The landing went smooth as well. Buzz set her down on the designated parkbay neatly and cut thrust and internal gravity. Grayln's .67 gravity takes over and you all feel quite a bit lighter. He throws a couple switches and shuts down the pilot console, locking it against access.

Everybody meets in the crew common area. Go-Go says, "Remember, people, leave your toys here. If you can't, then I'll restrict you to the ship. Keep in mind that *any* thing you do here reflects on all of us." She takes another sip of kaff, then says, "Lena has the anchor watch until I can arrange for some security. The rest of you, your time's your own until local dawn. Looks about mid afternoon there; mind the 27 hour days. Get some fresh air, be back by dawn ready for work."

Lightfoot: "Given what Go-Go's told us about this rock, I think we'll get in more trouble by taking weapons with us, than we might by going unarmed. So...I'll stow my body pistol and leave it here. Having said that, I'm interested in an evening of drinking and whoreing. Anyone game for that?"

'Kira's always up for a night of carousing, though leaving his piece behind makes him feel half naked..He'll do it though cause he knows he'd prolly get in more trouble if he brought it..

When you ask Go-Go's advice, she says "Don't take more than 3 or 400 Imperials' worth. If they charge you more than 5 reals for a drink, you're getting robbed. And stick with the licensed girls; they're government inspected. When I was here a year and a half ago, the going rate for the girls was about 50 reals, 120 for all night. And make sure you pay them; they'll attach the ship's fund if you don't."

Alan removes his pistol and places it in his foot locker before joining the rest of the crew's designated fun patrol. "Hold up guys!" He moves up between Lightfoot and Kira putting an arm around each of their shoulders ,"Either of you know what Carrillian cooking is? Cause if you do, and you like em I know just the place to go."

Buzz jumps out of his chair and heads with General to his quarters to get the monkey out of his suit and into his "dress blues" (a mock military uniform with Genral insignia and a name tag reading "Chaos". He stows his pistol and shoves a pair of gloves in his pocket after changing into dirtside clothes.

A'Rolr growls softly at the crews choices of fun. "I too will go, if just to make sure your liquor filled carcasses make it back to the ship." With that he turns and heads to his quarters and changes into his planetside outfit, complete with "Lineage" sash the details his accomplishments...and defeats, at least to any that read Aslan. He also secures in the inside of his belt the wood and bone throwing edge or "akhaeh" adjusting it a final time he returns to the group crosses his arms and waits solemnly.

Kira, A'Rolr, Lightfoot, and Tornquist head out the personnel hatch dressed up in 'shoreleave' clothes, mainly civvies except for A'Rolr, who's decked out. You cut down the alley of the parkbay and take note of the number, Parkbay 41. There is a walkway among the parkbays with a maglev strip down the center. The parkbay itself is concrete, and raised about 4 meters high and a meter thick. You know that this is probably reinforced concrete, built to the limits of Tech 10. A sign with an arrow points to the left through an openning along the maglev strip. It's about 100 meters to the end of the cluster where there's a hack stand. A sign in Anglic and something you can't read says 'Shuttle Service to Zone Gate leaves every 15 minutes.' It looks to be over half a klick to the end of the park bays.

Buzz catches up to you about 5 minutes later, and the shuttle comes by a couple minutes after that. You climb onboard. The driver looks you over. "'Little Carrill', eh? We'll be at the Gate in a couple minutes.

The ride is uneventful, and the shuttle stops outside a security post. A large sign in 6 languages says 'Warning. Possession of weapons outside the Extraterritorality Zone is unlawful and punishable by fines, loss of access privileges, deportation, or all of the above. You have been warned.' The languages are Anglic, the local dialect that you can't read, Japanese, Chinese, some Germanic-seeming language that you can't read, and some squiggles that don't resemble anything most of you have read.

You enter the gate house. Two uniformed people are there. Nobody 'fleeps' when they go through the door. One says "Idents please." You hand him your ids, answer a couple questions about what your trip to town is for, and how long you're going to be outside the Zone, then he has you stand against the wall for the pictures on your passes. These passes are white. "For all you first-timers, your badge has been chemically treated to turn red when it expires. Two hours before it expires it will turn orange. This process is pretty accurate and legally valid. Do not attempt to modify your pass; it will turn red instantly and you will be subject to arrest and expulsion to the Zone. If it is determined you have attempted to modify your pass, your extra-Zone privileges will be revoked pending review of the Starport authorities.

"When you return here, you will need to turn in your passes. If you wish to leave the Zone again, your pass will be reset to the new return time. For those of you with personal communications gear, this gear must be registered here before use. Your gear must be set for the lowest output power to make connection with the nearest repeater in order not to interfere with other service users. These repeaters are owned by private companies and are subject to an access charge and airtime charges. You or your ship will be responsible for all airtime charges used by your communications equipment."

OOC: Think 'cellfones'

You all register and initial the paperwork to allow the private companies to bill the Port for your airtime charges.

One of the Gralynites looks at A'Rolr's throwing stick. He says something that sounds totally alien to most of you; you recognise it as Trohk, the main language of the Aslans and hands A'Rolr what looks like some string.

Alan looks over the documents he's been given to sigh and asks, "What rate are they going to charge us to use the communication gear we already paid for?"

The man says, "30 sestinas per standard minute. There are 100 sestinas in a real." From your reading, you figure a real is worth half an Imperial credit at best.

You all slide your comms over the counter to plug them into the planetary comm system and get assigned temporary comm codes. The guy explains this to you and makes sure you write down your comm codes. He taps a couple keys to update Wanderfall's computer, now tied into the planetary network. He smiles and says, "Your passes are good until noon tomorrow. Welcome to Gralyn. Enjoy your stay."

You walk out the door on the other side of the gate to a covered walkway about 30 meters long to the maglev station. Tickets to Corbingrad are a mere 4 reals; debit 2 credits each. The maglev leaves about 10 minutes after you get there. The trip takes 5 minutes to the stop marked 'Little Carrill'.

It is now 1406. Outside the well-kept maglev station is a street carnival. Most of the streets are covered; native Carrillians grow up in habitats, and open spaces tends to make them nervous at times. The air is warm, but thin; Gralyn doesn't have much atmospheric pressure, maybe half an atmosphere; you'll have to look it up. But its partial pressure of oxygen is enough to allow you to breathe freely without feeling too tired or smothered. The street scene should be louder, but the thin air doesn't carry the sound quite as well. There is an info kiosk clearly labeled as such in four languages, including that inscrutible squiggles of written Trohk.

Buzz will keep in mind the usual joints that pay the folks at the kiosk to throw their names out, and will ask who has anything interesting going on these days. This will give him a good list of the party joints, rowdy joints and rip off joints to choose from.

You find a place called 'The Hydroponic Shed', and go in. It's a typical Carrillian neighborhood restaurant/bar. The hostess, a girl about 25, sits you at a table by the window. A'Rolr doesn't seem to faze her at all. She hands you menus written in Anglic and a Germanic looking language, except for A'Rolr, whose menu is covered with what looks to you like squiggles. She gives him a bow, says something in Trohk, and disappears, coming back with a platter of ale mugs & coffee. She puts down a cup of heaventea in front of A'Rolr and leaves you to read the menus. Carrillian quisine is mostly a blend of Nordic and Thai. The restaurant can seat about 30, and is a bit less than half filled.

A'Rolr smiles at the waitress, nodding at her attempt at Trokh "You honor me with your attempt at my language, Tleftuaw." He picks up the mug and drinks heavily form it. "Ahhh! It is good to have true food and drink again. Better than that mess that we get on board...."

She smiles at you and says "Thank you, sir. We have some fresh gruut, just got in from Aikhiy. And we also have some tlao spice sauce for it."

Buzz will order Bami Steak and a bowl of mixed fruit, a mug of ale and a glass of any juice the girlie can muster up.....and a highchair for the monkey, please, "Unless you would like him to sit on YOUR lap," he tells the waitress.

She chuckles. "Bami steak and fruit cup. Cute monkey. How do you want that cooked?"

"Medium rare on the steak, fruit cup AND monkey raw," Buzz answers.

'Kira says to the waitress in Erde "steamed rice, boneless spareribs and you, what are you doing later"

She chuckles some more and answers you back in Erde, "Taking care of my 3 year old. Want those ribs in the honey ginger sauce?"

"Yes please, and some Zapana if you will." Not one to let a possible catch go away, "The babysitter won't mind an extra hours duty will she?" He smiles his best ladykilling smile..

She chuckles some more. "My husband might."

"Ah, my appologies. I didn't mean to intrude." 'Kira just looks about seeing whatother possible "targets" there might be.

She chuckles. "No offense taken. And congratulations for getting out while the getting was good. Your accent. Lanixohn?"

The coffee tastes pretty good. It's naturally sweet and VERY smooth, moreso than ship's kaff. When you glance at the menu under 'drinks', you find coffee is *NOT* listed but Zapana is, and so is Zapanae.

Not being one to experiment with different foods, Lightfoot will duplicate Buzz's order, "Minus the highchair, that is. Oh, and I love kids." Wink, smile.

As one often does when in a new place, he will from his seat survey the joint, admiring any art they have on the walls or that sort of thing. In the course of things he'll scope out the patrons and try to get a feel for the place.

Alan looks over the menu and shrugs, looking up at the waitress he says, "What do you like here? I always have problems with ethnic cuisine I'm not familiar with."

She shrugs again. "If you're an Imperial, try the bifstek. We grow our own vegetables, culture our own meats. Our carnicultures date back to the founding of the Assembly. We managed to bring a live sample out with us after the Solomanis attacked us last year. That, my daughter, my husband, and the clothes on our backs were the only things we have of home." She finishes taking orders and heads to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she comes back with salads and the monkey's fruit cup. She puts some salad dressings down on the table, refills everybody's Zapana and A'Rolr's heaventea, and heads over to take care of the other tables.

About 15 minutes later, she serves your meals. This is some of the best chow you guys have had in a long time. You take your time eating, savoring every bite, with the waitress keeping your Zapana cups and ale mugs filled.

At about 1531, Buzz's comm buzzes. It's Go-Go, letting you guys know that Korparan has made it down safely.

While you guys are finishing up, a half dozen men in Gralyn Navy uniforms come in. One of them calls out to the waitress in Erde. She comes running out of the kitchen and gets swooped up in a hug. The others chuckle at him a minute. One of them glances your way, checks you out, and pays attention to what's going on in their own group. She seats them, gives them Zapana and ale, but doesn't bother to take their order. They talk among themselves in Erde.

The waitress comes over with a large platter of assorted light pastries. Even A'Rolr likes them. There are several flavors, including a berry one (berry flavored dough, not filled) and some made from what tastes *almost* like chocolate.

Lightfoot, to his comrades at the table, "What are these guys saying? Do any of you understand them?"

'Kira turns to Lightfoot and says "Nothing to worry about, it's just her brother and some buddies after some "home cooking". Thing that gets me, you notice they're *all* wearing green tags??"

Alan nods and munches on his pastry, "Yeah, everyone of them a resident alien. I wonder how large a contingent of them make up the armed forces here?" Looking back to the table he asks, "Any of you know of any religious or cultural taboo here against armed service by the locals?"

"It is better to pay for another's death, than it is to have one of your own die for free." laughs the huge Aslan. "Mercenaries are often a better option and cheaper than to pay for your own military. Especially on worlds with heavy traffic and lots of eager bodies."

"Truer words were never spoken," Buzz adds, "Especially when you need sufficient cannon fodder or a good scapegoat."

"Hey guys?? I thought we were here for a little R&R?? I don't plan on dying anytime soon." 'Kira looks over to the navy boys. "And I don't think we really have to worry about it." Looks over to the big Aslan, "Though I admit, dying in battle is an honourable thing."

"I'm with him," Buzz flips a thumb, "So if any of you noticed insignia denoting 'Recruiter', say something so we can run like hell."

Buzz has lived most of his life in the Deep, with some side trips into Daibei and Dark Nebula Sectors while with the Caledonian Scouts. Most locals don't have any religious prohibitions against shooting somebody to protect themselves. It's survival, after all.

The charts say Graylyn is about TL10, while the Carrillians were TL14, so it would make sense to reflag some Carrillian refugees under a local flag to take advantage of the advanced technology. The downside is getting parts for those boats; they were Carrillian-made, and the factories that built them aren't supposed to be there anymore thanks to the Solomanis.

The waitress comes back with another reload of pastries, lots of chocolate ones this time.

Kira says, "Your brother and his friends just back from deep run?"

She says, "A little run to Botany Bay, then Khtearle, Rintarna, and back. He's been out about 2 and a half months. Botany Bay's part of the Union, Khtearle has a Gralyn colony and local ally there. He has a few days here then it's back to space awhile."

'Kira nods and says, "The pay at the end of the month mushr make it all worth it.. I know what it's like to be out for a while. More Zapana please??"

"No problem." She pours you a full cup and takes the caraffe over to the Gralyn sailors and says something to them in Erde, her Main Belt accent clear to your ears. They look at your table, and one of them calls out in Erde to you.

'Kira grabs his mug and stands, "C'mon, we've just been invited to their table, think we can out drink them?"

Alan shakes his head and mumbles, "Why does it always come down to this? The first day back from liberty is bad enough without being hung over." Looking back over to Kira he says more loudly, "Of course we can out drink them, they haven't had any recent practice. They have been locked up in an alcohol free zone for some time. Why, is there going to be money riding on this?"

'Kira shakes his head "No money, just ships pride. I'll bet we could do a number on these homeboys anyday"

Lightfoot, with some dessert in his mouth: "Outdrink them? Of course we can. And should! I vote that we give it a go. Besides...maybe they can direct us to a good cathouse, or a good barfight."

Alan stands slowly and waits until the entire group has committed to going or not before saying, "Lets try not to turn this into a bar fight, good or not. OK?"

"Barfight??" 'Kira looks back and grins, "Wouldn't it be great to have thees guys on our side? After all, just think of all the pent up energy they've got!"

5 minutes later, Korporan is walking inside the Hydroponic Shed, seeing his shipmates with a bunch of Gralyn Navy types.

Lightfoot smiles, and pauses from his beer. "Ah, Korparan, welcome back. Hopefully the doctors didn't bugger you. Join us. The food and desserts here are first-rate. And we're teaching these Gralyn Navy lads how to drink."

The Schmooze smiles and folds his arms over his chest. Standing to one side he listens to the other's banter. He orders a drink and takes in the rest of the bar while seating arrangements are worked out. Nursing his drink, he finally sits down and introduces himself to anyone he doesnt know and lightly chats with those he does. "Yeah, the doctor didnt touch me, but I think I might give the nurse a call later."

The Schmooze sauters over to the table where the off duty navy types are and introduces himself. "Koparan's me name. From the Federation of Daibei. Sorry, I didnt catch where you all are from but I see from your nametags that its not Grayln. I'd like to hear the story of how you all came to be here while we drink ourselves into oblivion."

The guy that did most of the talking to the waitress says, "Hadjii Morris. Originally from Carrill System. We were crew on the CSN _Spitfire_, on routine patrol, when the Solomani hit Carrill. We got there about a week late; we never saw the Sollies, they didn't stick around, just shot and ran. Whole system was a mess, no working government above the level of habitat steering committee. We docked at Sao Paulo. They took over 60% casualites, only had a few thousand left. Stuck around there for a bit til we could requisition a freighter, packed it with sleepers, including my sister and her family, then came here and applied for political assylum. Some of the crew stayed behind to help out, but we stayed with the ship. The Gralyns offered to take us all into their Navy and keep us at our current ranks. Only thing that happened was, the empty slots were filled with Gralyns, and our Skipper rotated off for a few months until he could go through the Gralyn brass academy.

"The Gralyns aren't half bad. It's better than being in the Peacekeepers. So far, we haven't been ordered to shoot any civilians." He takes a sip of beer. "_Spitfire_ got reflagged as GSN, one of a half dozen Avengers that make up the 417th Escort Squadron. I've heard some more got snapped up by Rintarna and some of the other local governments. Sure would hate to have to shoot at them."

The waitress brings out a stack of plates and a large bowl full of some kind of meat and vegetables and puts it in the middle of the table. She puts a plate in front of each Navy and one in front of Korporan. The Gralyns dig in, filling plates with brown rice and the meat/veggie mix, eating it with chop tongs, washing it down with that pale light beer, talking a bit in Erde to themselves and in Anglic to the rest of you.

The Schmooze smiles warmly at the waitress, not having learned her name he just says "Thanks miss, looks awful tasty." Koparan digs in heartilly, rubbing his arm occassionally. Finally he looks up and says to the navy boys "All you guys had to have the red plague serum shot? Funny it doesn hurt as much as other shots I've had."

A'Rolr still eyed the group warily as he sipped at his drink. Although he had moved to their table, he was still wary. As usual the others were consumed with sex and alcohol and allowed it to deaden their attentions. He motioned for their server. "I would like a tray of T'ilk'Ri." ordered the huge Aslan, asking for a tray of the seasoned meat strips, that were often so difficult to save on-ship. A'Rolr then turned back to the group, eyeing their uniforms for any recognizable markings of combat or units.

One of Hadjii's buddies pipes up. "Of course. All in this section of space recieve it. Not sure how it's made, but was told it's different process from other serums. Unprotected, Red Plague is 98% lethal. With the serum, maybe 30%. Strange thing though, Red Plague is resistant to TL14 medicine. It's almost as if it's *designed* to kill humans."

Another Gralyn speaks up, his Erde accent coming through clearly. "Some think Red Plague is Fteirle war virus." He looks at A'Rolr. "No offense. Others think it's part of the legend of the Keys To The Kingdom, an Ancient site lost somewhere in the Deep, waiting to be openned."

A'Rolr shrugs. "Red Plague is no Fteirle-made thing. Such weapons are cowardly and dishonorable. We much prefer close combat, to feel your enemy's last breath against your skin, scent his blood as it spills in the air, give him the honorable death he deserves for challanging your valor and skill." He sips his ale. But the Keys To The Kingdom, this I've heard. It's part of the legend of the Ikhwar Ahoih, the War Of The Gods. What you humans call the 'Final War' of your 'Ancients'."

The second Gralyn nods. "So I've heard of your kind. Not many believe it's a Fteirle thing. But the Plague itself seems new. It took out Anatar, in the Tharrill System, almost 200 years ago, after several centuries of colonisation. And a few ships come into normal space, crews decimated by it, every so often. Checks of their log tapes show they were nowhere near Anatar." He sips some of his ale. "But log tapes can be fixed to cover smuggling. Everyone knows that to go to Anatar is to invite Death."

Koparan perks up at the mention of money . "Are you saying this virus can penetrate a vacc suit?"

One of the Gralyns pulls out a PDA and tries browsing for it. "One moment." He glances at the display. "Translating from the Novarus... Last expedition to Anatar, the landing team wore full suits. Full decontam, no breaches. Within 48 hours, everybody on landing party *and* on ship infected, all dead 72 hours later." He looks up. "Either decontam didn't work, or virus small enough to penetrate suits."

'Kira winces.."Ouch..I don't like that already.."

The Gralyn nods. "Ja, which is why Red Plague serum is a must. Better 7 to 3 odds against than 98 to 2 against.

"Anybody go over gear taken out to see if it was bad decon or if the virus did indeed penetrate the suits for sure?"Buzz asks, taking a drink of ale.

The Gralyn pages down. "No. Nobody wanted close to ship. Was condemned by Tharrill Admiralty and nudged into sun as prophylactic measure."

Alan looks on drinking slowly," What else do they say about the keys to the kingdom?"

One of the other Gralyns says, "Wasn't there a book about it?" He pulls out his PDS and scrawls a search onto it. "Yes. 'The Keys To The Kingdom', printed out of the Lanyard Colonies in 1084, just before the Solomani Rim War. It's part of a commercial database, 300 plus pages, 45 reals access charge. No copies in free library database here. Also, some mention in 'Legends of Reavers Deep', printed out of Caledon, original printing 995, current revision 1120. Copy of this in Gralyn Archives, 5 reals access charge."

'Kira sighs and sets back in his seat, resigned to staying in the restaurant talking about lost keys or something..."Hey wait a minuite, what do you mean...'Opened'???"

The Gralyn says "Openned. Explored. Exploited. Would be lots of money, good hard valuta as is said here, to find and exploit Ancients ruins."

'Kira ponders "Seems if they were innoculated it wouldn't matter. But what do I know, I'm only a fighter jock. When are we gonna start that bar crawl fellas? No disrespect against this place but I'm getting kinda antsy."

The Gralyn shrugs. "Vaccine is 30% effective, will give you a chance to survive getting the Plague. Won't keep you from getting it. Not even Imperial medicine is good enough to cure it."

Hadjii speaks up. "Pretty good bar down the way a bit. Expatriate place. Some offduty GDF'ers, merchies, outworlders, you name it, even some nonhumans. Proctors rarely go there. Place called the 'Dusty Comet'. When you walk out the door here, turn left, go down three blocks to Kiosko Street, right a block and a half. It'll be in the alley halfways down the block on the left."

The Schmooze will write down the references to the books on the paper napkin and tells everyone "Hey, Ill have a look at these later and tell you what I find". He starts to say something else, closes his mouth and stuffs the paper in his pocket. Looking around at the others "Well if we are all done eating, lets finish these drinks and hit the next spot." Koporan pulls out his communicator and makes a call...."Hello Lenya?"

There is a 3 second delay, and her accented voice says "Doctor Andropov. Whom am I speaking with pliz?

'Kira brightens, "Sounds like the place we're looking for, anyone else game?"

"You are acting like a rutting Ti'Qlis." snarled A'Rolr at Kira. "Is that all you can think of is drinking and whoring at each and every place we make planetfall?" Draining the last of his drink he turned back to the Graylyns. "What dangers can we expect planetside or on the trip out?" The huge Aslan asks politely.

'Kira turuns to the huge Aslan, "And what's wrong with a little fun? We may be facing death in the next month or so and I want to know I left a little piece of me behind!"

A'Rolr laughs a sound that is seldom heard and even more chilling. "With as many 'pieces" as you have left behind, you could form your own colony!!"

Keys, history, dates, books...all of this has been too much for Lightfoot and he leans back, smiling, letting his eyes glaze over while he remembers the good old days of his scouting career, when he worked alone amongst the stars. Kira's words rouse Lightfoot from his ruminations. "Ergh." He shakes off a few alcohol-assisted mental cobwebs. "Hey," he says, now finding the power of speech and addressing the Graylans. "Can you guys recommend a good whorehouse?"

One of the Gralyns chuckles. "Yeah, back in the Zone. Check the directory under 'Escort Services'."

Korporan

"Doctor Andropov this is the fan club of the most beautiful doctor on Grayln. Namely Koparan, I was just checking to see when you might be available for a little fun planetside."

Four seconds later, she says "Ah. Gospodin Borsalla. Dobre utra. Am not scheduled for liberty for two more days. Sorry. Have found friends in Corbingrad, da?"

"Yes, found my crew. Wish you were here though. Well I guess Ill have to wait. See you in a couple of days. Maybe we can meet someplace. K? Bye Bye."

Four seconds later, you hear her say, "Dosva", and the line goes dead.

The Schmooze puts in a call to Go-Go and relays the information about the 'keys of the kingdom' and asks her to make a hard copy download. "Charge it to my account" He says. He also lets her now everyone is fine and no one is in jail...yet.

Go-Go says, "No problem. How many layers down do you want me to go, and what's your spending cap?"

'The Keys To The Kingdom' 45 reals and 'Legends of Reavers Deep' 5 reals. Try n geh both a these and anythin else ye can dig up. Lets cap it at 100 credits or 200 reals unless ye find somethin real interestin. Forget aboot the hard copy, if ye could just save it somewheres safe that would be grayt. See ya later and thanx." He shuts his fone.

Lightfoot settles back in his chair. "Well, the Dusty Comet works for me. Maybe I'll do the whoring part tomorrow night. Besides, times like this remind me of something I heard somewhere, something about alcohol giving the desire but taking away the ability. So true. Let's let our Graylan friends get some food down their gullets and then we'll go a-crawlin'."

One of the Gralyns says, "This system is disgustingly boring. Commerce raiders tend to stay away from here due to the strength of the Navy here. And they're laying down even more new SDBs even as we speak, thanks to the latest war between the Carters and the Solomans. And with the technology transfers from us expatriate Carrillians, the Union will become another shining light in the darkness."

Hadjii nods, adding, "From what I've read of the Long Night, I think we're headed for another one. Maker help us, but I doubt the Caledonians and Craig's Federation can hold against the Solomanis, not with those idiot Imperials pounding on their front door. The survivors will be star nations like Gralyn here, and Grendal, a bit far out of the way and no threat to anyone right now. By the time they *do* become a threat to somebody, there'll be nobody left. Mark my words."

'Kira fidgets about a bit.."Um, you ah....don't "draft" off worlders here, do you?"

The Gralyns finish up in about 10 minutes, and the waitress brings over the two checks. Hadjii grabs your check, and the rest of the Gralyns pull out several blue-green pieces of paper and drop them on the table. Hadjii glances at the checks, counts up the tab in his head, then pulls up a bit over half of the bills and heads to the cash register. "Go on ahead, I'll square this and meet you there."

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