I don’t blink.
He leans forward, eyes like polished glass. “Tell me something, Dr. Sorala. You’ve been stationed here a long time. Corven-7’s not exactly glamorous. Why stay?”
“I like quiet,” I lie.
“Quiet?” He chuckles, low and dry. “With a war hero on your slab and a half-dozen Alliance scouts poking around? Funny idea of peace.”
I shift. “What’s your point, Commander?”
He finally leans back, hands folding. “Just making conversation.”
Bullshit.
He knows.
Or hesuspects.
And that’s worse.
“Can I go now?” I ask, voice neutral.
He gestures toward the door with a smile. “Of course, Doctor. Just remember—any secrets buried long enough tend to sprout.”
I stand. My legs don’t shake. Not until I’m outside the door.
Borrowed time.
I’m on borrowed time.
And the clock just started ticking louder.
CHAPTER 10
VAEL
Istand in the debriefing chamber, fists clenched tight enough to crack bone.
The words on the screen blur. Not because of injury. Because my pulse is pounding in my skull like a war drum.
CLEARANCE GRANTED: Limited Exterior Simulation Testing
Designation: DRAYKORR, VAEL. Category: Combat-Tier Rehabilitation, Phase 3.
I should feel pride.
I don’t.
I feelwatched.
Tarek had his claws in this. I know it. His voice is all over the decision logs, even if the words are clean. He wants me in the field. He wants mereactive. He wants to know what happens when I’m cornered again.
They think they’re studying me. Controlling the test.
Idiots.
You don’t control a storm. You ride it. Or it drowns you.
The shuttle humsas it cuts across the scrub-plain perimeter of Corven-7, heading for the sim-range on the outer shelf. Fake cliffs. Real heat. The kind of terrain that grinds down the unfit and tempers the rest into steel.
