The silence in the Duke’s office was a physical thing, thick and heavy. The holographic cityscape beyond the glass wall painted Alistair’s strained face in cold, shifting light.

“I had no part in it, Marius,” Alistair said again, his voice low and urgent. He kept his hands open on the desk, a gesture of surrender. “The attack on Artanis… House Laurien moved on their own accord. I swear it. I would never betray Arturus like that. He is my friend.”

Marius—his mind still grappling with the dissonance of hearing his own name in Sara Kerigan’s voice—watched him intently. The Duke’s fear had been real, but this… this had the ring of truth, or a superb performance. “Then who gave them the opening? Who looked the other way while a Core World burned?”

Alistair leaned forward, his composure cracking to reveal genuine frustration. “The Dominion. It has to be. In the last six months, they’ve deployed full battalions of Dominion Marines to ‘garrison’ coreworlds under the new integration decree. Including mine. They arrived with sealed orders, answerable only to the Imperial Liaison. When the news from Artanis broke, they said nothing. Absolutely nothing. And when I demanded answers, the Liaison’s office became a wall of polite, silent avoidance.”

He met Marius’s eyes, his own gleaming with a sincerity that cut through the political veneer. “I am many things, Marius. An opportunist, a pragmatist. But I am not a fratricide. I will not betray my friend.”

Marius processed the information, the pieces clicking into a darker, more terrifying picture than simple House rivalry. “Has Arturus made contact with you? Since the attack?”

“No,” Alistair said, a shadow crossing his face. “Not a word. I’ve sent encrypted pulses into the void for weeks. Only silence comes back.”

For a long moment, Marius just stared. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he stood up from where he’d been leaning over the Duke and took a step back, giving him space. The implicit threat in his posture dissolved. He believed him.

Alistair let out a shaky breath, straightening his jacket as he rose from his chair. He tried to assume a normal stance, but his eyes were now sharp with a technician’s curiosity, scanning the woman before him. He took a tentative step closer.

“This disguise…” Alistair murmured, his gaze tracing the line of Sara’s jaw, the subtle curve of her throat. “It’s not holographic. …