Terry fought with the chimney flue as smoke billowed into the room adding to the usual haze. Several patrons engaged in a game of cards jeered and laughed as Terry resorted to stabbing at it with a cast iron poker as a steady stream of expletives spewed forth from his mouth. The small tavern was lit solely with oil lamps that adorned each table along with a few sconces on the walls. The usual mouth-watering smells that wafted out from the kitchen were somewhat overpowered by the hardwood smoke that now hung in the air.

"Burning the place down Terry?" A leather-skinned older fellow who had just entered the tavern asked as he shook the rain from his long coat and hung it from a brass hook by the door. "Maybe I'll leave the door open for a minute." A few patrons continued to chuckle, having a good laugh at Terry's expense.

"Thanks, maybe some of these Marys will show themselves out." Terry replied shooting a nasty look at the revelers, who pretended not to notice as they kept their eyes on their cards. "Yeah, you keep yer heads down an' yer mouths buttoned if ye know what's good fer ye!" Terry bellowed partly in jest. Everyone knew the friendly barkeep could back it up too. Despite being near seventy, Terry's physically imposing frame had waned little over the years and he never shied away from giving unruly patrons a quick comeuppance. Most of the regulars had witnessed on numerous occasions Terry manhandling miscreants out the door and it was not uncommon for them to clear the porch entirely airborne before landing in an unceremonious heap just beyond.

In his younger years, Terry had swung an axe for a living and he and his brothers had cleared considerable acreage for many landowners. There was barely a farm in the region that didn't owe at least part of it's cleared land to the Avery brothers hard labour. Between that and the years of being proprietor and owner of the Goat and Weasel Tavern, Terry knew just about everybody within 50 kilometers it seemed. True to his nature he also considered most of them friends, even if he had tossed them out on their heads at one time or other. This made Terry a good man to know, he was a veritable information interchange, people liked to talk to barkeeps, drunk people even more so.

"My usual Terry." The recent guest called out as he settled for a table in the far corner and sat down with another man. The other man had a very distinctive look about him that instantly pegged him as someone not from the Territories. Terry picked it up the moment the man walked in the door, he was Meta, to the bone. More than that, he was an official, a bureaucrat or executive, but not military that much was clear to Terry. He found it a bit odd that his friend was meeting with this fellow from the Core.

The Core official stood as Terry's friend approached and the two exchanged a hearty handshake. "Good to see you." The official said.

"Likewise."

"I'm afraid I don't bring the best of news, however."

"Oh?"

The official looked around, leaned forward and continued in a quieter tone. "There has been an incident. The group we've been monitoring was involved in something at a school and all but one were taken into custody. I've heard Niles himself has taken an interest in them personally."

"Dammit, that is bad news! Who didn't they get?"

"Corvid, and they don't know it was him, unless the other four have talked by now. Sounds like Walt's nephew was injured during the arrest, but I have no details. Some MiST casualties as well, apparently Corvid has a bodyguard. I don't have to tell you how serious this is, there are a lot of people concerned about how this plays out."

"You said four, who's the extra?"

"Yes, sorry missed that detail, Walt's nephew brought a date along, so she's neck deep in this now too. Although that might work to our advantage."

The two sat back when they saw Terry approach with a bottle, a couple glasses and basket of fresh bread. "Can I get you guys anything else?" He asked.

"What's the soup?" His friend asked.

"Butternut squash."

"Yeah, I'll have that."

"How about you?" Terry asked the official.

"No thanks, I'm fine." He replied.

The two returned to their quiet conversation as Terry headed to check on the other patrons.

"So what is our move? Is there a chance they will just be questioned and released?"

"No chance of that, I'm certain. They seem to have touched on something that has the Oligarchs sitting up and taking notice. None of my people have been able to establish what info the group uncovered, I just know they are being detained at the Centreon on the high security level."

"Do we have anyone deep enough inside to assist?"

"We're working on that. We have one guy in mind, but he's not ideal. He has not been vetted and we aren't even sure which way he leans, but in that regard we do have one thing in our favour. He might take a personal interest in these detainees, we just need to arrange that the necessary information comes to his attention."

Just then a loud howl could be heard coming from outside. It went on for several seconds before being joined by a second making for a chorus. Terry came out from the kitchen and glanced over at his friend who shrugged.

"They're gonna scare my patrons away." Terry complained.

"Hardly a chance of that, but you won't have any Krawn come calling." His friend replied. "Just toss a knuckle bone out there."

"Every time you visit, it costs me a knuckle bone." Which elicited another shrug.

Terry mumbled something heading back into the kitchen, but he returned with a large meaty knuckle bone which he tossed out the front door. The howling immediately stopped. "They do it intentionally." He accused, wiping his hands on his apron.

His friend just smiled and returned to his conversation. "We can't leave them in there for long, Niles will get the information he wants and after he's done with them, I doubt he'll be sending them home."

"Oh, I know. These kids won't be going home, even if we get them out, they can't go home. Niles will have them hunted down and slaughtered, you know he will. I wouldn't be surprise if he had their families killed out of spite. If we can get them out, they'll have to come out here, the Interim is the only safe place."

"I'd hardly call it safe, especially for a bunch of kids born and raised in the Core. We would have to find someone to take them in and keep them hidden until we can make some travel arrangements to get them farther away.There aren't a lot of Interim folk who will take in strangers from the Core, regardless of how dire the need."

"Understood. Well, I'll do what I can on my end, I should be back there sometime tomorrow. I'll try to keep you informed as to what is going on through the usual channels, but even that is getting more difficult, so if you don't hear anything, don't assume the worse, I may have to find an alternate method of communication soon. Walt's nephew is another issue, Niles is a resourceful guy, what if he finds out about Sean?"

"And the Corvid kid?"

"We aren't making a move on him yet."

"He's in as much danger as the rest, if not more."

"Not immediately, he's still unknown to them and he's definitely one of our best chances at getting what we need."

"It's a big risk, Meiers, we gambling with other people's lives now?"

"Don't be naive, the risk has always been there, don't forget we all have something at stake here." Meiers stood and downed his drink with a gulp. "I'll try to send word. It was good seeing you again, it's been too long. Good-bye."

"Good luck." They shook hands again and Meiers exited the tavern. Terry brought the soup to the table.

"Service is a little slow tonight Terry." The man observed.

Terry took a seat without being invited, ripped a piece of bread in half and dipped it in the other man's soup. "You know Gordie, I know a lot of people in these parts. I know a lot of people who travel through these parts. But I have no idea who you were just chatting with in my bar. Seems to me though, he has Core written all over him, and it's the kind of Core that most folk around here don't appreciate."

"Well, as usual, your assessment is dead on, except he's on the right side."

"Hmm. I suppose that long chat wasn't about the weather." Terry pressed.

"True, the topic was a bit more serious than that. Unfortunately I cannot share all the

details with you, but I do believe you can help me out with something. If some visitors from the Core were to come out here and needed a place where they could lay low for a while, who do you think would be willing to give them shelter?"

Terry laughed. "Oh, you're serious? No one Gordie, no one out here is going to take in a bunch of Core cast outs. Might as well send them onto the Akimiski colony, they'll take them."

"I'm not sending a bunch of kids there, they'd be eaten alive! Come on, you have got to know someone."

"Honestly, there is no one that comes to mind. It's more mouths to feed, they would require constant supervision and they are from the Core. What if the Core comes looking for them, what if the Core finds them, you know what they would do to those giving them shelter? Who is going to sign-on for that?"

Gordie scratched his head and blew on his soup. "I see your point, maybe you're right."

"Damn right, I'm right. When am I ever wrong? Wish I had a better answer for you, but that's the truth of it. Eat your soup before it gets cold, I gotta get back to work." Terry left Gordie to his thoughts and returned to the bar to wash some glasses.

Gordie ate his soup slowly and thought about what both Meiers and Terry had said. If the kids were left in Nile's custody, they were dead. If they escaped to the Core, they were dead. If they escape to the Interim Territories and were left to their own devices for survival, they were dead. He refused to believe no one would step up and help, but he knew Terry was right, it just wasn't a risk people were willing to make. No one out here really understood what was at stake. He looked around the bar and noticed one of the card players was Billy who worked the local co-op. He finished his soup, grabbed his drink and made his way over to the game and seated himself nearby.

"Billy, I have some petrol for trade, when does the next trade-railer come in?" He asked.

Without taking his eyes off his cards, Billy replied. "Two days, but you might want to just trade it locally, I had several people asking about petrol this week. How much do you got?"

"200 litres of kerosene, 400 litres of diesel."

"For trade or coin?"

"Maybe a little of both, crops were a little thin this year, so I should probably stock up before I get snowed in."

"Definitely drop by in a couple days, there are going to be a lot of folks trading I think you'll do well."

"Thanks Billy, see you then." With that Gordie got up and left, "See ya boys." They all bid their farewells and went back to their game. "Thanks Terry, tell the misses the soup was wonderful."

"What makes you think it's not my soup?" Terry responded from the bar.

"It wasn't burnt." Gordie answered with a smile. He headed out into the night and hurried home to try to come up with a plan.

Returning home without incident, Gordie decided to head to one of the outbuildings rather than going into the house. His AgriMax robot had not run well all season and was partly to blame for his poor crop yield over the summer. It was difficult for one man of his age to keep up with all the farm duties, even with the automated systems. None of them were in great condition, two were broken and awaiting parts and this one had just recently stopped working as well. Gordie figured putting his hands to work might help him think. One of the barn cats came over and rubbed against his leg as he fished some tools out of a cabinet along with a work lamp that he hung from a hydraulic cable on the broken machine. The tracked wheels stood as high as him, it was a massive piece of machinery and top of the line when new, but that was years before he got his hands on it. It was now second or third hand and in dire need of an overhaul. He kept patching it back together to get it through another season, but the breakdowns were becoming more frequent and the problems more severe. He could not afford a replacement so he was left with fixing this one.

Gordie was decent with his hands, but robotics was not his forte and it showed. He spent the next few hours working on the AgriMax but made little progress other than repairing a hydraulic leak. What Gordie could really use was an extra pair of hands, but out here help like that was in short supply, and people with expertise in robotics were a rare breed. He rapped his knuckles for the last time, his patience spent, he yelled one final 'sonofabitch', threw a wrench and stormed out of the building.

The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped considerably in the past few hours. Sweat from the exertion of working on the AgriMax had dampened his clothes and by the time he made it to the house he was chilled to the bone. He put a kettle on and kicked off his boots before heading downstairs to put a fire on. He had calmed down enough to know he wasn't really the mad about the broken AgriMax, but rather about the situation in the Core. Walt had been a long-time good friend and his nephew was now in a serious jam, furthermore, the situation also had serious implications for Gordie and the others who were heavily invested in Nic's crusade. While he couldn't march into the Core himself without being immediately arrested or shot, he might still be able to contribute to the cause in a significant way.

The dry kindling caught quickly, snapping and popping in the blackened firebox. Soon he was able to add a few logs which he poked at until he was satisfied they had settled into the proper location. By this time the kettle was whistling madly, drawing him back upstairs where he fixed his tea and rummaged through the pantry for a snack. He wiped the condensation from the kitchen window and peered out at the darkened world beyond. He returned downstairs and sat near the fire with a book on his lap that he never opened, still preoccupied with his discussion with Meiers, his head filled with conflicted thoughts. Cracking the book open, he looked down at the picture of a woman he used as a bookmark, he held the picture up and scrutinized the young woman's features. He placed the picture gently back in the book and closed it up, he had made his decision. He headed down a darkened hallway and keyed a code into a sealed door, inside he sat down in front of some very archaic looking electronics and began to type.

A few days later Gordie made the journey to the local co-op to do some trading with the locals. Billy had been correct, a lot of folks were looking to trade and his petrol products were in demand, he made out very well. Along with pocketing a handsome sum of coinage, Gordie also scored several bushels of pears and apples, some cider, a bolt of canvas, a few hand tools, 10 kilos of cured meat and a large sack of mixed root vegetables. It was a good haul especially considering his own farm had not been very productive the past season due to his machinery troubles and lack of help.

"What did I tell you?" Billy prodded as he worked on closing up one of the many vendor stalls. "You should come out more often, meet some people, trade some goods."

"I usually don't have too much to trade, crop-wise especially. The petrol I've been saving up for sometime and since I use very little of it myself, I tend to store quite a bit. After today though, it's going to be a while before I have much to trade again."

"How about bringing out some of those guns of yours?" Billy winked. "Those would definitely be worth something in trade." Billy was one of the few folks who knew about Gordie's collection of ancient firearms. A functioning firearm could fetch a handsome price at market though.

"Geez Billy, a lot of them don't work and I'm not sure I want to be known as a gun dealer, that sort of thing attracts a lot of unwanted attention."

"Maybe we can work something out so that the buyer doesn't know where it came from. Really, most folks out here aren't going to care about that, but if they can protect their families and put some food on the table - that is something they care about. Just give it some thought, if you can get some of those artifacts working, I'm sure we can move them on the market no problem."

"I'll think about it." Gordie paused to look around, most of the vendors and market goers had dispersed, but he spoke quietly anyway. "I have another question for you, a bit of a proposition. Let's say I have a delivery made out here, something that might gather attention and needs to be hidden away - would you be interested? Before you answer, I'm willing to pay for the service."

"What sort of thing are we hiding?"

"I'd really like to keep that to myself for now, let's just say it would have to be stored inside, out of sight, for a few weeks, maybe a season."

"Hmm." Billy squinted at him for a few moments. "I might be interested, if the compensation was fair and the risk wasn't unacceptably high. When would you need this service?"

"Any day now Billy, any day now. There aren't a lot of men I know who can pull it off, and either fewer I trust to do so. You're my first choice, when I have more details I will let you know. If you are still interested at that time, great, if not, I will make other arrangements."

"Fair enough." The two shook hands. "Hit me up on StickNet when you have more info."

"Will do."

Gordie left pushing his overflowing cart to the loading docks where his all-wheel-drive rambler awaited him. He transferred the goods to the rambler's cargo bin, secured it and made his way toward the farm. His farm was quite a distance from the small village center and although the rambler was very capable in all types of terrain, it was a slow vehicle and it didn't help much that it had a bad powercell that reduced it's range and top speed. Gordie was not in a big hurry, it was an unusually warm day and the bright sun was a welcome change from the oppressive winter weather they had been having. He even made a point of stopping at a couple farms on the way home to get caught up with some of the folks he had not seen in a long while. Edgar Canton's wife insisted he take home two loaves of fresh bread after he helped Edgar repair the gate for the goat pen. The high fence around the pen and the gate was all that kept the predators from the goats. Keeping livestock alive was a difficult task out in the Territories, where the predators were cunning and dangerous. Gordie made a mental note to make sure Edgar received a gun once he got a few of them working.

A bit closer to the farm Gordie came across William Scott who quickly invited him in for a drink and a couple hands of cards. They got caught up, reminisced about the better days and promised not to let so much time pass before they got together again before Gordie noticed the time and decided to get himself home. The day was nearly spent and though it had been a very good day, he did not want to be out alone past nightfall. Nobody did. It was time to press on.