Credible Prime

Beacon Hunter

Beacons are traces that every living thing leaves in the energy of The Expanse.  Each has its own unique signature and Calfate's beacon was particularly strong.  You had to know where to look. You had to know how to look.

Beacon hunting had always been something metaphysical - something that wasn't quite science and wasn't quite supernatural. The accuracy of beacon hunters was shoddy at best.  One Beacon Hunter who fit into the category of pure charlatan and the legerdemain was Crux Coda.  He'd never found a beacon without luck,  illusion or some other type of tomfoolery.

He plied his trade across village after village, staying as long as he could until his fraud was found out.  For many circles around the star he was nomadic, ducking in and out of shadows and living on the edges of proper company.  Crux grew up on the streets and learned the artful illusion of  his brand of Beacon Hunting early in life.  Crux never met a Yend he couldn't read.  He feigned clairvoyance, but was good enough to convince people to hand over coin and credit for his readings.  Crux and an honest day's work had never really met.  He'd heard about how people had legitimate trades and hearts full of conviction.  But the Crux that was the stuff that other people enjoyed. That was the lifestyle of everybody else.  He prided himself and going against the grain and living up to expectations that his clients projected upon him.  In his eyes the entire oppression of the Yend was abstract in nature. He had heard about the atrocities committed by the ruling class in pursuit of the unfaithful and the doubting.  Those stories were told as murmurs in the shadows because if the Red Guard caught wind of anybody discussing anything other than the Yend approved narrative, it was high likely that they never be seen again.  Crux considered these ghost stories, tails to frighten children into being obedient little offspring.  He never thought too much about what it meant to be Yend.  He never thought too much of what it meant to be against them. 

But deep into a round of sleep Crux dreamed vividly of Calfate, that legendary figure that all Seekers  were taught about.  Crux's dream showed Calfate's mortal form, his reality set against the backdrop of a palatial stellar structure. Spires of starlight twisted up into nebulas topping vast hulking foundations that dwarfed the grandest star carriers.  It was a sharp and short vivid loop of caliphate amid the star wrought palace. Crux knew the place immediately.  It was The elusive Zed, presented to him as clear as if he stood on the edge of The Vast looking across it's valley.

Crux was Yend.  Though he truly believed in nothing. Nothing but Crux.

He instantly woke from the dream, iced with panic through his every organic fiber.