Lawmen- Rook and Berenger

by Matthew Kadish

  Deckland shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re wrong. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!”

  “I’ve already paid a great sum of digicredits for what I’ve done, and I imagine I’ll continue to do so as the profits from mining this system to its bones begin to roll in,” Stygaard replied. “Just because I’d prefer not to kill you both doesn’t mean I won’t do it, and any court of law will believe me when I tell them I was justified in doing so based on your actions thus far. If you insist on trying to arrest me, Ranger, we can end this right here, and no one will care about what happened to you or your partner after I’m able to grease the proper palms and sweep it under the rug. So, I suggest you both turn around and leave, now, or I may come to the conclusion that allowing you to walk out of here is not in my best interest.”

  “But those children—”

  “Are no concern of mine!” snapped Stygaard. “My only concern is building a Legacy that will endure for generations. One which will elevate the Stygaard name for all of time. Legacies have been built off the lives of peasants for millennia. What do the deaths of a handful of children nobody cares about matter in the grand scheme of things?”

  “The grand scheme of things?” Deckland said, indignantly, as he stepped forward to confront Stygaard. “No one ever gets to kill twelve children and walk away.”

  “This is the Frontier, Ranger,” Stygaard replied. “The old rules don’t apply out here. Especially to men like me.”

  Deckland looked at Stygaard, his eyes wide with disbelief. He felt a cold chill travel up his spine as his stomach felt like a ball of lead had formed within it. Stygaard returned Deckland’s gaze with a knowing smile as the realization that Deckland was powerless to do anything to bring him to justice settled in on the Ranger.

  “Now, off with you,” Stygaard said. “I have a system to rule, and the two of you have charges to answer for back on Barnholm.”

  Deckland set his jaw, his head bowing slightly as defeat settled in on him. He turned and began to make his way to the office’s exit, but stopped next to Berenger, whose hard gaze hadn’t left Stygaard or his men. Deckland hesitated for a moment – only for a moment – before speaking to his partner.

  “You told me when we first met that if I ever figured out how things needed to work around here to give you a heads up.”

  “I did,” Berenger replied.

  Deckland looked Berenger in the eyes, his face hard with steely resolve.

  “Heads up,” he said.

  Berenger gave Deckland a hint of a smile and nodded.

  Within the next instant, both men made their moves.

  Berenger drew his blasters, his bionic eye targeting the two Pink Sun security personnel as he opened fire.

  Deckland spun, pulling his sidearm just as quickly, aiming directly for Stygaard…

  And shooting him right between the eyes.

  The exchange was over in an instant. The two Pink Sun soldiers dropped to the floor, their wounds still smoking from where Berenger had hit them. Stygaard swayed slightly where he stood, as though his body hadn’t quite figured out how dead he was, before collapsing to the ground.

  Wisps of ozone wafted from the muzzles of the Rangers’ blasters as they slowly lowered their weapons, returning them to their holsters. The two men surveyed the scene before making their way around to check the bodies, both ending up standing over Stygaard as the man’s corpse gazed blankly back up at them. Berenger glanced over at Deckland, who regarded the man he’d shot with a troubled frown.

  “It was the right call,” Berenger assured him.

  “It was justice,” Deckland replied before looking up to meet Berenger’s gaze. “Even if it wasn’t exactly legal.”

  Berenger smiled at that. “Well, well, well,” he drawled. “There may be hope for you yet… Lawman.”

  Chapter 20

  Deckland sat behind a large conference table inside the Grand Hall of the Judiciary back on Barnholm. Before him hovered a camera orb, and behind that sat Roothford Templeton, the Imperial Prosecutor who was overseeing the debriefing. He was an older man with silver hair slicked back on his head and extremely bushy muttonchops that would have made him appear ridiculous had it not been for the stern look upon his face.

  Cornwallace stood against the wall behind Templeton, next to the golden eye-within-an-eye crest of the Regalus Empire that hung there. Ormosa was present, as well, the Endolan sitting back quietly observing Deckland as Templeton continued with his questioning.

  “Just so I’m clear,” said Templeton as he glanced down at his datapad to review his notes. “It is your official report that the kidnappings that occurred on twelve space platforms, the killings that occurred on waystation WS-4855, and the incident that took place on Sarjana in the Alpha Renway system that resulted in the death of Governor Sylas Stygaard were all perpetuated by the Pink Sun Corporation and its employees?”

  “That is correct,” stated Deckland.

  “And that you believe the purpose for their actions was in service to a child slavery ring that a criminal organization hired them to establish?”

  “That is my theory, yes.”

  “And you also swear that Governor Stygaard was unaware of any wrong-doing on the part of his Pink Sun security force, and that they killed him, Peacekeeper Chief James Moreland, and attempted to kill you and Ranger Berenger when they were confronted with the possibility of arrest.”

  Deckland hesitated for a moment before committing to the lie.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Templeton sighed and glanced over toward Ormosa, who returned his look. Cornwallace took out his pipe and lit it, puffing on the lowbacco within as he listened with disinterest concerning the exchange.

  “Did you ever establish who was directly responsible for the death of Roseca Villem?” Templeton asked.

  “No,” Deckland said. “We believe Dulph Krytaar and his men killed her when she was attempting to escape their captivity, but we could not find any proof as to the party directly responsible. Chances are whoever it was is now dead, though.”

  That much, at least, Deckland knew to be true.

  Templeton nodded as he made a few final notes on his datapad. “Thank you for your report, Ranger Prescott,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

  Deckland nodded and got to his feet. As Deckland moved around the table to exit, Cornwallace opened the door, revealing Berenger was waiting out in the hallway, smoking a cigar. Cornwallace escorted Deckland out to meet with him.

  “Hell of a case to send you boys on for your first outing,” Cornwallace said.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Berenger replied.

  “Obviously,” the Director responded. “As far as you two are concerned, this case is closed. Any further investigation into the matter will be handled by the Imperial Prosecution Service.”

  Deckland and Berenger both nodded. “Think there’s any reason for them to dive in further?” Berenger asked.

  “I doubt it,” Cornwallace answered. “You know how these things go. The Pink Sun Corporation will be investigated, they’ll cooperate and claim the company had no knowledge of what was going on and that the criminal endeavor was perpetuated by a few bad actors. They’ll get slapped around, pay a fine, then proceed with business as usual. The IPS will then try to track down the person who employed them for this endeavor, won’t find them, and will consider the matter closed until new evidence can surface.”

  Cornwallace puffed on his pipe, thoughtfully eyeing the two Rangers.

  “It’s a shame, really,” he said. “Those who kill children are true scum in my book. The ones who do it deserve to be punished. Severely.”

  “Rest assured, boss,” Berenger drawled. “They were.”

  Cornwallace glanced at Deckland, who nodded. The Corkron smiled as he nodded toward Berenger.

  “Excellent work, Huck.”

  “Thanks, Cornwallace,” Berenger replied.

  “You too, Rook,” Cornwallace said as he
patted Deckland on the shoulder before turning to go back into the conference room.

  “That’s not my… nevermind,” Deckland grumbled.

  Once Cornwallace had closed the door, the two Rangers shared a moment of silence as Berenger took a drag from his cigar.

  “I take it you told them what they wanted to hear?” Berenger said.

  “Just like we discussed. Our stories will line up,” Deckland responded.

  Berenger rolled the cigar between his fingers, thoughtfully. “And misreporting the truth won’t offend your delicate sensibilities?”

  Deckland smirked. “Just because I hold myself to a higher standard does not mean I’m stupid,” he said. “Without proof of what really happened, this was the only outcome that ensures the guilty are punished, blame is properly assigned, and you and I are protected from any backlash. I am, however, concerned that the IPS may churn up some facts that could cast doubt on our account of what occurred.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, none,” Berenger replied. “The men in that there room, despite their titles and status, know how things need to work around here. Chances are that Templeton fella knows our reports are a load of bova spunk, but he’s smart enough to look the other way.”

  “I don’t know whether to be comforted by that, or concerned,” Deckland said.

  Berenger smiled and chomped back down on his cigar. “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said. “I don’t care to hang out in government offices for too long of periods, and these debriefings have been mighty long.”

  Deckland fell in beside Berenger as the two men walked, their boots clicking on the granite floor of the hallway as they joined in with the foot traffic of lawyers, robots, clerks, and other employees who worked in the building. As they walked, Deckland looked over at Berenger, a curious expression on his face.

  “Why’d the Director call you ‘Huck’?” Deckland asked.

  “It’s a nickname,” Berenger said. “He’s been calling me that since I marched into his office when he was Sheriff of Landfall and demanded he make me a deputy.”

  “But why ‘Huck’?”

  “It’s short for huckleberry.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Huckleberries grow in the wild here on Barnholm,” Berenger said. “They’re pretty little plants – green with red and blue berries on them. Somewhere along the way, it became customary for girls to give huckleberry plants to boys they fancied. If a fella said, ‘I’m your huckleberry’, it meant, ‘I’m your man’. When I joined up with the posse to track down the outlaws who killed my parents, and we finally had the gang cornered, one of the Blackdagger Brothers by the name of Cutthroat Creed stepped forward and asked ‘Which one of you dirty sons of bovas has the stones to take the first shot?’ At which point I said ‘I’m your huckleberry’ right before I blasted him between the eyes. After that, the name kind of stuck.”

  “But Kerpatrick’s the only person I’ve ever heard call you that.”

  “That’s because he still likes to give me a hard time, even after all these years,” Berenger replied. “Throughout the course of my career, I’ve earned my name, but to Cornwallace, I’ll always be that teenaged wet-nosed greenhorn who mouthed off to one of the most dangerous outlaws in the territory by telling him ‘I’m your man’ before starting a gunfight.”

  “Did it bother you being called that?”

  “Extremely. Which is why I worked so hard to earn my spurs on this job. But I don’t mind when Cornwallace calls me it. We’ve been through so much together, it’d feel weird if he ever started calling me by my actual name.”

  Berenger then pointed at Deckland.

  “But don’t be getting any ideas in that hollow head of yours,” Berenger warned. “You call me ‘Huck’ even in jest and I’ll shoot your jimmies off. Comprende?”

  Deckland chuckled and nodded. “Comprende,” he replied.

  As the two Rangers reached the exit of the building, they stopped and turned to one another.

  “Well, the case is over,” Berenger said. “I suppose you’ll be putting in for a new partner, now.”

  “That was the plan,” Deckland said. “But it’s not anymore.”

  Berenger regarded Deckland with a hint of surprise. “Why not?” he asked. “Thought you and me were never gonna work?”

  “You still believe that, even after all we’ve just been through?”

  “Well, if’n I’m being honest, I never really believed it,” Berenger replied. “I had me a feeling you’d come around to my way of thinking… eventually.”

  “I will admit, I was wrong to believe that things should be so cut-and-dry on this job,” Deckland acquiesced. “And after seeing you in action, I can honestly say that your reputation as an investigator and an officer of the law are well deserved. I think there’s a lot I can learn from you, Berenger.”

  Berenger smiled, looking somewhat pleasantly surprised at Deckland’s statement. “Is that so?” he asked.

  “It is,” answered Deckland. “But I think there’s still a lot you can learn, as well.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’ve come to accept that we are both right in our beliefs,” Deckland stated. “You were right that things do indeed work differently out here in the Frontier, and that if we’re going to do our job, we need to adjust to the reality of our environment. But I’m right, as well. The future of the Frontier must be based on law and order. And on civilization. Because people think they can break the rules out here, it makes it that much more important that there are people around to enforce those rules. And because it is our job to enforce them, we must also abide by them. We may not be able to do that right away, but that has to be the goal we strive to achieve, otherwise nothing out here is ever going to change. So, my question to you, partner, is can you accept that premise going forward and meet me somewhere in the middle?”

  Berenger mulled over Deckland’s words. “Halfway is better than no way, eh?” he replied.

  “Something like that.”

  Berenger shook his head. “I don’t know. Can’t always teach an old Lampak new tricks. I’m a stubborn old coot. I may never change.”

  “If I can change, so can you,” responded Deckland. “But don’t think just because I made the call I did back on Sarjana that I’m always going to go along with you being a loose cannon. From here on out, we hold ourselves to a higher standard. If we want the Galactic Rangers to mean something, we need to start doing things by the book.”

  “And if the book don’t work?”

  “Then, we add some new pages to it. Just like we did on this last case.”

  Berenger was quiet for a moment. “Sure this is what you want?” he asked. “I can say I’ll try to change, but I may never actually do it. And I sure as squick won’t stop calling ya ‘Rook’.”

  “Names have to be earned, don’t they?” Deckland responded. “Besides, I can think of a lot worse things to be called than ‘Rook’.”

  Berenger smiled and gave Deckland a pat on the shoulder. “So can I, partner. So can I.”

  “Does this mean you agree to my terms?”

  Berenger sighed before shrugging his shoulders. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll give it a try. Who knows? You may be right. Rules shouldn’t be broken.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But they sure as squick can be bent, can’t they?”

  Deckland smiled. “Well, well, well. There may be hope for you yet, Lawman.”

  As the two men shared a laugh while exiting the building together, up in the conference room where they’d been interviewed, Templeton was finishing downloading their sworn statements onto his datapad and packing up his briefcase.

  “Your boys really stepped in it with this one,” the prosecutor grumbled. “Twelve dead children, a shootout on a space station, a shootout in the middle of an Imperial colony, the death of a candidate for a system Legacy, and a story with more holes in it than Greedish cheese.”

  Templeton slammed his briefcase
shut, obviously not happy. Ormosa eyed him, calmly. “How do you plan on handling this?” Ormosa inquired.

  “How else can I handle it?” Templeton replied. “I’m going to go after the Pink Sun Corporation and hope to get enough out of them to compensate the victims’ families, all the while praying no lawyer in this quadrant looks too closely at what actually may have occurred here. Luckily, we have witnesses from the Skinny Plains colony that saw a Pink Sun soldier kill the Chief Peacekeeper, and the Pink Sun Corporation will no doubt want this to go away quickly. But if there is any further scrutiny regarding this case—”

  “Nothing will come of it,” Cornwallace said. “We’ll give our boys all the cover they need. And frankly, there are no more leads to follow with this investigation, so if anyone does try to dig into it, they won’t find anything.”

  “I hope to the Great Observer you are right, Cornwallace,” Templeton said as he gathered his things. “Stygaard was a powerful and influential man who spread a lot of digicredits to the right people back in the core worlds. His death will draw notice.”

  “Stygaard Industries will weather his death, of that I have no doubt,” Ormosa assured Templeton. “I’m sure they’re already trying to figure out who they’ll put up for Legacy status now that he’s gone. Both his company and the Alpha Renway system will continue on, as will all the bribes and donations they’ve been feeding back to the Imperial councils. Worse comes to worst, the other members of this New Frontier Conglomeration will absorb Stygaard Industries and will carry on with its goals.”

  “Not to mention I’m sure a man such as Stygaard had enough equally powerful and influential enemies that don’t mind him being gone,” Cornwallace offered.

  “For all our sakes, let’s pray that is indeed the case,” Templeton said, heading for the door and leaving without a goodbye.