“I can try,” Tisi said without looking up from her command console.

Sat on the command throne of the Whisker’s bridge, the young woman looked every bit the commanding officer Jason would have expected to see in something like Star Trek. The Bridge as a whole shared the aesthetic, though occupied by a far more utilitarian metal exterior than the sleek white designs you saw so often in fiction.

Still, as breathtaking as the view was, it did little to dampen the disappointment he felt at the woman’s words.

It must have shown on his face, because as Tisi glanced up from the pad she’d been tapping away at, the woman gave him a look that at least seemed sympathetic.

“I mean it Private,” she said as she uncrossed her legs, the skintight black and yellow jumpsuit she wore moving in ways he might have had more interest in under different circumstances. “I don’t know why someone as unqualified as yourself was posted to my ship, and I intend to find out.”

While part of him bristled at being labeled ‘unqualified’, he had to admit that the moniker fit him perfectly.

He was unqualified.

“Does my dossier say anything at all, ma’am?” he persevered when all of his Gauntlet honed instincts told him to shut up and get out of sight.

He ignored them though. If he wanted answers, he had to ask, even if it meant going against everything he’d learned about dealing with his superiors in the last three months.

“Hmm,” Tisi hummed as she seemed to mull the question over.

For good reason. As the captain, she was well within her rights not to tell him anything. Hell, normally a meeting with a crewmen as lowly as him would have been beneath her station. There would have been all sorts of middlemen between him and her. It just so happened that the Whisker’s small crew size meant that there was a lot less of a barrier between the ranks in this case.

“Nothing,” she said finally. “Aside from your aptitude scores and the like, all it really tells me is that you’re human, male and that you have some experience with mechanical engineering.” She leveled a stare at him, smiling slightly. “And that you performed excellently on your final training exam.”

Jason resisted the urge to shrug uncomfortably, instead squaring his shoulders as he was trained to do. “Some of it was luck, ma’am.”

“I’m sure,” the woman said, in a manner that suggested she believed none of it. “Still, as your captain, I do promise to look into how you came to be here. I’m not exactly happy with being sent a half-trained crewman either.”

She stood up, gesturing for him to follow her as she stepped off the bridge and started walking down the ship’s halls. Jason had to skip a bit to catch up to the woman’s long gait.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, though. Gurathu’s in the middle of nowhere and our messenger train reflects that. At the very least, it’s going to take a week for my message to reach command, but it could take months for it to penetrate bureaucracy.” She gave him a significant look as they both stepped into the ship’s single elevator. “Even then, I’m sure it’ll be ‘lost’ once or twice along the way.”

“Lost, ma’am?”

The Captain glanced at him. “Let’s not play politics. I joined the military over the Interior to avoid that. You’re here because you gave someone high up a black eye. They’ve repaid the favor by effectively stranding you here. It will be fixed eventually, but whoever did this will be delaying it. Maybe they’ll delay it a little. Maybe a lot. Depends on how many favors they’re willing to burn.”

Jason had a feeling that was the case. It was still a bummer to have it outright confirmed though.

“Chin up Private,” Tisi said, unknowingly echoing Assisse’s words from earlier. “The Whisker may not be glamorous, but she’s not a bad posting either. As I understand it, you were looking to get into something engineering related?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” the woman said as the elevator came to a stop, and they stepped out into another hallway that seemed totally identical to the ones they’d already been through. The Whisker might have been small by Shil’vati standards, but that didn’t make the frigate ‘small’.

“I’ll be setting you up as our resident engineer’s assistant, that should serve to make you useful and keep your skills sharp,” the woman said as they walked. “With any luck, this little clerical error will be resolved quickly enough, and you can head off to vocational with a bit of ‘real world experience’ on your back. Empress willing, wherever you get sent will let you skip some units as assumed learning.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She shook her head. “No need to thank me, private. Just doing what’s best for my crew – and for however long you’re here, you are part of my crew.”

Jason felt a faintly warm sensation blossom in his chest at that, and just as Tisi finished speaking, they emerged into what seemed to be the ship’s lounge area, which was already occupied by a good number of people.

“As are these seven misfits,” Tisi finished, somewhat wryly as she gestured to the seven people lounging around on various bits of moth-eaten furniture that had clearly seen better days. In a human navy you’d expect everyone to jump up at this point with a cry of ‘officer on deck’, but nothing in Jason’s training had suggested the Shil’vati had anything akin to a similar tradition.

It was a fairly diverse group. A grey furred Rakiri leaned against the wall at the back of the room, the werewolf-looking woman staring straight at Jason with an intensity Jason found more than a little disturbing. Though he wouldn’t deny that he was staring back. This was his first opportunity to really get a good look at a Rakiri in the flesh.

While he’d been mentally describing them as werewolves in his mind, he now realized the comparison wasn’t entirely apt. While the woman certainly stood on digitigrade legs and had features he would consider similar to a wolf in the form of long claws, fur and a tail, she lacked the same facial features. If anything, her features had more in common with a lioness’s than a wolf’s. Likewise, when one imagined a werewolf, it typically had an inconsistent covering of fur, with sparse patches around the chest and upper arms. By contrast, the Rakiri’s snow white fur was uniform, and had all the hallmarks of meticulous care in the way it shimmered in the ship’s lighting.

…None of that made her any less intimidating though. Even the obviously synthetic skin-tight shorts and tank top she wore did little to distract away from her semi-savage appearance.

Compared to the Rakiri, the other ‘alien’ in the room seemed positively suburban. A grey skinned woman who seemed dwarfed by Assisse in the seat next to her. The only thing to break up her light grey complexion were the black scales that ran up down her bare forearms. Surprisingly human looking, her features were arched as her glistening black eyes peeked out from between her long raven locks to stare back at him in a slightly appraising manner.

The other four women were all Shil’vati, and while they were staring too, it was less noticeable to him than the newcomers. He’d had all of basic to get used to gold flecked eyes staring at him after all. It was all old hat by now.

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“Wooh,” one of the purple alien’s cried, her short white hair bouncing about as she fairly vibrated in her seat. “It’s the guy! We’re officially not a clam-posse anymore.”

“And that’s Rocket on cleaning duty for the rest of the patrol,” Tisi deadpanned, leveling a fairly impressive glare at the woman, even as some of the other members of the crew chuckled quietly. Though whether they were laughing at the woman’s outburst, or subsequent punishment, Jason couldn’t tell.

“Worth it,” ‘Rocket’ whispered to an unimpressed looking Shil’vati next to her, the woman with a truly impressively large set of ears, swiping away the jokester’s proffered elbow.

“And the next one after that as well apparently,” Tisi continued.

At that, Rocket wisely shut up, shrinking back into her seat, even as the rest of the crew continued to chuckle. Which he supposed answered his question as to what they’d been laughing at initially.

Sighing, Tisi looked around. “Where’s Kernathu?”

“Down in the engine room, ma’am.” Long-Ears sat up in her seat dutifully. “Apparently the B-Crew ‘forgot’ to clean the intake valves until they were coming in to land.”

Tisi frowned, an expression shared by many other members of the crew at the announcement.

“I’ll send a message to Captain Hellens.” Tisi said, before belatedly adding, “again.”

From the way Assisse rolled her eyes from her spot next to the grey woman, Jason had a feeling that she wasn’t holding out hope for avoiding a repeat of this discussion.

“Oh well, you’ll get to meet her later anyway,” the Captain said, turning to him. “I’ll let those people who are present introduce themselves.”

Almost at once, a cacophony of noise erupted, most notably coming from Rocket, though the other members of the crew were certainly adding to it in their own ways. The only exception seemed to be Assisse who sat back with smug amusement.

Inwardly Jason was quailing as the cacophony continued. Not because of the noise, but because of the circumstances he found himself in. He hated things like this, primarily because he was almost entirely sure that he’d be forgetting every name mentioned here within five minutes of it being spoken.

“Starting from starboard!” Tisi shouted, shutting them all up at once.

Silence ebbed for a few moments before the grey skinned alien spoke up. “Well, it seems it falls to me to give our guest his first proper greeting.” The woman stood up, giving him a small bow. “My name is Aldair Jek-”

“Scales.”

The Aldair stopped in the middle of her introduction to glare at the interruptor. Assise for her part looked utterly unrepentant.

“Aldair J-” Aldair tried to say, only to be interrupted again.

“Scales.”

“Fine,” the woman sighed. “While I was born with a different name, our dear colleagues on the Whisker have seen fit to grant me the singularly unimaginative moniker, Scales.” She gave him a winning smile, revealing a number of fairly sharp looking teeth. “As the second member of our boarding pod, and the second marine on this ship, I look forward to working with you in future.”

Her bit said, the woman sat down again.

Eyes around the room shifted to Assisse, who just shrugged. “He’s already met me. Said everything worth saying.”

Tisi frowned a little, but let the conversation move on, turning her attention to a woman whose black uniform was odd in that it was flecked with white rather than the green of the rest of the naval personnel, yellow of the captain, or the pure black of the marines.

“My name is Cerilla. I am the resident medical technician aboard the Whisker. I look forward to working with you,” the woman said quickly and succinctly.

The next in line was Rocket, who practically jumped out of her seat. “I’m Kal’ya, but everyone calls me Rocket. I’m the shuttle pilot who… shuttles, you marines about the place. I look forward to us getting to know each other.”

She finished her last statement with a saucy wink that Jason found himself smiling at. Which had surprise, joy and then smugness all flashing across the wiry pilot’s features in quick succession.

The next to speak was the Shil’vati with the large ears, who despite her no-nonsense expression, seemed almost incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke.

“I’m Diavia, but most of the crew call me-”

“Glider!” Rocket crowed. “Because of her ears!”

“Yes. That.” Glider muttered, sending a venomous glance in her seatmate’s direction, before she took a breath and continued. “I’m the helmswoman for the Whisker, so you probably won’t see me much unless you’re on the bridge.”

Jason nodded, as the attention of the room slipped over to the last person in the room.

“I am Yaro,” the Rakiri said, inclining her head gracefully as she spoke in a soft and measured voice that seemed almost totally at odds with her appearance. “I control the fangs, ears and voice of the sky-ship, Whisker. I am grateful to have added one more to our number.”

Right, so she controlled the weapons and comms for the Whisker, Jason mentally translated, even if he was slightly thrown off by the fairly flowery diction from the large animalistic woman.

“Nice to meet you,” Jason responded, head already moving to bow before he’d even thought about it. Something about the woman’s regal tone and cadence had almost compelled him to do so. Which only seemed to amuse her, given the way the corners of her mouth twitched up just slightly.

Feeling a little sheepish at his action, Jason stood up straight once more.

“She goes by Hair-Ball by the way,” Assisse chimed in.

Jason glanced at the Rakiri to see her nodding along. “That is indeed the moniker my ship-pack has awarded to me. I wear it with pride.”

She might have, but Jason wasn’t entirely sure he could call her it.

Tisi interrupted the quiet moment by clapping her hands. “Alright, it’s done. You’ve all got to see the new guy. Now everyone get to your stations before we launch.”

As she spoke, everyone started clambering up with varying degrees of grumbling. Soon enough though, they were trailing out of the lounge and headed towards wherever their duty stations were. As Rocket jogged from the room, she favored him with a saucy wink that nearly had her careening into the door frame, before she rapidly corrected course.

…Jason wasn’t too sure about the fact that said woman was apparently the one who was supposed to shuttle him and the other marines about. Hopefully she was a little more serious behind the controls of a flyer.

He also belatedly realized that unlike Glider, she hadn’t mentioned why she was called Rocket. Which was a little ominous to his mind.

“Where am I headed, ma’am?” Jason asked Tisi as soon as everyone else had vacated the room.

She favored him with an indulgent look. “Well normally, you’d be down in engineering with Kernathu if you didn’t have any pending marine based duties, but in this case you’d probably do more harm than good without being given a proper primer.”

Jason privately disagreed, but knew better than to argue.

“I figure you can join me in the crash-seat up on the bridge. Get a proper view of what a ship entering Phase looks like.”

Jason didn’t have the heart to tell he’d already seen it on his trip over here.

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

“I’m gonna be sick,” Jason grunted, pulling his helmet off and letting it drop to the deck as he slumped against the ship’s bulkhead.

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Assisse said casually from behind him. “Your average sapient isn’t used to gravity switching constantly like this.”

She gestured to the weapon in his hand. “That’s why you’re carrying that. You make a mess and you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason glanced down at the mop he was somehow still holding onto.

“Right that’s enough of a break,” She said as she scooped up his helmet, and shoved it into his chest. “Put that back on and try not to throw up in it. I can promise you, the smell will never quite go away if you do.”

Jason gagged a little, but did as he was asked. Truth be told, the exercise itself wasn’t all that tiring. Move down a hallway. Check each room as he passed it. Use the method Assisse had shown him.

Slicing the cake was what she had called it. Where he swept his ‘weapon’ from one side of the room to the other while minimizing his own profile. Apparently, it would ensure that he never had too many potential threats directly in front of him at any given time.

It was a fairly slow process, truth be told, but one where he was constantly in motion. Which made just moving down a hallway a deceptively strenuous exercise. Still, he could have handled that without too much trouble - given that Assisse didn’t seem fully aware of the relative difference in stamina between a Shil’vati and a human - if it weren’t for the other factor in this little fun house exercise.

Just as he was finishing the third room in the set, Jason’s stomach lurched, and he desperately tried to reach for the controls on his wrist as gravity shifted and he became weightless. It was too late though, and he found himself floating down the hall, feet kicking ineffectually as he tried to anchor them to anything he could.

He failed, and continued to float like the world's saddest balloon down the ship’s hallway.

“Another failure, kid.” Assisse said from where she’d been ambling along behind him, her own feet securely magnetized to the deck.

Jason might have retorted, but he was too busy trying to keep his lunch down as he span through the air.

“You also missed me, human.” Scales stepped out of a room using the curious gait that magnetic boots required. “I was behind a console.”

“Right, so you also just got shot in the back,” Assisse hummed. “More importantly, you just got me shot in the back.”

That was the opening Jason had been waiting for. “If I just got you shot, wouldn’t I have a team with me when I do this?”

“Ideally, yes.” Assisse shrugged “In practice though… there’s only three of us. Sometimes that means people get injured or killed.”

Scales gave her friend a sardonic glance. “More often though, we have to split up to cover a ship faster when we’re working against a deadline. Merchant ships don’t like being pulled over for a ‘routine inspection’.”

Assisse rolled her eyes. “Yes, and while normally I’d tell them to blow chunks, they tend to complain to Gurathu’s governess when I do. Who in turn complains to the Admiral about lost trading opportunities. Who in turn complains to Tisi about possible budget cuts. Who in turn complains to me about being yelled at by the Admiral.”

The woman seemed perfectly laconic about it, but Jason could see just a subtle hint of irritation in her delivery. Of course, whatever sympathy he might have held for her position disintegrated as she smiled at him.

“Run it again!”

“No!” A voice squawked from Jason’s headset. “I’m invoking medical privileges. If the ship’s gravity shifts one more time for this insane exercise, I’m going to go insane.”

He took a moment to place the voice, before realizing it was Cerilla, assumably speaking from her position way down in medical.

Assisse sighed, putting a hand to her ear. “Kid’s got to learn.”

“As he should,” Cerilla huffed over the line, “from a trained professional. Not whatever… this is.”

Assisse actually looked a bit offended. “Hey, I’m working with what I’ve got here.”

“It is effectively the same thing they had Assise and I do during our Zero-G Ship Sweeping Program at Point Station.” Scales added, backing up her friend. “Just… simplified a little.”

Given that Jason was currently holding a mop, he had to wonder just how many levels of simplified this was.

“Whatever,” Cerilla stated. “I’m done. I don’t know about our newest private, but I’m about to lose my own lunch.”

“I would also appreciate an end to the training program,” Yaro piped in. “The constant shifts in the currents of the sky-ship have… most disrupted my inner energies.”

Assisse sighed, and Jason had a feeling she’d be stamping her foot if the magnetic boots she was wearing didn’t make that a more complicated proposition than it was worth.

“Captain?” she said finally.

Silence reigned down the line, and Jason could almost imagine the entire crew holding their breath. He knew he certainly was.

“Do what you have to do to get him up to speed,” Tisi’s voice announced, audible regret and not a little queasiness present in her voice. “We can all suffer a little motion-sickness if it means he’s halfway able to fulfill his duties when we reach the Fuel Point.”

Her words only served to make him feel guilty. Sure, it hadn’t been his decision to arrive here half-trained, but everyone was suffering as a result.

“Ok kid, you heard the boss,” Assisse said, sadistic amusement and vindication in her voice. “Run it again.”

…Never mind. He didn’t blame himself.

He blamed this monster…

Then gravity reasserted itself, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.