Red Star Sheriff

by Timothy Purvis

  No small task…

  She lowered the faceplate on her helmet to cover her face. Sure, she’d flown down from the Invicta into Hinon’s atmosphere, but now she was flying out into the outer solar system.

  Don’t shit yourself… Remember what Durante said, focus on the task at hand. Not the… very real possibility of a horrible death waiting in a virtual wasteland of infinite space. No worries. No worries at all… She swallowed hard. Alright… here we go.

  She triggered a panel on the display hovering in the air before her, and the waverider zipped forward into deep space with a trail of purple light vanishing behind leaving a stream of afterimages frozen temporarily in time. Like a bubble of light had existed in front of the eyes viewing it, only for it to have vanished in the very next instance. Only an afterimage remained. After a moment, it was just Hinon, slowly spinning in a strangely ethereal way. As if it was wondering, who would be the first to return?

  EPILOGUE: WHAT WAS LEFT UNSAID

  WORRYING THE PAST

  COLIN ‘JACKS’ JACKSON sat atop of his horse staring back at Rented City. The place was a rundown ramshackle town out in the middle of nowhere. The people were vicious (and not in a good way, he didn’t suppose), the food practically rotten, the water stagnant, and the horses looked at the end of their ropes. It was a joke it called itself a ‘city’. Sure, it had five good ‘roads’ crossing its perimeters, but most of the passageways were alleys where seedy outlaws took pleasure in murdering and raping. Not the sort of people he’d have ever associated with, not even in his youth. These were the kind of folk (dirty, puke coated men mostly) that gave criminality a bad reputation. And he was glad to be done with the place.

  For practically the last week, he’d been tracking down a young woman by the name of Caitlyn. General Berricks had reached out to him, made the request. At first, he politely declined. But Berricks’ silent, steely gaze changed his perspective right quick.

  ‘Well, since ya put it that way, general, ah’d be honored ta find yer daughter sir.’ Honored. There was another joke he couldn’t wait to be done with. The search needed to end and soon. The Union was coming back, he could feel it, and he wanted his family nowhere near them when they did.

  Which was why he was done with this mission. He’d done what Berricks had asked. And, lucky him, he’d discovered that the young Ms. Caitlyn Berricks (running under the name of Caitlyn Terrance—which, apparently, was her previous married name), had been murdered some years earlier. Raped, murdered, and then hung up to dry as a message to those who sought to stand against the local thug in charge. Not that she was agitating against the wannabe overlord of the time, Jacks had discovered. No, she’d just made the unconscionable decision to not be said overlord’s wench. He hadn’t taken kindly to that. And that left General Berricks’ only daughter five years or more buried as a result. She’d had a daughter, he’d discovered, but no one remembered her name and she had long since fled the town. That was a dead end he didn’t feel like pursuing any further. As far as Jacks was concerned, they were both dead. And he didn’t care to know why Caitlyn had fled. Only that she had. And that was more than enough to convince Jacks the time had come to get the hell off of Hinon. Sure, his wife was laying into him about the upheaval to family life, about how it would destroy her career with the school marm’s association she belonged to, but there were no two ways about the issue. He was going to turn back now, gather up his family (the wife, two kids), and beat it off world tomorrow if at all possible. He had enough clout in Aquila mons for that, he figured.

  Jacks twisted his horse around, gave one final look at the grave in the small cemetery at the edge of town (looking right at the unmarked grave where Mrs. Terrance, aka Ms. Berricks, had been lain to rest), and then turned to ride out for the nearest shuttle terminal. He’d been in a few fights over the last few days and his face was tired from absorbing all the fists from angry outlaws who didn’t want to share so much about the locals. They all shared in the end, of course. Jacks just had a real way with words, after all. But what he had heard was more than enough to tell him the general wasn’t ever going to find closer with his young princess. The scent of the graveyard hung heavy over the area and Jacks was too eager to get away from the place.

  JACKS WAS BACK in Aquila Mons before evening fell and made a quick stop by the cruise liner bureau. There, he purchased four tickets bound for Titan, and then made for home to pack. When he entered his apartment on the twenty sixth floor of the midtown economies, he was greeted by his wife, Hestia. She gave him a deep kiss and a genuinely bright smile.

  “Glad you got back home alright, honeybear. Been missin’ you something fierce since you’ve been gone. You manage to get your affairs sorted out there?”

  They disengaged from their embrace and he pulled off his holster and jacket. “Oh yeah. Got it right figured out. Gonna hafta make a call here real soon. Then… well, love, ah’ve got something ah need ta tell ya.”

  Hestia shook her head and crossed her arms. “This isn’t about you wantin’ to get off world again, is it? I told you, there’s nothing going on, and there’s nothing to be fearful of. The Council has everything in hand. We haven’t needed to worry about the Union in decades.”

  Jacks sat down on the couch and yanked his boots off, some sand came flowing out of one and he absently wondered when the hell that had happened. “Ya may be right, darlin’, but ah ain’ takin’ any chances. Ah booked us a trip ta Titan on the morrow morn. Gonna jet by ten. Least let a few weeks go by to allow things ta cool down round here.”

  “Are you serious!? Damnit, Colin! You can’t go makin’ decisions like this without consulting me!”

  “Woman, ah wouldn’t hafta make decisions like this if’n ya weren’t so gawddamned stubborn! Jus’ make sure’n the kids’re well rested. We leave in the mornin’. Look, if’n things’re good, we’ll be back in two weeks. Okay?”

  He drooped his arms over his knees and stared up at her, his eyes pleading with her to understand. At first, Hestia stared at him with her narrowed eyes. But, after a minute, relented.

  “Alright. So long as this isn’t permanent.”

  “Ah really hope not. But, fer now, it’s jus’ a vacation, alright?”

  She sighed. “Alright.”

  “Do me a favor, pack up the kids’ suitcases for the time, kay? Ah’m serious ‘bout leavin’ early.” He stood up and gave her a hug. “Ah gotta make a call. Will ya do that fer me?”

  Hestia had a small sort of panic in her eyes but she nodded. “Yeah. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it. Only because I love you so much. But this had better not be like that time with the squid.”

  “We ain’ speakin’ o’that squid ever ‘gain! That sumabitch was ornerier than a dog on wetlands dank.”

  “Uh huhn.”

  He smiled at her and entered his private den to the back of the apartment. He booted up his holoprojector and input the contact information for the Invicta. The connection buzzed for several long minutes but no one ever picked up. He frowned. Now, what do ya suppose that means?

  Jacks decided that if Berricks didn’t mean to hear out what he found, then he didn’t need to go out of his way to tell him about it. He went to bed and then woke up bright and early. It took a couple of hours to wrangle up the kids, get the wife awake, make breakfast, and pack up the private shuttle to head to the departure terminals. It was almost eleven o’clock before they were aboard the interspatial cruiser heading out into the outer colonies. Jacks had told his wife it’d only be a couple of weeks. However, he knew the journey to Titan would take at least that amount of time. Whatever they discovered upon arrival would either ease his mind or set him more on edge.

  They found their seats. Got settled in. The kids were at each other’s throats as usual with Hestia trying to play peacemaker. The ship left space dock and headed away from orbit when the worst happened. Jacks saw it first and only stared. Hestia screamed once it all began in earnest. The Union ship Invicta came around the edge o
f the twilight terminus, then opened fire on Aquila Mons. The city rippled under the force of the projectiles. They could see it from their viewport. It was only one shot at a time at first. But after a few minutes, all the portside cannons had opened up.

  “Oh my god! Colin! Colin! What are they doing!? Why are they doing that!? Our home! Our city! Colin! Say something!”

  Jacks was quiet for a long moment only mumbling in response afterwards, “It’s just as ah said, honeybear. Union’s done come fer us all…”

  She cried and only then was he aware of the toll it was taking on her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as their children struggled to see out the windows. The whole passenger section abuzz with fear and disbelief. The captain’s voice said that they should all buckle in for safety as the jump to subspace was about to be initiated. That would take them away from this horror show in the interim. But Jacks knew this was just the beginning and wished he’d ignored Berricks’ request from the get go. Sumabitch has come back ta git his reckonin’… We ain’ gonna let it stand. No, sir. Someone’s gonna git his number. Ah jus’ know it.

  To his wife he whispered into her ear, “It’s alright, mah love. We’re gonna be fine. It’s horrible now, but it’s not forever, okay?”

  She nodded slowly into his chest watching the rising flames spark out of the shielding surrounding Aquila Mons as it collapsed. And then, there was only the dust. The cruiser jumped and that was the last they ever saw of Hinon.

  RUNNIN’ O’THE BULLS

  TREVOR BIGGS AND Willis Wedge sat in a tavern in Donnor’s Drop waiting for word from Lieutenant Nielson. They’d already been there a couple of days and had yet to hear anything from Nielson or any other Union personnel. In fact, they were the only two Union related persons in the whole of the small town some forty miles north of Aquila Mons. Most of the inhabitants of Donnor’s Drop didn’t much care for either Biggs or Wedge and it was becoming a thornier issue every hour they remained. It was becoming even clearer that they would have to do more than merely wait for word.

  “I’m not kidding,” Wedge said sucking down another swig of beer. “We need to just jump on the shuttle and high tail it back to the Invicta.”

  Biggs shook his heavy, bushy topped head and clapped his palm on the tabletop. “We were given directives by Lieutenant Nielson to wait here for further instructions. I ain’t aiming to go against orders.”

  “There isn’t going to be any further orders, Biggs. I can feel it.”

  “You always were a panicky sort, Wedge. Give it a little more time.”

  Wedge stared hopelessly into his mug. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. Sure, old Mattie done patched up my shoulder, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re in the line of fire still. Like, something big is coming for us all.”

  “You’re just panicking again. Mr. Nielson has taken care of that crazy young girl and will be here by the end of the day. I guarantee it.”

  They sat there a moment longer, not realizing that the tavern had suddenly gotten really quiet and two men were approaching their table from the bar. The men, grizzly looking with scratchy brown beards and itching gun arms, stood a few feet away glaring down at the two. Neither noticed the men until one cleared his throat and growled.

  “This here’s fer local company,” the tallest of the two spoke. His skin deeply tanned from long hours out on the plains of the domain caring for his cattle or tending to the crops. He had a face that was unkind and unfriendly.

  Wedge stared up at the man. “Come again?”

  Biggs turned to the man as well and knitted his brows. “Sorry, sir. We’re on official business and have no time for whatever festivities you wish us to engage in.”

  The man grumbled again and spat on the floor. “Weren’t askin’ ya ta go dancin’. Not in that matter, no way. Time’s fer ya two ta git gittin’n don’ come back.”

  Biggs stood up pushing the chair he was in backwards and skidding across the floor. He stood at nearly six-foot five. Though he towered over the gruff man, said man wasn’t intimidated and seem rather angrier as a result. Wedge stood as well, though more tepidly. His height was on par with the angry denizen but his build was stockier.

  “Last I checked, this was a free establishment,” Biggs grumbled in return.

  Three more men joined these two, all of them of the stock common to the farming community. All of them looking put out that Union boys would be in their ranks.

  “Not sure yer hearin’ correctly, son,” an older gentleman towards the rear of these five men spoke. He was clean shaven with graying hair, but his face said he was no less dangerous than the others with him.

  Biggs raised a brow. “I heard you just fine, old man. We have just as much right to be sittin’ here as you lot.”

  Laughter rung out around the tavern as more men looking to get into a brawl surrounded Biggs and Wedge. Wedge took on a nervous look and seemed poised to dart.

  “Hey, Biggs. Why don’t we just leave? I’m not seeing this being worth our time.”

  “Oh? We ain’t worth the time o’some no good Union stooges?” a young man behind him said, his drawl thick and obnoxious.

  “There’s no reason we should be leaving, Wedge. We still have our mission to consider.”

  “I’m not too sure our mission applies to tussling with the locals.”

  Before Biggs could retort with his own special amount of levity, a fist broadsided his cheek and he went reeling into their table. And that was when all hell broke loose and Biggs and Wedge were forced to fight their way out to the front of the tavern. They held their own for a goodly bit, knocking out seven guys (four for Biggs and three for Wedge) before managing to find themselves out on the deck surrounding the saloon exterior. Once there, they readied themselves to retreat to their shuttle but instead were greeted by more of the locals waiting for them outside of the tavern.

  “Get out of our town, Union cunts!” a woman cried out to much cheering from the dozens surrounding her.

  “Oh shit!” Biggs heard Wedge shout and he decided enough was enough and so the two of them ran off the deck and towards the end of town where their shuttle was located.

  The locals within the tavern raced out the swinging doors to join the masses giving chase of Biggs and Wedge. Their long legs carried them faster, but not by much as it seemed the whole of the town was right on their posterior. They ran kicking up dust until their lungs were burning under the exertion and yet the townspeople were not letting up their pursuit. Biggs led Wedge up a hillside beyond the edge of town seeing that more people were racing towards them from where their shuttle had ostensibly been parked. It didn’t seem to be there anymore.

  “This… isn’t… good… Biggs!” Wedge shouted as they hit the summit of the hill and looked back. They were practically surrounded.

  “No, Wedge, this doesn’t look good at all.”

  They stood their ground looking down at the whole of the town steamrolling up the hill towards them.

  “Is this how our short lives end? Marauded over by the townsfolk of Donnor’s Drop?”

  “Certainly can understand where they got the name from, though.”

  Biggs and Wedge pulled their arms not wanting to fire on the locals but ready nonetheless. And then the whole of the town stopped, staring up at them with wide eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s right! We’re packing heat!” Biggs shouted triumphantly.

  And then the townspeople screamed and turned away. Several stood pointing and speaking animatedly. But their conversation wasn’t about Biggs and Wedge. The two of them stared at the sudden reversal of fortune and then turned around, albeit rather slowly given the state they’d found themselves in. Upon inspecting what was the source of the town’s fear, Wedge crossed his chest with his right hand’s finger.

  “Oh, Christ, Biggs. Look at that…”

  Off on the horizon, Aquila Mons was being destroyed by cannon fire from the skies. There was little doubt what vessel was r
aining down hell.

  “You think Nielson is in there?”

  The shadow of the Invicta in orbit was a hazy outline, the firing streaming down hot flashes of red and green turning to a purple roil as the shielding surrounding the city collapsed into nothing. Biggs sighed.

  “If he wasn’t, nobody bothered to let us in on it. There’s only one thing for it now.”

  “What’s that, Biggs?”

  “We need to contact Philadelphia.”

  “Ah, yes. That might help us out of this pickle.”

  “Wonder if they would’ve told us they were plannin’ this if we were still in the city?”

  Wedge stared at him in horror. “You think they would’ve really done that?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  Sometime later, when they finally found their shuttle and were able to vacate Donnor’s Drop, they both saw the destruction of the Invicta and Biggs decided they had to contact President Lee himself. Not that it was an easy call to make. There were plenty of distractions they found themselves dealing with. But that’s a story for another time.

  PRIDE COMETH BEFORE THE FALL

  TOBIN SONOROS WATCHED the plethora of vessels entering the docking bays seeking private parking hubs for whatever visitations or parties they were arriving for. He hated this season the most as it was always busier than he could ever manage to handle and help was always conveniently away for the holidays. He was just in the middle of arranging paperwork on a new arrival of a solar class pleasure yacht when he was nudged by his secretary, Gloria.

  “Sir, your brother is here to see you.”

  “Tell him I’m busy!”

  “Tell me yourself, you ungrateful little shit!”

  Tobin looked up to see Elien standing in the doorway and Gloria beating as hasty of a retreat as she possibly could muster. Tobin sighed and screwed up his face.