Page 63 of Sixth
The map winked out. Static crawled. Then Lume’s world rose from the mist of interference, silver and blue and green, aplanet that looked like it had been made out of song. The vid came from a Council drone by the angle of the frame and the cold distance of thelens.
Apex’s breath caught even before the first descent burned a forest to ash. The ship hung in orbit like a knife. It’s drive flared white, falling to cutting altitude, and fired. Fields of bioluminescent trees lit like a sea of torches. Every living thing in them lit as well. Rivers boiled dark. The camera swept. The city below lay shaking with heat. Bodies lay in the streets with fur dimmed to ash-gray and wings fallen open like brokenfans.
Lume drifted into the light and trembled. Her colors fractured into sickly bands, her glow falling and rising, falling again. She put her tiny paws on the edge of the table and leaned toward the image as if she could lift it and fix it bywill.
Emmy reached up and steadied her, pressing fingers to soft fur. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “We saw. We know.”
But it wasn’t all right. The feed cut to a second transmission without transition, aCouncil news banner with Apex’s image layered over smoke and ruin, his armor scorched. Aheadline scrolled.Commander Apex Vettar charged in connection with destruction of Echo Light; confirmed deceased following unauthorized mission.
The announcer’s voice came out smooth and solemn. “Apex Vettar led the unlawful assault on Echo Light.” The announcer continued, the voice sharpening like a blade. “Under his command, planetary defenses were shattered, civilian structures annihilated, and millions of lives extinguished. He perished in the chaos he unleashed—afallen commander responsible for genocide masquerading as heroism. The Council condemns his actions and vows to erase his stain from the record.” The phrasing had the substance of carved stone and the rot of falsehood all the way throughit.
Locus hit the side of his fist against the table with a short sound, more restraint than rage. “They killed you on record,” he said, then looked at the others. “They’re lying about everything. They blame you to distract from what they did to Echo Light. To bury their own massacre and make you their villain.”
“They did it to bury Keth-9,” Jo’Nay said. His eyes did not leave the screen. “Bury Echo Light. Bury the warriors they sold.”
Apex let the lie settle in his chest and change into something useful. He turned his hand palm up for Emmy. She placed her hand in his and the mark under her skin flamed.
“They wanted me dead so they could keep doing this, continue their slaughter and exploitation of Echo Light and the other worlds they were plundering for profit.” He looked at Lume. “They wanted your world stripped.”
Lume made a broken sound. The color at her throat bled to pale blue and then slippedaway.
Emmy tightened her fingers. “Then show them you are not dead.”
“We will,” Apex said. He closed his hand around hers, sensing the steadiness of her. “We will show them what command looks like when it does not serve itself.”
The room held the words without spilling adrop.
“Core,” Emmy said, softer. “Is there a way to tag the vid with proof of date and source, then broadcast it to every frequency the old Council cannot choke?”
“I can authenticate timestamps and embed chain of custody records,”Core said.“I can route through civilian nets the Council does not monitor well. It will not take long.”
“Do it,” Apex said. “Time is what they expect us not to have. Especially since they think I am dead.”
“Working.”
“Jo’Nay, when the broadcast hits, some will move to stop it. Draw up a path that keeps us in open corridors and out of their choke points.”
“I have three options,” Jo’Nay said. “We will take the one that looks least obvious.”
Hannah pushed the blanket off her shoulders. “You should let me record a short statement to run with the vid. Survivors matter more than the dead. People listen to the living.”
Locus gave her a look. “You will rest first.”
“I will rest after I’m useful,” she said, and the flash in her eyes told Apex that a thousand small rebellions had kept her alive. He nodded once. Locus set his jaw, then noddedtoo.
Winn had woken while the vid played. She watched Apex with an intensity that struck him as older than her years. Her voice rasped but held steady as she spoke, “They lie because they’re afraid. They know what you saw.” She touched herthroat, the motion now habit, then looked at him again. “We will make them speak the truth.”
Apex bowed his head to her. “Truth,” he said. “We will make them speak it.”
They worked until the map looked less like scattered stars and more like a plan. Routes braided and merged. Names of old allies floated beside sectors. They spoke in fragments because full sentences were not always needed in a room where everyone knew how the others thought.
“Council will try to bait you into a closed hall,” Jo’Nay warned. “They will set traps behind walls where their cameras can twist every word.”
“They will try,” Apex answered, his voice steady.
“They’ll broadcast new charges while we fly,” Hannah said quietly, the hand at her stomach tightening. “They’ll name you butcher and traitor before we arrive.”
“They will,” Apex said, calm butgrim.
