It took almost the rest of the night for her to reach Red Rest. It was nearly on the other side of the city, and what public transport was available after dark only accepted the local currency. She passed through more hanhas and more huge main streets, and a few that had more in common with the area she’d just left, though she didn’t see any that got quite as bad.
She did see signs of the current public mood. That aid organisation, whatever its name was, had many branches, and was in the business of arranging temporary housing for refugees here and there about the city. In some places the Pure Blood adherents were drawn to the scenes like flies to rot, bellowing menacingly and causing scenes. Sometimes the police were there to hold them at a distance or make the odd arrest, and sometimes those Tanga warriors were there to bust faces. The two sides with the common foe never seemed to bump into one another.
Only at one scene of angry Purist bile did neither show up; outside of what Saketa took to be a gymnasium of some sort. It was a small group, and after Saketa broke three legs the Purist fire was thoroughly quenched. She continued on her way.
It wasn’t all as open and showy as that, though. Most of the poorer areas were quiet, but many were haunted by a more subtle dread. Small groups lurked in the darkness. Saketa noticed a few of those as she travelled, and probably missed several more. She wasn’t sure if they were protecting individual neighbourhoods, or preying on them, or if the lines were even as clear as that. But none of the options were good signs. There were devils loose in this society, and forces both internal and external were attempting to give them reign.
All of them kept a close eye on travellers, which at this hour was mostly just Saketa herself. Some of them followed her from a bit of a distance, only to break off when she passed into a different area, or a more well-lit one, and one time when she walked by a semi-isolated building whose basic properties she’d learned to associate with Tanga warriors.
Red Rest Hotel proved to be situated on a corner between two medium-width streets, and though it was hard to be certain in the dark, Saketa felt that the immediate area fell pretty neatly in between the city’s two extreme ends. A border area, of sorts.
The hotel was an eight-story, but as she entered she discovered that the first two floors were set aside for various small businesses who presumably enjoyed a symbiotic relationship with the hotel, mostly services of various kinds: Bars, restaurants, shops, different kinds of bars and different kinds of restaurants. She got the impression that the place was something of a local social hub, at least in the daylight and early evening.
The reception area was a desolate place, with a single, sleepy-looking person and the desk, and plenty of cheap wall-hangings that couldn’t quite cover up substandard maintenance.
Overall the place had just enough of an edge for Saketa to believe someone might use this as a base for some sort of underworld investigation. And potentially slip the staff some extra money for some extra services.
The woman behind the desk woke up enough to dredge forth a professional smile and a greeting. Saketa’s sword drew a glance, but no more than that. A sign listed the languages staff were required to understand, so Saketa went with Larin.
“Greetings. I have been told I may find a Piter Ken here.”
The name clearly meant something to the woman, but her reaction was swiftly buried under more smiling.
“We cannot give away the names of our guests. But you may of course leave a message with us, and we’ll see if it can be passed along.”
“Hm.”
Saketa thought things over. This was an annoyance, but she didn’t have a comm of her own or any better plans. And there was the issue of rest. She touched her bag. She could still remember precisely how much money she had left. She’d slept rough plenty of times, but Yvenna seemed to be the kind of ‘civilised’ to object to people tending to their own basic needs.
“How much for your cheapest room?”
# # #
After a quick shower, a really quick one, with no attempt at a ritual cleansing, she simply went to sleep.
Her night went as they usually did these days. The past was free to ravage her, and she was cold and helpless before the mangled memories, and the night’s failures did nothing to make things any easier. By the time she woke up it was with the darkness weighing down on her like a blanket made of lead. It asked her why she even bothered waking up. Why continue this seemingly endless hunt? Why not just lie where she was?
But she found a spark within, made out of duty, and inflamed it until, with some effort, she dragged herself out of bed, brushed her teeth, used the toilet, and left the room.
She’d slept past noon, but one of the little restaurants offered all types of food all day, so she paid for a plain breakfast, composed of some sort of cereal, and apple bits. Then she searched for an empty stretch of booths, found one, and sat down by a window. Being only on the second street, the view was unimpressive, but she did have a halfway decent view of a large public screen, which told news stories via text.
From what she could tell there had been a detonation of some sort in the night. So that hadn’t been a part of her dreams.
She first saw him as a reflection in the mirror. He was little more than a vague image, but seemed to be looking at her. Saketa turned and saw a man of average height and build, clad in blue and green clothes in the local style, complete with a small hat. In his hand was a somewhat stylish cane. And yes, he was indeed looking at her.
“Larin, correct?” he said.
“Yes.”
“May I join you?”
“Go ahead,” she told him.
Saketa took his measure as he walked over, and he in turn did the same to her. It continued on in silence for a few seconds, and Saketa wondered if this was going to play out as a battle of wills, to see which one would show their hand first.
“Once word starts to get around a bit,” he then said, breaking that train of thought, “one can expect to see a fool or two just hoping to earn a bit of money for spewing nonsense. You do not strike me as that type. And I think someone who had a problem with me would send someone more local-looking.”
“You have put some effort into looking local yourself,” Saketa pointed out.
“It’s just good policy, in general,” he replied. “And-”
“I assume you’re the one who’s been going by the name Piter Ken. Have I heard correctly that you are looking into the crash?”
His polite smile didn’t wave, but he detached some object from his belt.
“Not one for subtlety, are you?”
He put the object on the table and pressed a button.
“This will shield us from any recording equipment, or listening devices,” he said. “Just please do not say such things so loudly, and we should be fine.”
“As you wish. I think-”
“This can’t be.”
Saketa turned at the sound of the female voice.
The speaker was short and lithe, with chalk-white skin and hair, and pale blue irises that almost completely filled the eyes. She was a Dwyyk. A familiar Dwyyk.
“Saketa?” she said, and stepped up to the booth. “This…”
The young woman’s face split into that big grin of hers, which then wavered a bit due to sheer surprise. Finally she laughed a little.
“What are you… hey, look, I really wasn’t following you this time. Hold on… were you following me?”
“No, Ayna,” Saketa said once she recovered from her own surprise. “I was not.”
“Good to know that I haven’t gotten careless!”
The young Dwyyk looked at Piter Ken.
“This is… this is the woman I told you about. From Wembella. Well, I mean, we met earlier, actually. On… what was that little rock called?”
Ayna shook her head, then focused more fully on Saketa.
“Look, you just disappeared! I’m glad you’re okay!”
“They were simple pirates,” Saketa said. “And quite surprised to see me. They were no real trouble.”
“Well, and I never got to thank you properly. For… for all that help. I know I had several days to get around to it, but… look, am I babbling? Oh, nevermind. Do you… do you mind standing up?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Saketa did get up. The Dwyyk, after a bit of awkward hesitation, hugged her.
“Thanks,” the girl said. “For, uh, for saving us.”
The warmth felt nice. Both the simple feel of another person softly up against her, and that other kind.
“It was… just a bit of fighting,” Saketa said, as some inner reflex kicked in to deflect the positivity. “I am glad things worked out for your group in turn.”
“Yes. Oof.”
Ayna let go.
“We flew straight into that big battle for Uktena Station. The first one, that is. We even entered the damn thing. I didn’t do a whole lot; just sat on the ship, supposedly guarding it. But at least I get stories out of it. Decades from now, I’ll get to look back and tell youngsters that I…”
She shook her head again.
“Alright, I am definitely babbling.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Ayna sat down. She was wearing dark, tight-fitting clothes, and a similarly-coloured scarf. During their time together on Wembella the girl had carried a simple shock baton for self-defence, and a small pistol. Now she just had the baton.
“What, uh, what is going on?” Ayna asked.
“Yes,” Piter said evenly, to Saketa. “What is going on?”
Saketa looked at the two of them.
“So, you are working with a Federation Command Agent?”
Ayna opened her mouth for a second, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Piter just smiled.
“There is nothing wrong with your leg,” Saketa said to him. “That cane of yours is balanced for combat, and you are accustomed to these kinds of encounters. And you are from the Core, and here you are, during a time of great upheaval. I got to know a couple of FedCom agents during the last big war. So I made a guess.”
“Oh, you guess correctly,” Piter said. “Just please be more discreet with those titles, scrambler or no.”
He pointed at Ayna.
“I had my own little part to play in the Uktena incident. I got to know our pale friend here in the aftermath. I also believe that I met one of your people.”
Saketa intertwined her fingers beneath the table. Of course a young, excitable, unhardened personality like Ayna was going to share accounts of the Wembella events with anyone who would listen.
“Yeah,” Ayna said. “Pietr. Nice guy. A bit weird, but nice.”
“I am from Kalero, yes,” Saketa said slowly, and felt her guards go up.
They seemed to sense it, and after a slightly awkward moment Ayna took a left turn.
“Well, like he said, we got to know each other, and some time after that he offered me a job. Temp work, really.”
The Dwyyk chuckled.
“I haven’t quit the Addax, really. Just trying something different for a bit. Adventure, and all that.”
“Several of the human subtypes are highly specialised,” Piter said to Saketa. “Gifted in some special field in ways the rest of us cannot match. One is a fool not to take advantage of it.”
“There is no shortage of fools,” Saketa said, and looked out the window.
“Sadly, no.”
He joined her in gazing outside.
“That blast tonight targeted a refugee shelter, in a minority neighbourhood. So it was a double dose. I understand that casualties are minimal, but then, these things are never really about numbers, as such. They’re about setting a mood.”
“They are. Tell me, how long have you two been here?” Saketa asked.
“Twenty-two days.”
“Brought here by the crash, then, I assume. That means you have had time to get a feeling for the mood here.”
“Oh, it… certainly could be better,” Ayna said, and some of her cheer faded away.
“I’d say it’s balancing,” Piter said. “Narrowly. That poisoned Pure Blood ideology, to use the term generously, has seeped into Yvenna as it has in so many other places. It attracts the stupid and the cruel and the weak. The other extreme end rises against it, and the ones in between are just trying to manage. That big Alliance ship up in orbit, keeping an eye on things, and theoretically keeping the Authority away… losing it has made anything possible. There are rumblings about violently overthrowing the government and welcoming the Authority. I don’t think there’s much of a realistic chance of that, but these are uncertain times. Chaos can lead to anything.”
“And the Ulaka Authority is feeding the chaos,” Saketa said.
“A few rabble-rousers, some garbage ideology and smuggled small arms are much cheaper than invasion fleets,” Piter said.
“They are.”
“Speaking as a non-baseline,” Ayna began, “I have mostly met with nothing but basic decency around here. But if the Purists spot me, I do get an earful about ‘true humanity’ and ‘deviancy’ and ‘conspiracy’ and all that garbage. I like to think that overall Yvenna is a decent place, but the public mood is just sour enough for those bastards to dare show themselves, and recruit a little more than otherwise.”
Saketa nodded, and focused her eyes on nothing for a few moments. All of this matched her own impressions.
“But let us cut to business,” Piter said. “Why are you here?”
“Well, she’s hungry, clearly,” Ayna said, and her big, goofy grin was back.
“Looking for me,” Piter clarified without missing a beat,
“To put it succinctly, we might have a common enemy,” Saketa told him.
“Do continue.”
Saketa turned to Ayna.
“I take it your stories included those people I fought and killed on Wembella?”
“The weird murdercult, or whatever they were? Well… yes. It’s a story worth telling. Is that an issue?”
“Not as such.”
“Are you saying that a similar group is active here?” Piter asked.
“One is. I have encountered it. But the true problem is their master. It is the same man I was hunting on Wembella. He has established multiple such groups. I think this one is his most recent, so this might be my best chance yet to catch up with him. And from what little I understand of that crash, it is considered quite mysterious. And since I am near-certain that you are here to investigate what happened, perhaps you can quit being coy and fill me in on what you know?”
“Hm.”
Piter folded his hands on top of his combat cane and spent several seconds giving her an appraising look. Saketa suspected it was for appearances more than anything else, since he’d been appraising her all along.
“I am no expert on Kalero, or its Wardens. Your existence is known to the corewards intelligence community, of course, but as little more than unpredictable but potent factors out on the Fringe. But the impression is that you always wear your signature suits, and that you do not engage in… subtlety. Is this a mistaken impression?”
“Truth is a Warden’s law,” Saketa said. “Truth to oneself, to others, to the universe. Some do not announce themselves brazenly once on a new world, but we do not engage in espionage or the like.”
“So why the plain clothes?”
Saketa was silent for a breath.
“I do not count myself as a Warden anymore.”
“Hm. So you are not here on orders?”
“A Warden does not receive orders,” Saketa said. “We heed our elders on Kalero, but off-world each is responsible for themselves.”
“But you said you weren’t a Warden.”
She clenched her fists under the table.
“Just answer my question, please,” she demanded.
“Well, I have not succeeded in this job without being flexible,” Piter said. “Yes. We were sent here over the matter of the crash. Or rather, I was, and I convinced Ayna here to join me. I normally work more long-term than this. I establish an identity and work with a list of contacts and fellow agents. I’m having to rush things here, but I think I’ve done rather well.”
“We have,” Ayna said.
“We have.”
The small hints of levity and casualness visibly drained out of the man as he held Saketa’s gaze.
“The crash was indeed… mysterious,” he said seriously. “There were no attack ships, no hardened boarding capsules, and no supply ship had recently docked. The local government and news outlets both were keeping an eye on the Brankon. Such a thing couldn’t have passed anyone by. And there’s no hint of an internal explosion either. The ship seems to have been deliberately steered towards the surface, once no one was left to prevent that. The more… traditional theory would be that a heavy armour commando team had been smuggled on board some time previous, on a supply container on something. Or perhaps that the crew had been infiltrated by Authority agents. But as I said, there were no other ships. Not even escape pods. Not a single person made it off the Brankon alive. And a suicide attack… that takes a different level of fanaticism. You usually only find that within religious groups, and that is not what the Authority is about.”
He held her gaze a bit longer. Perhaps he was looking for surprise or some such. Saketa had none for him to find.
“Near as anyone can tell, something went wrong with the Brankon’s power systems. There were attempts at distress calls, but they only made it out as garbled snippets. Only two coherent words could be pieced together: Single assailant.”
Saketa nodded grimly.
“That is him, then. No mere acolyte could have accomplished such a thing. We do have a common enemy.”
She tried to keep her excitement under control. This was the closest she’d been.
“Goodie!” Ayna chirped, and clapped her hands once in an obvious attempt at lightening the mood a little.
“Yes. Goodie,” Piter said. “I am always happy to discover an asset.”
“And what exactly is your mission here, Agent?”
“To discover what caused the destruction of the Brankon, to determine whether it could happen again, and sabotage the cause if at all possible.”
“This foe is utterly beyond you,” Saketa told him. “This is not an insult, or condescension on my part. It is the simple truth.”
“Hm. Then I am doubly lucky that you came my way,” Piter said with his small, measured smile.
Saketa turned to the Dwyyk.
“What you witnessed in those ruins, Ayna, was nothing at all. Just four lost souls, manipulated and taught simple tricks by the true fiend in all of this.”
“Aha.”
The girl scratched the back of her neck, with a hint of nervousness.
“And you refused to explain anything to me, in the name of keeping me away from this all. And here I am getting involved by accident. Heh. I think something out there has a sense of humour.”
“From what I have seen, you are a canny survivor, Ayna,” Saketa said. “It seems to be a feature of your people. But you are not a warrior. You can simply walk away from this, and I urge you to do so.”
“You are near the end of a long hunt, Saketa,” Piter said. “Will you let your man slip through your fingers because you refused help at a critical moment? And if you two are friends, then that is all the more reason to stand by one another.”
That last one seemed mostly directed at Ayna, and it certainly seemed to work.
“Yes,” Ayna said. She rested one foot on the opposite knee and tilted her head to the side, slightly further than possible for most people. “Sorry, Saketa, but I think you might be stuck with me for a while. And… I mean… I’ve proven that I can follow you without being noticed.”
She chuckled once more, although Saketa could still see nerves underneath it all.
“You need us, Saketa,” Piter said. “And judging by your description, we need you.”
“Fine,” Saketa said, and tried not to be petulant. “Then show me what help you can be. What have you dug up by asking questions on the streets?”
“The streets, bars, parks, lounges and chat boards,” Piter said, “have given me the impression that the Authority doesn’t actually have hidden troops here, however much the government likes to worry about the possibility, and however much the Purist mobs like to rumour among themselves. But I think there is definitely direct contact between the two. Ideology can fester on its own, but weapons-grade plasma and explosives are a different story, and local soldiers raided a Purist hideout with both not that long ago.”
“So?” Saketa asked.
“So I’ve found out about a small shipping company. They’ve docked multiple flights from here to Ciinto Res and back.”
“Ciinto Res? That fortress world?”
“It basically is, at this point,” Piter said. “But back to the flights. They were all by the same person, on the same small cargo vessel. Her name is Velda Tyroya, And one of her return trips was two days before that hideout raid. Another one was only three hours before the Brankon was destroyed. And now, a mere six hours after her latest return, a military-grade device is detonated in a civilian district. Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, three times… well, it does not hold up in court, but it certainly warrants a closer look.”
“She has to arrive planetside by the docking yards, like everyone else,” Ayna said. “But she flies from there to the shipping company headquarters. They’re within the capital, and strangely well guarded.”
“So is Tyroya herself,” Piter added. “I haven’t seen her in person yet, but when she goes about the city she does so with a trained fighter on each hip.”
“And she?”
“What?”
“Is she a fighter?”
“The company’s public page has a little bit of information on its employees,” Piter told her. “There is nothing about her having served in the military, or attended any of the fencing schools that are so popular here. And since I haven’t actually seen her myself I can’t make my own judgements.”
Saketa thought all this information over. She wasn’t sure it all added up to that much. But as it stood it was her only real lead. Her other option remained to comb through the streets of a metropolis.
“So what are you planning to do?” she asked.
“I, we, haven’t been able to dig up Tyroya’s address,” Piter said. “And with security so tight at that shipping company we thought to scout it for a bit, and see if we can find a weak spot or, ideally, spot the lady herself. But with a gifted third person on board, I would dare venture inside tonight. After business hours.”
“Fine,” Saketa said. “Let’s do it.”
“Yes,” the agent said. “Let’s. And since we’ll be working together, just call me Fredrak.”