Chapter 22.1: The Law Of The Land
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September 2, 2058

Saskatoon Suborbital Airport

Saskatoon, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

Travis Bull walked into the airport, jacket slung over his shoulder and luggage at his side, and smiled.

Finally, after years without a badge, some honest work.

He had spent the better part of a year on the run from the Comanche mob, for trying to do a vigilante hit on one of the jerkoffs they had controlling things down in Vegas. They were breaking the law, and the Utes damned sure weren't doing anything about it, so why couldn't he?

Travis was obsessed with his particular brand of justice. He knew his history, and knew of the past events where the white man had oppressed the AmerIndians, the tribes who were here first. He knew of the corporate strike teams executing reservation-dwellers, the early lopsided treaties, and the mass detainments into prison camps during the early 2000s. But as the Native American Nations formed, men that shared his blood did the exact same thievery the white men did. They ran destructive corps of their own, ran illegal crime mobs, screwed honest men out of land they earned.

Travis resolved himself to uphold the law, absolute and to the letter, regardless of whether the criminal was white, black, red, green, or orange. He had success doing so with the Cheyenne police in the Sioux Nation, but eventually too many questions were asked. Questions about bodies, and why they were dead on the streets instead of being tried in the courts.

It wasn't Travis's fault. He felt he was doing the right thing. Some guys got off scot-free through the courts despite mountains of evidence, so long as they had "connections". Why was it bad for him for pick up the legal systems slack? Small towns across the nation played judge, jury, and executioner with their criminals, and it worked for them. Why not here?

But the Sioux police captains didn't see it that way, so he got turfed. Frankly, he was lucky not to get killed. The Lakota Mafia put a bounty on him, for killing one of their captains during a routine traffic stop that escalated to a drawdown.

So he headed to the shadows, as a vigilante hunter for hire. He popped low-level gutter trash, shadowrunners, corporate types, and beetle boys in the Ute Nation, before running into his troubles with the Las Vegas Comanche mob. But David Longmiles, the police chief of the Long Arms Security Corp, threw him a lifeline. Longmiles was said to be a good man, an honourable man, and now he needed someone to help clean up in his neck of the woods. The Algonkian-Manitou Council was being plagued by a notorious shadowrunner and some elven eco-terrorists, and calls were put out to freelancing ex-cops willing to bring them in.

Travis answered the call, and was planning on meeting up with an old friend named James Redhand in a couple days time. Redhand had also been turfed from the Cheyenne beat for sinister reasons, and was looking for work. It would be just like old times.

As Travis headed for the exit doors though, he started picking up bad vibes. There were a lot of military types in the airport today, and Travis's luggage was given the full inspection. Heck, his knives were almost taken away from him. All the tension and security was said to be down to the elven eco-terrorists and their recent actions. But he did notice some people talking in radios when he showed up......

Suddenly, he was stopped by a burly ork in urban military fatigues, who stopped talking into his cybernetic comm implant and jandered over to Travis.

"Excuse me brother, are you Travis Bull, from the Sioux Nation?"

Travis looked around warily, and seemed to notice some more military boys materializing from nowhere. What was this now?

"......Yes I am......"

"Could you state your reason for coming to Saskatoon please?"

"......Like I told the luggage check back there, I'm here to work for Long Arms. Man named David Longmiles sent for me."

"We'd like you to come with us and answer some questions, could you walk this way please?"

Travis looked around. Five other military types were surrounding him, all with guns and stun batons strapped on them.

"......Do I have a choice?"

~~~

Travis was escorted as the the center of a triangle formation: three soliders behind him, two to the sides, one in front.

Travis was suspicious from the outset of this group, but his suspicions only grew when he was being escorted towards some side halls, leading to the bowels of the airport. Nothing good ever happened in places like this.

"Could you boys tell me what this is all about?"

"Just follow us sir." The ork said. "We just need to ask you a few questions."

"Can't I just answer them closer to the exit?"

"Sir, please just cooperate with us, and you'll be free to enjoy your stay in the Algonkian-Manitou Council."

"No, I wanna know what this is all about." said Travis. "What, are you guys lackeys of the Comanche mob, putting a hit out on me? Whats going on?"

The ork looked up and down the hallway, sighed, then nodded slightly at a person behind Travis.

Before Travis could react, he felt a powerful jolt near his ribs and went down. It felt like he was on lit on fire, and then he went numb all over and couldn't feel a thing......until a second jolt hit him in the back of the neck, and Travis almost blacked out from the pain.

Travis felt himself being dragged roughly along the ground by some powerful hands, and could vaguely make out some voices.

"What the drek is he talking about with a Comanche mob? Whats that?"

"Some wannabe mafia in Vegas. Guess he pissed off someone else besides the War Chief."

"......How are we going to question him if he's unconscious? Do we get a medic in?"

"Screw that. We're killing him. He's here to put lead into Hillborn's favourite lapdog, he'll pay the price. We'll say he pulled a knife and rushed us."

Travis was thrown into a side room, heard a door close, and looked up through hazy vision to see the ork pointing a pistol at him. He raised his hands in front of him in a futile gesture, but then felt hammer blows fall upon him, and Travis Bull saw an endless void of black, swallowing him from all sides......

~~~

September 4, 2058

Long Arms Police Station

Regina, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

A slightly nervous Constable Dan Stonetusk was sitting in an understuffed chair, awaiting his fate. Today, he had to meet with the chief of Long Arms policing, David Longmiles. Meetings like these could go either way, especially to a cop like Stonetusk, who walked the line between just and corrupt on a regular basis.

David leafed through documents from a personnel file, then looked at Stonetusk with a serious expression.

"From the looks of things, your arrest-to-conviction rate is exemplary." said David. "But I'd like to ask why the number of actual arrests is so low."

"I don't juke the stats with a bunch of fake arrests." said Stonetusk. "I report what I see, and do what I'm told. Some cops got fired from here for arresting inncoents just to boost the numbers. I like my job, so I do my job right."

David nodded. "Seems your physical, field work, and marksmanship test results are exemplary."

"I keep in practise."

"......I need good police, Constable Stonetusk. I need people to watch over this town. Long Arms is under attack from a variety of groups. Eco-terrorists, shadowrunnres, smugglers, racist gangs......I need someone willing to do what it takes. Are you that man?"

"I am, sir." said Stonetusk, straightening his back and putting on the best poker face he could.

David looked over his files for a second, then took a long deep breath. David then reached in a drawer, and pulled out a badge and a credstick.

"You're being promoted to oversee the North East district of Regina. Congratulations, Sergeant Stonetusk."

Stonetusk exhaled. He was nervous about being fired for some asinine Longmiles reason, and instead he was being promoted exactly where he wanted to be.

"As you know, the northern districts of Regina are among our most important assignments." said David. "We need strong men to deal with the shadowrunner problem up there. I'm counting on you."

"I won't disappoint, sir." said Stonetusk. He could barely suppress an eye-roll at Longmiles, as Longmiles thought Leon was the whole source of the shadowrunner problem, and thus the northern districts were the highest priority in Regina, let alone the whole Council. The real important assignments should've been in Thunder Bay or Saskatoon or Calgary, but David was convinced that once Leon fell, the other problems would fall like dominoes. An idiotic line of thought to be sure.

"Take this credstick, go to a suit shop that handles big and tall men such as yourself, and get two suits. Get them pressed. You may appear in front of those damned reporters, and I want you to carry yourself with the importance of your position."

"Of course sir."

"Alright, I'll have more orders for you later today, so clear out your old desk and furnish your new office. Dismissed."

Dan saluted his boss, and went to walk out.

"Oh, and do tell that gentleman outside to come in." said David as Stonetusk left.

Stonetusk looked around outside, and saw a hard-eyed AmerIndian sitting on a chair near the wall, reading a paperback.

"Chief Longmiles wants to see you, I think."

The AmerIndian man got up without a word, and exchanged a passing glance with Stonetusk as he walked by. Stonetusk almost felt the urge to back up a step. This one looked about as dangerous as a rabid hellhound......what was he doing here?

But the moment passed, and Stonetusk went to prepare his new office.

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