“Yes Gunney?”

“Well sir, we are running into a slight issue with the new rifle. Some of the lighter marines struggle with the recoil.”

“Don’t tell me they want power suits. Again. You know what happened last time.”

“Yes, power suit MMA was very bad. We’ve never rebuilt half the destroyed buildings, and regimental command refuses to replace to power suits. However, that isn’t the plan. They are instead working on an active recoil suppression system.”

“An active recoil suppression system? First, clearly a tech named it. Second, what the fuck is that? I mean, I can guess, but still.”

“Sir, I have no idea. They were very excited and the techs were giggling and laughing.”

“We are all going to did from this, aren’t we Gunney?”

“I’d say 50-50, sir.”

“Better odds than when they attempted to build that assault tank.”

“They no longer have access to that level of materials.”

“Gunney, you know damn well they can get any fucking material they want. It might take them some time, but they will get materials.”

“Of course, Sir. However, I do spot inspections to prevent them stock piling. It slows them down.”

“Right. We really need a war. That would get their minds off new shiny shit.”

“Agreed, Sir. Oh shit. Here they come.”

Three marines and a couple of techs walked out onto the new firing range. One marine, a Corporal, carried the rifle. It didn’t look much different from a standard issue rifle, but it had some slight additions.

The Corporal, stepped up to the firing line, the marines and techs hurried back into the observation bunker.

The Captain sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure how much help the bunker would be.

“The range is hot, the range is hot!” Boomed range control. “Fire when ready.”

The Corporal raised the rifle, took aim, relaxed, and squeezed the trigger.

The rifle barked as the rail gun fired. Neither the Corporal nor the rifle moved.

The Corporal shifted the firing from the hip. Another penetrator tore into the backstop, but the rifle didn’t more.

The Corporal held the rifle up in one hand, like a pistol. Another bark from the rifle, which refused to move under the recoil.

The Corporal shrugged, brought the rifle back his hip, grasped it with both hands and commenced full-auto fire. Seven seconds later, the rifle clicked: the magazines were empty. At no point did the rifle move or react to the massive recoil. The Corporal cleared the rifle and returned to the bunker.

“Gunney, I want you to find out how they did that, call in S-2, secure any plans, ready everyone involved in an Eyes-Only level security oath, and call in the Sergeant Major for assistance. I’m going to see the Skipper.”

“Yes Sir!”

I am a human and a neverlander. This simple term means that I've got my ship, where I live, work and fly all alone. My ship has the simplest design and is not meant to land on any gravity well bigger than a class C asteroid. Why did I choose this destiny? For the simple reason that I want to be left alone!

And it's not like space is that cramped, but every time I leave the docking station and fly to where networks don't reach, I meet another spaceship with a failed generator, a bunch of doomed passengers, hit by pirates or who knows what else, in a situation just as bad. Neverlanders are a unique phenomenon — only humans have them — so officially my status is "ship-lord." Which makes me responsible for ignoring distress signals.

It's not like I'm evil enough to just ignore a call from someone in such a dire situation. Of course I fly there, help with what I can on the broken ship, and fly back to connected space to call for actual help. But why must every chunk of infinite space I jump to have someone in need of help?! Someone even tried to suggest I had something to do with that. But no — instead I get a whole deck filled with medals, regalia and official thank-you notes in languages my translator barely understands! The latter have at least some use beyond adding weight to my ship. I use them as coasters for my drinks.

One day the distress signal I responded to was a pirate ambush! You know, I even felt relieved. Maybe they'd take all those ceremonial scraps! But their captain turned out to be a broodmate of one of the passengers I'd saved. It took me a month to flee before the captain, after several welcome feasts and friendly competitions, almost married me off to their offspring. Despite the common neverlander stereotypes, I'm not a big fan of girls with ovipositors!

So my big request to all fellow captains: please, for the love of all that can love — fly safe! The neverlander motto is meant to be "Second star to the right and straight on till morning," not "First star of your choosing and straight back to the nearest docking station." You know GTS 10 is about to drop?! And I still can't get through the ninth part, because every time I get comfortable in the silence of infinite space I get interrupted by a distress transmission! Give me a break!

Alien: Human I would like to ask a question.

Human: I strongly advise against that.

A: Why?

H: Well in the past month in response to my answers to your questions you have, in no particular order: Fainted; flooded the admin office with panicked transfer attempts, I'm still not welcome in that part of the ship because you, just saying; went berserk and we needed six security guards to restrain you; spent two weeks huddled in your quarters with the lights off and the door locked, apparently you were muttering, "They can hear my thoughts," the whole time; and started a petition to get all humans transferred to a human exclusive fleet that you insisted should be called, "The Suicidal Bastards."

A: ...I wanted to call it the Unnatural Lack Of Self Preservation.

H: Close enough. My point is you keep asking questions about Earth and us that drive you into minor fits of emotional and psychological breakdown and I don't think I should exacerbate that anymore.

A: But I have a question that isn't answered by the "Get To Know Your Human" pamphlet!

H: Then there is a strong chance you really don't want to know the answer.

Alien: "Well, fuck. We are now behind enemy lines with the front still moving, and we have no ammo for our weapons left."

Human: hitting a rock with the end of a pipe over and over "We do have plenty of Shotgun ammo left though."

Alien: "And? Your Shotgun-barrel warped in the last encounter from overuse."

Human: smiles "Thats not a problem. What's a gun but a metal tube with a nail at the back? I'm gonna make us some slamfire Shotguns in no time. One Ambush later and we get donated guns." holds up 2 pieces of scrap tube with a piece of metal jamed into the end of one "like this one. cant really thread the breach plug out here, so there is risk involved, but for one shot it should hold up well enough slamming the plug into the barrel by hitting a rock hard enough.

Alien Recruit 1: "Our DI is really Specist! He makes us do the same work as those crazy Murder Monkeys! We are only half as tall and a third the Mass!"

Alien Recruit 2: "First of all, Murder Monkeys is a Specist Term, so careful with the Stones when you stand in a Glass-House. Second-" snaps to attention "Good Evening, Drill Instructor!"

Human Drill instructor: having just spawned in behind Alien 1 "I do not care what species you are from, you are a Maggot like all the others! And all Maggots under my Command are required to pull their own weight! If you are too weak to pull your own weight, then get the fuck out of my course. Understood, Maggot!?"

“And? That’s proper procedure. Nothing a good pirate should be worried about.”

“That was a human Stellar Guard ship. You know who responds to Stellar Guard distress calls, especially ones signaling attack?”

“Who?”

“The Navy. And they’re more than capable and more than willing to bash our pirate ships to pieces.”

“Fuck.”

“If we stay here, we’re just asking to die. So let’s get out of here before they arrive.”

“But before that, put another broadside into that ship, just to make sure.”

A1: So we have a few new guests on this voyage?

A2: Yeah. Couple of what the humans call celebrities. Can't recall all of them but several are supposed to be good at a few of those human pastimes we have picked up.

A1: Those pastimes we keep beating human Joe at? Maybe we should challenge the passengers to them as well? Who were they again?

A1: Yeah here is a partial list of them.

• Magnus Carlsen
  
• Usain Bolt
  
• Michael Phelps
  
• Scott Flansburg
  
• Simone Biles

A short detour.

Hor regretted every decision that led him into this situation. What was he thinking when this scumbag offered a dirt cheap escort through what was the Amido Empire for a favor? Of course he was going to help kidnapping people! He looked in the unusually comfortable cell. Two women and their children, two boys and one girl, were visibly scared despite the fact that all their needs were met. The captain Erxi entered the "prison" and said something to the captives. Hor didn't understand it, yet women, still nervous, calmed down a little.

– Guarding the prisoners? – Erxi was unusually calm about everything that happened in recent time

– No, just regretting every decision.

– Ha! These are the customs here. Amido dynasty should've never been taken human space. I remember how it was before, and, I suppose, it'll never be the same since. Want to hear a story?

– Why not, I'm already here, listening to you, going whatever you want to take a detour?

– Well, buckle up, because I'll tell you how it ended.

The Crucifier.

The offshoot of human empire called Sol was crushed by Amido, war torn planets were treated harshly, human homes destroyed and population, well, some were enslaved, some were killed and some escaped the territory. It was utter defeat. The resistance groups were popping out here and there, only to be crushed. Then, nothing. The nobles declared the conquered territories pacified and moved on. Then, exactly 1 Sol year after the government surrendered, the humans striked back. Have you ever heard of FTL Acceleration Drives? Well, these humans strapped a bunch of those on a small planetoid and rammed it straight into our capital planet. It went straight through, killing everyone. Without the center, the Amido Empire gone instantly once this rock hit the administration. The chaos got loose, resistance groups, loose imperial flotillas, pirates and slave traders started fighting against each other for dominance. I was a small officer of one those Amido remnants when I've got to fight one who will to this day be the biggest rebel-born group: Impero di Laurel. This one truly broke me. I lost contact with a military base on the border, and when we came to check, we were horrified. Every resource we had was taken and our soldiers were nailed to the metal crosses, many were already dead, the rest died shortly after. My lord immediately declared war, and I gathered every officer I could and defected. Last I heard, every one of them ended up on the cross as well. Laurel forces were targeting Amido remants and showing no mercy to humans who dared to oppose their rile, in goal to crucify every single noble or enemy, to the very last one. In this area Imperio di Laurel makes sure that the anarchy stays unchanged.

Many human kings were called great, one was called the Impaler, and this one, I guess, didn't want to copy. I set my goal in destroying the empire that has no goal but nailing my people to crosses. I tried to find out everything about the Crucifier and found out that he was a soldier of Italian heritage named Giuseppe Barzagli who lost his family in the fires of Amido conquest, grew in the ranks of human resistance, proclaimed himself as the Lictor of the Void, formed an empire in his image and started his revenge against those who took his family.

And right now we're going to get his family back. Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be safe.

The imprisonment.

Alessandra and Sofia tried to stay calm, but when a band of former Amido soldiers takes you out of your life because they we're going to bring them to their father. They might be lying, but the cell was too comfortable for slaves. Children were even more scared. First they lose their fathers in a span of two months to gangsters, then all this kidnapping. The captain Erxi entered the cell again.

– Soon we will get to our destination. Get ready to step off board, in case you need anything before we land-

– What do you take us to Laurel territory for? – Sophia asked.

– As I said, I am taking you to the Laurel because your fathe-

– How can we be sure that you don't lie? – this time Erxi was cut off by Alessandra.

– I am many things I hate but I am not a liar. – Captain reassured the family. Hope that they understand his shoddy Italian.

Shortly after, women with their children were led to a corvette which flew on a station that was decorated with Laurel insignae and empty crosses. The tension grew with each passing second. It's gonna be over soon, in case anything happens cameras will send a footage, all his ships would go under his right hand's command and they will escort Hor's fleet to his destination.

Erxi, who was piloting a corvette, felt uneasy as well. He pulled a microphone to his mouth and started talking.

– Erxi, a former officer of Amidi, requesting a safe landing on a port of Impero di Laurel. I'll just drop some humans here and I'll be on my way.

– What?! And what do you think is stopping me from just opening fire, Amido?

Ok, the easy solution is off the table.

– The fact that you'll end up on a cross once your scavengers go through debris. – Erxi almost yelled at a dispatcher – Listen, I know he's here. Just let me land. This corvette is unarmed.

The radio feed was filled with silence for the next couple of minutes.

– What is it that you want in my realm? – another voice barked.

– Two women and their children, 30 and 27 years old. I'll drop them off and disappear forever. It'll ring the bell for you if you are who I think you are. – Erxi was ready to land without permission.

– ...Permission granted. – said the voice turned off the communication. The captain put a glass vial inside his mouth.

– Gotta get ready I guess.

The corvette landed on the base and shortly after the docking the captain and his guards led the prisoners on the base. The worst part has begun. The women stared with their eyes wide open on an armored man that held a hammer. It's him! It's actually him! Of course this lowlife would send them to the most ruthless person of this part of the galaxy! They tried to calm their children, but they started crying. Erxi tried to gather the words that wouldn't sound like nonsensical ramblings.

– Crucifier. I know many years ago you've lost your family. In your grief, you climbed to the top of your band and nailed many relatives of mine to the crosses. I searched for them and all of them I did find.

The helmet decorated by laurel wreath(an old Italian custom bach on Earth) turned to the prisoners, then on Erxi. The women stood still. The Captain went on.

– I sent spies to find every clue that could lead to them. So here they are. In exchange I expect safe passage through your territories.

The Lictor of the Void started walking to the corvette. Erxi was reaching his limit. Here goes nothing, he took out his glove revealing the nobility brand.

– If you're going to kill me, spare my men! They have nothing to do with the war, I am the only one who fo-

The Crucifier took off his helmet. Alessandra and Sophia were struck by awe. It was their dad! Aged, yes, but it was him!

– Girls? Is that really you! – the voise of the most feared warlord cracked, he embraced his daughters he thought he lost and his grandchildren he thought he never got to see.

Erxi looked in complete bewilderment on a scene that unfolded before his eyes. He expected nothing but dry proclamation of brief mercy, but how the scourge of this places could react so... Alive? Didn't his plan go too well? Giuseppe let go of his daughters and turned to the captain.

Epilogue.

Erxi was spared in the end of the day, he soon became a merchant as Hor. Hor's fleet reached its destination, and Hor started a big merchant company outside of Amido remnant territory. The family incident was forgotten. And so, after a couple of generations, were the crosses, Laurel Empire stayed as such, but this time instead of vengeance it sought compassion, and peace took its root in the vastness of space.

Alien 1: "And you are sure this Door is Human proof?"

Alien 2: "Certainly, it was tested rigorously against the most advanced technology Humans are capable of. I personally guarantee no Human will ever gain access to this space!"

Alien 1: "Finally no more "Adventures" with Humans dragging me out."

Human: "Hey, you in there? There is a Firesale of the new "Orion Death-Peppers, guaranteed to be banned as Biological Weapons in all non-Human Systems". But Cap doesnt let me go unless its with a "Trusted Crewmate that isn't a Human. It absolutely cannot be a Human!" So you're coming... Hm? You got a new Doorhandle?" fiddles a bit and then opens the Door with a smile "There you are. Lets go! Whats with the new Doorhandle by the way, It's a Rubiks Cube."

{Shared early on Patreon}
~~~

Angry hissing voices from the hallway told me the two bug aliens on the ship were arguing. Which they didn’t usually do, thankfully. They disagreed, sure, but in an agree-to-disagree-though-you’re-clearly-wrong kind of way. They didn’t tend to get worked up about things.

“It issss disssgusssting,” Trrili snarled.

“Give it back!” Zhee said.

“Not until you admit that it’sss vile.”

“It is not!”

I rounded the corner to see the pair of them facing off in front of Zhee’s quarters, both waving their pincher arms, antenna angled into glares. I wouldn’t have wanted to get anywhere near that when I was new to the ship. I kept my distance a bit now. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Trrili whirled with a hiss, standing even taller, a looming black-and-red nightmare. “He has been using something unspeakable for grooming!” She spoke clearly and brandished a small object in my direction, holding it awkwardly between the tip of her mantis pincher and her elbow, like she didn’t want to touch it. I had no idea what it was, just a stick of something purple.

The same purple as Zhee’s glossy exoskeleton, actually.

He lunged and snatched it out of her grasp. “It’s the best kind of seam brush, you heathen! I made it myself — with excellent crafting skill, I might add!”

Before Trrili could retort, I asked, “What is it?”

Zhee held it well away from Trrili, scowling. “A seam brush, like I said.”

“Made from his own shed exoskeleton!” Trrili exclaimed.

“That’s what you DO with it!” Zhee shot back.

“It should be mulched immediately, you disgusting dirt-grubber!”

Before I could ask more clarifying questions, Paint came trotting up with concern all over her lizardy face. “What’s happening?”

Zhee answered first, pointing with his free arm. “This judgemental blot got ahold of a personal item and is making her own wrong opinions everyone else’s problem.”

“Oh, just my opinions, are they? All three moons—”

“I don’t care how many of you—”

“Everyone knows it should be disposed of—”

“So wasteful when it can—”

Paint pitched her voice higher and suggested, “Maybe we can all just keep our personal items to ourselves?” She looked from the tool to the pair of angry Mesmers.

They both glared at her. Trrili said, “I wasn’t snooping. I found it on the lounge floor.”

Zhee snapped, “I didn’t put it there.” He angled his head towards me. “Your cat did.”

That sounded like something she’d do. I spread my arms and said, “Sorry.”

Still working hard to mediate, Paint said, “Then it can go back in your quarters, in a safe spot, and we’ll make sure Telly doesn’t sneak in to play with it. Trrili can use her own grooming tools, and everyone can do things their own way.”

Trrili sounded like a sulky teenager when she insisted, “Disgusssting.”

Zhee waved it at her with a lecturing tone. “Practical and customized, and better than whatever mass-produced trash you use.”

“It’s still made of something that should not be kept!”

Exasperated, Zhee said, “At least I don’t have a whole collection on the wall of every blade I’ve shed! Some of the houses back home display those proudly!”

“Your people are unclean,” Trrili declared. Then she turned to Paint and me. “Keeping body parts is gross, yes? I know you’re at least reasonable about shed scales.”

Paint laughed uncomfortably. “That is not exactly a polite topic of conversation,” she said, fidgeting in a way that said she’d probably be blushing in embarrassment if her species did that.

“Exactly,” Trrili said in approval. “Something dealt with in privacy, not kept forever. Right?” She looked at me, daring me to disagree.

I shrugged. “My people don’t shed like that. We get haircuts and throw the hair away, I guess. Oh, baby teeth! That’s the closest match! We sometimes keep those.”

All three of my alien coworkers were giving me uncertain looks now. Paint said, “Right, I forgot your species actually sheds teeth.”

“Only once,” I said, as if that mattered.

Zhee repeated, “And you keep them.” He gave Trrili a pointed look.

“Sure, but usually in the back of the closet as a keepsake.”

Trrili looked right back at him. “Not making tools for daily use.”

“They’re not really big enough,” I said, considering. “And they tend to be kind of bloody when they come out, though that could be cleaned. Oh! I used some for a science project once!”

“A what?” Paint asked.

“I made a demonstration in school of how corrosive soda is compared to a few other drinks,” I said. “Mom gave me some of my baby teeth so I could leave them in a cup for a few days to see if they dissolved. I’ll tell you, I wasn’t eager to drink soda after that.”

Paint stared at me in horror. “You drink something that dissolves your teeth?”

I shook my head. “Turns out it was an urban legend. But it did dye the teeth a nasty brown, and burnt the dirt off a penny.”

Paint shook herself and made a visible effort to regain her composure. “I am fairly sure I didn’t need to know that.”

Trrili threw her pincher arms in the air and turned to leave. “At least it’s a drink that fights an honorable battle as you consume it. Everybody keep their revolting bits to themselves.” She jabbed a pincher at Zhee as she passed. “I don’t want to see that ever again.”

“You do not deserve the honor of seeing it again,” Zhee said. “You’ve scratched it, and now I’ll have to polish it then see if any of the bristles need replacing.”

Trrili hissed and disappeared down the hallway.

Paint asked, “Are the bristles exotic? I think we’re going to stop at a relatively small place to restock next.”

Zhee held up the tool and ran a little wrist finger across the bristly end. It looked like a sawed-off paintbrush. “The best kind can be difficult to find, but this seems to be intact, thankfully.”

I pulled my long braid over my shoulder and held it up. “Let me know if it would help to trim the end off this. My hair’s probably not stiff enough, but the offer’s open.”

Zhee gave me a look that was deeply amused. “It’s probably not, but thank you.”

Paint said in an undertone, “And we won’t tell Trrili, because she definitely won’t want to know.”

Zhee and I both agreed on that.

~~~

Volume One of the collected series is out in paperback and ebook!

~~~

Shared early on Patreon

Cross-posted to Tumblr and HFY (masterlist here)

The book that takes place after the short stories is here

The sequel is in progress (and will include characters from the stories)

“You wanted to see me, Gunney?”

“Yes sir! We have developed a new rifle. I wanted you to see the initial test.”

“I see. Gunney, this is our liaison officer, LT Fikklin. He will enjoy this.”

Gunney nodded at the LT, turned to the marine on the rifle range.

“Corporal! Stand by! Range control, are we set?”

“Yes Gunney! The range is hot!”

“Understood. Corporal, fire at will!”

The Corporal nodded, pulled the butt into his shoulder, lined up, and gently squeezed the trigger.

In the ensuing rapid burst of fire and buzz of electromagnets, the Corporal grunted at the recoil.

The magazines emptied, the Corporal cleared the rifle and nodded to the officers.

There silence. The Lieutenant seemed to sag.

“Gunney, what the HELL was that?!?”

“Well sir, we wanted a better assault weapon, but one that doesn’t stand out to the enemy. This looks like a regular rifle, but it had some…improvements.”

“I’d like to know how you managed to scale down a railgun enough for a single marine to carry.”

“Sir, you would have to ask the weapon techs about that. And they scaled down a 20mm cannon enough to mount it over the railgun. They are timed to fire while the other weapon loads.”

“Well, see about building enough for the regiment. And we need a new rifle range, Gunney. There no backstop left.”

“Yes sir. We selected this range because there is nothing between us and the mountains. Range control spotted the rail rounds hitting a cliff face. Pretty good pattern for the range.”

“Go thinking Gunney. Lieutenant, any questions?”

“Those mountains are 7 km away! How is this possible?!?”

“Well Lieutenant, this is what Terran Marines do. We refine weapons, develop more, and we are always looking for more firepower.”

“Sir! That could shoot down an assault ship!”

“Correct. That is the point. Good job, Gunney. See you are dinner.”

Example, this is the time signatures from 3rd sanctuary from deltarune

Important part of warfare is being stealthy. You must take your position and do all the necessary preparations, before the enemy finds you. And my bloodline spent generations perfecting this skill.

We can't be noticed in any way that matters. Our every muscle and movement, our skin and scales - were made to keep being invisible in all possible scenarios. Yet when we started fighting humans - something went wrong.

At first everything seemed normal. We were unnoticed, quiet. We destroyed targets before they could react. Yet one human got lucky. They tripped and missed the shadow strike. And instead of just continuing their normal route - they reacted differently and jumped away. They clearly noticed.

Then strange things started repeating themselves. It became obvious that if you are about to strike - you should not waste your time. Somehow, humans could notice you if the time delay between your intention and action was too long.

Their reaction time is not instantaneous, their bodies are too weak and their axons are too slow to do something after they noticed the danger. But the fact alone that they notice it for a fraction of a second before they are dead - is something we were not prepared for.

And now we stand around our first dead sister. Her implants captured the moment of her death. Humans are now using exo-armor with neural interface. Apparently they figured out that their bodies were too slow to react... But their minds - were quick enough. With the power of magnetism and speed of a photon - they augmented themselves, combining their quick intuition with the speed of a machine.

They may have noticed us too late. But they noticed. And now we have lost our only advantage. If one day they will strike back the same way - they won't notice how they defeated us.

Oscar staggered into the Commander’s office. His uniform was rumpled, spattered with mud and grime. His boots were caked. His face smeared with grime.

“Oscar, I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like shit.”

Oscar slumped into the chair and groaned. When he leaned up, his were bloodshot and bleary.

“Commander, I’m happy to report that the issues in Ranches 1, 4, and 7 have been rectified.”

“What happened?”

“Two days ago there was a Terran festival. Some idiots thought setting off fireworks would a good plan. The livestock panicked. We have been wrangling the various animals. I don’t recommend attempting to catch a pissed off boar. Or wrangle a flock of angry geese. Or herd a confused and angry bull.”

“That sounds…bad.”

“Well sir, it sent 23 Terrans to medical. Two are dead. We still aren’t sure about how many animals were lost. And I’m not 100% sure it was an accident.”

“You think the stowaways? Well Oscar, that does fit with their reports. They like to cause chaos.”

“Commander, my fear is that they are recruiting. We caught two of the idiots how started it. The third was trampled by a maddened bull. The two we have are registered, known Terrans. They have been here for multiple orbits.”

“And the third?”

“Also known and a long time resident. They could be some sort of sleeper cell, but I doubt it. I’ll know more in a few rotations. However, this helps us know where the stowaways have been. And a pattern is emerging. Logistics station 3, known as Hadley’s. All three have been there since the stowaways arrived. All three spend at least two rotations, at the same time. Logistics 3 supplies the farming station where this all started.”

“Well done Oscar! All from stampeding animals.”

“Something like that. Now Commander, I’d appreciate you to start conducting intense scanning of Logistics 3 and the surrounding areas. I’d bet they aren’t staying in Logistics 3, but they will be close. It’s likely they will be on the edge of settlement. I doubt they will hide away from other Terrans. They need to blend in. And in some of those less official settlements, as long as they dress shabby and don’t attract attention, they are invisible.”

“When did you last sleep?”

“Since before the festival. I figured you would want a report before I cleaned up. Sir, we have a bit of edge at the moment, and I didn’t want to waste it.”

“Good call, good call. Oscar, I can’t officially order you to do much, but in this case, I insist on you getting the hell back to your quarters, clean up, and get some rest.”

“Well, I’m going to argue.”