2017-08-09: Cat and Mouse
- Log: Cat and Mouse
- Cast: Citan Uzuki, Kahm Yugh
- Where: Hilton
- Date: 8-9-2017
- Summary: Kahm Yugh investigates the matter of the mysterious "Doc."
==================================<* Hilton *>================================== Hilton is the third-largest city of Lacour, and the only port city along the Silver Coast. The harbour provides regular transport of goods to other ports throughout the continent, and was the primary supply line for the military kingdom of Arctica until the latter ceased communication. Since the arrival of the Sorcery Globe, ferries to the other continents have been ceased, with vessels having been converted to fishing and cargo purposes for the time being. The city itself is laid out along the rise of a tall hill overlooking the harbour, with the mayor's mansion occupying the uppermost plateau. There are relatively few private homes in the city, with most permanent residents working at the harbour, warehouse, or freighting goods to and from the rest of the continent.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
As a general rule, port towns enjoy more varied trade than their landlocked sister cities. In many cases, more cargo can be moved by water than by land, although water travel has its own dangers. Hilton displays the benefits proudly. Its shops have a great deal more than its landlocked sister cities, and its people are generally industrious.
The divide between the rich and the poor is as stark as anywhere, but nothing's perfect, right?
So it is that a certain simple country doctor has found himself in the port city of Hilton, browsing its wares and occasionally stimulating the local economy when something is offered cheaply enough to tempt him. He's brought with him a battered leather satchel, and it's into that bag that the few supplies he's discerning enough to purchase go.
Citan Uzuki cuts a distinct figure, taller than most men and with those green robes. It probably won't be hard to find him, if anybody were seeking him out.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Captain Kahm Yugh cut his way through the general shopgoing crowd with clear-minded purpose.
Hilton was his base of operations for the next several days, it's status as a port city and general proximity to the rest of the silver coast a useful trait for hearing the latest rumors and and reducing travel time to the other settlements. Both were essential factors in maintaining the low-key presence outside of Aveh Gebler's had adopted prime mandate-for the moment.
Although the Captain has been looking furiously for Citan for the last six months-ever since he and his men had searched the good doctor's abandoned home-he has no clue that the tall, green-robed man is the one he seeks. Even Lieutenant Van Houten's description was partial at best considering that she'd encountered him at night, and a vague description of 'a tall man in green' could hardly be seriously applied to ever surface dweller he encountered in the surface.
Even so, it was hard not notice the doctor in a crowd. The man's height coupled with his bright green robes set him apart enough that Kahm's gaze glanced his way...and lingered a moment longer. In those scant few heartbeats, a number of traits about Kahm may become clear to Citan-traits only a man of his training could recognize.
The way his cerulean eyes assessed and review his surroundings as if gazing from on high. Solarian.
The clean, efficient personal motions he governed himself with, a hand always near his apparent sidearm. Gebler.
A soft tinge to the air around him in a ever-present, carefully maintained personal etheric field, highly advanced. Element-or at least, Element training.
The moment passes, and the soldier takes several steps towards the good doctor followed by a half-pest him, stopping at the stand of the merchant behind the bespectacled man.
"How much for this?" He asks the vendor, gesturing at a local trinket.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
The professional accomplishments and training of the man following him are respectable, but they are not enough to hide the seeker from his own quarry. The man robed in green has been watching his uninvited guest for quite some time across the market; knowing, as soon as his eyes swept across him, that he is most emphatically not from around here.
Of course, the good doctor could hardly make that claim himself, but at least he knows how to fit in when he has half a desire to. Those cold and clinical eyes had swept across him while he had busied himself with crossing the street and looking down on his surroundings. Will they never change? The thought brings a small, bitter smile to flicker across his features; it looks momentarily out of place in features otherwise trained to be amicable and non-threatening.
That flicker of ice is subtle, though, and Citan continues his business, chatting in affable tones with the shopkeeper as Kahm butts in wanting a price quote on something the good doctor is fairly convinced he's not going to buy.
Ostensibly, they're on the same side, but that doesn't matter a whit to him. There are reasons why he is so deeply undercover that no one knows he's here. Dangerous reasons.
So the good doctor turns, and reserves a pleasant smile to the man when he almost whirls right into Kahm.
"Oh! I am sorry; I did not see you there." There's just enough fretting and apology in his tone to imply that he had genuinely not seen the man. Citan had learned to become a masterful actor long before his master had trusted him with this posting; it had been a vital survival skill, as a third-class Solarian in Etrenank. "Ah, that?" He lowers his voice in a tone of friendly conspiracy. "Those are fair, here, but if you are looking for something more reasonably-priced, I would see the stall two lanes down. There is a much better selection."
So helpful, the good doctor is. Testing, perhaps; curious to see how good Kahm's improvisational skills are.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm Yugh is not a spy, but a soldier forced to act like a spy by present circumstances. That distinction may hold little difference for the rank-and-file among the 'lambs', but it was little wonder that someone of Citan's training had been able to pick Kahm out before he'd even caught wind of the doctor himself.
"It's no trouble." Kahm insists at the man's apology, holding up a hand in apparent peace. He seems to take the Citan's generous nature at face value, turning to peruse the shopkeep's wares (and receive an uninspiring sales pitch) while tilting an ear to at least listen to the green-dressed man's friendly advice.
"Hmm." Kahm nodded his head and spoke to the shopkeep, "Thank you, but I think i'm good."
Citan received a brief, appraising eye that was swiftly turned upon the direction he'd implied. "My thanks, you can never be sure about these merchants." Kahm said, pursing his lips and adjusting the brim of his black-felt hat. "I hate to impose, but could you show me the way? I'm a stranger in this town, and I already lost myself for several minutes trying to get here from my inn."
A joke, but where the natural delivery was often flavored with a laughter and high spirit, Kahm seemed unable to provide such affectation. The man was far, far too serious to be doing this kind of work-and perhaps for his own good, in general.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Oh, certainly. I have already come from that direction, so it is no trouble to me at all." Citan manages another one of those affable, mild-mannered smiles, and gestures for Kahm to follow. "Come with me."
There is a curiously formal cant to the doctor's words. Although he carries no trace of an accent to identify his provenance, he speaks with a clinical formality, like one who learned to speak from a textbook rather than through actual conversations in contemporary colloquialisms.
"Most merchants here appear willing to haggle, but some are more willing than others," Citan says affably, once they're out of earshot from the original merchant. His voice is a pleasant baritone, and takes on the solemn air of mock solemnity, even while the man's eyes betray good-natured humour. "It is good to learn which of these are which early on. I do not think there are any who are unreasonable, here, but some merchants simply wish to be rid of their wares after a certain point of the afternoon. They do not want to have anything left to pack at the end of the day; they are only concerned with going home. You learn, after a time, to identify which of the merchants fit into that category."
Honestly, the good doctor could haggle someone down on their price just by throwing a bunch of words at them. If he keeps talking, they're going to be inclined to give him a deal just to get him to shut up and go bother someone else.
Citan leads the soldier through a few twists and turns. In fact, it seems as though it goes a good deal past where he had indicated the merchant ought to be. Soon enough, they've even begun to lose the people around them, making their way into a dark, shadowed market that seems more desolate than anything else; almost as though this part of the town might be abandoned.
The green-robed physician draws up short, cocking his head like a dog listening to something.
"Ha-ha! Good heavens, it seems as though I have only succeeded in getting us both lost..." He half-turns, regarding Kahm from the corner of an eye. This is another test, naturally. How will the duck out of water react? "Hmm. Now, I know that we came from the north side, because that is where the merchant with the candied apples was set up, but I also believe we passed the east side, where the ironmonger was..." Citan points to the indicated streets and frowns, as though he were honestly worried.
He is, of course, completely aware of where he is in the city. If he were that bad at observing his surroundings, he would have been a dead man a decade ago.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm inclined his head to Citan's invitation, following the doctor in general silence while the other man spoke for the both of them, filling the time with a veritable treaties on the dos and don'ts of flea market bargaining to the occasional nod and yes from the disguised captain.
He is a skilled a talker. Kahm thought to himself as they winded down one alley and then another, keeping meticulous track of their direction and progress while giving the man his ear. That he didn't know where he was going had been a lie, of course. Like Citan, he was already well-acquainted with the layout and byways of Hilton, offsetting what traits he lacked in the demeanor of an undercover agent with his capacity to research and prepare for assignments.
He realizes in short order that Citan was not taking him where he said he would, but goes on with the charade nonetheless. After all, a more sparsely populated venue suits his purposes just as well, particularly as his suspicions of this affable, ethnically-untraceable man began to rise.
But for what reason did he want to isolate them for.
That was a good a question, but Kahm would trust in his training to answer it, should it become necessary. When Citan declares they seem to be lost, the black-dressed man took a quick look at his surrounding before shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I suppose we're two peas in a pod, as it were." He declares both fruitlessly and without frustration, considering that trying to suggest the correct way back would conflict with his claim of poor directional sense.
Instead, he deflects. "I'm guessing you're a passing visitor yourself. Whereabout from?" The questions seems genuine enough, and Kahm is at least able to adopt a conversational tone. "I'm out from Bledavik, myself."
That was certainly telling. Kahm pointed his finger in a direction that would eventually take them out the docks if they followed it. "I was trying to keep track, but I think we came from that way."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Ah... no. I think we came from that direction." Citan points in a direction that will eventually take them back to the outskirts of town; a stable nearby that caters to travellers. It's a somewhat popular place with those who favour the road, such as couriers and the like. "I remember passing by a building made of red brick. At least, I think it was red brick. Perhaps it was white plaster?"
He reaches up to rest a curled finger at his upper lip in a gesture of perplexed consternation. His brow is furrowed just the right amount to lend credibility to his bafflement, and not quite enough to arouse suspicion or suspension of disbelief.
Beneath the guise of the absent-minded professor, his mind is sharp as a razor. The details of his surroundings rarely pass him by. It may be that Citan Uzuki can get hopelessly turned around in the heart of the city, but Hyuga Ricdeau's awareness and sense of self are exacting. He's not lost at all. Funny that they're both curiously aware of where they're at in a city they both emphatically do not belong to.
"Anyway, I do remember passing a livery stable. There is bound to be something there that we can use as a clue, or perhaps I can ask them if they know of an easy route back to the market square." He reaches up to scratch at the back of his head, all good-humoured embarrassment. "Good grief, my wife would be quite irritated if she knew I had lost my way so easily."
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Through a combination of a deflection and verbal smokescreens, the taller man manages to avoid Kahm's question about his origins. The captain is genuinely not sure if that was intentional or a mere byproduct of Citan's personality, but he decides to hold back on pressing the matter. "I seem to recall red as well." He adds, checking a timepiece that he kept by his side, squinting as it happened to catch the angle of the sun.
"Ah, you're a married man?" Kahm tilted his head, intrigued by the chance to learn a bit more of the man. "Best of luck to you there. I think I travel far too much for my work to ever take a wife."
Truth, peppered with the right amount of spice. This much Kahm had at least learned as a useful skill in making conversation with the locals down here, particularly when he wanted information. He would be hard-pressed to say he'd ever found much time or inclination for romantic pursuits, soldiering or no.
Again, he'll follow if Citan leads, carefully keeping an eye on their surroundings before making a more overt attempt to cut to the chase. "I'm surprised you seem to travel alone. The roads only seem more dangerous these days since what happened in Adlehyde. Bandits, beasts, and worse all running about the countryside as if they own it."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"I think the tavern was red brick. Or perhaps it was the stable itself that used red brick? Ah, hah-hah! I should have taken a map," Citan adds, in good-natured exasperation, seemingly at his own inability to remember the road. He turns to look at the other alley; not the way they'd come from, but the way they had been headed before they stopped by mutual agreement.
His dark eyes flick back at Kahm's intrigue. For a moment he finds him considering whether he wants to lead this man on a wild goose chase. Well, more of one -- figurative as much as literal. It might be dangerous, given his own unique position, but it would yield some knowledge on what Solaris is doing more than word on the street.
That is one thing he's never quite lost his habit of. 'Trust, but verify.' If he hears something in one direction, that doesn't mean it's immutable truth. Corroborate and collaborate. Gather information from multiple vectors.
Kahm Yugh is a vector, for the moment; one that is potentially quite useful.
He almost smiles, but it would not be a smile customary to the good doctor, and so he stifles the vague urge.
"Why, that is exactly why I travel alone," Citan points out, cheerfully, shaking his head. "The road is no place for my wife and daughter, is it? That would be placing both of them at unnecessary risk." Ah, good old absent-minded professor. "Besides, I am able to cover ground much more quickly by myself. A physician's skills are always needed, it seems, even in the busiest and most diverse of cities!"
His arms are even flung out in an expansive gesture, as though to indicate all of the town itself and its surroundings.
And then, as though remembering himself, Citan adopts a more moderate posture, adjusting his glasses calmly. "Of course, it would be better if they were not, but we do not live in a pefect world, do we? So, I travel where I must, and my family catches up to me a few towns later. It is a lonely life, sometimes, but I would not trade it for the world, you know. I do not thnk I could find a more understanding woman." This is spoken in earnest tones -- but for once, the doctor is not lying; is not falling back on partial truths or misdirection. It's straight, honest truth, spoken more calmly, softly, and emphatically than the rest of his speech. Truth, immutable.
He half-smiles. "You must be a formidable man, then, if you travel so frequently and encounter so little in the way of danger on the perilous roads." The same could be said of him, really, but he probably has some ready deflection for that, too.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm is wholly unaware of his status as a vector, that as he attempts to gauge, read, and weigh the words of this man, he is evaluated in kind. Though he's been approachable enough, the glance at his watch was telling-the soldier was not possessed of infinite patience, and too much dawdling would prompt him to abandon his charade in one form or another.
He found himself nodding at Citan's rationale-true enough, the road was no place for a woman and a child. It stood to reason, then, that taller man was likely capable of defending himself in some way...or perhaps his pockets were deep enough to hire those who were.
Then, enlightenment. "Ah, so you're a doctor." Kahm said, lifting his yes to the midday sun as they rounded that alleyway. "Yes, I don't doubt there is much need for men of your talents across Ignas right now, particularly those who can travel."
Several memories flash in quick succession before his mind's eye. The numerous herbal concoctions and physician's tools they'd uncovered in the home that overlooked Lahan. Fei and Dan's mutual references to a man called "Doc". Lieutenant Van Houten's own account of the same man, who spoke to her in Solarian.
Gather information, assess, and verify claims. The captain had begun to follow a similar track, striving to keep his posture genuine and neutral as he accompanied the friendly man through the still-sparsely populated byways of Hilton. "It seems you live a very earnest life, Mister...?" Kahm says, letting just enough time dangle for Citan to introduce himself before continuing. "For myself, it comes with the territory. I'm an investigator on behalf of the Smith & Luio Company, out of Bledavik. They send me all manner of places on behalf of their clients, and i'd be poor-suited to the job if I couldn't defend myself along the roads."
He shrugged, making no brags in the statement. "I merely travel as the swallow flies."
Two things stand out: Smith & Luio was most certainly one of the numerous front organizations Solaris operated on the surface, and the phrase Kahm had just used was a passcode, part of a set used to identify agents in the field. Granted, Citan was been in deep cover for many years...the handbook may have changed since then.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"I am a physician," Citan confirms, to the matter of his vocation. That thread of something more serious resurfaces again, and he tilts his head, in apparent concession. "There is unfortunately a great deal of need for such vocations throughout Ignas. It seems there are always people in need of curing, although sometimes even my skills are not up to the task."
His sudden, fleeting smile is almost gentle, those dark, sharp eyes momentarily soft. "I cannot work miracles. I am only a common physician. For while there are not always those in need of curing, sometimes there are those in need of closure, which is of as much importance."
At this point Citan is only wandering through the alleys, although part of his mind is keeping track of where they are walking. "Uzuki," he replies off-handedly to the hanging question for his name. "Doctor Uzuki. I go where the need for a skilled physician takes me, although my skill is hardly that of a master."
Folding his arms, he strides with those easy, long strides. "I see. Yes, I can see how that would be a necessity, to travel swiftly and safely. My congratulations, then, in your skills! I dare say they are most likely better than mine. I fear the extent of my skills are how best to run from the monsters, ha-ha!" There's that embarrassed, slightly self-depreciating laugh again.
He smiles. It's a slightly self-satisfied smile. Kahm's answers are beautifully textbook. How well, though, do those answers hold once the script is flung away?
"Have you ever seen a swallow in flight, Mister...?" His turn to fish for a name, along with a seemingly innocuous question. Time to see if this guy really is from the surface. The common cliff swallow is an almost ubiquitous bird, found wherever there is water, high places to build nests, and bugs to catch on the wing.
In other words, a sheltered Solarian wouldn't really know squat about them unless he spent some time observing; really and truly observing.
Citan smiles that disarming, pleasant smile. "Truly a beautiful sight, on the wing, aren't they?"
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
"I merely bring what's necessary, Doctor Uzuki." Kahm acknowledged Citan's praise with the same polite deflection he reserved for similar remarks from his superiors-the learned humility that was an essential skill for any third-classer who dared to rise within the ranks. Even in the more meritocratic environment of Gebler, he found it a difficult habit to drop...largely because he did not want to. The man disliked to stand an accomplishments individually, not when all of them were the culmination of many individual efforts acting as one.
This much at least seems to bleed through whatever mask the man was showing to Citan. An earnest soldier, if nothing else.
"Rider. Marcus Rider." He answers with his name, keenly aware that of all the times he had lied about who he was to any number of forgettable surface dwellers, this occasion gave him pause. A sheltered Solarian-either fresh to the surface or rarely setting foot outside of Bledavik-would scarcely be able to hold a serious conversation with Citan on the topic of fauna, but Kahm was neither. A veteran of six years landside, he was also known to spend an inordinate amount of time in the field doing exactly what the Doctor was looking for: observing, learning, comprehending.
If they were to rule these lambs effectively, they had know who they were. Their ways, their cultures, their ignorance. Such activities earned him scorn and rumors of 'going native' from the more hawkish of Gebler's retinue, but Kahm saw them in turn as cowards, fearful to set foot upon territory that might dare to reject them.
"They are." Kahm acknowledged, nary missing a beat. "Should you ever have a chance, there's a bluff near Port Timney where a roost of them has prospered for some years. At sunrise they'll take wing to skim over the water in search of insects to feed on, particularly at this time of year when they're likely to have hatchlings in the nest."
He turned to face Citan, his eyes blue and reflective.
"It's a wonderful sight. One of the few Filgaia has left to offer."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
The deflection is noted, but it doesn't arouse the good doctor's suspicions overmuch. It isn't particularly unusual. Among the maddeningly disparate cultures of the surface world, politeness is a common thread, especially among strangers. It doesn't carry the same connotations of humility, submission, and weakness that it does in Etrenank.
Some habits die hard, though, quite hard indeed. Even in assuming his identity as a simple country doctor, he has chosen politness as a cornerstone of his own false personality. Even as he cut down soldiers in Aphel Aura, he had been troubled; following orders was one thing, but the wanton slaughter displayed by his subordinates during that engagement had been shameful.
It had been regretful when they had been cut down in turn, but he had not regretted their loss as much as he had the citizens of Aphel Aura, merely defending their homes and families.
Of course, he had never spoken such seditious thoughts to anyone, not even his beloved wife, although perhaps she had come to guess his sentiments over the years.
Citan merely smiles that unassuming and mild-mannered smile. There is a queer finality about it, like the closing of a noose, but the man only reaches up to adjust his glasses in that loose-limbed way of his. "A pleasure, then, Mister Rider. It is always good to make the acquaintance of men in Smith and Luio's employ." The knowingness with which he responds to that phrase suggests he might be looking past the company's name. Does the good doctor know something more than perhaps he ought to? Or is he only being sincere?
Inwardly, Hyuga Ricdeau smiles, and finds himself revising his initial assessment of Kahm Yugh. Although he does not know the soldier's name, yet, he will in time; it shouldn't be too difficult to ferret that out of his various sources -- or roll up his sleeves and do some digging directly. Obviously, this man has taken the time to learn about his surroundings. It seems strange that watching a bird would rate such respect from the good doctor, but it does.
It speaks of Kahm being able to look beyond himself, beyond his station; beyond Solaris' perch above the clouds. Kahm does not assume the superiority that any other resident of Etrenank would, of the first and second class. He does not show the inherent arrogance that seems nearly bred into those of certain social standing. Indeed, there is something genuinely humble about his dedication to service, something that runs beyond the reflexive humility of a third-class citizen of Solaris -- the dignity of a professional dedicated to their craft, their task.
That certainly rates a little respect, considering how strong a pull that force is for Hyuga himself. No matter what guise he assumes, no matter what mask he wears, he is an utter professional, and dedicates himself to it fully. He could do no less. His life is dependent on his professionality and his dedication to excellence -- as a doctor, as an operative, as a man who lives his life on the knife's edge. With such a relentless compulsion towards excellence, he can't help but respect it in another.
So the doctor merely smiles that disarming smile, warm, almost fatherly, but not quite. He's still measuring the other man, even as he admires; he would be a fool to drop his guard.
"Splendid! I will have to remember that, and make a special trip out to Port Timney. Thank you for the advice! Perhaps I will arrange to meet my family there, and we will make a day of it, the next time I happen to have a surfeit of free time." His tone is transparently good-natured in a way that suggests he doesn't buy a word of it, because he never gets the luxury of free time. Free time is a myth.
A faint half-smile curls the edge of his mouth. Only a Solarian would take a bleak view like that. He resumes his easy pace, letting his arms fall to his sides, hands empty. "Oh, come, now, Mister Rider. I will certainly agree that swallows are beautiful creatures, that much is true, but there is much more to Filgaia than a particular genus of aves, is there not?" He risks a sidelong glance, along with one of those pleasant smiles. "That is why I do not mind my vocation, you see. It allows me to travel all different manner of places, and see all different manner of things. New people, most curious animals, natural wonders... those who live in a small village all their lives will never see such things, but those who travel, they will always be rich in experiences!"
That much is truth, just as when he had spoken of his wife; the ability to travel wherever he needs to go, and to suffuse himself in the local cultures, is a fascinating perk of his job. He has to have some kind of perk in this miserable sodding line of work, because the flip side is that circumstances manage to get himself into spectacular messes what feels like every other day of the week.
Of course, that sets apart the scrubs from the professionals. Much as cats, the professionals know how to roll with the punches land on their feet...
...Most of the time.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm has no inkling of the impression he just made on the man behind the doctor. As Citan so astutely detected, the other operative considers his answer a mere byproduct of doing his job, and doing it well. Kahm's own estimation of the other man was...uncertain, by leaps and bounds. Everything he said was spoken just right as if to suggest that he might know more than he let on, but enough to be anything more than mere suspicion. Certainly a man as traveled as the Doctor seem be would know of Smith & Luio and its agents.
"I did say among the few..." Kahm answers in half-jest, finally cracking what seemed to be something like a smile. Perhaps Citan's attitude was simply infectious that way. "But yes, we are in agreement in the benefits of travel. There is much I have seen that I would not have otherwise if not for the nature of my work. That much I am grateful for."
They differ, perhaps in key detail: Citan had come to welcome the people populating this land into his heart and mind. Kahm respected the land, but struggled still with those who lived on it. With their violence, their carelessness.
The violence is his own 'people', he reasoned, was a grim necessity demanded by the state of the world. A classic example of the Solarian ethos, internalized and embraced by an otherwise respectable work ethic.
Be all that as it may, Kahm can't spend all his time trying to unwind ever word the doctor throws his way-he did have other things he intended to do today. "My apologies Doctor Uzuki-as much a pleasure it has been to walk and talk with you, I am reminded of some other pressing appointments I must keep." He said, looking around a moment, "And I do think our surrounding I becoming a bit more familiar to me. I'll be sure to find that vendor you were pointing me towards later."
And with a moment allowed for further pleasantries and goodbyes, the soldier will take his leave of the good doctor, setting his own course with a good deal more confidence than he'd exhibited earlier.
Internally, Kahm wrestled with the implications of their meeting. The man he'd met was either a genuine innocent....or someone more formidable than he'd have ever expected to encounter.
This one might be worth a second opinion.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Oh, certainly." Citan's tone is agreeable enough, although he's still studying Kahm from the corner of a dark eye. He might respect the other's professionalism, but he doesn't know enough about him to understand the motivations. That, indeed, is the other piece of the puzzle; the million-gella question. That answer may make or break his estimation of the other man... but that will be no easy thing to ferret out of him.
If he were a more impulsive man in his heart of hearts, he might accept that challenge with relish and anticipation. He is not, though, and views it with the neutrality that is his due, flavoured by a bit of mild curiosity as to what drives such a man. Does he understand that the Solarian tenets he holds are things that he can never attain for himself?
Would it matter? Does it matter?
The good doctor can't answer that question. He doesn't have enough information. Not yet.
When the other makes it plain that he has other business, Citan waves a hand dismissively. "Of course, of course. Do not worry about me; I will find my way back to where I belong in short order. I am not afraid to ask for directions," he adds, with that pleasant chuckle. "Yes, it is all looking a good deal more familiar, is it not?"
Funny how both of them know where they are, despite wandering in a more or less aimless direction. Citan can orient himself quickly, though; a moment's study confirms his mental map of the area.
"Farewell!" The good doctor even goes so far as to raise a hand and wave Kahm off as the other sets off in what is presumably the right direction for wherever he's really going. That congenial smile lingers for precisely two seconds past the point where Citan suspects he's truly alone.
His expression falls into a much thinner smile, an expression more reminiscent of the sword he no longer carries. It's the same expression he had worn moments before he gave his squadron the order to infiltrate Aphel Aura. It's an expression of curiosity piqued... but he is a patient man.
Why is he so curious about this soldier? Poking around too much could be troublesome, although his status affords a certain degree of protection. Something about Kahm is a little different, though, from his rank-and-file brethren. Hyuga has always been fascinated by differences, where his countrymen had always feared difference and unknown; that, perhaps, was what had made him so comfortable in Aphel Aura. It was different from Etrenank's stagnation and rigidity, so very different.
For the moment, the doctor folds his hands behind his back as he walks. His strides are easy, the practised long, nonchalant stride of the absent-minded professor. It's an unconscious habit of his when his mind is on something to pace a bit, and returning to the market is a handy excuse to stretch his legs.
He'll have to keep an eye on this Marcus Rider. All things different are worth investigation, as far as he is concerned... and 'Mister Rider' has established himself as different. Hyuga Ricdeau intends to find out how, and why. He does not mind the unknown, so much, only it tends to be dangerous when he doesn't have all the details -- so he seeks them out, compulsively.
There is a small blind spot in his awareness of the weave and weft of current affairs, although he could forgive himself that with all that he's had to keep track of lately. Still, it wouldn't do to grow careless. Even if one man's private motivations seem like a needless detail, one never knows when such information proves a useful tool in one's kit... or a weapon in their arsenal.
Quietly, Hyuga Ricdeau makes a mental note to himself to correct this oversight in time.