Eirik found himself being worn out more by the Kloxna family on his ship than he did by 6 months away from port. In the 3 days it took for them to reach the smuggler station, he found himself in a constant state of worry about the next call for his assistance. The situation was not improved by the 3 youngest of the Kloxna children having taken a liking to Eirik. No matter where he was outside his private room, they would find him and claim spots on him for resting.

What was worse, they would fight, or at least attempt to do so, over the favored spots. His head was the ultimate prize for any of them. Eirik suspected it was on account of the massive amount of body heat that was lost through the head. Some 40%, if he remembered correctly.

So it was with a happy heart and dark bags under his eyes that he finally saw the smuggler station on the scanners. He had taken to wearing an old parka with a front pocket, so the 3 Kloxna children could be stored there. Warm, safe, and most importantly, out of Eirik's hands, he could live with this. They spent most of their time in the pocket of the parka, sleeping, only waking up to look for food. The entire crew was amazed at the amount of food the little Kloxna could shovel inside of them. But they had gained weight and were much more energetic when scavenging for food, compared to when they arrived.

Krisnu was as happy as she could be. Her entire family was eating well and her children had not cried from hunger since they arrived on the ship. She had spent as much time as she could, trying to find out more about Eirik. She had met Freja, which had been interesting. At first, she had been disappointed, thinking the Captain was the kind of man to fall for superficial beauty. But as she spoke with the Terran woman, she learned just how capable the young woman was. She was Eirik's equal in every sense of the word. She even surpassed him, in some areas.

this had caused her to, once more, reassess her opinion of Eirik. He was an anomaly to her. Even compared to his crew, which she had come to understand were quite a collection of oddballs, he was eccentric. She had been mortified when Trasti told her of the Eirik sharing his idea of faith. When she had asked Eirik about it, he had told her about the many gods he believed in. Imperfect gods that cared little for anything other than the entertainment Terrans could provide them with, and living a wonderful life, according to Eirik, feasting, and drinking. Going hunting and taking their goddesses to bed. An almost hedonistic lifestyle combined with the hard work of governing their realm of godhood.

She found it all very confusing. At least her son believed in ancient teachings, not ancient myths. But after meeting Jeanette, The ships analyst and Eirik's *seer*. He had explained it as someone that could, allegedly, read omens of the near and far future by throwing inscribed bone pieces on the ground. She had offered to give Krisnu a reading and Krisnu had humored her. It had been the expected vague prophecies of good fortune... Until she had grabbed Krisnu's hand, gently but firmly, and told her that not only would she create a thriving business with her family. She would become a teacher of other Kloxna, wishing to work their way to happiness. She also said that one of her children would help shape the future of the Kloxna people.

She could have looked at any of her many children when she heard that. Her eldest daughter, the next in line to take over as matriarch. One of the 3 small children that had yet to develop final character traits. But her eyes fell on Trasti, reading a book about Terran political systems throughout their history, and she knew it would be him. "If you can change yourself so much, in less than half a year," She had thought to herself, "How much could you change our people over a decade?"

She had snapped her head back to the young Terran woman in, still holding her hand, and Jeanette had just smiled a kind smile and said to her, "It's going to be alright, Krisnu. I see only good in your future." After which, she had stood up and left Krisnu with her jaw hanging open.

No matter what she learned about him, it just added more questions. Were all Terrans like this?

_______________________

As the ship pulled into the dock, Eirik's datapad pinged with a message from an unknown sender.

The Waterhole

The message was the name of a sleazy bar with a reputation for the bad type of clientele. "Must be big news, for an infiltrator to desire meeting in such a place." Eirik thought to himself, but that only tickled his curiosity. He went to his room to get Freja and headed out, towards his brother's office.

As they entered through the open door, Eirik saw that his brother was starting to put personal touches on it. The standard desk was replaced with dark hardwood, most likely oak if he knew his brother's taste. The office chair had been changed out with an ergonomic swivel chair and the windows had been given some blinds. Eirik bent down and looked under the table. "You sly bastard," he remarked as he saw the pistol holster that was bolted to the inside of the drawers, right next to where his leg would be when he was sitting, and the double-barrel shotgun hanging from a ball joint mounted to the underside of the desk.

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"A man has got to protect himself. My station is prospering, Eirik. That attracts the wrong kind of attention, especially considering the kind of people that use this place. When you take the trained soldiers with you, I have no idea how I am going to keep security as tight as now." Lasse's voice was warm and welcoming, but there was an edge to it.

"I actually planned on using your station as a recruitment and training center, down the line." Eirik smiled broadly as he spoke and spread out his arms for an embrace. Lasse laughed and they both hugged before grasping each other's shoulders. "It's good to see you safe, brother" Lasse said with a big smile, the edge from his voice gone.

"Likewise, I know it isn't easy to run a station like this. Listen, I got a Kloxna family wishing to settle on Mystan and raise chickens. Can you get in touch with the Andersen family back home and see if they are still looking to expand their operation? I could use a couple of experienced farmhands to teach the Kloxna how things work." Eirik was happy being back with his brother and suddenly remembered something, "Oh, and thank you, for helping Freja find me. I never thanked you for that."

Lasse waved it off but his smile indicated he appreciated the gesture. "Of course. I will call them tonight, after their dinner. You know how they get if you call during daylight hours."

"Daylight is work light" Eirik recited, the sentence drilled into his skull by the close friend of the family. Stig, the head of the Andersen family, did not believe in the concept of relaxation. Idle time, was time you could work to improve your situation in life. But when he was finally convinced to join a feast or party, he would eat for 2 and drink for 3, collapsing in a drunken heap by 4 in the morning. When questioned why he did things like that, he had always replied "I work hard, I sleep hard and I party hard. Why do something if you are not going to commit?"

"You remember as well," Lasse said. "Now, not to be rude, but I got quite a lot of work to do..."

"Of course, I just wanted to swing by and let you see that I'm still alive and annoying," Eirik replied. "See you later".

With that, he and Freja walked out of the office and towards The Waterhole.

____________________

They found the bar at the end of an alley between two storefronts and entered through the worn and battered door. They were met with low heavy metal and a smoke-filled room, 3 pool tables on one side dominated by a group of drunk men wearing leather vests and jeans. The rest of the room was dominated by dirty tables and chairs, most of them in use by shady-looking individuals of all races. Eirik attracted several hateful stares from Kloxna dotted around the room and Freja received ample attention from the Terran men in the room. Women were rare in this bar. Beautiful women were nothing but a myth around these parts.

Eirik scanned the room and found an unoccupied table in the back corner. He pointed it out to Freja and walked up to the bar where he got a double rum and a double whisky, both on the rocks. As he was about to pick up the glasses he suddenly froze and ordered a third glass of rum.

As he got back to the table and set the drink down, Freja asked," Why 3 drinks?"

Eirik said nothing but straightened up and picked up the second rum as he heard footsteps behind him.

"How much?" A rough voice asked.

Eirik turned around and saw one of the men from the group at the pool tables. His face had a week old, splotchy beard, his hair was greasy and unkempt and there was an aura of drunk danger around him. this man was truly unpredictable. Eirik spoke, "I assume you mean, how much to spend time with the lady, in which case I can tell you, she is, in fact, NOT a whore, and I am not a pimp. Now we have that cleared up, was there anything else?"

The drunken man laughed coarsely before replying, "Maybe I should just take her since you won't share!"

Eirik shot a glance back at Freja and said, "I tried, love" before he turned back to the man and flung the rum in his eyes. As the man screamed and lowered his head from the alcohol hitting his eyes, Eirik kicked out hard against the man's knee which gave a resounding *CRACK* before his leg bent the wrong way and the man collapsed with a shriek. One of the other men ran at Eirik with a pool cue and Eirik stepped forward to deny the man the use of his weapon before smashing the now empty glass into his temple.

Knocked senseless, the man went tumbled sideways before slamming his head into the bar as he fell over. The gush of blood as he spun around made it clear the nose had been broken on impact with the bar. The rest of the group of men just stared at Eirik who reached towards Freja behind him and received a knife she pulled out of her boot.

"Anyone else that thinks they are going to make choices for the woman?" He asked and assumed a combat stance with the knife held ready. The group suddenly got very busy with everything else besides looking in their general direction.

"How much?" he asked of the bartender as he returned the knife to Freja.

"200" came the reply from the bar.

"And if I still got business in here?"

"500" The same voice replied.

"Deal." Eirik finished the conversation and sat down. 5 minutes later, a hooded figure slid down at the table. "I do not like attention!" The faceless voice hissed at Eirik.

"Then don't request the meetings in these places," Eirik growled back. "What have you got?"

A piece of paper was slid over the table.

"The location of not only the prison, but I can provide a map of the underground complex as well. For an additional fee, of course, as it was not part of the original deal." The faceless voice once again hissed at him.

Eirik sighed both in relief and frustration and the haggling began.