“I think my boyfriend wants to break up with me.” Sliding from her harness, Anitra stood up, her voice raised above the roar of the turbulence as the ship carved its way through the choppy atmosphere. No one could tell she was shouting from the smooth flow of her diction. The ship neared their appointed jump zone. Anitra strode to the rack containing the Extra-Vehicle Mobility units, the military grade navsuits. Loud and Ugenini (through and through) and beautiful, there was nothing self-deprecating about Anitra. Her ever-direct gaze made people uncomfortable, as if she dared a person to not like her just the way she was. Moving as if the hiccupping ship was little more than sand between her toes on a beachside visit, she slung her EVM over her one-piece nanomesh suit. The EVM units were specifically designed for space dives. The black body stocking of her nanomesh, both hydrophobic and insulating, acted as a buffering interface between her and the exoskeleton. A patch of royal purple and old gold had been sewn onto her uniform.

“We’re not doing this,” said Robin, a tank of a woman who all but left tread marks when she dashed across an open field. Given space to run, no one could catch her. With such a charge, she could bowl over an entire platoon. She chomped on a large, unlit blunt. When on a mission, she was on edge and the chiba leaves–stuffed cigar served as the promise of reward awaiting her at the completion of a successful mission.

“What?” Anitra filled her voice with innocent protest.

“That thing.”

“What thing?” Anitra paused with her EVM still only half-on.

“That thing where when two women get together, all they can do is talk about a man.” Robin sucked her teeth, already half-disgusted with the turn of conversation.

Anitra fastened the last of her EVM into place and cradled her helmet in the crook of her arm. She turned solemnly to Robin and with a stoic face said, “I think my girlfriend wants to break up with me, too.”

“That’s not any better.” Robin let loose an exasperated sigh.

The Hughes’s engines roared, its sudden acceleration cutting through the turbulent atmosphere. After their mission’s completion, the ship was due to rendezvous with the Baldwin and Morrison on the other side of the Orun Gate to coordinate the next phase of their mission. Fela began to undo her harness to fit into her own EVM. Even without turning, she knew Epyc Ro studied her. Her face nearly one hundred years of uncracked Ugenini, not a hint of a crease in sight, the captain made her final assessments. With a cool, detached stare, without the heat of resentment, anger, or jealousy. Just stoic professionalism. And it broke part of Fela’s heart.