It took us longer than I thought it would to calm the station crew we found locked in what turned out to be a conference room. Jax found out they had the station’s commander locked away in a room off the main control centre. After a lot of discussion, Zara, JAx and I decided to head there next. One of the officers offered to show us where we needed to go.

Outside, the corridor was silent, save for the low hum of the lights overhead, casting a pale, sickly glow against the walls. My boots echoed with each step. Behind me, Zara and Jax moved in lockstep, weapons ready, eyes sweeping their surroundings. The air was thick with tension, the faint scent of burning metal drifting from deeper within the station.

We stumbled across the holding cells first. Certainly wasn't planned, but the half-dozen station guards, battered and bruised, restrained behind flickering containment fields, were so happy to see us. Well, not us. But they were happy to see the officer that was guiding us.

The guards looked up at the officer, relief flickering in their eyes. One of the guards, a wiry man with a blood-streaked face, staggered to his feet, fingers gripping the bars as if they were his only tether to hope.

“You’ve gotta get us out,” he rasped, voice raw with urgency. “Rebels from Drakara stormed in. Overpowered us and took control of the station. They’re planning… hell, they’re planning to use it against the Empire.”

My eyes narrowed, my mind racing. “How’d they even get in?”

The guard’s gaze hardened, understanding darkening his expression. “People are calling you a rebel leader, Draven. Stories spreading across Drakara like wildfire. They say you’re here to free us all, to break the Empire’s chains.” The man’s voice cracked, a desperate edge creeping in. “They believe in you, and now… now they’re rallying around that lie.”

A cold weight settled over me. “Don't call me Draven.” I growled, “That is not my name.” My hands tightened into fists. I glanced at Zara. Her face remained void of any emotion, though her eyes mirrored my anger.

“Rumors or not,” Jax muttered, his voice was low, “they’ve made it our problem now.” He turned to Zara and me. “This place is ours to reclaim. We’re not leaving until this station is back under control. The empire’s control. We are not leading a rebellion.”

Zara stepped closer to me, her voice barely a murmur. “Alex, don’t take all this on yourself. The lies aren’t your fault.”

I looked away, my lips pressed into a grim line. “Fault or not, I’m the reason they’re fighting. They think I’m leading some crusade for them. If they keep believing that, more people will die.”

Jax touched my shoulder. “We’ll get the rebels off the station, Alex. Together. You’re not alone in this.”

I nodded as I took off down the corridor. The growing pressure in my chest. The sense that each passing moment allowed the rebels to sink their claws further into the station drove me forward.

We moved through the maze of hallways. Each turn was revealing more and more signs of battle. Scorched walls, shattered glass, and blood spattered on the floors like a trail leading us forward. The station lights flickered in sporadic bursts, casting the place in an eerie half-darkness. The shadows would flicker just a moment too long every so often, setting our nerves on edge.

After minutes of walking, we could hear muted whispers from somewhere ahead. The sound of scraping of boots against metal. Jax held up a hand, signalling for silence as we edged forward. He peered around the corner to find a group of rebels, a motley collection of hardened fighters and wary civilians wielding salvaged weapons. This group looked vastly different from the group we had fought earlier.

They were waiting, crouched low behind overturned crates, weapons trained on the entrance. As Jax watched, one of the rebels. The leader, judging by his stance. Gestured for silence, eyes darting toward our direction.

Soundlessly, Jax moved back, gesturing to Zara and me. He held up his hand, fingers splayed before curling into a fist. Eight. There were eight rebels. We nodded in sync, and on his count, we surged forward.

The ambush was brutal, a chaotic mess of motion. Zara’s plasma rifle hissed, cutting a searing arc as two rebels dropped in one shot, the heated scent of scorched flesh filling the air. Jax moved like quicksilver, his Nexus-enhanced reflexes fluid and precise. He dropped low, pivoting to line up his Gauss rifle with the rebel leader, the weapon thundering as the top half of the man’s torso blew away in a splatter of gore.

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I broke through their defensive line as they scrambled, sword flashing as I moved for the nearest rebel. But as I swung, the inhibitor on my Nexus stuttered. My speed jolted into a brief surge, then staggered as my body reacted unpredictably, each strike either too fast or too sluggish. My blade cut close to the rebel’s neck, just shy of where I’d aimed. The man dodged, eyes wide with surprise, and took aim, weapon trembling in his hands.

My Nexus flared again, giving me just enough speed to dodge his shot, but the shift threw me off balance, and I stumbled, barely recovering my stance. I could feel the inhibitor failing to content the Nexus enhancements with each heartbeat, a prickling warmth that sank into my nerves, making my bones ache and making my movements uncertain.

A rebel lunged from the side, his weapon raised. But before I could even turn, Jax stepped in. He was a blur as his shot ripped through the attacker’s shoulder. The rebel collapsed with a scream, and Jax shot me a hard look.

“Stay sharp, Alex,” he muttered, his gaze flicking over me, his tone tight. “The inhibitor is wearing out. Your nexus is trying to work like normal.”

I grimaced, forcing a nod. “I know,” I ground out, the frustration gnawing at my control.

Zara pressed forward, her rifle releasing precise bursts of plasma that lit up the darkness of the corridor, her gaze darting between targets with lethal precision. Another rebel fell, a smouldering wound in his chest, and I lunged at a nearby attacker, trying to keep pace. But my Nexus jolted again, shifting wildly between bursts of speed and a crawling drag.

I swung, but my strike was too slow this time, and the rebel saw the opening. He raised his pistol, the barrel aimed straight at me. My muscles tensed, but my Nexus failed out again, my body unresponsive.

In that split second, Jax stepped in. He shoved me aside with a force that nearly sent me sprawling, his gauss rifle thundering. The rebel’s head snapped back as Jax’s shot struck home, his body crumpling to the floor, lifeless.

“Focus, damn it!” Jax barked, his eyes fierce, but underneath, there was a glint of concern.

I swallowed hard, gripping my sword tighter. “Thanks. This Nexus is...”

He nodded, his expression hardening. “I know. Just don’t let it take you down with it.”

There were still rebels left, scattered now, their ranks broken, but they fought on, more desperate. Another aimed his blaster at Zara, but before he could fire, she turned, her plasma rifle snapping off a shot that cut through his side. He went down with a strangled cry, his weapon clattering uselessly to the floor.

The last rebel charged, screaming, his blade raised high. I tried to counter, but my Nexus jerked my body into an awkward lunge, throwing off my balance again. The rebel’s blade grazed my arm, a sharp, burning line of pain.

Instinctively, I brought my sword up, letting the blade slide under his guard. I countered, my Nexus granting me one clear moment to slide my blade deep across his chest. He fell, his body twitching before he lay still.

As silence settled, I let out a breath, gripping my arm where the blade had cut me. The inhibitor continued to cut in and out erratically, the warmth in my nerves spreading, gnawing at the edge of my control. I tried to force myself to stay calm and breathe through the frustration clawing at me, but it felt like I was holding back a storm ready to tear me apart.

“Your Nexus…” Zara’s voice was low and steady as she looked at me, a concern in her eyes that she rarely let show. “It’s acting up, isn’t it?”

I nodded, flexing my hand, feeling the tingle as each stutter of the Nexus sent a new ache through my bones. “It’s… it’s unpredictable. Each burst feels like it could either kill or save me.”

Zara’s gaze hardened. “If it gets worse, tell me. We don’t need you going berserk on us in here. Let’s keep you grounded.”

I forced a smirk, but the tension was visible in my face. “Grounded’s the least of my problems right now,” I muttered, flexing my hand to shake off the tingling.

The constant battles continued. Another corridor, another fight. Every rebel we encountered seemed more ferocious than the last, as though they were steeling themselves against me personally as if their very cause depended on it. The officer guiding us hung back well behind us. I couldn’t her, though. A stray blaster shot had almost killed her. After that. She stayed well away.

With each new firefight that we were forced into. I felt that fire inside me rage hotter, threatening to break free. It felt like I was straining against my own skin, against the fractured control I’d fought so hard to maintain. This wasn't what I had wanted for my life. I was meant to be at the academy. Not fighting to regain control of a dammed station around a planet that I hadn't wanted.

When we finally reached the main corridor that led to the command centre, we stopped, crouching against the wall. I closed his eyes, forcing myself to take a slow breath, letting the air fill my lungs and push back against the anger. The rage that was festering in my chest. I could feel Zara watching me, her silence speaking volumes..

“Let it go, Alex,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the station. “We’ve got this.”

But I shook my head. My voice hard. “Not this time, Zara. They’re here because of me. They’re here because they think I can save them. And if I don’t… what happens then?”

Jax reached out, his grip firm on my shoulder, almost in an attempt to ground me. “You’re here, Alex. That’s enough. We do this one step at a time. That’s all we need.”

I nodded, though the weight of their words felt hollow, distant. I was told for as long as I had lived in the Draven household that I wasn't good enough. I could do better. Cerdic was always pointing this out. Each reminder, each reassurance only sharpened the truth that had settled into my mind like a jagged edge: this was my problem to deal with, and only I could end it.