Or so he had thought.

And then she was gone, leaving him alone in the command seat. The system still showed him as NULLED in the crew manifest. But the ship didn’t care about manifests.

Kaelen felt the words land like cold metal in his gut. Not just rejected. Nulled . Erased from the equation as if he had never been a variable. Darya, trembling hands and all, had pulled rank. And command, terrified of her political connections, had agreed.

Kaelen stood. He walked to the viewport of the orbital station. Below, the Event Horizon —the ship he was supposed to pilot—gleamed like a silver needle. And walking up its boarding ramp, flanked by aides, was Darya. She moved with that practiced, theatrical steadiness. But Kaelen had seen the medical files. Her tremor wasn’t gone. It was just hidden.

“Then I’ll make one.”