The Ark was quiet again, but the silence felt different. It no longer felt dead or asleep; it breathed. Glyphs pulsed faintly along the walls like veins, a slow rhythm echoing through the ship.
Kael Ardyn stood in the command chamber, staring at the wreckage drifting outside the viewport. The Council ships had fled, but their shadow lingered in his chest. He knew they would return, stronger and ready.
Behind him, Lyra stirred on the steps of the core. She had been unconscious for nearly an hour, her body exhausted from channeling the Ark's power. Now, her eyes fluttered open, the faint glow gone but the memory of it still clear in Kael's mind.
"Easy," he said softly, kneeling beside her. "Don't push yourself."
She blinked, dazed, then focused on him. "Kael… did we—"
"We won," he said, though the word felt fragile. "For now."
Her lips turned up slightly. "Good. I didn't burn myself out for nothing."
Kael exhaled a shaky laugh, relief flooding him. His hand rested against hers, calloused fingers brushing her knuckles. For a moment, neither moved. The hum of the Ark filled the silence, steady and alive.
Then Rhea's voice broke in, sharp and teasing. "Well, aren't you two a sight? Hero cradles the scientist while the smuggler cleans up the mess."
Kael straightened and shot her a look. Rhea lounged against a crystalline spire, polishing her pistols with dramatic flair. Her grin was mischievous, but her eyes held something tougher.
Lyra pulled herself upright, her cheeks warming. "I was stabilizing the synchronization link, not—"
"Not what?" Rhea teased. "Not melting into our fearless leader's arms?"
Kael's patience snapped. "Enough, Rhea."
Her grin widened, sharp like a knife. "Relax. I'm just pointing out what everyone with eyes can see."
Sentinel's voice rumbled through the chamber, neutral yet firm. "Personal distractions reduce efficiency. The Ark requires focus."
Kael sighed. "Finally, something we agree on."
Hours later, the crew gathered in what they called a strategy room—an alien chamber reshaped by Sentinel into a basic holographic projection hub.
The map displayed the Frontier sector, dotted with drifting colonies, outlaw havens, and storm-torn voids. The Council's territory loomed like a shadow curled around it.
"We can't stay here," Kael began. "The Council knows our location. The cult does too. If we wait, they'll trap us between them."
Rhea kicked her boots onto the table. "So what's the plan, Captain? Run until our engines overheat?"
"Not run. Hit back," Kael said firmly. "We find allies. Colonies, smugglers, anyone tired of the Council's grip. The Ark gives us leverage, but only if we have people ready to stand with us."
Lyra frowned thoughtfully. "There are free colonies near the Rim—settlements the Council barely recognizes. They've resisted for years, quietly. If we can reach them, they might listen."
Rhea scoffed. "Or sell us to the highest bidder."
Lyra's eyes flashed. "Not everyone is like you."
The tension sizzled between them. Kael interrupted before it escalated. "We'll take the risk. But we can't show up in an ancient alien warship and expect them to welcome us. We'll need to be subtle."
Rhea smirked. "Subtle? From you? Now that's a first."
Kael ignored her. "We'll use the courier. Smaller, less noticeable. Sentinel can hide the Ark's signature while we're gone."
Sentinel inclined its head. "Possible, but dangerous. Leaving the Ark unguarded invites infiltration."
Kael's jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice."
Later, as the courier prepared for launch, Kael found Rhea in the hangar. She was checking her gear with practiced efficiency, her movements sharp and precise.
"You've been quiet," Kael said, leaning against the bulkhead.
Rhea didn't look up. "Not quiet. Watching."
Kael crossed his arms. "Something bothering you?"
Her gaze flicked to him, cool and assessing. "You're different, Kael. You used to look out for yourself. Now, with this scientist around, you're ready to start a rebellion."
Kael clenched his jaw. "What's your point?"
"My point," Rhea said, holstering a pistol, "is that attachments make you careless. I've seen men lose everything because they couldn't think past the person they wanted to protect."
Kael stepped closer. "And I've seen men lose everything because they never had anyone worth protecting."
For a moment, their eyes locked. Old history flared between them—familiar, sharp-edged, unresolved. Then Rhea smirked, breaking the tension.
"Be careful, Kael. If you keep talking like that, I might think you've grown a soul."
The courier slipped away from the Ark, engines low, weaving into the storm-covered lanes of the Frontier. Lyra manned the scanners, Rhea lounged in the co-pilot seat, and Kael flew with steady focus.
They aimed for a Rim colony named Halver's Reach, a mining settlement rumored to harbor smugglers and freedom fighters.
But halfway through the journey, alarms blared.
Lyra's eyes widened. "I'm picking up a signal—broadcasting on encrypted Council frequencies."
Kael cursed, adjusting the controls. "From where?"
Her hands flew over the console. "From us."
Rhea froze, then stood slowly. "Now, let's not get dramatic—"
Kael spun on her, anger in his eyes. "You planted a beacon."
She raised her hands, feigning innocence. "Insurance. A girl has to keep her options open."
Lyra's voice trembled with outrage. "You sold us out? After everything?"
Rhea's smirk faltered, but only for a moment. "I didn't sell you. Yet. I just… left a door open. In case this whole crazy mission goes south."
Kael's fists clenched. "You put us all at risk."
Rhea's expression hardened, dropping the playful act. "I put myself at risk the moment I joined you. Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same in my position."
The silence was heavy. Then Lyra's console blared. "Council interceptors—closing in!"
Kael snapped back to the controls. "Buckle up!"
The courier jolted as plasma fire streaked past its hull. Three sleek interceptors swooped in, weapons blazing.
Kael dove the ship into a storm current, lightning flashing around them. "Rhea, turrets! Now!"
She hesitated for a moment—then swore and scrambled to the gunner's chair. "Fine, but we're not done discussing this!"
Lyra clung to her console, rerouting power to shields. "I can boost us by twenty percent, but it'll deplete reserves fast!"
"Do it!" Kael growled, weaving the ship through the storm.
Rhea's cannons roared, blasting one interceptor apart. But the other two pushed harder, closing in.
Kael gritted his teeth, sweat slicking his palms. He'd flown through countless firefights, but this one felt different. The crew mattered. Lyra mattered. He couldn't lose her—not here.
He pulled the courier into a steep climb, storm winds pummeling the hull. Plasma fire seared past them, then the ship dropped suddenly, spinning into a dive. The interceptors overshot, and Rhea's cannons lit up, destroying the second.
The last interceptor veered away, breaking off.
Breathless silence filled the cockpit.
Kael set the courier on a drifting path, hands trembling against the controls. He turned slowly to Rhea, who was panting, hair plastered to her face.
"You ever pull something like that again," he said quietly, dangerously, "and I'll space you myself."
Rhea met his gaze, her smirk vanished. For once, she looked almost human, almost regretful. "Fair enough."
Lyra's voice was soft but firm. "You nearly got us killed."
Rhea didn't respond. She simply looked away, jaw tense.
Kael exhaled, steadying himself. "Halver's Reach is still ahead. We'll head for it. But from now on—we move as one. No more games."
He looked at Lyra, whose eyes met his with a mix of fear and trust. And in that look, Kael found the strength to push forward.