I don’t like this. Neither does Lyre, but she doesn’t look eager to speak up, either. At least the twins look pleased with the plan, each of them grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the fight. Still, I notice Drom rubbing an old scar on her left forearm. She got the ugly, circular mark during a previous fight with the pirates, shortly after Corvus left, when we were still getting used to his absence. I still remember the way she screamed and Pol cried, the blood soaking the med bay, Momma muttering about her possibly losing the arm. When Drom notices me looking, she stops and scowls at me.

“Any questions?” Momma asks, in a tone that seems to strongly advise against the idea.

“Where are you gonna be?” I ask despite that, realizing she left herself out of the plan she laid out. As usual, she looks at me like I just blurted out the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

“With the cargo. Where else?”

A cheeky reply rises on the back of my tongue—I dunno, maybe helping carry out your own insane plan?—but I bite it back. Momma’s right, it was a stupid question, one I should’ve known the answer to before I asked it. Time and time again, she’s made her priorities clear, and this is no different.

“Got it, Captain,” I say with false cheeriness, and accompany the words with an over-the-top Titan salute, pressing two fingers to my heart. I realize a moment too late that it’s probably in bad taste, considering where we’re headed and all, but I don’t think she even notices me. She’s already taking her position behind the cargo, crouching behind one of the metal boxes. She pulls out a heavy-duty, Titan-issue pulse rifle, resting its barrel on the top of the crate in front of her.

I sway on my feet as the floor rocks beneath me. That must be our ship making contact with the Red Baron. We’ve been through this enough times that I know what to expect. It’s illegal to outfit ships with weapons, and no planet will let you land with them, but the Red Baron has found a technically legal way to launch an assault with those magnetic grappling hooks. They’ll keep us pinned to their side and hack our security pad to force the ramp open directly into their ship’s loading zone, leaving our cargo bay vulnerable and waiting to be plundered.