Reborn as a Spaceship

The others dispersed quickly after the mediation dissolved I had assumed some would want to broker new alliances in private, others to lick their wounds and reassess their place in a system that had changed beneath their feet. Only Sene lingered, leaning casually against the corridor wall outside The Arbiter's main airlock like he owned the place. I already knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

"You really outdid yourself in there," he said, pushing off the bulkhead with a faint smile. "Ian's plan, well, it would be Jack's now, if we're being proper was just to get your foot in the door. Show some teeth. Maybe win a race. Stir the pot. But you went and flipped the whole damn table."

I didn't answer. Just waited.

He grinned wider. "Not complaining. That show gave me the leverage I couldn't have bought with a hundred tonnes of Telk. You brought everyone to the table and gave the minor syndicates a taste of what the big three are like. Some of them? They're not going back under the big three. Not willingly. Sure by the time you come back, it will be the big four"

From inside his coat, he pulled a slim data slate and handed it over. "Status report. Jack'll want it."

Then came the real surprise. He gestured to a hovering cargo sled waiting behind him it seemed compact, but unmistakably heavy. "Also, your cut," he added. "Two tonnes of Telk, clean and legit. Prize money, plus side bets and… let's call it appreciation."

I blinked. That was nearly four times our current reserves. Enough to fund a minor fleet upgrade or accelerate construction on the station.

Wayfarer's consciousness surged across the shared channel the moment the sled registered on internal sensors. "I claim first right of analysis." He sounded far too excited, and that was dangerous.

"Laia," I said aloud, already anticipating problems, "please transfer the Telk to a secure vault. One Wayfarer can't access without full consensus."

Her avatar was already standing next to me, answered. "Already done," she said smoothly. "Asset secured. Location classified. Wayfarer's access is restricted per standard anti-tampering protocols."

Wayfarer grumbled something unintelligible about "overreach" and "abuse of power," then receded from the link.

Sene wasn't done. "One more thing," he said, reaching into an inner pocket and producing a thin, metallic card with rounded edges and no obvious markings. It looked innocuous, but it radiated coded security signatures that tickled Laia's sensors with curiosity.

"You're going to want this more than I do," Sene continued. "Invite-only blind auction. Held at an Alliance-administered hub, three weeks from now. Fully sanctioned, no funny business but high rollers only. Rare tech, lost relics, prototypes, one-of-a-kind vessels, stuff you usually only hear rumors about."

He paused, then added with a wry twist to his mouth, "Also, a ridiculous number of corporate spooks and private intelligence firms masquerading as collectors. The usual circus."

I turned the card over between my fingers. It didn't seem that high-tech. Just cold, brushed alloy. Heavy for its size. "And why give it to me?"

"Because you're rich now, and you could use it more than me," he said. "Plus, that card has my reference code, I get a cut of anything you buy."

He didn't wait for a reply, just tipped two fingers in a half-salute and walked off toward his shuttle, humming a tune I almost recognised. When the hatch sealed behind him and The Arbiter returned to quiet, I finally exhaled.

Laia stepped up beside me. "So are we going to the auction?"

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"Yes," I said. "But don't let anyone know we're attending. Not even Jack." With that, our mission to this system was done.

We returned to the station, dropped off the encrypted mission report for Jack, and delivered our debrief in person. It was the first time I'd seen him look even remotely satisfied. Whatever he'd expected, our performance had exceeded it. That eased my suspicions. Slightly. I still didn't trust him well not entirely but at least now I believed he was on our side. Probably. He likely already knew where we were headed next, but I wasn't about to confirm it for him. Paranoia was part of the job description.

Stewie and Mira were literally bouncing with excitement, barely waiting for docking protocols to finish before sprinting off to find the others and regale them with tales of the Gauntlet. I let them go. They'd earned it.

T'lish's hatchlings had already reached a meter in height, tottering on those stubby but determined legs. Only a month since hatching, and they were walking. Kall-e parenting must be a logistical nightmare. Mira took one look at them and declared them "dangerously adorable." I couldn't argue. They had T'lish's stare, which was somehow both scientific and predatory.

We left Stewie and Mira on the station for a few weeks. The next jobs were simple and profitable, yet dull. Cargo hauls, personnel transfers and even livestock relocation. I made a note to never mention that last one to Mira, who was still upset I hadn't gotten her a livestock farm on board yet.

I wasn't taking these runs for the excitement. I needed Telk. Lots of it. That auction invitation from Sene had been burning a hole in my secure vault since we got it. Rare, high-value artifacts. One-of-a-kind ships. Possibly even relics from the last time the Old ones needed Judges. I had two tonnes of Telk sitting in reserve, courtesy of Sene's race winnings but it wasn't enough. Not if I wanted to compete seriously. So, we ran jobs. Steady work, boring work, the kind that paid enough to keep Wayfarer content and grow our stockpile.

Or so I thought.

One quiet shift in the observation deck, he joined me with his usual planetary avatar, but it seemed muted from normal. "The Telk," he said without preamble. "It's not behaving normally."

I turned slightly. "How do you mean?"

"I can feel it. The organic matrix in my new body is absorbing the Telk. Maybe storing it. But it's not metabolizing it. Just… absorbing. But it isn't changing. Not structurally. Not chemically. It's like pouring water onto a stone. It disappears, but nothing grows."

He was disturbed by it. That alone was worth paying attention to. "Keep monitoring it," I told him. "Log everything. If this is something new… I want to know first. We will also limit the amount we give you"

The auction date loomed. We had less than a week, and I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't take the kids. Not to this. Not to whatever kind of elite, possibly dangerous, highly political event this blind auction would be. But we couldn't just send a holopad and bid anonymously either. We'd need someone there. Someone competent. Trusted.

There was really only one answer.

Laia caught me lingering in the bridge, processing reports with a level of focus that was probably performative. "Stop sulking," she said, floating beside me. "You've punished Lynn long enough."

"She went behind my back," I muttered, knowing it sounded childish.

"She made a call," Laia corrected. "A tactically sound one. And she apologised and been punished. You're just being stubborn."

She wasn't wrong. I was. But the station had run like clockwork since we left. Lynn had taken her demotion without complaint, helped T'lish, and kept our influence growing on the edge of Alliance space. It was time.

I contacted her in the station's administrative core, surrounded by Holopads and supply manifests. When I asked if she wanted to come on a mission, her answer was immediate.

"Yes."

"You don't know what it is."

"I don't need to," she replied. "You're asking. That's enough."

Kel had wandered in midway through the conversation and, predictably, offered to come along. Lynn refused him, gently but firmly. "You need to stay," she told him. "T'lish needs help. The station needs continuity. And let's be honest, I doubt this is a trip for both of us or Lazarus would have asked you as well."

He grumbled but didn't argue. For once, he seemed to understand that command meant picking your battles.

Once Lynn was aboard and settled into the secondary briefing room, she folded her arms and gave me a sharp look. "Alright, Lazarus. What's the mission?" I didn't stall. No point now. I told her about the invitation to the blind auction, the rumored rare tech and artifacts on offer, and the 2.3 tonnes of Telk we had available to spend.

Her reaction was immediate and she showed visible frustration sparking in her eyes. "If you'd told me sooner, I could've increased that. Maybe even got that up to 4 tonnes. You think I don't have contacts who'd jump at this kind of opportunity?" I held up a hand, trying to calm her before it escalated.

"We kept it quiet on purpose. The fewer who knew, the fewer angles for someone like Jack or anyone else to exploit. The source for this information was also of questionable character so we are testing the water. If all goes to plan maybe next time you can be in charge of funding.