The Ark slipped back into realspace with a hum, its battered hull reflecting the light of a blue-white star. Before them glimmered Cindralis Station, a massive trade hub carved into an asteroid and wrapped in golden plating that gleamed like a jewel in the void.
Kael studied it from the command chair, his expression wary. "Never thought I'd set foot here again. Cindralis eats men alive."
Rhea leaned on the console, smirking. "Station full of crime lords, corporate princes, and ex-Council aristocrats? Sounds like home to me."
Lyra stood beside Kael, eyes narrowed. "It feels… wrong. Too polished. Too quiet. Like a predator waiting."
Kael nodded. "That's exactly what it is. But if we want the Frontier to unite, we need Cindralis. Their trade guilds feed half the colonies."
As if on cue, the comm crackled with a silken voice."Unidentified Ark-class vessel, this is Cindralis Station Authority. Identify yourself and state your purpose—or prepare to be taxed for loitering."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Taxed. Of course."
Kael opened the channel. "This is Captain Kael Ardyn. I request audience with the Trade Guild Council."
A pause. Then a smooth laugh."Ardyn, you say? Oh, this will be interesting. Docking clearance granted—at a premium."
The Ark glided into one of the station's cavernous docking bays, greeted not by soldiers but by sleek attendants in gilded uniforms. Perfumed air and artificial sunlight spilled across the landing platform.
Kael disembarked with Lyra and Rhea, surrounded instantly by bustling merchants and curious onlookers.
"This place reeks of excess," Lyra murmured, eyeing the polished marble floor beneath her boots.
Rhea snorted. "That's the scent of credits, sweetheart. Don't breathe too deep—you'll choke."
They were escorted through glittering corridors into a grand hall of mirrors and chandeliers, where the Trade Guild Council awaited: twelve figures draped in silks and jewels, each more ostentatious than the last.
At their center sat Guildmaster Corven, a rotund man with sharp eyes and a smile like a knife.
"Captain Kael Ardyn," he purred. "The exile. The traitor's brother. To what do we owe this… fascinating visit?"
Kael forced himself to remain steady. "You've heard of Taren Ardyn. The Ghost Admiral."
Whispers rippled through the chamber at the name.
"He's building a fleet that will tear through the Frontier. Havenreach stands with us already. I'm here to ask the same of you."
Corven chuckled, swirling his jeweled ring. "Ask? My dear captain, you don't ask Cindralis. You bargain. So tell me—what do you offer in exchange for our protection?"
Rhea muttered under her breath, "Here we go…"
Kael met Corven's gaze. "Freedom. A galaxy not ruled by tyrants."
The council erupted in laughter. Corven clapped his hands like a delighted child. "Oh, charming! But freedom doesn't pay docking fees, captain. Credits do. Influence does. Leverage does."
Lyra stepped forward, her voice cutting through the mirth. "If you side with Taren out of greed, you'll find your riches turned to ash. He won't share power. He'll take everything."
For the first time, the chamber quieted. Corven's smile thinned. "And what makes you so certain, my dear?"
Lyra's eyes glimmered faintly, the Ark's echo whispering through her voice. "Because I've seen what he'll do. I've touched the memory of his fleet. He brings only ruin."
Uneasy murmurs spread among the council.
Corven waved a dismissive hand. "Visions and riddles. We deal in certainties here."
That evening, as Kael and his crew were housed in gilded guest chambers, a visitor arrived unannounced.
A tall woman in a crimson cloak stepped through the door, flanked by silent guards. Her presence commanded the room instantly.
"I am Lady Serenya," she said, voice low and smooth. "Second to Guildmaster Corven. And unlike him, I believe you."
Kael exchanged a wary glance with Lyra. "Then why approach us in secret?"
Serenya's smile was faint. "Because Corven is already negotiating with your brother."
The words hit Kael like a physical blow. "Taren? He's been here?"
"Not in person. But his envoys arrived weeks ago. He promises Cindralis unrestricted trade across the colonies once he conquers them. Corven is tempted."
Rhea cursed. "Of course he is. Fat bastard probably dreams of swimming in credits."
Serenya's eyes flicked to Kael. "But some of us see further. If the Ghost Admiral wins, Cindralis will be nothing but a pawn. If you win… perhaps there's a future worth investing in."
Kael's jaw tightened. "And what do you want in return?"
Her smile sharpened. "When the dust settles, a place at your side in whatever new order rises. Power, Captain. Nothing more, nothing less."
The next night, Kael attended a banquet thrown by Corven. Gold-plated tables sagged beneath mountains of food, and fountains of wine bubbled endlessly. Music swelled from hidden speakers while masked dancers twirled across marble floors.
Kael sat stiffly, refusing the goblet pressed into his hand. Lyra, seated beside him, scanned the room with quiet suspicion.
Halfway through the feast, one of the councilors collapsed, frothing at the mouth. Chaos erupted—shouts, overturned dishes, guards rushing in.
Rhea was the first to react, shoving Kael's goblet aside. "Poison. Someone's targeting you."
Lyra seized his arm, pulling him away just as another guest crumpled.
Through the uproar, Kael caught Corven watching him with narrowed eyes—not shocked, not horrified, but calculating.
Serenya appeared at his side, her cloak swirling. "This is what I warned you of. Corven doesn't intend to choose between you and Taren. He intends to play both until one kills the other."
Later that night, assassins struck. Figures in black infiltrated the guest chambers, blades gleaming with venom.
Kael fought with brutal precision, disarming one attacker and driving his own weapon through the man's chest. Rhea cut down another with twin daggers.
Lyra stood in the center, eyes blazing as she unleashed a pulse of energy that sent the remaining assassins crashing against the walls.
Breathing hard, Kael stared down at the bodies. His voice was grim. "Corven wanted us dead before we could sway his council."
Serenya stepped out of the shadows, her eyes cold. "Then perhaps it's time for new leadership."
Kael narrowed his gaze. "You mean you."
She didn't deny it. "Help me remove Corven, and Cindralis will join your alliance. Fail—and Taren will claim this station without firing a shot."
Kael stood at a crossroads: accept Serenya's ruthless offer and topple a corrupt leader, or risk leaving Cindralis in Taren's grasp.
Beside him, Lyra's hand brushed his, silent but grounding. Rhea simply muttered, "Politics. I hate politics."
Kael's voice was low, steady. "Then tomorrow, we find out if we're diplomats—or executioners."
The lights of Cindralis gleamed outside the viewport, beautiful and deadly.