Sandra Parker, a public defender, who lived alone with her dog, was sitting in her living room cuddling with her German Shepard while watching TV:

"Breaking news! A serial killer remains on the loose! Unfortunately, the authorities have no eyewitnesses and cannot provide a description of the suspect. They recommend keeping your doors and windows shut and locked, alarm systems or security cameras on, and calling 911 if you see or hear anything suspicious."

"Oh my, Oliver, this is crazy! I heard that psycho already killed ten people this month. But you'll protect me, right, boy?"

Oliver sat up and barked.

"Good boy!" She patted him on the head.

As Sandra lay in bed with the window partially cracked open but secured, she heard something rustling in the trees and bushes. Oliver growled. She sat up and saw a mysterious, shadowy figure lurking about once the backyard floodlights had automatically turned on.

She started to dial 911, but the phone disconnected, and the power went out …

Oliver frantically barked until a bolt of electricity crackled through the bedroom window, striking him. He yelped, twitched, and fell unconscious, apparently still alive and breathing.

A tall, slim, gray humanoid alien materialized right before her, holding a knife-like weapon sparkling with electricity. The alien smirked and chuckled under its foul-smelling breath.

"Oh my God!" she screamed.

But something zapped it, leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke.

The creature's ashes dropped all over the floor.

"You're safe now, human," said another grey alien passing through the dissipating smoke.

"Who are you?" Sandra coughed.

"I'm a galactic bounty hunter-judge for hire."

"You speak English!"

"Yes, I must. Part of my required skillset is fluency in native languages."

"I see. Was that a fugitive?" She pointed at the ashes below.

"A fugitive?" The alien looked at a device for definitions. "Oh, no, not an escapee. A runaway."

"What's the difference?"

The alien clicked on the device, projecting a holographic image of a spinning Earth as it scrolled through a series of symbols. "I understand. Your world is a primitive non-space-faring civilization that still offers imprisonment. We always vaporize violent criminals."

"You don't have a justice system?" Sandra gasped.

"We do ad hoc and under contract. There's neither time nor resources to deal with violent criminals. So for us, runaways or fugitives, or whatever you wish to call them, are very rare."

"When you say vaporize? That means you execute them, right? How savage!"

"Savage? Not at all. No Galactic member planet has violent crime. It's the only way for all of us to maintain a progressive, cooperative, and peaceful open-for-galactic trading consortium."

"That doesn't explain why you execute criminals instead of rehabilitating or imprisoning them."

"We have no choice, human. We've mastered teleportation. Space is a big and complicated place. Violent crime would run rampant, disrupting our peaceful co-existence."