“So, how’s life with civilians?” Aryanna’s voice had that familiar mix of exhaustion and sharpness as she ran a cloth down the barrel of her shotgun. Even though she wasn’t physically in the room, the projection made her presence tangible. She could interact with anything in Veronica’s quarters, despite being stationed on The Valor—an entirely different cruiser. The trooper’s focus never wavered as she inspected every inch of her weapon, eyes narrowing at imagined imperfections. Satisfied, she set it down beside her, muzzle resting against her armored leg, and finally looked up.

“They gave you the queen suite, huh?” Aryanna smirked. “Bet you didn’t ask for it.”

Veronica snorted as she hung her jacket, the fabric swaying slightly from the motion. “Of course not. You know me.”

Aryanna raised an eyebrow. “I do. That’s why I’m surprised you’re even here, in this palace of a room."

Veronica shrugged, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “It was ready when I got here. Seemed rude to turn it down.” She busied herself folding her clothes, but she felt Aryanna's gaze drilling into her.

"Veronica shrugged, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “It was ready when I got here. Seemed rude to turn it down.” She busied herself folding her clothes, but she felt Aryanna's gaze drilling into her.

“What’s got you all... upbeat?” Aryanna’s tone was laced with suspicion, that habitual edge she picked up from her mentor.

Veronica suppressed a grin, biting her lip as she placed her boots by the bed. “I’m heading to the hospital bay in a few. They’re calling it ‘state-of-the-art.’ Can’t wait to see if it’s true.”

Aryanna scoffed, her armored fingers tapping restlessly on her thigh. “Leave it to you to get excited over a hospital bay. You should be up at the command center, taking command.”

Veronica felt Aryanna’s intensity, even through the projection. The trooper’s fist clenched, as if she could bend the universe to her will with sheer force of personality. Veronica shook her head, suppressing a laugh. Classic Aryanna, always ready for a fight, even when there was none to be had.

“I could.” Veronica’s voice was soft, knowing. “But I won’t.”

“You never want it, do you?” Aryanna’s lip curled, but there was a begrudging admiration in her eyes. “You’d rather be down here, healing the sick and rescuing the forgotten. Admirable... if a bit frustrating

Veronica stopped folding for a moment, her hands still. “I prefer to leave the power games to people who care about them. Now, what do you want, Aryanna? You didn’t call just to chat.”

Aryanna’s smirk faded, replaced by a hardened expression. “Theresa needs you to find a system for the refugees. You know how it goes. The core worlds don’t want them, and the outer systems are basically Persephone’s playground now.”

Veronica’s eyes flickered. Persephone. The Dark Queen’s forces didn’t care for infrastructure or strategy. Just bodies. Her entire war machine was built on raw numbers.

“And the rest of you are too busy ‘salvaging the galaxy,’” Veronica muttered, more to herself than Aryanna.

Aryanna opened her mouth to respond, but the air between them crackled as another projection materialized—Theresa, sitting at a desk, her back to a panoramic view of a distant city. Aryanna, on instinct, dropped to one knee, head bowed. Veronica barely glanced at her.

“I’m not bowing,” Veronica muttered, flicking her wrist to mute Aryanna’s feed, shrinking her hologram to the corner

Theresa didn’t flinch. She just looked at Veronica with that calm, unreadable gaze she’d mastered long ago. “I wasn’t expecting you to,” she said, her voice steady. “We’re equals, after all. Aren’t we, Very?”

Veronica crossed her arms, meeting her gaze without blinking. “Only when it suits us.”

Theresa’s lip twitched, almost a smile, as a star map appeared beside her, the screen hovering between them. A red triangle hovered over one system in particular.

“The Orphanage system,” Theresa said, leaning back. “It’s far enough from the frontlines to avoid attention, but close enough to the core worlds to keep them quiet. It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.”

Veronica’s eyes scanned the specs of the system, her fingers tracing the outline of the planets on the screen. It was nothing special. Just a system with enough space for refugees, but no real strategic value. That’s why it would work.

“You didn’t give them a choice, did you?” Veronica asked without looking up.

Theresa’s smile was thin, almost imperceptible. “Not exactly. I may have suggested their alliance membership might... expire if they refused.”

For a split second, Veronica saw something flicker in Theresa’s eyes. Fatigue. Doubt. Theresa, the unshakeable leader, the face of their entire war effort, looked tired. Old. It was the first time in a long time that Veronica saw her friend beneath the mask.

“I don’t trust them,” Theresa admitted, her voice quieter now. “If left unchecked, they could turn those refugees into a slave workforce. I need someone I can count on to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Veronica's jaw tightened, a flash of anger sparking in her chest. “I’ll make sure they’re treated humanely. You have my word.”

Theresa exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. “You’ll also be rendezvousing with Aryanna’s fleet. It wouldn’t hurt to have some military presence there.

Veronica nodded. “Fine. I’ll notify the commander

Theresa gave a curt nod, the faintest shadow of relief crossing her face before the projection flickered out.

The silence in Aryanna’s quarters stretched for a beat, and then Aryanna’s voice cut through it, unmuted. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Theresa’s voice responded from a different feed, a smirk audible in her tone. “No. She has no idea Syriana is also en route to Orphanage.”

Aryanna rolled her eyes, already knowing the answer. “Why keep her in the dark? She’ll be furious.”

Theresa leaned back, crossing her arms. “Because she didn’t bow.”