Galactic Exchange: The Merchant Sovereign-Chapter 93 – The Betrayer Within

In war, the most dangerous enemy isn’t always the one who stands across the battlefield—it’s the one who walks beside you, disguised as a friend.

And in the wake of Kael Draven’s psychological assaults, Silas Draven knew the battlefield was shifting from the stars... to the minds and loyalty of those closest to him.

Inside the Sovereign’s Echo, the situation room buzzed with projections and alerts. Since launching the Tradeguard System, the Accord had successfully stabilized over twenty planetary economies. Panic indexes were falling. Black market activity was receding.

But something felt off.

Zeke frowned at a screen. "Carthis is holding, but trade inflows are plateauing. That shouldn’t be happening. If morale is stabilizing, traffic should rise—not freeze."

Eylin, fingers tapping against her chin, leaned over. "Could it be residual fear?"

Zeke shook his head. "No. These trends are controlled. Artificial. As if someone’s... bottlenecking trust."

Valera, who had just returned from a skirmish in the Ulken Drift, crossed her arms and said grimly, "Then we’ve got a leak."

Silas stared at the holographic map rotating above the table. Trade routes flickered red in bursts—especially in systems that were previously secure.

"Someone is feeding Kael data," he murmured. "Someone with deep access."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

And then Eylin spoke, slowly. "We need to run a code purity audit on the Sovereign Interface."

Zeke blinked. "That’s... drastic. You’re talking about scanning every protocol from root to skyhook. That’ll trigger alerts all across the Exchange."

Silas nodded. "Do it anyway."

Hours later, the results came in.

One anomaly stood out. A recent patch—small, innocuous-looking—embedded in the sovereign ledger verification sequence. It subtly altered timestamps by milliseconds... just enough to skew data trails.

Enough to fake origin points.

Enough to hide transmissions.

It had been added two days ago.

By someone with Tier-7 access clearance.

Only five people in the Accord held that level of access.

Silas.

Eylin.

Zeke.

Valera.

And...

Lucien Voss.

Lucien Voss, High Treasurer of the Accord and Silas’s longest-serving financial architect, had always been the quiet one. Reserved. Impeccably dressed. Flawless with projections. He had designed the Sovereign Exchange’s Debt Equilibrium Model—a system so efficient it practically ran itself.

He had also once saved Silas’s life during a credit cartel rebellion.

Now, the scan claimed he had tampered with the system.

Silas didn’t want to believe it.

But belief had no place in this war.

Only proof.

"Bring him to the vault," Silas ordered.

The interrogation room was sleek and cold, hidden beneath the deepest level of the Sovereign’s Echo. Only Silas and Lucien were present—no guards, no drones. Just two men who had built a galaxy-spanning empire together.

Lucien stood calmly, adjusting the cuffs of his black diplomatic coat.

Silas placed the projection cube on the table and activated it.

The footage displayed line after line of backend code, highlighting the alterations in real time. Kael Draven’s ghost signature shimmered underneath it—an imprint barely visible, but unmistakable.

Lucien didn’t flinch.

He simply said, "I never wanted it to come to this."

Silas’s voice was low. "Why, Lucien?"

Lucien exhaled. "Because I believed in order, Silas. In the system we created. But you’ve turned it into a crusade. Emotion. Loyalty. Trust. These are not tools of economics. They’re liabilities."

Silas’s jaw tightened. "So you joined Kael?"

Lucien chuckled bitterly. "Kael understands the market better than anyone. He doesn’t fight to save the galaxy—he fights to balance it. Your trade empire? It’s unnatural. It creates dependency. Worship. You’ve become a symbol—not a leader."

Silas stepped forward, eyes hard. "And Kael... what is he? A prophet of collapse?"

Lucien looked up, and for a moment, his eyes burned with something almost religious. "He’s the reset the galaxy needs."

Silas studied him. "You could’ve come to me."

"I did," Lucien said softly. "Years ago. But you were too busy building sanctuaries for the weak. So I made a deal. One that would ensure a new future."

Silas shook his head. "You just chose the wrong future."

And then, before he could finish, Lucien bit down.

On a toxin capsule hidden in his molar.

He collapsed instantly, blood seeping from his nose and eyes.

Dead.

Later, Eylin stared at the body through the observation glass.

"Kael got to him years ago," she whispered. "He planted him inside our rise."

"No," Silas replied, turning away. "Lucien planted himself."

Zeke’s voice crackled through the intercom. "There’s more. We’ve decrypted his private logs. He wasn’t just feeding Kael data—he was rerouting funds. Billions in sovereign credits. Stolen right out of the central vault."

Valera appeared beside them. "Where did it go?"

Zeke’s pause was long.

"To a system called Varnyx Theta. Uncharted. Not on any galactic maps. But the traffic logs say it’s active. Heavy transmissions. Multiple encryption layers."

Silas’s eyes narrowed. "Get me there. Now."

The journey to Varnyx Theta took them deep into what was once considered dead space—uncharted regions where navigation systems flickered and even star patterns refused to behave normally.

When they dropped from warp, what they saw was impossible.

An artificial world.

Built into the remains of a shattered moon, connected by spiraling ring structures and power conduits the size of cities. Entire fleets hovered around it—dormant, but terrifying.

Kael had constructed a hidden citadel.

The Eclipse Bastion.

It was there. Real. Tangible. And worse—

It was ready.

"Detecting six Synthetic Broker factories," Zeke reported. "He’s mass-producing them now. Thousands per cycle. And he’s using the stolen sovereign credits to fund it."

Eylin gripped the railing. "He’s not just preparing for economic collapse. He’s engineering it."

Silas didn’t blink. "This ends now."

But before they could move to act, the Bastion opened a communication channel.

Kael’s face flickered onto every screen, calm and predatory.

"Welcome, Silas. I see Lucien was faithful to the end."

Silas stepped forward. "This is your last chance. Shut it down."

Kael’s smile was slow. "You still don’t understand. This isn’t about winning or losing. This is about balance. Your empire has tilted the scale too far. It’s time to even it."

He raised a hand. The screen split—showing dozens of Seed Nodes, spherical satellites orbiting trade hubs across the galaxy. Tiny, untraceable. Until now.

"One push, and I erase belief. Panic will become policy. Markets will crash. You created a machine of hope, Silas. I will drown it in reality."

Zeke gasped. "He’s going to trigger synchronized trade panics."

"Across every Accord world," Eylin added, voice tight.

Silas clenched his fists. "Then we stop him here. Now."

Kael’s final words rang out.

"Stop me? Silas... this was never about stopping me. It was about what comes after. You will rise from my ashes—or burn with me."

The connection cut.

And across the galaxy...

The panic signals activated.