Chapter 8

  Did the noble bleed blue? Or did they bleed red just as us - The grand synapse would have had you believe you were below them and that you must obey Astreas' Grand Order. When did it become their duty to enforce their will instead of Astreas order?

  General Kline First of the Rebellion

  I retrieved the shielded case from the examination platform. The K'thari escort had placed it on Veska-17's desk, between us, like neutral ground. I unsealed the container with deliberate care, extracting first the black box, then the storage chip.

  "This is the raw sensor data from Gavis Station." I placed the black box on the desk's surface. The ablative armor caught the twilight illumination. "Unedited navigational logs, atmospheric composition analysis, energy output measurements. Everything the ship recorded during the encounter."

  Veska-17's upper arms remained motionless behind its thorax. The lower appendages extended, picking up the black box with surprising delicacy. The K'thari rotated it, examining seals and access ports.

  "Gavis Station Authority encryption. Standard civilian-grade shielding." Those compound eyes lifted. "You stole this vessel."

  "Borrowed. During the chaos. Plus, do you care?"

  "No." Veska-17 set down the black box and picked up the storage chip. "And this?"

  "Edited footage. Visual confirmation of what destroyed the station. I trimmed it for transmission purposes, but the core data is intact."

  The Iron Mediator inserted the chip into a reader built into the desk. A holographic display materialized above the surface, projecting the recording in miniature. Marekthos emerged from the void, wings spreading. The shockwave's expansion rendered in ghostly blue light. The creature is turning. The beam weapon is firing.

  Veska-17 watched without visible reaction. Its mandibles remained still. When the footage ended, it replayed the sequence. Then again. Four complete viewings before the K'thari spoke.

  "You understand what you're showing me." Not a question. "The Scourge of Astraea. Artazul the Great One. The mythological terror both major powers claim destroyed their homeworlds millennia ago."

  "I understand it destroyed eighty thousand people three days ago."

  "Convenient timing." Veska-17 deactivated the hologram. "You're a fugitive wanted by three governments. You appear with footage of an ancient myth coincidentally attacking the neutral station where you were being transferred. The Lumeri specialize in fabricated evidence. The Arkai have sophisticated simulation technology. Even Strurteran Applied Sorcery could generate convincing illusions given proper ritual structure, magic."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  My jaw clenched. "The black box contains technical data your analysts can verify independently. Energy signatures don't lie. Neither do spectral analysis readings or gravitational distortion measurements. Neither do all the information that would soon come out of the destroyed station. "

  "Perhaps." Two of Veska-17's hands folded together, an unsettlingly human gesture. "Or perhaps you're delivering exactly the kind of destabilizing misinformation the Lumeri paid you to spread. Fear of mythological judgment, Panic among the factions. Resources diverted from the civil war to hunt phantoms, not real monsters."

  "I watched it kill thousands."

  "You claim you watched." Veska-17 leaned forward. "Tell me, Loremikan. Why did Marekthos appear at Gavis Station specifically? What drew an extinction-level entity to a minor neutral hub in contested space?"

  The question landed like a physical blow. I felt the psychic scar throb where the creature had marked me. The connection lingered still, faint pressure at consciousness's edge.

  "I don't know." A bitter feeling welled up from my chest.

  "Unsatisfying answer." The K'thari's mandibles clicked twice. "You were present. You survived when eighty thousand others died. Your vessel shows a massive energy drain, consistent with the deployment of shields that shouldn't exist on civilian craft. And now you arrive with convenient evidence, seeking an audience with Grand Magistrate Vorn." Those compound eyes reflected desk lighting in fragmented patterns. "What did you do to summon it?"

  "I did nothing to summon it!," I said in frustration," I was escaping the Lumeri trap."

  "The Lumeri trap you claim was orchestrated during your transfer." Veska-17's tone carried professional skepticism. "Another convenient element. The station authority who facilitated your escape. The K'thari mercenary who warned you. The maintenance worker who gave you access codes. All conveniently positioned to ensure you reach bay nineteen and steal this specific vessel."

  My hands pressed flat against my thighs. "You think I'm an asset."

  "I think you're either an exceptionally valuable asset or an exceptionally dangerous fool." Veska-17 gestured at the evidence. "The Lumeri could have fabricated everything. Programmed you with false memories. Deployed psychic conditioning through their handlers. You could genuinely believe you witnessed Marekthos while actually serving as their unwitting delivery mechanism for sophisticated misinformation."

  "Then analyze the data. Go to the station , follow the trail of destruction!, Prove me wrong!"

  "Oh, I will." The Iron Mediator retrieved both items and placed them in a secure drawer. "But analysis takes time. Days, perhaps weeks, to verify authenticity and rule out manipulation. Meanwhile, three governments want you dead or worse. The Lumeri still consider you an asset worth recovering. And you're sitting in my office, while everyone and their grandmother is after you."

  "I came here to warn Vorn. To push this information through whatever channels exist before that thing returns and destroys another population center."

  "Noble intent." Veska-17's mandibles spread slightly, approximating a smile. "Assuming your intent is genuine, not Lumeri programming. Tell me something, deserter. Why should Grand Magistrate Vorn risk exposing his primary operations hub to an extinction-level threat for the sake of your testimony? What value do you provide that outweighs the danger you represent?"

  I met those compound eyes directly. "Because if Marekthos returns and nobody is prepared, the death toll won't be eighty thousand. It'll be millions. Billions, if it reaches the core worlds. Vorn maintains this anchorage through careful neutrality. That neutrality becomes meaningless when Monstrous judgment arrives to cleanse civilizations."

  "Appealing to pragmatism. Good." Veska-17 stood, its full height impressive despite the species' characteristic hunch. "You'll remain here while I present your evidence to Vorn's analysts. Secure quarters. No communication privileges. Armed escort. Any deviation results in immediate termination."