Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System

"If we wanted to send some smaller vessels to Rae 5 for a full refit, how long would they have to wait until the work could begin?" Commander Arnold asked once the crowd settled down again.

"At last update, there were sixteen empty dry dock spaces in that Star System that should be fully staffed. If you're only sending a few vessels, it shouldn't be a problem for them all to get started right away. But, as you know, Reavers are first come, first served sorts, and if another Mercenary company or new ally beat you to the spot, you would have to wait." Max explained.

Arnold nodded in understanding. That was how the Reavers always were. Getting priority and favors from them was nearly impossible.

"Then, how long would it take you to make a Replicator for each of the vessels that we have here in the Black Wolves territory? We might have to wait for most of our ships to get new engines, but we can at least start eating well instead of recombined protein slurry." He asked.

"There's only about fifty of you here. If you want one per ship, we can make industrial units for your kitchens tonight and deliver them within 24 hours. If you want the smaller private units in larger quantities, it will take a while, but we do have a few in stock since our last stop also wanted the larger ones for their main meals and not a private replicator for their officers." Max offered.

"We will take it. And the Exterminators want six Materials Printers." The Commander demanded.

"Then you need to finish the paperwork. None of the good stuff goes out until you are officially a member of the Trade Group." Max replied, motioning for a staffer with the stack of agreements to come to the table.

One after another, the Captains signed off, and their agreements were double-checked for validity, ensuring that no fake or prohibited groups were tagging along unnoticed. It didn't seem to be a problem, the Mercenaries were quite selective about who they invited, despite the large number of groups that reported here at the same time, and only a few spelling errors slowed the process.

That earned them some good-natured ribbing about their literacy from their fellow Captains, but the nervousness during the signing of such an important agreement was totally understandable to them all.

"There we go, all signed up." Commander Arnold shouted happily once his copy of the agreement was collected and sent off to Rae 5 for verification and registration.

"Excellent. I haven't seen any reported issues with any of your applications, so we can start deliveries. Are there any other supplies that you need at the moment? Terminus carries a variety of raw materials for custom orders." Max suggested.

"If you can send a team to the Station to help install the Replicators and Materials Printers that the Black Wolves have purchased, we would be willing to pay the full Death Wind going rate." The Space Station Commander requested.

"That shouldn't be an issue. We will need some time to make all of the other orders, so why don't you all stay here aboard Terminus tonight? We have retrofitted the ship with the height of luxurious accommodations, and all we ask is that you don't harass the aliens." Nico replied on behalf of the maintenance teams.

They would send human teams to the station for the safety of the Innu, who weren't familiar with any other human cultural norms and might inadvertently cause an issue due to the fact that they were only really familiar with Terminus, and mostly Nico's personal guidelines on behavior. Leaving them alone with Nico for that long was bound to cause an issue, but since they were so focused on their work, they hadn't picked up on her bad habits or genocidal tendencies yet. At least, not as far as Max could tell.

"I think we will take you up on that offer. I heard good things about your indoor beach and the tiki bar area." Captain Arnold agreed.

There had been a party there last night, mostly infantry from the ill-fated Regiment who had been aboard since before Kepler fell. Their status was sort of in limbo, despite the fact that they were working aboard Terminus in dozens of different positions. They were more than simple crewmen since they were trained soldiers, but Max hadn't had time to make an official status for them.

Terminus didn't officially have security staff since it was all military personnel, to begin with, but that would be the most logical position for the infantry, who didn't fall easily into simple service jobs or mechanical work.

"Call the staff and let them know we have plenty of guests for the Tiki lounge area. We can house them all in that same area so they don't have far to stumble to get to their rooms for the night." Nico informed someone, who replied with a double beep of the radio as confirmation.

"You boys are in for a treat. We have the finest of rooms for you, and they come with energy credits to update your wardrobe for a beach outing, so I will show you to them now, and you can get ready for an all-night party." Nico informed them.

"Energy Credits?" Commander Arnold asked.

"There are Replicators that only make a limited menu along with Terminus branded clothing and toiletries installed in every suite. You can either buy swimwear at the kiosk or create it inside your room. The Kiosk has a much better selection, as the room makes swimwear in one single style, as well as a bathrobe and slippers." Nico explained.

"You see, they're just flexing on us now. Oh, we have Materials Printers in every single room. Like that's nothing at all." One of the Captains laughed.

"It's a Replicator, actually. Since the clothing is all made of natural fibers, it can be created out of the basic Replicator supply. No synthetic materials, but Cotton and linen are no problem for the Replicators." She explained to the confused Captains.

"So, you're saying that if I had enough materials, I could just make myself fresh underwear every single morning and trash the old ones instead of washing them?" Captain Arnold asked, intrigued.

"It would be wasteful, but it would be simple to do. You could even set a timer so that it made fresh underwear and coffee for you every morning."

"Pure Luxury." The big Commander agreed.

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