“Multiple fractures,” Drel mutters. “Neural sync failing. You take primary?”
I nod. Of course I do. BecauseI’m the only one who can. I was trained for this. Designed for this.
I just wasn’t ready forhim.
Inside the trauma bay, lights blaze to full brightness. The doors hiss shut behind us. It’s just me, Drel, and a ghost from the worst and best year of my life.
He groans as I cut through the remnants of his uniform. I catch the glint of Vakutan insignia. Field Commander. Just like before. The skin beneath the plating is darkened, bruised. Burn scored. My fingers hesitate only once before I start checking neural ports.
His eyes open. One gold, one flickering cybernetic.
They land on me.
And stay.
He blinks. Once. Slow.
“Rynn,” he rasps.
It’s not a question.
I freeze.
Drel glances up. “You know him?”
“I—” My voice splinters. “We served in the same theater. Years ago.”
It’s half the truth. The other half has hair like a sunbeam and a laugh that cracks my heart open every time I hear it.
Vael’s eyes don’t leave mine. His mouth moves again, whispering something. I lean in to hear.
He says my name again.
Not as a command.
Like a prayer.
Like he’s beenwaiting.
I reel back, breath snagging in my throat. “Stabilize him. Set a dermal regen on his chest and link me into his neural pattern. I need to keep him grounded.”
Drel nods, mercifully silent.
I work fast. Data floods the monitor. Sync rates are rough, unstable. He’s burning through his implants faster than we can recalibrate. But he holds on. Every now and then, his eyes drift back to mine. Not confused. Not shocked. Just…knowing.
“Where—” he croaks, “—am I?”
“Medbay. Corven-7,” I say, keeping my voice cool. Controlled. “You’re safe.”
He grunts. “No one’s safe.”
Drel snorts softly. “Typical Vakutan.”
I almost laugh. But the tension in my chest is too tight. My hands tremble as I attach the final cortical leads. His vitals stabilize, but my pulse won’t. I canfeelit in my bones—this is the moment everything unravels. The secret I buried, the child I swore to protect, the life I’ve built on lies and silence.
I lean close, pretending to adjust the array. “You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, barely audible.
Vael’s lip twitches. “And yet… here I am.”
