Page 63 of The Warlord's Secret Heir

“You disappear into the med tent a lot. Alone. You work when nobody’s watching. But you don’t talk to the crew. Not really.”

I stop walking. Turn. “You spying on me?”

“I’m watching out for Red Eye.”

A threat. Wrapped in loyalty. The deadliest kind.

I smile sweetly. “You think I’m Alliance?”

“I think you’ve got secrets.”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

His hand drifts to his blade.

I act fast.

Yank the voltage stim patch from my pocket, slam it into his chestplate, and trigger the pulse. His whole rig spasms, shorting out—lights flicker, heat coils spike, and his auto-holster jams. His mouth opens in a snarl, but he’s locked up for two seconds too long.

I slap a cooling patch over his left bicep and lean in. “Next time you wanna flirt, just say so.”

The heat-surge fades. The rest of the patrol stares, jaws slack. Brannik coughs. Wipes his mouth. Grins like a man who just lost a bet.

“Damn,” someone mutters. “She’s got tech hands.”

I wink. “I’m useful.”

That night, I stay back in Kyldak’s quarters, pretending to rest. I’m not resting.

I’ve rerouted the makeshift med rig to an uplink boost tower—one Kyldak thought was beyond salvage. It’s not perfect, but it caught a signal. Just one.

A vid.

From Earth.

I hit play.

Kel fills the tiny screen—hair sticking up in six different directions, his eyes sleepy, his voice slurred with baby logic.“Mommy... I made a rocket with my legos. It broke... but I fixed it! And I drank the blue juice. Not the green one. The green one is yucky. Love you.”

Then he laughs.

The sound is so pure it knocks the air out of me. He’s articulate for his age.

I curl around the screen like I can climb into it. My fingers press over the edge like I could reach through. Just one more second. Just one more smile.

“What is that?”

Kyldak’s voice cuts through me like a blade.

I turn too fast. The rig sparks as I shove the screen off.

“It’s—just a training tape. A medical archive. Pediatric subject. Nothing important.”

He steps closer. “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

I shrug. “Old case. Family let me keep the feed for emotional regrowth analysis.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time.