Chapter 39 – The Return

Elira stood still in the datavault chamber, watching the dim light flicker across the lattice of ancient and modern systems. Her processors were working overtime—not because of the workload, but to keep herself calm, to contain the roiling uncertainty.

And the gratitude.

She shot a silent glance toward Brakka, crouched by a spindly terminal, his long fingers ghosting over a jury-rigged interface with eerie precision. Lines of code flowed across his visor as he copied core directories, protocols, and encrypted datasets without breaking a sweat.

To the side, Vranos leaned with exaggerated ease against a cold bulkhead, chatting up a rebel technician with his signature half-smile, his voice smooth like synthetic velvet. Whatever he was learning, he was soaking it in with the easy grace of someone who had made his living understanding people—before, during, and after they died.

Fenrir paced along the side corridor, inspecting wall panels and door locks, his eyes tracing access routes and power lines. He was all control now, all function—but Elira could feel the edge in him, the tension behind his restraint.

She exhaled softly, her internal systems releasing excess charge.

They're playing along, she thought. Even though they know I held something back. Even though they know I lied.

The look Vranos had thrown her—amused, razor-sharp, and utterly knowing—had made it clear: the questions would come. But not here. Not now. He was giving her the room she needed.

For now.

Her optics caught a flicker from a nearby display screen, where a still frame of the Rian message had frozen mid-sentence. The edges were too clean, the modulation too tight. It had been doctored. Not faked—no, the scientist would never do that—but crafted.

He had stitched that clip together from her own data logs—old messages, fragments of conversations, telemetry she didn't know she'd kept.

You knew I might need this, she thought toward him, though he wasn't here. You planned this, somehow. You saw this far ahead.

She felt a ripple of awe. And something else. Disquiet.

No one should be that prepared. Not even him.

Brakka gave a thumbs-up from across the room. "Mirroring's almost done," he said. "Their systems are older than expected, but the structure is sound. This'll be a good harvest."

Elira nodded. "Prioritize communication logs. Anything tied to site movements, high-security alerts."

He waved a hand dismissively—already on it.

Nearby, Fenrir stopped pacing and leaned into one of the physical sitemaps, tracing the outpost's internal layout. He didn't look at her, not directly, but she could feel his attention like a held breath.

And Vranos? Still charming, still listening—but his eyes occasionally flicked to her, asking silent questions he hadn't voiced yet.

Elira turned her gaze inward.

Who was Rian Koss, really?

Rebels didn't just surrender datacores and open their command sanctums to corporate agents—not even rogue ones. And yet, here they were, willingly letting Brakka extract their secrets, letting Fenrir inspect their security grids, letting Vranos poke and prod at their people.

Who were you, Rian? she thought. And why do they trust you so completely—even now, when you're gone?

She turned toward Lessa, ready to approach her.

Then the lights dimmed, and the klaxons shattered the silence.

SIRENS.

Red strobes pulsed across the room. Emergency lights slammed on in the corridors.

A voice came over the station-wide intercom:

"Gate breach—recon unit returning early. Heavy damage. Unknown hostiles may be in pursuit. All units to defensive positions."

Lessa's voice followed a moment later, sharper than a blade.

"All non-combatants—lock down. Command team, follow me."

Elira's spine locked.

The hunters are back.

And from the shift in atmosphere, the rebels hadn't expected them yet. Something had gone wrong out there.

Very wrong.

She looked around—at Brakka closing down terminals, at Fenrir already moving toward the corridor, at Vranos whose smirk had vanished like mist in wind.

The balance was shifting again.

And Elira was caught in the eye of the storm.