“Project Harpy.” Ariadne fiddled with the hem of her uniform. “We’ll need a few supplies if we build it. I’ll send the list over with the specs. Um.” She wrung her hands. “I’ll need Evoli DNA, too. For the weapon.”

“Okay.” Eris had never heard Kyla sound so tense. “I’ll send an unmanned craft with the supplies and the DNA. It’ll get there before you make it to the Three Sisters.”

“Kyla?” Eris was exhausted and this mission hadn’t even begun.

“Yeah?”

“You owe me.” She turned off the transmission.

“So,” Rhea said, coming through the door of the command center. “How bad is it?” At everyone’s stare, she shrugged. “Apologies for the eavesdropping. Occupational hazard.”

“It’s bad,” Eris said tightly. She considered Rhea for a moment. “Did you pack any other gowns?”

Rhea hesitated, bemused. “Just one, if you can call it that. More would have been waiting for me at the Legate’s residence.”

“Fine. Cosmetics?”

Even more puzzled, Rhea said, “Some.”

“Good. Get them for me.” She tapped the button for the intercom, her voice booming across the ship: “Nyx, grab me one of your spare uniforms and pile it outside my door.” Before leaving the command center, she looked at Ariadne and Clo. “Finish up that weapon. And for the love of the gods, don’t let them replicate it.”

—

Eris made a face as she picked up Rhea’s dress. The fabric was soft as water and just as transparent.

The real Zoe Eirene-X-2 had been born into a merchant aedifex cohort, and at the time of her death had established influence well beyond the humble origins of her siblings. Eris had studied every detail about her. She was the same height and build as Eris, which made transitioning into Zoe so easy. All it took was a facial and hair shifter.

Zoe, both real and false, lacked the sophisticated air of someone who had grown up surrounded by politics and spent years learning the proper ways to walk, talk, and hold herself. Rather, she had put on a show of pretending to know these things—but there were just enough cracks in her performance to betray the falsehood.

Zoe’s smile was a bit too easy. The clothes she wore were a mix of professional and too revealing. She spoke too fast, with a hint of overly practiced refinement. Despite having no practical combat experience, soldiers liked Zoe because she smoked and drank with the best of them. Eris had kept that aspect of Zoe’s identity because it made them more willing to talk to her, to trust her.

Last time, Eris thought to herself. Then Eris would let Zoe’s name join her body in the fires of Avern.

“Why me?” she muttered to herself as she held up Rhea’s dress. Well, dress was too generous a word. It was glittery and didn’t even include strategic covering.