Vilantia Prime - In the time of the First Generation
The Throne sat in her camp-chair on the raised dais in her tent, watching supplicants and glory-seekers alike mill about in shameless attempts to curry favor while urgent communications were sent and the final pockets of resistance cleared. The war had ended well, though it hadn't always seemed like it would. The debris fields orbiting around Vilantia Prime were such that the sages were predicting an ill harvest unless they were cleared as rapidly as possible. This and a thousand more decisions needed to be made. Finally the night grew to deepest dark, and all the decisions that were left could wait for the dawn. She looked to one of her runners, a youth barely clear of his baby-fur.
"Send for Lord A'Gryzzk." The Lord seemed to have been blessed by the gods with his war-wisdom, and it was time for a proper reward.
It took some time, but when the summoned Lord arrived he knelt and lifted his gaze to the top of the tent. His battle armor shone brightly but bore the marks of a hundred battles and thousands of skirmishes.
"Be at ease. Walk with me." The Throne left the dais smoothly, her robes whispering along her fur as she walked toward her most private chamber, where only two stood guard. A'Gryzzk followed silently, stopping as soon as she sat.
"I have a question for you, Lord A'Gryzzk. 'Why are we here?' Take your time."
There was a pause before the Lord spoke. "Some would say for honor or glory. Others would say it is so that we may have two bases at each end of a box canyon. In truth..." There was a soft chuff. "we are here for power, Highness."
"Power. Indeed. And now that we have turned the west to dead waste and ash, now that my brother's forces flee the system to never be seen again, what shall we do with it?"
"You will rule justly, remembering those who rose with you to fight the clans of the west who demanded we yield and accept a pauper's wage to grind in the factories." A'Gryzzk stopped speaking of what they both knew. "Apologies, my lady."
There was a lilting smile. "You have no need to apologize. I have a boon to give you." She placed wine at both their sides with a casual air. When the lord remained silent, she continued. "Gather your clan, and we will go to Dawn City where they build a palace. You will live there and take service as my Throneguard. You have peers but no equals and I would have that be known by all."
A'Gryzzk's expression looked pained for a moment as he remained silent.
"Lord A'Gryzzk, did your last meal cause you ill?"
The reply was thick and hesitant. "With all my heart lady, I beg that you take this from my nose."
"I ask why. This request is reasonable, your glories are known and heralded. You are my finest, A'Gryzzk. None would argue my decision. Which would be a rare thing." The Throne paused with a wry smile. "It seems the more power I have, the less I wield."
"My clan. Where twelve once stood at the beginning of this, I now only take the scent of three. Those that remain gaze upon hands bloodied with the work of killing enemies and burying heroes. My clan has a single heart now, and that heart is to find a red field and make it green. Let those who desire to be our wives and husbands come to that field and see that we can make more than corpses. I beg of you, let us put aside our swords and plasma-slingers."
A'Gryzzk seemed to almost shrink in the chair as memories came to the fore. "Let Vilantia forget that we were ever warriors. Let the banner that strikes fear to our enemies be furled, lest those who desire war come to our door with the howls of blood. Let me set this armor aside to gather dust in a forgotten corner so that in ages to come the historians will only know that this was once important to someone." He took a deep drink from the goblet to chase away a memory.
"What of your sword? Shall Anrhunil lie to rust and ruin because it's master has turned his heart to the tilled land?"
"It's a simple life. But it is what we crave. Let the Flame of the East pass to the hand of one who can still see a battlefield free of ghosts." A'Gryzzk looked far older than his years as he spoke.
The Throne considered, her posture shifting forward slightly. "If it pleases you, it will be the inheritance of the Ministry of War."
"Aa'tebul is a fine general, Lady. I hope the sword rests easy in his hand. Let my name pass and be forgotten."
There was a snort. "Aa'tebul can hold a sword at the proper end if he is given three attempts to do so. He is a politician." The Throne finished her wine and toyed with the goblet for a moment. "I will grant this, but to take your name from history will require no small effort. You ask to set your armor aside, and I grant you this request if it is done immediately."
"My lady?" A'Gryzzk cocked his head in confusion even as his hands worked the catches, leaving him only in a singlet.
"For Vilantia to flourish, we must have heirs." There was a pause before the Throne spoke, her voice low. "I must have an heir. For this night and two more, we will turn our thoughts to a child to be raised in the cage our artisans craft to look like a palace. Our child will take both husband and wife, to be seen by all of Vilantia as theirs - the errors of my parents must not be repeated. At this time next year, I will summon you for three more nights. That child will be yours to raise in the field of hard-won freedom, unless an ill befalls the first."
"My lady, I fear this body will not be pleasing to share. There are scars..."
"And what you see before you is such a fine thing, hm?" The Throne's robe pooled at her feet and she turned herself in a slow circle, revealing the marks of torture both back and front. "This night I would lay with a kindred soul, not just a warm body." She reached for his hands first and then his undergarment, pulling A'Gryzzk toward a mound of soft furs. "If I cannot have you at my side, I will have our child to remind me of you. In the morning, we will speak of a field that needs a farmer's touch."
The guards pretended to not notice the sounds that passed through the tent-flap.
___________
Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose, Tosche Station
Gryzzk relaxed a bit as Rosie appeared - shutting down her holo-emitter had given him far more concern than he'd originally anticipated. "XO, we will be tending to you shortly. We may require local aid to maintain our schedule, so post some bid requests on the localgrid. Advise that there will be a bonus for rapid work done well. Close the bidding once Chief Tucker is awake and has finished his second coffee." He leaned back heavily in his command chair. "Squad, secure stations and...and go to bed. Dismissed."
It was a testament to how long they'd been awake and under stress that the bridge squad didn't race out, but simply nodded and trudged out to their respective quarters. Gryzzk settled in with his tablet and began taking full stock of what was needed. The list was long.
The Twilight Rose had been built to be sturdy and a Terran touch had made improvements, but at the same time few ships were built to withstand the current situation. The entire aft port section was going to need to be sealed and vented for superstructure repairs, new hull plating needed to be brought in and secured properly.
It seemed fortunate that most of the company had healed enough to be on the surface recuperating in the traditional manner. Either that or keeping mercenaries away from drink and 'meaningful overnight relationships' would have required far greater damage to their bodies. He did have two pieces of personal business to conduct on Hurdop. He wasn't entirely sure how the others would react, but it was going to be something of interest. He went to his quarters and took out the second bottle of wine and a piece of bark that he'd been given not so very long ago and was pleased to see both still intact as he set them on his desk.
Gro'zel and Kiole both came into his quarters - their expressions seemed concerned as they entered.
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"This is...unusual."
Kiole smiled softly. "The ship is docked and safe. We are here to claim our right as family."
"I fear you may both be quite bored for some time, as I am...a bit tired, at the moment. I did want to ask something of you. When I waken, I was going to go to the surface." Gryzzk paused. "I have a promise to keep. To an old friend."
Gro'zel looked at the bottle and frowned. "But Papa, Lord A'Kifab was...he took your Name, and Mama's. And mine."
"He did. He has also spent a great deal of time in sorrow for that. He knew he was hurting us but he thought that a good thing would happen for many more people if that happened. He knows he made a grave error, and I think..." Gryzzk paused, his eyes growing heavy. "I think there is a weight in his heart that can only be lifted by us." He laid back on the bed, part of his mind luxuriating in the softness.
Gro'zel clambered onto the bed. "It hurt. He took all my clothes. It was cold, Mama's feet hurt until one of her old clan stopped and took us to the spaceport. She couldn't tell him what happened."
Kiole settled on the other side of Gro'zel. "You should tell him this. But first, we should make sure someone gets the rest they need." She looked over to Gryzzk, who was already snoring softly.
When Gryzzk awoke, there was warmth at both of his sides, but as he stirred, both Kiole and Gro'zel moved with him, moving slowly.
"Is it...morning?" Kiole moved slowly off the bed. "It feels like morning."
"I am uncertain, Lady Warrior." Gryzzk moved to check his tablet. "According to the ship, it is mid-afternoon. We've been asleep for some time."
Kiole chuffed. "It felt like I was back aboard the Lord A'Pruance for a day. But we never had a ship fuse to ours."
Gro'zel stretched slowly, moving slowly off the bed to go to her own quarters. "..Haffa potty..."
Gryzzk stepped into his private bathroom and started the shower. A few minutes passed and Kiole joined him.
"Lady warrior, I have a request for later."
"Mmm...is this the request of a husband or a major?"
"Major Gryzzk requests that you make your way to Docking Control with Gro'zel. Your name is known there, and it seems that there are some who would be pleased to take in your scent as well."
There was a soft hmph. "It seems that your glories are mine here. I shall have to be proper. We'll go there...soon." She paused. "Delia is not well. She tries to hide it, but her scent changes around me and her daughter. Every spare moment Gro'zel has had is spent with her. They sing and tell stories to each other."
"Are you telling this as my wife or my Corporal?"
"Yes." Even under the spray, Gryzzk could smell mild amusement. Well, this was a game that two could play.
"Understood, lady warrior. Shall I call upon her now, or would you like me to wash your back first?"
"Oh, I think washing my back is a priority at the moment." Kiole's scent sparkled as she leaned into him.
When the two were both finally washed, dried, and had properly combed out their fur Gryzzk settled on comfortable clothing for his first visit. If he was going to have to face consequences, he would at least be comfortable.
He knocked on Delia's door with a calm he didn't quite feel as he entered warily. Delia's scent rose and fell while the menfolk exuded a tense, wary fear as they read from their tablets. Charles was absently humming a soft melody, filling the room with an attempt at calm. The room itself seemed to have a scent that was heavily chocolate-based, which didn't exactly thrill him. Gryzzk found an empty space and sat down closely to Delia before lacing his hands together.
"Delia, I feel I must apologize for the incident the other day. I...should have insisted that you remain aboard until the other ship was fully cleared."
Delia was silent for a moment, absently stroking Gryzzk's forearm as soon as he sat down. "Well. I should say so. That was a very unkind thing that you did, and I am glad you were finally able to take time out of what was certainly a busy schedule of sitting in your chair to see how your employer was reacting to listening to her little girl speak casually about shooting through her before said little girl's helmet turned an absolutely tasteless shade of red and gray. Then being mauled, manhandled, carried like a common parcel by that...that enlisted you call a wife!" Delia's scent became a tornado of conflict while she continued her tirade. "And the flooring, the molding on the ceiling! Whoever designed that interior should be shot and -" Delia froze as the word tumbled from her mouth. Her hand gripped Gryzzk's arm with a desperate strength.
Gryzzk turned, reaching up carefully to move a stray lock of hair away from Delia while Charles changed the pitch and tune of his humming to something a touch more gentle. Gryzzk paused for a moment to listen to the tune before he spoke. "I don't quite understand what you're saying, and I am no counselor. But if you have questions, I will answer them as best I can."
"Chastity. She said such...such things. How could she?! I'm her mother! How do you even consider such a thing?" Delia's grip relaxed, moving unconsciously to pet Gryzzk's forearm. From Delia's scent, it seemed as if the movement calmed her, so Gryzzk allowed it before speaking.
"You would have to ask her to be certain - but I believe Jenassa saw Kiole and knew that my wife would need to be closer. So she said what she said in order to keep both of your attentions. If you had known, the deception would not have worked - an unexpected scent from you would have alerted him."
Delia looked at him bleakly. "How. How can you. How can your wife?" Her hand shifted to re-grip on Gryzzk's forearm. "You've both...both done..that, and I heard one of the crew brag about how she's pregnant."
Gryzzk considered for a bare instant before speaking. "Speaking for myself, in the moment I'm not considering what I am taking. It's about what I'm giving. Giving others a choice, a chance that I was denied. Afterwards, when the dreams come, I tell my wives of them. I expect that I will be listening to my wife over the next few nights."
Delia had an expression on her face that seemed to indicate a plan of sorts for a moment until Gryzzk almost felt her emotions lock into place as something else asserted itself. "Well. This has been a productive conversation - I feel I must return the favor somehow. Charles makes the most excellent chocolate bread pudding - you must try it. Chast...Jen..Chastity likes it as well."
Gryzzk shook his head politely. "My apologies, but while chocolate does seem to be a favored thing of the Moncilat and Terrans, for my species it is...unpalatable."
"Such a shame." Delia stood by their chow printer for a few minutes before coming out with an odd-looking dish - it seemed like lumpy bread and chocolate had been mixed somehow. "It's not exactly like Charles makes, but it's still quite nice."
Gryzzk wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, but he did have the spark of an idea. "Well. It is regrettable but duty calls. I believe we both have things to attend to over the next few days. I will ensure a shuttle is reserved for your use as needed. And if I may make a suggestion, the Great Triangle orphanage is a place where there is...precious little apathy." He stood, glancing over at the other two occupants. "If anything is required, please do not hesitate to advise either myself or the XO."
Delia smiled without thinking about it, and it seemed almost performative to Gryzzk's nose. "Of course."
Gryzzk left to find Reilly loitering nearby, sitting with her back against a bulkhead eating a large bowl of her macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. "Maje...you got a sec?" Her scent was unfixed and indecisive, as if there were several things on her mind.
"Reilly...you're..." Gryzzk stopped for a moment.
"So yeah she's my mom, but not my mom and you're more of a dad than Dad and Mom's not gonna like that I think of Mom and Mom as 'Mom' too because she's weird like that or something like Mom's got this thing like 'there can be only one' and she's gonna try some metaphorical decapitation if I can't hold it together and I...can't..." she paused before continuing her torrent of verbs. "So I'm eating comfort food and I bet fifty cred Mom's probably eating Dad's chocolate bread pudding like they're gonna ban it tomorrow because that's her comfort food cause that was all they could afford for a dessert when they were broke and starting out and weren't rich enough to buy designer fetuses to be what they couldn't be. So now what?"
Gryzzk blinked. And blinked again. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow. But if you are asking for suggestions, perhaps you should be having this conversation with your mother."
There was a soft snort as Reilly wolfed down a few spoonfuls of macaroni. "If you could weaponize denial, Mom'd be the most dangerous thing in four sectors."
"But you are both eating your comfort food and speaking to me as if I am privy to your unspoken thoughts." Gryzzk paused for a moment. "You are more like your mother than you care to admit. I think that perhaps for many years you have been talking through each other - a fool's errand, and that talking to each other should be the goal. She is not entirely what you think she is, and you are not what she thinks you are."
Reilly paused, looking down at her bowl and then up to Gryzzk before she wriggled to a standing position. "Okay, I'll try. But...don't go spreading it around - my life's complicated enough." Reilly gave him a peck on the cheek and an ear nuzzle. "Thanks Dad."
Gryzzk wandered back to his cabin in a slight daze, pausing as he looked at the bottle and bark. "XO?"
"Yes, Freelord Major Dad? Or do you prefer Papa?" Rosie's image came onto the tablet looking amused.
"Please set all recordings of my last conversation with Sergeant Reilly to comply with blackbox protocols."
"Awww. But I wanted to torture Reilly with it later when she comes back drunk and pantsless."
"You can torture Reilly in other ways, I am sure. You have the ship, XO."
"I have the ship. Contractors are coming in, ETA seven hours. Don't get too drunk with A'Kifab. He might find you another wife."
Gryzzk hefted the bottle, finally placing it in a satchel. "I do not plan on getting too terribly drunk."
"What you plan and what takes place ain't exactly ever been similar, Freelord."
"Don't remind me. Do you have a locate on Kiole and Gro'zel?"
"They're in Orbital Control. Gro'zel is telling everyone how brave you are and giving out ship pins while Kiole shows off her Terran prosthetic and poses for selfies."
"You say that as if I know where Orbital Control is."
"Indeed. It's not terribly hard to find. The station's still new and the paint hasn't worn off."
"Last question - what time is it on A'kifab's lands?"
"Late afternoon. You might be able to make it for dinner if Hoban flies the shuttle."
"I'd rather be late. Please send them a message that a friend and his family wish to join them for a visit." Gryzzk secured his items in a satchel and headed for the airlock.
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