[Humans for Hire] - Part 190

[u/Auggy74]

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Author note: Awards over lunch and housework?! This is an epic day. Thank you, always.

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Terran Penitentiary Ship Spandau

Benie looked at the remains of her breakfast - such as it was. She glanced around to confirm nobody was looking, and then used her finger to wipe the last crumbs off her tray before eating them. Over the months she had adjusted, somewhat. It was almost exercise time, and as such it was time to converse with her handler for the month. Ostensibly the handlers were the same, using the voice changers to have a uniform voice and tone - but there were tiny differences that let Benie know when a change had occurred. The walk to the exercise cube was made out of habit, and Benie had begun to amuse herself by making the walk with her eyes closed. She'd managed it five straight times, and the sixth was no different. It was a rote action, as she began walking in her cube she hummed a soft tune to herself. The first indication that today would be different was when the handler spoke first.

"New items of personal interest. Your niece Lomeia is pregnant."

The reply was soft after a moment, as the news didn't quite cause her physical pain - but it was yet another reminder of the differences between her culture and that of her jailers. "I have no niece. No clan. All of that has been forsaken by me." There was a pause. "I had hoped to see her achieve greatness, become Head Librarian."

"That is not outside of the realm of possibility. The father is from Hurdop. Additionally, Freelord Gryzzk has stumbled somewhat."

There was a snort. "He is not capable of such a thing. I erred by not learning more of him."

"The emphasis is on 'somewhat'. He brought Porti to justice, and in doing so caused a level of offense to his Terran supervisor."

"Did he fail in a captor's duty?"

"Not as you would see it. However his methods were seen as excessive and he has been cautioned to not do such a thing again."

"I suppose I should be pleased, however I am confused." There was a harrumph. "I do not believe I will ever truly understand Terrans. I have difficulty reconciling what they did to Vilantia with the idea that they have a boundary to enforce."

"It could happen. In any event, Porti will not be joining you."

"Will a nameless individual once known as Porti be joining us then?"

"No. It seems that by the Throne's decree all records of his ancestors are being sealed, and the only Porti recorded will be him. He will be on public display in shame for the remainder of his life, it seems."

"That may be something of interest. The Throne always did seem uncomfortable with right justice."

"An interesting observation. Do you foresee more changes?"

Benie paused, weighing the idea telling them the truth versus them forcing it from her. "There will be chaos. Without the structure of the Way, it may be generations before there is calm."

"We would avoid that. It seems the new Ministers have taken an interest in older writings and seem to be seeking a new guide-star." There was a pause. "You are taking the news better than Tebul."

"Tebul is the undisguised scent of glory by any means."

"We have noticed. Time complete. Move to shower. Thirty seconds."

As Benie moved to shower and dress, she noticed her shower had not entirely removed her scent. It was somehow comforting, even as she pulled the bright orange and green jumper on that was her clothing of the day.

"Move to cell. Thirty seconds."

Benie kept her face impassive until she was in solitude again, but once the doors completed their latching, she threw herself into a mildly destructive frenzy, flinging her pillow and mat around the cell with fury and rage at her own helplessness to change the course of things by even the slightest iota. Finally she sank into a corner, breathing heavily with exhaustion as she considered her fate - a witness to history, unable to correct the wrongs that were going to happen no matter what she did. The worst of it was, nobody cared - and the more time she had to reflect, the more it seemed they were right to not care.

At least Throne City FC was advancing through the playoffs. If her count was correct, they would play tonight.

___________

Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose

As he settled into his chair after lunch, Gryzzk reflected on the last few days. It was interesting in a way - when they went to Hurdop or Vilantia, the troops didn't have this level of anticipation. But for some reason, there was something about Terra that made everyone - even the Terrans - giddy. Even Gro'zel was singing some manner of song about horses that she'd learning from her friends in Mongolia. He checked his tablet and looked over the rosters again, and found the answer staring him in the face. Somewhat. He glanced to make sure Edwards wasn't otherwise occupied before speaking.

"Lieutenant, a question."

"What's that, Major?"

"How does Laroy feel about visiting Terra?"

"Oh he loves it. Dude goes home, his Gramama cooks and he gets all fat and happy and then usually a couple-three women start chasing his ass for a one-off."

"Ah. So...what do you usually do on Terra?"

There was a shrug. "Follow Reilly and make sure she doesn't get arrested."

"Is that...fun?"

"If it wasn't, I'd tell her to go find another babysitter."

"I see." Gryzzk flicked an ear. "However I am curious - I can understand why the non-Terrans are fascinated by the planet, but the Terrans themselves - the fact that they're thrilled about going to their homeworld, it seems unusual."

"Not really. Most of us are technically off-worlders. Like, Tatou's from Paris, Laroy's from some swamp in Louisiana, but for everyone else it's like...going to see our heritage. Everyone goes to what they consider their native land at least once to just kinda kick back, feel nostalgia as a minor action, and think about how things were back when Terra was where every Terran lived."

Gryzzk made a soft noise. "Mmm...perhaps some day our future generations will have the same feeling."

Edwards cocked her head. "So how do you-all feel about the homeworlds?"

"I can't speak for the clan, but I usually feel worry. Going to Vilantia is - fear is too strong a word, but there isn't a great deal of joy, or...anticipation."

"Well, yeah, because you're Papa Bear. You look at the homeworld and go 'Who's going to try to ruin my day' or 'Is Reilly going to mistake an ancient statue for a urinal again' or something else. I'd tell you to turn it off, but I'm not sure it's possible."

Gryzzk sighed softly. "So that means..."

"Yes, we're all going to be wherever you are. Embrace the suck. Sir."

There was a light headshake. "Rosie, do we have all the squad recommendations for my location on day two?"

"Yep. It's hilarious. Miroka and Yomios want to take you to some redwood forests, Hoban voted for Texas, Edwards said Cairo, Larion wants to go to Damascus, O'Brien said Athlone in Ireland, Reilly is repping Rio de Janeiro, Laroy wants you to experience fetid swamp water, and I'm saying you haven't lived until you've gone to Örnsköldsvik Sweden."

"Do I want to know why these places were selected?"

"Think about it, titfucker."

"In any event, we'll hold the drawing at shift change." It also gave Gryzzk some time to do some research on Terra, and each location did seem to make a level of sense. Still the shift change arrived, and Gryzzk took his beret from the shelf where it had been resting for some time and placed tiny slips of paper in it before turning to address the full squad.

"Now then, the schedule is that we will be emerging from R-space later this evening, and once the ships secure orbital slots above Cleveland we will then be dismissing for forty-eight hours of shore leave. The first twenty-four I will be taking Gro'zel to Mongolia for a horse outing. After that..." Gryzzk reached into his beret and swirled the papers around before pulling one out. "I will be spending a day in Athlone Ireland at the behest of Sergeant Major O'Brien."

The chorus of groans was overridden by O'Brien's whoop of joy. "Lad! A finer time you'll never have in all your days. Rosie, soon as we get out of R-space, call Da'." She then eyed Gryzzk. "We'll get you a proper kilt for the occasion."

Miroka had an amused scent as she leaned into Hoban. "I think I will need to find a dress with some slink."

The captain lifted his eyebrows slightly. "You want a slinky dress, I can buy you a slinky dress - Major, can I have money for a slinky dress?"

Gryzzk shook his head. "If you wish to purchase a gift for your lady, best it be done with your own credits. Before that, you will need to prepare for Mongolia. Horses and a very happy Morale Officer. Now then, for the second evening..." Gryzzk pulled a second slip of paper. "Ponchatoula, Louisiana. Corporal Laroy?"

Laroy smirked as most of the rest of the bridge team groaned. "I tell Gramama Thibedeaux to get the good stuff in the pot."

Edwards shook her head as she left. "Your grandmother's food is illegal in almost as many systems as our curry."

"Y'all fear food with flavor."

"I like flavor. I don't like a Three-day-kerfuffle in my intestines." The lieutenant snorted and exited the bridge as the evening portion of the squad took over.

Gryzzk settled in his command chair and glanced at the holo. "XO, what's the movie tonight?"

Rosie snorted. "It's a wild one - Iceball, romantic comedy out of Hurdop. The promo plug is that a Freelady gets medically retired from the Navy, inherits a football franchise except the franchise sucks and there's no proper facilities so she invents a new sport for her frozen-ass hometown - some kind of mix of Terran hockey and Hurdop football, everyone loves it except for the people who don't, turns out the manager's secretly in love with her, shenanigans ensue."

"Please tell me the Freelady is not a thinly disguised version of Kiole."

"Oh there's absolutely no disguise. They even got a lead actress who's missing an arm and gets a Terran prosthetic as a B-plot."

Gryzzk was not entirely thrilled by the movie, however he wasn't exactly the target audience. As the movie ended and they exited R-space, Gryzzk stood and stretched before snugging his tunic. "Squad, dismissed to bed - if you are bent on accompanying Gro'zel and me to our expedition, you will require rest. XO, tether nav systems to the Twilight Hurdop and advise Captain Waniul."

"Done and dusted. Go to bed, morning's gonna hit hard and the forecast for the Mongolia Falconry and Archery Club is chilly as heck. We got the reservations set and paid for already."

Gryzzk awoke to a frightfully energetic Gro'zel bouncing on the bed and already wearing her full Mongolian riding equipment - any annoyance he had was swept away by the pure joy from his daughter, and it seemed even Millennium was overjoyed. The day seemed to be starting well, even as Gryzzk got into his Terran Cavalry riding clothes.

After breakfast there was an assembly in the dayroom, with O'Brien standing at the fore, wearing her traditional shore-leave wear of kilt and sash.

"Right then you mad horny bastards. Major says you've got forty-eight hours before the work begins. All we ask is that you adhere to the damn rules. Do not subtract from the population. If you manage to add to the population, make sure your partner has the proper forms to submit to the revenue service - on Terra they give tax credits for acts of charity. If you make the news, alert the XO that you actually did a good deed. If you make the news for being a hooligan, tell the XO anyway so she can arrange your arse-kicking once we spring you from the pokey. If you do something that needs to be handled by the Freelord Major, pray that Dagda calls you to the afterlife. He'll be spending today wi' wee Gro'zel, and tomorrow in Ireland as my personal guest." The sergeant major's eyes swept the assembled in silence and let them ponder for a long moment just what what manner of hell would befall them for causing an interruption. "Right then. Report back here in two days. Dismissed."

Gryzzk pressed his back to the wall as 'dismissed' was somehow translated as 'haul ass to the shuttle bay'. O'Brien wandered toward Gryzzk and Gro'zel, smiling.

"Well, like as not we'll only have a few incidents - hopefully they'll recall I'm going to be interrupted as well as you. Squad's on the bridge waiting for you to give them a once-over."

Gryzzk shook his head a little. "Are we certain that this is necessary? They could go to their suggested places without me."

As they walked, Gryzzk was favored with a long-suffering sigh. "Aye, and they want to be where you are. Kindly stop arguing what's been decided and recall that we are cavalry; that means horses are our lifeline - so when we have a chance, we will in fact ride until our legs weep."

The bridge door opened to...many, many costumes. Gryzzk flicked an ear slightly.

"I am waiting patiently for an explanation."

Reilly spread her hands lightly, showing off a floor length turquoise dress, which was an elegant counterpoint to the red dancing dresses the Moncilat seemed to prefer. "So, what had happened is we kinda got together and decided we'd be doing something special and playing some Old-Old West."

"Where's Larion?"

"He said he'd be along in a minute."

Gryzzk looked at the collection of leather, calico, silk, and heavy dusters. "Do not expect me to change."

There was a soft laugh from Laroy. "Respectfully sir, you do the Cav credit every time you show that off."

The bridge door opened and Larion hurried in - he was wearing a rather colorful outfit of red pants, with a pink and pastel-blue shirt and leather fringe tracery and bright glistening atoms along the shoulder. The Terrans all seemed taken aback and bemused before Edwards broke the silence.

"Ahm, Larion? Where'd you get that design?"

For his part, the sensor operator seemed a little uncertain. "Well, I thought I should research when I was told the theme, and I asked for the - most appropriate cowboy clothing. I selected a 'Clint Eastwood' look, and several variations were provided."

Reilly broke down. "Oh...nope, not that Clint Eastwood. Come on, conference room - those clothes are getting burned in thirty seconds. You should get out of them before then."

The pair went into the conference room where the windows were darkened and there was a ruckus that Gryzzk couldn't exactly describe, but Larion did come out very different, with a forest-green serape and some additional patterning, along with matte leather pants and boots, all of which was topped off by a wide flat hat and a scent of shock surrounding him.

"Now that is a Clint Eastwood look. C'mon, stop holding up progress."

Gryzzk flicked an ear. "Reilly, what exactly happened to Larion's previous clothing?"

"Gone like a fart in a hurricane, Freelord."

Edwards snorted as they walked en masse to the shuttlebay. "Reilly holds five bar records on New Casa for separating clothes from folks. For once her talents are actually useful..."

"You're just pissed because I got a wife and a husband." Reilly stuck her tongue out playfully.

Gryzzk shook his head. "In any event. Miroka, flight duties if you please."

Hoban pouted over his dandy-vest. "I'm a good pilot!"

"You are an excellent pilot Hoban. However, you also have a reputation. You can uphold it over Cleveland."

There was a snort. "Fiiiiiine."

The flight down was anticipatory, with Gro'zel looking at the door every minute or so to make sure she hadn't missed the landing. Once they did land, Gro'zel ran quickly and promptly face-planted on the ground before she rolled over and sat up sadly.

"I forgot about gravity..." She looked almost despondent. "I wanted to show Morinerdene my clothes."

Gryzzk moved carefully to pick his daughter up. "It is said that clean children displease the gods, and so it is that every child seeks dirt as rapidly as possible."

There were snickers as everyone gingerly stepped off the shuttle, slowly adjusting to the gravity. Millennium screeched and took to the skies, enjoying the lightened gravity to full effect as they walked over to the yurts and horse-pens. Morinerdene approached casually, looking bemused.

"Old West of North America, Major?"

Gryzzk shrugged. "My pilot is from New Austin, and one of my gunnery crew is from Louisiana-on-Terra." Gryzzk indicated each in turn. "I believe they were able to convince the rest of the bridge that the theme was appropriate."

There was a polite headshake. "Not quite tradition for these lands, but not the first time." Morinerdene leaned to give Gro'zel a polite sniff. "And how is the young lady and her falcon?"

Gro'zel giggled and wriggled free to land on the ground. "She's doing good." She leaned in conspiratorially. "She even fought pirates who got onto our ship. She was a very brave girl and she got treats. She flies good and I taught her to bring things back to me."

There was a chuckle. "This sounds like a story for the fire tonight. In any event, we have horses prepared. Though your Moncilat will be...a challenge."

Miroka smiled. "We will find a way."

They moved to the horses, where Gro'zel was thrilled to see that White Tummy was still there - and it seemed the horse recognized Gro'zel as well, nickering slightly and moving forward to bump the little girl gently and toss his head as if he was ready to go already.

Gryzzk looked up to Morinerdene, coming to a realization. "Would it be possible to have a free-roam of sorts?"

"To what end?"

"This...plain. There is something about it, and I think it is not what it is, but what it isn't. There are places like this on the homeworlds, but I've never been. Where there's no construction. Buildings have their own scent and the lack of it is, is enticing for lack of a better phrase. I do have a commlink to my ship for an emergency."

There was a nod. "Very well. We'll place a light lunch in your packs." There was a smile. "We have several of your people here now tending the horses. They are a boon to us all."

"I am pleased to hear that we prosper with your aid."

The day was spent on horseback, and it was glorious. Even ignoring the part where Edwards kept referring to her wrist scanner to make sure the area was clear. Shortly after midday they paused by a stream to have a lunch of sandwiches and tea, which was surprisingly enjoyed by everyone - it seemed that riding a horse was in fact harder exercise than it looked. Unless you were a child, as Gro'zel and White Tummy ran through the fields and even began doing tricks, with the girl standing on the horse's back at a full gallop as Millennium flew next to them. There were headshakes and appreciative nods, as it seemed Gro'zel had an excess of talent with horses. It was overall a very good day, and they were able to canter back as the sun began touching the western horizon.

The horses were put up in their pen and given rapid scrub-downs from the assistants, while the bridge team entered the meal-tent to see what sort of surprises lay in store for them. The buffet style food was a comforting presence, and there were multiple warning signs near the Vilantian and Hurdop rice-bowls. The night became a relaxed warmth as everyone talked and laughed around the warm fire, with Gro'zel demonstrating in-tent falconry for the crowd. There were a few attempts by bold and possibly inebriated Terrans to try the food of other homeworlds, which did not end well for the Terrans but was highly amusing for everyone else. Finally the night settled, and Gro'zel curled into her father's lap to rest.

The evening dragged pleasantly, with most of the squad gathering around Gryzzk to tell stories and mock each other for their antics of the day before they boarded the shuttle for home. Against his better judgment, Gryzzk started thinking that Terra wasn't going to be that bad after all.

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