Page 250 of Reaper Said Mine

“Yes.”

“The shell-freighter registry links?”

“Yes.”

“The committee seal packet?”

I tap the inside of my jacket. “Here.”

Halden steps closer, lowering her voice. “If you are detained before Ceres Relay, you invoke my office and Senator Vale’s office in that order. If you are detained after Ceres, invoke neither. At that point, official attention may endanger you more than help you.”

Bellamy stares at her. “That is the least comforting instruction anyone has ever delivered in a nice coat.”

“She needs accuracy, not comfort.”

“I am fond of both.”

“Then you chose the wrong profession.”

I adjust the strap of my travel case. “What about the intervention packet?”

Vale’s expression hardens. “We push it in three hours. Pelt will present the containment doctrine timeline, Milton will handle the legal comparison, and Bellamy will release the public explainer after the committee seal attaches.”

Bellamy looks offended. “I do know my part, Senator.”

“Yes,” Gail says. “I am repeating it because you look like a man who might misplace his own bloodstream.”

“Rude but not unsupported.”

Halden’s gaze shifts toward the public screens. Another commentator appears above the crowd, speaking over footage of Coalition capital ships and old clips of Reaper raids. The chyron reads: ALLIANCE WEIGHS PROTECTIVE ACTION AS COALITION EXPANDS BADLANDS PRESENCE.

“They are going to move soon,” Halden says.

My fingers tighten around the case handle.

“How soon?”

“Days if public pressure continues shifting. Hours if another high-casualty incident gives the hawks cover.”

The bond inside me aches at the thought of Guyver under fire again, of Gnash standing before a war map while every direction offers another trap. His last message sits on my compad, read so many times I know each word by touch.

My revenge has failed me. I do not yet know how to stand without it, but I am learning where to put my hands.

I want to be there when he figures it out. I want to look him in the eye and make him explain the treaty, the choices, the limits, the cost. I want to be furious in the same room instead of across corrupted relays. I want to put my hands on his face and tell him I understand more than I forgive, which is a terrible thing to say to someone you love, but at least it would be true.

Gail watches me too closely. “You do understand that going back to Guyver may make you less useful to the public case.”

“I understand.”

“Then why go?”

I meet her eyes. “Because the evidence I have now can slow an intervention. The evidence on Guyver may stop one.”

“That is the professional answer.”

“It is also true.”

“And the personal answer?”