The tell-tale pneumatic hiss as the doors surreptitiously parted diverted Mavriq’s attention away from the handful of recruits and toward a trio of bipedal machines. Two primary legs, arms, and an upright posture was as far as their vague resemblance to humans went; overall, Mavriq deemed them utilitarian and, in a word, boxy. At least the verbal and foremost one was adorned with enough color to make for an interesting spectacle. Their presence was, for Mavriq, unexpected, although he surmised the mission parameters included a forewarning; perhaps during a periodic and vexatious moment where his mind strayed from the present. He made a note to review the matter when he returned to the Thunderclap to transfer the remainder of his apparatuses. In any case, once the machine announced its name, Mavriq, in a subconscious delay tactic, opined,

[i]“Aten, variant designation for the Egyptian god of the sun.”[/i]

Beside him, he noticed Feurtes, who was in the midst of collapsing the temporary-use furniture, shake his head as though he were disappointed. The big man stood and clarified, [i]“Lieutenant d’Agenais, I believe the MRS unit is asking for our names, not a convenient nickname for itself.”[/i]

Mavriq frowned, but decided this was a moment to assert his clout and insisted, [i]“I doubt everyone on our team will easily remember a-ten-dash-twenty-something. Asking the unit to tag itself as Aten is much more efficient for everyone involved. Don’t you agree, Warrant Officer Feurtes?”[/i]

A shrug of assent was all Mavriq needed, then he moved on to formally address the MRS unit. With his dataslate gripped firmly and populated with the final cut of team members, still rendered on the screen, he said, [i]“I am First Lieutenant Mavriq d’Agenais of the Origin Navy Science Division, provisionally in charge of this operation. As you likely deduced, the big man in the fatigues is Warrant Officer Dario Feurtes, our liaison with Origin’s military affairs; he is to ensure we have all the equipment we need to execute a successful operation. Cass”[/i]—he said her name after a rushed inhalation and gestured toward the brunette in the corner—[i]“is, for wont of a better word, our tour guide. She will assist with security, if need be. Then we have”[/i]—briefly, he peered through his glasses at the dataslate in an effort to recall the man’s name—[i]“Vincent Marlowe. He will be our software specialist. You’ll note him by his integration augmentations. Sophia -- I’m sorry, I can’t pronounce your last name -- will”[/i]—at this he nodded in her direction—[i]“address our medical concerns.”[/i]

He felt rather pleased with himself at how proficiently he concluded the human itinerary. Still, in the awkward silence that ensued he wondered whether his performance was as apt as he first assumed. This was confirmed when Feurtes’ expectantly stared at him, as though he awaited Mavriq to make a tacitly obvious pronouncement.

[i]“Next order of business,”[/i] Mavriq paused, considered what logically followed, and decided, [i]“set up our two operational facilities, on Maasym Orbital Station and on Derelict. Feurtes and Aten, along with, if prudent, the two other androids, will be responsible for the forward base of operations. Clearly”[/i]—and this he fabricated in an effort to sound decisive—[i]“MRS units are subordinate to orders from Origin military personnel, which puts Feurtes in charge of that base. As for the rest of us, we will wrap up the transfer our belongings to the facilities here on the station.”[/i]

As the group filtered out of the room, Mavriq caught Feurtes by the shoulder and whispered in his ear, [i]“Cognitive degeneration is a known consequence for humans on Derelict, but we don’t know how A.I. react. Do you have a, uh, kill command should these things go haywire?”[/i]

Feurtes looked at him, grinned, patted his sidearm, said, [i]“Right here, Lieutenant,”[/i] and walked off in the company of Aten and the two A9s.