They ate or rather, Krell ate, and Ethan pretended to. The governor moved through his meal with the same calculated precision he applied to conversation, slicing through synthetic protein like it was another obstacle to overcome. Ethan, meanwhile, barely touched his plate. He shifted the food around with his fork, occasionally lifting a morsel to his mouth just to slightly taste and maintain the illusion of participation. The synthetic protein had a bland, metallic aftertaste, but Ethan wasn't tasting it, not really. His focus remained fixed on Krell, watching the man as if the governor himself were an enemy combatant across the battlefield.
The conversation meandered through carefully charted waters, Krell steering with the finesse of a seasoned diplomat, his words deliberate, his tone polished.
"My apologies for repeating myself, but I have to say that the coalition you helped forge was nothing short of remarkable," Krell said, dabbing at his mouth with the cloth napkin. "None of them trusted each other, yet you managed to unify them against a common enemy. That is no small feat."
Ethan shrugged, the compliment sliding off him like armor. "They didn't need trust. They needed survival. Fear makes for a decent glue," he muttered. "Also, my role in unifying these factions is overstated. It was the Guild Branch Master that reached out to the others first. He was the one who opened the door, I just shoved everyone through it."
Krell chuckled, the sound low and knowing, eyes gleaming like he saw straight through Ethan's deflection. "Perhaps. But fear only carries people so far. They followed you into hell, Mr. Walker. That takes more than fear. And by the end of the war against the Black Sun Syndicate, it was clear that you had the most say in decision-making."
Ethan didn't answer. He let the silence stretch again, hoping it would smother the conversation. But Krell thrived in silence. He picked once more at his food, filled the quiet with the subtle clink of utensils, then shifted the topic as if he'd never intended to dig deeper.
"We understand Ashen Prime's absence during the war has left... scars," Krell admitted, his voice laced with carefully measured regret. "There were miscalculations. Decisions made from the previous regime that falsified information sent to the Federation and acted in complete tyranny and disregard to dissident voices such as mine."
Krell set down his fork, folding his hands together. "But now that threat to Kynara and the whole Ashen Sector is gone, my priority as the new governor is accelerating relief efforts. The Federation wishes to right its wrongs."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, fingers tapping idly against his bicep. "With all due respect, the political disagreements and conflicts within your capital space station don't interest me, Your Excellency," he said, voice taut with calm. "All I know is that your inaction cost countless lives and almost let this planet become the base of a large criminal organization with a dangerous weaponry production capability. You let Kynara burn while you squabbled over seats of power."
Krell inclined his head, acknowledging the jab without flinching. His smile didn't fade, but there was something steely beneath the surface. A cold calculation lurking behind the charm.
"Things are always complicated in galactic politics," Krell said, voice level. "We had very little space to maneuver and overthrow the previous governor without triggering civil war across the sector. It took time to consolidate enough evidence and support to act without causing further collateral damage. But I assure you, the Federation is committed to Kynara's future. We've already dispatched additional medical teams, infrastructure specialists, and security forces to stabilize key regions and settlements."
Ethan pushed his plate away, appetite long gone. "Stabilize, huh? If that is what you're truly aiming to achieve then it would truly be for the best." he said, voice sharp as broken glass. " My only worry is that those security forces have another, less savory goal?"
Krell's eyes gleamed, sharp as blades, his smile widening just enough to reveal the predatory nature beneath his polished exterior. "The Coalition leadership I met yesterday expressed that same fear," he said smoothly, as if discussing weather patterns. "Mr. Walker, dominance is already a foregone conclusion due to the disparity in strength. We don't need to conquer Kynara. We already own it, in all the ways that matter."
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the crystalline table, fingers steepled. "Now, we simply aim to protect what is ours."
Ethan's body tensed, every muscle coiling like a live wire. "Yours?" he echoed, voice low.
Krell nodded, unbothered by the accusation lacing the word. "Kynara is a Federation world, Mr. Walker. It always has been, even if we lost sight of it for a time. The infrastructure, the trade routes, the mineral deposits beneath its crust....all of it is essential to the sector's stability. Without Federation oversight, Kynara will collapse under the weight of its own shattered pieces."
Krell set his utensils down with a soft clink, folding his hands on the table like a professor preparing for a lecture. The polished surface of the dining table reflected the faint gleam of his cufflinks, every part of his appearance meticulously composed. His eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto Ethan's as he spoke, voice smooth as polished steel.
"As you know, rogue remnants of Krenna's forces are still active," Krell began, his tone carrying the weight of inevitability. "Splinter cells, and new bandit warlords vying for territory. And, of course, the ever-persistent threat of space pirates circling like vultures." He gestured toward the window, where the battered city stretched out beneath them like an open wound. "Where chaos lingers, new threats rise. The power vacuum left by Krenna's death is already being filled. Criminal syndicates, smugglers, and opportunists. Peace is fragile, Mr. Walker. Without structure, without a strong hand guiding recovery, Kynara could slip back into anarchy within months."
Ethan's jaw tightened. He'd seen it himself. The reports of ambushes on relief convoys, entire shipments of medical supplies vanishing into the black market. Settlements and outposts outside the main urban hubs remained as ghost towns. And the disappearances, people vanishing from their homes, likely abducted for labor or worse as the Black Sun Syndicate did before. The war might have ended, but the violence hadn't.
"I've heard a little about this planned new security force," Ethan said, voice low. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a physical force. "The Kynaran Federation Guard, the Resistance, and your future stationed Federation troops merging into a single force." He tilted his head slightly, watching Krell's expression. "While I do have my doubts about a Federation-appointed captain leading that force, everything else seems... reasonable."
Krell's smile returned. That thin, predatory curve of his lips, like a hunter pleased with his prey's cautious acceptance. "A captain appointed by Ashen Prime would ensure operations are aligned with broader sector security initiatives and interstellar law," he explained, voice dripping with practiced charm. "We've also agreed to include key Coalition leadership members in the command structure. Lirien Vossel and Marik Vos will both hold seats within the Unified Kynaran Defense Force hierarchy, with significant input on operations. I think we've made substantial and reasonable concessions to prove our goodwill."
Ethan rubbed his face, the rough scrape of calloused fingers against stubble grounding him. His body ached, and the fatigue in his bones felt endless. He'd spent months fighting for Kynara's survival, watching people he cared about bleed and die for scraps of hope. And now, they were balancing on the edge of something equally dangerous: peace with strings attached.
"What happens when the rebuilding's done?" Ethan muttered, dropping his hand to the table. "When Kynara's valuable again?"
Krell's gaze didn't waver. If anything, his expression softened, almost sympathetic. "Then Kynara will decide its own future," he said, the words flowing like honey. "With the Federation's continuous support and oversight, of course."
Ethan's fingers curled into a loose fist on the tabletop. He knew there was a hidden agenda tucked beneath Krell's bureaucratic mask. A long game being played on galactic chessboards Ethan couldn't even see. But the truth gnawed at him: Kynara couldn't stand on its own. Not yet. Opposing a colossus like the Orion Federation was a death sentence, and without their aid, the planet's recovery would stretch into decades instead of years. They needed help. Medicine. Infrastructure. Security. The price of that help was a heavy Federation presence, but...
It wasn't as steep a price as it could have been.
Krell, for all his smooth-talking manipulation, had left just enough breathing room for the Coalition and the people of Kynara to feel like they still held agency. A sliver of freedom. Enough to keep hope alive.
"I just want the people here to be safe," Ethan muttered, voice rough, throat tight with the weight of it all.
Krell nodded, his voice quiet and almost reverent. "As do we," he said.
And for the first time, Ethan felt it. Real, unvarnished sincerity.
Krell might have been a politician, a master of the game, but in that moment, Ethan sensed something genuine. Maybe Krell truly did want Kynara to stabilize. Maybe he wanted the Federation's influence here to be more benevolent than exploitative. Or maybe he just understood the value of letting people believe they had a choice.
Ethan didn't know which it was. And right now, he didn't have the strength to dig any deeper.