“Try it,” I say.
Two words.
That’s all.
His pupils dilate.
He looks past me at Mara again — then back at me.
We stand there in a silence so tight I can hear the faint electrical whine of his scanner straining in his grip.
Finally… he lowers his hand.
“Understood,” he says.
Steps back.
Then sideways.
Then turns and walks away without another word.
The corridor swallows him.
The second he’s gone, Mara sags against the wall, breath shuddering out of her.
“Holy—” She stops herself, then looks up at me. “Did you just… threaten an Alliance patrol officer?”
“Yes.”
“With your whole soul.”
“Yes.”
She stares at me, eyes bright and shaken and something dangerously close to awe.
“You realize,” she says softly, “that was… not neutral behavior.”
“I am no longer neutral.”
Something in her expression shifts.
Not fear.
Not relief.
Recognition.
Like she’s finally seeing the line I just crossed — and the fact that I didn’t hesitate.
We don’t have time to talk about it.
Alarms begin to murmur distantly — not full lockdown yet, but the prelude. The station clearing its throat before it screams.
“We need to move,” I say.
She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”
We run.
