“Subtlety and precision my metal ass,” Front Toward Enemy grumbles as the last watermelon topples from its arm-blades in an ungainly dive towards its smashed brethren littering the hangar floor. “I am an infiltration unit and my limbs are capable of lidar-assisted sub-millimeter adjustments.” It looks around with a defeated shrug. “Perhaps I lack panache, then. Or perhaps I need an actual Turai sword. The actuators in my own blades might be throwing off the surface area, yes, that’s it.”

The Sheen dials in on this potential equipment failure with an interest borne of self-deception. “Sword first, then see if there are any more farmer’s markets in the area.”

Later on, Front Toward Enemy uses its new Turai sword to carefully open the package it was waiting for. Inside, a grotesque, pallid yellow torso and head made from ballistic gelatin stares blankly at the Sheen. Flies scatter angrily as it hefts the ungainly weight from the packing material and sets it in the ruined fruit, a macabre testament to Front Toward Enemy’s stubbornness.

“All right, recalibrating for wind speed, adjusting for micro-nicks along the blade, I’ve got the prediction models running from Aikoro recordings and my test data. First try, I got this.” It pauses, simulated nerves quivering with anticipation. Front Toward Enemy swings and its sword slices cleanly through plastic vertebrae, neatly separating dummy head from torso. The head wobbles on the outstretched blade, its dull expression unmoved by the display of martial supremacy. The wobbling increases and Front Toward Enemy’s split-second of victory is snatched away by gravity. The very expensive head falls and cracks on the concrete hangar floor with a thud of finality.

“I am not giving up,” FTE says to itself as it gives up. “I am simply prioritizing a more efficient use of my resources. Time to clean this up.” Hoim’s grisly decapitation trick eluded the Sheen, and it left a few subcycles dedicated to the conundrum while it went about restoring the hangar bay to its original condition. The sun was low by the time FTE was done, but it had arrived at a consensus of sorts. It would have to figure out its own flourish rather than mindlessly copy Hoim’s technique. Now all it needed was a new mission.

“I’m so bored,” FTE thought five seconds later.
"I heard you were making a mess of my hangar, Sheen," Brinai calls out from the airlock as it slides open.
“If I knew you were coming I would have saved some fruit salad for you,” it replies. “What brings you here, Brinai?”
"You," Brinai replies. "I have a request to make of you. There is a meeting coming up with some of our allies, and it has been advised that I should include you among the security team. But it seems that you have…other projects, and so I will not waste your time."
Front Toward Enemy’s sensorium actuators betray a hint of fear. Not fear that it had other clandestine projects, which it didn’t, but rather a shock of panic that Brinai would refuse it an opportunity to stay busy lest it have to sit and deal with the fact that without a mission, FTE had… nothing.
“No, it’s all right, it was just an… experiment,” FTE counters. “I do not have a priority assignment and would be happy to assist you. Mark that sucker on my quest log.”
Brinai snapped her shawl and mostly suppressed a scowl. FTE doesn't need to access the repo on interpretation of human physical responses to know that Brinai was hoping it'd say no. "Well, the representative of the local Quratsa'i will be here in 12 hours. Be at the hangars in Sipunia Ward to meet with the security team and try to look human."
Front Toward Enemy considers saying something about how wearing human skin hasn’t historically been an effective disguise, but settles for nodding. It was getting better at this interaction stuff.

---

FTE, already being in their most human-normal looking shell of Turai armor look-alike, simply proceeded to the arrival/departure hall at the Sipunia Ward hangars. Upon arrival, the most inconspicuous thing seemed to be simply standing at a logical-seeming place for a Turai standing guard to be, and well, stand guard.

Six hours later, a human walked up to him. “And you must be the Sheen,” he said.
The Sheen’s shoulders slump a little. “What gave it away?”
“The fact that you have stood motionless for the last two hours that I’ve seen,” the human said. “Name’s Tanis Akoth. Brinai said she was sending the Sheen 815 member as a bodyguard. You got a name?”
FTE makes a note to work on an idle cycle, then responds, “Front Toward Enemy. You’re here early too - how’s the people watching been from your spot?”
“Oh, no, that’s just the report I got from the ward Kansat, they’ve been watching you on the sconces for hours,” Tanis says, waving up at a sconce in the corner. “I’m not expecting much in the way of trouble, just be aware that the Quartsa’i are…twitchy around new people.”
FTE nods. “Good thing I’m not a person. Although it’s funny, the Quratsa’i are spacers, aren’t they? You’d think the Sheen would be in a good position to help them more, what with being infinitely adaptable to different environments and all.”
“Something about the possibility of Sheen taking over their homes and turning off the oxygen to their families and kids freaks them out, I guess,” Tanis replies. “Everyone’s heard the stories from the Sheen Wars.”
“That was before my time, but I get your point,” Front Toward Enemy says. “Don’t bring up war crimes that happened way before any of these people were born?”
"You got it," Tanis says. "Aside from that, you're just here to keep things calm. They know they're in our space."
“Brinai didn’t give me many details,” FTE adds. “Anything besides jumpy spacers and the usual diplomatic gaffes I should know about?”
“They’re not going to trust you,” Tanis says. “Not because you’re Sheen - nice shell, by the way - but because they don’t trust anyone that’s not family. But you don’t need them to trust you, that’s my job. They buy food and other things they can’t get from us, anything that requires actually having a planetside presence, we buy salvage and ships from them. They’ve been on edge with us recently, making noise about us ‘not being trustworthy’, we think they’re just feeling left out because of all the progress we’ve made. They’re coming here to sell us a salvaged airdock, something we can actually refit and maintain these Needleships in. It’s a rare thing, and they know it, and they’re gonna be twitchy, thus you.”
“Thanks. I suppose we wait then, and be cool.”

“Be cool” is about all there’s opportunity to do, as 23.44 minutes later (approximately) by FTE’s count, a call gets sent in from Sipunia Ward docking control that the Quaratsa’i ship is in-system and twenty minutes out. Tanis leads the way over to the docking bay in particular, and wait in the airlock (again, more waiting) for the Quaratsa’i vessel to park and the docking bay air to cycle. The airlock opens to reveal the Quaratsa’i contingent walking down the steps from their ship. They’re clad in blue and red wraps over their skinsuits, loose enough to doubtlessly conceal weapons underneath.

“Welcome back to Atea,” Tanis says with a bow. “It’s been a while, Kokoi.”
“Yes, it has,” the woman at the head of the group says. She looks at FTE. “And who is this Turai?”
“Front Toward Enemy, ma’am,” the Sheen replies. It mimics Tanis’ bow after an awkward moment. “I’m with security.”
Tanis winces as Kokoi cocks her head to one side. “That’s an odd callsign. Not going to share your name, Turai?”
Fuck it, FTE arrives at an internal consensus, but only just. “It is my name, nonetheless. It is a Narsai’i phrase I took to mark my new life with the Naranai’i.” Nailed it - everything in that sentence is technically true. “But I’m sure discussing names isn’t why we’re all here, so…” it motions over to Tanis to take over the next phase of babysitting.

“Yes!” Tanis says, motioning for Kokoi to take a seat at a folding table and chairs set up in the hangar. “Well, with the recent freeing of Grinacanne, we’ve got plenty of resources to work with, and if there’s any manufactured goods you’re looking for, between Narsai, Boronai and elsewhere, we’re sure we can set aside manufacturing capacity for what you want. It’s just a matter of how much you want and if it’s worth what you have.”
“We have a list,” Kokoi said, and flicked it over to Tanis. “Look it over, and we can start from there.”

---

It was a long few hours, but the wealth of data Front Toward Enemy gathered from the people standing around allowed it to prototype and test several different motion-captured idle behaviors. Nobody was going to call it out for standing too still again unless it was lining up a long-range shot. While it practices fidgeting, FTE looks around, always scanning for signs of unrest. That was what it was here for in the first place.

(FTE Notice: 1d8+1d10, 5)

There wasn’t much in the way of reaching for weapons - and they are armed, each carrying a beamer and what FTE’s sensors detect as a few holdout pantaki - but more a glaring form of distrust. Whoever these Quaratsa’i are, they don’t trust Tanis, they don’t trust you, it seems that they don’t trust the ship they’re standing in, either. They joke back and forth with each other under their breath, all with some variation on a thick accent that FTE’s databases don’t contain. They’re definitely looking FTE over, whether that’s because it’s the one guard for the Bashakra’i side versus their five guards, or because it’s a Sheen and they’ve figured that out, remains to be seen.

Finally, mercifully, it seems that the negotiations are wrapping up. “...and three shipments annually of hydrofarm product,” Tanis says. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Kokoi replies. “Now, you come with us.”
“Pardon?” Tanis says. This obviously was not part of the deal.
“You must inspect the airdock and we must seal the deal,” Kokoi replies. “Do you see the airdock here with us?”

“‘Must’ is a strong word,” FTE interjects. “I’ll inspect the airdock in Tanis’ stead. Everybody cool with that?”
“Uh -” Tanis started.
Kokoi looked at FTE. “Do you speak for the Bashakra’i?”
“That’s why I asked if everyone was cool with that instead of barking orders,” FTE replies cheerfully.

Tanis stands up. "Excuse me while I confer with the Turai here for a moment." He leads FTE off to the side by its arm. "What part of this is the 'be cool' part?" he hissed, then ran his hands through his hair. "Okay. Can't tell them no, because they're already looking for an excuse to scuttle this deal," he whispered. "And now that you've volunteered, we can't get backup to go with us." He looks FTE in the helm. There's no sconces where he's looking, but it's likely Tanis doesn't know that. "If we're in a Shadowport and they find out what you are…I can't guarantee you make it back here in one piece. Got it?"
“I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about the very bad ‘this is a kidnapping’ vibe when they altered the deal on you. I’m just altering it further.”
Tanis shakes his head - but does smirk a bit. "Is this Sheen negotiation basics?"
FTE shrugs. “It bought us a few moments at any rate. What do you think their game is? Why make such a big deal about inspecting the airdock - all this is future goods, isn’t it?”
“Tradition,” Tanis replies. “The Quaratsa’i don’t trust us ‘land-lovers’, too much bad history, so everything needs to be done in person. They don’t trust that we won’t renege on our future deal after they give us what we want, so they want us to put eyes on it in person and say it’s what we want. It’s just convenient that has to happen in the middle of their fleet. Not that they won’t start anything, but they might try to make some sort of side deal or tweak things in their favor. Probably.”
FTE nods. “Can’t say tradition is a priority for me. ‘Traditional Sheen’ is bad for everyone. But I can go look at some merchandise, doesn’t seem too bad.”
“Then let’s go look at some merchandise,” Tanis replied.

The Quaratsa’i negotiation contingent arrived on a bulk freighter partially converted into living quarters, and so there’s plenty of space for Tanis and FTE to make themselves scarce aboard the vessel. Front Toward Enemy stood or leaned with arms folded whenever the Quaratsa’i were obviously watching, trying to act nonchalant but observant. When it was fairly sure only the internal surveillance was on them, it paced nervously, putting on a show of a hired gun getting in over their head. Meanwhile, it studied schematics for airdocks.

(FTE Deception: 1d8 vs. 1d8 = 6 vs. 4)
(FTE Study: 1d6 vs. 1d8 = 4 vs. 2)

With the exception of a curt crew member coming in to ask if they needed anything, FTE and Tanis were left alone for the six hour journey. During this time, FTE managed to keep its attention to the even-more-boring-than-it-imagined topic of airdock design, maintenance, and appraisal, learning more than it ever wanted to know about hard seal versus soft seal airlock systems, ionized atmospheric containment fields, power feeds and air feeds and galleyways and all sorts of other spinkshit you need if you’re building a giant box for meatbags to work on their ships in.

Tanis, mostly, just kept watch. There was an hour where he asked FTE to keep watch while he took a nap, though.
“I guess we’re friends now,” the Sheen logged as the human slept. Tanis’ trust would not be misplaced.

----

A few gate jumps later, the freighter pulls into the Bora system, which FTE’s sensors indicate (AKA when it looks out a window in the break room) is more or less completely dead. There’s one planet that might have seemed habitable from a few dozen lightyears off, but boy oh boy were Expansion ever disappointed to find that the star is just a hair too active. Huge prominences arc off the star’s surface, making it look rippled and uneven, even from this far out. This much solar energy blows gas off of an enormous gas giant close in, providing the gas shroud that bamboozled Expansion’s remote scouting, and renders anything left out in its harsh glare less than 300,000 klicks away uncomfortably toasty.

Of course, when you say “star system abandoned by Expansion”, the next logical question is always “where’s the shadowport?” In this case, it’s hidden behind the large stone planet that Expansion were originally targeting, using the far-side equilibrium point to stay permanently in the planet’s shadow. The intense EM radiation streaming off the star, combined with the permanent night the station sits in, makes it a perfect if somewhat inhospitable and hard to supply place to set up a less-than-legal space station. It has the standard “bought, borrowed, and stolen” look of an illegal space station, with small lights of freighters docked and parked nearby, and a small fleet of hydrogen scavenger ships moving out to poke into the gas-rich solar wind blown out away from the inner star-gas giant binary. The planet below is baked dry by the sun, its atmosphere mostly stripped away, leaving it up to the station to park a few captured comets nearby for water and air processing.

Parked a little further out from the shadowport are a loose cloud of 38 ships by FTE’s instant count, a hodge-podge group of ships that must be part of the Quaratsa’i nomad fleet. FTE’s bit of research filled it in on the history of the group - yet another refugee people set adrift by the Imperium’s brutal crackdown. When their mostly aquatic planet’s ecosystem started to collapse due to aggressive Imperium undersea mining, they tried to protest against the exploitation and argue for a more limited approach, which did not go well for them. So far so Bashakra’i, but they A: didn’t make it past the first invasion, and B: as a mostly seafaring planet anyway, instead of swearing revenge and dedicating themselves to recapturing their homeworld, the Quaratsa’i instead swore off attachments to any planet at all, instead choosing to become a nomadic people. The various clans are tightly knit, consisting of between a dozen and almost fifty ships each, each self-sufficient group traveling from system to system. The Imperium doesn’t exactly welcome them to their controlled space, but they also aren’t a threat to the Imperium’s order, having simply opted out of it altogether. Bashakra’i records indicate that they have a cordial if not exactly friendly relationship with the Quaratsa’i, with the Quaratsa’i seeing the Bashakra’i as foolish for being attached to a planet half-scorched by the Imperium, and the Bashakra’i seeing the Quaratsa’i as choosing to run and hide rather than stand and fight. Still, both sides often have what the other wants - the Bashakra’i have the connections to materials and supplies from their network and now Boranai and Grinacanne, and the Quaratsa’i collect and repair derelict ships and platforms almost compulsively.

Which is what brings FTE and Tanis to this lovely little slice of galaxy. At the center of the cloud of ships is an airdock platform, one long enough for a whole Needleship and wide enough for another to sit by its side - cut in half lengthwise so it fits through an orbital. The Hekemu Industries logos on the side indicate that this used to be a freighter yard of some description, but the scorch marks and freshly repaired panels running down half the length of the yard indicate that some kind of Very Bad Fate befell this particular yard.

“You know the story behind this thing?” FTE asks Tanis. “Looks like it didn’t go quietly.”
“Beats me. Looks like a First-damned reactor let go next to it,” Tanis replies. “Hopefully they made it airtight, at least.”

“Oh, right - air,” FTE remembered with a chuckle.

Kokoi comes into the break room. “Admiring our repair work?” she asks.
“More wondering what punched that hole,” Tanis says.
“Reactor test on a short deadline,” Kokoi replies. “Too short. Hekemu Industries needs to learn that some things, you cannot rush. And to not conduct reactor tests next to bulk freighter airdocks. They were selling it for scrap, but their scrapyard security was as good as their safety procedures. It was not easy, but we knew that there would be a buyer.” She leaves unsaid that she knew that you would be the buyer. “Come, you can see up close for yourself.”

“I don’t know how much of this is ‘seeing’,” Tanis says as the runabout flies towards the airdock halves. His complaints are well-founded - the runabout has no actual windows, but instead has holos on one side of the ship.
“This is what we have on hand,” Kokoi responds, sitting in the copilot seat of the shuttle. “Plus, we can show you more of what we have done.”

The tour starts on the exterior, specifically with the part that is the most show-stopping, the big hole blown in the side of the airdock. There, Kokoi does make good on her promise to show off what they’ve done, switching the sconce feed to a X-ray scan of the welds and repair work around the hole, making the point that the Quaratsa’i have, indeed, made it airtight again. Front Toward Enemy mostly just nods. So far, the spacers have kept their word. It loosens the grip on its paranoia for the time being. There was something to like about these Quaratsa’i - the way they found the utility in broken things, how they kept their people running - FTE could appreciate that.

The shuttle turns around and moves between the two halves, showing the superstructure inside. With the Gateways forcing a fixed width for any ship, moving bulk freight like raw production materials around means going long. FTE has seen files on these freighters - long and cylindrical, typically 700-800 meters in length, crew compartment at the back end with the engines and reactor, and the rest taken up with bulk storage and the equipment to move it on and off. With the Imperium's restrictions on inter-system export, they're not the most common ships, but it's a big galaxy and sometimes you don't want to build a brand new resource processing facility where your production orbitals are or vice versa. That leaves the airdock for these ships basically divided into two long cylindrical superstructures inside an airtight hull, with rails for monotasks and transport running the length of the airdocks.

(FTE Notice: 1d8 vs. 1d8 = 5 vs. 4)
(Tanis Notice: 2d8 vs. 1d8 = 8 vs. 5)

Speaking of which…where's the rails?

It takes FTE a moment longer than Tanis to notice, probably because Sheen would simply use a shell better suited to microgravity to move around, but it does eventually notice there’s no rail system in place.

“Did you replace the monotask rails with something better or are they just not there?” FTE asks Kokoi.
There's a fractionally longer pause before she responds - 0.22 seconds - but aside from that she doesn't miss a beat. "The rails were damaged in the explosion. If you want us to replace them, it will take extra time and cost -"
"Hold up," Tanis says, "you said fully functional -"
"And the airdock is, just not the monotasks too," Koloi responds.
FTE crosses its arms, and it’s clear the machine is disappointed. “And how much more are you gonna discount it for omitting this obstacle to its stated functionality?”

(FTE Talk: 2d8 vs. 2d10 disadvantage = 7,4 vs. 6,1)

There's an uncomfortable silence going around the shuttle. The Quaratsa'i obviously didn't think that you'd notice the monotask rails were missing until the airdock halves had left the system, or at the very least until lats had exchanged hands.
"5 percent," Koloi says.
Front Toward Enemy inclines its head to Tanis. The conversation had leapt past accusations and right into agreeing on a number. This was his deal, he knew his limits.
"Twenty," Tanis countered.
"Ridiculous, they're just rails, you can fabricate them yourselves," Koloi said.
"For the trouble of having to fly out here and be lied to," Tanis replied.
Koloi narrowed her eyes at Tanis. "Seven."
"Fifteen," Tanis said.
"Ten," Koloi replied.
"Fourteen," Tanis replied, crossing his arms.
Koloi stared at Tanis for a moment. It briefly occurred to FTE how far outside Bashakra'i territory they both were at that precise instant in time. "Twelve," Koloi said.
"Done," Tanis said, extending a hand to shake, which Koloi did. "So, can we finish the two-lat tour?"

----


The rest of the tour was rather uneventful, and with one final handshake to seal the deal, lats were virtually exchanged and a date was set for Bashakra'i tugs to come and pick up their new airdock-to-be. On the way back, Tanis and FTE were left alone again in the ship's lounge.
"So, what do you think, FTE?" Tanis asks, laying down on the sofa under the viewports.

“Better than I expected, worse than I wanted,” the Sheen replies, allowing its idle subroutines to fall into a simulacrum of relief. Maybe more than that - the Quaratsa’i got their lats after all, and nobody seemed particularly intent on murdering the pair after the fact. Why not relax for real for a few minutes?
“I got a road trip out of our little adventure,” it continues after a moment. “I wouldn’t mind seeing how weird things get out here from time to time, and what if fourteen percent was their breaking point? You would’ve needed my help.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Tanis says. “Would hope that the Quaratsa’i would be smarter than that, but others might not be.” He leans back and lays down on the padded bench. “And if you’re looking for adventure, well, there’s a lot more trade that needs doing out there. Not everyone in the Bashakra’i negotiates at the end of a beamer, between Boranai and now Grinacanne, the Bashakra’i are starting to be an industrium unto ourselves. If you’re looking to get out there and see the galaxy, there’s worse ways to do it.” He pauses for a moment. “That’s what you…you and your friends are all about, right? Getting out there and seeing what’s going on.”
Front Toward Enemy nods. “More than that. There’s… well, this… idea of ‘consensus’ that’s very important to my friends and I. Everywhere I’ve been, everything I’ve done, it’s been with others and I haven’t seen anything that would suggest I’d be better off going it alone.” The Sheen sits down next to Tanis. “In fact, I’m beginning to think that’s the lesson I’m supposed to take home. So… team-up?”
“Can’t say I’ve had a protection detail like you before.” Tanis gives FTE a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Your 815 friends won’t mind?”

Front Toward Enemy runs through its accumulated data and through every mission, every unprecedented situation, every oddball new ally - when the mission wasn’t what was right, the 815 went off mission. And just like that, like warm sunlight on freshly-cleaned solar collectors, the Sheen arrived at a consensus.
“I think they would completely understand,” FTE replies.
Tanis extends a hand to shake. “Then partners it is.”
FTE returns the handshake. They sit in companionable silence, looking out the viewport at the expanse before them.
“Brinai’s gonna hate this,” it finally said.

fin