Genvass gave his security chief a piteous look. “Do we really have to do this? This isn’t a diplomatic event, after all.”

Rúna’s expression was far more stern. “Yes, we really have to do this, Ambassador,” she answered. “First off, it's good practice, and second, everything you do now is a diplomatic event, whether you like it or not. You’re heading out on your first official assignment on behalf of the Provisional New Terran government, which makes this a historical event. Which means we do this right.”

With a heavy sigh, he glumly accepted his fate. “It’s my second assignment, actually,” he pointed out uncharitably. “You’re forgetting about the Oivu.”

“Doesn’t count,” she fired back. “That was an ad hoc affair, done on the fly. From now on, though, we pull out all the stops.” She took a moment to make one last adjustment to his attire before giving him a nod of approval. “You look good. Time to get this show on the road.”

She turned to face the detachment of guards standing at parade rest, wearing uniforms similar to hers, awaiting orders. “Detail, atten-shun!”

Half a dozen boots slammed together in unison, as the men and women before her obeyed her command. “Right face!” she barked, the squad pivoting as one to face the ramp before them, flanking Genvass.

“Right shoulder, arms!” The squad’s rifles were brought up and placed on their shoulders, a complex maneuver they executed fluidly. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for his part in all of this, as Rúna gave the command, “For-ward, march!”

The marines moved in lockstep, their boots hitting the deck as one, while he adopted a somewhat more leisurely stroll. There’d been a great deal of debate on that, with him chiming in it would be easier all around if he simply marched at the same pace as his escort. Both Rúna and the Dàifu immediately shot that one down, though for different reasons. His clan leader hated the optics of it, claiming it made him look like a wannabe dictator, while his chief of security said bluntly that he, quote, “Marched like shit”.

Keeping his head up and forcing a smile as they advanced towards the ramp, Genvass saw the captain and her crew awaiting their arrival. They’d found uniforms as well… in fact, he was the only one wearing what could remotely be considered civilian attire, though it carried the various badges and medals his clan leader had insisted on. The whole thing felt like some bizarre scripted dance in some ancient comic opera; in fact, part of him kept waiting for someone to break out into song. As they climbed onto the platform in front of the airlock, Rúna called out, “Detail, halt!”, bringing the group to a standstill. He reminded himself not to do likewise, otherwise, it gave the appearance of his security chief giving him orders. The Dàifu had insisted on that point.

I hate optics; he thought bitterly to himself, as he stepped forward to greet Taneka.

“Welcome to the Mako, Ambassador,” she said formally.

“Thank you, captain,” he answered. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Permission granted,” the captain replied. Apparently, the old Terran navy had its own traditions, and once she learned just how formal things were going to be, she trotted out this brief exchange. Leave it to the military to take something as simple as stepping through an airlock and turning it into a complicated tactical operation.

“Allow me to introduce my crew,” Taneka continued, as she stood near a gaunt man with thinning hair. “My executive officer and navigator, Commander Karl Israfil.”

“Commander,” he said politely. Best to get through this quickly and painlessly, he thought to himself.

“Ambassador,” he replied, with a rich baritone.

Moving to the next in line, Taneka faced a dark-skinned woman with intense eyes. “My second mate and gunner, Lieutenant Yoshiko Singh.”

“Lieutenant,” Genvass said with a nod.

“Ambassador,” she answered, with a slight bow.

Next was a beefy, florid man, with thick black hair. “My chief engineer, Lieutenant Avram Cardona,” she said by way of introduction.

“Lieutenant,” he smiled.

“Ambassador,” the man said coolly, eyeing him with suspicion. Well, he’d expected that.

The next person in line was a pale blond man with bright blue eyes. “My purser, Chief Petty Officer Maximus Châu.”

“Chief,” Genvass said affably.

“Ambassador,” he said with an amiable smile.

“My Master-At-Arms,” the captain continued as they moved on, indicating a muscular woman with short chestnut hair, “Petty Officer Zaveta Châu, Max’s wife.”

“Petty Officer,” he said cordially, though the repetitive nature of the ceremony was getting to him.

“Ambassador,” she replied with a curt nod. Well, it was easy to see why she held the position she did.

“And finally, our new assistant engineer,” Taneka said dryly, as the young man squared his shoulders and looked straight ahead, “... Crewman Diggs Rademacher. I believe you two have met?”

“Indeed, we have,” Genvass chuckled. “You settling in all right?” he asked him.

“Yes sir, Mister Ambassador!” he piped up, his voice breaking slightly. The kid was giving it his all, but he could sense an unwelcome air surrounding them. He had his work cut out for him if he was ever going to fit in with the crew.

He glanced over at his escort with a raised eyebrow, only to earn a negative head shake in return. They’d been over this several times, and he still didn’t like it. Now that she had introduced him to the crew, he’d wanted to reciprocate and do the same for his security detail. It only seemed fair, but Rúna quickly nixed the idea and informed him it “Wasn’t how things were done”. She and the other marines would introduce themselves informally once they were on board; apparently, as “mere” guards, they didn’t rate a more formal recognition ceremony. Had Captain Taneka said that there would have been words, however, with Rúna insisting it be handled this way, his hands were effectively tied.

He really didn’t get military tradition, despite his best efforts.

Now that he’d been “Piped aboard”, Taneka fell in beside him as they entered the ship proper, his security detail moving along with them. As they arrived at the common area Rúna snapped, “Detail, halt!” Genvass waited patiently as she officially stood them down, the squad and crew both relaxing as the ceremonial aspect of their takeoff concluded, as she addressed her second in command.

“Show them their cabins, store the rifles, and get ‘em out of the monkey suits,” she ordered. “Duty roster starts at twelve hundred hours, four-hour rotation. If anything else comes up, I’ll let you know. Questions?”

“No ma’am, I’m on it,” Becca informed her, before turning to the squad. “You heard the major. Let’s get it done.” They filed out as the crew began going about their business, preparing the ship for departure. He gave Diggs a wink as he scurried behind his new boss, the senior Tinker firing off a laundry list of duties he wanted carried out.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Ambassador?” Taneka asked him.

“Has Ess Peon boarded yet?” he inquired. Being an uploaded personality, she’d ducked out of the ceremonial fol-de-rol. Genvass envied her that. She planned to simply transmit herself aboard and settle in.

“She has,” the Corsair nodded. “She said you can speak with her at any time, through standard channels.”

“Splendid,” he nodded. “In that case, the major and I will get out of your hair and let you get underway.”

“It’s a pleasure having you aboard Mako, Ambassador,” she told him. “Feel free to forward any requests to me or my crew.” There was a pause as she and Rúna eyed one another, before heading off towards the bridge.

“Shall I escort you to your cabin, Ambassador?” she queried him.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed, as the pair made their way to the stateroom they’d be sharing during their voyage. Once inside, she sealed the door, double-checking the electronic bolt, before plopping onto her cot and sighing with relief.

“Thank Terra that’s over,” she groaned, stripping off her gun belt and setting it aside along with her sword.

“I suspect we’ll be getting plenty of practice,” he said unhappily. “I would think you of all people would welcome cutting down on some of the sillier traditions.”

She stared at him as if he’d just committed blasphemy. “There’s no such thing,” she countered, “at least not in my world.” Rúna began unsealing her blouse, shrugging out of the blue and red jacket as Genvass flushed and turned away.

“Maybe I should step out for a minute…” he mumbled, rising to his feet.

She stared at him in confusion. “Why?”

He managed to look more confused than she did. “Um… to give you some privacy?” he offered.

Her expression shifted from bewildered to incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she snorted, shaking her head as she started pulling off her boots.

“... I was just trying to be polite,” he mumbled, still refusing to look in her direction.

Rúna froze, staring at him like he’d sprouted a third arm, before groaning and slapping her forehead. “You’re a Dharmist,” she said in sudden realization. “I forgot about that.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” he said, now growing indignant.

“You’re not used to shipboard life,” she explained, now more relaxed, having deduced the problem. “You grew up dirtside, didn’t you?”

“So?” he fired back.

“So, life on a planet is a hell of a lot different from living aboard ship,” she informed him, “especially when it comes to privacy. Because on a ship, there isn’t any. If you get flustered every time you see a little skin, this is gonna be a long trip for you.”

Gamely, he tried to regroup. “Maybe if we asked the captain for some line and extra sheets, we could partition the space between our bunks,” he suggested.

“We are not doing that,” Rúna snapped. “For one, I’m not going to willingly surrender that much visibility while I’m protecting my principal. And two, if I let you do that, you’ll be a laughingstock. So no.”

“Why would the crew care we put up a blanket?” he demanded, growing irritated at her reaction.

“Cause they all grew up shipboard too,” she explained, though it felt like she was speaking to an especially dim-witted child. “So, my advice? Get used to it, ‘cause we’re stuck with each other for the duration.”

Genvass said nothing in return. Instead, he simply sat there, his face reddening with embarrassment until Rúna sighed and said, “Genvass? Look at me.”

With a great deal of effort, he dragged his eyes up toward her. “Are you attracted to me?” she asked point blank.

“What? No!” he said in shock.

Rúna folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “This would normally be the part of the conversation where I’d ask what’s wrong with the way I look, but I figure you’ve got enough on your plate already.” She chuckled for a moment, and then said, “But seriously… are you?”

He sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m not. You’re an attractive woman, but I’m not attracted to you, if that makes any sense.”

“Glad to hear it. The feeling’s mutual, in case you were wondering. I’m not looking to get involved,” she said quietly. Their eyes met, and for a moment, he could see the pain she kept locked inside.

“I know,” he said softly.

“Okay then, how about you think of me like a sister, and we’re stuck rooming together because space is cramped,” she said nonchalantly. “And if you still get a twinge of embarrassment, just don’t look.” She paused. “Or look, I don’t care. But no leering, I draw the line at that. I catch you eyeballing me that hard, I’ll dislocate your shoulder just for fun,” she grinned.

“I swear, I won’t look,” Genvass said hoarsely. He knew she wasn’t just making an idle threat.

“Then no problem,” she shrugged, as she began disrobing again, while he busied himself with some research regarding the Alliance he’d been meaning to catch up on. Within a few minutes, she’d finished changing out of the dress blues and into a set of fatigues. “Okay, I’m done,” she grinned. “You can quit pretending to read that tablet.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” he said in a huff.

“Uh-huh,” she chuckled, as he sighed and set down the tablet.

“Why do I feel like you enjoy making me uncomfortable?” he said suspiciously.

“Shipboard life gets monotonous in a hurry. You learn to make your own fun.” Rúna laughed as he glared back at her, before she sat down and grew serious. “Look, this job is going to be stressful enough as it is unless you can find some way to blow off steam. The problem is that out there you have to keep up appearances, which narrows your options. This cabin, however, is the one place aboard this ship where you can relax and put up your feet, but the only way that’ll work is if you feel comfortable enough around me to actually loosen up.”

“I… hadn’t thought about that,” Genvass admitted.

“I figured,” she nodded. “Out there, my job is to keep you safe, to be seen without being noticed. Think of me like furniture; always there, but never calling attention to itself. You give commands, and I obey. Simple as that. In here, though, I’m a sounding board, and stress relief.” He quirked an eyebrow at her last sentence once she realized what she’d just said. “Not like that,” she backpedaled, scowling while she waited for him to say something. Wisely, he refrained from commenting.

“Where did you learn so much about diplomacy?” he asked her once he was certain it wouldn’t be taken the wrong way.

Rúna sighed, before unhooking the scabbard from her gun belt and holding it out in front of her. “Same place I got this,” she said, tugging on the sword’s hilt and baring a few centimeters of the blade. It gleamed in the light, polished to a high sheen and sharp as a razor. “Guy I got it from took me under his wing and mentored me on the subject, despite me trying desperately to wriggle off the hook.”

He peered closer at the blade. “That’s an Ixian sword, isn’t it?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah… it is.” Shoving the blade back into its scabbard, she reattached it to her belt. Genvass waited for her to expand on that, but it seemed she was done discussing the matter.

The monitor on the bulkhead came to life, as the familiar elfin image of Ess Peon appeared on screen. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.

“No, you’re not,” he informed her. “You all settled in?”

“I am, but that’s not why I rang,” she explained. “I’ve been monitoring local traffic, and…” Her voice trailed off as she debated what to say next.

“And what?” Genvass insisted.

Ess swallowed hard. “And… I think we have a problem.”