It was as though she held the warm honey of sunset on a summer’s day in Tholos. She’d seen so many of those, through the little window in her workroom, wishing she could reach out and capture it, keep it close. She was mesmerized. By the gods, she’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Ariadne smiled smugly at Nyx. “See? Josephine is gorgeous.”

“Does the ship’s computer show any hazardous spikes?” Clo’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Please tell me no. I don’t want to hemorrhage and die.”

Ariadne checked. “Nah, but it’s still scanning the endospores that were just released. Stay behind the partition.”

Ariadne shivered. Of course something so pretty would be dangerous. Wasn’t that often the way of things? When Ariadne watched her vids, she remembered seeing explorations of a planet called Colchis. It had a flower called the Night Rose, which only bloomed once a year, when the moon was highest in the sky. It was considered to be the most beautiful in all of the Empire, and for those brief hours of its bloom, the poison on its petals killed any human who touched it within minutes.

Yes, beautiful things were always underestimated.

“So, what’s the purpose of this?” Nyx asked, leaning closer, as if hypnotized by the subtly shifting colors. The inside of the rock was so vibrant it made fire opals look like cheap marbles in comparison.

“Maybe it’s a gift?” Ariadne asked. “I mean, it’s lovely enough. The Tholosians have a clear protective blocker they can use to paint these for jewelry. It costs a lot, but I’ve seen them do it with lustercite, which can kill people in its natural form. It’s so sparkly.” At Nyx’s questioning look, Ariadne pressed her lips together. “On the vid-screens. I used to watch the holiday balls from the Temple.”

Nyx stared at her for so long that Ariadne wondered if the other woman pitied her for such an admission. But in the end, Nyx just shook her head. “No, you’re not turning it into a necklace. Too dangerous. And it looks flammable,” Nyx said.

Ariadne opened her mouth but Nyx cut her off. “No. Absolutely not. We are not setting the hazardous rock on fire. Do you hear me?”

“Gods, you sound like a mother.” Ariadne pretended to be annoyed, but really, she liked it. She’d never had a mother. Not a good one, anyway. “Let me run the analysis.”

The analyzer ran composition through the Oracle’s database, which stored details of every known and identified material in the galaxy. Ariadne herself had helped organize and maintain the database for Tholosian scientists exploring new planets for resources.

The analyzer beeped twice.

Ariadne frowned. “That’s strange.”

“What’s strange?” Clo asked. “Oh, gods, am I going to die?”