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“Well, maxing the course doesn’t indicate talent or experience. So review anything you need to now in case you’re needed.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Tirdal agreed.

“One other issue,” Shiva said, grimacing to himself. This wasn’t an easy one to broach. “Darhel don’t think like humans.”

“We don’t,” agreed Tirdal. “What are you referring to?”

“Humans and Darhel have coexisted for a thousand years, and in that time, we’ve learned almost nothing about you,” Shiva said, warming up. “We were damned near your slaves for a hundred years. You’re generally much more mercenary and individualistic than humans, correct? And we don’t get along well. No insult, just an observation.”

“That’s generally correct,” Tirdal agreed, his voice even flatter.

“What you have to keep in mind is that we’re running this on human terms,” Shiva said cautiously. “You have to try to operate as we would, not as a Darhel.”

“What specifically?” Tirdal asked. It sounded like he was probing.

“Ah, hell, I can’t find a diplomatic way to say this… our experience says that Darhel are more willing to draw back when things get tough.” He didn’t use the word “cowardice” but the thought hung in the air. “Darhel don’t risk themselves for the group. Darhel aren’t willing to go the last yard unless something is in it for them. For humans, when we’re in the bad and the scary, we do it for each other. So, I’ve got to ask: What are you going to cling to when the lives are flushing down the disposal chute?”

“I am here for a mission. I will do what is called for for that mission,” Tirdal said. If he was offended, he didn’t let it slip into his inflection. “It is hard to explain to a human. For Darhel, to be in a place such as this, doing this, is a philosophical choice. If I was capable of turning against that philosophy, I would not be here in the first place. I am not here for you. Nor for Gun Doll. I am solely here to perform the mission. And I will do that to my utmost.”

“Good,” Shiva said. “And it’s not just you I’ll be addressing. Everyone else has to understand that bugging out is a fast way to die. They should all know that, I’ll remind them anyway. That leads to the point.”

“Yes?” Tirdal asked. His ear flick was invisible inside the helmet.

“Who calls the ball?” Shiva asked. “For the pod to lift, it has to have the command to do so. In reality, there’s always a chance of someone wetting pants and running. If they get into the pod, that leaves the rest stranded. I don’t know about Darhel, but it is part of human nature, a bad attribute that’s too common and hard to suppress. That’s why only the commander can call the ball.”

“I understand,” Tirdal said. “Humans have two sets of attributes; those they use outwardly and display, those inside they fear and can’t control. By not discussing those negative attributes, they are subject to a loss of control and reversion to instinct. You really aren’t as developed as you’d like to think you are.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, exactly, but it hit Shiva hard. So much for diplomacy.

“That’s good enough for our discussion,” Shiva grudgingly admitted. “What that means is, the pod will not respond to anyone who’s not ranking. It will make periodic contact with our medical sensors, and will only depart if the senior member orders it. Junior troops will be ignored. And sometimes… the fact that a junior troop isn’t on board has to be ignored, too. If the mission calls for it. So anyone in charge may have a morale problem squared if things go to hell.”

“Is this a warning or an order?” Tirdal asked.

“Both,” Shiva said. His expression wasn’t visible through the helmet, either.

* * *

Tirdal was the first one Shiva spoke to. Dagger was second. Nobody liked Dagger much, either. But he was very good at his job. He was just creepy in demeanor. Nor was he enthusiastic. “The goddamned Elf is number three?”

“Enough of that, Dagger,” Shiva warned. “You know this. Deal with it. And it shouldn’t come up, anyway.”

“No,” Dagger said, “Unless things go in the toilet anyway, in which case we can just assume we’re dead.”

“Dagger, deal with it,” Shiva warned again.

“Oh, I’ll deal with it,” he promised. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the Darhel will die first.”

“Dagger!” Shiva’s voice was sharp.

“Oh, relax, Sarge. I’m not going to gap him. I’m just pondering possibles.”

“He’ll do his job. You do yours. Capiche?”

“No problem.”

That was a lie, Shiva decided. Dagger was always potentially a problem. But he could do his job, and did, even if he ran command ragged in the process.

Shiva spoke to the rest of the team in turn. Gorilla didn’t seem worried. But then, he was a specialist himself, and only along for a job in his own mind. Gun Doll just said, “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. And that he’s as good as he appears to be.”

Thor and Ferret just grunted. They knew they were low men on the pole anyway. Once done, Shiva reported to Bell Toll. “Spoke to everyone, sir.”

“Yes, I listened in,” was the reply.

“Think it’s okay?”

“Yes,” Bell Toll said. “Dagger’s just nervy and trying to put a face out. The rest aren’t a problem. Tirdal sounds as ready as anyone.”

“Well, it’s the situation we have, sir. It’ll just have to do.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bell Toll assured him.

“Yeah. So why am I jittery?”

“You’re nervy, too.”

“Yeah, that must be it. Think I’ll read a bit while we travel, sir,” Shiva said. He was never jittery. He’d made his career on being calm and collected.

“Fine, Sarge. We’ll review intel again after we sleep, say from oh two hundred to oh seven hundred.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll tell them.”

Even Dagger was playing games now. The trip was too long to keep up his front. Thor and Ferret started a joint shooting game of some kind. That was to be encouraged, as it required coordination between the two. It wasn’t as good as a training sim, but it was still interaction. Gorilla kept his screens up, looking at anything rather than the tight quarters. Gun Doll was alternating map games with music.

Tirdal appeared to be meditating. His bio readings were at the very low end of Darhel normal. No programs were running in his helmet. Three hours into it, Gun Doll saw him through her visor while switching from her game back to music. He had a limp look that didn’t match the natural body tension of a game. But his eyes looked to be open and alert behind the dim red glow of the pod’s lighting reflected off his visor.

“Whatcha doin’, Tirdal?” she asked on the common freq, curious.

“Talking to whales,” Tirdal said, turning slightly in her direction.

“Very amusing, Tirdal,” Shiva muttered. “I didn’t know Darhel understood the human sense of humor.” He was on the public channel, too.

“Only incompletely,” Tirdal replied.

“Well, no matter. But if we’re going to work as a team, you need to work hard on fitting in with the rest of us. If it’s some private thing you’re doing, say so. If not, tell us the truth. We need a handle on you as much as you need one on us.

“So what is it you’re doing?”

“Meditating, mostly,” Tirdal said without pause. “It helps me focus on the mission. Otherwise, my… Sense… is alert for Tslek.” It was mostly a true statement.

“Hear any?” Shiva grunted.

“Not so much hear, as know. There’s no sense yet. When I get one, it will be just a general feeling. Imagine you see city lights on the horizon… it’s that kind of awareness until I get close enough for details.”

“Hell, Tirdal,” Gun Doll put in, “we can sense that much.” She sounded rather disgusted.