Chapter Text
Viole watched the space port grow larger through the window of his shuttle. Most planet ports were busy, bustling with people sprinting to catch their ships or meeting friends and associates. This one may as well have been a ghost town; there was no one on the shuttle but Viole and the pilots, who were separated from Viole by a shinsu-enhanced barrier, and the port held only a handful of small, clearly older ships.
With how quiet it was, Viole's arrival was likely to draw attention. He could only hope that it was also quiet enough that they didn't keep up with the news about FUG and Viole's reputation as the newest slayer candidate. The disinterest that the pilots treated him with was a good sign of that being the case.
The shuttle docked, and Viole nodded politely to the pilots as he stepped off the shuttle. His luggage drifted behind him, carried by the drone Hwaryun had secured for him for this trip. It was sorely necessary, since the malfunctions in his Thryssa augmentations sent pain shooting up his arms whenever he tried to carry any significant amount of weight.
Now that he was on the ground, he could see the port was poorly kept; scrap metal and discarded ship parts were littered in piles along the streets, as if the port was nothing more than a dumping ground. A few people walked the streets, but other than passing glances, none paid him any mind.
On his pocket, he pulled up the directions Hwaryun provided, though he suspected that even if he got lost, the port was small enough that he wouldn't be lost for long.
Viole picked his way between the piles of scrap, squeezing into an especially narrow alleyway when his pocket directed him. The door that he came to, made of several sheets of metal welded together, seemed no different from the other doors he'd passed, except for the small, stylized sweetfish etched in the wall beside it. According to Hwaryun, this was where he'd find the technician who could fix his augmentations.
"Khun Aguero Agnis deals in information and favors, not points," she'd told him as she pressed an information drive into his hand. "If you don't want to owe him, give him this. Information on who the Workshop has been working with."
"How did you get this?" he'd asked.
"Don't worry about it, my god," she'd said with a smile as she ushered him onto the shuttle. "And be careful with what name you use. Not everyone takes kindly to FUG."
"Wait—" Viole called, but the doors shut behind him before he could ask any other questions. He was on his own.
Taking a deep breath, Viole reached out to knock on the door in front of him now.
"Come in," a voice called out, and Viole opened the door and stepped in, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior.
The room he stepped into was small, a few mismatched armchairs and a sofa off to the side of the entrance. At the far wall was a sectional door, blocked off by a battered front desk with a man in a purple tracksuit sitting behind it.
As soon as the man's eyes fell on Viole, his brows lifted, surprise flitting across his face before he quickly schooled his expression into a smile.
"Hey," the man greeted him. "What're you here for?"
The man in front of him couldn't be Khun Aguero Agnis; Viole had seen— and killed— many members of the Khun family under FUG's orders, and each of them obviously took after the patriarch in appearance. Even the descendants of more minor branches had hair in shades of blue or those distinctive cobalt eyes, but this man, with his close-cropped brown hair and freckled face, looked nothing like them.
For a moment, Viole worried that he'd somehow gotten the wrong place, but Hwaryun had been very clear about the sweetfish carved into the wall. This had to be where he could find him.
"I'm looking for Khun Aguero Agnis," he said quietly. "I was told he could help with a problem I have."
The man studied him, then gestured off to the side. "I'll let him know you're here. Take a seat, man."
Viole hesitated, but when the man turned away from him to tap out a message on his pocket, he made his way over to the seats and perched on the least-battered armchair. He folded his hands in his lap, wincing as the motion sent pain tingling through his fingers. The worst part of this malfunction— worse than being put out of commission while he was still under the thumb of the FUG elders— was his inability to predict when the pain would strike. He'd gotten used to the constant, low-level ache of the augments FUG implanted in him, enough that some days it practically disappeared into the back of his mind, but this was new, different in a way he couldn't ignore. There was no getting used to something that came with no discernible pattern.
He turned his attention to his breathing, easing himself into a steady rhythm in and out. The pain didn't subside, but his frustration with it ebbed. That would have to be enough for now.
"He says he's ready for you," the man said, pulling a lever that raised the sectional door behind him.
Viole got to his feet. "Thank you, Mr. ..?"
"Shibisu." Shibisu smiled at him, leaning on the desk. "And you are..?"
Viole couldn't help but hesitate, Hwaryun's warning ringing in his head. By now, most people knew the name Jue Viole Grace as FUG's newest slayer candidate, but there was another name that he could use, a name that belonged to the boy he was before Rachel gave him away to FUG. That name was all but unknown to everyone but Rachel, Hwaryun, Jinsung, and Viole himself.
"The Twenty-Fifth Bam," Viole said slowly. "But you can call me Bam."
Shibisu nodded. "Good to meet you, Bam. I won't keep you out here any longer, so head on back there."
"Thank you, Mr. Shibisu," he said, making his way behind the desk. He slipped in through the open sectional door, and it rumbled closed behind him.
Compared to the front room, the space he stepped into was massive; the ceiling stretched at least three stories above his head, and a large spaceship took up the majority of the floor space. Above it hung rows of catwalks, glowing blue lighthouses hovering between them. As Viole squinted up at them, he could spot movement, but couldn't catch a clear view of the man he was supposed to meet.
After a second, though, a figure stepped from one of the catwalks to a lighthouse, which drifted downward toward Viole. The first thing Viole noticed was the figure's pale blue hair, pulled into a short ponytail. It was clear looking at him that he was who Viole was looking for, his coloration marking him as a Khun descendant. Yet around his ankle, partially hidden by the slacks he was wearing, was a thick silver band that Viole recognized as a tracking monitor; for his first year with FUG, Viole himself had been forced to wear one before Jinsung convinced the elders to loosen Viole's leash.
The man rolled up his sleeves as his lighthouse approached the ground, stepping off gracefully once he was close enough to do so.
"My name's Khun Aguero Agnis," he said cordially as he held out a hand to Viole, "but you can call me Khun."
"I'm the Twenty-Fifth Bam," Viole replied, shaking Khun's hand. Pain shot up his arm, but he managed to keep a straight face even as he quickly pulled away. "You can call me Bam. It's good to meet you, Mr. Khun."
Khun's head tilted ever-so-slightly, his eyes flickering down to Viole's arm. "What brings you here today, Bam?"
"Some of my augments have been causing problems," Viole said. "I was told that you might be able to help me."
"Of course," Khun replied, turning away. "Come with me." He began to walk to the far corner of the room— or perhaps it would be better described as a workshop— and Viole followed him. In the corner they came to, there was a workbench with a pair of seats beside it.
"What augments are you having issues with?" Khun asked, calling a lighthouse over with a gesture.
"I have one in either arm," Viole said, pulling up his sleeves to show the Thryssas. Khun's brows pulled together. "I haven't been able to carry much weight, and they've been hurting at random points. I, um, haven't been able to use their transformations, either."
"I see," Khun hummed. "Let me take a look at them, and then we'll discuss payment." He pulled a chair up next to the workbench and gestured for Viole to sit. Once Viole did so, he waved a hand, and his lighthouse cast a light over the two of them. "Put your arms up on the bench."
Viole raised his arms to lay them on the bench. Khun reached into his lighthouse, first fetching a pair of glasses and putting them on, then reaching back in to pull out a set of tools. When Khun leaned over to examine his arms, Viole looked away. It was silent as he worked. After about a minute, though, pain shot through his left arm, and Viole couldn't help his gasp.
Khun stopped immediately, and the pain faded into an ache. When Khun didn't start again, Viole looked over, only to see that Khun was already setting his tools back in their case.
"Is that it?" Viole asked quietly, as Khun put the case back into the lighthouse.
"For now," Khun replied. He leveled Viole with an even look. "I'd like to consult with one of my contacts before I start working. The tech involved should be no problem for me, but the way it interfaces with your arm is concerning. Most people don't feel pain while I work on their augments." His eyes were intense as they flicked back toward where Viole's arms rested on the workbench, and Viole found himself tucking them closer to himself and shifting so that his sleeves covered the augments. "But let's talk payment. What do you have to offer?"
Viole reached into his coat, setting Hwaryun's information drive onto the surface of the bench. Without a word, Khun pulled a device from his lighthouse, plugging the drive into the device rather than directly into his lighthouse. At Viole's questioning look, Khun offered up a quick, clever smile.
"I've had quite a few people try to compromise my systems through what they offer me," he explained, an odd sort of cheer in his voice. "It's nothing personal, just a precaution." He scrolled unhurriedly through the drive's contents on his device, eyebrows lifting higher with each second that passed. Finally, he set it aside, the smile gone from his face. "If this is true, it's very valuable information. Where did you come across it?"
Viole shifted nervously under the weight of Khun's interest. "I, um... One of my, uh, associates gave it to me. To use as payment."
"I see," Khun said. He regarded Viole for one more moment, then his lips curled upward again, and the tension broke. "Well, rest assured that you're in good hands. I've decided to see this through." Somehow, Viole had the sense that Khun was referring to more than his augments. "Have you already found a place to stay?"
"Not yet," Viole admitted. He'd been in such a hurry to find Khun that he hadn't thought about anything else.
Khun's smile only widened. "How about you stay with me, then?"
"What?"
"I have an extra room," Khun replied with a shrug. "Besides, if you stay in any of the hotels at this port, you're more likely to get killed than to get a good night's sleep. I'd rather not have that on my conscience."
Viole ducked his head, hiding his expression behind his bangs. "I don't have anything else to pay you with, Mr. Khun."
Khun tilted his head consideringly, that smile still on his face. "Smart, not offering a favor to a Khun son. How about this, instead: for every day that you stay with me, you answer one question of my choice."
Viole frowned. That seemed less dangerous than a favor, but he couldn't forget the warning look Hwaryun had given him as she saw him off. Still, how much harm could a few questions do? There was nothing Viole knew about FUG that could endanger the organization, if Khun even found out he was from FUG in the first place. "Okay," he agreed.
"Wonderful," Khun said. "I have the feeling this will be the start of a very productive partnership."