The Space Empress He Craved

Chapter 125

POV: Lyra

By the time we reached the detention level, it was over.

The security station was in chaos. Guards ran between terminals, shouting codes I recognized from my military days—full lockdown, all exits sealed, nobody in or out. But the containment cell where Sasha had been held was empty, its energy field flickering with malfunction.

"How?" Orion's pathways were pure black fury.

Chief Dalloway approached, his own Lyrokan pathways dim with shame. "Internal job, Your Eminence. The guard in the interrogation room—he's gone too. Surveillance was looped. By the time we noticed..."

"They're ghosts," I finished, studying the cell. No blast marks, no forced entry. "This was professional. Military grade."

The kind of extraction I used to run in the outer colonies.

"Who has this capability?" Christian demanded.

"Short list," I replied, mind already cataloging possibilities. "Former military, black ops, or—"

"Greg's network," Orion said flatly.

I shook my head. "Greg's many things, but he doesn't have this kind of operational capacity. This is bigger."

Dalloway pulled up the surveillance that wasn't looped. "We have this—partial facial recognition on the 'uncle' who visited her."

The image was grainy, deliberately obscured. But something about the stance, the way he held himself...

"Military trained," Toby observed. "Look at his posture."

"Or ex-military," I added. "Someone who's gone private sector."

Orion's frustration bled through our bond. "She attacked us. Publicly. And now she's free."

"Not free," I corrected. "Owned. Whoever extracted her, she belongs to them now. That's how these operations work. They don't save you—they buy you."

Christian's communicator chimed. His expression darkened as he read. "Three more extractions. Same time stamp. Different locations."

"Who?" I asked, though I suspected.

"Two corruption case witnesses. And..." he paused, "Sebastian Cummings."

Sasha's brother. The one who'd been my third match.

"They're cleaning house," I said. "Getting all the pieces off the board before—"

Another alarm. This time from the archives section. Toby's communicator lit up with emergency feeds. "Fire in data storage. Physical archives."

"The evidence Greg left," Orion realized. "They're destroying it."

"No," I said, certainty hitting me. "They're destroying everything else. Greg's evidence was digital, backed up off-site. But the physical archives have decades of records. Things that might contradict whatever narrative they're building."

We ran toward archives, but I already knew we'd be too late. This was coordinated, professional, timed to the second. By the time fire suppression kicked in, anything important would be ash.

Someone's rewriting history. And they just acquired four people who know where the bodies are buried.

Standing in the archive's smoky remains, I felt Orion's hand find mine. His pathways had shifted from black rage to calculated purple—his strategic mind taking over.

"They want us to chase Sasha," he said quietly. "To focus on her."

"While they move the real pieces," I agreed. "Sasha's a distraction. Always has been."

"So what do we do?"

I squeezed his hand, drawing strength from our bond. "We don't chase. We get ahead of them. Whatever they're planning, it involves the corruption case. Greg knew it—that's why he sent the evidence to me, not you."

"Because you're an outsider," Orion realized. "Not part of the established power structure."

"A mining colony nobody who happens to command a station," I said with bitter humor. "Someone they didn't account for in their plans."

Christian approached, covered in archive ash. "The fire destroyed ninety percent of the physical records. But..." he held up a partially melted data core, "main backup survived. It's damaged, but recoverable."

"How long?" I asked.

"Days. Maybe weeks."

"We don't have weeks," Toby said. "If they're moving this fast—"

"Then something's happening soon," I finished. "Something they need Sasha and the others for."

Orion's pathways suddenly flared. Through our bond, I felt his realization. "The Alliance Summit. Three days."

Every station commander, every major political figure, gathered in one place.

"Void," Christian breathed. "If they're planning something there—"

"They'd need inside knowledge," I said. "Security protocols, access codes, schedules." I met Orion's eyes. "The kind of information a Defense Minister's daughter would have."

"Or a Defense Minister's son," Toby added grimly.

The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture I didn't like. Sasha wasn't extracted to save her—she was extracted to use her. And Sebastian, despite his obsession with me, had his own family loyalties.

"We need to assume the Summit's compromised," I said. "Cancel it or—"

"We can't," Orion said. "It would show weakness. Give them exactly what they want."

"Then we change the game," I decided. "Make them come to us on our terms."

"How?"

I smiled, the kind of smile that made recruits nervous during training. "We give them what they want. Me."

"Absolutely not," Orion's pathways went black instantly.

"Listen. Greg sent me the evidence for a reason. Sasha attacked me specifically. Whoever's behind this, they've factored me into their plans. So let's make them deal with me directly."

"Lyra—"

"I'm not some helpless victim, Orion. I'm a Commander. I've run operations like this, from the other side. I know how they think."

Through our bond, I felt his fear for me warring with his recognition that I was right. His hand tightened on mine.

"Together," he said finally. "Whatever we do, we do it together."

"Together," I agreed.

As we left the destroyed archives, one thought nagged at me. In all of this—Sasha's extraction, the destroyed records, the convenient timing—one person remained invisible.

Greg.

Either he was the best strategist I'd never given credit for, or he was playing a game so deep even he might not survive it.

Time to find out which.