The rest stood around the room in a semicircle with Caledonia at the center. Amina waited with one hand braced against her hip, her long braids spilling behind her like a cloak. Hime was next to her, hands folded quietly in front. Pine leaned against the back wall with a generous scowl pulling at his lips. Sledge had his elbow braced against his knees, an air of calm expectation about him. And Pisces stood directly across from Caledonia.

They weren’t going to like everything she had to say.

“You are all used to commanding your own people,” she began. “And we need to stop thinking of ourselves as two crews on one ship. I want clear lines of communication and reporting. We have seventy-five people on this ship, sixty-nine excluding the six of us, and I want every single one of them to know who they’re responsible for and who they report to.”

“I want Tin on Operations,” Pisces started.

Pine pushed away from the wall, ready to stake his own claim, but Sledge held up one hand and he stopped.

“This isn’t a discussion, not yet.” Caledonia kept her tone even and decisive. She’d spent the rest of her sleepless night bringing her own thoughts into order, and now it was time to do the same to this crew. Given the opportunity, Pisces and Pine would fight to put people they trusted most into authoritative positions. They would argue for their own immediate comfort. It was understandable, yet shortsighted. This wasn’t about reaffirming trust where it already existed, but about building trust to cement this new crew.

“What is this then?” Pisces asked, looking nervous.

“Our command crew.”

This time it was Amina who reacted. Her body stiffened as though shocked, and she cast her angry glare across the room. “What about Tin? Or Nettle? The people who have commanded in your absence are no longer welcome?”

Caledonia had prepared for this; she’d told herself it would happen and that it would feel like tumbling in a massive wave. But she’d been wrong. It was so much worse. The full impact of Amina’s anger felt like trying to draw breath only to discover a massive weight was pressing her lungs flat. The girl took a step toward Caledonia, eyes narrowing shrewdly. Amina had not expressed much of her anger since Caledonia’s return. She’d fallen so firmly back into place that it was tempting to think she wasn’t angry at all. It would have been foolish to believe it. She was angry, and it was surfacing now because she was protecting her crew.

“Captain, we should be the ones to discuss this with you.”