The call ended soon after.
Cassian remained silent for a mont, then turned back to the map.
"We should go," Elara said.
"We should," Cassian agreed. "But not imdiately."
She did not look pleased by that, though she did not argue. "Because of the council."
"Because if we move openly without preparation, half the upper houses will know about it. The other half will just send scouts to figure it out."
"He is our son."
"He is also sitting on a frontier opportunity which he is able to handle on his own for now."
Elara looked at him.
Cassian sighed. "I did not say we would wait long."
"Good."
"And before you accuse of being heartless, I would like to point out that I am already preparing a response."
That earned him a small smile.
Cassian began dictating orders.
A discreet support package would be assembled first. Not a warfleet. Not sothing dramatic enough to light up every political sensor in the Alliance.
High-grade technical teams, survey specialists, portable fabrication modules, shield engineers, a few loyal administrators, and a protected communication array that could stabilize long-range family contact.
A second group would remain on standby.
That one would be military.
Not to rescue Aurelian.
To reinforce him if the frontier opened properly.
The Arcturus family was not desperate for new territory, but it was also not foolish enough to ignore one of its own heirs finding an entirely new sector weaker than expected.
That was not luck to be wasted.
anwhile, Aurelian had no idea that his parents were already preparing to move pieces around him.
If he had known, he probably would have been satisfied.
And then he would have asked how many engineers they could send.
At Helion Bastion Twelve, he was standing in another refit bay, looking over the next completed hull.
This one was not Astra.
It did not carry the sa quiet pressure the Black Crown now carried.
But it is still an important part of his plan.
The ship in front of him belonged to Neris.
Her refit had not given her the sa kind of overwhelming presence as Astra’s, but that was never the goal.
Neris was not built to dominate the battlefield through firepower. She was built to make sure the rest of the fleet could keep fighting long after it should have run dry.
Now, with her engine fully integrated and the new support modules installed, she was much more than a supply ship that followed behind the others.
She could keep up.
She could support active operations.
She could convert materials faster, manage ammunition chains better, and stay with strike forces without forcing everyone else to slow down.
Neris stood beside Aurelian, looking at her ship with her usual sleepy expression.
"So," Aurelian said, "how does it feel?"
She thought about it seriously.
"Far better than before."
Aurelian looked at her.
Neris blinked slowly.
Then, after a brief pause, she added, "That was a joke."
Rhoswen, standing nearby with arms folded, nodded as if judging a formal competition. "Not bad. Needs more violence."
Neris tilted her head. "I will try not to add violence to logistics."
"Coward."
Aurelian looked at Rhoswen. "You are not allowed to ntor anyone in humor."
Rhoswen looked offended, but this ti in a way that made it clear she was enjoying herself. "Commander, my humor is excellent."
"Your humor is usually a threat."
"That ans it has structure."
Lysara, who had entered quietly at so point, said, "A poor structure, but yes."
Neris laughed softly.
The sound eased the room more than Aurelian expected. It was small, but important. The fleet had been under pressure for too long, and monts like this helped keep everyone from becoming nothing but reports and combat readiness.
Aurelian knew he had been too quiet lately.
Not because he did not care, but because too many decisions sat on his shoulders, and he had a habit of saving words when things beca serious.
Still, a commander who never showed warmth beca harder to follow over ti.
He understood that.
So when Rhoswen looked like she was preparing another complaint about being delayed for armor work, he spoke first.
"Your turn is coming."
She stopped.
Then her expression shifted, not into annoyance, but into real attention. "Really?"
"Yes. After your final inspection clears."
Her excitent rose imdiately, but she held it better than she would have weeks ago. "I’ll clear it."
"You don’t clear inspections by glaring at the repair drones."
"I did not glare."
ridian’s voice ca through the bay speakers. "You glared."
Rhoswen looked up. "That was encouragent."
"The drones filed a stress report."
Aurelian almost smiled. "Then encourage them less aggressively."
Rhoswen opened her mouth, paused, then nodded with unusual seriousness. "Fine. I will be gentle. Terrifying, but gentle."
"That is all I ask."
Lysara looked at him with quiet amusent. "You are becoming better at handling her."
"I am adapting to battlefield conditions."
Rhoswen brightened. "So I am a battlefield condition."
"An ongoing one," Aurelian said.
She seed pleased with that, which was not what he had intended, but he decided not to take it back.
The next days were filled with more work.
Neris completed her final tuning.
Solenne’s carrier decks were restored and improved with lessons from the raid. She had pushed her aircraft hard during the Kharov operation, and the data helped redesign so launch and recovery cycles.
Her future upgrade would co later, but she was already more efficient than before.
Lysara’s refit plan beca more complicated the longer they studied it. Her missing Severance Lance was the key.
Aurelian could upgrade her without it, but doing so might lock her into a path that wasted her true potential.
He hated that idea.
So Lysara waited.
She did not complain, though she clearly understood the reason.
"I would rather wait for the correct weapon than be made stronger in the wrong direction," she said.
"Good," Aurelian replied. "Because I was going to make you wait anyway."
"That is less comforting than you think."
"But honest."
"I suppose that is your charm."
Rhoswen, overhearing from the next bay, called out, "Is that what you call charm?"
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