“I’d rather be a reckless liability than a cold-hearted mass murderer,” Clo ground out. “They should have killed you.”
Eris heard Clo’s unspoken words: I should have killed you.
It didn’t matter that Eris had saved Clo’s life. What was one life spared compared to so many others taken? The scales had been tipped long before. Cold-hearted. Mass murderer. These were all things Eris had heard before, spoken by the other rebels at Nova when they’d celebrated the anniversary of her former self’s death—because none of them knew that death was as fake as the face of their new recruit. Eris had tried not to show how much those words hurt.
After all, she could be honest: they were kinder descriptors than she deserved.
The mechanic was right to loathe her: Eris used her old skills for a different purpose. She was still the Servant of Death, and always would be. Didn’t matter which side she fought on—Empire or resistance—killing was dirty work. Few people liked to sully their hands or minds with it.
Few people liked to acknowledge that it didn’t matter how good your intentions; in order to overthrow an empire, murder was a necessity. Someone had to do it.
So Eris did. And she let herself be feared and hated and never told anyone about her guilt. She’d never told Clo how much she hated her own past, her family, those tallies she kept nightly of her dead as she recalled every last rite she ever gave.
The Servant of Death is always alone. And you deserve it.
Kyla and Sher both stared at Eris. Eris had always figured they agreed with Clo. But they didn’t have to like her—they had a use for her. That was all she offered them.
“Stand down, Cloelia,” Kyla said.
“I don’t think—”
“I said stand down.”
Clo jerked her arm out of Kyla’s grip, her hand resting on the handle of her weapon. “I take it this mission has something to do with her.”
“Hand off the Mors, Alesca,” Sher said. “You’re not shooting anyone.”
“Oh, but if we all aimed at the same time . . .”
Eris scoffed, impatient. “Can we get on with the brief?” she said to Sher. “Kyla gave me the basics. Details, please.”
“Let me know so I can formally turn it down.” Clo crossed her arms over her chest.
Sher shot Clo a look. “A ship is about to leave Tholos called Zelus,” he said. “It looks like your typical cargo ship, standard S-model spacecraft. Records say Legate Atkis and his crew are delivering to a military outpost and will be taking up a position there. Nothing out of the ordinary, according to the paperwork. It didn’t even register with our intel until we saw these.”
He passed Eris his tablet and Clo edged closer to the screen with a resigned sigh. Eris studied the ship’s schematics with a practiced gaze. She knew every trick her father and brother had in their employ, every secret, but even she didn’t know how Sher and Kyla had managed to obtain a copy of the Oracle’s coding on this spacecraft. Whoever they had hacking into the Tholosian ships’ computers was damn good.
“That’s one flame of a coding structure,” Eris murmured. “The Oracle is keeping a close eye on this one. Could be weapons.” She tapped the screen to get a closer look. “One watches ships like this if they’re sending in supplies to the front lines, especially for a critical battle. There hasn’t been that kind of fight with the Evoli for a few years, but Tholosian resources have been strained since Charon got hit by the asteroid. Food is going to get low if they don’t find another planet that can pick up the slack, and stealing one from the Evoli is a desperate option. Maybe high-risk materials. Something they’d have good reason for the Oracle to watch over. The AI’s programming has become better about detecting supply strains.”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Clo muttered, her lip curling.
“Not helping,” Sher snapped at Clo. He flicked his finger across the screen to bring up an image of the ship at port on Tholos. “What do you think now?”
Eris let out a breath at the image. A typical cargo ship like that shouldn’t have so many soldiers on guard, even for the usual weapon shipments. Her father would have depended on the Oracle’s space scanner to make sure the ship couldn’t be commandeered while in flight. But this? Eris would have used this kind of security to ensure the weapon she had was delivered safely to the battlefront.
For a big win. Possibly Empire-altering. Something that would kill a lot of people.
“That . . . is concerning,” Eris said.
“Understatement,” Clo said. “Hey, Sher, remember how excited I was about a mission before? Scratch that. Assign me to a backwater planet to avoid the slaughter before it starts.”
“And have you miss out on all the fun, Alesca? Wouldn’t dream of it. Stop whining.”
Eris passed the tablet back to Sher. “What do you want us to do?”
“Impossible to infiltrate,” Kyla said. “Your favorite. We need you to intercept the ship when it docks for fuel. Sneak on board, gather intel, hide a tracer inside so we can track its movements, and get out.” Kyla’s gaze was hard. “Get out being the end goal here. Don’t stay aboard. Don’t commandeer the ship. Do not, under any circumstances, kill anyone. We need to know what the cargo is, who it’s for, and the ship’s final destination. Cloelia will accompany you to ensure you make it on.”
Eris tried not to let her irritation show. “I know how to break into a ship, Kyla. I did it just before you called me in.”
“Clo knows these types of ships inside and out, and I’m not taking any chances. Questions?”
A pause as Clo and Eris looked at one another. Then at the same time: “Who’s in charge?”
Sher grinned. “Told you,” he said to Kyla. “Hand over the scratch and nobody gets hurt.”
“Oh, shut up.” Kyla dug in her pocket, came up with a few coins, and smacked them into his hand. “I’m disappointed in you both.”
“You deserve it,” Clo said. “You shouldn’t have bet on us. Answer the question.”
“Eris has done more ITI missions, so she takes the lead. Clo, follow her command.”
Clo curled her lip. “Do you hate me? Did I piss in your breakfast this morning without realizing? Has everyone here forgotten what happened last year, or do you need a refresher?” She gestured wildly to Eris. “She tried tae kill me.”
Eris rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. If I had actually tried to kill you, then you wouldn’t be here irritating me. I saved your life.”
“Only after nearly taking it to begin with.” She looked at Sher and Kyla, swallowing back her Snarl accent. “You can find someone else to do my bit, right? You have other mechanics and pilots. I’ll train one to get around the Oracle’s watch. I’ll take a shittier mission. But I can’t be around her.”