The gorge was less a sanctuary and more a wound in the earth—a deep fissure shielded by a precarious overhang of basalt rock. It was frigid, smelling faintly of sulfur and the sharp, metallic tang of the nebula. But it was secure. Above them, the swirling gasses of NX-73 swallowed the meager light, making detection from the air nearly impossible.Lyra collapsed against the cold stone, breathing hard. Her ribs felt like shattered glass with every inhale. The hum of the scavengers' engines, audible only moments ago, had faded, swallowed by the planet's electromagnetic noise. They were safe, for now. She stripped off her helmet, running a hand over her damp forehead. Across the narrow cavern, Orion stood guard, his posture rigid despite the obvious strain on his injured leg. The moment he lowered his guard, she realized, was the moment she should either shoot him or accept their shared fate. She chose, bitterly, the latter."Sit down, Strategist," she ordered, pulling the emergency med-pack from the rubble pile. "That leg is compromised. If you fight me now, you'll bleed out before your people even hear the distress signal your Night-Talon failed to send."Orion's dark eyes fixed on her. "I haven't activated my distress beacon, Warrior Lyra. Nor should you. Any signal broadcast in this nebula is easily triangulated by the very scavengers we just avoided. They are predators; they don't need a strong signal, only an echo." He moved, slow and deliberate, sinking onto a flat stone. "Survival dictates silence."Lyra cursed, recognizing the tactical superiority of his assessment. The Solari favored overt displays of power; the Lunara, quiet erasure. She opened the med-pack. It contained basic synth-skin patches, pain suppressors, and two doses of bone sealant.She first applied a dose of sealant to her own ribs, the cold chemical burn forcing a gasp from her. Then, she knelt, reluctantly, before her enemy."Remove the lower pauldron and the greave," she instructed. "I need to see the damage."He complied without protest, the action revealing a wound that was far worse than Lyra had assumed. The impact had shattered the ceramic plating and twisted the muscle beneath. It wasn't a clean fracture; it was a complex mess of bruising and internal bleeding."You've been walking on a Grade III muscle tear, and potentially a hairline fracture in the tibia," Lyra said, her voice dropping into the clinical efficiency she used for treating her squadmates. It was easier than acknowledging this man was the enemy. "Lunara technology or not, your body isn't invincible.""It's simply engineered for endurance," Orion replied, watching her hands as she worked. "And I was not prioritizing my physical integrity over securing the primary power cell."Lyra administered the pain suppressor, then carefully cleaned the wound before applying a thick patch of synth-skin designed to hold the damaged muscle together. The work required proximity, forcing her to lean close. She could feel the chill radiating from his armor and smell the faint, clean scent of ozone and something else—a spice she couldn't place."I was told Lunara were heartless architects of the void," Lyra said, unable to keep the thought from escaping. "That you felt no pain, only the mathematical certainty of victory."Orion let out a soft, humorless exhale. "We are often defined by the fear of our adversaries, Lyra. Pain is a universal constant. But strategy requires one to compartmentalize constants. I feel it. I simply choose not to prioritize it over the objective."She tied the final bandage, securing it tightly. "And the objective now? What does your grand strategy demand?"Orion looked past her, toward the narrow entrance of the cave, now shrouded in the violet glow of the fungi. "The objective remains survival. Your people taught you that Lunara seek to extinguish the Solari light, yes?"
"It is the truth," Lyra asserted, gripping her knees. "We are the sun, the life-giver. You are the shadow that consumes."
"And you, Lyra, believe the light has the right to incinerate everything that stands in its way," Orion countered, his eyes finally meeting hers. They were incredibly steady, holding the weight of centuries of conflict. "I was taught that the Solari are a scorching plague. That your zealotry threatens to destabilize the balance, leaving the galaxy scorched and barren in your blinding pursuit of glory.""It's not glory. It's order! It's the Ascendancy!" Lyra bristled, her warrior spirit instantly igniting."Or," Orion continued, unmoved, "it is simply the preservation of your way of life, built upon the ruins of everything that is not Solari." He gestured to the small, dark piece of star-map material she'd seen earlier, which he now held in his lap. "This map is not a symbol of aggression. It is a remembrance of a Lunara world that existed for ten millennia before a Solari fleet decided it was an 'obstacle to expansion.' The eternal war is merely two frightened species projecting their existential terror onto the other."Lyra felt her worldview tremble. It was a dangerous, heretical thought. She had been raised on propaganda, trained to see the Lunara as a faceless, monolithic evil. Yet, here was Orion, wounded, holding a personal relic, articulating a perspective that, however twisted, was undeniably personal.She stood up abruptly, needing distance. "Save your philosophy, Strategist. It won't power a repair kit.""I have already calculated that," Orion said, pushing himself up carefully, leaning heavily on the rock wall. He reached down and retrieved the small, utilitarian field knife strapped to his good leg. "We will need to cannibalize components from both wrecks. My analysis indicates your power cell has sufficient output, but your ship's life support filters are completely compromised. Mine are functional, but my power core is unstable."He met her gaze, his expression now purely tactical. "We have one functional filter system, and one reliable power source. We must connect them. I provide the technical architecture and the filtration unit. You provide the muscle and the energy. We will build a temporary shelter using the strongest parts of both vessels."He held out the knife, hilt first. "The Architect and the Firebrand. A partnership of necessity. Take this, Lyra. We need to start cutting metal."