New Casablanca, Hurantian Chophouse Restaurant

Theran and Valone walked in with a bit of uncertainty; the scents of the place were both familiar and not - seasonings from two worlds mixed and drifted, giving the place a very distinct feel. The architecture and decor was a similar mish-mash of an attempt the make two very separate cultures entwine. It was familiar enough that the pair of Hurdop were relaxed, but different enough to make them feel uneasy as they were escorted to a booth where the two women sat laughing at some shared joke.

There had been a discussion between the two that began as soon as their ship lurched into R-space; it was both meaningless and terribly important - what they were going to wear. They'd both settled on something more civil than their usual shipwear, but nothing so formal as to make their tablemates think they were attempting to curry favor or show themselves as being in a lesser position.

Both men took deep breaths for different reasons - Valone because he was looking at a potential wife, and Theran because if what Gryzzk said was true his ships would be able to more fully leave their life in the gray behind. Most officials were fairly lenient when it came to allowing passage for ships crewed by children and teens through, even if they were certain there was contraband on board. But all it would take was one inspection ship with too much time on their hands and too much adherence to the law and a great deal of their current profit margin would be missing.

The most beneficial thing about this place was that it had been built with their species in mind - the ceilings were low, and instead of booths with chairs or benches, there were simply circular table areas with thickly cushioned pillows. The two were escorted by a Terran who was short enough to be comfortable with the architecture and had an overall pleasant demeanor as he guided them toward their hosts for the evening.

A few moments later their waitress came to their table with drinks and small tablets that held both pictures and texts of the available food, with sections for Vilantian, Hurdop, Terran, and various fusions that had found favor amongst the newest residents.

Theran and Grezzk shifted closer to hear each other more clearly over the general buzz and scent of the room, while Valone and Lomeia both stared awkwardly at each other over their juice, taking tentative sniffs every so often. It was almost amusing, as if neither wanted to make the mistake that sent this whole thing into chaos and confusion.

Over three courses of food, Theran and Grezzk came to verbal agreements - items ordered by the Legion personnel would be shipped by Theran's fleet, and in exchange for the exclusivity Theran's ships would charge a favorable price for the goods. Passenger service was also discussed, with it being offered on a space-available basis and the understanding that passenger service would not be in luxury accommodations. The unspoken contingency of all these agreements was over on the other side of the table acting for all the galaxy like a pair of adolescents at the Spring Planting Festival. Grezzk finally smiled gently and nudged Lomeia to the washroom.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Theran started off. "Valone, you have thoughts?"

Valone seemed to quiver for a moment. "I was expecting a Vilantian version of Reilly. I'm not certain. Her scent is pleasing."

"Well, I suppose if you're never going to speak to her a pleasant scent is fortunate."

Velon's fur fluttered in anxiety. "I know that I should trust you, and trust that this meeting will be fruitful no matter the outcome of my own part in this. But at the same time I can't not think of what could happen, Freelord. What if this all goes wrong? What if the Year is wasted? Lomeia's heart and bed are well-tended by Reilly, what is my place in this? What if...what if it all goes to darkness and we face Svitre's fate?"

There was a soft laugh from Theran. "My friend, if we were truly to walk his path, it would have been walked by now. You are anxious because she was not what you expected, and despite that you crave her. Were this one of your typical business transactions, I think you would be more confident. It's good to be nervous, but for the sake of us all let me be the nervous one." There was a wry smile. "I'm the one who has to balance our accounts."

As the two discussed, neither noticed the figure eating alone and taking notes on a tablet.

___________

Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose

Gryzzk forced himself straight in his chair before he spoke quietly. "XO, tactical display on holo. Reilly, remind the assault personnel that alive pays more. Confirm general warnings are prepared regarding our intentions. Send them once the shuttles have breached for boarding. "

The display shifted in front of his as anything not immediately in the battle area was removed from view, leaving the two main ships and the shuttles in-transit. The next minutes were tense as the shuttles swiveled to force a seal with the other ship. As soon as the breach was reported, Reilly sent out a general warning and the sounds of fighting were heard over the comm system. At the same time she glared at her console and chirped up.

"We got comm chatter from the target; scrambled but regular intervals, looks like some kind of mayday signal."

Gryzzk gestured to her. "Understood. Edwards start looking to see if there are any unknowns vectoring toward us."

Edwards bored her eyes into her console for a moment before her fingers flew to issue commands. "Major, three unknowns approaching at high speed with weapons hot, they appear to be targeting the boarding parties. Data's cross-decked to tactical to confirm."

O'Brien flicked her eyes to her targeting scopes. "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. They used that one as a stalking goat. The party-crashers are all guns no shields - but those guns look nasty."

Gryzzk felt a stab in his torso even as he spoke. "Hoban, put us between the new ships and the fake Gyrfalcon - O'Brien, set shielding to maximum. I see three engine cones that I do not wish to see, correct that at your convenience."

Hoban swiveled and abused the flight controls to reposition the ship as quickly as possible - an act which made Rosie give a little squeak of surprise. At the same time there was a microshudder through the deckplate as O'Brien ejected three torpedoes from their launch magazine to streak toward their targets.

Things became hectic in short order as the three incoming ships began jinking and spinning to avoid the incoming torpedoes as well as returning fire. Hoban was forced to keep the Twilight Rose between the three interlopers and the fourth that was being boarded and taken. It was mostly successful as Hoban had to maneuver the ship to intercept incoming fire meant for the boarded ship a few times. The grim reality of that was that Rosie was taking damage - but at least their first target was still intact.

The ships began a twisting dance of sorts, with Gryzzk keeping abreast of the situation - mostly. O'Brien was hard at work swearing and salvoing as the attackers kept dodging just enough to throw off the targeting. Finally there was a hit scored as O'Brien sent a railgun slug that was originally meant to be amidships into the engineering section, sending one target spinning wildly into the stars.

With the odds narrowed, O'Brien began taking leisurely shots, sending another torpedo out cold and then lancing plasma into the area the moment the next ship dodged. The second ship dodged into the plasma, venting a small amount of atmosphere before the lights on the ship dimmed and failed, with it the odds shifted quite nicely.

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During all of this madness, the boarding parties seemed to be having an easy time of it - the reports coming into Gryzzk's tablet showed minimal contact, and what contact there was was brief and almost a formality prior to surrender. Gryzzk's largest problem appeared to be protecting his boarding parties from the three ships attacking.

At least for a moment. Edwards called out yet again, "Major we got another ship coming in hot and heavy, ident says it's the Falcon of Profit, Foreign Terran Legion." There was a pause. "If it's another fake, it's a good one."

Gryzzk growled softly. "Bless the gods for keeping me busy this fine day - O'Brien get a target solution on the newest problem, Reilly hail them and advise of our intentions."

Gryzzk was apparently worried about nothing, as the newest ship rapidly fired several rounds at a target that was not the Twilight Rose, stitching the last attacker's hull into a shambles of vented gas and electrical arcs. O'Brien stared at her targeting scopes for a few moments before relaxing and looking back. "Last ship has chilled their weapons, looks like they've had enough for one day."

"Good. Status of the boarding parties?"

Reilly spoke up. "Pretty good. You ain't gonna believe this, or maybe you are. Looks like their fakeout was another Hurdop Youthfleet ship. Buncha kids not having a good day." There was a momentary pause. "Maybe you can find Jojorn a boytoy among 'em, yeah?"

Gryzzk exhaled softly, ignoring the last comment. "XO, damage report. Everyone else report to the lavatory and be quick, we may be back in it shortly - O'Brien first. Reilly, hail the ship calling itself the Falcon of Profit."

The damage was present but not significant, which gave Gryzzk a moment of relief. The holo resolved to show a scarred Hurdop woman wearing a sleeveless blue and white shirt and drinking some manner of juice. While her fur was rather unkempt, it seemed that was more a function of near-exhaustion than anything else. "Freelord Gryzzk. Our thanks for the assistance. We've been chasing these ships for several hours."

Gryzzk sipped at his tea for a moment before spreading his hands genially. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, but my thanks for not shooting at us - for the moment." At the end, his voice took on a questioning tension.

There was a soft chuckle. "Apologies. Freelady Dinoae, captain of the Falcon of Profit." She paused, considering what she knew that would convince Gryzzk that ordering a railgun slug delivered to her engines was poor form. "Grezzk makes an excellent landis'og - though she has been experimenting with the Terran Ghost Pepper to make it interesting."

Gryzzk quirked an eyebrow, relaxing at the information that wasn't exactly unknown but certainly something that wasn't broadcast to everyone. "So you're aware..."

There was a nod. "There are still outposts sworn to Freelord Svitre in the system. We've blockaded the Draconis jump point, so they're trying to use guile and bravado to slip past to other destinations. This is their most recent ruse; pretending to be a Legion-aligned ship and then if the ruse is discovered the other ships destroy the pretender and exit before any real action can be taken."

"Well, I think the current situation is resolved, then." Gryzzk paused. "If I may ask, what's going to happen to them?"

"The Youthfleet members are being sent to Hurdop and held for a few months while they receive education and a current events recap. We've captured a few who thought we were still at war with Vilantia, so it's not exactly an easy thing. The adults are going to be held in-system in a penal ship until Hurdop decides if they want them or not. There's also the matter of bounties."

"I'm certain our XOs can handle equitable distribution of bounty claims."

Dinoae shook her head. "Not for them, for you."

"Wait, what?" Gryzzk gripped his teacup a little more tightly. "We've been a bit busy with our latest contract, Freelady. Enlightenment would be appreciated."

"You haven't heard? Anonymous bid from Draconis; someone's put a price on your crew. At last report it's twelve thousand credits each for non-Terran enlisted, twenty-four thousand for Terran enlisted, fifty-four thousand for officers no matter the species, and for you a hundred and twenty-thousand. Bounty doubles if they're brought to Draconis alive."

Rosie spoke up. "So how much for me?"

Dinoae looked at her tablet. "Two hundred forty thousand for the ship. Doubled if intact and flight-ready."

"Are they fuckin' smoking the Jamaican broccoli?! Fuckin' how much of devil's lettuce you gotta inhale to think that's a good idea?! Two-hundred forty?! Cheap bastards need to either stop dancin' with Mary Jane or dance a little harder."

Gryzzk looked askance at his XO. "Your bounty is twice as high as mine, and four times higher than Chief Tucker's."

"Fine, fine. Just means we're gonna have to deal with a bunch of assholes who think that's a lot of money." Rosie pouted. "Which means we're not getting much for 'em when we beat the fuck out of 'em."

Gryzzk leaned back in his chair. "Well, it's only proper to thank the messenger, even when the message isn't good news. Freelady Dinoae, I'd like invite you and your bridge squad aboard for drinks and perhaps additional information sharing that may be of use to your clan."

The shuttles returned in high spirits, with the squads laughing and gesturing at Kiole as she looked a bit embarrassed by the attention. Gryzzk frowned, but there were proprieties.

"Captain Garrett, Sergeant Wahlgren - front and center, please."

The two Terrans had stripped off their upper body armor and rapidly stepped to the fore, both standing rigidly in front of Gryzzk. They seemed to have a curious post-combat ease about them, with tension bleeding off into some sort of amusement that was almost excessive.

"At ease gentlemen, and report."

Captain Garrett moved his hands rapidly as he spoke. "Pretty much a cut-and-dried operation. Initial resistance was solid until the kids on board started hearing Corporal Kiole calling out to 'em and offering the choice of dealing with her and they'd never find their body parts or they could deal with you and they'd never stop finding body parts. I think some of the press surrounding her made it out here, on top of the Vilantian pieces that've been pushed out about you. These ships were attached to Freelord Svitre, but not too attached, know-what-I'm-saying? So as soon as they figured out that the options were to surrender to us or don't surrender and have you show up all personal-like, they decided that layin' down arms was a pretty good idea - especially after Kiole mentioned you had a shotgun with a full mag and you were already mad because this little event was going to delay our arrival at Moncilat."

Gryzzk crooked a small smile as he felt a wash of relief that everyone was unharmed. "To be fair, the Moncilat do have a particular aesthetic when it comes to arriving ships, and I have no desire to paint a picture as an apology for ordering actions that saved lives again."

Gryzzk walked back to the bridge, his fur easing back into proper form as he settled with his tea, glancing around. "I'm going to presume everyone has had time for a visit to the lavatory?" After the general nods of assent, Gryzzk continued. "Once the area is secured, we'll be having guests for brief drinks and discussion. XO, please coordinate with the mess hall for preferred refreshment."

It took a little over an hour for the militia to arrive and secure the ships; this time there was a bit more confidence in the militia, at least from what Gryzzk could discern. Finally the two mercenary ships docked and the visitors were welcomed to the conference room. It was interesting to observe - Dinoae's crew seemed a bit more lackadaisical in their dress and manner than Gryzzk, with hairstyles that seemed outlandish. Curls, colors, and styles blended and it seemed as though Dinoae was the only one who retained most of her natural fur color and pattern. U'wekrupp was designated as the server today, and set out fruit milkshakes for the visitors. It seemed that while Gryzzk had influenced the crew with his preference for tea, the Falcon of Profit had a preference for drinks that could be a meal unto themselves with flavorings of fruits. Dinoae leaned heavily toward Terran strawberries, with her scent flaring to a pure bliss with the first sip.

Gryzzk sipped his tea for a moment and allowed the conversation to flow for a moment before leaning toward Dinoae. "Freelady, I am pleased to see your success - but I will say that there are other paths to profit for those who aren't as...aggressive as we are."

With that, Gryzzk began to sketch out the particulars - with their collective sense of smell, both Hurdop and Vilantians were at an advantage of sorts when it came to animal husbandry as well as various other situations where an individual's scent was as important as any other tell.

Dinoae nodded a few times. "The lower gravity of Terra may be a benefit to those with joint issues. I'll let people know when I see them." She paused, sipping at her milkshake for a moment. "Why tell me this?"

Gryzzk sipped at his tea, looking at the two bridge squads for a moment. "I am told my name is one of ill repute among your people. News of opportunities may be looked at unfavorably if it comes from me. But from a Freelady who carved her own destiny in the stars and bade them heed her will? Hurdop may take her words with more weight."

There was a soft chuckle of sorts. "I haven't set foot on Hurdop in almost a decade. But the point is well-spoken." She seemed wistful for a moment. "I do miss Mother's food. she did things with salts and nuts that made the rations taste far better than they had any right to."

Gryzzk nodded. "The thing I miss the most - at night sometimes, when the business had to wait until morning we'd hang lamps and read in front of a great fireplace. The scent of fruitwood would last well into the next day."

Dinoae shook her head, standing. "It is difficult to see you as anything but a War-wise battlemaster in the prime of his life. We'll talk more of this later, I hope. And as soon as this job is completed, I will implore Captain Drysel to indulge my desire for a child."

Once the two ships undocked, Gryzzk settled in his chair again.

"Captain Hoban. Show me Moncilat Prime, please. We are late."

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