Vilantia Prime, Grand Warrior Pub
Gryzzk leaned back against the bar, canting his head slightly. "Reilly, I'm sure you have a valid reason for asking me this?"
Reilly looked down at her drink and adjusted the pants around her neck slightly as her eyes darted to the large-for-a-Vilantian Mitira, and then back to Gryzzk with her expression not darkening, but turning serious. "well, really it's kinda...obvious."
It took a moment for all the particulars to valiantly fight their way through Fort Drunkengryzzk to the keep where the functioning brain cells were able to make the connection. "Oh! ...oh." Gryzzk leaned toward Mitira and took a long slow inhale with closed eyes before sitting back thoughtfully. Mitira seemed earnest enough. Physically he seemed to be some sort of laborer, and it was obvious that he has been introduced to tequila courtesy of Reilly.
There was a bit of anxiety in Reilly's posture. Finally she slammed back her drink. "Well?"
"He has bathed recently."
Gryzzk's reward for his honesty was a scowl as Reilly swayed left and right. "Sir...this is awkward on a couple levels. Work with me here."
He held up a hand to forestall further unhappiness from the sergeant, with words coming out slow and measured. "I understand what you're trying to accomplish. But this isn't quite the right time, and I am certainly in no frame of mind for sound judgment." As if to prove his point, Gryzzk hiccuped once. "It is possible that there is someone for Mitira within the company. But the choices you're asking me to make are not choices that should be made intoxicated."
"So when?"
"Is this time-critical?"
Reilly looked to the door. "Yeah. Not here, though. Please?"
He nodded. "Outside, then?"
Reilly slipped away wordlessly, leaving Mitira to stand with hands in pockets and apparently wondering what was happening next.
As soon as they turned a corner, Reilly's demeanor changed, walking with a weight of sorts. As she sipped at her mug her scent shifted to concern, keeping her eyes alert for interlopers.
"Listen, Maje. Not gonna lie, there's things about you-all that scare me. You do stuff, and you're fast. Like, I mean. Y'know?" She exhaled upward, blowing her hair about. "Lomeia needs a husband. And I mean, I don't mind it, I even know it but it's like...y'all go from 0 to R-space in a heartbeat with the wedding business." Her eyes darted about as a waterfall of words fell from Reilly's mouth. "And that scares me. Well ninety-eight percent excited but two percent scared. Or maybe the other way around but it's intense and that's what makes it neat. Like...I mean it's fast. Like usually I'd be three relationships past Lomeia by now cause I move too fast for people but now I found someone who wants to move faster than me."
Reilly's free hand danced expressively as she continued. "I want to stick with her and be a good wife but there's no well, we're not making kids. And y'all need that. So. I gotta help her, but I'd like a little say in it. Like if you lose, she goes back and her dad slaps her with whoever smells good to him and...I don't wanna think about that. I mean at least with you, I mean you're not gonna push." She rubbed the back of her head with her free hand. "But still. So fast." There was a final glance around. "But he's cute, and we kinda need fast here. But that might be the tequila talking."
Reilly's blur of words made Gryzzk have to think for a long moment - he felt like he'd missed something important. "Well, I suppose with an observation like that, perhaps some time is warranted. So with that said - why are you talking to me?"
Reilly paused, thinking it over for a moment. "Y'know...s'not a bad idea. I should go find him."
"We should. I mean...if you're looking at him as a potential husband for Lomeia, I'd like to at least have a conversation."
"Well, I mean not to be greedy but I might be looking for a little...uhm...well..." Reilly smiled a bit and turned toward the door again.
"Reilly, our XO continually punishes me with facts I have no desire to know. Do not join her in this hobby." Gryzzk flicked his eyes downward to see a flash of purple covering Reilly's rear. "Any more than you already have."
The two rounded the corner to see a second fight boiling out the doorway - this time it was mostly Vilantians. At least at the start. He noticed Velons and his tablemates giving the group of youths that Kiole had pointed out earlier a sound drubbing - the Vilantians were followed in quick succession by Larion, Mitira, and the entirety of the bridge squad, with O'Brien being the last one out, holding up a warning finger to someone still in the bar.
"...And anyone else wants to join this dramatic re-enactment of the Kerfluffle form yourselves into an orderly queue and wait until we've each had two rounds minimum!" So saying the sergeant major turned and dove into the pile fists-first.
Gryzzk and Reilly leaped in to join their squad without hesitation - whatever other questions they had were set to the side as they joined the melee. Between the numbers and training the bridge squad made overall quick work of their five opponents, though the intoxication levels involved ensured that they were not unscathed. In a near echo of Gryzzk's fight at Rick's, Laroy had a broken nose, Reilly's shoulder was dangling, and Gryzzk had what was going to be an epic bruise forming over the right side of his face. And like the events of Rick's, the losers were gently placed on the ground as medical and security personnel were summoned to attend to them.
Once it was over, Gryzzk looked around. "Someone please tell me what that was about? I would like to have an explanation for Kiole when we return."
O'Brien stopped working her tongue around her mouth for a moment. "Funny story, kinda started with her. Those lads saw her shoulders and ink and they called her a...well, m'translator errored out. Something like Vize-po-bida. Then they got all fussy and wanted to have words, and then more than words and we wound up here."
Reilly cleared her throat. "Probably Vizhpubida."
Gryzzk scrunched his face at the term, speaking carefully around the bellyful of booze. "Sergeant, good language skills, dreadful enunciation." He paused, considering. "Loosely, it is someone who is considered graceless in their attempts to ascend to nobility through a series of marriages."
"Huh." O'Brien took in the new education casually as she finished checking herself for injuries. "Good news is Kiole didn't catch any hurt. Bad news is she wanted to. You married a mustang, Major."
Reilly glanced at the clock. "Worse news, we only got time for one more round before they kick us out."
They made it a good one, and they left with Reilly leading the squad in a drinking song of sorts. On the way to their carriage it seemed as if Larion was becoming less of an outsider. He was given gentle punches, small insults, and managed to return them in kind a few times. Mitira by contrast was an outsider brought along by the will of Reilly, and at the port communications were established for future discussion. It was odd thing to experience as they were led by the only sober individual among them. Gryzzk vaguely recalled checking his plants before falling asleep.
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In the morning, Gryzzk's bed and head were both full. Kiole was settled on his bed looking patiently bemused with tea and some sort of concoction in a tumbler.
"You have two hours. Lodora has graciously accepted Rosie's invitation for lunch here, Captain Williams will be cooking something he calls Cajun chicken pasta. It seems that his family history pairs well with our food. The sergeant major advises that this" she indicated the tumbler, "is a restorative, and the doctors agree that you should avoid headbutting any individuals for a few days."
"What's in it?"
"Brandy, painkillers, a splash of Laroy's hot sauce, and a raw egg."
"That doesn't sound restorative. It actually sounds like something that has a betting board with odds attached to it."
"Terrans are strange." Kiole nuzzled his ear as Gryzzk forced himself to drink. "Now hurry - you need to shower and dress. Fortunately, the XO has taken it upon herself to advise our passengers that we will be staying beyond our contracted timeframe here due to a family matter."
Gryzzk groaned softly. "Rosie, what was their reaction?"
The door opened just enough for Rosie to project her head through. "They're thrilled, Freelord. Apparently the challenge is an event of sorts, and they are marshaling recorders and such among their many stops across the planet. Delia has been somewhat cagey regarding specifics, but her social postings have taken on a bit of a tease. It seems Delia has a level of influence in some way."
"Well, as long as the Ministry of Culture isn't placing the crew on lockdown."
"The ministry is showing itself divided - the company seems to have a habit of getting arrested by the Cultural Affairs enforcers and then immediately released after a brief period with 'clerical error' being cited as the reason. If I didn't know better I'd say we're being hassled by The Man."
Gryzzk exhaled, tipping his head back to force the contents of the tumbler down his throat and regretted it almost immediately. "I think this is becoming ship's business, and I should not be abed for such things."
Kiole's eyes and scent began to sparkle. "As your wife, I will assist in any way necessary." She cleared the breakfast tray and led Gryzzk to to the shower.
Rosie snorted. "Just remember, you can have your eyes on the puck or on your wife's ass. Not both." So saying, she withdrew from the room.
A respectable time later, Gryzzk emerged to the bridge feeling somewhat restored. He wasn't certain how the interview was going to go, but he was at least a bit less mentally fuzzed. He wasn't wearing his uniform, but he was dressed with a casual professionalism - the only Terran affectation he had was his Stetson.
Gryzzk was feeling almost normal by the time Lodora's shuttle docked. Along with Gryzzk, Kiole and Gro'zel stood calmly at the hatch.
"I hope I am presentable." Gryzzk checked himself one last time as the hatch cycled, a thousand thoughts competing in his mind. He should have been in his quarters yesterday, preparing himself for the debate and the interview. Instead he had taken the day and spent it with his family and the evening with his bridge squad.
There was a small part of his mind that advised this may have been what the Terrans meant when they said 'Worth it.'
Still, there was nothing but to work through what was coming. The hatch cycled, and Lodora boarded with a pair of recording drones. It was odd, but she had a slight apprehension to her scent. It seemed as if there was more to this.
Gryzzk stepped back gesturing slightly. "Lodora. It's a pleasure to have you aboard. I know that our time is short, but I would like to give a short tour of the ship before lunch, if such is agreeable?"
Lodora smiled gently. "Of course. Perhaps a fuller picture would be appreciated."
Gro'zel walked up to Lodora smartly, offering a small pin. "On behalf of the Twilight Rose I want to give you a special pin that we give to our visitors and friends." She then stepped back and breathed out softly. "You're even prettier than you are on the holos."
Lodora smiled easily. "Why thank you Miss Gro'zel." She took a knee and unclasped the pin. "I may need some assistance putting it on properly."
Gro'zel beamed at the chance to help, carefully affixing it to Lodora's collar. "But I'm not a Miss, I'm a Lieutenant Junior Grade like my sister."
Lodora looked up curiously toward Gryzzk, who filled in the details. "Well, our company has inherited traditions from many places. One of the Terran traditions is that of the Morale Officer. Normally the positions are held by a device called Ensign Stabby - a device that I must confess seems to have no purpose other than to assault ankles - and Ensign Jonesy, held by a Terran animal. A ship's pet, as it were."
"Ah. Will your...XO? Be joining us?"
There was a soft chuckle as Gryzzk began moving through the ship. "Well, yes and no. The XO is also the ship so Rosie is here, in a manner of speaking. But if you mean her projection specifically, I believe that is currently in Engineering. Going there is rare, even for me."
Gro'zel giggled. "She's with her boyfriend Chief Tucker. Chief said that it's a no-go-zone, so we should go to the dayroom. It's a lot nicer there."
Lodora cocked her head. "How does that...happen?"
Gryzzk grimaced as he realized the cameras were rolling for this. "Well. Our ship is...unusual. The AI was formed from personality aspects of the original ship's company, and heavy among those aspects was a desire for companionship. I like to think it helps us all make good decisions - keeping Rosie happy and intact is a priority."
"Well, I have heard that being on a ship can cause some unusual partnerships." Shoes were removed prior to their entry into the dayroom, and Lodora seemed taken aback at this. "The...grass? I thought I smelled it, but I was uncertain."
Gro'zel piped up. "It was me and my sister Nhoot's idea. Nhoot never felt grass until Papa took her to Vilantia so when we got back to fix Rosie after the war we put grass in because it feels nice. And it tickles when it gets between our toes." Her voice saddened. "I miss grass from our old home."
Lodora looked to Gryzzk. "Have you considered Greatlord Aa'Lafione's offer?"
Now it was Gryzzk's turn to be confused. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with any specific offer. Apologies but the past day has been a busy one."
"Ah. Well, he has hinted at an offer to join your clan with his upon his victory. Would you be willing to consider it?"
Gryzzk paused before shaking his head. "The Greatlord is generous - but I do not feel such a thing would be proper. The...well, the freeclan has many members - not all of whom are entirely familiar with the Clan Way and some who are overly familiar with it."
"Is this a bad thing? Unusual words to hear."
Before he answered, Gryzzk walked over to the centerpiece of the dayroom. "The Clan Way is highly dependent on certain things. Thirty-three generations ago, this weapon served Clan Tebul well. Now the chief Clan of War has fallen far, and its weapon graces us with its honored presence. It is uncleaned intentionally. To remind everyone that doing what is right sometimes requires bloodshed - and that blood may be yours. Were I a strict adherent to the Clan Way, I would have died several times over. Were I a strict adherent to the Clan Way, I would have rejected Kiole as my secondwife and she would not be carrying our child."
Gryzzk rolled the spear over in his hands, feeling the weight of it.
"I think the Clan Way has been a good and faithful steward of the Vilantian people for a very long time. But I think that there are elements that require an examination with modern eyes. I know this will not earn me favor in the noses of some Vilantians. But I believe a middle ground can be found without bloodshed. I believe that middle ground is being found. It is not set, but it exists. It exists in the minds of the peoples of Vilantia. Those who call me Freelord affectionately do so out of recognition for deeds. Those who call me so as an insult - they still recognize and acknowledge the title, and that recognition of existence has meaning. By telling the commons that there is a path that they may, they may choose."
Lodora listened to all this without comment, and Gryzzk's fur flared when he realized he'd been monologuing.
"Apologies, Lodora. I sometimes ramble." He replaced the clan spear carefully, making certain that the streamers attached hung properly.
There was an easy smile of sorts by way of reply.
"Don't worry. I do have questions for Kiole and Gro'zel, if they don't mind?" With no immediate objection, Lodora pressed forward. "So Kiole, you are a recent member of the company. Do you feel as if you are treated in an appropriate manner?"
"I do. Certainly far better than the Hurdop Navy." Kiole glanced down. "Being in the navy was wonderful and sad at the same time. We were fighting for what was right. But as part of that fight, we had to leave things behind. I left many friends, and part of my arm. But this is because that was."
She gestured with her left hand.
"On Hurdop the gods do not bless us without cursing us first. After all the loss, now I have a husband, a Freelord. I have an artificial arm that serves almost as well as the one it replaces. When I am not serving with my husband as our job, I have four wonderful children to care for."
"What's the hardest part of your job?"
Kiole smiled sadly. "Remembering that Vilantians aren't the demons from my nightmares. I still think it sometimes when I'm angry."
Gryzzk cleared his throat. "I think that we have taken over the day room enough for the moment. Let's head for the mess hall. Our head cook is anxious to try something new - he likes cooking spicy foods, so cooking for us is a test of sorts."
Gro'zel took Lodora's hand cheerfully.
"We like Captain Wilson," she lowered her voice conspiratorially "but his cookies aren't as good as Mama's."
"Well then, I will have to ask him a few questions as well." Lodora smiled genially, but her scent had shifted; the apprehension from earlier was returning strongly.
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