After Eirik finished training, he went to the cantina. It was still fairly early and most of the crew had not risen from their sleep yet, but Old Pan was rummaging around his kitchen, busy preparing breakfast for the crew. Eirik walked up to the door and looked inside. The counters were spotless, as always, if a bit tattered from the many years of use. The pots and pans were all hanging in neat rows along with the tools of the trade, a myriad of knives, ladles, spoons, forks, and other cooking implements.

The only thing not removed from the stoves and counters was the large cast-iron frying pan that had a permanent place on the corner of the biggest stove, right in front of a giant pot filled with water and uncleaned potatoes. At some point during the day, Pan would shanghai some poor souls into peeling all of them, most likely on bogus charges like forgetting to push their chairs back towards the table when they left or because they put their trays and plates in the dirty pile at an angle.

Without thinking about it, Eirik started peeling them and transferring them to a fresh pot filled with water, while Old Pan kept himself busy with cutting the meat for the day. They worked like this in silence for a while before Pan broke the silence. "So what is bothering you, Captain?"

Eirik didn't answer at first, opting to peel more potatoes. Pan didn't say anymore, but the increasingly aggressive *THOK* *THOK* *THOK* on his cutting board spoke of his displeasure.

"Where does an emperor go to air his worries and fears?" Eirik finally said, more to the empty room than to Pan. "I remember peeling these potatoes when I joined the military for the first time. You are still using the same bloody potato peeler, I remember this chip in the handle. For as long as I have had a military career, you have been nearby. Offering food, warmth, comfort, and a sense of home, whenever life got me down.

You have been as stable an element in my life as fighting has been, and still is. Which is why you are the only person I would for this. Can I come down here once in a while, help peel the potatoes, and air my grievances to them? I know that you, of all people, can keep a secret."

"What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen!" Pan grumbled. "But why here, why me? I'm just an old cook, Captain."

"I seem to remember something you once told me. In many ways, life is like a stew. You can't always get the ingredients you want, so you just have to make do with what you got." Eirik said with a smile," Well, this is the ingredients you got. Are you going to make the stew?"

*THWACK*

"Don't sass me with my own wisdom!" Old Pan was still twirling the large wooden stirring spoon he had used to whack Eirik over the head with

"OW!! Do that again and I will stop the import of silver eels before it starts!" Eirik was rubbing the back of his head furiously after getting hit with the spoon but the threat of not importing eel was enough to stop Old Pan from twirling his spoon and narrowing his eyes into slits.

"You. Wouldn't. Dare!" He said as he tightened the grip on the spoon.

"I'll order 2 metric tons of Haggis if you come at with me that spoon again! Nothing but innards and organs for a motherfucking year!" Eirik got a dishcloth from a nearby table and soaked it in cold water before placing it on the back of his head. The old man was downright deadly with his cooking utensils.

They stared each other down for a minute before they both started laughing. Pan because Eirik was one of the few people that could best his authority in the kitchen and Eirik because Old Pan was one of the very few people that could hit him like that and get away with it.

"You go on, come down here and peel as many potatoes as you like, whenever you like, Eirik. You have my blessing." Pan said as the laughter died down. He walked over and hugged Eirik, the tiny man barely reaching Eirik's shoulders. "But if you ever withhold that eel from me, I will serve you nothing but spinach for the rest of your life!" He whispered in a strangely loving and caring voice.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Eirik returned the hug and left the kitchen after that. He was happy he could come down here and just be himself. Everybody needs a space where they can lower their guard around other people.

____________________________

It was getting late in the afternoon when the *Void Wolf* approached the border to the Chiros sector, a collection of solar systems with a surprisingly vast amount of planets located within the "goldilocks zone" where water can be found in liquid form, a necessity for life as we know it.

By intergalactic law, the entire area had been cordoned off and declared a sanctuary for those fledgling species located within. Studies from afar had so far shown signs of intelligent life evolving on them, such as deliberate terraforming and forest clearing on a large scale.

Interference with said species or even entering the sector was a crime usually punished with extreme sanctions on any government committing the crime, or life in prison for the private individuals that broke the rules.

And now, Eirik was about to break just about every intergalactic law put in place around this sector. He had not yet found the time to meet up with the galactic council and sign the number of treaties that every species signed once they discovered FTL travel and joined the galactic community.

Refusal to sign the treaties was met with harsh and immediate action. Ban on all trade from the species in question as well as a species-wide outlaw status, making anyone that refuses a prime target for expansionist empires.

Eirik didn't care, he needed to find Narvik's people. If he found them, he would be very close to finding Dalle. But that also meant great danger. What was it Ull had told him? "The predator you see is not the one you should worry about"?

That could mean anything. Traps, hidden allies, an entire species brainwashed by their own legends, and a bit of modern-day psychology. He went to the bridge and started going over the different planets in the system, gathering maps of the star constellations and readings of the planets during their initial discovery.

He would need to confer with Narvik once the strange, knowledge-seeking creature woke up.

______________________

Dalle was more than annoyed, he was bordering the berserker state, as he sat on the bridge of the small ship he had taken with him to visit the damn Glorpil. Something had triggered his remote sensor beacons and he could not afford anyone to discover the neat little operation he had set up amongst those superstitious morons.

They were a great asset to him, functioning as spies and assassin's when he needed it. Their fanatic zeal and faith made them unquestionably loyal to him, as long as no other Terrans came by.

Being in charge of the mercenaries he had commanded when he first met the Glorpil had made them assume he was the chosen speaker for all "prophets" as they liked to call Terrans, some divine stroke of luck or perhaps the interference of a precursor species had made the Glorpil worship idols that had a striking resemblance to Terrans.

For the sake of Drama, Dalle had a small base built in the nearby mountain peaks, relative to the largest settlement of the Glorpil. Strangely enough, it was not their capital, but their trade hub. Their capital was isolated, the belief being that leaders living in quiet contemplation could best serve the public interest.

"Bunch of bullshit!" Dalle thought to himself as he glared around the bridge, the Plyxii and Terran mercenaries avoiding his gaze whenever it swept over them.

"Relax, boss. If he discovers those little idiots, I will take care of him. You have my word on it." A feminine voice rang out behind Dalle.

"Sif. Finally awake and gracious enough to bless us with your presence!" Dalle spat, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice. He refused to turn around and give her the satisfaction of gawking at her. Despite being short enough to only barely surpass a Kloxna, she was a woman of immense beauty.

Dalle cursed the day she refused his advances, stating that she only wanted a professional relationship. That she was destined for bigger things than a second-rate mercenary captain on the run.

He felt her hot breath on his ear as she purred with sadistic glee "I will ensnare him into my web and then I shall see if he is everything I hear about him. And I would need to be very thorough in my 'research' of the newly christened emperor. Whether he wants it or not!"

Dalle shuddered in delight for a second at the thought, only to be snapped back to reality as her mocking laughter rang out across the bridge. "Forget it, Captain, didn't I already dismiss those thoughts once? Don't make me laugh by degrading yourself further."

"CURSE YOU, WOMAN!" Dalle roared in anger and shame, "Why do I even keep you on the ship?"

"Because you have paid an extreme amount of credits for my services. And I plan to deliver on said services. Once Eirik is dead, I will be gone again. But how and when he dies, is up to me, and a man of such reputation is a man I need to make mine before he dies. Besides," Sif grabbed Dalle's hair and yanked hard backward, causing him to yelp out in pain.

"I want to see the hurt and jealousy on your face when I tell you all about it! I love watching men squirm under my hand.!"