04-10-2018, 06:08 AM
Jim had been driving for most of the afternoon. The sun slipped halfway down the horizon, bathing the sky in bright fushias and pinks, with a deep velvet hue swiftly crushing it against the long, distant line. It was getting to that time of day in the Endless Dunes where the climate was tolerable, even desirable. Jim rolled down the window of his squeaking utility truck and planted his elbow on the door, letting the cool air rush into the cabin and the smoke of his cigar trailing behind him. It was cool enough now that the sun had begun its descent that he wouldn't feel the boiling hot wind whip over his face but warm enough that the frigid desert night didn't ice his skin instantly. The rugged wheels tore sand into the air as the old vehicle struggled up a dune and down the other side. As he rolled down, Raynor could see what all the fuss had been about.
His soldiers had been scouting outside of the Town With No Name when they noticed a flurry of activity at what was thought a disused and abandoned town. Locals had informed Jim this place was once known as Nippur but it had been uninhabited since the terran commander had journeyed into the Omniverse. Sandstone walls ringed the structures within, ranging from humble homes and tent stalls to taller, more ornate buildings. Lantern lights were being lit as the night descended upon the sands, and even from his vantage point, Raynor could see the bustle of activity filling the busy town.
Sergeant Baxter wanted his commanding officer to take backup, or at least another soldier with him. Jim decided against it. Baxter’s reconnaissance had not turned up any violence, just people moving into the ruins of a once thriving town. They could be peaceful nomads who had finally found somewhere they could settle down and rest their heads instead of braving the deadly desert nights without shelter. They could also be a shady outfit looking to turn a profit or find a way to exploit the empty town for nefarious purposes, but that seemed less likely. Besides, it wasn’t like old Jimbo couldn’t defend himself.
Pressing firmly on the brakes, Jim brought the ute to a sliding stop. Gripping the cigar with his molars, Raynor jiggled the handle just right and bumped his shoulder into the door at the same time. It clicked open with a groan and the terran commander jumped into the sand. Although the sunlight no longer scorched it, there was still plenty of residual heat left in the dunes.
“Well well, what have we got here?” Jim said, staring at the gates of the sandstone walls as people ferried in. “Ain’t gonna win any beauty contests, but it doesn’t need to.”
Jim noticed a guard standing by the gates, his eyes stuck on Raynor since his beat-up vehicle skidded to a stop.
“Might not be friendly types though,” he said to himself. “Or maybe just not a trustin’ bunch. Can’t say I’d be any different in their shoes.” Jim looked over his shoulder and hit the ute with a fist. “Adjutant! We’re here.”
The CMC-400 armour, black as coal, leaned over the edge of the ute’s tray, the suspension sagging to the side. The visor opened to reveal a holographic depiction of a female android’s head, the light flickering. The armour hoisted itself off the tray and landed in a kneel, sending a tremor through the ground before standing.
It didn’t hurt to have a little security.
“What are your orders, commander?” the adjutant asked, piloting the CMC-400 armour as if a real human was nestled inside its ebony plates.
“Just keep your eyes peeled for trouble,” Jim said. “I’m hopin’ we won’t find ourselves any, but you never know. Don’t draw a weapon or shoot anyone without my sayin’ so.”
“Understood, commander.” The visor flipped down, revealing a white skull scratched onto orange glass.
Jim and the adjutant walked over to the gates. The AI’s shell drew glances from the guard, who approached them before they reached the passage through the sandstone walls. “What’s going on here?”
“Deputy Sheriff Jim Raynor, sir,” Jim introduced himself. “Visitin’ from the Town With No Name. Heard there was somethin’ goin’ on here and came to investigate. This is my AI, Adjutant.” Jim looked up at the skull visage atop the towering robotic suit. “She’s harmless. Promise.”
The guard looked them up and down. “Yeah? And what did you come to investigate?”
Jim shrugged. “Just bein’ a sticky-beak, I suppose. Place’s been emptier than a bar in Prohibition for a long time. Why’s people suddenly floodin’ in now?”
“The Golden King, Gilgamesh, has returned,” the guard said. “Nippur was his and he has returned to reclaim it. Those who once followed him have come back as well.”
“That a fact?” Jim said, glancing at the people pouring into the desert town. “Don’t suppose it’d be possible to meet this king now, would it? Might be nice to establish friendly relations.”
“Not just anyone can see him,” the guard said.
Jim took a long drag on his cigar and let the smoke leak out the spaces between his teeth. “What if I was a Prime? That make me more than ‘just anyone?’”
The guard scrutinised Jim. “Anyone could just say that.”
Raynor lifted his index finger and focused. A tiny pinprick of white light sparked in the space just above the tip. “This’d be omnilium. Only Primes can make this stuff. Can’t fake that.”
“All right,” the guard said, convinced. “Follow me if you want to meet Gilgamesh.”
“Come on, adjutant,” Jim said to his AI as it plodded after him. “Let’s go meet the king.”
His soldiers had been scouting outside of the Town With No Name when they noticed a flurry of activity at what was thought a disused and abandoned town. Locals had informed Jim this place was once known as Nippur but it had been uninhabited since the terran commander had journeyed into the Omniverse. Sandstone walls ringed the structures within, ranging from humble homes and tent stalls to taller, more ornate buildings. Lantern lights were being lit as the night descended upon the sands, and even from his vantage point, Raynor could see the bustle of activity filling the busy town.
Sergeant Baxter wanted his commanding officer to take backup, or at least another soldier with him. Jim decided against it. Baxter’s reconnaissance had not turned up any violence, just people moving into the ruins of a once thriving town. They could be peaceful nomads who had finally found somewhere they could settle down and rest their heads instead of braving the deadly desert nights without shelter. They could also be a shady outfit looking to turn a profit or find a way to exploit the empty town for nefarious purposes, but that seemed less likely. Besides, it wasn’t like old Jimbo couldn’t defend himself.
Pressing firmly on the brakes, Jim brought the ute to a sliding stop. Gripping the cigar with his molars, Raynor jiggled the handle just right and bumped his shoulder into the door at the same time. It clicked open with a groan and the terran commander jumped into the sand. Although the sunlight no longer scorched it, there was still plenty of residual heat left in the dunes.
“Well well, what have we got here?” Jim said, staring at the gates of the sandstone walls as people ferried in. “Ain’t gonna win any beauty contests, but it doesn’t need to.”
Jim noticed a guard standing by the gates, his eyes stuck on Raynor since his beat-up vehicle skidded to a stop.
“Might not be friendly types though,” he said to himself. “Or maybe just not a trustin’ bunch. Can’t say I’d be any different in their shoes.” Jim looked over his shoulder and hit the ute with a fist. “Adjutant! We’re here.”
The CMC-400 armour, black as coal, leaned over the edge of the ute’s tray, the suspension sagging to the side. The visor opened to reveal a holographic depiction of a female android’s head, the light flickering. The armour hoisted itself off the tray and landed in a kneel, sending a tremor through the ground before standing.
It didn’t hurt to have a little security.
“What are your orders, commander?” the adjutant asked, piloting the CMC-400 armour as if a real human was nestled inside its ebony plates.
“Just keep your eyes peeled for trouble,” Jim said. “I’m hopin’ we won’t find ourselves any, but you never know. Don’t draw a weapon or shoot anyone without my sayin’ so.”
“Understood, commander.” The visor flipped down, revealing a white skull scratched onto orange glass.
Jim and the adjutant walked over to the gates. The AI’s shell drew glances from the guard, who approached them before they reached the passage through the sandstone walls. “What’s going on here?”
“Deputy Sheriff Jim Raynor, sir,” Jim introduced himself. “Visitin’ from the Town With No Name. Heard there was somethin’ goin’ on here and came to investigate. This is my AI, Adjutant.” Jim looked up at the skull visage atop the towering robotic suit. “She’s harmless. Promise.”
The guard looked them up and down. “Yeah? And what did you come to investigate?”
Jim shrugged. “Just bein’ a sticky-beak, I suppose. Place’s been emptier than a bar in Prohibition for a long time. Why’s people suddenly floodin’ in now?”
“The Golden King, Gilgamesh, has returned,” the guard said. “Nippur was his and he has returned to reclaim it. Those who once followed him have come back as well.”
“That a fact?” Jim said, glancing at the people pouring into the desert town. “Don’t suppose it’d be possible to meet this king now, would it? Might be nice to establish friendly relations.”
“Not just anyone can see him,” the guard said.
Jim took a long drag on his cigar and let the smoke leak out the spaces between his teeth. “What if I was a Prime? That make me more than ‘just anyone?’”
The guard scrutinised Jim. “Anyone could just say that.”
Raynor lifted his index finger and focused. A tiny pinprick of white light sparked in the space just above the tip. “This’d be omnilium. Only Primes can make this stuff. Can’t fake that.”
“All right,” the guard said, convinced. “Follow me if you want to meet Gilgamesh.”
“Come on, adjutant,” Jim said to his AI as it plodded after him. “Let’s go meet the king.”
![[Image: jimsig.jpg]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/07/jimsig.jpg)