Memories of the Gun

The recent incidents with the Wild Huntsman and the narrowly missed hostilities with the Kal have caused me to amend Vanishing Point's fire arm prohibition allowing certain authorized members of House Partex to carry side arms on the station. While I tend ot abhor the use of firearms, I do have some experience with them. In fact, I own two: a standard snub-nose impulse laser, which I used to wear sometimes in my duties as Castellan of the Jade Dreamers. The other, I hadn't even taken out of storage in a long time.

I've recounted, previously, that The Collector and I have a bit of a history predating our discovery of the people of New Gallifrey. We... weren't always keeping the most reputable of company.

About a year after we began traveling together, we found ourselves... let's say "guests" of the local constabulary on a world called Browdley, apparently named for the man who "discovered" it. It was still largely a colony-type of civilization: prefabricated structures, largely lawless unless one had the money to buy the authorities, etc.

We had fallen afoul of a local gang who had decided they wanted to keep possession of something they called "The Vapour"; a semi-solid, mist-like energy shield that would atomize any solid, non-living matter which attempted to pass through it. It was the ultimate military defense on a world that didn't possess any energy-based weapons. It gave this gang far too much of an advantage, allowing them to, essentially, rule as they liked. While we may have, technically been rogues, we did (and still do) believe that those who seize power by force RARELY deserve it. We decided to remove The Vapour from the Browdley equasion. Since any standard energy weapon (the only thing capable of penetrating The Varpour) would have stood out, the two of us designed a pair of impulse laser pistols modeled after the standard repeating slug-shot pistols used on Browdley.

To make a long story short, unable to take The Vapour, we had to destroy it. A... slight miscalculation... in the amount of energy required to permanently disable it resulted in a massive shock wave, annihilating every solid, non-living matter within two townships. The law... didn't take kindly to that.

After a few days in our... lovely accommodations, we were taken from our cell to meet with one of the elite of Browdley; a man calling himself Jacob Bligh.

He was a blue-skinned, somewhat corpulent man in clearly expensive clothing with a sheen to him as though he'd been dipped in cooking oil.

In the interest of brevity, I will skip the verbal dance of the conversation and skip to the important points.

He was one of three major crime lords on Browdley. This is a fact he made no attempt to hide. It gave him the money and power to offer us our freedom in exchange for a job suited to our talents.

He told us the story of how a rival crime lord had abducted his unhatched daughter and was holding her egg as a way to dismantle Bligh's organization.

Not wanting to remain incarcerated, and not wanting to see an innocent pre-hatchling used in a gang war, we agreed to the job.

Infiltration of the rival's home proved to be remarkably easy, as it turned out. Extricating ourselves with the egg was a bit more problematic. I'll admit to having taken a few slugs while running, but I managed to avoid a regeneration.

We brought the egg to Bligh and we left.

While this tale may seem unremarkable in its telling, that is simply because I haven't finished telling it. I'm the only one who knows the true ending.

When I took my impulse revolver out of storage, it got me thinking about Browdley. I decided to go back to see if things had changed at all.

It had.

Bligh was now in total control of Browdley. I decided to see how his daughter was, since she'd have certainly hatched long ago.

I was surprised to find that Bligh never had any offspring. His mate was barren and always had been.

Bligh's rival, on the other hand, DID have a daughter, who disappeared before ever hatching...

I wonder if The Collector remembers Browdley.