The village breathed like it had been forgotten by history. Smoke curled from cookfires. A dog barked in the far square. Lanterns swayed on ropes strung across mud walls, casting an amber glow over the cobbles. Children laughed—actual laughter, sharp and startling after the silence of missions. For the first time in weeks, I saw a place that hadn’t been stripped hollow by war. Helene walked beside me, her stride clipped, her chin high. Every order she’d snapped tonight still vibrated in her muscles. She wanted to be seen. She wanted me to see her. “General,” she said, too quickly, “if there are debriefs… I can help collate—” “No debriefs tonight.” I kept my voice even. Her eyes flickered. Relief? Anticipation? She didn’t hide it well. When I told her to come with me, she didn’t hesitate. She jumped at the order, climbing into the ATV like a cadet summoned to a secret. Tires crunched over wet sand as we left the square. Lanterns fell away behind us. The edge of the village was dar

Olympius was no longer quiet.Adebayo’s voice ripped through the command tier, echoing off the glass panels and steel consoles. “Are the Voyagers in range?”No one dared answer. The operators exchanged glances. A thin line of sweat traced one technician’s temple as his fingers danced over the interface.“Ma’am, Voyager Three reports a partial relay. Two and Four are offline.”“Reactivate them,” Adebayo snapped. “I want a visual link over Sector Earth-Blue within ninety seconds.”She leaned over the console, her reflection fractured in the glass like a goddess divided by light. Her hair, normally immaculate, clung damp against her neck. The Olympius Command Center pulsed with warning lights, red ripples washing across the observation deck.“Deactivate the anti-Rake plasma field,” she ordered.Every head turned.“Ma’am?”“You heard me. Bring it down.”“General protocol—”“Bring. It. Down.”The operator swallowed hard. His hand trembled slightly as he entered the override. On the main dis

The Vigilant drifted in a slant of weak light. Dawn was rising somewhere far below the clouds, though out here it looked more like rust spreading through black water. The hull creaked as the heat of the upper atmosphere flexed the plates. For a long moment, no one spoke. We were waiting for the ship to decide whether it still wanted us.The sealed container sat in the center bay, its edges still warm from the last power surge. Nancy crouched beside it, her fingers flying over the projection screen that hovered from the console. Lines of code ran like veins of fire. Each pulse threw shadows across her face.Helene lingered near the viewport, chin high, pretending to watch the horizon. Rachel and !Gareseb sat shoulder-to-shoulder at the weapons bench, cleaning rifles that didn’t need cleaning. Hayes was on comms, pretending the static had meaning. Van Wyk lay strapped to the med-couch, a bandage blooming faintly where his shoulder wound kept re-sealing and reopening. Amani paced between

It returned on silence. Across the frozen dark, a shape moved—thin, skeletal, trailing filaments that shimmered like broken glass. Its body was a cipher now, half organic, half signal. Once, it had been merely a Rake—one of thousands dispatched from the crystalline citadel when the Shepherd first called. Now, it came back alone. The stars bent around it. The void hummed with the low ache of transmission. Every pulse in its body carried stolen sound: human speech, the metallic throb of the Vigilant’s engines, the unholy whisper of the HAARP core awakening. At its heart burned one fragment of human language, looped in static: Return the fire. The Rake crossed the outer moons and descended toward the citadel, the forge-world glowing beneath it like a diseased jewel. Green plumes licked at the sky. The spires of Da’kar’s empire reached upward to receive what they had cast out. It struck the citadel’s outer membrane and did not stop. Flesh met matter, matter met code; the barrie