Long-press a paragraph to send danmaku
The name hit her like a shot to the chest.
Keira didn't move. Didn't breathe. Her wrist was still bleeding into Vex's hand and every nerve in her body screamed at her to run, to fight, to do literally anything except stand here and let a Valkan instructor hold her arm like evidence.
Ghost Seven.
No one had called her that in five years. No one was supposed to know that name anymore.
She made herself blink. Made herself look confused. "What?"
Vex didn't let go. His grip wasn't rough but it wasn't gentle either. His eyes stayed locked on hers and she could see him working through it, putting pieces together she'd been burying since the moment she stepped off the transport.
"You heard me," he said.
The boots were getting closer. Someone shouted something about a med kit. Keira's pulse hammered in her throat but she kept her face blank, kept her voice steady.
"I don't know what that means."
"You moved." Vex tilted his head, still watching. Still holding her wrist. "When I said it. Your left shoulder dropped half an inch. Old reflex."
Damn it.
She hadn't even felt herself do it. That was the problem with training that deep. It didn't just go away because you wanted it to.
Keira pulled her arm back. This time he let her. She pressed her sleeve against the cut and forced herself to meet his eyes without flinching.
"I moved because you're being weird," she said. "And because I'm bleeding."
"Ghost Seven was a Coalition black ops call sign." Vex's voice stayed level. Too level. "Declared KIA five years ago during a joint strike on a Vrynn weapons facility. No body recovered."
Keira's heart slammed against her ribs but she kept her expression flat. Bored, even. Like this was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.
"Cool story," she said. "What's it got to do with me?"
"That mark on your wrist." He nodded toward her sleeve, now soaked dark with blood. "I've seen it before. Unit ink. Old Earth military used them before the Coalition standardized ID chips."
She almost laughed. She should've laughed. That's what an innocent person would do.
Instead she just shrugged. "Lots of people have tattoos."
"Not like that one."
The boots stopped behind her. Someone said her name—Keira, not Ghost—and she heard the snap of a med kit opening. Vex didn't look away. Didn't move.
"Sir?" The voice belonged to one of the junior medics, a Valkan kid who looked maybe a year older than Keira's fake ID. "Should I—"
"Give us a minute," Vex said.
The kid hesitated. Then the boots retreated. Not far. Just far enough that they were alone again.
Keira's hand itched. Not the cut. The other hand. The one that wanted to reach for the blade she didn't have anymore. They'd taken everything when she arrived. Standard prisoner protocol. She'd expected that.
She hadn't expected this.
Vex stepped closer. Not threatening. Worse. Careful. Like he was trying not to spook her.
"Keira Morris," he said quietly. "Twenty-three years old. Drafted into the human auxiliary corps two years ago. No prior combat experience. No special training. That's what your file says."
She said nothing.
"But that's not you," Vex continued. "Is it?"
"You're seeing things."
"I watched you disarm Cole in three moves this morning." His voice stayed low but it had an edge now. "That wasn't luck. That wasn't adrenaline. You used a Kael-prohibited joint lock that hasn't been taught outside of Coalition spec ops in a decade."
Keira felt the cold settle into her spine. The kind of cold that meant decisions. Bad ones.
"Maybe I got lucky," she said.
"Twice?" Vex's mouth twitched. Not a smile. Something harder. "You threw someone twice your size yesterday. You didn't plant your feet wrong once. You didn't hesitate. And just now, when that blade cut you, you didn't make a sound."
She should've screamed. She knew that. Normal people screamed when they got sliced open.
"I don't feel like screaming," Keira said.
"No." Vex's eyes narrowed. "You feel like running. Or fighting. I can see it."
He wasn't wrong.
Keira pressed harder against the cut. The pain helped. Kept her focused. Kept her from doing something stupid like confirming every single thing he just said.
"Think whatever you want," she said. "I'm just trying to survive this place."
"Who burned you?"
The question came so fast she almost missed it. Almost.
Keira went still.
Vex took another step closer. Close enough now that she could see the small scar along his jaw, the way his pupils dilated slightly when he was processing something.
"Ghost Seven's file says killed in action," he said. "But there was no body. No confirmation. The mission got scrubbed from official records six months later. Someone buried it. Someone wanted that operative gone."
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He knew. He knew.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Keira said. Her voice came out too flat. Too controlled.
Vex heard it. She saw the shift in his expression. Not suspicion anymore. Certainty.
"You were good," he said quietly. "Best the Coalition had, from what I heard. Three-system war ended because of your strike team. And then you just... disappeared."
"I'm not her."
"Prove it."
Keira's jaw tightened. Her left hand flexed at her side. Old instinct. Old training. Her fingers curved slightly, muscle memory reaching for a blade that wasn't there.
Vex saw it. Of course he did.
"There it is," he said softly.
She forced her hand to relax. Forced herself to breathe. This was fine. She could still fix this. She just needed to—
"Ghost Seven," Vex said again.
Her hand moved.
She didn't mean to. Didn't choose it. But her body knew that name. Knew what it meant. Her hand snapped toward his throat, fast and precise, the way it had a thousand times before in another life.
She stopped herself an inch away from his skin.
Vex didn't flinch. Didn't move. He just stood there with her hand hovering at his neck and something that might've been satisfaction in his eyes.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "That's what I thought."
Keira pulled her hand back. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She'd just confirmed everything. Every single thing he suspected. She was so incredibly dead.
"I could report you," Vex said.
She said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"I could pull your file. Run a deep scan. Get you sent to an interrogation facility by morning." He paused. "Or."
Keira's eyes snapped up.
"Or?" she repeated.
Vex opened his mouth to answer.
The door slammed open. Three people in med uniforms pushed into the room, one of them carrying a case that hummed with active tech. Keira recognized the sound. Old military equipment. The kind built for reading implants and tracking bio-signatures from decommissioned operatives.
The kind that could scan for things like Ghost Seven's old ID chip.
The medic looked at Vex. Then at Keira. Then at the blood dripping off her wrist onto the floor.
"Commander Drah sent us," the medic said. "She wants a full scan on the human. Standard protocol for training injuries."
Vex didn't move. His eyes stayed on Keira.
The medic opened the case. The scanner inside pulsed with pale blue light.
"This won't take long," the medic said, stepping toward her.
Keira's hand flexed again. She couldn't help it.
The scanner hummed louder.