The silence that follows is holy.
I laugh. It comes out ragged, feral, full of blood.
The sensors are fried, nav systems gone, and comms barely a whisper, but I’m breathing.
And I heard her.
That’s enough.
I reconfigure power—cutting everything non-essential, funneling energy into the med-core and navigation. I need to heal. I need to move.
Most of all, I need to find her.
I press two fingers to my temple, closing my eyes again. That whisper—it wasn’t just in my head. It came from her. Across the stars. Across the bond. Across time.
Somehow, she’s still alive.
Still reaching.
And that means I will burn planets to find her.
“Hold on, Ayla,” I breathe, voice low and rough. “I’m coming back from the dead for you.”
The ship drifts silent for now, stabilizing. There’s no fleet to call. No backup to signal. I’m alone.
But I’ve got her voice in my blood.
And that’s all I need.
I gun the engines for all they’re worth. I have to wager everything on this move, and I only have one shot.
But by the bones of my ancestors, I WILL make it! Not even the fundamental forces of the universe will stop me from reclaiming what is mine.
The sling maneuver shatters through the storm like a war cry.
I break through the last turbulent layers of the gas giant, one wing ablaze and trailing smoke. The sky behind me is fire. The void ahead—open.
The ship screams in protest, but it holds.
Just barely.
I glance down. One wing—gone, torn clean off in the burst. The rest of the structure is scorched, scarred, and damn near fused into the flight chassis. Shields? Don’t make me laugh. Gone before I even started the run.
But I’m through.
I’m alive.
And she called to me.
“Status,” I snarl through my teeth.
The AI’s voice is flickering, sluggish. “Core… online. Navigation… erratic. Atmospheric maneuvering… compromised. Weapon systems… offline.”
Figures.
I lean back, blood crusted at my temple, the taste of iron in my mouth. My breathing is rough, heavy, like dragging steel through sand.
But none of it matters.
