Why did we drift away from the worship of the gods? Some say we no longer needed their oversight. Others say it is a growing hubris and moral decay in our society. Still others insist we have been abandoned by the gods, ignoring the presence of the thirteen heroes, themselves blessed by the gods. The stories of miracles and granted powers are dismissed as magecraft and exaggeration, now. Plenty remain faithful and pray throughout the galaxy, but it is not the same as what we few devoted feel.

  – Valas Briarlin, Priest of Meina

  Naven hadn’t expected an unregistered port tucked away in the Wasting Road to be quite so… clean as this one.

  A station this size held the population of a decent-sized city, even out here in the unregulated areas. He estimated that over a million people called this place home at least a few months out of every year, which meant there were certainly plenty of shady deals and less reputable things going on. With that many people in one place, it was inevitable,

  For someone raised in the Coalition, the idea that a large, independent colony would have its act together was just not something he was taught. Thistlerock Station had enough organization for regular security patrols, sanitation, and even a social support network to keep vagrancy down. As far as he could tell, it was not a major hub for drug distribution despite sitting so close to the major routes carrying kaleidoscope. He was sure some of it was around, but he’d asked Sallus if they should expect to deal with it here, and she’d just shrugged and shook her head.

  Also surprising was the fact that Sallus had let Naven just… wander off. He’d agreed to help, it’s true, but that was under duress. In theory he could look for a way to send information to the Coalition, or even just escape and lay low for a while. Surely a man with his skills would be able to work out a deal with someone here?

  But that would mean abandoning his whole purpose behind agreeing to help. Sallus was brutal, and Apex alien. Neither would care too much about murdering their way across the Principality. He was also sure now that Apex, if he wasn’t actually a dragon, was at least something Naven had never heard of before. He’d been swept up in something bigger than someone with a grudge pestering drug dealers. Until he found out what it was, he would have to play along.

  And as for places like this…

  “This doesn’t seem too bad.” Naven crossed his arms with a frown. “Is this the exception to the rule, or…?” The thought occurred to him that maybe he should have traveled more before presuming everything past the border was a cluster of figurative mud huts.

  His radio hissed to life, and he was surprised to hear Apex on the line, in his usual demanding tone. The demand in question was what startled Naven.

  “Moongale, head toward the foundry level. Entrance 32-E. Do not tell Sallus.”

  If Pan had been on the ship, Apex could have gotten a better read on his vital signs, especially in the medical bay. Here, he was reduced to grainy vision and muffled hearing of anything not directed specifically at Pan, or Pan’s own voice. Apex had never considered he’d need more than that for a short trip to look at the inside of the station.

  So Apex was left clueless as to what was wrong with Pan. The gobling had seemed perfectly competent right after stabbing the strange orc – surprisingly so, even. He’d wiped his knife off on the orc’s overalls, frisked the corpse for valuables, and started down the corridor. It was all very clean, quick, and professional on the small hybrid’s part.

  “Why did you do that?” Apex had asked. And that question hadn’t been answered.

  Instead, Pan had dropped to his knees and clutched at his chest. He’d started taking deep, wheezing gasps of air, and barely managed to crawl out of the corridor and onto the walkway overlooking the inner space of the station. The walkway hosted numerous small market stalls or personal habitats, but the gobling had found the nearest alcove, curled up in it, and refused to move.

  Apex could hear the quick breaths, and the shakiness of his vision told him that Pan was trembling. It made no sense to him. The deterioration of Pan’s mana conduits should first lead to weakness, dizziness, and pain before violent physical effects. The occasional spasms were the closest match to this, but those were brief and nothing like this extended failure of the hybrid’s lungs. Was this some kind of flaw in the half-blooded nature Pan claimed? Apex knew little of this species.

  He stopped asking Pan anything, and instead kept watch. He wouldn’t be able to return unless Pan were mobile again, and he didn’t want to lose his new toy. That’s why he’d called Naven – the only one he could possibly trust not to tell Sallus about the camera if he found it – to figure out what was wrong with Pan, and if the gobling wasn’t recoverable, to bring the camera system back. Less than ideal, but it would have to do.

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  It was still puzzling to the dragon why Pan had done that. He’d been certain that the gobling was exhausted, then the knife had come out in a surprisingly swift and deadly strike. While Apex could hardly call himself a good judge of character for Lesser Folk, he’d been pretty sure Pan was not the type to randomly kill a man. Had his lecture – delivered in boredom – actually incited the small creature to violence somehow?

  “I’m at the entrance, what’s going on, Apex?”

  Naven’s voice broke through the dragon’s thoughts. That had been faster than he expected. The human must have been nearby, to have arrived so quickly. Apex supplied some instructions quickly. “Face out toward the center, turn right, and go two doors down. In the alcove.”

  The camera was mostly pointed toward the floor, so Apex only saw Naven’s boots when the man arrived. “Isn’t that…?” Moongale muttered, but just then, Pan reacted.

  A hard jerk back cracked Pan’s head against the wall, but that didn’t stop the gobling from scrambling and jerking around, kicking legs out viciously. The view from the camera bounced wildly, barely allowing Apex to recognize Naven’s figure.

  The human didn’t move forward, didn’t try to grasp Pan. He watched a moment, then spoke in an easy, neutral tone. “You served me fried potatoes yesterday, didn’t you? Thanks, they were pretty good. Listen, just focus on my voice. Look at me. No, at me.”

  In a moment, the view had steadied, but Apex still heard Pan breathing hard, and the image wavered now and then from tremors. Naven was more discernible, and held his hands up.

  “Exhale. Hold. Breathe in. Breathe out. Wait. Breathe in. Breathe out…”

  This made no sense to Apex, but Pan responded well to it. The gobling’s breathing slowed, his tremors eased, and after a few minutes, he shakily pulled himself to his feet. Naven backed up, giving Pan plenty of space, and made no sudden actions. Finally, it began to dawn on Apex that Pan was acting like a frightened prey animal.

  “We need to get back to the ship.” Pan’s words came out almost like a croak, forcing him to swallow and clear his throat. “They know we’re here.”

  The gobling took a few steps, but stumbled and forced Naven to catch him. In a strange repeat of what had happened just before, Naven heaved Pan up into his arms and started walking, carrying him with ease. Apex would prefer Pan not stab Naven as well, so he quickly switched channels to speak to the Navy man, sending to both at once.

  “Pan collapsed just after encountering an orc. The orc carried him, but Pan stabbed the orc, killing him. Then his body began to fail. I do not know the malady that he contracted, but he may need to be isolated from the rest of the crew.” Apex gave the summary in short, quick statements, rumbling out the words without any judgement.

  Naven just snorted. “He’s not sick. He was having a panic attack.” The human frowned as he looked down at the gobling he carried while walking. “Maybe his first time killing someone. It’s pretty common if you aren’t a trained killer or soldier to have a bad reaction.”

  “I pretended to be sick.” Pan spoke up, interjecting into the conversation. His voice was still weak and quavering, but to Apex’s ear it did sound better. “I recognized him. He came by Mount Fang on some of the ships. Spent a lot of time in the bar I worked at, always asked about people. I think he works for someone important.”

  The explanation made a lot more sense to Apex now. He wasn’t sure what a panic attack was, but it dawned on him that Pan had seen something he had not. And that this observation might actually be something he needed to pay attention to.

  Pan continued, his voice steadying now. “I wanted to see if he recognized me, but he didn’t. He told me he’d been here for months and was looking for a ship to take him on as crew. I knew he’d been at Fang last month. He wanted on Apex for some reason. I um… wasn’t sure I’d be able to fight him off if we fought fair, but I didn’t want Apex to be exposed. So I let him carry me and then…”

  “Then you stabbed him.” Naven finished the sentence. “I’m not sure what to feel about that, but it sounds like you were protecting a friend. You did good, kid.”

  Apex wasn’t sure how all this came about, but now the motivations were made clear. He knew Lesser Folk would often go to great lengths to protect their friends, as it gave meaning to their short lives. Someone on the crew must have befriended Pan when Apex wasn’t looking. Probably the doctor, Filo. That one seemed to have the most sympathy for Pan, and saw the sick hybrid frequently to monitor the progress of the disease killing the gobling.

  “I would prefer that Sallus not know I can see what goes on outside of the docks. Please keep my involvement in this a secret.” Apex rumbled and canceled the scrying spell, letting the camera go dead so Pan or Naven could hide it somewhere. He’d gotten the information he needed… and a little more aside.

  Things were getting interesting.

  Naven eased Pan onto the walkway, watching the little fellow sway, clutch the railing, then right himself. His ears quivered before he looked up and let out a breath.

  “I think I can walk the rest of the way. Thank you, Mister… um….” The gobling trailed off, grasping for Naven’s name.

  The human smiled back. “Moongale. Naven Moongale. It’s fine, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His smile faded. “You did that to protect Apex, didn’t you? That was pretty dangerous. I’m not sure he noticed.”

  Pan smiled weakly back at the man, then turned around to walk while he talked. “Yeah… he probably didn’t. He’s not… he’s not like us, I’ve figured that out. He’ll probably forget about me in a few months, when I die. But I still… I think of him like a friend.”

  Naven just watched Pan for a long moment. Then he sighed, “I’m not sure why. He’ll never think of you as anything but a minor detail. You should save your loyalty for someone who actually cares about you.”

  One of the long, pointed ears twitched when Pan heard that, and he gave a sad, half-curled smile back at the human.

  “I have months to be alive, and thanks to Apex and Sallus, I’ve gotten to see the stars, eat three meals a day… and maybe do some good in this galaxy, if even just a little. I know neither of them care about me, but if I can repay them for that, even a little… I think I can pass on to the next life feeling proud of myself.”

  The comment made Naven’s eyebrow lift. “And you’re going to just help them out because of that?”

  Pan shook his head. “No, not because of that. I’m helping Apex because even if he doesn’t care, he helped me. And I know he doesn’t even understand what a friend is, and I’m not sure he ever will.”

  The gobling gave another faint, almost sad smile.

  “I’m pretty sure those are the kind of people who need them the most.”

  Testing Grounds