Hurdop Cargo Vessel Clanmother's Curry

As the Senior (and only) Engineer, Saifex had several duties. Currently, she was sweating as the tow beams were losing coherence. In normal-space that was an issue. In R-space it was a disaster waiting to happen - masses tended to behave unexpectedly when unpowered and untethered inside an R-space tunnel and the odds were quite good that if they lost one, they'd lose the other two. Which meant that she had to keep drawing power from every system that wasn't propulsion or life support.

Saifex glanced at the clock that noted their arrival time to New Casablanca at forty minutes and debated if she could cut life support. She then shook her head a bit - this wasn't right, there was something else she could do. She fought to quell the rising panic in her throat. She remembered the words Chief Tucker had scrawled in the margin at the beginning of every chapter - "Don't Panic. Remember where your towel is and be a hoopty frood."

She had no idea what the second sentence meant, but the first one was clear. The powerplant wasn't going to be able to sustain the full load, so she had to be creative. The tow beams would lose coherence irregularly, forcing her to shunt capacitor power to the failing beam, which would cascade to the other two. But if she were in charge of the load...

Saifex tapped a quick program into her console, cycling the power on each emitter from full to eighty percent at regular intervals - after that she looked at the stability readouts. It wasn't perfect, but the emitters were holding, and holding steady. She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, finally turning to press her thumb to a comm speaker.

"Captain Jojorn, the tow emitters have been stabilized. Recommend we keep current power status until we exit R-space."

"Does that include the current environmental control?"

"Unfortunately yes." Saifex paused as she remembered that she'd taken power from the temperature and humidity controls. "I will be performing maintenance duties that will be shunting excess heat through the air ducts shortly."

"Please be quick with the maintenance. We are emerging from R-space soon, and I would prefer to have Baolet's fingers functional at that time."

"I will. I'll let you know when the cycle's begun, and then I can take a look at Baolet's hands in the med-center if needed." Engineering and medical were often crewed by the same individual - which had backfired spectacularly on multiple occasions as the one most capable of treating an engineering injury was the same one who was injured. But Saifex was loathe to give up any ship responsibility, as lessening duties would have been seen as a failure. But still, it was an impossibility compounded by recent events.

Still it weighed heavily on her mind, and as the ship dropped to regular space she went to the no-longer-freezing bridge.

"Captain, I have a request for additional crew."

Jojorn flicked an ear reflexively. More crew meant more rations, pay, and less storage as the new crewmembers would need a bunk - their current crew berthing was a single room, and sharing bunks was the norm. "I'm not inclined to take on anyone. We are eight, a strong number. That has been sufficient since we were first joined."

"We are doing well enough. Eight is enough, but what happens when we are seven? Or six? Accidents happen, falls, spills. If even one member of the crew is unconscious, we are crippled."

"How many do you think we require?"

"Four more should suffice. When we return to Hurdop, we can petition Grandmother Jetti for the mature hands." Saifex paused. "The Freelord has a doctor who never visits engineering, and an engineer who never sees medical."

There was another earflick as Jojorn considered it - it did make sense, however the body was a system and engineers knew systems. "I will take counsel with Yorkime in this. Perhaps there are available folks at the Legion home base."

___________

Moncilat Prime, Exquisite Jade City Peace Artisan Station

Gryzzk looked at the holding cells currently filled with what were theoretically responsible adults all pointing at a large number of bounty hunters as if 'they started it' was an affirmative defense. As Gryzzk recalled, that stopped being valid at approximately three years of age. Gryzzk pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating how nice the galaxy was not half an hour ago.

The bounty hunters were in similar form, jeering at the company as if the company hadn't tied knots in their collective fur. Epithets and insults being hurled back and forth seemed to be the norm. Overall the Peace Apprentice was very nervous as she contemplated the possibility of a mini-riot on her hands.

Gryzzk beckoned the officer down to his level so they could speak quietly. "Is there a way to separate the...groups? I can keep my charges in check - however I cannot make a similar surety for those not of my company. And there is a possibility that an insult may land poorly."

A headshake was his reply. "There is only one main exit; there are emergency exits, but they are not in an efficient location."

Gryzzk sighed softly. "Very well. Is it possible to pay a fine in advance of an act committed? I expect that this is not going to be a smooth release."

The apprentice looked at the cells, finally nodding. "It is not a standard procedure, but yes."

"I think we can both agree that we're not dealing with a standard day."

There was a rapid nod. "It...yes."

The outprocessing was only slowed once as a Hurdop bounty hunter spat at Captain Wilson as the captain shuffled forward in line. "Your food's bland, Terran!"

Everyone around the chef froze as the very large and muscular Terran turned to lock eyes with the one who had just made an error. "Who dat. Who dat say cajun bland?"

"Bland. Flat. Tasteless!" The insulter moved closer to the bars of his sphere after seeing that his barb had landed.

A respectful circle was promptly made as Wilson inched forward, tapping the bars experimentally. "You say that now. Safe as a mudbug behind those bars, nursing a shoulder that your kin just put back inna socket. You say that cause you watching a hell of a payday walk out the door. You mad, I get it. But watch your words, cause you just had the bad hoodoo to say that to a chef. A chef what's also an officer. As an officer, I sets an example for my troops. I tell 'em allll the time, 'Any chef worth the name has their own knives to hand everywhere they go, cause there's always gonna be a time when a knife is needed.' So ask yourself and be honest with yourself. Where you think I got my knife?"

The silence was reply enough, and Wilson huffed a soft satisfaction. As he approached the out-processing desk, Gryzzk lowered his voice. "Captain, kindly tell me you don't have a knife currently in your possession."

"Mama Wilson didn't raise no liars, sir." The chef grinned brightly. "Don't fear none. It's a food knife."

Gryzzk shook his head. "That does not ease my concern, Captain."

Fortunately, the rest of the out-processing proceeded smoothly - or as smoothly as herding a large number of somewhat sober mercenaries could be. As the last of the current residents exited, two officers came in with Kiole and the armory squad. Gryzzk simply made a motion to the end of the line, tamping his concern down as much as he possibly could.

Finally the outprocessing was completed and Gryzzk was left staring awkwardly at the poor officer who had spent a great deal of her day dealing with a borderline violent mob.

"If you'll pardon me, Major - there are four more individuals attached who require out-processing."

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"Associated with my company?"

"Yes. Two of them claim to be sergeants of your company, while the other two are parents of one of the sergeants. They were not arrested for violent acts."

Gryzzk's heart sank slightly. "Very well. Please escort me to them."

It was something of an oddity as Gryzzk walked to the last cell. Delia and Charles were cuddling on a seat that was only large enough for one while their pantsless daughter was resolutely not looking in their direction. Edwards, on the other hand seemed quite amused by the spectacle. Their cell appeared to be the only one that had any manner of seating available.

Gryzzk had to blink a few times as he regarded the Reillys. "Sergeant Reilly, what precisely happened?"

"Public indecency." Reilly's scent seemed off in some way - like she was embarrassed about something.

"Not you, your parents."

Reilly scowled. "Like I said, public indecency."

Delia stood, dusting herself off slightly and straightening her clothes. "Major it was a - a celebration of a successful job, bringing art to a safe place for the enjoyment of all. Then in celebration, Jenassa and I sang a little duet, and afterward there was such an air of exuberance from the crowd that there was nothing but the moment and Charles." She and Charles held the cloying scent of intimacy low about themselves, along with an undefinable scent that Gryzzk associated with youth - as his mind processed this, he decided he didn't need to know more.

Their was a grimace from the younger Reilly as she seemed to agree. "Please don't ask any more questions sir. Pretty please? Like, it's bad enough to have the police report. I do not need to know any details of what my parents were doing in the dressing room hallway after we did our song thing."

Delia had a mischievous look on her face that was somehow familiar. "Well, perhaps it's time I had a child by...chance."

Reilly looked horrified, waving her arms. "No, no-no-no. Nope. Don't need proof, I got the police report!"

Gryzzk glanced over to Edwards. "I understand why they're here. But you?"

Edwards looked a little embarrassed herself. "Well, when the cops arrived, I might have gone to the back and tried to kill the power to allow them to get out. I guess interfering with local power systems without a license is a thing."

"It would seem so. You may need to improve your knowledge. As I recall, your general shore duties are to keep Reilly out of jail." Gryzzk sighed, glancing up at the Peace Apprentice. "If you could, remand them to my care. I'm sure you have other duties to attend to."

Both of the Reilly women earned additional fines on the way back as they were catcalled by the bounty hunters and responded by simultaneously flashing the bounty hunters. This caused absolute silence as the bounty hunters tried to process what had happened and also caused both of the women to look at each other as if the other wasn't supposed to do that.

Gryzzk briefly weighed the pros and cons of disavowing them on the spot.

Finally everyone was aboard and headed back to the ship, and Gryzzk moved himself to the co-pilot's seat - not because he had any intent of flying, but because he needed the comm access. He tapped. Tapped again. And realized he was making an utter hash of it. finally he slid back to his spot, motioning to Reilly.

"I would very much like a channel to the entire company please, Sergeant. And if you can do so without violating any norms of morality I would greatly appreciate it."

The channel was duly opened, and Gryzzk cleared his throat. "Company, this is Freelord Major Gryzzk. I know that shore leave ended in a disappointing manner for most of you; we do still have thirty-six hours before our optimal exit alignment. However, this particular job has brought us more than a few stories for our ancestors." He paused. "In recognition of that I will be relaxing the intoxication standard for the first twenty-four of those hours, provided that it is done so in moderation. Note to Captain Gregg-Adams; Kifab's rum is not to be distributed under any circumstance. You have all done quite well, and I congratulate you. That is all."

After signing off, Gryzzk took a breath. "Am I going to regret this choice?"

There was a slight snort from O'Brien. "Nae. I'll pass the word to the sergeants that you have a concern for your charges."

"As long as the jousting remains confined to the armory and the common areas are filled with clothed people, I will be content. I will also be looking forward to receiving reports from each section that will elaborate on the voluminous official constabulary reports." Gryzzk exhaled softly, regarding his charges with a calm air. He was mildly thankful that Larion was the only one who could tell that he wasn't entirely displeased by the action; it seemed that every job tightened the bonds on the ship. While there was still 'them' and 'us'; the boundary line had shifted from Vilantian/Hurdop/Terran/Moncilat to Legion/not-Legion - and from the reports on his tablet it seemed that sorrow, woe, and concussions were on the table for the not-Legion who decided that violence was in order.

Once Gryzzk was back on board, his first sight was the XO. Rosie's bright and cheery expression meant there was more trouble on the horizon.

"Freelord! We've made a discovery with respect to biology."

"Is this more important than Corporal Kiole's condition?" Gryzzk lifted an eyebrow in curiousity.

"Distinctly - Kiole's fine. It's also hilarious. Well, maybe not for U'wekrupp and Yomios. You wanna maybe see for yourself?"

"I'd rather not."

"Oh, so I'll just tell you. So apparently when a Moncilat lady gets a tap in the happy place juuuust right, they kinda sorta lock in for awhile."

"...Which means..."

"Well, Yomios is currently claws-deep in U'wekrupp's booty cheeks until the muscle relaxers kick in."

"Don't they have...gloves, for just such an occasion?"

"They do. Funny story, they don't help for these sorta things."

"Are they in medical?" Gryzzk began moving toward the medbay.

"Pump the brakes. Would you want to try carrying a pair of butt-nekkid folks in the middle of their best day ever if you didn't have to?" Rosie smirked. "They're in the Moncilat quarters. Miroka and Hoban are on the bridge calibrating a few things until the fur's a little flatter. According to doc, about twenty minutes."

"I don't need any additional information. Will they be ready for duty tomorrow?"

"If they're not, they're both going to Valhalla smiling. Kiole's in your quarters."

Gryzzk shook his head at the madness of the mercenary life as he went to the bridge. It felt like the price for an efficient well-trained crew was the occasional visit to the local police station. He was definitely going to have to inquire to confirm if this company was indeed in the necessary balance.

He walked to the bridge to see Hoban and Miroka having a theoretical discussion of the best methods for an orbital exit. They were deep into the linguistics of the profession to the point that Gryzzk was simply going to let them continue the discussion.

In his quarters, Gro'zel was tending to Kiole as they both sat on the floor cushion where Gryzzk had been watching the football match - Gryzzk's wife was all but covered in bandage foam, and Gro'zel was giving instructions while industriously adding one more touch over Kiole's left eye.

"...and you will need to rest. Tomorrow we're going to be going to go home, and Mama is going to want to see you and Papa safe. So you need to keep the bandages on, and rest with Papa." Gro'zel finished the bandaging and went over to Gryzzk. "Papa, I'm going to go see what everyone else is doing." She gave Gryzzk a hug and then took off rapidly knowing that this was Adult Talk time.

Gryzzk's concern was evident as soon as Gro'zel left. "The baby?"

"Is fine." Kiole smiled softly. "I received training in self-defense specifically for pregnant women every year when I was in the Navy."

"The others?"

"Also fine - from what I understood, every squad placed the pregnant women in a defensive circle."

Gryzzk's shoulders relaxed a bit. "I dislike saying such things, but perhaps we should investigate bringing your training into the standard hand-to-hand regimen for when others become pregnant."

"Captains Garrett and Robau will be presenting a full training plan once we hit R-space."

Gryzzk relaxed further as he settled on the floor-cushion. "I am pleased to hear that. We may be paying out a great deal to the local government as a result of our...high spirits. And Sergeant Reilly and her mother appear to have found equilibrium. Normally I would be pleased by this, however in this instance it may be a reason for concern on the way home."

Kiole leaned into him. "You worry too much. There is a simple truth to what happened today. We are wanted because we are good, and the fact that nobody is on charge of homicide is proof of that. The navy has a saying, 'No battle-tested ship has ever passed inspection, and no inspection-ready ship ever won a battle.' It didn't stop them from trying to make us ready for inspection." She nuzzled his ear, whispering softly. "And I see that someone missed me while I was out with my squad."

Gryzzk moved the pillow guiltily. "I - well...yes. Your scent is calming to me."

Kiole's warm smile was a balm of sorts. "Now you see the reason for certain Naval regulations. So. What were you doing when Rosie interrupted, hm?"

"Watching a football match - Elsife Village United was tied with Throne City after the first."

"That sounds like something to watch." From Kiole's scent, it was obvious that she wasn't particularly interested in the match, rather she wanted to lounge with her husband. "Certainly far better than watching two groups of bounty hunters fighting us and each other over who got to take us into custody, and then having the local police show up and have the whole scene quickly devolve before we could completely educate them on their erroneous plans." There was a musical laugh, signaling a memory coming to the fore. "It reminded me of when we were on shore leave years ago; Momoe, Vuesta, and myself got into a fight with crew from other ships and were doing quite well until the Shore Police arrived. We were on extra duties because we had beaten the hell out of our Army colleagues, but only two days of extra duty because we had acquitted ourselves nicely." She stretched languidly before settling into his side.

"Are you truly well?"

There was a little smile. "I am here with you. Gro'zel heard that I had been hurt and wanted to help. Only some minor bruising along my knuckles and I think I wrenched my knee."

Gryzzk stood up, heading for the printer. "Then I...will be getting snacks and drinks for us both, and then we can hopefully watch the rest of the match - what do you prefer?"

"Whatever you think good. Just one question, Twilight Warrior."

"Yes?"

Kiole gestured to his formal uniform. "Are you going to continue to wear that?"

"Are you going to continue to wear the bandage foam?"

"I think it has done its job. We should wash it off, and then find new snacks that we may like." Kiole rose and went to the bathroom nook.

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