No Name

Chapter 10 - X

Declen watched as the Citadel guard snapped to attention on the wall, and the Governor walked into view. For the exalted leader of the last bastion of humanity, he dressed pretty casually. He wore a heavy jacket that hung open, revealing a simple grey shirt and tie, and a worn pair of blue jeans. The Governor was middle aged, a rare sight in the Citadel, or any other place. He looked down upon the entire population of the Mar'Kell from the wall, Declen in the lead. Caravans stretched into the distance behind him, the sun painting the sky orange as it fell slowly towards the horizon. "Hey." Declen said, not entirely sure how to start a conversation with one of the most powerful men in the remaining civilised pieces of the world. "Hello." He called down, watching as the last of the Mar'Kell caravans came to a stop. "So, why are you all here?" he asked simply, seemingly shocked by the sheer number of people spread out in front of him. All he had ever seen of the Mar'Kell were the few traders who showed up in the warmer seasons. "I'm Declen, leader of the Mar'Kell. I've come seeking sanctuary for my people." The Governor raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Let's talk this out somewhere more comfortable." He turned to a citadel, guard, and voiced a command. The soldier gave a crisp salute, and crossed the wall, interacting with some kind of panel. Suddenly, a section of the wall slid open to the left of the massive gates. "Just step in there, would you?" the Governor asked, indicating the opening. "It's just so annoying having to push the damn gates open whenever someone wants to visit their cousin or something." He said, smiling. Declen decided he wasn't such a bad guy after all. At least he had a sense of humour. That was something. Declen leaped down from the top of the caravan he had been standing on so he could be heard from the wall, and made his way to the elevator. It whirred, and conveyed him smoothly to the top of the wall. He wondered just how many receptors it took to generate enough power to run that kind of last age tech. before he could come to a conclusion, the doors slid open and he stepped forward. "So, what's the deal?" the Governor asked him. "Uh, you might want to sit down for this." Declen advised.

"Ah, so that's where my librarian has gone. But was the bounty hunter really a good idea? Texer's a bit of a wild card if you know what I mean." Declen nodded. "But he's probably the best shot in the known universe, and is also a first tier Warlock. No offense, but in a fight between Matt Texer and two or three squads of your Citadel guards, I'd still have my money on Texer. The Governor laughed. "Well, he is good, there's no doubt about that. But what I still don't understand is why Elizabeth didn't ask the council to send a full expedition force. She's usually quite an intelligent girl. Lots of foresight and reasoning, if occasionally a little headstrong." Declen thought. "That would have caused panic. A massive force of guards, warlocks and equipment rushing through the streets to the Apex ring? That would have aroused some suspicions. But a smaller team would be able to slip through unnoticed." The Governor nodded. "That makes sense, but she could have taken at least a Squad of guards. It seems quite idiotic to risk one of our higher ranking officials like this, even if the situation is so dire." Declen nodded. "I don't disagree, but I trust Texer to get the job done. And not much further than that. Oh, quick question. Do we have the rights and privileges to trade whilst in the Citadel? I know you grant it every year, but it seems better to just ask you formally." The Governor nodded. "Trade all you like. Your people will be safe inside our walls." He said finally. The two men shook hands. "I wonder how they're doing out there." Declen said idly, thinking of Holly. "I'm sure they're fine." The Governor said comfortingly. "Now, you can have half of the market district for your caravans. Demetrius will probably have my head, but I value people over potatoes, don't you?" he said. Declen grinned, thinking of his own mess of traders, licences and permits he had to sort out every month. Since his people's economy focused mostly on income of specialised goods, and the trade they generated, his desk was often full of reports of applications for merchants, complaints, and general chaos. "They are a stubborn lot, aren't they." Declen agreed, and took his leave, shepherding his people into the large square they had been appointed. Again, his thoughts drifted to his sister. Where was she? And was she alright?