Draconis System, Neutral Zone Bar

Itrop sat in the back room with the four other commodores that remained. Each was in charge of three ships at the moment. Thirteen ships. Fully crewed, there would be a thousand souls at his disposal. The antics of those bent on revenge had been costly, and he was inwardly cursing the fools and the fools who followed them. Add in to that the recent news from Vilantia, where yet another Greatlord had somehow come up lesser than Gryzzk. It rankled deeply that it seemed as though the nobility of the homeworld was unable to control the commons. One specific commoner to be exact.

Still the news wasn't entirely bad. Fewer ships meant fewer commodores, and his outlay for the weekly meetings was accordingly lesser. In addition, he was able to hire out some of his crew for short-term work, and he himself had established that his knowledge of various trade facets was valuable enough to eke out an acceptable living, for the moment. Their campaigns of truth were slow but steady, and there were daily communications expressing a distaste for the current direction of their respective governments, and ships filled with individuals of a similar mind to his. In front of him was a tablet bearing one of those messages. He looked up at the messenger with a slight frown as he ate.

"So. Commodore Felavi. The anonymous benefactor expects us to go to Antares, a system on the cusp of violence and do what precisely?"

The Commodore in question mopped the edges of his plate with a thick piece of bread. "Deliver items to those who need them, and get paid well for doing so."

"They seem nonspecific as to the items, and the particulars of the delivery. Is our mysterious benefactor as cautious with the pay?"

There was a headshake in reply. "No - the banker was made quite aware that silence and anonymity have their own price, paid upfront."

"Not exactly acceptable. Are we to be delivering these items without knowing what they are?"

"We are."

"Increase the upfront price by twenty percent if they don't provide handling instructions."

There was a tilt of curiosity. "To what end, Itrop?"

"Our client's anonymity is assured, but their cargo is another matter entirely. If they wish us to transport dark cargo with no safe handling guidance we will treat it with the greatest of care. There is a cost attached to such privilege."

"They may contract with others in such case."

"They may. But they risk dealing with others who are less cautious and more curious. If our benefactor wishes to provide transport guidance, the additional twenty percent can of course be waived." Itrop finished his chicken and settled back a bit. "Now then, do we have any additional ships coming to the fold?"

Another commodore spoke up. "A full six of ships are weary of Freelord Uliod's ways. They are en route with their holds burdened and links back to tell their more cautious siblings of our food and work. In addition, there are three Warfreighters who are reconsidering their oaths to the Vilantian War Ministry."

"Mmm. Make sure we receive them well. Ensure that our Terran engineering group can investigate and make recommendations."

"To what end? One would think that a Vilantian would have a dark scent of Terrans."

Itrop spread his hands casually. "I'm here - obviously I'm not most Vilantians. Plus if the stories are to be believed, a fusion of Hurdop, Terran, and Vilantian technologies is a formidable thing."

The soft laughter as Itrop referred to the battle holos that had been cut and respliced and used in mercenary recruitment flexisheets as 'stories' was warming to Itrop's heart.

___________

Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose

Gryzzk's eyes fluttered open as he recalled the night. It seemed that the Hurdop ales were easier on his head than Terran ones. The more likely explanation was that he simply hadn't drank as much as he listened to Reilly and her mother have something of a conversation - a great deal of it seemed to be the first steps of an epiphany of sorts for the elder Reilly as she spoke to each of them in turn and found that the younger Reilly wasn't as out of place on a mercenary ship as her mother suspected. The worst of it was that Delia had been constantly petting Gryzzk's arm as if it were her own personal Rhipl'i.

Kiole was there next to him, mostly. At some point in the night she had taken possession of both blankets, looking for all the world like a Terran croissant. Gryzzk sat up and attended to most of his normal morning routine, watering the plants and enjoying the slow growth of green as all four planters showed signs of life. Then he leaned back in his chair and took in the sight of Kiole as she slowly divested herself of blankets and lifted her head, fur askew in a pattern only possible after hours of slumber and yawned, rolling her head left and right before pouting at Gryzzk as he emerged from the bathroom.

"You were supposed to wake me before showering." Her slow stretch was enthralling, and Gryzzk let himself be enthralled by the movement.

"I have glorious news for you lady warrior - I am as of yet unshowered. And you, were not supposed to take both blankets."

"Our child was cold." Kiole walked over to nuzzle Gryzzk and left a trail of nightclothes on the way to the shower.

Once the particulars of cleanliness had been sorted, Gryzzk made his way back to engineering where more good news from Tucker awaited him.

"Major - repairs are done, just need you to slap your thumb on the inspection report and we can get this lovely little tub certified ready to move again."

"Sounds good, Chief. You and the rest of the engineering section put everything on standby, lock the doors and report to the nearest bar on the station for a round of drinks, charge it to my account. XO, recall all personnel from shore leave, advise the station dockmaster. We leave in twelve hours."

Rosie appeared from behind a corner. "How'd you know I was here?!"

Gryzzk lifted a brow. "Do I truly need to dignify that -"

"Huh?!" Rosie's interruption was brusque.

"Do I truly need to dignify that with an answer?"

"Well...I suppose not."

"Has the recall been sent?"

"It has, Freelord Major."

"Good. You are to accompany the Chief and make sure the section gets back here safely."

"Fer what?!"

"Because you are the only one who won't get drunk." Gryzzk paused. "You can certainly pretend to if needed."

Rosie's scent perked up a bit more. "Does that mean I get to bounce a holocred off his ass?"

Gryzzk closed his eyes and pinched his nose bridge. "Use your best discretion, Rosie. Please refrain from further comment, particularly in regard to fanfiction writers. Dismissed."

The engineering section all but carried Gryzzk out as they left to seal the doors to engineering, leaving him vaguely amused as Gro'zel and Delia went to the dayroom. It seemed a semblance of order was returning to the ship as the company began slowly returning to the ship in threes and sixes.

For his part, Gryzzk paid a quick visit to medical, which was blissfully empty.

The Cottles were laughing at some story or another as he poked his head in. Miss Doc Cottle was gesturing with a small glass of something. "...so I asked him 'are you sure you don't want an anesthetic' and he said 'I put it there myself, I'd take it out myself if I could reach it'. So I tugged, got three centimeters out, and he made this sound - 'nyunnngrhun' and passed right the heck out." She shook her head. "Someday, people will realize that warning labels are not challenges."

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Gryzzk cleared his throat. "I ah, wanted to make sure that the guests are well."

Mister Doc Cottle nodded. "Right as rain. Just another thing for the notebook about exotic cuisine. Apparently Hurdop's version of lemon fish produces flu-like symptoms. Not fun but a few saline IVs and some crackers later, they're resting comfortably in their quarters."

"Excellent." Gryzzk paused. "I have been meaning to ask, but were you able to avail yourselves of some time on the surface?"

They both chuckled softly as Miss Doc spoke. "I'm sure Hurdop is a fine place, but this is a fine enough weekend spot. We nipped out to the shops one time for a few ales and something to eat, but we're not fond of breaking our hips." She patted Gryzzk's hand in a matronly fashion. "But thank you for asking. We'll be taking some time once we hit Terra, there's a few places we've always wanted to go."

"Do take a few stills for me." Gryzzk smiled a bit. "I have a feeling that I may be in demand, after a fashion."

There was a small amused noise with Miss Doc shaking her head. "You may want to ask Rosie for more, but it seems Miss Delia has been whipping through the social media."

"Every time I ask Rosie for unnecessary information she likes to bring me a small amount of grief in the form of the latest fanfiction." He paused. "Have you seen any of them?"

Mister Doc snorted. "For the most part they are biologically ridiculous, thematically juvenile, and serve as a vehicle for the author's personal fetishes. 'Twilight Rose and the Journey to Planet Isekawaii'? What mind writes that?"

Miss Doc flicked a bit of liquid from her tumbler at her ex-husband. "The more important question is, 'Who reads that fifteen times and rates it five wangs up?', Leonard." She smirked at his shocked expression before explaining to Gryzzk. "His tablet passphrase has been 'CrusherT'ana' since we met."

"I'll ah, leave you to it, then."

Gryzzk shook his head as he went back to the dayroom, where Gro'zel was cheerfully explaining Skyrim to Delia. Or at least her favorite parts.

"...and there's a skeleton horse too - I don't like him very much because he's made of bones but I always rescue him anyway because he's in a bad place and horses deserve to be in a pretty place." She sniffed the air a bit and turned around, running to sit on his foot. "Hi Major Papa!"

For her part, Delia was wearing dark glasses that complemented her slightly functional iridescent pencil-dress and appeared to be having a small amount of trouble breathing. Despite this, she actually seemed to be in a good mood. "Ah, Major, I'd hoped to see you here. I had a request, well..." she paused for a moment before she stumbled a bit. "Well, I mean, ah, I thought it only fair that since I was able to spend last night with your squad that you and. And."

Delia doubled over, emitting a series of petite sneezes before she stood up again. "I apologize, I am rather allergic to cats. I have some medication, but against certain breeds it isn't as effective. As I was saying, I would like to have you and Chastity come to a small gathering in Paris when we arrive on Terra."

"I suppose I would accept. What of my wife and daughter - would they be along as well?" Gryzzk noted behind him a light scent of Reilly, and wondered what she thought of this.

The idea struck Delia oddly, as if she hadn't considered it. "Well, I think...yes, that would be delight...delightf..." Delia rapidly spun, sneezing again with such force that her hip caught Gryzzk in the stomach, knocking him off-balance and sending him into the grass of the dayroom.

The scene forced a raw laugh from the younger Reilly. "Oh. My. Gawd. Frame it, frame it right freaking now, hang that in the goddamn Louvre." She sank against the wall giggling furiously. "Vilantian Minister of War? Couldn't take the Grizzly down. Hurdop Freelord? No chance in hell. Vilantian Greatlord? Pretty sure his wives do more damage. Mom's ass? The Major is flat on the mat!"

During this Gro'zel scrambled up to lay down with her head on Gryzzk's shoulder. "I don't think she meant to do that." She lowered her voice. "But it was funny."

Delia scrambled to regain herself, quickly smoothing her dress. "I...oh, my. Apologies, Major. I'll help you up?"

Gryzzk shook his head. "No, thank you. It is...I have walked a bit on Hurdop grass, but there is something unique about this blend that is pleasant."

The younger Reilly quickly scrambled to lay down next to Gro'zel, planting a quick kiss on the child's cheek before regarding her mother. "See Mom? It's not all...y'know. Business and galleries and whatnot. Sometimes it's just, touching grass."

Delia paused, before gingerly sitting down next to her daughter. "It. It doesn't feel right. The last time I sat on grass was...the day your father and I started the band." Her voice took on a detached sort of tone, and her scent was warm with memory. "We'd both grown up on Ursae Minor Platform. A scientist's dream and a child's nightmare. They had a day-care section for the children that also doubled as social science and early learning headquarters, and then in the middle of it was this...rigid park. A few tiny hills, and one oak tree. It was our favorite place to be, and we sat there until Quiet Hours when they chased us out."

"Still, it was where we wrote the one song that people liked - I'd saved enough credits to print an electro-gurdy, and taught myself to play it. A few people liked us well enough, and then we were able to purchase passage on a ship doing cargo runs between worlds. We spent the whole time in R-space playing, and then we realized we'd picked the worst spot to land - New Florence. Not because it was against music, quite the contrary. There were too many musicians, all trying to please one patron or another, and most failing miserably. We picked up Richard and Eilowen when we met at a hostel and we all smuggled ourselves to Neo-London by listing ourselves as musical instruments for shipping."

"For a year and a half, we lived on the barest necessities and spent all our credits on making ourselves appealing - we covered everything we could and then the Neofolk wave hit and suddenly there was Chardelia along with thirty other groups singing love songs with the electrogurdy, and we were the ones who rode the wave the furthest. We thought it would never end - until it did."

Reilly sat up and leaned into her mother for a moment as Delia paused, a slight tinge of fear in her voice. "I still...Jenassa, what happens if there's no more mercenary work to be had?"

There was an amused exhalation in response. "So first, bigass galaxy. As long as there's more than three people in it, someone is gonna want someone's ass kicked. Second, you remember the part where you had your kids genetically boosted? Go back and check the sheet, there's probably something about linguistic savant that you skipped over because it wasn't art. I speak seven languages - eight if you include the Fleet War Language. I'm working on Hurdop and Vilantian, but I may not be able to speak it - too many throat-rumbles and growls; also you didn't ask for super-smell, so I miss nuances."

"So you'll...translate things?"

"Yeah - and even if that doesn't work out, I'll open up a rum bar on Vilantia. I've got a good retirement portfolio, Vilantians love rum, only way I'd make more money is just straight robbing the banks."

"I don't suppose you have a name for this bar all thought out?"

"Been thinking about calling in Delia-inquents."

Delia rose, rolling her eyes. "Of course. In any event, Paris when we make Terran orbit. Please dress appropriately."

After Delia left, Reilly stood. "I think I need mac and cheese. Fair warning, Delia's going to try dressing all of us."

Kiole snorted. "I believe I can dress us all, and if the Terrans dislike my choices they may fling themselves from the nearest airlock."

Reilly leaned down and gave them all a quick nuzzle. "That's why you're Mom, Mom."

The three settled in the grass for some time and luxuriated in what was likely the best-kept lawn in the entire fleet before Gryzzk finally sat up. "The company should begin returning soon. With that, a return to duty. Speaking for myself we have about eleven hours before we are officially returned to duty, and I should like to spend them with my family."

Kiole slowly sat up herself. "Indeed. I am told that the one they call the Grizzly is a fierce authoritarian, and I should very much prefer to be at my station when we depart."

The rest of the day was spent in the commander's quarters - the one message from 7th Command that Gryzzk tried to read was immediately replaced by the image of Rosie licking the tablet screen and telling Gryzzk that work could fuck right the fuck off as the engineering squad was singing a song comparing rain or a rippling brook was a mug of beer inside a Took.

Gryzzk couldn't recall anyone from Clan Took. Or if there even was a Clan Took. Still, he could take a delicate hint in the form of his XO telling him to relax a bit, so he followed it; settling on the bed with Kiole and Gro'zel as she showed off her collection of video game horses until she finally tired for a nap.

The rest of the day was a bliss of calm scent and lounging; it seemed that Terra would bring excitement and anxiety on several levels during their scheduled three-day layover for Delia, so this brief period of calm was to be savored - even if the savoring had to be enforced at times. There was even enough time for a full night's sleep, which was fully taken advantage of.

With the company finally aboard and accounted for the next morning, Gryzzk nodded as he took his place in the command chair, nodding to the morning squad as he confirmed station readiness.

"Corporal Yomios, confirm dock clearance and orbital lane. Captain Hoban, once we clear orbit best speed to the Terran jump-point. XO, we have a message from command that needs to be read."

Rosie's form was crisp and clean - it seemed that her day with the engineering team had done her good. "Colonel says we should be expanding. We got solid profit margins, and looking at the other legions their financials are almost as good - so this little experiment's panning out. We got more jobs than ships, so the obvious answer is that we need more ships. Colonel says we're authorized to expand by four total and Captain Rostin's already shaking the bushes for a couple late-model Warfreighter class vessels that weren't cratered in the War."

Gryzzk considered during the brief pulse of inertia that marked Hoban pushing the engines from orbital exit to best speed. "Check the salvage lists for Hurdop. As I recall their number went up recently; perhaps a few of those can be purchased for the cost of towing."

There was an amused sound. "Couple of 'em looked sound enough. I'll inquire."

After that was calm routine, broken by minor course corrections and the occasional coffee break. Finally they neared their jump point, and Edwards broke the calm.

"Major, new contact, ident coming in - " there was a pause. " - squawk says it's the Unification's Fist, Hurdop registry."

"Corporal Yomios, hail them and send the standard cautions - Sergeant Major, weapons to standby, shields to seventy-five percent."

"Hail sent, no response yet." Yomios was calm, though she activated her crash harness.

"Shields up, weapons on standby." O'Brien began a fast diagnostic and started a quick tracking sequence.

Gryzzk stood up from his chair, placing his tea in a holder as he straightened his uniform tunic.

"Response coming in now."

The holo resolved to a rather severe-looking Hurdop woman. "This is Captain Waniul of the Unification's Fist. We are here to liberate Freelady Kiole and the Hurdop of the Twilight Rose from unjust bondage."

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