I open three redundant channels: Kaijen archive, civilian cloud mirror, dead-drop fragment.
His eyes flick to the indicators. “Recording me.”
“Always,” I say.
Morazin chuckles. “You think redundancy makes you safe.”
“It makes meloud,” I correct. “And loud gets people nervous.”
Morazin’s gaze narrows. “What do you want?”
I let the silence stretch, then I say it clearly.
“High Lantern’s identity.”
Morazin’s smile fades into something more calculating.
He leans back against the restraints as far as he can. “No.”
Lonari steps forward, and I feel the heat of him at my shoulder now. “Jordan asked politely,” he says. “I don’t.”
Morazin’s eyes flick up to Lonari, then back to me. “If I give you that, I die.”
“If you don’t,” I say, voice hard, “you die anyway. The only difference is whether your death matters.”
Morazin’s nostrils flare. For a second he looks genuinely irritated—like he hates that I’m not pleading.
Then he says, slow, deliberate, like he’s choosing each word with tweezers:
“High Lantern is Council-tier.”
The phrase hits me like a cold wave.
Council-tier.
Not an officer. Not a contractor. Not a mid-level bureaucrat.
Council-tier means political command. The kind of person who can sign access keys that slip through Alliance infrastructure without alarms. The kind of person who can bury a scandal under national security stamps.
My throat tightens. “Council-tier… where?”
Morazin’s smile returns, faint. “You want specifics, you trade.”
Lonari’s growl is low. “We don’t trade with you.”
Morazin’s gaze flicks to him. “Then you don’t get specifics.”
I hold up a hand slightly, stopping Lonari before he moves. My brain is racing, gears grinding so hard it almost hurts.
“Okay,” I say, forcing calm. “Let’s talk trades.”
Morazin’s eyes brighten. “Finally.”
I keep my voice icy. “You give me High Lantern’s biometric imprint. Not a name. Not a story. A biometric fragment. Enough to identify them in a secure database.”
Morazin laughs softly. “You think I have that?”
“You had access keys,” I say. “You didn’t forge them yourself. Someone authorized you. That authorization leaves a trace. Everything leaves a trace.”
