Renne did not destroy the chip.
She sat on her bed, the gray slate in one hand and the chip in the other, and stared at both. The chip pulsed with its steady blue light, warm against her palm. The slate was dark, inert.
She had been back in her room for an hour. Her hands had stopped shaking. The scrapes on her knees had dried to a crust. But her mind was still in the ventilation shaft—the heat, the dark, the walls pressing in.
She set the slate aside and held the chip up to the light. It looked ordinary: a small rectangle of gray metal, faint circuit lines etched into its surface. But the light came from somewhere inside, a glow that had no visible source.
'What are you?'
She had tried to access it. The chip had no port, no interface, no visible way to connect. It was sealed, smooth, except for the pulse of light that seemed to beat in time with her own heart.
She pressed her thumb against its surface. The light flared.
Data flooded her vision.
Not on a screen—in her mind. Images, symbols, lines of code scrolling too fast to read. She saw star charts, schematics of mechas she had never seen, faces she did not recognize. A voice, distorted, speaking words she could not understand.
Then it stopped.
Renne gasped, her hand jerking back. The chip fell onto the bed, its light dimmed to a faint pulse.
Her head throbbed. She pressed her palm against her forehead, trying to steady her breathing.
'It's keyed to me. The genetic match. It only activates when I touch it.'
She picked up the chip again, more carefully this time. The light pulsed softly, waiting.
She did not activate it again. Not here, not now. She needed to understand what she was seeing before she dove deeper.
She tucked the chip into the hidden pocket she had sewn into her uniform—the same pocket where she had kept it on Mars. Then she lay back on her bed and closed her eyes.
Sleep did not come. But the images from the chip played behind her eyelids, fragmentary, demanding.
---
The next morning, the academy was buzzing.
Renne walked into the mess hall and felt it immediately—a shift in the air, a tension that had not been there before. Cadets huddled in groups, their voices low, their eyes darting toward the doors.
She took her usual seat at the empty table. Eris slid into the chair across from her a moment later, her face pale.
"Did you hear?" Eris whispered.
"Hear what?"
"Someone broke into the vault last night. Sector 7, Level 12." Eris leaned closer. "They're saying it was an inside job. Someone with noble clearance."
Renne kept her expression neutral. "What was taken?"
"They're not saying. But security is locked down. They're checking everyone's access logs, reviewing all the camera footage." Eris's eyes were wide. "They're saying whoever did it is going to be executed. No trial. Just… gone."
Renne's stomach tightened. She forced herself to take a bite of her nutrient block, chewing slowly.
"They won't find anything," she said. "Whoever did it probably covered their tracks."
Eris looked at her for a moment, something unreadable in her eyes. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeah. Probably."
They ate in silence. When Renne glanced toward the nobles' tables, she saw Zade sitting with his back to her, speaking quietly to another noble. He did not look her way.
---
The morning drill was combat simulation—hand-to-hand with training mechas, no weapons. Renne was paired with a citizen she did not know, a stocky boy named Toren who moved with practiced ease.
He pinned her twice in the first three minutes. The third time, she slipped his hold and drove her elbow into his ribs. He grunted and let go, stepping back.
"Where'd you learn that?" he asked, rubbing his side.
"Mars," she said.
He looked at her with something that might have been respect. "Okay. Again."
They sparred for another ten minutes. Renne lost more than she won, but she landed more hits each round. By the end, Toren was breathing hard, his uniform damp.
"You're fast," he said. "Sloppy, but fast."
"I'll take it."
He nodded and walked away. Renne stood in the training bay, watching the other cadets pair off. No one else approached her.
Vex appeared at her side, his red eye glowing. "You're improving."
"I have to."
"Yes." He paused. "The vault breach last night. You know anything about it?"
Renne's pulse quickened, but she kept her face blank. "I heard about it. That's all."
Vex studied her for a long moment. His cybernetic eye whirred softly as it adjusted focus.
"Whoever did it left no trace. No camera footage, no access logs, no biometric signatures." His voice was low. "Whoever did it had help from inside."
He walked away before she could respond. Renne stood there, her hands steady at her sides, her heart pounding.
---
After drills, Renne walked toward the hangar. She needed to be with Argent. The mecha's presence was the only thing that felt solid, real, in a day that seemed to be shifting under her feet.
She was halfway there when she heard footsteps behind her. Fast. Purposeful.
She did not slow. She kept walking, her eyes forward.
"Inductee Renne."
The voice was female, sharp, official. Renne stopped and turned.
A woman in an Imperial Security uniform stood behind her. Her hair was pulled back tight, her face expressionless. A tablet was in her hand.
"I'm Lieutenant Saris. I need to ask you a few questions."
Renne's throat went dry. "About what?"
"The vault breach." Saris's eyes were cold, assessing. "Your name came up in the access log analysis. You were in Sector 7 two nights ago. The night before the breach."
Renne's mind raced. 'Zade said he scrubbed the logs. But she's here. She knows.'
"I was looking for a maintenance access," Renne said. "My quarters had a cooling issue. Someone directed me to Sector 7."
Saris's expression did not change. "Who directed you?"
"I don't remember. A maintenance drone."
The lie felt thin, fragile. Renne held her breath.
Saris studied her for a long moment. Then she looked down at her tablet and tapped the screen.
"Your biometrics were not recorded in the vault itself. But you were in the sector." She looked up. "If you remember anything else, report to security immediately."
She turned and walked away, her boots sharp on the metal floor.
Renne stood frozen until the footsteps faded. Then she exhaled, a long, shaking breath.
'She knows I was there. She doesn't have proof. But she's watching now.'
She forced her legs to move, walking toward the hangar. Her steps were steady, but her mind was a storm.
---
The hangar was quiet when she arrived. Most cadets were still at drills. Renne walked to Argent's alcove and climbed into the cockpit.
She needed to be with the mecha. The chip was hidden inside it. And right now, she needed to know it was safe.
She opened the maintenance panel. The chip was exactly where she had left it, its blue light pulsing softly.
She did not touch it. She just looked at it, letting its steady glow anchor her.
"They're watching," she whispered. "They know I was there."
The chip pulsed once, brighter. Then it dimmed.
Renne closed the panel and leaned her forehead against the cool metal.
'I'm going to figure out what you are,' she thought. 'And then I'm going to figure out what my father wanted me to do with you. But first, I need to survive long enough to do it.'
The mecha's hum deepened, a low vibration that traveled through her skull. She stayed there for a long time, letting it steady her, letting the warmth of Argent's presence push back the cold weight of the past few days.
When she finally climbed out of the cockpit, she saw Zade standing at the entrance to the alcove. His arms were crossed, his face tight.
"Lieutenant Saris just requested my access logs," he said quietly. "She's digging."
"She stopped me in the corridor." Renne climbed down the ladder. "She knows I was in Sector 7. She doesn't have proof, but she's watching."
Zade's jaw tightened. "She's smart. If she keeps digging, she'll find something." He looked at her. "We need to be careful. No more contact for a few days. Let the investigation cool."
Renne nodded. "The chip is safe. Hidden in Argent."
"Good." He turned to leave, then paused. "Renne. Whatever is on that chip, you need to figure it out fast. If Saris gets her hands on it, we're both dead."
He walked away. Renne watched him go, then looked back at Argent. Through the cockpit canopy, she could see the faint blue glow of the chip through the maintenance panel.
'Fast,' she thought. 'I don't have time to be careful.'
She walked out of the hangar, her steps steady, her eyes forward. Behind her, the chip pulsed once, bright and sure.
---
That night, Renne sat in her room, the slate in her hands. It had not glowed since before the vault. She turned it over, examined its blank surface, pressed the edges.
Nothing.
She set it on her bedside table and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
'Who sent you? Why did you help me? And why did you lock us in?'
The questions circled in her head, unanswered. And now a security officer was circling too, asking questions of her own.
She reached under her pillow and pulled out the scrap of paper from her father—the note she had kept hidden since Mars. The handwriting was small, cramped, written in haste.
*'For Renne. If they come, this is the only way we are free.'*
She read the words again, searching for a meaning she had missed.
'The only way we are free.'
She folded the paper and tucked it back under her pillow. Then she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
When she finally drifted off, it was to the image of the chip's blue light, pulsing in the dark, waiting. And in her dreams, Lieutenant Saris's cold eyes followed her through endless corridors, always one step behind, but never stopping.
---
The next morning, her bracelet beeped with a new message.
*Investigation closed. No suspects identified. Security protocols upgraded.*
She stared at the words. Closed. Just like that.
She thought of Zade, saying he would handle it. She thought of the unknown sender, who had scrubbed footage and erased logs. She thought of Lieutenant Saris, whose questions had suddenly stopped.
Someone had made this go away. Someone with power, with reach.
She dressed quickly and went to the hangar. She needed to see the chip, to make sure it was still there.
When she opened the maintenance panel, the chip was exactly where she had left it. Its blue light pulsed softly, steady and patient.
She closed the panel and leaned her forehead against Argent's cool metal.
'The investigation is closed. But Saris will remember my name. And sooner or later, she'll come back.'
She stayed there for a long time, letting the hum of the mecha steady her.
When she finally climbed out of the cockpit, she was ready.
The chip was safe. The investigation was over. But the clock was still ticking. She had five days left to understand what she had stolen—and to figure out who was really pulling the strings.
She walked out of the hangar, her steps steady, her eyes forward.
Behind her, in the dark of the maintenance panel, the chip pulsed once, bright and sure.