Page 43 of Claimed By the War Brute
I barrel forward—no dramatic flourish. Hand clamped on his throat, fingers curving around windpipe scales and carapace, eyes blazing. He gags out a curse. Everyone else freezes.
Syd stands behind him. Her pistol active, but not pointed. She watches me and Malmount with a predator’s focus.
I release my choke hold enough to speak, voice low and deadly. “You killed her legacy, Malmount. You tried to buy me. To erase your own blood. Now? You’re out of time.”
He sneers. “You’ll die here. This place?—”
I press harder. His face flushes, eyes watered.
“No,” Syd interrupts, voice clear and venomous. She steps forward. “He’s not dying tonight—-but you are.”
It’s symmetrical. Plan. Perfect in its simplicity.
I slam him to the console. He crashes against the metal, vomiting from the impact. His body slumps there. I reach down, rip the badge—his last shred of authority. I crush it, bone-white dust scattering across the console.
Syd finds a mic. “Attention all Valas Core stations.” Her voice echoes. “Anyone with a Malmount pedigree: you’re complicit. Your contracts with him are recorded. You’re giving safe harbor to genocide. This is your choice. Do not cross this red line.”
We walk out—no argument. No hesitation. I drag his unconscious form across the threshold. We step into the corridor as alarms begin to blare.
My heart pounds in my chest, but it’s calm—snap focus. This is exactly where we need to be.
The docking clamps disengage abruptly—the Vigil’s End’s engines flare.
He’s still breathing, unconscious. We strap him into the bridge-floor rig. Syringe ignition port, stun charge at his throat—nonlethal until we decide otherwise. The whole galaxy is watching in black nets now. Malmount’s name trending with every leak.
Syd leans over to me. “He’s yours. Final word?”
I nod once. Impossible to say no.
She presses the charge. Garrus vacuum-locked in the seat. Malmount convulses. I don’t look. I let the ship warp away.
We sit in the cockpit. The engine hum settles into calm. Pair of fugitives, revenants.
Syd breaks silence: “I thought I wanted justice.”
I glance at her. “This… is nothing like justice.”
She turns, gold-embedded in the light. “So?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I breathe slowly. “I wanted something deeper.”
Her smile is small but brighter than any starfield. “Deeper makes it personal.”
I grip her hand across the console. “Deeper makes us unstoppable.”
We sit in silence again. Between us, in the shimmer of hyperspace shift, there’s peace—at last.
But not rest. Not yet.
We’ll fade into legend—Garrus and Syd, shadows turned light.
Tonight, it’s a vendetta fulfilled.
Tomorrow?
That’s where legacy begins.
CHAPTER 33
