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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Auggy74 on 2025-10-14 15:00:34+00:00.

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___________

New Casablanca, Hurantian Chophouse Restaurant

Theran and Valone walked in with a bit of uncertainty; the scents of the place were both familiar and not - seasonings from two worlds mixed and drifted, giving the place a very distinct feel. The architecture and decor was a similar mish-mash of an attempt the make two very separate cultures entwine. It was familiar enough that the pair of Hurdop were relaxed, but different enough to make them feel uneasy as they were escorted to a booth where the two women sat laughing at some shared joke.

There had been a discussion between the two that began as soon as their ship lurched into R-space; it was both meaningless and terribly important - what they were going to wear. They’d both settled on something more civil than their usual shipwear, but nothing so formal as to make their tablemates think they were attempting to curry favor or show themselves as being in a lesser position.

Both men took deep breaths for different reasons - Valone because he was looking at a potential wife, and Theran because if what Gryzzk said was true his ships would be able to more fully leave their life in the gray behind. Most officials were fairly lenient when it came to allowing passage for ships crewed by children and teens through, even if they were certain there was contraband on board. But all it would take was one inspection ship with too much time on their hands and too much adherence to the law and a great deal of their current profit margin would be missing.

The most beneficial thing about this place was that it had been built with their species in mind - the ceilings were low, and instead of booths with chairs or benches, there were simply circular table areas with thickly cushioned pillows. The two were escorted by a Terran who was short enough to be comfortable with the architecture and had an overall pleasant demeanor as he guided them toward their hosts for the evening.

A few moments later their waitress came to their table with drinks and small tablets that held both pictures and texts of the available food, with sections for Vilantian, Hurdop, Terran, and various fusions that had found favor amongst the newest residents.

Theran and Grezzk shifted closer to hear each other more clearly over the general buzz and scent of the room, while Valone and Lomeia both stared awkwardly at each other over their juice, taking tentative sniffs every so often. It was almost amusing, as if neither wanted to make the mistake that sent this whole thing into chaos and confusion.

Over three courses of food, Theran and Grezzk came to verbal agreements - items ordered by the Legion personnel would be shipped by Theran’s fleet, and in exchange for the exclusivity Theran’s ships would charge a favorable price for the goods. Passenger service was also discussed, with it being offered on a space-available basis and the understanding that passenger service would not be in luxury accommodations. The unspoken contingency of all these agreements was over on the other side of the table acting for all the galaxy like a pair of adolescents at the Spring Planting Festival. Grezzk finally smiled gently and nudged Lomeia to the washroom.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Theran started off. “Valone, you have thoughts?”

Valone seemed to quiver for a moment. “I was expecting a Vilantian version of Reilly. I’m not certain. Her scent is pleasing.”

“Well, I suppose if you’re never going to speak to her a pleasant scent is fortunate.”

Velon’s fur fluttered in anxiety. “I know that I should trust you, and trust that this meeting will be fruitful no matter the outcome of my own part in this. But at the same time I can’t not think of what could happen, Freelord. What if this all goes wrong? What if the Year is wasted? Lomeia’s heart and bed are well-tended by Reilly, what is my place in this? What if…what if it all goes to darkness and we face Svitre’s fate?”

There was a soft laugh from Theran. “My friend, if we were truly to walk his path, it would have been walked by now. You are anxious because she was not what you expected, and despite that you crave her. Were this one of your typical business transactions, I think you would be more confident. It’s good to be nervous, but for the sake of us all let me be the nervous one.” There was a wry smile. “I’m the one who has to balance our accounts.”

As the two discussed, neither noticed the figure eating alone and taking notes on a tablet.

___________

Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose

Gryzzk forced himself straight in his chair before he spoke quietly. "XO, tactical display on holo. Reilly, remind the assault personnel that alive pays more. Confirm general warnings are prepared regarding our intentions. Send them once the shuttles have breached for boarding. "

The display shifted in front of his as anything not immediately in the battle area was removed from view, leaving the two main ships and the shuttles in-transit. The next minutes were tense as the shuttles swiveled to force a seal with the other ship. As soon as the breach was reported, Reilly sent out a general warning and the sounds of fighting were heard over the comm system. At the same time she glared at her console and chirped up.

“We got comm chatter from the target; scrambled but regular intervals, looks like some kind of mayday signal.”

Gryzzk gestured to her. “Understood. Edwards start looking to see if there are any unknowns vectoring toward us.”

Edwards bored her eyes into her console for a moment before her fingers flew to issue commands. “Major, three unknowns approaching at high speed with weapons hot, they appear to be targeting the boarding parties. Data’s cross-decked to tactical to confirm.”

O’Brien flicked her eyes to her targeting scopes. “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. They used that one as a stalking goat. The party-crashers are all guns no shields - but those guns look nasty.”

Gryzzk felt a stab in his torso even as he spoke. “Hoban, put us between the new ships and the fake Gyrfalcon - O’Brien, set shielding to maximum. I see three engine cones that I do not wish to see, correct that at your convenience.”

Hoban swiveled and abused the flight controls to reposition the ship as quickly as possible - an act which made Rosie give a little squeak of surprise. At the same time there was a microshudder through the deckplate as O’Brien ejected three torpedoes from their launch magazine to streak toward their targets.

Things became hectic in short order as the three incoming ships began jinking and spinning to avoid the incoming torpedoes as well as returning fire. Hoban was forced to keep the Twilight Rose between the three interlopers and the fourth that was being boarded and taken. It was mostly successful as Hoban had to maneuver the ship to intercept incoming fire meant for the boarded ship a few times. The grim reality of that was that Rosie was taking damage - but at least their first target was still intact.

The ships began a twisting dance of sorts, with Gryzzk keeping abreast of the situation - mostly. O’Brien was hard at work swearing and salvoing as the attackers kept dodging just enough to throw off the targeting. Finally there was a hit scored as O’Brien sent a railgun slug that was originally meant to be amidships into the engineering section, sending one target spinning wildly into the stars.

With the odds narrowed, O’Brien began taking leisurely shots, sending another torpedo out cold and then lancing plasma into the area the moment the next ship dodged. The second ship dodged into the plasma, venting a small amount of atmosphere before the lights on the ship dimmed and failed, with it the odds shifted quite nicely.

During all of this madness, the boarding parties seemed to be having an easy time of it - the reports coming into Gryzzk’s tablet showed minimal contact, and what contact there was was brief and almost a formality prior to surrender. Gryzzk’s largest problem appeared to be protecting his boarding parties from the three ships attacking.

At least for a moment. Edwards called out yet again, “Major we got another ship coming in hot and heavy, ident says it’s the Falcon of Profit, Foreign Terran Legion.” There was a pause. “If it’s another fake, it’s a good one.”

Gryzzk growled softly. “Bless the gods for keeping me busy this fine day - O’Brien get a target solution on the newest problem, Reilly hail them and advise of our intentions.”

Gryzzk was apparently worried about nothing, as the newest ship rapidly fired several rounds at a target that was not the Twilight Rose, stitching the last attacker’s hull into a shambles of vented gas and electrical arcs. O’Brien stared at her targeting scopes for a few moments before relaxing and looking back. “Last ship has chilled their weapons, looks like they’ve had enough for one day.”

“Good. Status of the boarding parties?”

Reilly spoke up. “Pretty good. You ain’t gonna believe this, or maybe you are. Looks like their fakeout was another Hurdop Youthfleet ship. Buncha kids not having a good day.” There was a momentary pause. “Maybe you can find Jojorn a boytoy among 'em, yeah?”

Gryzzk exhaled softly, igno…

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