Kore knocked three times against the frigid hull of the Hawk's Eye - waited a moment for any sort of reply - and then made her way up the gangplank, drawing her black overcoat tight against the bitter morning air.

Inside, the shuttle was quite comfortably warm, and with a relieved sigh Kore unbuttoned her coat, rubbing her hands together as she glanced around and took stock of her surroundings. The shuttle's welcoming "lobby" remained sparsely furnished, a pale red carpet set against faded, yellowing walls - it was a space that had clearly existed in a state of quiet decay for quite some time. Clearly Ket Sal had not seen fit to supply the former Marquess with one of his more modern vessels.

Kore made her way down a narrow hallway - past an intersection that branched off into various sleeping quarters - and stepped onto a bridge that was just as tan and faded as the rest of the ship's interior.

The captain, Sen Tarsus, was lounging in the central chair with her boots up on a nearby terminal, reading from a holographic-display tablet with her mouth drawn into a thin line. Then, her eyes flicked to Kore - and with a grunt she rose to her feet, snapping off a quick salute.

"Morning, Chief," Tarsus said.

"Good morning, Captain Tarsus," Kore replied evenly.

The captain was a tall, slim woman, her body lean and somewhat elongated from countless years of exposure to zero-gravity, and her auburn hair was tied back into a messy bun. Her uniform - similar to Kore's own, but sporting two blue stripes to denote her as captain of a naval vessel - hung loose and unbuttoned, revealing a jet-black undershirt and a hint of some manner of tattoo crawling up the side of her collarbone.

In their few weeks of spaceflight to Proxima, Kore had found Captain Tarsus to be casual, pragmatic, and entirely unflappable - and she had liked her almost immediately.

"What's the word, Chief?" Tarsus asked, dropping the pretense of formal deference at once. "If you're wanting to set off today-" she jerked her head at the tablet, "-I'd like at least a few hours to run some final checks first. The Eye ain't done a jump like Callisto-Proxima in damn near half a decade, and you wouldn't believe the screws it shook loose." She patted the terminal affectionately. "You know I take good care of her, though."

"Of course," Kore said, her tone neutral. This was the Kore she projected to her subordinates - flat, laconic, and perpetually serious. It was, all things considered, not a particularly difficult role to play. "But no, Captain, we won't be leaving right away. By Liege Jaheed's estimation, we're likely to be casting off sometime late this evening. If the shuttle's condition will allow it, that is."

"Don't you worry 'bout the Eye's condition," Tarsus chided, clicking her tongue. "If you need her, she'll be ready. That's my girl right there." Again, she patted at the terminal.

"Good," Kore said simply, inclining her head. "I do, however, have two further points to address."

"Go ahead."

"First," Kore said. "As soon as the ship is ready, I want engines warm at all times."

At that, the captain raised an eyebrow.

"Are we planning on a quick exit?" she asked, her expression growing wary. Kore knew little of Tarsus's service record but was certain, then, that the other woman had seen more than her fair share of quick exits.

"It could very well be required," Kore said, choosing her words carefully. "The situation here is...uncertain. So if I make a call, captain, and I tell you we need to leave now, I need to know that this ship can be airborne the moment we set foot upon the deck."

"...gotcha," Tarsus said, after a moment, nodding her head. "Wouldn't be the first time I had to pull a hot exit. Uh. Ma'am."

"I'm sure," Kore said, a hint of a smile playing across her face as her suspicions were confirmed. The Scion had, unintentionally or otherwise, provided Jaheed with nothing short of an exemplary ship-captain.

"So what's the second thing, then?" Tarsus asked, leaning back against the terminal and folding her arms, and immediately Kore's small half-smile was wiped away.

Here it was, now. The crux of the issue.

Sen Tarsus was by no means one of Mercury's favored pilots. Her career was a dead-end, her skill overshadowed by her disregard for authority and her penchant for playing fast and loose with any rules set before her. She was, in theory, a person who would rather die than report the existence of Kore's secret to the powers-that-be.

Or was she? What if it was all an act - the carefully constructed faux-personality of one of Ket Sal's agents, her very being manufactured to lure Jaheed and Kore into a false sense of security? She had trusted Diesch, opened up to him - and look how the Inspector had repaid her. A similar fate might very well await her now, with the very woman charged with flying and maintaining their vessel.

Ah, what the hell. Kore had already told her that there were two things - she had might as well follow through.

"You may catch glimpses of a woman, here on the ship, from time to time," Kore began, to which Tarsus furrowed her brow but did not reply. "Blonde hair, denim jacket - nowhere on the flight list. You might see her in the cargo bay, or snag her on the cam footage."

"Okay..." Tarsus trailed off, even more wary than before now. "Are we talking about a stowaway, here?"

"Indeed."

"And you want me to just..." again, Tarsus' tone was skeptical, "...ignore her?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Mind if I ask why?"

"Her position is-" Kore started - but no. She didn't know this woman. She couldn't possibly trust her with that. "I can't go into detail, Captain, but I can assure you that her presence is a good thing for all of us."

"Then why not have her on the flight registry?"

"Her status is-"

"Are you asking me to harbor a fugitive?"

"She-"

"Does liege Jaheed know?"

"The less Jaheed knows," Kore said firmly, "the better. For him."

"Ohhh," Tarsus said, leaning her head back - and Kore was relieved to see a wry, mischievous smile spreading across the Captain's face. "Very, very interesting. I knew I liked you, Chief."

"You'll turn a blind eye, then?" Kore asked, reaching up and straightening her cap. Maintaining the illusion of stoic control.

"That depends - is she half-decent as a mechanic?" Tarsus asked, rising to her full height. "Because shit, Captain, I wouldn't say no to some actual help around here."

"I'll-" Kore paused. Truth be told, she had no idea. "I'll talk to her."

"Good enough for me, then," Tarsus scoffed, extending a hand, and Kore shook it at once. "Now if you'll excuse me, Chief, I got a helluva lotta work to do here before the Eye is back up to ninety-nine percent."

"Not a hundred?" Kore asked, to which Tarsus gave a wry chuckle.

"Waddya think this is, a yacht?"

-----

Diesch met Jaheed and Kore that morning with folded hands and a pensive stare. For once, there was no cigarette clenched between the lanky man's teeth. And the bags beneath his eyes were even deeper and darker than usual - he clearly hadn't slept.

Those eyes, weary and alert all at once, fell upon Kore for just a moment before flicking to Jaheed.

"I'm sorry to report that there's been a breach of security, Noble Marques," Diesch said, bowing at the waist. On him, the gesture looked utterly out of place.

"I heard as much," Jaheed replied, with picture-perfect solemnity. "Kore spoke of the violence that took place last night. It was quite a fantastical scene, if the anecdotes are to be believed."

"It was indeed something of an unusual matter," Diesch said, his words and tone revealing nothing. Kore couldn't help but wonder to herself how close Diesch might be to uncovering the truth. There were other groups in the Domain that employed silent, terrifying cyborg assassins - but none that struck as quietly and lethally as the Se-dai. Kore prayed, silently, that Diesch had chosen to disbelieve that which his eyes were telling him to be true. After all, the very concept of a rogue Se-dai was all but unheard of.

Wait - unless Diesch thought it was a real Se-dai who had killed that man. That would immediately draw Diesch's suspicions that Jaheed was an agent of the Emperor - and what's more, the killing had occurred at exactly the moment Kore had needed an escape. If Diesch drew the line from the Se-dai to Kore, and from Kore to Jaheed...

Kore studied his face - but again, the Inspector's countenance revealed nothing. She strove to do the same.

"Nevertheless," Diesch was saying, "though the matter is well in hand, I must ask that you travel today with a full compliment of armed guards. I myself will be absent for most of the day, as I work to ensure the safety and security of this palace once more."

"I defer to your wisdom, Inspector," Jaheed said, with an easy smile. "Though I must inquire - does this increased level of security indicate that the culprit has not yet been found?"

To his credit, Diesch's expression did not change.

"Security, by nature," he said, spreading his palms, "is forever a work in progress. But I do feel confident in saying, once again, that we have the situation well in hand."

"Well," Jaheed said, after allowing the silence to hang just momentarily. "That's good enough for me!"

"I'm glad to hear it," Diesch smiled slightly. Then, his eyes flicked back to Kore, and something shifted behind his flat countenance. "Lord Marquess - if I might have a word with your Chief of Security, for a moment? It's little more than a clerical matter."

Kore's chest tightened. She did not reply.

"By all means," Jaheed said, gesturing to Kore, and the two of them stepped aside as Jaheed turned and pretended to be enraptured by a painting of a vicious, mud-strewn battlefield.

Kore stood at strict attention, shoulders straight and hands clasped tight behind her back. Give him nothing, she told herself. Give him fucking nothing. Whatever it was Diesch thought he knew, he didn't. And if he did - Sekhmet was there. Always her shadow. Always her protector. There was nothing Diesch or Sorrel or anybody on Proxima could do to hurt her as long as Sekhmet was watching.

"I want to apologize," Diesch said, quietly, "for last night."

Kore blinked.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

"You know what I mean," Diesch said, his eyes flicking back and forth. "That wasn't fair. Pretending to be drunk, luring you into false confidence. Interrogating you during what was supposed to be a friendly round of drinks."

"That's your job, Diesch," Kore said, forcing her surprise and confusion down beneath a mask of professional indifference. "I can't possibly fault you for it."

"Well, I think it was overboard," Diesch replied. "And cruel. My job dictates that I see people as little more than bundles of facts, lies, and potential threats - sometimes I forgot that people are, well, people, too.

"Thank you, Diesch," Kore said, unsure of how else to even reply. The apology should have warmed her heart - but she had seen Diesch turn his humanity on and off like a switch. It was simply impossible to take him at face value now.

"If I might ask away from my liege's ears, then," Kore said, tactfully steering things in a new direction. "Have you found anything on the identity of last night's killer? Might my liege still be in some prospective danger?"

"What I've found..." Diesch trailed off, his mouth pressing into a thin line - visibly considering just how much he should reveal to a woman who was, ostensibly, both ally and enemy both. "Whomever they were, they weren't entirely human."

"I figured as much," Kore said, nodding her head. This was fine - it had been an obvious conclusion to draw from the start. "From the brief glimpse I caught of them, they were little more than a blur. Speed like that can only mean cybernetics."

"Agreed. But there's more to it - the victim was under a false name, a false face, and carried with him a pair of concealed weapons he somehow managed to slip past the security check." He regarded Kore wearily. "By all appearances, our first assassin was there only to thwart our second."

"This is a mess," Kore said, after a moment.

"You're telling me," Diesch nodded. "For now, all I can do is be patient and unravel it, thread by thread. And in the meantime, we watch. And we wait."

-----

The remainder of Kore's day was mercifully uneventful. She and Jaheed were led about to all manner of shops, sights, and tourist destinations by the high-spirited Duke, who spoke in booming and invigorated tones of his love for the people and culture of Proxima. And all the while, though Diesch was gone, his presence nevertheless starkly felt as the three of them were surrounded at all times by stern-faced, rifle-toting guards. At every checkpoint, nay, at every corner one of Diesch's men was lurking, eyes on alert for any sign of the cyborg killer lurking in their midst.

Despite this constant display of force, Kore found herself oddly at-ease. Finally, Diesch's attention was directed elsewhere - finally he was looking anywhere other than at her. His telescopic lens had been turned upon an individual whom Kore was certain, after all, was more than a match for the Chief Inspector. The way Sekhmet simply melded into shadow still defied all belief.

And yet, relieved as she was, there was also an odd air of finality hanging about Kore's thoughts. A feeling as though all she saw was but a dream, temporary and ready to be shattered at a moment's notice. As the Duke led them through the great halls of the palace, Kore could not help but imagine rows and rows of Liquidators swarming up those grand stairs like a mass of black beetles, emerald disruptor beams intersecting and scything down every one of Diesch's men in a grid of white-hot death. And she pictured, too, the wiry figures of the Se-dai stalking like wraiths in the mist, all of them invincible and moving faster than the eye could possibly see.

It was as though she could already see this place in ruins.

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Kore didn't quite know how to feel about that.

And so, the hours passed, and she stood now in her room, alone, at the close of day, her few belongings already showed away upon the waiting shuttle. Sekhmet was nowhere to be seen. And she pondered the las-pistol in her hand, for a moment, before tucking it into her thigh-holster and pulling her cap snug over her skull. A myriad of thoughts bubbled to the surface of her mind, unprompted - but Kore merely shoved them down and moved to the door. Later, she thought to herself. All time for regrets would come later.

The door hissed open - and Jaheed was waiting there, hands folded, his expression unusually somber. His eyes met hers and Kore saw at once that all day Jaheed had been picturing the exact same thing. Devastation.

"Well then," Jaheed said simply. "Let's get the fuck out of this place."

"Yeah," Kore grunted, reaching up and straightening her collar. "Let's."

-----

Jaheed and Kore strode shoulder-to-shoulder across the vastly-elevated tarmac, the midnight air whipping and howling at their coats - Kore's a black military trench, Jaheed's a finery-embroidered jacket - as a trio of moons hung in a brilliant triangle overhead.

Despite the freezing cold, Kore couldn't help but walk with something of a spring in her step. She thought of Sekhmet - thought of the warmth of her skin, the heat of her breath, thought of the true and unguarded safety she'd feel when she was alone with her again tonight. She thought about sleeping in the same bed as her - the Se-dai's presence an anchoring bulwark against anything and everything that would make do her harm. She thought about-

"Is that Diesch?" Jaheed blurted out - and Kore snapped back to reality and saw him standing there, coat flaring back, directly blocking their path to the shuttle. There was an unlit cigarette clenched between his teeth.

An alarm was wailing in the back of Kore's mind.

"What the hell is this?" Jaheed hissed, visibly taken aback. "Surely he doesn't-"

"Let me do the talking," Kore said simply, her heart pounding in her chest. "I know him."

"Alright," Jaheed gulped, and nodded, and then once more he had donned the face of aristocratic indifference. Contempt, even, and naked irritation at the presence of an obstacle before him. "You take the lead."

The wind was howling even louder as Kore and Jaheed approached.

"Marquess Vell," Diesch called, inclining his head. "Chief Kore." His words were rigidly formal - and quite unlike him.

"Inspector Diesch," Kore answered, matching him with formality of her own. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Diesch said, shaking his head. "Nothing's the matter. I just had a few questions for you both, if you don't mind."

"Is this really necessary?" Jaheed asked, carefully lining his words with the unspoken sort of threat that all highborn seemed able to conjure at will. His meaning was clear - get out of my way now, or I will make your life very difficult. "We're quite literally on our way out. I don't know what kind of threat we could possibly pose-"

"Please," Diesch said calmly, holding up his hands. "Just a moment of your time."

There was something odd, something strained in his tone. Danger pricked at the back of Kore's neck, and she allowed her hand to drift surreptitiously to her holstered weapon. She didn't look - but she could feel Jaheed tensing beside her, too. It was in the air, then. Every one of them could feel it.

"Mister Diesch," Jaheed growled, taking a single step forward - perfectly blocking Diesch's line of sight on her gun. It was surprisingly slick of him. Slowly, Kore's fingers undid the clasp and wrapped tight around the grip of her weapon. "I am Marquess of the Vell Dynasty, and I am telling you, lowborn, that I have a great many important matters to attend to. Your presence is impeding my work and as such I am ordering you to step aside. Need I take more drastic measures?"

It was a hollow, put-upon threat - Diesch knew well that Kore was the only weapon currently at Jaheed's disposal - but nevertheless, Diesch relented, turning halfway on his heel towards the waiting ship and gesturing for the others to go ahead.

"Look," he was saying, "maybe we can continue this conversation somewhere-"

Kore caught a flash of steel on his hip, and without thinking she leapt forward, shoving Jaheed down and throwing herself overtop him.

Two shots rang out - shrill, piercing retorts of a plasma revolver - and Kore felt the impacts slam like battering rams against her back. The armored plate concealed beneath her uniform did its job, absorbing the brunt of the blow and stopping the bolts from ripping through Kore's insides, but as the shots connected and dissipated the heat diffused over the surface of the plate, searing Kore's skin around the edges.

She let out a gasp of pain, the wind knocked from her lungs and the skin of her back beginning to smoke and char - and then she grit her teeth and swung around, las-pistol in hand and ready without a doubt to unleash death upon her foe.

Diesch had vanished.

Quickly, Kore was helping Jaheed to his feet, and wordlessly she signaled for Jaheed to take cover behind one of countless nearby crates as she swept the barrel of her weapon across the metal forest they had found themselves in the midst of. In the corner of her eye, there was a flash of movement - of a tan overcoat - and Kore leapt to cover, a trio of bolts slapping against the pavement where she had stood a mere half-second before. She was breathing heavily, now, the pain of her charred back coming in waves, but she shook her head and forced herself to peer around the corner - only to duck back at once as another plasma bolt ripped through the open air.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Jaheed bellowed, from behind a crate of his own. There was righteous, indignant fury in his voice - but to Kore's eyes, it was blatantly clear that the highborn was nothing short of utterly terrified. "You would dare harm - nay kill a highborn? I didn't know you were Se-dai, Diesch!"

Se-dai - wait. Oh shit. Sekhmet.

Kore dared to glance around the other side of the crate - and saw nothing, not even a shade of the warrior she knew must be stalking Diesch now, preparing to snuff out his life before he could possibly even hope to react.

She couldn't let that happen. Diesch was a good man. This was all just a misunderstanding. She couldn't just-

"I don't know what you're talking about," Diesch's voice came, followed by another pair of shots. "The Marquess and his bodyguard were gunned down by an assassin - the same assassin who killed a man in that restaurant last night."

"So the Duke doesn't know?" Jaheed shouted. "Have you lost your mind?! I'll see you atomized for this insanity!"

Then, Kore saw it - a flicker of a shadow, darting with blinding speed from box to box. It was Sekhmet, she knew, weaving her way towards Diesch's end. Towards saving Kore's life.

Bizarrely - inexplicably - it was in that moment that Kore realized she might very well be in love with that woman.

Nevertheless:

"Stop!" Kore bellowed, her voice rising even above the shrieking and whistling of the wind. "Don't kill him!"

"What?" Diesch demanded. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

Kore used the opportunity to leap around the corner, pistol raised - but Diesch was smart, damn him, and he had held his ground. The revolver let out a yelp and Kore was flying back, her chest burning and her breath ragged. That was both armor plates, now. No more second chances.

Jaheed was looking up at her in silent question as Kore pulled herself to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain. Fuck this, she swore to herself. Fuck Diesch for being a good man that she couldn't just allow Sekhmet to slaughter.

"So, where was the lie?" Kore called, between gasping breaths of pain. For a moment, there was only the howling of the wind in reply.

"What?" Diesch demanded, finally.

"Where did we lie?" Kore repeated. "What evidence is there that we deserve to be gunned down in the night like a pair of common criminals?"

"Surely we at least deserve to hear the charges!" Jaheed added on.

"I don't need evidence!" Diesch snarled in immediate reply. "Not when I have intuition! And you two are as crooked as any I've ever seen."

"That's not-" Jaheed started.

"You're fake!" Diesch roared. "Liars, both of you! I can tell, I can always tell!"

"And that's enough to kill me for?" Kore demanded. "Just a hunch?"

"You lied to my face, Kore!"

"No, Abel, I was stupid enough to trust you!" Kore shot back. "Listen to me, damnit! I can't know what it was like to kill that man, all those years ago. I've been lucky enough so far to never experience that emptiness you described. And I know it's...it's against everything the world has ever taught you to actually trust another person. But I need you to hear it from the mouth of me, Kore, your friend - your drinking buddy - that Jaheed and I are exactly what we seem, okay?" She glanced back at Jaheed. "Right now, Abel, all I wanna do is go home. Can I please go home?"

A long silence. Then:

"Sorrel is a good man!" Diesch shouted. "A good man surrounded by enemies! Do you know how rare that is - a highborn who actually cares for his people?!"

Kore thought of Sorrel's invitation of the omnicidal Crimson Emir to his very world - and chose to keep that bit of information to herself.

"Duke Sorrel is all but an uncle to me!" Jaheed called, daring to rise to his feet now. "He was my father's closest friend! I wouldn't dare lay a finger on him, and to anyone that would-" he filled his voice with as much dark gravitas as he could muster, "-I would see them crushed by the hand of Vell!"

"We're telling the truth, Abel!" Kore added, the grip of her las-pistol growing slick with sweat. "All we want now is to go home."

It was the longest silence yet that followed - and then, finally, the revolver clattered to the ground between them.

"Come on out," Diesch said - and Kore stepped from behind her makeshift cover to see the man as small and disheveled and weary as she had ever known him.

Jaheed watched with a mixture of wariness and barely-concealed fury as Kore moved to stand before him, and the Inspector looked up at the larger woman with nothing less than pure, naked shame.

"Forgive me," he said, his voice all but a whisper. "I'm so very tired."

"So am I, Abel," Kore said - and she could think of nothing more to add. "So am I."

The two of them stood there for some time, their burgeoning friendship now forever rent to pieces - until finally Jaheed emerged from behind his cover and moved to join them.

"This incident will, of course, be-" Jaheed coughed. "Forgotten, Mister Diesch. Your service record has been nothing short of exemplary. If Duke Sorrel was not made aware of these proceedings-"

"-then he doesn't need to know, either," Kore said, forcing herself to give him the smallest of smiles. And then the enormity, the agony of what she was doing to this man and to his people struck her like a bolt of lightning to the skull, and suddenly Kore found that she couldn't even bear to look at him.

Jaheed said some further pleasantries - Diesch uttered further apologies - farewells were exchanged, and then Kore and Jaheed were aboard the Hawk's Eye as the engines roared brilliant azure and the gangplank rose, allowing Kore just a brief final glance at Diesch as he stood there, small and alone amidst the black night and the surging wind. And then the gangplank sealed shut, and Kore and Jaheed were alone.

"By the void," Jaheed sighed, running his trembling hands down the sides of his face. "That paranoid madman was nearly the death of us."

"It isn't paranoia if we actually mean to betray him," Kore countered, with anima that surprised even herself - to which Jaheed shot her a pointed look.

"We fulfilled our duties to Holy Mercury," he said, simply. It was more recitation than rebuttal. "We did as we were tasked, and we did in near-perfect fashion. The Emperor will be quite pleased."

"That doesn't change the fact that we just betrayed an entire world."

"No," Jaheed said, firmly but gently. "We did not betray Proxima. The Sorrel's betrayed Proxima, by courting a man who would see their sky boiled and their land turned to molten glass. I do truly believe, as Diesch said, that Sorrel is a well-meaning man, and I cannot say what manner of desperation drove him to the Emir's arms. But the facts remain the facts. We have just rescued the people of Proxima from all but certain annihilation."

Kore didn't speak for some time. Finally, Jaheed let out a sigh, laying a hand upon her shoulder.

"This is our first step towards real power," he said. "And with that power, we can finally begin the work of making the Domain a better place."

"A noble goal, then," Kore swallowed. "No matter how much horrible shit we gotta do to achieve it." She forced herself to believe those words as they spilled out, boiling and bitter, from her throat.

"It's an imperfect world," Jaheed said, smiling slightly. "All we can do is make the best of it."

With that, the highborn turned, no doubt intending to retire to his quarters. He made it halfway across the lobby when Kore finally decided to say it.

"I have," she said, and the former Marquess paused, "one request."

He turned.

"Go on."

"When you write your report, to Holy Mercury," Kore said, and slowly her voice was hardening until it became clear that this was a command, not a request, "I ask that you recommend Abel Diesch to be spared in the purge to follow."

"The purge?" Jaheed asked.

"Don't play dumb," Kore snapped. "You and I both know what's about to happen to those people."

"Hmm," Jaheed mused, scratching at his chin. It was no sardonic gesture - he appeared to genuinely be weighing the consequences of such a decision. "He did just try to kill us, you know. We truly should have him atomized."

"He was doing his job," Kore said. "We're the ones that-"

"Yeah, yeah," Jaheed muttered, waving a hand, and for the first time Kore thought she could make out a pang of guilt in the former Marquess's voice. "I know. But listen - it isn't going to be an easy sell. Everything about Diesch screams that he would be a dissident under any new regime."

"He's also incredibly talented, with a spotless record," Kore countered. "He would be invaluable asset to anyone - especially a new, temporary regent trying to keep the peace."

Jaheed gave her a long, strange look - and then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Very well," he said, and he keyed the door open behind him. "I'll see what I can do. Goodnight, Kore."

That was as good as she was going to get. And as good as he was going to get, too.

"Goodnight, my liege."

-----

And so, Kore made her way down that pallid-yellow hall, feeling the subtle rumble of the ship's engine through the soles of her boots as the lights flickered briefly - a small symptom of their transition to sublight speed.

There was a black, yawning pit of sadness at the bottom of her stomach - the kind of vivid despair and self-loathing that makes one's breath catch in their own throat. There was no mission, no objective. No job to occupy her thoughts. Nothing but the reality of what she had just done and the person that she knew she now was.

Her finger tapped once, twice, thrice against her keypad and then the door was sliding shut behind her as she stepped into what had been for weeks of travel - and what was, now, once again - her room. It was a small, slanted little hovel, the only illumination a faded light emanating from the seam where canted ceiling met wall. It was also, for all intents and purposes, home.

And, of course, Sekhmet was already there.

Kore glanced at the Se-dai - forced herself to give a small, strained smile - then threw her cap aside, unholstered her weapon, unbuttoned her uniform, and simply flopped face-first into bed.

"I'm sorry," Sekhmet's voice came, small and quiet.

Kore strongly considered just keeping her mouth shut and falling asleep.

"It's okay," she muttered through her pillow, instead. "It was the right thing to do."

"I know," Sekhmet replied, after a moment. "But still. I'm sorry."

Slowly, Kore turned to face her - to face the cybernetic abomination who might very well be her only friend in the entire Domain. She was looking down at her with sympathy so raw and unguarded that Kore found herself caught off-guard.

"What did I tell you, the other night?" Sekhmet asked, gently. "It isn't your fault."

"You broke away," Kore replied bitterly, forcing herself to sit upright. Shame burned at the back of her throat as she spoke. "You didn't allow yourself to be a weapon in someone else's hands."

"Oh, Kore," Sekhmet sighed, moving to sit beside the larger woman. Their shoulders brushed together, and once again Kore was quietly astounded that she could feel so comfortable beside such a tremendously dangerous individual.

"It took me a long, long time," Sekhmet said, smiling sadly. "And it wasn't because I thought what I was doing was wrong. I don't regret a single person I've ever killed, you know, and I'm sorry if that's upsetting for you to hear. But I did what I did because I couldn't stand to be a pawn - to be an extension of someone else. It was a selfish choice, you see, however noble it might appear. And, unlike you, I had certain," she held up a hand, closing her fingers into a fist then opening them once again, "-advantages. Even then, it wasn't easy to slip my leash. Even now my cousins are hunting for me."

"But you did it," Kore said simply. "You're free, and I'm a slave. And we're all slaves, aren't we? All just dancing to the tune of that man." She shook her head. "Me, Jaheed, Diesch, Sorrel - we're all just pieces on a board, doing what we're supposed to do."

"I'll fight for you," Sekhmet said, finally, and Kore realized with surprising sadness that such a response was the only thing the Se-dai truly knew. It was her only method of confronting a problem - to fight it, and to fight harder than anyone had ever fought before. "If you want, I could kill everyone aboard this ship right now and you could go anywhere. Do anything. Be anyone. You don't have to-"

"This is what I signed up for," Kore interrupted, and this time she was the one offering a sad smile. "Jaheed and I have a pact to do whatever we can - whatever we must to make the Domain a better place. And if the only path to doing so is through servitude? Through doing terrible shit in the name of a terrible man?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Well. The job is the job."

"But do you really believe that?" Sekhmet asked, cocking her head to the side. Kore's breath caught in her throat.

"I think I have to," she choked out, finally.

The two of them did not exchange another word. Soon, the room was cast into darkness, and Kore was dead asleep as the crepuscular Se-dai sat at the foot of her bed, arms folded around her knees and silver-grey eyes locked onto the room's only entrance - perpetually on guard, just as she had been born and bred to do. And as Sekhmet kept watch, Kore dreamed of places and visions and colors and futures and all manner of things the likes of which she could scarcely comprehend and would not possibly remember come morning.

Two doors down, Jaheed lay in bed, wide awake, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared up at a decaying ceiling. His mind was swirling with names and faces and dates and plans and lies and promises and threats and fears and longings and all of it was to drown out, to push down the face of his brother. And of his sister.

And of his father. There would be no sleep for the Marquess this night.

And thus, the two of them hurtled through space, on towards holy Mercury - on towards a cataclysmic future that neither of them could possibly have anticipated.

On they raced into the hands of the Jade Emperor.