“It’s not going to happen.”

Assisse sighed as her captain repeated exactly what she’d said to Hela five minutes earlier. She glanced around the bridge to see the reactions of the rest of the crew – which was just a little cramped with everyone having shown up for an impromptu ‘meeting.’

Well, except for the man of the hour. Apparently, he’d had to make a runner for the lavs. A sentiment she could well appreciate. Nothing like a little imminent danger to get the downstairs plumbing running. Few stories mentioned how often during a firefight all a gal was thinking about was how much she needed to drop a brick.

Grinning a little at the thought, she took stock of the room, and, naturally, she could see a few unhappy faces. Glider and Cerilla in particular. Some relieved ones, too. Kernathu and Yaro. And some that were somewhere in between. Scales and Rocket.

She’d have to put herself in the last category.

Of course, no one was about to speak out against the captain.

…Except for Assisse. That was kind of the unofficial job of the most experienced enlisted aboard. To act as the voice of those who might otherwise not speak up.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked.

She ignored the betrayed look sent her way by a few of the crew, just as she ignored the subtle expression of relief that came across Cerilla and Glider’s faces.

“I am,” Tisi said, eyes glittering dangerously. “And I shudder to think that any of my crew might disagree. Such a thought might be considered mutinous.”

Assisse raised her hands defensively. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions here. All I’m saying is that you might not be thinking this all the way through.”

“What’s there to think about?” Yaro butted in. “The merchant woman is asking to take on our crew as slaves.”

“She hasn’t said that,” Assisse pointed out. “Coalition, which is where she's heading, also don’t have slaves. They’ve got indentured servants.”

She actually felt dirty just having said the word. Unfortunately, she’d have to continue. It was her job to act as the counterweight to the captain and explore alternate paths.

No matter how distasteful, she thought.

“Slaves by any other moniker,” Yaro spat.

Assisse shrugged as she looked at the furred woman. “Alright, let’s run a hypothetical here. We give Jason to Hela.” Again, she resisted the urge to wince as she said it. “She takes him. She goes to the Coalition. She either keeps him or moves his contract onto some wealthy Coalition woman. No matter what, the guy’s living a life of luxury. It’s not like he’d be working in mines or a call center or something.”

Hell, the guy probably wouldn’t even be a debt-slave for long. His species and gender alone meant he had value. Value that could be leveraged. He was smart enough to figure it out.

“Or,” she continued, “we hold onto him, and there’s a reasonable chance he – or any one of us – gets spaced in the next,” she glanced at her HUD, “seven minutes.”

That had been the timetable Hela had set up upon being rejected. It would take her ship an hour and then some to refuel. So, she would fire upon the Whisker every fifteen minutes until Jason was aboard her ship.

Naturally, Tisi had threatened blowing up the refinery if a laser so much as grazed her ship. It hadn’t worked. The merchant had just laughed. The bitch knew that blowing the refinery was the absolute last option available to Tisi. To that end, she could still ‘encourage’ them, so long as those encouragements didn’t destroy the ship.

A risky game perhaps, but Assisse supposed that one didn’t end up on the run from Imperial justice by being risk averse.

Back in the moment, the look Tisi was giving her was indecipherable. Assisse could honestly say she’d never seen that expression on the woman’s features before. Say what you would about the noble woman, she wore her expressions on her sleeve. Honestly speaking, the Marine had assumed that was part of the reason the other woman had chosen the military over politics.

Apparently, she’d just been hiding that talent, because Assisse couldn’t find even a hint of what the other woman was thinking on her face.

“You’re demoted to private,” she said calmly. “Scales, you’re breveted to sergeant.”

Assisse winced, even as Scales snapped off a reluctant salute.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been demoted for speaking out of turn, Assisse thought.

“You can demote me,” she said. “It doesn’t change anything about our circumstances. Hela wants Jason, and at this rate, she’s willing to kill a few of us to get him.”

“I never thought you a coward, private,” Tisi said, glaring at her.

Assisse shrugged, unbothered by the dig at her new rank. “I don’t mind dying for a cause, ma’am. In this case, though, we’d be dying for nothing. One life against three or four. That’s basic math.”

Shew frowned as she realized she actually meant that. Given that she’d started this argument by playing the deep minder’s advocate, it was a little disconcerting to realize she was now genuinely arguing for handing their crew member over.

Feelings on the matter aside, she’d been right. It was basic math.

Empress above, she wasn’t entirely sure if they’d even be arguing so heatedly about this if the one Hela wanted was of the female persuasion.

Glancing around the room, her frown deepened as she realized Jason still hadn’t shown. While she had no idea where the man himself would stand on the matter, it would certainly clear things up if he were actually present.

“Where is Jason?” she asked before Tisi or Yaro could rip into her again. “He deserves a say in this.”

----------------

Jason was wondering if he’d not actually made a mistake in choosing not to visit the heads before attempting what was probably the singular most foolish decision he’d ever made in his life.

Including his decision to fist fight an off-duty Shil’vati Marine.

Why does no one ever mention that you might sorely need to drop a deuce before getting into a firefight? he thought, as he rather frantically pressed buttons on his data-pad.

Before him, Ares – as Kernathu had dubbed the Exo – hummed quietly as it ran through its system start up. It took less than a minute to do so, but it felt like an eternity as Jason kept glancing between the timer on his data-pad and the entrance to the hanger bay.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath.

Finally, the device in his hands gave a little ping, before the front of the Exo opened with a barely audible hiss.

“Now for the fun part,” he said sarcastically as he stepped over the machine.

Clambering into it was not a pleasant process. Never mind the fact that it felt vaguely like being buried alive, the Exo was predominantly designed with Shil’vati in mind. The reason it was only ‘predominantly’ and not ‘entirely’ was that Kernathu had been building it for herself.

And Kernathu was a very short Shil’vati.

“Though that still gives her a few inches on me,” Jason thought irritably as he felt the inner walls of the machine conform – quite uncomfortably – around him as the hatch of the machine slid shut, sealing him in.

For just a moment he was plunged into darkness. Claustrophobic, suffocating, unmoving darkness. Then the HUD mercifully lit up before his eyes, displaying the camera feed from the exos face plate.

“Reactor online. Weapons online. Sensors online. Systems nominal,” the suit’s internal speakers informed him calmly in a smooth male baritone.

“’Nominal’ my ass,” he grunted as he moved his arms around and took a few steps. “I feel like I’m about to slip a disk here.”

A difference of a few inches was pretty damn significant when it came to the dimensions of a piece of power armor. A perfect example of which being the fact that he had a limited range of motion in his arms. He wasn’t about to test it, but he was reasonably sure that the act of fully stretching them out would result in them both popping quite cleanly out of their sockets.

Which was something he was really hoping to avoid.

Though if you really wanted to avoid it, you’d hop out of this suit and make your way down to the toilets like you said you were going to do, he thought acerbically, even as he made his way over to the hangar’s outer door controls.

While he knew prior to getting into the thing, that it would be pretty simple to operate, he still found himself amazed by just how easy it was to move in. Physically though, it was uncomfortable as hell. Still, the machine’s limbs moved like his own, with barely a hint of lag and that was all he really needed.

The sound of the hangar doors opening seemed obscenely loud in the relative quiet that preceded it. Of course, said noise was quickly eclipsed by the sound of air rushing out into the vacuum of space.

Normally there’d be the sound of warning claxons and a thirty second window for unprotected crew to get out of the hangar before the outer doors opened, but he’d handily bypassed that. He’d also have locked the inner doors to stop someone walking in on him and getting sucked out in the process, but naturally that feature was already built into the system.

It was a nice view at least, as the last of the air within the hangar escaped, blanketing it in silence but for the sound of his rebreathers within his suit. Well, that and the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

…And the sound of his gut churning as the ghosts of meals past demanded an escape from the bowels of his… bowels.

Apparently the possibility of my imminent demise makes me poetic, he thought as he gazed out into the inky blackness of space.

Thought to be fair, not even most of his view was taken up by inky blackness. A good chunk of it was taken up by a hydrogen depot, the Grinshaw’s Maw attached to said depot, and the blue gas giant that they were both silhouetted against.

“Twelve kilometers.”

Barely a gnat’s fart in terms of space distances.

“A little further for jumping distances,” he said, his mouth dry. “Why did I think this was a good idea again?”

Because it wasn’t. It was totally insane. So, he really should turn back now and inform the captain of everything he knew and let the proper authority come up with a plan to handle this situation.

Because that worked out so well every other time I’ve left things in the hands of the proper authorities, his brain shot back instantly.

Sighing, he glanced at the railgun attached to his right arm. It was fully charged and loaded. Which was a shame, because part of him had kind of been hoping something would go wrong and that would give him a reason to turn back.

Alas, no such luck. He and Kernathu did good work.

“Private Jason, you were called to the bridge for a crew conference,” Tisi’s crisp tones came over the comms. “Why have you failed to obey that order?”

There was a definite terseness to those comments. Which was certainly understandable, given the current circumstances. Still, he couldn’t help but think there was just a little bit more of an edge to Tisi’s voice that hadn’t been there five minutes prior.

“Apologies ma’am,” he radioed back. “Using the lavs.”

“Irrelevant,” Tisi’s response was instant. “You are needed on the bridge; whether you attend while standing or do so while sitting and shitting in the aisle makes little difference at this point.”

He flinched a little at the woman’s tone. Clearly his captain was unhappy.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am,” he said finally.

There was a beat of silence, before Tisi’s voice came through the comms again, cold as ice. “Am I to believe that you are defying a direct order, private?”

“In a manner of speaking. Though, it might be more correct to say that I’m currently incapable of making my way to the bridge.”

“Explain,” Tisi said. “Do we have some kind of mechanical fault between the lavs and the bridge?”

He sighed. “Nope… well, there might be, but I wouldn’t know about it if there was.”

“And why is that, private?” the woman asked, clearly having grown tired of the run around he was giving her these last three sentences.

He took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment he irreparably torpedoed his career for reasons that were nebulous even to him.

Though some might argue that said moment had actually occurred about ten seconds back.

“Well, I’m technically not on the ship anymore,” he said finally.

Silence reigned. For more than a beat this time. It was more like three beats.

“Where are you?” The woman’s tone sent a shiver up his spine.

“Well, uh, technically I’m currently floating towards the Maw,” he glanced down at his metal encased arms. “I’m also inside Ares. That’s, uh, Kernathu’s new mech.”

“Return. Immediately.” Tisi’s voice had gone somewhere beyond mad or even furious. If he had to ascribe a particular notion to it, he’d go with nuclear. “We can discuss disciplinary actions upon your return of Imperial military property for which you are not certified.”

Well, he was sort of certified for it. He’d taken a spin in a civilian Exo during his time at university as part of the familiarization process. That counted, right?

“Can’t do that,” he repeated.

“I’m ordering you, private.”

“And I’m really tempted to obey ma’am,” he answered honestly. “Unfortunately, I’m being quite literal here. I physically can’t return to the Whisker.”

“Just activate the-”

“If you were about to say thrusters,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry to say that the Ares doesn’t have them fitted.”

Not yet at least. It had been one of the last things on the docket of things they’d needed to do. Given that any other alterations to the machine would have thrown off the weight balance, making them have to readjust the thrusters all over again, it was simpler just to leave it to last.

“So you’re drifting, completely uncontrolled, toward an enemy craft, in an scraped together Exo, that you barely know how to operate!?”

Jason glanced at the massive ship in the distance that was growing larger and larger with each passing moment.

“That would be about the sum of it,” he said. “Yeah.”

“Are you insane!?” Kernathu’s voice cut into the comms.

He might have shrugged if his current confines allowed for it. “Maybe.”

“What if you miss, Jason!?” This time it was Yaro’s turn to butt in on what was supposed to be a private line.

He glanced at the planet looming behind the ship he was aiming for. “I was trying not to think about that.”

“Why?” Tisi asked, ignoring the breaking of comm protocols. “What would possess you to do this?”

“In all likelihood there’s a hold full of kidnapped sapient beings in that ship,” he deadpanned. “Beings who are going to be sold into slavery on some godforsaken Coalition world. Unless something is done to stop Hela.”

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He couldn’t let that happen. Physically couldn’t. Not if he ever wanted to ever be able to look at himself in a mirror again. Or sleep at night. Because even an average guy like him had lines that were inviolable.

“How do you- No, never mind that,” Tisi snapped. “Why wouldn’t you talk to us about it? Let me come up with a plan that wasn’t… this!”

He sighed, really feeling like a heel.

“Because that’s all I’ve been doing for the last year. Trusting in the system to do the right thing. When I was conscripted. When I was in basic. When I was on leave. When I took my final combat exam. When I arrived at Gurathu. And when I discovered that shit like this might be happening.”

And every time, he’d been let down.

The cadets that attacked him were never punished. The noble that exiled him had been able to do so. And Hela had somehow been able to evade justice.

The system had failed every time, and this time he just couldn’t afford for that to happen.

“This time, I’m going to do something,” he finished.

Even if it is the stupidest damn thing I’ve ever done in my life, he thought as the massive battle scarred form of the Grinshaw’s Maw loomed ever larger in his view.

…Just not large enough apparently.

He was going to miss it completely.