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Viltre was first to speak.

They were seated in the small scriptorium that Kiyelt and Ninaleth had built, way back during their homesteading days. They'd promptly repurposed it on account of all the babies, earthling and beast alike, and had only periodically put the room to its intended use. In recent years, with so many of their children grown and helping, the pair had been able to keep their books mostly in there again. Even if some wandered off every so often. The scribe felt right at home here. At home, he'd had everything in order, filing it all neatly away as it came. Here, it was chaos. As well-known as the ranch was, shoddy bookkeeping had limited its success, and the tall Kavensei had been earning his keep in this room.

But not today. Today, he'd rearranged it some so that more than two people could be in at once. Variel being heavy with child(ren), he'd made sure to bring more than the single chair in. This was to be a long talk, no doubt, and no good making everyone stand for it.
"So. About those family troubles we promised to tell. First, I apologize that it took so long. The timing was never right, especially when there was such a good surprise. ...But it can't wait longer. You're owed our circumstances. Shut the door, and we'll begin."

Einsol came in last, closing the door behind her as requested. To her surprise(?), t'was glowing Variel who began, not their Viltre. "Hold up a mo'. Lemme get settled too." The healer said little else as she pulled up one of the chairs and plopped down on sturdy driftwood-and-bone furniture. For all it's focus on raising and selling animals, a lot of things still died here. Had to use the whole creature up; it was a matter of utility and of respect. Especially here in Matori, where trees tended towards lending softer material. Hands folded in her lap, their dark host waited, listened, the very picture of solemnity. ...At least, until a bright snoot nosed it's way out of her sleeve.

She'd brought Ray with her, as this was only a discussion. Perfectly safe for dangernoodles. Got the feelin' I'll want somethin' to snuggle. 'Specially if this is how they open up the tale. Her green-and-yellow keldari slithered up the arm, 'round her shoulder, eventually pausing with his head at her collar, tongue tasting at the other two. "Alright. Now that we're ready, tell me a story please."

Variel grinned at Ray and wiggled her fingers in a friendly way. He was so beautiful and had a very sunny personality for a snek.

"Ooh look who joined us."

Merle reminded Variel of the cold logiticians (i probably spelled this horribly wrong), of the Oban Army. They did what was best for the war front no matter what. It was a scary feeling, but the only ones Merle seemed to care about for real were her own blood kin which was an awfully lonely way to live in Variel's opinion.

"She has a mean streak a mile wide but there are kin that don't deserve the loss. So we are deadlocked with this viper. However, if we bring in too many more of her family into our fold we will be close to tipping the balance of power which may make her panic and strike."

On the other side from the serpent, the redhead kept an eye on him. Ray seemed a sweet creature, sensible and undoubtedly spoiled for attention. Somehow he doubted Ein would let any familiar of hers become domestic enough to be defenseless. ...Which showed how little he knew of keldari to begin with. People had always been most familiar.

Their family kept itself afloat via a complex web of deals, subterfuge and legitimate business. Merle sat in the center, an arthropod with a beautiful, polished carapace. Ready to trap interlopers and do with them whatever seemed appropriate, be they resource or liability. Rather than go on about cost-effectiveness or the political intricacies of their situation, Viltre kept it simple. Their feral physician might not have the context to understand some of the important factors. "I love my brothers and my sisters. She's a good mother to the half that are hers. I don't want them hurt.

...And by the time she sent assassins I was already out of the country. Couldn't do much about the source from outside. Best bet has been to keep on moving, build my own connections on the way."

Ein listened, and waited until they were done saying what needed saying. They were neither lying nor talking around the truth, which helped some. If she meant to help, she needed what was going on. "So lemme see if I'm understandin' ya right. You're in a blood feud with yer mama. The woman who raised you, like you said. 'Cos she cares more about makin' some of your clutch unhappy than you bein' alive. An' on your end, some of your clutch bein' happy is more important than your life bein' at risk."

She waited, nodding to Variel when she spoke up. But where her mate saw a stalemate of mutually assured destruction, Ein had begun to see a much different picture. A simpler one. And as expected, an unhappy one to be in on. She felt a quiet swell of gratitude that she did not currently hold her favorite murder spagurder. The healer's sea-callused fingers had curled in on themselves in her lap. "So you an' this Merle person both believe that.

...How many of those marks are from her?"

Variel pursed her lips but Einsol was doing a good job of asking pertinant things and she wanted to see how much the blue skinned one could get out of their tan mate. Questions that perhaps she had already asked and some that she had not. How interesting, maybe Viltre was rubbing off somewhat on her warrior soul.

She stroked the nope rope, his lithe long form being the best part of this particular discussion. It was like when two quhar of equal size and strength got their horns locked but with people and networking. It made her want ale, which she was not allowed to have right now, pregnant women were not allowed anything it was so much fun not.

"A servant perhaps, perhaps under orders...." She gave them side eye. It wasn't her first rodeo, she could read between lines a bit.

"She taught me herself. Never hurt me, not as a boy. Only... some of the methods used pain to discourage failure." The words tumbled out as of by rote. Clinical, detached, an accountant going over a row of numbers. Something memorized rather than his own words. "No. No, she hasn't got the time. Raising and educating another like me would take at least a decade. Rushing that will only cripple your operative long-term, and children are expensive. More likely she'd need to break an adult. Isolation, sleep deprivation, certain drugs all together could give you a clean slate in months, but programming the person stably requires at minimum three years for optimal end results.

Short term replacements via more direct methods are good for two, maybe three jobs before something breaks. You can never be sure how they'll break; better to get them killed in action if the situation was that desperate-" Pale green eyes blinked, recalling where and with whom he was. Thin lips snapped shut, Viltre glancing between these women. "...Got off topic. Apologies."

Einsol was a hardy soul, and seldom shied away from the chore of violence when it became necessary. But even this clearly smoothed over explanation... It left her jaw clenched, the muscles in her cheek firmly set. His knowing these things meant he'd been made party to them one way or another. And he'd only made his move to get out from under Merle's thumb recently, within the past couple years. She brought a child in on the business of hurting people. She brought a child under her care in on this. ...But this was not the time to lose her temper. These were not the people she was mad at. That she loved these people was why she was mad, and that was a more important thing. She tried to keep the harsh clip from her voice, without too much success. The same went for the grim set of her lips and outrage in her eye. "Weren't really the assurance I was lookin' for. Y'don't even need pain if y'know it's happened, do ya?

Startin' t'think she used it like the chains on some of our bigger critters, like the mammu we get outta Zena. Leash 'em with thick chains when they're young, an' they get used to 'em bein' tough. Y'use thinner for the older ones, 'cos they remember the chains before an' still think they can't break 'em." Had she been in a demonstrative mood, their healer's exhales might have come in gouts of steam. Instead, she reached out and took a slim, ink stained hand in hers. The other laid itself on Variel's knee. Both squeezed gently. Hot iron left the younger woman's voice, replaced by beading tears there and at the edges of her gaze. Hiding emotion had never been a skill the Ninyelt had ever learned. "Ain't callin' ya foolish, dear heart. Sayin' I don't think y'quite see how much y'been hurt."