A lone figure strode across the broad expanse of Alfa Station’s shipyard.
The station’s upper docks were alive with noise—humming repulsors, screeching chs, crews shouting orders as cranes lifted armored plating into place. Yet his attention was fixed on one particular vessel.
The ship before him glead under the artificial lights, transford after days of relentless modifications. Fresh hull plating reinforced its battered fra, gleaming with the silver hue of newly slted alloys. Turrets lined the flanks where gaps had once been, sleek new navigation arrays humd faintly from the prow. Most striking of all, the crude blue skull insignia that once scarred its bow was gone. In its place stretched a stylized wolf, rendered in black and silver, maw open in a silent snarl. It radiated nace, a predator reborn.
The figure allowed himself a rare flicker of satisfaction.
"Captain, you’re back!"
Two n approached swiftly. One was lean and sharp-eyed, Varrek. The other was broad-shouldered, carrying himself like a brawler, Brollak.
"Everything in order?" he asked.
Brollak grinned broadly, his excitent practically vibrating through his thick fra. "More than in order! Weapons calibrated, engines tuned. She’ll be spaceworthy in hours."
Varrek, however, did not share the enthusiasm.
"Captain," he said slowly, lowering his voice. "The registration is complete. We’ll have no trouble with Alliance checkpoints under the new na." He handed over a small dataslate, its surface pulsing faintly with the official mark of the Alliance registry. "Voidwolf is cleared for travel."
"Then what’s the problem?"
"It’s just... I’ve heard whispers... People are asking questions about us. I think we’d better leave sooner rather than later."
The man’s expression barely shifted, but his eyes sharpened. "I see. Perhaps the sa people who’ve been following ."
Before either of them could say more, a ripple of commotion broke out at the far end of the dock. The sharp rhythm of boots striking steel rang out, echoing through the shipyard. Two dozen figures erged in disciplined formation, their presence like a storm cutting through the bustle of the station.
They were magus, their black-and-crimson uniforms marked with the unmistakable sigils of the Imperium. A few wore heavy armor, their pauldrons glowing faintly with inscribed runes. The sight alone made nearby dockhands scatter like startled birds.
"Space Knight!!"
Station guards rushed forward, raising their hands. "What’s going on here?"
However, they were brushed aside without effort. At the column’s head strode a grand magus in an officer’s uniform. He displayed his credentials like a blade. His voice cut through the air, sharp with authority.
"I am Major Taka of the Imperium Enforcers. We are here on official orders to detain Magus Ery Ambrose!"
The ’Voidwolf’s’ crew froze. Shock rippled through them before instinct tightened their ranks. n spilled from the ship, standing shoulder to shoulder with Varrek and Brollak, weapons at the ready, eyes waiting on their captain.
Major Taka sneered, gesturing between the hologram and the figure at the fore. "Hmph. Thought you could escape us by changing a ship’s markings and bleaching your hair white? Do you think the Alliance enforcers are fools?" He jabbed a finger at the man, "You, and every last mber of your crew, are under arrest!"
The man with white hair t his gaze calmly, his tone unhurried, steady as stone.
"I think you’ve got the wrong person,"
###
At the sa ti, in the lower-level slums of Alfa Station, an identical-looking figure sat inside a dimly lit room. His dark hair and familiar features marked him as Ery, yet this was clearly not the sa man who stood at the docks.
Around him lounged half a dozen magus. Their auras pressed on the air like lead, and one among them radiated the unmistakable weight of the grand magus realm. The atmosphere was suffocating, more interrogation than a eting.
The one addressing him was a thin magus with a sly smile, his tone falsely polite.
"Master Ery, your product is truly remarkable... I must admit, I am a great admirer."
The dark-haired Ery leaned back in his chair, annoyance flashing across his face. His voice was sharp, impatient.
"I ca because your n promised an ’amazing offer.’ Yet so far, I’ve seen nothing but wasted ti. What exactly do you think you’re showing ?"
"Oh, I have a great offer indeed." The thin magus drew out a glass vial and held it between two fingers. Inside glead a pill with dark and light glints—instantly recognizable. It was Ery’s own creation: the [Dual Refinent Pill], fresh from the auction house.
"I’ll be direct," the man continued smoothly. "I want the recipe for this miracle pill. Na your price, and we will pay it."
The dark-haired Ery’s gaze swept over the room, counting the hostile faces, reading the tension in their stances. His lips twisted into a bitter half-smile.
"Judging by your friends here... I suppose ’no’ isn’t really an option, is it?"
"You are a clever one." The thin magus chuckled, turning to his crew. At his unspoken cue, the others joined in, their laughter filling the room with a low, nacing rhythm. "It’s always easier to negotiate with clever people."
Ery exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself, then said with asured words,
"There must be laws against this sort of extortion. Unless you intend to provoke the Apothecary Association? Who are you people, to act this boldly? Do you really think you can get away with it?"
The thin magus leaned closer, his smile turning razor-sharp.
"Laws? Ha! Your precious rlin Apothecary is a child compared to the giants we serve. And this—" he gestured broadly to the station outside "—is a neutral zone during warti. No one will blink if a little lower-realm apothecary like you simply... vanishes."
The dark-haired Ery narrowed his eyes. His tone was calm, but the words carried weight.
"Certainly you wouldn’t dare spill blood here. Not on Alfa Station."
"Oh, you’d be surprised." The thin magus’s voice hardened. "Our connections run deep here. Deeper than you can imagine. Best not to test ."
"How deep?" Ery tilted his head, feigning casual curiosity. "Deep enough to reach the Prefect himself?"
That drew a sharp reaction. The thin magus’s face stiffened, his smile cracking.
"...What are you trying to pull? No one has ties that high. Don’t test my patience!"
At that, the dark-haired Ery’s lips curved ever so slightly.
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