Bridgebuilder

Alex and Dominic shot the shit while they waited on the bodysuits to finish. These were complex pieces of equipment, doing most of the heavy lifting of keeping the human inside alive and comfortable while also being several times more durable than that same squishy bag of meat and calcium it was wrapped around. It also housed a lot of electronics that benefitted from staying intact.

Each one was tailored to their specific user, and assembled in a printer that looked a lot like a full mediboard, despite having no biological components. It did have to fit something nearly the same size as a Human. Only took about an hour. The armor layer that went over it - very lightweight in the case of an environment suit - needed less customization.

"I mean - they seem friendly, right? First contact went down great, all things considered, but I don't think they really wanted anything to do with us." The conversation had eventually come around to The Aliens, as was somewhat inevitable. Dominic - also employed by ONI Section 7 as a SIGINT analyst specialized in collection and exotic computer systems - was unsure what to make of them.

"So far the ones I've met have mostly been friendly, or indifferent. I was a guest, of course, so that could have something to do with it." There were one or two that were more than friendly. Murderous ones too, can't forget those. Neither of those groups would get mentioned for now. "We had a pretty cool start, sure. Humanity was the trespasser, but once we got things hammered out, we didn't have much to offer each other. We were both reasonably advanced, space faring races that weren't hurting for anything at the time. We've done some materials trading over the years, but that's about it."

The first treaty had been signed more than sixty years ago, and the trip from the edge of the Confed's frontier at New Austin to Schoen was nearly a full month on the fastest ship available at the time. The Tsla'o had been happy with their little Empire, expanding slowly and deliberately, in juxtaposition with the Human tendency to throw down roots wherever. Comfortable? Great. Too cold? We'll bundle up. Toxic, boiling hot atmosphere? That's what tunnels are for.

"Not even mediboards? That seems like a slam dunk." Dominic was right there, to a certain extent. All the medical personnel aboard the Sword had been excited to get their hands on it.

"Mediboards weren't a thing when the original treaty was signed. They've only been out for thirty years." Sometimes Alex felt like a fountain of useless information, but it had come in handy every week in college once he found a good team for trivia night at the Rust Bucket. "And you can't forget how much of a shitshow the first generation was. Marston's disease and all that. Imagine being like, hey here's this great technology we'd like to sell you, and burying the lede about it giving people super cancer sometimes. Not doing any business after that, at best."

"Wh- hang on, that's what Marston's is?" That information was news to Agent Crenshaw, voice dripping with horror as he leaned in. He wasn't too much older than Alex, so they would have both been children when the first gen was having teething problems. "I thought it was like- Like organ rejection."

Honestly that wasn't a lot better, but it was better than Marston's. "No, early boards used a synthetic cell that just didn't go through differentiation right sometimes. Some kind of stem and cancer cell hybrid, it usually did cancer stuff when left to its own devices, but sometimes you got the bonus of growing random things in places they didn't belong. Didn't you ever see the teeth picture?"

There was no way in any of the hells that the Tsla'o would have wanted mediboard technology when it involved cells that used some DNA from cancer.

"No. What the hell is the teeth picture?"

"Ooh, lucky. I cannot stress this enough: do not look it up." Seriously, don't look it up.

"The Marston's teeth picture? He is right, do not look that up." They had been engrossed in this conversation deeply enough that neither of them noticed a third person coming down the bay. He had a terse British accent, neatly parted blond hair and gray eyes. Looked like the most professional person in the entire depot, wearing brown slacks and a button down shirt. "There's a video too. A most unsettling thing to behold."

Dominic's head whipped around, startled by this sudden interjection. "Fuck, man- The hell'd you come from?"

"Cambridge." He looked just as smug as could be when he said it.

Alex was a bit more used to surprises, apparently. "The city or the university?"

"University. I hail from Uttoxeter."

The Martian was at a loss, shaking his head. "Never heard of that, what planet is it on?"

"It's in England." He said it like he'd never had someone assume he was born off Earth before, let alone outside of the UK.

"Where in England?" Alex had visited London for a few days once after getting bounced from the Scoutship program, before backpacking through a good chunk of the rest of Europe. He hadn't found enlightenment or anything, but it had helped him stop dwelling on that failure.

"Just down the road from Stoke-on-Trent."

They stared up at the blond like he wasn't speaking English anymore. Alex shook his head.

The brit sighed. "North of Birmingham?"

Alex did not make the joke about that being a city in Alabama. "Oh, kinda... Upper middle England."

He took that, flashing a friendly grin. "Yes, exactly!"

"Well, congrats." Dominic was done with the new guy already, returning to the conversation he had been having with Alex. "They did fix that problem, right?"

"Mostly. I've heard that stacking repairs on repairs can still give you cancer, but it's a rare side effect. People trying to change how they look all the time. That sort of thing." Not a problem he had to worry about unless they had to keep swapping hardware out of his head. Having entire parts regrown was a different ball of wax.

While he was happy to continue the conversation, Alex was not done talking to the new guy. Just had the feeling that they were all part of the same crew. He stuck out his hand. "Alex Sorenson."

"John Abbot." He was pretty jazzed about this, shaking Alex's hand with no small amount of enthusiasm and having a seat around the missile crate/coffee table. "You're the pilot, right?"

"All right, I'm feeling a little behind the times here. How does everyone know who I am?" Seriously, what the hell? "And why don't I know any of you?"

Crenshaw cleared his throat. "Had an almost all hands meeting last week. You and a couple of the Marines weren't available." He seemed a little annoyed about John's inclusion here.

Alex already had his phone out, scrolling back through his email. "Didn't even get a notification the meeting was happening, let alone notes it. Figures."

"They said you were traveling with the Tsla'o, so there was no way to include you." Abbot was quick to help out. "As you are in pretty good with them, have you had the opportunity to learn much of their language?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"A bit. Lots of the basics, but I've got a good translator so I haven't needed very much."

"He's our linguistics guy." Dominic was not enthused about this at all.

"I am, yes. Ah- Ad akai, Alex. Tena so John Abbot." He was proud of that one.

"Close. Either drop the 'ad' in front of the 'akai' for an informal greeting, or use 'akai-na' to make the whole thing formal. I'd actually stick to informal unless you're meeting a noble." That was pretty good. Perfectly comprehensible, if not an awkward mix of formal and casual. None of the Tsla'o Alex knew would give Abbot trouble for it. "A touch more sibilant on the s sounds as well."

Abbot was scribbling notes on a palm-sized notepad. "Interesting, the only documents I have on Tsla didn't get into the divide between formal and informal."

"I'm still in the dark about the finer points. But if you see a hyphen, it's a normal word made formal." He was getting a better feel for it, at least. "Or maybe a formal word made informal. I don't know which way they go. You'll be in contact with a bunch of folks who do, starting tomorrow."

He tucked the little notepad and pen back into his shirt pocket. "Be that as it may, I find any insight that is fresh to be useful - particularly if it makes my own first contact less awkward."

The PA system came on with a click, the Petty Officer requesting that Dominic return to the print bay. He excused himself to go try his suit on.

Abbot was nervous as Dominic left, watching the Martian leave before turning back to Alex. "You've been out there before? I mean... The place, but other planets and solar systems too?"

Alex kind of got what he was driving at. "Been all over, yeah. Just came back from Na'o as a matter of fact, which is why I wasn't at the meeting."

"I- I haven't. Today is the second time I've left Earth." He laughed, still very uneasy. "Last week was the first time. Have any advice for a newbie?"

"Try not to sweat it. I know that's easy to say, but you're not out here testing new equipment, all of this gear is proven. We're going somewhere unusual, but having been there, it doesn't strike me as unsafe." He weighed what to say next, lips pulled tight for a second. He tapped his chest, right over the sliver of metal in his solar plexus. "If it does the thing, that did hurt a bit even though it passed quickly. Not gonna lie about that."

Abbot blanched. "Ah, that is helpful and unhelpful all at once."

"Yeah, that's exploring things for you." He shrugged. It was a mixed bag in his limited experience. "I've met a few members of the team from both sides now, they're competent. We're in good hands."

"Well. We will be meeting the entire crew tomorrow. I suppose I will see, then." He was not particularly mollified by that. "What sort of environment suit are you getting?"

"Exo RS4." They had six e-suits on the list for civilians to choose from, and The Exo RS line was the high end of that. A generalist, made to do a lot of things well. Built-in everything. The helmet was supposed to be fantastic. "I've heard good things. Multichrome paint on the armor too. What'd you get?"

"The Rayton Pacesetter."

"Oh, that one's actually made in England, isn't it?" It was also recognized for its durability, common in shipyards, demolition sites, and other places one might be concerned about getting crushed. About as close as one could get to power armor without skirting laws. It made sense for someone nervous about where they were going. It was also bulky. "I'm just going to say, maybe think about something a little lighter for your first outing."

"Is it bad?" A hint of regret filtered into Abbot's voice.

"No, it's a great suit. More intended for construction than getting around."

"Ah." He was conflicted, making notes again. "I'll give it a think tonight."

Dominic came bounding up to them, this time taking the vehicle lane. The basesuit gleamed in the bay lights, dark gray-black armored skin covering his entire body from the neck down. A dozen hardpoints glowed, waiting to interface with an outer suit. "Damn this thing makes running easy."

It really did give the impression of a naked body if you weren't looking too close. Actually it did if you were looking close, too. Bundles of machine muscle flexed over their living Human counterparts, giving Dominic the general outline of a bodybuilder. Not really something Alex was enthused about when considering someone he had just met forty minutes ago. "Everything green so far?"

He looked like a kid in a candy store. "Yeah, the systems are fine. Just need to finish getting my RS sized now."

"The RS is a solid choice." That was mostly directed at John.

Dominic had chilled out about having a third person waiting with them as they resumed their discussion about the Tsla'o and old Mediboard technology, and the wisdom of lighter e-suits when there was enough strength in the base to not notice an extra thirty or fifty kilos. Dominic was also extremely amused by how much he could effortlessly pick up now.

About fifteen minutes later Alex got his. Arrived just in time to watch the suit march itself into the dressing room. It was unsettling to watch a headless, Human-shaped thing walk by itself even though he knew basic pathfinding was built in. You could tell it to march overnight and it would, while you attempted to sleep while marching.

The back pulled open as he approached, from the neck to the calves, the life support pack that covered most of the back stuck to the right side. He slotted his phone and ID card into the spots for those, enhancing his comms and turning the suit itself into his ONI issued ID card, and then stripped down naked and stepped inside.

They tell you it feels weird, and it does. The internal musculature holds the suit open until the limbs are seated and then relaxes, closing up behind you in stages. Gripping the body, part by part. This model was meant to be worn for quite a long time so it has a tube that also grips one thing in particular in lieu of a catheter. Apparently you could do all your business in it, if you had to. Alex wasn't inclined to try that out, but who knows what the future brings.

Once sealed, the other onboard systems started to come online. Primary battery, life support, comms, emergency equipment. It even connected to two of his near-field comm ports, allowing him to access it with his Amp. The first thing he did was send Ed a text message about how he was sending him a text message using his phone with his Amp, routed through the comms system on his new basesuit. He found that more entertaining than it had any right to be.

The Petty Officer had him plug in to a diagnostics rig to double check that everything was operating normally. A little walking, running, picking things up, sitting down, standing up. All fine, reading within expected range.

Alex didn't notice it at first, but there was an option to route the suit's tactile feedback through his Amp. It left him feeling like there wasn't a thick layer of sintered armor and machine systems wrapped around his entire body. He could manipulate a pen just as easily as he could without the suit on - though the plastic tube did feel quite a bit more fragile.

The Martian had been right as well, it was damn easy to run while wearing it. A test sprint on the way back to the break room ended very quickly as the onboard impact warnings started going off in his mind, the speedometer that flashed up in his vision getting up to 34 kph before he skidded to a stop. That was a bit faster than he had expected, and made the distance between his face and the wall disappear at an alarming rate.

The PA clicked on again and he was reminded that speeds were limited to 20 kph inside the depot.

Alex didn't have any trouble minding that.

It was nice, talking to some folks that were Human, as they sat around waiting for Abbot's suit to finish. It had been months since he'd talked to just other Humans, no Tsla'o waiting in the wings. He missed Carbon, and his enjoyment of this moment didn't change that, but it was refreshing. There was no pretense here - he was getting good at not letting the conversation wander towards things he shouldn't talk about - no one concerned about his station or that Eleya loomed over his shoulder.

Abbot's suit was fine, though he was easily the most awkward wearing it. They left the suits at the depot and once again wearing street clothes, went their separate ways. Crenshaw wanted to go hit the bar, something that Abbot agreed to immediately. Alex passed, retiring to his hotel room to attempt to adapt to UTC time, as that was what he'd be running on for at least another month.

Alex stared at the ceiling in the dark again, loss leaving his chest hollow no matter which way his mind turned. He wouldn't be hanging out with people so casually, friends or otherwise, after this. That portion of his life was gone unless something drastic changed, and he had come to terms with that but it was easier to accept when it was more distant.

That dull ache was just as bad when he thought about Carbon and Neya. He loved Carbon, and was very fond of their Zeshen as well. He still felt bad about leaving her behind, and about the charade he and Carbon would be playing. Just a former pilot and his engineer. Friends, but not very good friends.

Another night that took him far too long to go to sleep.