by G J Ogden
“Oh, he was always flittin’ to and fro,” Dana said, dropping down into a chair beside Sterling and resting her legs up onto his thighs. “He’d take off in his shuttle and sometimes be gone for weeks. Folk used to joke that he was kidnapping people and selling them off-world.” Dana and the Marshal then joined in another round of laughter. “When he was here, the old scoundrel was always in some woman’s bed. I reckon it was one of the husbands that finally either chased him off or put him in a hole.”
The Marshal appeared affronted by Dana’s last statement. “I can assure you, madam, I would not stand for any form of vigilantism,” the lawman said. “If there was a misdemeanor of any sort, my deputies and I would have dealt with it.”
Dana snorted a laugh then stroked the Marshal’s face. “He’s a dear, isn’t he?” she said before sliding her legs off Sterling’s thighs. The sudden release of pressure made it feel like his feet were about to float off the floor.
“So, do you have any idea where he went?” Sterling asked, attempting to prevent Dana and the Marshal from wandering off-topic.
“Oh, I recall him mentioning something about somewhere to someone,” Dana said, with a dismissively and flamboyant waft of her hand. “I remember he told one of the girls that he was headed to Fardepp-Neyn, if that’s any help? I think he said it was some sort of space base, but he was drunk and slurring his words, so I really don’t know.”
Sterling frowned then turned to Banks, but she looked similarly at a loss. Banks tapped the computer wrapped around her wrist and brought up a map of the Void colonies and installations surrounding Oasis Colony.
“Thank you for your help, Dana,” said Sterling, pulling three silver coins – the general currency in the Void - from a pocket in his tunic and pressing them into the woman’s hand.
“No, thank you,” replied Dana, squeezing Sterling’s hand as she took the coins. She then stood up, still holding onto his hand. “And the offer still stands, handsome, if you feel like hanging around here a little longer.”
Dana then let Sterling’s hand slip from hers, as if they were lovers who had been forced to bid each other a heartbreaking farewell, and returned to the bar area.
“I think I need to switch up my uniform,” said the Marshal, waggling his eyebrows as Sterling. I’d get lucky far more often if I had some threads like those. Banks, as expected, rolled her eyes.
“He can’t have gone too far in a shuttle,” said Sterling. He then turned to the computer screen attached to his first officer’s arm and scanned the list of systems. “But I’ve never heard of a system or a colony called Fardepp-Neyn.”
They continued to scour the star map for a time, while the Marshal looked on with interest. However, nothing with the name Dana had mentioned came up.
“Wait, scroll back a few inches,” said Sterling. Something had caught his eye. Banks did as he requested, but she just frowned. “What have you seen? There’s nothing called Fardepp-Neyn in this region.”
Sterling smiled then pointed to a name on the screen. “There, do you see it?”
Banks scowled again. “Far Deep Nine?” she said, reading the name of the location on the star map. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
“It’s an old, disused mining and research station, and it’s well within range of a shuttlecraft,” Sterling replied, his confidence in his discovery unshaken by Banks’ doubt. “And the name fits, sort of. Dana said that Colicos was drunk and slurring when he said it.”
Banks returned an acquiescent shrug then tapped her computer to fold the screen back around her arm. “It’s worth a shot,” she agreed. “It won’t take us long to get there, and we could always come back if it’s a bust.”
Sterling nodded then turned to the Marshal, intending to thank the man and request permission to return if needed. However, while he and Banks had been studying the star map, the lawman had drawn two plasma pistols. The barrels of the weapons were aimed at Sterling and Banks.
“Oh, I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere just yet,” said the Marshal.
Chairs screeched across the floor again and three men stood up. Each of them was armed with a plasma hand-cannon, and they were pointing them at the backs of Sterling’s and Banks’ chairs.
Chapter 14
There are always twelve
Sterling flopped back in his seat and shook his head. Just for once, it would be nice if we could catch a break… he thought as he stared down the barrel of Marshal Masterson’s plasma pistol. Glancing across to Banks, he watched her smooth her hair behind her ear then fold her arms. The act was subtle and the Marshal showed no sign that he’d observed Sterling’s first officer activate her neural implant.
“What the hell is it with you Marshals, anyway?” asked Sterling, glaring back at the man holding him at gunpoint. He could already feel his blood begin to boil. “You’re supposed to be honorable lawmen, but so far your lot have been as trustworthy as Void Pirates.”
The Marshal smiled, causing his thick, bushy moustache to twitch as if it were alive.
“Word has it that you killed Marshal Killian, out at Hope Rises,” the Marshal said, his smile falling off his face as he spoke. “Killing a Marshal is one the worst crimes you can commit out here in the Void.” Then the Marshal leaned across the table, the leather of his waistcoat creaking as his did so. “And out here, you’re in my jurisdiction, Captain. Fleet doesn’t count for a damned thing.”
Sterling straightened up, bringing his eyes level with the Marshal’s. The lawman’s face looked even more incongruous close up; the smooth, youthful skin contrasting with facial hair of a style and period centuries old.
“He never told us his name, but the Marshal at Hope Rises double-crossed and swindled us,” said Sterling, speaking firmly despite the deadly weapons aimed at him. “He got what he deserved. It’s natural justice.”
This statement appeared to anger the Marshal. “You don’t get to dispense justice out in the Void, son,” the lawman said. “You Fleet folks forfeited that right when you abandoned us.”
The tone of the Marshal’s voice, plus the condescending use of the word, “son” – Sterling was easily six- or seven-years Masterson’s senior – just pissed Sterling off even more.
“I get to defend myself, like anyone else,” Sterling hit back. “Marshal Killian, if that was his name, made a mistake when he crossed me.” Sterling then moved in closer, so that they were almost nose to nose. “I suggest you don’t make the same mistake.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats,” the Marshal countered.
The lawman then shoved his chair back and stood up, nodding to his deputies as he did so. The three other lawmen circled around Sterling and Banks, not letting their aim slip even for a second.
“You can’t arrest me, I have an entire ship and crew outside,” said Sterling, also rising to his feet.
Banks, who had remained quietly focused on the three deputies also rose. Sterling could see the tautness of her muscles and the determination in her eyes. She was a coiled spring.
“How exactly do you expect to hold me with just the four of you?” Sterling added, pushing the man to reveal his play.
“I don’t expect to hold you, Captain,” the Marshal spat back. “I’m judging you, son, and my judgement is guilty. My sentence is death.”
The lawman then flicked the barrel of one of his plasma pistols toward the wall, beckoning for them to move toward it. Sterling obliged and Banks followed, but all the time, Sterling had his eye on the door. The Marshal then stepped out from behind the table and took up position in the center of the floor. The other occupants of the bar, including the owner of the establishment, Dana, had now moved well out of the line of fire.
“I don’t answer to you, Marshal,” said Sterling, standing tall. “And I warned you not to cross me. Now we have to do this the hard way.”
Plasma blasts fizzed inside the hotel bar and two of the Marshal’s deputies fell, smoke rising from precisely-aimed plasma burns to
their chests. The Marshal and remaining deputy spun around and fired, but Lieutenant Shade had already made it through the door and taken cover behind the end of the bar. The Marshal opened fire at Shade, blasting holes in the bar and wall to her side.
“Kill the one by the door!” the Marshal yelled to his deputy. “The captain and the woman are mine.”
The deputy spun his weapon toward Shade as the Marshal again took aim at Sterling. However, Banks had already uncoiled and sprang into action. Grabbing a chair from the table beside her, she launched it at the Marshal with all her strength. The chair hit the lawman like a cannonball, barreling the man into the bar and causing him to bounce off it like a deer hitting the fender of a truck. The Marshal’s body collapsed into a crumpled heap on the floor, legs and arms broken into impossible positions. The lawman looked like something out of a twisted horror movie.
Banks then turned her attention to the deputy. However, having witnessed the ferocity of her attack, and the warped remained of the Marshal on the floor, the man wasted no time in thrusting his hands in the air.
“Hey, take it easy lady,” said the deputy, allowing his pistol to fall from his hand and clatter onto the steel tile floor. The man then turned to Sterling. “You can just walk out of here, it’s all good. No hard feelings, okay?”
“No hard feelings?” Sterling laughed, stepping into the center of the saloon. He picked up the deputy’s pistol and toyed with it in his hands. “I came here offering a fair exchange and instead, you try to kill me and my officer.”
“Look, it was the Marshal, not me,” the deputy protested. “I was just following his orders.”
Sterling met the man’s eyes. He’d given the Marshal and his deputies fair warning and now it was time to dispense some summary judgement of his own.
“I told you what would happen if you crossed me,” Sterling continued, aiming the pistol at the man, “and unlike the Marshal, I’m a man of my word.”
Sterling squeezed the trigger and shot the deputy at point-blank range. The all too familiar smell of burned flesh and fabric wafted past his nose. However, he was more disgusted by the treachery of these so-called lawmen than he was by the odor of charred flesh.
The deputy hit the floor and Sterling tossed the pistol onto the body. Lieutenant Shade had now been joined by four commandoes, all armed with plasma rifles. The remaining patrons of the bar had fallen silent and were cowering behind tables and whatever cover they could find. All expect for one man.
Sterling walked over to the giant who was still standing guard by the weapons locker. Unlike the others in the bar, he had remained precisely in the same position. It was as if the man considered the chance of being shot preferable to the effort of moving his elephant-like frame.
“I’ll be needing my weapon back now,” said Sterling, nodding toward the locker.
“No can do,” the man boomed, pointing to a red light on the locking system. “It locks when the alarm goes off. Stops people from stealing the guns.”
Sterling frowned at the man. “What alarm? I don’t hear any alarm.”
The man raised a cigar-sized finger to the ceiling. Sterling looked up and saw another flashing red light.
“Silent alarm. There will be a dozen more deputies outside now,” the man said, slowly lowering his hand to his side.
Sterling looked over to Banks then hooked a thumb toward the locker. “Do you want to do the honors?”
Banks moved over to the weapons lockers and the large man backed away as she approached, as if they were opposing poles of a magnet. She then spent a few seconds testing various hand holds on the lid before taking the strain. The hinges of the locker creaked and groaned as Banks continued to apply more and more force. She then let out a roar and tore the lid clean off. Like the Marshal, it too barreled across the floor and bounced off the bar before spinning like a discarded hubcap in the middle of the room.
“Not bad,” the enormous man said, nodding in appreciation.
“My commandos are in position,” said Shade, lowering her hand from her neural implant. “They count ten more deputies, set up around the front of the hotel.”
“Twelve,” the large man said.
Sterling frowned up at the giant. “Twelve what?” he asked.
“Twelve deputies outside,” the man answered. “Always twelve. Never more. Never less.”
“Thanks for the tip,” said Sterling.
Banks recovered Sterling’s pistol from the locker and offered it to him. Sterling took the weapon then noticed that his first officer’s pistol was back in its holster.
“You’re going to need that,” Sterling said, pointing to Banks’ weapon.
“I’ve got an upgrade,” Banks replied, smiling. She then pulled what looked like a sawn-off shotgun from the locker. However, the construction of the weapon was clearly plasma in origin, rather than a conventional firearm.
“I don’t think that’s exactly standard Fleet issue,” replied Sterling, trying to sound suitably captainly, though in truth he was jealous of his first officer’s find.
“You don’t mind me taking this, do you?” Banks said, looking up at the giant man.
“Normally, yes,” the man replied. Then he shrugged his shoulders, which looked more like they belonged to a bull than a man. “But in your case, no.” The giant shot Banks a wide, toothy smile.
“We’re all set, Captain,” said Shade, moving up beside the door. “There’s cover just off the veranda. I suggest we walk out, get the deputies to show themselves, then spring our own trap.”
Sterling nodded. “Say the word, Lieutenant. This is one sanctuary that I’ll be glad to see the back off.”
Shade began a silent countdown on her fingers then she and the commandoes stepped outside. Sterling and Banks followed, walking calmly across the veranda and down the steps of the Hotel Grand. Figures then slid out from behind parked vehicles, signboards, luggage trucks and anything else large enough to conceal a body. Sterling saw the glint of weapons in the sunlight.
“Hold it right there!” a voice called out.
Sterling scanned the scene, but couldn’t see who had uttered the cry. Then a man stepped out into the open from behind a parked transit. A deputy’s badge on his coat sparkled under the early evening sun.
“You’re all under arrest,” the man called out. “Marshal Masterson will decide what to do with you.”
“You’ll have to unfold him first,” Sterling shouted back. He then hooked a thumb back toward the doors of the hotel. “He’s in a heap on the floor back there. I think his days of judging are over. Don’t make the same mistake he did.”
The deputy took a few paces forward and was illuminated by a streak of light piercing through the cloud. It was like a spotlight had been shone on the man.
“I don’t mean that Marshal Masterson,” the deputy said. “I mean Marshal Masterson senior.”
Sterling winced and sighed. The last thing they needed right now was a vengeful Void Marshal hunting them down. However, what was done was done and there was no turning back now, he realized.
“I only count ten, sir,” said Lieutenant Shade, who had been surveying their surroundings while Sterling and the deputy were speaking.
“Perhaps the big guy was wrong?” suggested Banks.
“Ten, twelve, fifty, a hundred, I don’t give a damn,” Sterling replied, flexing his fingers and hovering his hand by the grip of his pistol. “If they stand against us, they’re the enemy, no different to the emissaries, the aides or the Sa’Nerra themselves. We’re not out here playing games. The stakes are too high.” Sterling then stepped out into the road and faced the deputy. “I’ll give you the same chance to back down as I gave the Marshal,” Sterling said, loud enough that all of the other deputies could hear too. “You won’t get this offer a second time.”
The deputy’s eye twitched and he also hovered his hand by the side of his pistol. “The law is the law, Captain,” the man said. “And out here, Masterson’s word is final.”
>
The deputy then reached for his weapon, but Sterling’s draw was quicker. Plasma flashed through the air and the deputy was struck cleanly in the center of his chest. The man’s body hadn’t even hit the ground before a symphony of plasma blasts erupted all around him, lighting up the darkening evening sky for the briefest moment. Seconds later silence and gloom had descended again. Then the smoke cleared, carrying with it the scent of burning flesh. All ten deputies lay dead on the floor, but Sterling and his Omega crew stood strong.
“It looks like there were only ten of them, after all,” said Sterling, shrugging.
Suddenly, the doors to the hotel swung open and two more men rushed outside, weapons raised. Plasma flashed from their pistols, but flew wide. Then a sound like a bomb exploding pieced the air and the two men were sent flying back through the swinging doors of the saloon. It was like they’d been hit by a train. Sterling saw Commander Banks rest the plasma cannon over her shoulder, pointing the smoking twin barrels of the weapon to the sky.
“I’m definitely keeping this,” said Banks, smiling.
One of the workers from the spaceport then timidly approached, holding a personal digital assistant. Two of the commandoes nearest to Sterling aimed their weapons at the woman, but Sterling waved them off. He could see that the worker was unarmed.
“Captain Sterling, is that your name?” the woman asked. Sterling nodded then holstered his pistol. “I have a list of items to transfer from your ship.” She held out a PDA to Sterling while nervously looking at the dead bodies on the floor. “Though, I guess the trade is off, right?”
Sterling took the PDA out of the worker’s hand then thumbed the pad to authorize the transfer of ownership to the City of Sanctum.
“I’m a man of my word,” Sterling said, holding the small computer out to the woman, who gingerly took it from his hand. “Do me a favor, though,” he added, as the woman meekly met his eyes. “If anyone asks what happened here, remind them which side honored their bargain, and which did not.”
The woman nodded. “I will, but…” she then hesitated, as if she had immediately regretted opening her mouth.