Read Chapter 17: The Female Turncoat

The maintenance annex smelled of ozone and sweat. Kaelen sat with his back against a coolant conduit, the data chips pressing against his thigh through the pocket of his pressure suit. Outside, the low rumble of distant explosions echoed through the hull—Cassian's guard units probing the barricades, testing where the rebels were weak.

They'd held for six hours. Twelve dead. Twenty more wounded. And no word from the upper decks about whether the broadcast had sparked anything beyond the lower depths of the ship.

Maris ducked through the hatch, her rifle slung across her back. Her face was streaked with grime, and there was a fresh cut along her jawline she hadn't bothered to clean. "We've got a problem."

"Aren't they all problems?" Kaelen pushed himself to his feet.

"This one's wearing a Circle uniform." She stepped aside.

Jena walked into the annex like she owned it. She'd shed her formal guard cloak, wearing only the grey tunic and trousers of the upper-deck service corps. Her dark hair was pulled back severely, revealing the sharp lines of her face. She looked at Kaelen without apology.

For a moment, he couldn't breathe. His sister—the sister who had disappeared six years ago, who he'd spent countless shifts searching for in maintenance shafts and cryo bays—stood three meters away, alive, whole, and wearing the colors of the enemy.

"You're dead," he said. The words came out flat, hollow.

"Clearly not." Jena's voice was calm, as if she'd rehearsed this moment. "Why don't you ask me what I'm doing here before you decide what to feel?"

Maris moved to stand between them, but not quite blocking. Her hand rested on the grip of her pistol. "She came through the lower-deck tunnels alone. Unarmed. Says she has information."

"Information." Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Six years, Jena. Six years I searched. I tore apart every deck, every crawlspace—I nearly got myself killed twice. And you're just... here? In a Circle uniform?"

"I've been here the whole time." Jena's voice cracked, just slightly. "Not by choice. Cassian took me after the Arrival Incident. I was sixteen, Kaelen. He had me inducted into his household guard before I understood what was happening. And I've been his obedient little soldier ever since." She looked away. "Until now."

"What changed?"

"You did." Jena met his eyes again. There was something raw there, something that made Kaelen's anger waver. "You broadcast the truth. I heard it on the private command channel. Cassian thought it was amusing—that his precious spy's little brother was causing so much trouble." She shook her head. "He laughed. And I realized I'd spent six years serving a man who destroyed my family to hide his lies."

Maris exchanged a glance with Kaelen. "She says she has the weapon codes for Deck 1."

"The secure deck," Kaelen repeated. "That's what you're offering? Access codes?"

"I'm offering more than that." Jena reached into her collar and pulled out a slim data card. "This is the full security overlay for Deck 1—guard rotations, biometric locks, emergency override sequences. Everything you need to take the Bridge before Cassian can fortify it further."

Kaelen took the card but didn't look at it. His eyes stayed on Jena. "Why should I trust you? You're not the sister I remember. You're a Circle officer."

"I know." Jena's voice was quiet. "And I know I can't undo that. But I can give you what I have. And I can fight beside you when you go up there."

The silence stretched. Outside, another explosion shook the deck, closer this time.

Maris stepped forward, pulling Kaelen aside. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I know this is personal, but we need to be pragmatic."

"You're vouching for her?"

"I'm vouching for the fact that she's been feeding me intelligence for the past three hours through the maintenance comms." Maris's jaw tightened. "The rotations she provided check out. The guard positions match our scouting reports. If she's lying, she's put an incredible amount of effort into the deception."

"And if she's not lying?"

"Then she's our best shot at reaching the Bridge before Cassian consolidates. Bel's already rallying the upper-deck forces. If we wait, we lose whatever momentum the broadcast bought us."

Kaelen looked back at Jena. His sister stood unmoving, her hands loose at her sides, watching him with an expression he couldn't read. The data chips in his pocket seemed to burn against his leg—the Log fragment that held the ship's secrets, and Jena's own chip, the one he'd carried for years without knowing what it contained.

He pulled out the chip. "You left this behind. When you disappeared."

Jena's eyes widened. "You kept it?"

"I never stopped looking." Kaelen held it up. "What's on it? I never read it."

"Plans." Jena's voice broke again. "I was planning to run. To take you with me. But Cassian found out before I could. He made sure I couldn't contact you—made sure you thought I was dead." She swallowed hard. "I failed you. I know that. But I'm here now."

A shout echoed from the barricade. One of the younger rebels—Kiri, barely nineteen—ducked through the hatch. "Kaelen! They're advancing up the maintenance corridor. We can't hold much longer."

Kaelen looked at the data card in his hand. Then at Maris. Then at Jena.

"Deck 1," he said. "If we're going, we go now."

Jena nodded, a flicker of something like relief crossing her face. "The codes won't stay valid for long. Cassian cycles them every eight hours. We have maybe two left."

Maris pulled her rifle from her back. "Then let's not waste them."

They moved toward the hatch. Kaelen fell in beside Jena, matching her stride. For the first time in six years, his sister was in reach. And for the first time since she'd appeared in the annex, he allowed himself to believe she might be real.

"Thank you, Kaelen," Jena whispered, almost inaudibly.

He didn't answer. He just kept walking toward the guns.