Stepping off of the Dauntless and on to an alien world in street clothes was... something else. Sure Jerry had been off the ship before, but not as a tourist. He'd been deploying from a drop ship or undercover air car to rescue Dauntless personnel in contact, make an attack at the behest of Intel, or a host of other missions that got a call for the special forces personnel first and foremost.

Even the regular troops on the Dauntless were damn good, their training, training Jerry and the other commandos had helped devise, had seen to that, but sometimes you needed to send the very best.

Each man and Isabella were openly wearing their kukri fighting knives, something Jerry suspected would get them some interesting looks from some of the species he'd been reading up on. For example, a man openly bearing a bladed weapon would likely appeal to the Yauya, a race of arboreal hunters with an uncanny resemblance to a certain Predator that had a love of stealth, famous galaxy wide for their wrist blades, just as one example.

However, he and Sir David, along with their lead NCOs agreed that it was better to have one weapon out in the open, to better distract from the concealed weapons they were all carrying, and to clearly mark them out as a group. Clearly identifiable packs or groups would likely scare off some potential predators was the hope. Just because the galaxy had robust self defense laws didn't mean either man was eager for their troops to use them. They came in peace after all, and had been received... warmly, if not enthusiastically, so using force where it wasn't needed just seemed like... overkill.

Thankfully the dock yard the Dauntless was resting at had become used to humans moving about. More than a few engineers quickly securing human husbands as mechanically inclined young men went on liberty certainly didn't hurt in calming the local area down significantly when a group of men was sighted.

No stampedes, no immediate crowds.

The spire's police force and covert Dauntless security troops kept the mob away, and the guards at the entry points handled more direct security risks like the tiny Reptilian Cloaken, lizard women who could be straight invisible in addition to other tricks. The special forces teams had quickly made a game of figuring out just how far one of the diminutive spies could be shot putted, a sport which the Cloaken didn't seem to mind, and the general infantry had readily embraced.

"Alright folks, on the bus! Let's get to recreating!"

The commandos all pile into a public air bus heading to a plaza on the next spire over and are just barely in their seats by the time the bus is visibly accelerating to supersonic speeds.

Compulsively, Jerry checks his communicator. He was waiting for a message from a man on the nerd squad, a crew of young men who were... well. Socially maladjusted would be the formal way to put it. Or they had been. Sir Philip, the head of the Dauntless's intelligence service, and a legend among men and women in intel or black ops, had spent much of the trip turning them into proper gentlemen. Somehow. Black magic probably, no axiom required.

He'd commissioned a very delicate favor from this particular nerd, to move data from a solid state, near bomb proof human drive to something with galactically compatible storage and a built in holo display that he'd 'borrowed' on a previous mission. It was critical that the two systems never be connected to the Dauntless's information net, or have remote access enabled. He'd been cautious about his treasure before, but after every single piece of electronic information the entire Dauntless had been completely and utterly compromised before they'd even landed on Centris in "The Hack'... he felt his paranoia was justified.

The material on that hard drive was far too precious to allow it to just proliferate on the net. It would hopefully make him some tidy retirement money... but more importantly, it would staunch what would eventually be a gaping wound in not just humanity among the stars... but was already an ache he felt in his own heart.

The mission was still clear in his mind. The promise he'd made himself when his loyal dog Togo had breathed his last. Togo's daughter would live if the galaxy had the technology to allow it, and he would bring humanity's beloved companions and a taste of home back to them if their one way trip proved to be one way for good reasons instead of ill.

So today he would begin scouting for a partner to actually perform this task. Just browsing the galactic equivalent of the yellow pages and yelp, and getting a feel for the unending cityscape of Centris if he couldn't find a more direct opportunity. He'd confirmed the technology to complete his plan existed. Now he just needed to find the right partner to work with to make his dream a reality.

Next time he ventured out, it would be game time.

As they file off the bus, Isabella and Johnny D. pop up by his right side.

"Penny for your thoughts, skipper?"

"I'm not your skipper any more, last I checked Isabella, just your boss."

"You're always my skipper, sir."

Jerry chuckles.

"Just thinking about things. That's all. There's just... a lot to take in out here."

Isabella looks around, clearly taking in the sprawling plaza.

It was filled with people that, to a human eye, looked to be fairly well off on average. Lots of expensive looking jewelry was in evidence, and the open wearing of weapons didn’t appear to be nearly as common as Jerry had seen further down the spire on missions.

That the entire local landscape was nothing but women as far as the eye can see… and handsomely so, was another factor entirely. With galactic fashion sense being completely out of whack to Earth norms, and seemingly not having a standard as far as how much skin was fit to show in polite society, there was a lot to look at for an interested individual.

Curves of indescribable bounty attached to gorgeous women of configurations ranging from the familiar, such a the near human Tret and Rabbis, to the enticingly exotic such as the occasional Feli, Lopen or the minotaur-like Agela, bull women with large horns and mostly human bodies and faces, who could rival Cannidor for the sheer scale of them, to the downright weird such as the bat-like Sonir.

An Archna passes by providing the perfect cap for the weird category in Jerry’s book as he suppresses an arachnophobic shiver.

Ramos snorts with irritation as her male counterparts visibly ‘scout out the local scenery’.

"It's damn weird being the only chick who doesn't have twenty kilos of titty and ass walking around I'll tell you the fuck what. That said, it’d be a lot less aggravating if you boys could put your damn eyes back into your skulls."

Johnny nods, pointedly keeping his eyes pointed more or less at Isabella.

"No, what's weird is that you're now the most envied woman in this plaza. You're walking around with more men than anyone in the area has ever seen in their lives combined never mind at once. Unless other R&R groups from the Dauntless have come through and they've been on hand."

"Huh. Good point. Does that make you boys my harem? Except you sir, of course."

The playful tone in Isabella's voice was something very few people got to hear. Jerry had been mentoring the couple since they were both wet behind the ears lance corporals, so there was a degree of familiarity between the officer and two non-coms that simply wouldn't fly without having worked together for a very long time.

"Not to be a stick in the mud, but careful who you say that in earshot of, we might get some sort of religious crusade called down to liberate us from the wicked woman who's somehow enslaved us all."

A quick wander around the plaza reveals all manner of stores and shops, with what had to be commonplace items in the galaxy, but everything was exciting and new for the humans. Getting upgraded communicators was a must.

They'd need to install mandatory software updates, but as soon as they found out some of the absolutely wild features that anything beyond what the Dauntless had bulk purchased for human personnel, including map navigation in 3D, and interstellar calling, while also being near bomb proof? They were just about throwing their credit disks at the store clerk.

It didn't hurt that 'phone plans' weren't really a thing so far as anyone could tell them.

One of the benefits of near unlimited energy, and communication being a basic sapient right per the Galactic Council.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

The only time communicator calls really started to cost anything was high data transmissions over vast interstellar distances, and that could easily be limited by sticking to voice or flat transmission instead of calling in full holo.

They bounced around the plaza after that, attracting attention certainly, but no trouble. Their first impression had been correct, this was clearly a more well heeled area. So if there were any would be toughs observing them in a negative way, they didn't see them. The closest they got were a couple of groups of bodyguards.

Four Horchka were escorting a business woman of some stature, one of the Preying Mantis like Snict.

The Horchka, Jerry suspected, might end up rather popular with humans despite their propensity to end up in gray, if not black parts of the galactic economy. With their muscular, powerful builds and big tusks and skin ranging from green to gray, they were straight out of some media's interpretations of orcs.

They didn't lack confidence either, one of the women shot Jerry a wink as they walked by when her boss wasn't looking.

The other two bodyguards were a pair of Cannidor, not in their power armor today it seemed.

The massive shark-like aliens towered over the proceedings, escorting what appeared to be an alien noblewoman from the sheer glitz of her presentation... and the reason for their presence. Her infant son, out for a stroll with Momma and what were, most likely not her bodyguards, but his. A stark reminder of just how at risk even an infant could be from certain malefactors when hiring hulking Cannidor bodyguards for a baby seemed like the obvious thing to do for those with the money to do so.

The infant boy was the only non-human male they saw all day. Women everywhere in every possible configuration and size. All going about their days normally... until seeing the small group of humans anyway.

The area did prove to be well mannered though. They only got a few rare cat calls, some admirers from afar and the occasional polite proposition... and in some of the men's cases, discreetly exchanged phone numbers as many of the women who had approached them had to be on their way back to work. The down side of tourism during the work day.

Still with all the looking around, it had to happen eventually, one of his men made eye contact with a blonde Rabbis girl in could generously be described clothes, some gauzy material loosely arranged in what could be considering a top and skirt, 'concealing' what appeared to be a micro bikini that would have gotten her asked to leave the beach in Brazil. Mixed with the neck breaking curves that galactic women carried as a matter of course, well. Jerry could at least understand why the beyond busty blonde had his commando's full and undivided attention in the physical sense at least.

From what Jerry knew of the man, she was perfectly in his strike zone. All the more so considering her alien features, her long velvet covered ears, and the cute little cotton tail poking out over the top of her... sarong? Whatever it was, it made her look like a playboy bunny in the flesh. Albeit Hef had never had a playboy bunny that was stacked or built quite like she was. Nor had any playboy playmate Jerry had seen had four arms.

The lovely blonde alien flexes a bit, showing off a whole lot of lithe, athletic muscle covered in smooth, healthy pale skin to her appreciative audience as the commando gets closer, doing his best to not drag his tongue on the ground.

"Excuse me miss, I need to ask you, and it'll break my heart if the answer is no, but are you single? Because you are quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen by at least an order of magnitude and I would have to slap myself if I didn't talk to you."

The Rabbis lifts an eyebrow, her smile warm and clearly able to put a shiver in the man's spine.

"Well aren't you up front for a Tret?"

"Human, ma'am, I'm human."

"Oooh! From that ship huh? Well you do look pretty damn well put together. I heard on the news you boys were built differently than many of the men in the galaxy, but my oh my."

The Rabbis gives him an appreciative look up and down before glancing over at Jerry and the rest of the commandos..

"...And I suppose you do have all your friends over there which certainly convinces me that you're human, unless this is some weird hidden camera show. So, what can little ol me do for little ol you?"

"...Honestly if I said what I was actually thinking right now, I'm pretty sure my friends would hog tie me and drag me back to the Dauntless, so instead I'll just settle for asking you out."

"Sounds stellar! I'm Miren. I've heard you humans can be a bit slow on courtship, so if you want to sprint for the altar or take it slow honey bunny, I'm all yours till we decide if we're compatible or not."

The commando beams, clearly pleased with his success, but then his brain catches up with the rest of him and the rest of the team watches as he suddenly holds up short.

"...Wait, wait it can't really be this easy."

Miren chuckles, reaching over and gently stroking his cheek.

"Why not? This is Centris, one of the busiest planets in the galaxy, you have to move fast to grab an opportunity when it presents itself to you and honey you're a downright scrumptious opportunity."

"...Okay. Look I'm totally on board assuming my buddies don't bust my head and you're not mind controlling me..."

"She's certainly controlling one of your heads, horn dog."

Isabella snarks, rolling her eyes... and stepping just a little closer to Johnny when she thought no one was looking, clearly out to stake her claim, even if the regs would technically still be iffy on the subject.

The commando fires back an insult in rapid fire Spanish, too fast for Jerry to catch, but his eyes stay on the prize, the fair lady Miren.

"So... I have to ask, why the outfit? Like are you going to a club or something?"

"Hmm? Oh, I had a day off and I just felt like dressing up today! A lot of clothing tends towards emphasizing the feminine assets, in two schools of thought generally. Either you go skimpy, which I tend to prefer. I like breezy clothing and I dunno. It just makes me feel confident. Or you go with more coverage but use things like a corset to emphasize things appropriately. Some cultures and species go harder on the coverage. The Apuk wear these really pretty gowns that range from about normal for the more coverage end of the spectrum, you know decent cleavage, a respectable slit to mid thigh in the dress that sort of thing, to being covered from throat to feet."

"...And everyone's just cool with that?"

"I mean yeah? It's normal. Why? Are humans super prudish? I can go put something a bit less skimpy on if it'll make you happy, handsome."

The commando takes an obvious moment to clasp his hands and thank whatever god will listen to him before taking Miren's hand and kissing the back of it.

"...No. Hell no. I love this galaxy. Women who make porn stars look flat and models look plain who consider a micro bikini with what amounts to a sarong and a shawl as day wear is probably what I consider heaven."

Miren leans in, lifting her sunglasses and gives her new friend a properly smokey look.

"Well in that case handsome, do you want me to be your angel?" The alien leans in a bit and purses her lips. "Or your devil?"

The rest of the team erupts in laughter as Jerry fights to keep his smile off his face.

Johnny D., clearly amused, and now blatantly holding Isabella's hand calls out;

"Daaaaaaamn. That was smooth! Kiss her you fool! She earned it!”

"...What the hell, why not?"

So kiss her he does, a kiss that starts passionate and goes deep, dragging on for long minutes until Isabella finally asks;

"Aight, bets on how long it takes for them to remember they need to breathe?"

The snogging commando sticks a middle finger up in Isabella's general direction as a few passing women cat call the apparent new couple, which certainly shakes Miren out of it. The Rabbis woman is now looking just a touch woozy and very flushed.

"Damn. Those pheromones hit like a truck. Gonna need to stop and get a suppressant or I'm just going to drag you to bed, and I'd rather go on a date or two first."

One quick stop to a corner store later and Miren is looking far more steady on her high heels, and is happily playing tour guide for her possible new boyfriend and his friends.

Finally, Jerry sees an opportunity to probe for some information.

"Say, Miren?"

"Mhmm?" Miren is happily hanging on her commando's arm, very aggressively staking her 'claim'.

"Do you know anything about cloning? I've heard about it but we haven't really had net access yet."

A little lie, but a white one.

"Oh! I don't know too much about it, but my boss is a vegetarian carnivore. She only eats cloned meat. I order her stuff from a boutique specialist, a spire or two over. The lady who runs the joint's a real peach, and most girls are happy to help a man out if you've got questions. If they're too busy, I'm sure they could direct you to some resources!"

'Jackpot.' Jerry thinks to himself.

"Sure, could you give me the contact information?"

When Jerry pulls out his communicator to take the information down, he notices something else.

A message icon.

A note from the man handling the data he had smuggled carefully from Cruel Space, after traveling thousands of miles and spending many thousands of dollars to assemble it all.

'It's ready.'

Jerry smiles, keeping his face warm and friendly. He had a location. He had the data. Just a little bit more information and everything would be ready.

"Say, let's all grab lunch, my treat."

"Woo! Boss is buying!"

Jerry just keeps smiling as he trails behind his little group of commandos. Maybe Isabella and Johnny suspected their old skipper was up to something. Maybe. They'd known him long enough, but his operational security was air tight. Even the nerd didn't know what information he'd just transferred.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.