After the figures of the squad disappeared, Muranaga leaned back on his desk. "Whelp, it's gonna be a fun night. We're gonna kick back and relax for a bit, catch some sleep and then get the coffee going for the team tonight." He reached up above his bunk and started pulling things down – a large carafe in the shape of an hourglass, several small tablets, and a container labeled "Dread Pirate Roberts Coffee" with a Terran skull on top of two crossed bones. Below in smaller print "A better coffee is simply inconceivable!" - below that in even smaller print was a list of warnings. There were a lot of warnings. The lid was opened and Gryzzk felt overwhelmed by the intensity of whatever was in there, and highly concerned for Muranagas' well-being.

Finally Gryzzk spoke up. "er, what precisely is that?"

"Coffee. Plant that grows, produces caffeine. Wouldn't recommend it for you though – at least not until you've seen the doc and had a little screening."

"Is it bad for you?"

"Can be. For Terrans it just elevates the heart rate, makes you more alert, all that. Which we're going to need tonight. We're on boarding party duty for about 6 hours. There'll be a quick chow break about 3 hours in for everyone – but right now we're just getting ready for tonight." Muranaga looked over the setup and nodded before taking several gallons of water from the sink and setting them on his desk.

There was a nod. "Ah. We would inhale herbs that had been crushed for energy if we needed it."

Muranaga shrugged. "Takes all kinds, I guess. Hopefully you won't need it tonight. For now though...we're on a mandatory rest. Hit the rack, try to settle, and we're waking up in about 7 hours." After that he took his own advice, laying down, taking several deep breaths, and then Muranaga began a soft regular breathing pattern.

Gryzzk recognized the pattern as sleeping. Terrans. How they were able to do such things was amazing. for his own part, he was not at ease, with his thoughts clamoring to be heard all at once. At the same time. He tried focusing on an image of his wife, but the initial ease was broken by her berating him for failure, leaving her to care for their lord. As much as he couldn't be in two places once, that wasn't exactly an excuse. His lord needed him, his wife needed him, and at the same time his wife and lord needed him to be here. The thoughts kept rolling through his mind before finally he sat up to take account of his things to confirm that all was orderly.

Clanfur was present, reminding him of home. After a moment he tucked it into a pocket. Clothes were in place waiting for when he was no longer on duty. Spare translator unit was in place. The emergency beacon looked different somehow. It was normally on Lord A'kifabs' personage as part of his traveling attire. That his lord had given it to him was a deep sign of his lords' care, and yet somehow there was something of it that seemed off. Gryzzk puzzled over this before setting it aside and going through the rest of his items with care. Finally he completed his inventory, and returning to the clanfur and taking deep breaths. Wherever he was, the fur was with him – and the fur was the clan. It set his mind at ease. At least long enough for his eyes to close and then have himself shaken awake by Muranaga, who was already fully dressed in his combat armor.

"Shake a leg, Gryzzk. We got a job to do, observer." From Gryzzks' perspective, Muranaga looked like some manner of armored titan, ready and able to dispense the justice of the gods themselves should the situation call for it – despite Muranaga only being a little taller than normal.

Gryzzk swung his feet out of bed, testing the gravity again before standing fully and getting dressed slowly in the armor he'd been given. The room smelled odd, as if something fragrantly bitter had been spilled. Muranaga helped with securing a few of the fittings that weren't where he would have expected them to be. Part of him was amazed that they were able to modify the helmet cleanly to fit his head. Overall, it was comfortable and not at the same time – the displays that slowly lit up showing the time, conditions outside the armor, armor condition, and squad position were awkward to see at first. It did make sense for soldier. Which brought a question to mind.

"Lieutenant Muranaga – I am an observer, is all of this truly necessary?"

There was a nod in reply. "Yep. For your safety and ours. Don't worry. Ninety-nine times out of hundred it's just a six hour bull session with crappy midnight rations and bad coffee. Speaking of which..." Muranaga lifted a large jug that looked like some sort of crockery – it appeared to be the source of whatever Gryzzk was smelling.

Gryzzk lifted his helmet face-shield and sniffed. And it was definitely the source. On the positive side, Gryzzk seemed to have his fatigue lifted from him after 3 breaths of it. He tugged his face shield down and the hud lit up, though the time read 2155 in yellow. Muranaga touched the control to open the door, and the stepped out into the half-lit hallway to see the rest of the squad – the only differences were height, rank insignia, their nameplate, and their weapons load-out. For the first time Gryzzk was able to see a human squad in combat readiness. Despite the portrayals in popular dramas, in the flesh they seemed both less and more than what the writers of such dramas described. Muranaga was frightening enough. Gryzzk multiplied that by the other four in the squad and stopped wondering why Terrans were forbidden from declaring war or having war declared on them.

Muranaga set the jug down, and spoke softly, his voice coming in clearly through an audio speaker in the helmet. "Squad, ten-hut." He looked at all of them casually. "Sergeant, squad ready for inspection?"

"Squad is ready, sir." Roberts' name pulsed blue as he spoke.

Muranaga nodded. "Comm check. Squad sound off."

At his command each of the spoke their name in turn, and all seemed in order, as Muranaga nodded. "Observer Gryzzk, comm check. You got a name?"

Gryzzk blinked in surprise. "Er, I do. Gryzzk."

"Good enough for an observer." There was light amusement in his voice. "Sergeant, get 'em moving."

The squad made their way to the rear of the ship, where an almost inaudible hum greeted them. There was a brief moment of formality as the watch was officially exchanged, and then Muranaga got the jug in place on a shelf that appeared to have been built for the purpose. After locking it in, Muranaga flipped his visor up, and the rest of the squad did the same.

"Alright. Welcome to home for the next six hours, coffee's courtesy of the Dread Pirate Roberts, latrine hasn't moved. Who other than Reilly's got a joke?"

___________

Officer country, Muranagas quarters

Despite the fact that the halls were dark and empty, the two officers walked softly as they overrode the lock and walked in, smirking at the scent of the coffee.

"Glad at least one other officer's got their head straight. Twenty creds says if we tossed Muranagas' bunk half his storage would be his squads' favorite nibbles from home and a couple-four pints of liquor in a false bottom." Ericsson seemed to faintly approve.

"Why do you think the old man said to toss Gryzzks' stuff and not the whole room?" Sparked grinned easily, taking footage so they could put everything back as they found it. "A ventbug can't fart in this place without the Major knowing. Anyway. Looks pretty tame for the most part. No fakery in the luggage itself, inside we got clothes, sundries, and...what do we have here. A locator beacon." Sparks eyed it. "Looks like one of the old Crybaby-5 models, but this casing's a little off." After a few moments of scanning to make certain there was no switch associated with the casing, Sparks selected a tool and tapped the casing a few times before prying a section off. "I spy with my little eye, a docu-disk." The casing was replaced and the device scanned again. "Captain, we've got a problem. This crybaby's gonna nap for about another hour, and then it's gonna go off."

Ericsson tapped his rank once. "Major, Captain Ericsson, urgent - emergency locator beacon had a docu-disk hidden, and the beacon's primed to go live in an hour. Orders?"

There was only silence in reply. Long enough that Ericsson coughed. "Comm check; Major?"

A growl was the Captains' reply. "Stand by, Captain."

Sparks checked against the video to verify before putting everything back as he found it. Which was not nearly as easy as it seemed, as Gryzzk had a very odd way of packing. Finally the comm came alive again.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Captain, return those quarters to their original condition, bring the docudisk. Might be it's just some Vilantian adult entertainment."

"And the beacon?"

"Leave it. Someone set a trap for us, and I'd like to know who - that way Legal can send the bill to the right estate. This also means Sparks that you've got an hour to find out what's on that docu-disk."

Sparks nodded, moving at a double-time to his electronic nest.

___________

Aft docking hatch

The squad was, for lack of a better word, bored. Muranaga seemed content to let them be bored and sip coffee, occasionally sipping coffee in between grumbling. For his part, Gryzzk seemed fascinated by the attitude. Something like this it felt important, even at such a late hour, and yet they were treating it as an inconvenience tempered only by the fact that they were receiving extra energy once their duties were completed. It certainly didn't mesh well with the Clan-Way, where even being noticed by the lords and Great Lords was the greatest privilege. Gryzzk was certainly aware of his position, and knew that it was his greatest fortune to be where he was. While there may have been some talk among the other servants, it was only talk. Everyone knew their place and kept to it, as even in peaceful times punishments were severe - and these were not peaceful times for Vilantia.

"Incoming message." Gryzzks' faceshield slapped down a few moments after the electronic warning, and the face of the Major appeared on his visor. All of Gryzzks' eyes blinked looking at him, and he stammered a bit before speaking. "Hello, Major."

The Major seemed apologetic as he spoke. "I'm sorry to interrupt like this - I know you're still adjusting to the ship, but I've just received a priority warning from my counterparts in Alpha and Charlie companies about a Vilantian group called the Hurtian Unification League. Something about accepting the Hurdop as partners and integrating the Clan Way to their species. Would you happen to have any insight into that?"

Gryzzk furrowed his brow for what seemed an eternity. "I believe my Lord spoke with one of them once at a gathering of all the nearby lords and our Great Lord. Lord A'kifab seemed highly disappointed afterward. He commented..." Gryzzk paused for the exact words "...that the League would have us submit to their ways and be pirates and brigands."

There was a silence as the Major seemed to take it in. "Rogue faction. I think I understand. Thank you for your time." The visor rose back enough to see the visors of all the squad members also going back up.

Gryzzk blinked. "What. What happened?"

Muranaga spoke for the group. "Well, not to put to fine a point on it, but we are a recon squad, and we've been doing our job. Just from what you've told us, your planet's in a bad situation. There's generally some rationing in any war as resources are diverted, but your planet - it's as severe as I've seen lately and usually when that happens, losing's a guarantee. But the Vilantians ain't quitting. At least on the surface. That said, you can't keep this up forever. Unless there's some drastic change, Vilantia's got a year, maybe three. Neither of you are important enough to the Collective for there to be any fuss, but someone on Vilantia wants to change the game." Gryzzk sensed that all had not been told, and he was right as Muranaga continued.

"We just had our quarters inspected, and Sparks found a locator beacon. Had a compartment in it with a docudisk, laid out the whole plan - said you'd skimmed money, arranged for the Throne-Heir to be kidnapped and taken to Teegarden in order to finagle more money from your lord and his fellows, knowing that you'd be the observer and start a war between the Terrans and the Hurdop. According to the doc, you wanted Terrans to fight the Hurdop while the Collective discussed things in committee and eventually would have decided the Hurdop were the aggressors on account of this was a legal contract. Thus giving the folks at home their Throne-Heir, a reason to fight, and breathing space to fight back long enough for the Collective to drop a full sanction on the Hurdop. After that, the Hurdop worlds would be wiped from nav maps, and any ships with Hurdop registry would be shoot on sight. Unless they submitted to the full authority of a Collective member, which Vilantia is. And then it ended with sworn statements from you and your wife that Lord A'kifab didn't know any of this, and that per the Clan-Way he should be absolved of your crimes. Convenient, yeah?"

Gryzzk blinked. Blinked again. "But kidnapping the Throne-heir. Such a violation would mean terrible things. My wife, our children...we would be exiled, lost to twilight...better to have been born without life..." He sat heavily, each word a sledgehammer to his heart. Gryzzk sat, the enormity of everything causing tears to rise to his eyes and fall unnoticed to his muzzle and chin. "We will be exiled. Why? Who would this...to us?"

Muranaga spread his hands. "You did say Lord A'kifab gave you the locator beacon."

Gryzzk nodded. "Yes. I...excuse me." He went to the latrine and slammed the door shut, managing to get his helmet off before vomiting into the bowl. And after that, more tears came at the realizations that his friend since birth, his lord, the one who had chosen his mate so well that they were one scent in two bodies was the creator of all of this.

The squad was waiting for him when he exited, Muranaga with his visor down and the rest of the squad with their helmets off. Reilly and Edwards engulfed him with an embrace, while Roberts and Laroy waited. The smells were mixed and powerful, with the coffee underpinning a mix of sorrow and anger.

Once the two had stopped hugging him, he felt somehow better. Laroy had taken off his helmet and pulled a small satchel from around his neck and put it around Gryzzks'.

"Dat right there a gris-gris bag from my Grandmama Thibedeaux. She say it bring me good luck in the stars. You need good luck more than me, ami." Laroy then punched Gryzzks' shoulder gently and stepped aside, waiting for Roberts to say something. Which he did.

"Ain't a war fought that's been won by tears. Right now Gryzzk you're feeling some kinda way and I can appreciate that. But right now, LT's on the comms and that means there's a job to do coming up on us fast. And right now, you're are gonna need every scrap of who you are to kick through. Not what anybody else thinks you are. What you are. This squad'll do everything it can to keep you alive, but you're gonna have to do your share as well. Right now, we need you, and your family's gonna need you in the days coming. Understand?"

Gryzzk nodded, drawing strength from this latest in the latest turn. It seemed that the Terran Clan-Way was markedly different. The Lords' word would have been sufficient, and Gryzzks' family would have been provided the barest essentials for modesty's sake before being driven off the land with fire.

Muranagas' visor came up. "Folks, longscan shows one unknown vessel on a direct vector for us. We're the welcome wagon in about 20 minutes. Stretch, hit the latrine, then lock and load. Sergeant, make sure everyone’s sealed in. Comm check in five, Weapons check in 10." And with that his visor snapped down again.

___________

Bridge

"Lieutenant, status report." The Majors voice was calm and collected. For the moment.

Muranagas' voice came over the comm. "Well sir, Gryzzk cried and then barfed. Could be worse."

"Keep 'em ready, we got 10 minutes before this incoming ship hits comms range. We're gonna talk, but I doubt they're willing to listen. When that happens, do your job. Major Williams out."

The Major silenced the comm, looking over the bridge crew. "Alright, you know what to do, but I'mma say it any just in case. Comms, make sure the Standard Warning is prepped to send, advise we're not firing first but we will fire last. Tactical, after standard warning get a lock on their drive core. Make sure they know we can make their day a bad one. Sound General Quarters."

The ship continued on its' course, with the unknown ship coming to intercept. In contrast to the sleek lines and arrowed shape of the Terran vessel, their counterpart appeared to be cobbled together with happy thoughts and duct tape. Weapons arrays, an offset drive section, and multiple hull patches spoke of a ship that didn't have a proper repair facility. Or an improper one. But it was flying and it was most definitely armed and that made it an item worthy of consideration.

"Major, this thing's got two ident squawks on it. Could be a split-ship." The tactical officer looked concerned at the possibility of an honest brawl becoming a two-on-one.

"Confirm that – launch a drone and see if you can give me a ping from their sensors. Let's see if we can give them a ghost to chase." The Major turned slightly. "Once we've got a lock on what they're using, code up a ghost for Cereal Killer and launch."

The next few minutes were quiet until the tactical station called out. "Major, they're using a sensor suite cobbled from at least four different ship lines. It's gonna be a minute until we can get a solution."

"You've got one minute Tack. Make it count. Conn, all stop - shut down everything not life support, let's see if these boys'll give chase."

Fifty-eight seconds later the tactical officer punched a button and a new dot appeared. "Cereal Killer is away."

"And with two seconds to spare. You spoil me Tack."

Everyone on the bridge had their eyes glued to the display showing the relative position of their sensor-duplicate and the ship pursuing them. Everyone breathed a little easier when the pursuer took the bait and began chasing the duplicate at high speed.

The Major pointed a finger. "Bring us back to normal silent, lay in a pursuit course. Stay in their drive shadow and get the cold-weld docking ring and once we've made contact, we'll decide how tight the leash needs to be for the aft boarding party."

Sparky spoke up after a few minutes of pursuit. "We're being hailed. Audio only."

There was a nod from the Major, and a voice that sounded a bit like a Vilantian was heard. "Terran invader - this is the Hurdop warship Glorious Purpose. We have a targeting solution on your drive core. Cut your engines and exit the system. Any deviation from these orders will be seen as an act of war."

The Major didn't immediately reply, sending a typed query for when they would be ready to board. Satisfied with the reply, he turned his attention to the communicator. "Glorious Purpose, this is the Terran Mercenary ship Voided Warranty. We are on a legal contract - naturally I can't share the details, but the contract is valid and has been filed under standard seal. Non critical details will be made available two standard weeks after completion. If fired upon, we are authorized to take any and all measures to defend ourselves." There was a small green light on the Majors' screen, signaling that they'd matched docking bays and were ready to board at his nod.

There was a growl from the speakers. "There will be no two weeks, you and your ship will die now." There was a blip to indicate the comms had been cut and a pair of missiles ejected from the Glorious Purpose, streaking toward the decoy.

The Major nodded. "That counts according to Legal." He tapped a control. "Aft boarding party, good hunting."