Aetherveil remained idle in front of the gateway hoping Psionus would return through. She held her breath for the outlines of figures breaking through the brilliant pool of light.
Sentinels emerged, followed by Lilyon. Aetherveil felt a deep, internal agony flame broiling her heart.
“Lilyon,” she whispered.
“What happened in there?“ Lilyon asked. “Where is Psionus?“
“He—I don't—” Aetheveil stammered. She retreated back to her shuttle.
Lilyon stumbled as she tried to chase after her.
“Aetherveil! Don't walk away from me!“ she screamed. “What happened to Psionus?“
Aetherveil's head sank. She covered her ears to block out Lilyon's voice as she picked up the pace, panting as she recalled her last vision of Psionus before getting pulled from the construct.
“What did you do?“ Aetherveil muttered to herself.
Her head swung back around as she approached the shuttle's ramp, stealing one last look of Lilyon before boarding. She was pacing back and forth in front of the gateway while the Sentinels exchanged looks. They seemed uncertain about how to respond.
Aetherveil boarded her shuttle, sitting down in the copilot's seat. She looked down at the console. The display flickered.
She pounded on the console with her fists—the metal and glass groaning and crunching with every powerful blow. Smoke started seeping out of the panels as the instrument screens cracked and shattered.
“Commander?“ the pilot asked softly, having entered the ship unnoticed.
“Take me back to the Veilbreaker, Captain.“ she ordered.
He saluted. “Yes, ma'am.“
>>>>>***********************<<<<<
The mood on Kalvos Prime was darker than ever before. The overwhelming cost of recapturing the planet and battling Datashade had taken its toll on Aetherveil. She sat in her quarters, the faces of the Sentinels appearing as apparitions within her vision like floaters. The whispers flooded her mind while her eyes mapped the dark stains on the wall ahead of her.
“You're ready.“
“We can make your pain go away.“
“Enough!“ she shouted, whipping her chair into the wall.
Walking through the corridors, she saw the faces of the crews manning their posts. They were covered in soot, exhausted by the months of conflict. She stopped at the mess hall—a group of coalition soldiers seemed aggravated. One pointed his finger at another, inches from his face. The other jumped over the table, tackling him.
“A force the Nexus can't ignore.“
The voices roared with laughter.
“It's not them you have to worry about,“ she whispered, smirking.
She crossed through the central junction. That's where most spent their time while off duty. Makeshift tables were lining the spaces between passageways. Groups of Sentinels and coalition soldiers were inspecting their weapons, others were replacing failing components in their armor. The once shimmering power armor of the Sentinels were now dull and worn—a patchwork of plating recovered from the bodies of their fallen.
“You can't keep this up forever, Aetherveil.“
Lilyon was in the command center reviewing intelligence reports as she walked in. She didn't look at Aetherveil.
“There are reports of negotiations between members of the coalition and the Nexus,” Lilyon said. “They must believe the price of this war is too great.“
Aetherveil pivoted her head toward her, narrowing her eyes.
“It's too late to stop now. We already paid it,“ Aetherveil said.
Lilyon turned to face Aetherveil, pressing her finger into her shoulder.
“Who are you to decide what this war is worth?“ she snapped. “Psionus—”
Aetherveil's eyes briefly erupted with orange light.
“We need to address this,” Aetherveil said. “I'll decide when it's over. Not you and certainly not them.“
Lilyon shook her head slowly and scoffed as she spun around and marched out of the room.
The voices laughed and mocked as Aetherveil stared at her reflection in the windows of the command room.
Her hands squeezed the railing tightly, leaving imprints in the metal.
“You can't hide from us forever. You're broken. Just give up.“
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“I decide when this ends,” she growled.
>>>>>***********************<<<<<
Targus III was a barren and arid world. The planet had remained free of Nexus control largely because of its inhospitable terrain and the strategic tunnels that ran beneath its surface. The council was held in a chamber deep beneath the planet’s surface. There were no banners or symbols of authority—only a single rectangular table.
Aetherveil stood at the head of the table.
“You're in no position to keep the coalition together. You couldn't even keep Lilyon at your side.“
Thalor was the first to speak.
“We’ve fought alongside you, Aetherveil,” he said. “But we have wasted too many lives on your crumbling campaign.“
A bitter chuckle slipped from Aetherveil's smirking lips.
“Fought alongside me?“ she repeated. “You? The only one to abstain from joining me? You promised resources, but provided nothing.“
Thalor adjusted his posture, resting his clenched hands on the table.
“I still stand by my decision,” he argued. “If I gave you what you wanted, Eldara would be in the same position as everyone at this table.“
Murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the chamber.
“We can’t keep doing this”, another leader added. “We’ve lost too much already. How do we even know if our victories matter?”
Aetherveil's gaze shot over to the speaker.
“They have to matter!“ Aetherveil shouted.
She walked over to him, almost running—her face inches from his.
“People died for those victories. My people. Your people. They count for something,“ she said through clenched teeth.
“Millions of our people have died, and we still can't go back home,“ someone else said.
Aetherveil heard the whispers around the table. “What has she lost? She still has a home to go back to.“
“Yes, Aetherveil. What have you lost?“
“What do any of you know about what I have lost?“ Aetherveil asked, shouting.
The chamber went silent.
Aetherveil turned around and took a few steps. She hesitated a moment before turning back around.
“All of you are cowards!“ she shouted, her finger sweeping past everyone at the table. “You want to save your worlds, but you're not willing to fight for them!“
“If you want a future, you have to earn it,” she said, but softer.
Her chest rose and fell as she looked across the table. She searched for someone, anyone, to rise to meet her.
No one did.
“No matter who dies for it,” she said.
“You don't believe that, Aetherveil. You'd see the galaxy burn before watching Lilyon die, too.“
Arros exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t just walk away,” he said. “We've come too far.”
He looked at the members, searching for support. Nobody met his eyes.
“This isn't about saving the galaxy,” Thalor said. “It’s about saving you.”
“We have defeated Glitchar. We have defeated Datashade. We sent Cryptorax into hiding. The Tyrant is vulnerable. He is desperate,” Aetherveil said, eyes shifting between different members of the council as she spoke.
The voices roared with laughter.
“Desperate? You have truly went mad.“
“We have heard enough,” Thalor said. “You speak of sacrifice, but all I see is a leader who is willing to waste lives to feed her ego.“
“This is your great alliance? A table of traitors and cowards?“
She slammed her hands on the table, leaning forward, her fiery gaze sweeping across the room.
“Do you think the Nexus will stop if we retreat? They won’t negotiate. They won’t show mercy. They will take everything—your homes, your people, your lives.”
Aetherveil straightened, her presence towering over the chamber.
“You want to walk away? Fine. The Nexus will be there to conquer what little remains of your precious worlds,” she said. “When that happens, I won't come to save you.”
“If we stay? If we follow you, what guarantees do you offer us?” someone asked.
Aetherveil’s lips twisted into a bitter smile.
“Guarantees? If we fall apart now, I guarantee your destruction.”
One by one, the leaders lowered their heads. Without waiting for further debate, Aetherveil turned her back on the table.
“She threatens us when she should be leading us,” Thalor said. “Is that someone we should trust with our armies?”
She left the chamber, her footsteps fading into the tunnels. Behind her, murmurs of uncertainty and guilt began to ripple through the room, but no one dared call her back.
After a long silence, Thalor leaned back in his chair, watching the tunnel where she had disappeared.
“I hope all of you see who she really is,” Thalor said. “All she wants is power.“
Coran nodded.
“She is putting our people between the Nexus and her world,” he said.
“Thalor the oppressor,” Castle said.
Thalor’s gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing.
“We only tolerate your shit because of what you bring to the table,” Castle continued, standing—adjusting his uniform. “Which has been little.”
Castle turned, giving a final glance to the table before striding toward the exit.
“You think walking away makes you safe?” he asked. “You think cowering behind Thalor will keep you alive?”
He shook his head.
“You can manipulate this council,” he said over his shoulder. “But you can’t manipulate me.”
“What do we do now?” one of the council members asked—a smile spreading across Thalor's face.
>>>>>***********************<<<<<
In Psionus’s quarters, Lilyon sifted through his belongings. The room was quiet. She pulled a small item from his locker, her hands trembling slightly.
Castle walked in, looking around the quarters as if it were an inspection.
“What are you doing here?“ she asked.
“I guess you didn't know about the meeting,“ he said, inspecting the shelf nearest to the door. “I thought you were Aetherveil's number two.“
“Aetherveil doesn't have a 'number two',” she said, slamming Psionus's locker shut.
Crossing the room, she sank onto the edge of Psionus's bed.
“Psionus and I are sworn advisors to her. It's a tradition back home. There's no honor greater than to be of service to her,” she said. “At least, that's what we're raised believing.“
Castle sat next to Lilyon, maintaining eye contact with her.
“There were others?“ He asked.
Lilyon looked down at her feet. “There were many others. Our lifespan is no different than yours.“
She turned her head slightly toward Castle.
“They say we're all created from others like her—that the first of us were brought here thousands of years ago from another galaxy,“ she said.
“Brought here by who?“ Castle asked.
“We call them the Architects,” she replied. “We don't know much about them other than the relics they had left behind.“
She looked at the object from Psionus's locker.
“Psionus loved talking about this stuff. He could go on all day about his theories,“ she whispered.
“What theories?“ Castle asked.
Lilyon’s eyes made their way to his, the silver specks brightening.
“That this galaxy was testing grounds for the Architects,” she said. “A place away from theirs where they could take risks.“
“Aetherveil doesn't believe that, though. Does she?“ Castle asked.
“No,” Lilyon said. “She doesn't remember anything about them, but she thinks they destroyed theirselves like you're doing.“
“I don't think any of us are where we want to be—including Aetherveil,“ he said.
“Aetherveil is exactly where the wants to be,” Lilyon muttered.
Castle stood up, positioning himself on front of the hatch.
“What's her deal, anyways?“ he asked. “She's an expert fighter, but awful talker.“
Lilyon laughed. It was the first smile Castle had seen since stepping into the compartment. With a quiet click, he closed the hatch behind him, leaving her alone once more—clutching Psionus’s trinket like a fragile piece of her past.
