Just done.
I pull my compad from inside my jacket, unlock it, and open the document I drafted in the archive level three hours ago when my hands were still shaking from the hearing.
Formal resignation.
I had written it because some instinct in me already knew exactly how this building would try to close around me once the truth was too public to suppress.
I hold the compad out between us so he can see the header.
His eyes flick down.
Then up.
I smile, and there is nothing nice in it.
“You’re late,” I say.
Before he can answer, I hit submit.
The tribunal network pings acceptance almost instantly. There’s a soft confirmation tone—small, absurdly polite. The screen flashes:
RESIGNATION RECEIVED — SELENE ARDENT
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY
Veridan’s face goes blank in the way only highly trained administrators can manage when something has slipped out of their control in public.
“You cannot circumvent review by resignation,” he says.
“Maybe not,” I reply. “But I can refuse to let you call it discipline when it’s panic.”
Mirov makes a sound suspiciously close to approval.
Veridan’s aides are pretending not to exist.
I lower the compad. My heartbeat is so loud it almost drowns out the room.
“I entered this institution because I believed procedure could protect truth,” I say, and now I am no longer speaking just to him, because enough people are listening that pretending otherwise would be stupid. “What I found was a machine that protected itself first.”
Veridan’s jaw tightens. “That is an irresponsible characterization.”
“No,” I say. “It’s my exit interview.”
One of the nearby reporters actually chokes trying not to laugh.
He leans in slightly. “Be careful, Ardent.”
I meet his eyes. “That ship crashed into Kirell years ago.”
For the first time, he has nothing ready.
Good.
I step around him.
The chamber floor seems strangely unstable, though I know it isn’t. Adrenaline does that—makes you feel like gravity has become a rumor. The air is hot and overused. Broadcast lightssting my eyes now that the verdict is done and the body is noticing things again. Somewhere to my right, two senators are arguing so viciously that security is drifting closer under the pretense of crowd management.
I move toward the side aisle.
