<div align="center">(http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/anIrishlad/1600x900_20772_Frontier_Town_2d_sci_fi_concept_art_town_picture_image_digital_art_zpspo8aqhf2.jpg)</div>The holographic screen crackled and fuzzed, as Fredrik Hagerstrom, Chief of Police for Freud's Slip, tried to check on the approach of the maglev train. An annoyed, long suffering but unsurprised look crossed his weather worn face, as he gave the projector a slap, to see if that would clear up the picture. It didn’t of course, it wasn’t the equipment causing the problems but the environment. Either the wind was stirring up the fine sand of the region, up on the roof of the police station, which would affect the receiver up there or there was something up in the atmosphere, messing with the signal from Sane.<br/><br/>Glaring at the frozen image of what was suppose to be a live feed of current trains, the lawman shook his head, before shutting off the screen. Standing up from the desk in the foyer, he checked his uniform. Most of the time, Fredrik just wore civilian clothing, with his badge pinned on but with the promised arrival of new officers, he had chosen to wear the uniform of the Colonial Police; a tan long sleeved shirt, darker brown trousers, brown boots, a tactical belt around his waist and a tan field cap.<br/><br/>As the Police Chief went to leave, he paused and glanced at the two doors leading into the fort like police station. The first, set in the back wall of the foyer, went into the barracks, which was a large open room, with enough beds and lockers for a half a dozen officers, although more could be housed there, if they were willing to double up or hot bunk. The barracks also had a reasonable kitchen facility and a large locker, which served as an armory, along with a bathroom, who’s shower could hold four people, along there weren’t any stalls, just spigots from the walls. There was also access to the roof and the cellar, where the generator and storage was.<br/><br/>The second door, which was on the left, for anyone walking into the station, lead to the cells. There was a large cell, right off the door, which served more as a drunk tank or at least just someplace to hold troublemakers overnight. Further back were single cells, each designed with thick, solid walls, with a small window in the door. These cells would be used to hold criminals until transport to Sane could be arranged, for trial.<br/><br/>Normally, the mayor of Freud's Slip would come around in the morning, to let everyone out of the drunk tank. However, Fredrik couldn’t remember the soft buzz of the door alarm and it was his habit to check, before leaving to walk to the town. However, he wasn’t sure if he had the time today, as he was unable to check on the maglev. For a moment, he hesitated, before rolling his eyes, able to shake the feeling that he needed to take a look. Striding across the foyer, he pressed his thumb against the scanner for the door control panel. There was a sharp hiss, as the door slide open and he glanced inside. The lights were dim inside and in the gloom, sat a single figure, the last remainder of the nearly twenty he had dragged out of the bars and brothels.<br/><br/>“Special event Chief” asked the figure, in the voice of Travis Rhodes, a rather troublesome drunkard, who seemed to get himself arrested every time he came down from his claim.<br/><br/>“More of us fucking cops arriving” answered Fredrik, a mocking smile on his lips, as he used at least one of the terms Travis had called him last night, “Why are you still in here?”<br/><br/>“That bitch of a Mayor left me in here”<br/><br/>“And I’m sure you were being a model citizen” replied the Chief, as he opened the cell, “Now get out of my town.”<br/><br/>“Fuck you Hag”<br/><br/>“Yeah yeah” said Fredrik, waving one hand, as if to shoo away the words, as he used his hand to firmly push the drunk out of the police station and into the street. There was a startled and disproving squeaking, the man stumbled out and a pair of Frills (http://img01.deviantart.net/3046/i/2014/139/d/6/horntail_full_image_by_atanderson-d7j17px.jpg), local mostly bipedal rodent-like creatures, bounded away, the flaps of skin around their necks, which gave them their name, expended in anger. Normally a dusty dun color, both were sporting the bright yellows and blues of their mating colors. No doubt a pair of males, trying to mark the doorway’s shade as their territory. He would have to be watchful for the next couple of weeks, to make sure the station didn’t get an infestation of the little scavengers.<br/><br/>Turning back inside quickly, to activate the message hologram, just in case anyone needed to report a crime,  he headed out. The sun beat down on the dusty, unpaved main road, without a cloud in the sky. Small dust clouds stirred with each step, adding to the heat waves rising from the hard baked earth. The only shade came from the stores, bars, brothels, fortress-like warehouses for the minerals being mined and sold, along with the bank. Hoverbikes hummed down the street, as other all terrain vehicles rolled along. Others rode beasts, either some of the native Sand Deer (http://img03.deviantart.net/b341/i/2014/340/5/f/beast_of_burden_by_zhrayde-d7fkbjo.jpg), which had been tamed or the rare imported horse.<br/><br/>The Chief walked, stepping from shadow to shadow, until he reached the edge of the town. He could see the maglev station, maybe a ten minute walk in the heat and a rising cloud of dust in the  distance, announcing an approaching train. Even as he watched the dust, there was a bellow nearby and he turned to look at the recently erected series of stalls and pens, just on the other side of the station. Now that the town had a rail link and now longer relied on convoys of ground vehicles, local ranchers and more nomadic herdsman were starting to arrive, looking to load livestock on the trains, to send back to Sane. There was now a growing and rather shaky looking stockyard outside of the town, sometimes filled with creatures, which were much like cattle, called Beaked Bison (http://img11.deviantart.net/d3ef/i/2015/127/5/1/re_em_by_silver_iruka-dygtgm.jpg). While the freshness of the meat in town had improved and the options for meals was broadened, the town’s smell was worsening.<br/><br/>“Well Hagman” came the wizened voice, from behind the Chief, “How many fine new lawmen are we getting in my sleepy little town.”<br/><br/>“I wasn’t told Mayor” answered Fredrik, turning to see the short, older woman standing behind him. Anyone seeing Marie Sugita wouldn’t mistake her for a kindly grandmother. The Mayor of Freud's Slip, while barely coming to the shoulder of the average man looked as weathered and hard as any other settler, who had lasted long on the harsh world. She looked like someone had carved her from gnarled old tree roots, with skin like leather. Like the Chief, she was dressed in her formal attire, a long skirt of blue, with what looked rather like the top half of a woman’s business suit, also blue and a broad brimmed hat of faded ta