Chapter 155: Change in the Ashen Sector 2

The news of the Ashen Sector's power shift spread quickly through Kynara's leadership, prompting an urgent coalition meeting called by Lirien Vossel, the newly appointed Captain of the Kynaran Federation Guard. In the wake of war and reconstruction, the last thing Kynara needed was more political instability, yet the Federation's sudden move had thrown the entire sector into uncertainty.

Ethan was at the Mercenary Guild's command hall, standing by the tactical display as Darrik Voss delivered the latest update. The holo-screen above them projected a Federation-patched transmission, the blue insignia of the Orion Federation's diplomatic corps rotating beside a formal message:

 PRIORITY NOTICE – FEDERATION DIPLOMATIC ENVOY

 ORIGIN: ASHEN PRIME, GOVERNOR'S OFFICE

 TO: KYNARAN FEDERATION GUARD & ALL COALITION LEADERSHIP

 THE NEWLY APPOINTED ASHEN SECTOR GOVERNOR, TALLIN KRELL, WILL BE CONDUCTING A DIPLOMATIC VISIT TO KYNARA IN THREE DAYS.

 THE PURPOSE OF THIS VISIT IS TO DISCUSS THE FUTURE OF THE SECTOR, STABILIZATION EFFORTS, AND THE ESTABLISHMENT OF A LONG-TERM STRATEGIC AGREEMENT BETWEEN THE FEDERATION AND KYNARAN LEADERSHIP.

 GOVERNOR KRELL FORMALLY REQUESTS A MEETING WITH THE FOLLOWING HIGH-RANKING INDIVIDUALS:

 LIRIEN VOSSEL, CAPTAIN OF THE KYNARAN FEDERATION GUARD

 MARIK VOS, LEADER OF THE KYNARAN RESISTANCE MOVEMENT

 DARRIK VOSS, MERCENARY GUILD BRANCH LEADER

 ETHAN WALKER, INDEPENDENT MERCENARY, DESIGNATED AS THE INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBLE FOR THE TERMINATION OF DRAKOR KRENNA

Ethan narrowed his eyes at the last line.

"Hell of a list," Darrik muttered, crossing his arms. His cybernetic eye flickered as he processed the implications. "Vossel and Vos? That makes sense. The Guard and the resistance are the two biggest factions keeping Kynara from falling into chaos. And me? The Mercenary Guild has been handling security contracts across the planet. But you, Walker? That's what I find intriguing."

Ethan leaned back against the table, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, quite intriguing"

There was a long pause before Darrik exhaled sharply. "Krell's singling you out. Could be a show of force, could be something else. Either way, this isn't normal Federation diplomacy."

Alrik Thorne and Lirien Vossel had fought to clean the Federation Guard's image in Kynara, so it makes sense to put her at the forefront of their diplomacy tactic. Marik Vos had risen as the new resistance leader after the death of Joran Kren, taking the fight to what was left of Black Sun sympathizers and ambitious gang leaders and bandits. Darrik had led countless other mercenaries in the final days of the war, keeping them organized afterwards as well to help in the planet's defense and recontrustion. But Ethan? He wasn't part of any faction or resistance. He was just a lone mercenary who had taken down a high-profile criminal.

"Drakor Krenna," Ethan muttered, glancing at the highlighted text. "That's the reason they're calling me in."

Darrik nodded. "Krenna was a power player, no doubt about it. We knew that he had Federation contacts and kept bandit warlords, and smaller criminal syndicates on his payroll. His death created a vacuum...one that some people might be grateful for, and others might want revenge for."

Ethan didn't respond immediately. He had killed Drakor Krenna in a brutal final battle, but for him it had been personal, not political. Krenna had been a colossal menace, a monstrosity that surpassed common sense, a piece of filth that needed to be put down. But in the world of power struggles, nothing was ever that simple.

There were too many unanswered questions.

Was Tallin Krell a legitimate stabilizing force, or just another opportunist looking to fill the void left by Valcor? Why had the Orion Federation's 6th Fleet been so quick to remove the old governor?

And more importantly, why was Ethan Walker, an independent mercenary, suddenly being dragged into Federation politics ?

Darrik turned off the holo-screen and exhaled. "Whatever this is, it's not just a simple diplomatic meeting. Krell wants something. And from the way he's framing it, you're a key piece on the board, whether you like it or not."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and let out a quiet chuckle. "I never liked politics."

Darrik smirked. "Yeah, well, politics likes you."

Ethan glanced at the transmission one last time before pushing off the table. Three days. That's how long he had before meeting the new Governor of the Ashen Sector face-to-face.

Ethan made his way back through the bustling corridors of Valeris's Mercenary Guild branch headquarters, the massive hangar where his ship had been docked since his crash landing months ago. The station was alive with movement, engineers fine-tuning ship components, technicians calibrating weapons systems, and merchants haggling over crates of spare parts and black-market tech. The air was thick with the scent of fuel vapors and burnt circuitry, the distant sparks of welding torches flashing like artificial lightning. Repair drones hovered above, their mechanical limbs adjusting plating and rewiring damaged circuits as they tirelessly worked to restore the ships scattered throughout the hangar.

At the far end, his ship stood like a specter from another life, still undergoing repairs. The scorch marks and dented hull plating were all that remained of the impact that had stranded him on Kynara, a harsh reminder of the turbulent months that followed. Yet now, thanks to the Mercenary Guild's best engineers and lots of credits, it was nearly spaceworthy again. The power core thrummed softly beneath the reinforced plating, a pulse of energy waiting to be unleashed.

Ethan ran a hand along the cool, dark metal of the hull, feeling the faint vibrations beneath his fingertips. It was almost time. He should have been relieved. Soon, he could finally leave this war-torn world behind, set a course for the central galactic sectors, and move on. No more politics. No more battles that weren't his to fight. Just the stars, his ship, and whatever came next.

But as he stood there, staring at the vessel that had once been his escape, something nagged at him.

To many, the war was over. But Ethan knew better.

War didn't end when the last shot was fired. It ended when the power vacuum was filled, when order was restored, not by force, but by stability. It ended when those who had fought and bled for their home weren't discarded like relics of a violent past, left to fend for themselves in the ruins of their victory. And right now, Kynara's future was anything but certain.

The appointment of Governor Tallin Krell was more than just a political formality. It was a seismic shift in the balance of power. A shift that could either bring long-awaited stability or plunge the Ashen Sector into another cycle of corruption, rebellion, and war. Krell's sudden rise raised too many questions. Had he truly been chosen to rebuild the sector? Or was he merely another puppet, another opportunist seizing control in the aftermath of chaos?

Ethan had no answers. Only more questions.

For the first time in months, he found himself at a crossroads.

Option one: Leave immediately.

He had already started preparing for it. His ship was close to being operational. His supplies, food, water, ammo, medical kits, and spare parts were stocked. He had even replaced his ruined tech suit and helmet with upgraded versions. Everything was set. The central galactic sectors called to him, new contracts, new jobs, new places to explore and enjoy. He had spent too much time in this war already. He had done his part. He had no obligation to stay.

Option two: Stay, just a little longer.

Not for long, but just enough to see this through. Enough to make sure the people who had fought for Kynara weren't betrayed by whatever political maneuvering came next.

Dax. Leena. Lyra. Foons. Thorne. Kren. Too many names. Too many lives lost.

He owed it to them to make sure their sacrifices hadn't been in vain. If this meeting with Krell was just the first step in a new game of power and control, then someone needed to be there to see through the deception. Someone who wasn't tied to a faction, who didn't have a political agenda.

Ethan exhaled slowly, his gaze locked onto the obsidian-dark hull of his ship, its sleek, predatory design reflecting the dim overhead lights of the hangar. His choice was made.