The hum of the Wraith’s engines had beco a lullaby, comforting and familiar, a strange contrast to the chaos they’d just escaped. Elara sat in the small galley, elbow-deep in a ration pack that claid to taste like "beef stew." It didn’t. It tasted like regret.
Across from her, Damien stirred his own with a face that looked like he was preparing to eat a live grenade.
"Tell again why we let Nova cook?" Elara muttered, poking the gelatinous blob with her spork.
"She didn’t cook it," Damien deadpanned. "She threatened the food processor until it complied."
Elara smirked despite herself. "No wonder it’s having a breakdown."
From the far corner of the room, Valen snorted. "You two act like soldiers, but bicker like siblings."
"That’s rich coming from soone who sulks like a cat denied tuna," Elara fired back.
Valen raised an eyebrow. "I do not sulk."
"You totally sulk," Damien chid in, mouth full. "I’ve seen you brood in front of the engine core like it insulted your ancestry."
Valen opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again with a shrug. "Maybe I was thinking."
"Or calculating your next cryptic monologue," Elara added.
Laughter rippled through the cramped space. For a fleeting mont, they weren’t fugitives or rebels or failed experints. They were just... people.
But that illusion cracked when Nova entered, face unreadable, holding a datapad close to her chest. The laughter died.
Elara straightened. "Sothing wrong?"
Nova hesitated, then slid into the seat beside Elara. "Maybe. I’ve picked up a weird relay signal. Bounced through four encrypted frequencies."
Damien leaned in. "Replicant?"
"Maybe. Or soone imitating them. But it was ant for us."
Valen tensed. "What did it say?"
Nova tapped the pad and a distorted voice erged. Female. Familiar.
"Elara. He’s here. He’s alive. They’re using him. He doesn’t know who he is."
Elara’s heart stopped. That voice, her mother’s? No, that wasn’t possible. Her mother had died before the Republic’s collapse.
"I don’t understand," she whispered.
Nova put a hand on her shoulder. "It ca from the Caelus system. We’re one jump away."
Damien frowned. "It could be a trap."
"Or a chance," Elara said quietly. "A chance to find out the truth."
Valen studied her. "You believe it’s real?"
"I don’t know," she admitted. "But I have to find out."
Damien sighed. "Then I guess we’re going to Caelus."
The jump to Caelus was quiet. Too quiet.
Valen sat in the co-pilot’s seat, watching Elara pace behind him. He waited until the third lap before speaking.
"You know you’re going to wear a hole in the floor."
"I need answers," she muttered. "I need to know if they lied to ... again."
"They did," he said simply. "That’s what liars do."
Elara stopped pacing. "Not helpful."
"Wasn’t trying to be. Just honest."
She sat beside him, arms crossed. "You ever think we’re just part of a massive joke the universe is playing?"
"Every day."
There was silence, then she chuckled. "Must be a really unfunny one."
"I don’t know," he said, tilting his head. "I think the punchline is coming."
When the Wraith erged into orbit around Caelus, the crew held their breath. It was a barren world, icy, broken, and oddly beautiful, like a snow globe shattered in slow motion.
Sensors pinged. Nova stared at the screen. "There’s a signal down there. Human biosigns. One matches... Elara’s DNA markers."
Everyone turned to her.
Her voice was barely audible. "My brother."
Valen blinked. "You have a brother?"
Elara stood slowly. "I didn’t. At least... I didn’t think I did."
Nova glanced at Damien. "Prep the stealth suits. If this is a trap, we go in quiet."
The descent was rougher than expected. Caelus’ storms ripped at the shuttle like a child having a tantrum. Inside, the team clung to restraints, teeth rattling.
"Next ti," Damien groaned, "we pick the vacation planet."
"Yeah," Elara muttered. "Sowhere warm. With drinks."
"With umbrellas," Nova added, gripping the controls.
Valen raised an eyebrow. "I have never understood why you put paper umbrellas in beverages."
"Because," Elara said, "it makes you feel like your life hasn’t gone completely to hell."
Valen thought about that. "Seems inefficient."
Nova grinned. "You’re not wrong."
They touched down in the middle of a frozen canyon. The signal led them to a do half-buried in ice, Republic architecture, but old, repurposed. Inside, the walls buzzed with low power. Lights flickered.
A figure appeared from the shadows.
He looked... young. Barely twenty. Tall. Brown hair. Blue eyes that mirrored Elara’s.
"Elara?" he said.
She froze. "You... how do you know my na?"
He blinked, confused. "Because I dream about you. Every night."
Her heart thudded. "What’s your na?"
"They call Subject Nine."
Elara felt her legs buckle. Valen caught her.
Damien stepped forward. "We need to leave. Now."
From behind Subject Nine, shadows stirred, Replicants. Watching.
Too late.
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