System's of Suffering

The faint glow of the communicator's screen illuminated Dax's face as he sat alone in the dim confines of his barracks. The sounds of the Soladren compound—the distant hum of machinery, the measured footsteps of patrolling soldiers—faded into the background. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the activation switch. One misstep and everything would unravel. But the faces of the children wandering the ashes of Sector Twelve pushed him forward.

With a deep breath, he activated the communicator. It crackled faintly before a voice answered, sharp and wary.

"Who is this?" Lyra's tone was laced with suspicion, but beneath it, he caught a flicker of something else. Hope, perhaps.

"It's me," Dax said, keeping his voice low. "I don't have much time. Are you secure?"

There was a pause, then a softer response. "Secure enough. What the hell are you doing, Dax? You shouldn't be contacting me."

"I'm done," he said firmly. "I can't keep watching what they're doing, Lyra. I'm ready to help you take them down."

Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. "Why now? What's changed?"

Dax closed his eyes, the image of Sector Twelve's ruins flashing in his mind. "I thought the Soladrens were the answer. Order, discipline—I thought they were the way to fix everything. But all they do is destroy. I saw what they did to those people, Lyra. To kids. I can't be a part of it anymore."

Her tone softened, though the edge of caution remained. "And why should I trust you? You've been working with them. How do I know this isn't some ploy to bait us out?"

"Because I have something you need," he replied, leaning closer to the communicator. "I have access to their plans, their defenses. I can give you the layout of Elythera, the locations of their key infrastructure. With the right timing, you can hit them where it hurts."

Lyra's silence stretched long enough that Dax began to worry she had disconnected. Then, finally: "What's the plan?"

Relief flooded through him, but he kept his tone steady. "We'll need to coordinate. Their defenses are concentrated around the command tower, but I know a way in. An access tunnel beneath the eastern perimeter—lightly guarded, leads directly to the lower levels of the tower. If you can get a strike force in there, you can take out their central command."

"And what about you?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "You're not exactly inconspicuous, Dax. If you get caught..."

"That's my problem," he interrupted. "I'll stay with the military until the attack begins. I can feed you intel and create a diversion to draw their forces away from the tower. Once the fighting starts, I'll join you."

"It's risky," Lyra said, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. "If they figure out what you're doing..."

"They won't," Dax said firmly. "Not until it's too late. And if this works, Lyra, it won't just be a victory for the rebellion. It'll be the end of the Soladren reign."

She exhaled, the weight of his words settling between them. "All right. I'll coordinate with the rebels. We'll get a team ready and move when you give the signal."

"Good," Dax said. "I'll contact you again tomorrow with more details. Until then, stay safe."

"You too," she replied softly. There was a pause, then: "Dax... thank you."

The line went dead, and Dax sat back, his heart pounding. The die was cast. For the first time in months, he felt a glimmer of hope—a fragile, dangerous thing, but enough to keep him moving forward. He switched off the communicator, stowing it in the hidden compartment beneath his bunk, and steeled himself for what was to come.