Salty air howled against the hull of the Drifting Ember as port cranes finished loading the last of the crates.

  Below the cliffs, the sea tore itself white against granite.

  Above the market noise and salt-thick air, the Ember’s internal systems hummed with patient precision.

  In the forward workshop bay, the probe lay in pieces.

  Thimble had cleared an entire magbench for it. Panels floated in careful suspension fields. Memory cores rested in neat geometric clusters. The cracked outer chassis sat open like a split skull.

  Karn stood at the bulkhead, arms folded.

  Ironbelly said nothing.

  Thimble’s mechanical fingers moved with surgical aggression.

  “It attempted to wipe itself on impact,” she muttered. “Fail-safe burn protocol partially engaged. Amateurish redundancy layering.”

  “Amateur?” Karn asked dryly.

  “For someone who assumes omniscience,” she corrected.

  Ember’s voice threaded softly through the chamber.

  “I am reconstructing corrupted sectors.”

  An exploded holographic view of data expanded above the bench — threads of fractured data weaving themselves into shape.

  Fragments appeared.

  Navigation vectors. Tracking logs. Authorization chains.

  Ironbelly stepped closer.

  “Origin.”

  “Uncertain,” Ember replied. “The probe utilized relay routing through non-aligned nodes. Obfuscation layered through civilian channels.”

  “Smart.”

  “Yes.”

  Thimble extracted a cylindrical core from the inner housing and connected it to her interface ports.

  Her eyes flickered green.

  Silence stretched.

  Then—her hands stopped.

  “Captain.”

  Ironbelly did not look away from the hologram.

  “There’s a watermark embedded in the encryption script.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Ember projected it. Not obvious. Subtle.

  A crest interwoven through the data architecture like a signature stitched into silk. Three interlocking blades arranged in a downward spiral.

  Karn straightened slightly.

  Ironbelly’s breathing did not change.

  “Identify,” he said.

  Ember’s tone lowered a fraction.

  “Authorization tree routes through Nobility Compact clearance.”

  The room felt smaller.

  “And?” Ironbelly asked.

  “Primary authentication seal references House Voss.”

  Ember paused—an imitation of hesitation it didn’t need.

  “And it’s real.”

  No one moved.

  Outside, wind struck the hull again — a low metallic tremor.

  Thimble swallowed.

  Karn’s jaw tightened.

  “Confirm.”

  “Triple verification complete,” Ember replied. “Signature authentic. Cryptographic structure consistent with prior Compact enforcement filings.”

  House Voss.

  Not a mercenary contract. Not a random bounty network.

  Nobility.

  Oversight. Resources. Patience.

  Ironbelly stepped forward and rested one claw against the probe’s fractured casing.

  The metal was cool.

  “This confirms they weren’t targeting Shor’kai,” he said quietly.

  “No,” Ember agreed.

  “Tracking pattern indicates wide-net sweeps along recent transit corridors.”

  Karn’s eyes shifted toward the viewport.

  “They’re mapping.”

  Ironbelly nodded once.

  Thimble resumed working, though slower now.

  “They didn't transmit a successful burst,” she said. “The bullet impact severed primary uplink pathways.”

  “Impact vector?” Karn asked.

  “Local munitions. High-caliber. Likely coastal defense or opportunistic fire.”

  Ironbelly allowed himself a brief flicker of approval.

  Shor’kai did not tolerate unknown machines in its sky.

  Ember’s hologram shifted. A fragment of the probe’s last active log scrolled across the air. Signal acquisition attempts. Passive scans. Energy signatures flagged. One line highlighted in red.

  An anomaly designation.

  Thimble magnified it. Her breathing grew shallow.

  “Captain…”

  Ironbelly leaned closer.

  “Say it.”

  “One of the sister probes tagged a null fluctuation spike. Passed the data packet along.”

  No one breathed.

  Ben.

  Ember confirmed: “The anomaly signature aligns with previous readings associated with Benjamin Bernard Barnaby.”

  Karn exhaled through his nose.

  “So they found him.”

  “Not necessarily,” Ember corrected. “We do not know how many more, if any, data packets that were transmitted. Sent or received.”

  Ironbelly straightened slowly.

  “How many sweeps?”

  “Unknown. This unit operated independently but referenced sister nodes.”

  “How many sisters?”

  “Approximately five thousand active sister nodes, sir.”

  Thimble pulled the final intact memory shard free.

  “That’s everything recoverable,” she said. “There's nothing else.”

  Ironbelly stared at the crest suspended above the bench.

  House Voss.

  He'd crossed corporations. Outmaneuvered syndicates. Smuggled through Compact territory without permission.

  But House Voss did not hunt lightly.

  If they were mapping null anomalies—

  Ashfall was not hidden. It was merely unconfirmed.

  “Estimate,” he said.

  Ember responded immediately. “If additional probes survived atmospheric insertion, confirmation windows could occur within weeks.”

  “Too long.”

  Karn unfolded his arms. “We go back.”

  Ironbelly didn’t answer. He was already calculating.

  Shor’kai was safe. Ashfall was not.

  And Ben—he was a beacon they didn't yet understand.

  “They’re not fishing,” Ironbelly said.

  Ember’s lights dimmed a fraction. “No.”

  Ironbelly’s jaw set.

  “It’s an audit.”

  That word settled like iron.

  House Voss did not send scouts out of curiosity.

  They sent them for confirmation.

  Ironbelly deactivated the hologram with a single motion.

  “Strip the rest,” he ordered Thimble. “Every fragment. I want nothing left intact.”

  Ember’s tone shifted subtly. “Captain, there is one additional inference I can confidently give.”

  “Give it.”

  “House Voss rarely operates without parallel intelligence channels.”

  Ironbelly understood immediately.

  They wouldn’t rely on probes alone. They would verify through information networks.

  Political channels. Compact whispers. Corporate analysts.

  Which meant—he turned toward the corridor.

  “Where is Elara now?”