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I had figured out before that the warping effect had come from Chet, but I hadn’t realized why. I felt the emotions, but he was the one who couldn’t control his sense of loss. All of that…the times when buildings had vanished and cups had teleported away…

That hadn’t been my pain, but his.Hisfear of being subjected to loss again.

I tried to fight off that panic, tried to soothe him. Things weren’t that bad.I’m in the center of the enemy’s fortress,I thought to him. This could be a good situation. How many generals would havelovedto have their best soldier hidden among the enemy command structure? Watching, listening, preparing?We can be of use,I told him.Watch. We can protect them. We can make a difference.

In return, he showed me the nowhere again.

That inviting peacefulness. Tranquility.

Lies. Iknewit to be lies. The delvers pretended to not have pain, but I had felt it right beneath the surface. The nowhere wasn’t peace. It was the illusion of peace. Deep down, to my core, my soul understood that. And I’d already made this decision.

Thank you,I thought to Chet.For showing me this.

But you won’t take it?he asked, pained.

No.

Instead, I needed to find a way to help. I turned my attention to the holoscreen, ignoring my body—which had been mumbling and shaking as my cytonic self interacted.

“I am Admiral of the Fleet Jorgen Weight,” he said from the screen. “Delegated high commander of the Defiant coalition of planets. Where is Winzik?”

“Winzik is dead,” Brade replied. “I’m in control now. You may call me Brade. Tell me, Admiral, you say you’ve come here on arescue mission, but we’re not holding anyone worthy of your attention.”

“We know Spensa is there,” Jorgen said. “We’ve tracked her to your location.”

“Spensa?” Brade said. “You mean the assassin?”

I sighed as Brade waved for one of her assistants to project something for Jorgen: an impressively well-framed video of me smashing Winzik’s crab body with a crowbar. They’d shot it carefully enough that none of their soldiers were in view—but Winzik’s still-smoking and broken exosuit was in the background.

Damn. I’d known she would use this, but I hadn’t expected her to show it to Jorgen. On the viewscreen, he recoiled as if slapped. Well, I couldn’t blame him. The way this looked, I would have assumed the worst about me as well.

The air started to warp again, and I tried to reach out to Jorgen.Pressing my mind toward his.I’m sorry,I sent him, trying to present an image of myself as innocent.

I felt nothing in return. My powers were still being inhibited, either by the drugs or the taynix, or both. Worse, the moment I started, an aide rushed up to Brade.

“Excuse me, Admiral,” Brade said—and temporarily cut the communication to Jorgen. She looked to the aide. “What?”

“We detected a weak cytonic signal,” the aide said, “reaching out toward the enemy. We couldn’t pinpoint the slug behind it.”

“Kill five of them at random,” Brade said.

“Yes, sir.”

Brade looked to my body. “We know if an unauthorized cytonic communication leaves the station, Spensa. If the slugs contact you, you’d best tell them to stay silent.”

“But—” I cried, and my body sat up and said the word out loud.

Then I felt them die. Screaming in pain as the boxes heated up and fried the poor creatures inside. None…none were Doomslug. I thought she was still among them somewhere.

Alongside my fury, I felt Chet’s panic return.

I clamped down on it. No. Instead I glared at Brade and seethed. Iwasgoing to kill her. I’d find a way.

Brade restored the communication. “I’m sorry, Admiral Weight,” she said. “We have your pilot in custody, and would be willing to discuss terms regarding her punishment. But you have to accept that her assassinating theheadof our government means we will continue to hold her.”

“I don’t accept that,” he said. “You’ve been prosecuting an unjust war on our people for generations. We have to fight back however we can, and Spensa Nightshade isn’t the only captive we’re here to rescue.”

Brade cocked her head. “Who else?”