The biggest problem with the Kantenans, as far as he was concerned. Hid behind their protection and didn’t dare venture beyond their doctrine.
He had to tell himself this would be for the best. He could head to a space port—Disguised Serenity being the closest—and find work. From there, he’d…
He would figure out something.
The hall curved, and more doors opened to the outside. He expected the guards to hurl him out there, but they didn't, instead two led him to a side hallway that was too small for the crowd, like a private entrance.
As soon as he entered, the buzzing camera disappeared, as did the crowds.
All except for a Kantenan with long horns that pointed straight off his head. He leaned against the wall, waiting. As Olmed got closer, he stood straighter and started to come toward him.
Immediately, Olmed recognized him. They'd met a few times in the past, but never in a way that one would want to share.
A Gol-Vett did not socialize with the likes of Olmed.
Olmed glared at him. "What do you want?"
"I can secure you transport,” Dhomhes said, smiling that devious grin he had.
"At what cost?"
"The generosity of my heart," he said.
"Dhomhes, you have never done anything out of the generosity of your heart," Olmed said. "You're lucky I don't add you to my list of offenses."
"If I thought you were serious, I would not be here," Dhomhes said.
"What do you want, Dhomhes?"
"I have a friend in the Mining Guild. They always need strong workers. And they don't ask questions." He handed Olmed a data card.
"Why is a Gol-Vett helping me? Won't it get you kicked out of your royal society?"
Dhomhes shrugged. "Sometimes, the likes of you can be very beneficial to someone like me."
Olmed considered turning him down, but time was ticking. He had mere minutes to get off Kantenan.
He looked at the data card.
The Mining Guild was as good as any place to start over.
Not be just another bolt in the conveyor.
1
Olmed swung his ax. It clattered against the ore that filled the cave, and he sent the rocks tumbling into his catcher. Another swipe, and he filled his catcher.
He turned to put it on the trolley. In the process, he bumped into another miner's load, knocking his bundle of ore over.
"What is wrong with you?" the miner screamed at him.
Olmed glared back at him. His horns throbbed, ready to fight.
Wait, he told himself. Don’t engage. Not yet.
"You don't scare me, Kantenan," the other miner snarled back at him. "You shouldn't even be here."
Olmed stood his ground. "You know things?"
