My Infinite System.

The Drifting Leaf was quieter than it had been in days. The hum of its living walls was low and rhythmic, like the slow breathing of something alive. The glow from the bio-lights cast a soft green over everything, painting the faces around the room in muted tones.

Marc sat alone at the table, one hand wrapped around a steaming cup of something that pretended to be coffee. His jacket hung over the back of the chair, dusted with the last traces of Fresia’s red sand. He hadn’t bothered to clean it. The taste of iron and heat still lingered in his mouth, but his mind was calm. Almost too calm.

Across the room, Lira sat with her uncle, curled up on the padded bench. She’d finally stopped shaking. Evelyn was with them, her voice low, soothing. Silas was dozing against the wall, arms crossed, while Reia typed away at her datapad, her expression unreadable. Vyn sat in the shadows, as always, drinking tea that never seemed to go cold.

Marc took a slow sip from his cup, the bitter liquid grounding him. It was strange, the quiet after violence. He could still hear the dull thud of the guard’s body hitting the transport hull, still feel the weight of the canyon wind on his skin. But it didn’t bother him. It was the same calm that always came after he’d done something necessary.

He didn’t look up when he heard footsteps behind him. He already knew who it was.

Lucian moved with a kind of effortless stillness, like someone who never needed to announce his presence. He stopped just short of the table, arms crossed, his expression difficult to read under the ship’s dim light.

”You did well,” Lucian said simply.

Marc didn’t turn around. ”That your version of a compliment?”

”Don’t get used to it,” Lucian replied, coming around to sit across from him. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. ”But yeah. I like what you did.”

Marc raised an eyebrow. ”You like that I ignored your orders and went off to smash a corporate squad?”

Lucian’s lips twitched, almost a smile. ”I like that you got results. I was going to do the same thing—just in a different way.”

”Let me guess,” Marc said, leaning back. ”Something quieter. Cleaner. Less... me.”

Lucian shrugged. ”You’re not wrong. I would’ve hacked into their systems, traced the command line, and crippled them from the inside.” He paused, his dark eyes glinting faintly in the soft light. ”But you cut straight through it. No wasted motion. Sometimes I forget how simple things can be when you stop thinking like a tactician and start acting like a human being.”

Marc smirked. ”Careful, brother. Sounds like you’re catching feelings.”

”Don’t push it,” Lucian said, but there was no edge in his tone.

For a moment, they sat in silence. The hum of the ship filled the space between them.

Then Lucian said, quietly but clearly, ”Since we’re all acting impulsive lately, I say we go all in.”

Marc glanced at him, intrigued. ”Go on.”

Lucian’s gaze flicked toward Lira, then back to Marc. ”We launch the truth.”

Marc frowned. ”You mean the data?”

”Yes,” Lucian said. ”Omni-Stellar thinks they own the story. They think they can bury what happened on Karys-7. But we have the proof now. We show the universe what really happened. People deserve to know.”

Marc took another sip, thinking. ”You know what’ll happen if we do that, right? We’ll make enemies out of every corporation tied to them. And the Guild won’t help us—they’ll hide behind bureaucracy until it blows over.”

Lucian nodded. ”Then we do it anyway. And if the proper authorities do nothing...” He met Marc’s eyes, voice steady. ”...we take matters into our own hands.”

Across the room, Kaelis stirred from his perch on the chair back, his wings twitching. [Oh, fantastic,] he muttered. [Nothing says stability like an interstellar rebellion led by emotional humans.]

Marc didn’t even glance at him. ”You got a better idea, featherbrain?”

[I have several,] Kaelis said dryly. [All of them involve not painting a bullseye on our ship for every bounty hunter within three systems.]

Lucian ignored him. ”Reia’s already decrypting the last layer of the cube. Once it’s done, we’ll have full logs—sensor readings, comms, time stamps. Everything. Enough to make Omni-Stellar bleed.”

Marc’s grin faded. ”And Lira? You think she’s ready for that? It’s her parents’ work. Their deaths. She’s been running since she stole that cube. You think she wants the whole universe looking at her?”

Lucian leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. ”No. But she doesn’t have to stand in front of the fire. We do.”

Marc let the words hang in the air for a while before saying, ”That’s a hell of a line for someone who doesn’t do speeches.”

Lucian gave him a sidelong look. ”Don’t make me regret saying it.”

Reia’s voice broke through before Marc could reply. ”It’s ready.”

Everyone turned toward her. She stood, datapad in hand, the faint light from its screen reflecting in her pale eyes. ”The final encryption layer is down. I’ve compiled the data into an upload-ready packet. All we need is a relay strong enough to broadcast it beyond the system.”

Silas rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ”So, like... a big antenna?”

Reia gave him a look that could’ve frozen metal. ”Yes. A very big antenna.”

Evelyn frowned. ”That’ll draw attention.”

”It’ll draw attention either way,” Lucian said, standing up. ”We just have to control the timing.”

Vyn’s voice drifted from the corner. ”Control is a fragile illusion. Once this truth is released, it’ll spread beyond us. You can’t unmake that.”

Lucian met her gaze. ”I don’t intend to.”

He turned back to Reia. ”How soon can we move?”

”Two hours,” she said, already transferring data. ”There’s a planetary relay on the far side of Varros’s third moon. Abandoned, but the hardware’s still operational. If we boost the signal through our ship’s main core, it’ll transmit wideband across six sectors.”

”Two hours,” Lucian repeated. ”Good.”

Marc finished his drink and stood up, rolling his shoulders. ”Guess we’re starting a war tonight.”

Kaelis flared his wings and muttered, [Wonderful. I always wanted to be vaporized over breakfast.]

Silas grinned faintly. ”Could be worse. At least this time, we’re not fighting in a sewer.”

Evelyn shot him a look. ”Yet.”

Marc moved toward the door. ”I’ll prep the jump. Someone tell the kid what we’re doing.”

Lira looked up as he passed her. ”You’re... you’re really going to tell everyone?”

Marc crouched beside her, his voice softer than usual. ”Your parents tried to warn people, right? They died because they were silenced. If we don’t speak up now, it happens again—to someone else. You understand?”

Lira nodded slowly. ”Yes.”

Midas put an arm around her, his expression grim but proud. ”Then do it. For them.”