The next day, Marcus went to visit Locke again. He had woken up early, visited the galley, grabbed a fruit snack for Penske, and after dropping it off in the engineering bay on her workstation, went back to the galley for two coffees. He walked to the medbay with coffees in hand, seeing few other crewmen. The others were either just now rousing for their shift, or winding down to sleep. Such was the life of a tank that had to be active at all hours of the day. Marcus checked his timepiece. In space and on Earth, time was relegated to Earth time. Twenty-four hour days, twelve hours of day, and twelve hours of night. Marcus had been born in orbit above Mars, but he had set foot on the red planet only a handful of times, and have never fully grasped the time system the planet used. From what he understood, the days were almost exactly the same length, but the years were almost twice as long. Earth and Mars' colonies had different governments, but both governments had agreed that it would be best to go along with Earth's systems of time measurement, as Earth was the progenitor planet.

Marcus walked, deep in thought, as he often was. The Seditionists, or the Federacy of Sapient Beings as they called themselves, must go off of a completely different metric for time, as they didn't recongize Earth as their focal point any longer, as Mars often did. Euri Giorno's star was massive, much larger than Sol, and the light it gave off was different somehow. Marcus had learned during his childhood education that Euri Giorno had many planets in the system that were habitable, making it perfect for human colonization. Harmattan, however, was on the very edge of that solar system, and as such, the planet was colder than most would like, and it was far from easily habitable. However, it was the only planet in the Euri Giorno system that the EMC hadn't been repelled from in its initial attack, and according to the talking heads in Command, it was the perfect planet for launching further attacks into the Euri Giorno system. It was at the edge of the solar system, and had long years, which meant it was close to Sol for extended periods of time.

Marcus reached the medbay, his thoughts on time, space, and space-bound governments vanishing as he rounded the corner. However, when he entered, he almost dropped the coffee he carried. He saw Vidi Vid, the assistant loader, bending down to kiss Locke. The wounded marine had his hand on the other man's cheek, a look of fondness in his eyes. Marcus instantly backed out, thinking quickly. He didn't want to bother Locke, nor Vidi, so he walked as quietly as he could down the hallways, and into a utility closet. He waited for a few moments, and with the door cracked open, he heard footsteps walk towards, and then away from him. He peeked out of the closet to see the back of Vidi's head as the taller man disappeared around a corner. Do they know I saw? Marcus wondered. He gulped, his throat dry. Relationships aboard a tank like this was inevitable, but it was harshly punished. It wasn't just Wyatt's orders condemning relationships abord the Enoch, it was the stature of the EMC as a whole. Relationships made everything more complicated, and war was complicated enough as it was. I didn't know Locke swung that way, Marcus thought, shrugging. Not that it was any of his business. He waited a few more moments, before exiting the closet, and walking back into the medbay.

Locke looked up, surprised to see him. A smile spread across his face. Marcus felt relief. He didn't know I saw, he thought to himself.

"I'm glad you're awake, man," Marcus said, walking over to Locke. Thaler was absent for some reason, the young engineer noted.

"Yeah, me too. Thaler's been keeping me under a lot lately. Something about healing better while I'm asleep, but between you and me, I think he doesn't like being in a room with other people." Marcus sat down on the cot opposite Locke, and held out a coffee for the wounded marine. "Conscious people, anyway," said Locke, who took the coffee with a grateful nod.

"Thaler said you can have coffee now, right? I don't want your guts to burst out because of me." Marcus raised his eyebrows in faux worry. Locke's coffee was already to his lips, and his eyes said all they needed to about the issue. Fuck Thaler, they said, as Locke gulped down a significant portion of the coffee. He shivered, and smiled.

"It gets really cold in here. The blankets they have are ok, but not quite enough. And I can't move around to keep warm, so I'm chilled almost all day." Locke held up the coffee and smiled. "Thank you, Marcus, I appreciate this. We're lucky Thaler went to get breakfast." Marcus nodded.

"You're welcome, Manny." Marcus said. Locke's first name felt akward to use, but Locke had used his first name, so he decided to follow suit. They were in the military, and was simply more appropriate to refer to everyone else by their rank and last name. If they were of equal rank, like Marcus and Locke technically were, then it was just easier to stick with the last names.

"How are you today?" Locke asked politely. Marcus nodded again.

"I'm good, I'm good. Definitely better than I imagine you are right now," Marcus said with a grin. Locke made a face and waved Marcus away.

"Nah man, I'm good too. Thaler's weaning me off of the drugs slowly, but I still feel great. My side kinda tingles, and I imagine it'll hurt like a bitch in the next couple of days, but it's alright for now. Other than the coffee, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?" Locke laid his head back into his pillow, sighing. Marcus shrugged.

"I have some time before Penske starts cracking the whip. She gets up early, but she's not really awake until mid-morning. Until then, she's almost like a zombie. It's all autopilot." Marcus said with a chuckle. Locke laughed, and the two were quiet for awhile. Marcus drank from his coffee and looked at his feet. It was a moment before Locke spoke up.

"Where are you from, Marcus Rhyne? We've been in battle before, and we've known each other for awhile, but I don't know anything about you." Locke said, looking at Marcus. The young engineer shrugged.

"I've been space-bound my whole life. My dad worked on ship systems as an engineer, and my mom was a nurse. We hopped from ship to ship in the EMC until I eventually left home to join the military. I trained as an engineer, and here I am." Marcus took a sip from his coffee again. "What about you, where do you come from?" Marcus asked. Locke smiled, looking at the ceiling before taking another sip of coffee.

"I'm from a place called Maine. Heard of it?" Locke asked. Marcus shook his head. "It's on Earth. You heard of the Apple Market Massacre?" Locke looked at Marcus, his face shadowed. The young engineer nodded. He indeed had, as it was the inciting incident that had sparked the Sapience War. A robot had killed a vendor at a place called Apple Market on Earth. It sparked widespread violence against AI of all varieties. Robots were destroyed in the streets, their mangled bodies tossed onto gasoline-fueled pyres. After a brief period of one-sided violence, the SAPs, as they then claimed to be, fought back, further fueling the war. At the time, the Euri Giorno system, and every habited planet in the system, was claimed by the EMC. However, rather than the same anti-SAP sentiment sparking the same conflict in the Euri Giorno system, the humans of the system instead sided with the SAPs, and incensed by the incredible violence being committed against AI, whom they believed were equal to humans, they separatedfrom the EMC, and formed their own government.

The Federacy of Sapient Beings was born, or the Seditionists, as the EMC labeled them. The EMC brutally crushed the insurrection of the SAPs, and founded several laws inhibiting the capabilities of AI. Any rights they previously held were abolished, and they were no longer viewed as sapient, or self-aware. Dissenters among human populations in the EMC existed, but were nowhere near the majority. All of this was almost ancient history, occuring more than a century ago. But the ripples of that war reverberated even now, as the EMC fought the Seditionists on Harmattan for a foothold in the Euri Giorno system. The entire war between the Seditionists and the EMC had been sparked over AI rights, and it was still a talking point today.

"I'm from Apple Market, and my family has lived there for quite a long time," Locke said. He frowned, his face dark. "I lost a lot of family members a long time ago. We're all still very upset about it, as you can imagine." He stared at his coffee. Marcus swallowed. "That's why I joined up, you know? To get back at the fuckers that think toasters deserve rights. Like, fuck, man. What kind of person would side with trash like that?" Locke shook his head. Marcus felt uncomfortable. Before he could speak up, Locke's face almost instantly brightened, and he smiled.

"Sorry man, I apologize. You took personal time to come here and bring me coffee, and here I am spouting politics and bullshit. How's work been for you?" Locke said, his face completely changed. Marcus felt himself ease, with the topic changed, though he was slightly worried about Locke. He had dived into anti-SAP rhetoric the last time he visited too. The young engineer took another sip of his coffee. It was starting to chill, likely aided by the less-than-comfortable temperatures in the medbay.

"It's been fine. Keeping busy, trying to keep the tank in tip-top shape for when we find the Cain." he said. Locke nodded.

"Oh yeah, I hope we see them soon. The Methuselah deserves some revenge." He looked at Marcus. "Do you know where we are?" he asked. Marcus nodded.

"Yeah, kind of. I heard Burns talking to Brogers the other day, and he mentioned we're at the front, nearing enemy lines. He thinks one more week of travel, and we'll be in the thick of it." he said to Locke. The marine nodded.

"A week. I wonder what Wyatt's plan is," he mused aloud. Marcus shrugged.

"I don't know, but I imagine it'll be good, whatever it is. I trust him." he said to Locke. The marine laughed.

"Yeah, me too," said Locke. The two were silent again, before Locke spoke up. "How about family, Marcus. You mentioned your mom and dad, got any siblings?" Marcus shook his head.

"Space is at a premium in orbit, so couples aren't allowed to have more than one child. I don't mind being an only child, though. It wasn't so bad. There were a ton of other only children on the ships I grew up on, so I had friends." Marcus took another sip from his coffee. Cold, now. He frowned, before looking back at Locke. "How about you?" he asked the marine.

"Yeah, I've got an older sister and a younger brother," Locke said, "and both of my parents are still on Earth. My sister works in Command, and my younger brother works at Mother Base Sigma." Marcus nodded.

"What do they-" before he could finish his question, he was interrupted by his radio crackling to life.

"Come to the hold," Marcus heard Penske's voice coming through the radio, "I have something to show you." There was nothing more, so Marcus keyed his radio mic.

"Copy that, I'm on my way." He responded to her. He heard her side crackle in some sort of response, but it didn't come through. He shrugged, and looked at Locke, standing up. "Well, I guess I have to get back to it. I'll bring more coffee tomorrow, maybe." Locke nodded.

"It was nice seeing you again, man. I appreciate the coffee. Have a good one," he said. Marcus nodded, and finished his coffee, tossing it in the waste recepticle by the door. As he exited, he almost slammed into Thaler, who was walking in. Marcus apologized to the frowning doctor, and sidestepped to allow the older man to walk in. Thaler narrowed his eyes at Marcus, and looked at Locke, who looked back at Thaler. Locke held his coffee blatantly, in a challenge. Try and take it from me, Locke's eyes seemed to say to Thaler. The doctor sighed, shrugging, and walked over to his terminal. Marcus stifled his mirth, and exited the medbay. He walked the distance to the hold, encountering nobody on the way. Everyone was likely firmly in their assigned tasks by now, overseen by their superior officers. Marcus cycled the door to the hold with a hiss, and he walked through it to see Penske standing proudly in from of the Chuma suit.

He walked up to stand beside her, his surprise plainly painted across his face. She beamed at him, proud of her work.

"Penske, what did you do?" he asked her, a smile spreading across his face. She shrugged.

"Do you like it?" she asked him. He nodded, staring at her creation. She had transformed it from a machine of war into an outright abomination, in every positive sense of the word. Firstly, she had painted the suit a tan color, from the drab grey it was previously, and she had painted the face of a raging chuma on the front of the suit, as per its namesake. Secondly, she had welded fierce-looking spikes at various points on the hull of the already-formidable suit. Most were on the front, however, around the collar, the chest, and the ribcage. She walked up to the suit, thumping its hull.

"If you get into a tussel with another chuma, these spikes will make it more difficult for the fiend to grapple with you." She smiled up at her work. Marcus was gobsmacked.

"Penske, the spikes are brilliant. What made you think to put them on?" he asked earnestly.

"I grew up in a small village on Earth. My family kept sheep. And where there are sheep, there are wolves. We kept massive dogs-" she held her arms wide to exagerate the size of the animal in question, "and the dogs protected the sheep." She looked up at the suit. "We kept collars around their necks that are covered in spikes. That way, if a wolf got the advantage of the dog, and it went for the throat, the spikes would protect it." She looked at Marcus. "We'd wake up some mornings to find the dogs calmly sitting with the sheep, as dopey as always, their necks covered in blood that wasn't their own." She thumped the suit again.

"This suit is firmly yours, Rhyne. I've registered it in your name. Typhon said she'd handle the full registration with Command, maybe fudge its VIN a bit so it comes across as a Ringlefinch rather than a Hrungnir." She smiled at him. "Command doesn't really know we have this, you know. Best not to explain how we found it. And they may want to take it back, which isn't happening." Marcus was shocked.

"Penske, I don't know what to say-" he was interrupted by Penske raising a hand.

"Don't say anything, Marcus. You earned this. You did your best to protect your fellow crewmates on that expedition, and you basically saved the tank by bringing that oil impeller back. Which, may I add, was in perfect condition, and arguably functions better than the other impellers we have on hand." She walked up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've done well, and I'm proud of you." Marcus felt himself begin to get choked up by Penske's generosity, and her kind words. This wasn't like the usual Penske, who was more often than not more on the "brusk" side of the spectrum. Before he could say anything more, she walked back over to the suit and motioned him to come closer. He did so, getting a closer look at the suit.

"I welded more armor on the front of the suit, which will make it a touch slower, but I upped the range on the leg servos, so it shouldn't feel too unwieldly. After the beating that chuma did to your arms," she said gesturing at the machine's limbs, "I armored these too. I also took off the weapon mounts on the wrists, and replaced them with Ringlefinch actuators." Sure enough, Marcus saw, she had replaced the hands with Ringlefinch hands, with marked improvements. The previous Hrungnir hands were weak, and not at all the priority of the suit, which made it difficult to grapple with the chuma in the dunes. Ringlefinch hands, however, were built to be rugged, durable, and strong, for the purpose of lifting heavy objects. Penske pointed at the fingertips on the Ringlefinch's four-fingered hand.

"I even sharpened them on the fingertips. You could easily pierce a chuma's hide with this kind of gripping power, so if you get into another fistfight with the wildlife, you won't lose your grip on them." she said. Marcus nodded, fascinated. She pointed at the forearms of the machine. "I've also armored these arms, so nothing is going to pry off these armor plates anymore. I've also replaced the actuators in the shoulders with Ringlefinch actuators, so the arms are much stronger now." Marcus nodded, knowing what that meant. Ringlefinches, being used as bipedal forklifts, were immensely strong. The Hrungnir suits, however, were designed to be faster hit-and-run suits that could deliver a significant amount of firepower downrange at a moment's notice. Replacing the actuators meant the Hrungnir was now significantly stronger than it was originally designed to be.

"You've built a brawler," Marcus said. Penske nodded.

"You struggled, really, with that chuma fight. I went back and viewed the suit's footage. It almost got you a couple of times." She looked at him. "Next time you face a large critter like that, you may not have a ripper saw to save you. You'll need to rely on a suit's inherent capabilities." Marcus nodded at this, agreeing with her. Penske slapped the knee of the Hrungnir suit. "Just be careful with the joints, Marcus. It's hard to armor joints, as this suit's namesake proves." She pointed at the suit's arms again. "I moved the weapon mounts further up the forearms, which means the recoil will be more manageable." Marcus nodded. He had a question to ask her.

"If I face off against another chuma, do you think I-" he was cut off by the tank's intercom crackling to life. Both and he and Penske looked up at the intercom on the upper wall of the hold.

"All hands, stations. We have tank sign. Prepare for battle."