Morning on Deoxy Prime came without warmth.
The red star showed through the atmosphere as a dull red smear, turning the sky the color of rusted metal. Sirens signaled shift change across the capital, low mechanical sounds rolling between towers. Military transports moved slowly through the sky, leaving dirty trails that lingered in the thin air.
Inside the governor's fortress, the council chamber doors opened.
One by one, the leaders of the Deoxy Region entered.
Administrator Garran Voss came first. Broad shoulders. Hard expression. A faint bruise still marked his jaw from the earlier incident. He walked straight in, boots hitting the floor like heavy strikes.
He did not look at anyone.
Commodore Hale followed, his mechanical arm adjusting with a soft whir. Director Lysa Ren entered while reading an active data slate, eyes moving through information only she could see. Doctor Selene slipped in quietly, scanning the room like she expected someone to collapse at any moment.
Commander Ilya took a place near the wall instead of sitting. Habit, not defiance. Administrators Pell and Venn arrived last, whispering to each other until Voss's presence silenced them.
Seven seats.
Seven people holding together a damaged command structure.
Then Eli entered.
All conversation stopped.
He wore no formal clothing. Just a dark frontier coat reinforced at the shoulders, practical boots, no visible weapons. His face was calm and unreadable. His eyes were sharper than before.
He did not sit.
Instead, he walked to the head of the table, where no chair had been placed, and rested his hands lightly on the surface.
"Administrator Voss," he said.
Everyone looked at the big man.
Voss raised his head slowly. Cautious, not hostile.
Eli inclined his head slightly.
"I owe you an apology."
Silence filled the room.
Selene's eyes widened. Hale froze mid movement. Even Ren looked up from her slate.
Voss blinked once.
"The journey here was difficult," Eli continued. "I was injured. Disoriented. Working with incomplete information. My actions on arrival were unnecessarily aggressive."
Calm. Controlled.
"I regret how I introduced myself."
The words were clear and formal.
Voss watched him for a long moment, then leaned back, folding his arms.
"You threw me through a reinforced window," he said.
"Yes."
"And now you apologize."
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then one corner of Voss's mouth lifted in a rough, approving grin.
"Hmph. Better than most nobles. They usually pretend nothing happened."
Tension eased slightly across the room.
Not friendship.
But no longer open hostility.
Eli straightened.
"We have more important matters."
Ren tapped her slate. "Beast migration has shifted north. Two supply convoys intercepted this month. Pirate activity in orbit up twenty three percent."
Hale spoke next. "Mech readiness at sixty eight percent. Spare parts delayed from the Core."
Venn added, "Mining output down. Too many sites abandoned."
Pell swallowed. "Logistics are strained. Another lost hub means rationing."
Selene tightened her grip on the table. "Medical supplies are already low. I cannot handle another large casualty event."
The problems stacked up.
A region slowly failing.
Eli listened without interrupting, studying each speaker, not just their words but their tone. Fear. Fatigue. Frustration.
Finally, he looked at Voss.
"You deal with the beasts most," he said. "Your assessment."
Voss leaned forward.
"They're getting bolder," he said. "Smarter. Packs coordinating across territories that used to be separate. Something is driving them or leading them."
Not random.
Organized pressure.
"Your father noticed it before his last inspection," Voss added. "Said it didn't feel natural."
Eli's heartbeat grew heavier for a moment.
"And this was not forwarded to the Core?"
Voss gave a short, humorless laugh. "It was. Response time from the Core takes months. Out here, problems kill you long before answers arrive."
Several leaders nodded grimly.
Frontier reality.
Voss leaned back, studying Eli closely.
"You want to understand this place?" he said. "You want people to follow you?"
He pointed toward the window and the endless wilderness beyond.
"Stop reading reports. Your father lived in the battlefield"
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
"Come see it."
The room went still.
Selene spoke first, alarmed. "Administrator, that is not advisable—"
"I am serious," Voss said. "We launch a hunt tonight. Major incursion near Outpost Kestrel. Perfect chance."
Ilya straightened immediately, interest clear on his face.
Hale frowned. "High risk operation."
"Exactly," Voss said. "Best way to learn."
He looked straight at Eli.
"Unless the Warden prefers safety behind walls."
A direct challenge.
Selene lowered her voice. "My lord, you have barely recovered."
Ren watched silently, expression unreadable.
Carrow stood by the door, alert but still.
Something stirred in Eli's chest. Not fear. Not excitement.
Recognition.
The wilderness calling to something inside him.
He met Voss's eyes.
"When do we leave?" he asked.
A fierce grin spread across the big man's face.
"Thirty six hours."