Vilantia, Throne City, Royal Palace

The Throne settled into a mound of pillows, reading through the missives that had been sent. There was a slight rub of their forehead, looking at far too many things for far too long. The Consorts both leaned into them, each eyeing the tablet for a moment.

"Your Lead Servant is arriving shortly." The Consort Wife's voice was soft, but her scent betrayed her anxiety.

The Throne looked sourly at the Servant's Entrance. "She never has good news."

"Her duty is to truth, not good. Do not regret your wisdom because it carries a sour odor."

At the appointed hour, a piece of the interior column and wall moved, and the robed figure prostrated herself. "My Throne. My oath to you bids me to speak to you."

"Then do so, Lead Servant."

"Three of the latest Warfreighter-class vessels of the Vilantian fleet have left the system for Draconis. Messages discovered after the fact suggest that Draconis is becoming a gathering point for both Vilantian and Hurdop who wish to work together to bring our systems to the old order."

"They are making peace, so that their descendants may go to war?"

"If I may be so bold, I do not think it is their descendants who will go to war. The children of the commons on the other hand..."

"Will most certainly do as they are told in the name of Vilantia." There was a soft sigh from the Throne as their hand unconsciously strayed to their belly.

The Lead Servant continued, her scent betraying anxiety of a sort. "The commons are restless with the House of Lords. They see certain laws passing rapidly - specifically the laws that allocate the distribution of Terran aid to the Greatclans and their favored, while the laws that would provide a formal path for commoner ascension to Freelord and subsequent Lordly titles languish in uncertainty and committee."

There was a frown before the Throne spoke to the Consort Husband. "Draft a notice for the ministers; proposed laws in committee that have been deferred more than six times without comment will be passed to their respective house for full votes. I will not have the lawmakers do nothing and claim it as victory."

The Consort Husband nodded, moving to his drafting table to work up a wording as the Lead Servant moved to the next topic.

"Something that may please you; the Ministries of Communication and Science are working in concert with the Ministry of Culture to create holoprograms that may be amusing. The first involves events surrounding the creation of a new ministry - the Ministry of Foot Transportation. There is a permanent feud with the Ministries of Vehicle Transportation and Aerial Transportation. The idea is." The Lead Servant paused for a moment. "The idea is to hold a mirror up to some of the more ridiculous facets of governance and show the government as an occasionally silly thing."

There was a faint smile from the Throne. "I suppose I'm not allowed to consult on some of the more ridiculous aspects, hmm? And the other?"

"Well, the other is something of a resurrection of the old series Black Lord A'dder, which will be called Lord Ba'ldrick." The Lead servant cleared her throat. "There's been a reversal of fortune and Lord A'dder is now the Lead Servant, but still the clever-ish schemer who is attempting to guide his Lord from the Department of Sanitary Housing and Interior Tabulation to the Ministry of Space Transportation, which is currently run by Minister A'Flashryzzk. From there, the idea would be to move up the ladder to a position within the Ministry proper."

"A rather shameless homage to Freelord Gryzzk?"

"It would appear so."

"Mmm. " The Throne considered for a moment. "Well, if you should chance to meet any others on a Warfreighter with designs on being elsewhere, remind them that while they are free to move where their heart wills their vessels are property of the Throne and the Throne will place bounties upon them, and that bounty will be doubled if the ship is returned intact."

"Will the mercenary companies be eligible?"

"I believe we will have to confirm, but yes - the pay would be for a job well done, and there is no individual contract ahead of time. We may need to have the Department of Law verify that we are within proper boundaries."

The Lead Servant stood. "I will do so. I must also advise that I will be gone for a time, my Liege."

"Gone? To where?"

"New Casablanca." There was a delicate nod to the Consort Wife. "I believe there we may find a home for a foundling. A home that has a foundation in what you seek to craft."

The Throne gave a gentle stroke to the Consort Wife's cheek. "If you find one that seems suitable, quietly invite them and their Freelord for an interview."

___________

Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose

The morning came quite early as a damnable intruder, bringing both Gryzzk and Kiole away from the warm and comfortable bed to the reality of the day. Once those were attended to, Gro'zel burst in, wearing something similar to what the herd-clans of Vilantia wore. It was almost a long coat of sorts, oddly decorated with belts and sashes, along with loose pants and simple shoes. The outfit was a simple tan color for the most part, but Gro'zel had added little splashes of purple as well as affixing her rank to one of the cross-sashes in addition to a pair of shoulder-boards that held a pair of stars and a patterned line along the edge.

"Papa! I asked Rosie for something to wear and she said this was traditional for where we're going."

"Was Rosie kind enough to find something for all of us to wear?" Kiole stretched and twisted slightly.

"Uh-huh!" Gro'zel darted out of Gryzzk's quarters, bouncing a little as she went onto the bridge.

Gryzzk glanced to the printer where two sets of clothes were being formed. They appeared similar in fashion to what Gro'zel was wearing, but there were shoulder-boards attached. Gryzzk's had a single star, while Kiole's had three blue stripes and a square knotwork flourish. Completing the outfit were large hats made of a thick fur.

Once they'd both fully dressed, they made their way to the bridge, feeling slightly awkward with the fashion but he had to admit they were quite comfortable. The bridge was staffed by both Yomios and Miroka, each doing some maintenance work on their consoles.

"Rosie, is there anything I need to be concerned about before we go?"

"Well, on top of the bounties from last night, Reilly made herself popular. Well, specifically her booty. The localgrid went nuts over her song and dance action, and ah...there's some remixes. She's going to a soundstage today to shoot a holo or five - her parents are helping with the costume design, so they'll be out of your hair - that said Reilly did give her approval for mass production of her outfit from last night. It seems that Bear Booty Shorts are going to be in fashion soon. Also there's a request from Galaxon Enterprises for a testimonial."

"Who precisely is Galaxon Enterprises?"

"They're the ones who made the stunners."

Gryzzk paused. "The ones who made the stunners that were smuggled in by criminals. The stunners that made me want to vomit. Want me to give them praise?"

"Can confirm."

"Was the individual making this inquiry of sound mind?"

"Can't confirm that."

"Very well. Inquire as to their state of mind, remind them that we have an exclusivity clause with Fostech, and politely decline."

"Tell them to take a flying fuck at a rolling donut, understood. Next, we may have a special guest when we get to Moncilat." Rosie smirked.

"You're not convincing me this is a good thing."

"Well, it seems that Diamond Shaft -" there was a brief pause for the trademark underlay of women cooing out 'SHAFT!' before Rosie continued " - has discovered a new fetish and has managed to get a week to broadcast shows from Moncilat Prime."

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"Light gods preserve us. If he asks, our Moncilat company members are not available in any sense of the word."

Yomios spoke up from her area. "Respectfully sir my dress was Veronica Purple, not Cerulean Blue. He would do well to learn the difference before going to the homeworld."

"Are you volunteering to educate him?"

There was a slight quiver from the comm station. "I'd rather not."

"I would recommend we alert Moncilat Prime before we arrive."

"We will." There was a pause. "Respectfully sir, where are you going today?"

"Lieutenant Gro'zel reports she wishes to see horses, and we have been advised to go to a place called Mongolia, where there are reports that horses may be found. This is reportedly proper clothing for the area."

Rosie chortled. "Oh, you gonna learn. Good news is that Mongolian horses are smaller than the ones you rode before."

"That sounds like bad news is coming."

"Well, if you're going to a horse ranch out there, don't ask them to choose between their horse or their wife. Nine times out of ten they'll pick the horse, and the tenth time it's because the wife is better at taking care of the horses."

"I would never ask someone to choose between anything or their wife. Such questions rapidly become awkward." Gryzzk paused, moving to his command chair and manipulating his tablet. "Corporal Miroka, if you could check out a shuttle and fly us to these coordinates please?"

Miroka pursed her lips slightly. "Certainly, but are you sure Captain Hoban wouldn't be better for this?"

"I presume you've seen the holos of our arrival in Paris?"

"Yes, they were...not what I would have done."

"Exactly. On the whole, I prefer a civilized shuttle ride over a begrudging acceptance of the laws governing flight."

There was a soft laugh as Miroka stood. "I believe I understand, sir."

The four made their way to the surface, with Miroka's piloting being an elegant counter to Hoban's preferred flying style of profanity in the face of physics. Once they landed, the shuttle lifted off and swirled for a moment - Gryzzk looked up to see Miroka accelerate and twist the shuttle in a very Hoban-like manner. It was only mildly concerning to Gryzzk as he witnessed it.

Kiole watched and shrugged at Miroka's aerial antics. "Pilots. Deep down they're all mad. The only difference is whom they choose to display their madness to."

Gro'zel in the meantime had run straight toward the paddock where the horses were sedately lined up with a simple lead connecting them all to a line that been staked into the ground. On the positive side, these horses seemed smaller and stockier than the ones in Montana. There was a second area with other horses in a pen - the second pen seemed to be for the unruly ones.

Gryzzk pause to take a few steps, getting used to the area. This place seemed as though it might have been carved from the foothills of Vilantia itself, with snow-capped mountains on the horizon complementing a brown-green windswept scrub field. The chill midmorning air brought the general scent of contentment. It was a stark contrast with Gryzzk's previous visits to Terra - if he had to select a word to describe it, the land felt humble, with tents and small pits here and there as opposed to the grandiose buildings and sorrowful memorials he'd seen. The people here were all similarly dressed as they moved about their business, with the newcomers being given more than a few cursory looks. There seemed to be two areas, one for horses and one for birds. While Gryzzk wasn't entirely certain, it seemed as though the birds were not to be part of a meal.

They were approached by a pair of individuals who were dressed similarly to them, smiling easily as one of them spoke in a voice that was a low accented rumble from a deeply lined and tanned face. The other remain a stoic tree, seeming to size them up as interlopers to be tended to politely but not with any warmth of friendship.

"Hello, Vilantians. Welcome to the Mongolia Falconry and Archery Club, I'm Morinerdene and my silent partner is Nergüi. Forgive us in advance but you three will be an object of curiosity today - we don't get many spacer folk here. The land makes them feel small. I hope you can abide Terran food and drink, we only had a very short notice of your arrival."

Kiole reached up with her hand to greet them Terran style. "Everything on Terra makes both Vilantians and Hurdop feel small." Kiole lowered her voice. "Also, please advise anyone who asks that I am from Hurdop while my husband and daughter are Vilantian. As much as our worlds are coming together, it is still a point of pride for us to be seen as our own."

"Apologies, lady Corporal - I give no slight to your homeworld. I'll ensure the camp is aware."

There was a slight disruption of sorts behind them. Gryzzk looked to see Gro'zel as she approached the fenced-in horses without any apparent fear.

"Oh...oh my." Morinerdene began moving like a Lead Servant in a panic, with long strides that seemed to eat the ground up without making it seem like he was in a blind panic.

Gryzzk and Kiole followed in a bit more of a hurry as Gro'zel gathered some grass in her hands and sniffed through the fencing at each of the horses, who were regarding the newcomer with fascination. Finally Gro'zel pointed and said something to the horse that had the oddest coloration - the dark brown at its back slowly became paler and went to a pure white at the nose, belly and feet.

A few other people had noticed and were walking cautiously toward the pen - Gryzzk caught the unguarded scent of alarm from the Terrans as Gro'zel began feeding her chosen horse bits of grass as she spoke to it calmly.

"...you smell hungry. But I bet you'd be a good horse if you got good food, right?"

Nergüi approached first, speaking in a deep rumble. "Little One, these horses are unbroken to the saddle, that one especially. You must be cautious around them."

Gro'zel looked back innocently. "So I don't need a saddle?"

"It is a risky thing." He looked at the rest of the group. "But she seems...gifted somehow."

There was a blink in reply as Gro'zel spoke. "I'm not gifted. But White Tummy's hungry." She lowered her voice as if concerned the other horses would hear her. "I think the other ones nudge him away from the good grass."

A quick discussion ensued, which ended with several waivers being signed and subsequently followed by Morinerdene taking a small whip and tapping the other horses away to another part of the pasture while Nergüi entered with Gro'zel. Gro'zel seemed far too enthused about being lifted to the horse's back, cooing and talking the whole time as she petted and nuzzled the horse on its side and fluffy mane.

Gryzzk and Kiole were both simply watching in amazement as Gro'zel seemed to tame the horse with a combination of pets and talking.

"...but we have to be careful and not go too far, or Papa and Mama Kiole might get scared, okay? and then they might not let me come play here again."

The horse looked back and apparently whinnied a soft understanding as it began to move slowly about the area and then outside to slowly graze a few feet away from the fencing and the attendant larger herd. Gro'zel wriggled a bit, softly encouraging the horse and finally the horse to began run at a slow steady trot that increased to a joyful gallop as they moved in a wide circle until they came back to Gro'zel and Kiole at a sedate pace.

Morinerdene swallowed, undisguised nervousness and relief soaking through his clothes as Gro'zel and her horse walked proudly to the camp. "Forgive me. But...your daughter. I think in the past her spirit rode with Temujin."

"Who?"

"An ancient war leader, he and his army conquered much of this continent on horseback." Morinerdene gestured. "These horses were part of demonstration of the old ways yesterday. They were part of a wild herd, we'd found a few for taming to replenish our own numbers. Your daughter tamed an unbroken stallion in minutes. Normally we ride them to exhaustion and then begin the process of training them. It normally takes hours before they're tired enough to accept the reins and saddle. But your daughter...may we?"

Gryzzk nodded and Nergüi brought a saddle kit and bridle, leaving them several feet away as the horse started to shy away from them when the Terrans strayed too close. It was curious to watch as Gro'zel talked to the horse happily about all the holos she'd watched about getting a saddle onto a horse and making sure everything was right. Her fingers fumbled around the unfamiliar straps but finally it seemed secure enough. Gro'zel was unimpressed when she was done and walked to the head of the horse, glaring up at it.

"I know you think it's funny to hold your breath but it won't be funny if I fall off. Do you want me to fall off?" Gro'zel exhaled at the horse and reached up to tap its nose gently. "I'll fall off and get hurt and be sad and then Papa'll be sad and Mama Kiole'll blame you."

White Tummy bowed its head and exhaled heavily, making Gro'zel giggle as she nuzzled the horse gently. "See? I knew it. Now hold still..." Gro'zel re-secured the straps more tightly and then reached for the bridle. "Now. We have to put this in your mouth. I know. It's gonna be ucky but I can't talk to you all the time."

There was a brief struggle before the horse accepted the bridle. During this a small crowd had formed, with Gryzzk being able to pick out the experienced from the casual at a general sniff. The ones who knew horses were watching in rapt attention as if it were something they'd never witnessed in their lives. The tourists were amused, as if this were all part of the show.

Gro'zel didn't seem to mind the attention as she patted the horse's flank a few times. "I know, but we'll be able to gallop soon. Mama Kiole and Papa are going to be getting on their horses soon and then we'll all have fun." She scrambled up the side of the horse and wriggled around in the saddle a bit to get comfortable.

Gryzzk coughed gently. "Well. I hate to impose, but...my wife and are are less familiar with horses. Some assistance would not be dismissed."

A flurry of activity ensued as Gro'zel carefully rode her horse to the line-area where the other horses had been readied. Gryzzk saw that there were also birds being prepared for the ride as well.

There was a light smile on Morinerdene's face as he spoke to Gryzzk and Kiole. "It is said that what is best in life is the open steppe, a fleet horse, falcons at your wrist. And the wind in your hair."

Nergüi scoffed from his own horse. "Wrong. What is best in life is to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women." He moved in his seat slightly and whistled in a pattern, causing one of the falcons to land on his gloved hand.

There were a few assorted chuckles as Morinerdene continued. "Nergüi spent many years in the Terran Self-Defense Force."

The rest of the afternoon was spent on the open steppe with fleet horses and the wind in their fur. Gryzzk was a bit unsettled in some ways - the Terrans were excellent with their horses, but they missed a few things due to their poor noses. Kiole and Gryzzk kept pace with Gro'zel as the rest of the group alternated walking and trotting. Occasionally they would stop and let the horses graze while some part of Mongolian culture was explained.

The falcons were an exceptional oddity to Gryzzk and Kiole. Every so often they would be loosed from their heavy leather perches and be sent to fly out and return with a small animal. It was almost comforting to see that he didn't fully understand the Terrans.

During this, Gro'zel and White Tummy seemed to be having a grand time of things as they rode around with Gro'zel chatting happily. When there were calls for volunteers to assist with falconry, Gro'zel and Kiole both volunteered.

It wasn't quite a repeat, but it was rather surprising to see both of them handle the birds with soft murmurs and feather-strokes before pulling the releases and letting the birds fly from the gloved hands of the Terrans to the general amusement of the tourists.

Gro'zel looked at her father nervously as the birds flew away.

"Papa...we're not going to eat them, are we? They seem like nice birds."

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