"What else could it be about?" Kaedren asked.
"It's about control," I said. "It's about making everyone complicit in their own oppression. He's turned the galaxy into his enforcement arm."
Torvyn shook his head. "Maybe. But now we're the hunted. We need to make ourselves less of a target. More course changes, fewer stops, tighter jumps, reduced communications."
Kaedren shifted his weight, jaw tight. "Torvyn's right. We can't help anyone if we're dead." He didn't sound convinced.
"Our top priority is survival," Torvyn continued. "If we're captured and publicly executed, that doesn't just end us. It ends everyone whobelieved in the Knights and our mission. Voss doesn't just want us dead. He wants us broken. Visibly."
"This broadcast is galaxy-wide," Vaelix said, fingers flying across the console. "Even ports that were friendly to us received it. I don't think there is anywhere we can go that is truly safe." He paused. "I also detected embedded tracking protocols. Anyone who downloads the bounty information is flagged."
"Can you reverse-engineer it?" Lyrin asked. "Access his database? That would tell us how many enemies we're actually facing."
"Possibly," Vaelix said. "But it will take time."
Torvyn straightened. "This isn't the first time targets have been painted on our backs. We know how to operate. We follow protocol and go silent."
"Why?" I asked. "Shouldn't our priority still be helping people? If we pull back now, we prove his point. All it takes is a bounty to make us disappear. Every colony we don't help becomes evidence that his story is true."
Lyrin looked up. "She's not wrong. The models support her conclusion. If we go silent, belief in Voss's narrative increases. If we remain visible, we retain control of the story."
Vaelix frowned at his console. "There's a middle path. We could operate through proxies. Coordinate with allied ships, feed them intel, let them execute while we stay mobile. Less risk, maintained impact."
"And let someone else take the bullets meant for us?" I said before I could stop myself.
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Vaelix's suggestion wasn't wrong. It was practical. It might even save more lives in the long run. But it felt like hiding behind a shield made of other people's bodies.
"The logical solution is to do both," Vaelix said carefully, "operate more carefully while maintaining mission visibility. The question is whether that's feasible at this scale."
"If we don't prioritize safety, the mission ends regardless," Torvyn said, his voice hardening. "We need a plan we can execute."
"We already have a plan," I said. "We save people who need saving. We put our lives on the line to do it. Nothing has changed."
Kaedren flinched. The Tether carried my anger to all of them. I closed my eyes.
Then Torvyn's fury hit me like a wave. Hot. Controlled. Deliberate. He could use the Tether, too, and he was reminding me of that.
I wasn't selling this the way I needed to.
"I'm part of the team, right?" I asked.
"Of course," he said.
"So why don't I get a say?"
"Because I'm the captain," he replied. "I'm responsible for this crew and this ship."
"Here I was thinking we were equals," I said quietly. "I guess we're only equal when it's convenient."
Torvyn's face flushed purple, his eyes glowing yellow. The other three suddenly found the floor, the consoles, anywhere but us.
"The decision has been made," Torvyn said, turning back toward his chair.
My hands trembled at my sides. He was making a unilateral decision about my safety without my input. I'd had enough of that for one lifetime.
Something cold and clear settled in my chest.
He was wrong. Hiding wouldn't save us; it would let Voss write our story. And I'd spent too long letting powerful men decide who I was allowed to be.
