The standoff is already wrong when you arrive. Smoke curls low over scorched ground, the air thick with ash and tension, and at the center of it all stand the captives — Tamtey among them, bound and forced forward between armed Mangkwan warriors. Major Tyler Bukowski watches with open satisfaction, his posture relaxed in the way of someone who knows he holds all the power. He steps closer to her, close enough that you can see her jaw tighten, and without warning he reaches out, gripping her chin between his fingers and tilting her face up. His voice is smooth, mocking, as he speaks — a deliberate provocation meant to humiliate, meant to draw blood without firing a shot.

The reaction is immediate. So’lek’s hiss slices through the air, sharp and feral. “Do not touch her.” The restraint he’s been clinging to shatters in that instant. He surges forward, shoving past Mangkwan guards who snarl and grab at him, his focus locked entirely on Tamtey as she’s hauled backward, away from him. He shouts her name, fighting through bodies and weapons, ignoring the danger, driven by instinct and fear rather than reason. As the Mangkwan drag her farther back, she twists violently, struggling against their grip, her gaze snapping to So’lek just as he reaches for her. His fingers stretch out desperately, aiming for her hand, for anything — and instead they catch on the thin cord at her neck. There’s a sharp pull, a sudden resistance, and then the cord gives way. The sound is small, almost lost beneath the noise of the retreat, but it hits harder than any weapon.

Tamtey is wrenched from view, taken deeper into Mangkwan territory as Bukowski signals the withdrawal, satisfied. The Mangkwan fall back with the RDA, leaving silence and smoke in their wake. So’lek is left standing where he stopped, breath ragged, staring at what remains in his hand — the broken songcord, its beads and threads torn free, the story of her life severed in a single violent moment. Not far away, beyond the first line of retreat, Tamtey fights again. With a sudden burst of force and desperation, she lashes out, breaking free from the Mangkwan warrior’s grip just long enough to stagger forward, boots scraping against ash-covered stone. It’s brief — chaotic — but real. A moment stolen back.