Hookblade

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Able spent the morning in the square taking statements from anyone willing to give them. Oddly enough, one of these people was Tanner, who voluntarily approached Able while he was trying to convince the thirteen prisoners to share their experiences about the riot and being inside the barricade.

"Well, congratulations, Dr. Deathwish, I see you figured out how to stay out of the fight!" He seemed almost jovial.

"I did," Able could only agree as he turned to him. "What tactical significance could the blockade have had for the Resistance?"

"None, but like the Captain said, can't very well leave their own without soiling their reputation. Their own finally gave them enough rope to hang themselves, eh?" Tanner reached towards the nearest prisoner and ruffled his hair.

The poor man flinched but held his seat and kept his gaze solidly on the ground.

"So what happened?" Able pulled Tanner's attention back, and the senior deputy gamely confirmed much of what Able had seen, adding the knowledge that the attack began an hour before the scheduled watch change, before launching into his battle with the Shadow.

"So I have my mace, yeah?" Tanner waved an imaginary one. "And he's coming at me full tilt while I'm swinging and his arm comes up like so—" Able almost pulled away but thought better of vexing Tanner, and so he let Tanner pose him then mime smashing him in the ribs with a mace. "—and so he's coming in so fast and I just nailed him, right here. You could hear the crunch, then the wheezing when his lung collapsed. I got the bastard."

Able carefully inhaled as if he'd been actually struck. He had imagined it that vividly. "So, where's the body?"

"We're still searching the wreckage, but they might've dragged it off in the confusion. So far we've got five Bors dead, two more that might join them before the day's end. But the Shadow?—no man can survive a collapsed ribcage."

"All right," Able said instead of arguing. "Were there any casualties on—among the enforcers?" He couldn't say "our side," for some reason. Maybe because the prisoners were looking on.

"No, and I don't have a number for the injured off the top of my head either. The important thing is we didn't lose any weapons."

"Yes," Able agreed. This conflict was awful enough without the Resistance getting a hold of any firearms. "What happens now?"

"Now I've got reports to oversee, and you—" and he emphasized this by poking Able in the chest, "stay out of people's way."

"It's what I'm good at."

"It's really not, but you might be getting better at it." Tanner took his leave.

Able watched him go and, after a moment, mused aloud, "I never imagined that man had a good mood, but it's no better than his bad."

Two of the prisoners glanced askance at him before looking at the ground again. Were any of them were Venture Bay? ...was one of the dead or dying men? He crouched before them.

"My name is Able Houser, and I'm writing a chronicle: a record of what's been happening here. You don't have to answer, but I'd like to ask you all about what happened in the blockade."

"Piss off, Bander," growled the nearest one.

"That's one 'no.'" Able nodded to him then looked at the others, half of whom were avoiding his gaze. "Why riot? What was the point of the barricade?"

"This is our city," one seated two down replied with a scowl. "We don't want you here."

"Would you like a name attached to that statement, or would you prefer to remain anonymous?"

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