The Unity's engines hummed at a steady rhythm, echoing through the long corridors like a heartbeat. Elara stood alone at the viewing deck, one hand pressed against the glass as the endless sprawl of stars stretched before her. Behind her, the ship was quiet—crew resting, repairs underway, systems recalibrating. For the first time in weeks, there was stillness.
And she didn't trust it.
Since the encounter with the artifact and the near-fracture of her alliance with Nova, Elara had been waiting for the next crisis, the next secret, the next betrayal. But the silence held, serene and unbroken, and it made her feel more exposed than any battle had.
"Captain," Nova's voice came soft over the comm. "There's a transmission. Local signal. Just came through."
Elara's heart stuttered. "Source?"
"It's… a civilian frequency. Earth-based code structure. But it's not from Earth."
That got her moving. Within minutes, she was on the bridge, Nova already patching the message through. The screen flickered with static. No image—just sound.
Then a voice.
Familiar.
"This is Commander Aderyn Calix of the Lyra Ascending. If anyone can hear this… Elara, if you can hear this… I know what happened. And I think I can fix it."
The room tilted. Elara gripped the edge of the console as the world narrowed to the sound of that voice—one she hadn't heard since the last days of the Jupiter Rebellion. Aderyn. Her mentor. Her once-closest friend. And the one who'd left without saying goodbye.
Nova's eyes met hers across the console, unreadable. "Should I trace the signal?"
"Yes." Her voice came out thin. "Immediately."
They worked in silence, Elara's mind spinning. The Lyra Ascending was presumed lost—two years ago. Its crew, scattered or gone. Aderyn had vanished with it. She'd been the one who taught Elara to lead, to question, to survive. And also the one who taught her how it felt to be left behind.
The trace completed. The signal had bounced across a relay hidden inside the Kuiper Belt—only a few days out from their position.
Aderyn was close.
But so was danger. Nothing about this felt simple.
You always do this, she thought. Show up when everything's on fire, and toss a match of your own.
She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until Nova said quietly, "Do you trust her?"
Elara hesitated. "Once. I don't know anymore."
Nova nodded, turning back to the navigation controls. "Then we'll find out together."
The words hung in the air, more than professional. More than just an agreement. Elara's chest tightened—not from fear, but something slower, deeper.
She looked at Nova, her circuits faintly glowing in the soft light, her gaze focused and calm, and she wondered when admiration had turned into something more dangerous. Something gentler.
"Set a course," Elara said. "Let's see what ghosts look like in the light."