Kael steps closer to the table. “If you release this analysis,” he says carefully, “you do not merely dispute evidence. You destabilize Alliance command.”
“I know,” I reply.
“You risk being labeled traitor.”
“I am aware,” I say, meeting his gaze. “But if I do nothing, he controls the narrative uncontested.”
Kael studies me for several seconds before speaking again. “Will you stop if the cost rises?” he asks.
“No,” I answer without hesitation.
He nods once, slow and deliberate. “Then we proceed.”
I finalize the dossier, embedding speech analysis alongside the forensic harmonic variance and foundry overlap data. The packet grows heavy with implication.
“We cannot transmit from the cruiser,” I say, glancing at the navigation feed. “He knows you’re in this sector.”
“Yes,” Kael agrees.
I pull up a star map and zoom toward a drifting asteroid cluster near a dying gravity well. The cluster rotates slowly, irregular fragments casting long shadows against one another.
“There,” I say, tapping the coordinate. “High particulate interference. Enough scatter to mask a short encrypted burst.”
Kael studies the terrain model. “It is exposed,” he says.
“So are we,” I reply. “At least there the signal loss looks environmental.”
He considers this, then nods. “Prepare the shuttle.”
The shuttle bay smells sharply of oil and recycled air. I secure myself opposite Kael as the small craft detaches from the cruiser with a low mechanical shudder. The cruiser’s deep vibrationfades behind us, replaced by the sharper, thinner whine of shuttle thrusters.
“You trust your encryption?” Kael asks as he guides us toward the asteroid cluster.
“I trust the math,” I answer.
“You trust your contacts?” he presses.
“I trust their self-interest,” I say.
Kael’s mouth shifts faintly at that. “That is a different thing.”
“It’s close enough,” I reply.
The asteroid cluster fills the viewport, jagged silhouettes rotating slowly. Debris drifts between them, glinting faintly.
Kael settles the shuttle into the shadow of a mid-sized rock, cutting primary systems to reduce our signature. The interior lights dim further, leaving only the console glow.
“Three minutes,” Kael says, his eyes flicking between sensor feeds. “No more.”
I unclip and move to the transmission console, my hands steady despite the tightness in my chest. The data packet waits, encrypted and layered.
“You understand,” Kael says quietly, without looking away from the sensors, “that once this leaves your control, it cannot be recalled.”
“I understand,” I reply.
“And if it fails?”
“Then we escalate,” I say, initiating the transmission.
