The Wraith cruised through fractured space, silence thicker than the hull that separated them from the void. In the aftermath of escaping the ambush at Ferrix Station, the crew nursed their wounds, both visible and unseen.
Elara stood at the observation deck, watching stars trail like memories slipping from grasp.
Valen approached quietly. "We need to talk."
She didn't turn. "About the man I used to call father?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "And about what he said. About you."
Elara clenched the railing. "He created me to obey. And now he sees me as defective."
"No," Valen said, stepping closer. "He fears you because you chose your own path. That's not a flaw. It's freedom."
In the engine room, Damien and Nova argued over repairs.
"You overloaded the sublight capacitors again," Nova snapped.
Damien growled. "We had Replicants swarming us. I had to punch through."
Nova threw down her tools. "This ship is holding together with duct tape and spite. Stop pushing it like it's invincible."
Damien took a deep breath. "Sorry. You're right. Just…" he looked away. "Don't want to lose anyone else."
Nova's expression softened. "Neither do I."
They fell into a silence of truce, tools clinking in rhythm.
In her quarters, Elara activated an old holorecording.
A younger version of her Version 7 flickered into view.
"Test log. Day 203. Memory retention stable. Dreams recurring. Subject Elara-7 requests new simulations."
Elara watched, transfixed.
The version in the holo hesitated, then added, "Sometimes… I think I remember something that never happened."
Elara paused the video. Tears stung her eyes.
She whispered, "I remember it too."
Later, in the Wraith's cockpit, Nova sat alone.
A private message blinked on her screen, an encrypted call from a Republic command ship.
The message read: Bring in the Replicant. Full pardon. Position reinstated.
Nova stared at the screen. Her thumb hovered over the reply.
Damien entered, saw the glow on her face. "Everything okay?"
Nova closed the screen. "Yeah. Just a glitch."
But her hands trembled.
Damien cornered Valen near the galley.
"You notice anything strange about Nova lately?" he asked.
Valen nodded. "She's been distant. Preoccupied."
"You think she'll sell us out?"
"I think," Valen said, "we're all trying to survive. But yeah. Keep an eye on her."
A sudden signal disrupted the ship's systems, a faint transmission from deep within the Drift.
Nova accessed it.
It was heavily encrypted, coded in ancient Replicant code.
Elara stepped in. "That's my voice."
Everyone gathered as the distorted message played:
"if you hear this he's not who he says Valen is not"
The message cut off.
Everyone turned to Valen.
He stood frozen. "I've never heard that before."
Nova raised her weapon. "Hate to do this, but you're going to explain."
Valen held up his hands. "Let's all calm down."
Damien stepped in. "Start talking, Valen."
Valen sat in the med bay under lockdown, guarded by Damien.
Elara paced outside. Her mind raced.
Valen's voice came through the speaker. "I'm not a Replicant. But I worked with them once. To infiltrate the Republic."
Elara stared at the door. "You betrayed us?"
"No," he said. "I left them. They wanted to use your kind to wipe out everything organic. I stopped them."
Damien frowned. "Why hide it?"
"Because no one trusts a former traitor, even one who switched sides."
The crew gathered in the mess hall.
Nova, conflicted.
Damien, grim.
Elara, silent.
"I believe him," she finally said. "He could've betrayed us a hundred times."
Nova folded her arms. "And the message?"
Elara looked at her. "Someone wants us to break apart. That message was old. Out of context."
Damien nodded. "Then we stick together. But no more secrets."
They all agreed, but trust was now a cracked thing between them.
Later that night, Elara watched stars drift by.
Valen approached quietly. "Thank you."
She didn't smile, but her voice was softer. "You're not the only one with secrets."
He nodded. "We'll face them together."
Outside, the stars whispered of storms to come.