House Valken

Orion stared at the data flickering on the holo-screen, his mind racing.

Something doesn't add up.

The thought had crystallized the moment Aurelia presented the files, but now, with the weight of the information settling in, a new realization took shape—one that made his pulse slow with cold clarity.

She had given him a gift, but one wrapped in barbed wire.

Orion leaned back, fingers steepled, studying Aurelia's expression. She was composed, poised—but not indifferent. No, she was watching him carefully, gauging his reaction like a gambler waiting to see if their opponent would fold or raise the stakes.

"So," he said, his voice carefully neutral, "this is a generous present and all. A rare insight into Dominion actions, a glimpse at a bloodline purged for something even they didn't understand. But it's not just a gift, is it?"

Aurelia's lips curved slightly, but the smile was empty of warmth. "No, Orion. It's not."

His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against the table. "The moment I do anything with this information, I become a problem."

Orion wasn't sure if he should be furious or impressed. His anger simmered beneath the surface, tempered by discipline but no less volatile. Aurelia had played him—deftly, elegantly.

She had framed her revelation as an offering, but the moment she spoke those words, she had shackled him to a burden he had no choice but to carry.

And that was what unsettled him the most. She hadn't simply dropped a dangerous truth into his lap—she had ensured that he had no way to ignore it. She had cornered him, but she had done so with such practiced subtlety that he almost wanted to admire it.

He could see it now—there was no naivety in her stance, no misplaced idealism. She understood exactly what she had done, exactly what storm she had nudged into motion. And yet, she showed no regret. No hesitation.

Orion exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "You knew I couldn't ignore this."

Aurelia's lips curved, a ghost of something unreadable flickering across her face. "Of course, Orion. That's why I told you."

He had thought her naïve in her aspirations for peace. But now he saw it—she wasn't just surviving in the great game. She was playing it.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. The tension in his jaw relaxed—if only because he had expected something like this. Aurelia never did anything for free.

"We'll continue this conversation later," he said finally, rising to his feet. "After I verify what I can."

Aurelia didn't protest. She simply nodded. "Of course."

But the glint in her eyes told him she knew exactly what she had done.

The weight of what came next settled over him like a leaden shroud. He needed time.

Distance. A moment to think.

And what better distraction than his upcoming birthday?

The palace grounds were already shifting in preparation. The air hummed with energy, a rhythm of coordinated efficiency as servants and event coordinators moved like a well-oiled machine. Orion barely stepped onto the main estate floor before a flood of notifications pinged through his holo-comm—schedules, guest lists, wardrobe fittings, security arrangements.

At the grand hall's entrance, Valeria stood waiting, arms crossed in a way that immediately told Orion he had already made some oversight.

"I assume you haven't looked at the itinerary?" she asked dryly.

Orion sighed. "Do I ever?"

Her sharp gaze lingered on him for a moment, searching, before she simply handed him a sleek data-slate. "Everything is on here."

"Thanks, Mom." 

He scrolled through the guest list, names flashing past—Ares Petrosyan, the young heirs of House Kaelis, a delegation from the Imperial Academy, and even an envoy from the Dominion.

His jaw clenched at that last one.

Valeria studied him. "Something wrong?"

He forced a smirk. "Just thinking about how tiresome all the small talk will be."

She didn't look convinced. But she let it go.

"Good. You have less than two weeks to prepare." She hesitated for a brief moment before adding, "And if you are up to something, Orion—be careful."

He met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them. Then he nodded, slipping the data-slate into his pocket.

But his mind had already returned to the data feeds.

---

Lines of history scrolled past the holo-screen in cold, clinical precision. The sheer completeness of the purge was unsettling—an entire House, wiped from existence so thoroughly that even rumors of their legacy were scarce. No scandals, no betrayals, no violent extermination meant to serve as a warning to others. Just absence.

That was what unsettled him the most.

Across the chamber, Lysander Kain sat with his usual unshaken patience, a man who had long since stopped being surprised by the depths of Dominion deception. His uniform was crisp, his posture composed, but his eyes were sharp.

"You see it now," Kain murmured. "This wasn't an execution. It was something worse."

Orion ran a hand over his jaw. "House Valken had something—something valuable enough that they couldn't just be killed off. If the Dominion wanted them gone, they could have used nanotoxins, orbital strikes, even internal sabotage. But they didn't."

"Because erasing them wasn't the goal," Kain replied. "Erasing what they knew was."

Orion exhaled slowly, considering the implications.

Aurelia had placed him on this path deliberately. Whether out of some twisted sense of fairness or a deeper strategy, she'd forced his hand. If he pursued this, he became a liability to someone powerful. If he backed down, it would look even worse—why would the Reyes heir suddenly stop searching? Either way, he was in the game now.

He pushed the datapad away. "I need deeper access."

Kain arched an eyebrow. "Your father's clearances would get you into—"

"No." Orion shook his head. "If I trip an alarm, if I even hint that I'm looking into Valken, it'll get back to him. If he intervenes, I lose control of the situation. I actually considered telling him, but I discarded the thought immediately. I need something that doesn't go through Reyes channels."

It wasn't that he didn't trust his father. Cassian Reyes had weathered political storms far greater than this, and if anyone could unearth the truth, it was him. But that was precisely the problem. If Cassian got involved, the matter would spiral into something far larger, something Orion would no longer have control over.

His father would be forced to consider the larger implications, the potential fallout for the Reyes name. Orion wasn't just gambling with knowledge; he was gambling with his family's place in the aristocratic order. And that was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Kain leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "That kind of request comes with a price."

Orion didn't flinch. "That won't be a problem."

A beat of silence.

Then Kain sighed, tapping a command into his console. A secondary data stream opened, fragmented and filled with classified tags.

"There's a secure data cache," Kain said. "The Grand Repository on Eos Prime. Some believe it holds pre-Empire records."

Orion narrowed his eyes. "It's real?"

"I wouldn't bet on it. But if there's anything left of House Valken, that's where it would be."

The pieces were shifting. A lead—tenuous, but real.