Sanctioned 4

Sanctioned

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Commissioned by Ichypa

Wordcount: 1500

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Unfortunately, a cube of meat can’t be interrogated, so further investigation was required. While I understood the necessity of proper investigation, and the need to set up a process that would result in less meat cubes in the future, I personally felt it wasn’t good that the person who made the meat cube is involved in the investigation i.e. myself.

Quite frankly, the quiet, simple American town would very much like me to be burnt at the stake, then scatter my ashes across the Thames for killing their vigilante protector, despite the fact their vigilante protector had intended to kill me.

There was no trust in me from the local populace. Americans enjoyed a hands-off governing structure before a tenth of humanity became walking, talking superweapons. Their stateside governments collapsed beneath the weight, but their decentralized, federal, and national government didn’t. A few acquaintances of mine would say they were shed like ablative armor, but there isn’t a country in the world that wouldn’t have done the same, if they had the ability, during that time.

Anyway, the end of my little reminisce is rather simple: the population of individuals who were willing to gather up their tough guys to bully me out without a hello now actually, personally hated me. It was understandable. I’d been the cause of their protector’s demise. What happened, how it happened, and why didn’t matter. A stranger walked into their home one day, killed one of their own, and then wanted to convince them that she’s here to help, all with a different face and an accent an ocean away.”

The situation was monumentally buggered to absolute shit.

…

The federally-paid accommodations was a shack with running water, electricity, and a bed on the outskirts of town. The whole community banded together, looked at the requirements for what the government mandated they’d pay for me being housed, and went to work. They took a mobile home, picked it up, fixed it up, and set it at the outermost limit of their township’s boundaries. So, I was atop a hill, with a septic tank attached to my hut, and a diesel engine and water tank that’d get filled up in the morning.

Were I smart gal, I’d just sit my arse down, complain to my superiors everyday, and be on my way without leaving the hut once. It’d probably be appreciated by the town, if I just went and fucked off. I’d certainly appreciate just fucking off somewhere I wouldn’t be hated. However, life isn’t about what anyone wanted, but the will of those who lived up high.

And, those who lived up high didn’t see anything wrong my Sanctioned turning an Unsanctioned into a meat cube, when my life was endangered.

Complaining about my situation would only result in an absolute shitshow covering the tow, courtesy of the world’s only Hyperpower, who also happened to control the seas, the orbitals, and had the only professional army of superhumans… which happened to be backed by three other branches of the military that were very fond of not of anyone Unsanctioned.

Were I just some no-name officer, I could probably pull it off without much of a fuss, but I had international attention. The world was trying to fix itself, pull itself together from the brink, and the program I was part of now was a big part of that. Normal, skilled investigators working with Sanctioned superhumans. A global effort to start policing lands without governments, but weren’t wastelands ruled by superhuman warlords.

Investigators were in short supply, Dublin owed a debt, and so I was in the American Midwest trying to handle a town that hated me, after I couldn’t do my job properly. 

The Americans had a vested interested in making me look good, so that the program would keep going and they could pull their boys back home, so they could deal with the bigger threats. 

The simple mathematics of it all was that I needed to bring good results out of the mess… or the mess and town never existed in the first place, so there were no bad results for me to report.

They didn’t tell me that, but I could read between the lines.

What’s a few hundred lives, compared to a few hundred thousand, tired boys who want to go home after years of deployment fighting on foreign soil? That’s not even to mention the political and economic capital involved. 

So, no matter what I wanted, getting up and getting to work was my only option.

“We are leaving now?” I was tempted to go alone, but it was lack of supervision in the first place that got my Sanctioned working. Trying to not hold onto the “leash” resulted in at least two people dead, so that course of action needed correcting. “Officer?”

“Until I tell you otherwise, you will be operating only under my direct command, understood?” I knew every directive that every Sanctioned had to follow. Most were made for wartime, so that they could act with impunity and pull the world back kicking and screaming from tipping over into utter madness.  The safest course of action, so that my partner wouldn’t turn every confrontation into a fight he’d win, was to take full responsibility of him. “Your priority, even if I’m in danger, is to comply with my orders. Only if I’m incapable of giving orders, will you return to following your directives. Verify my orders, Sanctioned.”

“Direct command order acknowledged. Parameters acknowledged. This Sanctioned will obey all orders.” Bless his heart. He was a good kid. Saying those words had his brow wrinkle, his smile turn into a frown, and his eyes glance at me with worry. Despite his propensity towards violence, a trait all Sanctioned shared, he was a good kid. All the ones assigned to Investigators were. Those who didn’t care about human lives were sent abroad. It’s just that having a good nature can’t really overcome years of mental and physical conditioning from birth. “Please, do not place yourself in situations where I must rely on directives with that order active.”

“I promise that I won’t.” I managed to smile while I lied to him. It was an easier lie than most I’ve told him. Unlike all the other lies, it was for his sake, instead of mine or others. If this situation turns sour, then he’ll at least be considered blameless. If I couldn’t fix what was happening here, spare this whole town from retribution and solve the need for a vigilante to arise in the first place, I’ll at least save him. “You’ll see. Don’t worry about it. I worked the beat in more dangerous times, without someone like you beside me, you know?”

It was still a damn lie

…

I hadn’t even bothered to remember the town’s name. And, as fortune would have it, the town didn’t have many billboards up. Lacking in luck, my best bet at finding out what was probably common information was asking one of the many denizens who hated my guts.

“Fuck off.”

“Eat shit.”

“Run back home, bitch.”

The responses I got from the regular passerby were fair. Surprisingly, despite being a tough town that wore it’s heart on its sleeve, the closest to conflict I’d encountered was someone spitting on my boot. Being effectively excommunicated and exiled was bad, but certainly not the worse that I expected.

Especially when the whole town was already handling the fuckup I’d made.

Trees were being felled and hauled around on sleds and tractors. People were putting up walls, building up small earth works, and hauling supplies outside of their homes. They were setting up for a seige, renovating old towers, and setting up armed patrols. There were people flagrantly using their powers, but only to help in construction efforts and put their town together. I gave them a warning, but the official stance was to let people use their powers, if no property or people are damaged. 

Or, taking the law into one’s hands. 

What I was seeing told me a story that none of them ever share with me.

History carried through in the present. What I was seeing now wasn’t composed in the middle of the night, but plans made and implemented years ago. This was how this small town weathered the rise of petty warlords and self-declared kings, after their state’s armed forces and police fell apart. The earthworks and wooden walls won’t do much against truly strong superhumans, but a well-patrolled, well-fortified position staffed by people with their families behind them are defenses that are quite strong. 

It reminded me of home, though we killed their only source of hope, the man who chose to stay away, attract attention, and fight away from the village any fight that would’ve went their way. 

So, I had to solve their problem. Even if I fixed things up to a modest degree, to the point where the Americans found no need to liquidate the town, I’d be leaving them defenseless in the frontiers of civilization. 

The only way forward was to handle this situation perfectly, to the point my achievements cannot be denied, and the whole region was stabilized.

And, I could’ve avoided it all if I’d managed to talk one man down.

A/N: Mostly expository for this chapter. More characters and interactions coming.