<div class="floatright">(https://image.spreadshirtmedia.com/image-server/v1/compositions/105366373/views/1,width=280,height=280,appearanceId=1,version=1439463983.png.webp)</div><strong>April 3rd, 3025, 12:35 local time</strong><br/><strong>Aragon System, Aragon, Salvador province, Salvador City, Parade Grounds<br/><strong>Translated from Spanish</strong></strong><hr/><br/>Principe Montes's severe expression cracked a bit with a dark smile as John responded to Leona's introduction in relatively fluent Spanish.  "<abbr title="You must watch your tongue around these ones, eh, Major?">Debes mirar tu lengua alrededor de estos, eh Major?</abbr>" he said sotto voce, jostling the man who had leaned in a moment ago with an elbow.<br/><br/>"Si, Principe," the Major responded, eyebrows furrowed -- but the Principe is already moving forward, flanked by a pair of large men, and reached forward to clasp John's forearms with his own.  "<abbr title="It is about time the bastards found mercenaries who can speak a civilized language!">¡Ya es hora de que los bastardos nos encuentren mercenarios que puedan hablar un idioma civilizado!</abbr>" Principe Montes said, greatly pleased.  "<abbr title="Is it just you who speaks the mother tongue, or are all of your people fluent?  But I get ahead of myself.  Come, let us walk.  My chefs have prepared a meal to reveal some of the best that my lands have to offer.">¿Eres tú quien habla la lengua materna, o toda tu gente habla con fluidez? Pero me adelanto a mí mismo. Ven, caminemos. Mis chefs han preparado una comida para revelar lo mejor que mis tierras tienen para ofrecer.</abbr>"<br/><br/>Leona hastily stepped aside as Principe Montes sweeps back forward, waving the mercenaries behind him, then stepped in to the side of the other Mechwarriors, continuing to translate into English.<br/><br/><strong></strong><div align="center">* * *</div>[/b]<br/><br/><strong>"It gladdens my heart to count such skilled warriors as yourselves amongst our ranks.  Would that our needs were not so pressing,"</strong>Thiago said, a note of sorrow in his voice as a servant topped off his wine glass.<strong>"If it is not one thing, it is another.  Commandante Peruva has taken my Second Battalion against Principe Ricardo to our north, to avenge the loss of her uncle; Commandante Villatoro of my First Battalion has been dreadfully ill ever since his duel last month, and his children are playing the game of assassins; and a pair of hot-headed Majors are campaigning against our rivals to the east.  If it were not for my reliable friend Mateo, we might not have been able to arrange for your grand welcome in the first place!"</strong><br/><br/>Commandante Mateo Passio laughed, a black note.  He is roughly the Principe's age, with almost as many decorations for valor as Montes himself.<strong>"The Principe exaggerates our peril for your entertainment, friends,"</strong>he said with a shrug.<strong>"He grieves for lost comrades, and comrades we may lose very soon, but he knows just as well what an opportunity you make for."</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Ha!"</strong>Thiago reached over and slapped the Commandante on the shoulder.<strong>"Leona tells me you have recently suffered a loss of your own,"</strong>he continued, looking first to 'John' then the rest of the Valkyries.<strong>"Your Victor must have been quite a man to command your deference this far out.  Tell me about some of your exploits, mercenaries -- a tale I'm sure extends past our own fair borders."</strong><br/><br/>The two bodyguards behind the Principe remain silent as ever, but the three other officers perk up at the prospect of a good war story.  Leona, on Thiago's left, takes a quiet breath, ready to relay.