Sign on the Dotted Line

[Jim Raynor]

The ute chugged to the edge of the Town With No Name. Jim applied the brakes and slowed down at the backside of the sheriff’s office. He grasped the rolled up piece of paper with the deal he had negotiated with Nippur’s diplomatic officer, hoping Ronald would endorse it officially with his signature. He popped open the door and jumped onto the hot sands.
 
“Adjutant, go ‘round back and see Swann,” Jim said to the robotic suit in the ute’s tray. “Get all the sand cleaned outta the joints.”
 
“Affirmative, commander,” the adjutant said, exiting the tray and heading off to complete her duty, leaving large and deep imprints in the sand.
 
Jim strolled around to the front door and let himself in. “Sheriff? You ‘round?”
 
It quickly became evident that he wasn’t. His desk was strewn with papers as usual, but the rickety old chair had been pushed out and was empty. The lantern he lit to keep working on through the night was without a flame.
 
Jim stuck his head out the door and glanced up at the velvet night. Roland was almost always in one of three places; his office, his house, or the bar. The moon wasn’t too high yet – not Deschain’s bed time for a little while, and besides, he enjoyed a nightcap before collapsing for the day.
 
Raynor crossed the town and stepped through the swinging doors of the bar. A few more of the townspeople were partaking in a drink than most nights, but it didn’t seem like a celebration. Under their red eyes bags and dirt clung. Clothes were rustled and stained. There was some chatter, but not much, and a lot of the patrons leaned over their tables and drinks in a slouch.
 
At the edge of the bar, Jim spotted Ronald with a shot of whisky pinched between his fingers, his hat resting in an empty stool beside him. His salt-and-pepper hair was dishevelled.
 
“Sheriff,” Jim said, lifting the hat from the stool and sitting down next to Deschain. “Looks like everyone had a hard day. Somethin’ go on that I missed?”
 
Ronald tilted his head back and drained the shot glass. He slammed it back on the bar. “Bandits. Caught us by surprise. Lot of the townsfolk got caught up in the roughhousing. No one got seriously hurt, but it was darn scary for them.” He paused as he tapped the bar and the barkeeper topped up his shot glass with another serving of brown liquor. “Wasn’t much fun for me and your crew either.”
 
“Sorry I wasn’t here to help out,” Jim said. “Thought the scoutin’ had been thorough.”
 
“It was,” the sheriff said, his tired eyes swimming in his shot. “But the bandits are getting more and more desperate. Don’t know if they’re running out of supplies faster these days or just having a harder time getting their grubby criminal mitts on them. In either case, they launched an ambush on us. A few rival gangs together, I would reckon. The numbers were too big to be anything else.”
 
“That ain’t good,” Jim said. “Last thing we need is those bastards gettin’ an even bigger number advantage on us.”
 
The next shot of the sheriff’s vanished down his throat. “So how did your trip to that abandoned shithole go?”
 
Jim unfurled the unsigned contract and splayed it over the bar, taking care to miss the wet patches. “Ain’t abandoned no more. Apparently the place is called Nippur, and there’s all mess’a people swarmin’ all over it. A lotta them think this King Gilgamesh is their saviour or some such.”
 
“A king?” Ronald said, letting out a chortle. “We got a king out in the deserts now?”
 
“Seems a well-liked king,” Jim said. “I’m thinkin’ it’d be good to strike up cordial relations with ‘em.”
 
Jim slid the contract across the bar and to Ronald’s attention. The old sheriff’s chapped lips moved soundlessly as his eyes moved from line to line. “You sure about this, Raynor?”
 
“After what you just told me, seems to me we could use the extra defence,” Jim said, casting a pitying glance on the townspeople handling their ordeal with alcohol. “Plus if they get as big as I think they’ll get, the supply line’ll keep everyone fed and healthy. No reason to think things’ll go south. Besides, we're strugglin' out here. If someone lends us a helpin' hand, I say we take it. They all gotta survive out here, same as us.”
 
Ronald glanced at the contract one last time, then looked to Raynor.

[Jim Raynor]

The sheriff of the Town With No Name sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. Things are getting more desperate. If they can help us, then we should take it." Ronald took out a pen from his pants pocket and signed his name with a flourish. "I just hope we can trust these people.”

Jim nodded and rolled the signed paper. “Me too, sheriff. But one thing I’ve learned is that even strangers’ll work together to help one another in places like this. If things go sour, well…we can deal with that if it comes up.”

Roland slammed back another shot and stood from his barstool, picking up his wide-brimmed hat. “Night, Jim.”

The next morning, Raynor pulled up outside the sandstone gates of Nippur once more. Jumping out of his rusty ute, he patted his back pocket to confirm he still had the signed treaty and commanded the adjutant to follow behind in his CMC-400 suit.

After passing through the layers of security, Jim met back up with Nippur’s diplomatic officer, Victor Wolfe.

“Hey Vic, made it back,” Jim said, holding out the treaty. “It’s all official now. Maybe we can actually make a difference together out here.”

[Victor Wolfe]

Taking a step away from the exorcist leaving whether or not there would be a lordly beating on this fine day the diplomat approached the space cowboy. politely taking the treaty into his hands he looked over the scroll, signed officially by Victor, with the diplomatic stamp of New Babylon still shining in all its glory, and the signature of the sheriff of The Town With No Name, Roland. It was official, the pact of the dunes was now finalised and Victor had completed his first major goal as the new face of New Babylonian diplomacy. 

"Yes, I am sure that this alliance will bring positive change and prosperity to all under its influence, I see a very bright future for us all. Once we have this situation more under control I will make working towards filling all ends of the agreement my top priority, on my honour as a New Babylonian." Victor gave a bow as he handed his Dataverse device to Kanda, the guard captain seeming surprised by how quickly the sly bastards attitude had changed when dealing with outsiders.

"If you could please take a picture to commemorate this glorious day in New Baby... no, Dunes history that would be most swell of you good sir" Yu did not seem convinced but decided that showing infighting to the outsider would not be the best move and thus got ready to take the picture. Victor held the treaty in one hand in full view of the camera and shook Jim's hand with the other, putting on his most charming of smiles the diplomat saw a flash of white light as the exorcist took the picture.

"I thank you for delivering this personally Jim, may the light of Gilgamesh guide you in your future endeavours comrade" the assassin smiled as he duplicated the treaty giving Jim a copy to keep for the town, and allowed him to return to his day to day business. Turning back to the exorcist he excitedly asked.

"So are you going to hit me or not Mr Guard Captain?"