The selection of rooms took exactly as long as Dave had suspected. The moment one twin chose a room, the other demanded that they get the room because it was clearly the best one, and they should get equal rooms. Then different rooms were selected, and they were still somehow unequal.

In the end, Miss Molly ended up with a tape measure, checking the distance to the fridge, snack cabinets, and showers to provide a perfectly balanced set of distances between both selections, which naturally put them side by side in the center of the group of bunks.

The infant twin boys stayed next to Molly, who took a room at the end, and Dave took the far side so that nobody could escape out that end to wander the ship unattended.

They had already tried, assuming that they could find a better room if they just looked hard enough.

That was likely true, at least in their minds. The technicians and logistics staff had a number of odd characters in their ranks who would be highly entertaining to a pair of small children who were bored from days and days of being cramped into a cargo hold where they couldn’t even sit down properly.

They had just had soup and sandwiches, but the dinner meal would be served soon, getting everyone back on schedule with the ship and past the initial food scare which led to refugees hoarding and fighting over supplies in cases where they thought they might be limited.

None of the officers wanted to deal with that here, so they planned two meals back to back, and they would be placing the meal plans and times for the rest of the journey up on the wall once the buffet was set up.

Feeding a small city’s worth of refugees was no small task either, even if they had the technology on Terminus to do it, they still needed hundreds of staff to keep the lines moving and get everyone fed. Five floors, with roughly eight thousand people per floor, now that they had realized that there was more space at the top and spread out, meant that each Battalion’s logistics staff would need to make over two tonnes of food for every meal.

If they didn’t already have experienced staff who had dealt with Infantry Regiments before, it could have been a disaster.

Back in the First Battalion dorms, Dave had a great idea to keep the kids entertained. “Why don’t we go have lunch with all the Reavers in this section? They’re having the same thing that the people you traveled with will be having, but I’ll bet they will be lots more fun, and they haven’t seen a kid as cute as you are in a while.”

Molly smiled at that joke. Kids on a Reaver vessel? That was actually extremely common, but to see kids who didn’t grow up with space travel and violence was a rare thing.

“Or they could come to eat with the rest of the Family? We have our own section in the middle of the ship, set aside for passengers.” Mary Tarith suggested, walking in through the open door.

“Mary Tarith, meet Miss Molly, an adoption worker from Kepler Terminus.” Dave introduced them.

“Oh, I remember, you were the coordinator for the new food bank drive just before things started to get messy back home.” Mary declared, looking at Molly.

“I am honestly shocked you remember me. I mean, you’re practically a trillionaire, from what I’ve heard, so why would you remember someone like me, who only organized one event?” Molly asked, then covered her mouth, not having intended to say some of that out loud.

“I always remember competent people. If things had gone better and the planetary government hadn’t managed to shut us out of the news media, I would have likely taken you on as an employee. We’re not as rich as you think though, we just give the entire family’s charity spending through one organization.

There were hundreds of us on the planet, with many different businesses, so it adds up, even if each one only gives a few thousand to a cause.” Mary Tarith explained.

That was how she had organized things in the Family. Instead of doing things personally, which could draw attention to a number of questionable business practices or to the Reaver branches of the family, who weren’t directly involved with the planetary branch, Mary Tarith made a separate foundation to do all the charity work, and she became the spokesperson for it.

That led to a number of rumors going around about their hidden power and wealth, but that was always the way with old-money families. Their power was buried deep, though this time it had turned out to be too shallow to keep things under control when the planet’s government had sided with the Rebels.

“We might as well go to them, or they will come to us. Mary here is pushing hard for Commander Keres to become her son-in-law, so I’m sure she won’t pass up a chance to befriend his remaining family.” Dave smirked.

“If only that daughter of mine hadn’t made it so hard. I mean, between becoming a full conversion Cyborg, and his closest confidant and combat partner? I don’t need to pull them together, I need to shift their dynamic apart enough that they can see each other as potential romantic partners and not battle brothers.” Mary sighed.

“If they’re that close, do they need to get married at all? They sound like they’re practically family already.” Molly asked.

“See, Nico is supposed to take over the Family, as the oldest child of the current leader. That might not happen, since she loves Mecha too much to sit at home and do paperwork, but if she’s married then we can have them adopt a few kids, or gene sequence some from the pair of them, and continue the bloodline that way, skipping a generation to give the lead to my grandchildren.” Mary explained.

“That sounds like a lot of pressure for a young couple.” Dave pointed out, making both women laugh.

“Sure, fighting to the death in a Reaver ship is no big deal, but committing to a relationship? Now that’s the real hurdle in the mind of a veteran.” Molly laughed, making Dave chuckle and pick up the twin girls to set them on his lap as he wheeled himself toward the door.

“Shall we go then? Young Ladies, your chariot awaits.”

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