Sher and Kyla had called them earlier to help cement the bones of their paltry plan on the most encrypted channel Ariadne could muster. The commanders had agreed to come, leaving a few of their subordinates in charge to oversee operations. With the truce ceremony so close, no one questioned why two Novan leaders would need to go dark for a few days. The rest of the Nova crew were distracted by dust storms, gritty and thick on the surface of their hidden planet. It was all hands on deck to keep the resistance colony powered.

“Then it confirms Damocles is plotting a coup against the Archon,” Rhea murmured, shutting off the vid-screens. “And that he controls the Oracle. One would have alerted his father otherwise.”

The light from the command buttons played across Clo’s face and the buzz of her hair, the tiny scars on the backs of her fingers from countless hours taking apart engines and putting them back together again. Those hands had stolen to be able to eat, held weapons, caressed Rhea’s face. Rhea found herself wanting to trace every scar with her own soft fingertips, bring them to her lips, and kiss away the remembered ghosts of pain.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Clo asked, her voice tight as her fingers danced along the controls.

“I don’t know,” Rhea said. “If Ariadne can block off the comms like she says, then there’s a chance. I just don’t like that I’m going to have to feel it all.”

Clo’s hand came off the control, hesitantly reaching for Rhea. Rhea closed the distance and laced her fingers through Clo’s. She felt the warmth flow from the other woman and her cheeks warmed in response; Clo felt so . . . alive. Unfettered.

“They’ll nae like it, but we have to do this for Eris and all those people on Laguna. It’s only temporary.”

Rhea nodded.

A message from Sher came through the comms. He’d be in their quadrant in an hour and Kyla in three. Clo sent a message back to him, telling him they were an hour and a half away from their target.

<You know what to do if I can’t get there in time,> he sent back. <I trust you.>

“Wish I had the same faith,” Clo muttered. “Without Eris here, I’m so ’fraid of sluicing this up.” She let out a dry laugh. “Can’t believe I’m saying that, after all the shite I gave her.”

Rhea squeezed her hand.

Zelus picked up speed, weaving through the sky. Clo looked most at home there in the pilot’s seat, eyes on the darkness of space, hands moving in that perfect dance. Rhea watched her and knew fighting was not Clo’s true calling. Not war. She liked things to work, to fit. To come alive.

Clo’s true calling was to fix what was broken.