I woke up choking on my own spit.
Senna had me strapped to the nav seat. Three belts across my chest, another pinning my thighs. My wrists were zip-tied to the armrests.
"What the hell—" I yanked against the restraints. Plastic bit into skin.
"You stopped breathing." Senna didn't look at me. She was hunched over the console, fingers flying across the display. Her jumpsuit sleeve was torn at the shoulder and there was blood crusted under her nails. "Twice. Had to restart your heart once."
My ribs ached like someone had kicked me. Probably had. CPR wasn't gentle.
"So you tied me down?"
"You tried to kill me."
I went still.
Senna finally turned. Her face was pale, eyes shadowed. There were red marks on her throat. Fingerprints. My stomach dropped.
"I don't—"
"You don't remember." She laughed, sharp and bitter. "Yeah. I figured."
The shuttle was shaking. We were moving fast, engines screaming. Through the viewport I could see nothing but black and the occasional streak of a star going past too quick.
"Where are we?"
"Running." Senna pulled up a star chart. It was a mess of red dots and warning triangles. "Fleet's got three intercept vectors locked. We've got maybe twenty minutes before they box us in."
I looked down at the zip ties. They were the industrial kind, the ones that didn't break unless you had a blade. "You gonna untie me or let them haul me back in a bag?"
"Depends." She leaned against the console, arms crossed. "You gonna tell me what the hell that was back there?"
"I told you. I don't remember."
"You said something." Her voice went flat. "Right before you went for my neck. You looked me dead in the eyes and said, 'Terminate all units. Authorization Starfire Command. No appeals.'"
The words hit me like cold water.
I knew them. I didn't know how, but I knew them. They tasted familiar in a way that made my skin crawl.
"That's not me," I said.
"Then who is it?"
I didn't have an answer.
Senna pushed off the console and crouched in front of me. Close enough I could see the bruise forming under her jaw. "Listen to me. That file I showed you? The one with your face and a dozen dead soldiers? That wasn't the worst part."
She pulled out her tablet. Swiped to a new screen.
It was a personnel log. Rows and rows of names, photos, ID numbers. All of them had the same red stamp across the top: TERMINATED.
"Project Starfire didn't just make clones," Senna said quietly. "They programmed them. Reflex triggers, combat protocols, kill switches. The brass wanted soldiers who'd follow orders even if their own brain was screaming no."
I stared at the list. Thirty names. Thirty faces that could've been siblings. Could've been me in a different uniform.
"Most of them went rogue," Senna continued. "Broke conditioning, deserted, turned on their handlers. So Command activated the termination protocol. Every unit, no appeals. They hunted them down one by one."
She tapped the screen. The list scrolled down, down, down. Every name had a date next to it. All within the same year.
"You're the only one left."
My throat closed up.
"That's why they want you dead," Senna said. "You're evidence. Living proof they did something so illegal the Senate would burn the fleet to the ground if it ever came out."
I couldn't look away from the list. Couldn't stop counting. Thirty-two units. Thirty-two executions.
Thirty-three if you counted me.
"The phrase you said," Senna added. "That was the activation code. The one they used to trigger the kill reflex in every Starfire unit." She paused. "Someone put that in your head, Kira. And it's still in there."
I wanted to throw up.
Instead I pulled against the restraints again. Harder this time. The zip ties didn't budge.
"Let me out."
"Can't do that."
"Senna—"
"You almost crushed my windpipe." Her voice cracked. "I had to tase you three times before you let go. You didn't even blink."
I stopped pulling.
She looked away, jaw tight. "I don't think you wanted to do it. But I don't think you had a choice either."
The shuttle lurched. An alarm started screaming.
Senna swore and lunged for the console. "They're pinging us. Fleet cruiser, heavy intercept class."
I twisted in the seat, trying to see the display. "Can we jump?"
"Not without a destination lock. And if I pick the wrong coordinates we'll drop into a sun or a fleet blockade." She was typing fast, pulling up nav data, scanning for gaps in the net. "We need the black box data. Echo, you done cracking that thing or what?"
The AI's voice came through the speakers. Calm as ever. "Decryption at ninety-two percent. Recommend you extend survival window by four minutes."
"Oh sure, I'll just ask them to wait," Senna snapped.
Another alarm. This one lower, meaner.
"Missile lock," I said. I didn't know how I knew. I just did.
Senna saw it half a second later. "Shit."
She slammed the throttle. The shuttle dropped hard, engines reversing. My stomach tried to climb out through my mouth.
The viewport lit up. Two streaks of white punched past us, close enough I could feel the heat through the hull.
"They're not warning shots," Senna said.
She yanked us into a spiral. The whole cabin tilted. My restraints were the only thing keeping me in the seat.
"Senna, untie me."
"Not a chance."
"I can fly better than you."
"You can also kill me without meaning to."
Another missile. This one clipped our port stabilizer. The shuttle screamed and something exploded in the back. Smoke started pouring into the cabin.
"Echo!" Senna shouted. "I need that data now!"
"Decryption complete," the AI replied. "Uploading coordinates."
The nav screen flashed. A single set of numbers appeared, glowing green.
Senna stared at it. "What the hell is that?"
"Beacon origin point," Echo said. "The black box was transmitted from a decommissioned medical frigate. Registry number SF-Seven-Niner-Kilo. It has been off-grid for ten years."
I knew that number.
I didn't know why. But I knew it the same way I knew the termination code. The same way I knew the missile lock before it appeared on screen.
"That's a Starfire ship," I said.
Senna looked at me. "How do you—"
"I don't know." My voice came out hoarse. "But I've been on it."
Another lurch. The hull groaned.
"We're out of time," Senna said. She punched in the coordinates. "Echo, if this is a trap I'm deleting you first."
"Noted," the AI said mildly.
The jump drive spun up. The cabin lights flickered.
Senna grabbed the control stick. "Hold on."
The stars stretched. My vision went white.
And then we dropped into real space and I saw it.
A ship. Huge, dark, drifting. No lights. No power signature. Just a dead hulk floating in the nothing.
The hull was scorched black. Something had burned it from the inside out.
Senna let out a breath. "Is that—"
"SF-Seven-Niner-Kilo," Echo confirmed. "Medical frigate. Reported destroyed ten years ago during the Starfire purge."
I couldn't stop staring.
Because I remembered it now.
I remembered waking up inside that ship. Remembered the smell of antiseptic and burned metal. Remembered screaming and no one coming.
Remembered the day they locked us in and set it on fire.
"Kira?" Senna's voice sounded far away. "Kira, talk to me."
I opened my mouth.
And without meaning to, I said: "That's where I died."