A storm was coming.
Not of fire or steel—but of credits and contracts, and it had no face, only a color.
Scarlet.
Kairos stared at the black card once more, fingers brushing the embossed sigil of the three serpents. The room around him—the bridge of the Unyielding Trust—felt heavier with silence.
They were watching.
But someone else was moving.
Suspicion in the Council
When the Unyielding Trust docked back at Prime Orbit, the Council was already in session.
T'rana Jex had called it.
"The Artifact Trade Routes in Sector Theta-4 are collapsing," she reported. "Convoys are vanishing. Our trade partners are panicking. And it's not pirates."
Kessie Varn leaned forward, translucent fingertips interlaced. "It's too clean. No wreckage. No raider signals. Whatever's taking those shipments… they want to remain invisible."
Mara Quill's voice was grim. "We're not dealing with random scavengers. This is orchestrated."
