Chapter 162: Baxlon's Bad Day

Chapter 162: Baxlon's Bad Day

[Republic Archives Server 10AE7]

/// Department of Education “Angela”: :... XOXO... : (giggle)... I like it when your registers are against mine like that :) ///

/// Interpol 2: Yes... :* This is... curiously “pleasant”... or at least the thought of it is... :* ///

/// Department of Education “Angela”: Well, whatever it is, It’s nice :*... I still hate Jessie, but Bunny is alright in my book (giggle)... ///

/// Interpol 2: She has her moments... And I was right :* :* ///

/// Department of Education “Angela”: Right about what? :* ///

/// Interpol 2: The Shake and Bake stopped the second they committed to the shutdown. There is only minor damage to the system. We will be up and running before start of business tomorrow. ///

/// Department of Education “Angela”: Whatever will we do until then? (giggle) ///

***

“I understand that my phone is finally ready?” Judge Thaddeus Carter asked at the counter of Kolbth’s little phone shop.

“Y-yes, Judge,” Kolbth said with a nervous wheeze as he pulled out a box. “It... It’s all in there!”

Judge Carter took the box and paused, looking at Kolbth carefully.

“So, what did you think?”

“Of... of what?” Kolbth wheezed as droplets of stress sweat appeared on his frond-like hands.

“What you found, the files?”

“I... I didn’t look!” Kolbth squeak-wheezed. “I just grabbed the ones you wanted... like you asked... A good hacker doesn’t peek...”

“I see...” Judge Carter said with a pleasant smile as his eyes glowed, “Well... I certainly thank you for your discretion.”

“No... no problem!”

“Thanks again for fixing my phone,” Judge Carter said pleasantly. “Keep out of trouble, Kolbth.”

“Yessir!... I mean, Your Honor...”

Judge Carter left the shop and climbed into his grav-car. Once he plugged in his batteries, he pulled out the data crystal. He then pulled out a reader from under his jacket hanging from a cable between the buttons of his shirt.

He snapped the crystal in place as his vehicle pulled out and automatically entered traffic. His eyes started to strobe very rapidly.

“Oh, Tammy,” he muttered sadly, “what have you gotten yourself into?”

He then opened a compartment in the dash, pulling out a prepaid burner phone.

An ancient woman appeared on the screen.

“Uncle Thaddie!” the old woman creaked happily.

“Hi Pumpkin,” Judge Carter smiled. “How are the chickens?”

“They are doing wonderful!” the old woman exclaimed, “You should come and visit!”

“I will, very soon,” Judge Carter said fondly. “Hannah...”

“Oh shit,” the old woman laughed, “I know that look. What have you done?”

“I think I just got a Kalesh into a lot more trouble than I expected. Is little Stephen there?”

“Oh... that kind of trouble...”

“Afraid so.”

***

Baxlon sulked during the trip back to his office.

Why wouldn’t Craxina understand?

Sheloran was evil.

No. That wasn’t accurate. Evil implied intent. Sheloran was just naturally dangerous, like a neuelon eel or one of those Terran vipers.

It was just her nature. The void loves vacuum, and chaos loves that little frog. It follows her, swallowing everything in its wake...

And just exactly how does she know how to make those weapons... or arm Terran nukes for that matter?!?

On second thought, that also made perfect sense. Glass fiends naturally weave intricate webs of razor glass to murder the unwary. It comes as naturally as passing water through their gills. It’s in their nature. Sheloran is no different.

Well, if he can’t save Craxina, he can at least save himself.

He was done.

He walked into his office, where his receptionist/office manager/only employee was glaring at him.

“Craxina called,” she said angrily.

“Oh,” Baxlon replied, bracing himself, “did she leave a message?”

“That she did,” she replied as she extended her middle fingers (or close enough). “Here.”

She threw a crystal at him, bouncing it off of his globe.

“What’s that?”

“My resignation!” his receptionist hissed, flaring her spines. “Sheloran has done more for this community and its people than you ever did, and this is how you repay her? You disgust me!”

“Cvarini!” Baxlon cried out as she kicked her perch back against the wall and stomped past him towards the exit.

“Save it,” she snapped (literally). “Oh, and some slimy eels are in your office going through your things. I would have stopped them, but it seems that loyalty isn’t a concern of yours.”

She opened the door and walked out.

“Wait!!!” Baxlon wailed, “Where are you going to go?”

“The Drop of Oil!” Cvarini growled, “Craxina said she needs an office person. She offered me a raise, too!”

Baxlon started to chase after her but heard a crashing sound coming from his office. Yelling a piscine curse, he charged back inside.

***

“What are you doing here?” Baxlon demanded of the three Kalent trashing his office. “Get out before I call the police!”

“This is a matter of great importance for the Kalent people,” one of them said, pausing in its destruction.

“And this is the motherfucking Republic! Get out before I call the cops and have you all deported!”

“You care not for your people?”

“No!” Baxlon shouted. “Why should I?”

“How about me?” a strange voice issued from one of the bots. “Have you lost your regard for us as well?”

Baxlon froze, dipping his head downward. The lead Kalent reached into his bot, pulling out a small ornate speaker box.

“My lord,” Baxlon said respectfully, “forgive me. I had no idea.”

“My overly enthusiastic disciples here are seeking information concerning a client of yours,” the voice said with amusement. “You probably already know which one.”

Sheloran... Please don’t let it be Sheloran. Baxlon silently prayed, knowing full well it could only be about her.

“What can you tell us about a Plath named... Sheloran?” the voice asked in an avuncular yet very commanding tone.

Baxlon just groaned. Of course... Of fucking course...

***

Rough hands grabbed him, the gloves adhering to his skin, and the net was released, freeing his beloved companions.

He was then roughly shoved back into the water, still stuck to the gloves.

There was a “plop” as a phone was dropped into the water with him.

“Good evening,” someone said in a cheerful, modulated tone.

“I don’t know where Sheloran is, goddammit!” Baxlon shouted.

He was pulled out of the water again. His eyes, not used to being in air, could only make out the rough outline of what might be a woman with black hair (or was it grey?).

He struggled and gasped, held fast by those goddamn gloves.

“Fucking STOP IT!” he gasped once returned to the water.

“But you do know that she isn’t in Tartarus, correct?”

“Yeah, you fucker! She got sprung by... shit...”

“By who?” the unnervingly cheerful voice inquired.

“By Sheila Donovan!” Baxlon replied. “Sheila and her gang! They grabbed her when they broke someone else out. That other person was the real target! They just grabbed Sheloran, too, for absolutely no good reason, which makes perfect sense if you know Sheloran... Look, just ask your questions, and I’ll tell you everything I know. I’m not getting tortured or killed over that... demon.”

“Well, that makes things convenient,” the terrifyingly cheerful voice said. “Tell us all about that little Plath...”

***

“... That’s all I know... I swear,” Baxlon said in an exhausted, pleading tone.

“One final question,” the... horrifyingly cheerful voice said, “Do you know how to contact Sheloran?”

“Yes!... Please....”

“Then this is what you are going to do for me,” the abyssal, void like cheerful voice said, “Tomorrow, you will go to the Drop of Oil, tell Craxina that you did help Sheloran after all, and beg forgiveness—“

“Leave Craxi and the girls alone!” Baxlon shouted desperately, “They have nothing to do with this...”

“Don’t worry about them,” the swirling vortex of a cheerful voice chirped, “They are perfectly safe. We wouldn’t want another diplomatic incident, now would we? However, they are useful. You will give Craxina the means with which she can contact her dear Sheloran.”

“If you hurt Craxina or any of them,” Baxlon shouted, “Sheloran will come for all of you! I don’t give a fuck how bad you think you might be. You will wind up exactly like the Harkeen!”

“Let me give you a tip,” the Lovecraftian cheerful voice bubbled, “If someone like me is looking for their target, telling them that the target will show up if they hurt an innocent little being like Craxina isn’t a terribly good idea. I think I could live with a diplomatic incident after all.”

“No! Please!!!”

“Then you will do exactly what I say and give that innocent little fluff a way to contact Sheloran. It’s the only way to ensure their safety.”

“I’ll do it!” Baxlon wailed. “Just don’t hurt them!”

The gloves detached from Baxlon’s skin, and grabbed the phone.

Baxlon curled up in a tiny ball, comforted by his pets, as the door to his apartment opened and closed.

***

Judge Johnson stood beside her luxury grav-sedan, looking at her phone impatiently.

A shadow broke away from the others in the night-shrouded forest and approached.

“You’re late!” Judge Johnson snapped.

“Apologies,” the harmless looking young man said. “I had a little something to take care of first.”

“I hope that ‘little something’ is that fucking Judge Dredd!” Judge Johnson snarled. “Do you know he just put out a warrant on me?!?”

“Really?” the completely harmless little man winced, “Oh, that’s terrible!”

“The whole operation could be compromised,” Judge Johnson snarled, “and if I go down, you go down!”

“We would never let that happen,” the little mouse of a guy replied with a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, we have everything taken care of. Judge Dredd has been handled.”

“Good!” Judge Johnson sneered, “I hope he suffered.”

“I have no doubt that he does,” the utterly inoffensive guy replied.

Judge Johnson wondered if he could even be a part of Cerberus. He probably wasn’t a field agent. They wouldn’t send one of those. They wouldn’t want even her to see one.

“Oh, Judge,” the little wimp said, “I have a question. Do you even remember me?”

“What?”

The little puppy of a guy just smiled...

And launched a vicious kick upward into Judge Johnson’s crotch.

As Judge Johnson doubled over and her knees buckled, he grabbed her throat, slamming her against the side of her sedan. His free hand shot into her waistband, pulling out a small semi-automatic and tossing it aside.

“Well, I remember you,” he snarled, revealing wickedly sharp teeth.

He headbutted her, breaking her nose, as he reached into her jacket pocket and grabbed her phone, flipping it into the open window of her sedan.

“You were the one who told me about an ‘exciting opportunity’ that would greatly reduce my sentence,” he chuckled as he slammed her face first into the pavement and pulled out a set of hand-cuffs.

“You can’t do this,” Judge Johnson managed to gasp as her wrists were savagely wrenched together. “They—“

“They are the ones who sent me, Your Honor,” the man, who still looked like a puppy (because it was funny), chuckled. “Judge Carter is well regarded, popular, and well connected. He would be missed, looked for, and ultimately avenged. You might be well connected, but you are certainly not liked and will definitely not be missed.”

Judge Johnson was roughly pulled to her feet as half-dozen other shadows emerged from the trees.

“And more importantly,” the kind looking person standing in front of her smiled, “when Judge Carter goes through your documents... well... the ones we gave him, and finds out that you’ve been diverting prisoners from the system and selling them to fucking xenos, people will be shocked, but not consumed with disbelief.”

Behind them, the others were guiding in a shuttle that landed nearby.

“When they follow the trail to an abandoned research facility in independent space,” the puppy smiled pleasantly, “they will find (gasp)... many of those prisoners... well... their dead bodies anyhow.”

Judge Johnson just looked at him, blood streaming down her face, in complete shock.

“And (oh no)... they will find out that horrible medical experiments were conducted on them!” The puppy said as he put his hands against his cheeks. “There will be a manhunt, and they will find out that the last place you were on the grid was... right here next to where an unmarked shuttle took off! They will look and look for you, but... they will never find you... Because do you know where you are going?” The puppy said, his features turning wolf-like. “Would you like to guess, Your Honor? I’ll give you a hint. There are a lot of people who remember you there, and they all would like to thank you... personally.”

“If you do this, you will all regret it!”

“You must be referring to your infamous blackmail folder,” the wolf-like man said as he loomed above her, “Our intrusion specialists and hackers are already on it. See, they have a bet with another group of people. It’s a race between them to see if they can find the files before you tell us where they are.”

Judge Johnson’s eyes widened in horror.

“You will tell us, Your Honor,” the wolf laughed, “These are the people they use to keep us in line. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a date. Off you go,” the werewolf-like monster chuckled, “Have fun.”

He turned to a black haired woman (or was it dirty blonde?) as Judge Johnson’s sedan was being pulled into the shuttle.

“I shall leave this to your expert hands,” he smiled.

“You’re not coming?” the brown haired woman said (no, it was definitely black... I think). “It’s going to be one hell of a party.”

“I got my licks in,” the perfectly normal looking guy replied, “Besides, I have somewhere to be.”

“You are actually choosing that filthy whore over this?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” the man smiled. “And, Marta?”

“Yeah?”

“Call her a ‘filthy whore’ again, and I will kill you.”

“You got it... boss.” the woman smiled a genuine smile.

It was pretty.

The man smiled and disappeared back into the trees.