Page 268 of Reaper Said Mine

Krell nearly laughs, and the sound does more for the room than any speech could.

Another message from Ursa arrives minutes later.

Boarding risk ahead. Contingencies active. I have Rana. Bellamy says she is ours-ish. I am being inconvenient.

I read the words, and despite terror, my mouth pulls into something almost like a smile.

Of course she is.

“Lord?” Krell asks softly.

“She lives,” I say.

The command center seems to inhale.

Not because they all love her. Some do. Some fear her. Some simply understand that she has become a weapon pointed at the lies trying to crush us. But every being in that room knows what she is to me, and every being in that room has seen what holding myself still costs.

Skahar taps his cane once. “Then continue deserving her trouble.”

I look at him.

He looks back without mercy.

Good.

Mercy would undo me.

I turn to the map as the crisis peaks around the Trask Fold. Alliance white icons enter the outer dispute zone. Coalition blue shields hold over green civilian corridors. Reaper red escorts stay tight around evacuation lines. Combine gray probes circle, waiting for the first fool to fire out of pride.

I will not be that fool.

Not today.

“Open public channel,” I say.

Krell looks up. “To whom?”

“All of them.”

Vakka’s brows lift. “Alliance, Coalition, neutral feeds, Combine if they are skulking in the walls?”

“Yes.”

Skahar’s mouth curves. “This should be either wise or entertaining.”

The channel opens.

My image appears on the command center’s public broadcast node. I stand beneath red light with smoke on my armor, casualty packets beside my hand, and the map of civilian corridors burning behind me.

“This is Gnash of Guyver Station,” I say, letting my voice carry the weight my people expect without the rage my enemies desire. “All ships entering the Trask Fold will see the marked civilian evacuation lanes now attached to this transmission. Reaper escorts are under orders to defend civilians and hold formation. Coalition shields are positioned for protection, not advance. Any vessel that fires into those lanes will do so before the eyes of every feed receiving this signal.”

I pause only long enough to let the map cycle.

“I will not chase bait away from children. I will not spend refugees to flatter pride. I will not let the Combine, the Alliance, the Coalition, or any captain drunk on old songs decide that civilians are useful sacrifices. If you came to protect life, hold your fire. If you came for anything else, the galaxy will know.”

The channel remains open for another second.

Then I cut it.