“And you have delusions of benevolence,” I reply.
He stops at the door.
“Consider your position carefully,” he says without turning back. “History favors those who manage it.”
The door slides closed behind him.
I sit very still for several seconds.
Twenty-four hours.
Broadcast tribunal.
Partial packet leaked.
He intercepted the primary node—but not all.
Good.
I exhale slowly and look around the room.
No visible cameras does not mean no cameras. The walls are smooth composite. The table likely embedded with biometric sensors.
The cuffs hum faintly against my wrists.
“Alright,” I murmur to myself.
If he wants a broadcast, he’ll get one.
Just not the one he expects.
The door opens again, and the Vakutan officers return to escort me back to holding.
The detention cell smells faintly of antiseptic and something older beneath it—fear, recycled and invisible. The slab is still cold.
I sit.
Twenty-four hours is not much time.
But it is time.
I begin cataloging what I know.
Valen intercepted the primary relay node.
That means he anticipated the debris scatter.
Which means he has predictive modeling of my behavior.
Which means he believes he understands me.
That is his mistake.
I lie back on the slab and stare at the ceiling.
If the tribunal is public, it will be routed through the Holonet.
If it is routed through the Holonet, it must pass through Alliance filters.
