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...
***
“Listen here,” Judge Carter shouted at the smiling face on the monitor, “Put me through to Judge Johnson right fucking now! This is serious, goddammit. Tell her that I know everything! She’ll know what that means. Tell her to either come to me or put herself under police protection now!”
“Judge Johnson is not available at this time,” the man replied with a bland smile, “Would you like to leave a message?”
“Tell that stupid bitch she has an hour to call me before I write a fucking warrant!” Judge Carter snarled as he slammed his metal fist onto his desk, shattering his keyboard (again) and terminating the call.
“Your honor,” a voice said as it entered his mind, “Mr. Baxlon is here to see you.”
“Ah, the shitloach,” Judge Dredd smiled. Thank God for some normalcy, “Send that bottom-feeder in.”
A few moments later and Baxlon cautiously entered Judge Carter’s chambers.
Judge Carter smiled. At least he could fix this.
“I was wondering when your sorry ass would come slithering in here,” Judge Carter growled in mock anger. “Come in here to gloat or something?”
Baxlon just sighed, blowing a few tiny bubbles.
“I’ve already filed all of the paperwork,” Baxlon said quietly, “But I decided I would save you the trouble of writing a summons and myself a second trip.”
Judge Carter quickly accessed the files.
“What the hell?” he spluttered, genuinely shocked.
“I am no longer Sheloran, no last name, species: Plath’s, representation in this matter,” Baxlon said formally. “I have no doubt that the court will be contacted by her new lawyer, whoever that may be, shortly.”
“Nope,” Judge Carter replied.
“What?”
“This has to be signed by the court to be official, and I can personally guarantee you that won’t happen… until you tell me exactly why the fuck you would pass up a high-profile slam dunk case.”
“That is a matter between myself and my client, who has signed the forms,” Baxlon replied curtly, “Good day.”
Baxlon turned and walked to the door, which made an ominous “click”.
“Please open the door, Your Honor,”
“Not until you tell me exactly what the hell is going on, shitloach.”
“I am under no legal obligation to do so,” Baxlon said, his back still to Judge Carter, “You will open this door, or I will file an ‘illegal detention’ complaint.”
Click
Baxlon turned around at that unmistakable sound to see Judge Carter holding a comically large revolver pointed at him.
“Talk,” Judge Carter said calmly.
“Are you insane?!?” Baxlon shouted. “Do you realize that you are breaking the law right now?”
“When the law is perverted, compromised by the state,” Judge Carter said calmly, “Then the law is as invalid as the state that corrupted it. There is no threat greater than a state that believes it is above the law and no greater crime than a man failing to oppose it.”
Judge Carter leveled the revolver at Baxlon’s rapidly darting body.
“This is a thirteen-millimeter ‘Dragonslayer’, loaded with anti-armor rounds.” I know for a fact that this specific weapon will penetrate a Federation APC, because I shot the pilot of one. Don’t think your wiggling will save you. Advanced fire control, motherfucker. That pilot was moving a lot faster than you are. Now, unless you want to be the first person I kill over this… Talk.”
Baxlon stopped darting around.
“And you still consider Sheloran my client?”
“I do.”
“Then I want immunity for any crimes I discuss during this, for lack of a better word, ‘interview’.”
“You are under duress,” Judge Carter replied, “It would be inadmissible anyway.”
“Not good enough, asshole,” Baxlon replied, “It’s immunity, complete and total, or you shoot me and learn nothing.”
“You prepared to die on this hill, guppy?”
“You prepared to further corrupt your precious law?” Baxlon replied. “Murder an innocent man? What are you, part of the forces that have corrupted the law or the one trying to preserve it? I ask you, ‘Judge’ Carter, is this a hill you are prepared to murder on? I do have something you want, but the only way you are going to get it is to give my client full immunity. After all, what’s the worst she could have done, kill a few more raiders? Pirated a movie?”
“You do have a point,” Judge Carter did as he raised the barrel of his revolver, carefully lowering the hammer. “Give me a minute...”
***
Judge Carter roared with laughter pounding his poor desk again and again until the reinforced top splintered the wooden legs.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” he laughed as a port opened in the side of his visor, spraying out a viscous green liquid. “I fucking needed that…. Holy shit….”
Baxlon sat there very, very still. Of all the reactions he planned for, this was NOT one he expected.
“You got me… You fucking GOT me!” Judge Carter howled… “And yes, this document will pardon even that… Bwahahahahaha!”
Judge Carter broke down into giggles, actual giggles.
“Welp, There goes my career,” he chuckled as he finally caught his breath. “Tell your client that she is clear of anything she has done before… right now… Just tell her to stop making weapons of mass destruction, please.”
“Yes, Your Honor,”
“You said the name of this organization is ‘Cerberus’ and that they are part of Research and Development?”
“That’s what they told me,” Baxlon replied.
“And you said they had files that your gutless yellow-bellied hide refused to accept?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then, you are going to get those for me.”
“No, Your Honor.”
“What?” Judge Carter said as he reached for his pistol again.
“Shoot me if you want, asshole,” Baxlon replied calmly. “I ‘died’ the day my people exiled me. I don’t expect you to understand, but I am truly ‘dead’. A few years one way or the other matters much less than how I die. A bullet from that cannon is far more merciful than what groups like that Cerberus will do to me. Trust me, I know.”
“Fair enough,” Judge Carter replied. “This isn’t your home, just your feeding trough. I shouldn’t expect anything more from you than I already received. I guess I will just have to file a subpoena then… and include how I found out about their name...”
Baxlon stiffened.
“Get me the files, guppy.”
***
Baxlon lowered his bot into the large “indoor pool” in his apartment.
What a day…
His pet fish shoaled around him as he manually triggered the feeder.
“Some days I envy you guys, you know,” he said in his native language as a particularly affectionate triggerfish snuggled him.
He smiled.
Playfully dodging the fish, he made his way to a submerged terminal and shot off an email to Cvarini explaining that in the end, he did NOT abandon Sheloran, or rather he is going to but not before he sprung her. He then offered fifteen percent above whatever Craxina was offering, apologized profusely, and said that he would be lost without her…
Which wasn’t that far from the truth.
He then rebooted, loading a stealth operating system (a real Kalent one), and accessed several dark boards, leaving an encrypted message that included the number for one of the several burner phones in his possession.
He snorted. You might win against that asshole, but he always found a way to tear off a mouthful.
He paused. He actually was ok with this. Whatever that Judge Johnson and this Cerberus were up to was definitely wrong. No matter how nasty this Cerberus might be, they were about to go up against motherfucking Judge Dredd.
He had no doubt who was going to win, and they weren’t named after a bitch.
Suddenly a net exploded up from the sand, entangling him and some of his fish.
He felt a stabbing pain where one of the triggerfish reflexively shanked him as he was unceremoniously lifted up out of the water, gasping and struggling.
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.