Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 3

Part 3

The Battle of Wallach

Jude was losing the use of her arms, and yet the wire noose was still tightening.  She could even feel her eyes rolling back into her head.  She had thought people were dead by the time they reached this point, but she continued to hold on a few more moments.

All along, she heard the distant booming growing closer.  It seemed as though she could see billowing red explosions out of the corner of her eye, but that could just be the blood building up in her eyes; the sight of death tightening its grip on her.

Then an enormous blast exploded right next to her and she felt her body swing away from it.  Chunks of iron and cement knocked against her, and she felt herself falling.  The wire had snapped and she was tumbling toward the ground, but the noose was still tight around her neck.  She managed to land on her feet, but without much use of her muscles, she tumbled out of control, rolling end over end, every limb hitting the ground like it was being smacked with an iron bat.  She was pummeled mercilessly by debris, as if being shot with pellets, then smacked with a rough-hewn club.

By the time she came to a stop, it felt like she had been beaten half to death, and her skin had been scraped with claws.  Debris continued to rain down on her, but her first priority had to be to get the noose off her neck.  It had loosened just enough for blood to pump into her arms, but she still couldn’t breathe.  She stabbed her fingernails between her neck and the wire and pried it loose.  As it came off, a rush of air filled her lungs.  Like water pouring into a tub, she felt power returning to every inch of her body.

She also felt the pain more thoroughly.  Jude had a bionic resistance which had gotten her through vicious tortures, but this agony overwhelmed even those measures.It felt like a couple of her limbs were broken, as well as several bones in her torso, but she knew that at least her legs were intact because she could get to her feet.

Just as she did, she was beamed in the head with a metal fragment that sent her to the ground again, causing her to cut her lip and scratch up her hands.  Jude wanted to lay there and be buried under the building pieces.  At least they’d stop the feeling of every bit that landed on her.

But Jude knew that she had to move.  If the building didn’t crush her, and the explosions didn’t reach her, Dillon, if he survived, would catch her; and this time he’d just shoot her.  Rising to her feet, she looked around.  Already, several buildings had open faces where their walls had been stripped away by explosions.  The streets were filled with rubble, the air filled with choking smoke, and fighter craft and missiles could be heard roaring overhead.  She didn't know what factions were battling it out, but none of them were on her side.

Jude ran in the first direction she saw that led under a roof.As she did she took measure of which of her enhancements stillfunctioned andwhichdidnot.  Her legs wobbled, but kept her stumbling forward.  If it wasn’t for her cybernetics, she’d be crippled.  Her arms were weakened, but still worked, and the mechanisms in her fingers and forearm still worked.  That meant her holdout pistol was able to pop out of her wrist into her hand.  She’d have to test the bionic additions in her fingernails to see if they were still functional, but they felt okay.  As for her torso and head, she would just have to deal with the aches in them and keep her oxygen pumping to fuel what she needed.

The shaking ground and the trembling walls didn’t help, and Jude had to navigate across an open room like she was on a ship in roiling waves.  Nevertheless, she was still able to find her way through a door and down a corridor.  The screams of panicking civilians was deafening as they passed from room to room.  A series of booms resounded and a third of the roof collapsed, crushing some of the passersby.

Jude tried to take advantage of this by leaping through one of the holes.  Though the cybernetics in her legs were keeping her moving, the damage in the springs prevented the giant leap she typically counted on.  The result was her arcing through the air into a wall that seemed to punch back as it shook from another explosion.

She could feel the blood from her nose dripping onto the growing lumps on her lips.  The smoke-filled room now seemed to be keeling ninety degrees one way, then the other.  The blurred vision reminded her that she had an option to see better, so she blinked to bring up the infrared lens.  Targets appeared on all of the civilians.  She blinked again and it swapped to seeing radio waves.  She blinked again and it stayed on radio waves.  She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them they switched to the infrared.

All around her was panic and chaos.  Outside, soldiers and drones were crossing in different directions, firing and dying.  Inside, people were taking cover and saving one another from the rubble.  Only one figure was breaking this pattern; a compact figure who was up one level and past a couple walls, weaving in her direction.  Dillon.

On most days, Jude would be prepared to crush the likes of that weasel.  Most days, but not today.  Today it was time to run.

Jude headed for the outside, despite the battling armies.  She took a couple steps into the street before a rattle of shots in front of her feet caused her to retreat back to cover.  Looking both ways, Jude found that she was between enemy lines, caught in a crossfire.  Neither one seemed concerned about hitting a noncombatant, and the one on her right seemed to be actively aiming at anyone who wasn’t wearing their uniform.

Jude pointed a finger of her right hand in the direction of the more aggressive army, and a finger of the other hand toward the street.  She squeezed the right finger first and a holographic projection of her appeared on the sidewalk charging the trigger-happy soldiers.  She squeezed her other finger and… a few whiffs of mist puffed out.  There would be no smoke screen for her crossing.

Regardless, it was now or never.  Soldiers were shooting at her hologram, and it wouldn’t take long for them to realize they were hitting her without consequence.  So Jude dashed across the street as fast as she could, laser blasts whizzing by in both directions.  She made it through a door and continued moving.  This building was not as badly damaged, but the walls were rattling from the constant stress of the battle around it.  This had been one of the more makeshift colonies that had gone up fast during a franchise’s rapid expansion.  The buildings weren’t meant to resist strong storms, let alone a battle.

Jude headed toward the opposite side of the building.  She heard less fighting in that direction.  After dodging through a couple rooms, past some hiding people, she shot out a window and leaped outside to a narrow street.

She could hear machines and people moving on either side of her, but there were no explosions or laser blasts in her immediate vicinity.  Slowing for a moment, she started to feel the aches in her limbs that were building up.  Her pain resistance would be counted among her malfunctioning cybernetics.  Jude cursed at herself.  She wasn't used to being so weak.  She wasn't used to her body not being able to do whatever she willed it to do.

She still wanted more distance between herself and her hunter, so Jude began across the street, searching for another door.  A random explosion seemed to burst from the ground near her.  A stray mortar shot that happened to land in the middle of this street.  Cursing frustratedly, Jude staggered away toward an alley next to the building she had been inside.

Regrouping her strength and catching her breath, Jude blinked a couple times to get her bearings.  She felt a tear drop from the bottom as she did.  'No time for that,' she thought.  Her infrared came up and she took advantage of the opportunity to look around her.  The solid figure of Dillon was just beyond a couple walls.  She could tell it was him by his movements.  He wasn’t in formation with any of the armies, he wasn't running about panicking, and he was searching for someone.  Her.

Jude pressed up behind the cover of a dumpster and watched him.  He knew she was out here somewhere because he was heading for a side door toward her alley.  Jude decided to use this to her advantage.  With one hand she projected her image down the alley, just past the door.  The other hand held her pistol tight, ready to shoot Dillon when he turned to face her hologram.

The door swung opened and Dillon emerged.  He immediately spotted the 3D projection.  She was creeping away from him, peeking out at the street where the battle was taking place.The kicked up dirt all around helped sell the illusion.  He already had his pistols out.  He raised one slowly and took careful aim.

Jude took careful aim as well.  She had only one chance at the surprise, and she wouldn’t stand a chance in a firefight in her current condition; so she took a few moments to steady her hand from its shaking.

Dillon swung one hand back and fired, perfectly hitting the gun and knocking it out of Jude's hand.  The explosion of the pistol ran shockwaves down her arm and she fell back with a shriek.

Unarmed and helpless, she lay on the dusty ground as Dillon slowly approached.  Chuckling, he said, “Still using the projection trick, huh?  Aren’t you cute?”

Jude continued to writhe on the ground, dirt collecting in her wounds, and gathering in her red and brown hair.  She was taking stock of what still worked, and was finding little that did.

“What?  No snarky comeback, Red?  That’s new,” Dillon mocked, using the nickname she had had in the group when they had known each other.

Jude’s arm jolted uncontrollably.  Her back arched unnaturally and a pain shot up her spine.  Her cybernetics were malfunctioning and causing her muscles to spasm.

“Ooo, that views painful.  Too bad,” Dillon said.  “I raise you wish I’d kill you to end the pain.  But I’m not going to do you that favor.”  He snapped binders around one wrist and waited for the other to stop twitching.

Jude swiped at his leg with the free hand in a last ditch effort to free herself.  He easily dodged the blow and nabbed the offending hand, twisting it behind her back.  She screamed in pain as he pulled against its normal movement, nearly breaking the arm.

“You see, Jude, I’m going to sell you.  There’s got to be somewhere you’re wanted where I don’t warrant a bounty.  And if not, there are plenty of no wagers who would love to have an indentured servant with a face as pretty as yours.”

Jude spat blood at him.  Her face was covered in lumps.  “Well,” Dillon added, “I’m abso that’ll heal in time for your execution or your purchase.  Now get moving.”

Dillon pushed Jude along.  She had little choice but to stumble forward.  Lying down would only cause him to beat her, and she wanted to retain whatever strength she had left to run when the opportunity presented itself.  The battle was still raging all around them, after all.

Her eyesight was anything but clear.  Her vision glitched like a view screen trying to get reception.  She felt Dillon’s foot kick her forward several times as they moved back down the alley, through a small building, past a dead medic… Jude turned to inspect the late doctor’s supplies, but a jolt from a low power setting on Dillon’s pistol discouraged her.

Jude tumbled forward, losing her balance more and more rapidly, until finally one of Dillon’s kicks knocked her to the ground.  She was breathing heavily, and a first attempt to get back up failed.  Dillon rolled her over.  The pathetic look on her face revealed she might be spent.

“Fes,” Dillon sighed.  “Maybe I’m going to have to settle with revenge.”  He adjusted the setting on the pistol to a higher, lethal amount.  “Last chance to get on your feet, Red.”

Jude earnestly tried.  She knew he would shoot her dead right there in the middle of the street, and she’d be all out of options.  But she simply didn’t have it in her.  What little movement she was capable of was undermined by her malfunctioning cybernetics.  She faced her attacker apathetically.  Somewhere in the distance, another loud booming was growing in volume.

Dillon couldn’t help but feel just a little moved for Jude.  It didn’t change what he was about to do, but he did feel a little bad about it.  He raised his pistol…

And fate once again intervened in favor of Jude; this time in the form of a smashed up space ship careening through one of the buildings onto their street.  Dillon instinctively pulled Jude out of the middle of the road and they hid from debris behind a post.

The vessel fell apart as it tumbled, shedding debris into buildings.  Its pilot rolled to a stop not far from the pair who were taking cover.  The rest of the wreckage disintegrated into a heap.

Dillon’s ever watchful eye for valuables noticed among the wreckage some pieces of debris made of precious metals.  He approached them, appraising their remains by sight.  This was not a military ship, this was a treasure hunting vessel!

Dillon found that he had wandered near the body of the pilot.  The man’s facemask was split open like a cracked egg and his face beneath was banged up and half-scorched.  Then his eyes shot open.  Dillon almost fell backward.  That had to be some tough armor the man was wearing to keep himself alive.  It was probably worth a fortune.  He would have to be sure to take it after the pilot finally died.

Dillon turned back toward his prisoner.  She wasn’t going anywhere, and he needed to finish her off before she did.  Then the gasping voice of the man spoke.  “Help me,” he said.  Dillon did not react.  “You there, help me,” the man insisted before he tumbled into a coughing fit.  Dillon had clearly heard the man, but he continued forward.  Then the man said, “Help me and I’ll… I’lltell you where… you can find the… the treasure ofthe Mandrake Leonne.”

Now Dillon acknowledged the man.  He hurried back to him and said, “What do you know about it?  Was that what you were hunting next?  You have a map or something?”

The man muttered incoherently.  It came out like ‘Ocsasm.’

“You needs speak up, friend.  I can’t comprend you,” Dillon said.

The man quieted, smirked slightly and said, “I wasn’t born yesterday.”  Then he drew in a deep breath and winced in pain.  Who could tell how much time he had; so Dillon told him to hang on, and he ran back to the room where he had passed the body of a doctor.

More debris had piled up that Dillon had to climb over and pull aside before he came upon the boxes of medical supplies.  Dillon didn’t know what any of them did or how to use them, but he guessed that he could figure them out when he returned to the wreckage with them.

Balancing the briefcases and boxes in his hands and under his arms, Dillon stumbled out the door to the street.  There he spotted Jude lying next to the man.  His head was pointed toward her, and she was listening to something he was saying.  “Stay away from him!” Dillon shouted as he threw one of the boxes at her.  Jude ignored him and continued to listen to the dying man.

Dillon rushed them, throwing another small container as he did.  This time she reacted by turning her head slowly toward him with an expression of annoyance.  Dillon arrived and shoved Jude out of the way.  He yanked the man’s head toward him and looked into his helmet.  The pilot's face was ashen and his eyelids sagged over still pupils.  He was dead.  “What did he say?” Dillon asked.  Jude didn’t respond, so Dillon grabbed her and shook her violently.  “What did he say?”

Jude smirked through her dazed expression.  Somehow the bruising and lumps made her appearmore smug.  Dillon pulled his pistol and shoved it in her face.  “If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll kill you,” he said.

“But then you’ll never know where the Treasure of the Mandrake Leonne is,” she said.  And then, having spent the last of her energy, she slumped in his hands.

“No.  Don’t die on me, Red,” Dillon said.  “Don’t die.  We’re gonna find this thing togeth... Here.  How do we use this stuff?”  Dillon dropped Jude and scavenged through the medical containers.  His search would be in vain as he had no understanding of any of it, but Jude continued breathing.

To be continued...

Wanted, Foul, and Worthy - Part 1

Part 1

The Wanted, the Foul, & the Worthy

Wanted

The wind whispered softly down the long, dusty street.  Flecks of sand hitchhiked in the air and dispersed left and right, as though getting clear of the three strangers staring one another down.  Two were on one end, one was on the other.

They watched each other closely, none prepared to move.  The man and woman on one end were waiting for the signal from the figure on the other.  They had never seen this person up close, and knew nothing about him or her; just that he or she or it would be there at this time.

This was a nearly deserted colony.  Once a thriving mining settlement for the Somano Corporation, it had sucked its query dry and now its citizens had moved on to other locations on the planet or transferred to new mines off-world.  Those left behind were people who refused to move on and individuals who didn’t want to be found.

The figure on one end began walking forward and the other two followed suit.  The rhythm of their steps matched in the crunching dirt beneath their feet.  Their silhouettes grew as they neared until the details of their clothing and faces took shape.  The lone figure was a grizzled man, the kind you would expect on a bounty like this.

Peeking faces had spied them from a few windows, but the body language of the three individuals had warned no one to interfere, so the street remained empty.

They stopped before the door of a depressed cantina.  A perky sign with lively font described a once hopping meeting ground, but it was now a mostly empty hulk.  The lone man pulled a disk from his pocket and held it before him.  A holographic head appeared above it, revealing the face of their target.  The other two nodded.

They all drew their guns.  When the lone man nodded, they rushed inside.

A flurry of gunfire emerged.  It began immediately upon entry, as though they saw their target immediately, or it had been waiting for them.

As quickly as it had started, it had ended, and there was silence for a moment… but only a moment.  The window crashed open and a new man rolled out.  His foot caught on the bottom frame and he tumbled to the ground, rolling into the dusty street.

Quickly he got his footing again and rose up, hot pistol in one hand, the other clutching an ivory hewn item in the other.  It was an artifact of significant value he had looted fair and square.  Maybe it was from an ancient site located on a planet claimed by one of the more powerful corporations, but he had taken great pains to steal it; and it was therefore his by right of skill if not might.

This was Dillon, and he knew it was time to leave this rock before more bounty hunters showed up to reclaim his prizes and serve his head to their masters.  He took one look at the door to make sure they weren’t coming out, then turned and dashed down the long road toward one of their hoverautos.  He would hotwire theirs to get to his ship hiding in a cave in the desert.  He didn’t trust the old landing pads; they were too large a target.

The lone gunman that had led the assault on Dillon emerged from the building.  He was staggering, barely able to move.  Blood was leaking from his lips, but he had one last shot in him.  He took it, but the shot went wild.  Yet another in many misses to take down the infamous criminal.

Foul

The mansion stood atop the crest of the tall hill where marble rocks covered in moss and low trees rippled down to the wavering sea.  In the distance, streams of the emerald aurora borealis drifted lazily on the horizon while the soft light reflection of two moons evenly illuminated everything.

A single road led out of the walled-in, private estate, watched over by guards, cameras, and robotic security equipment.  Even the waterway approaches were protected in case of an unexpected amphibious attack.

The family who lived there was not used to such precautions; nor were they prepared for the sudden lavish lifestyle of privilege.  Though they appreciated the resources it brought, they found it lonely and isolating.  And most of all, the heightened security scared them.

Only Mauren, the father, understood fully the necessity of it all.  He had told the others it was to protect them from the poor of the planet who wanted to take their home from them, but the precautions were really a result of how he acquired the wealth.

He was presently enjoying that wealth by lounging in his hot tub, one of the water jets massaging his back.  He felt the cool breeze blowing against his hair as it contrasted with the heat soothing his body.  He took a sip of his drink and enjoyed the moment he had worked so hard to achieve.  This was the life.

Then he remembered, he hadn’t opened the window.

Mauren twisted quickly and reached for his towel, splashing a tsunami of water out of the tub.  As he turned, he found himself facing a well-dressed man with a sharp chin and a clean cut face leaning against a wall.  It was Nikos Kazakis, the man Mauren least wanted to see; the one man his security force was hired to keep out.

Nikos didn’t flinch at the man’s sudden movement.  In fact, he seemed pleased by it.  “Hello, Mauren,” he said.

“How did you get past my security?” Mauren asked.

“That’s the thing about security guards,” Nikos said.  “They go hither and yawn based on money, and I have more.”  A silence followed, during which time Mauren remained still, frozen in the pose reaching for his towel.  “Speaking of Electros,” Nikos said, wandering from the wall to a chair where he placed one foot, “where did you sell the piece you stole from me?  Looks like they paid you a might bit of plastic for it.”

Nikos had exposed a part of his hip that had been covered by his jacket, revealing a holstered, ivory handled pistol with gold trim.  Mauren couldn’t take his eyes off it.  This could be his doom.  Nikos made a clicking sound with his tongue and said, “Hey Mr. Lookie Lou, my eyes are up here.”

Breathing heavily, Mauren stared into Nikos’s eyes.  “I sold it to Flur Corp.  They offered more than I could refuse.  You’d have done the sa…”

Nikos clicked his tongue.  “Now Mauren, you know I can’t get to them.  They’re part of the Navarus Empire; and their spirits are about as blinged with me as mine are with you right now.”  This was the most frightening thing of all for him to say, for Navarus had a death warrant out for Nikos, and if he had a family, they’d be hunting them, too.

“My family had nothing to do with this…” Mauren tried to say.  Nikos only shushed him, and one of his hands moved closer to his pistol.  Then Mauren said, “Yes, I am a con artist who attaches himself to treasure hunting expeditions, as much as you are a looter of ancient relics.”  Nikos straightened slightly; both offended and a little proud.  His hand got closer to his gun.  Mauren continued, “I'm good at it, too.  One of the best.  That's why I know about another score, far better than that worthless piece of junk I took from you."

"Careful," Nikos said.  "That worthless piece of junk got your family this fine mansion."

"They call it the Mandrake Leonne.  It's supposed to be worth millions."

"Hundreds of millions," Nikos said, recognizing the name, but skeptical of its source.

"I know which corporation has it, and I know what planet where it was last vised.  You take me with you, and I'll show you where you can pick up its trail."

"Its trail."

"That's right.  If I knew exactly where it was, don't you think I would have gotten it myself?"

"Good point."

"So I'll get dressed, and we can hypo out tonight."  Mauren stood and began drying himself off.  His out of shape form was not pleasant to Nikos's eyes, which were used to always resting on the most beautiful things.  But they kept him in their peripheral vision while Nikos took another look at some of the decor around the room.

"You coming won't be necessary," Nikos said.

"You'll need me to show you where it is," he said.  "And I'm not going to give you the location.  You'll just shoot me and moze out to find it yourself."

"No, I really don't need you to come," Nikos said.  "Your furniture and the framework of the windows and doors all come from Patchcon, even some of the more expensive items.  That implies you have some connection with them.  You have a picture of you and your wife in front of the Marricone Tower in Lavau Upon Cleef, one of Patchcon's primary distributors.  But that's not where you learned about the Mandrake Leonne.  Patchcon has several operations that stretch out into the rural reaches of the planet.  Most of them have different organizations associated with them."

"And if you want to aprend which one, you're going to work with me," Mauren said, trying one last time to bargain.

"No, I'm not.  Your bath tub is lined with a special fusion mineral that only Baulers Corporate Conglomerate manufactures.  They're working with Patchcon in one of the outposts."  Mauren was staring at Nikos dumbfounded.    "I don't know the name of the outpost, though," Nikos said.  Mauren sighed with relief.  "But I can find out," Nikos said, and he shot Mauren.

Nikos strolled about the room, looking closer at the decorations, and various photos and holo-images, making sure he had read them right.  He turned to the door, his gun raised, when he heard small feet scampering to them.

It was Mauren's 10-year-old son.  He had one of his father's guns at the ready, but he hesitated when he saw Mauren's body lying back in the tub.  Nikos fired.  The gun in the boy's hands smashed to pieces and he fell back.  Nikos kept his gun steady on the boy.  His mother was crying from somewhere downstairs.

"No shame in this, boy," Nikos said.  "Some day when you're ready, you come blick me out.  We'll settle up then."  Nikos then grabbed a couple hand photos from the desks, and showed himself out the window.

Worthy

Jude pushed her prisoner toward the exchange point.  Chained both hand and foot, he cursed her as he stumbled forward across the metal ground of the space port.  Five individuals in the haphazard uniforms of Seeorg greeted her with formal smiles.  They were unloading their ship of deliveries to the planet and making room in a cell for their new guest to stay.  Two of them were balancing a group of crates overloaded on a magno-dolly that was sinking to the port's floor, one was pulling a large animal out of the pen where they would be keeping the prisoner, one was supervising the two events, and the last one was greeting Jude with a payment pad.

As they got closer, the prisoner became more desperate.  Despite their present polite demeanor, their plans for him were less than savory, and he spat violent curses at Jude as he tried to get away.  She pressed a button on a remote which sent painful shocks through the footcuffs, then sedatives through the handcuffs.  These made him much more cooperative and he continued forward by her guidance.

"Lovely," said the man who was greeting them, his chin pressed forward and his eyes on the prisoner.  "Your work is impeccable as always, Jude."

"You always come through with payment, so I always come through with the goods," Jude said.

"You're both fecal leftovers and you'll rot in..." the prisoner jumped then relaxed as Jude hit the button.

The man with the payment pad smiled smugly.  Behind him, the man pulling the animal down the ramp began to hit it and curse his own colorful phrases.  "We verballed 50,000 for the bounty," said the man with the payment pad.

"Plus 25 large for the speed bonus."

"That's... right rip," the man said adjusting the amount on his hand device.  Behind him, the animal squealed in pain as the man beat its legs with his electro-stick.

Jude's cybernetic eyes focused on what was happening on the ramp, despite the monetary dealings in front of her and the fact that the others were about ready to lose their payload on the dolly.

"Very good.  Now if you'll simply adjust his custody settings to my settings, we can conclude our business."

"Payment first," Jude said, her focus still on the man abusing the animal.

"That's not how we handle our affairs..." the man said patronizing.

"It's how you do it with me," Jude insisted.

The man drew a deep breath, then began the payment process.

The animal wailed in pain as the man on the ramp hit it full blast with its electro-stick.  Jude saw that it struggled to stand.  Its handler made it more difficult by hitting it repeatedly, counteracting what it wanted the animal to do.

"Let the fillygeld get up so it can move!" Jude insisted.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Jude in annoyance.  The one making the payment said, "That was rude."

"It is.  He shouldn't be hurting that animal like that," Jude said.

"I mean you.  Don't speak to my employees like that."

"I speak however I dango please."

"I can attest to that," the prisoner said.  Jude hit him in the back of the head and told him to be quiet.

"Do you want to be paid?" the man with the pad said.

Jude drew in a breath and looked at the large animal struggling to its feet.  She needed this payout.  Much more time without income would mean she'd be stranded without fuel.  So she nodded.

The paymaster began the transfer.  Jude grabbed the device to transfer the prisoner from her hip bag.

"Can't say I'm gonna miss you, you dirty malfas," the prisoner said.

The one on the ramp returned to the animal.  It winced, and he began hitting it about the head.

"Okay, that's enough," she insisted, putting back the transfer device.  "You're going to let that beast go."

"You mind your own geffaren business," the man on the ramp said.  The assistant to the paymaster put his hand on his pistol, ready to draw, and the two by the dolly turned their attention on Jude.

The paymaster stopped what he was doing and eyed Jude patronizingly.  "You want your money, or do you want to make a speech.  Either way, we're leaving here with our prisoner."  The animal handler now hit the beast in the back, shocking it into moving as it howled and cried.

Jude rolled her eyes as she placed a target tag on each one of them with her bionic eyes.  "Fine," Jude said.  And she kicked the paymaster into his assistant as she drew her pistol and shot the animal handler.  The two by the dolly scrambled for their weapons as their stack of crates came tumbling down.  The assistant pushed his boss aside and shot at Jude.  She fired and her laser blast knocked his shot into the paymaster.  She then shot the assistant in the face.

One of the others managed to get his gun out and Jude received the necessary alarm in her peripheral vision, so she rolled aside.  Her cloak-skirt flowed out above her, obscuring where exactly her body was and the man's shots went wild.  Jude fired and took out her target with a single shot.  The final one took cover behind the pile of fallen crates and drew her weapon.  Jude launched herself with her cybernetic leg and flew up above the woman.  The woman at the crates tried to follow, but was not a fast enough shot.  Jude was, and she hit her square in the chest, landing right in front of the last opponent.

Others in the space port saw what was happening and were contacting the authorities, but Jude's main concern was her prisoner, who was making a break for it.  Jude strode up to the animal as she pressed the remote.  The prisoner froze, shaking in place.  Jude released the animal from its bindings and set it free.  Then she caught up to her prisoner with ease and attached her leash.  He began laughing.

"What's so funny?" Jude asked, annoyed.

"You just gave away an epic bounty," he answered.  "Now there's no reason to keep me."

"You've caused enough havoc to be wanted other places.  Now get to the ship before I decide I don't want to make anything off of you."  Jude and her prisoner hurried to her ship and got away from the klaxon noise.

To be continued...

Baseball's connection to the Civil War

There used to be a rumor that baseball was invented by General Abner Doubleday.  The story had it that he had seen games played by his men in camp during the American Civil War and he went home and wrote the rules.  This was not exactly true, but there was a grain of truth within it.  Unfortunately, once that myth was busted, the narrative switched, as it often does in this country, to the polar opposite view.  People began claiming that Doubleday had no part in the invention of baseball, which is not true either.

Baseball truly is an American sport which was developed by people across the country.  And just like those people, the sources of its rules are all immigrants, and it is a melting pot of those concepts.  Men played games like rounders, fletch catch, stick ball, cricket, and other games with a ball and a stick.  Bases could be in a square, a triangle, a diamond, or whatever layout in which the trees happened to be.  Rules often involved getting players around all the bases back to the starting location, but how it was done varied widely.

New Englanders, and especially New Yorkers, like to claim sole credit for creating the sport, but this is as much a myth as the claim that Doubleday invented it.  They did create one of the games in which baseball derived.  They even called it "base ball" written as two words, and it has a lot of familiar rules.  They even had leagues before the Civil War.  However, it was not until the integration of other rules from other areas that the game truly began to take shape to what we know today.

It was during the Civil War, when soldiers from vast sections of the United States came together in camps and interacted, that the game began to fully form.  The men wanted something to do to while away the boredom in camp.  Card playing was a major pastime; but when they wanted to move, they needed a sport that allowed them to stretch their legs.  The biggest obstacle was finding something they all knew whose rules they could agree upon.

Unlike today where we've all learned several games from television and in interconnected schools, the men of the 19th century had all grown up in vastly different cultures.  But since they all played different forms of this game with a bat, a ball, and bases, they had a basis on which to start.  Players from the different regions would explain aspects of their own games, and they would agree upon what they liked and what they didn't.  They had to do what their governments had been unable to do, compromise, to agree on the rules for everyone to play.

This process happened in the North and South.  There were a few occasions when enemies played against each other during sieges or long encampments when no fighting was happening.  This constant exchange of ideas molded the game into a more refined sport, and soldiers took it home with them when the war ended.

One of these soldiers was Abner Doubleday.  He had indeed spotted soldiers playing the game in camps, and he did write about it, including some of the rules he liked, later on.  He had a larger platform than a lot of people, so his version of it spread a lot further.  So he DID have an influence, but that is hardly inventing the game.

The truth is, baseball is the true American game, invented by America itself.

It's for this reason I became interested in writing about baseball within the Civil War in the form of my novel The American Game.  In it, enemy soldiers play a series of baseball games together before they are forced to going back to killing one another.  You can find it by clicking below:

http://www.bandwagononline.com/The-American-Game.html