Contradiction.
Layered.
Persistent.
“Directive conflict detected,” the system says. “Multiple command overrides issued simultaneously.”
“From who?” I ask.
“Source identifiers inconsistent.”
Of course they are.
“They’re stepping on each other,” I murmur.
“Yes,” Stacy says. “Because no one wants to be the one who commits to the wrong version of events.”
“And your broadcast gave them too many versions,” I say.
“It gave them the truth,” she replies.
“Truth isn’t what they’re reacting to,” I counter.
“No,” she agrees. “Uncertainty is.”
That lands deeper.
Because uncertainty isn’t something you fight.
It’s something that spreads.
I lean back slightly in the pilot’s seat, my claws resting lightly against the controls, not gripping, not forcing, just… holding position.
“Fleet status,” I say.
The response comes immediately, this time from Vihl over open comms, his voice cutting through the layered noise with familiar clarity.
“Still in defensive formation,” Vihl reports. I can hear movement behind him. “They haven’t engaged. Not even probing shots.”
“They’re waiting,” I say.
“Yeah,” he replies. “And I don’t like it.”
“You shouldn’t,” I answer.
A pause follows, not empty, but filled with calculation.
“You did something,” Vihl says, his tone shifting slightly. “This isn’t just hesitation. This is… structural.”
I glance briefly at Stacy again.
“She did,” I reply.
There’s a moment of silence on the other end.
“…Of course she did,” Vihl mutters.
“Status on trade channels?” I ask.
