A low hum of disapproval filters faintly through the transmission channel.
“Clan Threx will escort,” the voice says at last. “You will answer before council.”
“I expected nothing less,” I reply.
The transmission cuts.
The sentry cruiser falls into formation off our starboard flank, engines flaring brighter now that formal escort is declared.
Elara exhales slowly. “That went… well?”
“For now,” I say.
She glances at the imposing escort ship beside us. “They don’t look thrilled.”
“They are not.”
As we move deeper into Ardyn territory, more signals light up across the navigation array. Clan vessels reposition. Patrol routes tighten. Not aggressive—yet—but alert.
War posture spreads fast in our sector. Faster than rumor. Faster than reason.
“They’re mobilizing too,” Elara says quietly, watching the tactical display populate with shifting ship signatures.
“Yes.”
“Your rivals will see this as justification.”
“Yes.”
The cruiser passes into the shadow of a massive asteroid belt, rock fragments tumbling slowly around us like the bones of something ancient and fractured. Beyond it, my home system comes into view—a dim red star with three orbiting resource worlds and a scattering of shipyards carved into asteroids.
As we approach the primary docking array, additional cruisers detach from shadowed perches and form a loose perimeter around us. None fire. None signal hostility.
But the message is clear.
We are being measured.
Docking clamps extend with a metallic groan as we settle into the bay carved directly into an asteroid’s core. The interior lights are harsh and white, illuminating scarred plating and the jagged architecture characteristic of my people—functional, unapologetic, unpolished.
The ramp lowers with a hydraulic hiss.
“Elara,” I say quietly, turning toward her. “Once we disembark, they will test you.”
“I gathered,” she replies dryly.
“Do not mistake volume for authority,” I continue.
She arches an eyebrow. “You think I scare easily?”
“I think you are unaccustomed to being challenged by warriors.”
Her mouth curves faintly. “Try me.”
Varek moves ahead of us down the ramp, spurs clicking sharply against metal decking. The docking bay smells faintly of ionized fuel and scorched alloy, heat lingering from recently powered-down engines. Warriors line the perimeter—tall, armored, silver spurs catching the overhead lights in sharp reflections.
Murmurs ripple through them when Elara steps into view beside me.
A human.
