James Furn had always enjoyed traveling through foreign space. From the bridge of his carrier, he watched galaxies drift past like jeweled crowns scattered across the endless black. The stars of the Holy Sacred Empire flared bright and cold, but James paid them little mind.
He counted seven galaxies under their dominion. On paper, it sounded impressive. In truth, four of those galaxies were little more than hollow shells, stripped of their lifeblood. Mining husks, their worlds scoured and gutted until only scarred crusts remained. Only three contained true population centers, planets with thriving cities and cultures.
The Holy Sacred Empire postured as mighty sovereigns of the stars, but James saw only hollowness beneath the façade. Their glittering banners concealed decay, their grandeur stretched thin over weakness.
For eight days his carrier drifted at a measured pace, a lone shadow among constellations, watching and recording. Patience came naturally to him. The voyage brought him finally to the edge of contested space, where the domains of the Holy Sacred Empire ended and the Tersiac Intergalactic Alliance began.
Here the silence was broken by fortresses. Two of them, colossal structures each the size of a small moon, loomed at opposite ends of the border gulf. Their guns bristled, their shields shimmered faintly, and their silent vigil had lasted for years. They faced one another with the stillness of statues. Neither advanced, neither retreated.
This was not the edge of war but the theatre of it's a performance, hostility performed as ritual.
James's craft sailed calmly between them.
The silence did not last.
"Unidentified carrier," came a crisp transmission from the Tersiac fortress. "State your purpose. Why do you bring such a vessel to our border? Are you hostile?"
The words amused him. James leaned back in his chair, his lips curving faintly. The Tersiac Alliance was not like the Holy Sacred Empire. They were not weak pretenders. Their civilization brushed the edge of Type IV, their fleets vast, their sciences sophisticated. They could crush the Sacred Empire with ease if they wished. Yet here they were lowering themselves, feigning caution as though they were still a Type III neighbor.
Behind him, the Imperial Marines aboard his carrier reacted at once. Drilled discipline clicked into place. Armor sealed with a hiss, weapons were primed, firing lanes secured. The bridge grew taut, charged with the quiet readiness of soldiers prepared to kill at a single word.
James, however, showed no tension. He opened a channel, his tone smooth and steady.
"I am James Furn, envoy of the Golden Lion Empire. I come not as an enemy but as a guest. If the Tersiac Alliance seeks trade in materials, technologies, perhaps even energy weapons we may find common ground."
There was hesitation on the other end. Then the voice softened. Permission was granted. He would be allowed to enter, though they warned him the Alliance's central council was deep in deliberations. A summit of representatives was underway, and no conclusion would be reached for at least four more days. If the envoy wished to speak, he would have to wait.
James thanked them politely.
From the fortress, the captain of the watch kept his eyes locked on the approaching ship. At first glance, it resembled a dreadnought sleek, colossal, its silhouette bristling with lethal promise. Then the data came through.
A carrier.
The word froze him. His throat went dry.
A carrier? If that monster was only a carrier, how vast must their dreadnoughts be? How many starfighters did it carry? How many weapons lay hidden across its armored hide?
The thought gnawed at him, but his face betrayed nothing. He gave the orders, voice steady, though unease hollowed his chest.
James, oblivious to the terror he left in his wake, returned to habit. His eyes swept across system charts, mapping nodes and anomalies, tracing gravitic currents. The great vessel slid with deceptive ease into the docking bay of the Third Fortress of the Alliance.
Civilians gathered in droves to see the arrival. Some panicked outright, fleeing as the massive craft blotted out starlight. Others stood rooted in awe, admiration lighting their eyes. Rarely had such a warship been seen up close.
When James descended the carrier's ramp, he did so with calm composure. His stride was unhurried, his posture balanced. In his hand, he carried his permits.
The Fortress Leader of the Third Galaxy received him in person. Courtesy was exchanged, hands clasped in formality, words weighed with care. Yet the man's eyes lingered on the vast silhouette of the carrier, unease flickering in every glance.
Formalities done, James wandered. He explored the fortress-city with the patience of an envoy, his curiosity genuine though measured. He tested food stalls, sampled local delicacies. Some flavors intrigued him, others turned his tongue. He watched performances, browsed markets, examined the rhythms of their lives.
He searched for evidence of higher civilization contact, for threads of Type IV influence. He found none. The Alliance, for all its growing strength, seemed insular a world rising under its own power, not yet touched by something greater.
At last, he boarded a shuttle to the Alliance's central planet. Days passed quietly, filled with observation and idle indulgence. Nothing stirred him deeply.
On the fifth day, the summons arrived.
The council was ready to receive him.
The chamber of meeting was vast, but its grandeur was restrained. Stone and metal shaped into clean lines, the design practical, efficient a hall meant to convey order, not opulence.
When James entered, he found not the supreme leader of the Alliance but one of its representatives.
The man rose with stiff pride. His name was announced with flourish: Skebe Derezz.
Derezz moved with arrogance, his every gesture sharpened into condescension. His smile was thin, his tone sharper still.
James regarded him with a faint shrug. He wasted no time with false courtesies. He outlined terms, spoke of opportunities in trade, of materials and knowledge that could bind their civilizations in mutual growth.
Derezz scoffed. His replies were curt, dismissive. His pride blinded him, arrogance thick as armor.
Patience had limits. James leaned back, red eyes flickering. This man is useless. I need someone with wit, someone who can think. Negotiation with a fool leads only to ruin.
Derezz felt the slight like a blade. His pride could not endure it being ignored, treated as lesser. His aura swelled.
Pressure crashed across the chamber. The suffocating weight of an Absolute, wielded like a hammer, filled the air. Guards stiffened at the door, hands twitching toward weapons. The atmosphere grew thick, every breath heavier.
Derezz smirked, confident in his superiority.
Then James's eyes sharpened. Scarlet light glinted like knives.
Derezz gasped. His knees buckled, slamming against the floor. Agony coursed through him as though invisible chains twisted his bones, as though fire seared his lungs. His smirk shattered into a choking wheeze.
The guards burst in, rifles raised, energy capacitors humming. They were Eternal-level warriors, steady and disciplined. Yet cold dread crept through their spines. They had felt it the crushing, inescapable authority of this envoy.
James did not rise. He did not flinch. His voice cut through the chamber with surgical calm.
"Change the representative. If not, relations between the Golden Lion Empire and the Tersiac Alliance will deteriorate. Choose someone capable of discourse. This man is unfit."
The pressure lifted. Derezz collapsed fully, gasping like a man dragged from drowning. The guards dragged him out without protest, their discipline shaken.
Silence held.
Then footsteps echoed.
The leader of the Tersiac Alliance entered, face solemn. He bowed low.
"Envoy of the Golden Lion Empire, forgive us. Our hospitality has been lacking. The offense committed by Derezz will not be repeated."
James inclined his head with a gracious smile.
"It is forgotten. Let us speak properly now."
The true negotiations began.
The Alliance offered Dilithium a newly discovered mineral, strange in its properties, not yet fully understood even by their own scientists. They knew only that it was powerful, volatile, a key that might unlock advances yet unimagined.
In return, they sought Adamantium and Voidsteel, resources the Golden Lion Empire possessed in great abundance.
The exchange was simple in concept but monumental in consequence. For the Empire, Dilithium was profit wrapped in possibility, a gift of knowledge and opportunity. For the Alliance, Adamantium and Voidsteel were the anchors of strength, metals to fortify fleets and fortresses.
The deal was struck. Handshakes sealed it, satisfaction glinting on both sides.
When James departed the central planet, he left not only an agreement but a tremor of awe and fear. The tale of Representative Derezz's humiliation spread swiftly, whispered in halls of power, repeated with a shiver.
That very night, the Alliance council convened in secrecy.
Derezz was dragged in, pale and trembling. His arrogance was gone, shattered like pottery struck by a hammer. The council erupted in fury.
"Do you understand what you nearly cost us?""One envoy, one negotiation and you almost doomed our path to ascension!""The Golden Lion Empire is beyond us. If war had come, our hopes of rising further would have been destroyed. We would be shackled as Type III forever!"
Derezz bowed his head, shame flooding his face. Words failed him.
The leaders' stance became clear. The Golden Lion Empire was not to be trifled with. They were allies now, partners in a trade that could shape centuries to come. Any who threatened that bond would be cast out without mercy.
So the Tersiac Alliance moved forward chastened, wiser, bound by the first threads of friendship with the Golden Lion Empire.
As for James Furn, he was already gone, his carrier a shadow slipping into the void. Calm, unbothered, his eyes scanned the horizons once again, ever searching for the next frontier.