Lyre, of course, looks amazing. She always goes all out for her home-planet. She insists it’s a matter of practicality and keeping a good reputation here, but I suspect she enjoys it more than she lets on. Her face is painted with decadent gold, her body wrapped in a complicated dress made from multiple pieces of colorful fabric.

“So do we have a plan?” Drom asks, once Lyre is done with her makeup. She reaches a hand up to itch her face, only for Lyre to slap it down again.

I swallow, trying to shake off my nerves. Though my siblings support me, and I’ve taken charge of the family for now, my grip on leadership is precarious at best. Worse yet, I’m nowhere near as confident in this plan as I’m trying to pretend I am. Part of me fears that Corvus is right, and getting involved with Leonis will only result in disaster.

She’s a monster that manipulated us into killing an entire planet. The thought of making a deal with her turns my stomach, too. But as I tried to explain to him, we don’t have any other options. And if Momma were here, she’d find a way to save our family, no matter what it took. No one ever ended up dead or infected with some alien disease on her watch. Now taking care of my siblings is my job, and I’m not going to let them down, even if it means making choices that rip me apart inside.

So I’ll make a deal with a monster if I must. I’m not going to let my conscience get in the way this time, like it did with Ives. If I hadn’t failed then, we might have more options now.

“We’re heading to an off-worlder-friendly bar Momma used to frequent,” I say. “We’ll watch the council meeting there, see how it goes, pay attention to what any other interplanetary visitors have to say. If suspicion falls on Leonis, she’ll get desperate. Make our job easier.” Or it might make Corvus’s plan more viable, but I hurry on before he gets a chance to speak up. “After that, we look for an opportunity to speak to Leonis alone. If we don’t get one, we’ll have to force something. Then we threaten her with what we have.”