“Alright Arbiter,” Marshall growled. “We are going to have ourselves a little chat!” Like walking into a hurled bucket of ice-water Marshall found himself suddenly standing in shock. He had been expecting to lock horns with the Sheriff, to have his chance to pin him down and confront him once and for all. Instead all he found was his Deputy, Rook, looking up at him, calmly seated behind a stack of papers.
“Can I be of service to you, Mr. Lawson; the Sheriff is not in presently,” Rook offered. Despite himself, Marshall stumbled for a moment before recovering to stoke the fire once more that burned inside him. He had lost a measure of the momentum that had carried him here but he wasn’t ready to let it go completely just yet. All he had to do was remind himself of his reasons for coming to see the Sheriff in the first place and just like that he could feel himself warming again.
“Where is he Rook, where is your boss,” Marshall heard himself demand. Riding on his rising rage he slammed forward in a surge to lean on the desk, his brown eyes no longer holding a warm welcome. “I want Arbiter,” he roared ruthlessly. Rook only blinked in response, his eerily iridescent eyes remaining calm against Marshall’s confrontation. “And I said that the Sheriff isn’t here right now,” replied Rook.
“I don’t know what this is about, Mr. Lawson, but if you would kindly calm down and explain the matter maybe I can be of assistance.” As the deputy spoke his eyes caught sight of the weapons that now hung at Marshall’s sides. “I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to surrender those guns though, it isn’t permitted to carry a weapon within town.”
Turn in his guns; was this some kind of sick joke? Marshall couldn’t believe what he was hearing and this from the same man he had just helped avoid an alleyway accident. “He must keep you on a tight leash, ‘eh Rook?” Furious Marshall let loose his tongue upon the dutiful Deputy. “How can you sit there and ask me to remain helpless while people suffer and the lawless go unopposed? The bank was almost just robbed, a man is dead and the only thing that stood between them and the people of Redemption was me. What are you, some whipped dog or a deputy sworn to uphold the law?”
Marshall could mark each barb as it hit home with every intended measure of contempt. And while the Gael-Noir was a notoriously difficult race to read, he thought he could spot a subtle shift in the deep violet eyes that hinted at the fact he might be reaching him. But other than that simple clue, he couldn’t be sure. Every other aspect of the Deputy remained just as relaxed and unchanged as before. It was infuriating, and Marshall readied himself to unleash another violent verbal volley.
“What can I do,” Rook intercepted him in a hushed and somber whisper. “I am just a Deputy; I don’t have the authority to actively combat anyone without the Sheriff’s approval. He establishes the official policy, and he is the one who is directly responsible for enforcing the law. I only work for him, and after that little incident in the alley he told me to stay here and work on this paperwork. I’m on probationary restrictions; no patrolling or anything. He thinks I am going to start some kind of trouble if I keep acting like that and maybe he’s right.”
Marshall remembered when once he himself had just tried to follow orders and patiently stand aside when something happened that he could have stopped. And as he stared into Rook’s eyes he decided he was not about to let another man willingly suffer the same pain. His hand rose from the desk, and its backside cracked against the Deputy’s cheek with a snap to send him clear of the chair.
“Are you, or are you not a sworn officer of the law for the town of Redemption,” Marshall challenged. Rook rubbed at his face before picking himself back up off the floor as he considered his answer. “Ye-yeah, I am,” he admitted awkwardly. “Well then shut up and start acting like it. It is your job to keep people safe, period. Quit making excuses, you’re not ‘just a deputy,’ or only ‘under orders.’ You are an acting agent of the law, if you keep letting your hands stay tied then it is the people of Redemption who suffer. Because to them, you are the law and right now that is something they desperately need.”
“You may be right,” Rook confessed. “But, wait, what do you mean – why did you come here looking for the Sheriff anyways?” “Because of something one of the robbers said,” Marshall reported. “And since you two are the only ones who wear the badge in this town, I can safely rule you out as the corrupt lawman. So that only leaves the Sheriff as the soiled shield.”
“What will you do,” Rook asked, only a lingering tremble in his tone. In answer he found Marshall systematically reloading his revolvers one caseless round at a time. There was an unspoken intention in every practiced motion. It was like watching an act of poetry without the words, one that ended as Marshall holstered his side arms and raised his head to look once more towards Rook.
“No plans, no promises,” he declared with deadly determination. “Gauntlet is going to give him the chance to face his guilt before he goes to the grave.” “I’m not sure I can agree to vigilante violence,” Rook objected as he watched Marshall start to leave. “You don’t have to agree with anything, just don’t try to stop me,” warned the out-of-town outlaw. And without another word on the matter Marshall disappeared out the door, leaving a deputy to consider the nature of his duty.
Episode 15 – Boom-Boom, Batter Up
Arbiter knew better than to expect to find Demure actually parked behind her desk like any other mayor might be, lost in never ending paperwork. Instead, when he entered the room he made it a point to forgo even paying her ornamental office fixture any mind and simply scanned around the space. And, just as he had anticipated; the maiden Mayor was predictably absent from the soft seat.
“What can I do for you today,” Demure purred as she prowled about the room’s perimeter. “Ever the treat as your visits are, Pierce, they are hardly without reason. So, do spare me the needless waiting and indulge me; why are you here this time?” The question was casually put to flight like a flung arrow, a slight tilt of her head trailing her hair over her shoulder. A subtle shift in her stance already told him she knew that she hadn’t missed the mark. It was enough to make Arbiter desperately want to curse; even if he was in the presence of a lady.
“We have a problem,” Arbiter announced. “There is a vigilante on the loose and I believe it may be this new drifter come to town. He’s dangerous, I met him as he stepped off the Titan Train and the man is just too idealistic for his own good. If we don’t do something soon, before he establishes himself, he is liable to start trying to shake things up and become a thorn in our side.”
“So let me get this straight,” Demure mournfully mused. “One man arrives in town and you are worried by him; but he simply sounds naïve to me. Such concerns are beneath me and are a waste of my time. I have a town to run; worrying about every dirt dusted drifter is not something in my job description. However, I suppose if in your infinite wisdom you feel that it is more prudent to be proactive in this matter I can spare my secretary to handle the issue.”
Demure stopped pacing about and placed her hands on her hips as she called for her secretary. “Oh, Miss Velix, would you come in here for a moment please?” Before she had even barely finished the request her platinum haired subordinate strolled into the room dutifully. “Yes, you summoned me Madam Mayor,” Miss Velix answered with a formal bow.
“It seems our dear Sheriff has a matter of some concern troubling him, I would like you to see to the problem and deal with it for me.” Arbiter noticed that as she spoke to her submissive assistant her tone was friendly, gentle even. It was a far cry from the detached and measured manner in which she always addressed him. He had to admit it was somewhat irritating, but he knew better than to take issue with it.
Ashes Velix had earned herself a most fitting nickname over her young career; she was still regarded in hushed conversations with fear and dread. Many a criminal whispered about the infamous ‘Boom-Boom,’ so named because her targets always met some manner of fiery end. Some believed her to be a ruthless Altain
psychopath, others a rogue experimental test subject. But, Arbiter knew the truth and it was far more terrifying; Boom-Boom was little more than just a girl who enjoyed nothing more than blowing up and bashing things. She was little more than a well dressed attack dog who loved her job, intimately.
He had seen her deal with entire crews of hired mercenaries and cut-throat thugs without a flicker of hesitation. For that matter he had helped put out the fires and deal with the damage to the town after the fact as well. There was little doubt in his mind that she could deal with a single stranger; he just hoped the collateral damage would be kept down to only a building or two.
“I would be happy to,” Boom-Boom admitted without even a trace of a grin. “A message just came for you as well, Madam Mayor. It seems Dizcords Daemon’s decided to try and rob the bank just a little while ago. Only trouble was a man ambushed them, someone overly melodramatic and calling their self ‘Gauntlet.’”
A soft bubbling giggle slipped free from Demure at the news before she could regain her composure. “So we have a man playing at being a hero and out here in Redemption no less! How utterly quaint, if not to mention undeniably foolish; what manner of man could be blind enough to think they could survive such a solo crusade?”
“I can think of one easy enough,” Arbiter added. “Well then, let’s be sure to make a thorough example of him then, shall we Miss Velix? We don’t want him going to the next world ignorant of his short-comings, do we,” Demure asked with the patient air of a school teacher lecturing. Boom-Boom merely bowed once more and politely declared; “Yes, Madam Mayor.”
“Do try to stay clear and out of her way on this one Pierce,” Demure advised the sullen Sheriff. “No worries there,” he confessed. “The last place anyone with half a mind left wants to be is anywhere around Boom-Boom when she decides to let loose.” Both ladies leveled their lethal stares his way and Arbiter found himself regretting his lack of forethought or word choice. It made him want to steer clear all the more.
Episode 16 – An Explosive Emergency
“This should do nicely,” Boom-Boom remarked as she surveyed the building around her. It was an old pioneer shelter, erected back in the town’s earlier days for settlers before they struck out to establish homes of their own. Sturdy tetrasteel beams ran throughout the structure providing it more than enough strength to weather the ravages of time. But where time’s heeled step had failed to falter the firm foundation, Boom-Boom was certain she could succeed.
Her heart soared with the rushing thrill of her work as she threw herself into placing several charges about the building’s support beams. With each wired connection she rode the rising wave of glee until the temptation to torment her target grew to be too much. Surrendering to her sadistic side she reached into her satchel of supplies and rummaged about only to withdraw a shinning oval of polished chrome.
Responding to her touch the device registered her unique signature and sparked to life, displaying its holographic interface. A short series of gestures with her thumb and index finger navigated her way through the shimmering screen to call up the precise information she desired. “Active transmission, full security encryption, one way broadcast,” Boom-Boom verbally commanded the diminutive device.
The words ‘Connection received’ floated in the air like threads of gossamer and Boom-Boom relished the thought of someone on the receiving end answering the curious call. “Unless you want to see Sundown Sanctuary turned into a collection of kindling and ashes come there straight away. Better hurry, if even a single soul tries to leave or you make me wait too long; I will not hesitate to blow this building to bits. Happy hunting, hero,” she said sarcastically and then closed the connection with a wave of her hand.
Feeling quite pleased at how everything was going so far, Boom-Boom allowed herself a brief moment to imagine being on the other end of her call. She tried to picture her own hand reaching to answer the incoming transmission from some unknown source, only to hear a distorted digital voice. Surely an endless series of puzzling thoughts must be pouring forth to harass this self-styled hero. By now Boom-Boom was certain the soft-hearted sap was worrying over the fate of strangers and wrestling with what to do to save them. It was all hilariously thrilling to think about.
As she returned to her preparations she started to wonder at just how this drifting do-gooder would try to sneak past her to save everyone. It was the only logical response she could fathom anyone would risk. Perhaps he would try to make use of the rooftop to rescue them, or scale his way up an exterior wall. No matter what he tried she would be ready she reminded herself. Boom-Boom had the detonator for her devices of demolition, and just for fun she always brought with her some bash-batons. Just the thought of blowing the place or breaking some bones made her horribly happy. She couldn’t wait to see which way things worked out; with any luck maybe she would get the chance for both.
♦♦♦
“Well, I don’t know who that was and frankly I don’t give a dusk hound’s hide who it is – there are some good folks who call Sundown Sanctuary home,” Grandma Grael exclaimed. “There isn’t a question about it; you’re going to have to do something. You best get over there and handle the situation, before somebody gets hurt. I hope you have a plan, Mr. Hero.”
Marshall snatched up a handful of small things and slid them into his pockets before considering any other gear. What he needed was some options this time, but his eyes kept going back to some of his grenades. It defied every sound strategy known to him to go marching into a situation that involved explosives while packing even more. Odds were all he would manage to accomplish that way would be to make matters worse or to set off whatever bombs were already in place.
But he wanted options, needed them in fact, and by his own figuring having even a grenade would definitely fit in the optional category. So he grabbed up a pack, shoved an assorted few inside and secured it to some clips along his lower back. Satisfied he was as prepared as he might ever be without wasting even more time he decided to share his brilliant plan with Grandma Grael.
“If those folks’ fates are resting squarely on my shoulders, then I don’t see how I can do anything but give this person exactly what they want; me.” Grandma regarded Marshall carefully for a moment before shaking her head with disapproval. “That is a terrible plan, horrible in fact – are you just going to walk right in there and say here I am,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Actually,” Marshall added as he tried to resist a quick chuckle. “I thought I would just knock and ask ever so nicely if anybody was home.” The bit of humor immediately brought a warm laugh out of Grandma. “I like it,” she admitted, “good luck.”
Episode 17 – She’s going to Blow
Patience had never been Miss Velix’s strong suit; she often told herself that it was her dangerously short fused temper, not her fondness for explosives that earned her the infamous nickname. But either way, for her it was a mark of pride to hear people whisper about her out of fear. It was good to be taken seriously she thought, no matter the reasons. She terribly hated all this waiting though.
The urge to walk away and trigger the detonator for all the wired charges clinging around her to the building was terribly tempting. Even if her primary objective had been to clearly deal with this drifting do-good. What kind of loony loser was this guy anyways she thought to herself as she double-checked a series of sensors strategically placed near some windows. She was determined to catch this self-appointed champion by surprise when he tried to out fox her. The look of shock on his face would be precious payment enough when he tried to slip inside only to discover that he had triggered everything himself.
The sound of booted feet lightly treading upon the dirt outside gently raised an alarm at the back of her mind. While her mind began to ask the subconscious question of what it could be, her hands were already reaching down to grip brutal batons. The weight of them in her grasp sent a surge of sweet adrenaline awake inside her that she welcomed as a r
elief from the waiting.
“Knock, knock,” the stranger spoke from behind her, just outside the open doorway. “Somebody call for pest control?” Boom-Boom turned around, already eager to bash the wise-cracks right from this man’s brains. As he entered through the doorways she noticed a soft smile still in place upon his face and not a single weapon in his hand. This was unbelievable, had he really just walked right in here without even drawing a weapon? Oh, she was really going to enjoy this!
“You have been meddling, Mr. Man,” Boom-Boom said menacingly. “I’m here to educate you about the error of your actions. It’s nothing personal, just business – you understand.”
How typical, Marshall thought to himself; it’s never just business to these types, it is always personal. Their reputation was almost more important to them than breathing and any perceived threat couldn’t be tolerated. Already he had challenged the criminal control of Redemption, so obviously he was expected to simply be about to be ‘dealt with.’ It was still quite humorous to him that this lethal lady didn’t at least seem concerned about the potential of being unable to beat him. But then again as he scanned the room he had to admit that with a building wired to blow she did have a strong hand to play.
“Apologies, never been much good at minding my own business; I guess you might say it isn’t one of my most redeeming qualities.” This girl was good though, Marshall decided, while he engaged in witty banter he studied her body language. She had managed to keep her face expressionless – an empty mask that didn’t seem to register any response to his remark. Even her hands, hands that held barbaric bars well suited to breaking bones denied his attempts to deduce how she might react.