Jagger's Problems

[Danny]

Jagger usually kept himself to himself. He didn’t leave his large hut much, except to fetch food and raw materials. Generally he didn’t pay much attention to what was going on in Pyke, and didn’t care much for politics or economics. He had noticed a marked increase in the number of sligs in the town, and had heard rumours of a killer on the loose, but he took the policy that if something didn’t bother him, he ignored it.

So it was with his trademark expressionlessness that he greeted the squad of sligs when they wandered in. He watched impassively as they made a great show of browsing through the weaponry, and discussing it amongst themselves. Then the one with the Sergeant’s stripes wandered to the door into the rear warehouse, and called over a couple of his colleagues, waving an arm at the huge space within.

Jagger decided he had had enough of this. “Can I help you?”

The Sergeant wandered over to the counter. “I expect you’ve heard about the tightening of policing in Pyke recently, yes?”

“No.”

The slig paused, recalculating what he should say. “Well, what with this killer on the loose, the Mayor felt it prudent to step up security in the area. Just until the killer has been caught.”

“Sounds sensible.”

“Well, the problem is, in order to do this, he invited 400 extra troops from Carthag to bolster the police force. We need a Barracks.” The Sergeant looked down at the seated mudokon. “The only building we’ve found so far that is anywhere near big enough is your Warehouse.”

“You want to use my warehouse as a Barracks? What about all my stock?”

The Sergeant laughed uncomfortably. “Well, as it happens, the new troops are a little short of decent weapons, so they will all be put to good use.”

Jagger stood up. “Now, hang on, you can’t just take away my stock from me, just like that! What’ll happen to my business?”

The Sergeant drew himself up to his full height – still a good head shorter than Jagger – and smiled his best menacing smile. “It’s all in a good cause, friend… And as for your business, we want to keep you on, as the Police Armourer. We wouldn’t want to lose someone of your skill…”

Jagger frowned and pushed his way towards the door. “I’m going to complain to the Mayor.” But he soon found his way barred by the sligs.

“Not that that would do you any good, but we don’t want you to leave this building, if it’s all the same to you…”

Jagger stiffened. “You’re imprisoning me in my own home?”

“We are keeping you under protective custody. Even if you ignore the Serial Killer, there are many dangerous people out there who want to gain some kind of power in Pyke. As the Weaponsmith to the City Police, you would be a prime target for assassins.”

“What if I don’t want to be the Police Weaponsmith?”

“Then your business will be confiscated, and you will be evicted from here.”

Jagger sagged. “Looks like I have no choice, then, doesn’t it…”

The Sergeant smiled.