No matter what it costs.
CHAPTER 4
VAEL
There’s a rhythm to recovery — one I hate.
It’s the endless loop of machines humming, synapses twitching, muscles relearning commands they once barked without thought. My body’s an echo now, an unfinished translation of the warrior I used to be.
Every movement feels like betrayal.
I flex the synthetic fingers of my left hand. They respond half a second late. Just enough to make me want to rip the damn thing off and crush it under my boot.
If I had boots.
If I had legs that still felt like mine.
The door hisses open before I can sink too deep into the dark.
The scent hits first. Clean soap. Polished metal. Artificial calm.
Military.
Alliance-grade.
“Commander Draykorr,” a voice drawls — smooth, practiced, rehearsed for courtrooms and interrogations. “You look… better.”
I don’t look up. “Better than dead. Not by much.”
Commander Tarek steps into the room like he owns it. Which he probably does, on some classified ledger buried six systems deep.
He’s dressed in the newer black-on-silver uniform the higher-ups love — pristine, pressed, spotless. No battlefield dust here.
His insignia glints like a promise and a threat.
I finally lift my gaze. “Come to check the quality of your salvage?”
A tight smile. “Just following up on an asset the Alliance invested considerable credits in.”
I lean back against the propped-up gurney, every synthetic joint in my spine reminding me it hates this position. “You always were poetic, Tarek.”
His eyes flick to the chart at the foot of my bed. Then to the arm. The leg. The neural ports.
And then — to me.
“The recovery is going faster than expected,” he says.
I shrug. “Pain’s a hell of a motivator.”
He chuckles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve still got your edge.”
I narrow mine. “You didn’t come here for pleasantries. Say your piece.”
That gets him. The mask slips — barely — and he sighs.
“There’s been a breach,” he says. “Minor, but concerning. Certain encrypted files were accessed. Top-level research data. Early-generation cybernetics. Pre-armistice prototypes.”
I blink once. “Why come to me?”
