The Ark floated in the void, battered and bruised but alive. Its hull bore scorch marks from the Ghost Fleet's fire, and its engines wheezed faintly as repairs ran in endless cycles. Inside, silence hung heavy.
Kael sat by Lyra's bedside in the medbay, watching her chest rise and fall. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow, and though the med scanners assured him she would recover, fear clutched at his chest like an iron hand.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, whispering, "You saved us all… again. But I can't keep asking you to burn yourself for me. For this war."
Rhea's voice cut through the quiet. "You'll keep asking. Because you don't have another choice."
Kael turned sharply. Rhea leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp but not unkind.
"You don't get to carry all this alone, Captain," she said. "She chose this. We all did."
Kael clenched his fists. "She almost died."
"Welcome to war." Rhea stepped closer, lowering her tone. "I don't like it either. But the truth is, she's stronger than you give her credit for. You're both stronger together. Maybe that's what scares your brother the most."
Kael swallowed hard, looking back at Lyra. He didn't answer, but his grip on her hand tightened.
Hours later, Lyra stirred, her lashes fluttering. Kael leaned forward instantly. "Lyra? I'm here."
Her eyes opened, weary but bright. "Kael…"
Relief flooded him. He almost laughed, almost cried. Instead, he just held her hand to his lips. "Don't scare me like that again."
A faint smile touched her lips. "I'll try… but I can't promise."
He chuckled softly, then sobered. "You risked everything back there. I should have protected you."
Her fingers curled weakly into his. "You did. If you hadn't held Taren off, I never would have finished the link. We protect each other—that's how this works."
Kael's throat tightened. He wanted to tell her everything—the fear, the love, the way her presence was the only thing keeping him steady—but the words tangled. Instead, he kissed her hand again, silently promising himself he wouldn't fail her.
Later, in the Ark's command chamber, Kael stood with Rhea and Lyra, who had insisted on joining despite her lingering exhaustion. The starfield map glowed between them, showing Taren's fleet movements.
Rhea tapped the display. "He's consolidating. Building a war machine. Once he's ready, he'll march on the Frontier colonies. And when he does, they won't stand a chance alone."
Kael nodded grimly. "Which means we need allies. The Frontier's too fractured, too divided. But if we can rally them under one banner, we might have a fighting chance."
Lyra leaned on the console, her voice steady but urgent. "They won't trust the Council. Not anymore. But they might trust us—if we can prove what Taren is planning."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then that's our mission. We don't just fight him. We unite the Frontier."
Rhea smirked. "So we're diplomats now. Great. Do I get to wear a fancy uniform?"
Kael cracked a faint smile. "Only if it scares people."
That night, Kael found himself on the observation deck, staring out at the stars. His mind churned with questions—about Taren, about the war, about the fragile hope of uniting the Frontier.
Lyra joined him quietly, her presence like gravity pulling him back to earth. She stood beside him, gazing at the same endless stars.
"You're thinking too loud," she teased softly.
He smiled faintly. "Can't help it. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Taren. The man he used to be. The man he's become."
Lyra touched his arm gently. "You're not him, Kael. You don't have to carry his choices."
He turned to her, his voice raw. "But he's still my brother."
Her eyes softened. "Then fight him as a brother. Not because you hate him, but because you love what he once was. That's the difference between you and him."
Kael's breath caught. In that moment, he realized how much he needed her—not just her strength, but her clarity, her faith in him when his own faltered.
Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
It wasn't the desperate kiss of fear or survival—it was slow, tender, a promise of everything he hadn't dared to say. She melted into him, her hands gripping his arms, her lips answering with equal fire and softness.
When they finally pulled apart, Lyra's smile was luminous. "Took you long enough."
Kael laughed, forehead resting against hers. "I wasn't sure if I'd survive long enough to get the chance."
"Then stop doubting. We'll survive. Together."
The next day, the Ark's engines roared as it turned toward the Frontier worlds. Kael stood on the deck, his crew at his side, determination hardening into resolve.
"We'll start with the Rim colonies," he said. "They've fought the Council before. If anyone will listen, it's them."
Rhea grinned. "Finally. Some people who hate the Council as much as I do."
Lyra placed her hand on the console, her eyes shining. "The Ark will carry us. But it won't be easy. The Frontier is full of mistrust. They'll need proof… and hope."
Kael nodded. "Then we'll give them both. Whatever it takes."
The Ark surged forward, stars stretching into lines as it jumped into the void.
Kael's voice lingered in the hum of the ship, low but certain.
"Taren wants to shatter the galaxy. We'll make it whole again. One world at a time."
And with Lyra's hand in his, for the first time since his exile, Kael truly believed it might be possible.