Hard Luck Hermit

Corey limped out of his bedroom and headed right for the common area of the ship. The central room had the most free space of any part of the ship, and therefore more room to stretch out sore muscles. Farsus already occupied one of the couches, but there was plenty of room for Corey to stretch out on the other. Farsus watched the sore Corey gingerly lower himself into place and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Resting weary muscles is tempting, Corey Vash, but only continued activity will build your endurance,” he said. “I would advise training your body if you intend to continue mating with Tooley Keeber Obeltas.”

“Fuck, I- god,” Corey said. He was hit by an initial wave of embarrassment that quickly faded. Considering how Tooley acted, people were probably a lot more casual when it came to sex up here in space. “Sorry. Could you hear that?”

“No. The vessel’s walls are soundproofed. However, I have known Tooley long enough to recognize her moods,” Farsus said. Tooley had recovered and gotten back to business as usual much faster than Corey, giving Farsus plenty of time to notice she was in a good mood. “I knew she had slept with someone, but it was not me, Doprel has no compatible organs, and Tooley would sooner eject herself into the vacuum of space than have sexual contact with Kamak, so that leaves you.”

“Good deductions, I guess.”

“I’d advise taking proper precautions if you intend to continue,” Farsus advised. “Carnivorous species tend to be violent in their habits.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Corey said. He had the bruises on his hips to prove it.

“I would advise not bedding carnivores unless you can be assured of your dominance in the dynamic, be it physically or mentally,” Farsus said. “Or communicate your relative fragility and hope they are sympathetic.”

“Ah, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Corey said.

“Not this time,” Farsus said.

“Speaking from experience there, big guy?”

“As I have said before, the pursuit of chaos obliges me to try many things,” Farsus said.

“Right,” Corey said, before turning the subject away from their respective sex lives. “So what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done, then?”

“The planet Woragg is home to a parasitic species of cephalopod that sedates a host body and then crawls inside its digestive tract to leech off it’s meals.”

“Oh god,” Corey said, trying not to gag at the mental image. “You didn’t?”

“I did.”

“On purpose?”

“Enlightenment requires us to understand all things, Corey Vash, even those that are unpleasant.”

“It’s not still inside you, is it?”

“Of course not,” Farsus said. “Meals are expensive enough without eating for two.”

After a very brief consideration, Corey decided to never, ever, ever ask how Farsus had gotten the parasite out of his body and changed the subject yet again.

“So why bounty hunting, then? If you’re just out here to do weird things, why spend time hunting people down?”

“Primarily due to the fact that traveling the universe requires money,” Farsus said. “Experiencing all the universe has to offer is made considerably more difficult if one starves to death in poverty.”

“Capitalism,” Corey scoffed.

“Quite so. The second reason is that aimlessly meandering the universe hoping for random opportunities is a slow and perilous way to advance one’s understanding of chaos,” Farsus said. “A scholar of my caliber must specialize, and my specialty heavily overlaps with the death-dealing skills of the bounty hunting profession.”

“Oh, okay, you’re the weapons expert,” Corey said. That much should’ve been obvious, in retrospect. There was a whole wall of guns hanging up in the common room, with a deployable tool bench for Farsus nearby. Farsus often tuned and maintained the weaponry in their downtime.

“That is my role aboard this ship, perhaps, but it is secondary to my true calling,” Farsus said. “I am an expert in death, Corvash. Understanding the ways a life can be destroyed is key to understanding the structure of life itself. I have broken minds and bodies alike in a hundred different ways.”

“That sounds kind of fucked up,” Corey said.

“I have most often killed the guilty, if that eases your conscience,” Farsus said. “And those few exceptions are found among warrior peoples, those who value and respect an honorable death against a worthy adversary.”

“This is just my culture speaking, but ritual bloodsport kind of upsets me too,” Corey said.

“I understand this inclination,” Farsus said. “Personally I see no honor in having one’s spine ritually removed by a complete stranger, but apparently there are those who would disagree.”

“A...spine?”

“It is customary for the winner of a Veth-Nul arena battle to take his opponent’s spine as a trophy after dealing the killing blow,” Farsus said. “It is considered a great insult to the deceased if it is not displayed. Would you like to see my collection?”

In spite of the many aches and pains in his body, Corey stood up and went back to his room.