The silence in the Ghost’s secondary comms suite was a taut wire, stretched to its breaking point. Kaira sat alone, the only light coming from the holographic display floating before her. On it was a face she hadn't seen in months, a face carved from the same cold, elegant marble as her own. Her mother, Matriarch Elara Telnor. The background was not the familiar opulence of their family estate on Nexus Prime, but a stark, sterile chamber that could only be the heart of the Fractured Crown’s power.
“Kaira,” her mother’s voice was exactly as she remembered, calm, measured, and utterly devoid of warmth. It was the voice that had dictated her curriculum, her social engagements, her entire life. “This rebellion has gone on long enough. You look… weathered.”
Kaira said nothing. Her hands were
