[IC] Where freedom dies(Sci-fi Western)

By the year 5215, Humanity and all that comes with them have spread far and wide across the galaxy, meeting and befriending many different races across the stars, and warring with many more. The Human empire was fear for over a 1000 years across known space, their military a force to be reckoned with.
But beneath the apparent order of the empire, lay the truth; a seething underbelly, dominated by smuggglers, bounty hunters, pirates, mercenaries and everything in between. Deals went down in bars - shootings as well - with barely a glance from the local Imperators. So long as it was small enough to be overlooked, or you had the cash to grease palms with, you could get away with almost anything.

The Empire form in a sort of concentric ring pattern, each one getting wider and wilder as they got further from the center, where bandits and killers plied their trade. The inner planets, where the wealthy, privledged and primarily human lived, was a place of opulence and order. Buildings made entirely of glass and crystal floated in the clouds above gorgeous green oceans. In the circle, the call it heaven; on the frontiers, the untamed call it where freedom goes to die.

Now, with a rebellion forming on one end of the Empire, conflict from warlords and political factions within, a ancient aliens race, long in hibernation, has begun to reclaim whats there, leaving frontier panets on the edge of the empire deolate, no survivors to tell of the horrors. The Imperical Agenda, the ruling caste, are doing their best to keep the threat hidden, but the truth has a way of getting out....

[Shaktzi]

He tromped one foot after the other, dust kicking up around his knees with every impact, a small metal tablet - covered with odd characters - clutched tightly in his hands. He glanced over his shoulder every few steps, glancing neverously over his respirator mask. The things he'd run into back there, robot animal hybrids of some sorts, had been awakened by his removal of the tablet. Looking back, he saw small clouds of dust kicking up over the hills, a dozen at least, signaling that the creatures were hot on his tail.
He looked down at the mapping system on his wrist, dread filling him as he saw he was a mile away from his ship. In this heavy gravity, the things would catch up to him before he made it have way there.
This wasn't his first time running from the guardians of some ancient alien civilization in the uninhabited moons, outside the Empires direct control. Very rarely was it just as easy as walking in a grabbing what he was after; of course, that might be his own fault, as greed made him go after the most valuable and important of artifacts.
Another fifteen minutes later, and he wasn't feeling much better about his situation. He was running now, more of a slow jog, really, and had his large pistol in his hand. The Hybrids came towards him in short, fast bounds. He fired a few shots, cursing at himself for not keeping a few of the assault rifles he delivered on his last run.
"Sure could use that now, you dumb bastard," He wheezed to himself, listening to the high pitched screaming behind him, a horrible sound coming from one of the creatures he'd shot.
Sharp could see his ship, only a few hundred meters away, and he put another burst of energy into his run, praying to a god he didn't believe in he would make it.