Page 226 of Reaper Said Mine

“They will return.”

“Yes.”

“And when they do?”

“We will still be here because we did not chase bait into the dark.”

Skahar’s cane taps once.

Vakka sends the order before Theryki can object.

The next hour becomes a blur of containment. Fire suppression in Dock Nine. Hull patching near Sector Twelve. Prisoner transfer from civilian storage. Evacuation of two refugee barracks compromised by shock damage. Coalition med teams requesting more access. My own med-bay chiefs cursing them while accepting supplies. Reaper warriors hauling debris beside Alzhon nurses, human engineers, Grolgath mechanics, and one Pi’Rell teacher who refuses to leave the shelter until every child has a blanket and water.

Guyver survives.

Damaged.

Bleeding.

Alive.

When the final attack signatures withdraw beyond sensor range, no one cheers. Cheers belong to victories. This is endurance, and endurance is too tired for theater.

I stand at the command table while casualty estimates settle into confirmed names.

Twenty-three dead on Guyver.

Forty-eight critically injured.

Three missing in sealed compartments still too unstable to open.

One warrior dead repelling boarders.

Six civilians dead in the first strike.

Four children among the injured, all alive.

Alive.

That word nearly drops me to my knees.

I remain standing.

Skahar approaches after the room has shifted into recovery operations. “You made a decision.”

“I made many.”

“You know which one I mean.”

I do.

I look at the map, now crowded with civilian shelter markers, compromised sectors, damaged docks, Coalition assets, Reaper patrols, and threat vectors. The difficult decision has been forming all day, maybe longer. Since Rekk. Since Zune. Since Ursa left for Earth carrying truth because I had carried rage too long.

“Our outer holdings cannot withstand this tempo,” I say.

Skahar’s face tightens.

I force the rest out. “We pull civilians inward. All of them. Every dependent, every refugee, every noncombatant from the vulnerable holds and lanes. We abandon nonessential salvage points, light the beacons ourselves, and make the enemy choose between empty metal and fortified shelters.”