They reported their find to Dulel, who explained it to the labourers. And then they were required to show them to the spot. As Ayna had rather expected, the bodies were recognised as the four who had gone missing and been given that symbolic funeral.

Bers came along to serve as translator, and gave them snippets of the debate that followed. Apparently, there was a bit of a moral conundrum here, as the four had already been laid to rest. There were arguments for leaving them to the wild, which Ayna could understand. But on the other hand a crime had clearly been committed.

One young man was arguing particularly strongly for delivering the bodies back home, and his side eventually won out. The labourers created makeshift stretchers by cutting limbs off the growth, and set about loading the bodies in. The winning side’s main speaker, a stocky fellow with reddish hair and big eyes, walked up to Ayna and Herdis.

He seemed to rifle through his memory for the right words before settling on: “Good. Did good.”

The man let his face do more talking, expressing gratitude for their find.

“Glad to help,” Herdis said, and Ayna settled for a nod.

It was growing dark by the time they returned, after a clumsy, awkward trip back the same way. Dulel’s equipment included extendable light poles and those who’d stayed behind gathered by them to take in the state of the bodies. More conversation followed, tense and disturbed, and Ayna was glad to stay away from the cluster of people, largely hidden in the gathering gloom.

She couldn’t help but notice that, while Bers didn’t join in the conversation, he did take a keen interest. The big Fringer walked on over to the body of the burned man and took his injuries in with a grave expression.

“What do you think?” Ayna quietly asked Herdis.

“I think we should try to keep informed for the sake of safety, but beyond that this really isn’t our business,” the woman said.

“I suppose not,” Ayna replied, although her interest was caught in a way she didn’t quite know what to make of. “Do you... do you think we should mention Saketa?”

Herdis hesitated before answering.

“We both know for a hard fact that she hasn’t been on this planet long enough to have killed those people,” the woman then said. “And bringing her presence up might create problems for her. Not that I have much experience with mass murder, but I imagine it can rouse the passions.”

“I suppose,” Ayna said.

Dulel came their way after a short while.

“Ahhh, well... I think we’re done here for the day,” he said awkwardly. “People are tired and... well... upset.”

“Yeah,” Ayna said. “Sorry your dig starts out this way.”

“Oh... you know,” the historian said with a shrug. “Can’t expect them to not have complications. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

The bodies were loaded onto the smaller of the two vehicles, which meant the larger one was more cramped with the living than before. Bers joined the two of them again, still looking solemn and serious.

Conversation continued on between the labourers as they drove up the valley slopes, now in low voices. The red-haired man, whose name apparently was Gion, did much of the talking, with the others adding commentary or apparently the occasional objection.

“Bers,” Ayna whispered. “What are they talking about?”

“Say stranger came to planet,” he told her. “Not long ago. Gone now, but left evil behind.”

He turned to the subdued, tense-looking labourers.

“Bers, if you know something relevant, you really should tell us,” Herdis told the man as the driver took them up the valley slopes.

He looked at her, then back at nothing. Ayna thought he really wasn’t going to answer at all until he finally opened his mouth.

“Bad gulu,” the Fringer muttered, and left it at that.

Ayna had taken her glasses off, and as the vehicle took them to the top she had a perfect view of the surrounding countryside. There off in the distance, invisible to everyone except her, were those big, ancient ruins. And just for an instant, before the structure vanished from sight, she thought she saw movement.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

# # #

The space station was a grotty little thing. Old, sitting still on a route hardly used these days, and offering no services to speak of save for recharging, it probably wouldn’t survive at all if its very obscurity wasn’t so useful at times.

Evesa Karn walked behind the local manager. He had absolutely nothing to say and asked no questions. Judging by the dead look in his eyes he understood his place in the grand scheme of things, and lived each day for the moment he could get back into bed. When they arrived at a particular door he simply left her there without a word. Since she’d been here a bunch of times already he’d probably only followed to pretend he had something to do.

Well, burn him for not having any ambition.

The station was old and plain enough to have a manual seal, which groaned as she unscrewed it with both hands. In the little sitting room that had been arranged within were nine people, one from each of the docked ships besides her own.

“Helllooo everyone!” she announced and stepped inside with a dramatic flourish. “Good to see you!”

She got a casual chorus of return greetings; they’d already spoken over ship comms, after all. Evesa dragged a chair in front of the group and sat down, using the opportunity to take them in. Being the leader of scum required constant alertness and judgement of people.

“I don’t suppose anyone thought to bring tapestries or something?” she went on in that same casual voice. “Since we’re apparently going to keep meeting here? Maybe stash a bottle of the good stuff behind a metal panel or something?”

“Who would we trust to be the last person leaving the room?” one joked.

“Who indeed?” Evesa replied and swept her arms wide.

These were hardened folks; accustomed to the life, or they wouldn’t be captaining ships. Even so, most of them seemed to be accepting her cheerful persona.

Idiots.

“As much as I just love seeing you guys, we do need to talk business,” she went on. “You all know what the deal is, and what the stakes are. We weren’t able to dig up any detailed information on the crew that has our prize, but we do know they include a Dwyyk and a Chanei, both women.”

“A white sneak and a sex doll,” Jonso commented, to a couple of snickers.

“Right. A rare thing to find on one ship. Which is a Kirian model civilian freighter, to be precise. So that’ll be something to keep an eye out for.”

She pointed her finger across the entire group.

“So. We split up into pairs. Plan out a search web and ask at potential ports they might have moved to after the station. And if we get a confirmed location, one ship flies away to report to the rest of us and bring reinforcements, while the other crew stays behind to keep an eye out. And only act if they seem about to relocate. We can’t afford to waste a chance; best move in with overwhelming numbers. Then we can force a surrender and get that damned keeper intact.”

“And the crew?” one asked.

“Oh, they need to be erased,” Evesa said through a smile. “Our new friends are very clear on that.”

“Maybe keep the Chanei,” Jonso said, with a meaningful glint in his eyes.

He scratched his neat, black beard.

“Never had one. Doesn’t matter what someone knows if you just keep them on the right chems.”

“Maybe,” Evesa said. “But only for personal use, then. No selling off.”

“Sure. This, ah...”

The man crossed his arms, emphasising their bulk and standing straight as a pillar. He was very good at posture.

“This is all a lot of trouble, though,” he went on. “Is the reward really worth it, when we might not even find them in time?”

“The money is good,” Evesa said. “But the real prize is the connections. The Authority has big plans, and we’d do well to be their friends.”

“Will we be friends or servants, though?” the man went on. “They talk big about bringing law and order. And I wonder how they’ll feel about independent outfits if they get much bigger.”

Evesa kept her smile up.

We answer to the Authority and they answer to the Hegemony, she thought. Everyone answers to someone or something and all one can do is claw and bite to stay relatively high in the chain in this awful galaxy. But you’re either too stupid to think that far ahead, or are relying on the others to be so.

“There’s a big wave building,” she said out loud. “And we can ride it or be crushed by it. The Authority will have plenty of space for anyone willing to kick a cut their way. And if they do fail and burn out, then the Qantil League will be ready to take advantage of it. Because that’s what people like us do.”

She patted her pirate markings, a showy bit of team loyalty.

“We adapt and survive.”

The mini-speech had the expected effect, and eight of the faces before her looked proud and assured. The ninth, predictably, was Jonso’s. He held her gaze, looking neutral and deliberately casual.

“Are they a hardcore group?” he asked. “It’s a shame they weren’t caught right at that rogue.”

Evesa kept on smiling.

“They have a good gunner and a good pilot,” she said. “And yeah, it is a shame. But that’s just the life.”

She did her best to look just casual enough to seem to be shrugging the whole thing off, as one confident and assured. One the inside she picture Jonso’s head as seen down the length of her pistol, bursting into flames and charred flesh. But execution-happy leaders only lasted so long. The smart ones were more subtle; everyone’s friend.

“Do you have any other questions, Jonso?” she asked, but clearly he was done with subtle undermining for now.

Soon enough she would have to arrange something for him. Something deniable and natural-looking. Because this was the third meeting where he pulled this. But for now she needed everyone on that record keeper job.

Patience and efficiency, cruelty wastes energy. Play sweet and smile and hide the guile, be a friend in the light and a viper in the night.

She clapped her hands peppily.

“Now, unless anyone has questions, we will start planning the search. Anyone?”