The room tightens.
Not loud.
Not open.
But immediate.
“That’s a risk,” another voice adds.
“Everything is,” I reply.
“That’s not the same,” he says. “This changes how they see us.”
“It changes how they respond to us,” I correct. “That’s the point.”
A low murmur moves through the room, not quite disagreement, not quite acceptance, but something in between that feels more unstable than either.
“They’ll test that,” someone says.
“They already did,” I reply.
That stops the conversation from drifting.
“They pushed for terms,” I continue. “They assumed structure. We used it.”
“That wasn’t you,” the first voice says, sharper now. “That was her.”
There it is.
I let that sit for a moment, long enough that everyone in the room feels it.
Then I nod.
“Yes,” I say.
The reaction is immediate.
Subtle.
But there.
“You’re crediting her,” someone says.
“I’m stating fact,” I reply.
“That puts her above crew,” another says.
“No,” I say. “It puts her where she’s useful.”
“That’s not how this works,” he pushes.
“It is now,” I repeat.
The tension shifts again, sharper this time, closer to breaking.
“She’s not one of us,” someone says.
I straighten slightly, letting my attention settle across the room, not on one voice, but all of them.
