“Or he can go out the airlock with all the rest,” Nyx pointed out.

“Do I get a choice in this?” the pilot asked.

Eris raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have a choice in anything. You’re a programmed puppet.”

“First of all,” he said, “I’m not a puppet. Second of all—”

“Let me guess, you’re not brainwashed?”

“Fuck you.”

“Not interested.”

“Excuse me,” Clo said, snapping her fingers between Eris and the pilot. “I agree with Nyx that he’s a liability.”

“Of course you do.” Eris’s lip curled. “You don’t believe people can ever change.”

The edge in her voice made the room go silent. Clo’s mouth moved, as if holding back the words. The curiosity from Rhea, Ariadne, and Nyx was so strong, it was as though Eris could taste it at the back of her throat.

“Oookay,” Ariadne said, extra cheerful. “Hm. This is awkward. So, let’s just clear something up first.” She looked at the pilot. “Hey there, sir. Are you loyal to the Tholosians no matter what they do to you and the rest of the galaxy, and are you willing to die for that belief?”

His eyes glazed again. “In His name.” Yet his body tensed, as if fighting the words. His back arched, mouth moving soundlessly.

And he fainted.

“That’ll be a yes, then,” Ariadne said.

Rhea put a hand to his head. “His fever is bad. Make a decision. Heal or kill?”

“My opinion remains the same,” Nyx said. “He’s everything that’s wrong with the Empire. Did you see the way he looked at us? He wants to string us up and gut us one by one. He’d march into that palace, wearing our entrails as a scarf, all to get some stupid gold button for his jacket.”

Rhea winced at that mental image. “That’s his programming, Nyx.”

“No shit. You could heal him and he’d still try to slit your throat the first chance he gets.”

“True,” Rhea said, ruefully. She looked down at his prone form. “But I feel like we’ve killed enough for a lifetime, don’t you?”

“Before this is over with, more will end up dying,” Clo muttered. At Rhea’s expression, Clo sighed. “Directly or indirectly, this is going to result in death, Rhea. It might be better to turn off our conscience for a while. If only it were that easy.” She gave a pointed glance at Eris. The barb landed.

“Ariadne,” Eris focused on her. “You haven’t given your opinion.”

Ariadne blinked, sputtered. “I—” Her mouth snapped closed.

“That’s an ‘I have no idea,’ then,” Clo said.