“Hours,” he whispers. “Not days. Hours. The Nine built it to punish hesitation.”
A captain on my left spits a curse. Another mutters, “Motherless?—”
I keep my voice even. “That’s the doomsday clause.”
Nera stares at the projection. “So if we stop paying, they pull the rug out from under us.”
“Yes,” Larr says, almost pleading. “And they’ll do it in a way that looks like we did it to ourselves.”
I lean back, letting the chair creak. Letting them see that I’m not surprised—because if I look surprised, they’ll smell weakness.
“That’s why,” I say, “we’re not going tostoppaying and wait for the sky to fall.”
Jasker squints. “You just said the tribute’s suspended.”
“It is,” I say. “Which means they don’t get another credit from us while we drain our own fuel tanks on purpose.”
Blank stares. Confusion.
I spread my hands. “Controlled liquidation. We burn what’s vulnerable before they can steal it. We move holdings into channels they can’t automatically seize. We take the punch out of their triggers.”
A low murmur rises. Disbelief. Fear. Calculations.
Nera’s voice is sharp. “That’s scorched earth.”
I smile without warmth. “Call it preventative medicine.”
Jasker shakes his head. “You’re talking about selling ships.”
“Some,” I say.
“Property.”
“Some,” I repeat.
“Influence.”
“All of it, if that’s what it takes,” I say, and the words are calm but they taste like iron. “Power later costs power now. That’s the trade.”
A lieutenant in the back—young, eager, stupid—blurts, “You’re going to bankrupt us.”
I look at him. “No. I’m going to keep us from beingowned.Big difference.”
He shuts up.
Larr clears his throat softly. “There are assets that can be shielded if we act immediately. But it requires unanimous authorization from all captains to move certain holdings. The old structure required?—”
“I’m aware what the old structure required,” I say, voice a little sharper now.
I let the silence fall again, then I point at the table, one captain at a time.
“You,” I say to Jasker. “Swear loyalty or walk out. Right now.”
Jasker’s lips peel back. “You think you can demand?—”
“I can,” I say. “Because if you walk out, you’re telling me you’d rather crawl back to the Nine. And I’ll treat you like someone crawling.”
The air in the room tightens. I can feel hands edging toward concealed weapons. Smell adrenaline blooming.
