The Starling limped through deep space, its systems flickering from the strain of battle. Shadows still clung to the hull, faint wisps of the dragon's fire refusing to fade.
Inside, Kaelen leaned heavily against the bulkhead, chest aching. Every breath rattled. He'd given too much in the fight. Even with Tessa sharing the bond, the fire left him scorched from the inside.
Tessa patched a burn across his shoulder, her hands steady despite the tension etched into her jaw. "You should be dead," she muttered.
"Wouldn't be the first time I cheated it," he rasped.
Her eyes flicked up, sharp. "This isn't funny, Kael. Every time you use its power, it eats more of you. What happens when there's nothing left to take?"
He wanted to lie, to say he'd fight it, that he could win. But the dragon purred inside him, smug, alive. I will not consume you. I will complete you.
Kaelen bit down on the reply, forcing a smile instead. "Guess we'll just have to keep surviving until we figure it out."
---
The Starling coasted toward an abandoned refueling outpost on the rim of the Thalos Belt. Kaelen recognized the beacon codes immediately—old Resistance tags, long dead since the Empire crushed the rebellion.
Tessa frowned as the outpost came into view. "You're sure this place is safe?"
He nodded slowly. "I knew someone here once. If anyone's left, they're friends."
She didn't look convinced, but set the ship down anyway. The docking clamps groaned, the outpost's lights flickering weakly as the airlock cycled open.
Waiting on the other side was a man Kaelen never thought he'd see again.
"Kael?" The voice was rough, disbelieving. "Gods damn, you're still breathing."
Kaelen froze. "Joren."
The man was broader now, scarred across one eye, his uniform patched but still carrying the colors of the old Resistance. Once, Joren had been Kaelen's commander—and his brother in all but blood.
They clasped arms, the reunion sharp with memories of battles survived and lost.
"I thought you died on Veyra," Joren said, shaking his head.
"Almost did," Kaelen answered. He glanced back at Tessa, who hung back, arms folded, mistrust in her eyes. "This is Tessa. She saved my life more times than I can count."
Joren's smile flickered, then steadied. "Any friend of Kael's is welcome here."
---
They shared food in the cracked mess hall, the taste of recycled rations almost sweet for the company. Joren spoke of scattered cells, survivors clinging to scraps of the rebellion. The Empire's grip had only tightened.
But when Kaelen spoke of the dragon, Joren's eyes sharpened.
"You've seen it," Joren whispered. "The Shadow Dragon. Gods, the stories were true."
Kaelen nodded warily. "It's… bound to me. To us." He glanced at Tessa. "We fought off three frigates with its power."
Instead of awe, Joren's face hardened. "Then you hold the only weapon that can break the Empire."
Tessa shifted, unease clear in her gaze. "That's not how it works. The dragon isn't a tool."
Joren ignored her, leaning closer to Kaelen. "You and I fought too long to let them keep the galaxy in chains. With this power, Kael, we can finish what we started. Burn them out, once and for all."
The dragon stirred eagerly. Yes. War. Fire. Let us be the end.
Kaelen swallowed hard. "I'm not sure it's that simple."
But Joren's smile was sharp. "It never is. Doesn't mean it's not worth it."
---
Later, as Tessa and Kaelen prepared to leave, unease hung heavy in the air.
"I don't like this," Tessa muttered, strapping herself into the cockpit. "Your friend looked at you like you were a bomb he couldn't wait to set off."
"He's desperate," Kaelen said quietly. "We all are."
But the knot in his stomach wouldn't ease.
And then the trap sprang.
The docking clamps refused to release. The console lit up with override codes—Joren's signature. Kaelen slammed the panel, fury burning.
"Damn it—he's locking us down."
The comm crackled to life, Joren's voice grim. "I'm sorry, Kael. Truly. But the dragon isn't yours to hoard. The Resistance needs it. The galaxy needs it. You can't run from destiny."
Tessa's eyes widened with rage. "He sold us out."
Outside the viewport, lights flared—Imperial ships dropping from hyperspace, guided by Joren's beacon.
Kaelen's stomach twisted. "Joren, what have you done?"
"Sacrifice," Joren said softly. "You always carried it well. Better you burn than the galaxy stay in chains."
The comm cut.
---
The outpost shook as Imperial boarding craft slammed into its hull. Armed troopers poured through the docks.
Kaelen's chest erupted in fire, the dragon thrashing. Betrayal. Blood. Burn them.
He staggered, caught between rage and grief. Joren—his brother-in-arms—had delivered him into the Empire's hands.
Tessa grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to hers. "Kael! Look at me. Don't let it take you. Not now."
Tears burned his vision, but he forced a nod. "Together?"
Her grip tightened. "Always."
---
The doors burst open. Imperial soldiers stormed in, weapons raised. Kaelen and Tessa stood side by side, shadows already curling around them.
The dragon roared.
Flame exploded from Kaelen's chest, swallowing the first wave. Tessa's blaster sang, precise and deadly. The mess hall became a storm of fire and light, screams lost in the roar.
But through the chaos, Kaelen's gaze caught Joren's—standing behind the troopers, face pale, regret shadowing his eyes.
For a heartbeat, Kaelen faltered. The brother he'd trusted had betrayed him—but had he done it out of malice, or out of broken hope?
The hesitation nearly killed him. A soldier's blade slashed across his side, fire and pain colliding. He staggered—only for Tessa to blast the attacker down, fury in every shot.
She grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the docking bay. "We don't have time for ghosts, Kael!"
But Joren's voice cut through the smoke. "Forgive me, brother."
Kaelen looked back one last time, shadows curling at his feet.
And in his chest, the dragon whispered coldly: Forgiveness is ash. Burn him.