Off into the Sunset

Co-Authored by Walruseater and WinterOnasi. Artwork by Farlander.

Dust swirled around Sheriff Carth Onasi's boots as he pushed through the saloon doors. He tipped his hat to the ladyfolk in general, but didn't meet anyone's eyes. He completely ignored the giggling and chattering of the dancing girls, and sat down heavily at the bar.

'The usual, Clem.' There was little inflection in his voice.

A sarsaparilla slid down the bar, and he caught it with one hand and slid his money back along the bar with his other.

'Never off duty, are you?' A gentle voice sounded to his right. He didn't look up.

'No, ma'am. Town needs a sober sheriff.'

Bastila Shan pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and sighed. Her complicated hairstyle didn't move as she sat down on a stool next to him.

'She'll be along, Sheriff. Nothing's going to get my sister down. Before you know it, she'll be back in town with the gang, smelling like she always does with one mean cattle-rustler's head in a canvas bag.' The innkeeper wrinkled her nose at the thought.

Finally the sheriff looked up, a small smile on his face. 'She never was one for fancy Tarisian perfume, was she?'

That earned him a dignified snort from the delicate innkeeper. She stood and put a hand on his shoulder, then swept away in a froth of skirts to make the rounds of her regular customers.

Right at that moment, the door opened to reveal Jolee Bindo, who strode in and sat at the bar, close to where Carth was seated. "I'll have a whiskey, if you please," he said. He was wearing a black cowboy hat, a dark plaid jacket, and a pair of blue jeans. His also wore long boots which went halfway to his knees.

A waitress slid a whiskey down the bar, and Jolee caught it as easily as Carth had caught his drink a moment ago. Then the older man slid the money toward the waitress and called out, "Keep the change."

Right at that moment, Jolee turned his head and spotted Carth. "Well, hello there sonny," he said with a smile. 'Long time no see.'

"So you finally notice me, old-timer?" Carth smiled.

"Bah, don't start with that," Jolee said. "I may old, but I'm perfectly attuned to my surroundings. Nothing escapes my notice." He glanced about. "Uh, where's my drink?"

"It's in your hand," Carth said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Oh. So it is." Jolee sat back, and took a long drink from his mug until it was half empty. Then he let out a long, content sigh. "I've heard tell that Revan has been spotted wandering through these parts," he said off-handedly.

"She has?" Carth said, perking up. "Where was she seen?"

"I caught her tracks a few miles to the south, and I heard from some ranchers down that way she's hot on the trail of some cattle-rustlers who've been causing them some problems. But some of the folk up this way are worried that she may be getting in a little over her head."

Carth shook his head in exasperation. "I told her not to try to be a heroine. Canderous Ordo and his gang are my problem, not hers."

"Pffft, your problems are her problems. She's your gal. And, if I may say so, you two were made for each other." Jolee tipped his head back and swallowed the rest of his drink in one huge gulp. Then he put the mug down and shoved it away. "Another, please," he said. The waitress returned, slid another mug down to him and then took away the empty mug. "This one's on the house," she said.

"Well, thank you," Jolee said, and winked at Carth. "Works every time. All you have to do is tell them to keep the change."

Carth laughed and clapped the old trapper on the back. 'You always did have a way with the ladies, Bindo.' He finished off his drink and stood. 'Let me know if you hear any more about Revan and the girls.'

'I will, I know where to find you. Did I ever tell you 'bout the time...'

Jolee went on with his story, as the barkeep and several waitresses rolled their eyes. Carth pushed his way back through the swinging doors, chuckling. He stopped to pat the old bloodhound lounging on the porch, Jolee's faithful Yeller. Carth always felt better about the world when Jolee Bindo and Ol' Yeller were in town. The old man put up a clueless front, but he was sharp. You didn't make it to his age out here in the wilderness unless you had some wits and some skills. If ole Jolee said Revan was nearby, Carth didn't have long to wait.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Revan peered through the underbrush, straining to catch sight of the men around a campfire in the mountains. Juhani had tracked them for two days without stopping to rest; finally the rustlers had made camp in a deep canyon, hidden from the main trails by a copse of pine.

Zaalbar growled at the scent of food cooking. 'Mission! Shut that creature up or we'll be spotted,' Revan hissed.

Revan had never had any regrets about rescuing the lovely blue-skinned girl and her cat-like protector from that horrible circus side-show, but sometimes she wished Mission's constantly hungry companion would wander back into the woods where he belonged. Grizzlies weren't the friendliest company, and he ate more than the three women combined.

Mission shook her blue ponytails in irritation, but she soothed Zaalbar with a pat on the nose. 'Hush, Big Z. We'll be dividing up their rations soon enough,' she whispered. Mission pulled out her bedroll and snuggled down in it, the giant bear curling up around her for warmth and protection.

When Revan was certain Mission was okay, she tied Ebon Hawk and Cathar tight to a branch. The horses pawed the ground, but stayed quiet. Then Revan signaled to Juhani, and the two circled around the gang's camp in opposite directions. Revan took up a post behind a fallen pine; tucking her long, dark hair up under her hat so she could see better in the darkness. Three, four...five big men, total. Piece of cake, she thought. Especially since it didn't look like Hunter Killer was with them tonight. The big Indian was the only real threat in the whole gang, besides Ordo himself.

Revan tucked her legs up underneath her, content to wait until the men were asleep. Juhani would take out whoever they left on watch, and then the fun would begin.

Revan thought back to the night Sheriff Onasi had proposed to her, on her birthday nearly a year ago. She was certainly no longer that blushing farmgirl. Canderous Ordo and his gang had used her birthday party as a cover, stealing her family's herd and killing her father and her brother Malak in cold blood. Revan and Bastila had struggled to make ends meet since then. Tonight was her night for revenge.

All of a sudden, a shot rang out. Revan could see the men in the camp spreading out, snatching up their arms. Oh no, they've spotted Juhani! She whipped her pistol out of its holster and cautiously leaned around the tree, and fired at one of the rustlers. The sound of her shot seemed to echo throughout the camp as the bullet hit it's target, and the big man fell to the ground.

>From the way Juhani was favoring her left leg as she moved, Revan assumed that she had been hit. But the woman courageously stood her ground and fired another round, as Revan continued to fire from the opposite direction. The four remaining men took cover in their camp, two of them taking up a position behind a large rock while the remaining two crouched behind a bush.

Juhani's pistol ran out of ammo, and it seemed that she had none left in her pockets. She began to limp back in the direction of the horses, and Revan decided that it would be best if they withdrew. But she was determined to provide cover for Juhani until the other woman made it to safety.

Revan continued to fire, and backed away slowly through the trees, making sure their attention was still on her. She was the more serious threat at the moment anyway, having a loaded pistol and a good aim.

But as she backed away, they suddenly stopped firing, which puzzled her. She doubted they were out of ammo, and she wasn't out of firing range yet. So why had they stopped?

She cried out suddenly as something poked her in the back, between the shoulder blades. She whirled around to face her attacker, but tripped on a protruding tree root and fell. Her pistol flew from her grasp, leaving her completely defenseless. She stared up at him, narrowing her eyes, unable to make out much more than the outline of the giant figure she saw looming over her.

"Statement: I believe the appropriate phrase would be, 'busted!'"

Revan grimaced when she realized who it was. Hunter Killer. She cursed herself for not being more aware of her surroundings, for not realizing that even if she couldn't see him, he was definitely around here somewhere.

The seven-foot native was known in gun-fighting circles as HK-47, because of the gun he always carried. He'd taken a .45 Colt Peacemaker revolver pistol and modified it to hold .47 bullets, unstable and deadly. No one knew the source of his exotic ammo. The revolver bore the dents and scars of gun battles fought and won, time and time again.

Revan's heart thudded in her chest and she stayed where she was, trying desperately to think out a plan. It was too dark to grope around for her pistol, and though she was fit, Hunter Killer had 18 inches on her and at least a hundred pounds. Surprise would have to do.

'You need to work on your English, pardner,' Revan drawled. 'You're usin' too many words.' With that, she kicked his feet out from under him. The big man went down with an oomph, and she scrambled away as fast as she could. Light on her feet and very swift, Revan almost got away.

'Goin' somewhere, girl?' Canderous Ordo stepped in front of her, his shotgun aimed at her chest.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mission tended to Juhani's wound as best she could with so little light. Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed the older woman's thigh and she could still ride. As soon as Revan got back, they'd head for town to see if a doctor was available, and get Sheriff Onasi. They'd get a posse together to hunt for Ordo and his gang, then maybe they could finally live happily ever after.

'Ouch!' Juhani hissed. 'Please, pay attention!'

'Sorry,' Mission shrugged. 'Usually Revan does the doctorin'.'

'Yes, vell, I vish she vould hurry up.'

The two women waited, dozing fitfully, until sunup. The gang's camp was clearly abandoned, and Revan was nowhere to be seen. Mission helped Juhani up onto Cathar, and then climbed onto Ebon Hawk herself. Zaalbar chuffed hungrily beside her. They scouted the area carefully, but still found no trace of Revan. Juhani swayed in the saddle.

'You okay to ride?' Mission asked her worriedly.

'I vill make it back to town, if ve go now,' the cat-like woman responded. Normally lithe and very posture-conscious, Juhani was slumped over the saddle horn.

Mission hesitated for a moment, then kicked Ebon Hawk into action. 'Let's go, then.'

They rode carefully to the main trail, before hightailing it out of the foothills. By the time they hit the outskirts of town, Juhani was barely hanging on. Blood seeped out from under Mission's hasty dressing, soaking through Juhani's riding pants. They left Zaalbar back in the trees and headed into town.

Sheriff Onasi met them at the end of Main Street, just in time to catch Juhani as she fell out of the saddle.

'Glad to see ya, Sheriff,' Mission said gratefully. 'We run into a heap o' trouble back there.'

'You see to the horses while I get her to the doctor. Then you can tell me all about it, Mission.' Carth was all business, though Mission knew he was desperate to hear the details.

'Yes, sir.' Mission gathered up the reins and headed to the livery.

Carth carried Juhani to the doctor and left her in his care. Thankfully he had no other patients at the moment and could tend to her injuries right away. After the Sheriff was certain she would be all right, he left the doctor's office and went in search of Mission. He found her waiting just outside. Apparently she had finished tending to the horses and was anxiously waiting for him.

"Will she be okay?" the girl asked, a worried frown crinkling her pretty blue features.

Carth nodded. "Doc Forn says she'll need stitches, but she should be all right. Now, would you mind telling me what happened out there?"

Mission eagerly told him everything that had happened, and Carth's eyes narrowed slightly with anger. His mouth thinned, becoming a grim line across his features. "I'll go round up some boys," he said evenly. "You stay here and look after the horses, and check on Juhani."

With that, Sheriff Onasi turned and walked toward the livery where his horse, Dustil, was. He walked in and approached the horse, patting him on the nose. "Easy there, Dusty," he said, calling the horse by its nickname. "We're going to round up the boys, and then we're going to rescue Revan. She's gone off and gotten herself into trouble, again." He often talked to the black stallion, and sometimes it seemed like the horse understood what he was saying. He proceeded to put the saddle on the horse, murmuring softly as he did so. Finally, after he adjusted the reins, he climbed onto his steed's back, and nudged him a bit with his heels. "Go on, git," he said, and rode out.

His first stop was the saloon on the first floor of Mistress Shan's inn. Carth found the young innkeeper and told her what had happened to her sister and her friends. Bastila went pale, but immediately got to work putting together a room for Juhani to recover in. The cat-like warrior would be in good hands with Bastila.

Carth nodded to Clem, the bartender, then moved over to the dark table in the far corner of the establishment. Pulling out a chair and straddling it backwards, Sheriff Onasi tipped his hat in mock congeniality. 'Little early for these kinda activities, eh, boys?'

Three of the poker players at the table beat a hasty retreat. They left everything on the table, including their coins and drinks. Carth chuckled. Sometimes he had that effect on people.

'Go 'way, Sheriff. I didn't do nuthin'.' The lone remaining occupant looked at the sheriff suspiciously from under the brim of his black hat. A dangerous man, the scruffy gambler was dressed entirely in black. A holster rested on each hip, a full bandolier was looped over each shoulder under a black ribbed-leather jacket.

'You're not in trouble, Rand. I'm here to see if you'd reconsider my offer.'

Atton Rand snorted, gathering up the deck of cards and scooping the coins on the table into a pouch. 'You've asked me three times to be your deputy, and I've turned ya down every time. What makes you think this time'd be any different?'

'Ordo's back in town. He's-- he's got Revan.' Carth's voice caught in his throat.

A look of concern crossed the gambler's features. In better times, he'd been a hand at the Shan family ranch; he'd watched the girls grow up. But times had been tough for everyone since the gang's attack on the ranch. He wasn't sure he wanted to mess with Ordo and his gang. He said nothing, just continued to clean off the table and finish off his drink.

'Come on, Rand! You're the best shot in the territory. I can't take on the whole gang alone!' Frustration was evident in the sheriff's voice.

Atton sighed. The man had a point. 'Fine, but I want a shiny gold badge, just like yours.'

Carth rolled his eyes and handed Atton a small star with 'Deputy' stamped on it. They pushed through the double doors and out into bright afternoon sun.

'Who else we takin' on this suicide mission?' Atton asked as he swung up into the saddle.

Carth grinned. 'Why, your best friend!' With that, he turned Dustil around and headed for the white clapboard schoolhouse.

Atton groaned, but followed. When they got to the other end of town, they pulled up the reins and Carth slid out of his saddle.

'What, ain'tcha comin' with me?' teased the sheriff. He knew very well that Atton didn't get along with the schoolmaster. Atton pulled out one of his pistols and began to clean it.

Carth, still chuckling, pushed into the schoolroom. The schoolmaster spotted him, and handed off the lesson to one of the older female students. Carth motioned for him to join him outside.

'Can I help you, Sheriff Onasi?' the big schoolmaster asked graciously as he came down the steps. There'd never been a man more different from Atton Rand than Mical. Well dressed, well-spoken, popular with the ladies; the young man practically radiated light and love and learning.

'I'm recruiting deputies, Disciple. I've been called on a mission.' The sheriff tossed him another little star pin.

The younger man blushed, turning the little gold emblem over in his hand. 'You don't have to call me that, Sheriff Onasi. I'm no longer a preacher.'

Carth laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 'I know! That's why I'm here. Preacher can't help me take on Canderous Ordo, but maybe the schoolmaster can. It's been rumored you handle a rifle right nicely. Any truth to the rumor?'

'I was only a chaplain in the Union Army, Sheriff.' Mical hesitated. 'But...I did receive basic training. I guess I could handle a rifle.'

'Sounds good enough to me,' Carth shrugged. 'Saddle up and meet us back at my station.'

'But the students--'

'Will just love a holiday,' the sheriff said with finality as he swung up onto Dustil. Excitement and dread filled him. Either he was going to save Revan, rid the world of a large bunch of mean hombres, and come off a hero; or he was going to take some good men to their deaths. Carth and Atton turned and rode back to Main Street in a cloud of dust.

---

Revan glanced about, eyeing her captors warily. Her features were hard and cold, a perfect mask for the fear and anger she felt inside. Her only comfort was that she knew for a fact that Juhani and Mission had gotten away. She'd overheard the men talking about it.

The gang members had tied her up and thrown her across the back of Hunter Killer's pony, and the next thing she knew, the horse was moving at a full gallop. It was the worst possible way to ride a horse. The only thing keeping her on the animal was Hunter Killer's strong hand gripping her bonds from the back, while she laid face-down, feeling every movement and jerk the horse made, her teeth rattling nearly all the way.

She had no idea how long the ride lasted, but it seemed like hours. Finally, Hunter Killer let out a shout and his steed lurched forward, making Revan feel like she was going to get thrown off. Hunter Killer hopped down from the horse, dragging her with him.

They proceeded to set up camp in this new area, a clearing that was nicely hidden from view, surrounded by thick trees. The late afternoon sun washed the entire scene in gold.

Revan was currently in a sitting position, and an uncomfortable one at that. A dirty handkerchief had been roughly shoved in her mouth to keep her quiet. Her back was pressed against a tree trunk; her arms encircled it behind her. The rope chafed where her wrists were tied. Overriding her discomforts was the excruciating pain of her ribcage from the brutal ride on HK's pony.

She hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since she'd been captured, and she tried her best not to stare at the men as they cooked and ate near the campfire. She would not show any weakness whatsoever. She stared down at her feet, and closed her eyes. She could not sleep, so did not try. She was thinking deeply.

Carth will surely come after me, she thought. He would learn that she had been captured as soon as Juhani and Mission returned to town. He's probably rounding up the boys right now. She sighed. If only Juhani and I had been more careful... if Carth, or anyone else gets killed, it will be all my fault.

A slight commotion caused her to look up. She saw someone coming into the camp, and realized it was Ordo himself. I guess he's finished with his nap. Who would've thought big boys like him took afternoon naps? Her mouth quirked upward at the thought, despite the fact that it made her mouth hurt more.

Hunter Killer had finished his meal some time ago, and was presently cleaning and polishing his pistol. When he saw Ordo approaching, he hastily got to his feet and gave a mock-salute. "Query: Shall I interrogate the prisoner now?" he asked.

Ordo grabbed a whiskey bottle from his pocket and, tipping his head back, took a long swig. Then he put the cover back on and slipped it back into his pocket, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. "You'd better watch yerself," he said, glaring at HK-47. "I don't tolerate no disrespect. And, what do you mean, an interrogation? What would I want to interrogate her for?"

"Statement: An interrogation merely for the sake of an interrogation is quite exhilarating," Hunter Killer said. "To extract information from a captive in a painful, excruciating manner--Oh, what a pleasure it is!" HK-47 seemed to tremble with joy at the very idea.

Ordo grunted. 'Where'd you learn to talk like that? I ain't never heard no Apache ramble on the way you do.' He pulled a gleaming knife from the sheath at his belt. "Anyway, I have no interest in interrogating her. I intend to make an example of her. I'll show people what'll happen to them if they try to cross me."

He walked over to the tree Revan was tied against and shot her a wicked smile. He leaned over her, brandishing the knife menacingly. She flinched as the blade flashed and came down at her face, but she quickly realized that he was merely cutting her gag off. She let out a soft sigh of relief as the rank piece of cloth dropped out of her mouth, but never stopped glaring at Canderous with icy hate.

'You ain't exactly the picture of a damsel in distress, you know that?' His breath was hot and sour on her face, but she didn't turn away. 'Look at them cold eyes.'

Ordo stepped back in a cool, composed manner. He took a cigarra from his pocket and put it in his mouth. Never taking his eyes off Revan, he took a small pack of matches from his other pocket, struck the match against the back of the pack, then lit the cigarra. Grinning, he took a couple of puffs while he extinguished the flame of the match between his fore-finger and thumb. "Imagine how dear old Sheriff Onasi will react, when he finds you here. Once we're, uh, through with you, that is." He sneered, slipping the matches back into his pocket.

Revan spoke calmly. "If you do anything at all to me," she said, "he will never give up on finding you. He will keep hunting you until you're nothing more than a corpse lying at his feet."

She met his intense gaze, refusing to flinch or even to blink. Actually I'm afraid for Carth, she thought. If he finds me wounded or dead... She refused to let the thought form in her mind. She remembered what happened when the Karath Gang, lead by an outlaw named Saul, came into town many years ago. Saul and his boys had rustled cattle and sheep, and killed several people. One of them had been Carth's beloved sister Morgana.

Revan had been in her late teens when that happened, and she still remembered hearing about how Carth rounded up the boys and did not stop until Saul and everyone in the Karath gang was dead. Perhaps that was what helped bring Carth and Revan together; they had each lost someone very close to them to senseless greed and violence.

Revan forced her mind back to the present, thinking fast. If she could convince him that she would be a valuable hostage... "Think about it. The Sheriff's probably rounded up a posse already, and you can bet your horses that he's on his way out here. I wouldn't be surprised if he's brought out the bloodhounds. If you don't want to be taken in by Sheriff Onasi, you'd best have a hostage. One that he cares about."

Canderous considered her words in silence. He motioned for one of the other men to bring over a plate of food. It was just beans and prairie chicken, but Revan's mouth watered at the sight. And the smell... Her pride wouldn't let her face register a reaction, however, and she continued to watch Canderous warily.

'Dontcha want yer supper, Sweetheart?' Ordo smirked as he waved the plate under her nose. When she didn't answer, he began to eat the food himself.

Revan watched him eat using the big knife from his belt sheath. Finally he turned to her and smirked. 'Okay, missy, you bought yourself some time. I'll hang onto ya in case things go south.'

He stood and replaced the smirk with a look that sent chills down Revan's spine. 'But the second Sheriff Onasi is dead, your time runs out.'

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"See? I told ya," Jolee Bindo said. "Ol' Yeller knows where he's going. He'll lead us straight to Revan and the big man himself."

"I still don't know why you call that mongrel Ol' Yeller. I mean, he's brown." Atton muttered. "Are you color-blind, old man?"

Carth just shook his head and ignored the bantering. Atton had been like this ever since they'd left town. He kept looking about nervously, as though half-expecting the trees to come to life and jump him. Mical, on the other hand, barely said a word. He kept glancing around, keeping aware of his surroundings, yet calm and serene, contrasting Atton. Jolee was rambling on and on about Ol' Yeller's fine sense of smell, and about how some people didn't know a fine dog when they saw one. This of course provoked another response from Atton.

"Hey, I've seen plenty of dogs. This one looks like a rat that was run over by a buggy."

Carth rolled his eyes, then chose to intervene. "All right, let's try to keep it down. We don't want Ordo and his men to hear us when we approach, do we?" With that, they fell silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the hoof beats of the horses, an occasional bark or whimper from Ol' Yeller.

Jolee's bloodhound seemed to know where it was going, and its nose never left the ground as it walked. The Sheriff hoped that they would find Ordo and the gang before it was too late.

Dustil grunted, stamping his hoof as he went. He was a proud horse, and he seemed excited about this hunt. "Easy, there," Carth murmured, patting his steed's neck. "Don't worry, Dusty. I'm sure we'll get there soon enough." I hope.

They continued on for some time. After a while Jolee began his muttering again, and Atton became convinced that anything that moved was going to jump out and attack. Atton fingered the hilt of his pistol nervously, looking about frantically. Suddenly, he cried out and snatched his pistol out of his bandoleer, firing at something.

Startled, his horse neighed and lurched upward, swinging its front hoofs in the air. Atton yelped and fell off.

"Whoa, Dustil!" Carth snapped, pulling back on the reins. Dustil grunted in protest, but did as he was told. Carth swung his legs out of the saddle and hopped down, then rushed to Atton's side.

"Atton? Atton, can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Atton groaned. "Yeah, I think so," he said. "Nothing's broken, anyway."

Carth grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up into a sitting position. "What were you thinking?" the Sheriff snapped. "Are you trying to tell everyone in the woods that we're out here? If Ordo and the gang are nearby, they probably heard that shot!"

Atton paled. "I-I'm sorry," he said. "I thought I saw something moving, over there." He pointed at a clump of bushes.

"Where is Ol' Yeller?" Mical asked suddenly. Carth glanced up, and saw that he and Jolee had dismounted as well, and they were now looking about.

"I think it's safe to say that he went on without us, if the durn fool didn't just shoot 'im." Jolee snorted. "Ol' Yeller just does what he's told. He doesn't wait up for nobody."

Carth sighed. Wonderful. "Well, unless we can find Yeller, I think we should just press on," he said.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The afternoon was waning, though Revan knew it would still be a while before the sun set. Everyone in the camp was getting ready to get some rest. Two of the men were put on watch, and the others settled down in their bedrolls.

Revan ached all over, she was starving, and her mouth was as dry as cotton. After several unsuccessful attempts, she finally managed to drift off to sleep.

All of a sudden, a shot rang out. Revan's eyes flew open, and she looked around. That didn't come from this camp, she thought. Every man in the camp was suddenly on alert, facing out from the fire with their guns pointed every which way into the surrounding woods. They muttered to themselves, and Ordo sent HK-47 off in the direction he thought the shot had come from.

During all the action, something snuffled at Revan's feet. She stiffened in fright, then relaxed as she recognized Jolee's old dog Yeller.

'Shh, boy, hush,' Revan said softly, forestalling the awful braying she knew Yeller would make now that he'd found his quarry. 'Get Jolee, Yeller. Go get him, boy.'

Soothed by her voice, the baggy old dog wagged his tail, then trotted back into the woods behind Revan. She prayed fervently that none of the men had seen the bloodhound.

An interminable amount of time passed, then Hunter Killer came back to the campfire and whispered something to Canderous. The big men laughed, and Canderous came over to the tree Revan was tied to. He grabbed her upper arm with a steel grip and cut her bonds with his knife.

'So, yer sissy boyfriend came to save you after all,' he said as he dragged her over by the fire. He sat her down on a log, and retied her wrists so that her hands were in front of her. Revan's muscles were cramped and sore, but she was grateful for the new position.

'Looks like he brought himself a fearsome posse, too!' Canderous cowered in mock fear as the rest of the men laughed uproariously. 'A senile old man, a drunk, washed up gambler, and a schoolmaster. Plumb defies the imagination.'

Revan bit back a retort. She would have to tread carefully; who knew when this was going to get ugly?

Carth rode Dustil into the outlaw camp, cool and collected with his guns trained on Ordo and Hunter Killer. His men followed closely, while Jolee cut the lines where the gang's horses were tied. Revan's heart gave a little leap upon seeing them, but she didn't make a sound. The tension was thick and weapons were pointed everywhere. Who would make the first move?

Revan narrowed her eyes and, hoping that Ordo wasn't looking at her at the moment, she turned and swung her legs over the log so that she could face the fire. Then, without hesitation, she boldly kicked the heart of the fire, scattering smoldering chunks and ashes.

"What the--" Ordo began, staring at her in disbelief. What Revan had done caught everyone by surprise, and they all stopped and stared as she pushed herself off the log and fell on the ground, kicking off her smoldering boots.

A full-fledged fight broke out. One of Ordo's men was down, hit in the face with embers from Revan's little stunt. Everyone began to shout. Hunter Killer fired the first shot, hitting Mical in the shoulder. The schoolmaster cried out, then slumped in his saddle.

Carth, who held a pistol in each hand, fired both simultaneously. He grazed Hunter Killer's hand, causing him to cry out and drop his '47. The other bullet took down another one of Ordo's men.

Ordo grabbed at Revan, intending to use her as a hostage and possibly a shield, but she wriggled and squirmed as he tried to grasp her. He roughly took hold of her shoulders, then she bit him in the arm. He yelped, startled, then she kicked him in the midsection. It seemed that he'd had her at a disadvantage, what with her tied wrists and current lack of boots, but she had a powerful kick.

Ordo was a tough man, but that kick knocked the wind out of him, causing his knees to buckle beneath him. Revan took advantage of his momentary immobility to take a small dagger from his belt. Handling it carefully in her fingers, she managed to cut the ropes binding her wrists. Then she jumped to her feet and quickly moved away from Ordo, ignoring the way the rough ground penetrated her stockings.

She looked around and saw that most of Ordo's men were down. Mical was on his horse, moaning. Atton, who was holding a pistol in each hand, was glancing about anxiously as he covered the wounded outlaws. Carth was currently holding Hunter Killer in the air, clutching the front of the big Indian's shirt in both hands. HK-47 was actually whimpering.

The Sheriff drew back one fist and connected it solidly with HK's chin. Hunter Killer then collapsed on the ground, and Carth rubbed his sore hand wearily. "That was like hitting solid metal," he muttered out loud.

While the others were watching this exchange, Canderous got up. He was still winded, but he held his gun out at arm's length and squeezed off a shot. The sound was deafening, and Revan screamed.

'Carth!'

Had Ordo's aim been true, the world would be short one Sheriff Onasi. As it was, the bullet nearly grazed Carth's left bicep. Suddenly, Canderous Ordo crumpled to the ground, a dagger in his back. Jolee stood behind him, a grim but satisfied look on his leathery old face.

When the wounded had been seen to, Jolee and Revan rounded up the gang's scattered horses. They piled one with the bodies of the fallen, and Sheriff Onasi tied the two living outlaws onto another. Jolee mounted up behind Mical, holding the schoolmaster steady as he turned the horse west to go back into town.

Carth helped Revan up behind him. He wanted to scold her for going after Ordo's gang on her own, but decided to save his lecture for later. He was relieved to find her relatively unharmed. She'd never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment; hair loose around her dirty face and the brilliant golden orange of the setting sun lighting her features.

'You lost your hat,' he said, finally.

'My gun, too,' she added glumly, tightening her arms around his waist.

'You can have Ordo's gun, if you want.' Sheriff Onasi paused a moment, then added, 'I'd be much obliged if you'd hang your hat up, though. So to speak.'

Revan chuckled ruefully. 'What do you want me to wear instead?'

'Your wedding veil.'

Revan squeezed Carth tightly, smiling as she rested her bruised cheek on the broad expanse of his back. Carth spurred Dustil on, sending the horse into a gallop; hoping to get the wounded in to Doc Forn before it was too late. Mistress Shan's inn would be full tonight; perhaps that would signal the start of a quieter, happier future for everyone.