Page 181 of Red Scale Daddy
“Then we will not be where the swarm expects,” Throgg replies.
“You should also prepare for my father to sabotage his own trail,” I say.
Throgg looks back. “You sound proud.”
“I sound accurate.”
“Prepare countermeasures.”
“I will need engineering access.”
“You will have supervised access.”
“I will need my ship’s sensor library again.”
“You had access.”
“I need more.”
“No.”
“Then your countermeasures will be ornamental.”
Throgg’s jaw tightens. There it is, the edge beneath his composure. He does not like needing me. He likes that he recognizes utility in me, but he does not enjoy the dependence forming around it.
Good.
Dependence can be widened.
“I can work from engineering,” I say, offering the concession before he rejects the demand. “Give me live pursuit data, partial sensor feeds from my ship, and authorization to upload counter-drift predictions into your navigation buffer.”
“That grants you influence over navigation.”
“Limited influence.”
“Influence.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then fly blind near a man who has survived you for nine years.”
The room turns very still.
Throgg steps close enough that every guard subtly adjusts around us. “You do not speak to me as others do.”
“That seems statistically likely.”
“Fear teaches most prisoners restraint.”
“Fear teaches engineers prioritization.”
“And what is your priority now?”
There are several answers.
My father.
