"You're right, the entire government system is corrupt," the first merchant was saying. "Regardless of what the highest Dynasties like Sietinen and Vaenetri say, the Priesthood runs the show." He took a sip of a green liquid from his glass. "But it doesn't matter who's in charge. Nothing happening in the outside worlds matters to any of them."

Cris had heard numerous similar conversations over the last year. Each one was a series of unflattering generalizations about the High Dynasties and how no individual could possibly ever care. He was sick of hearing it. We're not all like that. I'm different. The Priesthood is the real menace, not the Dynasties. He was about to walk away.

"Real conflict is headed our way, but they do nothing," the other merchant said. "I've been to the outermost territories recently. It's brutal, and it's only getting worse."

Cris hung back. That's new...

"They're certainly not going to tell us what's going on out there," the first merchant agreed. "Meanwhile, countless people are starving and being taxed to death."

"No shite. All of those purists think alike. It's about maintaining power and getting richer, not helping people."

"Thank the stars for the TSS! I hear at least they have the decency to tell their first-year trainees about some of what's going on in the rest of the galaxy. Give people a chance to get out of whatever hole they were born into."

"It's hardly enough. We're all foked."

The first merchant gulped the rest of his glass. The second did likewise.

What kind of conflict are they talking about? Cris knew it wasn't his place to intrude, but he was feeling inspired after his recent reflections on Tararia. He stepped up to the merchants. "The High Dynasties do care about their people. You shouldn't be so dismissive."

The merchants stared at him, taken by surprise. Both burst into uproarious laughter.

"How naïve!" the first merchant exclaimed. "Generation after generation it's always the same shite. They ignore us out here, and that's never going to change."

"There is always hope for change," Cris countered.

The merchant scoffed. "Hope, maybe, but that doesn't mean it will ever happen. The Dynasties and Priesthood control everything, and we're nothing to them. You or I can't do anything about that." He turned back to his companion with an indifferent smile, shaking his head.

Perhaps there isn't anything he can do, but I am in a unique position. "Then someone already high up has to bring about change," Cris said with renewed vigor. "Someone who doesn't share their predecessors' ideals."

The merchants shook their heads, laughed again as they turned to face Cris.

"You're still here?" the second merchant jeered as his drink was refreshed by the bartender.

The first merchant sighed. "The problem is the people with influence! Everyone has been born into their position, and no one would give that up."

I would. There have to be others. "The Dynasties are only as powerful as the people let them be."

"If that's the case," said the second merchant, "then the Dynasties are doing a foking good job of keeping the populace placated through lies."

Some passersby took notice of the debate and stopped to listen.

We don't lie to anyone. "I'm sure people are told what they need to know."

The merchant's expression became completely serious. "What about a war? Is it right to keep the war a secret?"

What war? Cris hesitated. "Someone thinks so." Have they kept secrets even from me?

The merchant shrugged and waved his hand, brushing Cris off. He tried to crack a smile. "Then what does it matter? Whether it's the Priesthood or someone new, it'd still come down to one group deciding what others should know."

Could there really be a conflict going on that I don't know about? "But what if it really is for the best? Knowledge and power often come with a price. Perhaps it is necessary for a few to bear the burden."

A murmur of agreement passed through the small crowd watching the discussion.

What does he know about the war? Cris was about to reach out to the merchant's mind to see what he could glean, but a jeer pulled his attention back to the present.

"What do you know? You're no one!" The merchant's eyes narrowed as he focused on Cris.

Cris looked around the crowd. "Everyone can do something." I might not love politics, but maybe I can do what no one else has been willing to do.

The merchant shook his head. "The Dynasties and the Priesthood have been this way for as far back as anyone can remember. There's no point in talking about change. Anyone who does would likely end up the same way as the Dainetris Dynasty—ruined and all but forgotten. When it comes to matters of Tararia, civilians have no influence."

Cris examined the expectant faces in the crowd. "Then the remaining Dynasties have to listen. With their help, the Priesthood could be brought down."

The merchant recoiled, eyes darting. "Watch what you say—the Priesthood hears everything."

No wonder the Priesthood has so much control. People shy away at its very mention. "I don't fear the Priesthood."

The merchant froze, his gaze fixed on Cris.

Cris looked at the ground. Stars! What am I doing? He glanced up, noticing all the people around him looking on with a mixture of wonder and apprehension. I have to end this. "I'll be on my way now." He turned away from the merchant. "Excuse me." He pushed his way past the onlookers before the merchant could protest. As he retreated, he thought he saw Thom standing in the crowd.

Cris rushed back to the Exler. Is the Priesthood really concealing a war? He went straight to his quarters and sat down on his bunk, his mind spinning. Who is the enemy? Over what? Why would everyone on Tararia keep it from me? Do they even know...? Never before had he heard rumors of a war. The occasional spat, surely, but not a war. He tried to rationalize the claim, but got nowhere. After several minutes, he caught himself. It doesn't matter. I'm trying to forget that life.

With a deep sigh, Cris forced himself off his bunk. He figured he may as well distract himself by preparing the next route for their upcoming deliveries.

An hour of sporadic work passed in the flight deck. Though some questions still churned in the background, Cris soon felt much more settled. However, he became anxious again when Thom entered, looking concerned.

"What is it, Thom?" Cris asked. He never looks at me like that.

The captain shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I— I was just surprised to hear you say those things at the bar earlier."

Cris dropped his eyes to the floor, thinking back to the encounter with the merchants. "I'm sorry for my behavior, Thom—" It was so stupid of me to say those things!

Thom shook his head. "You were just speaking your mind." He took a deep breath. "But, you can't threaten Tararian authorities like that. People can complain and wish things were different, but what you said about bringing down the Priesthood—that's just foolish."

Yet, he must know I'm right—that they're the root of Tararia's problems. "I understand."

"Good." Thom looked around the small room, not meeting Cris' eyes. "Now, can we just move on?" Cris nodded, but Thom still looked distraught when he left the room.

Cris' heart began to race. Something about Thom's demeanor had changed. Stars, of course! Only someone from a Dynasty would dare speak out against the Priesthood in public... and Thom knows it. Shite.

For two days, he and Thom avoided eye contact, but they eventually returned to their normal routine. Still, the encounter with the merchant had moved Cris, and his subliminal thoughts turned to Tararia. He had the power to make a difference—in a way few others could. However, he couldn't bring himself to go back. Yet. He wanted no part of the current political system. But, with the right alliances, perhaps things could change one day. For now, there is no place for me there. I still have so much to see.

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