"Alright, let's go over the arguments one more time." Sarah Capplan sat across from me in the executive shuttle on the last leg of our trip to Earth. "Cost for new manufacturing?"

"Polycarbonates and ceramics are both easier to omni-fabricate than metallics, and the lack of integral Eezo reduces material costs to 1/4 per unit over comparable Devlon Industries weapons." With the rest of Jawa still at the Citadel due to what I can only describe as 'political shenanigans', I was in a bit of a state of limbo.

"Advantages over existing weapons systems?" Command's solution, both to keep me occupied and out of mischief, was to send me and WS-1 Capplan back to Earth to pitch the new Chambered Laser system to the procurement board.

"Greater per shot power over any current market model in any given class except the Beowulf .50, unaffected by kinetic barriers, zero detectable emissions before and after firing, low cyclic rate means passive cooling sufficient to maintain continuous operations, and simplicity of design/minimal moving parts means maintenance is so simple, an infantryman could do it."

Sarah mock-scowled at me. "Watch it, buddy; I resemble that remark."

So here I was, riding a shuttle carrying what was possibly the most advanced, state-of-the-art arsenal of 1970's laser technology.

I glanced towards the flight deck. "There's going to be a lot of Brass and business there. You the senior rank here; shouldn't you be the one making the pitch?"

She leaned back and rested her hands behind her head. "You're right; I do outrank you, so I'm delegating the obnoxious part of this job to you, while I get to shoot."

I scoffed. "Oh sure, take the easy job why don't you." She chuckled and closed her eyes. "Do we know who'll be there?"

She shrugged. "I supposed the usual assortment of industry shills and lobbyists, plus reps from all the branches."

"Do we know if the Citadel's sending anyone?"

That got her to open her eyes and frown. "I'm pretty sure Armax and Serrice Council each have someone at every one of these events."

I pulled up the guest list and scrolled through. "I've got a Mr. M. Vestian and a Ms. K'Vant. What do we have from them?"

She started typing. "Don't forget about Devlon Industries. We're taking a poke at their market share."

I nodded and looked through. "Based on the seating arrangement, I have a Mr. LeVoirsiere, no titles but he's nested right in amongst the Generals."

She smirked. "Yup; Francois LeVoirsiere, technical advisor to the Parliament Procurement Oversight Committee and," she whistled, "5% shareholder."

I frowned at that. "That would definitely give him a seat at the table." I looked at Sarah. "We're set in the event they try some good old fashioned skullduggery?"

She gave me a humorless grin and patted the crates between us. "Command is counting on it. The rumor I heard was that Old man Grant was getting so much pushback from Devlon for not subcontracting the Beowulf production lines, or exclusively equipping with Devlon's equivalent of Mil-Spec, that there was a threat against his family." She smirked at my expression. "It's true! I heard Irene from GT Gator talking about a corporate hatchet job she and the rest of the Amazons were tasked to, 'from the Top'. Her words."

I whistled. "I know some Ghosts are given to bluster, but Lilly's crew? If you heard it from one of the Amazons, then I'll take it as Gospel."

I looked worriedly at Sarah, and she seemed to understand my meaning. "Don't worry, they won't try anything at the Demo in Ochsenboden; the Swiss would destroy Devlon, and the UN still has enough sway that the SA would be forced to respond if foreign companies started messing with a neutral state." She looked around absently. "If they try anything, it'll be at that shindig in Alexandria Wednesday night."

My hackles went up at that. "They'd better not! I invited Kala to that 'shindig' as my plus-one, and she hinted that Ziva'Lorah would be attending. If either one of them gets hurt because of any of these asshats, then consequences be damned; I'm fucking somebody up."

If I had any doubts this was an op, and not an actual sales pitch, they were removed by the advice Sarah gave me for the actual demo: "Ham it up, and take a poke at Devlon, Armax and Cerice every chance you get."

She had raised an eyebrow at the supplies I requested in return, but assured me they'd be available.

Which is how we ended up at the old Rheinmetall Proving Grounds in Ochsenboden Switzerland, with a half dozen mannequins made out of various melons and gourds wrapped in standard Systems Alliance armor and shields, courtesy of Devlon Industries.

I took a calming breath as I stood in front of the array of some of the most powerful people in the Systems Alliance, as well as several very powerful and wealthy individuals from the wider galaxy I had the dubious task of pissing off. I took another calming breath.

"Ladies, Gentlemen and visiting representatives, may I present to you the Melon Lord Honeydew the First and his House Gourd." There was some light chuckling from the crowd. "Lord Honeydew has many enemies, so he has equipped himself in the finest armor and shielding money can buy. He's a bit of a skinflint about everything else, so the House Gourd have to make do with Devlon Industries." The chuckling this time was not so sparse, including from Ms. K'Vant and Mr. Vestian. Mr. LeVoirsiere didn't seem nearly so impressed with my wit.

"Ms. K'Vant, if I may impose on you for a second?" She stood hesitantly at being called up. "I'd like to burrow one of your executive defense generators." She balked slightly, so I poured on the charm. "I promise to return it in as good of condition as you give it me; if I break it, I'll buy it. If it's undamaged once I'm done, then everyone will know it's worth."

"Very well, but I will hold you to your word." She unclipped a broad, curved plate hanging around her neck. "These are not inexpensive."

I took the device I was certain cost a year's salary with hazard pay. "A Gorget; how very baroque." I headed over to 'Lord Honeydew', attached and activated the barrier generator and headed back to the equipment table.

I gestured to where Sarah was readying a pistol to shoot at the 'targets'. "Now we are going to first demonstrate that these are indeed live shields with a standard Mass Driver pistol from Armax Arsenal, and..." I glanced at my tablet as if consulting something. "My apologies; this is actually an antique on loan to us from a private collection." I looked at the crowd and gave a chagrined smile. "I'm sure you can forgive me. It's an easy mistake to make, considering there have been no real innovations in Infantry weapons systems in nearly five centuries." I actually heard Vestian's mandibles buzz like a nest of angry hornets.

I nodded to Sarah, and she dutifully fired into the dummies, eliciting the familiar blue glow of infantry barriers.

"We, collectively," I gestured to include the entire audience, "have become complacent in technological design. We tell ourselves that there have been no new advancements, because there are none left to make. We accept a demonstrably inferior system," I motioned to Sarah and the pistol she was putting down next to several closed cases, "because until recently, no one has challenged us to consider any other options. We have all seen the reports, and complacency is no longer an option."

Sarah set down the antique and began opening the cases for the crowd to see. There were three weapons: a sleek but sizable pistol, an equally sleek submachine gun with a stock and foregrip, and a bullpup rifle. All were flat black and glossy white. She loaded each, then took the pistol to the firing line.

"We need to adapt."

She fired off three shots into the pumpkin 'head' of each 'House Gourd'. The exploded gourd setting off the neighboring dummy's K-barrier let the crowd know they were still running.

"We must innovate."

Sarah switched out to the submachine gun and fired a burst into each of the 'House Gourd's chest plates, causing the armor to shatter under the thermal impulsive shock. The K-Barriers never flickered except against the shrapnel.

"We must move out of the old models of thought regarding infantry equipment, or we will be left behind."

She finally took up the rifle. She fired a single shot into 'Lord Honeydew's head, which exploded spectacularly. She then fired several controlled bursts into the body of the dummy, blasting the remains into pieces. The crowd was absolutely silent.

Once she had cleared and safed the weapons, I walked over to the remnants of 'Lord Honeydew', and retrieved the Executive Barrier Generator. It was still humming and glowing when I turned around to show the crowd. I switched it off as I walked over to Ms. K'Vant, who stood stiffly. I pressed the device into her hand. "As I promised, not a scratch."

She was excellent at controlling her expression, but the shield flickered to life from the biotic energy she was emitting. At that, her eyes flashed in some emotion I could only guess at, since anger couldn't adequately describe it..

All in all, between the open hostility from the three corporate shills and the excited whispers from the rest of the crowd, I considered the demonstration to be a rousing success.

The Weapon's demo was, in my mind, a qualified success; mostly because I spent half my time fielding genuinely interested questions, and the other half with the three corporate players trying to glare me to death. I was hardly the only demonstration being put on, but the pitches by Devlon and Armax were both marred by my earlier, very intentional slights. I was very thankful that we had a day to just tour around the Alpine region before heading to Alexandria, Virginia for the formal presentation and gala event. An event I had no knowledge of before being deployed, and for which I had felt wholly unprepared.

I fidgeted with my Mess Dress coat. The row of awards was understandably small, but there were a number of badges I had to look up. There was also a single campaign flash under my Staff Sergeant's stripes. All in all, it seemed incongruous with the Joint SOCOM badge I was authorized to wear. It felt surreal. At least Capplan had come through on one uniform item I had requested.

"Is that a dead rodent hanging off your waist, or are you just happy to see me? And why are you wearing a skirt?"

I turned to face Kala, who had just come into the hotel ensuite bedroom wearing what I could best describe as liquid moonlight. "A little of both. And it's a Kilt, not a skirt." I brushed the green and blue Worsted wool panel, allowing the Joint SOCOM badge to thump against my knee. I walked up to her, admiring the holographically and Eezo enhanced dress. I imagined I'd have a better chance buying Ms. K'Vant's shield generator than the dress in front of me. "Is that what you're wearing, because I can't tell if you're actually wearing anything."

Kala gave me a smirk and a saucy pose. "Would you like to check?"

I was sorely tempted to, but I shook my head. "Not if we want to meet up with Ziva on time. You might be able to talk her off the ledge, but I've spent the better part of two days making enemies, I don't need any more this evening."

Kala gave a theatrical sigh. "Alright. If you're done preening, I suppose we can head out."

"One last thing." I pulled a subcompact version of the pistol Sarah and I had demonstrated earlier that week, as well as a spare magazine, and tucked them into a holster deep within the pleats of the kilt.

Kala looked at me with a little concern. "When you say you've been making enemies..."

I stood still, one hand clenched in a fist and the other open. I sighed in relief when she took my hand and pulled me into a hug. "We could just say you used your Asari wiles and bewitched me."

She gave me a squeeze, then stood back while holding my hand. "You'd never forgive yourself. Come on; I can't conspire with Ziva if we don't meet her in the lobby."

"Hiram! Kala! It is so good to see both of you!" Kala broke away and hugged Ziva, who was in the more formal Seemas than the regular Realk. The robe-like navy blue garment was patterned with silver leaves, not unlike the silk of a Japanese Kimono. Her eyes glowed warmly behind a sapphire mask.

She turned towards me and I assumed she smiled. I had gotten so used to the Travelers onboard the Spirit not wearing their masks. "Hello again Hiram." Her eyes flashed behind her mask, and this time I knew she was smiling; or at least smirking. "Nice knees."

I waved her off. "Oh, you don't have to sugar coat it. I'm pasty enough to be seen from orbit. I need to get some sun."

Kala rolled her eyes and came back over. "Alright, let's head to the banquet hall so we can start schmoozing and snacking." She pulled me along, with Ziva following in our wake.

As soon as we were past the weapons scanners (which didn't go off to my equal delight and concern) and inside the dining hall, Ziva begged off for a moment to talk to an elderly human in the Naval White Mess Dress of a Flag Officer.

Kala interrupted my question before I asked. "That's Commodore Hand; she's the Dean of the Biomedical Research Center at Walter Reed where Ziva's interning."

I nodded sagely while glancing around. Ziva's intent was clear now: if she was seen conversing with a Flag Officer, then nobody would dare question a 'Suit-Rat' being at an event like this. Even here on Earth, some of the galactic prejudices still crept in. This was especially prevalent when I caught sight of Matarius Vestian and Horay K'Vant. They were both looking with open, but silent disdain at Ziva. Their attention swiftly shifted to me. I gave them both a jaunty wave, and was rewarded when I saw sparks actually jump off of the Asari onto her Turian dining partner, who himself jumped in 'shock'. They both immediately stalked over to the open bar.

I felt a mild charge coming off of Kala and glanced over. She gave me a mildly concerned side-eye. "You weren't kidding about 'making enemies'. I haven't seen one of my own kind throw a tantrum like that since I was in primary school."

Ziva came up behind us and looked at the retreating Citadel business persons. "She's pretty. Making friends the GST way?"

I snorted and tightened my arm around Kala. "Coral Snakes are pretty, and I'd rather have one of those hanging off my arm than Ms. K'Vant." I shook my head and looked around. "Let's find our seats so we can hit the buffet before the speeches start."

Once seats were located and appetizer plates filled, we settled in to wait. "So," Ziva delicately sipped a tube of purified something, "What brings you back down to Earth, and might you have any idea when I can expect August?"

Kala put a hand over my plate to prevent me from dodging the conversation by stuffing my face.

I sighed and rested my hands on the table. "For the second question, I don't know. August's work is so far above my pay grade it's not even funny. I can pester him when I see or hear from him, but that's about it. As for the first," my face fell at the thought of the rest of Jawa in a Turian holding center or a C-Sec Cell while I was wining and dining. "My team's out of commission for the moment, so Command decided to send me back here to sell some of our tech ideas to the brass." I glanced at the table with DeVoirsiere, K'Vant and Vestian. "It just so happens that those ideas are going to turn a lot of tactics, strategies and logistics on their heads, so the major arms companies are up in arms about it."

Kala jabbed me in the ribs while Ziva gave me the, 'don't fib to your mamma' look. I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Maybe I was also under orders to stir the pot and make them look bad. Not that it took a lot. Can I have my Lox now, please?" Kala relented and took her hand away from my plate.

"So this is a... working vacation?" I could hear the special emphasis in Ziva's voice. Apparently, so could Kala who immediately shot a worried look at Ziva, and an accusing one at me. Ziva winced slightly. "Don't go blaming him. You know what their work is like."

Kala's glare intensified slightly. "This isn't 'angry' Kala; this is 'suddenly scared for her friends' Kala." Her eyes turned back towards the business table. "How scared should I be?"

"I don't know, so I'm going with Illium scared until the night's over."

We spent the evening trying to enjoy the meal while maintaining a sense of caution about our surroundings. I almost believed we were going to make it through the night without turning the Westin into the lobby scene from "The Matrix", when Kala tensed up during an award presentation. Her eyes flicked to a group of people in hotel staff uniforms moving covered carts to the room's perimeter. I surreptitiously activated my coat's Omnisleeve and sent a general distress signal to my support team, and quickly got a ping in return.

I took a glance at K'Vant's table, and saw they had tensed up as well, though they were pointedly not looking at any of the suspicious characters. My hand drifted to where I had my pistol stashed. "No sudden reactions; I've sent a signal to my support, and they confirmed. No retaliation unless they pose an immediate threat to life."

Kala and Ziva both evened out their breathing and Kala leaned in a little. "Right, nothing to fear; we're in a room filled with military types and weapons dealers."

Ziva's vox gave a soft blat. "We're in a room filled with administrators and flag officers, most of whom haven't held a weapon in decades."

Kala shot her a look and hissed, "Don't go popping my soap bubble!"

We all tensed at once as the perimeter group all got behind their carts. "When it starts, head for K'Vant's table."

"Why," Ziva asked sourly, "because they'll protect us?"

"In a way," everyone stood to give an ovation to the recipient, "she has at least two personal shield generators worth an Ivy League tuition a piece on her." We all shifted to better make the sprint.

The group all drew submachine guns; conventional rather than Eezo based, and half fired into the ceiling while the others leveled their weapons on the crowd. We bolted low and fast, arriving at our table of choice as the leader of the gunmen began yelling.

"Alright! I think everyone here knows how this works!" He thumped his fist to his chest, causing a K-Barrier to spring to life. "Everyone on the ground, valuables out where my associates can collect them. Some of you will be selected as hostages to secure our departure." I had a sneaking suspicion who would be taken. "As long as nobody tries any heroics," he panned his weapon towards a furious looking retired Marine with enough awards to open a surplus store, "then nobody gets hurt. So put on your big-boy pants and be grownups about this."

Ms. K'Vant was just laying down when she noticed me, Kala and Ziva. She almost choked and started to turn the strangest color of purple, just as the spokesman came up to us while the rest of the thugs moved through the crowd. "Alright you lot are our lucky winners tonight. Get up."

We all stood up. I kept my hands visible, but low. The spokesman was about to speak again when he noticed my group. "Who the fuck are you?"

I was torn for a moment between snark to buy time, and compliance to keep from giving Lee an excuse to skin me alive when Francois piped up. "He's with the Laser design team! They'll pay a lot to get him back!"

I was sorely tempted in that moment to waste a shot on him, but I saw the wheels turning in the spokesman's mind. More importantly, I didn't hear him tell a potential hostage to keep quiet.

"Laser development team, eh? Maybe I'll keep you for myself."

I scowled at Francois and the thug. "What, you want me to make you guns? Maybe give you a demonstration?"

He sneered and stepped forward, pointing his sub-gun up towards my chin. "Yeah, something like-"

I pushed the gun flat against his chest, drew my subcompact and shot him in the gut.

When Sarah and I had designed the various weapons, the Subcompact had been designed with personal defense in mind, As such, stopping power and concealability were it's highest priorities. The trade off was range and magazine size. What we ended up with was a pistol with a ten meter range and a seven shot magazine, but hit as hard as the rifle we had built.

I kept myself pinned to the now dying thug, and began firing at the nearest gunmen. They proved to be relatively professional, and began an orderly retreat while firing on me. That was when I leaned Ziva also smuggled a gun in as a .45 ACP casing bounced off my head. Ziva and I had succeeded in clearing the nearest thugs when one of the chandeliers broke loose and began spinning and coming apart. I saw Kala glowing behind me.

"Honey, you're studying to be a Doctor now; do no harm!"

"Shut up dear; I'm triaging!"

The various crystals were now glowing as they spun around until she began launching them at various gunmen. They didn't have enough energy to punch through their barriers, but several were powerful enough to knock the gunmen over. By this point, the various 'Administrators' and 'Staff Officers' had rallied enough to start grabbing fallen weapons and driving the attackers the rest of the way out, right into a mixed police and GST response team.

I started to feel the adrenalin crash when Kala screamed, then Ziva screamed. I spun around to see what the shills had done, which proved the wrong thing to do. I finished a full 360 degree spin before collapsing to the floor. "What the..." It felt like the room was still spinning. My hand came up from my side covered in blood. "Huh, where'd this come from?."

"Shut up you Bosh'tet! You've been shot! Kala, help me..." Whatever else was said went over me as I finally finished falling to the floor. It was funny; I didn't even feel it.

Beep

Beep

Beep

It was an annoying sound, and one I felt like I'd heard for ages. I started to open my eyes, when it sounded like every person I had ever known in both lives all started yelling at me at once.

"Noise, bad! Light, bad!"

Memories came rushing back, including Ziva's declaration I had been shot. I was doubly reminded when Kala latched onto me. "I feel it now! Ow!"

She let go and hopped back wide eyed. I reached for one of her hands which she gladly gave. She punched me in the shoulder with the other. "Goddess damned bastard! I told you never to scare me like that again!"

I smiled up at her. "It's not like I tried to scare you. What happened anyway? I vaguely remember Ziva calling me a Bosh'tet, but not why."

"Three sharp-force penetrating wounds to the abdomen, one of which perforated your liver." I glanced over to the door and saw Ziva walk in. "Apparently the barrier of the goon you were using as a meat shield gave out part way through the fire fight. Fun fact: mass effect weapons carry trace amounts of Eezo with them, so we had to go looking for metallic sand grains before you developed every form of cancer, ever."

I scrunched up my nose. "There's a history of Leukemia in my family." Ziva nodded and made a note while Kala looked worried. "So my spleen is okay?" Ziva and Kala gave me a puzzled look. "I teased August about 'venting his spleen' back on Illium." I gave a rather dopey smile. "We could be Spleen-buddies!"

Kala looked uncertainly at Ziva. "Is...he okay."

Ziva chuckled and put up her tablet. "He's just on a pretty heavy Opioid pain regime right now, to keep him docile until his liver finishes healing."

"I'm sooooo stoooooooned." I started to think of something else, then a thought occurred to me. "Ooh! Ooh! Holographic Dark Side of Oz!"

Kala looked no less worried, but I was sure that would pass once she had witnessed the greatest accidental music video of all time. Thankfully, Ziva knew what I was talking about. I made it all the way through the synced music before passing out again.

The next time I woke up, I wasn't nearly so loopy, and my gut was kicking my ass. That somehow summoned WS-1 Capplan.

"Hey there soldier boy; how are you holding up?" She looked okay, but she had pretty bad bags under her eyes.

I chuckled, and immediately regretted it. "Oh, you know; milking my first ever 'Red Badge of Courage' for as much sympathy as possible."

She relaxed a lot at that, and sat down next to the bed. "This isn't your fault." Her head came up in surprise. "I'm the one that picked a firefight with half a PMC. Given how fast you were on scene, I probably could have just been a snarky asshole for another five minutes. Then, all I'd have had to show for the evening would be some more bruises."

She seemed ready to argue some more, so I went with the nuclear option. "When Lee finds out Ziva got caught up in a firefight, do you want him looking for answers from you or from me?"

She blanched slightly and wiped her hands. "Done. I'll still back you up, since this Op was sprung on you at the last minute."

I nodded sagely, even as I knew Lee was going to freak out. "So did we get anything out of this Shirt-Cuff operation?" I looked around. "Well, anything you can talk about here. Where is here anyway?"

"Walter Reed Medical Center in Bethesda. You're hooked up to the only monitoring gear in the room, and most of the Nurses here have higher clearances than either of us." I snorted, then settled in.

She brought up a file on her Omnisleeve. "Well, first was the actual 'strike team' at the Westin. They're all from 'Ingersoll Tactical Solutions', which is, or was, underwritten by Devlon Industries. Specifically, LaVoisier had a controlling interest in the company."

I chuffed a laugh, then regretted it. "That seems kinda amateure hour to me."

Sarah frowned. "The bosses at Devlon seem to agree. They dumped Ingersol and openly disavowed it's employees, and recalled Francios. He was involved in a 'freak mid-air collision'," she air-quoted, "on his way to the branch offices in Dulles."

I frowned at that. "Isn't that how August's family died, right around the time Lee the Elder was rattling cages?" Sarah was brought up short. "We might want to shake that tree a little harder. What about the Gruesome Twosome?"

"Also recalled back to Citadel space, but no 'unfortunate accidents' I've heard about. But they weren't the only ones to make a hasty exit." She brought up a star map. "A second team we think was the remainder of Ingersoll hit the test weapons cache and made off with the crates and trackers. We got pings at the Sol and Arcturus relays, though the new navigation tracking center saw they made a stop in the middle of the Arcturus system. A second ship crossed that exact spot three hours later and remained on station for five minutes before departing." The map showed two blips moving different directions. "The Ingersoll ship headed to the Attican Beta Relay and is remaining on course to Illium. The second was a Volus Freetrader and transferred through Shanxi-Theta and is bound for Manae with the trackers aboard."

She closed the files. "We have teams ready to intercept both ships while still in transit. Bullet wounds and impending ass whoopings not withstanding, this was a good op."

I gave her a flat look and waved a tired arm. "Yay."

"No seriously, you did good; thinking on your feet, spotting the threat, all of it. Have you ever thought about transferring to the Case Officer's division?"

I shook my head. "First, Kala spotted the bad guys; I just phoned it in. And second, I'm not giving up the Space-Cadet gig; certainly not until we get the rest of Jawa back."

Sarah leaned in and looked me dead in the eye. "Part of being a good Case Officer is knowing who to put where, and when to trust them to run with it. Another, is spotting the little details in bigger pictures. Besides," she stood up, "it's not necessarily an 'either/or' job. Think about it."

I watched her leave the hospital room, and wondered about how many layers there really were to the GST.