Nyx didn’t look convinced as she approached the glass door of Ariadne’s small nook. Ariadne could see why pilots and copilots liked resting in there between shifts. It was perfect for a blanket pile and some starwatching. Or makeshift rock tests.

Nyx gestured to the gemstone and spoke through the comm. “Just don’t touch it and don’t take off your mask when you’re drilling at it. It might not be a weapon, but until we figure out what it is, consider it dangerous.”

Ariadne smiled. “I’m going to name it Josephine. A pretty name for a dangerous rock.”

Josephine was a good name. She would have added the rock to her collection of Named Things she kept on her desk at the Temple on Tholos, where she resided alone, surrounded by the Oracle’s programming screens. Sometimes the Oracle, as sentient and clever as One was, sensed One’s daughter was lonely and had the palace couriers bring gifts to the doorstep of the Temple: rocks, plants, dolls.

Ariadne named all of them. Stupid names, silly names, human names. Like Josephine.

Eris looked at her with a bemused expression. Ariadne still wasn’t sure how she felt about her. She was a little scary, and not like Nyx. Ariadne could trust Nyx to have her back, to protect her. When Eris looked at people, it was like she was weighing the costs of either killing them or keeping them alive. Not comforting.

“You’re not naming the rock,” Nyx said, exasperated.

“Oh, but I am. I’ve decided,” Ariadne said.

Ariadne placed the rock back inside the protective glove, wrapped it up tight, and put it in her pocket. The door gave a soft hiss as she came out of the glass room. Her helmet came off with an easy click. Rhea gave Ariadne an amused look and reached out to smooth down her hair. It felt so nice.

“Rhea.” Ariadne smiled. “Do you like my rock’s name?”

“Of course I do, sweet,” Rhea said. “You came up with it.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “Can we get back to the topic at hand? I don’t believe that bastard about this truce. The Empire’s resources might be more strained, but that’s happened before in the Empire’s history. The Archon just conquers another planet, fights another battle. Kills a bunch of people. So, I’m still pretty convinced that the rock—”

“Josephine,” Ariadne insisted.

“—is a weapon. And you want to give it a cute name?”

“It’s a good name. I want to get a better look inside of it,” Ariadne said. “It’s shiny when I hold it to the light.” Shiny, glittery, pretty. Definitely how she’d imagine a thing named Josephine would be.