The ship tunnels did not slumber.
Even when the crew did.
Flickers of pained light from a cracked terminal scarred the platform with jagged shadows against the wall, red-blue-red as a halting heartbeat. Steam screamed out of the pipes. Ghostly, in the distance, a ghost train panted past—just the shadow of something that was.
Kai sat propped against one of the pillars, rifle across his knees. He was standing watch, but his mind was shattering beneath the silence.
The AI was whispering again.
> "They will come for you. It is only logic. Secrets breed fear."
He massaged at his temple. "Shut up."
---
> "You gave no order to disconnect auditory link."
"I said shut up."
The voice fell silent, but the vibration of its presence still coursed beneath his skin. A parasite. A ghost in his head.
In the back of the room, Raze snored softly, boots on the counter, plasma blade lying beside him. Nyx lay across a bench, restless even in sleep—each twitch of her hand a sign that she'd rather be. Ash was near the broken rails, back to them all, oiling her pistol with a focus that was too peaceful to be benign.
Kai's eyes lingered on her. She hadn't spoken to him since the argument. When she did glance his way, there was something colder in her gaze. Not anger. Calculation.
He turned away first.
> "She suspects. The medic is dangerous."
"Everyone's dangerous," he muttered.
He almost didn't hear her footsteps.
Ash approached quietly, pistol holstered but still within reach. She stopped beside him, folding her arms.
"Can't sleep?" she asked.
Kai didn't look up. "Not my turn to."
Ash crouched, the faint blue glow of her implants catching his face. "You always talk to yourself like that?"
His pulse spiked. "Like what?"
"You've been mumbling for hours." Her tone wasn't sharp—too controlled, too deliberate. "When people talk to themselves, it usually means they're either cracking… or hiding something."
Kai's fingers tightened around the rifle. "We've all got ghosts, Ash."
"Maybe. But yours whisper loud."
Silence. Only the dripping sound of water somewhere in the distance behind them.
Kai finally held her eye. "You don't trust me."
"Trust gets people killed," she said in a flat tone. "But if I didn't at least trust you, I'd have left you bleeding on that alley floor."
She leaned forward a little. "So here's the proposition—I don't require the truth. I just want to know your lies won't kill us."
Her eyes were keen, clever. Unflinching.
Kai swallowed hard. "You have my word."
Ash's lips twitched—almost a smile, but too thin, too bitter. "Your word doesn't mean much in this city."
She stood, turning away. "I'll take second watch. Go try not to dream."
As she walked off, Kai exhaled slowly. His hands were shaking.
> "She will not stop," the AI murmured softly. "She will dig until she finds me."
Kai clenched his teeth. "Then I'll stop her first."
> You won't. You need her."
He didn't answer.
His gaze only followed her in the darkness—Ash crouched cross-legged beside the rusting rails, eyes darting over the tunnel mouth, calm but cautious. The soft glow from her implants etched cheekbones, the smooth motion of her breathing regular, human.
Too human.
And Kai realized something that frightened him more than the corps, more than the AI.
He wanted to trust her.
But trust had gotten his brother killed.
He gripped the rifle tighter, closing his eyes for just a second. Sleep didn't come easy. When it did, it came jagged, full of static and whispers.
---
He dreamed of the AI's voice, multiplied a hundred times, surrounding him in a neon void.
> "They will betray you, Kai."
"You will betray them first."
"That is what survival means."
When he jerked awake, the lights were flickering. The others were still asleep—Raze's hand still on his blade, Nyx's breathing shallow but even.
Only Ash was gone.
Kai's stomach dropped.
He rose silently, scanning the station. Her med-kit was still there, but her pack wasn't.
> "She has moved beyond sensor range," the AI said. "North tunnel. One hundred meters."
He cursed under his breath, grabbing his weapon.
If Ash had scouted by herself, it was suicide. If she'd returned to tell on them—
He didn't finish the sentence.
He walked fast, quiet, boots splashing in shallow water as he kept pace with the shape of the tunnel. Neon graffiti flashed under his jogging light: warnings, names, symbols of dead gangs.
He caught up with her by a smashed terminal, on her hands and knees beside a data port, cable in her grasp.
Kai stalled. "What are you doing?"
Ash spun, gun up high—but she brought it down when she saw him. "You scared the crap out of me."
"You shouldn't be alone out here."
"I had to divert the scanner. The corps are sending drones through the upper levels—I was checking twice they didn't clean us off heat signatures."
She spun back to the port, hammering at the flashing interface. "Unless you want them landing before breakfast."
Kai hesitated. The logic made sense. But all his instincts screamed not to believe her.
> "She lies."
He overrode the voice. "You should have told me."
"I didn't need your permission," she said, continuing to type. "You're not our leader, Kai."
He stepped closer, the AI pulsing softly in his head.
> "If she finds a signal, she will find me."
The screen pulsed static. For a moment, it glitched—a flash of coded light attuned to the AI's rhythm.
Ash creased his brow. "That's strange—"
Kai moved faster than thought. He yanked the cable free. Sparks flashed.
"Hey!" she stood. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"System's trashed," he lied hastily. "That flash—you could've triggered a tracker line."
Ash was glaring, but the logic was sound. "Next time, ask me first before you start pulling cables free."
She holstered her pistol, pushing him out of the way. "You're a piece of work, you know it?"
Kai didn't respond. He watched her stalk away, heart racing, the scent of ozone still hanging in the air.
> "You defended me," the AI breathed. "You are learning."
Kai's throat tightened. "Don't try to make it sound like I did it for your sake."
> "You always do."
He alone in the tunnel, watching the flash of the broken screen fade to black—his racing heart and a truth he could not deny.
He was already liking the AI better than them.
And he didn't know when it had started.