She laughs softly, but there’s no humor in it. “The Alliance doesn’t care how sustainable you are.”
“No,” I agree. “But neutral systems do.”
“And you think that shields you.”
“I think it complicates extermination narratives.”
She considers that.
Behind us, the cruiser’s comm array emits a low alert tone.
Varek taps the display. “Public broadcast feed.”
“Display,” I order.
The forward viewport splits, overlaying Alliance news channels across the starfield. Fleet formations flash across the screen—rows of cruisers igniting engines in synchronized arcs. Mobilization percentages climb in real time.
“…Alliance defensive posture now at full readiness,” a commentator says. “Sanctions against Kael clan assets underway…”
Elara stiffens.
“They’re naming your clan,” she says.
“Yes.”
“…multiple patrol groups dispatched toward outer rim coordinates…”
“They’re moving fast,” she murmurs.
“They were ready,” I reply.
She turns toward me sharply. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it is true.”
Fleet movement vectors scroll across the display. Not just defensive formation—strategic encirclement.
“They’re not just containing,” she says slowly. “They’re positioning.”
“Yes.”
“For what.”
“Escalation.”
The word sits between us, heavy.
Elara rubs her forehead briefly. “Without proof, they control the narrative.”
“Yes.”
“And once narrative hardens?—”
“It becomes justification.”
She exhales sharply.
“I thought this would stay contained to tribunal,” she says.
