I stared out the front of the cockpit, the stars streaming past in silent, indifferent streaks. "Why... Why?" I asked, my voice barely whispering, not expecting an answer.

Jax shifted in his seat beside me, his jaw tight as he looked ahead. “Captain Thorne made his choice, Alex. He knew what it meant.” His voice was gruff, but there was a note of respect in it. “They all did.”

I shook my head slowly, not sure if I was trying to clear my thoughts or reject the idea altogether. “But… all those lives. The Vanguard was a new ship. They could have made it out. We could have…”

“They didn’t throw their lives away,” Zara cut in. Her voice was hard. She had turned in her seat to face me, her expression hardened by experience. "It was a sacrifice, yes," she said, her voice firm, “but it was far from a waste. They made sure we could escape. Made sure you could escape.”

I clenched my fists, heat rising as my chest tightened. “I didn’t ask for that,” I said, my voice trembling. “I didn’t want anyone to die for me.”

Zara's gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not about what you wanted, Alex. It’s about what was necessary.”

Jax nodded in agreement. “Captain Thorne knew the stakes. It wasn’t about saving a ship or a few lives. It was about giving you and the Razorwing a chance to make it through. That’s why he did it.”

I turned away, unable to meet their eyes. I watched the endless darkness of space pass by instead, feeling hollow. It felt wrong as if some part of me was supposed to have felt different when we made it out. It's like there was supposed to be some kind of victory. But all I felt was the weight of what we’d left behind.

“So that’s it?” I asked, my voice low. “Just accept that people are going to throw themselves on the pyre whenever I’m in danger?”

Zara sighed, the faintest flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “As long as you’re in line for the Draven title and the ruler of Drakara, there will always be people who are willing to make that choice for you. And there will always be those who see it as their duty.”

“Not everyone’s going to agree with it,” Jax added. “Hell, you may never feel right about it either. But out here… sometimes that’s what it takes.”

“I don’t want it to be that way,” I murmured, my throat tightening. “I don’t want people to die for me. If that’s what it means, then…”

“Then you’d better get used to being disappointed,” Zara interrupted sharply. “You don’t get to choose who makes sacrifices for you, Alex. You just have to decide what you’re going to do with what they’ve given you.”

Her words hit like a slap. I knew she was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. I had heard the conviction in his voice when he ordered us to escape. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel as if I had somehow failed him. Failed all of them.

The cockpit fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound the low hum of the ship’s systems as we sped away from the wreckage left behind. I forced myself to look forward, even though all I wanted to do was shut my eyes and wish it all away.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The Vanguard’s last stand haunted me, a ghost at the edge of my thoughts. It loomed in the darkness, a question I didn’t know how to answer. But I knew one thing with painful certainty: that choice had been theirs. And now, what I did next would be mine.

***

Cedric Draven threw the tablet across the room, the glass shattering against the stone wall. “Damn it!” His voice echoed through the chamber like a roar, raw and furious. He gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles white, his entire body trembling with a rage that he could barely contain.

The veins in his neck stood out, his breaths coming fast and ragged. He could barely keep himself from tearing the entire room apart. How could they have failed? How could he have escaped?

The room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the blaze of anger in Cedric's eyes. He paced back and forth, the heels of his boots striking the floor in sharp, rhythmic beats. The Gravity Hammer—one of his finest assets—had been obliterated, and that upstart whelp had lived to tell the tale. The entire operation had been planned down to the last detail. Every possible outcome accounted for… or so he’d thought.

But Alex had survived. Again. Like a curse that refused to be broken.

He slammed his fist onto the table, the impact rattling the scattered papers and datapads. “Useless!” he spat, disgusted at the thought of how much he had invested in this failed mission. His mind seethed, a torrent of fury and frustration boiling over. He had underestimated the boy for the last time.

Cedric stormed over to his communication console, jabbing the interface with a shaking finger. “Get me Baelor on Drakara,” he growled at the comm officer. “Now.”

The screen flickered to life a moment later, revealing the shadowed face of a man in a dimly lit room. Baelor’s grizzled features were barely visible in the darkness, but the gleam in his eyes showed a readiness that Cedric was counting on.

“The mission failed,” Cedric said bluntly, his voice like ice. “Alex lives. I want you to accelerate the plan.”

Baelor arched a brow, though he didn't seem particularly surprised. “Accelerate?” he repeated after a few moments, his voice rough and gravelly. “Are you certain? The situation in Drakara is already volatile. Pushing further now could—”

“I don’t care what it could do!” Cedric snapped, his expression twisted with contempt. “I want every fire stoked. The riots, the sabotage, everything. I want the people to scream for change. To beg for it.”

Baelor hesitated, but only for a moment. “Very well,” he replied, letting out a breath as he inclined his head slightly. “I’ll see to it that the unrest is… intensified.”

Cedric’s lips curled into a thin, joyless smile. “Good. And make sure they know who to blame. I want Alex’s name burned into their minds.”

Baelor gave a short, wordless nod, and the screen went dark. Cedric turned away, his mind already racing with his next move. The boy might have escaped this time, but it didn’t matter. The pressure was mounting on all fronts, and soon, even Alex wouldn’t be able to hold it together. Cedric would see to that personally.

He drew in a breath and pulled up another comm channel, this time to a different contact. The figure that appeared on the display wore a formal military uniform, the lines of his face sharp and severe, his eyes betraying a keen intelligence. The connection was secure, and Cedric spoke with a cold determination.

“General Atria,” he said, his tone lower but no less dangerous. “We need to meet. It’s time to move forward with your proposal.”

The general’s expression did not shift. “You’ve decided, then?”

“Yes,” Cedric answered, his voice hard as iron. “Alex is a threat to everything we’ve worked for. If we’re going to secure the Empire’s future, then we need to crush him—now. There can be no more waiting.”

“Understood,” General Atria replied, a hint of grim satisfaction in his voice. “I’ll arrange for a meeting. You’ll have my full support.”

Cedric ended the call, and his anger was not diminished but channelled. There was no room for half-measures anymore, no time to play it safe. If it took the Empire itself burning to bring Alex down, then so be it.

Cedric stood in the dimly lit room, the shattered remains of the tablet still scattered across the floor. He picked up a shard of the shattered tablet and squeezed it. Blood dripped from his closed fist. He would see Alex Draven broken, one way or another. The boy’s every victory would be turned to ash.