The docking logs spill open.
And they are rewriting themselves in real time.
I watch as an entry labeled PENDING REVIEW dissolves and reforms beneath my eyes into FULL AUTHORIZATION, the registry code updating with seamless precision.
Alliance Cruiser — Vakutan Registry — Clearance Approved.
My mouth goes dry.
Yatori does not receive Alliance military vessels without layered coordination between the IHC and Alliance command. The political implications alone would require advance notice measured in days, not seconds.
Another micro-adjustment flickers through the file.
My compad vibrates with an external sensor ping.
I pull up the orbital feed.
The cruiser hangs in low orbit, massive and deliberate, its hull dark against the starfield, Alliance insignia emblazoned along its flank, the Vakutan crest etched near the bow in unmistakable relief. Even at this distance, it radiates threat.
“That’s not routine,” I breathe.
I bolt from the server room, the taste of adrenaline metallic on my tongue.
The atrium is louder now, technicians murmuring as they glance up at the overhead displays.
“Did anyone get prior notice on an Alliance cruiser?” I call.
A man at the nearest console swivels, confusion knitting his brow.
“What cruiser?”
I gesture toward the panoramic window, where the vessel shifts position, its underside opening as smaller dropships detach and begin their descent.
Morazin appears above us on the balcony, hands clasped behind his back.
“Remain at your stations,” he calls, his voice amplified, steady. “Routine inspection.”
Routine.
I attempt to open a comm channel, my fingers moving automatically.
“Ops to orbital cruiser, please confirm authorization?—”
Static slams into my ears, sharp and sudden.
I switch to internal channel.
“Security, confirm status.”
Nothing.
The holonet panel beside me flickers, the light dimming as outbound traffic collapses into silence.
It is not a total blackout; it is a suppression.
A surgical one.
The first impact rocks the station as a dropship lands hard on Pad Alpha, the vibration traveling through the floor and up my legs. The air smells suddenly sharper, as though something outside has scorched metal.
