Weeks later (possibly after the Halimar job we apparently took after all):
Stefano was in his bunk in a haze of pain killers and alcohol. His jaw still hadn't healed fully, but at least the wires had been removed. Soft food was still the order of the day, and (of course) the liquid diet the empty wine, grappa and limoncello bottles attested to. A light knock on his door brought him slowly to his feet. The knock came again, slightly louder.
"Un minuto," he mumbled through clenched teeth. The unit was on stand down after the last job, so he hadn't expected any visitors today.
"Buongiorno," Valentina said, smiling like a shark as he opened the door.
His senses coming back to him more rapidly than he'd have liked, he straightened his posture slightly.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Valentina?" he asked, continuing in Italian.
"Mama wants to see you. Looks like you need a minute or two to get cleaned up, eh?"
Stefano's awareness suddenly dropped, dead center. The hit of adrenaline was almost a flight or fight response.
"Mama?" he asked in a small voice.
Valentina just nodded solemnly, and gestured toward his bathroom. "I can wait, but Mama wants to see you in about an hour, and it's a 30 minute drive, so I'd be headed to the shower if I were you."
Stefano nodded and forced himself to turn around, ignoring Angelo and Gianna still in the hallway. If Mama wanted him dead, he never would have made it out of bed. He swiveled a little too fast for his current state of inebriation, and had to steady himself on various furniture on the way to the shower. The cool water helped enough that he felt sufficiently confident to drag a razor across his face. He even managed not to cut himself.
Fortunately, he knew Valentina well enough to not be embarrassed by changing clothes in front of her. Her smirk didn't help, but it didn't slow him down. She shook her head when he reached for his pistol holster, though. That gave him a chill. Angelo and Gianna were still out in the hall when Valentina ushered him out of his quarters. He felt naked without his pistol, but Valentina either hadn't noticed, or didn't care there was still a vibroblade in his boot. She probably figured Mama's security goons would take care of that.
Nine minutes and 37 seconds later, the car rolled up to a quiet villa outside the city. Angelo stayed with the car, since he was driving, but Gianna accompanied Valentina as they exited the vehicle. Stefano surpressed another chill as she fell in on his opposite shoulder from Valentina.
In the foyer, a pair of guards relieved all three of them of their various weapons. Stefano gave up his vibroblade as easily as the other two handed over their pistols and knives.
A third guard showed the trio through to the kitchen. Mama was at the sink, staring out the window with her consigliore sitting at the kitchen table with a bored look on her face. She had an apron on over her pant suit, and her steel grey hair was pulled back in a severe bun.
"Ah, there you are, Stefano. Please sit, sit." Mama said (in Italian), gesturing toward the three empty chairs at the table.
The smell of something delicious emanated from the oven. Mama leaned on the counter, and said, "So, young man, how's business?"
Clearing his throat while he searched for the right response, Stefano said, "Well enough, Mama. Could be better."
Mama nodded in understanding and said, "I've been thinking, Stefano. Winston might have use for a mechwarrior alongside the Deici. Valentina has told me nothing but good things about you."
Recognizing an offer he couldn't refuse when he heard one, Stefano replied, "Yes, Mama."
"Excellent. See Il Lupo tomorrow to make the arrangements. You look like hell."
Smiling weakly, Stefano nodded and said apologetically, "Yes Mama... the jaw hasn't healed fully yet."
Mama just smilled and waved the group away as she turned back to the window over the sink.
Having been dismissed, the three carefully pushed in their chairs and exited the kitchen.