[Humans for Hire] - Part 201

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*Author Note:* Waking up, and there's an award. Epic beauties, all of you!

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*Hurdop Prime, Eterina Acres*

The household was tense, and it showed. During the first day Grezzk and Kifab maintained as much distance as etiquette allowed, with Kifab spending most of his time in his experimental lab and Grezzk either in the shade with the children or quietly ensconced in her room with her tablet. Meals were still exceptional affairs, but Grezzk did not set foot in the kitchens themselves unless it was to carry dishes to the recycler.

The next morning after breakfast, Grezzk brought the infants outside to enjoy the autumn breeze and look at clouds as she told them stories and tried to pretend that Kiole wasn't going into a pit of venom with her business meeting. She was in the middle of telling them about the tall plants and the trees that gave all of Vilantia life when Jojorn approached slowly. Jojorn lifted her head respectfully before speaking.

"Freelady, I would speak with you."

There was a light frown. "Very well."

"I would ask that you speak with Father. Mother Eterina wanted to offer you both the opportunity to converse and perhaps come to accord."

Grezzk's voice and scent were cool. "The last words he spoke to Gro'zel and me were quite enough for my lifetime. I appreciate the hospitality of his house, and I will not speak ill of him."

"You will not speak to him at all."

"No."

"Forgive me, but I don't understand."

"If I tell you of it, it may color your opinion of him, and I would not subject a child to such a thing."

"I'm not a child, Lady." Jojorn chewed her lip for a moment. "Kifab has spoken of it - as a cautionary tale."

"As he should." Grezzk clenched her hands. "He cast us out from the Clan. Made us Nameless. Made my *children* Nameless. You carry scars of the body and bear them well - but there are other scars that are unseen."

"He should hear your thoughts."

"He should not. It is an old wound, Captain. Opening it again does no good."

Jojorn stayed quiet for a moment as she tended to Fizeht. "Before I met Father Kifab, my lifepath was certain. My crew would work for the Throne's Fortune, and when we were all of age we would pool our credits and buy a ship to spend our glory years taking vengeance on Vilantia. Then we would either die gloriously or...die gloriously." She smoothed Fizeht's fur. "Now I make cargo runs, sometimes we carry passengers to Vilantia, Hurdop, Terra, and Moncilat. It's odd - carrying Terrans who wish to live roughly, they almost always hurt themselves in one of the common areas despite the warnings."

Grezzk was unconvinced. "If you are trying to say that the gods do not always pay attention to our plans, I am well aware."

"I am. But the gods also punish those who think to take the work of the gods into their own hands."

"I am no instrument of the gods. I am a woman who was cast out of her clan for no good reason except to satisfy the whim of a Greatlord who had more greed than sense. Now I have a new clan to care for, and that is more important than any feelings. Even my own."

"We all carry the weight of that whim. Your husband, your wife, even your children will shoulder the burden when the time comes. How heavy will you make that burden for them?"

Grezzk took a breath as she looked at the children, the twins each looking to gnaw on an ear of one of their siblings before she glanced at Jojorn. "Captain, you spend entirely too much time speaking with my husband."

Jojorn's ears fluttered gently. "I spend more time of late speaking with Hamoen."

This caused a light start of sorts. "We had a boy at the estate by that name."

There was a light smile. "Yes you do. He is earnest but clumsy sometimes. I would ask your advice to know what he is pleased by." There was a pause and a glance around. "In time, I would ask that you entreat the gods for a blessing of a good marriage. As well as Father Gryzzk. And Father Kifab."

"You ask a great deal of me, Captain."

"I do. The Freecity of A'Jiela was not built in a day." Jojorn rose to hug Grezzk tightly. "Your husband and wife have both given me blessings I cannot measure. They've taught me to bear failure. They've shown that there are paths I can take, and those paths are perhaps better than anything I thought of before."

Grezzk leaned into the hug. "Child. Please. You speak wisdom beyond your years, but Kifab's actions will be felt for generations."

"Give those generations a chance to see forgiveness." Jojorn released the hug and left Grezzk to her own thoughts.

That evening, Grezzk went into the kitchen and aided the cooks with small duties. After the meal, she brought the children to the sitting room and took a glass of smallwine, keeping an eye on Kifab as he seemed to be searching for a topic of conversation. Finally, Grezzk's former lord made a desperate kick.

"Is the weather pleasant at your home, Lady Grezzk?"

Grezzk almost laughed at the gambit. "There is no 'weather' in an asteroid." She paused for a moment. "If I am being honest, I miss weather. Standing on the patio and feeling wind, sun...even rain and snow. They don't exist on Homeplate."

There was a blink as Kifab considered. "I. I apologize. I forget."

"You do, my Lord. But it is not your burden to bear."

Kifab chewed the inside of his cheek. "I perhaps speak out of turn. But I would be interested to know if we could investigate the possibility of creating a...weather room. For those who do not have such a luxury."

Grezzk blinked, looking at Kiole who seemed both amused and concerned. "I think...such a thing might be good."

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*Terran Foreign Legion Ship* Twilight Rose

Gryzzk was in his quarters, considering what to wear. Given who was going to be at the meal, anything even remotely militaristic was out. He paced, looked at his closet, looked at the printer, and finally came to a decision.

"Rosie?"

There was a long-suffering sigh. "Whatever this is, it better be important."

"Possibly. What have I interrupted?"

"I was going to be bathing, and Patty was going to be making with the watching me bathe."

"Having been interrupted by you on several occasions, we may call it even for one of them. Status of Sergeant Reilly?"

"Prepping Edwards and Denel for this meal-thing. You need fashion advice?"

"If it is available for offer."

"Oh this is gonna be hilarious. Patching you in."

There was a moment before the link was established, and finally Reilly's figure appeared on the holo. "Freelord. S'up?"