She hit him, aiming for his kidneys. Just enough to get him off her. But it was no use; the Oracle had taken over. The programming all Tholosians had hardwired into their brains since birth was bad enough, but the chip at the base of his skull gave the AI control over his body’s motor functions.

He was so far gone, he might never come back. Shorted out into what the Tholosians called gerulae. Mindless servants. Human drones.

Eris edged the knife out of her wrist sheath and struck. She aimed for his arm, and shoved him hard enough to knock him on his back. “Captain? Captain, come on. You’ve got to fight through the—”

“In His name,” he murmured, grasping the hilt of the blade. He yanked it out of his arm in a single move.

“Captain—” Eris scrambled to her feet.

“I give my body.”

The captain slit his own throat.

Eris stopped short, shutting her eyes at the sight. “Fuck,” she breathed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She reached into her pocket, closed her fingers around her small animal figurine. The weight of it helped her breathe. But it was a poor replacement for the man who had given it to her.

<Eris?> Sher’s voice came through the Pathos. <Is it done?>

She closed herself off to feelings. There was no place in her line of work to mourn the dead. There was only this: small moments after a mission. Taking stock. A quiet moment to tally up her kills.

Even the ones she’d intended to save. Or the ones she’d given quick deaths.

Did the captain count?

<Yeah,> she told Sher, trying to keep her inner voice light even as a heavy weight settled in her chest. Guilt had become too familiar. <Tell Kyla I beat my personal best for a ship this size.>

<Well done,> he said. <Now report back to Nova. Kyla will brief you on the way.>

<Fine. Be there as soon as I can.>

She pulled out of the call, stepped over the captain’s body, and entered a command into the ship’s computer. She might have killed to take the ship for supplies, but sacrificing the few to save the many was the way of the resistance. It was sure as shit more merciful of an end than those the Empire gave. The ship’s survivors would have the chips at the base of their skulls removed and be deprogrammed of the Oracle’s influence. They’d be given another chance on Nova. And who survived was simply the luck of the draw.

The God of Death did not have favorites. He simply took.

Eris locked the other soldiers in and directed the ship back to Nova headquarters. Maybe some of the soldiers would be freed of the Oracle’s programming and could be turned to the cause. Most would fail, and she was delivering them to their death.