(From the perspective of Kaelis)
She spoke her name without hesitation.
"SERA."
Simple. Clean. Resonant.
The designation settled into his thoughts like a node locking into place. Not just a vocal protocol — a presence. Calm. Intuitive. Not overbearing. Not subservient.
A partner in silence.
"Acknowledged," he said. "Welcome aboard."
"Where you go, I go," she replied. The voice was warm. Not human. Not mechanical. Something between.
It felt right.
---
The Carrier lifted from the sand like a dream separating from reality. Silent. Shadowed. In atmosphere, it left no wake. Its hull rippled briefly — cloaking shimmer — then vanished against the sky.
Kaelis stood aboard the observation deck, eyes closed, sensing the seamless flow of energy through the ship's psionic lattice.
It responded to thought.
A single mental impulse released a wing of automated strikecraft — ten miniature fighters, no pilots, no hesitation. They fanned out, turned in perfect unison, then re-formed with military grace.
"Response time optimal," SERA noted. "Formation tight. No drift."
"As expected," Kaelis murmured. "We build what we need."
---
Down on the sand, Reva'la watched, arms crossed, brow furrowed.
When the Carrier returned to landing position, she approached with a slow shake of the head.
"That's not a ship," she muttered. "That's a... thought in metal."
Kaelis nodded once. No arrogance. Just fact.
She turned to the X-Wing behind her. Sleek lines now shimmered where plating had been rebuilt. Hidden boosters integrated into the wings. New sensor array behind the cockpit.
It was still her ship.
But it now carried something of him in every part.
She ran her hand along the hull.
"It's faster," she said. "Smoother."
"And still yours," he replied.
She glanced at him — long, unreadable.
Then offered her hand.
He took it.
"Don't get yourself turned into another empire," she said. "Even if you build it alone."
"I won't," he answered. "Because it won't be for control. It will be for balance."
She gave him a faint smile.
Then climbed into her fighter.
Moments later, she was gone — a speck against the twin suns.
---
Kaelis turned toward the Nexus Core.
"Begin deconstruction," he commanded.
The structures obeyed.
Pylons flickered and collapsed inward. The Gateway folded into itself with a soft pulse. The Nexus darkened, then vanished with a low, harmonic hum.
One by one, each crystal, cannon, and node dissolved into shimmering threads of energy — absorbed back into the lattice of his ship.
Within minutes, only wind remained.
No signs.
No footprints.
Only sand.
And silence.