“Board!” Kael orders.
We leap across the narrowing gap as the docking platform destabilizes, boots striking the assault shuttle’s deck in tandem.
“Go!” one of the pilots shouts.
The shuttle tears free from the station as internal explosions cascade outward, Alliance ships scrambling in chaotic formations around us.
Through the viewport, I watch the broadcast node flicker as emergency power reroutes under Council control.
Across open channels, the galaxy fractures.
Valen’s narrative collapses in real time.
And for the first time since the summit detonated, the truth burns brighter than any weapon he engineered.
Kael stands beside me in the shuttle’s cramped interior, blood along his sleeve, breath steady but hard-earned.
“You were not caged,” he says quietly.
“No,” I reply, meeting his gaze.
Behind us, the station spirals into systemic failure as Alliance command fractures under the weight of its own exposure.
Ahead of us, fleets maneuver.
War is no longer theoretical.
It is real.
CHAPTER 24
KAEL
The shuttle tears away from the collapsing broadcast node with engines screaming hot enough to rattle bone.
Behind us, Alliance command space fractures into blinding arcs of defensive fire and emergency evacuation traffic. Ships scramble in confused formations as Council override orders collide with Valen’s standing directives. The assault was never meant to be surgical; it was meant to be disruptive. It succeeded too well.
“Multiple pursuit vectors forming,” the shuttle pilot calls from the front of the craft. His voice remains controlled, but the edge in it is unmistakable. “Interceptor wings moving to flank.”
I brace one hand against the bulkhead as we clear the station’s debris field. The interior smells of burned insulation and blood—mine, some of it, and that of the warriors who forced corridors open long enough for extraction. The deck plating vibrates beneath my boots as we push into open space.
“Signal the cruiser,” I say. “Full withdrawal pattern.”
Rethan’s voice cuts through comm a half-second later. “Already in motion. Alliance fleet consolidating behind you.”
Through the viewport, I see them—sleek Alliance destroyers sliding into coordinated geometry, their hulls reflecting the pale gas giant below. They are not fractured now. They are furious.
“Deploy screen ships,” I order.
Across our tactical display, Reaper craft surge into defensive arcs around the cruiser, forming a living barrier between us and the tightening Alliance pursuit. They move without hesitation.
The first volley hits before we clear the debris field.
Alliance interceptors streak forward, pulse cannons flaring in disciplined bursts that tear through the rear shield of one of our screening vessels. The ship ruptures in a violent bloom of light.
My jaw tightens.
“Maintain formation,” I say evenly.
