Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Sixthmonth, 1634 PTS
Overall, Orion had a very positive view of his new task these past weeks. Life form trafficking was an incredibly prosperous profession, and he knew that contracts with pharmaceutical corporations was the heart of the industry. Sure, it was illegal, but that was what it meant to be part of the underworld. He appreciated that Rachel had given him this opportunity. Even if he wasn’t able to take the profits, he would certainly be able to skim some of the proceeds off the top for himself.
The main issue was choosing targets, which might have been quite difficult had he been alone. However, once again Rachel had come through. He had no idea what source she was using, but she seemed to be an expert at identifying lowlives who nobody would miss.
In fact, this assisted with Orion’s apprehensions about the matter. In his estimation, if nobody cared to even notice you were gone, did your life even matter?
Moreover, the task might have given him access to a priceless opportunity. If Heutel had been telling him the truth, she might be able to bring him manifest treasures. And presumably, if her experiment worked, it would not only be one, but a source of as many treasures as the sect needed. And that alone was enough to redouble Orion’s dedication to the Redwater Sect. He would not mind a future as the Elder of a force with so much potential. The relative ethics of the process could be set aside in the face of such benefits.
And to accomplish it, he only needed to find and capture a sufficiently advanced manifest practitioner. It seemed a simple matter, but in practice it was anything but. Orion’s kind was rare in Tseludia. Back in Veraillen, manifest practitioners had been the predominant variety. There, the Seven Winds Sect had been the leading martial power, a sect which specialized in the manifest arts. Much like had occurred with the Hadal Clan’s techniques, the sect’s lesser arts had leaked out into the general population, and manifest practitioners were the most common of the station’s martial artists.
Orion himself had learned his arts from a rogue former disciple of the sect.
In Tseludia, however, outside of the Redwater Sect, Orion only knew of a handful of other manifest practitioners, none of which had reached the meridian establishment realm. Perhaps they might only be found in the Hadal Clan, a force he dared not tangle with unless the entire sect stood with him. And the alternative, to raise one of his own disciples enough to sacrifice them after they reached the requisite stage… it did not appeal to him.
Of course, he could also continue to search for other sources of miasmic treasures. Perhaps there was a black marketeer who held such an item in stock. The possibility was reasonable, but still not as appealing as the merits of providing the sect with an inexhaustible supply. He would take that path only if it were necessary, or if the opportunity simply stumbled upon him.
Regardless, he still had plenty of time to make his final decision. Orion had yet to truly reach the pinnacle of the core formation realm, after all. He was nearing it, however. Within half a year at the latest he should have reached the bottleneck. By then, he wished to be ready to take the next step.
Another matter he was forced to pay attention to was his charges. The development of the majority of his disciples left much to be desired, though Orion knew that he was just being impatient. Developing for himself an elite force would take time, much longer than he had hoped. He found it unlikely that he would ever bother to acquire more in the future, unless their talents were such that he was left with no other choice. Talents like that of the girl that Cyrus had brought to him personally.
Sashan Ji was her name, a bold girl who was far too willing to speak her mind, and extremely skilled at getting on Orion’s nerves. Her talent with the manifest arts was admirable, to the point where Orion was almost jealous. But the problem was simply her personality. It grated on him. The girl was too uptight, and always complained about the way he chose to live his life. At times, she felt more like a nagging sister than a disciple.
If he had someone with whom to joke about such things, Orion would have joked that he might sacrifice her to the Staiven, once she reached the next level. It would have been a cruel jest, but such jokes were something best kept to himself. It was not particularly funny, and he did not truly mean it, anyway.
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Still, he wished he had someone to discuss such matters with. His subordinates were out of the question, each and every one of them a lowly gangster who had been cowed into line by the Sect Leader. The only ones with any potential had already been turned into the Palace Leaders or their direct underlings.
Ran was a good woman, and she had been a good lay in the time since he had joined the sect, but Orion had no interest in settling down, at least not in that sense. She did not seem to bear such interests either, and their relationship was purely physical. Perhaps that mentality would change as he aged, but his focus remained fully entrenched within his own interests. Only when he reached the next threshold and further strengthened his lifespan would he ever bother to consider such matters.
Regardless, under orders from the Vice-Sect Leader, he was to keep their involvement in the trafficking business a secret from her, as he did from everyone else as well. Such was the cost of doing business behind the Sect Leader’s back.
Once again, he considered the matter of the manifest meridian establisher. Thinking alone would do no good. If he wanted to make this bright future a reality, Orion would need to take action. But where would he find one, he wondered? Perhaps it was best to go to the one he usually approached with such questions. Rachel had been an expert hand at finding suitable individuals before. Surely, if an unaligned manifest practitioner existed on the station, either she or Eli would know. He rose from his seat, marching over to the places she frequented inside the sect. The lull in Little Celah had given him some free room to maneuver, and if he was ever to go hunting, now would be the best time.
Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Sixthmonth, 1634 PTS
Eigel waited patiently in the well-furnished room, enjoying the pleasant scent of the Canvasian incense. Had he been a humanoid, he would undoubtedly have been offered tea, something that he lacked the organs to imbibe. Instead, he had been left to wait with a fine scent to enjoy, one picked specifically to appeal to members of his race. This was an expensive scent, he knew, and it had undoubtedly been imported all the way from the Canvasian homeworld.
But Eigel was not impressed by such a paltry offering. In fact, he expected no less from any such force he deigned to visit. He was the emissary of the Margrave Corporation, one of the most influential forces in the entire Pantheonic Territory. Such a weak, small underworld faction populated only by aliens would normally be far from enough to garner his attention. However, the current situation had been enough to change that. A unique opportunity had presented itself, and he did not wish to miss it. For that reason, he had ventured here in person, only to be left waiting.
This was an unusual experience for him, Eigel was not impatient. He could handle the posturing of these aliens, to fulfil the corporate agenda. His career would greatly benefit if this investment were to pay off.
To that end, for once he had arrived bearing no tricks, but merely an offer that would be mutually beneficial to both of their factions. If anything, he was being too reasonable, but despite that, Eigel still found himself uncertain as to whether this Matriarch of theirs would agree to his contract. One could never know the workings of an inferior species’ mind.
Eventually, the door opened, and a Seiyal man wearing a formal robe politely bowed before him. Eigel found their use of a door rather than a hatch quite interesting and unusual. Despite the simplicity of it, it had taken him embarrassingly long to figure out how to operate the mechanism. Eigel analyzed the soul of the man who entered, noting that it spoke of a martial artist of the core formation realm. The Matriarch’s aide, perhaps? Or her seneschal?
“The Matriarch will see you now,” he said, and Eigel rose to his feet, taking one last whiff of the incense. It truly did have a pleasant scent.
“In that case,” said Eigel, his tone calm and assured, “kindly lead the way.”
The martial artist obliged without comment, and Eigel stalked down the corridor. As he walked, he silenced all of his internal reservations, and stilled his mind. This negotiation would be vital, but he would come out of this on top. And the moment the Justice Office ceased their guard, he would be ready to take action.
The Margrave Corporation: [One of the most influential of all Staiven corporations, Margrave has existed since soon after the Pantheonic era began, and forty percent of its ownership is held by the Church of Fulstovis. Margrave has branches in the vast majority of all Staiven-held stations and worlds, and owns thousands of companies and brands. They even hold total mining rights for several planets. One notable factor that sets Margrave apart from its opposition is the fact that 84% of its management is composed of Staiven who were raised and groomed for their specific role, and give their full loyalty to the corporation. Many believe that this program is a large part of the corporation’s success, and in recent decades, several other corporations have attempted to replicate such investments on a trial basis.]