Drax’s voice stays steady. “Subpoenas have been issued for Admiral Caedrin Vol’s classified directives, including casualty modeling drafts and authorization signature chains. The Oversight Panel will review those materials under statutory mandate.”
The room explodes again with questions.
“Is Vol cooperating?”
“Is he under arrest?”
“Did the Senate know?”
“Will the Coalition retaliate?”
Drax raises her hand once more, and the noise compresses.
“Coalition fleets have paused defensive mobilization pending the outcome of independent review,” she says, and I feel the significance of that statement like a weight settling onto the building’s foundations. “We will not provoke renewed conflict with partial truth.”
For the first time, something like genuine silence hits. Even the drones seem to hover more carefully.
Drax finishes, crisp: “This tribunal will not be a spectacle. It will be a reckoning. That is all.”
She steps back.
The press surges forward anyway, because they’re vultures and the carcass is fresh. Security shifts, holding them at bay. Drax turns sharply and moves toward the side door without looking at anyone. I follow, because that’s what I’m supposed to do, and because if I stay in that room one more second, I might scream.
The side corridor is quieter, but the noise still leaks through the walls like water through cracked stone.
Drax walks fast, heels clicking, and I have to lengthen my stride to keep up.
“You did well,” she says without looking at me.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You didn’t react,” she corrects. “That is doing something.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “They’re going to keep coming.”
“Yes,” she says. “And now they will come with different weapons.”
We reach a secured door. Drax presses her clearance badge, and it opens into a smaller antechamber lined with sound-dampening panels. The air in here smells faintly of adhesive and clean polymer. It’s like stepping into a sealed pocket of quiet.
I sag against the wall for half a second before forcing myself upright again.
Drax turns to face me fully, her expression unreadable. “The Oversight Panel will require your documentation trail. Your anomaly flag, your reconstruction steps, your access logs. Everything.”
“Fine,” I say, too quickly.
Her gaze sharpens. “Not fine. Dangerous. You will be scrutinized.”
“I’m already being scrutinized,” I snap, then immediately clamp down on my tone. “Sorry. I just— I know.”
Drax’s eyes hold mine. “You also need to understand: the panel’s authority expands the case, but it also delays it. Sentencing rescheduled means Varos remains in limbo.”
My chest tightens again at his name. “How long?”
“Long enough for Vol’s directives to be compelled,” she says. “Long enough for Senate factions to regroup and attempt to control the narrative again.”
“And long enough for someone to… make evidence disappear,” I say, my voice low.
Drax doesn’t deny it. “Yes.”
