Nyx knew they did. She had been the best example of her cohort, and they had all been hailed a triumph of genetic engineering. Each militus cohort had similar features—thirty different variants that made some look like siblings and others identical copies. Each was given a number before going into training that would serve as their identity. If they survived, they were named. A name was the first badge a soldier ever earned.

For Nyx, her name was special. They told her it meant night and darkness.

“You want to tell me who you really are and how you claim to be able to contact the Novantae?” Nyx didn’t ask; she commanded. For she had earned her name and the reputation that went with it.

“Pirates,” Curly Hair drawled. “Like I said. Natural-born escaped from the slums.”

Nyx slid the safety off her Mors. In the quiet command center, that muffled click seemed as loud as Morsfire. “I might believe that about your friend, but not you. So, try that answer again, soldier. I’ll give you five seconds.”

“Nyx.” The sharp warning came from Rhea.

But Nyx didn’t care. They weren’t safe out there in Tholosian territory. Flames, they weren’t safe the moment they decided to flee the palace. “Five.”

Ariadne spoke softly from behind her. “Nyx, maybe we should just—”

“Four. Three.”

Curly Hair’s hand tightened around her blaster, but she stayed quiet. She wanted a proper duel? Fine. Let them see who shot faster.

“Two. O—”

“All right.” Buzz Cut stepped in front of Nyx’s Mors. “Don’t shoot. I’m Clo. Mechanic and pilot for the resistance. This is—”

“Godsdamn it, Clo,” the smaller woman hissed. “I had it handled.”

“Killing three women isn’t handling it.” At Clo’s blunt response, the other woman’s lips flattened. “Yeah, you don’t even deny it. We both promised not to kill anyone on this mission, remember? You already broke that vow once.”

Curly Hair’s eyes slid shut briefly. “Fuck,” she muttered. She took her hand off the blaster and addressed Nyx, Rhea, and Ariadne. “I’m Eris, formerly of the Tholosian military. The two of us were on a reconnaissance mission for the Novantae and I got trapped on your ship. My partner flew in after me.”

Nyx scoffed. “No backup? So, you just walked into the hangar on Myndalia? I find that hard to believe.”

Clo flashed her a smile. “We did, in fact.” She gestured to Nyx’s gun, which she hadn’t yet lowered. “Are you going to put away your Mors or not?”

“Not,” Nyx said. “Just because you made me pause my five count doesn’t mean I believe you. Prove you’re Novantae and I’ll consider forgetting where I left off.”