My breath was hard to regulate as I went from considering the implications of even just Amy’s apparent deal falling through, which I knew people had been planning around, went to considering outright cancellation of any deal whatsoever, and then realized this was just maneuvering.

Well, ‘just’. It was a lot of weight to be throwing around. Threatening to scrap the deal as a show of power and an indication of what was at stake. Attacking us directly wasn’t the only tool in their toolbox.

Miss Militia found her footing. Her appeal was as emotional as I’d ever heard her be. “You know me, you like me, you know I’ve never wronged you. These young people deserve your goodwill. They did right by you, I believe you were at least partially in their thoughts when they took the actions they did.”

“We were debating about them earlier, among ourselves. If I may?” Luis asked. He made a beckoning gesture. “We’ll talk to them, and we’ll see if a revisit of our deal is a discussion worth having.”

“Antares?” Miss Militia started reaching back for my shoulder.

“For now, we would rather talk to Swansong. She made a dramatic gesture and got our attention.”

They planned this. They knew they’d do this before we stepped into this room.

I met Ashley’s eyes and I tried to read if there was something black still residing there.

Please be good. Please be your best self.

Miss Militia made a small motion with her hand, for Swansong to approach. At the same time, she held up her other hand to tell us to stay.

“If you would step back, Militia?” Yosef asked.

“I would like to stay by her side and counsel her and anyone else. She doesn’t know the small customs.”

“We’ll forgive any small breaches.”

“In your minds maybe, but not in your hearts. This is best for everyone.”

“I agree,” Luis said.

“Conceded. Stay,” Yosef added.

What I was getting now was that this was a formalized debate, in a sense. The ‘floor’ was a subtle thing, with everyone gathered in a circle and then people stepping forward as they had permission to engage. Luis had had to ask, but Yosef hadn’t. Because he was powerful, or because he’d stated something everyone could agree with.

Which left me to assume that taking stances everyone could agree with would be important, or… you’d get challenged. Maybe even ejected. It also left me to wonder if it was possible to step even closer to the middle. Was there a progression, a series of levels of authority? Did other movements matter?

Ashley stepped up, holding her hands much like Miss Milita did, clasped behind her back. Her chin was more raised. “Thank you.”

“We start by introducing ourselves, before any statements,” Miss Militia said. “Name first.”

“Swansong,” Ashley said. “Ashley Stillons. Breakthrough.”