It was just a moment’s hesitation. One borne of the fact that the two exo pilots had obviously believed themselves to be fighting a hardened Imperial marine.

Specifically, a hardened female marine.

Never mind the fact that he was very much a marine too. Because, before he was a marine, he would always be a male. And in a Shil’vati’s eyes, that factor trumped any other considerations when it came to his identity.

Which was why, when he dove toward the one on the right, she hesitated.

It was just a second. A momentary mental reorientation of the context of this fight. Barely a flicker, really.

But it was enough for him, as he drove his single remaining fist into the enemy machine’s chest cavity.

The blow failed to penetrate. Industrial exo’s were built tough. Not military grade armor tough, but certainly tough enough to withstand a bit of blunt force trauma. So other than making a small dent in the front of the exo – and no doubt rattling the brain of the pilot within – his blow achieved very little.

Until he twisted his wrist in just the right manner…

The accompanying squeal of metal was music to his ears, as the blade hidden within his limb slid into the other pilot’s cockpit with a shower of sparks – the whirring teeth along the exterior of the blade cutting through the other exo’s armor like butter.

When he finally yanked the weapon back out, it did so with a rather gratuitous spray of blood, that to be honest, he could have done without.

Still, a little gratuitousness occasionally has its benefits, he thought as he turned to find the other Exo had hesitated, one foot shifted forward, as if it had taken a step before aborting it mid-motion.

He had to wonder if these exo pilots were just loading crew pressed into service, rather than security personnel. It would explain the sudden squeamishness of his opponent, as well as their clear familiarity with the machines they were using.

He supposed it didn’t really matter in the end, as the now-pilotless mech finally toppled over – silently, given the lack of air through which to transport the sound. Still, he felt it, the reverberations from the machine’s fall echoing up through the floor and into his legs.

“It seems I owe Kernathu an apology,” he announced over open comms, even if the words were mostly for himself. “A backup melee weapon wasn’t a totally ridiculous idea.”

Though privately, he still believed it to be mostly ridiculous. Unfortunately, his engineering colleague was still a Shil’vati despite her other oddities, and that meant an almost exaggerated disdain for the idea of ammo capacity being a limitation for an exo. Which was why it had been so hard to persuade her to drop the idea of using a directed energy weapon tied to the suit’s internal generator and instead switch to a far more powerful and energy efficient railgun design.

Unfortunately, because of his victory on one front, he’d had to concede on another.

Which was why the Ares now had a chainsaw attached to one of its arms. One stolen from a lumber exo, upgraded to cut through metal, and then shortened to fit within the Ares’s right wrist cavity.

It was an abomination, but as Jason brought his hand up to aim it at the single remaining exo, he had to concede that it was a very handy abomination.

Heh, handy.

He chuckled – though it quickly turned into a fairly undignified and surprised snort as the other exo got over it’s surprise and charged at him.

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

The human’s mech – and wasn’t that a strange notion – managed to dodge the charge of her underling’s exo. Then he started dodging around as the much bigger mech repeatedly swung at him with a total lack of grace or deftness.

Not that Hela had been expecting anything else as she watched the feed on the screen in front of her.

The operator of the industrial exo was a civilian after all, and when you used subpar tools for a job, you got subpar results.

As evidenced by the veritable trail of bodies that Jason has left in his wake, she thought.

Sure, some of them had been part of her internal security force, but most had been members of the ship’s crew. Technicians, stewards, chefs and the like that she’d pressed into service.

Which is a damn shame because Grella made a rather excellent sliced Kelvat, she thought as she irritably watched Jason manage to get in a swipe against his attacker’s arm, that ridiculous saw-blade, causing a flurry of sparks, visibly paralyzing the limb.

Still, it was an unfortunate necessity. She’d been forced to leave a good portion of her crew behind when she’d left Gurathu, what with the Maw being on the ground at the time and most of her crew on shore leave. Heck, it had only been sheer luck on her part that she’d been on the ship itself when that damnable Interior Agent had jumped into the system with an honest to goddess arrest warrant for her.

That part still blew her mind.

She’d been smuggling furballs off Gurathu for nearly two years without issue, right under that low born Pernora’s nose. The woman had been none the wiser, according to the report she’d received from moles in the local Interior Agent’s office not more than two weeks ago.

Nothing had changed. The right people had been bribed on time. Her collections crew had left no witnesses. They’d made sure to only take people who otherwise wouldn’t be missed.

Yet somehow, Pernora had figured it out. More than that, the woman had the tits to actually do something about it.

That thought brought at least a little glimmer of satisfaction amidst the raging fury she was desperately trying to keep from showing on her face. Regardless of how the next few hours or days played out, her family would make sure that the upjumped law enforcer discovered in full what happened to those who crossed their social betters.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Speaking of upjumped thugs, she thought.

She turned her attention to the harried looking woman standing at a terminal across from her. Her agitated sounding chief of security was speaking in a rapid-fire tone into her headset, though at Hela’s words she stiffened, before slowly turning around, sweat beading on her forehead.

“We’ve run into some complications,” she said reluctantly.

Hela took a deep calming breath, reminding herself that she’d selected the other woman for her lack of imagination and ability to keep quiet, not her competence.

“What complications?” she asked icily. “He’s pinned down, just like you wanted. Why aren’t your people moving in yet?”

Specifically, the small group of actual militia troopers that they’d had on board when the Maw had been forced to flee, and that they’d been ostensibly been holding back until Jason’s exo was sufficiently worn down by her ‘irregulars’ that it could be taken out without her losing too many security personnel in the process.

A strange notion, but reasonable. After all, where she was going labor would be cheap, but soldiers whose loyalty could at least be somewhat relied on would be in short supply.

Which meant that they had to be rationed. Even witless ones like her current head of security.

“Due to the, uh, damage taken in our earlier engagement with the picket ships around Gurathu, a number of our internal security doors are not responding to commands.” The woman glanced back nervously. “It’s delaying the movement of my security team around the ship.”

Hela hissed irritably, causing the woman to flinch. “How long?”

“Two minutes,” the militia-lieutenant said quickly. “Three at the most.”

Hela glanced back down at the live-feed coming from the cargo bay.

“We may not have two minutes,” she announced drolly.

Indeed, even as she watched, Jason was in the act of finishing his foe in a rather brutal manner.

Though what circumstances resulted in him using his opponent’s discarded leg as a blunt instrument, I do not know, she thought as she watched the human’s mech finally bested its opposite number, caving in the front of the machine with the battered remains of the other suits’ leg.

She’d have to watch the security tapes later to find out.

“We don’t?” the militia woman asked, causing Hela’s irritation with her to tick even higher as she noted the hitch of fear in the other woman’s voice.

Honestly, a man killed a few dozen terrified technicians with pistols and the rest of the crew started treating him like he was some kind of Death’s Head Commando - instead of a clearly desperate primitive in a jury-rigged exo, desperately trying to spite his betters. And never let it be forgotten that he was a he. Which only made her head of security’s inability to have brought him to heel thus far all the more shameful.

“Fear not,” Hela said, eyes still on the screen. “I spoke too soon. It seems the loss of two of my exo’s and their operators was not totally in vain.”

Jason’s exo was down, and despite what was clearly his best efforts, didn’t seem to be getting back up. Clearly, something critical had finally given out in the machine, because from what she could see, its legs were no longer functioning.

“His mech’s legs appear to have lost power.” She glanced at her head of security. “Are your people ready yet?”

“Another minute.” The woman said, exhaling in relief – likely at the fact that the human’s exo had lost leg mobility.

Hela twitched, but nodded. “Remember, I want him taken alive.”

The ape had given her people a good run, but it was over now. Though she had to stifle another irritable twitch as the human, in a seeming final act of defiance, flung a chunk of discarded metal at the camera watching him, cutting off her feed from the area.

Oh, she certainly still had cameras in the cargo-bay, but none covering that particular spot.

Honestly Jason, a little spunkiness is cute, but you’re seriously getting on my nerves now.

“I’ve lost visual,” Hela relayed.

Her head of security nodded. “It’s fine, my people should be moving in any second now. I think they can handle a single belligerent male.”

Hela quietly quirked an eyebrow and resisted the urge to point out that they hadn’t been able to do that before now. Instead, she sat back in her plush command seat with a sigh.

It was moments like this that made her wish she’d sprung for the helmet cams that marines used when they were out in the field so she could see what was happening. Alas, the ‘made by lowest bidder’ sets that her militia people wore didn’t have that feature.

Or any features at all really, beyond a very thin coating of thermoplast and a thirty-minute air supply. Though both those features had also been known to fail in the past as well.

Might have to reconsider that policy, she thought as she swiveled around in her chair, idly listening to the ambient noise of her bridge crew. Can’t exactly go about relying on the aegis of the family name when I ‘defect’ to the Consortium.

Of course, that line of thought brought up a whole host of issues and emotions she really couldn’t afford to deal with right now.

Empress above, she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Running away from the Imperium. Sure, she’d always known it might be a possibility when she set up her little… side gig, but she’d never really expected it to happen.

She was the goddess-damned heir of the Helstrom dynasty! Crossing her family was political suicide for anyone outside a ducal line. So where did some nobody bureaucrat from the Interior get off bringing her up on charges!?

She wished she could relive that moment. When the cunt had all her little picket ships lined up in orbit, arrogantly commanding her to power down her engines and surrender for an immediate search of her ship.

Of course, what the Interior Agent hadn’t realized was that one of the five ships she had with her were on Hela’s payroll. And its crew had known that if the Interior Agent took Hela down, the noblewoman would have zero issue throwing them all into the Grinshaw’s claws to get herself a better deal.

So they’d done the smart thing.

Of course, said ship had been destroyed in the ensuing firefight, so it wasn’t like doing the smart thing had worked out particularly well for them, but it had allowed Hela to get away.

“We, uh, have a problem ma’am.”

The heiress could feel a headache starting to form at the base of her skull as she swiveled round to look upon the sweaty expression of her head of security.

“If you’ve killed the human…”

“No!” The other woman said, paling. “That’s the, uh, problem. He’s gone missing. My people have found the exo he was using, but it’s empty.”

That… that wasn’t too big an issue. The human had been a threat because he’d been in a rather large warmachine that Hela had no easy answer to. Her onboard armory was somewhat lacking in tools to bring down power armored opponents.

Now that he was out of it though?

“Well then, find him,” Hela gave the obvious response. “Now that he’s out of the suit, he can’t just tear through doors as he pleases. Which means he’s probably still in the cargo bay.”

Which was still a fairly massive area to have to search, with plenty of nooks and crannies for a small male to hide in, but it was still easier than having to comb the entire ship.

Her head of security nodded. “I’ll join the search myself, ma’am.”

“Just find him,” Hela stated, turning back around.

Behind her, she heard the rustle of armor as the militia officer headed out. For which she was thankful. She didn’t know much longer she could tolerate the other woman’s presence.

“Cleffa,” she said, turning towards her helmswoman. “How long until we can jump to phase?”

“Eighteen minutes ma’am,” the unflappable woman responded instantly.

Excellent.

She was just about to finally relax into her chair, when an idea occurred to her. Tentatively, she reached over to her comms.

“Jason?”

After a few seconds of silence, she felt just a little foolish. It wasn’t like the human was going to-

“What?”

The man’s tone was just as delightfully deadpan as it always was, if a little out of breath.

“Oh, I just figured I’d check in with you, see if you’re willing to finally give up this silly charade – and yourself.” As soon as she finished speaking she flipped her mic to mute and looked over at her communications specialist. “Is there any way to track this?”

The rather severe looking older woman shook her head. “Not with our equipment.”

Hela just sighed. It had been a long shot anyway. Instead she sat back and awaited the human’s response.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” the voice in her ear crackled.

Hela rolled her eyes at the false bravado. “Knock off the Turox-shit, Jason. Your exo is out of commission and I’ve got a team of real soldiers coming to pull you out of whatever hidey hole you’ve secreted yourself in. I can assure you, they’ll be nothing like the frightened crew women you pulped on your little rampage through the ship.”

“Yeah, I had a sinking feeling most of the girls I came across weren’t really soldiers.”

Hela reclined in her seat. “Just innocent crew women.”

The human’s chuckle was not a pleasant thing. “Armed crew women. Working for a slaver. That they weren’t particularly good combatants doesn’t make them innocent. Just incompetent criminals.”

“Seems pretty callous,” Hela said. “They were just following the orders of their betters.”

She heard him grunt over the line, which made her think he was moving, rather than hiding in one spot. Something she relayed in a text to her security chief.

“Yeah, we had a group of soldiers back on Earth that used that defense way back when,” he said.

“Did it work?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“No,” he said simply. “We executed them all the same.”

The woman frowned. “Seems rather unfair. Soldiers are required to follow orders, otherwise they may be punished, perhaps even killed.”

“Yep,” the human said, almost cheerily. “But they still have a choice. A shit choice, but a choice nonetheless.”

“Still seems unfair.”

“Life’s not fair. If it was, I’d still be on Earth, not stuck on a piece of shit spaceship talking to an even bigger piece of shit woman.”

Alright, fuck this.

That did it. She was done playing the gentlewoman. Her quota for male precociousness had officially reached its end.

“You listen here, human! I’m done with this shit! You’ve refused me twice. You’ve killed my crew. Destroyed my machines. Damaged my ship! And now you’ve insulted me.” She hissed into the line. “My patience is at an end. No more playing. Give yourself up right now, or I’ll have you stripped bare and forced to service everyone of my crew before we reach the Consortium. It might negatively affect your value, but I’m willing to swallow the loss if it means I don’t have to swallow any more of your Turox shit!”

Silence reigned on the line and in the bridge, the rest of her crew apparently stunned by the sudden outburst. Even Cleffa was staring at her in surprise. Not that Hela blamed her, she was a little surprised herself.

Slowly, she took a deep breath letting the anger flow out of her.

Apparently, the events of the last few hours had bothered her more than she cared to admit.

“You missed something,” Jason said finally.

And then that anger was back. The sheer insolence in this male’s tone as he spoke to her.

“What’s that?” she hissed.

“I also shot you in the leg.”

What? No, he-

Then something hit her in the leg.