Chapter 6: The Six Forms
There was no room for argument. Varun's voice carried authority—the kind that brooked no hesitation, no questions. It wasn't loud, but it didn't have to be. It was the voice of someone used to being obeyed.
Orion's fingers hovered over the screen, the words "Confirm Data Purge?" flashing before him. He hesitated, not out of defiance but calculation. Information was power. Wiping the analysis meant erasing something potentially invaluable. But Varun wasn't someone who gave orders lightly.
A flick of his fingers. DATA PURGED.
The interface blinked once before the screen went dark, as if the act itself carried weight.
Only then did Varun exhale, his shoulders loosening—fractionally. But his eyes remained sharp, watchful, as if scanning Orion for any trace of resistance.
Orion didn't like this.
"What was that about?" His voice was even, but there was an edge to it, a demand for answers.
Varun didn't reply immediately. Instead, he reached into his coat and retrieved a small, unmarked identicard. He tossed it onto the table between them, the subtle clink of metal-on-glass cutting through the tense silence.
Orion picked it up. The card pulsed faintly under his fingertips, its embedded security systems recognizing a new holder. The Confederacy's insignia was absent—no rank, no name, just an advanced piece of technology with no clear origin.
"This will give you access to superior computing power," Varun said. "And more secure analysis—something normally reserved for Generals and high-ranking officials."
Orion turned the card over, feeling the weight of it. Not physical weight, but the significance of what was being offered. This wasn't just access. This was trust. A dangerous kind of trust.