Marines were people too.

A little hardier and a little bit more adaptable than the average sapient perhaps, but still as mortal as anyone else. And as such, just as prone to the same minor inconveniences as the next person.

Jason was no exception – and his inconvenience of the day had chosen to manifest itself in the form of a throbbing finger. A finger that was throbbing specifically because it had spent the last few hours sliding across a data-pad screen.

Touchscreens were wonderfully intuitive things, but there was no denying that they suffered some – tiny – drawbacks when compared to more… aged technology.

Which was why, as he reclined back in the Whisker’s engineering bay, he found himself debating as to whether or not he should introduce the idea of a ‘mouse’ to the Imperium.

He could do it. It wouldn’t even be hard.

The last few months with Kernathu had seen him introduced to the CAD software attached to the military fabricators back on Gurathu. Given how far away the planet was from the rest of the Imperium the machines saw more use than they might otherwise - as people chose to fabricate parts and materials they might see more cheaply imported otherwise – but it would be simple enough to book in some printing time when they were back on-world.

Hell, now that he was thinking about it, the mini 3D printer onboard the Whisker would probably be sufficient for the task. And he doubted Tisi would have any issue with him dropping into the ship’s miniscule store of raw materials for his project.

Especially given that she was still trying to buy her way back into his good books over what was being referred to as the ‘Mail Incident’ around the ship.

The only issue he could really see was that she would still be obligated to at least ask why he needed those resources – for the paperwork if nothing else. At which point he’d have to explain what a mouse was and why he wanted it.

Which was essentially, because his fingers got sore from sliding across screens for long periods of time.

…And he didn’t know if his masculine pride could suffer the look of ‘really?’ she would undoubtedly give him.

Or if, god forbid, Rocket got wind of it.

“Fuck it,” he murmured. “I’ll just say I’m more used to mice.”

“What’s a ‘mice’?”

Jason damn near jumped out of his skin.

“Holy shit!” he shouted as he whirled around to find Yaro standing over him.

Which was less of an immediate relief than one might think, given that Yaro was for all intents and purposes an alien werewolf – with all the intimidation factor implied by that statement.

Never mind that he’d porked said terrifying alien werewolf not more than a few hours ago, scary was scary.

Desperately calming his racing heart, he glared up at the Rakiri. Yaro for her part seemed completely unfazed by his surprised exclamation, her features completely blank. Just as always.

…Or at least, that was what he would have said a few months ago.

Nowadays he knew to look for the subtle cues.

The slight tensing in the thighs. The twitching in the right ear. The subtle swish of her tail.

Yaro was laughing at him.

Sure, it wasn’t an outright belly laugh – that would have involved her making the slight chuffing sound she did – but it was still a display of humor.

Finally getting his breathing under control, he frowned. “I’m putting a bell on you.”

“I would not decline such a gift.” The alien said, tilting up her nose slightly. “You are welcome to do so.”

Jason sighed, giving up on that idea. If the Rakiri was willing to accede so easily, he doubted a bell would help. She’d still sneak up on him, only to then gloat about the fact that she could do so with a bell on her. Or at least, she’d do the Yaro equivalent of gloating. Which, to be honest, wasn’t all that dissimilar from Yaro laughing.

It just had a bit more tail swishing to it.

“So what had you so focused that it was even easier than normal to sneak up on you?” she asked, craning to look at his down data-pad. “Missing colonists?”

Jason resisted the urge to sigh as he scooped up the device.

“Just a bit of research.”

Yaro cocked her head. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I’ve just heard a few comments on the subject recently and I got interested.”

“So you decided to look into it of your own volition?” Yaro smiled in that peculiar manner of hers as she slumped onto the canteen seat he had been occupying just moments ago. “How heroic.”

Jason shook his head in dismissal.

Hardly, I’ve just realized that I’m probably the most valuable target on the planet from a valuable species standpoint, he thought, and if there are abductions going on, I’m in danger.

“Just a passing interest of mine,” he obfuscated, feeling a little flustered by the look his occasional lover was giving him. “There’s not much else for me to do right now.”

“Is the mech finished?” Yaro asked.

He shook his head. “No, just stalled until Kernathu can source some parts.”

Parts that very pointedly couldn’t be made in the base’s fabricator. Not due to a lack of capability on the machine’s part, but copyright laws. Which meant that if Kernathu was going to get the parts they needed, she’d have to buy them directly from the sellers.

Which took time.

“So, I’m passing the time by following up on something that’s been bothering me since Kelu mentioned it.”

Perhaps, if he hadn’t known Yaro for as long as he had, he might have missed it. As it was, he definitely did notice the slight hunching of her posture at the mention of the other Rakiri’s name.

“You disagree?” he asked. “Or is that little twitch because of an issue with Kelu?”

The alien woman froze even further at the realization that her antipathy had been noticed.

“I have no strong feelings towards Kelu one way or another.” She said finally, slumping slightly. “I will however state that our leader has suffered greatly at the hands of raiders – and thus may see dangers where none may actually exist.”

Jason couldn’t hide his surprise.

“People are disappearing though,” he said, pointing to his device.

Yaro nodded as she looked at the data-pad. “Certainly, but it is a small number relative to the population of Gurathu. I will admit that it is perhaps a number slightly higher than average for a modern society, but Gurathu is a dangerous world. As you might recall, we ourselves almost became ‘missing persons’. The Guntra is not a wasteful beast. It would have left precious little of our bodies behind had it managed to overcome us.”

Jason couldn’t help but shudder a little at the thought as he remembered the massive beast getting the drop on both of them. Almost unbidden, he glanced towards his quarters on the Whisker, where his tooth necklace was hanging inside his locker.

Ignorant of his momentary reminder of their mutual brush with death, Yaro continued.

“Many Rakiri may have also chosen to simply… disconnect themselves from known information networks.”

What? So they just drop off the grid? he thought.

“You get many people doing that?” he asked, seeking confirmation.

Yaro frowned a little. “One does not usually choose a life on the utmost outskirts of space because they are greatly enamored with the Imperium. Many of those who settle on worlds like Gurathu do so because of the distance and the relative freedom it provides.”

He couldn’t help but notice the faint hint of distaste that ran across the wolf woman’s features as she said that last part.

“You disagree?” he asked.

“I have no say on how others choose to live their lives, so long as they do so within the bounds of the law.” She hesitated slightly. “I will, however, say that the fact that a portion of my people still refuse to engage with the Imperium, despite the time that has passed since our independence and now, is frustrating. The Imperium is going nowhere. Obstinance aids no one.”

Jason was a little surprised. He’d never really taken Yaro for particularly pro-Imperium before.

Then again, she is part of the Imperial military, he thought.

And he sincerely doubted anything as convoluted as had happened to him had occurred to her. No, Yaro had in all likelihood joined entirely of her own volition.

“Sounds a bit more personal than just general distaste,” he pointed out.

Yaro’s frown deepened, before a hint of humor came back into her features. “It is a… not uncommon topic of discussion when my family meets for Hertur Feasts.”

He had no idea what Hertur was, but he was going to assume it was like Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. Either way, it was kind of comforting to know that awkward politically charged arguments over the dinner table were apparently a universal truth. It almost made him glad his dad had taken off for parts unknown before he’d reached an age where he might have started voicing his own opinions.

“So you don’t think these abductions are happening?” he asked finally, returning to the topic at hand.

Yaro chuffed, the Rakiri equivalent of a shrug. “I struggle to see how. That is our purpose out in the void is it not? To watch for raiders and their ilk, to ensure the events that you describe do not come to pass.”

She glanced at her wrist computer. “I must report to my duty station.”

Jason nodded, waving at her as she left. He would also admit to a little envy. Kernathu had little need for his services at the minute, so he was on ‘stand-by’. Which was why he’d been out here in the first place.

Of course, now Yaro had come and ruined his momentary diversion by quite reasonably pointing out that there was no way a ship full of slavers could realistically still be raiding Gurathu. Picket ships like the Whisker were covering all approaches to the planet. A ship couldn’t just sneak past…

…Unless they were bribing one of the other ships, he thought, his mind immediately leaping to the most obvious solution to that problem.

“So, have we learnt our lesson?”

Jason aimed a gimlet eye at the ship’s doctor as she applied bruise cream to his shoulder. Which the woman just smiled at, completely unphased by his unimpressed expression.

“Yes,” he finally allowed, deflating slightly. “I’ve learned to never let Assisse know that I’m not busy.”

“Good.” Cerilla laughed.

Jason was less sanguine about the situation, wincing as the woman’s fingers moved over another bruise.

One of many.

He hadn’t even meant anything by it. It had just been an off-hand comment when Assisse had stepped into the cafeteria to grab something from the food fabricators – which did not actually ‘fabricate’ food, so much as arrange, cook and prepare a number of pre-frozen meals, much to his disappointment.

Apparently, the Whisker’s head Marine had taken his words as a challenge, because there were few things the military detested more than idleness.

Which was why he had spent the last three hours engaged in close-quarter-combat drills.

The Shil’vati woman hadn’t even had the good grace to be the only participant. No, to compensate for the massive difference in stamina levels between them, she’d spent those three hours having his opponents rotate between Scales, Yaro, Rocket (once), and herself.

As the Whisker’s doctor spun in her seat to look at her data-pad, Jason found himself peering around at the cool white panels of the room he was in. This was actually the first time he’d been inside the Whisker’s medical bay, which was a bit of a surprise to be honest. One would assume that he’d have been bustled in here the moment he arrived onboard for a preliminary medical the moment he came aboard.

That hadn’t happened though – and he’d never given it much thought. It wasn’t his problem after all. He’d had a medical-check before departing from the Crucible though. Maybe that was all that was needed?

“White’s a pretty universal ‘medical’ color isn’t it?” he stated, surprising himself as he realized he’d said the words aloud.

If the Whisker’s medical officer was in any way surprised by the seemingly random statement, it didn’t show, as she continued tapping away at the terminal attached to her desk.

“I suppose it is,” she said without turning around. “Probably because medical environments need to be clean, and it’s very easy to see dirt on a white surface.”

Jason nodded absently. That made sense.

Silence reigned as Cerilla continued to tap away at her device. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but he’d be stretched to call it friendly, either. If he had to compare it to anything, he’d say it was like sitting in a doctor’s office.

A somewhat obvious comparison, given he was in a medical bay, but he supposed that was what felt strange to him. It was exactly like being in a doctor’s office. Cerilla was treating him just like anyone else, her demeanor cool and professional. Sure, she’d cracked a few little jokes to break the ice, but they’d just been icebreakers with no ulterior motive beyond good bedside manner.

My god, he thought as he came to a realization, does this interaction feel odd to me because Cerilla’s not attracted to me?

“She’s impressed by you, you know?”

Jason nearly jumped at the unexpected statement from the quiet doctor. At some point during his musings, she’d turned back around to look at him.

“Assisse,” Cerilla clarified, seeing his mystified look.

“I don’t see why she would be,” Jason scoffed. “Given that I’m in here getting ointment applied after being beaten black and blue.”

“Black and blue?” Cerilla mused. “What a curious phrase.”

She turned her attention back to him. “And I would note that the fact that you’re in here after being beaten black and blue by half the crew is the reason why I think she’s impressed.”

She cocked her head slightly, eyes roaming over him contemplatively. Given that he was currently shirtless, he’d normally assume the Shil’vati was shamelessly ogling some free eye-candy. As it was, her eyes were almost entirely analytical.

“If she didn’t think much of you, she wouldn’t be pushing you so hard,” the woman reasoned.

“I’m pretty sure that’s mostly because I showed up here half-trained,” he deflected. “Assisse is doing what she can with what she’s got in the vain hope I won’t accidentally blow my own foot off during the next boarding operation.”

Cerilla smiled. “You’re certainly welcome to believe that. I believe you might change your mind if you heard how our dear Marine Chief raves about you to our Captain. She was most impressed with your performance in the last anti-gravity exercise.”

The woman’s smile turned decidedly plastic at that last statement, no doubt remembering the nausea brought about by the ship’s constantly changing gravity.

Jason just chuckled. He wasn’t a soldier. Even after everything he’d been through, he still struggled to think of himself as one. He was just a guy in a strange set of circumstances.

“Sure she isn’t just raving about me because I’m doing well ‘for a guy’?” he joked.

Of course, his chuckles abated almost instantly as the ship’s doctor fixed him with a look. It wasn’t angry. Nor was it cold.

It was disappointed.

The kind of disappointment you might receive from a particularly well liked aunt. Which was an odd comparison for Jason to make given that he’d never had an aunt. Hell, he’d barely had a mother.

“Assisse might joke around in just about every other area of her life,” Cerilla explained slowly. “But I can assure you, when it comes to matters relating to her work, she’s completely serious. If she says you have talent, you have talent.”

Jason nodded – if only to get her to stop looking at him like that.

Which, mercifully, she did.

“Now if it was Tisi raving about you,” Cerilla continued, features morphing into a teasing smile, “I might be less inclined to believe said words were entirely factual. What with the girl being positively smitten with you.”

Jason had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to have heard or know that. Which was probably why Cerilla had said it.

“Right... can…can I go?” he asked awkwardly, looking longingly toward the exit.

“Of course.” Cerilla’s smile only widened. “I’ve finished applying the ointment, so you could have left five minutes ago.”

Jason practically bolted from the room.