Chapter 146: The Fall of the Old Order 2

Ashen Prime was no longer Valcor's domain.

Across the sprawling space station, the weight of Federation authority bore down like an iron fist. Federation strike teams moved with ruthless efficiency, sweeping through the corridors, clearing out strongholds of resistance, and securing critical infrastructure. Tactical teams reinforced security checkpoints, while elite operatives seized control of the command center, data servers, and energy relays. No stone was left unturned.

The takeover was swift, methodical, and absolute.

Valcor's personal guard, once feared enforcers of his rule, were disarmed and detained in droves. Some had put up a fight, clinging to the last shreds of their loyalty, only to be overpowered by superior numbers and firepower. Others, realizing the inevitability of the coup, surrendered without a word, their defiance hollow. They were rounded up, cuffed, and led away under the watchful eyes of Federation peacekeepers.

The station's corridors, once filled with Valcor's banners, were now patrolled by Federation officers, their sleek armor reflecting the sterile glow of artificial lighting. The oppressive violet and black hues of Valcor's regime were already being stripped away, leaving only the stark blue sigils of the Orion Federation.

Tallis Krell's agents moved seamlessly into positions of power, assuming control of security stations, communication hubs, and administrative centers. Data was being reviewed, intelligence compiled. Every sector of the station was being restructured under Federation oversight, ensuring that whatever power Valcor had once held would be erased completely. His empire had not just fallen, it had been dismantled, piece by piece.

And at the center of it all, the fallen governor himself walked the cold corridors of his former domain, flanked by heavily armed Federation peacekeepers.

Valcor's wrists were bound by containment cuffs, their faint hum of suppressive energy ensuring that any cybernetic augmentations he possessed were rendered useless. His movements were deliberate, his steps measured, but his expression remained unreadable. He showed no signs of anger, nor did he lash out in defiance. He was too experienced for that. Too proud.

The march to the hangar was slow, yet the weight of it pressed down like an eternity. Along the way, his gaze fell upon the remnants of his command. Officers, soldiers, and staff who had once stood at his side, enforcing his will. Now, they stood at attention, heads held high, but none dared to meet his gaze.

Some had betrayed him outright, working with Krell and the Federation to bring about his downfall. Others had simply chosen silence, letting the tides shift without interference. Whether they had conspired against him or merely watched his fall, it made no difference now.

Valcor memorized their faces, not with fury but with cold calculation. He marked the ones who had betrayed him, noted the ones who had turned away. Not out of spite, but out of the simple reality of what had transpired. He had spent years building an empire of control, only for it to be undone in a matter of hours.

By the time he reached the hangar doors, one undeniable truth settled over him.

He had been outplayed.

The hangar's VIP lounge doors slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the two men who had orchestrated his downfall.

Admiral Doran Kane stood at the center of the room, his presence as imposing as ever. His navy-blue uniform was immaculate, adorned with polished insignias that reflected the sterile overhead lighting. Every detail of his attire and stance exuded the authority of a man who had spent decades enforcing the will of the Orion Federation. His expression was unreadable, neither smug nor vindictive, but filled with the quiet resolve of duty.

Beside him, Tallis Krell stood with his arms crossed, his gaze steady. The usual smile that often danced at the corners of his mouth was absent, replaced by a look of measured calculation. Krell had won, and he knew it but he wasn't gloating. He didn't need to.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

The room itself was cold and sterile, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded outside these walls. Federation officers lined the perimeter, their rifles held at ease but ready. The faint hum of containment fields in the walls served as a reminder that there was no escape from this moment.

Kane stepped forward, slow and deliberate, producing a sleek, black datapad from within his uniform. His voice, when he spoke, was steady and absolute.

"Governor Renn Valcor, you are hereby relieved of duty and placed under arrest for crimes against the Orion Federation."

The words cut through the air like a blade. Sharp. Irreversible.

But Valcor, even in defeat, refused to bow.

He lifted his chin slightly, his lips curling into a smirk despite the energy cuffs that bound his wrists. There was no trace of panic in his features, only cold amusement. His voice, as always, carried the practiced calm of a seasoned commander.

"Crimes, Admiral? Tell me, what exactly am I being charged with?"

Kane didn't hesitate. He had prepared for this moment.

"Unlawful military mobilization. Illegal support of criminal activity on Kynara. Corruption. Misuse of Federation resources. Unauthorized weapons smuggling and research. Ordering the suppression of Federation civilians."

Valcor scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

"Is that what they're calling it?" he said, his voice dripping with derision. "I was ensuring stability, Admiral. The Kynaran resistance was a direct threat to the Federation's control over the region. If they had gained access to that psychic ore, it would have compromised everything. I did what had to be done."

Kane's jaw tightened slightly. "You defied direct orders from Federation High Command," he said.

Valcor's eyes gleamed with something almost like pride.

"I acted when the Federation was too spineless to do so," he countered. "Kynara was a breeding ground for insurrectionists and mercenaries. The Council wasted months deliberating whether action was required. I took control, I secured the ore, and I turned it into something that would benefit the Federation."

Kane took another step forward, his tone lowering into something colder.

"You lined your pockets with bribes from crime syndicates," he said, his words like iron. "You funneled resources meant for the Federation's military and civilians in the Ashen Sector into your own black-market operations, your personal research, and your political ambitions. You conspired with the Federation's traitor Drakor Krenna. Don't pretend you did this for the good of the people."

For the first time, Valcor said nothing. The accusations weren't lies. But they weren't the whole truth either.

His operations on Kynara had been necessary. The mercenaries, the rebel factions, the psychic ore....none of it could be left unchecked. The Federation's bureaucracy had been too slow, too weak to act. He had taken it upon himself to do what they wouldn't.

And yes, his alliances with the Black Sun Syndicate and the rogue bandit warlords had been unofficial, but they had been effective. A type of order had been maintained.

But the Federation had never understood the realities of governance in the Ashen Sector.

They only saw the headlines, the reports from their distant offices, the surface-level politics. They didn't understand what it took to keep control out here.

Valcor took a slow breath, straightened his shoulders, and met Kane's gaze without flinching. When he spoke, his voice was calm, measured and unshaken.

"You're making a mistake, Kane." He let the words settle before continuing.

"I was the only thing keeping the Ashen Sector from falling into full-blown chaos. Without me, you won't be able to control it. You think Federation protocol is enough? You think your bureaucrats will hold it together?" He shook his head. "No. You'll fail. And when you do, I hope you remember this moment."

Kane's expression remained unreadable, his eyes steady. Then, he spoke.

"Your time is over, Governor Valcor," he said, his tone firm. "The Federation does not answer to tyrants and traitors. You should be well aware of that."

The words were a death sentence.

Valcor held his gaze for a long moment, searching for something. Doubt, hesitation, anything in Kane's features. He found nothing.

Then, slowly, he turned his head to Tallis Krell.

Krell met his stare with quiet triumph, his expression devoid of sympathy.

Valcor let out a slow exhale. His shoulders dropped ever so slightly. The fire in his eyes dimmed.

Anything he said now would be used against him.

With Valcor's reign officially ended, the next phase of the transition began.

The Federation had executed its coup with brutal efficiency, but a military victory alone was not enough. The Ashen Sector needed leadership. Stability. A face to represent the new order.

And for now, that face was Tallis Krell.

The chamber was packed with station personnel. Officers, engineers, bureaucrats, many of whom had served under Valcor. Some had been loyalists, others mere functionaries caught in the tide of shifting power. Now, they stood in uneasy silence as Krell stepped forward.

The weight of his new authority settled over him like a second skin. Though his position as acting governor was temporary, the power it granted was absolute. Until the Federation High Command appointed a permanent administrator, he was in control.

Krell took his place at the command dais, his voice steady and resolute as he addressed the assembled crowd.

"Effective immediately, Ashen Prime will operate under complete Federation oversight."

His words were measured, calculated, designed not just to assert dominance, but to reassure. The Federation needed the station's personnel to cooperate, not resist. The transition had to be swift and decisive.

"The corruption that plagued this station under Valcor's rule will be eradicated. Our priority will be to restore order and ensure the prosperity of the sector under legitimate governance."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the gathered officers. Some exchanged cautious glances, while others remained stone-faced.

It was too soon to tell whether Krell's leadership would be any different from Valcor's. The Ashen Sector had long been ruled through power plays and pragmatism. Promises of "legitimate governance" meant little to those who had seen how fragile political authority could be.

But Krell wasn't finished.

His voice sharpened, cutting through the lingering uncertainty.

"All illegal operations will be dismantled. Any smuggled Federation weaponry will be retrieved. Our diplomatic relations with Kynara will be restored. And-" he paused, his tone lowering to something more deliberate, more personal "the bodies of the Federation soldiers who perished during the Kynaran war against the traitor Drakor Krenna's criminal organization will be counted and properly honored."

A hush fell over the chamber.

For the first time, the weight of what had transpired settled over the room. The Federation hadn't just overthrown Valcor, it had taken back a sector that had bled under his rule.

Even those who had benefited from Valcor's administration found it hard to argue against Krell's words. No one had forgotten the brutality of the Kynara occupation. No one had ignored the growing presence of crime syndicates that had infiltrated the sector under Valcor's watch.

There was no going back. The Federation's laws were fully in control now.

And Tallis Krell was the man who would enforce them.