Page 22 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Pherebos.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the intel Akifumi shared.

The Confederation’s developed a new kind of weapon—not for planetary assaults, but as a defense against the Coalition’s increasingly aggressive attacks.

The Coalition sees them as easy prey: rich, vulnerable, and worth exploiting without much risk.

So, the researchers came up with a hybrid shield—both defensive and offensive.

Naturally, my thoughts went straight to Asgarne, my home planet… and to Eris, where Silmarwen—my beautiful Soul Dedicated—has been living ever since she met her life partner.

Akifumi told me the shield’s schematics are top secret. If they ever fell into Coalition hands, they could be used to disable the shield entirely. That’s why we decided to send out incomplete versions of the plans to a few trusted bases. It’s a kind of bait—meant to help us track any leaks.

Akifumi’s supposed to meet me here on MyFaS soon. He’ll fill me in on the rest .

I’ve been thinking a lot about the latest intel Akifumi shared.

The governor of Jaga-18 has officially issued a warrant for Ileana.

She’s now wanted for murder. But the arrogant fool still hasn’t figured out she’s no longer on his base.

He probably assumes she’s dead—lost somewhere in the undergrowth.

But as long as there’s no body, there’s still a chance she’s alive, and that means he’ll keep looking.

Meanwhile, Akifumi’s recovered all the files tied to my Soul Dedicated. He’s working on getting him a false identity so he can safely travel to a Confederation base. He even had two suits tailored to his measurements.

I’m excited to see my mentor again, but I can’t help feeling a little uneasy about keeping Ileana in the dark. Akifumi asked me not to tell her anything until he’s had a chance to evaluate her himself. He’s cautious like that.

If everything goes smoothly, she’ll know the truth about my secret role in the Confederation within a few days. Who knows—she might even have valuable intel of her own. After all, she was the governor’s companion for over a year and a half. Just thinking about that makes my stomach turn.

Back in the dining room, I notice she’s gone.

My first thought: the lake. I can’t help but worry.

If I hadn’t been there last time… I don’t even want to think about it.

I rushed back to her faster than I’ve ever traveled.

And thank the stars I did. I almost lost her. That thought alone still shakes me .

When I step outside, I spot her and Wingo standing close to the building. I walk over, heart still pounding, and share the good news.

“Akifumi’s coming in a few days!”

“Does he know everything about Ileana?” Wingo asks.

“What does he know? He knows she’s wanted for murder. But he believes me when I say she’s innocent.”

“What about your link?”

“No, but seriously—do you think I’m just going to tell everyone? She doesn’t even know! And at the rate things are going between us, she probably won’t for years!”

“Wow, look at you! The great Pherebos, thrown off balance by a young human. Confidence much?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business for once? Don’t you have a pile of insects to go harass somewhere?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone and come back later to see how it’s going.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Ileana asks, catching the tail end of our telepathic exchange.

I clear my throat. “Not at all. Wingo was just about to leave us.”

I realize how confusing my behavior must seem.

She has every right to be offended by our private exchanges.

I can’t exactly explain that I have no secrets from Wingo—while clearly keeping some from her.

The truth is, I’ve been keeping Wingo at arm’s length lately.

Even his silent judgments make me uncomfortable.

For now, I’ve decided to share a little with her—but not everything .

She’s watching me, waiting for me to speak. There’s suspicion in her eyes, and I don’t blame her. I hesitate, unsure where to begin. So instead, I pull out the analyzer.

It’s a start.

“As you know, the Intergalactic Confederation was founded by the Polarian people—highly advanced, technologically speaking. They’re peaceful, but not naive. They understand how even the most innocent invention can be twisted into something dangerous by the wrong hands.”

“I know that,” she replies quickly. “But I’ve never had direct contact with the Coalition, if that’s who you’re talking about. All I know is they’re made up of worlds outside the Confederation’s control, and they’ve got a reputation for being… shady. I’m not naive.”

“To be honest, I deal with them more often than I’d like.

My official role in the Confederation is to explore the galaxy and identify planets that could be terraformed.

There’s a lot to consider—sometimes a planet has all the right conditions, but it’s missing that final spark for life to take hold.

When that happens, I log the coordinates, and a team of specialists comes in. The process can take decades.”

“Like on MyFaS?” she asks.

“Exactly like MyFaS. But when you’re out there, you inevitably cross paths with Coalition ships. Sometimes you have to stop at one of their bases. To blend in, I trade things they’re interested in.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re a drug dealer?! ”

I wince. I knew this part would be tricky.

“No, Ileana, not like that! I do a bit of tech trafficking—harmless stuff. If I have to stop on a Coalition base, I need a cover story. So I wear neutral gear and carry a few counterfeit items. That’s it. That’s the whole story.”

She crosses her arms, clearly unconvinced. “The Coalition is run by people who’d sell their own families for profit. You can’t just mix with them like it’s no big deal!”

“I’m not talking about the criminal hubs,” I say, trying to stay calm. “I mean the quiet, isolated places. The ones where no one asks questions. I’m careful, Ileana. I promise.”

“The situation’s a bit more complicated than that,” I explain as we walk toward the SIL on the landing platform.

“There are species like the Polarians—fundamentally benevolent. They function more like insect colonies, working for the collective good rather than individual gain. Over time, their empathy has only deepened. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met a Polar who wasn’t a natural do-gooder. ”

She listens quietly, thoughtful.

“On the other end of the spectrum, you’ve got the Venors, or Penubiens. No empathy. No emotional ties, not even to their own families. And unfortunately, they’re not the only ones like that.”

“Have you met any?” she asks, her voice tight with concern .

“Yeah. And I’m extremely cautious around them. But the truth is, most species—including humans—fall somewhere in between. Not all good, not all bad.”

As soon as I say it, I regret the example. She’s human. That might’ve come off as insulting.

But she surprises me. “I know what you mean,” she says, meeting my eyes. “My parents were the kindest people I’ve ever known. My sister too—she never let bitterness take over, even though she had every reason to. Henri, though… he’s the opposite. Pure cruelty, hidden behind a charming face.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. That could’ve gone very wrong. She’s seen the best and worst of her kind—and she understood what I meant.

We step onto the ship, and she gives me a look. One that says she’s still watching me closely.

“SILMAR, unlocks the hidden compartment.”

Normally, I deactivate the most advanced version of SILMAR whenever I leave the ship—except here on MyFaS. Here, I keep her fully alert. There are no planetary security systems, and if anything ever goes wrong, SIL is still our best shot at getting out fast.

A trapdoor slides open from the floor in the main cabin. Ileana stares at it, wide-eyed.

“It’s just a hiding spot,” I say casually.

“For your smuggling,” she replies, deadpan.

Right. That’s how it sounds.

“Like I said, for some people, the line between the Confederation and the Coalition isn’t always clear. Sometimes it’s about survival. Sometimes it’s just… opportunity.”

She watches me closely, trying to figure out where I fall on that spectrum.

I lie down and slide the upper half of my body into the compartment. After a moment, I pull out two items.

Her eyes widen when she recognizes parts from a Confederation ship.

“I have to deal with traffickers,” I explain. “To stay alive, I have to play the part. So I make counterfeit parts—based on real blueprints. They look legit, but they’re structurally weak. Unreliable by design.”

She doesn’t say anything at first.

“I mostly trade them for supplies we can’t get on MyFaS. The counterfeits are just a cover. That’s all.”

“I see,” she says quietly.

Well, that went better than expected. I told her I’m kind of an explorer-slash-smuggler, and she didn’t look horrified. Honestly, I’m relieved. She’d already considered joining the Coalition’s remote outposts to offer medical help, so maybe this isn’t such a shock after all.

Ileana’s examining the two parts I pulled from the hidden compartment, turning them over in her hands, probably trying to figure out if they’re real.

“SILMAR, show us the original composition and the one I use.”

Immediately, the right front panel lights up, displaying two side-by-side lists .

The original Confederation composite includes a laminorium component—it stabilizes the structure under stress. My version doesn’t have it, which makes the material brittle and unreliable in extreme conditions, like space.

She nods, clearly impressed.

“Want to see the manufacturing plans too?”

“No, I believe you,” she says. “And I get it. Just… be careful if you ever run into those people again.”

I nod, then lie down next to the trapdoor and slide the two parts back into the hidden compartment. No need to keep them out any longer.