A mouth was exposed, smiling, his white teeth standing out against a rich tan and the dark creases in his skin. The man looked like a surfer—like someone who had spent his entire life on the beach. Cole had a hard time matching that neck-up look with the garb for an endless winter.

“What do you want with us?” Riggs asked.

The man turned to him. “A few answers,” he said calmly. “Oh, and then your undying loyalty, of course.” His smile broadened. His voice was warm, deep, and thick with a forgotten accent. It harkened back to a time when English was spoken by a minority of Humans, back before it gathered the rich pronunciations that would come with universalizing the language. It reminded Cole of some old pre-holo vids, flat stuff he had watched in Portugal as a kid.

Riggs laughed. “Not the best way to win us over, asshole!”

Cole ground his teeth together, wishing Riggs would calm down. He watched the blonde man pull off his gloves and tuck them into his belt. Every motion seemed both purposeful and relaxed. An odd combination, yet seductive, like watching an expert perform some complex task without pause or worry, just sure precision. The man reminded Cole of one of his old flight instructors: rugged and handsome in an ageless way, a guy who could speak through a smile and somehow make you want to follow him anywhere.

“Actually, Captain Riggs, we’ve found this to be the best way to win people over.”

“Do I know you?” Riggs stammered.

“You may’ve heard of me,” the man said. “My name’s Joshua. Joshua O’Connell.”

Cole felt a twinge of recognition; he looked to Riggs, who was shaking his head.

“How do you know who I am?” Riggs asked.

The man laughed. It was like warm honey being poured into Cole’s ears. The two men by the door joined in, whether by some shared joke or sense of duty, it was hard to tell.

“Your name’s on your flightsuit,” Joshua said, pointing at his chest.

The two men by the door laughed harder. Cole watched Riggs turn red as he glanced down at his chest. Cole did the same, looking at his flightsuit from Parsona, the one with Molly’s father’s name on it.

Joshua waved down the two hyenas by the door and smiled warmly at Riggs. “Normally, I leave these orientations to my subordinates. They break you down, I build you up, that sort of thing. However,” he turned to Cole. “You are causing quite the stir. Got people whispering all up the chain of command. Enough to make my new boss pay a visit.”

“He’s nobody,” Riggs said. “A flunky. You leave him be.”

Cole glared at Riggs, begging with his eyes for him to be quiet.