“I’m not,” I reply, glancing toward him briefly. “I’m stating that he won’t.”
“He’ll push toward the nearest point of resistance,” I add. “Which means he’ll move exactly where you want him.”
Silence follows, not from doubt, but from calculation aligning across multiple perspectives at once.
The commander shifts his attention between Aeryn and me, not comparing, but measuring how the two positions intersect.
“You’ve worked against him before,” he says to me.
“Yes.”
“And you failed to secure the artifact.”
“I did.”
There is no value in avoiding it.
“And now you stand here, reinforcing the claims of the one who prevented you from obtaining it.”
“Yes.”
“Explain that.”
I don’t look at Aeryn when I answer.
“The objective changed.”
It is enough. The commander looks at me for another moment, then turns slightly, speaking to those around him in a tone that does not invite debate.
“We proceed with full engagement,” he says. “All divisions. No containment. No delay.”
The words move outward immediately, carried through the ranks with efficiency that confirms the decision was already forming before it was spoken.
Now it is set.
He turns back to us.
“You’ve created a situation where inaction guarantees loss,” he says to Aeryn.
“Yes.”
“And action guarantees conflict on all fronts.”
“Yes.”
His gaze shifts to me again.
“And you support this.”
“I do.”
Another pause, longer this time, though it does not break the flow of what has already begun.
“Then you have value,” he says.
Not approval. Assessment.
“We can use that.”