Cassidy was expressionless, stood before the window with the weak morning light crawling into their safehouse above the Velvet Spire as he listened to Q’ira and Aryn’s explanation. When they were done, he was silent for a long time before he gave a slow nod.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘All we got out of anyone who’d talk to us was that T’Mell was locking things down.’ He looked at Q’ira. ‘These lieutenants, the guys in the meeting. Do you know where they live? Places we can get to them away from Redoubt? Places they’re vulnerable.’

She stood in a way Rosewood by now knew was a pretense of poise, leaning against a door-frame with indifference so strong it had to be feigned. The flicker of her eyelashes as she nodded was, he thought, a giveaway. ‘I know places. I can do a list -’

‘No. Not yet.’ Cassidy shook his head. ‘First things first: we sleep.’

Rosewood raised an eyebrow. ‘What happened to the whole, “the Changeling won’t be resting so we don’t rest” thing?’

‘It’s not coming for us. It’s got what it wants. Odds are good it’s left the planet by now. So we have until Blackbird gets here to gather intel. We sleep, then tonight, we go get that info.’ Another curt nod. ‘Go. Sleep.’

Q’ira left first, sliding into the bedroom, and Rosewood was about to leave, too, before he saw Cassidy catch Aryn’s eye in a way that made the science officer linger. He let Nallera take one of the rooms, before Rosewood slunk to hide in the shadow of the doorway of the third, pull the door to, and waited.

‘What is it, Boss?’ Aryn sounded tired, taut.

Likely for good reason, as there was a thudding footstep, a grunt, and a thump. Rosewood’s brow furrowed, and he peered about the door to see Cassidy pinning the wiry Aryn against a wall, forearm pressing on his chest.

‘When I say “stay here and watch her” I mean “stay here and watch her,”’ Cassidy hissed. ‘I don’t mean “run off on your own.”’

‘I – I took a calculated risk.’ Aryn’s voice was strained. Cassidy’s forearm might not have just been pressing on his chest. ‘We can trust her.’

‘We don’t know her. She was doing Torrad-Var’s bidding helping us on Ilior; no more, no less. She’s here because she’s got no better option. We should pray she doesn’t find one.’

‘And is… treating her like a traitor about to backstab us really helping make us look like the best option?’ Aryn wheezed. ‘She’s got to trust us.’

‘Trust?’ Cassidy snarled. ‘Look at where we are. Look at what just happened. You think we’re going to get through this on trust against an enemy who exploits it? We’ll get through this one way, and one way only: by you doing what I goddamn say.’

‘Cassidy -’

‘I got you out of that forsaken lab, I got you out of that inquiry where they were gonna hang you out to dry. I gave you purpose when the galaxy was about to spit you out, Aryn. Don’t you forget.’ Cassidy all but slammed him against the wall before stepping away. ‘Now get some sleep, and tomorrow you better be thinking like a member of this team – my team – instead of the hanger-on of some Syndicate side-piece.’

Rosewood held his breath as he heard Aryn stumble off, saw the shadow of the science officer pass the door, and waited for him to step into a bunkroom and close the door before he stepped out. Cassidy stood by the window again, glowering into the early morning light.

‘Is that how you inspire everyone in tough times?’ he asked, voice flat. ‘Remind them that they owe you?’

Cassidy spun on the spot. Rosewood had clearly surprised him, and he clearly didn’t like it. ‘Aryn and Nallera have been with me a while. Don’t presume you know how we work together.’

‘You’d worked with Tiran a while and didn’t see this coming, so forgive me if I don’t find your read on people that convincing,’ Rosewood said airily, wandering over.

Cassidy’s fist clenched. ‘You smug, idiot kid -’

‘A smug, idiot kid who wants the same thing you do: to find that Changeling, stop it, and bring it to justice.’

‘Justice,’ Cassidy spat. ‘There’s no such concept for those things. What do you do, lock it up in a Federation rehab facility?’

‘At the end of the Dominion War, we charged the Founder -’

‘They’re a hive mind when they’re together. We charged her for political purposes. It was like condemning the pinkie finger of a serial killer,’ Cassidy sneered. ‘Nobody knows about this thing, so there’s no need to make a show of the criminal justice system so everyone feels better. And it can’t be rehabilitated. Unless you’re here to tell me everything can be saved?’

Rosewood felt the tension in his chest quiver, the embers in him sparking not merely at Cassidy’s sneer, but at the idea of treating the entity that had replaced and murdered their colleague with such lenience. ‘Okay. Forget the philosophy. We still want the same thing: to find it and stop it.’

‘Thanks for the show of support,’ Cassidy grunted. ‘I assumed.’

‘Is that why you treated Aryn like a liability just then?’

‘Aryn likes to pretend he doesn’t have feelings,’ came the flat response. ‘Or at least, that he’s not beholden to them. That he’s smarter and more rational than everyone else. So he ignores it when he’s being emotional – and he’s being emotional about the girl.’ Cassidy shrugged. ‘I think she came through, actually. And if the Changeling’s taking over Aestri’s identity, we can use her.’

‘You mean, we have shared interests and can work together.’

‘Sure.’ Cassidy’s lip curled. ‘Fact remains, Aryn’s exhausted and pretending his head’s straight when it ain’t. So yeah, I sent him to bed with no supper, and a reminder what side his bread’s buttered. He’ll wake up thinking clearly, and convince himself he’s rationally decided to stick with the group.’ His eyes raked over Rosewood, cold and appraising. ‘Play nice with him tomorrow to drive the point home, if you really want.’

Rosewood worked his jaw. ‘I don’t get you. You’re clearly furious about Tiran, about losing her. But here you go, treating the team you’ve got left like tools.’

Cassidy scoffed. ‘Should I be crying? Would that help?’

‘I know what you’re doing, too: giving me the tools to manipulate Aryn, so I take the softer approach and you can keep the harsh one.’

‘I mean, you can let the girl keep on pouring honey in his ear,’ Cassidy said with a shrug. ‘You can even play nice with all three of them, convince yourself you’re the shoulder they cry and rely on in this tough time. But when push comes to shove, we need decisiveness, and we need action. That’s what they trust me for. That’s what they need me for.’

‘Actually,’ sighed Rosewood, ‘you’re trying to bully and influence the team because that makes you feel like you still have control over something, anything.’

‘Don’t tell me Aryn didn’t need handling. And, again – should I cry? I know what I am. I know what I’m doing.’ He met Rosewood’s gaze. ‘Better than you, pretending you got a handle on things, pretending you’re high and mighty.’

‘I’m tired.’

‘You’re pissed off to high heaven, and you have been since Ilior. I’m guessing you didn’t take too kindly to your captain being replaced by one of these things. But you tell yourself your role here is to be the civilised one, the guy who still remembers the warm glow of the Core Worlds and Starfleet policy and all that good stuff. So it makes you feel better to think I’m out of control, while you got a handle on everything.’ To Rosewood’s surprise, Cassidy ended this with a smile. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

‘God.’ Rosewood rolled his eyes. ‘You think everyone’s as cynical and manipulative as you.’

‘Nah. I just know a born liar when I see one.’ Cassidy waved a hand before he could reply, then smothered a yawn. ‘Taking my own advice. Getting some sleep. It’ll look better in the… well. Evening.’

Despite the exhaustion that made Rosewood feel like he’d been stretched from the tip of the tallest tower on Kalviris to down here in the depths, sleep did not come easily. The mattress was lumpy, the room had a weird smell, and the sounds of the city by day shuddered in through the cheap walls.

It did not help that it was late afternoon by the time he woke up, stumbling into the corridor to find Nallera the only one up. The burly woman stood in front of the window, silhouetted by the golden light that could just about creep down to this level, stretching through a yoga routine Rosewood had to admit looked like it would help.

‘Finding your zen yet?’ he drawled.

‘That or I gotta stay limber to kick a goo-person in the face,’ grunted Nallera halfway through a move. ‘My back is killing me.’

‘Right? We need a better quality of safe house.’ He glanced over at the resequencer. ‘Is that thing still gonna feed us slop?’

‘I think it might be hard-wired to produce nothing but stale noodles.’

‘Hm.’ Rosewood looked from it to the window and the bustling streets. ‘Finish up. And come with me.’

Finding a street vendor who’d serve them sizzling meat in a bun that felt close enough to breakfast food for this time of day wasn’t too hard, and the spring in Nallera’s step as she grabbed the bundle of foil-wrapped sandwiches confirmed he’d made the right choice. The second search took a little longer, with the sun setting already on the tall towers of Kalviris, but the look in Aryn’s eye when they got back to the top floor of the Velvet Spire with not only breakfast, but coffee and other drinks, made him even more sure.

‘Eat up, drink up,’ Rosewood said, tossing him a foil-wrapped breakfast burger and handing over a disposable mug of coffee. ‘No battle for justice to be fought on an empty stomach.’

‘I got two kinds of cheese and three kinds of meat,’ Nallera gushed as she plonked down on the sofa and unwrapped her food. ‘I don’t even know what kinds of meat. I don’t even care.’

‘Zayna’s gonna kill me,’ said Q’ira when she eventually emerged to find the three of them sat on the floor, drinking hot coffee and eating breakfast sandwiches whose tantalising smell had filled the apartment. ‘You went to Oembe’s? I think they signed a blood-pact to be immortal enemies about a decade ago.’

‘He was great,’ gushed Nallera, and gestured to the cluster of drinks and food on the table. ‘Your old boss has excellent taste in nemeses.’

Rosewood smirked up at her. ‘You don’t have to eat it. But I did get you a smoothie.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. And took the smoothie.

When Cassidy emerged, he looked unmoved by the gathered Rooks and Q’ira, or the indulgent spread of food and drink. But Nallera still threw him a foil-wrapped sandwich, and he grabbed a cup of coffee, and they all sat together for a few minutes to eat and drink. It wasn’t, Rosewood thought, particularly good food. But for a moment – just a moment – they weren’t strung out and betrayed, on the run and chasing a monster.

Cassidy sucked cheese off his thumb when he was done, nodding in appreciation. ‘Alright,’ he grunted, sounding more like his normal, grumpy self instead of oozing fury from every pore. He looked up at them. ‘We still need answers. Let’s go find us a Syndicate lieutenant who’ll give ‘em.’