Page 114 of Alien Soldier's Heir

Then I whisper, voice raw and honest and breaking open all over again, “I’m staying.”

Nova turns to me, eyes wide.

“I don’t care what the Alliance says. I don’t care about contracts or missions or black ops wormhole programs. I have everything I ever wanted right here.”

She stares at me for a moment, lips parted like she’s about to say something monumental. Then she leans in, hand sliding across the blanket to mine.

“You better mean that, Vakutan,” she murmurs.

I meet her eyes.

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

Outside the fort, the stars keep turning.

But inside?

Inside we’re finally still.

CHAPTER 46

NOVA

The hum of the debrief room is too sterile. Cold white light slices down from the ceiling like surgical blades, sterile and over-bright, bouncing off chrome and datapads and the polished boots of the brass sitting across from me. There’s a stale smell of recycled air and sour sweat, the kind of scent that clings to adrenaline and bureaucracy.

Stark sits in restraints at the far end of the table, wrists cuffed with high-frequency magnetic locks that could melt bone if he tried anything cute. Not that it matters. His face is a masterclass in smug indifference. Leaning back in the chair like we’re all just delaying his lunch break.

“You think this is over?” he says. Voice calm. Almost bored. But there’s something under it—like the low vibration before a quake. “You don’t even know what you turned on.”

I don’t blink. “We shut down your array. Your override’s been scrubbed. You’re done.”

Stark chuckles. A deep, slow,shit-eatingsound that makes my molars grind.

“You shut downanode,” he says. “Notthesystem. The real show’s still spinning.”

Vice Admiral Linx, perched two seats to my right, cuts in. “We’re conducting a full system sweep now. The Alliance will contain this.”

Stark tilts his head, and the grin that crawls across his face makes me want to knock it clean off.

“You can’t contain physics,” he purrs. “You can only dance to it. And you, Captain Starling?—”

I flinch. He shouldn’t know I’ve been reinstated.

“—you danced first.”

Guards drag him out before I can respond, boots scraping against the tile. But the smirk stays behind. Like a ghost in the room.

I exhale hard, running both hands through my hair, pressing my palms to my eyes until spots bloom behind my lids. The silence after his exit is heavier than his presence. No one says anything for a long beat.

Then Linx stands. “We’ll issue a full sweep protocol. Thank you for your cooperation, Captain.”

I want to scream. “You’re not listening.”

He pauses. “Excuse me?”

“There’s somethinginthe system. I saw the data. Stark uploaded one last set of commandsafterwe secured the mainframe. That wasn’t sabotage—it was a delayed sequence. Timed. Hidden.”

Linx’s jaw tightens. “We’ll review the logs.”