I hold his gaze, feeling the hidden trigger sequence sitting inside my sleeve comp like a live wire against my wrist. My ship accepted the first instruction. The diagnostic signal is buried beneath damaged telemetry now, quiet and patient. If Pally scans the right band, he will see my signature folded into the noise. If Dux is with him, he will probably make some intolerable comment about my handwriting.
I refuse to imagine his voice too clearly.
It hurts.
Throgg steps closer until the projection light cuts sharp lines across his face. “You are manipulating me.”
“Yes.”
The answer lands cleanly.
His eyes narrow with interest rather than anger.
I continue before he can turn that admission into a weapon. “I am manipulating you toward an outcome that benefits both of us. You want my father’s adaptive knowledge. I want my father alive. You want escape architecture. I want access to the only person besides me who can help refine it. The manipulation is not the problem. The quality of it is.”
An officer behind him makes a low sound of disbelief.
Throgg lifts a hand without looking away from me.
The room quiets.
“You have remarkable nerve,” he says.
“So I have been told.”
“By the Vakutan?”
My throat tightens, and I answer with visible annoyance because it is easier to survive than grief. “Among others.”
“You still think he lives.”
“I think killing him was sloppy.”
That makes Throgg’s gaze cool. “I am seldom sloppy.”
“Then consider it an aspirational failure.”
A Reaper officer steps toward me. Throgg’s hand rises again, and the officer stops.
“You bait me with Palindrome Larson,” Throgg says. “You insult my judgment. You admit manipulation. You ask for access to the prize before I decide whether to let him breathe.”
“I also improved your drive stability, identified your pursuit gap, and produced the first actionable route to a target you have failed to capture for years.”
“There is the knife.”
“There are several.”
“Yes,” he says. “I am beginning to see that.”
He turns back to the map. “Set course for the outer Thorn Shelf. Maintain weapons discipline until I order otherwise. Prepare containment nets and boarding teams. Increase monitoring on Zenos movement and route variance.”
A cold pulse of triumph moves through me.
Throgg has taken the bait.
Now I have to make sure it bites everyone in the correct order.
“Commander,” one officer says, “if Larson’s projection places us near active Zenos traffic, the vessel may face swarm engagement.”
