DAY 93 — 10:14 (LOCAL)
They didn't take Shrike's Step anywhere that asked questions.
Not yet.
A stolen JumpShip was power. It was freedom. It was also a beacon that said come kill me and take it back. Lyra kept them on the edge of mapped traffic, hopping into quiet systems where the only thing watching was cold rock and old sensor buoys.
Three days of that—three days of patching, inventorying, learning what they'd actually stolen—made one truth impossible to ignore:
They were too big now to stay small.
The Union couldn't keep doing everything. The Leopard couldn't keep flying every sortie on prayers. And Shrike's Step—a real Invader—was a hungry beast that needed hands, bodies, and brains to keep it alive.
The crew had the bones. They didn't have the muscle.
Lyra brought it up in the simplest place: the mech bay, under the belly of the Dire Wolf, where Dack always listened better.
She had a slate in her hand, hair pulled back, eyes tired but sharp. Cameras tracked every angle in the bay with quiet little red dots; it made people behave. It made Helena behave, too—locked in her room down the corridor, watched, contained.
Jinx was on a crate near the Highlander, boots dangling, black-and-red outfit half-zipped in a way that looked intentional. Taila leaned against the Marauder's shin plating, arms folded, trying to look like she wasn't anxious. Morrigan sat near the Orion, pretending she didn't care what anyone decided. Quill stood by the Awesome, still as a statue with a heartbeat. Vasha stayed near the chained Timber Wolf, eyes occasionally flicking to it like she was measuring what it meant.
Rook and Rafe were at the far bench, elbows deep in wiring harnesses and salvaged diagnostic gear, hands moving like they'd been born with a wrench in each palm.
Lyra didn't waste time.
"We need crew," she said.
Dack's reply was blunt. "How many."
Lyra tapped her slate. "Minimum to keep Shrike's Step operational without gambling on luck? We need at least—engineering support, comms support, cargo hands, a med tech, and watchstanders who can rotate without collapsing."
Jinx swung her legs and grinned. "And someone whose job is to tell Dack he's handsome."
Dack didn't look at her. "No."
Jinx pouted dramatically. Taila fought a smile and lost.
Lyra kept going. "I can train them. But they have to be teachable. Young is fine. Preferable, honestly. They learn faster if they don't arrive thinking they already know better."
Morrigan muttered, "Young also means annoying."
"Maybe," Lyra said. "But young also means not bought."
Quill's eyes narrowed slightly at that. She understood the point.
Lyra looked directly at Dack. "There's an all-girls academy the twins came from. The kind that produces sheltered, high-skilled technicians who don't know what the real world looks like until it bites them."
Rook and Rafe both paused at once.
Rafe: "Don't—"
Rook: "—say—"
Rafe: "—that."
Rook: "Please."
Lyra's mouth twitched. "I'm not insulting it. I'm saying it's a pipeline."
Dack stared at the slate. "Name."
Lyra said it once, clean. "St. Nyx Academy."
Taila blinked. "That's where you—?"
Rook: "Yes—"
Rafe: "—and—"
Rook: "—no."
Rafe: "Mostly yes."
Jinx grinned. "St. Nyx. That sounds like a place that either teaches you algebra or how to worship the moon."
Vasha's tone was flat. "Both."
Jinx laughed. "I like her."
Lyra's eyes stayed on Dack. "I can go in as a recruiter. Not official, obviously. But I can sell the truth: we have a JumpShip, two DropShips, and a merc unit that's about to start taking contracts that pay real money."
Dack's expression didn't change. "And we're not dead."
Lyra nodded. "That too."
Then she added the piece she'd been waiting to say.
"I also want security."
Morrigan's eyes sharpened. "We don't do men."
Lyra didn't blink. "I wasn't suggesting men."
Jinx's grin flashed. "Good."
Lyra continued. "St. Nyx has a security track. Graduates who run facility watches, internal response drills, small-arms quals. They're still young, but they're disciplined. If we're going to carry a JumpShip, we need people who can seal hatches, control corridors, and not panic when the alarms start singing."
Quill's voice was quiet. "Boarding defense."
"Yes," Lyra said. "And basic control—so you don't have to pull MechWarriors off sleep cycles to deal with every problem."
Dack watched her for a long moment.
He wasn't smiling. He wasn't approving yet. He was weighing cost against survival.
Finally, he said, "How many."
Lyra exhaled once. "Three crew minimum. Two security. Five total."
Jinx raised a finger. "Six. Because I want a cute new girl to boss around."
"Five," Dack said.
Jinx sighed like she was suffering. "Tyranny."
Taila looked between them and said quietly, "Lyra can teach them. She taught us the ship."
Morrigan's mouth tightened. She didn't argue.
Quill nodded once. "Valid."
Vasha's eyes stayed cold, but she didn't object. That was her version of agreement.
Dack finally gave the answer that mattered.
"Do it," he said. "But we choose."
Lyra's shoulders eased just slightly. "Copy."
Then she asked the next question, carefully. "You want to come?"
Dack didn't hesitate. "Yes."
That surprised Taila. It surprised Jinx, too.
Dack added, blunt and honest, "I want to see who we bring into our ship."
Jinx smiled like she'd just been handed something precious. Taila looked down fast, cheeks warm.
Lyra nodded once. "Then we go."
---
St. Nyx Academy sat on a world with polite skies and expensive stone.
The campus wasn't a single building; it was a spread of clean towers and domes on a hillside above a small city, ringed by training yards and landing pads. Everything was trimmed. Everything was maintained. Everything looked like it had never known hunger.
Lyra's first words as they descended in the Leopard were quiet and practical.
"Do not mention Shrike's Step," she said.
Jinx, in the seat behind her, sighed. "Fine."
Taila sat opposite, helmet on her lap, watching the campus grow in the forward glass like she was staring at a life she'd never had. Morrigan came too—hood up, eyes sharp, acting like she didn't care and therefore cared the most. Quill stayed aboard the Union; Helena stayed locked; Vasha stayed near the Timber Wolf like a guard dog that didn't sleep.
Dack rode in silence, strapped in behind Lyra, hands folded, eyes on the pad.
When they landed, they didn't march in like conquerors.
They walked like a small merc unit that understood that cameras were everywhere and reputation was currency.
Lyra wore black with a red stripe—clean, fitted, professional. Not sexy. Not sloppy. Her hair was tied back, face calm.
Jinx wore black-and-red too, but hers was… Jinx: a tight top under a short jacket, shorts that made her legs impossible to ignore, boots that said she could still run if she had to. Dirty blonde hair loose, blue eyes bright, smile like trouble.
Taila's outfit was tight and controlled, black halter top under a light jacket, red-striped leggings, boots scuffed from real work. She looked like someone who'd learned how to stand in her skin and wasn't done learning yet.
Morrigan wore black-and-red like armor: miniskirt, stockings, combat boots, jacket with the Dire Wolf sigil stitched on the shoulder. Gothic edge even when she tried to hide it. Arms crossed. Glaring at the world because the world had earned it.
Dack looked the simplest: black pilot suit, fitted, lean build, average face, eyes that didn't give anything away. No swagger. No show. Just presence.
They were escorted through a clean hallway to a recruitment office that smelled like polished wood and expensive filters.
A woman in her late twenties met them—academy staff, crisp uniform, hair in a tight bun, eyes that measured threats without flinching.
"Lyra Sato," the woman said. "We received your message."
Lyra nodded. "Thank you for seeing us."
The staff woman's gaze slid to Dack. "And you are?"
"Dack Jarn," he said.
Her eyes sharpened slightly. The name landed. It wasn't fame yet, but it was something people had started whispering.
"And you're recruiting," she said carefully.
"Yes," Lyra replied. "Crew. Security."
The staff woman blinked. "Security from here?"
Morrigan muttered, "That's what she said."
Lyra's tone stayed polite. "Yes. We're operating a DropShip and a Leopard. We need watch rotation. We need disciplined personnel."
She didn't mention the JumpShip. Not here. Not to anyone wearing a badge.
The staff woman studied them for a long moment. "You understand our graduates are… sheltered."
Jinx grinned. "Perfect. We can corrupt them."
Lyra didn't look at Jinx. "We can train them."
Dack's voice was flat. "And pay."
That made the staff woman pause.
Money always made people pause.
She nodded once. "Very well. I can arrange interviews with recent graduates and near-graduates who haven't taken commission placements. But I won't send girls into a slaughterhouse."
Dack looked at her. "Then don't."
The staff woman's brows tightened. "Excuse me?"
Dack didn't change tone. "We won't lie. They choose with truth."
That earned him a different kind of look. Not warmth. Respect.
The staff woman nodded slowly. "Then I'll bring candidates who can handle truth."
---
They did the hiring the way Lyra liked: controlled, structured, no theatrics.
A row of chairs. A table. Water. A security camera in the corner that everyone pretended not to see. The staff woman sat in the back to observe. Lyra did most of the talking. Dack watched.
The first candidate entered like she expected to be yelled at.
Young. Maybe nineteen. Dark skin, short curls, eyes too big for her face. Her uniform was immaculate, hands clasped tight. She gave a stiff bow.
"Cadet Mina Vale," she said quickly. "Logistics track. Basic watch rotation certified. Cargo handling. Inventory systems."
Lyra's voice was calm. "Why do you want to leave."
Mina swallowed. "Because I don't want to count other people's lives from behind a desk."
Jinx leaned forward, smiling. "Bold."
Mina glanced at her and went red. "I— I'm sorry."
Jinx laughed. "Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's adorable."
Lyra didn't indulge it. "You understand merc work means ugly days."
Mina nodded too fast. "Yes, ma'am."
Dack spoke for the first time. "Say no if you mean no."
Mina froze.
Then she took a breath. "Yes," she said slower. "I understand. I still want it."
Dack nodded once. That was enough for him to keep listening.
The second candidate was calmer—taller, pale, hair in a neat braid, voice soft but steady.
"Cadet Elowen Pryde," she said. "Comms and sensor support. Basic encryption. Radio discipline. Aerospace tracking fundamentals."
Lyra's eyes sharpened. "You're near-graduation."
"Yes," Elowen said. "I declined my placement."
"Why," Lyra asked.
Elowen hesitated. Then, honest. "They wanted to place me in a noble household's private security office. I don't want to spend my life pretending rich men are brave."
Morrigan made a pleased noise. Taila hid a smile.
Dack's voice was flat. "Good answer."
Elowen blinked—surprised he spoke. Then she nodded, like she'd just passed something she didn't understand.
The third candidate walked in with a different kind of posture—security track. Shoulders squared, eyes forward, expression controlled.
"Cadet Sera Kincaid," she said. "Security response. Corridor control. Small arms quals. Breach and seal drills."
Lyra studied her like she was selecting a tool. "You've never been outside academy grounds."
Sera didn't blink. "No, ma'am."
Lyra nodded. "Then why do you think you can do this."
Sera took a breath. "Because drills are drills. But discipline is discipline anywhere."
Quill would have liked her.
Dack asked one question. "Can you shoot."
Sera's eyes flicked to him. "Yes."
Jinx leaned in, grin wicked. "Can you shoot and not faint when you see a dead body?"
Sera swallowed. "I… don't know."
That was the first honest thing she'd said.
Lyra's tone stayed calm. "That's acceptable."
Sera blinked. "It is?"
Lyra nodded. "It means you'll learn instead of pretending."
The staff woman in the back looked mildly alarmed by how pragmatic Lyra was.
Another security candidate followed—shorter, compact, eyes sharp, mouth too quick.
"Cadet Rina Solace," she said. "Security track. Watch rotation. I volunteer for hazard postings."
Jinx grinned. "Oh. You're trouble."
Rina smiled nervously. "I've been told that."
Lyra asked, "Why hazard."
Rina hesitated, then admitted, "Because… if I stay here, I'll never learn what I'm actually capable of."
Taila's expression softened. She recognized that feeling.
Lyra leaned back slightly. "You understand our ship doesn't have room for passengers."
Rina nodded. "Then don't make me one."
Lyra's eyes flicked to Dack.
Dack's face stayed neutral. He didn't give approval easy.
But he said, "We need people who mean it."
That was as close to yes as he gave.
---
When the interviews ended, Lyra walked Dack out into a quiet corridor with glass windows looking over the academy yards—cadets running drills in neat lines, clean uniforms, clean world.
Jinx and Taila stayed back, talking quietly to Mina and Elowen. Morrigan leaned against a wall with her arms crossed, watching the security candidates like she was deciding which ones would annoy her least.
Lyra stopped where the cameras were fewer.
She looked at Dack. "I want Mina and Elowen for crew. Sera and Rina for security. That's four."
Dack's eyes stayed on the training yard. "Why those two for security."
Lyra didn't hesitate. "Sera has discipline. Rina has hunger. Between them, they'll cover each other's weaknesses."
Dack nodded once. "And they'll listen to you."
Lyra's mouth tightened slightly—she didn't like being the "boss" of anything, but she accepted responsibility the way she accepted gravity. "Yes."
Then she asked the question she'd been holding back.
"I want your permission to hire two more," Lyra said. "Not security. Just general hands. If we bring these four aboard and nothing else, we'll still be thin."
Dack finally looked at her. "Who."
Lyra tapped her slate and showed him two names the staff woman had listed as "available" but hadn't brought in first round—girls who hadn't finished placement decisions yet.
"Tamsin Roe," Lyra said. "Engineering assistant track. Not a tech—an assistant. Teachable. Sharp hands."
Dack nodded once.
"And Juniper Kass," Lyra continued. "Med support. Not a surgeon. But she can keep someone alive long enough to reach real care. We need that."
Dack's gaze hardened slightly, remembering blood floating in corridors.
"Yeah," he said. "We need that."
Lyra exhaled—relief, but controlled.
Then she asked the last piece.
"I also need your approval for academy-issued security contracts," Lyra said carefully. "They won't send girls without paperwork. It helps if we can say we're formally hiring them as shipboard watch."
Dack's eyes narrowed. "Paper trail."
Lyra nodded. "Yes."
Dack thought for a moment.
Then he said, "Do it under Moonjaw. No mention of Shrike's Step. No mention of Helena. No mention of Jade Shadow."
Lyra nodded immediately. "Understood."
Dack added, blunt. "And if they want to 'inspect' our ship…"
Lyra's eyes went cold. "They don't."
That answer satisfied him.
He nodded once. "Hire them."
Lyra hesitated—then gave him a rare, small smile. Not bright. Just real. "Copy."
---
They didn't celebrate with champagne.
They celebrated with logistics.
By evening, the academy staff woman handed Lyra a sealed packet of credentials and transit waivers for five young women—fresh ink, fresh names, fresh lives about to get dirty.
When Lyra walked back into the waiting room, Jinx was leaning too close to Mina Vale, grinning like a devil offering candy.
"So," Jinx was saying, "do you blush like that all the time or only when I talk to you?"
Mina's face was on fire. "I— I don't—"
Taila cleared her throat sharply. "Jinx."
Jinx leaned back, innocence on her face. "What? I'm recruiting morale."
Morrigan muttered, "You're recruiting victims."
Lyra stepped in before it got worse. "We're done. You're coming with us."
The candidates stiffened—fear and excitement tangled together.
Rina Solace blurted, "We're… hired?"
Lyra nodded. "Provisional. You'll learn ship rules. You'll learn watch discipline. You'll learn what happens when alarms go off. If you can't handle it, you leave at the next safe port. No shame. No punishment."
Sera Kincaid swallowed. "And if we can handle it?"
Dack answered from behind Lyra, voice flat. "Then you stay."
Sera's eyes flicked to him—something like awe, quickly hidden. "Yes, sir."
Jinx grinned. "Ohhh, she called him sir. I'm gonna ruin you."
Taila pinched the bridge of her nose.
Lyra ignored Jinx. "Gear up. We lift in two hours."
Rook and Rafe would hate having strangers aboard. Dack could already feel that tension forming.
But it was necessary.
Moonjaw didn't survive by staying comfortable.
They survived by growing teeth.
As they walked out, Mina Vale glanced back once at the academy towers—clean stone, clean life—then squared her shoulders and followed Lyra like she'd already decided she wasn't going back.
Dack watched that.
He liked it.
And as they boarded the Leopard to return to the Union, Lyra fell into step beside him.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Dack's reply was simple. "We need them."
Lyra nodded. "We do."
Then she added, softer, "And they need somewhere to belong."
Dack didn't answer right away.
His gaze flicked to Jinx—still smiling, still bright, still carrying something she hadn't told him yet. To Taila—watchful, warm, steady. To Morrigan—pretending she didn't care while standing close anyway.
He spoke, low and blunt. "Moonjaw's a hard place to belong."
Lyra's voice stayed calm. "Then we make it worth it."
Dack nodded once.
They lifted off St. Nyx Academy with five new names in the bay roster and a little more weight on the ship's spine.
Not the kind of weight that broke you.
The kind that forced you to stand taller.
And somewhere out in the dark, Jade Shadow was still out there—still angry, still hunting.
Moonjaw didn't hide from that anymore.
They built for it.