The silence of Maximilian's Central Command was broken not by the distant roar of a turbine or the sharp crack of an order, but by the nervous rustle of fine merchant silks. Operation: Golden Cage—the brilliant, insidious commercial subjugation of the Kath Empire—was in full swing, but geopolitics rarely respects a schedule. Max, perpetually focused on the holographic map, looked up as Ambassador Theron ushered in a visitor: Colin Oswald.
The man presented himself with a bow that was meticulous yet strained, clearly unused to the humiliation of pleading. He claimed to be a merchant, but his demeanor suggested a fall from much greater heights.
"Pro-Consul Maximilian," Colin began, his voice surprisingly steady despite his obvious distress. "I come to you not as a merchant, but as a prince in exile. I am Colin Oswald, true heir to the throne of Quarth."
Max leaned back, assessing the man with cold, analytical eyes. "Quarth. One of the minor constituents of the Kingdom Alliance. The collection of principalities that just welcomed the Zanzeer Kingdom into their fold."
"Indeed," Colin confirmed, his jaw tightening. "My father, the King, passed a few years ago. I was set to inherit, but the nobility—the entrenched, old mages—saw weakness. My magical prowess was deemed too weak to rule in their eyes, an insult to their heritage. They staged a swift, bloodless coup and installed my uncle. I was lucky to escape with my life and a fraction of my wealth. Now, I am just a merchant, circling the edge of my own borders."
Colin stepped forward, his plea ringing with desperate sincerity. "Pro-Consul, you represent the future—Order and Technology over outdated, chaotic arcane tradition. They fear you. I respect you. I plead that you help me reclaim the throne. I will bring Quarth out of the Kingdom Alliance and into the orbit of Scorpia. I will be your vassal."
Maximilian listened, his expression impassive, but internally, the gears of the machine were spinning rapidly. This was a perfect opportunity: a chance to sow internal conflict within the hostile Kingdom Alliance without expending a single Scorpian soldier. It was an annex via proxy, executed with surgical political precision.
Max finally spoke, his voice measured and authoritative. "A compelling proposal, Prince Colin. Scorpia deals only in quantifiable exchange. We will not commit our military divisions, but we will supply the tools necessary for your success. We will supply you with thousands of our most effective, kinetic weaponry: muskets and Napoleonic cannons."
Colin's eyes widened, recognizing the devastating potential of such weapons against the Quarth nobility's traditional swords and staff magic. "That would be… revolutionary, Pro-Consul. And the training?"
"We will provide highly trained, discrete military contractors—veterans of the Central Region campaigns—to oversee the training for Colin's men," Max confirmed. "They will teach them discipline, basic infantry tactics, and, crucially, how to utilize black powder weaponry to suppress an unshielded mage force. Now, for the price of sovereignty."
Max steepled his fingers, outlining the financial arrangements that would bind Quarth irrevocably to Scorpia. "Upon your ascension, you will immediately allow Scorpia to develop the rich mineral sector of the Quarth economy—metals, rare earth elements, whatever resources your old nobility has ignored. This extraction and development will be managed entirely by Scorpian corporations under our direct supervision."
He continued, laying out the profit split with cold precision: "Of the net profits generated from the Quarth mineral sector, Scorpia would receive forty percent for our organizational and logistical services. The Quarth Kingdom would receive fifty percent—more than enough to rebuild your military and enrich your citizens. One percent would go to an international charity fund—a vital piece of good publicity for the new regime. And the remaining nine percent will go to Pro-Consul Maximilian directly." The personal cut was Max's guarantee against incompetence and a reward for high-risk political maneuvering.
The cost for the infrastructure was equally non-negotiable. "Furthermore, the archaic infrastructure of Quarth is a liability. Scorpia would also be responsible for building all new roads, power grids, and sanitation infrastructure, for a fee, of course, paid via long-term contracts tied to the fifty percent national mineral revenue. Quarth will pay for its own modernization, executed flawlessly under Scorpian supervision."
Finally, Max offered the ultimate token of dependence, mirroring the successful trade strategy used against the Kath Empire. "And to ensure rapid logistical capacity and regional dominance for your forces, we will sell you airships. They will be the phased-out models—logistical haulers, without weapons or shields—but they will give you air superiority over your enemies and the means to enforce internal security. The sale will be immediate and substantial."
Colin Oswald, the exiled prince, saw not servitude, but salvation. The deal was exploitative, binding, and absolute, yet it offered him the throne and his kingdom stability. He bowed deeply, his voice choked with emotion. "Pro-Consul Maximilian. You have my solemn, absolute agreement. Quarth is yours to manage."
The operation was greenlit. A new vector of attack had been launched against the Kingdom Alliance, substituting muskets and profit margins for missiles and direct military intervention.