The councillors murmured among themselves, the weight of the decision pressing heavily upon them. Valeria stood tall, her gaze unwavering. She knew the stakes of this vote went beyond mere strategy; it was a test of her leadership and the Reyes family's ability to navigate the treacherous currents of Confederacy politics.
"Very well," Ellis said at last, his tone resigned but his eyes calculating. "Let us vote."
One by one, the councillors cast their votes, their decisions projected onto the holographic display for all to see. As the final tally appeared, a murmur of surprise swept through the room.
The council had voted in favor of Valeria's strategy.
Ellis's expression tightened almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing. Nadira met Valeria's gaze, a faint smile of approval on her lips. Valeria allowed herself a brief moment of relief before addressing the council once more.
"This council has spoken," she said. "Ensure that our allies understand the necessity of our actions and that our people are prepared for the challenges ahead."
She couldn't help but think of Cassian, her heart heavy with worry and her mind swirling with unspoken fears. Each moment without hearing from him made her more anxious, feeding a growing frustration that she could barely hold back. She knew that when this was all over, she would have to confront him about the promise he made but didn't keep.
He had promised to avoid unnecessary risks, to stay safe for her sake, and now she was left alone with the heavy weight of not knowing if he was okay. She had every intention of reminding him of the life they were supposed to build together, a life that shouldn't be thrown away on dangerous ventures. The future they dreamed of was full of challenges, that much was clear, but she was ready to face them together. She couldn't let fear or anger take over, no matter how hard it was. Her love for him would give her strength, but he needed to understand that his choices had consequences. She would make sure he saw how much it hurt her to be left behind, worrying if he would come back or not.
The bridge of the Radiant Valor was loud with voices, a mix of worried shouts and upset whispers. Officers barked over one another, their tempers fraying like a rope strained to its limits. The tactical hologram at the center of the room displayed the Krasnikov, an ironclad wall daring anyone to challenge its dominance. The ship's ambient hum was lost beneath the storm of egos as senior officers vied for control over a desperate situation.
Commander Thalos's fist slammed against the console, the sharp sound cutting through the din. "We're out of options!" he snarled, his voice raw with frustration. His face was flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. "Any direct assault would be suicidal. We'd be handing Reyes the rest of our fleet on a platter!"
"And what do you think happens if we retreat?" Captain Velar countered, his voice biting and sharp. His scowl deepened, carving lines of tension into his face. "What do you think the Council will do to us if we don't retrieve the artifact? Losing it would cost us everything—including our lives!"
The argument went around in circles, always ending with the same bad news. It felt like defeat was a shadow hanging over them, heavy and crushing. Everyone on the bridge could feel the pressure, and emotions were running high as anger and fear built up.
Sylvie stood silent, hands clasped behind her back, staring at the hologram. She looked composed, but inside, frustration boiled. These officers had led the fleet from one disaster to another, their desperation now poisoning the chain of command. She felt the weight of the moment settle on her shoulders. Sylvie's jaw tightened. She couldn't stand by any longer.
She took a single measured step forward. "If I may, sirs."
Her voice was calm but strong, making everyone stop and turn. The senior officers stared at her in disbelief. A junior officer—barely a lieutenant—daring to speak out of turn in the midst of chaos? It would have been laughable if not for the gravity of the situation.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Velar snapped, his voice sharp and clearly annoyed.
Sylvie inhaled deeply, her resolve hardening as she straightened her spine. "We can't win through brute force," she began, her voice steady but firm. "Cassian Reyes's a tactician—disciplined, methodical. He commands with a precision that borders on ruthless efficiency. If we disrupt his sense of control, we can create an opening."
Thalos sneered, his skepticism clear. "Disrupt Cassian Reyes? And how exactly do you propose to do that?"
Sylvie stepped closer to the hologram, her voice gaining momentum as she outlined her strategy. "The Valtir Nebula," she said, gesturing to the swirling clouds glowing faintly on the tactical map. "The nebula's ionic interference will blind their long-range sensors and scramble targeting systems."
A flicker of interest passed through the room, curiosity beginning to temper the skepticism. The officers exchanged quick glances, some leaning in closer to the hologram, their earlier dismissal giving way to cautious consideration. It was as if Sylvie's words had sparked a small ember of hope, tentative but growing.
The tension in the air shifted slightly, no longer dominated by frustration but now laced with a fragile sense of possibility. Even those who had doubted her moments ago seemed momentarily captivated, their skepticism softening under the weight of her conviction and the daring simplicity of her plan. This wasn't just about strategy anymore; it was about finding a sliver of opportunity in the midst of despair.
"The ion charges we've recently tested," Sylvie continued, "can be calibrated to plant modified signal distortions at key points. These distortions will mimic highly coordinated fleet movements, compelling Reyes to divert resources to counter phantom threats. An infiltration team will retrieve the artifact during the confusion, ensuring we achieve our primary objective while Reyes is preoccupied with countering our misdirection."
Her hand swept across the map, tracing a daring path through the nebula. "The ionic chaos will disrupt his framework, forcing him into decisions he's unaccustomed to making. We'll exploit that uncertainty."
Velar folded his arms, his frown deepening. "You're suggesting we venture into a nebula that could fry half our systems and hope for the best? It's madness."
"It's calculated risk," Sylvie countered, her tone unwavering. "Our ion charge calibration mitigates most of the danger. Yes, it's unconventional. That's precisely why it will work."
Thalos leaned back, his arms crossed, a skeptical smirk playing on his lips. "And you're confident this plan will succeed because…?"
"Because I've studied Cassian Reyes," Sylvie said, her gaze locking onto his with unflinching resolve. "Every campaign, every maneuver. I understand how he thinks. He relies on information to maintain his dominance. If we blind him, he'll falter."
Silence fell over the bridge as her words settled into the space. The skepticism that had dominated the air softened, replaced by a tenuous thread of consideration.
Velar exhaled sharply, his gaze narrowing as he studied her. "This is your plan, Lieutenant," he said finally, his tone heavy with reluctance. "You'll lead the retrieval operation. If it works, it will save us all. If it fails, the consequences will be yours to bear." By doing this, Velar not only tested her resolve but also safeguarded his position. Success would benefit the fleet, but failure would squarely fall on her shoulders.
Sylvie's nod was sharp, resolute. "Understood, sir." Her voice carried not just determination but a quiet confidence that made some of the officers pause. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on her shoulders, yet she didn't flinch. Her mind raced with details, already beginning to visualize every step of the operation. As she locked eyes with Velar, she added, "I'll make sure this works, no matter what it takes."