foolish it was, yet they’d done it anyway. Now they were dead. 
He lowered the SMG quietly, and made to turn for the door. “One more Hadir.” The voice cut in over his helmet. He arched an eyebrow, bringing up the dossier for the strike on his HUD. They were wrong, it said it plain as day, three adults, that was it.
Hadir moved closer to the table and looked over the corpses, each one’s biometrics showing a flatline. Control was mistaken, they had to be. Down the hall to his left, a door creaked open. In an instant he had the SMG leveled, but at the end of his sights was nothing but the cracked door. The glow of the city outside cast him in crimson and blue as his eyes drifted downwards to see the child.
“Daddy? Daddy I’m scared, is that you?” His heart dropped, and he winked his acknowledgment light red. This wasn’t the mission, the mission was already done. The child rubbed her eyes as she stepped out, then looked towards him in horror. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth went agape in terror, but no scream came. Standing in the darkness he must’ve looked like some kind of monster, perhaps he was one.
“Hadir, you are almost out of time. Finish up.” His finger stayed on the trigger, but he didn’t so much as move. Her family had made their choices, but she hadn’t, that wasn’t right. He wouldn’t accept it. But now she’d seen him, and control knew he’d seen her. They were watching him, they were always watching him.
It wasn’t right, he couldn’t.
“Hadir CALIFORNIA’s orders were all of them. Get it done or you can answer to him.” A chill ran down his spine, and in that moment Hadir Khalilov opened his eyes. Humanity had to be kept in order, but now he questioned by who. He wondered if there might’ve been some other choice, waiting out in the stars. But they weren't here now.
The M7 coughed twice.