One Day, it Rained.

I had just recently joined up with the garrison, it was the first investigation that I was a

part of, but if you really want to get to those murders you need to think about one that had

happened about a month earlier. The reason I got the job. Keep in mind I wasn't on this case and

have only heard the story; 'The Little Bucket who Shouldn't Have.'

As it was with most of the outer colonies; it was a normal day for us. Another murder,

another dead man on government payroll. Everyday badges started looking a lot more like

targets to the inhabitants. A few groups of particularly rebellious kids started popping up. They

were hoping for some change that would never come, it was obviously nothing more than those

groups escalating. Simple vandalism no longer filled their thirst for justice on the just. Yet, one

woman didn't see it as that, she saw something the whole garrison didn't.

Mrs. Veronica Baker lead a simple life, one of comfort. Married to an officer, and a

fantastic politician on her own, she firmly believed on doing the "right thing, the right way". She

was an active supporter of the return of the people's rights which had been restricted ever since

the war, despite that ending years ago. She was even an activist for "Mechanist Rights" trying to

get buckets to be recognized as people, ironic given what happened.

Everyday she'd wish her husband off, then head off to the offices, Maybe give a few

speeches, attended a few meetings, then make it home just in time for the meal ready rations

freshly thawed on the table. Simple. Comfortable. Till that life became a little less comfortable.

Veronica knew it was an unusual day, even before she knew. It was raining in the colony,

that hardly ever happened. The ground was usually divided into sharp cracks, when it did rain

floods were common. Veronica splashed in a rush as she ran for the apartment she called home.

Rain pattered all around her, "Should've brought that umbrella" she muttered finally at

the door. She fumbled around for her card. She was always misplacing that little bit of plastic

that dictated her life. It worked as her wallet, ID, and house key. The only person she'd heard of

losing it more than her was her husband: Mitch. Especially before he gave up drinking.

Finally finding it after fumbling through every pocket it could be she tried the door and

rushed into the hallway. She sighed with relief just to get out of the rain. She Looked to the

elevator and saw that the little red indicator was glowing, meaning someone was already using it.

She shrugged deciding to take the stairs. Ever since she started that politics business she hadn't

got a chance to exercise as much as she had wished. A single flight of stairs hardly made up for

it, but it put her mind at ease.

Finally making her way up the stairs, something was off. The door just down the hallway,

to her apartment was ajar. Her heart skipped a beat. It must be nothing, maybe Mitch stepped

out for a moment. Still she continued with a jump to her step, worry deep in her heart. Finally

making it to her door she gasped. Her husband had left her, and without ever stepping outside

that room.

Veronica dropped to her knees sobbing, her husband laid just in view, near the kitchen,

yet still in the living room. The carpet, once a crisp white, was stained with a splash of deep

crimson.

You could guess how it went from there. The garrison was eventually called. By the time

they arrived on scene, Veronica had calmed down, well calmed down as much as someone who

had just lost their husband of multiple years could.

Team after team came in, each asking the same questions over and over again. Eventually

the big honcho himself walked in; Rick Masterson. He was the local police governor at the time,

a position he had earned through his service in the war. He was known as being particularly

ruthless, doing anything in the name of the United.

"Veronica.. I'm sorry" Rick said, sadness in his eyes, "I shouldn't say this, but since

you're a friend. We think we have a suspect, we're sending someone their now"

Veronica stood blankly, looking at nothing yet everything.

"I've assigned my best detective unit to the case.. It-" He trailed off, before gentle

grasping Veronicas shoulders.

"We're gonna get him." He choked down sadness, "You're husband was one of the good

ones. A friend." Rick let go, sighing. He lightly rubbed his beard and started for the door.

"Where's the detective?" Veronica finally managed

"Just there" Rick pointed as he left the apartment. Veronica followed his gesture to see a

figure in the apartment staring out her window. She walked up to him, and lightly tapped his

shoulder. The figure spun around on a dime, to reveal glowing yellow lenses where it's eyes

should be. On it's blue faceplate of a face laid a label that read, " ID-AGW" It seemed to light up

at the attention of a person.

"Hello Mrs Baker. I am ID-AGW.

My condolences. I was assigned to your case. I can assure you it is in good hands. We are doing everything we can."

It's voice was a deep monotone. "I have taken a look around and believe I can form

a conclusion of what happened."

"What have you found?"

"Response: The apartment overall is rather well neat, considering. The pale green walls,

white carpets are well kept and relatively free of debris. The window on the west side of the

home is broken. As are some photos on that windowsill. It was a picture of you and the late Mr.

Baker I believe. They have since been collected for evidence, but they were found on their back,

facing upward shattered as if stepped on. Nothing major is missing from the home save a few of

Mr. baker's garrison equipment, and his ID card. He has a reported history of losing his card, but

there is no excuse for the missing firearm. All security logs have been cleared, including but not

limited to; Door logs, security feeds, refrigerator ration log, as well as Mr. Bakers personal

phone, which has been cleared of any data. That was also collected for evidence. Mr. Baker was

found lying here" The bucket gestured to the kitchens entryway. "He had been stabbed several

times in the back, a short distance in front of him we had found a shattered glass, as well as an

alcoholic beverage spilled around the area. The glass shards have been taken as evidence."

"What do you make of this AGW?"

"Mrs. Baker, I can not discuss on-going- "

"Override: Omega"

"The clause here would suggest that an assailant had entered through the

window, stepped on the pictures, stabbed Mr. Baker while he had been fixing himself a drink.

Beyond that is classified senator."

"Override: Omega" Veronica repeated, a flare of anger in her voice.

"Beyond that is classified senator."

"Under what authority?"

"Beyond that is classified senator."

Veronica sighed in frustration and clenched her fists.

"Better get to work then AGW"

She slammed the door behind the bucket. Veronica fell to her knees hands covering her

face. It seemed to hit her all at once, her husband was gone, and the criminal had seemingly

gotten away, she felt hopelessly helpless, and alone.

Until a voice called out from the darkness.