Surit took a breath. That had been a dangerous moment. Falling into someone else’s body for a handful of seconds might be less terrifying than, say, seeing your soldier—your reader—your friend—spread out like a micron-thin layer of plasma across the void of the stars and disintegrate, but it wasn’t pleasant. He tried building a wall between them again. It was harder this time, like piling up sand in a stream.

Still, Tennal felt it. What are you doing? Tennal said into his head, sharp and nervous.

We’re still spiraling into the sync, Surit pointed out. I’m trying to stop us.

He felt reluctant agreement from Tennal and a spike of fear. Tennal could feel it as much as he could: the end result of whatever was happening in their heads wasn’t one they’d both survive in a recognizable state. They had to keep it stable, and one thing Tennal had never managed was stability. And that wasn’t the only thing Tennal was afraid of.

If we break this sync, you die, Tennal said.

Surit acknowledged that with a brief mental nod. He pushed himself away from Tennal and took a seat by the console. I’m not planning to die.

“Show me our ship’s position,” Surit said aloud.

Istara and Basavi exchanged dubious glances, but Basavi laid out the map across the whole pilot’s console, a light-screen that covered two terminals. “Here, Lieutenant. It’s not to scale.”

Tennal tapped the edge of the sloped bank of metal the screens covered. “It’s changed since we were last here.”

“It’s chaotic space,” Istara said. “It changes all the time. Ignore him, sir. We think we’ve got a rough fix on where the lab might have drifted to.”

“How long?” Surit said.

“I—” Tennal hesitated and looked to Istara.

Istara traded glances with him. “Depends on the next jump,” they said. They saw Surit’s mild incomprehension and pointed at the part of the map that looked most like two primary school children scribbling on a wall. “Halkana’s creepy ability to fling his mind into space—”

“—my great reading skills—”

“—combined with someone who has actual, you know, piloting education, means we can get through narrow folds of space without the ship distorting. Hopefully. The sensors found some possible ways through. It’s shifting behind us as well. If one of the new passages stays open, we could get out much faster than we came in.”

Movement flickered in the corner of Surit’s eye: the ranker covering the comms station had just sat up straight. Comms were unpredictable in chaotic space and came in queued packets, often bundled together. A second later a ping came to the command channel.

Basavi scooped it up. “Compressed burst,” she said, after a moment.