Brevan
The Astrae Ballroom lived up to its name.
Every surface caught light and multiplied it.
Walls of sculpted glass rose three stories, refracting the manufactured sunset into geometric patterns that moved across the floor.
Servers circulated carrying drinks that cost more than most species earned in a month.
The guest list read like a directory of the sector’s wealthiest collectors and most corrupt politicians.
I’d seen a hundred rooms like this. Different planets, same performance.
I gave my cuffs a final tug and stepped through the entrance.
Conversations didn’t stop. That would have been too obvious. But the quality of attention shifted. Species who’d been focused on their own negotiations now tracked my movement. Assessing. Calculating. Deciding whether I represented opportunity or threat.
“Mr. Korven.” A Lyrikan female approached, her posture relaxed but her attention focused. “I heard you made quite an impression at the Aphelion Club. Senator Valerius was very complimentary.”
“The senator is generous.” I smiled, letting charm do what violence couldn’t. “Though I suspect his compliments had more to do with the credits I left at his table than my company.”
She laughed. Genuine amusement. “Honesty. How refreshing. Most Vinduthi I’ve met prefer intimidation.”
“Most Vinduthi you’ve met aren’t trying to do business on Valyria.” I accepted a drink from a passing server. Something amber in crystal. “I find intimidation limits opportunities.”
“Smart philosophy.” She gestured to the room. “Have you met many of tonight’s guests?”
“Not yet. I was hoping for introductions.”
“Then you’re in luck.” She linked her arm through mine, a deliberate display of association. “Come. Let me show you who matters.”
The next twenty minutes followed a script I knew by heart.
The Orlian shipping magnate. The Fanaith designer.
Two Nerath brothers who owned mining operations.
I charmed them all. Compliments tailored to each species’ values.
Questions that suggested interest without revealing ignorance.
The careful balance of confidence and deference that made people feel important while establishing myself as worthy of their time.
A Mondian near the bar raised his glass to me. I’d met him at the reception. He traded in rare minerals and had opinions about Vinduthi honor codes. I returned the gesture and made a mental note to avoid him unless necessary.
“Quite the social butterfly.” Senator Valerius appeared at my elbow, his voice carrying amusement. “I’m impressed, Mr. Korven. Most newcomers to Valyria spend their first gala trying to avoid embarrassment. You’re actively courting attention.”
“Attention creates opportunities.” I turned to face him. “And I’m here for opportunities.”
“So I’ve heard.” He leaned closer, his tone dropping to something more private. “Though I’m curious which opportunities interest you most. Business? Art? Political connections?”
“All of the above. I don’t limit myself unnecessarily.”
“A flexible philosophy.” He sipped his drink. “Though I wonder if Senator Tarsus appreciates your flexibility. He seems to prefer exclusive relationships.”
“Then it’s fortunate I haven’t committed to anything exclusive yet.”
His smile widened. Pleasure at the implied competition. “Indeed. Perhaps we should discuss terms? I have several ventures that could benefit from a partner with your particular talents. We could make arrangements that don’t require Tarsus’s oversight.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He moved away, satisfied he’d made his play. I watched him go and calculated the timing. Valerius thought he’d been poaching Tarsus’s newest asset. Tarsus would hear about this conversation within minutes. The rivalry would intensify exactly as planned.
The room’s energy shifted.
Tarsus had arrived.
He moved through the crowd like he owned it. Which he did. This was his villa, his gala, his carefully curated display of wealth and influence. Species parted to let him pass. Conversations adjusted to include him. Power recognized and deferred to power.
And behind him, keeping exactly three steps back, walked Carys.
The silver dress caught every light in the room. Backless. Low neckline. Her dark hair had been styled away from her face, exposing her throat.
A muscle in my jaw jumped. I forced it to relax.
Seeing her in that dress, wearing that collar, staying three steps behind like a trained animal. Something in my chest wanted to burn the entire building down.
I took a drink instead.
Tarsus made his rounds. Greeting guests. Accepting compliments. Gesturing occasionally to Carys, who would step forward and provide whatever expertise he required. She authenticated jewelry. Identified forgeries. Answered questions about provenance and historical significance.
She was brilliant. Professional. Perfectly controlled.
And everyone in this room looked at her like she was another piece in Tarsus’s collection.
“Mr. Korven.” He’d spotted me. His posture straightened as he approached, all deliberate authority. “I’m glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” I gestured to the room. “Impressive gathering.”
“Only the most influential collectors.” He signaled to Carys. She moved forward immediately, stopping beside him. “You’ve met my curator.”
“We’ve had the pleasure.” I met her eyes briefly. Brown. Sharp. Completely unreadable. “She provided an excellent consultation.”
“She’s quite valuable.” Tarsus’s hand settled on her shoulder. Ownership displayed as casual touch. “I’m very fortunate to have acquired her contract when I did. Human experts are increasingly rare.”
“Indeed.” I kept my voice pleasant. Interested. Not revealing the fury building behind my performance. “You have excellent taste, Senator.”
“In all things.” His hand slid from her shoulder to her collar, one finger tracing the platinum edge. “This piece, for example. Custom designed. Platinum alloy biometric locks. Both functional and aesthetically pleasing.”
Carys didn’t react. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. She stood perfectly still while Tarsus touched her collar like he was showing off a particularly fine sculpture.
I wanted to break his fingers.
I smiled instead. “Beautiful craftsmanship.”
“Of course.” He dismissed Carys without looking at her. “Continue your rounds, my dear. Make sure everyone understands the value of having expertise available.”
She left. Three steps back, then moving through the crowd. I watched her go, tracking her path. She wasn’t just mingling. She was moving toward the ballroom’s main control panel. She was getting into position.
Tarsus watched her go. “Remarkable investment. Her contract was expensive, but she’s paid for herself three times over in commission fees alone.”
“I’m sure she has.” I finished my drink. “Though I imagine finding someone with her qualifications was difficult.”
“She’s an exception to the general human rabble.” His gaze tracked Carys. “Which is why I’m very careful about her security. Theft is always a concern with valuable assets.”
“A reasonable precaution.”
“I’m glad you understand.” He moved closer, his voice dropping slightly. “I noticed you had another conversation with Senator Valerius earlier. He seemed quite interested in your business.”
“Did he?” I kept my tone neutral. “He approached me with what sounded like a private business proposition.”
“Of course he did.” His shoulders tensed. “That’s his specialty. Poaching promising relationships before they’re properly established.”
“He mentioned several ventures that might interest me.”
“I’m sure he did. And what did you tell him?”
“That I was here as your guest. That any business discussions would naturally include you first.” I met his eyes. Respectful but not submissive. “Though I admit, his offer was generous.”
“Generous.” Danger edged his voice. “I’m sure it was. Valerius excels at making generous offers for things that don’t belong to him.”
Perfect. He was jealous, threatened, exactly where I needed him.
“Senator, you extended the invitation to this gala. You’ve shown me your collection. You’ve offered potential arrangements.” I gestured around the ballroom. “Why would I jeopardize that relationship by entertaining Valerius’s attempts to circumvent your patronage?”
His posture relaxed slightly. “Good. I’d hate to think my hospitality was being misused.”
“Never.”
He nodded, satisfied. He was about to move on, to greet another group. It was time. My part of the plan was to start the fire. I opened my mouth, ready to call Valerius out, to make this a public spectacle.
Then the world went red.
The manufactured sunset on the walls glitched, stuttered, and died. The main lights flickered and went out. The room plunged into darkness for a second before red emergency lights kicked on, bathing the ballroom in a bloody, pulsing glow.
A building-wide alarm blared. Not a polite chime. A shrieking, industrial warning.
“SYSTEMS FAILURE. ALL LEVELS. CONTAINMENT brEACH DETECTED IN SECTOR FOUR.”
Panic.
Guests shouted. A Lyrikan stumbled. A Fanaith couple clutched each other.
Tarsus spun around, his face a mask of fury. His entire security detail, the Mondian, the Nerath, the Krelaxian, all drew weapons. They weren’t watching me or Valerius anymore. They were focused on the physical threat.
“Secure the perimeter!” Tarsus roared. “Find out what that breach is! Get the guests to the safe rooms!”
The ballroom was in chaos. In the pulsing red light and the shrieking alarm, I saw Carys.
She stood near the wall panel, twenty meters away. She was looking right at me. She wasn’t panicked. She wasn’t screaming.
She was waiting.
She’d done it. This was her move, launched under the cover of my social maneuvering.
I nodded once, a sharp dip of my chin. Go.
She nodded back. Get the sculpture.
I turned and moved toward the exit corridor. The guards were all facing the other way, trying to control the crowd. No one saw me go.