Astrium had been Tella's greatest gift. The rare metal, capable of warping the reality of the physical world, propelled the planet to wealth unheard. But it was rare, exceedingly rare. Even planets like Tella had only a trace. The Betrayal accelerated its extraction a hundredfold. The Ascension, the Fall of Empire and the rise of Gods, brought Tella crashing down, but it was actually Tella's greatest gift that salted its ground. Attempts were made to restart the extraction of Astrium. The Order was interested in its capabilities too, of course. Perhaps Tella could have risen again- never to where it had been, but to a shadow, at least. For a few years it felt possible, until they realized...the Astrium was almost gone. Tella's great gift had been stripped away. The planet was a corpse, robbed of its pearls.

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Vas stared into the gaping maw of the Mine's entrance, one of many. The labyrinth of tunnels within went for thousands of miles, some to depths not even Vas knew- all in the search for that most precious of lifeblood. This was the entrance Vas had always known, where he once started his rides.

The long term impact of Astrium mining had strange effects on technology. Most of the mining machines worked fine, albeit unreliably. The transports were even less reliable, but usable sometimes. Communication equipment, however, reacted differently. Past a few hundred yards, it was spotty at best. Past a thousand, outright useless. That's where the riders came in, where Vas came in. Teenagers mostly, not old enough for the labor of the mines, sent to relay messages on small, electronic, three-wheeled bikes- less affected by the Astrium than larger equipment- to different pockets of miners.

It was a dangerous job. Many of the maps were dated, or outright wrong, and getting lost was usually fatal. Ride down the wrong tunnel without realizing it and nobody would ever find you. If your bike broke down in the wrong spot, you’d have to run a marathon before you saw the artificial sky. Vas had lost friends. Most left after a year, maybe two. Vas, however, rode for four years. He liked the riding. He liked the isolation of the tunnels. He liked the maps he drew. He only stopped once the 19s found him, gave him meaning, at least for a little bit.

"Like a Serpent." Talian muttered, staring down the tunnels alongside Vas. "Here its maw. Below, its body, winding and winding down to the heart of the world."

"Very poetic sir." Vas muttered back. They both smiled. Over the past two days Talian had barraged Vas with endless questions about the city, its underworld, and the 19s. In that time, Vas had grown ever so slightly fond of the enigmatic Peacekeeper- just not fond enough.

The two of them were with Talian's voiceless personal bodyguards, five of Creighton's men, and Illura, one of the governor's advisors. Together, they stood outside the entrance of the mine. On a normal day, miners would be bustling in and out, but Talian had requested this branch be closed on the first day he arrived. A few days before the 19s had attacked a mining convoy, their biggest attack in months, and he wanted to see it. Vas wondered if the Peacekeeper knew the trap was coming.

Talian shifted the bag around his shoulders and turned to Illura. "The transport is late.”

The aging woman shifted uncomfortably in her tight, blue uniform. “It will be here soon, Peacekeeper.” As if summoned by her fear, the chug of the transport echoed from the mouth of the maw. A minute later, it emerged to greet them.

It was structured almost like a train, hundreds of wheels pushing connected, circular compartments along. The transports were red once. You could still see the occasional streak of crimson if you looked close enough. Now, however, most were overwhelmingly brown.

Vas frowned at the bulky monstrosity’s approach. Talian noticed the expression. “Don’t like these things, Vas?” He yelled over the chug of the transport.

“No.” He yelled back. “Too bulky and complex. Passed far too many broken down in the tunnels to ever trust them. The bikes are better.”

Talian laughed. “Well kid, when you reach my age, you might opt for bulky and unreliable instead of three days of back pain too.”

Vas shrugged. It was a fair point. The thought of Talian or, Eleven forgive, Illura on one of the tri-wheels was humorous but admittedly ridiculous.

Still somewhat reluctant, he joined Talian and Illura as they walked towards the now parked transport. When they reached it, one of the compartments opened with a metallic groan, letting down a ramp for them to climb.

When they did enter, the guard’s not far behind, they each took a seat in one of the cramped, filthy, faded blue chairs of the Transport’s interior. Illura grimaced before settling lightly down on the cleanest seat she could find, whereas Vas and Talian each plopped down in the nearest seat available.

Once they were all seated, one of Creighton’s guards yelled something into a comm, and, with a groan, the Transport started chugging again, taking them into the mines.

Across from Vas, Talian stretched in his seat, seemingly comfortable. “How long again Vas?”

Illura answered first. “Two hours sir.”

Talian nodded respectfully, but looked to Vas for confirmation

Vas shifted in his own seat and nodded. “In this thing?” He eventually responded. “Yeah, two hours or so. Attack wasn’t that far in.”

Amused, Talian lifted his eyebrows. “You’re saying two hours isn’t that far?”

“Two hours in this thing sir.” Vas reminded him. “A bike, which the 19s would have used, makes the journey in thirty minutes.”

“Still,” Talian began as the transport entered the tunnel. “That’s awfully deep. How many miles do these things go?”

Again, Illura answered first.“Nobody really knows sir. Most of the records have been lost or corrupted.”

Once more, Talian nodded, and once more, he turned to Vas. Like before, Vas confirmed what Illura said. The Peacekeeper frowned. “Any guesses?” He asked.

This time, Vas waited a while before answering, eyeing the dimly lit red-brown walls of the tunnel as they chugged past. “I drove these tunnels for 4 years.” He began. “I think I saw about fifty percent of the mapped tunnels in that time and a fair bit more unmapped area.” He paused. “Hold a Beamer to my head and force me to guess, I’d hazard that the maps we have cover about 10 percent of the tunnels.” Talian whistled his surprise. “And nobody knows how long the tunnels in the other outposts were. In truth, we might only know a single percent of these systems.”

Talian leaned further back in his seat. Through the opposite window the Peacekeeper watched the red-brown wall, simultaneously always the same and ever changing. “To think, once we could practically hollow out a planet. Eat it from the inside.” He whispered, almost to himself. It was another few moments before he asked his next question. “What happens if you get lost down here?”

This time Illura didn’t answer first. Vas did. “You die… sir.”

Talian smiled.

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The transport chugged a dizzying path, up and down, left and right. All the while Talian exchanged small talk with either Vas or Illura. The advisor and the guide never talked between themselves, each finding the other distasteful for very different reasons. Talian didn’t seem to mind.

At the moment, he and Illura were conversing, if you could call it that. “We’re projecting 2.4% annual growth over the next few years, which, as you’ll know, is a little bit slower than the projections for similar planets on the Growth Index.” The advisor remarked. Talian nodded instinctively, normally piercing eyes more than a little unfocused. “But, given the start we had and the temporary… disruption… I’m sure you’ll agree that the estimates are really quite strong.” Talian nodded again and Vas stifled a laugh. “And, may I remind you,” She continued, oblivious. “That we plan to reactivate at least two of the abandoned outposts in the next half decade. Which means, a conservative estimate for our projected growth over the next 15 years is as high as 7.6%, which practically blows the competition out of the water.”

“Blows them out of the water.” Talian repeated, nodding the whole time.

Illura beamed. “Indeed sir. Glad to see a man of reason.” She paused. “I would hope your superiors back on Prime 2 would share your perspective. Because, clearly, the situation really isn’t as dire…”

Talian’s right hand slapped down hard on his knee, and he stood up, interrupting the advisor mid-sentence. “I’m sure they’ll see reason.” He answered, half-heartedly. “Now, Vas, I have some questions about the tunnel systems. Care to join me in the next compartment?”

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Illura looked from the Peacekeeper to the street-rat, confused. “Peacekeeper… are you sure you don’t…”

“No, no, it’s quite alright.”

“At least some guards.” She glanced around the compartment. A few of Creighton’s men looked up, but Talian shook them off. His own guards didn’t even react.

“As I said, quite alright.”

She glared at Vas, an accusation he didn’t understand burning in her eyes. Vas was too busy fighting down vomit to piece together her anger. Alone? With the Peacekeeper? Worst-case scenarios blitzed through his brain, scrambling rational thought. What did he know?

Reluctantly, he rose, legs shaking. Talian was already on his way to the compartment door. Vas followed.

The next compartment was the same as the last. Rows of filthy blue seats, barely hanging on to their color. This time, however, the Peacekeeper did not sit down. Instead, he stood at one of the windows, watching as the transport descended. “Close the door, would you?”

Vas swallowed, but did as he was told.

Talian nodded his thanks. For an uncomfortable moment, there was just silence. Talian was staring at the window, using its minimum reflection to fix the edges of his graying black hair. While he did, Vas looked around for escape routes. Something was off. His instincts were screaming.

Finally, Talian spoke. “Did you understand anything she said?”

“Huh?” Vas answered, the tension leaving his body like an exorcism.

“What Illura was saying, just now.”

Vas smiled. “Oh…Yeah, of course. It wasn’t that complicated.”

“Really? I wasn’t paying attention?”

They smiled, and Vas, filled with sudden relief, joined Talian at the window, the tension of the moment forgotten. He'd been overreacting. For a while they watched as the transport descended deeper and deeper, until the Peacekeeper asked another question. “How long do you think I’ve been doing this, Vas?”

“I don’t know… ten years.”

The Peacekeeper shook his head. “Twenty-two years.” He said it slowly, deliberately.

“That’s a long time.” Vas said, not sure what to say.

“Long time and a short time.” Talian responded. “Twenty-two years, twenty seven planets- on every one of them the same story, just different details.”

The transport turned right. Vas checked the map in his head. They were getting close.

“Can I ask you a question, Vas?” Vas nodded, distracted by other thoughts. “What do you think of Creighton?”

That got his attention. “Um…” He began. “I don’t really know what to…”

“Three years working for him, right? You must have an opinion.”

His mouth opened and closed, searching for the right answer. What did the Peacekeeper want? The truth or the lie? Was this a test? “Uh…” He started.

"Right. Right." Talian broke in. "Obviously." He paused. "I guess I should start with my opinion." He thought for a moment. "Now, I don't know everything, which is why I'm asking you. But, from what I've read, from what I've seen, from what I've heard…” A slight grin. “I think he is an incompetent buffoon, surrounded by equal incompetents. An idiot of the highest order advised by somehow greater idiots. Someone who makes up for his remarkable impotency with remarkable violence." He smiled. "Does that sound about right?"

With every passing moment Vas realized there were levels of human confusion he had previously thought impossible. Talian smiled at what surely must have been a very amusing expression. "Blink once if you agree."

"Um...." Vas muttered, blinking instinctually.

"Aha!" Talian exclaimed.

Mouth agape, Vas watched as the Peacekeeper laughed, calculations and considerations flashing through his head faster than he could comprehend. He shared the opinion, of course. Creighton was the tyrant of Vas' world. The man who the 19s rebelled so fervently against. A man whose slice of power made him untouchable on Tella, and yet, Talian dismissed him as if he were nothing, a worm. Vas remembered the way Creighton had shook when he first met the Peacekeeper. How Talian had toyed with him. To a man like Talian, a man like Creighton really was a worm. That was power.

“I guess..” Vas began, knowing he had to say something. “If I had to give an answer… I might acknowledge a hint of truth in what you said.”

He smiled and Talian laughed. “Of course it’s true, kid. It’s always true. I knew it was true before I even met the man, or his cronies.” His mirth faded a little. “I told you, it’s the same story everywhere. Men like Creighton, women like Illura. Petty tyrants and their petty kingdoms. Best I can do is clean up their messes.” Talian sighed. “You know how many times I’ve heard about the Planetary Growth Index? PGI this, PGI that. I don’t even know what it is!”

Vas grinned “It’s just the…”

“Vas I forbid you from answering that question. That’s an order.”

The compartment filled with their laughter. It wasn’t uproarious, but it was genuine. Eleven be damned, Vas liked the man, regardless of everything. He looked to his right at Talian, smiling still, but was surprised to see the Peacekeeper’s own smile drifting away. Something was changing in his attitude, the moment of levity lost. Talian took a breath. “Everywhere I go I hear the same things, I see the same things, I meet the same people, and I wonder the same thing. You know what that is?” Vas shook his head. “Every time I think. Is this it?”

Vas didn’t say anything. He didn’t think he was supposed to. He was right. “We were something, you know?” Talian continued. “The greatest Empire the galaxy had ever seen- brought down by the Kulari’s fear.” Unconsciously, Vas shifted away from the Peacekeeper. “Now, look at us…”

Vas looked down at the floor. The mood had changed so fast. It was bordering on heresy, what Talian had said. Heresy from one of the Order’s greatest protectors. It was the flaws of the Empire that allowed the Kulari to destroy it. The Eleven, the Order, they saved mankind. Everyone knew this was true.

As if he noticed the discomfort he created, Talian sighed, letting the tension loose from his body. “But… the Eleven guide us well. We’ll return, one day, better than before.”

Relieved, Vas nodded. Next to him, Talian leaned against the window, grinning again, whatever had come over him now gone. “Anyways…” He began. “I had been wondering. What are you still doing here?”

Vas shrugged, confused. “Creighton assigned me to…”

“No. No.” Talian said. “I meant here.” He gestured around. “On Tella.”

“It's not like I can just leave.” Vas replied, avoiding the Peacekeeper's eyes again.

Talian smiled and tilted his head. “I might not know what the PGI is, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. You can leave- whenever you want.” Vas shifted his feet nervously. “Smugglers come in and out of Tella every few months. I bet you know a few of them personally. They're always looking for hands. Not exactly a glamorous life, but better than this.” He looked around the decrepit compartment of the transport. “Kid like you- smart, ambitious. That's a better start than here.”

As he was thinking of a suitable lie, Vas suddenly found himself doing something surprising, telling the truth. He took a breath. “I guess I just disagree.” Talian leaned in, listening. “What was it you said? Same story everywhere you go, just different details. That's kind of how I see it too. It's a big galaxy. When you're a small person in a big world, the world can choose to simply sweep you aside at any moment, at any time, in any place. There's nothing you can do. Doesn't matter where you are.”

Next to him, Talian frowned. “You really think that's true?”

Vas nodded. “I had um... a friend of sorts. Not really, but he was nice. A shopkeeper on Tella- good guy. Would hand out food to some of the kids. Got to know him a little bit.” He bit his lip. Why was he telling him this? He kept talking. “Well, you probably know this, but Tella has a gang problem. Most of them are harmless. Kids really, some my age, some a little older, but there are other gangs too. Real criminal shit, you know? ” Talian nodded knowingly. Vas continued. “It was the Sons of Desire, I think. Stupid name, but real nasty group. They extend well beyond Tella. Anyway, his shop was in their territory. He didn't like it, but he didn't make a fuss either. Paid his fees, kept his head down, the works. Until... one day he saw something. I don't know what, but something, clearly. Something they didn't like.” Vas looked at the floor. “And then, well, you know.”

“I do know.”

"He didn't do anything, didn't say anything. He did everything right. Then, one day..." He fluttered his hand. "Woosh. Gone."

“For some reason that really hit me hard." Vas continued after a few seconds of silence. “I wanted to leave after that. I did. Even talked to a smuggler about working on his ship, like you said." He pulled stale, recycled air into his lungs. "But then, I remembered Prime 2... my father. I remembered stories the workers told me, what life was like where they were from. I remembered drunken smugglers on the streets, complaining about their ill-fortune and the whims of the world. It all sounded so familiar. I realized something, then. Wherever you are, wherever you go, you're one of the powerful or you're one of the powerless. Same story, different details.” He met Talian's eyes. “That's it, I suppose. Why I'm still here. No different from anywhere else.”

The Peacekeeper didn't say anything at first, letting the moment rest for a bit. Eventually though, he turned to Vas one last time. “That's a depressing view of the world, kid, a sad old man's view. You're much too young to believe that. Go find some meaning, some real meaning. That's my advice.”

With that, he left, heading back to join Illura and his guards in the other compartment. Vas watched him go, thinking about his parting words. But, then his eyes drifted down to the Hand of God, watching it as it disappeared through the door. He had his meaning.

A minute later, the transport began to slow. They were about to arrive. Vas breathed deep. This was it. The defining moment of his life.