Chapter 34

Serval

Terraformed dwarf planets weren't uncommon. The ultra rich sometimes liked to do such things to small planets, moons, or even large asteroids for no other reason than they could. Some were actually very helpful. Some became farming worlds that did nothing but produce food. Others became protected habitats for endangered or rare species. Others still were made into recreational worlds that people visited for pleasure or sport.

But doing such things required a lot of permits. The inspection process alone before anything could be approved could last up to a full Standard year. Everything currently on or in the planet had to be registered, all plans for terraforming had to be presented for approval, any major changes, cities, or businesses based on the colony had to be documented and registered. It was a lot, and not everyone was willing to do all that work.

Illegal colonies came in all shapes and styles, but the one thing they tended to have in common was that they were designed to blend into whatever landscape made up the terraformed surface. It made discovery just a little bit harder. However, they also tended to be the kind of places that were hastily built and could be just as hastily dismantled in case they were discovered. The people here were prepared to abandon everything to escape, but that didn't mean they wanted to. They would try to take as much as possible as quickly as possible.

Serval's one person landing pod wasn't the only one. There were a few of them, all pierced into the dirt, in the same area that his landed. Proof of multiple shuttles orbiting above. Those would all be people that had come to purchase things. Probably small things that were easy to transport in the same pod. For those selling and those making larger purchases, they brought down proper landing shuttles, but they didn't want to keep those surfaceside for long.

Serval pulled his brown scarf up over his nose as he stepped out into the desolate desert environment. This dwarf planet was close to its sun, and because of that, it was hot and dry. There were only a few permanent buildings. Six different obelisks formed the perimeter of the market, creating the artificial gravity and atmosphere that was confined to only this area as that was cheaper than doing the same to the entire planet. Most of the shops were placed in the open backside of landing shuttles that could be easily and quickly closed so the ship could depart hastily in an emergency.

Everything was brown. From the dry, hard packed dirt under Serval's boots, puffs of dust kicking up with each step, to the brown camouflaging fabric hung up over all the shuttles so that they couldn't be easily spotted from above. The rare stone building he spotted seemed to be made of the same deep golden-brown dirt as the rest of the area.

Whoever had terraformed this place had done the barest minimum as far as work. The atmosphere was breathable, though Serval could already feel his nose and throat complaining from the lack of humidity. It wasn't the kind of air he'd want to breathe for long periods.

It wasn't the kind of air he wanted Sophie to breathe at all.

He'd been cruel.

He'd been stupid.

He hadn't meant to insult her profession, but fear had gripped him and the absolute desire to keep her away from this place had made him blurt out the degrading words.

When he returned, he'd apologize. He'd grovel. He hadn't meant it the way it came out. He'd do more shows with her. He'd prove to her that he valued what she did.

But if it kept her away from danger, he'd do whatever he needed.

Pushing the memory of her anger and hurt face from his mind, as just thinking of it made him wince with guilt and shame, he focused on his mission. He was in danger just walking around this place. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

His nerves, his tension, had his olules standing all around his head. They were a good deterrent that had more than a few eyes tracking him as hands went to weapons. Their sting wouldn't kill, but the agony would last for a while, long after it was wiped away. No one wanted to suffer for no reason. And if that failed, he had his own weapon in his halter. He kept a hand on it as he walked through the makeshift roads between the shuttles. He wasn't the only one, most people walked that way. Their heads down, moving quickly to get what they needed and get out.

Serval knew what he was looking for, though not how to get there. The large stone compound he had been directed towards was set at one end of the dark market and was mostly buried. The front sticking up out of the dirt had the same camouflage over it. He was told that it was one of the few permanent buildings here, and it would be the only one buried.

He didn't have his combots on him – as he was only intending to gather information right now. If he was going to break this story, he wouldn't be broadcasting live from the scene like he would on a battlefield. The only thing he had with him was a very basic camera that could only take photos in a ring on his hand. He would use it to gather the evidence he needed. Go back to his ship, record his report, deliver it to Nox, and then he would spend the next few days making it up to Sophie.

Serval would earn her forgiveness for his careless words, but for now, he really had to focus, or he wouldn't get the chance to do so at all.

This wasn't the kind of market that people tended to walk through and browse. Looking too long at something was more likely to get him shot than pitched a sale. He kept his head down as he walked quickly through the aisles, looking for all intents and purposes like he was on a mission.

The people running their stalls had their wares carefully hidden or in boxes and didn't try to tempt him over. A few others were walking around, their heads down too. All of them dressed like him – covering as much as possible with only weapons bared. He didn't see another allowee, but he saw plenty of fangs and claws and quills as they all gave each other a wide berth.

For all the people here, it was unnervingly quiet. Conversations happened in low whispers, deals being made and trades happening with as little sound as possible. As though everyone was afraid of the authorities hearing them from the depths of space. No one wanted to be recognized. They didn't want their business broadcasted.

Serval got a few random shots of the market itself. It would make for good background images. But otherwise, he kept himself focused on the target.

He saw the guard at the building first. The stone blended in with everything else. But the male in front of the dull, stone colored door did not.

He was covered, like everyone else, but the bright, yellow quills on his head with his elongated snout identified him as a ratchi. The sight was something of a relief. Ratchi had excellent senses of smell, but they required humid air to really work. He would be nose blind on this planet. His clothes were dark and unremarkable like everyone else's, but they were of considerably better quality. His eyes shined in the light as he tracked everyone around him, one hand resting on his weapon, his tail still and unmoving. A hunter waiting for prey.

The moment Serval caught sight of him, he stepped off the path and between two small shuttles, creating something like a thin alleyway. One of them was closed up, quiet, while the other's back end was open in the opposite direction. No one could see him as he stepped just out of sight. He poked his finger around the ship, getting a couple shots of the guard, but quickly pulled it back as he kept one eye on him.

The entrance was just how it had been described. A door and a couple steps that sank into the sand, no doubt covering a longer staircase that descended straight down.

Okay. Now he just needed to find a way to-

"Umph!"

A hand slapped over his mouth, yanking back. His olules struck out, smacking against whoever was grabbing him. But he could feel the fabric underneath them. He couldn't sting through thick clothing, which this person was wearing.

"Calm the tentacles, Serval," an amused voice whispered.

Serval's heart dropped as annoyance rose. He ripped his head free, turning to face Korvii who was backing away from him, grinning as he lifted his goggles off his three eyes. The other male rivaled him in height, but definitely outclassed him in mass. He was large, with long hair tied back in a single tail, his entire body covered in camocloth – a fabric that changed color according to the domini's camouflaging skin to help them blend in.

"What are you doing?" Serval hissed, annoyed at the sight of him.

"I should ask you that," Korvii smirked, crossing his arms. "You were the one going off about not helping each other and stuff, and now I see you here going after my mark."

"Your mark?"

"Yeah." Korvii leaned his head forward a bit, then back before he could be seen. "The person trafficker I'm after is supposed to be using that place as a storage waypoint for his ‘deliveries'. I'm chasing down some naughty farasie politicians who got involved in some amgris trading. Amgris-"

"I know what amgris is," Serval cut him off, not willing to tolerate any patronizing explanations. "But that is my mark."

"Oh? What are you chasing down?"

Serval hesitated.

Korvii frowned, giving him a look with just a hint of hurt. Reminding Serval uncomfortably of their conversations and his baseless accusations.

"Animal trafficking," he muttered over the roiling in his belly. "My mark is a prince who uses this guy as a partner for rare and exotic animal trading."

Korvii, grinning again like an idiot, made a sound of appreciation. "That makes sense. The building is way too big for just a storage depot for a few traveling people. But if he's using it for beasties too, that would explain things. What's he using for transport?"

"Standard suspension pods."

"Oh, smart. No need to feed or exercise something that's unconscious."

Serval nodded. "According to my sources, the trapping is done illegally, the transportation is hidden, and the sales are indiscriminate. He doesn't care why you're buying the animal – food or sport or a menagerie, it's all the same to him. As long as the credz are good, they'll trade. Some of the animals, however, are extremely rare or endangered. Even sacred to some planets."

Korvii made a thoughtful sound. "And I thought my druggy politician bust was going to be big. That certainly is more impressive than my angle."

Serval couldn't keep a smirk from his face.

"So, how are we getting in?"

"Huh?" Serval frowned at him. "We?"

"Yeah." Korvii grinned. "The front door is clearly out, and there aren't any windows. But our stories are worth nothing if we can't get the proof of them, so we need to find a way, right? What was your plan?"

Serval gave him a look. It was one thing to admit what he was looking into, but they had basically confirmed they were after, essentially, the same thing. To actually go after the same story together like that was…

"We don't collaborate," Serval mumbled.

Korvii chuckled, nudging him with his elbow. "It would be one great show though, wouldn't it? The views would be record breaking. Oh! Yes, let's actually do that."

"What?"

"You're a genius. A collaboration between us? Our viewers would love that!"

"That is not…" Serval crossed his arms. "I thought you wanted us to compete over who would get the most views on this story."

"Exactly. And this way, we can remove the story's subject as a variable. I cover my angle, you cover yours, we break the same story at the same time. Most views wins!" Korvii smirked, turning his arm over, showing the screen embedded into the bracer. "This is our best idea ever."

"I didn't agree," Serval hissed, annoyed. Not with Korvii; with himself. The idea actually sounded like a great one.

He and Korvii weren't friends, but he certainly trusted him more than anyone else on this barely terraformed rock. Going into a dangerous situation like this, it was better to have someone to watch his back.

Someone who wasn't his delicate, untrained, unarmed mate.

But why did it have to be Korvii, of all the fools?

"Hela is moving around to the other side of the compound," he was saying, like Serval hadn't even spoken. "A place that big has to have vent holes somewhere. If we can find one, we can drop a bug in it at least. Get some pictures without ever having to go inside."

"Great plan," Serval said sardonically. "Except there's no way that a place as secretive and secure as this one would have vent holes big enough for anything useful to be pushed through. And if they did, they certainly wouldn't make it a straight, easy entrance."

Korvii frowned. "Good point. It's a start at least. And it… Ah-ha! I was right. She found something."

He held up his arm, showing Serval the beeping message from Korvii's mate. It was short, to the point, simply stating ‘here'. But she didn't need a lot of words for this.

"I'm surprised," Serval said, frowning at the device as Korvii lowered his goggles.

"Oh, don't be. Hela is really fast. Fantastic runner. She's got these amazing thighs. I love feeling them tighten around my-"

"No, not that," Serval cut him off, annoyed again. "I'm surprised you are so unbothered about your mate being here. And on her own no less."

Korvii snickered, holding his head up proudly. "My mate is strong and fearless. Unlike yours."

Serval glared, olules flaring to Korvii's amusement.

"I'm just saying, I understand why you'd be extra concerned about your little Sophie. But I assure you, since my mate is superior in every way, I don't need to worry about her."

Serval wanted to snap at him. To refute that his female was still better, he just refused to put her in danger. It didn't matter how strong or capable Hela was, she was still on her own in the middle of a dark market. That was dangerous for anyone.

"Come on," Korvii said, gesturing with his head. "We'll meet up with Hela and see if we can't find our way inside."

Serval hesitated only a moment more before following after. Stupid collaboration ideas aside, he was right that it would be easier in this instance to work together.

For now.