Homeplate, 7th Space Cavalry Legal Office

The office was well-lit, with three older Terrans in the traditional uniform of the legal profession - charcoal-gray suits, bright white shirts, and a dark blue tie. The three were looking at the holoscreens of three other individuals; small nameplates over each of them identified the Throne of both Vilantia and Hurdop as well as a representative of the Collective Interplanetary Diplomatic Corps. The Collective Diplomatic Adjutant was speaking in a flat monotone - a result of the translator dealing with a crustacean species.

"...This is a most unusual request, and the Diplomatic Corps will require extensive time to ensure the agreement is fair to all sides." The representative was moving slowly through the documents.

The lead lawyer for the Terrans then spoke. "We do understand the nature of the request. Due to the exceptional nature of the current situation and to avoid the impending economic and social upset that the Councils' own predictive models have shown to have a 95% chance of coming to pass, my clients would like to jointly invoke Amendment 8, Article 5, Section A, Paragraph 8, clause B of the Collective Interplanetary Governance Charter which states that third party arbitration can be agreed upon and acted upon as if it were a binding ruling of the Collective Interplanetary Governance Council."

A full hour and a half passed while the Adjutant perused and considered the relevant clause. "This is acceptable. We will await your treaty document, and it will be enforced as a binding ruling, pending approval. Any amendments the Council submits must be countered or accepted within one standard year."

The Terrans nodded, and the Hurdop and Vilantian representatives lifted their heads slightly to show agreement. "Our thanks, Adjutant."

Another thirty minutes passed before the adjutant spoke again. "The hearing is now adjourned." And a few minutes later the Adjutant closed the transmission.

The Terran leader seemed unfazed by the glacial pace of the adjutant. "Now then, Thrones – you have the documents in front of you, and we will reconvene in a week. If you or your Councilors have questions in the interim feel free to inquire with us directly."

___________

Terran Mercenary Ship "Voided Warranty"

Cryzzk and Muranaga walked to their quarters, with Hoot looking at the ship interior with wide eyes. Ensign Stabby trundled slowly down the hall with Jones proudly riding on top, as they were the masters of the ship, no matter what it said on the organizational structure. Hoots' eyes went wide as she hopped up and down and pointed.

"Papa-Gryzzk. What!?"

Gryzzk looked carefully. "That is a Jones and a Stabby. They are here to make the crew happy."

"Very important?"

"Very important." Gryzzk nodded solemnly.

Nhoot had a look of entrancement on her face as the pair approached slowly, sniffing the air slowly and deeply. When they were close enough, Jonesy sniffed back, finally inspecting and rubbing against Nhoot in order to claim Nhoot in some feline way. Gryzzk was also inspected and given some stamp of approval as Jonesy trotted off to resume patrolling with Stabby.

"They smell funny. But I like Jonesy."

Gryzzk chuckled. "They seem to like you. I think." They continued along and finally got the door opened to Muranagas' room.

Inside was a slightly different scene, as someone had been busy with whatever printer it was that made the uniforms. Several uniforms were present for Gryzzk with the Terran Foreign Legion logo in various styles and colors. A note said "pick one ship-wear, one physical training, and one combat." Someone had done some work behind the scenes, as the clothing looked very close to Vilantian military wear, but with what would appeared to be Terran additions. The ship pants had multiple pockets and inserts for situations where the full armor was impractical. The physical training wear was gray and made of a highly breathable cloth. All of the uniforms had small attachment points for rank insignia and a print of his name. As he looked, he realized that most people on the ship mixed their pants and shirts depending on what was probably personal preference.

Muranaga nodded as Gryzzk selected the ones he preferred and sent the others to be recycled. He then tried them on and found that they were almost tailor-made for him. Apparently the data from the medical scan included clothing information.

Muranaga pointed to the chow printer. "If you need extras, you can use the chow printer to make a new shirt – Foreign Legion Two. It can print most things, but about ninety percent of what the grunts use it for is food. No booze or drugs."

There was a long pause while Gryzzk smoothed his shirt. "Can it reproduce seasonings?"

"What, like food? Yeah. Just gotta have a sample for it to copy."

Gryzzk quickly went into his luggage and retrieved his small spice box that he had brought with him and began working the controls. After a few minutes, the system requested he clear the area. A short time after that the seasonings he'd placed in were reproduced with near perfection. It was amazing – things that took weeks to harvest and prepare were ready in very short order. He sniffed and had mixed feelings. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't too far off. It seemed to be useful to a point.

Muranaga smirked. "It's decent, but not perfect. That's the other reason we mostly hit the chow hall - Cookie does it better. Anyway, get your rank on, we gotta head to the officers' meeting. Also, your rank doubles as a comlink, so if you feel it buzz you've got a message coming about a second later."

Gryzzk nodded as he made the proper attachment to his t-shirt, and they headed to the bridge. As they entered, he looked around for the proper conference area and entered.

The area was a bit crowded as the meeting included every officer on the ship. Most of them Gryzzk hadn't met, however it seemed he was easily recognized, and it was only partially because he was in a purple outfit. At the head of the table was the Major, looking fairly pleased. There was a spontaneous measure of clapping that the Major allowed for several minutes.

Finally with a rap on the table, Major Williams got the attention of the officers. "Alright. We have two orders of business. First is that we've got an angel on our shoulder because we've got a list of all the ships that departed port with a potential of having Captain Gryzzks' wife and child. Alpha Company will be accompanying us to one, and Charlie and Delta will be taking the other. What we're looking for is a female Vilantian, about a meter and a half tall, late stages of pregnancy. If she's not on those ships, our next location is going to be Ricks'. Not a social call. The thing going against us is that we are probably in a race. First Sergeant Brooks, bless her heart, probably earned us a solid enemy back on Vilantia. Not to say the sunnovabitch didn't have it coming, but he's gonna have blood in his eye as soon as he can walk without an icepack on his cojones." There was a pause. "To answer the question I know you're all dying to ask, we do not have stills of the event. That said there will be an optional viewing of the shuttles' external feeds immediately after this meeting. Now to item two on the agenda. As you've noticed, we have a new officer on board; Brevet Captain Gryzzk. We're spinning up a new company; our current recruiting targets are Vilantians and Hurdop - the initial table of organization calls for twenty-five percent Terran personnel, and then of the rest I want to try for a 50/50 split. There's gonna be enough problems at the outset - the expectation from each of you is to assist Captain Gryzzk as much as you can. Captain Gryzzk's gonna raid your teams, but don't get boo-boo faced. If we get the full go, he's gonna be taking from all the Companies to form this up. What that means for you is if you meet a Vilantian or a Hurdop, ask 'em if they've got a job. If they don't, set up an appointment with the captain. If they do, hard sell and set it up. We got a lot of empty files and a lot of jobs. I want this to go well, because if it does, we got a hell of a leg up on every other merc company that's looking to expand the ops sphere. And if this works, everyone gets a bank account that's nice and fat. Any questions?"

One of the other captains flicked a finger up. "So yeah, we know what they look like, same pitch for both?"

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Major Williams shook his head. "Negative. The Hurdop have been pretty heavily into piracy - give 'em the pitch you'd give a pirate or other thief. Vilantians are proud, lean into that. Hint that the Hurdop could be better off, that kinda jazz." Major Williams looked around. "Sparks, before we hit R-space see if you can pull the feeds of the Throne-Heir coming out of our shuttle. We'll get some nice ad copy from those. Now, of there are no other questions?"

There were none, and with that the room dimmed slightly and a very high-resolution video began to play. It started with Gryzzk talking to Lord A'Kifab, and then there was a quick pan and zoom to the Great Lord snarling and then contorting with an expression of shock and finally an exquisite expression of pain. Gryzzk found a smile on his face in spite of himself as his....his fellow officers were reacting with enthusiasm at the video.

"Sparks, Sparks, back it up and slow it down. Wait. Back a touch. Right there – That's it! You can see the exact moment his soul does a peace-out. Major, can we use this for recruitment stuff?"

The major shook his head. "Nope. But we can keep it for the winter party – Tops' best shots. Dismissed, we're hitting R-space in thirty minutes. Captain Gryzzk, with me for a minute."

Gryzzk followed the Major to his office, taking a seat. For a moment, the Major seemed almost mortal as he sat heavily in his chair.

"Gryzzk, we're putting a lot on the line to get this company going. Not just financially, though that is a tidy sum. We've got a reputation for folks looking to hire mercenaries. That we're effective. The four companies under the banner of the 7th Cav have a ninety-five percent success rate. Job gets done within the parameters. My officers know that. That's how we operate. Once our current job's done, we're gonna be standing down at Homeplate for about 3 weeks while we get the ship back to full spec and ready. Use that time to get your ship and company assembled. If my guess is right, we're going to have a lot of folks knocking as soon as the light turns green. You're going to have to pick 'em, rank 'em, and train 'em. After that, we'll get it rolling and find a few milk runs for us to do. Pay won't be great unless the unexpected happens - but you'll at least be breaking even. That said, after a couple of those, you build your rep and you'll be able to pick better jobs, which is gonna be just you and your Legion. Stay focused, stay alive, and we'll be retiring to wherever your heart might desire before you know it so you can live the merc's' dream of dying quietly on a bed made of credits. If you have questions now or later, tap your rank twice. That'll open a channel to me."

Gryzzk cocked his head "Twice?"

The major nodded. "Yeah. In ancient times when the gods were considered a huge part of daily life, some Terran civilizations believed that tapping the ground twice would summon the god of death. We're a long way from anything close to ground, so the tradition was adapted."

There was a slight lurch from the ship as it went to R-space. Gryzzk stood up. "With permission, I'd like to attend to Nhoot for the moment."

Major Williams pointed to the door. "Have at it Captain."

Gryzzk headed back to Muranagas' quarters, and found Nhoot with several food trays scattered around her in a nest made of Legion t-shirts as she was sleeping off what appeared to be a heavy meal. Muranaga put a finger to his lips.

"She figured out the chow printer and went to town. According to the print job records, she likes turkey and mashed potatoes. And she also likes your shirt."

Gryzzk sat down, smiling at a memory. "Once, when Gro'zel was younger, one of the cooks gave her a jelly cookie from the pantry. As soon as the pantry was clear, she went in and got into the cookies. We were all quite worried for a time because we couldn't find her, and after searching for a time that felt like hours, we found her asleep on the pantry floor. The kitchen was a fright as she'd run inside, outside, and then she became tired and went back to the pantry to refuel. But she didn't quite make it to the cookies." Gryzzks smile faded as the happy memory became tainted with the reality that there would be no similar activities in the future.

Muranaga watched the emotional interplay on Gryzzks face for a few moments. "It's like that all over. Even across species. Good times get mixed with bad. Eventually one of them wins, y'know?" There was a small exhalation at something - possibly a memory of Muranagas' own childhood. "Anyway, we'll be in transit for a few hours and I dunno about you but ship life always hoses my internal clock. Even on homeplate there's a sense of a day-night cycle that the ship doesn't have. And we're in R-space to boot, so...I'mma take a nap."

As Gryzzk thought, it seemed like a nap was a fine idea. They'd been doing the impossible on minimal sleep for a few days, and given they were en route to their next problem to solve, there wasn't much they could do for the moment. But first, he had to start looking over rosters to see if he could start assigning personnel. He checked his new tablet and checked his roster. 5 combat squads, 5 support squads. He was going to need a ship for at least 50 troops, and then the logistics to keep them fed and armed, trained, and tactically set. The more he thought on it, the more this felt oddly familiar. The Lords' home staff was double this, as he thought about it. Everyone had a role, and his job was to find the best fits for each role. And all he really had at the moment was personnel files. He did have time, and started looking over the files to start making preliminary requests for more information. For the moment, he was going to keep the Terrans in support roles as much as possible – if this was in fact to be a Foreign Legion of mercenaries, it wouldn't do to have Terrans being the first ones seen. After that, more thoughts began intruding, and he realized he was going to have problems keeping three - two, he mentally corrected himself for the first time - but he had to keep them all at least slightly content. Gryzzk rubbed the bridge of his nose and started looking at the rosters with eyes that were growing heavier, but he forced himself to focus. That didn't quite work, and soon Gryzzk found himself sleeping over his tablet.

Gryzzk was startled to wakefulness by his tablet chiming. "Captain Gryzzk to the bridge" was on the audio and message comm. He tapped his rank to reply "On my way" and checked to make sure he was at least presentable. Nhoot was still sleeping soundly. He considered and after a moments' debate he put his beret on and snugged it evenly as he'd been taught before exiting and jogging to the bridge.

The Major and bridge staff were waiting. The Major spoke quickly. "Captain, we're coming up on our target and we'll be in short range comms soon. The Overdraft Fee is alongside us in our sensor shadow. Initial scans show an excessive radiant signature for a ship that size – probably the engines, we're not close enough to get fine resolution. This is your party now, captain. What are your orders?"

Gryzzk blinked for a moment, and then realization came to him. This was his first test as a commander. He was silent for a long time, remembering previous events in his life where he'd had to delicately maneuver recalcitrant guests to do what his lord wished.

"Prepare the boarding parties and make sure they are equipped for non-lethal. It's possible Grezzk is not the only Nameless among the crew. If we do have to board, we'll need to disable their engines. Advise the Overdraft Fee to attack the engines from above, then maneuver its boarding parties to attack similarly." He paused. "We didn't have flight for a great part of our history, and we don't really look up for danger. It's possible that boarding from above relative to the ship will confuse and allow a greater surprise." he paused before continuing "I don't want to be too obvious, so the attack signal will be the phrase 'I will see you in the twilight.' It's a bit of an insult. But before we do all that, I'd rather talk to them. They may be willing to bargain, particularly if they're a merchant vessel - that said, if they're carrying my family, they may not be entirely honest."

There was a nod from the Major. "Overdraft Fee, you get all that?"

A voice responded. "Affirmative Major. Solid plan."

Sparks interrupted the conversation. "We're in close comms range, one minute to fine scan."

Gryzzk nodded, looking at the panel in front of him to open a channel to the ship. "Fore and aft boarding parties, this is Captain Gryzzk. Prepare to board, but if you do have to board, do not kill. Use those foul-gas grenades wherever possible."

After receiving affirmatives from the boarding parties, Gryzzk squared himself. "Lieutenant Sparks, when we're in close scan range, send the data to my console please. Hail them."

The comm display showed a message that it was sending the request. It was an eternity of moments before there was a response in the form of the ships' captain.

"This is Captain Kotria of the Vilantian Warfreighter Hidepiercer. You are interrupting a supply run of critical importance to our war effort. Explain yourself."

Gryzzk brought himself up, thinking of this as dealing with an equal who would see reason. "This is Captain Gryzzk of the Terran Foreign Legion aboard the mercenary ship Voided Warranty. We have reason to believe that your ship is harboring a Nameless. If you would, transmit your ships' personnel and passenger manifest."

There was a snort. "Why should I do such a thing for someone who wears the colors of twilight?"

Gryzzk looked downward. In addition to being a gesture of authority, it allowed him to look down at the scan results. Gryzzk was surprised by the number of life-signs captured by the scanner as well as certain other readings. There was a pause as he sent a request to scan for specific items if possible before he replied.

"I implore you, Captain. Look at the bridge. Terrans. Terrans on a job for which they have been hired. You are aware, I hope, of the reputation they carry. If you run, you will simply die exhausted. You have an opportunity to avoid such needless tragedy. If your fur is clean, you have my apologies and thanks for doing your part in the war effort, and we will continue to our next target. Make your choice, captain, but make it rapidly – the Terrans are paid by the hour." He glanced down and saw that his query had been responded to in the affirmative.

Captain Kotria snorted. "There is no choice. We will not be delayed. Make all the empty threats you will - " the captain was interrupted by a voice. Female, Vilantian, and one he knew all too well.

"Gryzzk! The twilight rose blooms -" and the voice was cut off with a solid thunk.

Gryzzks voice took on an edge that even he didn't know it had. Six eyes locked on the figure before him. "Captain Kotria. That voice belongs to the one we are searching for. Cut your engines immediately and prepare to receive visitors."

There was a curled lip in response. "We will not."

Gryzzks voice was nothing less than the ice of space itself. "Then I will see you in the twilight, captain." And with that he cut the communication channel.