It was still early and most of the crew was still asleep and the ones awake were tired after a long night shift. The guard in the prison heard the door slide open but didn't look up, expecting one of the crew with a cup of coffee. When he didn't hear the sound of a cup hitting his desk, he lifted an eye from the book he was reading, recognized Eirik, and made to stand at attention, but Eirik waved it off.

"The morning guard change will be here in 20 minutes. Go sleep, I will watch the prisoners." Eirik said in a low voice and the guard did not say no. Who doesn't want to get off work early?

When he was gone Eirik started preparing the interrogation room. While he usually abhorred using it because of the sterile surroundings, it would do perfectly for this particular interrogation. It would help him focus on the important things.

When he was done he walked down to Sif's cell and kicked the cell door, making it rattle loudly. Sif, for her part, let out a loud "EEEP" and tumbled out of the bed. The look she sent his way when she untangled herself from the blanket was so full of vitriol and disgust that he was taken aback for a second.

She must have sensed it because it changed a moment later. "What kind of way is that to wake someone up!" She asked with indignation.

"The way you wake a prisoner headed for interrogation!" Eirik replied harshly and opened the cell door. "Now move, I haven't got all day."

"But I am not ready! I need a shower and..." Sif didn't get any further as Eirik stepped inside and grabbed her by the arm.

"I said move!" He growled as he lead her out of the cell. Sif knew this battle was not worth fighting. She still had options, but she hated being deprived of the time to prepare. Where was this coming from? He had been melted butter between her fingers just a few days ago.

Eirik walked her into the interrogation room and sat her down in a chair before leaving again. He returned shortly with a bottle of water of 4 cups of coffee.

"I didn't know you were such a heavy coffee drinker?" Sif asked as he set it all down. Eirik shot her an apologetic look before replying. "They are not for me." And leaving the room once more. Sif could hear muffled talking in the hallway but could not make out the words. Only that there were more than 3 people on the other side.

Soon after, the conversation stopped and a single pair of boots walked away. She knew those boots, those were Eirik's. Why was he leaving? For the first time since this all started, she felt a twitch of true fear in her stomach. Who was waiting outside the door? The answer came a moment later when the door opened and 4 men walked in, all of them with some resemblance to Eirik. She didn't notice that, however. What she did notice, was the sunken eyes and the hollow glares they all looked at her with. Like predators looking at prey that had not yet understood the danger, it was in.

"Who are you?" She said, trying her best to make her voice carry authority and command, but she could hear the slight quivering behind the words. If she could hear it, so could they.

"Who we are is not important, but for the sake of clarity, I will oblige your curiosity," The elder of the 4 said. "I am Mads, and these 3 are Peter, Matthis, and Jonas. We are 4 of 6 brothers and a sister. You have already met the 5th one, Eirik."

"You are Eirik's brothers?" Sif asked, both confused and now genuinely scared. She had heard the stories from the men working under Dalle and she knew enough to understand that these men carried an entirely different form of hatred than Eirik did. Eirik's anger was white-hot and burning. These men's anger was ice-cold and patient. The silent wrath of men wronged, armed with the knowledge that revenge would be theirs sooner rather than later.

"Yes. And from the look on your face, I take it you know exactly who we are and what we might be doing here. You are sitting on the information we need to get what we want. You will give us that information, or I promise you 2 things. Number 1, we will pull the information out of you. Eventually, we always do. Number 2. No one will find you beautiful once we are finished.!" Mads' voice had become little more than a growl as he finished speaking and he didn't even have to get up before Sif started spilling the secrets.

"Pretty women. Always the same, no matter where you go. Threaten to take away the one thing they have in this life and they crumble faster than sand structures" Mads thought with a satisfied smile as he started writing down the important things in the woman's desperate rant.

________________________

Eirik was watching the interrogation room through surveillance. He had hoped for this, he would have hated to see the woman ruined. He knew he would never be able to extract that information himself, she would twist him around her little finger. So he had brought in his brothers. They did not suffer from the same weakness he did. Their time in captivity had made them darker. Colder. less empathic. He had no doubts they would hurt Sif if she resisted, but from the sound of things, she was singing to her heart's content.

Eirik was also taking notes, filling in the blanks in the information they already had as fast as he could. He wanted to get moving! Eventually, he left the work to Signe. He had one thing he needed to do before they could go on their way.

___________________________

Things on the Glorpil homeworld had not changed much since the prophets had sent soldiers to collect the one they claimed to be false. None had seen the prophets or even heard anything regarding them. So when a metal chariot descended from the sky once more, the excitement was so heavy in the air that it could almost be felt like a physical touch.

As much as Eirik tried to cut the visit short, it still took him a few hours to relay the message that in a few weeks, new Terrans would arrive to start helping them improve life and science. But before Eirik could leave he was approached by Narvik and his family.

"Narvik, what a pleasant surprise!" Eirik exclaimed happily as he recognized the recent member of his crew.

"Likewise, captain. My family wishes to express their gratitude for not only returning me but for returning our lives to what we once knew Though I suspect that will not last long" Narvik said with a small smile.

"I think you are right in that regard. And no gratitude is needed. If anything, I should thank you for having enough faith in Terrans to allow me to rectify the mistakes of my people. In any case, What can I do for you and yours?" Eirik asked.

"I wish to return to your service, to work on the ship. I may not have a lot of skills, but am an excellent infiltrator and stalker and I am more than willing to work in the kitchen if nothing else." Narvik explained.

"And your family?? Do they approve? And if so, why?" Eirik demanded.

"We approve." Came the reply from the elderly male Glorpil that had talked to Eirik initially. "And we approve because our son wants to make up for the deceitful way we have allowed our people to be used and misled."

"You have nothing to atone for, but I happily accept your son back on the ship. I know Jeanette is missing his lessons. That woman always did enjoy teaching." Eirik said with a smile. "Go to the shuttle after you have said your goodbyes. We need to get moving."

Narvik and his family walked off to the side to say their goodbyes While Eirik proclaimed Narvik's father the official representative of their people to the Terrans that would arrive soon. much to the surprise of Narvik and his family. When Eirik was finished and waiting for the shuttle, Narvik's father approached him.

"Why did you do that?" He asked bluntly.

"Because, if Narvik is any indicator of the kind of person you are, you are a good choice to function as a mediator. The announcement affords you no special privileges or titles. It is merely to make things easier for everyone. If they know that you have been selected to facilitate communication with the people I am sending here, they will be more open to approaching with genuine issues and questions. The other way around, for my people to know they can come to you with any cultural issues or questions, or if they need to find a specialist within a certain field of work, that puts them at ease and reduces work-related stress quite a lot.

A rigid and structured chain of command is the key to success in this endeavor. And I wish for your people to succeed. It would set a new standard for the approach of sentient species below the scientific threshold for admittance into the galactic community." Eirik explained patiently. He knew that some of the words would have no meaning to the Glorpil, but he hoped the general meaning of his explanation was understood.

Narvik's father chewed on the words for a moment before speaking. "That makes sense. Instead of running around like a herd of Muskivv's* without a herd leader, we will be able to concentrate on the path that needs to be traveled." The words made Narvik sigh loudly, causing his father to snap at him. "You may not think there is much wisdom gained from a line of cattle herders, but your ancestor's words were more profound than you give them credit for!"

Narvik hurriedly retreated into the shuttle behind Eirik, who chuckled at the family antics before being overcome with melancholy. He had not had any family time since he had created his empire. He needed to correct that. As soon as this was over, he was taking a vacation with the entire family!

__________________________________________

The ride back to the ship was fairly uneventful aside from Eirik probing Narvik on reasons for coming back and getting nothing more His reception back on the ship was a joyous occasion, leading to an impromptu party with both food and drink flowing far more freely than Eirik would have liked, had he had his wits about him.

But as it were, he ended up fairly drunk as one of the last people awake, only Bjørn and Jesper keeping up with their captain. Bjørn on account of his size, it took far more alcohol to affect them than a regular Terran, and Jesper on account of many experiences in heavy drinking sessions, But the 2 were busy engaging in a rather deep and philosophical debate about women, Bjørn trying and failing to hide his interest in getting to know Ulla, and Jesper trying to convince to Bjørn to work as his wingman next time they hit port

Eirik decided to leave the 2 men be and go check up on the report his brothers had left for him. It didn't occur to him that said report would be in the prison, and he happily made his way down the corridors, whistling a little tune as he went.

_________

Sif had been relieved when Eirik's 4 brothers had kept their word and returned her unharmed to her cell once she had told them what she knew. As furious as she had been with this foiling all her plans, there had been no doubt in her mind that the threat to her person had been very real and very close.

"What would 10 years of prison and torture do to a man? Let alone 4 related men, suffering together?" She thought with a shiver. She also had to find another way to entice Eirik. That's when she heard it. His boots against the floor and a merry whistle on his lips. But it sounded wrong. His steps were off balance and ever so slightly stumbling. She heard him exchange a few words with the guard and immediately noted the slurred speech.

"He is drunk!" She realized. There would be no better opportunity! But how to get him to come to her without making it obvious...

She remembered that he was whistling when he arrived and guessed that music was one of this man's stress reliefs. She took a gamble, cleared her throat, and started singing an old Danish song she had remembered since childhood.

Her voice carried through the prison, clear and mild, and she could hear everything and everyone within ear-shot stopping what they were doing as she sang. She had closed her eyes as she was singing. It was the one thing she liked doing, just for the sake of doing it, but she would normally never allow other people to hear her sing, but this was a special case.

But to her surprise, she heard Eirik's voice join in as she was about halfway through the song.

"Den dag der nu snart er slut, kan du aldrig forandre ved..."

"The day that is about to end, Can you never make changes to..."

They continued to sing, her sitting upright in her cell, him standing outside the cell door, both of them lost in the rare moment of togetherness they felt over this shared piece of minuscule localized culture. When the song finished, the silence left in its wake was almost deafening, and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her in a war he had not looked at her before. He didn't say a word as he unlocked the cell and walked toward her, and she didn't break the silence as she laid down on the bed with arms open to embrace him.