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Niko nearly choked. “Wh— Uh, yeah. There are a lot to choose from anyway, like I said. So.” He made his way up the ramp and through the doors, the footsteps of the others following shortly behind.

“I’ll show you around the place. There are a few bathrooms, so you can pick your own too.

There’s a cafeteria with a kitchen and food storage.

I’ve gotten a few extra ingredients since we saw Lady D. She put in a supply order for us.”

“Huh,” Zann marveled.

Niko glanced back at him and saw him sweeping his gaze across the empty control room, dark eyes wide as they took in the strange lifelessness of the place.

He wished he could ask what he thought about it, and entertained the idea, but then pushed it away.

That was probably best for another time, especially with the underlying tension brewing between him and Elliott.

The last thing he needed was for Zann to start shit-talking the place when Elliott was already on the defensive.

“There’s an intercom system hooked up if we need to make any kind of long-distance announcements.”

“Don’t abuse that. In fact, don’t use it at all,” Elliott interjected again. Zann only gave him a wicked grin in response.

Niko sighed. “ Anyway ,” he continued, moving now into the hall.

“I’m going to get back to searching,” Elliott murmured, slipping off ahead of them down the hall before Niko could protest otherwise. Zann watched him go, then paused, looking down at Niko.

“Told you he wasn’t going to be a fan.”

“Are you fucking serious? You’ve done nothing but antagonize him since you got on the ship. ‘Hey, killer?’ ‘Murder boner prescription?’ Are you even trying right now?”

“We’ve got a history. It’s going to take time to be besties with him.”

“For fuck’s sake, Zann,” Niko snapped. “Stop acting like a toddler. Come on.”

He continued down several long and winding halls, giving the grand tour to Zann.

Niko tried to inject a little more enthusiasm and emotion than Elliott had espoused when he’d shown him around.

It was hard, with how desolate the whole place still was.

It was bizarre to Niko that he’d started to think of these featureless halls with the ever-present buzz of their fluorescent lights as his residence now.

For his part, now that Elliott wasn’t nearby, Zann seemed to have mellowed out, taking in the sights and directions, nodding and peeking around curiously.

He chose a room respectably far away from the one Niko and Elliott shared, merely giving a “Hell no, I don’t want to hear that shit” when Niko cast him a glance.

When, at last, they reached the Murder Room, he asked, “What’s this?”

Niko sighed, anticipating the inevitable commentary. “So this is, uh, the hub where we do most of our strategic planning. It’s kind of come to be dubbed the Murder Room.”

Zann barked out a laugh, peeking inside. Elliott had already been by, it seemed; T1-N4’s lifeless body lay atop an island counter. Zann gave a chuckle at the sight of the two tacky signs that hung along the side wall. “Cute.”

Joining This is Where the Magic Happens was now Live, Laugh, Liquidate , as since doctored by Elliott. Zann peered around the room, at all its half-assembled tech and weapons racks, at its grid of x-ed out portraits of galactic luminaries. Finally, he turned and looked at Niko, eyebrows raised.

“So, this is a hell of a thing, Niko.”

“I—I know. But at the same time, is it? We’ve done stuff like this before, Zann.”

“No, not on this sort of scale. Never on this scale.”

“No. But we did exactly what he’s doing now, just… quieter. We’re just lucky nobody saw us.”

Zann shook his head. “So, this is how it’s going to be from now on, huh?

This abandoned alien mining facility. Are you even okay, Niko?

This place is a fucking shitshow. It’s a big empty nothingness.

On a fucking airless nothing moon. In a lost solar system no one else has even heard of.

And it’s just the two of you living here. ”

“Uh. Yeah. I’m alright, Zann. I mean— No, I’m not. That’s a lie. I haven’t been okay since I heard about Dad and Loolae. It’s been… hard.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m going to find them, Niko. One way or another. Especially now that Galapol so kindly lent me their data.”

“We’ve been looking too. Day and night. Elliott doesn’t stop. He isn’t even fucking sleeping.”

Zann frowned. “Is that what he meant by ‘searching’? I figured he meant for your next victim.”

“ Yes , that’s what he meant. We’re not doing any more hits until they’re found. I know we probably poked the hornet’s nest with releasing the files and doing that broadcast, but—”

“No, you straight up dropkicked the fucking hornet’s nest, Niko. Every fucker in Honeybliss right now is going to be in panic mode. And really, really pissed off. Even more than they already were.”

Niko winced, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah. …Yeah.”

Zann sighed. “He find anything yet?”

“He has a couple of potential leads but is still struggling. I— You know, maybe you guys could try working together. Combine your knowledge and all that.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Sure.”

I don’t regret it , he wanted to tell Zann. The words were urgent, insistent on the tip of his tongue. I don’t regret it at all .

I don’t regret him.

But Niko stayed silent. It was too cruel a thing to say, given the situation. And all the consequences it had led to—and might potentially still.

Instead, he said, “Why don’t you get situated into your room, and I’ll get some dinner started.”

“TV dinners?”

“No, I was thinking carne asada, actually.”

“You’re cooking again, huh? Been a while.”

Niko shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” He had motivation to start cooking again, something he’d once loved doing. It made a difference that he had someone to cook for now.

It was easier to take care of and treat Elliott than it had been to take care of himself.

“Sure, Niko. Carne asada sounds amazing,” Zann said, pushing off the side of the island.

He walked by Niko as he exited, pausing to look down at him and place a warm, firm hand on his shoulder.

His clothes still held an echo of stale smoke, and the nostalgia of it oddly made Niko crave the old vice.

Or maybe it was just the stress of everything getting to him.

“Hey. I’ve got your back, now that I’m here. I’m gonna look out for you.”

Niko sighed. He reached up and placed his hand over his brother’s.

“Zann.” He appreciated the vigilance and care being offered, but it wasn’t necessary.

“Will you trust me? It’s not what you think it is.

He’s not a bad person. And he’s not manipulating me.

He gave me information, and I came to the conclusion independently on my own to help him in the end. ”

“Gave you information and a pretty saucy jackoff pic. And apparently a little bit of tongue on Uula.”

Niko groaned. “Okay. Uh, yeah. Maybe. But honestly, all of that was just trying to fuck with me.”

“Oh, you mean like manipulation? ”

“Err. It’s not—”

“Not like that?” Zann finished for him, grinning again. “Sure, Niko.”

“Whatever,” Niko said. He was too tired for this right now. “I’m going to go make dinner.”

On his way to the cafeteria, Niko stopped by the lounge he knew he’d find Elliott in.

He paused for a moment, merely watching through the open doorway at the wide spray of dozens of holograms, Elliott’s face morose, mouth drawn in a tight line, his pale skin washed in spectral hologram blue.

The sight had become so familiar that Niko almost forgot how he looked these days when not tinted azure.

“Hey,” Niko said, making his way in.

“Oh. Niko.”

“How are you doing?”

“I might be making progress. I’m trying to look into Kuuruum Tolu. The duke of Orddin, on Thoro. He has strong ties with family in Galapol, and could have likely pulled strings there to get them to look the other way. Or maybe even help.”

Niko sighed. It was hard to get a straight answer from Elliott sometimes about how he really was. “No, I mean, with everything today. With Zann. I know he’s been prickly.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Elliott said.

“And I know he’s your brother, Niko, but I really don’t think you should trust him.

I know you’re going to just shake your head at me and argue, because of the connection you have with him.

But I think you need to hear this. There’s something more to this whole thing going on.

It’s too convenient that they took your father when they did.

Galapol was supposed to be keeping an eye on them.

Your brother was the one who asked them to.

Then they get taken anyway, and no one has any explanation as to how.

And now, that same brother managed to waltz right into Station Twelve?

I don’t believe it, Niko. I’m sorry, but I can’t.

“I know you won’t like hearing this, but I think bringing him here was a mistake. Now he—and probably Galapol—know exactly where to find us. We’re sitting ducks. If they decide to act, we’re just fucked.”

Niko ran a hand over his face. This cycle of distrust was never-ending, pressing down on him from both sides.

“I’m sorry, Elliott. I’m sorry you can’t relax in your own home, now that someone you don’t trust is here.

I’m still going to say it, though. Zann isn’t with Galapol anymore.

There probably is something more going on with this whole thing, you’re right.

But whatever it is doesn’t involve him anymore.

And he never asked to come here. It was my idea. ”

“It was your idea, Niko, but you should also be aware of the possibility that he might be manipulating—”

Niko huffed out a tired laugh.

“What?”

“...Nothing, babe. Listen, I’m going to go make dinner.

Let’s just take this one day at a time for now, okay?

You and he have the same goals. All three of us do.

We’re trying to find two missing people.

And Zann, before he got fired, was a hell of an investigator.

Maybe you could actually work together.”

“I— Maybe.”

His tone was clear that by maybe, he meant not a chance in hell.

“Consider it, okay? I’m thinking carne asada tonight. Does that sound good to you?”

“Carne— Steak? Do we really have the ingredients for all these meals? Especially with a third person here now.”

“I may have requested a metric fuckton of kitchen shit when Deleera ordered from market.”

“That explains why you had me haul so many boxes in there.”

“I love you, Elliott, but I have a side fling, and it’s called ‘food that doesn’t taste like cardboard.’ Really, though, don’t worry. Just enjoy it. You’ll actually get to have flavor in your life again that’s not canned chickpeas and green beans. You’re welcome.”

“Ah. The depths of my eternal gratitude are boundless. Thank you, savior of my tongue,” Elliott quipped.

“Better watch what you say,” Niko warned, as he turned the chair to exit. “I might just have to make use of that title.”