Page 82 of Claimed By the Wraiths

“I will.”

“You never do.”

“One time I did.”

“That was Jessa.”

“It was in the spirit of me doing it.”

Serak looked around the table.

Not six people now.

Nine.

“The question is whether the Raptor stays independent.”

Deyric finally looked up. “I thought I answered that.”

“You answered whether you wanted a fleet engineering bay.”

“The answers are strongly correlated.”

Maris snorted.

Ressh’s arm settled around Alix’s shoulders. Thoryn’s hand was still flat on the table. Solren had already stopped looking at the Consortium message and gone back to watching Zevik’s wrapper like it was a medical emergency.

Every answer was already in the room.

Serak looked at me.

I’d been sitting to his left, where I always sat. Watching them.

The crew I’d fed and managed and mediated through supply shortages and broken systems and the end of a conspiracy.

For years I’d been the person who kept them in place.

They didn’t need me to keep them in place.

They were choosing it.

“Jessa,” Serak said.

“I’m thinking.”

“Take your time.”

“I’m thinking about what I’d tell my father.” I looked at the Consortium seal. “He spent thirty years in diplomatic service. He believed in the institution.”

The room stayed quiet.

“He’d probably tell me there are ways to do more good from inside it.”

“And?” Serak asked.

“He’s not here.”

I looked around the table.