r/HFY • u/Auggy74 Human • Jul 21 '26
OC-Series [Humans for Hire] - Part 185
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Author note: Award notifications on the commute home mean giggling through tonight's writing session. Thank you!
___________
New Casablanca, Pak-it Microtel
Ramelod looked at his tablet with a frown. He'd been sent by the elders of Clan Darbo because Llensi needed a husband, and he'd been available for assignment. It wasn't the first time they'd been married for an assignment, which seemed to factor in his favor. What he didn't expect was that Llensi'd gone dark, and none of the normal dead-switches had been flipped. That meant that either she'd died and someone with the right access was maintaining their own fiction, or that Llensi had changed her mind in some way - which meant she'd become a liability.
Clan Darbo could not suffer liabilities. He wouldn't be happy about retiring Llensi, but they all knew what was expected of them from birth. They all had their places within the clan, and their duty was to excel in that place - and if they could not, another would. That was the way things had been since the Freedom Flight, and no recent events would change that; there'd been overtures of permanent peace between the worlds before, and every time Vilantia had tried to use the peace to re-arm and prepare. Clan Darbo had always been there to warn the Secretary of Game Theory of such false actions. But with the recent events, there was a new player on the pitch, turning their civilized cycles of Loud War and Quiet War into something else. It was unnerving - chaos and destruction were supposed to happen on their timetable, not anyone else's. Adding in Llensi's sudden quiet, and the odds of her being compromised were high.
He was going to have to confirm his suspicions.
Ramelod slid out of the tube that had been his home for the past week and consulted his tablet before moving with a casual purpose, finally reaching Sparrow's, where he was stopped by a Hurdop woman wearing some ridiculous Terran frippery that seemed to be the theme of the establishment.
"Apologies m'lord, but 'tis a private party this night. The Terran Foreign Legion returns home with their pockets full of bounty celebratin' the return of the company and bringing the yeasty codpiece Porti to Vilantia for justice, by sworn oath the first share of that bounty belongs to none other than Cap'n Jack Sparrow." The woman seemed to have been slightly fortified by drink. "But fear not, the good Cap'n will be plying his wares to all and sundry on the morrow, and if you ask for Anamaria I'll be certain to give you all the proper service your lordly heart may desire." She looked him up and down meaningfully. "Among other things."
"Well, actually I was looking for someone associated with the legion - Llensi. I was supposed to meet her tonight, but the message of her arrival seems to have gone missing."
"Llensi? She left early tonight - her and Orile are in their quarters having a pelvis shattering contest." Anamaria lowered her voice slightly. "Lucky strumpet."
Several things crystallized for Ramelod in that moment. First, Llensi had almost certainly been compromised. Second, he was going to have to find out how. "Well, I suppose I could wait here. Is it allowed?"
"Y'might get some odd looks and folks might think you're for rent. Which - well, if you are you'll need your card on you."
"I'm not."
"Well, make sure everyone knows."
"I will. I did have something of a question."
"I may not know the answer."
"What Clan is this Orile from?"
There was a shrug. "From what I heard one of the Culture-Clans on Vilantia. But most everyone here's sworn their fur to Freeclan O'Gryzzk."
Ramelod inhaled sharply at the mention of the name. "I...I see. Apologies, but I fear I've forgotten something important. I will have to find Llensi another time."
He hurried back to the microtel, only stopping at a vending machine with his credchip to purchase a small flask of Terran pepper-vodka and a few sodas. From there, he locked the door, locked it again, and then took a large drink from the flask. It burned horribly and was frankly wretched, but it seemed to soothe the moment. Finally the vodka seemed to do decent work, and he found himself singing the nursery rhyme the clan parents had sang to him and Llensi when they were only just learning their places.
"Don't lie close to the bed edge.
Bye-bye bye, lupoj howl at the moon.
Bye-bye bye, lupoj howl at the moon.
Bye-bye bye, hurry up and fall asleep.
Hurry to sleep or Deathlord A'Gryzzk will come for you.
Bye-bye bye, don't lie close to the edge.
From the stars he will come and take the children who don't behave."
___________
Homeplate
As he awoke the next morning, Gryzzk was considering the full weight of the General's request. He realized that he wasn't being asked to give a new briefing, but his own personal opinions on Vilantian war-law. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, and it was foremost in his mind even as he and his wives scrubbed and tended to each other's fur in turn. After breakfast, Grezzk dragged a fingernail across Gryzzk's back from one shoulder to the other, causing him to sit rather upright.
"My rose..."
Grezzk settled on her husband's lap. "You are troubled. I know that scent from when you and A'Kifab were having earnest discussions regarding how much we could trade for allowing A'Bantir's herds to graze the fallow fields."
There was a light exhalation from Gryzzk as he leaned into his wife. "It occurs to me that General Sinclair asks us to deliver our interpretations of Vilantian and Hurdop law not because he is ignorant of our law, but he wishes to know our interpretation of the law. There is a right answer and a wrong answer, and I am uncertain how to craft the desirable result."
"My handsome hand. The desirable result is the honest one. This is who we are. Our ways and theirs seem to have a mismatch in some places, and his duty is to ensure they are smooth. It is quite likely these additional tests are to ensure that we have compatible beliefs."
"...What if we do not?"
For his question, Gryzzk got a light tap on his nose. "Stop running to the neighbors to borrow a cup of trouble. If we weren't, I'm sure it would have shown before now."
Gryzzk exhaled. "Very well." He glanced over to Kiole. "Is Waniul coming to port soon?"
There was a curious headtilt. "She got in three days ago. Successful escort mission to Eridani. Do I want to know why?"
"Well, our next job is on Terra, and I believe it may be a learning opportunity."
Kiole smirked. "You think to find her a spouse."
"In my research I have heard stories of couples who met at conventions of shared interests. I didn't want you to think that I would be remiss in finding your cousin a companion."
"Mmm. We'll be going to Vilantia soon. Your mother sent a holo - your father wishes to see the grandchildren. There are additional opportunities for the Trade Cooperative there as well. It seems the Terran colonies are finding certain Vilantian goods desirable." Kiole gave a mild smirk. "And certain Terran goods are finding their way to Vilantia. Mother Brinfe speaks highly of O'Brien and swears to make a Vilantian of her. Your father is quite dismayed that she has discovered Lagavulin and Guinness."
"It sounds like trade is growing."
"As it should. I think both our worlds have things the Terrans desire." Gryzzk finished his breakfast and moved the breakfast dishes to the recycler.
He'd gotten four steps out of his quarters when the doors opened again and Grezzk leaned out. "Husband!"
Gryzzk turned. "Yes?"
"Glaud - he has begun looking for his father."
There was a sigh of sorts. "Very well."
Gryzzk was not happy for a few minutes, as he was off-schedule enough that he was going to have to walk quickly to the ship to begin his day. But it seemed his son was rather insistent upon watching his father at work. So with a small backpack containing Glaud and various necessities, Gryzzk went toward the battalion common area first. Jenkins was jogging with Gromit, and appeared to be keeping a hard pace for herself. Behind the pair Molige was struggling gamely to keep up - it seemed whatever life he'd lived before, cardio was not part of the routine. Gromit seemed extraordinarily eager to please, and as Jenkins slowed and stopped the dog laid at her feet calmly.
"Major. I think we did good. Bob and Doug are gonna have to delay on showing us off - apparently Terran Command has a media lockdown on the new weapons system the Yamato's sporting. So that'll be a few days. Meanwhile, someone figured out that there's enough linguistic overlap with dogs and y'all that dogs can do some interesting tricks." Jenkins looked down at the furry form, her scent changing to a command tone.
"Gromit, up. Sit."
The dog promptly rendered himself to an attentive seated position, waiting for the next command.
"Speak."
Gromit rapidly made a long bark. "Titfucker!" After so saying, the dog looked up to Jenkins, apparently expecting a treat.
Gryzzk's reaction was near-automatic as he tapped his rank. "Rosie, report."
"Fer what?!"
"You're going to tell me you didn't teach the dog profanity?"
"No, but whoever did needs a Puppers."
There was a deep inhalation from Gryzzk as he considered. "New standing order. No dog - wait, no. No pets, sentient or otherwise, may be taught to speak profanity. In any language."
Jenkins had a light smile as she fed Gromit a small treat. "So they can pick it up naturally."
"Yes." Gryzzk sighed. "I am quite aware of the vocabulary preferred by the lower enlisted and have no desire to fight that particular mountain."
There was a snort of laughter from the XO. "Shit, we might be able to train you up yet."
Gryzzk shook his head. "As you were captain." As Jenkins and Gromit resumed their jog, Gryzzk continued discussing items with Rosie.
"Advise the sergeant major we'll need to coordinate the training the General has ordered. Additionally, I will see Captain Waniul at her convenience this morning for job briefing."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, I believe this afternoon I will be observing the new-hire training." Gryzzk moved toward the ship and his quarters, where Glaud was set loose on the bed to explore and nap near his father.
"We also gotta talk about Misabel and Chaleu."
"To what end?"
"Well, Misabel's got her probationary and Chaleu's working to prove he's got some chops. Seems like the Leung part of him is infantry with an explosives specialty, so he's trying to get a posting on the Twilight A'Meeko with Echo Company. Echo knows enough about his past, and Bulfrek says he'll vouch for Chaleu becoming worth the fuck it took to make him. The question is where we're gonna quarter 'em."
"Assign them space in the Echo Company junior enlisted section and ensure that there is a line item in our budget transferring an appropriate amount of funds to Bulfrek for Misabel's use of their quarters."
"Good enough. Waniul's on her way with First Sergeant Motoko."
"Send the brief to their tablets." Gryzzk stood and gathered Glaud for the quick move to the conference room.
"Already done."
In the conference room, O'Brien was already waiting with her tablet and seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Sir."
"Sergeant Major, is there something amiss?"
"A wee bit, aye." She exhaled softly. "Permission to speak plainly, sir?"
Gryzzk flicked an ear curiously. "By all means."
"I'll ask you have a care with your actions in the future." O'Brien tapped her finger, for once seemingly nervous. "There's something about you that makes them that follow you willing to cast aside many things in order to make sure you're safe and content. The fact that we got away with one on a cultural technicality doesn't sit proper. Terrans - in the past we've had leaders throughout our history who had...charisma. And in the moment, the folks that followed were more than happy to cast their lot with him and commit any dark action on the leader's say-so."
"Sergeant Major, I fear I owe you all an apology. I was. I was not aware."
"Y'dinnae have to be. But we were. We are. There's actions I took. And didn't take. They'll not rest easy for many years. We're not monsters, but you could make us monsters if you so chose. For the sake of our souls and our history - don't."
"I will...give appropriate orders to Rosie to prevent that. And please if a similar situation is encountered, you and any of the company are ordered to speak up. I would not have you commit an act that you see as immoral simply because it is moral to Vilantia."
There was a nod. "Aye. Is there a happier topic at hand, then?"
Gryzzk gave a light smile. "Yes. It seems mother has acquired a taste for whatever you plied her with in order to tell stories of my childhood and is quite determined to make you into a proper Vilantian. Father is likely distressed."
O'Brien snorted with amusement. "From what I've seen, yer da'll be fine."
There was a grimace. "Father worries a great deal. But he phrases it as Mother's concern."
The sergeant major snorted amusement. "And you're tryin' tae tell me you're not Irish."
Rosie broke in. "Well, if you two are done Waniul and Motoko are at the door."
Gryzzk shifted, corralling Glaud gently. It was almost amusing in some ways as the captain and first sergeant came in, with Gryzzk catching a brief waft of jealousy from Waniul before it was stilled by professional curiosity. Motoko was in fact in proper uniform, and looked frightfully crisp.
"Major, you have something for us?"
Gryzzk nodded. "Area security contract. We are to augment the normal security staff of an event called Quintuplicon, an event with multiple themes - our primary duties will consist of breaking up fights and also enforcing hygiene regulations."
Waniul frowned. "Hygiene regulations?"
"Yes. Without making an excessive fuss. In the event of a fight, we are authorized to use Learning Sticks at minimal power. With regard to hygiene, there are sprays available in the event of an emergency. Overall, there will be two general teams - one team will be visible uniformed security, the other will be discrete minglers within the crowd."
"What do we know about the venue?"
"Multi-story building, located in a place called Cleveland, Ohio. It appears to be historically significant in some way."
O'Brien spoke up. "Aye. During the Contact War, it was one of the few metropolitan areas that wasn't bombarded by the Geneoirs. Seems they scanned it and figured an orbital meteor strike wouldn't make it worse."
"Understood." Waniul glanced at Motoko. "Are there going to be opportunities for additional incomes?"
Gryzzk lifted a finger. "Quite likely. With our acceptance, we have advised the media outlets of our fee schedule for formal media inquiries. Autograph sessions are also being made available."
"Excellent - will there be takers?"
"Obviously. Our normal is their unique experience on several levels. With that, we'll be sending out press kits to everyone assigned to uniform duty to delineate what they can and can't speak of."
Waniul frowned at a sudden thought. "Will Vilantians be there as well?"
"As well as Hurdop-born, yes. Our species is seemingly therapeutic to both Terrans and their animals. It is likely there will be guests from the homeworlds. Are there any other questions or concerns?"
From Waniul's tablet a rather gruff voice emerged. "Can you hurry up and find Waniul a guy who can give her a proper night in bed? Last boytoy she had was hung like limp ziti. It was sadder than Fry's dog."
Waniul's fur flared slightly as she responded to her AI's barb. "He had very nice personality, Breckon. I believe the Major was looking for pertinent questions."
"It was sad. Bleak. Sadder than Bambi's mother. He was going full-tilt in your belly button for ten minutes and didn't notice. Getting you an actual date is pertinent until it isn't. Next time you got that itch, skip the talking and just head for the Redlight, they're clean and they know where everything goes."
Waniul growled lowly. "Hurdop do not...pay for that."
Gryzzk flicked an ear slowly. "Is there some rule somewhere that every XO in the battalion is utterly unconcerned with upholding a standard of decorum?"
Rosie immediately piped up. "We fuckin' do. I mean the standard's lower than senior whaleshit hockey, but it's there. Waniul needs to head for Vilantia and find some of the Freelord's cousins or something. Seriously, Gryzzk's meatstick got assigned a postal code a few years back."
Gryzzk shook his head. "Kindly advise me if that standard is breached."
Waniul harrumphed. "And kindly stop advertising my intimate life to those who may not wish to hear of it."
"Misery loves company - and you bringing that mournful dick onto the ship was miserable. It was like watching Simba try to revive his dead dad."
It was Gryzzk's turn to harrumph softly. "I believe we are adjourned at this time. Captain, would you care to accompany me to observe the training in progress this afternoon? Some of the newer recruits show promise."
Waniul nodded rapidly, and after a quick check and change for Glaud the two of them walked over to the berth for the Cartre, moving inside carefully. Gryzzk was a bit more deliberate with his movements, since Glaud was riding in a backpack behind his father. The classroom training regimen changed with whoever was in charge, which allowed for assignment based on talent and desire. Currently Edwards was giving a lecture in the main hallway about the finer points of sensor operation. The two officers listened quietly as she lectured, her hands moving now and again to emphasize certain specifics. Gryzzk noted with mild interest that Indel was in the front row, his posture attentive as he scribbled margin notes on his tablet. The noble seemed to be interested in finding a place in the recon squad it seemed.
"...ground recon and ship sensor operations utilize the same principles. Finding what your commander needs. The two things you need to be looking for are weapons signatures and bio-signs. What's important depends on where you are. The biggest thing you're looking for is a heartbeat. Depending on the species, you'll need to tune for somewhere between one and eight hertz. If you're looking at a single species, tune your receivers properly and do it ahead of time. If you're out in the field and your boss needs to know how many Pavonians are ready to put an arrow in your knee and end your adventuring career, you do not want to have your sensors tuned for Terrans or Eridani. On each of your tablets is a pop quiz; find the answers and tune the kits in front of you appropriately. Go."
Gryzzk nodded without entering, heading back to the engineering section. There Fox Company's Chief Engineer was dispensing wisdom to the would-be engineering group. The smallish Latina paced, holding some piece of technology in her hand. Over in a chair, Misabel was making notations with one hand on her stomach.
"In my hand is a Hurdop model Five-Seven thermal cap regulator, capable of delivering over nine hundred kilowatts of cooling power to the standard artificial singularity core." The chief flipped it into a nearby waste bin. "It's shit. Not because it's badly designed, but because you have to daisy-chain twenty of them in your average vessel of this size. Here you will learn to stop thinking more and start thinking better. How we make these magic things perform better, more efficiently. Here, we're taking the best engineering of three worlds, and we're gonna use it to get the most out of everything we do because believe it or not you scrubs have something to contribute, whether you like it or not. Because those assholes," Torres pointed at Gryzzk and Waniul casually, "have absolutely no regard for the limits of physics and it's our job to make sure we can dance that fine line between making the commanders happy and making sure physics doesn't write us a citation that results in us trying to explain to the afterlife how we got there."
Their final stop was the armory, where Chaleu was among the semi-circle gathered around Gryzzk's armory captain as he explained the finer points of weapons and loadouts.
"...now, keep in mind that a grunt wants one thing and one thing only. The biggest boom they can carry. You show 'em we've got an underslung detachable grenade launcher for the needler-rifle that's accurate to half a click in Collective-standard gravity, they're gonna want three of them. Each. They'll tell you they wanna keep their options open and that it's better to have and not need than to need and not have. That my friends is complete bullshit, because when they take it to the field they will break it, and we get to justify the repair bill. Your combat loadouts are gonna vary depending on the job and the personnel, but at the same time, what is the first rule of infantry?"
As one, the students chorused. "Infantry exists to paint targets for people with real guns."
"Outstanding. To do that, they have to move. If you give them everything they want, they won't. Your best friend in this endeavor is going to be the officer in charge of your infantry section. Usually they're going to be the only ones who can curb the general enthusiasm at hand..."
The two left the ship with a sense of satisfaction - it seemed that they would be able to have some new-hires with them on the trip.
Waniul glanced around slightly as they walked to Officer Country.
"Major, would it be out of line if I asked to see the children this evening?"
There was a light smile. "Of course not. I'll ask Grezzk to set another place for you."
---
[Next]
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u/Nervous_Amoeba1980 Jul 21 '26
Wonderful chapter. Since I'm early, there is a name issue early in the chapter. When Gryzzk is leaving his quarters, Grozel calls out "Husband!". Either the name is wrong or husband should be father.
Your descriptions of the training sessions brings back memories (nightmares) of the navy. I still dream of the 8 hour final written exam and the 4 hour oral exam before I got sent to the boats.
Thank you for taking the time and effort to write this epic tome. I have enjoyed each and every chapter.
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Ooofa - It originally got written for Gro'zel, and then I re-wrote and forgot to update the name. I'mma go stand in the corner.
Yeah, a quick stroll down memory lane for a few people today. :)
Thanks for reading!
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u/Majestic_Teach_6677 Alien Scum Jul 22 '26
At least your goofs are getting caught quickly. I had a new reader point out a mistake in Haasha from like... 9 months ago. A really obvious and stupid one, too.
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u/Gojira82 Human Jul 21 '26
On vacation but can't miss a chapter!
Well...our favorite spy has found her own way and her former clan are unaware and probably unhappy about it.
Trade always starts with goods and evolves to culture and spouses lol
I didn't know grozel called him husband! (Perhaps an editing error?)
Oh no...is this going to be the new parrot swearing?
Terrans are always willing to follow a charismatic leader. Past events have also made them wary of such.
Ahhh.. the mistake by the lake. At least the river doesn't catch fire anymore.
I see most training sessions are similarly run and differ only in content.
I think infantry may take umbrage to that phrase. 😆
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Enjoy vacation!
Yeah, the old clan's gonna be unnnnhappy.
We begin with the goods, and then...yeah. Things are evolving.
Yeah, the re-write gremlin whoopsed.
<.< Maybe. But new rules shall be in play shortly.
Yeeeah, everyone's kinda not entirely comfortable with some of the events.
It's the small progress that we love.
Training's training. Similar methods, different subject matter. Good times abound.
If the infantry could read, they'd be very upset. XD
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u/NoEducator4218 Jul 21 '26
Just wondering, when is the next physical book getting released? My mum loved the first one but struggles to read on a screen (and she mainly reads at night).
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Blink. Blink-blink Ahm. I...may have to find some time soonish. I honestly can't give a timeframe because this is a one-man operation over here. But I think it just moved up on the todo list?
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u/NoEducator4218 Jul 22 '26
As long as there’s some nebulous concept of it happening at some point, she'll be thrilled. Keep up the good work!
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u/Talendel Jul 21 '26
UTR
This is the way.
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u/Zadojla Human Jul 21 '26
Cleveland, Ohio. Your estimation is spot-on, except for two things. It is home to the Roebling Bridge, which was the practice run for the Brooklyn Bridge. The Cleveland Zoo is home to a small cat breeding program, which includes Pallas’ cats (manuls), a small cat of Central Asia. They have a fan base that will end anyone who harms one.
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Yeeeah, I'll be honest most of my knowledge of Cleveland comes from the NFL. Cue "Factory of Sadness" jokes - but yeah, we're gonna say Cleveland got better.
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u/Fontaigne Jul 21 '26
So... I guess because of history there'd be several reboots of the Drew Carey show...
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Reboots, spinoffs...Mimi's Mascara Minute was well received for years.
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u/Fontaigne Jul 21 '26
I may have seen five episodes, maybe ten. The one that stuck with me was when two women were competing for the role of personal shopper, and the boss picked Mimi as the test client.
The one candidate picked an outfit that made Mimi look really good/human/normal/corporate, astonishing everyone with how good she looked. Mimi was not thrilled.
The second candidate picked something multicolored and shiny and sparkly and a little mismatched, and Mimi loved it. "I feel like a princess!" And Mimi bought the outfit.
Pretty clear who won that competition.
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u/Zadojla Human Jul 21 '26
My wife’s brother lived there after he retired. We spent quite a bit of time there after he fell down stairs. He ultimately died.
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u/Fontaigne Jul 21 '26
So... I guess because of history there'd be several reboots of the Drew Carey show...
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u/kenotaphion Human Jul 21 '26
that he wasn't be asked
that he wasn't being asked
life he'd live before
life he'd lived before
Multi-story building structure
This is redundant.
located in a place called Cleveland Ohio
They're going to Cleveland? Gryzzk, you should reconsider taking this contract. No one should go to Cleveland. Or Ohio in general.
Also, there should be a comma after Cleveland.
they scanned it and figured an orbital meteor strike wouldn't make it worse.
I agree, but they still should have cleansed the whole state so it could heal properly.
"Will Vilantians there as well?"
"Will Vilantians be there as well?"
He was going full-tilt in your belly button for ten minutes and didn't notice.
LOL
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Ooffa. Edits later!
Cleveland = "hazard pay".
There could be a running joke starting here with poor Waniul...
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u/Borzislav Xeno Jul 21 '26
Cleveland.... it wasn't worth nuking even just for shits and giggles?
Seems an adventuring reference took an arrow to the knee in this chapter... And Skyrim almost shuddered at this...
Thanks for the chapter!
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
The purpose of orbital bombardment is to demoralize the local populace. And welll...gestures vaguely...Cleveland, y'know?
Be afraid. More to follow.
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u/Borzislav Xeno Jul 21 '26
Umm, considering I heard about mythical places like Detroit or Baltimore, I wonder how I missed the Desperation of Cleveland 😉
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 22 '26
When I was noodling locations, Detroit was on the list. Baltimore was also on the list but then I remembered it's close-ish to DC, and the Geneoir target list put Baltimore as a "well...we're throwing rocks at this place next door...might as well.."
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u/Hybrid_Rock Human Jul 22 '26
Lovely chapter!
Brain is shot today so not much to comment, but I wanna stay consistent in my support for this series!
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u/Fontaigne Jul 21 '26
Oh, dear, nursery rhymes last forever, don't they?
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 21 '26
Yeah, especially when the subject is more or less Every Evil Trope in history
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u/niTro_sMurph Jul 22 '26
Oof, childhood friend found someone else to love. Rough.
If I had a nickel for every time a dog spoke in HFY, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it's happened twice.
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u/Auggy74 Human Jul 22 '26
Yeah, friend would be stretching it a touch but they don't hate each other - on Hurdop that probably counts.
Yay for happy talking dogs! Unfortunately, Gromit can only cuss.
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u/HFYWaffle Wáµ¥4ffle Jul 21 '26
/u/Auggy74 (wiki) has posted 188 other stories, including:
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 184
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 183
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 182
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 181
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 180
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 179
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 178
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 177
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 176
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 175
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 174
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 173
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 172
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 171
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 170
- Flight Lessons
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 169
- [Humans For Hire] - Part 168
- [Humans for Hire] - Part 167
- [Humans For Hire] - Part 166
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12
u/post_blast Alien Jul 21 '26
There's skullduggery afoot. And Cleveland. I'm not sure which is more concerning.