Page 71 of Ravaged By the Reaper
“No,” I say. “I want you tooutmaneuverthem. You do that better when you understand what they want.”
She pauses.
“Send coordinates.”
I do.
The Coalition’s harder.
Their top brass don’t like weakness, and they sure as hell don’t trust humans—especially not humans bonded to Reapers. I don’t bother with flattery. I go straight for the throat.
“You came here to make a statement,” I say to the senior liaison. “Fine. Make it at the summit. Show the whole galaxy your resolve in person. Or keep bombing civvies and look like butchers instead of visionaries.”
There’s a long silence. Then a reply.
“One hour. No weapons. One representative per faction. If you try anything…”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll burn your station to the spine.”
I don’t doubt it.
The last call makes my pulse stutter.
I route it through encrypted relays, bouncing the signal until it’s a whisper in deep vacuum. It connects on the third cycle.
“Speak,” Panaka’s voice rumbles, low and unreadable.
“It’s Sorell. I need you.”
There’s a chuckle that’s more threat than humor. “I knew this day would come.”
“I’m not playing, Panaka. We’re holding a summit. Coalition. Alliance. Gamma. A temporary ceasefire. I need your word that you won’t open fire.”
Silence.
“Say something,” I press.
“This is madness.”
“It’s survival.”
“You’re betting your life on the idea that war can be reasoned with.”
“I’m betting on the idea that people are tired of dying.”
Another long pause. Then a breath, sharp and slow.
“If you’re wrong, girl… we all burn.”
My throat tightens. “I know.”
“No. Youhope.That’s different.”
He’s not wrong.
But I don’t back down. “You’ll be there?”
