After making Peace with Vance Milligan, there wasn’t much left for me.  I immediately took a leave of absence and, after putting out a few feelers, I resigned.  Not only would very little work come my way were I to return, but I would also have to deal with Milligan’s allies.  They would come after me relentlessly, and I knew I couldn’t count on the official hierarchy for help. 
I guess that’s what you get for following the Code.
            The most pressing problem facing me was what to do next.  I had spent my whole life carrying out the Code, making sure that the cornerstone and building block of our society was respected, honored, enforced, and followed.  But I wouldn’t be able to do that now, and for a guy like me, there aren’t a lot of options.  Being a Proponent was absolutely out of the question, I can’t twist the Code to fit the narrow needs of Seekers like Proponents do.  Even were I to become a Proponent, no Seeker would employ me.  Hell, you don’t hire a Proponent who won’t get anything done for you.  Were I to be an Opponent, I’d have the same problem.  Proponents would refuse to do business with me and Peacemakers would go out of their way to ignore my role in the process.  Either that or they’d make sure I got gunned down.  Retirement didn’t seem much of a possibility, either.  Not being old and not being young, the only thing I saw in front of me was years of work, I just had to figure out what that work would be.
Regardless of what I decided on doing, I would need a new base of operations.  I couldn’t stay in any of the Districts.  The SubDistricts would be full of all different sorts of enemies, from Vance Milligan’s co-workers and Peacemakers out to get me, to agents of the Intermediary Boards and the Council of Nine and people who just flat had a grudge against me.  That left one place for me to work, a place which could well be more dangerous than the Districts.  While I sure as hell didn’t want to end up there, what choice did I have? 

            It took about three-and-a-half weeks of travelling, I had to double-back, take routes that led me along an endless stream of whistle stops, and generally get as lost as possible before I got there, but I finally made my way to the Badlands.  The Badlands, a place full of cutthroats, murderers, thieves, and backstabbers.  Unscrupulous Opponents were everywhere, and most of them would do anything to get a shot off at a Peacemaker, current or former.  I can’t say I don’t deserve it, but enforcing the Code won’t always make you friends. 
I was a little worried about staying on the main strip of town, but I didn’t have much of an option.  I needed a place to stay, and one of the hotels would be the best place to get a room for the night.  I walked about a quarter of a mile from the whistle stop and entered my new home, “S’Anthony”, a small town in the Eastern Badlands.  I went east because it was the farthest I could get from my old District, which bordered the Western Badlands.  I took in the dirt, the grime, and the unsavory characters while looking for a place to stay and tried to look at ease.  The last thing I needed was some pickpocket or grifter trying to take advantage of me. 
Towards the end of the main strip, I saw a saloon with a motel, or at least some semblance of one, attached to it.  It could have been a whore house pretending to be a motel, but even then I could get a room provided I paid enough for it.  But knowing the people around these parts, the price of the room would leave me with just about nothing left.
I contemplated leaving as soon as I walked through the saloon’s swinging doors.  I spotted at least four men that I had forced out of the Districts and into the Badlands.  This surprised me.  Part of the reason I came east was to get away from the people I exiled, but I guess people moved around in the Badlands just like anywhere else.  Taking another look, I recalled that each man had sworn revenge, and I think they even went to the trouble of filing their notice, which meant that they could go after me at any time.(1)  My status as Peacemaker had protected me from most attempts at revenge, but I wasn’t a Peacemaker any more and couldn’t count on the intimidation of my position.  And that was particularly unfortunate now because several men noticed me as I walked in.
I remained calm and walked straight to the bar.  A woman who wasn’t much to look at was tending.  Not that she wasn’t pretty, she had beauty in her face and in her figure, but she’d been beaten down by the hard life of the Badlands.  She probably ended up here as a result of a string of bad decisions, bad luck, or both and had almost certainly been a whore for a while.  After she got a little too old for that, which would mean about thirty out here, the owner of the place likely converted her to bartender.  She probably still had a few regular customers that made her worth hanging on to, but that couldn’t last too much longer.  She could get kicked to the street at any moment, and her perfume smelled of fear and bitterness. 
“Could I get a bourbon, ma’am?” For the first time in a long time, I was going to have a drink.  I stopped drinking when I became a Peacemaker, but I needed to fit in now, and having a drink was the way to do it.
“What kind?” she said with a not too subtle bit of anger.
“Just whatever the house is, ma’am, thank you.”
She eyeballed me for a moment and then turned around and went about fixing my drink.  The men in the room stared at me while I waited, probably curious if I was here on business and if they were going to be part of that business.  The tender came back quickly with a bourbon and placed it on the bar in front of me.
“You don’t want our house stuff, it’s as likely to kill you as it is to get you drunk,” she said while looking down at the floor.
“Thank you, ma’am.  What do you I owe you?”
“Do you want to run a tab or . . .”
“You’re Bill Sheppard, ain’t you?” a man to my right called out.  I turned and saw the man in the middle of a card game with four others.  The others fixed their eyes on me, but the man who spoke looked at his cards, carefully moving them around in his hand to make sure they were in the order he wanted. 
I turned back to my drink, took it down in one swallow, then turned back towards the man and said, “Yes.  I’m Bill Sheppard.”
“I thought that was you.”
“I can’t be too sure, but I believe you’re Luke Holloway.  You’re the man that ran out here after that business with the alderman’s son four years past.”
“That’s me,” he said while looking at his chips, “I believe that you were the one responsible for making Peace with me.”
“I was.”
“But you never came out here after me, did you?”
“No.”
“And I take it you’re here for me now.”
“No, I’m not here for you.”
I expected him to move for his gun or at least to have some of his poker buddies move for theirs, but no one was moving at all.  It felt like everyone else was a statute and Luke and I were the only ones with blood moving through our bodies.
 “Well,” he said while putting his cards face down on the table and turning to look at me for the first time, “If you’re not here for me, then I guess that you could be here for almost anyone in this town.  I know at least seven men in this shithole right now that you chased out here.
“So tell me, Sheppard, which one of us are you after?” His grey eyes were outwardly calm, but I could tell that there was a bit of anger hidden beneath them.  He stood up as he asked the question and I could see that if I got into a fight with him I’d be in trouble.  Luke stood an even six-foot-four with a considerable amount of muscle.  He had a slight beard that partially covered a scar on his left cheek, and I knew how he got that mark.  Luke was at a bar in my old District and got in a drunken brawl one night when the son of a local alderman went around trying to pick a fight.  All in all, the two men were acting like overgrown boys and one ended up dead, the one with the power and the connections.  Of course, that same man was the one to blame for the whole thing, but since he had the connections, no one brought that up and Luke ended up out here in the Badlands.
“As I said, I’m not here for you, Luke, I’m not here for anyone,” I said in an attempt to take the tension out of the room and hopefully make some friends, or at least get rid of a few enemies.  Of course I wasn’t dumb enough to tell them I was looking for a place to stay.
His eyes lost the suppressed anger and betrayed a hint of interest.  He looked me up and down very carefully before he spoke again.
“Then you must be here because you killed Vance Milligan.”
 “Shit!” someone yelled from the back of the saloon, “If he killed Vance Milligan then what the hell are you giving him such a hard time for, Luke?  Hell, I’d buy the man a drink if he weren’t a goddamned Peacemaker.”
Most of the people in the saloon agreed with the general assessment that Vance Milligan had it coming, but most of them also thought that I had it coming, too, so they weren’t willing to join in with my new friend. 
“I’m no Peacemaker, sir, not any longer.”
Everyone went quiet after that.  I figured that the seven people that Luke mentioned were deciding whether to go ahead and try to kill me.  Luke let things linger for a moment before he broke the silence.
“Well, Sheppard,” he said while walking towards me, “You had the chance to do a hell of a lot worse to me four years ago, so you’re OK in my book.”
He extended his hand to me and I put mine out and shoved him to the floor.  With my other hand I pulled out my pistol and shot a man to my right.  His name was Walt Leon, I had him exiled from my District seven years ago for blackmail.  I would have done more, but the Code wouldn’t let me do it.(2)  I whipped my pistol in front of Luke’s face and held it there for a moment that passed like an eternity.
“Did you try and set me up?”
“No, Sheppard, I didn’t,” he said with fear streaming across his eyes.  I knew this man, he wouldn’t lie.  He might be out in the Badlands, but he had the eyes of a man of integrity and that told me I could count on him to tell the truth.
“Good, I’d have hated to gun you down,” I said while I holstered my pistol.  I extended my hand and pulled him up from the floor and helped him dust off.  I turned to the bar and said, “Ma’am, I’m sorry for making a mess.  What do I owe you for the drink?”
“Hell,” she said with a slight snarl, “Walt was a rotten bastard anyway, always getting rough with the girls.  You drink for free today, Peacemaker.”
“Thank you, but I’m not a Peacemaker, ma’am.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said while handing me a bottle of bourbon.

 Luke and I sat in the back of the saloon where we could see everyone come in and shared the bottle.
“So, Sheppard, what are you gonna do now that you ain’t a Peacemaker?”
“I don’t know, Luke, I don’t know.  I’ve been thinking about that ever since I made Peace with Vance and I haven’t made much of a decision.  I don’t have much in the way of skills other than Peacemaking, but I can’t do that anymore.”
I took another shot and he looked down at the floor deep in thought.
“You got something in mind?”
“Well, maybe,” he said while scratching the left side of his face just below his scar, “but I don’t know if it’s something that you’d be willing to do, Sheppard.”
“What is it?”
“Sheppard, I know you and I know a lot of people out here who know you,” he said as he moved his chair to better face me, “You’ve got one hell of a reputation.  The people out here respect you, trust you, and generally think you do the right thing.”
“I doubt that.  I always did what the Code said to, no more, no less.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, Sheppard, but I do know that you do what’s right and you don’t cut the powerful a break when they shouldn’t get one.  Take that mess with Kevin Steiner.  Shit, most Peacemakers would have taken that Blood Money and walked away from the whole thing, but you followed it to the end.  You made peace with Vance Milligan, Sheppard, Vance Milligan.  There ain’t too many folks in this world who would’ve done that, much less many Peacemakers.”
“What are you getting at, Luke?”
“Set up shop here, Sheppard.  Work as an Opponent or a Proponent or something, just work for these folks.  They could use an ally, an advocate.  Hell, you know it better’n I do,” he said while pouring me another drink.
“I don’t know, Luke,” I said while picking up the drink and staring down into it, “I don’t think that I’d be able to work with too many people out in the Districts.”
“The Districts?  Shit, Sheppard, they’re the goddamned problem!  The people in the Districts are the ones you oughta be making Peace with, not the folks here!”
I shot him a skeptical look that prompted him to add, “OK, OK, a lot of the folks here are the problem, too, I’m not gonna lie to you.  But, Sheppard, a lot of the folks out here ain’t bad folks, they just ended up here by accident or shitty circumstances or whatever the hell you want to call it.  And as you damned well know, a lot of ‘em ended up here as the result of slick rich folks manipulating the Code.  And you know that ain’t right, Sheppard.”
I weighed his words very carefully before I spoke.
“I’ve got no problem being an Opponent or a Proponent for someone who is trying to see that the Code is carried out, but that’s not what you’re asking me to do.  You’re asking me to do whatever these people want done, and I can’t do that.  I can’t bend the Code, Luke, I just can’t.”
Luke drank another shot of bourbon, smiled, leaned towards me and said, “That’s all I’m asking, Sheppard, that’s all I’m asking.”

I ended up getting a room at the saloon for the night.  I wasn’t too worried that people would come looking for me as I had established some level of credibility after killing Walt Leon, but I didn’t let that give me a false sense of security and slept pretty light.  I spent most of the night thinking about what Luke had suggested.  Helping out the people in the Badlands would be problematic because it would put me closer to my new enemies in the Districts.  And then there would also be the problem of bad Seekers.  If I worked for just anyone, I’d end up bending and twisting the Code like every other Proponent and Opponent, and I couldn’t do that.  But at the same time I really didn’t have much of a choice, so I’d just have to cross that bridge when I came to it.  While withdrawal was always available,(3) it always ended up with Seekers coming after you for the inconvenience you caused, and they usually meant to make you suffer for it.  And out in the Badlands I was certain that the suffering would be above and beyond what happened in the Districts. 
Despite the problems, working for people here would certainly be the closest thing to enforcing the Code that I would be able to do, and it would also take care of what would soon be a significant problem, funds.  I saved most of the money I made as a Peacemaker, but that wouldn’t last forever, Peacemakers don’t get paid that much. 

After gunning Walt Leon down in the saloon, word of my presence spread like wildfire.  As I was getting dressed the next morning I heard a knock on my door.
“Peacemaker?” the tender from yesterday asked tentatively. 
I reached for my pistol, made sure the safety was off, and said, “Come in.”
She opened the door and stepped over the threshold, not pausing for a moment at the site of my pistol. 
With her eyes on the floor she said, “There’s a man who wants to see you, Peacemaker . . .”
“Well, that’s fine, ma’am, but I’m not a Peacemaker any more,” I interjected.
“You can call yourself whatever you want, Peacemaker,” she fired back while taking her eyes away from the floor for a moment, “But I’ve got people down there who want to see you.  Are you interested in some work or not?”
I thought about that for a moment and absentmindedly put my pistol back in its holster.   “Yes, ma’am, I guess I am.  I won’t be able to pay your bill if I don’t start bringing in some money.”
“If you keep gunning down the sonsabitches that come into this dump, you won’t have to worry about no bill.”
As soon as I finished dressing, I walked down into the saloon.  It was early, but people were already eating breakfast.  Some mixed alcohol with their breakfast and most were probably holdovers from the night before.  Coming down the stairs put me to the immediate left of the bar.  I looked over at the tender and she nodded to a table at the right of the swinging doors and in front of a window.  Three men were drinking coffee, but none were talking.
They noticed me when I got halfway there.  All three stood up and took their hats off.  The three men were clearly related, the oldest being the father or an uncle and the other two being either his sons or nephews.
“Peacemaker,” the eldest said with a nod of his head.  He motioned to the table and one of the boys pulled out a chair for me.
“Thank you, son,” I said while pulling my chair out further and taking a seat.  The three of them sat down and put their hats back on.  The two boys looked at their coffee and the eldest looked at me, “Before we get started, I’d just like to say that I’m not a Peacemaker anymore, but I’ll do what I can for you.”
“That’s fine, sir, that’s fine.  I understand.”
“Good, good.  My name’s Bill Sheppard.  What’s your name and what can I do for you?”
“Well, Peacemaker, uh, Mr. Sheppard, my name is Gus Bradley,” he put out his hand and I shook it, “and these two are my boys, Frank and John.  I’ve got a third one, the youngest, his name’s Will, and he’s the reason we’re here.”
“All right, sir, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what happened.”
“Well, Mr. Sheppard,” he said after taking a swallow of coffee, “it’s like this.  My boy, Will, he’s, well he’s from S’Anthony.  All of us are, more or less, my whole family.  Anyway, he went into a District one day on an errand and he met a girl, and, well, Mr. Sheppard, I guess you can imagine what happened.  They were nothing but youngsters and he’d sneak into the District whenever he could to see her and he got caught one time.”
“I imagine he and the girl were . . .”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which District was it?”
“Southeastern, the Greenville SubDistrict.”
“I know the Peacemaker there, he could be a problem.  So what happened after that?”
“Well, the father caught them and he managed to get away.  He made it back here, but it wasn’t long before a Proponent, Ian Kilgore, came along.  He offered the boy a deal, just agree to a Default on the rape charge and nothing would come of it.  Will didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to make that girl testify, either.  Well, we just didn’t know what to do, so we agreed to the Default and thought that would be the end of that.
“It wasn’t too long after that when we got word that a Peacemaker was looking for Will.  I was all bent out of shape when I heard that, but I couldn’t say I was totally surprised by the whole thing.  I tried talking to Mr. Kilgore, but he acted like nothing happened and claimed he didn’t know who I was.  I just don’t know what else to do, Peace . . ., uh, Mr. Sheppard and when I heard you was in town, I came here.”
I thought about his story for a moment and decided it didn’t add up.
“That Proponent paid you some money, didn’t he?”
The man just looked at the floor and nodded.
“I didn’t hear you.  Did the Proponent pay you?”
Mr. Bradley looked to the floor, exhaled, and weakly said, “Yes, sir, he did.”
“I figured.  The father probably decided that paying the boy would be easier than a trial.” 
“Well,” I said while standing up, “I don’t have a problem helping you so long as you get rid of that money.  You give it back to the Proponent somehow, I’ll do it for you if you want, and then I’ll take care of that boy of yours.  I hope that’s all right with you.”
As soon as I turned away from the table I felt an arm grab my left hand.  I turned around and looked down at Mr. Bradley.
“I need that money, Mr. Sheppard, I ain’t got nothing out here, nothing.”
“Get your hand off me, Gus.”
He removed his hand as if he was ashamed of it and then said, “Mr. Sheppard, I understand what you want me to do, but I can’t.  I’ve been worse than broke all my life and my family needs that money.”
“If you want my help, you’ll give it back.  What you all agreed to do was a violation of the Code, and I can’t countenance that.  I’ll help make it right, but you’ve got to be willing to do that, too.”
He stood up slowly, keeping his eyes on the floor and reached inside his jacket.  I calmly moved my hand closer to my pistol just to be cautious, but I knew he wasn’t reaching for a weapon.  He pulled out a small leather sack and handed it to me.
“There you go, Mr. Sheppard, there’s the money that he paid us.  Without that, I don’t know how I’ll pay you, but I’ll do what I can.”
“All right, all right, don’t worry about the fee, it won’t be too large.  The first thing I’ll . . .”
The bullets flying through the saloon wouldn’t let me finish my sentence.  I pushed Gus to the ground and dived under the table, pulling each of his boys down with me.  I reached for Gus and drug him under the table with the three of us and tipped the table over to give us cover.  I made a mental note not to sit in front of a window again, checked to make sure all three were still alive, and then I pulled out my pistol.
“Bill Sheppard!” a man from outside the saloon called out, “This is Peacemaker Robert Ainge.  You are wanted for the murder of Vance Milligan!  Come out now and let’s make it easy, no need for any innocent people getting shot or killed.”
“Did you do this?” I asked Gus, “Did you bring these people here?”
“No, sir.”
“Bill Sheppard,” the Peacemaker called out again, “We know that you’re in there and we know you’ve got a posse.  We don’t want any trouble, so just come out and make it easy.”
Ainge mistakenly thinking that I had a posse gave me a chance.  I turned to the Bradleys and tried to take advantage of it.
“I know that you’re not part of this, but they think you are, and they won’t listen to you try to explain otherwise.  You’re all armed, right?” they nodded that they were and I continued, “Good.  Now I want you three to start firing out that window when I tell you to.  I’m going to get to the other side of the door and try and see how many that Peacemaker’s got with him.  Can you handle that?”
“Yes, sir,” Gus said speaking for his boys, “But I reckon this’ll cut into your fee.”
I laughed hard at that one and told them to start shooting.  As soon as they did, I moved around the table and dove to the other side of the door.  A few shots came my way when I did, but none hit me.  I got to the left of the saloon door and managed to see two people in the locksmith’s shop across the street.  Neither one of them looked like Peacemakers, but it didn’t stop me from picking one of them off.
Gus and his boys stopped shooting and I took the opportunity to clear the air.
“Look, Ainge, I hate to disappoint you, but what happened between me and Vance was in total compliance with the Code.  You’re attempting make unlawful Peace and should leave immediately.(4)”
“Yeah, right, Sheppard.  I’ve heard that line of crap before.  Why don’t you just come out here and make this easy?” Ainge asked.
“Mighty tough words from a Peacemaker who just lost one of his men.”
“Yeah, well, shit happens,” he shouted back.  That was all I needed to find out where he was.  I motioned to Gus and his boys to fire at the man across the street on my signal.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  After a very long second, I opened my eyes and signaled for them to start shooting.  As soon as they fired I dove under the swinging doors and saw the Peacemaker to my left.  I had my pistol out as I dove and shot him before he could fully register what had just happened.  As soon as the dive stopped, I rolled to my left and came up ready to shoot.  I yelled out for Gus and his boys to stop shooting and called out to the final member of Ainge’s posse.
“All right, it’s over,” I said, “Come on out.”
The man threw his pistol out of the door and came out with his hands up.  I gave him a hard look and he ran off.  I turned back to the Peacemaker and holstered my pistol.  When I got up to him, he was spitting blood and gasping for breath.  I crouched down beside him, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped some of the blood from his face.
“Who sent you, Peacemaker?”
He struggled to speak and I had to get real close to hear what he said, but I heard it. 
“Rest easy, then,” I said quietly.  I pulled out my pistol, shot him once through the heart, and watched his life escape.  He died with a contented grin, a grin that scared me more than I had ever been scared in my life.
I walked back to the saloon and made sure that Gus and his boys were okay.  After that, we straightened up as best we could.  I told Gus to get his boy to me as soon as possible and that I would take care of everything, free of charge.  I told them to be cautious, but not to worry as the Peacemakers would be after me, and his boy, not them. 
After they left, I walked up to the tender.
“Did anyone else get hurt?”
“No, Peacemaker, no else got hurt,” I rolled my eyes when she called me “Peacemaker”, but I didn’t bother to correct her, “They all cleared out pretty quickly.”
“Are you all right?”
She struggled with that one.  Given her background, I’m sure that no one asked her that aside from the occasional shy types.  She eventually said she was fine.
“I’ll understand if I need to get another place, ma’am.  I’m sure you can’t have . . .”
“Shit,” she said while spitting on the floor, “With a guy like you around, I won’t have to worry about customers getting rough with any of the girls or walking out without paying.  You can stay as long as you’d like.”
“Well, thank you, but I think I should talk to the owner.”
“He’s dead, you just killed him.”
“What?”
“He buddied up with the Peacemaker who came for you to get in good with the law.  He was always like that, trying to be a show-off.  Guess it finally caught up with him.”
“So who’s in charge now?”
“You’re looking at her.”
I smiled a bit and thanked her for letting me stay and headed off to my room.  “What’d that Peacemaker say to you?” she asked.
“‘Everyone’.”

Two weeks later I made it to the Greenville SubDistrict.  Gus had brought his boy to me and I had the tender take him somewhere safe.  It was late at night when I arrived and I cautiously made my way to the office of Proponent Ian Kilgore.  A light was on inside, so I went around back and tried the door which was unlocked.  I opened it slowly and stepped inside.  I closed the door as soon as I got in and moved carefully towards Kilgore’s office.
When I got to his door, he was looking over a few papers and had a cup of what looked like whiskey to his left.  He was wearing a suit that looked sharp, not flashy, but professional.  He had glasses on and took them off to rub at the bridge of his nose.  He looked up when he put his glasses back on and noticed me.  He looked kind of surprised, but quickly controlled himself.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“The name’s Bill Sheppard, and I work for Will Bradley.  I think this belongs to you,” I said as I threw the money to the floor.
He looked down at his desk and then picked up his cup and drank the rest of his whiskey.  “Look, Sheppard, I don’t know what you heard, but . . .”
“I heard you paid for Will to Default and told him that that would take care of everything.  But then a Peacemaker started coming around looking for him and when Will’s dad tried to set things right, you acted like you never met him.  Did I miss anything?”
“How dare you come in here and accuse me of . . .” he said while rising from his chair in anger.
“I wouldn’t get out of that chair,” I said as I put my hand over my holster.
He sat back down and tried to control the anger on his face.
“Don’t go getting all high and mighty with me, Kilgore.  I know what you did, I was a Peacemaker long enough to recognize a rotten deal when I see it, and this one certainly is.”
“Peacemaker?” he shot out, “Peacemaker?  Sheppard, Bill Sheppard!  You’re from the Rock Bridge SubDistrict out West, aren’t you?  I thought I recognized that name.  You’re the one who killed Vance Milligan.”
“I made Peace with Milligan, proper and lawful.”
“Well, I guess everyone has their opinion.”
“You can look at it however you want, that’s not what I’m here for.  I’m here because of Will Bradley.  Now that you got your money back we’ll be requesting a writ of error.(5)  We can’t appeal, it’s well past twenty days, so the writ’s all we’ve got.(6)  I expect you to help me in that process, Kilgore.”
“What?!?”
“That’s right, you’ll work with me to undo that Default.  Will’s ready to do it, you’ll just have to tell your Seeker what’s going to happen.”
“Just who in the hell do you think you are?  It’s not lawful for you to interfere with a case when someone Defaulted!  Beyond unlawful, it’s unethical . . .”
“Don’t you dare speak to me about ethics, boy.”
“Now see here,” he said while getting up, “I won’t have some disgraced ex-Peacemaker come in here with a fabricated story about Gus Bradley getting money from me to set up a Default.  I’m a respected Proponent and I carry out the dictates of the Code.  Now get the hell out of my office before I notify the local Peacemaker!”
“Fabricated story, huh?”
“You’re damn right it’s fabricated.”
“I said I worked for Will Bradley, not for Gus Bradley.”
His face turned white and he slumped into his chair.
“I want you to write a letter detailing what you did.  Don’t leave anything out.”
“Look, I don’t understand what you think this will accomplish.  No one will believe you anyway, Mr. Sheppard.  Do you have any idea how many people are out to get you after what you did to Vance Milligan?  Why don’t you just take that money and get out of here?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Kilgore?  For me just to leave you here by yourself so you can go back to corrupting the Code.  But that isn’t going to happen.  I’m here to speak for Will Bradley, I’m here to speak for the Code, and I’m here to set things right.  You’re going to pay for what you did, now get writing.”
“Mr. Sheppard, who do you think the Intermediary Board will believe?  I’ve worked as a Proponent for decades.  Where’s that boy from?  He’s got no family, no friends, and no connections out here.  He’s just some punk from S’Anthony, and you know that’s all the Board will have to hear before it . . .”
It happened so fast he didn’t realize what I’d done until the blood came from his mouth, and to be honest, neither did I.  I must have done it while he was talking, but regardless, I had moved all the way from the door to his desk and hit him with the butt of my pistol so hard that a few teeth came lose.  He screamed in pain and spit blood.
“I said, ‘write’.”
That was all I needed to get my point across.  He started writing as fast as he could and finished his confession quickly.  I tried my best to read it from my vantage point as he wrote, and when he finished I made him read it out loud to make sure he didn’t pull a fast one on me.  The confession wasn’t perfect, but it was about as genuine as I was going to get.
“Now put it in an envelope, put your seal on it,(7) and give it to me.”
“What are you going to do with it?” he asked while wiping a little blood from his face and putting his seal on the letter.
“I’m going to put it to Post.”
“You know, Mr. Sheppard, I still don’t see what you expect to get from all of this.  I mean . . .”
I should have been paying attention, but the whole situation was starting to get to me.  I kept thinking about whether the Intermediary Board would believe Kilgore or Will and what I would do if the Default remained in place.  If it came to that I would have no choice but to turn Will over to a Peacemaker and let the Default go forward.  I guess Kilgore realized that I lost my concentration and he went for a gun in the desk drawer.  He got off one shot, but I managed to dive to the ground as he fired.  As soon as I hit the ground I came up, took aim, and fired at Kilgore.  He dropped his gun, reached up to his head in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, and fell out of his chair onto the floor.   I walked over to his desk, picked up the letter, folded it, and put it into my jacket pocket.  Ian Kilgore lay dead on the floor.  Fortunately for me it would look enough like a suicide to keep people off of my track.  After Vance Milligan the last thing I needed to do was give people another reason to hunt me down. 
I walked quietly out of his office, left through the back door, and escaped into the cover of night.

About a month later, the Intermediary Board removed the Default.  All I did was mail in the letter, I had to stay out of it after killing Kilgore, and it resolved itself.   The Intermediary Board handled the matter as if Will had appealed, which it almost certainly did to avoid the mess with Kilgore.  Regardless of its motives, the Board found that the Peacemaker lacked sufficient evidence to find Will guilty(8) and strongly hinted in its opinion that the evidence would also be insufficient to support a conviction on any lesser chargers.  It wasn’t quite a pronouncement of innocence, but it was the best I could do. 
That should have brought me a great deal of relief, but Kilgore wouldn’t go away, his words ate at me.  If I kept trying to undo Defaults and appeal decisions made by Peacemakers, I would eventually lose to the Proponents and their Seekers.  No Intermediary Board would believe a Badlander over a Proponent or a Seeker from a District, especially when the Badlander’s Opponent was a rogue ex-Peacemaker like me.  If it came down to it, the result of trying to set wrongs right would be more dead Proponents and more dead Peacemakers.
“Peacemaker?” the tender, now owner, called from behind my door, “You got some people want to see you.”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I said.  I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I took an oath to uphold the Code,(9) and headed downstairs.

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