Their boots pounded across the metal walkway that led to the docking bay. Just down the long hallway, the doors opened, and Kyla strode through. Their commander was all business, as usual: hands clasped behind her back, a steely no-nonsense glint in her eye.

“Status update,” Kyla said when she reached Clo and Eris.

Clo crossed her arms. “We’re really confused, for a start.”

“Cloelia, I’m not in the mood. My current level of patience is hovering around zero. If it dips any lower, I will put you on septic duty at Nova and you can clean up everyone’s shit for the foreseeable future.” Kyla looked at Eris. “Eris, update.”

Eris barely suppressed a grimace. “I’ll start with the bad news.”

“Good approach. Improve my mood from there.”

“There are three women still on board Zelus. They claim to be refugees fleeing the Empire and they want the Novantae’s protection.” At Kyla’s intense expression, Eris added, “One of them murdered the entire crew, including the Legate.”

Kyla’s lips thinned. “So, what you’re telling me is that my original assessment was an understatement. This is an astronomical fuck-up.”

“Hey,” Clo said defensively. “This isn’t our fault. The crew was dead when we boarded.”

“You shouldn’t be on this ship. You—” Kyla inhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who are they and why are they running?”

“I don’t know,” Eris said. She gestured for them to follow her back to the command center. “They’re each valuable to the Archon for their specific skills: military leader, engineer, courtesan. They claim they’ve planned for almost a year to escape and join the Novantae. Before we took them to Nova, we figured we’d call you.” She let Kyla through the door of the command center first. “As for the cargo you asked me to gain intel on, that’s just as much a mystery. You have to see it.”

The three women’s heads rose as they entered. Nyx’s face remained unchanged—still stuck in a permanent, threatening scowl. Rhea gave Kyla a considering once-over, and Ariadne smiled lopsidedly.

Kyla studied the women with the ruthless gaze Eris remembered well from when she first defected. She recalled the weight of it, the way Kyla seemed to look deep inside her soul and somehow knew whether she was telling the truth or a falsehood. Eris had learned to lie well under her father’s tutelage, but it was after she’d left the Empire that her skill blossomed. It was how she’d survived within the Novantae: to become so useful to the rebellion that they would never be tempted to replace her. A good-enough skill made a resistance fighter indispensable.

Still, Eris often wondered if Kyla was so good at detecting the truth that she saw right through her.