It turned out the for the moment, their budding partnership didn’t mean much. Now that they knew Hunter could be trusted not to go telling everyone he knew about where the Seedhans were located, they let him go. They said that there were a lot of things they couldn’t tell him yet, and that he needed to consult with the other lodges about him and their plans for the future.
The fact that other lodges had survived, and that apparently their main Temple also remained, was something which Hunter felt conflicted about. He had no concrete numbers, but he got the impression that many had been evacuated to this sacred, and secret, place. But the Seedhans were under the impression that the Peacekeepers were searching for the Temple. Not just for the Seedhans, but for the Temple itself.
That was enough for him to know that he never wanted the Peacekeepers to find it. He would help however he could, within reason, to ensure that those hidden-away Seedhans were never found.
Along with some more of the less useful valuables stashed away in the lodge, Rue gave Hunter a medallion, signifying him as something of a neophyte among their order. It was ‘activated,’ and apparently it was something of a calling card between outsiders who knew of their existence, and had some level of trust with them. In other words, co-conspirators. In its dormant state, Hunter couldn’t tell what kind of etheric principles the medallion had been designed with
The Seedhans would also use it to contact Hunter. It had been modified to act as a compass, pointing him towards wherever he was being hailed from. They would let him know when they were ready to brief him. In the meantime, he was to continue purusing his goals as if he had never met them. That wasn’t a problem, as far as Hunter was concerned. He still needed to get stronger, and find out as much as he could about the Peacekeepers both in and beyond the camp.
The most optimal next step towards those goals, as far as he could discern, was with Os.
As he left the lodge, Rue assured Hunter that they would take care disposing of Raspy and Dumby’s bodies. Now that a few hours had passed since the fight, Hunter didn’t feel as much animosity towards the two. The way he’d been referring to them felt dishonorable. He didn’t hate them. He certaintly didn’t like them, but he understood them to a small extent. Seedha was hardly a place for compassion. Back on their home worlds, they might have been fine people. The rule of law, the social consequences for certain actions, it’s typically enough to keep people in line.
Hunter didn’t know what those two had experienced during their time here. He doubted they’d had many people to care for. Maybe they’d been on Seedha for years, and had found themselves growing both desperate and cold hearted towards their fellows.
There was a time, not too long ago, where Hunter had thought he’d end up growing cold towards the lives of others, like his father had. But the higher his AR had risen, the less like his father he seemed. He didn’t know what had happened to Gideon Koar, in the end. Day by day, he found himself less interested in the details.
All Hunter knew was that the man that Gideon Koar became was not his father. Hunter’s family was now thousands of worlds away from where Gideon Koar died.
Such thoughts accompanied him back into the camp. He stopped by the provisions tent and traded the cheapest of his loot to the man behind the counter.
“Tickets, is it?” the man asked. Hunter nodded and accepted 48 tickets for the salvage, and bought himself a new shirt as well as some cheap pants. Then he had his canteen refilled, and restocked on rations.
He only had 8 tickets left, but he didn’t mind. He planned on seeing if Os would be able to fence some of his more valuable stuff to the Peacekeepers for a better pay-day. Or maybe Os would have some other merchandise to trade for it.
The market was surprisingly busy, but what surprised him more was the amount of drinking he saw. Hunter had to dodge wandering drunks, and almost got into a few fights when inebriated belligerents seemed to take issue with his meandering vectors. Hunter wasn’t tempted to get into another brawl. He now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could defend himself from any of the slaves. But his body tired beyond anything that Uma’s Second Wind could help with, and he also wanted to avoid attracting the attention of Peacekeepers who might have drank their inhibitions away.
He found Os’s tent by accident. It wasn’t in its usual spot.
“Hunter! I was thinking I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow,” Os said as Hunter stepped around the bodyguard and into the large tent. The man was eating from a large tray of kebabs. Os grabbed one with his free hand and offered it to him.
Hunter bit into the offered meat without hesitation. It wasn’t seasoned, it was dry, and burnt a third of the way through.
Maybe it was because he was too tired to care for his usual concerns about social grace that Hunter moaned at the taste of it. He closed his eyes and his body went weak and he melted into the chair set up across from Os.
“It’s been so long,” Hunter said.
“Here,” Os said. Hunter opened his eyes and found Os raising his eyebrow but holding out a few more kebabs. “Eat another and bring some for your friends.”
“You sure?” Hunter asked, but he still gathered the kebabs together before the man changed his mind. He was about to shift them into his storage space, but he remembered who he was with. Instead, he just gathered them together on his side of the table.
The table looked clean enough for him to keep the kebabs on. He wasn’t sure how far the greater universe had advanced in their knowledge of microbiology. Asking the man if he’d disinfected the surface might seem a bit week in this setting.
“So, what brings you to my tent? Enjoying the evening’s festivities?”
“What is everyone celebrating? Are they setting everyone free?”
“Could you imagine?” Os said. He let loose a small bark of laughter and shook his head, “No, no. The Fleet Commander made an announcement earlier about marking today as an official holiday. For the Peacekeepers and loyalists, at least. Slaves will have to meet their quota’s, but they’re still able to share in some of the merriment once they return from their labours.”
Even in Hunter’s exhausted, mentally drained state, the idea of an official holiday seemed a bit off to Hunter.
“I love a party as much as the next guy,” Hunter said. “Official holiday seems a tad too, um…”
The word was escaping him. Maybe because he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it yet.
“Well, I’ve not yet had the honor of serving aboard a Peacekeeper vessel, so I’m not privvy to the various freedoms and governing powers the Peacekeepers grant their Fleet Commanders. As far as you and I know, this is normal. I presume that, given our immense distance from the Peacekeeper’s sphere of influence, the Fleet Commander is at liberty to find reason to let his crew celebrate. All work and no play makes for a very grumpy internment force.”
Os grew more animated as he spoke, and his voice a tad more forceful. He caught the scent of alcohol on the man’s breath. He wondered if the man’s true feelings about his—what, employers?—were coming to the surface.
He didn’t seem too attached to them.
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“That might be the case,” Hunter said, taking another bit of his meat skewer and resisting the make any more unnecessary mouth sounds. “Their sphere of influence can’t be too far away, though, can it?”
“It can, young man. It can. Some would say that it’s a bit too far out of the Peacekeeper’s sphere of influence. We are a very long way from the frontier lands of the empires and guilds and sects and that sort,” Os said, waving his hand towards the sky. “Am I take it that you were born in this sector?”
“Sort of,” Hunter said, not sure how much he should give away. After a moment of thought, he realized that he didn’t have much reason to hide the basics. “My people only came to the sector recently. But we come from somewhere much further away.”
“Further away than the outer fringe?” Os said.
“Yeah, much farther,” Hunter said. But he decided to leave it at that.
“Well, I suppose it’s possible some old monster left the core worlds at some point and struck out on his own,” Os muttered. “Anyways, let’s hush this talk about fleets for now. Maybe we’ll save it for a time we aren’t surrounded by ears.”
“Sure,” Hunter said, surprised by the man’s willingness to talk. He wasn’t naive enough to wonder if Os was fishing for a way to catch a potential rebel.
“All that aside, then, let’s discuss why you’re here.”
“A few reasons,” Hunter said, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. “I’m wondering if its too late in the day to grab a job from you, and I was also wondering if you could help me find a good deal for some of my newest salvage.”
“As far as jobs go, I have plenty, but nothing I’d trust giving to you in the state you’re in. Come by tomorrow after you’ve got a good day’s rest and we can talk. Regarding your second request, you’ve come to the right man! Are you looking for tickets, personal credit, or an equal exchange?”
Hunter pursed his lips.
“Maybe a combination of the three?”
Os merely nodded and started to move his food out of the way. Hunter followed suit and moved his small portion to the side as well.
“Go ahead and show me what you’ve got,” Os said. Then he whistled.
The bodyguard leaned over, not quite looking inside the tent, still managing to keep an eye on what was going on outside.
“We aren’t to be interrupted,” Os said.
The bodyguard nodded and resumed his duties.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Hunter realized that he’d brought everything in his storage ring. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable with the situation.
“Can I rely on your discretion?”
Os rose an eyebrow.
“Depends on what you want to be kept discrete. I am a merchant, after all. One is good standing with the Peacekeepers, I’ll remind you.”
“Are you saying that you’ll have to talk if they were ever to ask about what we were discussing?”
Os shookd his hand, indicating that Hunter was on the right track but not quite on the mark.
“They allow me some room for secrets. They see nothing wrong with fostering competition amongst their workforce—whether that’s slaves, loyalists, or merchants. Merchants fall into something of a grey area. On one hand, the higher-ups find it easier to work with us rather than against us. They control the markets, you see. In exchange, their men get discounts and their leaders get free access to whatever they need for themselves. But they are very clear that whatever space we can carve out for ourselves in the markets they oversee is provided by their grace and can be taken away without warning. So, I do my best to keep them happy, and they provide me with an opportunity to find and capitalize on opportunities at the expense of my competition.”
“Seems to me like your freedom is something of an illusion.”
“You could say that,” Os said, “but it’s real enough for me to make use of, at least for now. So that’s all you need to know about that, I figure. I’ll keep our business secret so long as it doesn’t implicate my business in anything the Peacekeepers would consider nefarious.”
Hunter wanted to laugh at the irony. The Peacekeepers worrying about nefarious business? Nefarious was their bread and butter.
But Hunter supposed he could understand. There had to be some order kept amongst the chaos that could ensue when criminals acted together.
Still, a picture was forming in Hunter’s mind. It was hazy, but it was there.
Some would say it’s a bit too far out of the Peacekeeper’s sphere of influence, Os had said.
He brought his attention back to the business at hand. Os would probably find out about his storage ring eventually.
“What i’m about to share is something that I don’t want leaving this tent,” Hunter said. “If there ever comes a time when you are tempted to sell the information, come to me first so I can buy your silence.”
“If we weren’t in the middle of a slave encampment on a desolate world, I’d find your words to be insulting, Mr. Hunter. But I can understand your hesitance. And I understand that telling you that you can trust me within reason, so long as what you’re sharing doens’t violate the boundary i’ve stated, wouldn’t mean much to you right now. So I’ll agree to your proposition. I’ll come to you to sell you your privacy should the need arise,” Os said, sticking his hand out for Hunter to shake.
Hunter was glad that some gestures seemed universal. Hunter shook the offered hand.
It was a huge risk he thought. His storage ring was an advantage he’d offered to the Seedhans. He figured he could carry good between them and others, or basic supplies if they were needed. He suddenly hesitated.
Before he could change his mind, he started to pull out the loot the Seedhans had offered him, as well as whatever he’d found lying around. Among the objects were also a few things he’d found on bodies of Raspy and Dumby.
Os squinted his eyes as he analyzed what Hunter had arrayed across the table. He leaned over the table, leaning on his knuckles, and closed his eyes.
“Storage rings aren’t so special that i’d be tempted to take it, if that’s what you feared. I’ll keep your secret, but boy, what you’ve given me might be enough to undo both of us. Tell me, where did you find all of this?”
Hunter froze.
“Don’t tell me. I know the signs of finding a lodge when I see one,” Os said. He sat back down in his seat and sighed. “This is not how I thought this evening would go.”
Hunter started to feel incredibly nervous. He wondered if it would be worth taking it all back before he made a run for his life, or leaving it all behind.
He’d regret that he wouldn’t be able to honour the small sacrifice the Seedhans had made in letting him have all of the scattered valuables. It had been meant to keep up appearances and help him meet his quotas.
“Don’t look like I just threatened your life boy. I’m not saying there isn’t a way to do this, we just need to be careful. And let’s agree to keep this between us, alright? Don’t tell anyone else about what you found, or where you found it.”
“Um, I traded some of the less valuable stuff for some supplies and tickets,” Hunter said. Os rubbed his eyes.
“That should be fine,” he said, “It’s the ceremonial objects that will attract the wrong attention. Seedhan religion was a monolith throughout their culture. Some artifacts were more common than others. As long as you didn’t sell anything from the Repository or the Communion Chamber, you should be in the clear.”
All he’d done was give away one of the pamphlets he’d found in the lobby, as well as a small silver bracelet that one of the Seedhans had said wasn’t worth much at all.
“I should be fine, then,” Hunter said. “The Repository, is that a room that’s covered in murals?”
“That’s the one, aye. Did you notice anything special about the room?”
Hunter shook his head.
“It was dark, what little light leaked through from the opening I’d made showed some paintings. I could tell that they stretche across the walls, but not much more than that.”
Os nodded.
“This is all worth more than you know, but I’ll have to sell it piecemeal around the camp. Unfortunately, exchanging for tickets from the Peacekeepers is out of the question. They have a hard-on for this sort of thing, and you don’t want to be around when they get too excited about Seedhan lodge artifacts. That means i’ll have to deal with various colleagues, splitting the artifacts among with some other goods,” Os said. He was rubbing his chin and muttering by the end, and Hunter got the impression that it was more for his own sake than Hunter’s.
“So, no tickets. That leaves credit, and equal exchange. I’d recommend store credit, given how long this all going to take to offload.”
Offload seemed to be a loaded term. Hunter suddenly felt guilty for not thinking this through.
“Then I’ll take it. How much credit can you give me?”
“A lot, Hunter. A lot. And i’ll throw in some extra for personal reasons. That’ll give you access to a significant portion of my stock. I’ll probably have to give you the V.I.P. treatment for all of this, but I think I have another idea that you’ll be interested in. It’ll be like killing two idiots with one swing.”
The saying was almost too on-the-nose for Hunter’s comfort, but he was confident that there was no way that Os knew about his fight with the two slaves.
“Ah, that is to say, it’ll solve multiple problems at once.”
Hunter forced out a small laugh.
“I understand,” he said.
Os nodded. He seemed lost in thought.
“Come by tomorrow morning. I’ll pitch my offer to you then. Get a full night of sleep Hunter. You look like you need it.”
Hunter left the tent feeling empty. Empty of energy, empty of valuables, and empty of assurances that everything was going to work out in his favor.
After walking for a solid 15 minutes without a negative altercation, Hunter was feeling good about his odds of making it home without having to take any significant detours. But then someone called out from nearby. It was a voice that Hunter recognized, and the last voice he ever wanted to hear.
“Mr. Hunter.”
His heart fell to his gut. He turned to look at the man leaning against a small fence seperating the street from a complex of tents.
Atuza, the loyalist turned Peacekeeper, considered Hunter with a cold gaze.
“You and I need to have a little chat.”