As we enter the landing zone, we pass by a group of Nibirans who seem in a rush to leave the planet. Given the hostility of that interplanetary meeting, I can’t say I blame them. The peacekeepers around the delegates eye us warily as we draw near, though the two robed council members don’t spare us so much as a glance, caught up in what seems to be a quiet but heated argument among themselves. I recognize Oshiro, who looks as angry as they did during the meeting. I could try to approach them now, but I don’t have the energy. And I suspect it’s too late anyway. Scorpia has already done whatever she decided to do. I’ve failed.

Back at the ship, Scorpia waits on the open ramp, her face stony. The emotionless mask flickers for a moment when she sees my bruised face, but it quickly returns. We pause at the bottom of the ramp, and I stare up at her. There’s something different. Something cold and shut-off in her expression.

“What the hell happened?” she asks, looking from me, to Lyre, to Drom. To my surprise, neither of them offer an answer. I glance sideways at Lyre, who was so glad to berate me on the entire trip over, but she stares down at the ground with her lips pressed together. Scorpia sighs. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I handled everything on my own.”

“Handled?” I ask. A moment later, a small group of people approach from behind us and head into the cargo bay, carrying heavy metal crates. I stand up straighter, bristling as I recognize the white uniforms they’re wearing. Gaians. Bringing cargo on board our ship. “What’s going on?”

I start to head up the ramp, but Scorpia blocks my path.

“As I said, I handled everything.” She glances behind me at our sisters. “Great news, everyone,” she says, though her tone remains flat and hollow. “We’ve got a job.”

My stomach drops. It can’t be. She couldn’t have done what I think she did. The thought of her blackmailing Leonis to cooperate was bad enough, but surely she didn’t stoop so low as to work for her.

“What do you mean, a job?” Lyre asks. Even she looks hesitant.

Before Scorpia can respond, Drom shoves past us, bounding up the ramp and into the cargo bay.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she shouts. I step forward as I see the group of Gaians wheeling the cryosleep chamber toward the ramp. Drom gets in their way, her hands clenched into fists and her face twisted in fury.

“Whoa, whoa,” Scorpia says, rushing over to get between her and the Gaians, who have all taken a step back. “Hey, it’s okay, Drom. We talked about this. They’re going to help Pol. They’re going to take him to Gaia and save him, all right?”