"We are going to call her," Ragia stated.
His voice did not waver. It cut through the dense silence of the command center like a serrated knife through stale bread.
He was still staring at the black sphere on the console, but his eyes were no longer seeing the object itself. He was seeing the past. He was seeing a woman with hair like blood and a smile that could freeze a supernova.
Tonix, who had been attempting to retrieve her dropped stylus with the tips of her boots, froze. She slowly looked up, her face a portrait of genuine confusion.
"Call who, Capt?" Tonix asked. "If you mean the pizza delivery on the lunar colony, I think we are a bit out of range.
"And frankly, I am not in the mood for pepperoni after finding out your family tree is basically the Who's Who of galactic powerbrokers."
"Not pizza, Navi," Ragia said. He tore his gaze away from the sphere and looked at her. "My mom."
Tonix blinked.
Once…
Twice…
She spun her chair around fully, the leather creaking in the quiet room.
"Vallendina Ganaché?" Tonix repeated, her voice pitching up slightly. "You want to just... call her? Like she is a neighbor?"
"Capt, you do realize that the Ganaché private network has better encryption than Reagalus High Command, right? We can't just patch a signal through to the matriarch of Mars. It is impossible. We would need a quantum key just to get past the firewall, let alone get her secretary on the line."
"I know," Ragia said.
He reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. It was the same pocket where he kept the pen that rewrote reality, but this time, he pulled out something else.
It was a card.
It was not a standard data-chit or a credit stick. It was a sleek, rectangular slab of pure, matte black material. It seemed to absorb the light around it, creating a small void in Ragia's hand.
Allow me to describe it to you.
It is made of black diamond, mined from the deepest, most pressure-heavy caverns of Mars. The edges are sharp enough to cut skin. In the center, embossed in a gold that shines with an almost liquid luster, is the symbol of the crescent moon with jagged wings.
The mark of Ganaché.
"This is a GanaPass," Ragia said, holding it up. The gold symbol caught the overhead lights, glinting menacingly. "My mother gave it to me the day I left home to join the Academy."
"She told me… to use it only if I was dying or if I needed money."
He let out a short, dry chuckle.
"I never used it. Not even when I was in Tartarus. But I think finding a piece of her jewelry on a Krall warship qualifies as an emergency."
"That is..." Tonix stood up, walking closer to examine the card.
She did not touch it.
She looked at it with the same reverence and fear one might show a live grenade. "That is a Tier Zero access key. I have only heard rumors about those.
"They say a GanaPass can override planetary blockades."
"It can do more than that," Ragia said. "It opens a direct line. No secretaries. No firewalls. It rings the phone on her desk."
"The private one."
He handed the card to Tonix.
Tonix took it gingerly, her fingers trembling slightly. The card was cold. Ice cold.
"Slot it into the main comms array," Ragia ordered. "Bypass the standard protocols. Let the system read the signature."
"Aye, Capt," Tonix whispered. She walked back to her console, moving like she was carrying a holy relic.
Ragia turned to face the rest of the room. Iya was still standing by the tactical station, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Raya was watching him with analytical interest, her Irita twitching beneath her lab coat, a sign that her brain was processing variables at a rate that would give a normal human a stroke.
"I still don't believe it," Ragia muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "Mom is cold. She is calculating. But a traitor? Funding the Krall?"
He shook his head.
"It doesn't fit the profile. She hates the Krall. They disrupt trade. They lower property values. Mom cares about two things in this universe."
"The Ganaché legacy and her profit margins. The Krall are bad for business."
"Perhaps," Raya interjected, her voice cool and logical. "However, the sphere is physical evidence. It cannot be ignored. l
"And you mentioned there are other members of the family."
"Cousins," Ragia spat the word out. "Uncles. The Ganaché family tree is rotten with ambitious little parasites who think Vallendina is too soft. Lacrosse said the traitor was someone who smiles.
"My mom doesn't smile. Not really. But some of my uncles? They smile all the time while they stab you in the back."
"So we are fishing," Iya said. Her voice was tight. "We are calling the shark to ask if the piranhas are biting."
"Exactly," Ragia said. He looked at Iya. His gaze softened. "And if we are going to talk to the shark, we need to look the part."
"What do you mean?" Iya asked, narrowing her eyes.
Ragia gestured to their clothes. Iya in her uniform, Raya in her lab coat, Tonix in her flight suit. They looked like soldiers. They looked like a crew.
"My mom judges people by their appearance before they even open their mouths," Ragia explained. "If we show up on her screen looking like we just rolled out of a dumpster, she won't listen. She will just criticize our fashion choices and hang up."
He clapped his hands together.
"Navi! Don't make the call yet!"
Tonix froze, her hand inches from the card slot. "Capt?"
"We need to change," Ragia announced. "Go to your quarters. Put on something nice. Something formal."
"Pretend we are going to a Ganaché dinner party. We need to show her we are not just grunts. We are civilized."
"You want us to dress up?" Raya raised an eyebrow. "For a video call? That seems mechanically inefficient."
"It is psychological warfare, Prof," Ragia corrected. "Trust me. With my mom, a silk dress is more effective than a plasma rifle."
He looked at Tonix again.
"And Navi," Ragia added. "On your way back, stop by the mess hall. Find Arala. Tell her to come up to the command center too."
"And tell her to wear something... presentable. Not her pajamas."
"You want Private here?" Iya asked, surprised. "Ragia, this is a delicate conversation. Arala is... chaotic."
"She is my sister," Ragia said firmly. "Half-sister. But still family. If I am going to confront my mom, I want to put all the cards on the table. She knows about Arala. Dad must have told her. I want to introduce them."
"This is going to be a disaster," Iya whispered.
"Probably," Ragia grinned. " But it will be a stylish disaster."
"Go!" Ragia shooed them toward the door. "Change! Make me look good! We convene in twenty minutes!"
Tonix grabbed the GanaPass and hurried out, looking relieved to be away from the tension.
Iya sighed, shaking her head, but she followed, her mind clearly already racing through her limited wardrobe.
Raya was the last to leave. She paused at the door, looking back at Ragia.
"A dinner party," Raya scoffed. A dry, cynical laugh escaped her lips. "We are hunting a traitor who might have sold out humanity, and you are worried about the dress code.
"Only you, Capt. Only you."
She turned and walked out, the sound of her laughter echoing down the corridor, mocking the absurdity of it all.
Ragia stood alone in the command center. He looked at his reflection in the dark viewport. He was still wearing his leather jacket and his mismatched socks.
"Showtime, Mom," he whispered to the glass.