“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want to get the most out of the frame, you’re going to have to cut power somewhere.”

Jason could see Kernathu chewing a lock of purple hair as she mulled over the issue, glancing between the data-slate in her hand and the half-assembled mech that was now taking up space in the Whisker’s shuttle bay.

“But… a…”

“You can say it.” Jason sighed as he tightened another bolt. “It’s not a dirty word you know.”

He watched her flush minutely at his words, before her eyes narrowed as she glanced over her data-slate in his direction. He had a feeling she was trying to be intimidating, but it came across as being more akin to being glared at by a kitten.

Which was a strange thought, when once considered that Kernathu was his own height, if not a few centimeters taller.

But given that she was a Shil’vati, all he could do was think of her as ‘short’ any time he saw her. It likely didn’t help that the engineer had a bad habit of walking around with an almost imperceptible hunch to her posture.

Kernathu was, by just about any standard that mattered, the Shil’vati equivalent of a scrawny nerd.

Which was why he thought it so impressive that she’d managed to get so accustomed to his presence in the few short months they’d been working together. He couldn’t imagine it was a common occurrence, that someone in her more… technically minded field, showed up to work one day to find their workplace occupied by the equivalent of an alien supermodel.

He sure as shit knew which side of the gender equation his own engineering course on Earth had been skewed to – and it wasn’t the feminine side.

The notion of university engineering courses being for the most part a male dominated field was slightly outdated, but had some definite roots in reality. When he’d last checked, he was pretty sure that only sixteen percent of engineering graduates were women.

And did I just unironically compare myself to an alien supermodel? he thought belatedly, pausing in his work. Might need to reign in that ego a bit there, Jason old buddy.

He shook his head as he reached for his own data-slate.

“You want me to give Ares a railgun?” Kernathu said finally.

Jason sighed as he heard the definite note of disgust in the engineer’s voice. To hear it, it was almost as if he’d suggested they graft an anatomically correct penis-drill onto the machine’s groin as some kind of impromptu melee weapon.

Hell, that might have gone over better…

Jason turned to look at her. “You keep complaining about power draw because, despite you managing to source some nice new parts for him, he’s still running on the same outdated generator of a Fire-Turox Twelve Frame.”

Which was not something they could change. Exos were designed to be modular to a point, but the power generator itself was pretty non-negotiable. If you were looking to swap that out, you’d be better served just selling off the whole thing and buying a frame that better fit the loadout you needed.

Hell, the fact that Kernathu had managed to swap out the thing’s anti-grav generator was a minor miracle in his eyes. He’d seen with his own eyes the number of scuff marks from where she must grinded out the channels needed to fit in the slightly larger piece of tech.

Not that doing so had been quite enough. She’d also had to cut a hole in the old frame, through which parts of the new generator jutted, which she’d then had to cover in custom-fabricated armor plates. Which went someway to explain why Ares had a slightly more pronounced ‘hump’ than other exos he’d seen.

The point was, though he’d never say it aloud, Ares was a mess of new parts and old. Which meant that in the simulations they’d run, the machines power-draw could fluctuate dangerously. Most of the time it ran fine, but if the exo started to use everything it was capable of at once, it had a tendency to overheat or short out.

Or both.

Then catch fire.

Kernathu loved the ungainly thing, but you couldn’t have paid Jason enough to step inside the patchwork deathtrap.

Unfortunately for him, he also liked the engineer, which was why he was trying to convince her to explore options that might avoid her beloved exo becoming an incredibly expensive microwave the minute it was kicked into overdrive – roasting her in the process.

Out the corner of his eye, he watched the woman nod slowly in agreement with his summation.

“So we need something that doesn’t generate as much heat or use as much power.” He twisted his data-slate around. “Railgun.”

He struggled to rein in his irritation at the woman’s expression.

Most of the time Kernathu’s lack of social mores were cute. She wore her feelings on her sleeve. In moments like this though? It just made him want to throttle her as she glowered at his suggested addition to her baby.

“It’s a rock lobber.”

Yes. He wanted to throttle her.

“It’s a piece of advanced weaponry that fires titanium slugs at mach six.” He could have made it faster, but given that Ares was ostensibly for use in boarding actions, overpenetration was a serious issue. “It can fire six hundred rounds a minute.”

He smiled sardonically. “More to the point, it can fire for a minute without needing to go into emergency shutdown. Or catching fire.”

The way Kernathu’s frown turned distinctly sullen was not missed by him. The engineer was shy about a lot of things, but when it came to engineering, she could be as stubborn as any other Shil’vati he’d met.

“It has ammo. Ammo runs out.”

Jason shook his head. “Irrelevant. For half the weight of your proposed laser system, we can install my railgun and a shoulder mounted three thousand round pneumatic belt-fed hopper.”

It had to be pneumatic because the anti-grav field might mess with a gravity fed-alternative - plus the myriad other issues that could arise with a gravity fed system operating in a possibly zero-g environment.

“Three thousand rounds is still finite,” Kernathu shot back. “My system is theoretically infinite.”

“The operative word in there is theoretically.” Jason just laughed. “Functionally, we both know the whole system won’t work for more than thirty minutes before it overheats.”

Which, if one was being incredibly strict about things, wasn’t a terrible operational time given the machines intended use. It would be a rare day indeed that any boarding action – let alone one involving an exo – took more than thirty minutes.

Fortunately for him, a machine that only operated for thirty minutes before overheating ran directly in the face of Shil’vati design principles. Which were, fast, reliable and… expendable.

“Look,” he sighed, seeing Kernathu wince at his statement. “We don’t have to build it yet. Just upload the specs to the design software and run a few tests. I think you’ll find that it helps a lot with… just about everything really.”

Sure, it didn’t turn Ares into a top of the line piece of military hardware, but it went a hell of a long way to making the machine less of a lopsided rodeo clown – or bull, in the rider’s case.

Kernathu glanced at him, before looking back to her machine.

“If anyone makes fun of him because of this, I’m saying you seduce me into it with your strange masculine wiles,” she muttered before pressing the button on her data-slate to accept the file transfer. “And I’m just testing it! We aren’t building it yet.”

Jason just shook his head in amusement. “Whatever you say boss.”

“All boarding party personnel to the armory,” Tisi’s voice came over the ship’s intercom, startling them both. “We have a scheduled arrival due in thirty minutes.”

Jason glanced upwards as the intercom clicked off and silence returned to the shuttle bay.

“I guess you better get going,” Kernathu said, all traces of her earlier confidence and irritation gone as she revered back to her usual quiet demeanor.

“Yeah…” Jason said as he set down his wrench and started making his way to the door.

He was just about to press the door control switch when the engineer called out from behind him.

“Good luck!” she shouted. “Not that I, uh, think you’ll need it. For an inspection… y’know.”

“Thanks.” Jason smiled at her, ignoring the roiling feeling in his stomach that hard started the moment Tisi’s voice had come over the intercom. “And you’re right. I probably won’t.”

Jason checked the powerpack on his carbine for the third time in as many minutes. Still charged. Then the seals on his suit. Still fine. Then the-

“Alright, just stop already.” Assisse called from across the shuttle’s troop compartment. “You’re actually starting to make me nervous.”

Jason felt rather self conscious as he realized his two seniors had been watching him from their own seat positions. He couldn’t see either of their faces because of their masks, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the bemusement on both of them.

“Be patient with him, dear.” Scale’s cultured tones came over the pod’s communications circuit. “It’s his first boarding action.”

“Boarding action? Bleh.”

Jason was pretty sure Asisse hadn’t just spat, given that she had a helmet on, but he wouldn’t have been able to guess that from the motions of the woman’s head.

“This is a jumped up traffic inspection,” the woman continued. “Nothing to be nervous about. Do you know what I did for my first boarding action? Out in the ass end of the periphery. We didn’t have a shuttle either. We had a-”

“Boarding torpedo,” Scales finished, the roll of her eyes almost audible in her voice. “And you weren’t performing an inspection, you were attacking a pirate base hidden in an asteroid field. We’ve all heard it a hundred times.”

Jason almost laughed at Assisse’s hangdog posture after being interrupted by her friend.

“Feel any better?” Scales asked, turning to him.

He paused.

“I, uh, actually am.”

“Good,” the reptilian woman said. “Ignore Assisse. Everyone’s nervous the first time they take a loaded weapon into a situation where they might be expected to use it.”

“Though there’s no need to be,” Assisse pointed out, apparently having recovered from her slight chastisement. “Since the chances of you actually using that thing are close enough to zero to be indistinguishable. Besides, performing a cargo inspection is a hell of a lot safer than taking down a… what did Yaro call it, Scales?”

“A Guntra, dear.” Scale’s amusement was audible in her voice. “And you really should be able to remember that by now. Yaro certainly goes on about it enough.”

That caught Jason’s attention. “She does?”

Scales turned her gaze back to him. “Oh, yes. She’s become quite the chatterbox when it comes to you.”

Assisse snorted. “Can’t decide whether it’s better or worse than the creepy silent thing she used to do. Either way, girl’s got it bad.” Her gaze ran over him. “Though it’s not like I can’t see the appeal.”

“Yes, the idea of our latest crewman bringing down a savage beast has a very Xorn, Warrior Prince vibe to it, doesn’t it?” Scales added, ignoring the look of betrayal Jason sent her, as she gave him her own once over.

Not for the first time he cursed the semi-revealing nature of these suits. Of course, then he found his eyes wandering over Assisse’s buxom form and decided that perhaps they weren’t so bad.

…Not that he’d ever let anyone else know that.

The moment was interrupted as Tisi’s dry tones came over the communications channel. “Enough you two. I don’t want to have to schedule yet another ‘men in the workplace’ seminar because you two were incapable of keeping your clams dry for five minutes.”

Jason almost choked at the phrase.

“I still resent being forced to attend that, ma’am.” Rocket’s aggrieved tones butted in, only slightly distracted as she piloted their shuttle through the inky blackness of space.

As he surreptitiously cleared his throat, Jason didn’t know whether it was better or worse that the woman who held all their lives in her hands only sounded slightly distracted by the act of keeping them from flying into random space debris.

“Noted,” Tisi monotoned. “ETA to arrival?”

“Thirty seconds,” the shuttle pilot confirmed, switching to a slightly more professional tone.

That sent Jason’s tension skyrocketing again. Which also made him realize that the earlier banter had been doing wonders to distract him from it. Had that been intentional? Or just Shil’vati – and Scales – being Shil’vati?

He was still pondering it when a small thunk heralded the shuttle touching down on their target. Almost instantly, there was a subtle shift in gravity, as the shuttle’s own gravity field turned off, and they came under the effect of the ship’s they were now on.

“Showtime,” Assisse intoned as the three of them released their restraints and stood up, moving to their positions at the rear exit ramp. “Remember kid, gun stays down. This is an inspection first, a boarding action second. Let’s keep things civil until the other girls give us reason not to be.”

Jason nodded, lowering his weapon slightly as the ramp slowly started to descend.

“Though I do wish these sons of stiffs would give us a reason not to be civil,” Scales intoned, a hint of darkness in the woman’s otherwise jovial voice.

“You and me both, Scales.” Assisse agreed as the ramp hit the floor and she stepped out to meet their greeting party.

Jason had little idea of what he’d been expecting the interior of a Nighkru ship to look like.

Chains? Ragged work crews? Dark and foreboding lighting?

Well actually, that last one checks out, he noted as his suit’s HUD automatically brightened to compensate.

Apparently the Nighkru liked it dark. Which he supposed wasn’t all that strange given that they had glow-in-the-dark tattoos and their early ancestors apparently lived in caves.

Point was, he liked to think he could be forgiven for associating the race of ultra-capitalists space elves with the slave trading dark elves of popular media.

He was wrong though – ignoring the low lighting – the interior of the ship didn’t look radically different from any other ship he’d been on. Clean lines and bare metal abounded. The only real difference he could point out was the Nighkru crew-women hurrying about and the fact that the place was predominantly grey, rather the purple-sheened alloy that the Shil’vati tended to use for just about everything.

He was also surprised to see a familiar face amongst their welcoming party.

“Assisse, I wish I could say it was good to see you again.” Alanis Urrin smiled at the boarding party, flanked on both sides by armored Nighkru marines. “However, I find it hard to muster much enthusiasm for our reunion when our last meeting was so very recent.”

He was interested to note that women’s armor differed from Shil’vati. They used solid plates of what looked like some kind of ceramic over the Shil’vati’s skintight jumpsuit design. It gave the women an appearance not entirely distinct from that of ancient knights – sans the blue eyes that glowed with almost malicious intent as they silently regarded him and his comrades.

“I suppose it must be, given that you managed to remember the name of a lowly marine sergeant.” Assisse grunted as she stepped over to the women, pulling out an omni-pad. “Cargo manifest?”

Alanis’s features held just a hint of irritation, but the woman obligingly took the device, fingers skittering across the screen.

“When one is stopped at the same location every time they pass through a region of space, they tend to become familiar with the irritants that inhabit it.” The woman passed the data-slate back.

“I imagine the solution to that conundrum would be to stop traveling through that region of space then,” Assisse drawled, even as the two Nighkru marines glared at her.

“I’ll be sure to relay that opinion to the governess. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to know that she lost access to the Coalition’s markets because of the continued harassment of a single picket craft.”

“Continued harassment?” Assise snorted. “These checks are totally random. You ain’t special.”

“Yet I have been stopped every time I have come through this checkpoint.” Alanis noted idly.

“I guess you’re just lucky,” Scales said, her tone equally as hard as her friend’s.

The Nighkru just glanced at the scaled woman, smiling sardonically as the Nighkru marines behind her glared ominously. Or at least, Jason assumed they were glaring. With the glowing eyes, it was hard to interpret anything they did as anything other than a glare.

“Alright Scales,” Asisse said, holstering her gun and the data-slate in one smooth motion, a feat only allowed by their armor’s mag-locks. “Let’s go make sure the ambassador here is on the up and up.” She glanced back at him. “Kid, you stay with the ship.”

Jason almost wanted to complain. After he’d spent so long getting worked up on the ride over, he was essentially being saddled with busywork. Protocol specifically specified that they move as a pod. The shuttle was sealed up tight and had mounted laser pods for its own protection – which significantly outclassed any extra security his own presence could provide.

Yet, as much as he wanted to complain, some small part of him was also relieved.

He hated that.

It felt like cowardice.

“Yes, sergeant,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.

So caught up in his own thoughts, he almost missed the way all the Nighkru present stopped in their tracks. It was as if a gunshot had gone off, given the way every eye present honed in on him.

His grip tightened on his gun almost unconsciously.

“What?” he asked.

The ambassador was the first to recover, barking something in her native tongue at the surrounding crew, who immediately leapt to return to whatever they were doing previously. Though more than a few continued to glance his way.

“Apologies Jason, I didn’t realize it was you under that suit. My crew were likewise surprised to realize a man was present.”

Glancing at Assisse for permission to speak, the woman gave him a tired nod.

“That strange?” he asked.

Alanis tittered. “Men do not serve in a military fashion amongst the Coalition. It is considered-”

“Anthropology lesson later. Right now I have a ship to check,” Asisse interrupted.

Which given that she was the one who gave him permission to speak, suggested that she had done so just so she could cut off the ambassador.

Something the woman in question didn’t seem to have missed, give the way Alanis glanced irritably at the sergeant. Still, she reigned it in and obligingly waved a hand at one of the marines that accompanied her.

“Please aid the sergeant in her inspection of the ship.”

The marine nodded, peeling off to escort Assisse and Scales deeper into the ship. He noticed that she glanced back once at him before going though.

Were guys in uniform really that strange for the Coalition? Sure, they might not serve there, but surely they knew that other races allowed it. Alanis definitely hadn’t seemed that surprised when he’d mentioned he was a marine at the party.

Then again, she was an ambassador, and thus would be more familiar with how other species did things. Plus, he’d been in a dress uniform. She might have been surprised to see him at first, but had recovered by the time she walked up to him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t realize I was a guy, given the, uh, size difference.”

It was only as he spoke that he realized he might have been making a mistake. As ‘security’ for the shuttle, he wasn’t totally sure what his role entailed, but he was pretty sure that chatting to the ambassador wasn’t part of it.

Alanis just smiled at him. “I admit it was a little slow on my part. I should have recalled that you said you served aboard the Whisker. As it stood, I simply believed you were a member of the Imperium’s other client races.”

Despite himself, Jason’s interest was piqued.

“I didn’t realize they had other races that are, well, our size.”

She tittered. “You’re not a particularly traveled man are you?”

Jason flushed. “Well, prior to six years ago, humanity thought it was alone in the universe.”

That seemed to strike a chord with the Nighkru, who inclined her head apologetically. “Yes, I suppose that would be a good excuse to know little, as well as to avoid travel.”

She touched a finger delicately to her cheek. “I’d be happy to talk more about the greater universe though, if you’d join me in my office?”

He shook his head, even as he found his eyes drawn imperceptibly to the way the woman’s fingers ran over her plump blue lips. He might have been on the ‘job’, but he was only human.

Plus, as an ambassador, Alanis probably had a lot of experience wrapping saps like him around her finger with but a few innocuous gestures.

“Sorry ma’am,” he said politely. “My orders were to stay by the shuttle.”

Alanis smile only grew wider. “Oh, I don’t think that will be an issue. Just contact your captain. Tell her I would like to invoke Rashta.”

Jason frowned at the strange word, but nonetheless reached up to access his comms. Part of him didn’t want to – if only to avoid whatever game Alanis was clearly playing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly say as much, given the disparity in power between them.

She was an ambassador and he was just a lowly marine. Even if she was the ambassador of a foreign power, he couldn’t exactly tell her to stuff it.

Plus, he had zero idea what this Rashta was.

For all he knew, refusing was grounds to have him religiously castrated.

No, better do what all soldiers had done since the beginning of time when faced with a situation where they had no clue what to do.

He ran it up the line.