Jeff rubbed the sweat off his neck below his deep black hair. He let the branding iron swing from his hand as he watched the calf run off. Last one of the day. His working partner, Drake, took off as soon as the calf was standing. Jeff’s horse snorted at him and lowered his head, Jeff unsaddled and released him. The sun was sinking and he was glad for a cooling breeze that blew across the sandy pen. Supper crossed his mind and his eyes wandered toward the house, to his surprise, someone was heading toward him.
Mererthaballikawalik spotted its nemesis. The sweaty cattle torturer, Jeff, out in the field. It had just seen a bleating calf run away with a searing brand in its side. A heightened rush of energy that humans might call anger filled the Crk and it broke into a battle charge, pulling out its weapons, intent of ridding the world of the sweaty menace to cattle everywhere!
Jeff's eyes widened as the figure unsheathed a sword and begin running toward him aggressively. He looked around for a weapon and then glanced down at the branding iron in his hand. Better than nothing, it would have to do. As the figure approached, Jeff came to the realization it wasn't a human and his body tensed further as he waited for the sword to start shooting darts or lasers. What the heck was going on?
Mererthaballikawalik, the Crk, gained control of itself during the battle charge, processing what it must do to conduct its duty under the Human/Crk Living Organism act of 2045. Coming to a shambling halt five meters from its target it evaluated the branding iron the human wielded and made its challenge in a series of clicks and whistles which a translator box attached on a belt around the Crk's midsection repeated in basic, "Human, state your reason for torturing that calf and present your certificates of compliance giving you the authority immediately or you shall be dismembered." The Crk swiped the long blade in a menacing swish, as if preparing to make good it's threat. The Crk had four powerful legs under it and another two arms on its upper torso, similar to a praying mantis.
Jeff resisted the urge to take a step back, his brown eyes widening. He had never seen a Crk in person, what was one doing in the middle of nowhere where he lived? "I'm not torturing it!" he explained hurriedly. "It's just a brand, a way to mark that the animal belongs to me. In a way it is it's own certificate." He held tight to the branding iron, his knuckles turning white and thought of the rifle in his truck, useless to him so far away.
The Crk chirped in its own form of disgust. "That is an insufficient argument, any form of branding the Kine race, which is subservient to Humans must be done under supervision of an authorized technician with the use of local anesthesia to prevent pain according to statute 05.1007.508 article B of the Crk/Human Farm Bill of 2040." The Crk pointed its fiery sword at the cowboy. "Identify who's authority you work under," the alien demanded.
Mererthaballikawalik's dual brains were working in overdrive. It was a zealous enforcer and had been striving to catch these illegal branding cowboys for years. It just needed proof such as it had just seen of a cow in pain. If it could discover who the cowboy worked for, perhaps by confiscating the newly seared calf the Crk legation could bring charges in the courts. His past efforts until now had been stymied. The cowboy branders either insisted they had used the pain killers or the victim disappeared. And as of yet, despite the Crk races best efforts, they had yet to have any success questioning such victims, let alone presenting them in a court of law to testify of the abuse inflicted upon their race. But not this time, this time Mererthaballikawalik had fired a tracking dart into the fleeing calf, and once he has this cowboy's details and his boss, he would be taking the calf into custody.
Jeff grunted. "Who do you work for?" he demanded. "Not sure how things work where you come from, but you're on private property. You can't just tresprass and start demanding answers! I demand answers!" Jeff hated the bill and knew it wouldn't be followed as soon as it was passed. It was too expensive to use pain killers for every calf, they were investment animals, not pets.
Mererthaballikawalik thought quickly. Technically the cowboy was right. "As an enforcer of the Farm Laws, I am authorized to investigate on any property without notice," the Crk was becoming distracted. The transmitter beacon was growing distant, even though the cowboy was here, without the calf and its smoldering brand, it had no case. Growing agitated, it wheeled off towards the direction of the signal before turning back to the cowboy. "I am going to take custody of the victim, then I will be back to take you to the local law building, remain here until I return," it ordered, before skittering into a odd four-legged gate down the hill, into the fields, looking for the calf in the herds of cows.
Jeff watched the back of the alien creature as it loped off then he turned and headed toward his truck, where his gun was. Not that he figured he'd need it but he'd decided to take a drive, to anywhere but there for a while.
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