Author : Curtis Brown

“What was that?” The Sheriff turned his head to one of his deputies after they heard a low rumble somewhere outside.

“Deputy, go check that out, I will handle this.” The Sheriff turned his head back to his prize: a short young man with a burnt-orange full length trench coat, spiked brown hair, and a pair of black goggles on his forehead. He sat across from the Sheriff in the tiny bright interrogation room with a little smirk on his face, and checked his watch.

“What, you got plans, kid? No, you don’t. Not anymore.” The Sheriff went on, smugly. “Stowing away on an interplanetary transport is one thing, but the Federation of Space Faring Nations does not tolerate theft aboard its ships.”

The Sheriff thought he hid his excitement well. On this space station, there was never this kind of action. He would hold the kid captive here, along with the evidence, to await the FSFN Marshals while the transport went on to its destination. The Sheriff would get a bonus for sure for his assistance in this, and if he got the kid to talk and spill something else, maybe even a promotion. The kid made it too easy. He still had that stupid smirk on his face. He would have almost felt sorry if it wasn’t for that smirk.

“You never had a chance kid. Even if you successfully grabbed the nano-processors there was no way off the transport. What were you thinking?” The Sheriff asked, probing for information.

“I was thinking, Sheriff, that it would be much easier to retrieve the nano-processors out of the evidence hold on a two-bit space station than off of a federal transport.” The kid stood up.


They heard a small explosion, seemingly just down the hall. The kids smirk turned into a full fledged smile, and the Sheriff stood up to face the kid.

“What was that? Where do you think you are going?” The Sheriff asked as the kid stepped towards the door,now confused and angry.

“That, my very perceptive Sheriff, is my ride. I’m leaving this piece of junk you call a space station.” The kid responded. The Sheriff was not pleased, but he heard the door open and was relieved.

“Deputy, cuff this kid, and take him to a cell.” The Sheriff commanded confidently.

“Excuse me?” Asked a rough voice.

The Sheriff turned toward the door and saw a portly man, dressed similarly to the kid, except balding and without goggles. The Sheriff did not know what to say.

“Its about time, Finley. You’re late. This guy almost cracked me.” The kid said as he pointed to his watch.

“The transport lingered. Come, the others have the cargo, lets go kid.” Finley lifted a pistol to the Sheriff’s face and smiled. “I trust you won’t mind letting our friend here go? Good, thats what I thought.”

The kid and Finley left the room. The Sheriff stood dumbfounded, and the only thing he could say, to no one in particular, was, “Well, there goes my bonus.”

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