Jason finally stepped out of the admin building, still in his fatigues, but now officially ‘off the clock’.

Truth be told, he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that his new position was that of a glorified steward. And he was… fine with that. Another thing that surprised him. If this had been the younger version of himself, from before his experiences on Gurathu, he felt he’d have been quietly furious about the misallocation of his talents.

And at the fact that he still hadn’t gotten any vocational training. Which meant that despite his supposedly ‘lofty’ position, he was actually the least qualified soldier on the base. Something he’d brought up, and Cleff had summarily dismissed as unimportant.

It was almost enough to make a man miss the days of Tisi’s overbearing mothering.

Almost, he thought as he walked down the steps and into the evening heat.

“Come on, Kennings.” A voice called to his left. “This is our first chance to get off base in forever and you just want to chill in the hotel room? We’re on an alien planet, dude. Let’s get out there! See the sights!”

Glancing over, he wasn’t totally surprised to see a band of Human marines in their civvies making their way to the front gate. He was a little more surprised that they were all speaking in fluent, if heavily accented, Shil’vati.

“Don’t give me that shit! I just want to sleep.” A young man with an incredibly dark complexion and a vaguely Afrikaans accent was saying.

“Then do that on base.” His total opposite in complexion responded, the blonde-haired blue-eyed recruit gesticulated wildly as he spoke, his broad German accent clear to hear.

“On something soft.” The much more subdued recruit responded. “Not the glorified cardboard they dare to call mattresses out here. I got enough of that back home.”

“I hear that.” The final member of the trio said, the surprising Latina adjusting the strap of the small pack on her shoulder. “I never thought I’d miss anything about Basic, but at least the beds were decent there…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked up and realized that Jason was there, directly between them and the gate. The other two were quick to pick up on his presence too, and all three stopped in their tracks.

From his position, he could almost see the gears turning in their heads.

“Sir!” Blondie said, snapping off a salute – something the other two were quick to follow along in doing.

A little flat footed himself, but more amused than anything by the ramrod postures of his fellow Humans, he waved them down. “I’m not an officer, Private.”

Three arms came down with synchronized slaps against thighs and Jason couldn’t help a small smirk forming on his features as the trio paled, as if expecting him to bite their heads off for the mistake. Which wasn’t a totally incorrect assumption to have. He had a feeling some Sergeants lived for moments like that.

The sight did make him realize something though. Just how young all three of them were.

Baby-faces, he realized, thinking back to Friska’s earlier words.

Was this what she had meant? He hadn’t been able to tell from up on stage, but now he was wondering if the rest of the Regiment’s rank and file were this young?

“How old are you, Private?” he asked.

“Uh, eighteen, Champion.”

“And you two?” he asked, inclining his head to the others.

The dark-skinned recruit shifted uncomfortably. “Eighteen, Champion.”

“Nineteen last week, Champion.” The Latina woman finished.

Jason nodded. That would have put them at about twelve or thirteen during the invasion. Those people for whom Imperial occupation was the ‘norm’.

“How are you enjoying the capital?” Jason relishing the chance to speak in English – before frowning a little as he stumbled over the words. Apparently he’d gotten a little rusty after not speaking it for more than a year.

There was also no response from the trio in front of him though, beyond a little awkward shifting in place.

“Apologies, Champion,” the blonde said eventually. “I, uh, don’t speak much English.”

The nods from the other two suggested the same.

Jason cocked his head. “You weren’t taught in school?”

Sure, it was a little arrogant of him to assume they knew it, but as he understood it, most nations that didn’t speak English learned it as a second language. Because it was the closest thing to a ‘shared’ language Earth had. To the point where, in a meeting between a Frenchman and a Brazilian, it could be assumed that they would converse in English.

The blonde just shrugged at his befuddlement, before seeming to realize what he’d just done and straightening up. “We started, but about halfway though it shifted to, well, Shil.”

Jason sighed. He should have expected that really.

Seems the Imperium is determined to have English replaced by Shil as Earth’s lingua franca, he thought.

Which only made sense - not just in terms of absorbing Humanity into the Imperium culturally. He had a feeling that the rest of the regiment was just as young and culturally varied as the trio in front of him. Any communications between them would be in Shil – which would make it a lot easier for their Shil’vati officers to keep an ear out for any signs of dissidence within the ranks.

Sure, he doubted that was even considered when the decision to make Shil a secondary subject in schools was floated, but he didn’t doubt it was a consideration when the Imperium decided to fill the Regimental roster. He couldn’t think of any other reason the average age of the troops he’d seen today was so low.

Suddenly feeling a lot more tired than he had just a few minutes ago, Jason sighed before waving a hand dismissively. “Alright, thanks for answering my questions, go enjoy your weekend.”

Given that he wasn’t an officer, they technically didn’t need a dismissal from him, but they took it nonetheless, the German spokesman of the group once more visibly resisting the urge to salute before the trio took off toward the gate.

Jason couldn’t help but feel a little old as he stared at their retreating backs.

Well, that was a bit of an anti-climax, he thought. His first meeting with Humans in over a year, and he found he had nothing to say.

He also belatedly realized that he probably should have warned them to be careful on thier first night out. It wasn’t something guys often thought about.

He knew he certainly hadn’t.

The Shil’vati played by different rules though...

“I find it a bit boring,” a voice said from behind him. “Smells a bit too.”

It was only a result of long practice dealing with Yaro that stopped him from jumping as he very deliberately turned to regard the speaker.

“Captain Friska, ma’am,” he said, throwing up a salute as he spotted the burly officer lurking in the shadows of the admin building.

“At ease.” The woman threw a casual salute back as she sauntered over.

Relaxing a bit, Jason stared up at her, trying not to focus on the way the setting sun was causing her tusk piercings to glint ominously. “You find what boring, ma’am?”

“Shil,” Friska said as she folded her arms, lifting her breasts fairly obviously in the process. “You asked how those recruits were enjoying it. I figured I’d inject my own opinion.”

Jason felt something click in his head. “You speak English?”

“Passably,” the woman responded – if with a horrifically heavy guttural accent. Like most Shil, it sounded like some bastard mixture of Russian and German.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“It was a required course in the lead up to the invasion of Earth.” The woman continued in English. “Well, for some of us. Others learned Mandaroon, Portugeese or one of the others.”

“Mandarin and Portuguese,” Jason corrected automatically.

The exo-pilot shrugged, as if to say ‘whatever’.

Which was fair enough. He knew Shil did have other languages, but they were considered outdated rural dialects only practiced by the Shil’vati equivalent of the Amish. And he could care less what those languages were called.

“So you were part of the invasion of Earth?”

“I was.” She nodded. “That an issue?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why it should be?”

“Even if that means I’ve killed Humans before?” she asked, not quite warily, but more morbidly curious.

She needn’t have been though, as he simply shrugged again. “I’ve killed Shil’vati before.”

Sure, the circumstances weren’t even close to the same, but the sentiment behind why it occurred for each of them was. Their jobs had put them into situations where it was kill or be killed. So they’d done what they had to do.

What they’d been trained to do.

…Or at least, that’s how my shrink described it, he thought. Don’t know if I totally believe that, but I’m willing to give his opinion some weight. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else.

“Funny.” Friska chuffed, a wide grin spreading across her features. “You’re not bad, Champion. Well, if it doesn’t bother you, how about you join me for a drink? You can tell me just how you dealt with that band of slaving marauders.”

Jason eyed the strange woman. “Wouldn’t that be fraternization?”

Sure, the Shil’vati didn’t exactly have rules about officers mingling with enlisted, but there was definitely a stigma against it. One that he’d been totally unaware of prior to him parting ways with Tisi and the Whisker.

The Shil’vati scoffed. “You’re hardly enlisted. You’re the Regimental Champion.”

Which is an enlisted role, he felt like saying. He didn’t though, because he had a feeling he still didn’t fully understand the role. There was some cultural element here that he was missing. Something that the incredibly dry briefing packet he’d been given on the subject hadn’t been able to convey.

He was about to respond when something rumbled against his thigh. Unclipping his data-pad, he saw that Kernathu had just sent him a message.

“So, how about it? I’m eager to hear about how a guy single handedly boards and captures a hostile ship?” Friska continued, even as he skimmed the text in front of him.

He glanced up at her. “Sorry, maybe another time.”

Even as he slid away his data-pad, he was a little worried about the woman’s response to his rejection. He knew from experience that Shil could get pushy – at which point little within the bounds of polite conversation could dissuade them.

And he wasn’t looking forward to pissing off an officer by being forced to be impolite in his rejection.

Though his worries turned out to be pointless, as the woman simply broke out into that same wide grin he was rapidly becoming familiar with. “Getting called home by your girls?”

“How do you know I’m even in a relationship?” he asked.

Technically, his ‘harem’ was a secret, given that he’d been on a number of ‘dates’ with Pernora in recent weeks. Sure, the former wouldn’t have precluded him from the latter, but Nobles could afford to be picky, and thus a male without too many other attachments was considered more desirable.

And given that news of his recent ‘break-up’ with the Countess was supposed to already be disseminating – in preparation for his replacement by new bait in Pernora’s scheme – he was supposed to be single and ready to mingle.

“Guy like you?” Friska smirked. “I don’t care what the gossip rags say, you’d have to have someone on the side while you were humoring that backwater bimbo. And that’s ignoring that you’re Human. Nah, I’d say you’ve already given into your impulses and let one or two other girls latch onto you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, unsure if he should be offended by that. Did she just imply I was some kind of lustful beast in rut?

“Still, if your girl – or girls – are calling you home for some fun, that doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun together tonight.” Friska continued, somewhat lasciviously. “Some girls might sweat at performing the suspension bridge, but I find it rather thrilling.”

Suspension… ah. One on the face, one on the groin. Suspension bridge, he thought. Is that like the equivalent of a Devil’s Threeway for Shil?

Despite his incredulity at the offer, Jason couldn’t deny he was a little intrigued. He hadn’t really thought on it - ok, that was a lie, he’d thought about it a lot - but the girls in his harem had been remarkably reluctant to share a bed. At least, specifically for sex. They had no issues whatsoever with sleeping together, just not in the biblical sense.

…Clearly that was not an issue Friska had.

“A little forward, don’t you think?” he asked.

The woman rolled her eyes, a noticeably Human affectation that he couldn’t but wonder if it was something she’d picked up during her time on Earth.

“I find forwardness helps with Human males.” She said, before leaning in. “Females, you have to treat like our males. Wine and dine.”

Implying she’d at least tried to score with both.

…And succeeded, if her grin is any indication, he thought as the woman’s light blue tongue darted out to swipe lasciviously across her surprisingly plush lips.

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” he said finally trying not to think on the erotic imagery the woman in front of him had just inspired.

Christ, he thought he’d been getting the hang of Shil’vati forwardness, but he was in no way prepared to deal with this woman that was somehow an unholy fusion of Rocket, Assisse, and Freyxh.

“Well, keep my offer in mind.” The grinning woman laughed as he didn’t quite run for the gate.

---------

Jason sighed in relief as he finally made it back to his shared apartment. Today had been draining, in more ways than one.

Which was why he nearly tripped over a package on his way to the living room. One of many such boxes, of various shapes and sizes strewn across the entryway.

“Hey, uh, Jason, what’s all this?” Kernathu asked from where she was tentatively shaking one of the smaller boxes, no doubt attempting to figure out the contents. Something Raisha was also doing with one of the larger containers, if a bit less delicately and with far more enthusiasm than the shy engineer. Last, but not least, Yaro was sniffing hers.

He had to stifle a chuckle at the scene, as his lovers looked for all the world like a bunch of kids trying to figure out what possible toys might be hidden inside the presents left under a tree at Christmas.

Christ, Christmas is coming up soon, he thought. Might actually have to start thinking about getting presents for them soon.

Well, for some of them. He figured that for one person present, he was covered for this year. And the next seven or so.

“No Tarcil?” he asked, deliberately ignoring the small pout of frustration his fellow engineer gave him as he sidestepped her question.

“He got called in for something this morning and hasn’t returned yet.” Raisha had lowered her box to speak, but hadn’t quite relinquished it.

A bunch of kids indeed, he thought as he noted the action, thought Yaro had quickly and quietly stepped away from her investigations as his amused gaze roamed over her. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the wolf-woman was embarrassed at her display of unabashed interest in the array of brown boxes.

“He was?” Jason asked, frowning.

Given that, as far as he was aware, Tarcil had no other acquaintances on Shil other than the people present, it was fair to assume that the smaller male had been called away for something work related.

Which means Tarcil’s leave might end up being cut short, Jason thought.

A sad but all too real reality of military service was that the military didn’t really give a damn about you or your other commitments. If the higher ups wanted you to be somewhere, you were going there, any personal plans you might have made be damned.

Annoying, but that was life. Nothing could be done about it.

This on the other hand, he thought eyes roaming over the horde of boxes stacked haphazardly around the room. He could definitely do something about that.

They were supposed to deliver it to the Aviary, he thought irritatedly. Not just dump it at the house.

Looking around, his eyes quickly landed on where the shipping manifest was precariously balanced on a bundle of boxes. Picking up the sheet of watermarked paper he scanned through the text.

Then he sighed.

Someone was going to get a very angry email about this. He’d filled out the paperwork for this delivery weeks ago, with both the delivery company and the Aviary itself. Everything was set. But according to the sheet in front of him, security at the academy had denied the van entry.

At which point, rather than return to the warehouse to get it sorted, the delivery crew in a stroke of unblemished genius decided to dump it all at the backup address listed on file.

This apartment.

“If Tarcil wasn’t home, who signed for this?” he asked.

No company would be careless enough to deliver this stuff without a…

“I did,” Raisha said happily, once more shaking her box. “They said it was for you.”

Of course, he thought.

“Quit holding us in suspense, Jason!” Kernathu finally burst out, the quiet engineer tired of being passively ignored. “What is all this!?”

He could only grin at the put-upon expression of the small engineer, or the blatantly curious and less obviously curious gazes of Raisha and Yaro respectively.

“Parts,” he said finally.

Yaro leaned in. “For what?”

He simply inclined his head in Kernathu’s direction. “Her new exo.”