[Katherine’s PoV]

  “Since when?” Katherine asked, her voice calm but carrying the weight of command.

  “Last week, ma’am,” one of the younger officers replied immediately.

  Katherine’s gaze flicked toward him. He was one of John’s transfers, a fresh-faced recruit with sharp eyes and the posture of someone desperate to prove himself. He always answered first, always eager to show he belonged among veterans twice his age.

  'What was his name again?' she thought. 'Tom? Tim? Timothy?'

  “Why so soon?” she pressed.

  “We don’t know, ma’am,” the young officer, Timothy, she remembered, answered. “But he arrived right as the attack on Tros began. Whether that’s a coincidence or something else, the Dardanus are still investigating.”

  He stood perfectly straight as he gave his report, his voice crisp, his expression proud.

  Katherine studied him for a moment, then nodded, placing a hand thoughtfully under her chin. Her boots clicked against the deck as she paced behind her command chair.

  Around her, eight officers waited silently. Two of them were old Academy colleagues, women who had also served in the NEA. The others were loyal to House York, drawn from its ranks or trained under its banner. Together, they formed a disciplined web of minds and loyalties.

  Finally, Katherine stopped pacing and turned to face them.

  “At this moment,” she began, her tone measured but firm, “we have reason to suspect that Atlas of Aquarius is the Green Ranger. Or, at the very least, that he has access to the Green Crystal.”

  A ripple of surprise passed through the room.

  “It’s uncertain whether he’s lent it to a third party,” she continued, “or if there’s more than one crystal in play.”

  One of the officers, a veteran with graying hair and a scar running down his cheek, raised a hand. “Ma’am, didn’t the Green Ranger just attack Tros?”

  “Yes,” Katherine said, turning toward him. “That’s what complicates things. Either Atlas orchestrated the attack himself…” She paused, her gaze sweeping across the group. “…or someone else did, using his power. Or worse—” her voice dropped slightly, “—we may be dealing with more than one Green Ranger.”

  “But why are we investigating him at all?” Timothy asked, his youthful voice cutting through the silence. “Couldn’t we send a few Rangers and take his Gauntlet?”

  Katherine turned to face him, her eyes sharp but patient. “You haven’t faced him, have you?” she asked evenly. “The Green Ranger isn’t something you capture. Not without losses.”

  There was something in her tone. She was wary, yet hints of reluctant admiration were evident. She clasped her hands behind her back. “Even if he isn’t the real Ranger, the chaos alone would be enough to destabilize the peace between the Houses. This wedding is already volatile. We don’t need to add a war to the guest list.”

  The officers exchanged uneasy glances. Some looked skeptical, others confused. None of them had ever seen the Green Ranger in action. To them, he was a story, more legend than man.

  “So our focus is to monitor him?” one officer asked. “You want every soldier keeping tabs on him?”

  Katherine shook her head. “No. We can’t risk that kind of visibility. The moment we move overtly, we’ll draw attention.”

  Another officer raised a hand. “Can’t we scan him? Detect if he’s been in contact with the Green Crystal?”

  Her gaze flicked toward him, calm but firm. “No. The scanners only register Unique Crystals when there’s a high concentration. One crystal alone isn’t enough to trigger a reliable reading.”

  She stepped closer to the holotable. “Avoid deploying soldiers. We’re attending a wedding, not starting a siege. Too many eyes, too many ears. For now, you eight are my personal guard and the only ones who know our mission.”

  Her gaze swept across them, steady and commanding. “We’ll rotate shifts. Each of you will take turns keeping watch, quietly, while we gather more intelligence.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the eight officers replied almost in unison, their voices blending into a disciplined chorus.

  Katherine nodded once, satisfied.

  Then the comm crackled to life, the pilot’s voice breaking through the tension. “Docking sequence engaged. The Selene will land first. We’re cleared to follow immediately after.”

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  --

  “Each Great House will be lodged within one of the estates in Sector Eleven,” one of the Dardanus envoys explained as they led the York delegation down the wide cobblestone path. The faint hum of grav-lifts and distant drones echoed softly around them. “This sector is quieter and more secure. Untouched by the recent attacks. It requires no immediate repair.”

  Katherine followed the envoy’s gesture toward the horizon. Ahead rose a sprawling mansion, its facade white and gleaming beneath the artificial sky. For a moment, she forgot she was aboard a station. The estate looked serene, surrounded by manicured fields of softly swaying synthetic grass.

  “Each residence has two levels,” the envoy continued, stopping before the grand entrance. “We recommend the heirs and delegates remain on the upper floor. It makes it easier for your protection team.”

  Katherine nodded in agreement, her expression calm and composed.

  “If you follow that road,” the envoy added, pointing toward a winding path that disappeared into the distance, “you’ll reach the commercial district. From there, you can access the trade hub that connects all sectors of the station.”

  “Got it,” Katherine answered.

  The envoy bowed slightly before departing with their attendants, leaving Katherine and her officers standing before the mansion’s towering doors.

  After settling into the mansion, the artificial sunlight had dipped low. The simulated sky deepened into twilight. Katherine stifled a yawn, exhaustion tugging at her eyes. It had been a long day of briefings, diplomacy, and missions.

  Yet a movement outside caught her attention.

  A figure approached across the field. A young woman dressed in pristine white stopped close to the mansion's entrance. She carried the emblem of House Selene, which gleamed on her chest.

  “Lady York,” the woman said, bowing gracefully with one hand pressed to her heart. “Lord Pollux requests your presence at the Commercial Hub.”

  'Not again,' Katherine thought, though her face betrayed nothing.

  The envoy hesitated, then added, “Lady Helen also extends her invitation.”

  That drew a faint breath of relief from Katherine. 'Less bad,' she thought dryly.

  “Inform them I’ll be along shortly,” she said, her tone polite but clipped. “I look forward to seeing them.”

  “Of course, my lady.” The envoy bowed once more before turning.

  Katherine watched her go before exhaling quietly.

  “I can accompany you,” Timothy said suddenly, stepping forward. His eagerness was palpable, his smile a little too confident. “For security.”

  Katherine studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. You and two others,” she said, gesturing toward a pair of nearby officers.

  “Let’s not keep them waiting,” she said, her voice steady as she stepped forward.

  --

  Though every district of the station could be reached on foot, the high-speed maglev trains were the arteries that truly connected the colossal habitat.

  Sector 15 was the beating heart, where every line converged. Trade, travel, and diplomacy intertwined in a constant rush of sound and light.

  Towering structures stretched upward into the artificial sky. Hover-cars weaved between the spires, cargo drones zipped along, and the roar of engines mingled with the hum of the station’s power grid.

  Katherine stepped off the transport platform, the sound of her boots drowned by the chaos around her.

  “Katherine!”

  She turned sharply, scanning the crowd.

  Through the blur of motion, she spotted a slender figure waving from across the plaza. A young woman with long black hair and a dignified, almost severe expression. Her attire was unmistakable, pristine white robes adorned with the twin moons of House Selene.

  “Helen!” Katherine called back, her tone lifting with a mix of surprise and genuine warmth. She crossed the distance quickly, arms outstretched for an embrace.

  It had been months since they’d last met. Though they’d never been close, the two shared the bond of circumstance. Both were princesses of Great Houses, raised under the same expectations, shaped by the same political games.

  “It’s been too long,” Helen said, smiling faintly as they parted. “Pollux was just talking about you.”

  Katherine’s expression faltered for a heartbeat before she caught herself. Her eyes flicked away, betraying her lack of enthusiasm at the mention of his name.

  Helen noticed, of course. She always did. “Don’t worry,” she said lightly. “He’s running late. We have some time before he arrives. Why don’t we explore the station?”

  Katherine hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

  Even if she wasn’t particularly interested, it was better than standing still.

  Together they moved through the crowded avenues, their guards following at a respectful distance. The hub was a labyrinth of commerce. Holo-bazaars displaying artifacts, food stalls releasing tantalizing scents into the air, and traders shouting prices. Katherine found herself studying the details on the storefront displays.

  For a moment, she almost forgot her mission.

  Then, a light touch on her shoulder pulled her back.

  Timothy was beside her, his expression sharp. He didn’t speak, only pointed across the street.

  Katherine followed his gesture and froze.

  At the far end of the avenue, half-hidden among the bustling crowd, Atlas moved with two companions. His pace was hurried, his posture tense, as if he were trying not to be noticed. They slipped into a narrow side street, disappearing behind the glow of a flickering sign.

  Katherine’s pulse quickened.

  “Give me a moment,” she said, forcing her tone to remain casual. “I saw someone I need to speak with.”

  Helen blinked, confused. “Of course.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Katherine said, already turning away.

  Whatever Atlas was doing here, it wasn’t a coincidence.

  'I'll find out why.'

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