He doesn’t hesitate. Moves like he’s shaking off centuries. Drops into the gunnery chair and yanks the shield array control off safety.
“Ready.”
“Brace.”
I pull us into a spin. Not graceful. Not even close. The kind of maneuver that makes bones want to exit your skin. I catch the blockade grid on the outer edge of our nav arc—just two drone posts, outdated, manned by low-tier command remnants.
Not for long.
Vael fires.
The first pulse lands clean, ripping through the left beacon. The second hits the power bank on the right. Static fireworks dance across our windshield.
The ship jerks, stumbles, catches its balance again—like a drunk finding rhythm.
We break the corridor.
We make it.
The silence that follows is like the universe sucking in its breath.
I don’t realize I’ve stood up until I’m halfway to the medbay.
My legs move without permission, autopilot born from panic. I’m not thinking—Ican’tthink. Everything that’s happened since I hit the upload trigger just spirals in my skull, looping, no order, no logic.
My boots scrape the floor, the worn rubber treads catching on the uneven plasteel plating as I reach the medbay door.
It’s open.
I step inside.
And everything hits me at once.
Not pain. Not even adrenaline.
Release.
The kind that drags out from your core and leaves you hollow. The kind that doesn't look like victory but like grief in a prettier mask.
The table in the center of the medbay is bolted, old, probably scavenged off a mining freighter. I grab it like I’m falling. My hands slap against its surface, palms wide, fingers splayed. My knees give out just enough for my arms to lock. I lean over it like it’s holding me up.
The hum of the ship surrounds me—soft, steady, almost gentle now. But my heartbeat is still thundering in my ears. My breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps.
I don’t even know what I’m feeling.
It’s not fear. That’s gone. Burned up in the fire behind us.
It’s not relief, either. Too sharp for that. Too tangled.
It’s… everything.
And I can't hold it anymore.
I want to scream, but I don’t. My throat won’t cooperate. My body just starts shaking, a tremble that begins in my shoulders and spreads out, until even my vision blurs.
I try to blink it back. Doesn’t work.
I let my head drop to the cool metal table. The shock of it clears nothing.
