Pei said nothing for a moment. “Kizzy, I am scared of everything, all the time. I’m scared of my ship getting shot down when I have to land planetside. I’m scared of the armor in my vest cracking during a fight. I’m scared that the next time I have to pull out my gun, the other guy will be faster. I’m scared of making mistakes that could hurt my crew. I’m scared of leaky biosuits. I’m scared of vegetables that haven’t been washed properly. I’m scared of fish.”

“I see.” Ashby blinked again. “Why are we doing this?”

“Because some jackass dumped them all over the floor, and they have to be cleaned up. And if they have to be cleaned up, we might as well sort them while we’re at it.” Jenks sat down, leaning comfortably against a planter. He began to pick through the bolts. “See, my best friend in the whole galaxy is currently on another ship, holed up in a wall, disarming hackjob explosives. It’s dark in there, and her fingers are probably sore by now, after tugging at all those little wires, and I’m shitting myself over the possibility of something going wrong, because I seriously do not know what I would do without her. And I can’t help. I can’t do anything. Not one damn thing. I know she’s the best person for this, and I know she doesn’t need my help. But all the same, she’s facing some dangerous shit, and it is completely out of my hands. I want to do something , and it’s driving me fucking crazy that I can’t. I can’t even smoke because there are Aeluons around. So, fine. I’m going to sort bolts.” He swung his eyes up to Ashby. “And I think anybody who has similar feelings should join me.”

The trappings of a bureaucrat trying to pretend he had the same clout as the powerful species around him.

“…People change feather families whenever they need to, and people need different things at different times in their lives. It’s almost unheard of for an Aandrisk to stay with the same people their entire life…”