Page 257 of Commander’s Mate

Or not.

Nothing guaranteed that.

But command had spent generations pretending rank and knowledge were the same thing.

Breskaa was teaching us otherwise before we even arrived.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Harper

The night before Breskaa, nobody slept properly.

The ship felt different when people were preparing to go into danger on purpose.

Armor techs worked in the staging bay. Medical packed trauma units. Shuttle crews checked loads twice, then checked them again. The registry team printed blank intake bands for anyone who wanted identification after rescue and prepared tablets for names, medical needs, family searches, and homeworld requests.

I had a job.

It helped.

Nora would work with medical intake. Zoe had spent days assembling mobility straps and support braces for people too weak to walk from the shuttles. Scarlet had qualified for a defensive support role aboard ship, though Pyrr had made it very clear she was not going ground-side on her first week of alien military training.

She had made it equally clear what she thought of that decision.

For once, I sided with Pyrr.

“You traitor,” Scarlet said.

“You’ve been trained for a few days.”

Scarlet found us in the registry room after midnight.

Not because she wanted anything.

Because none of us had gone to bed.

Nora sat on the floor sorting medical bands by color.

Zoe had her feet on a chair and was labeling mobility straps.

I was pretending the same family-search field had required twenty minutes of attention.

Scarlet leaned against the door.

“We should talk.”

Every woman in the room looked at her.

She grimaced.

“That sounded ominous.”

“Extremely,” Nora said.

“Try again,” Zoe suggested.

Scarlet came inside.