Alroy hadn't so much as given Miyoko the time of day since their clash in the debriefing, nor any visible sign of acknowledging her hostility other than wearing his sidearm on his hip openly instead of concealed in a shoulder holster. His other arrangements - wrist sheathes, pocket knife, and spring-loaded boot blades - stayed the same, but the only one of those anyone could easily spot would be the hip knife, and he'd worn that ever since joining up. If she wanted to flaunt her heritage, that was her business - not his concern until she came after him.<br/><br/>Hiro, on the other hand, had turned out to be somewhat of a pleasant surprise. Their 'honor duel' in the sparring ring had ended rather ignominiously for both sides, and none of the observers had been certain exactly whose punch landed first, but under the cocky exterior the other pilot was proving to be more palatable company than he'd first let on. Alroy hadn't shared his own history, nor learned much of Hiro's, but their opinions appeared to be aligned on the topic of certain Kuritan customs, and people who acted like Miyoko.<br/><br/>But that was off the battlefield. Here, he had a job to do. Across the internal Assault Lance circuit, he complained cheerfully. "You never let me have any fun, Erich. The featherweights get to go play tag with an Atlas, and we're stuck here blowing the legs off Cataphracts all day?"