The war-room of Duke Arturus Frendis was a vault of cold, calculated power. One entire wall was a single pane of transparent alloy, offering a sweeping, silent view of Artanis Prime’s capital spires, glittering like shards of ice under a binary sun. The other walls were dominated by tactical holomaps, their light painting the grim faces of his commanders and senior officers in shifting blues and golds. The air hummed with the low thrum of climate control and unspoken tension.

“The Emperor’s decree is clear,” Arturus said, his voice a low gravel that seemed to absorb the room’s sound. He stood with his back to the view, his hands clasped behind the severe cut of his charcoal-grey uniform. “The unaligned coreworld territories along the Veridian March are to be brought into the Imperial fold. By treaty, or by force. The calculus is simple: their resources stabilize the core. A stable core projects strength. Strength deters… chaos.”

An older officer, Commander Livius, leaned forward, his knuckles resting on the polished obsidian table. “And the Outerworlds, my lord? The briefing scrolls from the Imperial Chancery speak of ‘potential integration’. But the reports from our scouts in the Fringe tell a different story. They are not simply unwilling. They are militantly, philosophically opposed. They call the Imperium a gilded cage.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the council. Arturus’s jaw tightened. He knew the reports. He’d read the casualty lists from the last ‘diplomatic escort’ mission that had strayed too close to the Hydrax System.

“The Outerworlds are a different equation,” Arturus conceded, turning to gaze at the star-flecked blackness of the holomap. “They have known nothing but neglect and extraction for ten generations. You cannot annex a people who define themselves by their resistance to you. The Emperor, however, believes a show of Imperial grace, coupled with our formidable presence, may yet sway opinion.”

It was his chief political advisor, a slender woman named Senator Kaela, who voiced the delicate truth. “With respect, Duke, the Emperor does not merely believe it. He has mandated it. And he has appointed you as the primary ambassador for this… outreach. The delegation arriving today from the Outerworld Concord is your first test. Their reception here, in your hall, will be your introduction to their people. And theirs to the new face of Imperial authority.”

The weight of the role settled on Arturus’s shoulders. Ambassador. Not …