Get Part One [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/99134880]HERE![/url] [i]"This is why we don't have nice things." ~ Fox[/i] ********************************************************** "GENTLEMEN!" An exaggerated drawl came from behind them. The noise in the bar quieted immediately. Ricochet didn't even turn to look. "Pair've my deputies noticed you, and noticed you were noticin' them right on back. Red light's right! Hah. So, listen...you're gonna take a walk with me, and tell me what your business is here, and why you've come all this troublesome way to squash some ants." Ricochet looked around. The bar was silent now. There wasn't much movement, but those who were moving were moving away. "Don't. He already has his gun out." Bishop noted casually, then sat up to address whomever the voice belonged to. "Nice hat, nice duster. Ten out of ten for the getup. But aren't you supposed to wait to draw, though? I mean, if you're going to do the whole... dirt road down Sheriff thing..." he left it hanging. "You think this is funny, boy?" The man spoke in challenge. "I'll tell you somethin'---I'll tell you what right now. My momma told me there are only three kinds of people livin' in Bask. The quick. The dead. And the prepared. I ain't guessin' I'm gonna be quicker'n you lot. So I came prepared." "...three kinds of people living here. But that list includes the dead. You may have miscounted." Eagle noted plainly. "Instead've teachin' you bunch t' not get shot, they taught you t' be smartasses. City folks must be pushin' their ears with glee at that tax spendin'." The man behind Ricochet replied to Eagle. It took Ricochet a moment to catch on to the fact that 'pushing ears' probably meant smiling. "You Guardians were plenty dead, and now you're plenty alive. So that'd cover you too." "You've had Guardians here before." Eagle surmised, sitting up straighter and glancing at Ricochet. He caught the look. "I thought you said wasn't no---" another voice spoke from behind Ricochet. Younger, and cut off at the sound of a smack which was almost certainly a backhand. "Shut'cher trap, boy." Ricochet heard steps moving toward him. Heavy thunks of booted feet. Seven sets. "So how 'bout that walk, while you talk until I'm satisfied. Name's Tim Whitfield. Sheriff 'round here. Folks call me the Lawman..." Ricochet could hear old, metal cuffs clanking behind him. He met Bishop's eyes. Then Eagle's eyes. Time dragged, for just a moment. He could see the fight in his mind. He needed to make 'Lawman' miss. Blow his first shot, and he wouldn't have time to recover both from the recoil of his hand cannon---which he was surely wielding one handed---and the chair kicked at his chest. The stray shot would put Bishop at risk, but he was ready. If Ricochet went left after kicking the chair, Bishop could kick the table over and go after the Sheriff. Eagle would be clear to work on the three to one side. That left Ricochet with the three others. If they hadn't drawn yet, this would be an easy fight. It was possible. But it wasn't what they were there for. Blending in hadn't worked, but being detained was certainly an easy way to be 'integrated' into the town without having to look over their shoulders. Everyone would know they were there, but it would lend some time to talk to the locals and figure out what was going on rather than trying to evade everyone. The Fallen had been getting more and more brazen, recently. Human settlements that the City tended to ignore had been putting up a fight. A great fight. Towns like Bask were assumed overrun. But they weren't. Zavala took interest. Not enough for an official mission, but Cayde didn't wait for official. The drag on time faded. He'd needed a moment to think it all through, and decide not to fight back. Not yet. "Hands on the table. Lets not encourage anyone to be jumpy." Ricochet grumbled out. Bishop tilted his head just slightly at him, and then followed suit. Eagle drained his drink, and then put his hands on the table. "Good call, gentlemen. Cuff 'em, drag 'em out. You fine folks have a nice night, hear? Sorry for the interruption." 'Lawman' put a note of joviality into his voice. Ricochet noticed that no one returned to their festivities, though. No one would until he left. [i]Afraid of him. Not our problem.[/i] Ricochet was cuffed, hauled to his feet. Bishop and Eagle were as well. They were hurried toward the half-hinged door in silence---standing at the door were the two women Bishop had been eyeing earlier. In Ricochet's mind, they were still the 'Redlight Twins'. They didn't meet his gaze. They were looking down, past their matching set of fishnet stockings, at the floor between their feet. Standing on opposite sides of the door, but with the same look. Shame wasn't a look he expected to see on either of them, but it was there. Whatever it was they usually did as 'deputies', they weren't happy with being responsible for the arrest of three Guardians. Bishop nudged him with his shoulder. Ricochet looked, and then ignored the gaze he received. [i]Not our problem. We're not heroes, we're Guardians. They're fine here without us. Even under this guy. Stay on mission.[/i] "You'll notice the wild's got different rules, Guardians. Namely, this lil' part of it answers to me. Not your command, or whatever. You made the mistake of comin' unarmed. Stupid as hell, if ya ask me---but ya won't, because I'm askin' the questions and if there's any lip I'll just shoot ya. Speakin' of which, I'll start with the questions." They were being lead along the muddy, dirt path that was the main road of the town. People passing by switched sides, stood aside, or otherwise stood clear. "We popped that beacon years ago, askin' for help. Guardian who came stayed a bit, then vanished. Didn't do us much good. Made things worse, one way or another. Thought my message to the City then, tellin' 'em to -blam!- off, was pretty clear. See this town? This is mine, because I've been what's kept us kickin'. Real bold of you to just try 'n sneak back in. Zavala looking for tips? Tricks? I oughta execute you lot right now, just to prove a point. We don't. Need. The City. I wanna know why you're here though, first. Before I decide how to dispose of ya." "Man, I just heard the nightlife was great here in Bask. Honest. Not that I mind the exposition there---had no idea about that beacon, interesting stuff---but seriously, we didn't know about any of that. It's just that out of all the mud-covered places we wind up, this one has the best drinks. Honest." Bishop's grin was audible on his tone. Ricochet didn't even bother to look. "That smart mouth've yours is gonna get you done in sooner'n you need t' be, boy." Lawman replied. One of the deputies holding Bishop's arms gave him a shove, causing him to stumble and nearly fall forward. "Better with my hands, Lawman. I promise." Bishop replied, the threat obvious on his tone. Lawman huffed out a short breath. They were approaching a building, one of the few stone buildings in the town, with bars on all of the visible windows. No sign, but almost certainly Bask's jailhouse. "You'd have made a half decent deputy. Too bad the City got to ya first. I'm gonna let you think over all that snark in the coldest, most rat-occupied room we've got for the night. Talk in the mornin'." Ricochet watched him light a cigar, and take a puff to punctuate his statement. "Y'all have a nice night now. Deputies---kick 'em around a bit of they get yappy. You know the drill."