“Yeah, he’s kind of really cool,” she said. “Didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Especially after you made that comment about him fighting.” Though now it seemed a little too much—a small thought that had been carried out after a concerned comment. It had felt funny when she’d thought it half an hour ago, but she suspected that, had she been in a stable frame of not-sleep deprived mind, she likely would have told him—but Tuomin didn’t appear to notice, or hear her. His attention had latched onto the blueprint, probably deciding it was the most interesting thing, and hadn’t left.

He lifted a hand. “He built this?”

A derisive snort came from the hall. “No. Robots built it. I just designed the circuits.” Soft footsteps approached, and Uncle Daran ducked into sight around the corner. Although short and thin, he carried a stocky, squarish frame that suggested his leanness was the result of a malnourishment rather than genetics. He wasn’t bone-thin, nor was he as skinny as Kapil, but where Kapil carried some measure of healthfulness about him her Uncle looked more like a former famine survivor who had never quite put the weight back on. An unkempt, gray dusting of hair hung around his face in a shag, turning to fluffy wisps toward its ends. The tight grimace on his face switching to relief when he caught sight of her. “Jiayi.”

“Hey, Uncle.” She bent forward as he pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her arms around his back. “I’m sorry about Aunt Lian.”

“Me, too. She’s a good woman.” He released her, pulling back but keeping her right arm in his hand. His gaze went over her, concern drawing his eyebrows down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but the station’s not. Lots of attacks, and weird outages.”

“I know, I know. You said. I’ve heard.” His gaze moved beyond her and settled on Tuomin. “And who is your friend?”

Tuomin stepped forward and saluted. “Kadaraki Tuomin, Private Second Class.”

“Oh ten hells, did you actually salute me?” Uncle Daran gave a brief, sardonic grin. “No, boy, I’m not military. Just an old weapons contractor. And I assume you are not the one responsible for frogmarching my niece down into some sublevel and risking her life.” He made a brief hissing sound with his tongue, then wrinkled his nose. “What’s that you got there? An 820 Model?”

“820-2, sir.”

He made another hissing sound and let go of Jiayi’s hand. “They absolutely neutered those units. Drop by if you ever get a few free hours. I’ll give it back its balls.”

“Er.” Tuomin hesitated. “Carrying a modified weapon is illegal.”

“Then don’t tell anyone.” Uncle Daran rolled his eyes and strode over to his workstation, pushing a magnifying lamp out of the way. “Are you really going to say no to added firepower? Now that we’re under attack?”

“Just say yes,” she said. “He’s still got a license, so anything he does will be above-bar.”

“You have such a paragon view of me.” Uncle Daran snorted. “Truth is, anything I do to a weapon is above-bar by the simple fact that it is me doing it.”

“That’s… not comforting, Uncle.”

“I don’t care. Now—thank you for bringing my niece here. I will make sure she is safe. But she needs rest, so I need you to go away. Do you have her netlink ID?”

“Er… yes.”

“Good man. We won’t keep you any longer. Safe travels. Come back to mod the 820.”

Hesitating, Tuomin met her eyes, his brows coming down in a frown. Then he turned and started back for the door.

“Oh—wait!” Jiayi raised her hand after his back and stumbled forward. “What’s the name of that other guy that was with us? Your captain?”

He turned back, the frown deepening on his face. “My Captain?”

“The black guy,” she clarified.

“Oh. That’s Rossen. Private First Class.”

“Ah. Thanks.” She smiled. “I forgot.”

“Uh, no problem.” He gave a little wave, then turned back. As he moved into the entranceway, Uncle Daran pressed a holokey on a wall panel that lit up at his desk and a dim white light flicked on overhead. A second later, the door slid open and Tuomin stepped through.

“Cute boy,” Uncle Daran commented after the door had closed. “You going to keep him?”

She frowned over at him. “I already have a boyfriend.”

“Just one? That’s hardly ambitious.” He flashed her a toothy grin as his face turned back her way. “Besides, Kapil is trash. You should have dumped him long ago.”

Her throat tightened. “Kapil was taken.”

“Oh, shit.” The humor dropped off his face. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I—” She closed her eyes hard as emotion overwhelmed her face, forcing herself to speak through the waver in her voice. “How could this happen? Those things shouldn’t be real.

“I don’t know, kid. This is about as effed up as I’ve ever heard.” He reached over and gripped her shoulder with one hand, giving it a light squeeze. “And you’re right, they shouldn’t be real. But they are, and until the science brains on the top tier or Chamak figure something out, we’re going to have to deal with them.”

A small, nearly-silent sob shuddered through her shoulders. As she scrunched her eyes shut even more and bent her head forward, he pulled her close to him, those too-thin arms of his holding her in a tight hug as she devolved into half-choked crying, one arm patting her back. The smell of solder came to her again from his shirt, tinged with electrical smoke. His skin, like hers and Tuomins and likely half of all the station, had a grimy, post-sweat feel to it. She could feel her tears soak into its fabric.

After a while, her sobs grew less and less. Her shoulders didn’t stop shaking, nor did the rest of her, but she could breathe again. And think. And, maybe, speak.

He loosened his grip and stepped back, holding her at arms’ length.

“My, you look like absolute shit.”

That startled a laugh out of her. A messy, choking laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“I wasn’t lying to that boy—you do need rest. I’d rather you stay here in the shop, though. Safest place to guard you in. Do you need me to turn the lights down?”

“No, I think I need a little light now.”

“As do we all. Now, come help me make a bed so I can tinker with my blasters while watching you sleep.”