“Is that you, Hunter?” Os said, a big smile on his face, “Heavens, you look like ground beef. I’m glad you made it out of that gauntlet alive.”

  “Almost didn’t,” Hunter said. His nerves had calmed, and the remains of the chemical and etheric cocktail that had just flushed through his system had left him shaking and feeling weak. Even the etherium flowing through his channels seemed slower than it should be. A strange, unpleasant feeling wafted around him, like an unpleasant aroma. He tried to remember what the doctor had said about the poison.

  He assumed it would be prudent to visit the doctor again soon. Just to be sure.

  “All’s well that ends well?” Os asked. Hunter didn’t have the energy spare to laugh, but he smiled.

  “We’ll see,” Hunter said. “Not sure I like the idea of someone like Rowen hunting for me.”

  Os narrowed his eyes.

  “You never know with the Peacekeepers. I’ll keep an ear out, but it might be a while before you hear from him again.”

  “What do you mean?” Hunter asked.

  “The Fleet Commander is making some changes. I can’t say much, but many of their officers are going to have their hands busy with another camp.”

  This felt like something that his people would be interested in hearing. He had a little time until the next meeting, and he’d like to deliver more to them than just some bad news.

  “Last time we met, you mentioned something about earning discounts for your wares?” Hunter asked.

  Os pursed his lips, but he didn’t appear bothered by Hunter’s comment. More like he was trying to shift his mind to a new track.

  “You’re interested in some work?” Os asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well,” Hunter said, considering how he should ask what was on his mind. His major concern was how close Os’s ties were with the Peacekeepers. “I’m interested, but I need to know how much discretion you can afford, as far as the Peacekeepers go.”

  “That’s a reasonable concern,” Os said. “After all, this is their world now, isn’t it? You heard what the Fleet Commander said. They’re very confident in their domination of this world, and the rest of the sector. So long as that’s the case, it looks like you and I are stuck here, eh? Now, while some discretion is necessary for most business ventures, my success on Seedha is contingent on cooperating with our,” Os cleared his throat, “great and powerful masters. Or leaders, or whatever they’re calling themselves these days. Can’t have them associating me with troublemakers, can I?”

  Hunter nodded along. He didn’t want to show that he was the same kind of troublemaker that the Peacekeepers were trying to root out.

  But he had some anonymity on his side. At least he did before Rowen tried to use him as an example of what will happen to those who try to rise on their own merit.

  Thinking of which, Hunter wondered what success meant to someone like Os.

  What did success mean when he was at the beck and call of the Peacekeepers? If the Peacekeepers gave him enough freedom to run his own merchant business, what did he give them in return? Was Os just a loyalist by another name?

  “Tell you what. I tend not to bring people on before I get to know them better, but I’ve got a good feeling about you. I’ll give you a few jobs, and we can use it as something of a mutual trial period. Sound good?”

  “You sure?” Hunter asked. “What about the Peacekeepers?”

  Os chuckled.

  “I’ll get them off of your trail. Do nothing stupid over the next few days. You’ll be watched from a distance. I predict Rowen will try to spin this as an insurrection attempt in order to save face. I’ll need to snuff the flames before they get out of control. You’re lucky that Mouse didn’t kill the man. It would have been a death sentence for both of you.”

  “Who would have thought that Mouse had it in him?” Hunter muttered.

  Os smiled.

  “Mouse only ever acted the way he did because he wanted people to think less of him. He may be one of the strongest men in Seedha. I’d hesitate to bet against him if it were a contest between him, Atuza, and the Fleet Commander.”

  Hunter had no trouble believing him. The man could turn into a high-tech turret in a split second. And he could move objects with his mind. Mouse’s Force-charged etherium felt like the Force glyphs Hunter knew, but was also strangely different. There was a personality to what he’d felt from Mouse, a dynamism that Hunter had never felt before.

  “It’s a shame,” Hunter said. “They’ll hunt him down now, right? I’d have liked to see more of his power.”

  “He’ll be on the run for now,” Os said. “But I doubt this’ll be the last time you hear about him. His name is Tarrek, by the way. Tarrek Nayel. The Champion, or Terror, of Whiterose. Depends on who you ask.”

  “You sound like an expert,” Hunter said. Os frowned, and Hunter wondered what he’d said wrong.

  “Nah, nothing like that. The Champion of Whiterose is infamous in this sector,” Os said.

  By now, they’d made it back to the outskirts of the camp. Hunter followed Os back to the man’s tent. From a small corner bag, he retrieved a bottle of amber liquid and two cups. The cups reminded Hunter of the fine porcelain at the Oberon estate on Sanctuary.

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  “A toast to new friends, eh?” Os said, placing one cup down in front of Hunter, and another down before himself. He filled them both with a couple of fingers worth of the liquid.

  “To our mutual success,” Hunter said, lifting the cup and drinking when Os did the same. It was a lot more sweet than he expected, like a liquid syrup. After a moment, a heat rose from his gut, right up his throat and onto his tongue. It wasn’t an unpleasant heat. It felt comforting.

  “Success,” Os said, repeating Hunter’s cheer. “What does it mean to you?”

  Hunter felt like he was at an interview.

  “I thought we already agreed that I got the job,” Hunter said, chuckling a bit.

  “Of course, but I’m curious about you, Mr. Hunter. You’ve a…” he tsk’d as he considered what to say. “Let’s say you’ve a spirit about you. I have something of a knack for spotting talent. You might seem like a lowly foundation establishment cultivator. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Do you have ambitions? Do you strive for anything beyond survival here?”

  “These feel like dangerous questions,” Hunter said, wondering if it was the drink that suddenly made him feel so confident with suddenly prying into Os’s motivations.

  Os nodded.

  “You’ve been through something of a crucible today, Hunter. A test of character. I’d like to tell you what I’ve noticed, but first, I’d like you to answer the question.”

  Hunter shrugged. It’s not like he needed to tell Os everything.

  “Success means I’m doing what I love and providing for all my friends and family.”

  Os smiled. It was genuine, as far as Hunter could tell.

  “Spoken without a hint of hesitation. You seem to understand yourself.”

  “Well, recent events have held up a lens to my values. It’s very clear to me what matters the most right now, and what doesn’t.”

  “Did you bring your family with you when you immigrated?” Os said, and Hunter took the chance to laugh.

  “Yeah. Got them all set up in a 5-star hotel.”

  “5-star?” Os asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not familiar with this way of ranking things.”

  He mouthed the word stars, as if he were testing it out.

  “Interesting. I guess I get the appeal. Where did you say you were from?”

  Hunter almost coughed. He was ready to tell him, just then. The drink had started to loosen his tongue a bit too much.

  “I’m just playing with you,” Os said, holding up both hands. When he lowered them, he leaned back and thought for a moment. “My turn. You know what I see, Hunter? Consider this; I’m sitting before a young man who has just been poisoned and almost beaten to death. After you watched someone tear one of your opponents nearly in half, and kill most of those who came after them, you aren’t filled with either fury or fear. If anything, you seem focused and able to keep moving forward without losing track of what’s important to you. The thing you seem to regret the most is that you didn’t have the chance to watch your hero use his power. Does that about sum it up?” Os asked.

  Hunter blinked. Os watched him with a smirk.

  “Yeah,” Hunter said. It was like the man had held up a mirror to him with his words. Not only that, but he hadn’t even taken the time to check how he felt about the fight, or about being ambushed, poisoned, and almost beaten to death. “You’re a very insightful guy.”

  “A crucial skill in my line of work,” Os said, staring into the middle distance with a wistful smile. Was he reminiscing about his time before coming here?

  Hunter felt nostalgic about his old conversations with Trey. He wished he could send him and Aera a message, to tell them he and the others are still alive. Such thoughts were tempting to get lost in, but Hunter wanted to avoid a sense of melancholy. There was too much that needed to be done.

  “Earlier you said that you’d place Mouse on par with both the Fleet Commander and Atuza.”

  Os sipped his drink and took a second to savour it.

  “I did say that. What about it?”

  Hunter nodded. Os leaned back in his seat.

  “I guess I’m the most curious about Atuza. What can you tell me about him?”

  Os shook his head and chuckled.

  “Best not to talk of him. It suffices to say that he’s about 80 years Tarrek’s junior, and is just as strong as the Champion was in his prime. He’s still got some growing to do as well. He might even reach Adept, if he plays his cards right.”

  “That,” Hunter said, pointing at Os. “Right there. What you just said, ‘if he plays his cards right.’”

  Os nodded. He understood where Hunter’s curiosity was coming from and what he was aiming for, but he seemed content to let Hunter continue asking the question.

  “If he’s so strong, why doesn’t he challenge the Fleet Commander? If he and Mouse had teamed up, they’d be free of this place by now.”

  “Aye, you’re right. There are a few reasons, Hunter. But only two are important. The first is that they’d both be more likely to kill each other and, I wager, neither feels confident about their odds. Atuza wouldn’t care as much, but Mouse’s motivations are a bit more complicated. The second reason is that they dont know what would happen if they were to kill the Fleet Commander. What are the chances that the Commander orders the fleet to gun them down as they escape?”

  “What do you mean?” Hunter asked as his mind worked through Os’s answer. He couldn’t stop his eyes from widening when he considered the implications.

  He couldn’t stop a sense of giddiness from bubbling up. What would happen if he told Os about the fleet, he wondered? How quickly would Os turn him in?

  Would he turn him in?

  The line of thought reminded him of his first conversation with Trey Oberon. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Os had anything close to his best interests at heart. And even if he did, Hunter doubted Os would have any way to prove his intentions, either. In that case, it was best to keep his cards close to his chest.

  “Without the fleet, maybe some people could be convinced to attempt an escape. But the Peacekeepers are invincible in this sector. Save some fabled Adepts skulking around who stay out of the affairs of others, no one can stand up to the Peacekeepers and live. An escape attempt would be suicide.”

  Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. His thoughts were threatening to spin out of control.

  He needed to talk with Jaspen. He needed to speak with everybody. But then he remembered how some of them had acted during the meeting.

  No, he decided. He’d share it with Jaspen and they would both decide what to do next.

  How many loyalists had signed up because they felt that there was no other option? Of course, that would be the majority motive. What else would it be? A lack of better options? None of the slaves had chosen to come here from what he could tell. Cozying up to the Peacekeepers was only palatable when things got desperate. Creature comforts and other perks were dangled before them, out of reach until they ate their own pride and bowed to their great Peacekeeper leaders.

  So, where did that leave him?

  If he shared the true status of the Peacekeeper fleet to everyone, he’d be called a liar and being sent to the gallows. So, what good was the information on his own merits?

  Not much good at all. Not as things stood.

  What he needed was accountability. He needed clout, and around here, clout only came with strength and the courage to use it.

  He and Os said goodbye, and Hunter agreed to visit in the next couple of days to collect his first job. It was quiet in the camp, and he didn’t run into any trouble on the way back. He saw the light on at the Doctor’s, but figured he could talk to the man the next day. The man would have his hands full for the next little while.

  When he made it back to his tent, he was relieved to find Jaspen already asleep. If he hadn’t been, he’d be tempted to tell him everything that had happened.

  He was thankful for even a few hours of sleep.