Paris Knox and the Order of Things

Chapter 1

[That noir music that plays under monologue start:]

Pasiphae 6. The furthest colonized place in the galaxy. Uh- unless you're one of those nutjobs that still believes in aliens. But I'll assume you aren't.

It was on a sorry rock nearly 600 light years from earth, just to the left of Orion's Belt. Not that its relation to constellations mattered when Earth's sky was so chock-full of light pollution that the only star you could gaze at was the one out during the day. Not recommended if you want your eyes to be functioning.

But, uh, back to the outpost. There wasn't much there besides a communications station still sending signals out to intelligent life that didn't exist. It was a small, dark city, clinging to a small, dark asteroid in the middle of space.

You may at this point be wondering, what am I doing here?

Well, I'm visiting an old friend.

My name is Paris Knox, and I'm a detective.

"Paris! Look at this rock!"

And... that's my... partner, Sashka Welsh. I usually like to work alone, but somehow they roped me into not ditching them as soon as we arrived. It's just... man, those sad, dark eyes.

It's not like this was permanent, though. I can say with resounding confidence that Welsh would be somebody else's problem by the end of my stay here. They'd get bored when they realized life as a detective is mostly just ordinary. Until something gets stolen, or someone gets murdered, or someone cheats, goes missing, needs my help and has the cash to pay for it... I mostly spend my time doing nothing. I enjoy sudoku puzzles on occasion. Sometimes when I'm feeling wild I do crosswords.

Right now I was not doing nothing, or one of my many other exciting, regular activities. I was following Welsh as they meandered down the dimly lit sidewalk, pointing out an 'interesting' rock or small shop every few seconds.

"Ooh, there's a bakery!" they said. "Isn't it cute!"

"Delightful," I grumbled. It was a ten minute walk to Leah Straun's apartment, and I was getting sick of Welsh's constant babbling.

"Hey, who are we going to see again?" Welsh said, turning to face me. "You didn't really say their name."

I sighed. "Leah Straun. She's an old friend from the Academy."

"She's a pilot?"

"Captain of the militia."

"This place has a militia?"

"Everywhere has at least some law enforcement," I said impatiently.

"But it seems so nice here."

That was the last straw. I grabbed their arm and stopped walking. They stared at me in surprise.

"Listen, Welsh, if you want to learn more about what detective work's really like, get this into your head," I snapped. "A place can look as pretty as a daisy and still be a veritable hive of filth under the surface. My job is to expose that filth, and clean it up when necessary. Do you get it?"

Welsh nodded, wide-eyed.

"Good. It's not always a nice job. And no place is nice. Someone has to keep everyone in line," I said, and continued down the sidewalk. "That's just the order of things."