02-22-2017, 09:16 PM
First day as a deputy sheriff. Couldn't be hotter if it tried.
Jim strolled through the Town With No Name, heat dancing on his skin from the sun's rays and churning in his stomach from the whiskey. It felt weird, wearing the badge of law enforcement once again. After so many years of being a rebel, branded as a terrorist and made out to be some sort of boogeyman to the people of the Terran Dominion, to be holding a position of state-endorsed authority almost felt like he was pretending. Yet he had been a marshal on Mar Sara an entire lifetime ago, so riding a bike and all that, though his legs wobbled and the pedals moved in jerky motions.
He gave an errant thought to Swann and his rocky relationship with Karax. Swann was a good man, but it didn't take much to put him offside, especially if you were a stranger, and even worse if you're an alien. The chat in the bar earlier seemed to get through his stubborn skull; Jim just hoped it wouldn't bore its way out and float off into the sky.
The door to Roland's office clapped against the frame repeatedly, the wind attempting to slam it shut but without any luck. As Jim drew closer, his communicator arm bracer beeped.
"Incoming transmission," the adjutant's honeyed voice said.
Jim stopped. Who would be contacting him? Had someone else from Koprulu space seen his Dataverse message?
Pushing a button, Raynor accepted the call. The oval screen on the unit displayed a blue line that peaked and wavered as the voice came through. "Hello? Is this James Raynor, located in the Endless Dunes? More specifically, the Town With No Name?"
Jim frowned. It was a recorded message. Why was he asking something he wouldn't get an answer to?
"Oh, forgive me if it isn't, but I'm afraid I'm in an unenviable situation," the voice said. "My name is Doctor Regal. I have discovered something quite alarming, and I need all the help I can get. There is an organisation called Nebula, that are ... well, I don't want to get too much into it now, but what they're doing is concerning for all of us who live in the Omniverse. Very, very concerning."
"In any case, I've heard of your exploits, Mister Raynor. In short time, you've become a deputy sheriff of the Town With No Name, which I understand is a great accomplishment. I hear Sheriff Deschain doesn't hand out badges like candy, so you must be something else. It is because of this that I humbly request an audience with you to explain this threat and hope that you may lend your assistance to the matter. I have uploaded my location in Corsucant, Tier 2, to your device. Simply follow the map."
"I hope to hear from you soon, Mister Raynor. I appreciate that we're strangers, but this is a dire situation."
The transmission ceased.
There was a lot to take in. An organisation up to no good, a request for help from a complete unknown doctor ... the issue sounded urgent. If this doctor had stretched out to find Jim on the off chance that he would listen, then things must've been desperate for Regal.
It wasn't in Jim's nature to leave a call for help unanswered. At the least, he could visit this Coruscant and speak to the doctor. Might be nice to take a trip out of the desert anyway.
Jim quickly returned to the workshop and entered his CMC-400 marine armour. Noisily stomping back to the sheriff's office, he pushed the door open and peered inside. Roland sat at his desk, scribbling on papers.
"What can I do for you, Raynor?" Deschain said, his eyes staying glued to his administration work.
"Headin' to Coruscant for a spell, sheriff," Jim said. "Got someone in trouble who might need my help."
"You banking on returning from there? I hope I didn't make you a deputy for you to suddenly skip town."
"Just a visit, then I'll be back." Something occurred to Raynor before he continued on his way. "Oh, and let Baxter and the crew know where I am. They can stay here. Tell 'im you're in charge till I get back."
Roland nodded his head, eyes still down on the desk. "Will do."
Jim released the door and let it flap in the desert breeze. "Adjutant, bring up the location of this Coruscant. I got a feelin' we've got a long walk ahead of us."
Jim strolled through the Town With No Name, heat dancing on his skin from the sun's rays and churning in his stomach from the whiskey. It felt weird, wearing the badge of law enforcement once again. After so many years of being a rebel, branded as a terrorist and made out to be some sort of boogeyman to the people of the Terran Dominion, to be holding a position of state-endorsed authority almost felt like he was pretending. Yet he had been a marshal on Mar Sara an entire lifetime ago, so riding a bike and all that, though his legs wobbled and the pedals moved in jerky motions.
He gave an errant thought to Swann and his rocky relationship with Karax. Swann was a good man, but it didn't take much to put him offside, especially if you were a stranger, and even worse if you're an alien. The chat in the bar earlier seemed to get through his stubborn skull; Jim just hoped it wouldn't bore its way out and float off into the sky.
The door to Roland's office clapped against the frame repeatedly, the wind attempting to slam it shut but without any luck. As Jim drew closer, his communicator arm bracer beeped.
"Incoming transmission," the adjutant's honeyed voice said.
Jim stopped. Who would be contacting him? Had someone else from Koprulu space seen his Dataverse message?
Pushing a button, Raynor accepted the call. The oval screen on the unit displayed a blue line that peaked and wavered as the voice came through. "Hello? Is this James Raynor, located in the Endless Dunes? More specifically, the Town With No Name?"
Jim frowned. It was a recorded message. Why was he asking something he wouldn't get an answer to?
"Oh, forgive me if it isn't, but I'm afraid I'm in an unenviable situation," the voice said. "My name is Doctor Regal. I have discovered something quite alarming, and I need all the help I can get. There is an organisation called Nebula, that are ... well, I don't want to get too much into it now, but what they're doing is concerning for all of us who live in the Omniverse. Very, very concerning."
"In any case, I've heard of your exploits, Mister Raynor. In short time, you've become a deputy sheriff of the Town With No Name, which I understand is a great accomplishment. I hear Sheriff Deschain doesn't hand out badges like candy, so you must be something else. It is because of this that I humbly request an audience with you to explain this threat and hope that you may lend your assistance to the matter. I have uploaded my location in Corsucant, Tier 2, to your device. Simply follow the map."
"I hope to hear from you soon, Mister Raynor. I appreciate that we're strangers, but this is a dire situation."
The transmission ceased.
There was a lot to take in. An organisation up to no good, a request for help from a complete unknown doctor ... the issue sounded urgent. If this doctor had stretched out to find Jim on the off chance that he would listen, then things must've been desperate for Regal.
It wasn't in Jim's nature to leave a call for help unanswered. At the least, he could visit this Coruscant and speak to the doctor. Might be nice to take a trip out of the desert anyway.
Jim quickly returned to the workshop and entered his CMC-400 marine armour. Noisily stomping back to the sheriff's office, he pushed the door open and peered inside. Roland sat at his desk, scribbling on papers.
"What can I do for you, Raynor?" Deschain said, his eyes staying glued to his administration work.
"Headin' to Coruscant for a spell, sheriff," Jim said. "Got someone in trouble who might need my help."
"You banking on returning from there? I hope I didn't make you a deputy for you to suddenly skip town."
"Just a visit, then I'll be back." Something occurred to Raynor before he continued on his way. "Oh, and let Baxter and the crew know where I am. They can stay here. Tell 'im you're in charge till I get back."
Roland nodded his head, eyes still down on the desk. "Will do."
Jim released the door and let it flap in the desert breeze. "Adjutant, bring up the location of this Coruscant. I got a feelin' we've got a long walk ahead of us."
![[Image: jimsig.jpg]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/07/jimsig.jpg)