Vilantia Prime, Palace of the Throne

The Throne and their family were lounging on comfortable pillows with several tablets arrayed as they studied the words and scent-marks associated. While not officially part of the Great Lords council, the spouses were not merely chosen for their physical similarity and general looks. They were also well versed in helping the Throne and heir with providing a different perspective on items. That said, for the moment they were quiet, allowing the Throne and Heir to speak without interruption.

After a lengthy silence, the Throne spoke.

"My child, you are certain?"

"I am. The actions of the Terrans and of the one hired to observe – it was Terrans, but they were not from the Bravo Bulldogs clan. But, there are many Terrans with different ideals. And I was able to speak with their leader for some time. He advised that there are many mercenary companies, and at times they are willing to compromise their ideals for a large enough sum. He also advised that had they followed standard procedure, the locator beacon provided by Lord A'kifab would have begun sending a signal out well prior to my rescue, and unprecedented things would have followed. I believe his goal was to neutralize me in some way and have himself elevated to your successor. The evidence gathered is circumstantial, however it is very compelling."

"So, what exactly are we to do in this?" The question from the Throne indicated that there was an answer, but wanted to determine if the Heir had a differing opinion.

"I requested counsel on this - this Major Williams advised me of an old Terran saying. 'Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer.' I believe this reflects a desire to be aware of enemy activity. I have offered Great Lord Aa'porti a place as Minister of Trade effective with the retirement of the current Minister. Once he is a Minister, he will have the full weight of the government behind him, but he will have to cultivate an understanding with another of his Lords to work without any official documentation. And as his current favored Lord is packing for Hurdop Prime as part of the exchanges, it will take time for Aa'Porti."

"What of..." the Throne consulted a tablet, "Lord A'kifabs' neighbors?"

"Currently they are in heated negotiation on behalf of their sons. One will be the thirty-fourth Lord A'kifab, the other will be the thirty-fourth Lead Servant Gryzzk. I believe Great Lord Aa'porti designed it in this way – in line with the Old Clan Way." The Heir looked thoughtful at this.

"Aa'porti is young, with a lean and hungry look. I believe in the end he wishes to unite both of our worlds along with the Terrans, being Throne in all but name. To that end he will first place Lord A'kifab in an advantageous position, but not so much that Lord A'kifab finds his scent no longer twines with the scent of Aa'porti. Great Lord Aa'porti looks to the past and sees the future, when the wars of old swept the land and heroes were born. I believe he fancies himself a hero."

"Do you think he would...?" The Throne-heir didn't finish the question.

"I think he will try. He did already attempt to start a war between the Terrans and Hurdop. Now that war is no longer a viable option, he will have to move to an alternate plan to gain power. The trouble with the Collective is that at its head are species that live long, and think long. We do not and so I believe Lord Aa'porti will in some way craft a coalition government between us and the Hurdop unrecognized by the Collective and use that as his shield in order to attempt an attack and rule over the Terrans and thus claim their riches for himself." There was a pause. "Probably something like the Aa'porti Coalition."

"What Great Lord Aa'porti does, it risks a great deal. Admittedly this is a time of chaos, but it is a chaos of our making and it is our responsibility to guide and bring our world from the twilight to the dawn."

"It is. And so, we must cultivate allies of our own among the Terrans. Fortunately, we are well positioned for such a thing."

___________

Leaving the gymnasium, Gryzzk was deep in thought as he checked his tablet for directions to his next meeting and sent his initial personnel requests to command. The aftereffects of the previous evening appeared to have waned, mostly. As they left, Reilly and Edwards divested themselves of their cold-packs in the nearest recycling receptacle and squared to enter their ship for the refit conference. There was a steady stream of Terrans in casual wear moving in and out of the aft docking port, apparently taking measurements and scans of the ship.

Gryzzk was flanked by Reilly and Edwards as they entered the ship and went to the bridge. The scent of the ship was immediately noticeable - it seemed less ominous somehow. Perhaps a ship was defined by what it carried in some unknowable way. This thought weighed heavily on Gryzzk as he stopped just outside the bridge area to listen to a heated discussion over a model of the ship they were on. This seemed an opportune time to learn of plans.

"The connectors from engineering are junk anyway, we might as well cut 'em out and put the docking rings there." One of the engineers separated the engineering section and entered commands to show a proposed addition of shuttle docking areas and weapon blisters.

The other shook his head vigorously. "The connectors are fine, we separate the forward section and put the dock section in here just aft of the bridge. Less to do, we get the ship in service and out there fast. After the shakedown cruise, we see what's what and take it from there."

Gryzzk was contemplating the options silently, and Reilly glanced at Edwards for a bare moment before they both hit their fists into their palms once-twice-thrice and then made a hand gesture. They tried it a second time with the same result. After the third repetition of this, they both sighed, shrugged, and turned to the bridge entrance. As soon as Gryzzk passed over the threshold, they both called out "Captain on deck!"

The argument immediately silenced as Gryzzks presence was made known, both engineers glancing downward toward him. They both talked over each other as introductions were made.

"Chief Warrant Officer Olson -"

"- Chief Warrant Officer Gottli. We're having a disagreement."

Gryzzk nodded, replying dryly. "So I gathered. Expand on your quarrel." He held up a hand. "One at a time please - Officer Gollti, if you would." He glanced at the taller of the two, taking note of the hunched stature of someone who spent too many hours at a desk, slightly gray hair, and slender build. A definite contrast to Olson, who carried his athletes' physique with a manner of grace Gryzzk rarely saw.

Gottli nodded. "Well, overall this isn't a bad ship - engines and power plant are outstanding. However, it lacks certain things we prefer to have - your weapons are mostly plasma in nature, which is good but energy-intensive. As far as that goes, we're going to remove these docking areas for cargo and replace them with railguns and torpedo launchers. Additionally, we'll be removing these four aft plasma cannons here and replacing them with defensive countermeasures. We'd rather not have your engines disabled. Now for the part that's under discussion. We're going to be adding a section for shuttle docks - none of the current areas have the structural stability, so we're going to add a ring which means we cut the ship, add the ring, and re-attach. The question is where. I believe the aft section is better, as this will let us re-align power connections. However, the power grid is currently within specifications, and re-aligning the grid will take time. The faster solution as advocated by Officer Olson would be to set the ring in the forward section, as there is already a stress fracture forming. Which do you prefer?"

Gryzzk considered, before touching controls. "Place the docking rings in both sections, and place the defensive measures within them. We'll take the current midsection cargo docks and leave them as is in order to incorporate any job-specific modules we might need." The new modeled design incorporated the sleek Terran rings into the more functional and blocky aesthetic of the Vilantian design, creating a shape that overall resembled an oval with several oddly-shaped blisters.

Both engineers glanced at each other before Olson spoke. "That's going to be a very time-intensive operation."

Gryzzk looked between them. "Will either of you be eligible for assignment to my company once completed?"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

The two warrant officers shook their heads. Upon confirmation, Gryzzk began tapping the console. "With respect, I am going to be on this ship as her commander. The phrases 'connectors are junk' and 'stress fractures' are not appealing to me, as both would seem to lead to poor ends. We're going to have three different gravity standards within this ship. Vilantian standard, Terran standard, and a midpoint gravity for most of the ship. We will need optimized energy transfer for that. As far as personnel, we have sixty-six Vilantian adults currently within the stockade. Pending their choices, we can utilize them for labor. Now, I understand your concerns and the need to have this ship fully staffed and underway as quickly as possible. But if the Twilight Rose falls apart under her own power, the loss would be felt in multiple areas. Now, will there be any issues with this proposed design?"

Both engineers looked at the model for a long time before shaking their heads.

Gryzzk nodded. "Very well then. Please advise of your requirements to have this completed with the month as soon as they can be calculated." Gryzzk was inwardly thankful that the Terran evolution precluded scent as a communication, as he was inwardly racked with nervousness about his proposed design. as he looked up, he was a bit surprised to see Major Williams on the bridge, along with him was a woman who quite resembled First Sergeant Brooks – however the eye color was a hazel green and the hair a deeper red. Her clothes were a dirt-brown, and her sleeve rank was like First Sergeant Brooks' save for the diamond. His expression seemed to be approving as he set a tablet down in front of Gryzzk.

"With the Colonels' compliments, Captain Gryzzk. Your requests have been passed along and everyone selected has approved. Word's gotten around and working for you seems to be a fashionable thing. That said, you'll have about a month while we refit the ship - we're pretty much going to be tearing this thing down to the deckplate and then building her back up. Don't hesitate to add something if it's specific to Vilantia."

Gryzzk scrunched his face. "A great deal of our needs will be...reminders of home, such as it is. Food, music...even the air here is off. We'll need to work with the medical teams. You'll be meeting the rest of your command staff tomorrow. For now, Master Sergeant O'Brien has placed herself at your disposal – if you approve, her rank would transition to First Sergeant. If you'll excuse me." The major departed the bridge, leaving Gryzzk alone with his company of three.

Gryzzk studied this new Sergeant up and down carefully. Her scent was confidence and concern mixed in a whole, along with a slight underpinning that he recognized as whiskey. He considered himself for a moment.

"Permission to speak freely Captain?" Her voice had a slightly different timbre than the voice of First Sergeant Brooks, but it seemed like there was something off somehow. He'd get used to it.

"Say as you will, Master Sergeant." He was acclimating to the slight differences in rank that seemed to be the most important things in a mercenary's life as well as their naming conventions.

"My sister says you're less than a month from being a raw civvie. You've seen the elephant and smelled the smoke, sure'n that's important. I heard you handling the engineers, and you're good there. But command is a lot more than that. Frankly sir, I'm taking this job because you're gonna need a babysitter, and Aislinn - my sister - thinks I'd be the one for that. You won't be the first idiot officer I've ever served under, and I'd like to take a crack at making sure you're an idiot for as short a time as possible. Sir." Her scent grew in confidence as she kept speaking and wasn't interrupted.

Gryzzk paused for a moment. "I ah, appreciate your candor. You have a first name?"

"Aerin, sir."

"Why is your name different than First Sergeant Brooks?"

There was a blink. "Our family name's Brooks. I changed my last name when I got married."

Gryzzk paused before asking his next question. "Do you actually want this job?"

"I think it'd be a good place to walk for awhile."

"Not quite what I asked."

There was a lengthy pause as the question was reconsidered. "I'd like to a part of this, yes."

Gryzzk nodded. "Very well. Your first job is to find rank and uniform proper for a First Sergeant of the Terran Foreign Legion, then report to the gymnasium in the stockade and collect the tablets of the Vilantians there. Introduce yourself to those who have volunteered and take their scent. I look forward to your thoughts on them over lunch at my quarters. Dismissed."

O'Brien snapped, saluted, and left the ship rapidly.

Gryzzk was about to dismiss his privates to go study for their NCO Boards, whatever those were, when his rank gave a slight buzz. He tapped it gingerly.

"Captain Gryzzk here."

An unknown voice came over the other end. "Captain this is Homeplate traffic control, a Hurdop ship calling itself the Godsfang has just come out of R-space and is requesting a berth and your presence. Where should I put them?"

Gryzzk thought about it for a long moment. "Isolate them as much as possible. There could be something improper going on; despite the war being ended there were going to be lingering resentments. Has the ship been scanned?"

"No active weapons systems or explosives we could detect, sir. They'll be in Berth 9 when you're ready for them."

"Thank you." With that he cut communication and had his tablet call Grezzk as he was walking.

Her voice was calming after all the other voices of the day. "Hello, my handsome hand."

"My rose, do we have plans for lunch?"

"Not at the moment – I'm on New Casablanca. The spouses of the Bulldogs came to show me where the local markets are for foods and goods that aren't printed. It's delightful, and the children are behaving well."

"Well, we will be having a guest for lunch today – my First Sergeant, family name O'Brien. If you could, ask and find out if she has a favorite food or drink. I'd like to make her as comfortable as possible."

"Of course. I'll see you soon."

"In all my dreams, love." Gryzzk signed off with a light smile, heading for Berth 9.

They arrived at the berth to find twelve squads of six arrayed in formation, standing proudly in front of the Godsfang. Gryzzk had a flashback of sorts to earlier in the day – the ones arrayed in front of him were all old, or young, or in some way infirm - missing eyes, hands, even one with a prosthetic leg by the scent. All of them had bared shoulders with the ritual markings of the Nameless, and all had some sort of tattooing around the markings. Some were swirls, some angles, but none repeated.

"They came here in that thing? They're braver than I thought." Reilly's opinion of their ship was succinct as well as accurate. The ship seemed to be more patches than actual ship. There was scoring from plasma blasts and leaking vapors from a few places within the ship. The scent of the ship was war, and somehow there was something familiar.

Gryzzk couldn't place it, but there was a familiar scent within the ranks as he walked, taking the initial measure of this group. He had to remind himself to keep his nervousness in check as he inhaled and prepared to speak to the ones who'd fought as Vilantias' enemy for so many years. He took a breath and closed his eyes to gather himself fully.

There was a strangled cry from the second rank as one of the younger ones pulled a dagger and launched himself at Gryzzk. Edwards and Reilly both launched at the attacker in return with Reilly sliding along the deck to take the attacker off his feet and then Edwards wrapping him in a headlock and gnawing at one of the attackers' ears. Both Edwards and the one with the dagger were both growling in a manner that could only be described as feral - this was more than a barfight, and yet Edwards seemed to have control, using some form of leverage to hold the attacker down, and in those seconds Reilly was able to right herself and rejoin the fray, landing hard with a knee on the hand that still held the dagger. There was a bit of a crunch and the hand holding the dagger was forcibly released and a few seconds more before the attacker went limp, his form still breathing slowly.

Reilly and Edwards picked up the limp Hurdop and carried him to the outer airlock of the ship, and the unconscious one was replaced by a new, possibly even younger Hurdop who was searched and found to have no knives on his person before Reilly and Edwards rejoined Gryzzk at his flank. Edwards, somehow carried a scent that was familiar. He sniffed at her again, closed his eyes and thought back, remembering. Finally his eyes re-opened and he looked around the assembled.

"Is anyone here clansworn to someone who served aboard the Glorious Purpose?"

Two hands were raised in response.

Gryzzk noted them and continued, ignoring his own scent of nervousness. "Then I must tell you that myself along with Privates Reilly and Edwards to my left and right were involved in the boarding and capture of that ship. There was also a foundling named Nhoot on board that ship, and I have taken claim to her. The war is over, but it is freshly over. I will not speak ill of you if you choose to reboard the Godsfang. However, if you continue, you will meet and work with Vilantians. You will meet and work with me. After this, punishment will be meted out for any attacks."

The two appeared to be discussing among themselves, and then remained in their places.

"Very well. I presume you are all here at the behest of the Throne to join the Terran Foreign Legion?"

There were nods of assent, causing a small pit of acid to form in his midsection.

"Well enough. So, this is the process. You sign the roster, you receive a tablet. Fill out the questionnaire, and based on that we will place you properly. You will receive pay, quarters, and training. And as I told the Vilantians who are here now. You will be performing your duties with them. Your leaders will be Terrans, and I will lead them. It will be difficult. We will not simply be taking from any ship we come across. We will be operating within the rules set by our employer, whomever that may be. If you do not feel ready for this now that the moment is here, take your leave with the Godsfang. I have a feeling the Terrans may make some repairs to the ship before it is cleared for departure." Gryzzk looked around to see if anyone looked or smelled off in some way. He didn't note any odd scents, but something was not right. He felt lightheaded, and speaking more seemed to be difficult.

From the corner of her mouth, Edwards spoke. "You may want to introduce yourself at some point, sir."

Gryzzk blinked at the realization before speaking again. "Finally, I am Captain Gryzzk. If you have any questions, speak them now. I would ask that you not leave this berth until my return. If you have immediate question, hail the dockmaster and ask them to contact me."

One of the older ones stepped forward from the ranks, taking off the wrappings he had been wearing about his face.

"Do not fear, Captain Gryzzk. I have told the story of our duel, and the ones present are eager to say and do as your paw moves." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, and the rest did the same in unison.

Gryzzk paused, considering for a long moment before whispering the name.

"Pafreet."