“It’s probably just like the way chicks get treated,” Gun Doll said. “There’s so few of us, still, that we stand out. Everyone assumes that women, shrimps, aliens and civvy specialists get special treatment.” She looked over at Dagger, who’d hazed her mercilessly upon her arrival, before grudgingly admitting she knew her job. “Right, Dagger?”

Dagger was putting away fine tools from his cleaning and maintenance kit. He was forever tinkering with his rifle, and carried extra tools to that end. It was probably unauthorized for him to do depot level adjustments, but he shot well enough that no one would dare complain. He laid down a probe and shrugged very slightly.

“I put him where I put everyone else. If he does his job, I don’t have a problem. If Shiva says he maxed the course, I’ll assume he can keep up, keep quiet and back us up.” Closing the receiver on his gauss rifle, he cycled the mechanism, pressed the stud, and listened to the snap of the ignition circuit. “If he screws up, it’ll make more work for me. Then we have a problem.”

Gun Doll, Gorilla and Shiva stared momentarily at each other, not at Dagger. Dagger wasn’t paying attention to them. At least not outwardly. It was probably part of his act. He loved to play the cold killer. It was annoying, but it was how Dagger was.

“Dammit, why did it have to be a Darhel? Why not a human sensat?” Thor groused.

“Because we don’t have enough,” Shiva replied. Human sensats were not only rare, but were needed to produce GalTech materials, because the only way anyone had figured out to produce most of the gear at that level was the way the Indowy did it — by “praying.” Actually, it was a complex ritual of meditation and thought, but it was very intensive and those doing it were not generally available nor disposed to lugging huge rucks through dangerous wilderness.