your work, badly I might add.”
He smiled in response.
"Let me be absolutely clear. This is my town, my world. Whatever deal you have made with the people of this town is null and void, unless authorised by myself."
"These people are civilians. They aren't under your command. How they spend their money is their business."
"Yes, up to a point. But as the elected representative, I have a responsibility to uphold the law and quell any and all uprisings."
"Elected? I think some folk here might have something to say about that."
"You know elections are always about picking the right man for the job." He pointed to himself, "I'm the right man for the job."
Mason shook his head. He knew there was no point in pushing it.
"Now, I have a simple proposition for you. Return to your ship, where you can leave with no further consequences. Or, be charged with four counts of murder, and several more of assault. You will spend thirty years in prison unless you are killed during capture. Your crew will suffer a similar fate, except for that pretty girl I hear so much about, and your ship will be sold for scrap."
Mason was silent as he studied the man. He was growing angrier by the second, but his chief fear was that Viktor would be tipped over the edge and start shooting.
"Well, what'll it be, Captain?"
"Colonel, that's a real good offer there, but you see; ship’s broken, and my pilot’s missing. Till that's resolved, I ain't going anywhere, and seeing as that is the case, I intend to make some money while I'm on this world."
Volkov's calm smile turned to a frown. Mason could see he had grown used to getting everything he wanted, and it pleased him to see the discomfort he was bringing the bullying Colonel.
"I could have you shot dead where you stand," he spat.
Mason rose up proud and defiantly to stand tall.
"Likewise. One of my guys in there, he'd happily kill you even if it meant my death. Your men fire a single shot, and you won't live long enough to hear a second."
"What do you think this place is? Some circus where you can come in and make a handful of credits, and leave as you please?"
He looked past Mason to address the people of the town. Some were watching from windows in the shops and rooms above, but he knew many more were hunkered down in hearing distance as well.
"You made a big mistake hiring these guns! If you carry on down this path, I promise you will regret it. I have never used violence against the people of this town, but if you persist, I will have no choice. You will suffer death, imprisonment, and the loss of your loved ones!"
He turned to walk away but stopped after a few paces and looked back.
"Don't die for a cause that doesn't exist, Captain."
Mason didn't respond but only waited for him to leave. Volkov sighed. He hadn't got the response he wanted.
"I'll tell you what. You have twenty-four hours grace to think this over. I give you my word that we will not enter this town again in that time. But when I do, and find you are still here, I will kill you. Do you and your friends a favour, get out while you can."
"Good day, Colonel," he replied.
Volkov climbed aboard, and Mason's attention turned to Hunter. The Sergeant was now armoured up and ready for war, and he had wide crazy eyes that wanted to murder Mason, there and then.
"Listen to the Colonel, Captain," he said. "You don't want another beating, because next time you won't survive it."
He spit on the ground and climbed aboard one of the trucks. The column turned and left. Viktor stepped up to his side, still clutching his rifle.
"Should have let me shoot him."
"You know I couldn't."
"I really don't."
Mason lifted up his comms unit. "All clear, gather up, we got some thinking to do."
A couple of minutes later they were once again at the table in Kaper's bar. It seemed to have become their new home.
"Really think he'll give us twenty-four hours?"
"Yes, I do, Ben."
"Why?"
"Because he wants to avoid a fight as much as the next person, Erin."
"Yeah, right," Viktor grumbled.
"Hey, you might fight for fun, but we do it for money.”
"Your loss, Hughes."
"The Captain is onto something. Volkov is trying to muscle us out without a fight. He's done his best to intimidate us, now he'll want us to sleep and sweat on it. He's