“They profit from instability.”
“And you don’t?”
“I profit from endurance.”
She tilts her head slightly.
“You really believe you can change them.”
“I believe extinction changes them faster.”
She doesn’t argue with that.
Outside the viewport, a distant star flares faintly as we pass through a minor radiation band. The cruiser’s shields adjust automatically, the hum deepening for a moment before stabilizing.
“War is inevitable without proof,” she says quietly, almost to herself.
“Yes.”
“And you’re committing to finding it.”
“Yes.”
She turns to face me fully now, eyes steady despite everything.
“Then we find it,” she says.
Not we should.
Not you should.
We.
The bond between us tightens—not explosive this time, but steady, like the locking of something deliberate.
Varek watches the exchange but says nothing.
I input the final course adjustment toward my clan’s outer system, watching as the projected arrival time updates.
“We return home,” I say quietly.
“And then?” she asks.
“And then,” I reply, eyes fixed on the expanding starfield ahead, “we tear the lie apart.”
Outside, Alliance fleets burn bright across public channels, their engines igniting the edges of known space.
Inside, the cruiser hums forward into darkness.
The war clock continues to count.
CHAPTER 9
ELARA
The cruiser feels smaller when you’re looking for truth.
The command deck is dim except for the blue glow of the navigation array and the colder white light spilling from the forensic projection in front of me. The engine hum runs low and constant beneath my boots, a vibration that never quite fades, threading through muscle and bone until it feels like part of my pulse. Outside the viewport, deep space unfolds in bruised purples and black, distant stars sharp enough to look like they might cut skin if you touched them.
