We stayed like that for another few minutes, hands linked, breathing in the quiet of the empty training bay. I could feel him through the Tether now, his presence a steady anchor.
The weight was still there. The memories. The cost.
But for the first time in three days, I felt like I could carry it.
Chapter 8
It had been two weeks since the raid, and Ginny was singing to Hope when I entered the medical bay.
I stopped a few feet away and watched them, not wanting to interrupt. Mother cradling daughter, rocking gently in the dimmed lights of the family area. Two weeks ago, I had held that baby in my arms while I dragged her mother out of a prison cell. Now Ginny was smiling. Tired, yes. Still too thin. But smiling.
I waited for the guilt to hit. The familiar weight that should have settled on my chest. The ones who didn't make it, the ones I couldn't save.
It didn't come.
Not because I had forgotten them. I hadn't. I never would. But somewhere in the past two weeks, something had shifted. I could hold the loss and the victory at the same time now. Both were true. Both mattered. And only one of them could guide what came next.
I sent feelings of gratitude through the Tether and felt the echo of it return. Warm, steady, certain.
I smiled.
A lot had happened since our successful raid. Yes, I was calling it successful now. We gave everyone a choice: leave the ship or stay on as crew. Many had asked to be dropped at independent stations. We made sure they were safe and had people to look after them before leaving. We also made sure word got out about what the Starbreaker had done.
Not all of them had disembarked yet. They were still weighing their choice. We made sure they understood the benefits and risks of both options. The ones who stayed either had nowhere else to go or only one goal left in life.
To make the corporations pay for what had been done to them.
Ginny and Hope had family waiting, but the medics wanted to be sure the baby had a clean bill of health before releasing them from care.I looked at the women resting, healing, beginning to imagine futures they had been told didn't exist, and let the warmth fill my chest.
We had done something good. More than that, we had proven that the corporations could be challenged. That things didn't have to stay the way they were.
After a few more stops to check on the remaining survivors, I headed for the bridge. The corridors of the Starbreaker felt different. Lighter. Crewmembers smiled as they passed me, some with a skip in their step. They looked like people who believed in what they were doing again.
It felt nice.
When I stepped onto the bridge, all four Knights were already at their stations. There was no announcement of my arrival. No ceremony. No attention drawn. I felt fully accepted, like I had always belonged here.
Lyrin glanced up from his console as I entered. Through the Tether, I felt him register something, a subtle shift in how I was carrying myself. He didn't comment, but he sent a wave of quiet approval.
Torvyn turned, smiled, and motioned me over.
"Good. You're here," he said. "We can begin the intelligence summary."
"Yes, Captain," Vaelix said, his fingers dancing across his console to pull data onto the main display. "There have been reports of network instability across large sectors of corporate space. The patterns are unusual."
"What's causing them?" I asked.
"The disruptions appear to be originating from colony Kappa-7," Vaelix replied.
"What kind of colony is that?" Kaedren asked.
"There are multiple encampment types," Vaelix said. "Intimate service workers, technical maintenance operations, and sanitary services."
"Sex slaves, tech support, and janitors," Kaedren translated flatly. His jaw tightened. "All the people corporations pretend don't exist until they need them to fix something."
Through the Tether, I caught something sharp beneath his usual composure. Old anger, barely contained.
"Kaedren?" I asked quietly.
