Vilantia Prime, Estate of Lord A'kifab

The three lords gathered in earnest conversation in the sitting room. The curtains were opened, allowing the light of the blue sun to tint everything. Lord A'kifab shook his head as Grezzk kept a watchful eye on her shoes, listening attentively for any mention of her name.

"My friends. To suggest such a thing is improper. Certainly the Throne-heir must be returned safely, and certainly in normal times, I would expect to take a place among the Great Lords, but this." He shook his head. "This was a united effort by all of us. However, if you supported me in this, I would of course return the kindness and nominate our Great Lord to serve as our Councilor. Several of the Council of Great Lords are aged and gray. Perhaps fresh voices would give us the change we need - win the war and the peace with the Hurdop." He glanced to the face of each of his fellow lords. "And of course the lands would need a new lord to guide them. I hesitate to say this, but Lead Servant Gryzzk has been by my side since I was a babe in Mothers' arms. I believe it may be his time to ascend. Quite frankly, I would prefer he remain by my side, but...he has earned his place. His wife is of the same fur, and I know they will both work to craft a fit partnership for you in my absence."

There were nods from the other two as they considered silently, taking their leave.

It took every ounce of self control Grezzk possessed to remain unmoved by her lords' words. Her hands pressed over her belly which had been stretched taut by the two within. Even now she could feel them stirring.

"Grezzk?" Her lords' voice brought her back to the here and now.

"Yes, Lord?"

"Are you well?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yes. The twins, they move about within. They seem quite eager to meet their father."

"I'm sure they are." He smiled almost apologetically. "I fear I may have spoken out of turn, but in truth, many things are happening very quickly. We have been planning this since we discovered the Throne-heir was kidnapped. It is my great fortune to have such good friends among my fellow lords, and such attentive servants."

"It is our great fortune to have such a fine lord."

"I hope that Gryzzk has watched, and counseled with you. For if all goes to plan, you will have need of each other in the coming days." There was a gentle smile on the lords' face as he went to his study and pressed a control for communication.

The Great Lord came into view, his gray fur and deep red eyes piercing.

"A'kifab, you have done well. The reports I have received indicate that these mercenaries are of quality. We expect the Throne-heir will be returned within days, if not sooner." The scent transmission indicated the his lord was pleased.

"Thank you my lord."

There was a head cock and a sniff. "Your scent wavers."

"My lord, it pleases me to do your will, but the cost will be dear."

"Weigh the cost of five lives against the cost of the many soldiers who do not return every year. And even more, the financial cost of this war - these are the decisions a Great Lord must make, daily. I trust you, because you are the only one with the teeth to make this choice. And make no mistake, you will be rewarded. Vilantia will be rewarded. In the end, that is what is of import. Console yourself with these thoughts as we prepare. You will meet Great Lady A'Kefab soon. I would have her meet a husband who takes the living god Destiny itself by the throat to do his will."

There was a raised throat, showing obeisance. "Your will is my will, I am the paw the moves at your command, my lord."

___________

Terran Mercenary Ship "Voided Warranty"

Gryzzk was back on the Glorious Purpose. Behind him was Muranagas' squad, but somehow it smelled different. It was surreal, walking the halls again. But throughout the ship he could hear something, and smell something beyond the rust and metal and ozone of a poorly maintained ship. He retraced his steps, bringing his shotgun to bear nervously. He looked down and realized that what he'd been holding had been shattered into pieces, but somehow still a solid piece. He didn't dwell on it, but he moved forward to see the Hurdop that Reilly had killed. Blood burbled from the Hurdops' throat as it sang.

"The night grows dark but the fire still warms

Tended by the Wood-Wise as is their form.

The dead gods laugh, the living gods tend

The Air-Wise makes both of them a friend."

Gryzzk almost froze at the sight, but his feet moved in spite of himself. From Engineering was a scent and a sound, and he followed it to the Hurdop he'd...he'd killed. Each of them stood, bearing their wounds as if they were still fresh - even the one he'd battered with his shotgun stood and sang headlessly, blood coming out with each syllable to spray moisture onto the deck and engine, where it started smoking acridly from the heat.

"The animals rest and the plants grow strong

Tended by the Earth-wise where they belong.

The well is full and the water runs sweet

The Water-wise walks the way with gentle feet."

Gryzzk bolted from the engine room forward to the bridge to see the legs of the commander walking toward him. The vast majority of him still decorated the bridge in gore, but he was still walking, guided by some unseen force. And welling up from the piles of matted fur and viscera was a song.

"For all my little ones on this fair night

The All-wise see the land with their far sight,

The dreamland calls for all to not be late,

Sleep now little ones to scent your fate."

The ship began to fill with blood from the wounded, from the consoles, from the walls themselves. Gryzzk ran to the cargo hold where he knew Nhoot was, her scent so strong it could almost overwhelm the blood in his nose as it filled the ship. He waded, then swam to the container where he'd found her, and he began relentlessly, furiously searching to find her. And he did find her. Holding the soft thing she'd been given, her eyes staring at nothing, drowned in blood. Gryzzk howled as the container filled, all the while the lullaby repeating itself from the dead crew as Nhoot whimpered. He couldn't breathe. He had to breathe-couldn't-

Gryzzk snapped awake with a breath. Lieutenant Muranaga placed a hand on Gryzzks chest as Nhoot was singing a lullaby through a nest of blankets that she'd made, staying close to Gryzzk and away at the same time. Muranaga was making no sense at all, until Gryzzk realized that his translator wasn't on. He secured it and Muranaga took a knee.

"Bad dream, yeah?" Muranagas' voice was soft.

Gryzzk nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. Nhoot had stopped singing and was dragging herself and her blanket-nest around Gryzzk so that he was similarly safe.

There was a sigh of sorts. "We've all been there. Combat, killing. It messes with your mind. We've got ways to deal with it. Accept it. And then learn to live with it. But for the moment, we'll get you on some medication for tonight to help you sleep a little better. You gave Nhoot a stir, I think she knew what was going on before you'd made a sound."

There was a pause. "You never been in a fight before, right?"

Gryzzk shook his head, finally whispering hoarsely. "I was in a few fights as a child, but not like this. I can...I understand why our soldiers who return never speak of it. At least, they never spoke of it to me."

Muranaga scrunched his face. "Yeah. I get that. For now...try to get some rest. Let Nhoot take care of you for bit."

Nhoot scrambled a bit, covering both of them and putting the soft thing between them. Finally after a moment she whispered "This is Miss Rhipl'i. She keeps the bad things away. The note said it was a Terran creature called a bear."

Gryzzk nodded, staring up at the ceiling and considering the implications. His body wanted to sleep, but his own mind was robbing him of rest with the thoughts of his actions the previous day and the attendant dreams. Anything he thought of that would bring him comfort was immediately struck down by thinking of the future. His wife and family, betrayed. His lord, the betrayer. Eventually the thoughts faded and his eyes closed, leaving Gryzzk to fall to rest.

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In the morning, or morning such as it was, Gryzzk was moving slowly. Every muscle and joint seemed to have an ache, and even the normal morning routine was slowed. Muranaga seemed similarly afflicted but to a lesser degree, rolling his shoulder as they ate breakfast.

After breakfast, Muranaga tapped a control, and a new person appeared.

"Medical." Unlike the other males he'd seen, this one seemed to be gray and had a small fur patch on his upper lip. Still there was an undeniable aura about him that seemed almost constant with Terrans, that these were not people to be trifled with.

Muranaga sketched a little wave. "Gonna need a house call today doc. Two Vilantians, adult male, juvenile female. Adult male went through first combat op and it mighta gone too well. Female, unknown history, but not positive. Think you can swing it?"

There was a grumble. "Be there in 10."

About 10 minutes later the door opened and the earlier face came in, introducing himself. "Doc Fellman." He had a small case and a pair of rings that smelled highly unusual - it was acrid, like a sterilizing fluid of some kind. As for the doctor himself, he smelled of rubber and hospital-scent. It was odd that hospitals had a universal scent across species. He set one ring down and then the other several feet above where it hovered, waiting. "Mister Gryzzk, if you would. Step into the ring."

Gryzzk slowly stepped in, and felt a slight chill for a few moments. His nose was assaulted as something went through him in waves, while the doctor looked at his tablet and made several noises.

"Now, walk to the desk and walk back."

Gryzzk cocked his head. "I feel normal."

The doctor snorted. "Gods you've already taught him to be a bad patient. Muranaga, this is your fault."

Muranaga gave a shoulder shrug. "C"mon, Gryz. Make the doc happy and we can get on with the day."

Gryzzk walked, while Muranaga watched placidly and Nhoot was torn between safety and watching the new thing happening. Finally the doctor grunted.

"Well, good news is nothing's physically too bad. Looks like you got a minor sprain in your knee, and some muscle damage consistent with someone who had an adrenaline dump to their system. Lieutenant, you going out tomorrow?"

"That's the plan doc."

"Alright." There was a long thought. "Medical rest. Keep the knee on ice, I'll give you some painkillers. Don't leave your bunk unless you have to. Anything else?" He dug into his case and pulled out several wrapped packages, setting them on the desk.

"His first combat was yesterday. He's gonna need a good nights' rest before tomorrow. Got anything for that?"

There was a grunt. "You're lucky." He dug into his case and retrieved a small package of tablets. "Your physiology has enough crossover with Terrans that this should work." He glanced at Muranaga. "Keep an eye on him, yeah?"

Muranaga nodded. "Now then, the younger one. Her name's Nhoot."

The Doctors' demeanor changed quite a bit once his eyes were on Nhoot. There was a tiny inhalation of sorts that Gryzzk recognized as a suppressing of the reflexive Terran response to say "Puppy". He took a knee and extracted a small package from his lab coat. "Miss Nhoot? I'm Doctor Fellman, and I'd like to take a look at you with this special window I have with me. Could you come out for a minute?"

Nhoot looked at Gryzzk, who nodded and then she approached the doctor and his equipment warily, not letting go of the soft toy. She sniffed, eyed, sniffed some more and finally crouched in the middle of the ring, looking tensed and ready to run at the first sign of anything bad happening. Which was probably a long list.

The doctor appeared to be used to having all manner of bad patients, as he remained very still, finally nodding. "All right Miss Nhoot, we're done."

Nhoot promptly went back to the bed and settled in behind Gryzzk, using him as a shield. There was more than a little concern from Muranaga, as he appeared to have a better understanding of the doctors' movements and social cues. The doctor began packing things up as he spoke.

"Well, I've got a few things. The injuries on her shoulders are permanent. Hopefully you dealt with whoever did that. Beyond that, she had a broken wrist that's healed, but right now she's got a case of malnutrition, and it looks like some kind of parasitic infection. I'll send a runner later with something that should help, mix it with her food. Other then that - long term therapeutic treatments for what ails them are outside my specialty. That said, you got today. Tomorrow's gonna be busy."

The rest of the day wasn't precisely dull, but Gryzzk and Nhoot spent most of the day reading from the ships' library - there was precious little for children, the fictions were odd, and the history portions seemed quite focused on fighting and tactical things. It seemed logical - mercenaries ran the gamut between honorable lordless warriors to bloody pirates kept in check only by their masters' orders. These Bulldogs seemed more the former. There were additional sections that seemed focused on mating, which Gryzzk studiously avoided. Given Reillys' forward questioning earlier, the wise choice was intentional ignorance. The runner eventually came by and the door slid open, with a small package making its way in before closing.

Muranaga took the package and set it on the desk, returning to his own studies. For the most part there was silence in the quarters, as Muranaga studied his tablet, sending messages now and then while Gryzzk read and dozed. For her part, Nhoot seemed completely satisfied to wrap herself up in blankets and rest on Gryzzks leg. The atmosphere seemed cozy. Almost.

Shortly after the evening meal, Muranagas' tablet chirped for attention. Muranaga looked at it, hmph'ed softly and tapped a control.

It was the entirety of the squad, eyeing the two Vilantians. Reilly in particular seemed to be entranced with Nhoots' eyes. Everyone did seem to have a cold-pack somewhere on their body. Apparently boarding and capturing a ship was no small feat.

Muranaga tapped the desk. "Alright troops. We got movie time for a double feature, and a reminder to check your gear one more time because tomorrow's probably going to be a hot drop. If you ask why, it's because we can't have nice things. Now since we have time, the entirety of recon platoon is going to be dropping simultaneously. We're all going quick and fast, so we're gonna want a nice set of master keys ready. Beyond that, clean gear and get yourselves ready. Further details coming in the morning briefing. Now, five minutes for movie selections."

The first movie was the promised Tragedy of Iosef Tarasov. Iosef seemed to be a Lords' son. Certainly he acted like one in some ways. Demanding things of other people, and becoming angered beyond reason when he was denied. However it seemed that this was where the similarity ended. In a Vilantian film, the lords' son would have gone to his Lord and then a servant would have made a fair offer - if such a thing was too dear to sell, the servant would have gone through a myriad of ideas to acquire or counterfeit the item to please the lords' son.

They did not do that here, with Iosef bringing violence to a man they called John, Johnwick, and sometimes Babayaga. It seemed that John had a wife who had died, but before that she'd given him the gift of a puppy. He and Nhoot both scrutinized the animal, seeing enough similarities that they could understand the Terran desire to label them as such. That said, Iosef seemed intent on punishing John for saying no. However, it seemed that this was an error of sorts, as John was a retired mercenary in the employ of the Lord who had taken retirement, and a great many things ensued afterward. None of them appeared pleasant, but it seemed like the Terrans were having a fine time with simply watching. It felt disjointed for him, as Vilantian theaters had always had scent dispensers to bring a greater immersion the experience. Even Nhoot was a bit confused, until Gryzzk whispered the explanation.

Nhoot looked at Muranaga, back to Gryzzk, and back again to Muranaga with a pitying expression. "They'll never know?"

There was a shrug of sorts. "They appear to have adapted to their...handicap. And they're strong in other ways that we are not. They're clever, using many things to their advantage."

The movie ended on a high note as the humans saw it - the lord Tarasov and Johnwick fighting in single combat, with Johnwick somehow winning and surviving to walk off into a mist with another dog that appeared to be some manner of orphan. It was very confusing. Johnwick was a servant, and servants never defeated their lords.

Muranaga glanced over at Gryzzk and Nhoot once everything was done with a concerned look on his face. "Everything good over there?"

They both nodded, with Gryzzk adding a 'thumbs-up' gesture he'd seen a few times.

Laroy's image snorted. "Not enough nekkid women."

Roberts' leaned over and cuffed Laroy casually. "Watch those on your own time."

Reilly was looking a bit anxious to say something, and finally popped out the question on her mind. "So what would the Vilantian film-makers do different?"

There was a pause as he thought about it. "From a technical aspect, there would be more scent-cues. No smell or even subtitled explanation makes it less real to us. The...Lord Tarasov would have sought routes to acquire what his son wanted, or left his son to his own devices. The sons' servants would have - " he paused. "Made many different efforts to protect what had been taken, as we can take but to keep it, it must be defended. But the lord and his son would not have come to any harm. I believe it would have ended amicably with the lord providing a new wife, a new conveyance, and a new pet for the Johnwick at the expense of Iosef."

Reilly, and then the rest of the squad thought about it, and then appeared to come to a realization. "Ooooh. I get it. Vilantians like...punch down, right?"

"I don't understand."

Roberts took over to explain in detail. "So what Reilly's trying to say is that for Vilantians, it's like the social order from, like lord to servant is a thing, and stuff only ever goes in that direction - mostly, and the popular stuff reflects that. For us, it's the other way around. Like reality is kinda similar, but the entertainment has it reversed, like the servant punches up to defeat the lord."

There was a nod from Gryzzk. "So it would seem, but that is odd to us."

Muranaga waved for attention. "Alright, second movie, lets' go old old school. Black and white only, go."

There were votes cast and Muranaga hmm'ed. "Alright then...I'll key it up."

The second movie was called The Seven Samurai, and it was rather fascinating. The plot was almost familiar - peasant workers beset by bandits plaguing the land. And since they couldn't fight themselves, they hired warriors to aid them. It was very different, not only from a technical aspect of the film having no color or scent, but in the plot. Gryzzk found himself fascinated by the movie - it seemed as if the director used sight and sound and movement to make up for the lack of scent. Many of the themes translated well with Gryzzk; the bold youthful one fell for one of the peasant women despite their social difference, a sullied wife who chose death rather than return to her husband, and the band of heroes created for singular purpose. It almost made up for the lack of color and scent. This almost seemed a Vilantian movie in some ways. The squad seemed pleased by the movie and all signed off shortly after, as they also had matters to attend to.

Gryzzk smiled a little in spite of his current status, with Nhoot having fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the movie. It was a good day. And gods willing tomorrow would be a very good day. He tugged the blanket over himself and Nhoot, falling to a peaceful slumber.