Red Star Sheriff

by Timothy Purvis

  They holstered their arms and Aidele turned to Asta, wrapping her arms around her neck. Asta embraced her back, short on words and high on adrenaline. Aidele spoke into her ear.

  “When my mother passed, she said, ‘Don’t let them take the Wastelands. Don’t let them take Hinon,’ to my father.” Aidele let go and stepped back. “At the time, I thought she was talking about you and yours. But, these last few months have shined a light on a different truth, men like Berricks and Nielson. The Union hasn’t given up its war. An mom was involved in fightin’ them, I think. No. I know. She never told nobody because she… was a Red Star Sheriff, and had to keep her activities quiet. Mah father was involved too. It’s why everybody has been after his journal. He created technology that could help the Union finally conquer Hinon. Not for them, of course. But for… my mother. To help her in her fight to drive the Union back. To discover who was helping them. Likely someone on the inside of our government. That was why she didn’t tell you anything. That was why she didn’t want you tagging along. She was afraid you’d get in the way or get hurt and too much was on the line. I can’t say that was it directly… but I feel that is the truth of it, because everything I’ve learned about her and her life that I didn’t know about, all points to her leaving all of us to do this task she felt only she could do.”

  Asta felt the heavy weight on her lift, felt strange emotions surging through her. It all made a sort of sick sense when one stood back and looked at all the little details. “That’s… well, ah don’t know what. Yer momma was a Red Star? Ah… that would explain so much.”

  Asta stared at the floor putting all the pieces together. Yes, that was a strong conclusion. That first time they met and the hurry she was in to get Fenton away. Disappearing for months and years at a time only to return and continue riding. At first, she had to have just found Asta a useful tool. But, then when it came to that final showdown, that wretched affair… ‘I wish I could’ve told you. But this is so much bigger than the two of us…’ Damn it, Mirra! Why didn’t ya let me in! Ah could’ve helped ya! Even if’n ya were worried fer mah safety! Family don’ stand aside fer business like that!

  Aidele tried to smile, but she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Now though there was a bloody mess to contend with. Footsteps raced up the stairwell towards them and they saw Drevan hurrying across the foyer. He slowed down once he saw them. Aidele took a step to the side. An expression of concern was etched on his face but soon gave way to relief. He stopped between them and looked down to what was left of the man on the floor.

  “…Shit. Nielson’s pretty gawddamn dead.”

  Asta crossed her arms, cheeks still wet, and shook her head. “Ah thought ah tol’ ya ta git the kids outta here?”

  Drevan looked back and forth between the two women and took a deep breath. “Ah did. They’re waitin’ out front. I heard a whole lot o’shootin’n that Sonoros feller bolted. Guess he decided he din’t need our help after all. Din’t even say ‘thanks’. Speaking o’which,” he looked to Aidele. “Thanks.”

  Aidele nodded with a slight smile. “Tweren’t nothin’, sir. But, yeah, that Sonoros is as untrustworthy as they come. Ain’ worth worryin’ ‘bout, though. How’s the girl? Looked wounded in the thigh.”

  “Ayup. Shot by that bloody cur right there. She won’ let me dig it out, though. Insists on goin’ ta the hospital.”

  “Hospital? What’s wrong wit’ jus’ diggin’ it out now?” Aidele raised a brow, grin threatening to broaden.

  Drevan tried not to chuckle. “Ah know, right? She’s turned inta quite the city girl. Though, we probably should git her ta the doc’s asap.”

  “Fer we do that, should probably alert the authorities,” Aidele started. “Well, ah ken. Ya’ll git yer girl ta the hospital. Jus’ ask the zipcoach where it is.”

  “Ya sure ‘bout that? Don’t ya need any help here?” Asta furrowed her brows.

  “Gonna call fer help now. Don’ worry, we’ll take care o’it.”

  “Awright. Ain’ gonna argue.” Asta nodded and then walked to Aidele to rub her shoulder. Aidele looked up at her, her face tired but relieved. “If’n ya ever… an’ ah mean, ever, need anything. Ya jus’ let me know. Ah owe ya a lot, yung’un. We’ll be in town fer a spell, ah’d think. Ah know ya got this crazy thought circlin’ yer mind ta go after Berricks. Ya ain’ gotta do that alone.”

  “Yer family needs you. I won’t take you away from them.”

  “Ah… ah think yer family too. Ah done messed up once, kent do that again. Not fer Mirra’s sake.”

  Aidele nodded. “Okay. I’ll… keep that in mind. Now, you two get off to take care of your daughter.”

  “Will do.”

  Aidele tipped her hat and Asta nodded as they parted. Aidele crossed the hall to the holo-index. She waved her hand in front of the console and holographic displays popped out into the air. She triggered an open line and after maybe twenty seconds, Durante answered.

  “Aidele! Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.”

  “Uhm, long story. Get Grandfather. I need his help.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “Here?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

  DURANTE STRUGGLE VALIANTLY to keep up with Aidele, but found her just too fast and angry. He had a good foot on her and longer legs, yet her determination to yell and scream at someone drove her on in a rage filled powerwalk. He couldn’t blame her, of course. After the previous night’s events, he would’ve been angry too. Or should’ve been given the circumstances. Right now, he was just confused. They’d spent most of the night trying to get the local police to look into Nielson’s assault (not to mention find someone willing to scrape him up off the floor). Yet, their response was what one could call alarming. They took down Aidele’s account, swore to meet up with Ms. Lynch and her family at the hospital, then told them to go home. That, if they had any further questions, they’d call.

  Apparently, they’d had no further questions.

  WHEN AIDELE HAD called before all of that, Durante went to wake up Garret to tell him she needed their help. Panicked, Garret had taken the call where Aidele explained everything. He’d tried to reassure her everything would be alright, but to Durante, he seemed plain frightened.

  “Alright. Stay right there. No, we’ll alert the authorities when we near the Praetorium. Just, keep a cautious eye out.” After the call ended, Garret turned to Durante. “Get yourself ready. Once we’re certain we’ll arrive first, we’ll call the police.”

  “Why wait so long?”

  Garret shook his head. “So that we can be there should they arrest Aidele. Which seems likely given the situation.”

  Durante felt his blood drain and they hurried out. They called (well, Garret did) just before arriving and raced inside the Aquilan Consul Praetorium and found a silent scene. A grotesque scene. Durante immediately turned away and vomited all over the floor. Aidele stood near the most savaged body he’d ever seen.

  “Jesus Christ! Oh, Jesus Christ!” he stammered after he was done, keeping his gaze to the wall overlooking the stairwell. “What the fuck, Aidele!?”

  Garret had stomach enough not to turn away. But even he looked pale. “I… take it there was no other way to deal with this man?”

  Aidele shook her head and took up a position between what was left of Nielson and her grandfather, hands raised up as if in defense. “He was tryin’ ta kill us, Grandfather! ‘Sides, he was here fer that crackpot senator, Sonoros. An’ Asta’s daughter got caught up in it!”

  Garret was taken aback. “Sonoros? Why him?”

  “Fuck if ah know. All ah know is that Asta was in trouble an’ her family needed some help.”

  Grandfather frowned. “Yes, so you say. Interesting you and Ms. Lynch should become sudden allies.”

  “We had a common enemy. Well, have, I suppose,” Aidele frowned and lowered her hands. “Nielson was Berricks
’ assassin. He sent him after Sonoros.”

  Garret took a step back and looked to the floor. “…Elien. He’s… he’s the one who set up your father’s labs in the Wastelands… Cooper and Mirra always suspected…”

  “Suspected what, Grandfather?”

  Garret sighed and looked her in the eyes. “That Sonoros was compromised. Working for the Union. I always told them that it was impossible. He was a good man working in the interests of Hinon. However, before the war, Elien had fought hard to avoid conflict with the Union. I just took it for a matter of peace. He was one of the founders of the current Council, after all. Blast it, Elien! Was it all a ruse?”

  Aidele’s face was contorted with an expression of shock. “Wait… are you suggesting Sonoros has been working with the Union all along? And mom and dad suspected it?”

  “Yes. But they could never prove it. Not conclusively. I said it couldn’t be true then. He was a bastard, sure. But he was a man of his people. However, if this assassin was sent to finish him off by Sam… I can draw no other conclusion than your parents were right. I’m sorry, Aidele.”

  “I…” she started then closed her eyes. “We can’t deal with that right now. We have a corpse to clean up, an authority to turn myself into, and… and I don’t know. It’s all against us, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Granddaughter.” Garret went in to hug her and she let him. “Let me make some calls. Why don’t you wait with Durante? Hopefully, we can get this settled soon.”

  “Who’re you gonna call?”

  “An associate who will have connections to legal council. The police should be here soon.”

  Garret went to the holointerface on the corner. Spoke to various people for nearly an hour (the police had yet to arrive), grew angry at the responses he was getting, then, eventually, called the police again.

  “Do you find it unsettling how long this is taking?” Durante asked Aidele doing his best not to look at the body on the floor.

  “A little bit,” Aidele replied with a frown. “It doesn’t feel right. None of it does, honestly. It’s got me more nervous than a long-tailed mesarat in a room full of rockers.”

  Within the next hour, the police finally showed up, took their statements, and said, “Thank you for your time. You may return home. We have your address and commlink. We’ll let you know our findings after our investigation. Should we require any additional information, we’ll contact you at your place of residence.”

  Aidele gawped up at the tall, uniformed Chuhukon with a crew cut of raven hair and dark, piercing eyes. He made a final note in the tablet in his hands and nodded.

  “Wait, you’re not going to arrest me?”

  The officer tilted his head. “Did you not say it was self-defense?”

  “Well, yeah, it was, but—”

  “We’ll verify the account with Ms…” he rechecked his tablet, “Asta Lynch who is currently in hospital. Should the investigation turn up more, we’ll be in contact with you.”

  “I…” Aidele was stunned, and the three of them left while the authorities closed off the foyer and called for a cleaning crew.

  The rest of the night went slowly for Durante. After that whole debacle, Aidele wanted to check on the waverider. She periodically fussed about needing to find a better name for it, but made no extended effort to actively refer to it by something else. Durante examined the vessel with her, he had some ideas about its functions he wanted to verify. Then she decided to wander around mumbling to herself. The docking bay was nearly deserted with only a handful of people landing or leaving. She stood staring out at the plasma shielding at the far end of the bay and he watched to make sure she wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown or something. There wasn’t much to see beyond the shielding save for a dark horizon and bright stars above and beyond.

  There was a certain sadness to it all, he reflected. It was regrettable that she’d been through so much and he knew it wasn’t over yet. Not by a longshot. However, there wasn’t anything he could change of their fate at that moment either and spent the rest of the night tinkering with the waverider.

  When dawn broke, he locked up the vehicle and wandered over to where she was still pacing and muttering to herself. He didn’t think she’d had any sleep in the last twenty-four hours, but knew she wasn’t likely to get any until after the Council meeting set for eight AM that Garret had set up. A meeting in which the old Chuhukon hoped that a private conversation would solve one of two problems (if not both): with the presence of a Union assassin, would they not consider action now? And why were the local authorities unconcerned about a potential homicide (not to mention shootout) in the Praetorium itself? This second issue because the Praetorium Guard, though alerted, had never deigned it necessary to arrive and merely left the matter to the local police to contend with.

  “Come on, we have to get some breakfast,” Durante said approaching Aidele. “You haven’t eaten since… shit, I don’t know when. Yesterday? Did you have any of that junk? Or did you leave it to me to see what would happen?”

  Aidele ignored his attempt at humor and glanced at him, her features showing exhaustion and impatience. “We have to see the Council! We have to know why the authorities here are so… gawddamned lackadaisical about crime! And, I’m worried. What if… they still won’t do anything? What do we do then?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” he sighed. “However, we won’t solve anything pacing the docks. You need to eat.”

  She grumbled but relented. “Fine. I’m not hungry but…”

  “We’ll figure something out, Aidele. I’m sure your grandfather will have some stern words for them.”

  “I hope so. If not, well, I’ve got plenty enough for all of us.”

  Durante smiled. “Ain’t that the truth?”

  They went and grabbed breakfast at a local diner not far from the Praetorium. He was exhausted himself having only taken a catnap of maybe two hours before Aidele had called the night before. Yet, he still felt some energy as the time came to meet with the Council (who’d graciously agreed to a brief gathering in the Great Hall itself with just three of the Council. But he knew one was for Aquila Mons and its affiliated territories).

  NOW HERE THEY were, marching through the halls towards the amphitheater where the Council met. They passed the place of Nielson’s last stand. Say what you would about the governing capacity of the city, but their janitorial staff was second-to-none. The walls and floor were so clean and vibrant you’d never know some man was dismembered there the night before. Just the thought of that made him shudder and want to vomit again.

  They came to the end of a long corridor letting out onto the Council chambers themselves. Two Praetorium Guard, one to each side of the corridor entryway, stood watch looking towards one another like great stone statues of yore. Unmoving and unacknowledging. A sudden panic hit Durante. Aidele was still wearing her holster and revolvers. Fully loaded revolvers. Yet the Guard did nothing, said nothing as they passed. Not even when she began raging in that way of hers as she started down a downward slope between great swaths of senatorial seating and towards the great raised circular dais at the center of the chamber hall whereupon stood the three consulars speaking solemnly to Garret and the two senators they’d met before: Orros Calgary and Doan Pritchard. Both of whom stood at the base of the dais looking up to them like children being scolded by their parents.

  “D’ya care ta explain,” Aidele’s raised voice, filled with frustration, carried across the Great Hall where any and all could hear it clearly, “ta me why it ain’ ‘relevant’ if’n someone gits dead out in yer main foyer!?”

  Garret had earlier contacted them explaining the Guard had determined, along with the police, that what had occurred was indeed an act of self-defense and that any further filing of reports was an unnecessary and irrelevant action given the case’s closure. Aidele had not taken that well. At all.

  As she marched down the aisle decline, the three Chuhukon consulars glared at
her, not so much menacingly, but more in a way that suggested they were already bored with this interaction.

  The middle of the three, a tall man with deep red skin and dark raven black hair folded up into the most perfect French twist every applied (not a hair out of place, even), clasped his hands together before him and raised a brow. To Durante, he looked like some sort of dark elf one might roll up in a solnet role playing game. Consular Dark Elf… Durante thought ruefully. The consular’s robes were long and elegant. A ruddy brown with ruby red trimmings. An indication that he was Aquila Mons’ representative consular. Just one of the thirteen domains that each consular represented.

  “And what response were you praying for, Ms. Wilson?” His voice was low and measured yet it thrummed in such a manner that it too commanded all in attendance to listen. “To be arrested on scene?”

  Aidele came to a stop a few feet from the dais but still between the bottom row of seating. She pointed, her face on the verge of contorted rage. “It woulda been a start! At least ah’d known then yer lawmen are serious! Ah woulda argued self-defense, o’course, but this complete lack o’response from ya’ll in yer own hall o’justice is jus’… jus’ outrageous!”

  “From what we’ve gleaned,” Consular Dark Elf replied, “this was a matter of dispute between yourself, Ms. Lynch, and Mr. Nielson. That it ended in bloodshed is unfortunate. That it occurred here in these halls, regrettable. However, it is not in our purview to dictate to citizens how to handle their affairs.”

  Aidele tossed her hands up, “And that Nielson was tryin’ ta kill one o’yer own senators!?”