The morning after Rosalia returned from surgery, we had a visitor.

  Cornelius arrived with a book tucked under one arm and that same gentle smile I was starting to associate with him. He'd asked permission to formally introduce himself to Rosalia, and since she was now well enough to receive guests, I saw no reason to refuse.

  "Lady Rainmaker," he said, offering a slight bow. Nothing too formal. "Brother Cornelius Svenlock. I had the pleasure of meeting your companion yesterday. I wanted to pay my respects and see how you were recovering."

  Rosalia was propped up on the suite's largest couch, still pale but alert. The regeneration treatments had done their work overnight, but she moved carefully, like someone still unsure whether her body would hold or break.

  "Brother Svenlock." Her voice was measured, diplomatic. "Nicolas has told me about you. Thank you for looking after him while I was incapacitated."

  "It was my pleasure. He's remarkably easy to talk to." Cornelius's eyes crinkled with warmth. "I also brought you something. I'm told recovering from surgery can be tedious, and I thought you might appreciate a distraction."

  He presented the book with a slight flourish.

  I couldn't read the title from where I stood, but I saw Rosalia's expression shift, from surprise to genuine pleasure, then something more guarded.

  "Varen Solstice," she said quietly. "The Wanderer's Lament."

  "You know it?"

  "I know of it." She turned the volume over in her hands, examining the binding. "He's not exactly approved reading for young nobles. Too scandalous. Too... free."

  "Which is precisely why I thought you might enjoy him." Cornelius smiled. "A man who abandoned civilization to wander the frontier. Wrote verses about freedom that made proper society clutch their pearls. Died young under circumstances that remain delightfully mysterious." He tilted his head. "The kind of author respectable people pretend not to read, while secretly keeping copies hidden in their private libraries."

  Rosalia looked up at him, reassessing. "You've done your research, Brother."

  "I pay attention. It's a professional habit." His tone remained light, but something passed between them. Recognition, perhaps. Two people who understood that gifts were never just gifts.

  "Thank you," she said finally. "This is... unexpectedly thoughtful."

  They talked for a while longer. Her recovery. The ship. His role as Ecclesiarch representative. Cornelius was charming throughout, self-deprecating and warm, the kind of person who made conversation feel effortless.

  I watched from my chair, pleased. My two allies seemed to be getting along.

  When Cornelius finally excused himself, Rosalia waited until the door closed before speaking.

  "Be careful with him."

  I blinked. "What?"

  She examined the book in her hands, not quite meeting my eyes. "Perhaps he was sent precisely because he is easy to connect with. Someone warm, approachable, the kind of person you want to trust." A pause. "That does not make him untrustworthy. But it is worth remembering."

  "You think he's playing us?"

  "I think he is very good at making people comfortable." She finally looked up. "He already knows your secret, Nicolas. We cannot undo that. So we should keep him close. Better to know what he is doing than to push him away and lose sight of him entirely."

  "Keep your friends close and your potential spies closer?"

  "Something like that." A small smile crossed her face. "If he is genuinely an ally, closeness costs us nothing. If he is not... closeness lets us watch him."

  It felt calculating. Cynical. I wasn't comfortable with that mindset, but I couldn't argue with the logic.

  Rosalia returned her attention to the book, running her fingers over the embossed cover. "He has good taste, at least. I will give him that."

  She set it aside after a moment, her expression shifting from appreciation to something more focused.

  "I think it is time we discuss our options regarding the advanced technologies in your possession."

  I sat on the opposite chair. Back straight, focused.

  "The technology is the problem," Rosalia said. We'd moved to the dining table, spreading out the few physical notes she'd managed to make during her recovery. "The Mahkkra paints a target on our backs. They've already seen what it can do from the flight recordings. Trying to hide the specifications only makes us look like threats."

  "So what do we do?"

  "We cannot hide the 'what.'" She rubbed her ear with her thumb. Her thinking gesture. "So we must control the 'how' while protecting the 'where.'"

  "Meaning?"

  "Full disclosure. Everything about how the technology works. Specifications, deep scans, all recordings. Hide nothing." She met my eyes. "In exchange, we demand protection and no questions about where it came from. I thought of a cover story that fits: you are a Church of Enlightened Knowledge test subject who escaped with stolen technology. It explains why you cannot answer those questions. Why you were reluctant to answer Seraphine's inquiry."

  I nodded slowly, turning it over in my mind.

  I kept that thought to myself. Rosalia was working herself ragged on my behalf. The least I could do was be patient.

  "Who do we negotiate with?" I asked instead. "Seraphine's just a captain. She doesn't have the authority for something this big."

  "No, she does not." Rosalia frowned. "We need someone higher. But we do not know anyone in Imperial command."

  "Cornelius."

  She raised an eyebrow.

  "He already knows my secret," I said. "He claims to represent the Ecclesiarch, which means connections we can't reach on our own. And if we're keeping him close to watch him anyway..."

  "Then involving him in the negotiation keeps him where we can see him." Rosalia considered this for a long moment. "It is not ideal. But you are right: we do not have better options."

  We called Cornelius back to the suite.

  Rosalia took the lead, her diplomatic training on full display. She explained what we wanted: high-level contacts who could guarantee protection in exchange for technical cooperation. She laid out the parameters, the boundaries, what we could offer and what we required in return.

  Cornelius listened without interrupting, occasionally asking clarifying questions. When she finished, he was quiet for a moment.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "You were right to contact me," he said finally. "I can arrange this. I report directly to the high council. I can set up an ansible meeting with people who have the authority you need. It will take a day or two to set up. Ansible time is expensive and they are busy people. But it will be done."

  "Thank you," Rosalia said. Her tone was formal, diplomatic, revealing nothing.

  After he left, we exchanged a look.

  Committed now. For better or worse.

  The next two days passed slowly. Cornelius was arranging the logistics, calling in favours to clear the schedules of very important people. I spent the time pacing, reading the book in the suite. Most were dry old poetry and epics. I did not enjoy them, but it help me not to think about everything that could go wrong.

  When the meeting happened, I was thrilled.

  I'd never seen ansible technology before. Instantaneous holographic communication across interstellar distances. It was common tech in games, but seeing it in real life was like walking in a dream. I was staring at it like it was a leaked screenshot of a coming expansion. I had bombarded Cornelius with questions on the way, but his answers were vague. I only managed to get that it relied on quantum entanglement. Apparently, a single ansible call cost more than most people earned in a year.

  The fact that we got time at all told me something about Cornelius's connections.

  Two figures materialized in the suite's communication alcove. Holograms, but crisp enough to seem almost solid.

  The first was an old Eluan with silver hair like Seraphine's, though touched with the patina of age. Formal military bearing radiating authority, clearly used to giving orders and being obeyed. He introduced himself as Baron Cassius Ventari, representing Imperial Naval Command.

  Ventari. Seraphine's family name. Her father?

  I filed that away for later consideration.

  The second figure was introduced simply as "an elder of the Ecclesiarch, here to observe and serve as witness." He looked surprisingly young for an elder. He said nothing, but he had intelligent and watchful eyes, seeming to miss nothing.

  The negotiation began, and I was immediately lost.

  Words. So many words. Rosalia was in her element. Their discussion was a mock battle. A choreography of parry, redirection, and finding angles I couldn't even see. This was her battlefield, not mine.

  I let myself drift, watching the faces instead of following the conversation. Baron Ventari had Seraphine's eyes. The same arctic intensity. But where hers burned cold, his were patient. The patience of someone who had waited decades for things to unfold.

  The elder barely spoke, but his silence carried weight. He observed me with terrifying intensity. I got the feeling he wasn't just here to listen to the negotiation. He was here to judge me. I became convinced that he already knew my origin.

  I let Rosalia talk, doing my best to be unobtrusive and let her work her magic.

  That meeting was only the beginning. The negotiations stretched over several days. Multiple ansible meetings, each one costing a small fortune. Rosalia attended them all; I increasingly found reasons not to.

  Every time I open my mouth in there, I risk saying something wrong. Better to let her handle it.

  Of course, I didn't laze around while Rosalia was working so hard for my future. I refused to be useless.

  Part of it was fighting boredom. There's only so long you can stare at the same luxury suite before the walls start closing in. Part of it was guilt. But mostly, I was starting to realize how casual I'd been about all this. I'd stumbled into a new universe and just... winged it. Now there were consequences.

  So I asked Cornelius to teach me.

  He proved to be a patient teacher. Over those few days, he walked me through the structure of the Empire: how power flowed from the Emperor through the Senate, the noble houses, the military. Laws of space travel: permits, registration, restricted zones, what got you detained and what got you shot. And everything about mercenary regulations: membership, procedures.

  I learned a lot. More than I expected. Cornelius had a gift for making complicated things clear.

  But gods, I was getting restless.

  Every day was another meeting, another set of documents, another round of careful words I didn't understand. This wasn't what I'd imagined when I thought about my new life. I'd pictured freedom. Adventure. The open stars and the thrill of flying.

  Instead I was stuck in the luxury suite while other people decided my future.

  Soon, I told myself. Soon this would be over, and I could finally be a mercenary.

  I just had to survive the paperwork first.

  During those days, Seraphine joined us for meals when her duties permitted. She was making an effort. Asking about our comfort. Sharing small talk about ship life, even attempting dry humor that occasionally landed.

  On the second day, I noticed something. Nothing obvious, she was too disciplined for that. But there were moments when her attention drifted. When she looked at me and her expression flickered with something I couldn't identify.

  Not suspicion. Not hostility. Something else. Something personal.

  I didn't ask. It didn't feel like my place.

  On the fourth day, I was in the middle of one of Cornelius's lectures on mercenary guild regulations when rosalia returned from the final meeting. she looked exhausted but satisfied.

  "It is done."

  I sat up straighter. "The deal?"

  "Full disclosure of the Mahkkra specifications and capabilities. Deep scans permitted. All recordings and data shared." She lowered herself onto the couch with careful movements. "In exchange: official protection, no questions about origin, and acceptance of the cover story."

  "Which is?"

  "You are a test subject of the Church of Enlightened Knowledge. You stole the Mahkkra while escaping their facility. The experiments you underwent explain your lack of identity, your memory gaps, and your psionic emissions." She paused. "I also had to disclose the existence of Hyperion Deep. I claimed it was as an abandoned church research station that you learned about during your escape. They will examine it."

  I should have felt more concerned about that. Instead, I felt relief. Finally, this part was over.

  "You are remarkably unconcerned," Rosalia observed, "about handing over technology that could shift the balance of power in the Empire."

  I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. The question deserved more than a reflexive response.

  "Honestly?" I stood up from my chair, suddenly needing to move. "I don't really care about the tech itself. It's like..."

  I paced to the viewport, staring out at the stars without really seeing them. I passed my hands through my hair.

  "It's like it's not really mine. I mean, yes, I own it. It's in my ship. But I didn't..." I turned back to face her, struggling to find the right words. "I didn't earn it. Not the way you'd think. I don't understand how the riftlance works. I couldn't explain the physics of the Quillon drive if my life depended on it. I just... have them."

  My hand went to the back of my neck, rubbing at tension I hadn't noticed building.

  "Don't get me wrong. The Mahkkra..." Something shifted in my chest when I said her name. "The Mahkkra is mine. It's my baby. I would fight anyone who tried to take her from me. I'd die for that ship." I heard the intensity in my own voice and felt slightly embarrassed by it. "That probably sounds insane."

  "It sounds like a pilot," Rosalia said quietly.

  "But the tech advantage?" I shook my head, resuming my pacing. "That's different. I put in the work to get the ship. Hundreds of hours of grinding. Dedication. But that's not the same as actually understanding how it works."

  I stopped by the couch, gripping the back of it with both hands.

  "And honestly? I think I'd rather have a fair fight." I said, the words coming slowly. "One where my skills actually matter. Where winning means something because I outflew someone, outthought them. Not because my weapons are so advanced that it's basically cheating."

  I looked down at my hands.

  "I love flying. I love the challenge of combat. The way everything else falls away and it's just you and the void and the enemy and this... this perfect clarity. If the tech does all the work, what's the point? I might as well just be a passenger."

  I tried to smile. It felt crooked on my face.

  "That probably sounds stupid. Turning down an advantage most people would kill for."

  She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

  "That is admirable," she said finally. "And profoundly naive."

  "Probably." I dropped onto the couch, suddenly tired. "But that's how I feel."

  "I know." She almost smiled. "It is one of the things I find most frustrating about you. And also, refreshing."

  She sat back, studying me. "I was raised by people who viewed every advantage as a weapon to be hoarded. The idea of rejecting power because it feels 'unfair' is... alien to them. But perhaps not incorrect."

  Her gaze turned pensive. "I want the freedom of seeing the world the way you do."

  She pushed herself up from the couch, moving more easily now than she had that morning. "We should celebrate. I will ask Cornelius to arrange something for this evening."