Page 8 of Aviatrix

I flip the comm switch and tune through static, the frequencies faltering under the weight of the electromagnetic chaos outside.

“Command, this is Nova. Do you read? Repeat, this is Nova. We are under attack at Base Echo. Requesting immediate backup. Airfield compromised. Repeat, airfield compromised.”

Nothing, but hiss.

I grit my teeth and try another channel. “Come on. Someone has to be out there.”

Behind me, Eli curses under his breath as a screen blinks red and the launcher diagnostics refuse to stabilize. Gary mutters something about a secondary power surge. My heart pounds harder.

Suddenly, the static clears as goosebumps rise on my skin.

But it’s not Command. It’s a voice. Smooth. Precise. Not mechanical, but not human either.

“Captain Kinley Quay,” it says.

My entire body goes still.

Eli looks up. “Did you just say your own name?”

I shake my head slowly. “That wasn’t me.”

The voice continues, calm and cold, as if reading from a script written in blood. “We have been watching you. You are not unknown to us.”

The words settle like ice in my spine. Not unknown? To who?

Gary spins around, half-panicked. “Are they tapping our comms?”

Eli moves to my side, watching the transmission log with narrowed eyes. “No. This is direct input. They're inside the system.”

“How the hell do they know my name?” I whisper.

My dad always said that names hold power. So, how do they know mine? And why does it sound like they’ve been waiting for me?

The voice continues, almost kindly now. “We’re not here to harm you. We came to destroy the Legion.”

The Legion? What the hell is the Legion? Is it here? Is that why they’re leveling Langdon right now?

Eli’s fingers brush mine. “Quay, we need to kill the feed.”

“I want to hear it,” I utter, dread coursing through my limbs.

Static returns for a beat before one final line. “We are coming for them, Captain Kinley Quay. And we are very close.”

The signal dies.

The room goes silent except for the low rumble of explosions and muted screams from the runway.

Eli’s hand finds my arm. A quiet, grounding squeeze.

“Focus, Quay,” he says softly. “Don’t let them in your head.”

Too late. But I nod anyway, forcing the terror back down my throat. I can deal with the voice later. Right now, the base is falling apart, we have two fighters in the air, and an enemy targeting us with surgical precision.

“What are the three of you doing?” a voice snaps from behind.

I spin around.

Lark.