“—Council emergency session ongoing. Admiral Valen remains confined to command quarters pending investigation. Fleet mobilization stalled but not rescinded?—”
The phrase stalls but not rescinded settles into the room like a cold draft.
Kael shifts slightly, wincing as the movement pulls at the wound.
“They’re not retreating,” he says.
“No,” I reply. “They’re recalibrating.”
Another feed overlays it—League commentary now, voices I recognize.
“—Analyst Elara Vance has not yet issued a formal statement. League sources suggest immunity may be extended in exchange for clarification of Reaper alignment?—”
I freeze for half a second before turning the volume down.
Kael notices.
“Say it,” he says quietly.
I meet his eyes.
“The League will offer immunity,” I say evenly. “Public reinstatement. Clean record. They’ll want me to denounce you as rogue influence.”
His expression does not change, but something deep behind his eyes shifts.
“And will you?” he asks.
The question is not accusatory.
It is factual.
I step closer to the cot, bracing one hand against the edge so that I am within reach of him.
“They will frame it as pragmatic,” I continue. “They will say I can do more good inside the system than outside it. They will say you are too volatile to anchor myself to.”
Kael’s voice is softer now. “And what will you say?”
“I will tell them no,” I reply.
The elder healer glances up sharply at that.
“You are certain?” Kael asks.
“I do not barter people,” I say quietly. “Not you.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and deliberate.
“Leadership challenge?” I ask after a moment.
“Scheduled,” he says. “Hours.”
“With this?” I gesture toward his side.
“With this,” he confirms.
I inhale slowly, studying him. He is pale beneath the flush of sedative, but his gaze is steady.
“You are infuriating,” I tell him.
