It all felt like a bad dream. One minute at a crime scene, and the next now being sent from everything he knows and loves, all on what he believed to be a suicide mission.

Now Do’Lânqwa was stood in another room examining a free standing, whole body suit. The room was long with many identical work stations symmetrically set up along the whole length in two columns. In the exact middle of the room was the suit, centred in honour of its pageantry and glory.

Do’Lânqwa was led to the room after a period of calming down. He was able to speak to his wife and slightly explain the situation to her, without putting her and their infant in danger. The whole situation was emotionally fraught and lasted an hour. She was angry that he couldn’t really say why she would never see him again, but Do’Lânqwa didn’t want their last conversation to be an angry one. It’s not what he wanted his lasting memory to be of that moment. To the credit of Do’Lânqwa’s professional captors, they didn’t rush him and allowed him the time he needed, but this courtesy didn’t go far enough to make up for what was happening to him.

“What if I refuse?” Do’Lânqwa had initially asked.

“Simply you’d be sent to the Detention Facility just outside of orbit, where you die without seeing a soul,” he replied honestly, which didn’t sound any better than the path he was being forced down.

Neither option allowed Do’Lânqwa to see his infant grow up, but his wife reluctantly accepted that the relative freedom his new mission allowed him was better than any solitary imprisonment. She also suggested that there was nobility in being able to rescue the child that was missing. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was not really his priority. The last thing Do’Lânqwa said before ending the call was vowing to see her again one day, despite being in defiance of the conditions of his mission. He didn’t know how, but he couldn’t not try.

Back in the room, “It truly is state of the art in scientific technology,” explained the more senior man, who still hadn’t introduced himself by name, so Do’Lânqwa decided to refer to him in his own head as ‘The Boss’ for simplicity. “It’s been made from Kugreycium and has been adapted from the suits our Peacekeepers wear on their tours.”

Ha’Tiviab, who would have got the nick name of the ‘The Hairless’ had Do’Lânqwa not known his actual name, began to go through the features of the suit. “It’s water, thermal and radiation resistant as standard. It’s been created for astral travel and adapted to most planetary atmospheres. That simply means that although we will be giving you a craft, you could also technically fly out by yourself in space. It goes without saying that the properties of Kugreycium will give you immense physical strength and protection from most types of attack and penetration.”

Turning the cylindrical chamber that the suit was in to show the back, Ha’Tiviab continued. “You’ll see here that there are multiple miniature jet outputs capable of high speed propulsion. We have twelve Orbite cells that work with the two Etreilium cells to provide regenerative fuel, located all around the suit for weight distribution and in case of isolated damage.” Ha’Tiviab rotated the chamber back round so that they were looking at the front. “There is also a sophisticated defence system with three-sixty radar awareness and rechargeable blasters for attacking.”

“So much for the passivist ways, right?” mused Do’Lânqwa.

“Well it’s better than nothing, which was almost going to be the case. You also have electrocution capabilities in the palms and a night stick stowed in the right thigh, released through your thoughts.”

Ha’Tiviab pressed a switch, which released the formed suit, making the panels repel from each other and revealing the hollowed interior.

“Here you will see some other features. The orbital panels house biometric sensors that allow you to mentally control and initiate stardust beam emissions from the optic fields within the helmet. It’s the same biometric systems that allow you to retrieve your nightstick. You can also generate the forcefield which has a wide field. You've got visual access and verbal control of the HUD display panel with navigational support, health scanner and a visual scanner. Basically, everything you will need.”

Do’Lânqwa just stared at it. Comprehending what the suit meant. What it symbolised. And the jargon used to explain it meant. It sounded made up. He had to get his head around his mission. Rescue the infant? Yes, he wanted to do that. But to ensure that The 45th didn’t become a problem? And remain loyal to the passive ways of his people? What a contradiction of instructions. He took in the suit. Sure, it sounded amazing, capable of things he never thought he would be a part of. Made with tech he could never have imagined.

The suit covered everything from head to toe. The black helmet, with three gold horizontal bars symmetrically placed, had a slightly raised metallic point at the top in gold. The dazzling neon yellow visual visor ran the whole width of the helmet, ensuring optimal peripheral vision. The whole suit was a combination of black, cosmic blue and gold, resembled something extremely militaryesque in the placing of plates and trim. For example the deltoid and shoulder were gold, the chest plates and upper arms were in the blue and the lower abdomen and forearms were in a deep combative black. There were gold diagonal panels coming from the abs outwards. On the belt was a golden law enforcement insignia.

“What’s that?” Do’Lânqwa asked pointing to it.

“The badge activates and deactivates your suit when you and only you press it,” Ha’Tiviab explained. Do’Lânqwa couldn’t help but be impressed, but made sure he hid it. “You need to keep the badge on you at all times. It activates instantly, and is a symbol of who you are. Almost like an Astral Sheriff, someone who patrols all of space between the planets and the stars.”

“Astral Sheriff? You might need to work on that. Why can't I just be the Captain? I am a police captain after all,” muttered Do’Lânqwa.

“No, no. We couldn't get away with that, it's been done before. No. 'The Astral Sheriff', it should be. I actually quite like it!” announced the boss, showing slight degrees of warmth and humility in the process.

Do’Lânqwa examined the rest of the suit, admiring the legs of it. The upper thighs were the same black down to the knees where there were blue knee plates, and a gold chevron before the black boots finished off the authoratively cosmic, gladiatorial look. He knew his wife would have loved the look of it and him in it.

“So Do’Lânqwa, any questions?”

***

Do’Lânqwa sat back in the seat of his gifted jet, another aide in his new role. He had just left the planet’s orbit and was able to start trying to track The 45th. It seemed an impossible task. He still didn’t want to do it and a big part of him wanted to completely disregard his orders and consequences. But maybe there was a chance for that when the infant was saved and The 45th dealt with.

The 45th had been exiled and was with the infant. They would not have been able to get very far in the Prison Pod, which was equipped with two weeks’ worth of food supplies.

Do’Lânqwa played around with the control panel, activating a scan for universal activity, searching for any abnormal levels of cosmic particle energy. Almost instantly, a vast number of locations appeared, some recording a higher level of recent or current activities and some more distant in time since or in geography than others.

He noted the strong indication on a particular planet but hesitated when he realised which one. The planet had one of the strongest readings, suggesting some very recent occurrence, but was out of bounds and in violation of the Cross Galaxial Multi Planetary Alliance Pact, which had been in place for longer than he had been alive.

Looking down at his suit, and catching sight of his badge, Do’Lânqwa activated the astral shift on the jet and headed for the forbidden planet. After all, he was the Astral Sheriff now, and this was his jurisdiction.

***

“Wake up. Wake up, Kimona!” Kimona jerked awake and looked around.

Adam and Raj were still fast asleep. They had been eating pizza and watching the news coverage of her exploits last night, and clearly not made it from the sofas. She made a mental note to actually try and make it to a bed for sleep. Sofas were not conducive to a good rest.

“Kimona, quick. Come here!” came the voice again urgently.

Kimona had a hard time adjusting to being awake and working out if she was imagining being spoken to. “Where?”

“To my aquatic chamber!”

“Voma?” Kimona got up, pulling the blanket off from her, and trudged over to the tank.

“There is something happening beyond the perimeter. You should check,” the fish explained.

The cat circled Kimona, wrapping its tail around her legs, perhaps thinking it was breakfast time.

“Remind me to ask you later how you know that,” Kimona said, turning away and towards the front door, ignoring the cats seduction. As she passed, Adam stirred but remained asleep. Kimona edged closer to the door and peered through the peep hole.

“What is it?” Voma asked from her tank at the other side of the open plan living space.

“I… I don’t know. I’m from 1939, I don’t know what things are anymore,” Kimona said, still watching through the peep hole.

She recognised the form of a human, with its back to the house, all in black and gold. He was facing some sort of… well, Kimona wasn’t entirely sure but it had wings so she imagined it to be a plane of some sort but not like hers looked. She turned the door handle and opened the door. The strange figure turned and Kimona gulped.

Do’Lânqwa turned back around when he heard a noise. Stood in front of him at the building, registering the most interest was a youngish female, her black, frizzy hair done up and wearing a top too big for her and trousers that finished mid-thigh. Do’Lânqwa’s internal HUD informed him the atmosphere was safe. No one said anything for what seemed to be a while.

Eventually, “Can I help you?” the female asked, bravely crossing the threshold and walking down the path towards him. From the building, an adolescent male appeared wearing similar thigh long trousers and an oversized sweater.

The scanner in Do’Lânqwa’s helmet picked up different readings for the two people, with the advancing female registering off the scale levels of hormones, tissue and cell reconfiguration and higher levels than normal of H2O. The adolescent male had high levels of testosterone but wasn’t registering as anything special or like this female.

Do’Lânqwa wasn’t used to multitasking and had taken his eye off the now quite close female. Fixing his attention back to her, he decided to keep his suit on for the time being.

“I’m looking for someone,” he simply said, hoping his vagueness would elicit a reaction.

“What makes you think ‘Someone’ is here?” the female tested.

“I’ve been all around this settlement following traces of intense recent cosmic energy, and the trail ended here. That’s what makes me think my someone is here,” he explained. This wasn’t going anywhere, he thought, pressing the badge on his belt.

The whole suit released its hold of his form and concertinaed back into the badge, which remained in situ on his belt. The adult female stepped back and turned behind to face the adolescent behind her.

“Woaaah, your skin?” she blurted out of curiosity and awe.

“Kimona!” the adolescent worryingly warned, hissing. “We don’t comment on the differences in the colour of people’s skin nowadays.”

To her, he looked human, but not-from-here human. He had short platinum blonde hair and loomed above the others at six and a half feet. What set him apart though was his striking violet eyes and in respects to where her attention was drawn, his skin was a midnight black due to how melanistic it appeared to be.

“Yes, our skins do appear different. Good observation. Our planet’s sun emits a type of radiation which has had an effect on how we have genetically evolved. I’m already aware that our suns are composed of different energies.”

“So you’re not from around here?” she remarked, stating the obvious.

“But neither are you, right?” Do’Lânqwa guessed back.

She shrugged, and a playful smirk grew across her face. “So is it me you’re looking for then? Because it’s just that we had a busy day yesterday and it’s the middle of the night now.”

“And she’ll still kick your ass!” the adolescent male piped up, boldly coming out from behind the female.

“I don’t doubt that, young one,” noting that he wasn’t lying. “But alas, upon seeing you, I know you are not who I am looking for,” he finished.

“Who are you then and where are you from? You can at least tell us that for disturbing us tonight,” reasoned the adolescent.

“Very well, but only because I can tell that she has a story to tell too,” and with that, Do’Lânqwa strode off past the two and in to the house, letting them follow behind.

Do’Lânqwa was the master of conversation and knew exactly what to ask to get his new acquaintances talking without having to give information of his own.

He’d learnt that the female was called Kimona but was going to adopt an alias, much like what Do’Lânqwa found himself doing reluctantly. He knew all about her plane crash and her acquisition of abilities, which Do’Lânqwa assessed was the reason for the scanner initially picking up high levels of cosmic particles signalling recent activity.

The adolescent male was called Adam and there was another inside the house called Raj. He had been asleep but was not anymore.

Now though, Do’Lânqwa was itching to leave. Any more time spent talking was time wasted from following the different trails potentially out there still. This was one of his strongest leads, but there were plenty others across the galaxies.

“Right, well I’ll be off. It was pleasant enough meeting you,” Do’Lânqwa said, speaking as if he was meeting old friends. He got up. The two boys shared a glance at each other with raised eyebrows.

“You’ve not told us who you are.”

“Or even actually anything!” accused the adolescents.

Do’Lânqwa sighed and sat back down. They deserved him to extend the same courtesy they had given him. “Long story shortened, I… I have newly acquired the alias ‘The Astral Sheriff’,” Do’Lânqwa started, still getting used to referring to himself by his new title. “It’s a new name. One I didn’t come up with it,” he muttered in slight embarrassment. At least the adolescents seemed impressed. Kimona just tilted her head slightly. In good grace, he continued. “Look, where I’m from, someone did a terrible thing. And they had been exiled from my planet, with an infant they abducted. And I have to continue my search to get the infant back. I thought that I was perhaps in the right place, but evidently, what I tracked was traces of your venture yesterday. I apologise for waking you all up.” Do’Lânqwa headed for the door.

“Is there any way we can help?” Raj offered.

Everyone turned to look at him, possibly simultaneously thinking, ‘really?!’.

“Well… I guess anything that Kimona can do to help?” he added sheepishly. Kimona sarcastically flashed a grin.

“Um, sure. If I need anything, I know, um, where to come to,” Do’Lânqwa politely replied with a half-hearted, acknowledging smile.

He turned, activating his suit as he walked back to his jet, which was still parked out in the middle of the cul-de-sac. A curious neighbour’s cat scuttled off as the Astral Sheriff opened the jet door.

Booting the engines, the scanner reinitiated, refreshing in its search of potentially relevant activities. Do’Lânqwa looked over some of the leads he potentially identified prior to visiting Kimona and the males, when an icon started urgently flashing red.

***

“I appreciate you taking care of me and that, but you're an idiot for volunteering me up just then!” scolded Kimona as she pattered across the wood flooring of the kitchen. The front door had just been shut.

“Kim, he’s an alien bloke from space- he’s the type of guy we want to be helping!” defended Raj.

“What bit of hearing ‘alien bloke from space’ out loud, doesn’t concern you Raj? Besides, I need sleep. I’m sure he can look after himself out there,” Kimona groaned, plodding back. “Night Voma. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Is he still out there, Ad?”

“Yeah, he just got into his jet,” he answered, turning away from the window back to the sofa. “It’s four thirty am. Do you think we should go to our beds?” wondered Adam.

“Probably, but if I’m honest, I’m just going to lie back on this sofa. It’s soooo much nearer,” was Kimona’s response.

A knock on the door stopped everyone in their intended tracks. Adam went to open it and saw a suited up Astral Sheriff stood there.

“Any chance of that assistance?”

Up next in The Power of Three #1 ‘The Calvary’s Arrived’!...

The Astral Sheriff and Agwé meet three new allies as they take on a serious threat to life on Earth.