Page 37 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

“Noviosk was in his office,” she says. “He got a call from someone named… Unshakable? Something like that.”

“Unshakable?” I ask, my pulse quickening.

“Yeah, that’s it. He told her to wait at his place while he handled the sale here. Said he’d join her later to finalize their deal—something about Confederation plans.”

My heart slams in my chest. That’s it. That’s the confirmation I’ve been chasing for months.

That bastard is here. Tonight.

“We have to get out of here,” I say, already planning. “We need to call in the task force. Now. ”

I lend Ileana my jacket until someone can bring her something to wear. She lies down on the bed, her back to the door, silent but alert.

About half an hour later, the two guards return with two large steaming bowls and a change of clothes for her. I decide to try my luck again.

“Are you sure there’s no way to remove that collar around her neck?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.

The guard eyes me suspiciously. “Why does it bother you so much? It’s to keep her from running off or talking too much.”

“Have you ever tried strangling someone with one of those things?” I reply. “Not to mention, I don’t want to risk getting shocked.”

I keep a straight face, even as I hear Ileana hiccup softly behind me.

“I’m sorry,” the guard says, “but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Noviosk’s out of town until noon. He’s entertaining guests on his private island.”

Frustration burns in my chest. I need to get that thing off her. Now.

“That’s not what we agreed to,” I snap. “I was supposed to enjoy my purchase without restrictions.”

“You will,” the guard says sharply. “Tomorrow.”

I flip him off. I think that gets the message across.

***

Outside, night has just fallen. According to the plan, Wingo will trigger the diversion in less than six hours—at daybreak on Vagantu .

We eat the stew. It’s surprisingly good, though I have no idea what’s in it. Some kind of local fish, maybe, cooked with spices and vegetables.

We speak in hushed tones, going over my role in the Confederation—and Akifumi in particular.

After we eat, I spread out the contents of my bag on the bed. A compass. A water purifier. A long-range light beam. The special felt-tip. A flask of niank oil. Nothing that looks remotely like a weapon—I knew anything suspicious would’ve been confiscated right away.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing here that can help us get rid of that damn collar.

I examine it closely while she watches me, nervous.

“Can you remove it?” she asks.

“No. There’s a safety mechanism. Even if I had a blade or something to cut it, it’s rigged with sensors.”

“So what do we do?”

“We assume it won’t work underwater. That’s the only idea I’ve got.”

“Underwater?” she echoes, confused.

She points out that this planet is basically covered in water. I nod. I’ve noticed a small island nearby—or more like a rocky outcrop. I think I can find it with the compass. It’s about two miles from here.

“But Pherebos… are you sure you can make it? That’s a long swim for someone who’s afraid of the water.”

“My Faksaya,” I say softly, “Asgarne is an island planet. I swam before I could walk, remember? I’m completely at home in the water—or at least, I used to be. I can handle the distance. I can even pull you with me… in theory.”

“Then why…?”

“I get it,” I say. “You’re trying to make sense of something that’s not logical. It’s psychological.”

I take a breath.

“My home planet is an ocean world. After years away, my sister Silmarwen came back to our village with her Dedicated Soul—an Erian, one of the winged people. They used Confederation tech to predict a major disaster and warned us to evacuate. We’d lived on those atolls forever.

We didn’t believe them. I didn’t believe them.

I was the leader. I thought I had everything under control. I downplayed it.”

I pause, the memory tightening in my chest.

“And then it happened. Just like they said. The catastrophe hit. Everyone died. My mother. My family. All of them. Except me.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she says softly, trying to comfort me.

But I can tell she’s struggling to find the right words. “So… the name of your ship and its AI—it comes from your missing sister?”

“It’s a tribute to her, yes. My beloved sister. But she’s not missing. She’s alive. She and her Dedicated Soul live on Eris—his homeworld.”

“I’m glad she made it,” Ileana says. “But… how did you survive?”

I gasp, the memory hitting me like a wave of ice. A cold shiver runs down my spine. My breath shortens, sharp and uneven .

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “Forget I asked. I can see how much it hurts.”

“No,” I say, steadying myself. “You have a right to know. Especially with what we’re about to face tomorrow. The truth is… I didn’t escape unscathed.”

I pause, then continue, voice low.

“A scorching wind swept across the atolls, killing everything in its path. At the time, I was bathing in a giant flower—one of those with thick, waxy petals. When I got the emergency signal, I buried myself under as many petals as I could.”

“That’s how you survived,” she whispers, understanding dawning in her eyes.

I nod. “Exactly. Everyone else died instantly. I was trapped in that boiling water for hours. I prayed for death to come and end the pain. That’s why I struggle to let go now. My body remembers. Every nerve remembers.”

I pause again, then add, “It was Rymm—Silmarwen’s companion—who came back for me. He carried me to a regeneration chamber.”

“That’s why there’s no trace of it left,” she says gently. “I’m glad you didn’t die that day.”

“The chamber healed my body,” I say. “But my soul… my soul is still broken.”

She looks at me with quiet understanding. “Now I get why you told Noviosk no one was waiting for you on Asgarne. They’re all gone.”

“My family died. So did many others. But not all. Some atolls were spared. I would never betray my people—not for anything. Not for the Coalition’s greed.”

I glance at her, then soften my voice.

“Now get some sleep. You need rest before we leave.”

My voice is hoarse from the pain. Bringing this up now was a mistake. I need to stay calm—focused. But instead, I’m reliving the worst day of my life, and it’s tearing me apart inside.

And with just a few hours left before our planned escape… the pressure’s building. I can feel it in my chest, tight and unrelenting. I’m stressed. Really stressed.

A few hours later, I’m standing in front of the bay window, scanning the darkness outside. Nothing. No moon tonight. The waves are still, quiet. Too quiet.

I remember reading that underwater predators tend to hunt at night. That’s why I’m planning to leave at sunrise.

I’m not a hundred percent sure this will work—but I’m going to do everything I can to get us out of here. Staying in Noviosk’s hands?

That’s a death sentence.