That lands. His ego likes command.
He nods once, grudging. “Fine.”
I turn to Captain Jessa. “You run boarding teams.”
She grins, feral. “Gladly.”
I look at the tech ops lead—Mira, a woman with grease under her nails and eyes that look like she sleeps with one ear on a server rack. “You coordinate with Jordan’s known hack style.”
Mira blinks. “Her—hack style?”
I nod. “She leaves fingerprints. Patterns. She thinks like a systems engineer who grew up hiding in institutions. She’ll build backdoors, not brute force. You anticipate her moves so we can find her faster.”
Mira’s expression shifts—respect, interest. “Copy.”
I turn to med lead—Dr. Senn, a grizzled Vakutan with a scar down his snout. “Prep trauma bays.”
Senn nods once. “Expect burns. Restraint injuries. Malnutrition.”
My chest tightens. I keep it leashed.
“Also,” I add, “prepare for chemical exposure. Morazin likes gas.”
Renn’s voice is low. “Procurement’s already looking for ships. We can buy?—”
“No,” I say sharply. “We don’t buy from anyone tied to the Nine. We buy clean, or we buy stolen.”
A few faces brighten at the wordstolen. Criminals understand stolen.
Renn nods. “I’ve got options.”
I make my next choice—a strategic one over pride.
“Temporary contracts,” I say. “Non-Kaijen merc crews.”
The room stills again.
A captain frowns. “Boss, bringing outsiders?—”
“Gives us manpower without surrendering control,” I cut in. “We hire on my terms. Short leash. Clear payout. No access to our internal comms. If they betray us, they don’t leave Terranus V breathing.”
Renn studies me, then nods slowly. “That’ll work.”
Fyr mutters, “You’re really doing it.”
I glance at him. “Yeah.”
He swallows. “For her.”
I don’t answer that part out loud.
Because it’s true, and truth makes people reckless.
The cruiserwe buy is ugly in the way serious ships are ugly—no sleek curves meant for holo-ads, just armor plating, reinforced comm arrays, a prow designed to bite through debrisand keep going. Its hull smells like coolant and old metal and recently welded seams. The engine hum is deeper than the shuttle I stole from Gur, a steady predator purr.
We rename it in the bay, because names matter, and because superstition is just strategy wearing a costume.
Renn offers a few options. Jessa suggests something obscene.
