Page 80 of Third

“Target coordinates in range,” he said. “We will make visual contact in under six minutes.”

The scanners beeped.

Anya leaned forward. “What’sthat?”

His HUD spiked. “Defensive grid. Surface-mounted artillery. Powered shielding. And—”

He paused.

“What?”

“There is a dome,” he said slowly, voice going flat. “Thermally shielded. Underground hangar, possibly automated.”

The scanner shrieked.

“Brace,” he snapped.

Then the sky litup.

Chapter19

ANYA DIDN’T SCREAM.

She could have. The moment the ship lit up, she could have thrown herself into a panic, let the fear take over, curled in on herself like she used to when the world cracked apart back on Earth.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore.

“Get the shields up!” she shouted instead, even though she had no idea how. Her voice cracked with urgency as the ship bucked beneath her, lights stuttering, the control panel spitting sparks like it might explode. Her hand hovered uselessly over the console until Tor’Vek’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and sharp.

“Secondary console. Teal override display. Lock surge manually.Now.”

She moved fast, fueled by adrenaline and blind trust. Not confidence—instinct. Terror. But it worked. The system flared under her touch. The shields surged, barely holding as the next blasthit.

Tor’Vek cursed in Vettian. One hand wrestled the yoke while the other adjusted their vector. “Evasive pattern.Now.”

Her fingers hovered, unsure, until Tor’Vek barked, “Divert auxiliary power to shields. Bottom left panel—green interface. Route charge buffer override.Now.”

She moved, hands shaking but fast, following his voice. The nav interface flared under her touch. “Likethis?”

“Yes. Stabilize. Lock in.Good.”

Another blast hit, harder this time. The whole cockpit rocked.

Anya held her ground. “Next time, give a girl a tutorial before we start dodging missiles.”

“Affirmative.”

“They knew we were coming,” she added, snapping herself back into her harness.

Tor’Vek’s eyes locked on the view ahead. “Or someone toldthem.”

“Selyr?”

“Affirmative,” he said again.

Her stomach flipped at that. Selyr’s base hadn’t just survived—it was fortified. Active. Hidden under a massive camouflage grid and defensive shielding that didn’t belong to scavengers or pirates. This was military-grade. Precision. Intelligence-backed.

She glanced at Tor’Vek, but he didn’t return it. He couldn’t afford to. Every muscle in his body was wound, focused. But the bond seethed. Beneath his rigid calm, he was seethingtoo.

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