The Choice

### Spice Hall Rumor

The following section was overheard in the Spice Hall. It is an unconfirmed rumor, at best, and may contain fan-fiction, incorrect facts, or even outright lies.

**Author:** spillb2

**Original Post:** link

It was said that in Moklumnue trading families, children were taught to haggle before they could walk, and this wasn’t far from the truth. Lorn’s earliest memories all included trade in some way, be it playing merchant with his siblings and cousins or watching his father and mother barter with other families. He had proven himself exceptionally adept at the art, part of the reason he had been chosen to inherit the Charter that now defined him, and he had used his skills to amass quite the fortune.

He’d branched out from there, he was now a decent ship-warfare commander from all the time he’d spent looking fighting pirates determined to take away his hard-earned cargo, and he’d learned more about the seedier side of trade, even though that was not his primary source of income, preferring to work within the bounds of Shalun’s law. However, he knew his hands were not clean.

But this…

Keeping a mask up during negotiations had become so much second nature to him that he could maintain it on instinct. He’d talked easily with Warden Seith, even playfully invoked his knowledge of Steel Song culture to set her more at ease as she laid out the horrific plan that was in motion to subvert Shalun’s justice and put it in the hands of a Void-damned death cult! He’d convinced himself it was all part of the plan, that he’d be able to make it up by rescuing Vytautas from these psychos, and in that room, with his merchant’s charm on full power, in many ways he’d honestly believed it.

But now, back in the sanctuary of his office… he collapsed into his desk chair, unable to stop his hands and legs from shaking.

Consult Mattack… damnation, he was friends with Zenrin! They had been among the first he’d branched out to after leaving the nest of the Moklumnue trading network! Prince Guun had been the first official Arbiter Brokstrom had sent him to in the founding of the Coalition, he could think of a dozen practical reasons to object… and he found he didn’t have to, since his conscience was screaming at him that this was wrong!

But what could he do? He was a merchant: a talented and rich one, certainly, but his Eternal Song was no true warship. His security, while skilled and equipped enough to deal with any pirates or would-be assassins that made it on board, were not numerous or individually dangerous enough to pull off the plan that had creeped into his mind as the warden laid out her system. Hadn’t the disaster in Rivesh’s old base proved that? The cold, ruthless part of him insisted that the only safe option was to go along with the plan, sell Mattack’s life to buy favor, and be ready when the one he’d been sworn to rescue was passed through the pipeline. Another part of himself, less cold but still practical, said he should take the Counsel, go back to Commander Axeil, get a platoon or two of 303, and have them do the hard work.

But the man in him who’d protected a condemned princess from all comers, the one who’d ambushed a pirate ship on its own turf to recover a family heirloom and save a stranded captain, the one who had thrown himself into the foundation of the Coalition because he believed in the Arbiter… that part of him could not accept these choices. By the time he’d returned with reinforcements, the intel he’d have gotten from the Counsel would almost certainly be so out of date as to be useless; and the thought of delivering Mattack to that den of vipers…

The door whispered open. “Captain?” Elsa Nariman asked softly.

Lorn straightened instantly, the merchant’s mask settling automatically onto his face and form as he smiled. “Elsa?” he said. “Can I help you with something?”

Elsa gave him an unamused look. “I think that’s my line, boss,” she quipped. “You came back from the meeting looking like you’d just taken a walk through the Void without protective gear, avoiding everyone and locking yourself in your office. You only do that when you’re stressed, and a stressed Captain is bad for morale. So spill, what’s gone wrong?”

Lorn couldn’t help but laugh honestly: Elsa had proven herself perfectly willing to stand up to her Captains when she thought they were being foolish: her influence was probably the only reason Captain Kahern hadn’t been arrested for mouthing off. He’d known that taking her on; he had to live with it, especially since she would be at the fore-front of any damn fool rescue op. Slowly, he explained what he was being asked to do. Elsa nodded along, not speaking as she digested the situation, only Lorn’s skill at reading people detecting the anger that seethed behind her eyes.

“So what are we going to do about this?” she asked as he finished.

Lorn sighed. “We can either go with the plan, which is the safe option, or we can do something really stupid that’ll almost certainly get people killed.” He dropped back in his chair. “Void, it’d be like Ironhell all over again…”

She shook her head. “Except this time the FDF won’t know we’re coming, while the xeno always know. Besides, they’re human. Humans are squishy and die easily when you shoot them, whereas xeno…” She shuddered: while Lorn had seen the battle of Ironhell play out over the helmet cams of his troops, Elsa had been there, had watched the skitterlings pour from every crack and cranny in that damnable tomb, had taken over when the previous head of the mission had been ripped apart by a hunter and led the desperate retreat that had saved many lives. “So long as we have surprise on our side, I’d say we have a good chance of breaking our man out without sacrificing our souls on the altar of expedience.”

Lorn wanted to believe her, but as a Star Trader his first and most important duty was to protect his crew, and this didn’t seem a good way to do it. “Elsa-”

The Indi explorer cut him off by reaching across the desk and grabbing his hand. “Captain, we can do this! We’re Star Traders, we’ve seen and fought things these gravs couldn’t possibly imagine! We know their back door, so long as Mattack can tell us where Vytautas is kept, we’ll be able to bust right through and get him out. We can save both of them. It’ll be hard, but all good men must make the choice between what is right and what is easy, and I don’t think you’re one to take the easy road.”

Before meeting Elsa and her former Captain, Lorn had thought that all Explorers were insane. Who in their right mind would go out into the wilds with xeno, horrible weather, dangerous plants and all that nonsense? Leave the wilds to the Hunna and wanderers, give him a bustling Exchange any day. They might try to take you for all you’re worth, but at least they wouldn’t shoot you, eat you, or worse.

Now… well, he still thought Elsa was nuts, but he’d come to appreciate that, to her, a rare discovery was just as meaningful as a good haggling session was to him. It certainly made her brave: and that bravery might just let her pull through.

However, above all else, she was right. He knew in his heart what the right choice was: there were lines that he would not cross, and this was one of them.

“Get the troops together,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Bring him back: get our man here and I’ll get him the rest of the way.” Elsa nodded with a smile before saluting and hurrying out of the office. Lorn settled back in his chair for a moment before pulling up a screen and starting typing. He’d made his choice: now he would have to trust that his crew would be able to carry the day. However, he would still see what kind of cover his connections could throw up to give them a better chance.

See Also: A Hunt Hindered, A New Home