This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Auggy74 on 2025-07-01 15:00:38+00:00.

[First] [Prev] [Next] [Royal Road]

___________

Hurdop Prime, Home of Kifab

The household was stirring slowly - Kifab still hadn’t fully acclimated from a social perspective, but Eterina more than made up for the awkward moments when he spoke out of turn or made a gesture out of habit that was innocuous at his former manse but was considered tantamount to an open questioning of the circumstances of the listener’s parentage here.

It was quieter than usual as Kifab came down to breakfast. He frowned as he looked around for Jojorn, feeling an uncomfortable absence. He looked at his personal tablet, slowly manipulating it to see a string of messages from the rest of the Emissaries - the verbiage was different but the content was the same. Surprise, concern, and confusion over their charges having received a message and promptly leaving for the next job bound for Vilantia. From the scent it was important, but they were non-specific as to what they were doing and why.

His thoughts consumed him such that he didn’t note Eterina’s entrance until she embraced him from behind, causing him to start and upset his tea. He quickly moved away, looking concerned as he grabbed a dishrag to wipe the mess - yet another change that he was adapting to. While Hurdop servants were still servants, there was some expectation that a lord should be at least minimally capable of clearing their own spills and sundry messes.

“Eter…apologies. My fellow emissaries are having a moment of grave concern.”

There was a casual smile in return. “They are? This is pleasing in a way.” The lady’s hand rested on her stomach that was just starting to swell.

“Well, yes - it appears that the Youthfleet has made a decision of some sort.”

There was a non-committal noise. “Mmm. They are doing something they feel important, and they feared you and your fellow emissaries would intervene.”

Kifab frowned. “They are children. They should not be…” he caught himself and sighed. “I know they would not do this without reason, but what are good and sound reasons to them may not be so reasonable. I fear for them.”

Eterina leaned in and nuzzled Kifab’s shoulder gently. “And that is why you are a better Lord than you allow yourself to be. They take on an adult’s burden so that their children don’t have to.”

“I don’t suppose you have insight into the burden they are currently taking on?”

There was a sly smile. “What do you think? We received a message that your friend would be in-system later this week after a visit to Vilantia, and then there was a followup message from your friend’s daughter - who is from Hurdop, and is not travelling with him. And now the Youthfleet have left with minimal notice. Something is happening on Vilantia that seems to require their immediate presence.”

Kifab mulled this over for a moment before frowning. “The possibilities are many and I do not think them good.”

“This is where you have to have some measure of faith.” Eterina nuzzled at his ear delicately.

Kifab felt his tension easing. “I hope they will send a message when they are safe. For the moment, I need to quell the anxiety of my fellows.”

___________

Vilantia, Throne City, Ministry of Culture

Gryzzk was not pleased at the current events, but after a moment he realized he really had nobody to blame but himself for his current predicament. He’d come in rather theatrically, told Hoban to ignore the rules, and strode into the ministry as if the building was personally offensive. During all that time he’d been recorded, with those recordings making a wildfire’s advance through the Localgrid - of course the press would react.

O’Brien cleared her throat. “Any chance your gods would bless us with a side passage out of here?”

“Not that I’m aware of. In hindsight, I should have requested Hoban loiter and meet us at the minister’s shuttle pad.”

“I’ll remind you next time you bring me along to assault a ministry building. For now, the piper wants his creds.” O’Brien fell into step behind Gryzzk as he pulled the door open.

There was instant chaos as every microphone in the city was shoved into his face to capture his voice and scent while a dozen questions were thrown at him. During this melee O’Brien stood calmly behind him, scanning the area as the cacophony died down.

“Freelord, does this have anything to do with the announcement from the Minister of Culture just now that there will be an event at Vilantianic Stadium in three days?”

Gryzzk decided in that moment that combat was preferable to a press conference. “It does.”

Another question came in from another direction. “Do you expect to be there?”

“I do.” The other option was untenable on several levels. However if he knew the Ministry, there would be several blockades set before he would be allowed his proper place. Even imagining the consequences of failure caused his breath to quicken.

“What exactly is happening?”

"It is a matter of clan and honor. I would ask that you defer questions for the moment - " Gryzzk began to press forward almost apologetically. “I fear I must return to my ship, as myself and the Sergeant Major have duties to attend.” He held up a hand. “Please, I understand that this is…not entirely satisfying, but I promise I will speak to you again when events permit.”

The last question came in with all the grace of a hurled grenade. “Does this mean that the Ministry of Culture will be formally recognizing you as a Lord?”

That one sentence hit harder than a Greatlord’s challenge glove. Gryzzk had to pause for a moment to recover his thoughts and speech. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Minister Larine that question. I cannot claim to know or speak for the Ministry.” There was a slight smile as he pressed through, the crowd parting more as O’Brien followed behind waving away the less earnest and growling curses and shaking her cane at the more earnest members of the press. It was a job, but they eventually made it to the ministry carriage stand.

The whole situation was overwhelming him to the point that he didn’t even know where he wanted to go - part of him said he wanted to go to the Grand Warrior, but he wasn’t dressed for such a thing. Finally he requested the driver to go the spaceport, and then tapped his rank for a channel to Rosie.

“Hole-ey fuck that was funnier than a zamboni on fire, Freelord.”

“Your confidence is noted, Rosie. Who’s left on the ship?”

“Hoban, Miroka, Patty, the Cottles, Kiole, and Gro’zel. I played a recording of the Sergeant Major’s safety briefing and dismissed the rest of the company. The ones I just mentioned have elected to remain aboard for various reasons.”

Gryzzk frowned. “I will require a pilot shortly.”

“I’ll tell Miroka. Hey did you know that Moncilat like to use their claws when they smash?”

“Why am I being burdened with this knowledge, Rosie?” His voice and scent became wary of the incoming fact he could have remained pleasantly ignorant of for the rest of his days.

“Wellll…Hoban was warned. But he was thinking other things when she said ‘bring protection’ and now Doc Cottle’s got Hoban in medbay while Other Doc Cottle is in Miroka’s quarters lecturing the poor lady. I’ll send Miroka your way shortly, Hoban’s gonna be out of commission for a couple hours and she needs a break.”

Gryzzk looked around. “Sooner would be preferred. I may have been responsible for a ruckus.”

“Could you describe the ruckus sir?” Rosie seemed amused.

“I ah, struck a Greatlord three times and knocked out two of his teeth.” Gryzzk hurriedly added, “In my defense, I forgot to bring a proper glove for the occasion.”

“That’s it, we’re bringing hockey to Vilantia.”

Gryzzk looked around nervously. “I think we have brought enough to Vilantia for one day. And ahm, please hurry. I should very much like to dodge the press. We were not exactly…secretive.”

There was silence for a moment. “Miroka is boarding a shuttle. We are cleared for pad ninety-four.”

O’Brien nodded grimly, leaning on the cane a touch. “Alright, let’s get our asses moving before the gods-damned press figures out where we fucked off to.”

Gryzzk nodded and the two made their way toward the landing pad, which was distant and blissfully free of anyone with a microphone. The pair sat, breathing heavily and keeping their eyes in motion.

It took all of a minute before Gryzzk caught a vague scent. “Oh…brace yourself, sergeant major.” O’Brien looked around, her cane and posture immediately shifting to a defensive pose.

The figure that emerged from behind a crate was slim and quite familiar to Gryzzk - though they’d never met face to face. Lodora of the Vilantian Daily Planet approached cautiously with her hands visible and fur only slightly askew due to her hiding among a few crates. She wasn’t accompanied by a camera operator, so this was at least an informal greeting. She nosed forward slightly before retreating, as if uncertain what reaction her presence would elicit.

“Apologies Freelord, sergeant. Minister Aa’Criar sends her regards and wishes for your health. She also requested you call ahead prior to visiting again so she could make time for you. Do you have plans for this afternoon?”

"My original intent was to take my wife and daughter to Victory Park, and then after m…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1lp3wbv/humans_for_hire_part_83/