Tombstone

Lying at the edge of a rocky ridge Calvo stared down at the settlement with barely concealed distaste. The guardswomen were scattered along the ridgeline, likewise staying out of sight, worried frowns and glances betraying their unease. Outside of the Prison, this was what passed as human habitation on Tau-Ceti Two. There were 'towns' like it on every shitty, barely habitable backwater planet , usually sharing the surface only with jails, contaminated waste dumps, high risk mining operations, and other installations which the civilised galaxy would rather have as far away as possible. They had become known as 'scumtowns'. Tombstone, on Tau-Ceti Two, was a prince among scumtowns.

The official designation of this place was 'Colony Settlement TC2-08: Aspiration City'. About a week after the first of the 'settlers' were landed, some forgotten local wit had nailed up a sign with the name 'Tombstone' crudely daubed in red paint, and of course, that was the name that stuck. It suited the place. Like its old wild west namesake, it was a lawless frontier town. Crime here was a way of life, disputes settled at the point of a gun, ****, **** and and savagery of every kind were the norm. Humankind at its best, Calvo thought sourly.

The authorities, of course, tollerated the scumtowns. They served a useful purpose as a magnet for the undesirable elements of society, the dispossesed, the sick, the criminal, those who simply could not live under a civilised regime. somehow all this human flotsam was washed ashore at such places. By and large, they were simply left to their own devices. Provided they did not bother the rest of the galaxy, they could do as they pleased to eachother.

Calvo and the pretty, redheaded guard Captain shared a knowing glance. Both knew that this was a very bad place for them to be. The Prison had almost no contact with Tombstone, but the guardswomen would represent the society these people despised, as well as being beautiful women, a scarce comodity on frontier worlds. However both Calvo and the Captain also knew just as well that they could not survive much longer without supplies. All that remained to be decided was just how they were going to get what they needed.

"Well well.....lookee what we got here......"

Calvo's eyes closed, his jaw tightening as he heard the distinctive sounds of weapons being cocked. From the tumbled rock and brush that ran parallel to the ridgeline, figures emerged, antique but deadly looking rifles, pistols, even bows, all trained at at him and the guardswomen. This was bad. Very fucking bad.......