To Marcus, it was defiance.
Chapter 2 — The Cut Heard Around the Base
“Step forward, Private Hayes!”
“You keep standards, or standards keep you,” Marcus growled, circling. “If a detail is beneath you, the mission will be too.”
With practiced precision, he snipped the braid. Dark ribbon fell to dust. Gasps rippled, swallowed by rigid silence.
Alara didn’t flinch. “Understood, sir.”
Marcus dropped the braid. “Next time, remember what respect looks like.”
He turned—and froze.
Chapter 3 — The Badge That Shouldn’t Exist
Half-hidden in her collar, worn thin by time, was an emblem: a black hawk over a crimson sun.
It wasn’t regulation. It wasn’t decorative. It wasn’t supposed to exist in open view.
Hawthorne Echo. A classified rescue detachment dissolved after the Sector 9 catastrophe. Five members; four men and one woman. All listed KIA. Files sealed. Names whispered only in corridors where memory still saluted.
