Oscar shifted on the steel bench in a valiant attempt to prevent his ass from going numb. His view was nothing but cast concrete walls to either side, with a lovely set of vertical steel bars in front of him. Beyond that was another concrete wall, completing the whole Brutalist theme of the stockade.

A man in fatigues sat slouched next to the door out of this place; he'd not so much as looked at Oscar since the MPs had chucked the latter in here. It looked like he was here just in case his prisoner had any bright ideas about bending apart the cell's bars with his bare hands.

Oscar knew that the crew of the Claw would be getting worried right about now. The translator bead was a transponder too, so they'd know he'd been in one place for over two hours. He was also sure that Egwreh had hacked the human database enough to know the location of the base's jail. Given that there were no worried Dorarizin voices in his ear, it seemed that the stockade had enough shielding around it to block vocal communication.

"Hey, could I get my phone call?" he asked the guard. "My crew is gonna be looking for me. I'd like to avoid any complications, yanno?"

The guard shifted his gaze and looked at Oscar as if he was a piece of navel lint. "You'll get one. Eventually."

Oscar held up his hands. "Okay, fine. Just don't blame me when you get a buncha Dorarizin commandos bustin' through your walls."

In spite of his words, he wondered if his so-called 'family' would really do anything so extreme. For starters, storming the base would result in a huge diplomatic clusterfuck. His pack might instead decide that it was easier to leave him on ice for the moment. They could act more freely in their investigation without having to keep him in the dark. If they did go that route, he hoped that at least Myyreh would put up a token protest.

The door slammed open, breaking Oscar out of his mental funk. A fireplug of a man with slicked-back black hair and a substantial black mustache marched into the room just as the guard scrambled to his feet and snapped out a salute.

The newcomer turned his head looked the guard over. "Open cell. Then get lost."

"Sir?"

The only reply the guard received was an imperious pointing finger at the cell door's lock. He fumbled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the cell with a dull metallic clank. Oscar didn't make a move towards the door, instead he leaned back in a manner which said louder than words I will not try anything stupid.

In spite of that posture, the guard still felt the need to speak up. "Sir, are you sure you'll be all right alone with him? I saw the video from the bar, he's really damn fast..."

The commander (and by now Oscar knew this guy had to be the commander) just jerked his thumb towards the door. With another, more apologetic salute the guard did as told, closing the door as he left.

Oscar remained leaning against the wall while the commander slid the cell door open. He paused for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if Oscar would do something as foolish as charge him. When Oscar remained seated, the commander shrugged and hauled the guard's chair into the cell with a faint screech of metal legs on concrete. He plopped the chair inside the cell and next to its door, across from Oscar. With a grunt he thumped himself down on it before reaching into a breast pocket and fishing out a battered, half-full pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth, where it hung like a decaying shop sign on the verge of collapse. After a moment of consideration, he offered the pack towards Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I haven't had one in about twenty years," said Oscar. "But why not?" He reached forward and plucked out a cigarette of his own while the commander fished out an equally battered lighter and flicked it open. With a few quick, precise movements he lit Oscar's cigarette then his own. Oscar leaned back and drew on the cigarette; as he expected the harsh smoke made him cough. He was well-disciplined, however, and managed to hack up only half a lung before getting himself under control.

The commander's face didn't so much as crack a smile. He took in a deep lungful from his own cigarette and regarded Oscar with a steady gaze while smoke drifted out of his nostrils.

Finally Oscar spoke up. "Do I know you? You look familiar."

"Prague, Mr. Williams," said the commander.

"Ah, shit, that's right. You're Valentin, you were guarding Anatoly. How's he doing?"

The commander took in a drag, making the cigarette's coal flare bright before he spoke. "He's doing well. Getting fat and happy in retirement, except when the weather changes. Then he curses at anyone who will listen about the 'damned Amerikosy' who broke his knee."

Oscar winced. "He, ah, could get that regenerated. I got a new foot, myself." He motioned at the appendage he hadn't been born with. "Hell, I'll even pay for it."

Commander Valentin waved a hand to dismiss the notion. "Echh, you know Anatoly. Very set in his ways. There's no chance that he'll allow himself to get shot up with some alien technology."

They both smoked in silence for a few seconds before Oscar spoke. "You were former spetznaz, am I right? I figured you were, you were pretty fast."

"Not fast enough, eh? What I was is irrelevant. My government ceased to exist the moment they instigated the..." Valentin didn't complete the sentence, instead he made an arc with his index finger to mime the path of a missile in flight.

"I know you don't believe me, but I'm glad that you and Anatoly are still alive," said Oscar. "After Prague, things got really crazy everywhere when that Karnakian medical tech went worldwide." He snorted. "I still can't believe it. Humanity was given everything we could ever want, and we still managed to fuck things up."

The commander's eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and regarded its glowing ash as he spoke. "Da, I did live through the Troubles. As did you. Things were worse in Russia, thanks to...well, thanks to Russians, but I know it wasn't a picnic for you Amerikosy either."

Oscar took a much smaller drag on his cigarette. "So why are you here? This command has gotta be strictly volunteer. Why place yourselves right in the middle of these guys?"

Valentin shrugged. "The aliens say they are friendly, that they have nothing but good intentions towards us. I am merely following ancient Russian proverb. Trust, but verify." He pointed his cigarette at Oscar, its tip glowing like an accusation. "And you? Why are you here?"

Oscar blew out a smoke-laden breath. "To feel useful, I guess? It was either that or sit on a beach and wait to die."

"I'm not asking about your overall motive, idiot." Valentin leaned forward, his hazel eyes hard. "Why is your team here? Why are you snooping around my base, and why do I now have three gopniks in my infirmary?"

"Well. As for that last bit, I can only say that they started it."

"And you finished it, hmm? I've seen the camera footage and talked to the bartender myself. I'm still waiting to hear reason you're here."

Oscar figured that he'd try a little fishing, using the cover story. "We're doing a routine check of the colony's security. So far everything seems fine, although we've gotten reports of non-OIH-approved human media cropping up. I was 'snooping around', as you put it, to see if it came from here."

The commander leaned back with a sigh. "You are referring to the porn? There's a lot of it in the colony. The governor has done nothing but complain to me about it these last seven months. I'll tell you what I tell him. If media comes from this base, it does not come from anyone under my command."

There was a hesitant rapping on the door into the room. Valentin growled in annoyance, then roared out, "What?"

The door edged open, and the guard poked his head in. "Sir, we have a situation at the front gate."

Valentin twisted himself around in the chair to glare back at the man. "More specific, please?"

"Um, there's a couple of Dorarizin demanding entrance. The guard said that one of 'em is the alien that came in yesterday with this guy. The other one is, quote, 'The biggest fucking werewolf I've ever seen in my fucking life,' unquote."

In spite of himself, Oscar felt his spirits lift at the news. "Ah, that'll be Myra and the Captain."

Valentin untwisted himself to shift his glare onto Oscar. "I do not respond well to threats."

Oscar spread his hands. "I tell you truly, Valentin Ivanovich. I did not call my crew, and I don't like them threatening you either. If you wanna look more into me or into that bar brawl, I'll wait right here. Let me call the front gate and talk to them, I'll let 'em know I'm okay and tell 'em to vamoose."

Valentin didn't say anything.

Oscar waved a hand towards him. "It's your call, you're the boss."

The commander took a last drag on his cigarette and stood, then dropped the butt to the cement floor of the cell before grinding the butt under his boot. "Da. I am boss as you say. So here is boss's decision. You will not be charged. You will call front gate, tell your friends you are coming out. To avoid any...misunderstanding with your friends, you will not be marched to gate under guard. But I will have eyes on you every moment you are in my base. Once you leave, never set foot in here again."

Valentin then shook his head. "'Routine check of colony security'. You must think me a thick-headed peasant." He spun on his heels and marched out the door.

Oscar stood, grateful that his butt hadn't gone to sleep yet. He nodded at the guard and walked out of the cell, then out of the door beyond. His suspicion about shielding proved correct; as soon as he crossed the threshold out of the room his ear was suddenly filled with the sound of the Captain's imperious and stressed voice.

"[He just came back online! [Oscar], report!]"

Oscar winced and pressed a finger to his ear. "Ma'am, please relax? It's cool, I'm on my way out. Just hang tight for a few minutes."

----------------------------------------

Oscar knew that Valentin was testing him. He figured that if, during his walk to the gate, he did something stupid...like, say, question anybody about bootleg porn...then he'd get thrown right back into the stockade.

At least Rgrarshok and Myyreh had come for him. He did feel better at that bit of news as he walked along the pseudo-Disneyesque boulevard towards the main gate. That lift in his heart was tempered by some annoyance that they thought he needed to be rescued like a kid. Still, he couldn't pout forever about being kept out of the loop, and he needed to show his appreciation for them.

As he thought that, he glanced left. Next to him stood a shop with an awning which sported red, white, and green stripes. The words 'Pizza Express' stretched in a rainbow-like curve on the front window. Somebody had taped a smaller sign printed on paper below that rainbow; this sign stated 'Now delivering to the Galaxy!'.

Maybe a couple of pies would make a decent gift. He touched his ear again. "Captain? I'm gonna make a quick stop, okay?"

Her voice was still tense. "[For how long?]"

"I'll let you know in a minute."

The door emitted a soft ding as Oscar crossed into the pizzeria's small lobby. A familiar mixture of smells washed over him, that of cooking meat and vegetables overlaid with the tang of yeast and baking crust. The odor gave him a little pang of homesickness. The place sported a few token red-leather booths against one wall, but this was clearly a pizzeria that subsisted on takeout and delivery.

The man behind the register perked up as he entered. He was a skinny guy with a pencil mustache, and wore a red apron with green stripes. "For here or takeout?"

"Takeout," responded Oscar as he scanned the menu above the cashier's head. "Um, how long to make five...no, eight extra-large pizzas?"

"Ten minutes," said the man casually. He nodded towards the back. "It's all automated, the main wait-time is the cooking."

"Then give me eight extra-large supremes with added pepperoni." Oscar touched his ear. "Hey, Captain, I'll be out in about fifteen minutes."

The cashier grinned as he rang up Oscar's order. "Word's gotten around about your alien friends. Going to introduce them to the wonder of Terran pizza?"

Oscar chuckled and felt his dark mood finally dissipate. "Yep. I saw your sign. Is it really that popular?"

The man shrugged. "For the food itself...eh? All of the other races have their own version of flatbread-with-things-upon-it. But what they don't have is fresh delivery." He pointed out the front window, to a similarly tri-colored restaurant which sat diagonally across the way. "About six months ago, 'Il Tricolore' started letting delivery drivers go to places outside the base. Although 'driver' isn't really the right word. The aircars are all automated, so it's more like they just carry the pizza to where it's supposed to go."

"That seems pretty wasteful," said Oscar. "Couldn't you have drones do the same thing?"

The man shook his head while grinning. "Naw, that was the genius bit that Tobias realized."

"Tobias?"

"Guy who owns Il Tricolore. Anyway, the pizza is irrelevant. It's having humans deliver it, that's the key." He smiled and shrugged again. "I thought the guy was crazy, but damn if it doesn't work. His business went through the roof, and I had to follow suit."

Oscar turned to regard the other pizzeria. "In-person delivery?" He'd long since known the deep dark secret of the universe (namely, that all of the alien races found humans adorable), and yet he hadn't expected that attraction to extend to having humans deliver one's pizza...er, one's 'flatbread-with-things-upon-it'. A corner of Oscar's brain started yelling at him. Somehow this was tied to the case.

"Yeah, the real bottleneck is having enough drivers to keep up with demand." The owner sighed. "I've had to hire on some of the military guys to deliver during their off-shift. I'm still making good money, though, even with the increased outflow in salaries."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Oscar wanted to dig more into that, but knew he needed to keep the conversation innocent for the sake of anyone listening in. He made a noncommittal grunt and waited for his mega-pizza-order while his mind churned through the various possibilities. Maybe a delivery driver, one of the off-duty grunts, overheard something about the Egg while dropping off a pizza. The driver reported it to Valentin, who then...stole the Egg from his hosts while sitting smack in the middle of them? No, that didn't make sense. In spite of his demeanor, Valentin struck Oscar as a pretty stand-up guy.

Or maybe this 'Colonel Jacobs' character was up to something? During Hnnresnthsh's party, with the alcohol flowing freely, maybe the archivist had let something slip. Jacobs might have organized the Egg's theft for pure profit, and Valentin was none the wiser. Oscar gave another grunt, this time one of annoyance. If only he knew what was on the damn Egg, he could start narrowing things down.

As he ruminated, the owner came out of the back with a stack of boxes. "That'll be thirty GRC, sir,"

Oscar patted his uniform's breast pocket...and didn't feel any credit chips. For one heart-dropping moment he wondered if he'd fell afoul of a pickpocket, then breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the proper lumps in his other breast pocket. He turned and stepped up to the counter. "Whew, for a second there I thought I'd have to wash some dishes," he said as he handed the man a fifty-GRC chip.

"Got robots for that," said the man as he rang up the sale and plugged in the chip to record Oscar's change.

Oscar's eyes widened as things clicked into place inside his head. Paying for pizza through other means, plus having humans deliver in person...only now, he realized what was bugging him about that bootleg porn chip. He snatched the stack of pizza boxes off of the counter. "Keep the change, gotta go."

He hustled as fast as he could towards the gate without running. Running would attract Valentin's attention, and he didn't want to trip and wind up with a face full of pizza.

The same kid Oscar met during his first visit still manned the gate, only now the kid had his carbine clutched in white-knuckled hands instead of slung over a shoulder. To his credit, he was still pointing his weapon at the ground in front of him. Beyond the gate stood the reason for the guard's anxiety: two sizable furry forms, one much bigger than the other, squatted on the ground and stared at the youngster with laser-like intensity.

Myyreh's tail wagged furiously when she spied Oscar. Much to Oscar's surprise, the Captain's own tail also gave a few swishes.

"[Sweetie!]" Myyreh called out. "[Are you okay?]"

"Fine, no problem," said Oscar. He nodded at the guard. "You can put that away now."

Myyreh leapt to her feet as he walked through the gate. She spread her arms in preparation for a hug, but then stopped and looked at the boxes in his arms. "[What are those? Food?]"

"Yep. Consider it my olive branch to y'all."

"[That's not a branch,]" said the Captain. "[That's a bunch of boxes. They smell nice, though.]"

"Good to hear, let's get back to the ship before they get cold." Oscar kept walking at a brisk trot, determined to get out of range of any of Valentin's cameras before saying anything. His alien comrades looked at each other, shrugged, and then loped after him.

----------------------------------------

Oscar plonked the stack of boxes up onto the Claw's mess table. "There we go!" The table was about chest-height on him, so he was able to slide the boxes off of each other and arrange them in a line on the table. "It's all the same, dig in."

The crew of the Claw stared as he flipped open the nearest box and pulled out a slice which was in danger of losing its structural integrity from all of the toppings piled on it. Oscar took a bite, chewed, and pronounced himself satisfied.

Bgrarh's choice of shirt today was hot pink and neon blue. The colorful Dorarizin shuffled forward and pulled out his own slice. While the rest of the crew began to descend on Oscar's offering, the big Dorarizin downed the slice in one bite. As Bgrarh chewed, his tail began wagging.

Oscar turned to Egwreh, his voice muffled by his mouthful of admittedly delicious pizza. "Emma, I'm gonna need that chip again."

Emma tilted her head. "[I can't understand you.]"

"Oh, sorry." Oscar finished chewing and swallowed. "The porn chip we found in whatsizname's place, the archivist. I need to look at it again. I just had a brainwave."

----------------------------------------

Oscar sat back from his terminal and massaged his temples. His hunch was correct, and that made things oh so much more complicated. The chances of the Egg's theft being a simple crime-for-profit now hovered right around zero. For something this elaborate it just had to be an intelligence operation. What's more, he had a pretty good idea of precisely which little blonde menace was behind it.

But he couldn't just walk out and tell the pack, not yet. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe the theft was for a just cause. Maybe the tech stored in the Egg would be a real boon to humanity, something that would help alleviate the problems back on Earth. Although what tech that might be he couldn't guess. The aliens already showered humanity with all of the resources they could need...which had kinda-sorta caused some of the problems that he and Valentin had suffered through right after the Invasion. There was one area of tech, however, that was strictly off-limits to humans.

That meant the Egg's data was military in nature...probably. Which made him swing back towards telling the pack everything. The last thing humanity needed right now was for Martin and his cohort to get their hands on some planet-cracking bomb or whatnot. On the other hand, Oscar couldn't deny that the thought of humans finally achieving military parity with the aliens gave him a warm fuzzy feeling. Cute humanity or not, Earth couldn't rely on the xenos' goodwill forever.

His mind kept bouncing back and forth. At the end of the day, where did his loyalties lie? With those who'd adopted him into their family, or to his own damn species? Oscar sighed and slouched further in his chair. He needed to talk this over with someone, someone who was not over nine foot tall and covered in fur. After another moment of deliberation, he leaned forward and called up the Holo-Skype software on his terminal.

He hoped he didn't wake her up. She was feisty enough as it was...

A petite woman with olive skin and long black hair blinked into existence on Oscar's bed. She was seated in the lotus position with her eyes closed.

"This had better be good, Muscle Boy," said the hard-light hologram of Maria Vargas. She cracked one eye open. "I see you're still eating your Wheaties."

Oscar crossed his arms and smiled. "I see you're still a smart-ass. You took up meditation?"

Maria growled as she opened her eyes fully. "It's either this or I throttle feathered necks 24/7."

"You're still dealing with Karnakians? I thought that business with the Sacred Claw of McGillicuddy would be enough to make you swear off of 'em."

"Yeah well, the boss is an expert in ancient Karnakian history. Dealing with nut-job raptors comes with the job description. What's up?"

Oscar leaned forward and stared at the deck, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Do you think we've sold out?"

She raised one eyebrow. "Sold out who?"

"Humanity."

"Short answer, no. What brought this on?"

Oscar rubbed his forehead. "I can't tell you. I don't know a lot of the details, plus I don't know who might be listening in. Just know that I'm conflicted. Is what we're doing a benefit to Earth? Or are we just going off and doing our own thing, humanity be damned?"

Maria uncrossed her legs as she pondered the question. "You're worried about depopulation?"

Oscar wanted to keep his worries vague just in case someone was tapping the line. "Among other things, yeah. We're not exactly setting a good example."

She chuckled. "Speak for yourself! I don't intend to be out here forever. I'm gonna work for the boss for a decade or so. Once I get enough experience and reference material, I'm creating an in-depth version of Karnakian history. One written by a human for humans. Then I'll come back to Earth, semi-retire, and find myself a cute nerdy boy that I can wrap around my finger. I figure we'll have five, maybe six kids. That plus teaching should keep me busy."

Maria looked at him with narrowed eyes. "But somehow I don't think population stats are what's eating at you." When Oscar didn't respond, she shrugged. "If you won't tell me details, then I don't know how much advice I can give you."

Oscar thought over his next words carefully. "Do you think we can trust them? Forever?"

Maria snorted. "What kind of question is that?"

"Exactly what I said. The aliens are friendly now, when we're weak and primitive. What happens when we get stronger?"

"But...why would they stop being friends? The other Senate species get along with each other fine, and they're all at the same level." Maria shook her head. "Sure it's not entirely peaceful, there's pirates and a warlord or two here and there, but no big wars or genocides. I think you're being paranoid."

Oscar rested his forehead in his hands. "Maybe. Yeah, once we're all built up and as strong as them they'll treat us the same as they do each other. But what about before that? What about when we're powerful enough to be a nuisance but not powerful enough to keep the rest of the Senate from doing whatever they want to us?"

"You really are paranoid." said Maria. "You think they'd wipe us out?"

"No, but they could exile us to our own solar system and keep us there. I don't know, maybe you're right and I'm jumping at shadows. I keep going back and forth."

Maria pondered anew for a long while. "I think...I think that using 'trust' in the same sentence as 'government' is meaningless. Governments don't trust each other. Organizations don't trust each other. But people do."

She laughed. "The first time I met Hrathra, I was so nervous. It'd finally hit me that I was committed. I was leaving home, and I wasn't gonna see another human for a very long time. So there I am, pacing around my Überduffel and staring at the hangar deck in a funk. Then suddenly I'm face-to-face with this huge green Jornissian. She's right at my eye level, giving me the most intense glare I've ever received. Her face looked so angry, like I'd somehow wronged her by simply existing."

"That's just because of the way their eyes are set," said Oscar.

"Yeah, and I knew that from training. But it's one thing to read it on the page or see a picture...and quite another to have one of 'em practically touching noses with you. I thought for a moment about screaming 'fuck this' and running. But I decided to trust her. I took a deep breath, managed to squeak out a hello, and shook her hand. And it worked out after all. Now she's one of my best friends. Not to mention if I ever wind up in Hell, I know that Satan is gonna find himself eye-to-eye with one very pissed-off Reshy."

Oscar leaned back and laughed. "If that particular throw-down ever happens, my money's on the Jornissian. Even without powered armor. Thanks, this helps a lot."

"Anytime, Muscle Boy. Now I'm bowing out of here before your girlfriend comes busting through the door. There are some things which cannot be unseen." Maria's image winked back out of existence.

----------------------------------------

By the time Oscar returned to the mess room there was no more pizza, just empty boxes. Bgrarh looked a little ashamed. "[Sorry, [Oscar], I know you only got to eat one slice but they were so tasty...]"

"Nah, that's fine," said Oscar. "I got 'em for you guys anyway."

"[Thank you]," said Myyreh. She peered at him in a shy, sideways manner. "[Does this mean you're not angry any more?]"

"I'm still a little cheesed off," replied Oscar. "But you guys did come to my aid, even if I didn't need it."

"[Yes, about that,]" said Rgrarshok. "[Why were you incarcerated? And what's this [brainwave] you mentioned?]"

"The answer to your first question is simple. A bunch of drunk guys thought they could beat me up and I showed them how very wrong they were. The MPs only held me long enough to determine it was self defense. Bad news is, I'm not allowed back in the base."

"[That is unfortunate,]" said Ngralh. He flicked an ear in thought. "[The rest of us might be able to enter there if needed. We have the authority, but pressing the issue might draw too much attention.]"

Rgrarshok crossed her arms and stared down at Oscar. "[Unless our colleague's [brainwave] makes that unnecessary, eh?]"

Oscar pulled over his chair and hopped up on it so he could look his comrades in the eye. They all gathered around the table, and Oscar noted that Myyreh sidled over so that she was parked just to his right. He leaned forward. "Yeah, about that. I had to do a lot of thinking about this, but I'm going to..." He took a deep breath. "I'm going to trust you. All of you. I'm going to tell you what I may have figured out, no strings attached. After that, I trust that we will sit down together as a team and figure out what to do next."

Bgrarh gave a puzzled sniff. "[What's to figure out? We'll just go get the bad guys, right?]"

Rgrarshok's eyes narrowed. "[I can't promise anything, [Oscar]. There is a time-sensitive element to this affair. If what you say confirms it we need to move fast.]"

Oscar held up a hand. "I understand. I'm not saying we deliberate for hours, but I do want to talk it over before you go steamrolling in and arrest everyone. You want the Egg back, yeah?"

"[Of course,]" said the Captain.

"If I'm right it's no longer on this planet...but I think we can track it, as long as we can get the drop on those who stole it. Understand?"

Rgrarshok shrugged. "[I'll listen to you before acting, that I can promise.]"

"Okay." Oscar placed his palms flat on the table. "First, that porn chip is definitely a part of this whole mess. I had another look at it, and about eighty percent of the videos use the pizza delivery trope. That's what was bugging me earlier."

"[Pizza delivery [trope]?]" Myyreh's curious look turned into horror as she beheld the empty boxes strewn around the table. "[You mean, [humans] having sex with pizza?]"

"No, no, no, not that! Geeze, we're not that perverted. Well...most of us aren't. The sex is with the delivery person. Just a story to get the action rolling, okay? 'Oh, no, I can't find my wallet, can I pay you with a blowjob' kind of thing."

"[Oh, is that what you call it?]" asked Myyreh with a saucy wink. "[You always ask me for 'that thing I do with my tongue'.]" Oscar felt the heat of embarrassment rise in his face while the rest of the crew let forth some Dorarizin snickering.

Rgrarshok remained stone-faced. "[And this is related to our case how?]"

He cleared his throat, trying to get his brain back on track. "While I was in the base, I found out that both pizzerias are now delivering to the city at large. They started that service about six months ago. I also found out that the porn chips started showing up around town seven months ago. That timing can't be a coincidence. The chip isn't some horny snake's private stash. It was given to him."

"[For what purpose?]" asked Ngralh.

"Advertising."

"[Eh?]"

"Think about it. One theory is that the archivist went to some human or humans and offered to tell them what's on the Egg and where to get it in exchange for something. Cash, gifts, some sort of reward."

Bgrarh leaned forward, his deep blue eyes sparkling. The big Dorarizin was now in his element. "Another possibility is that [Hnnresnthsh] said something by accident during that party where the [human] was present. The other party goers said there was a lot of drinking.]"

Oscar nodded. "That's another theory. But it doesn't explain why there was so much human DNA all over his apartment. So Benny, if you combine the DNA evidence with what's on that chip, what do you deduce?"

Bgrarh sat back on his haunches, his obnoxious shirt seeming to glow slightly in the overhead lights. "[Hnnresnthsh] was [diddling] the pizza delivery people? But...no, that's just a [trope] like you said. You couldn't pay for [pizzas] with sex, not in real life.]"

"He was paying them," replied Oscar. "The pizzeria is a front for a human brothel. I'll bet our archivist likes to indulge in what we call 'pillow talk' after doing the deed. Er, do you have brothels?"

Rgrarshok stared off into the distance as she thought. "[Not as such. I know [Jornissians] have something similar, but I think you'd call it a 'sex club' rather than a [brothel].]"

Bgrarh's ears drooped. "[Oh. I see why [Oscar] was reluctant to tell us about this.]"

"[Well I don't!]" snapped Myyreh.

"[This is not a mere criminal enterprise,]" said Rgrarshok. "[Everyone in the base, even the support staff, would have been thoroughly investigated and vetted by the [human] governments before arriving.]"

Oscar nodded with his mouth set in a sour frown. "We've been using sex to gather intelligence since Babylon was a going concern. That brothel must be a spy operation. For what it's worth, I don't think the base command staff is in on it."

"[I still don't understand why you're conflicted, sweetie.]" said Myyreh, more gently.

Oscar took another deep breath. "If it's a human-led intelligence operation, then whatever's on the Egg might be useful to humanity. That's why I debated with myself if I should tell you."

Myyreh scooted herself over against Oscar's chair and ever-so-gently leaned into him. "[But we're your pack, why wouldn't you tell us?]"

"[He is of our pack, but he is also [human],]" said Rgrarshok. "[Would you have him betray his own kind without a moment's reflection? Would you consider him worthy of respect, to be so unthinking? No, I understand his dilemma.]" To Oscar's surprise, the Captain leaned forward in a deep bow towards him, her nose damn near touching the tabletop. "[Yet you told us anyway. To show such trust does us a great honor, my pack-mate.]"

Myyreh's lean into him became a little more insistent as Oscar felt tears sting at his eyes. Damn it, no, he was not going to lose it now.

Rgrarshok straightened up, and nodded towards Egwreh. "[Do it.]"

The engineer leaned forward and placed a shoebox-sized black cube in the center of the table. She tapped its surface, and Oscar felt his scalp tingle as if charged with static. The air around him felt oddly heavy.

The Captain spoke again, her voice now flat and muted by the field surrounding them. "[We only have a short time to talk freely. If the Inquisition has listening devices on board, they'll notice any substantial gap in their recordings. Do you understand?]"

Oscar whistled. "Shit, you have the Inquisition breathing down your necks? No wonder you didn't say squat to me. I wish I'd figured that out earlier...sorry, shutting up now."

One side of Rgrarshok's mouth curled up in a slight half-smile. "[As you deduced, the facility is an archive for obsolete data. Each 'Egg' contains the complete description of a different aspect of ancient technology, along with the necessary power source and nano-tech to 'grow' a readout device for its data if required.]"

"In case of apocalypse, break glass," said Oscar.

"[Something like that. The stolen Egg contains information on ancient military biotech, specifically how to augment muscles and tendons for the various Senate races. It dates from a time when super-soldiers were all the rage.]"

"You don't do that anymore?" asked Oscar. "Seems like it would still be useful."

"[Genetic tinkering over [milennia] made much of the augmentation redundant. Powered armor is more capable, not to mention easier to upgrade and repair. You now have a decision to make, but least it's an informed decision. My orders are specific, [Oscar], and I have no choice but to pursue the thieves. But if you wish to sit out this mission...I will understand.]"

"[We will understand,]" added Myyreh.

Oscar sat back, his face slack with surprise. "Really?"

"[Of course. You will always be of our pack, no matter what.]" Rgrarshok nodded again at Egwreh, who tapped the black box once more. The silencing field shut off with a faint snap. Oscar sat and stared at the table while he mulled over this new information. While he thought, Myyreh ever so slowly edged her arm around his shoulders. Without noticing, Oscar leaned into her sideways hug.

And ever so slowly, Myyreh's tail started to wag again.