The fires of Halver's Reach still flickered. Ash floated through the damaged docking bays like gray snow, settling on the twisted remains of fighters and the bodies of those who hadn't survived the Council's attack.
Kael Ardyn stood among the wreckage, the weight of it heavy on his chest. They had won, or at least pushed the Council back, but the cost showed in every blackened wall and every silent scream.
Behind him, Lyra stirred weakly on the stretcher the medics had brought into the hangar. Her skin was pale, her breaths shallow, but she was alive. Alive because she had pushed herself past every limit to channel the Ark. Alive because he hadn't let her fall.
Kael tightened his grip on the edge of the stretcher. He hated this feeling of helplessness. He could outfly a dozen fighters and stare down a Council warship, but watching Lyra nearly die had hurt more than any wound from battle.
"Still breathing," a voice remarked.
Kael turned to see Rhea leaning against a support beam, her hair singed and one arm bandaged. She grinned, but her eyes were empty.
"Barely," Kael muttered.
Rhea glanced at Lyra. "She's got fire. But fire goes out quickly if you don't keep an eye on it."
Kael bristled. "She's stronger than you think."
"Maybe," Rhea said gently, studying him. "But strength doesn't mean invincible. Don't forget that."
Later, Kael was called to the Overseer's chamber. The banners on the walls were torn, smoke lingering from stray blasts. The Overseer herself sat upright on her makeshift throne, exhaustion marked on her face, but her eyes remained sharp.
"You fought well," she said as Kael entered. "Your ship saved this colony. Without it, we'd be ashes in the void."
Kael nodded. "We need each other. That's clear now."
The Overseer studied him, her fingers steepled. "Perhaps. But alliances are built on trust. And you, Ardyn, carry shadows. The Council doesn't place bounties that high without reason."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I didn't betray them. I was framed."
Her lips curled slightly. "So every exile says."
He stepped closer, his voice low but steady. "Believe me or not, but the truth is this: they'll keep coming. The next time, it won't just be Halver's Reach. It'll be every free colony from here to the Rim. You need me as much as I need you."
The Overseer regarded him for a long, silent moment. Then she leaned back, her expression unreadable. "You speak like a man who has lost everything but still dares to dream."
Kael's voice softened. "Maybe I have."
Finally, the Overseer nodded. "Very well. Halver's Reach will stand with you. For now. But if you betray me, not even your old warship will save you."
That night, the crew gathered in the bunkroom. Lyra rested fitfully, her face pale in the dim light. Kael sat beside her, his fingers brushing against hers, while Rhea leaned against the wall with her arms folded.
"We can't stay here," Rhea said plainly. "The Council will regroup, and next time, they'll bring twice the firepower."
Kael nodded. "I know. But leaving too soon looks weak. We need time to repair and gather intel."
"Or give the Overseer more time to figure out how to take the Ark from us," Rhea muttered.
Lyra stirred, her voice hoarse but steady. "She won't. Not yet. The Ark won't respond to her. It only listens to us."
Kael's chest tightened at the word "us." He gently tucked a strand of hair from her face. She gave him a faint smile, weary but filled with quiet strength.
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Great. Star-crossed lovers piloting a god-ship. What could possibly go wrong?"
Kael shot her a glare. "You got something to say, Rhea?"
She smirked, but it lacked heat. "Only that the universe has a cruel sense of humor."
The next morning, the Overseer summoned Kael again. This time, she wasn't alone. A thin man with hollow cheeks and sharp eyes waited in the chamber, his hands bound in front of him.
"This," the Overseer said, "is Jorik. One of the Council's little spies, caught trying to send a signal from my comm tower."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "So that's how they found us."
The Overseer nodded. "He claims he has useful information. But I thought it best you hear it directly."
Jorik's eyes darted to Kael, filled with fear and calculation. "You're Ardyn, right? The exile?"
Kael stepped closer, clenching his fists. "Say what you have to say."
Jorik swallowed. "Your brother, Taren. He's alive."
The words hit Kael like a plasma round to the gut. He froze, his heart racing. "That's impossible. I saw the wreckage. I buried what was left."
Jorik shook his head frantically. "The Council took him. He's not dead. He's working for them. More than that—he's leading their black ops in the Frontier. They call him the Ghost Admiral."
The room spun. Kael staggered back, his mind spinning. His brother—the one he had mourned, the one whose death had shattered his life—was alive? Alive and working for the very enemy Kael had vowed to destroy?
"No," Kael whispered. "You're lying."
Jorik's voice trembled. "I swear it on my life. The Council boasts of his victories in secret. He's their weapon in the dark. And he's coming for you."
Kael stumbled from the chamber, the Overseer's sharp gaze on him. He wasn't sure how he made it back to the bunkroom, but when he entered, Lyra was waiting for him, sitting weakly on the edge of her bed.
"Kael," she said softly, her eyes widening at his face. "What happened?"
He couldn't speak at first. His throat felt locked, his chest a storm. Finally, he managed to say, "Taren. My brother. He's alive."
Lyra's lips parted in shock. "Alive? But—"
Kael cut her off, his voice breaking. "Alive, and working for the Council. They call him the Ghost Admiral. He's been hunting me."
Lyra rose unsteadily, reaching for him. He caught her hands, gripping them as if she was the only solid thing in the universe.
"I buried him," Kael whispered. "I thought everything I lost started with his death. And now..."
Lyra pulled him closer, her voice fierce despite her trembling. "Then this isn't the end of the story. If he's alive, we'll find him. We'll uncover the truth."
Kael's eyes burned. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to think that Taren wasn't the monster Jorik said he was. But deep down, dread twisted like poison.
That night, Kael stood on the Ark's command deck, staring into the void. The stars felt colder than ever. His brother's face haunted him, a mix of memories twisted by Jorik's words.
Rhea appeared behind him, her voice unusually soft. "So it's true. He's alive."
Kael didn't look at her. "If it is, then everything changes."
Rhea stepped closer, her smirk gone. "Be careful, Kael. Chasing ghosts can get you killed. Or worse."
He turned to her, his eyes hard. "If Taren is alive, then I'll face him. Council weapon or not."
Rhea studied him, then sighed. "I've seen men lose themselves in revenge. Don't make me watch you do the same."
Kael's jaw clenched. "This isn't revenge. It's family."
She shook her head. "Sometimes, that's worse."
Later, Kael returned to Lyra's side. She slept peacefully, her face calm despite the exhaustion that lingered. He sat beside her, brushing his hand against hers.
"I don't know what's coming," he whispered. "I don't know if I'll find my brother or if I'll have to kill him. But I swear this—"
His voice broke, but he pushed through the storm. "I won't lose you. Not to the Ark, not to the Council, not to fate. Whatever happens, we face it together."
Lyra stirred in her sleep, her fingers curling around his. In that small, fragile touch, Kael found the strength to stand once more.
The Ghost Admiral was out there. And Kael Ardyn would find him.