The floor beneath her feet tightened.
Then the command call came through.
"Highness. We are under attack."
She remembered standing very still for one breath.
Only one.
Then she moved.
By the time she reached the command pillar, the ship was already taking evasive action. The Verdant Star curved through the void in long, fluid arcs, not jerking like metal ships but bending like a branch in heavy wind.
The hunters followed.
They were smaller, faster in short bursts, and far more aggressive.
They kept firing at the ship's outer shield, testing its rhythm, trying to find where living protection became predictable.
That was what worried Elisaré most.
They were not shooting blindly.
They knew enough about Elven ships to hurt one.
Inside the command chamber, her officers worked quickly. The calm from earlier was gone, replaced by tight focus. No one panicked, but fear had entered the room and taken a seat among them.
"Damage?" Elisaré asked.
