Time is Money

Mars dumped the contents of the leather bag onto his counter. The leather bag was a bag of holding; meaning that although the leather bag wasn't huge, its insides were. Everything that Mars collected after the battle was stored in the bag. On his counter, a small mountain of things poured out.

Sorting through all the battlefield items was a favorite activity of Mars. The items were first separated by categories, scanned for malicious traps, and then assigned a value based on the Shellback Empire's valuation guides. For items not listed in the guide, Mars assigned an estimated value.

An eye-catching pile of precious gems sat on a small hill. These weren't something that could be sorted by just looking at them. Gems were sometimes plain gems; while at other times they were condensed power supplies, magic tools, storage devices, and so forth. In order to identify what the gem was, Mars had a special scanner that he placed the gems into.

Eventually, he came to a red ruby and was about to place it into the scanner when he heard.

"Ido Mars, your fortune has arrived."

Mars jumped a little when the voice sounded out.

"Oh a talking ruby, I know what to do with you!" Walking to the backroom, he opened a drawer and nonchalantly tossed the ruby in. Closing the drawer, Mars went back to processing his finds.

A few hours later, Mars finished taking inventory and removed about a third of the items. These items represented the value of thirty percent of all items taken from the battlefield. He swept these items into the bag of holding and set it to the side. The remaining two-thirds were organized and put into their appropriate places within the store. He removed some of the items from the display window for his newly acquired items.

After he finished, Mars grabbed the bag of holding and left his shop. Walking down the street, he saw a few of his neighbors running about. It was already mid-morning and his shop was usually open by now. However, the day after a battle was usually a semi-holiday for people. Those who traded in battlefield equipment were required to bring one-third of their finds to the Shellback Empire's tradepost as a tax.

As he walked toward the Shellback Fort where the trading post was located, he was constantly greeted by people.

"Hey, Mars," An older man waved toward him.

"Mr. Higgins! How's that modified dragon tendon doing for your back?"

"Not bad! I have a stretchy spine now. It really surprised those magic brats yesterday!"

"Don't stretch it too much. I don't have any more of those."

"I'm sure Mr. Ming can find one!" The old man yelled back.

"Oh, really? If Mr. Ming has one, he'll charge you four times more for a defective product! Everything I sell is top of the line!"

"I'm kidding, I would never go to Mr. Ming."

Mars laughed without commenting. Ming was his only competitor. Everyone else who gathered things from the battlefield either traded them in for Empire merit points or sold them directly to him or Mr. Ming.

A kid about thirteen years old ran up to Mars out of breath.

"Mr. Mars, are you still looking for starburst canisters? I found a few."

"Sebastion! You're always so industrious. Bring the canisters to the shop later."

"Seb, Mr. Mars. Only my Mom calls me Sebastion."

"You're Mom and I are the only ones, Sebastion. Now tut off, I'm heading to the trading post." The frustrated boy ran off leaving Mars slightly amused.

The entire time that he walked to the trading post, people approached him about things they found or asked about things they needed. Mar's reputation for honest dealing and quality products built a strong and faithful customer base.

Once Mars entered the fort, it took another half an hour to reach the actual trading post. The trading post was a large building that was probably an old food store a couple of hundred years before. Behind the patches and replaced sections, faded images of happy people enjoying fruits or cereals peeked out in different places.

In order to trade, Mars needed to walk to the back of the trading post for the dealers' post. A middle-aged fat man with odd bits of tech and armor sat comfortably behind his counter. He seemed quite free as he reclined in his creaking chair. A big grin stretched across the man's face when he discovered Mars.

"Old Mars! I was wondering when I would see you. You usually come a bit earlier." The man grinned as Mars stepped forward and shook the man's hand."

"Listen, Elk, I'm getting too old. These battles are getting more intense. I barely dragged these old bones out of bed this morning!"

"I bet you you couldn't bare to pay your taxes. You probably sat at home fantasizing about the profits you could make!"

"A tax-free world is indeed a dream. But If there is one thing I really hate is having to turn in these bags of holding and space rings every time I find them. They make transporting much easier."

"There's no problem if you want to keep a bag of holding, just sign up as our Empire's official trader and you can have a dozen of those things!"

"You never stop trying to pitch me on joining up, Old Elk! You know there's not much profit for me if I do that. What's the inconvenience of not having a bag of holding to having my freedom to make as much money as I want?"

"Do you really make that much more? At least joining the Empire gives you job security. You won't even need to fight on the battlefield anymore!"

"Ha, you and I both know how insecure job security is with these legacies. This Shellback Empire has ruled this area for about five years. The only reason it's managed to maintain its hold is because of how remote we are from other territories. As soon as a more ambitious or more capable Legacy takes an interest this place will change owners."

"Hey, not so loud, Mars, maybe you don't care, but I can get in trouble for listening to you saying those things!"

"Don't worry, the ones who would criticize you don't have the time."

"Have you heard something Mars?" The old man sat forward in his chair. He clearly anticipated what Mars would say.

"Nothing specific, but haven't you noticed that the rates of attacks have increased? During the first two years of the Shellbacks, there wasn't a single legacy challenge. In the third year, there was only one Legacy battle. From the fourth year until now, we've fought a total of twelve Legacy battles. The last one was only three months ago. It's like the Shellbacks are being worn down intentionally, or maybe the Hidden Legacies are finally strong enough to compete. Both possibilities imply that the Empire's days are numbered if something doesn't change."

"Hmmn, I'll need to make some preparations, you've got a good eye for these things. Ahhh, it's too bad you never got a Legacy. You're so slick that even if you couldn't win you'd probably hang in for a few decades."

"Ha ha, why would a Legacy choose me? I'm too opinionated. These Legacies choose simple-minded people who will do as told. The last thing those old Legacies want is free thinkers. I would ignore every opinion of those puppets masters and do things my way!"

"You've always said the reason these Legacies were never able to make a comeback in the past was probably that they had too many wrong-headed ideas."

"Most of these legacies disappeared in the first place because their leadership was made up of fools. At any rate, if we keep talking we might really get in trouble. Here, my tax payment is in here. This is my record of spoils."

Elk took the record of spoils and examined it, next he removed the contents of the bag of holding. After spending a few minutes calculating. After calculating, he produced a black tab. It was as thin as a credit card, but its size was about as big as half a sheet of paper.

"Alright, Mars, everything looks good. The contents covered the tax and the bag of holding gives you one hundred merit points. If you like, I can use those merits to pay for this year's A-1 Trade License."

"Sure, might as well get that out of the way. Although, it's probably a waste. Who knows how much longer this Empire has."

Elk let out a sigh not disagreeing with Mars. After making a couple of adjustments, Mars placed his thumb on the document and inserted a little energy into it. After he inserted the energy, the tablet changed from black to white. Elk threw the tablet under the counter and sat down again.

"See ya' Elk!"

"See you next time Mars!" The pair nodded at each other. Mars turned to walk out.

As Mars exited the trading post, a man slightly older than Mars nearly walked into him. The two men stopped and looked at each other.

"Oh, it's you." The older man said with a slightly perturbed face. His eyes arrogantly and dismissively turned to the upper right corner of his eyes.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Ming, still having gas problems I see," Mars said loudly.

Mr. Ming flinched angrily. Others in the surrounding couldn't help but look over at the pair of older men.

"I don't have gas problems!"

"Maybe it's just your face then, you always look like your passing wind when I see you." Mars laughed lightly. The others near them couldn't help but stifle their laughs. Mr. Ming wasn't liked by too many people, but he was a powerful businessman who they needed to work with from time to time. No one wanted to offend him.

"You are so crude, a sign of lower intelligence. Come to my shop and I will teach you how to carry yourself like an adult. I'll start by washing out your mouth!"

"Are you going to get out of my way or do I need to move you?" Mars asked as he glared at Mr. Ming.

"I would like to see you try..." Ming began to say.

"Fine." Without much effort, Mars picked up the smaller man, placed him in a shopping basket, and gave it a shove. The old man's screams could be heard as he passed through the lot until finally crashed into a parked military vehicle. The basket crashed and then fell over. Mars laughed and left.

"You can't do that! I'll get you for this Mars!" The old man was uninjured but feisty. He jumped to his feet and hurled profanity at the departing Mars.

"Maybe you should have your mouth washed out with soap, come to my shop later and I'll help you learn how to behave like a human."

Ming stopped shouting immediately. He noticed others were staring at him. He hated drawing attention to himself like this. He was always the professional and composed Mr. Ming to everyone. But Mars could tear that image down instantly.

Eventually, Mars returned to his shop. A line of people already lined up outside the doors. The group was kept in line by little Sebastian.

"Alright folks give me a few minutes and I'll open the doors. Sebastian, keep them in line." Before the boy could object to being called Sebastian, Mars tossed something to the boy. When he saw what it was he grew excited.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Mars, leave it to me, I'll take care of these people!"

As Mars entered his shop, he heard the boy barking out orders to the people outside. Laughing, Mars sat behind his counter and sighed.

"Another day, another dollar."