The survivors stood in a half-circle, still blinking as if the battlefield might snap back into motion the moment they relaxed.
They stared at Lucien and Kaia the way people stared at a storm that had chosen to pass them by.
The woman with the broken spear swallowed once, then forced her voice to steady.
"Benefactors," she said carefully, "thank you for your help."
Kaia's grin returned. "Do not mention it."
Lucien did not answer.
His gaze had slid past them, locking onto the wreckage.
The ship's torn belly gaped like a wound. The hull plating had been cut with brutal intent.
Then Lucien's eyes narrowed.
There, scorched but unmistakable, an insignia was etched into a surviving panel.
His pupils dilated.
He looked back at the group.
"You," he said slowly, "are you from the Starforge Cartel?"
The survivors shifted as one. Their shoulders tightened, their hands moved closer to weapons, and the gratitude in their faces curdled into caution.
Lucien saw it and almost laughed.
