The meeting room was an endless void, a sea of black broken only by three spheres of light. No greetings were exchanged, and no words were wasted, as each side focused solely on how to salvage the crumbling situation.

  “The Ebon Ring and the Shattered Veil report critical losses,” Vaelos-Xhialis began, her voice a thin monofilament cutting through the dark. “Nethros has severed seventy-two per cent of our current wartime production in the belts.”

  Several graphs materialized, showing the most recent data laid bare and the devastating impact of the recent attacks. “Facilities along sectors one to seventeen, nineteen to twenty-four and twenty-seven to sixty-five are lost, severing our supply chains and civil order among clans is deteriorating.”

  All of them could see that this wound would have the biggest impact on all operations in the solar system, affecting every major and minor operation.

  “The Ebon Ring’s weakness reflects the Shattered Veil’s lack of security,” Kelbor-Threxul growled, his voice a scraping tectonic shift.

  “None of us could have expected this outcome, we were certain that it wasn't capable of rapidly expanding beyond Phaedra and Imreth..”

  He hated showing weakness and excuses, he hated seeing his fortunes tangled with avoidable loss.

  “Assigning blame is pointless, at this point,” Oryss-Vezhiran said, his voice a hollow hum, emptier than before. “We need to focus on the consequences. The consortium is fracturing and captains are abandoning their obligations and going rogue.”

  All of them had the same shared thought of the lower castes they would have to bargain, as they could not survive without them holding Nethros back.

  They put it to a vote, and they all agreed to appease the clans, but no satisfaction came with the decision.

  “We must pay them more,” Vaelos-Xhialis said bitterly. “Contracted Nullite rights and generous offers to most of the desperate fools to ensure they will bleed for us if we dangle a large enough offer.”

  “A necessary evil,” Oryss-Vezhiran admitted. “Though the very thought disgusts me. Nullite is the artery of our conquest, to hand it to the rabble is to poison the next cycle of expansion.”

  “Their delusions can be corrected later,” Kelbor-Threxul said. “When Nethros falls, and we hold full control again, we retract the rights with force when the arc ship arrives.”

  “We tear out their hearts and take it all back,” Vaelos-Xhialis added, the thought a small pleasure in the grim equation.

  They all agreed this was all a temporary setback in their eyes and by eliminating the threat they could set everything right again

  Eventually, severing ties and eliminating those who breached their contracts and abandoned the fight would carry dire consequences for the rest.

  “But for all this to succeed, Nethros must be eliminated,” Kelbor-Threxul continued. “Our remaining facilities in the Ebon Ring are modifying asteroids and launching them on trajectories designed to shatter the moon and planet if the situation escalates.”

  “At a cost,” Vaelos-Xhialis said sharply. “Nullite veins on Phaedra and Imreth will be lost, erasing our estimated profits for decades to come.”

  How much had she invested? How many prospects had been tied to this venture, now reduced to collateral damage?

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Losses are inevitable,” Oryss-Vezhiran replied coldly. “Our survival is paramount, and rebuilding requires that we survive first.”

  And yet, every loss carved another piece of his future fortunes from this expensive venture, he might as well eliminate the other two if he survives.

  “There's been no trace of Aegirarch,” Vaelos-Xhialis said, bitterness leaking into her perfect voice. “No replies to broadband transmission requests. And further scans reveal nothing.”

  “Perhaps he chooses to stay hidden,” Kelbor-Threxul said, a low snarl beneath his words. “Perhaps he watches, waiting for us to all fall, so he may seize the ruins.”

  “It fits his nature, he is always calculating a way to achieve greater results,” Oryss-Vezhiran agreed.

  That was something that they all agreed on, these were dark times.

  “What do we know of Kraklak’s death,” Vaelos-Xhialis continued. “Was it an unfortunate error?”

  “Nethros raided several facilities and outposts in the region,” Kelbor-Threxul said, voice hard. “As far as we can tell, he could have been targeted or this was simply a random encounter”

  And yet, a flicker of regret gnawed at him. Kraklak had been reliable in a way few others were now.

  “His research into the BCUs did improve our fighting capabilities,” Oryss-Vezhiran added. “His loss will be missed, but at this point, his research could not bring in any new results.”

  Vaelos-Xhialis pulsed faintly, a silent thought passing between them about who could replace him to lead the science division.

  “And the last topic of discussion Ankrae must be forced to negotiate with Nethros,” Oryss-Vezhiran said, moving the meeting forward. “Her faction still represents a dangerous fraction of our remaining strength. Her refusal could embolden others to follow her.”

  “A strike team is currently approaching her position,” Kelbor-Threxul said. “She will either negotiate with Nethros or we will execute her and every member of her faction.”

  “Her fleet assets could bolster our collective security,” Vaelos-Xhialis added.

  “Expect the strike team to reach planet fall in the next six days,” Kelbor-Threxul said grimly. “Once they arrive they'll be able to secure her fleet and if negotiations fail we wipe out the threat.”

  “Good we will meet again once Ankrae is in custody or executed” Oryss-Vezhiran said.

  Their lights dimmed as the connection was severed.

  ———

  He felt… strange. In a way, he had never experienced it before.

  His mind was a haze, tangled and heavy, struggling to make sense of where he was. Only when he stirred did the dam burst memories flooding back in a rushing torrent.

  It all came crashing in within moments. Every fragment of his life, every buried memory, every regret he thought lost so vivid and so sharp it left him breathless. For a moment, he feared it was an illusion.

  No mind should remember so much, so clearly. Even the moments he wished had stayed forgotten clawed their way to the surface.

  Then came the realization he was free and mobile.

  He was… alive.

  Strange aquatic bioluminescent flora swayed around him, it was alien and unfamiliar. He turned slowly, spotting his exo-suit lying some distance away, half-sunken in the silt.

  Something deep and instinctive urged him forward. His body obeyed before he even thought to move. Within minutes, he was suited up, waiting as the systems rebooted with sluggish, flickering pulses.

  Final memories resurfaced like ghosts, the last battle, the desperate choice, the black void. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Was this reality… or just another etheric mirage?

  He swam upwards through the water, ascending toward a faint light. As he broke the surface, he knew instantly — this was no dream.

  The walls were slick with that cursed grey resin pulsing slightly as if breathing. And waiting for him, still, as a statue, was a humanoid BCU.

  Its black, unblinking eyes locked onto him, and a chill ran down his spine.

  The creature said nothing. It merely turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the heavy, wet silence.

  He hesitated.

  “Am I supposed to… go somewhere?” he called out, half to himself.

  Not yet, a voice replied inside his mind.

  He yelped, stumbling back into the water with a clumsy splash. Scrambling, he regained control of the suit and shot back up, frantically looking around — but the corridor remained empty. No one was there.

  “Where are you?” he demanded, his voice bouncing off the resinous walls.

  He knew the voice. It was Trumek. But how?

  I am within your mind. Servitude comes with its costs.

  He froze the truth settled on him.

  Freedom always comes with a price.

  “I see,” he muttered bitterly. “So what do I do now?”

  A convoy will arrive shortly. It will transport you to your outpost — far from any future battlefields.

  The thought of travelling again in one of those wretched biological pods made his stomach twist. He shoved the memory away the stifling, wet walls closing around him — he focused instead on the present.

  Before he could dwell any further, the BCU returned, this time accompanied by a clone.

  He blinked in surprise.

  Already?

  Has the next generation rebelled too?

  Neither spoke they merely gestured for him to follow.

  Through resinous tunnels and narrow corridors, they led him upward until at last he breached the surface — into a world hammered by a heavy downpour.

  His suit’s readings immediately blared warnings: Acidic rainfall detected.

  It slicked over his armour in hissing sheets as he was guided toward a waiting convoy of hauliers.

  He boarded one without protest, seating himself among crates stacked high with supplies.

  The clones wore their helmets, their silence absolute.

  He could only sit there, awkward, as the convoy roared into motion, hurtling through the storm.

  He passed the time running diagnostics on his suit, checking and rechecking — anything to fill the gnawing silence.

  Your first task, Trumek’s voice slithered back into his mind unexpectedly, will be to preserve any surviving Valurian artefacts.

  He jerked upright, startled, and tumbled into a stack of crates.

  The clones didn’t even flinch. They kept working, quietly organizing the supplies.

  “O-okay, I can do that,” he said, straightening himself out. “Is… is that all I’ll be doing?”

  No.

  When this war ends, you will begin the exploration of the uncharted regions.

  He sat back against the cold metal wall, feeling the weight of his new orders settles deep into his bones.

  Freedom had come.

  But it had chained him to something far greater… and far more dangerous.