"Thank you so much."

"Of course. - oh, the grocery store is just down the street, just walk along it until you see a sign that says 'grocery', and you can just tell them you can't pay right now, they won't care."

"They won't?"

"Not at all. I mean, they might know more than me about what kind of programs there are these days to help with that and they might sign you up for one of those, but they'd never want someone to have an empty pantry just because they didn't have money, they'll be so glad you went and got food."

"All right. And you've done - something about the language?"

"You'll be able to read and speak it now. Any language anywhere, actually."

"Is this going to affect how the baby learns language?"

"I'd have to check the manual -" He frowns. "Uh, apparently it's not recommended to do to a child under, ah, Amentan two or so, but he or she will hear you in your native language by default and should learn it fine - you'd want to switch it off if you were teaching your child to read in Quenya or something like that."

Nod.

"- oh, you can write me if you need anything, I have a notepad -" It has his name at the top, c/o Ambaróna open channel - "It gets forwarded to me about thirty-five minutes past the hour, usually." He gives them the notepad.

"Thank you."

"Take care."

Oranges go in the house.

Neighbors bring meals.

They are thanked profusely!

(And when the meals slow down they get to work on making a baby.)

Greys' defense attorneys stop by again to ask them if they've had a bit more time to process their options.

One of them has picked a place she wants to move to. Others are narrowing it down.

That one can have a deal where she agrees that it's not good to kidnap people, promises that she is removing herself from the environment in which the whole mess occurred, and gets the whole thing dropped.

Sweet.

The blue case goes to court. Her attorney has lined up a selection of Calador blues agreeing that this is totally part of the legitimate and reasonable operations of their legal system. The prosecution observes that, had the Elves been notified that they had been arrested, they would have had expectations about how they could be treated and how long they could legally be held, and that there were a lot of opportunities to suggest that was what was going on, none of which were taken. The prosecution observes that this would, if the Elves hadn't had writing materials around, be a negligent murder case, and that taking people into custody involves assuming a degree of responsibility for their wellbeing and maintenance which no one in Calado displayed. 

The Elves testify very compellingly that they were concerned these terrifying strangers who were holding them prisoner without an explanation might, once it became clear they wouldn't cooperate, escalate from vague threats, and that any hint they'd been arrested as part of the operations of a functional legal system under which they had rights would have been very reassuring. They are asked if they think the Senator intended them to feel assured they had rights and would be released even if they declined to answer questions. They say very charitably that they do not really think so.

The prosecution further and very irritably observes that if the court accepts the legal theory proposed by the defense and finds this to have been a lawful arrest in the absence of any tangible evidence that anyone involved thought of it as an arrest or communicated as much or intended to release the defendants once the safety concern was mitigated, then the court will be finding that Calado's senators can never under any circumstances be guilty of kidnapping people.

Does Datna want to testify.

Will it help?

"Can you say under the truth effect that at the time you were thinking of it as an arrest for public safety reasons? Or that you intended to arrange their safe release even if they didn't answer questions? Or that any implication they might come to harm if they didn't cooperate was definitely unintended -"

"The last thing, probably. I'm not sure about the first."

" - then probably no, but if you're convicted you can testify to the last thing at sentencing and they won't be allowed to ask about the first because it wouldn't be sentencing-relevant."

She sighs and follows her lawyer's advice. This justice system is weird.