Page 269 of Reaper Said Mine

The room is very quiet.

Vakka breaks first. “That was better than diaper duty.”

Skahar nods. “Less vivid, perhaps.”

Krell stares at the public feed numbers climbing. “Neutral channels are rebroadcasting.”

“Good.”

Theryki’s private line opens. Her expression appears composed, but something like respect glints beneath it. “You have made it more difficult for everyone to fire.”

“That was the purpose.”

“It is also more difficult for them to pretend they did not hear you.”

“That was Ursa’s purpose.”

Her gaze sharpens. “You are learning from her.”

“Yes,” I say.

The admission costs nothing.

That surprises me.

Hours ago, maybe days ago, I might have dressed it in a joke or a threat. Now it sits plainly in the room. Ursa sees stories before I see them. She sees how language becomes a weapon, how witnesses become shields, how truth can force cowards to blink before they shoot. I do not need to be less because she sees farther. I need to be wise enough to look where she points.

The Trask Fold holds.

For now.

Alliance forward elements slow outside the marked civilian lanes. Coalition shields remain cold. Combine probes scatter when public channels begin identifying their vectors. No one retreats fully, and no one admits fear, but for one precious stretch of time, no one fires.

The command center exhales into motion.

Not victory.

Survival.

I take the four children’s casualty packet and place it at the center of the table, where I cannot ignore it.

Then I look at every officer in the pit.

“From now on, all strategic priorities follow this order,” I say. “Civilian survival first. Evacuation corridors second. Medical access third. Defensive integrity fourth. Retaliation only when it serves one of the first four.”

Vakka nods immediately.

Krell records it.

Skahar’s old face remains unreadable, but his cane taps once against the deck.

I continue, “If any captain wants revenge, they may file a request after every child in our territory has food, air, and shelter. I expect the waiting period to improve their judgment.”

This time, several officers laugh.

A small sound.

Tired.