The others in the boarding party were all business. Bulked out with armour, helmeted faces unreadable, silently checking their weapons and strapping in. Except for maybe a trillion roubles in prototype equipment, we were exactly the same.

The heads-up display listed their service records, name, rank – irrelevant details. Instead, I paid attention to their motions: the quick smooth way that their hands moved. Muscle memory I was still only beginning to learn, but that they had perfected.

There were no questions, no chatter. In a rare moment of clarity I looked at the heavy assault weapon in my hands and wondered at how quickly they had turned me into one of them.

“This -” Hart had gestured at the armour, " and you -" he’d motioned at me, “are one of the last hopes for peace on the colonies. We can’t fight conventionally against them and they know it. We need to show them what they’re dealing with, avoid a war, and save everybody’s lives in the process.”

He didn’t believe it. I could see it in his eyes.