“Confirmed,” it responds. “Optimal countermeasure: evasive maneuver followed by?—”
“No,” I cut in, my voice flattening. “No evasive patterns. No wide engagement.”
“Clarify intent.”
“Precision entry,” I say.
The system hesitates, just enough to register the deviation from standard protocol.
“High-risk,” it says.
“Yes,” I reply.
The estate’s outer defenses flare as I close distance, the first volley charging, energy building in sharp pulses that ripple outward like a warning.
“Incoming fire,” the system says.
“I know,” I answer, my hands tightening slightly on the controls as I hold course just long enough?—
Then shift.
Not away.
Through.
The first blast streaks past the hull, close enough that the heat flashes across the viewport in a brief distortion, and I angle the vessel downward, cutting across their targeting solution instead of avoiding it entirely.
“Shield integrity?—”
“Hold it,” I snap.
The second volley comes faster, tighter, their systems adjusting, learning, but I’m already inside their outer arc before they can correct fully, the ship shuddering as residual energy grazes the shielding.
“Impact registered,” the system reports.
“Minimal,” I reply.
“Structural strain increasing.”
“I’m aware.”
The estate fills the viewport now, the landing platforms, the layered architecture, the pathways I already mapped from her broadcast.
“She’s inside,” I murmur.
“Signal confirmed within central structure,” the system replies.
Good.
That’s all I need.
“Disable the grid,” I say.
“Specify method.”
I narrow my focus, isolating the nodes, the pattern, the rhythm of their power distribution.
“Target relay points,” I say. “Sequential disruption. No cascade failure.”
