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“With the skin.”

“NEDS.”

Volga’s eyes narrow. “What is this NEDS?”

“Nanotech emergency defense system.”

“Really?” Volga’s eyebrows do a little dance. “Slick.”

“I know, right? I had it installed in—”

“Quiet.” Volga squeezes her throat tight as the public address system crackles to life.

Lady Barca’s voice comes over the coms.

“All factors and clients of House Julii-Barca, this is your patronus, we have been boarded by an unidentified enemy force of unknown strength. While they share traits with Obsidians, their skin appears to be polyextremophilic: resistant to vacuum, radiation, low-velocity rounds, and thermal imaging. They are also under heavy psychotropic influence. Pain does not register, but headshots do. They have penetrated the core lifts. We have zero containment. They are climatized to null G, so I have retaken the gravity generator personally. We cannot hold it, but the gravity will give you a chance.”

She takes a deep breath.

“The enemy appears to have limited working knowledge of our systems. Thus, I am ordering total evacuation of the Pandora, to be followed by a purge protocol. In ten minutes achlys-9 nerve agent will be dispersed. You have until then to get to your pods. Victra out.”

The Pandora is a legend. The Julii twice as famous. She doesn’t just abandon her family flagship.

It feels like the world is upside down.

Volga looks bewildered. “What do we do?”

“Still looking for orders,” Fig says with a laugh. “Poor puppy needs a—ack.” Volga squeezes her throat.

“Should we find the pods?” she asks me.

“You gonna kill her or not?” I ask.

“To be determined.”

“Well, if you’re not, I reckon she’s our best chance of getting out of here. Maybe put her down?”

“Why not. I will kill her if she is shifty.” Volga releases Fig. The small woman falls to the floor hacking for air. “Without her pistol. It is much easier.”

“I can help you…” Fig says, massaging her throat.

“Can you fly a ship?” I ask.

“Of course I can fly a ship.” I raise an eyebrow at Volga. “But you do not want to go to the hangars,” Fig says. “I just came from there. It’s a slaughterhouse. Trust me.”

Volga and I both laugh.

“You two are part of my contract. I don’t get paid my second half till I hand you over to Sefi.” Her eyes flick to Volga. “What did the monkey mean when she said one of them knew your name?”

Volga shakes her head.

“You don’t know? Of course you don’t know. I fucking hate Mars,” Fig mutters. “All the weird shit happens here. Makes no sense.” She makes that same distant expression she made in my cell, almost like taking a step out of the physical world. When she reverts, she says one word. “Xenophon.”

“What’s a Xenophon?” I ask.

She ignores me to wipe blood from the needle hole in her hand.

“Where are the escape pods?” Volga asks.