Unless I can do something to change their minds. I pause at the bottom of the stairwell and pull the vial out of my pocket, watching the omni-colored shimmer swirl inside. Looking at it makes me feel queasy. Of course it had to be alien shit.

On our journey here, I thought about stealing a peek at what we were carrying, but my plans were always cut short when it came to opening up those damn crates. When I retrieved them for Momma here, I realized she must have some contingency plan, some way for another family member to open the crates if something happened to her. And of course she’d choose Corvus.

So, of all the stars-damned numbers in the galaxy, Momma chose Corvus’s military identification numbers. The same digits tattooed on his wrist. I might laugh if not for the bitter jealousy filling my stomach.

I push the vial back into my pocket and compose myself before I enter the lobby, plastering on a smile as I approach the bored-looking young man behind the front desk.

“Hi,” I say, placing my palms on the desk and leaning over. “I’m here with Captain Kaiser. I’m supposed to go talk to…”

I pause, recalling Altair’s words. “If you wanted to sell bullshit, you should have gone to Ives.”

“General Ives?” I guess. “Where can I find them?”

He glances up at me briefly before dropping his eyes again, fiddling with a comm even more outdated than the one I carry.

“Recruitment center, probably,” he says, and taps away at his screen.

“Right. Thanks.”

Outside, I take a deep breath of the cold city air and break into a smile, pushing thoughts of Corvus and my mother far from my mind. If this vial is as powerful as Momma claims it is, I’ll be able to make a hell of a lot of credits off of it. Enough credits to be able to support myself and my younger siblings. If I can get back to them before Momma and Corvus do, maybe I can use that to win them over before Corvus steals their hearts, too. I can give them a choice, and make one for myself as well, rather than being completely at Momma’s mercy.

Part of me loathes the thought of carrying this vial, let alone selling it to someone without knowing what it does. But this is my last chance to control my own fate, and I have to take it.

I don’t know Drev Dravaask well, but the recruitment center is the easiest place in the whole city to locate. I follow a trail of bold neon signs and obnoxious posters right up to its steps. FIGHT FOR YOUR PLANET, one banner declares, with an image of a standard-issue pulse rifle. FOR HEART, FOR HOMELAND, another reads, depicting a beautiful young woman with her fingers over her heart and her eyes turned skyward.