Vasilia turned away. It wasn’t surprise, pain, nor cowardice that made her breath hitch. Apollo Silverbow could show her nothing that she’d not seen a thousand times over. But that’s the trouble with eyes, isn’t it? No way to tell what another sees. What hidden thing another might...notice. The god could hear her just fine, whether she spoke to his face or to the ceiling. 

“Yes, yes, the Admiral. Working overtime to chase after us with an unwieldy Armada full of disloyal backstabbers. And if she succeeds, she’ll never set foot on her ship again, except to give awful parades.” No one with a shuttle that gaudy could ever hope to organize a decent party. “And then there’s your former employer, Galnius. If I’d handed over the Princess, he’d be enjoying his early retirement in a private galaxy all to his own. Every last one of them works so hard to leave their posts as fast as possible. And me?” 

She traced a finger over the rough, cutting edge of her Captain’s medal.

“I am Captain now, and I will be Captain when our journey ends.” She said quietly. “So tell me again which of us is taking this more seriously.”