Countermoves

In Mounting Tensions, no conversation is ever just a conversation. Power shifts with every breath, behind closed doors, between veiled smiles, and through every carefully chosen word. In this latest installment, our focus returns to Rylan, who walks a tightrope between trust and secrecy. While recent chapters have explored Darvin’s dealings with the pilots bound for colony worlds, this time, a figure from Rylan’s past reemerges: Liam, his former commander.

As is often the case in this series, we don’t open with violence, but with something far more dangerous, a polite visit, loaded with veiled threats and unspoken accusations. What begins as a quiet intrusion quickly unravels into a duel of implication, revelation, and high-stakes maneuvering. Rylan must remain composed or risk exposing the plans he’s worked so carefully to conceal.

Read on as Liam barges into Rylan’s sanctuary with sharpened suspicion. Will Rylan crack under Liam’s pressure? Or will he deflect the hunt and keep his agenda intact?

The creaking door tugged Rylan’s focus away from his work. He drew in a sharp breath as his eyes closed. Footsteps announced his visitor, his onetime commander, Liam. The former captain shut the door with a soft click, before walking towards him. It had been years, but Liam’s measured gait hadn’t changed. Rylan remembered it from their mission to Laria. It was unhurried yet burdened by a powerful presence and filled with purpose.

Without an exchange of pleasantries, Liam helped himself to the free chair across from Rylan. He smoothed a crease in his sleeve while laying a foot across his knee. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

Despite no longer reporting to him, Rylan slipped into the old rhythm they’d shared while crossing the stars to investigate Laria’s fate. He slid his tablet aside, forcing an emotionless smile to his face as he interlaced his fingers. With a deep breath, he rested them on his lap and gave Liam a slight nod. “You’re acting like any of us possess ample free time.”

Liam let Rylan’s quip hang in the air like a piece of art to scrutinize. He studied the office’s modest décor, his gaze lingering on the painting Annabelle had insisted Rylan hang within his office. The landscape was unassuming to most, yet it held a simple reminder of the influence Rylan wielded over a dwindling portion of the council. While the coalition wasn’t powerful, it was more influence than Liam liked seeing in Rylan’s hands.

“I always knew you had ambitions,” Liam said, resting a hand on his dangling knee. He brushed his jacket as his lips curled into a sinister smile. “However, I didn’t think a former repair technician could wield influence so deftly. It must be your wife’s influence.”