Nighttime on Guroto Habitation was nothing but an illusion, a product of technological marvel that allowed its denizens to enjoy life as if they were not living in a large dome on the surface of a dead moon. Er-jani, the only satellite of Planet Er-na, lacked arable land and livable atmosphere. And yet, despite its dreary conditions, for centuries Er-jani had hosted hundreds of thousands of intelligent species, using their own unique means to survive in this cutthroat environment. Life thrived on Er-jani’s surface since artificial habitations were built, first as a penitentiary and later on, refugee camps. Much later, the Er-nan government decommissioned the camps and reclaimed the area as an off-world city. Alas, old habits died hard. Tried as they might, the government could not completely abolish the criminal empires that had taken roots in Guroto. What the government imagined would become a brand new habitation soon devolved into a prosperous, yet wild city dominated by corrupt officials and warlords. Guroto became synonymous to the phrase ‘legal, but only just’. And its lifeblood: Trade. More particularly off-the-record, unrestrained-by-law trade. Not limited to using Federal credits, anything could be exchanged with anything. Trades of all kind, by all species from all over the galaxy, took place with abandon. Enforcers barely making their rounds, turning heads away while pocketing credits when necessary. Taxless. Lawless. Limitless. Guroto boasted many legal establishments that facilitated such exchanges. Protected by a conspiracy embedded into the habitation’s core itself, Guroto had withstood the test of time and became an existence that not even the Interstellar Law Enforcement bodies could topple. As such, to an uninformed outsider, Guroto resembled a successful trading center. Only those who knew the habitation’s underbelly could really take advantage of the habitation’s ‘legal, but only just’ facilities. May Ling, Terran, twenty years old, law-abiding citizen of Er-na, just so happened to be one of those ‘in the know’ who was taking advantage of Guroto’s opportunistic underbelly. Looking out of the transparent window, she watched as the sky came closer with each passing second. Soon the neighboring skyscrapers ceased to exist and she could clearly saw three planets hung pregnant on the purple sky - Er-na, Sil-na, and Fin-na - shining green, red, and yellow respectively. The only habitable planets in the Al-jurba system reminded her of Christmas ornaments from a lifetime ago. A lifetime where night sky was as black as ink and the moon reigned supreme among the stars. “We are here,” the tall man accompanying her stated once the elevator stopped, a considerable height above the other buildings in the vicinity. “Please this way.” May acquiesced, discarding her nonsensical reminiscing. Behind her, an armored person followed dutifully, alert despite the unthreatening surroundings. As a bodyguard, an Arringar to boot, Burrunda knew better than his primary the danger of this establishment; the lair of Fence, the most sought after underground dealer. Fence’s man, who had introduced himself simply as Xi’rukh, led May through a series of corridors, each one sleek and elegant, colored generously in silver and decorated with Terran paintings and art works. A perfect blend between Er-nan and Terran styles. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at a large metallic double door that opened without prompting, revealing a warm interior filled with Terran antiques and novelties. As she entered the vast room, May inhaled sharply. Hanging from the ceiling was a large bone structure – a whale. An actual, Terran, whale fossil. She never thought she would see it in this lifetime. Eyes wide, May scanned the room, identifying many items that should only exist in history, buried under the sand of time. Seafaring compass. Typewriter. Terran 25th century holographic tablet. Every single thing should be at least millennia old. “Boss.” Burrunda’s low growl snapped her back into reality. Xi’rukh had retreated behind an island counter by the side, surrounded by floating transparent balls carrying decanters and bottles of all shapes and sizes. They moved in concert to his will, creating quite an enchanting sight. May would have watched longer if not for a male, pale and thin, approaching her with an amused smile. “Though people often praised my collections as breathtaking, this is the first time I saw them actually took someone’s breath away,” he said, chortling at his own joke. “As a collector, I am both pleased and honored,” he continued once he got close enough, bowing slightly with an arm across his waist in an ancient Terran custom that had long been abolished. “Ali’ka Milna, businessman. Charmed.” The male carried himself with a flamboyant bounce in his step. Green hair matched well with his amber eyes. His humanoid shape allowed him to indulge in Er-nan’s latest fashion trend: a tunic that blended seven colors into a dizzying array and white trousers. If they had been outdoors, May could only imagine what his cape’s color would be. May noted he did not mention his less known alias. Smiling perfunctorily, she returned his greetings in kind. “May Ling, heir to the Ling Interstellar Freight. Pleasure’s all mine.” He smiled wider, beckoning her in. “Come, let’s make ourselves comfortable. I believe this will not be a short discussion.” It didn’t take long for the two of them to sit across one another, beverages in hand, snacks on the low table between them. Inconspicuously, Xi’rukh led Burrunda away, leaving their masters to their private talk. May took a sip of her drink, then chuckled. “You’ve read my medical records.” Nutrient drink was not something typically offered to guests. Fence smiled broadly, steepling his fingers and sitting back languidly. “Why yes! The hospital did try to keep my people out, but fortunately, they are resourceful.” He tapped one of the many rings on his fingers. Three different colored holoscreens appeared in front of her, each one a familiar sight. And supposedly confidential information. “Degeneration of muscles and organs. Corroded stomach lining. Ruptured coronary and pulmonary blood vessels,” Fence summarized idly, as if reading a grocery list. “You have amassed quite a record, dear girl.” “Also brain damage, which the doctors did cure eventually,” she took over, not taking offense at the breach of privacy. “And the poison that caused all this still flowing in my bloodstream.” “I didn’t want to bring up bad memories,” he said with a kind smile, though a savage gleam in his eyes betrayed him. Letting out a small, amused huff, May cut to the chase. “If you have managed to find out so much, then you should already know why I am here.” “I have to admit I am stumped,” Fence said, leaning back and spreading his hands helplessly. “Aside from moving in the same industry, you should have no intersection with a small businessman like me.” He posed with a hand on his chin, rubbing it as he said slowly, “My guess is you would like someone to take that little ancient trinket off your hands. I am known for paying good price for good artifacts.” Fence calling himself a small businessman was not him being self-depreciating. Ali’ka Milna was considered a small, but prosperous businessman hailing from the Federation Capital. His freight business covered several planetary systems and claimed to transport just about anything as long as the payment was right. Under the shiny surface, he dealt with less savory trades, trading things from questionable sources for private collections and shuttling goods for enterprises who wanted to evade taxes and laws. His nicknamed Fence was coined after more than a decade of success. Now he dealt with anything short of murder and assassination. Although Fence might be amiable, May was not stupid enough to take him at face value. By now, she had gotten a glimpse of his capabilities. As a prospective client, she was satisfied with what she had seen. “Milna-jo had seen what I have to offer.” May said, tapping her bracelet to summon her own holoscreen. “A recording of a starship captain during the Terran Exodus. Exact date unknown, but its condition is good enough to extract a full video of a captain’s memoir.” She took another sip of her drink. “If you have doubt about its authenticity, rest assured. Had the Auction House not verified it, the item will not be displayed on offer at all.” “Of course. The authenticity is not the question here, Ling-sa, but rather the price for it,” Fence said, closing all the screens with a wave of his hand. “I imagine you will not part with it easily.” “For others perhaps not an easy thing, but Milna-jo might find it a cruise around the moon.” May met his eyes straight on. “I need information.” Fence looked like he had been expecting it. “A high price indeed. I assume it would be on the unidentifiable poison? Well if that is the case -” “No,” May cut in. “Well, that too, but there is something I need more urgently.” Surprise flitted through his expression before a smile took over again. “I’m all ears.” “The identity of my murderer.” Fence’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Come again?” May swallowed hard as she explained, “I died, Milna-jo, for more than half an hour before they revived me. If current technology is not as advanced as it is, I would have followed my late parents footsteps.” Gritting her teeth, she forged on. “Now I’m left with scrambled memories from brain damage and a constant fear that that person might just come back to finish the deed.” Her clear dark eyes clashed with his burning amber. “I cannot live like that. I refuse to live like that. So can you do this?” Fence observed her like a predator its prey, weighing her worth. Then he smiled, languid and wide, showing teeth white as pearl and slight pointed like a carnivore’s. “Everyone knows who the culprit is, Ling-sa,” he said, waving a hand towards her. “Yourself.” May glared at the male before her, hating the superficial interest on his sallow face. Though disappointment rested heavily in her guts, she plastered a polite smile. “Then, we have nothing to discuss,” the Terran said, nodding decisively. Placing her cup on the table she stood. “Thank you for meeting me, Milna-jo.” The colorful man burst out laughing, his voice clear and strong with mirth. “Come now, Ling-sa. Learn to take a joke.” He sat straighter, beckoning her to retake her seat. “Come, sit. We talk.” Though reluctant to put her fate in the hands of such a fickle person, May knew she had no other choice. She complied wordlessly, visibly bristling. “Not long ago, your suicide attempt was all over the news,” Fence said, not noticing her irritation or simply not caring. A corresponding article popped up on holoscreen. “They say you took your own life due to depression. You have just lost your family after all. Forgive me, but I have to ask: are you sure you didn’t try to kill yourself?” “Yes. I have plans for the weeks after,” she replied, gratified that he was taking this seriously. “If I really planned to die, I would not have updated these the day I committed suicide.” Fence leaned forward. “Who else know about this?” “No one.” May said. “If they had known, I suspect the headline would be about how the Ling heiress killed en route to the Federation Capital instead.” “You were planning to go to Homyu? That’s quite a distance,” Fence commented. “I need the inheritance from my grandparents, I wanted - ” May shook her head. “What does it matter?” “The same inheritance this comes from?” A 3D rendering of her chip appeared between them. “More or less,” she replied, unwilling to give more unnecessary information. “So, is the transaction satisfactory?” Fence linked his fingers again, tapping a finger against his knuckle. “Just about. You make an interesting case, Ling-sa.” Despite herself, May let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Milna-jo.” He smirked, and said, his tone light, “I was so sure you would have asked about the poison.” “That would be my second request for the night.” Tilting his head, Fence pointed out, “You are looking for two requests from me yet offered only one item in recompense. This cannot be, Ling-sa.” “Naturally I have something else to offer,” May responded. “As the owner of the auction house, not to mention the potential buyer, I’m sure you’ve watched the recording. It’s in ancient Terran. I have the translation ready, in exchange for information on how I can get the Nightbringer poison.” He watched at her closely. “I have bought the ancient dictionary tonight, one you yourself have put up for auction. What makes you think I instruct my private translator team to do it instead?” “They can try, but dictionary alone is not enough,” she parried. “This is a standing offer, Milna-jo. When they fail, you are welcomed to contact me anytime.” “My information does not say anything about you learning Ancient Terran,” Fence said, wariness apparent in his gait. “How would you go about translating it?” She smiled and said, “Inheritance.” From a life when the Ancient Terran was known as English and spoken as planet-wide lingua franca. When Terrans were just called ‘humans’. When Terrans did not roam about the universe as nomads, searching for a place to settle because they already had a blue gem of a motherplanet called Earth. May had no idea why she knew more about her life on Earth than one on Er-na, but she did not care. As long as it gave her an advantage, she would use this inheritance. Let Fence thought what he would. This secret she’d bring to her grave. “It seems there are more to you than my network can collect,” Fence finally said, a glimpse of interest evident in his smile. “If we’re going about exchanging information, how about you tell this humble businessman just how did you hear about me?” A small heir and a small businessman. Their meeting should be a coincidence had they been true seller and buyer and yet all of this was deliberate on her part. She sought his attention; he deigned to give it. “No one around you would have mentioned anything related to Guroto near you,” Fence said, revealing just how closely he managed to investigate her in the few hours between knowing of her existence and their meeting. “Providence,” May replied evenly. Fence barked out a laugh, before he caught himself. “Ling-sa surely knows how to joke.” He chortled joyfully, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Fair is fair. Indulge me with your story - I believe it will make quite a tale - and I will certainly return the favor in kind.” “I have nothing else I’d like to know.” May refused, shaking her head. Unperturbed, Fence continued, “Even if I offer to look into your parents’ accident?” Ice invaded May’s blood at Fence’s casual statement. “You mean- ” The male shrugged as if he did not just drop a bomb on her lap. “If someone is out to get you, as you said, it is only natural to suspect your parents’ death as well.” Fence smiled gregariously. “Besides, if I want to find your killer, knowing your point of view will help a long way.” “My memories are not the most reliable.” “You would be surprised at how far a small detail can bring you.” They stared at one another, each refusing to submit. “And I should just believe that you will not sell this to interested parties with enough capital?” May’s grin was positively feral. “That is a risk each of us carry gracefully,” Fence said openly. Waving his hand inquiringly, he asked, “So, is this transaction satisfactory, Ling-sa?” May balled her fists, knuckles turning white with the force of her anger. “What do you want to know?”