By David C. Daoust
Raymond was a grim man, he knew it. He was known for it. More, he was a grim thug of a man and he knew that too.
Raymond had spent most of his days since being ‘appointed’, standing on a holostage, meeting with officials throughout the UM; separate moons, separate cities. All to get up to code with how these things were meant to be run.
The series of questions, he was forced to endure by this myriad of unusual people, was beyond compare. They were all overly smart, overly smug, overly eager to see their vision become a reality. Raymond was more than ready to play along, all to see his own vision become a reality. Admittedly, his vision involved his family walking scot-free from the raid on Twin Crown…
Who were these people? The speakers of the UM, arguers, orators, visionaries- mostly just lawyers… Whatever you might want to call ‘em- they were the people behind the United Moons; behind the procedures and proposed laws of the land. The very laws and procedures that Raymond had helped bring to Twin Crown. And really, what may eventually become a Federal Constitution. That is, if the Fifty-first Republic had anything to say about it. Yet, they were currently just a pile of ‘articles’, some completely contradictory to each other…
The Articles of Bull Shit, is what Raymond thought they should be called.
Raymond knew that a bag full of beads was not going to cut water with the people of the UM, but some of these procedures… Articles of Bull Shit, indeed!
Once again, he was forced to recount the actions that led him here.
‘A day like any other,’ he thought sarcastically, ‘head out to perform a simple heist, end up a Judge of a Newly Independent Moon.’
Grady, apparently, did not have many lawyers. No one was surprised, considering most council was as spread out, throughout the Onion, as the holographic Courtrooms they appeared in… Then again, maybe lawyers just weren’t susceptible to the promises of the Chantry?
Now that Twin Crown had severed all ties from the confederacy, Ray doubted it would be lawful for them to argue in the newly organized court circuits proposed by the UM. At least, not without also leaving the Confederation.
Raymond was not alone. Twin Crown was a hodge-podge collection of all the wrong people trying to carry off jobs they never truly saw themselves filling. Some of them, downright scary- even to the thug, Raymond Haul.
Namely, Henry Bogs, the seemingly ever-present toady of the former community leader/murder victim, Emanuel H. Grady. The tele-minister who miraculously survived said murder, all thanks to being left for dead in a medical bed and forgotten about by, pretty much, everybody.
Emanuel was now the strongest proponent for Henry taking up the newly founded governorship of the moon.
Raymond found it unbelievable- being propped up, entirely, by his former victim.
Emanuel had called upon the community to forgive the man his misdeed, as he had done himself, and had pushed them into accepting his leadership. It was not beyond Ray that this man, Henry Bogs, would do anything Emanuel Grady asked of him.
Henry Bogs was now ‘Interim Governor Bogs’, and it looked, at least for the moment, that he was a shoe in for the job come election. Raymond could only hope someone else stepped up to run against him. First Wave, however, had not found much motivation to get any more involved than what they had already, with their vote. Most were still wandering out there through the desert, living their own lives. Some still brought in food, as they had since the raid left Grady in the lurch.
With Gov. Bogs, it would be the same as Emanuel being in charge. The Grady settlement once lived off the corporations- now, it was going to be all about trade with the other moons of the UM. Most the other moons were largely farmlands- the food was there, by comparison, they were rich. Especially if they could rest the entire moon from the confederate’s grip. Twin Crown, however, did not offer much more than their example of succession. A succession that had thus far gone unchallenged.
Judge Haul certainly had his plate full. He’d thought, somehow, he may be able to use his new position, to help find those that have gone missing. At the time, it was just his sister In-law Mari and his nephew Craiden, and not to say he was not worried about them, but now his youngest son had vanished into the dunes with the Blue’s entire Crawler. He knew his son could run a crawler just fine. Ratchet’ld be safe anywhere on the moon, as long as he had that crawler; It was pretty much a spaceship on wheels. But there was also news of Battle Drones appearing in the desert. Ray could not help but wonder if it was just more BS, or maybe Craiden was out there somewhere, still raising his own version of justice.
Word had reached him of the Sheriff’s return, along with his father and his eldest son Charles. At least he knew some of them were safe, was the very thought that crossed his mind, just as he heard the gunshot ring-out from somewhere within the Starport…
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