“The vote was close,” he said, which I did not believe for a second.
A pair of mercenaries walked a group of six Rivonok personnel past us, toward the landing ramp. One of the Rivonok said something. The mercenary closest to him said something back, and the group began to chat as if they were old friends. That was how these things worked. No real enemies when the only real metric was credits.
“So you what? Decided to come out here and see if the old-timer had lost his mind?” I asked. “Or to see if thejunversyrup was an operation worth the guild’s time to take over?”
“We came out,” Krax said seriously, “and we dealt with your surveillance system.”
I looked at him.
“Your setup was thorough,” he said. “Trip wires, perimeter devices, proximity alerts. You did solid work.” He paused. “But you learned those methods from the guild. We knew yourmethods because they are ours. Disabling the system took us about forty minutes.”
“I spent three weeks on that system,” I muttered.
“I know. I’m sorry. We needed to move quietly.” He shook his head. “And actually, no. We didn’t think you’d lost your mind and we weren’t interested in thejunversyrup.”
“Then why?”
“We’ll get to that.” He looked uncomfortable enough for me to let it go for now. And anyway, Maive had placed a hand on my arm in a signal that she was taking over the next part of the story.
“They came in the middle of the night,” Maive said. “Twenty armed mercenaries in my front room. I’d never seen anything like it, but they said they were there to help.” She considered this. “So I told them everything. The Rivonok, what they wanted, what we’d prepared, what the stakes were.”
“And then she told us that if wehadn’tcome to help, we could put all the surveillance equipment back where we found it and go home, because she had a village to defend.” Krax shook his head. “Couldn’t believe she said it exactly like that.”
“I’m aware of how she says things,” I said.
“And you decided to stay and help,” Maive said to Krax, warmly. “We were very appreciative.”
“I’m still waiting for thewhy,” I said. “The guild isn’t a charity organization. It’s strictly for-profit. So who’s paying you? Anlara? Or did you?—”
“No, Gilrox.” Krax looked tired all of sudden. Tired and wary. “It was hope.”
That wan’t a normal guild reason. It wasn’t practical, which would be something about guild presence in the outer quadrant, or a strategic interest in keeping the Rivonok Alliance from establishing a foothold in this system. I was already running the calculation of what that would cost, what obligation it would create.
“That’s the truth,” he said, and looked away. “Go ahead. Deliver the insult. I’m prepared.”
But I didn’t have one. This was just confusing.
Krax set his helmet on the ground. He crossed his arms and looked out at the square, at the scorched buildings and the foam and the mercenaries working. When he spoke again, his voice was even but the words clearly cost him something.
“I know how that sounds. I’mawareof how it sounds.” He exhaled. “Four years I’ve been in the guild. I’m good at it. I’m going to keep being good at it for a while yet. But there is nothing waiting for me anywhere. No home. No version of what you have here.” He glanced at me briefly. “My history before the guild wasn’t different from yours. Where I came from, what I left. And your message got passed around,andAnlara’s, because everyone who read it thought—here’s a retired Level V, in the middle of nowhere, with a fishing rod and a woman who loves him, and a whole village of people who matter to him. And it occurred to us that maybe itwaspossible. That it doesn’t have to end in the field.” He paused. “The others felt the same. That was the vote.”
Nobody said anything for a moment.
I thought about whatIwould have thought about this when I was four years in. A green newbie with an attitude. If I’d read a message like the one I’d sent…yes. I’d have come to see with my own eyes that it was possible to have something good after living the life of a mercenary. I’d have dropped everything to see it. Thehope. I understood that, and I’d never insult a man for wanting that for himself.
“I didn’t intend any of it,” I said. “I came here because the fishing looked decent.”
Maive made a sound.
“I mean that,” I said. “I didn’t plan for any of this. I found a good ocean view and I stayed.” I turned toward her and pulledher close. “And I ended up with a woman who smells like the sea, and argues with me, and can bully a team of guild mercenaries into saving her village from a hostile syndicate.”
“I asked you to leave,” Maive said, placing a hand over my hearts. “I was quite forceful about it.”
“You were.”
“And you didn’t leave.”
“No.” I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “But I respected the spirit of the request.”
