14.Voss - The Announcement

Voss walked into the boardroom with cold precision.

Glass walls, polished steel, and a holographic table that stretched the length of the room. It was the kind of place where power moved without sound, where control was measured in the flicker of data streams and the tightening of jaws.

He barely registered the watchful eyes, the murmuring voices, the scent of hesitation clinging to the air.

This wasn't a discussion.

This was a war council.

And he had already decided who won.

Voss moved to the head of the table and placed both palms flat against the cool surface. The murmuring died immediately. They always knew when to shut up.

"We're taking fulfillment."

A beat of silence.

Then—nods.

The Alphas in the room understood instantly.

The Betas—hesitated.

One of them—a sharp-faced logistics director, a Beta with too much confidence in numbers and not enough in instinct—spoke first.

"Clarify."

Voss's silver eyes didn't flicker. "Every outstanding contract. Every shipment pending fulfillment. We're claiming them now."

The Beta frowned. "That's not how supply chains work. You can't just—"

Voss leaned forward slightly, his gaze razor-sharp.

"I can. And I will."

A shift in the air. The Alphas at the table stayed still, silent. They weren't questioning him. They were waiting.

But the Betas—they resisted.

As they always did.

Another voice—this one from the finance division. "That kind of bulk fulfillment will cause shortages across—"

"Not my problem." Voss cut him off, his voice absolute.

A flicker of uncertainty passed through the room. The Betas were too used to measured plans, gradual movements, strategies that played out over years.

Voss didn't have years.

He had four days.

A Beta near the end of the table cleared his throat. "Sir, our warehouses aren't designed to handle immediate—"

Voss's gaze snapped to him. "Did I ask if we could handle it?"

The Beta stiffened.

Voss's voice stayed even, clipped, cold: "I told you to do it."

The weight of it settled over the room.

The Betas exchanged glances. They weren't stupid. They knew better than to push—but their instincts told them this was a bad idea.

Voss could almost hear their thoughts. Too fast. Too reckless. Too much.

But he saw it in the Alphas—the ones who understood what he was doing.

The ones who could smell it in him.

He had already decided.

Voss straightened, rolling his shoulders back slightly.

"Effective immediately, all food supply contracts are being fulfilled in full."

A ripple of tension.

"Every grain shipment, every protein allotment, every hydroponic transfer—we take it now." His voice was cold, clipped, surgical. "All future orders will be placed on hold indefinitely."

A Beta at the far end of the table visibly flinched. "That will cause disruptions—"

"Again. Not my problem."

His words cold and weighted:

"I hold the food contracts. Every one of you is under my leverage."

A beat.

A crack in the tension.

But he pressed harder.

"And more importantly—" his voice dipped lower, cold and ruthless, "I hold something you can't survive without."

The screen behind him flared to life:

[METAL ALLOCATION CONTRACTS — RARE EARTH SUPPLY: VOSS INDUSTRIES]

Gasps.

A sharp murmur—

The air tightened.

Colton's voice, quick and unnerved:

"You—control the rare metals flow—"

Voss's silver eyes burned.

His voice, iron:

"All of it."

A beat.

"Titanium. Palladium. Iridium." His voice, low and absolute, "Every rare earth you need for Ark construction, life support shielding, and engine cores."

A breath.

A cold blade of truth.

"And I'm calling those deliveries—now."

The finance Beta paled. "That will bankrupt several—"

Voss's silver eyes flicked to him, shutting him down with a look.

"Then they should have negotiated better contracts."

This wasn't about money.

This wasn't about trade, disruption, or economic fallout.

This was about winning.

He straightened, dusting nonexistent wrinkles from his sleeves. "Move fast. Use private security for escorts if necessary. Anyone who resists—remind them of their contracts."

A slow breath.

Then, the final push.

"Within seventy-two hours, I want every single resource sitting at my docks."

The room cracked with tension.

But no one argued.

Not anymore.

Because the Betas had stopped thinking about numbers—

And had started smelling the shift in power.

The Alphas could already feel it.

Voss's silver eyes burned.

"Meeting adjourned."

He turned on his heel, leaving the boardroom without another glance.

Behind him, the air still crackled—executives whispering, silent power shifting, Betas scrambling to catch up to what the Alphas already understood.

It was done.

And Ravenna was waiting.

He could feel it.

She always waited.

His strides were smooth, measured, precise as he moved through the corridors of his tower. The cold scent of steel and glass wrapped around him—sterile, calculated, a machine built for one purpose only: control.

Then—his earpiece clicked.

"Voss."

Ava.

Sharp. Efficient. Unshaken.

The AI's voice hummed through his private channel, smooth as polished glass.

"Auction board updated."

Voss's pace didn't slow.

"Talk to me."

A pause.

Then—a new display flickered across his ocular interface, casting pale blue light against the inside of his vision.

[ARK 0 AUCTION BOARD – BID STATUS UPDATE]

House Voss – ACTIVE

House Solen – BACKING CONFIRMED

Ravenna Voss – ACTIVE BID

Corporate Syndicate A – PENDING

Government Holdings – PENDING

Voss's jaw ticked.

"She's still holding position." His voice was cold. Calculating. "No counter yet?"

"Not yet." Ava's tone was flat, unreadable. "But her assets are moving."

Voss's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Define 'moving.'"

A flicker. More data streamed through.

RAVENNA VOSS – ASSET REALLOCATIONS IN PROGRESS

Hydroponic Reserves: TRANSFERRED

Industrial Supply Chains: CONSOLIDATING

Fuel Reserves: LOCKED

"She's shifting resources early."

Ava didn't confirm. Didn't need to.

She just kept feeding him data, her voice smooth, precise—but not neutral.

"Not just her."

Voss's silver eyes narrowed slightly.

"Explain."

A flicker. New data. New movements.

Government Holdings: Fuel contracts frozen

Corporate Syndicate A: Liquidating assets

Outer Colony Trade Routes: Increased shipment volumes

Independent Refugee Fleets: Unusual buying patterns

A pause.

Then—Ava's voice, just a fraction quieter.

"There are whispers about the Earth Core problem."

Voss's jaw ticked.

"Source?"

"No official statement yet. But encrypted chatter suggests concern among high-level corporate sectors and off-world investors."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"They're scared."

Ava didn't confirm.

Didn't need to.

Because they both knew what this meant.

Someone was talking.

Someone was putting the wrong eyes on the right problem.

Voss exhaled through his nose.

"How long until it spreads?"

"Hard to say. If it stays in the upper echelons, weeks. If it leaks to the public—" Ava hesitated, then finished, "Days."

The elevator doors slid shut.

Voss's silver gaze flicked to the holographic interface, watching the numbers shift.

"Keep listening." His voice was low, absolute. "And find me the leak."

Ava's tone was already moving, adjusting, calculating.

"Understood."

The line clicked off.

And Voss?

He was already three steps ahead.