Beyond the Stars

Marshal Law

Space western round of LayethTheSmackDown's contest. For the benefit of the judges, the images used were 1, 2, and 8 along with the compulsory character image.

Marshall Law

With a flick at the layers of her short, burlesque skirt, Jess flashed a small weapon strapped to her upper-thigh as a reminder to one of her regular patrons to keep things civil. "He ain't cheatin', John-Joe. Lady Luck just ain't on your side this nigh'. Sit yoursel' down and I'll bring y'all another round." She nodded to the barman, who set four tankards of the house brew on a tray. As she set the tray on the table in front of him, Jess patted John-Joe on the shoulder to draw his attention away from his cowering comrade. "This be yer last for the nigh', then y'all gotta head on home. Mr. Buzz says he got supplies comin' and some new buyers for that junk y'all pulled outta the mine last month. Y'all need to be at his place by sunrise."

The miner seated opposite John-Joe pushed the brim of his dusty Stetson higher up his forehead so he could meet her eye. "We hear ya, Miss Jess. Did he find out what it is yet?"

"That he didn't say, Billy. Now drink up and get yer scrawny hides home afore Miss Bo locks up The Keep for the nigh'."

The tavern patrons settled into chatter about their discovery, whatever caused the argument replaced by excitement of payday, new supplies, and the mystery of the monstrous machine they trailed out and onto a platform on the upper ridge. Despite there being no power source connected to its tentacle-looking wiring, the machine's opaque dome glowed brighter than the moon, lighting up the night desert with an eerie, blue iridescence. Many in the town thought it had been created by settlers decades before, but Buzz knew the technology was too complex to be that of the planet's first Earth-origin visitors. Someone, or something, had tried to bury it within the mountain it had once topped. The question plaguing Buzz was not why, what it was, or what it did that its creators felt the need to hide it. For Buzz, the question was how much someone would be willing to pay for it.

Just as Jess reached for the tavern bell to call time, the door swung inwards. Desert winds carried a late evening chill inside, swirling dust around the stranger in mini cyclones, and tossed her hair about her face, obscuring it from view.

The door slammed closed, helped by the stranger's knee-length-booted foot. Silence erupted.

A stranger in town never sat well with the locals, and said stranger being another gun-toting female set Jess on edge. Especially when her gun was a match in length to her leg and made Jess' weapon look like a child's toy. Her lean athleticism and attire spoke of a difficult, yet active lifestyle and screamed either bandit or bounty hunter. Neither were welcomed in Redbank.

"Evenin'," Jess greeted the stranger with a nod. "We're just closin' up for the nigh'. Can I help yer with somethin'?"

"I'm in town for the auction tomorrow. Is there some place I can stay for the night? A hotel or something?"

"This here's a small town. We ain't got no fancy hotels..."

"Look," the woman interrupted with a weary tone, her accompanying sigh revealing she was used to being rejected. "I just need somewhere to crash for a few hours."

"Had yer let me finish, I'd done told yer Miss Bo may have a cot over at The Keep." She indicted the group of men who'd been arguing, with a nod in their direction and continued, "These here boys be headin' that way if yer wanna follow 'em."

Jess giggled, shaking her head in amused disbelief, as John-Joe, Billy, and their two friends stood at the same time, sweeping their hats off as they did, and almost knocked the table over in their haste. All four of them rushed to her side like hungry puppies around a feeding dish at mealtime. Beneath her amusement, a flame of envy flared within Jess, igniting a desire to keep the woman as far away from Sheriff Woods as possible.