The stars were still. Beyond the observation deck of the Erebus, an endless expanse of shimmering light stretched into infinity. Alina Voss leaned against the railing, the faint hum of the ship's systems a constant companion. It was a sound she had grown to love-steady, dependable, and alive. The galaxy was healing. Years had passed since the final battles of the war that had threatened to tear everything apart. Planets once ravaged by conflict were now bustling with reconstruction efforts. Trade routes reopened, bringing a fragile prosperity to systems that had known only scarcity. It was progress, Alina reminded herself, but progress came with its own dangers. "Captain," a familiar voice broke through her thoughts. Commander Lysander Rigg stepped into the observation deck, datapad in hand. His face, weathered and sharp, betrayed a weariness that mirrored her own. "We've received another report from the Galian system. It seems the negotiations between the Kalyrians and the Beltharans have stalled. Again." Alina sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. "Stalled or collapsed?" "Both, depending on who you ask. The Beltharans claim the Kalyrians are reneging on resource agreements. The Kalyrians accuse the Beltharans of leveraging trade to starve their outposts. Neither side seems willing to meet in the middle." "Typical," Alina muttered. "We can't keep holding their hands forever. The Erebus wasn't built to play mediator." "No, but without us, they'll tear each other apart. You know how fragile the alliances are. One system falls, the others start to question the entire foundation of the Accord." She turned back to the viewport, staring at the stars. "What about the rest of the Shadow Fleet? Have they reported any significant threats?" "Scattered skirmishes, A few rogue fleets still refusing to disarm.
Hinweis: Dieser Artikel kann nur an eine deutsche Lieferadresse ausgeliefert werden.
Hinweis: Dieser Artikel kann nur an eine deutsche Lieferadresse ausgeliefert werden.