Sukachyov Valeriy Mikhailovich had lived through much change in his life.

He’d suffered poverty at the hands of useless nobles, seen his birthworld reduced to ruin and been chased out of his home twice now.

But Valeriy was also a simple man, an adaptable man.

He had food in his stomach, fresh oxygen in his lungs and a roof over his head. Romance had failed him many times, but familial love made up for all that. And for all the friends he’d lost along the way, by disagreement or misfortune, he’d gained many more.

“Valeriy, my man!” Liam McAvoy greeted him with an earnest smile, dressed in a sharp black suit. “How’d you sleep?”

“Weird. Woke up dizzy, and I’m still cold.” Valeriy rubbed at his forearms.

“Mhm, cryo is weird like that.” Liam nodded in agreement, shivering lightly.

The two walked towards the exit of the busy hangar bay, their assistants trailing behind them. All four of them looked like foreigners onboard the warship, dressed in civilian clothes and having served not a day in the military. Thankfully, it wasn’t their first time on a naval ship. It wasn’t even their first time in this specific warship.

A red-haired lieutenant approached them, stopping a few paces away.

“Mr. Sukachyov, Mr. McAvoy, welcome aboard the Vanguard’s Hymn. I hope the shuttle ride wasn’t too rough?”

“Not in the slightest.” Liam shook his head.

“A bit chilly though.” Valeriy added.

Lieutenant Cory Gaines nodded in sympathy. “An unfortunate side-effect of the cryogenic stasis process, and one that humanity has been trying to crack since we could count the number of inhabited worlds on one hand. Now, please follow me; his Grace is waiting for you in his quarters.”

+++

“It is good to see you, Your Grace.” The two businessmen bowed deeply as they entered the dining room.

“Valeriy, Liam, it is good to see you too.” James smiled, gesturing for the two to take the last remaining seats along the dining table where, just yesterday, he’d negotiated the purchase of Pollux V. “Please, take a seat so that we may begin.”

As the pair got situated, James looked around the table, where he’d gathered the so-called ‘colonization commitee. From top navy officers and the chief engineers of his fleet logistics ships to top industrialists and scientists.

The men and women gathered here would be the heads of industry, economy and defense in the dynasty’s nascent steps in this new world they’d found themselves in.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m sure you’re all feeling rather cold after waking up this morning, so I’ve gone ahead and asked the galley to prepare a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, hash browns and spiced direboar sausages.”

Satisfied nods and smirks erupted around the table. James smiled; no matter the situation, food always brought people together, and it made them far more agreeable to unsavory plans.

No more than a minute later, galley staff brought in platters, dishes, cutlery and coffee pots. The food was hardly ‘exotic’ or ‘expensive’ by the standards of the Imperium, but akritan culture never managed to mesh with the peaceful imperial core’s over-the-top luxurious trends.

His closest allies ate to their hearts’ content, and they all made sure to compliment the chef. His steward, Francine Schmidt-Akrites —his aunt twice removed—, was a sweet woman to all, except those that badmouthed her food. James still had fond memories of the Imperial envoy who’d complained about the ‘cheap’ steak and ended up shitting himself during a meeting with his father.

‘I wonder what concessions he gave for ruining the carpet…those laxatives must’ve been fit for a cow.’

Within twenty minutes, the platters of food had been virtually licked clean, and by the half-hour mark everybody was primed, ready and sipping on some delicious matcha tea. The drink had been a staple of Akritan cuisine for nearly three hundred centuries, one of the few Imperial trends that had not only managed to catch on to the dynasty’s culture but embed itself in it permanently.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” James called for their attention. “Now that we’re done with our meal, I would like to answer a question I’m sure you’re all thinking. ‘Where are we?’. Commander Noriega will give you all a short explanation. Commander?”

“Certainly, Your Grace. As you all know…”

…

The news had been received…well. Surprisingly well, considering these individuals weren’t soldiers but civilians at the end of the day. There was no denial, no violence or madness —not that James had expected any of them— but the atmosphere hadn’t turned sombre either. More than anything, the men and women of his ‘inner circle’ looked intrigued.

“So…there are other humans?” Sukachyov Valeriy’s asked, leaning into the table.

“Quite.” James nodded. “There’s nothing ‘off’ with them that I’ve noticed; they seemed perfectly agreeable, and our discreet tests of their blood, sweat and saliva showed no diseases or maladies that might prove harmful.”

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“That is good, no?” Valeriy asked, receiving a number of hesitant nods from around the table. “There is opportunity for trade, and therefore there is opportunity for advancement. Away from the Vogdi blockades and the stagnancy of the Imperium.”

“It is good. Very good, I daresay.” Carl Schreiber agreed, his ever-conservative demeanor brightening. The manufacturing magnate and trained engineer was as cold as the void; to see him smile ever-so-slightly was a sign of pure happiness.

Everybody joined in agreement, smiling and even cheering. Their reaction was wholly opposite to the panicked confusion James had expected, but he wasn’t one to waste a chance to boost morale —and drink some more matcha tea to boot—. Of course, he wasn’t about to serve the others tea; half of them would toss him out of the nearest airlock while the others emptied his dusted liquor cabinet of every drop.

“A toast, then.” He proposed, turning to his flag lieutenant. “Lieutenant Gaines, would you please bring us that bottle of scotch inside the cabinet hanging off the wall, along with a dozen of those glasses? Yes, that one, thank you.”

The men and women passed around the stack of crystal glasses and each poured themselves a finger of the caramel-gold liquor inside the aged bottle. Of course, James refused.

Officially, he wouldn’t drink a drop because he was in uniform onboard a ship, and if he drank while forbidding it of every other sailor they would rebel on the spot, fervent battle-forged loyalty be damned. Unofficially, he couldn’t stand drinking alchohol. The last time he’d drank any was during his eighteenth birthday’s celebrations, and he’d been puking into a toilet an hour later while his bodyguards ran toxicity tests on anything he as much as looked at throughout the night.

“To new beginnings!” All of them toasts, emptying their glasses while James enjoyed his delightful tea.

…

As the short celebrations came to a close, the main part of the meeting began. Surprise or no surprise, the people gathered here knew what they were going to be doing; planning the development of the dynasty’s new crownworld for the next half decade. Initial drafts had been proposed and discussed even before the exodus, but they had been only vague outlines. Now that they knew what they were getting themselves into, it was time to get into the details.

“First and foremost, our target.” James said. “Within the next four years, we need a home for our people. Housing, infrastructure, food and industry to support two hundred thousand civilians. I expect that we will be decanting more and more people every week until then, with the most critical personnel being decanted first.”

“Mr. Sukachyov, I want your ship and crew to begin mining critical minerals within the week. Is that feasible?”

“Probably, but I cannot guarantee it, Your Grace.” Valeriy bowed lightly, his expression thoughtful. “My crew’s families are safe on-board other passenger ships, leaving only my trained crew on the ship. I can have them decanted and working within the day, and my ship can begin its burn even sooner, but I haven’t much information on the astrographic charts so I couldn’t tell you where to even begin.”

James nodded in understanding, tapping at the tablet next to him on the table. “How about now?”

A three-dimensional map of the system came to life at the center of the table, before focusing into the area around Pollux V. The planet was surrounded by two small moons, though no asteroid ring for easy mining.

“Ah, that makes it easy. Very easy, indeed.” Valeriy pointed at the elliptical band between Pollux V and Pollux VI. “What is the distance to this asteroid belt?”

“Closest point, point-nine AU. Farthest point, two-point-one. That gives you an average of one-point five AU, or ten hours on a freighter from orbit.”

“Twelve, maybe thirteen, for the Robotnik. Count Komanov preferred to built cheap ships and buy expensive roman wine; one of the many reasons the Vogdi prince was sitting on his throne just two months after declaring war.” Valeriy corrected, chuckling at his former lord’s idiocy. “But…this is good, Your Grace. Very good; I can have the first batch of refined ores in Pollux V orbit by the end of the week.”

James nodded, satisfied at his promise, and moved on to the next piece of the puzzle.

Kim Sun-hee was a woman of average height and exceptional intelligence, much like every other member of the Kim family and its branches. As family matriarch, and the CEO of Kim Industries, she’d made an already trusted company into the dynasty’s biggest producer of defense equipment. She was also a good friend, sharing much of his passion for tea.

“Ms. Kim, I believe my flag lieutenant has already informed you of our first export orders.”

Sun-hee bowed lightly. “He has, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. I want your mobile shipyard to set up its operations in geosynchronous orbit above Pollux V; the navigational data will be delivered later. The Hephaestus will set up shop in the local area so that we can start maintaining the warships as soon as possible, while you set up for shipbuilding operations. How quickly can that be achieved?”

The veteran engineer hummed lightly for a few moments. “Two weeks, if the unpacking goes smoothly. I’d say three weeks to a month, because it never does.” She smiled apologetically.

“Reality rarely conforms to our wishes.” James nodded in agreement. “But we’ll make do with what we have, and that is plenty enough. Case in point, our new home.” He focused the hologram on Pollux V.

“Pollux V is hardly a paradise world, but we can make it one with what we have. One of the most important metrics is the percentage of oxygen in the atmosphere, which currently sits at around six or seven percent. That needs to go up to twenty-one percent, though the geography of our first settlement allows us to make the local air breathable in separate to the rest of the planet. In any case, we’ll need electrolysis facilities to break up water and release oxygen. The engineering was perfected centuries ago, but we still need energy. Lots of energy, which is where you, Mr. Moreau.”

“The Apogee Corporation would be glad to begin production, Your Grace.” Jean-Louis Moreau smiled, though his expression was cloudy. “I confess, however, that our production lines and logistics will take more time to set up.”

“Give me a timeline.” James asked.

“A month, at least, to set up the production line.” Jean-Louis explained, grimacing. “If the logistics are set up, and thats a big if, we could have reactors for all four of those patrol boats in three months. As for the ground-side reactors…four months, maybe six. Not only are they bigger, but we’d have to ship them piecemeal from orbit and assemble them on-site.”

“I understand. For now, set up your operations in geosynchronous orbit and write up a timetable and your logistical requirements.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“Now, as to the…”

The meeting would go on for quite some time, as James addressed the role of each and every organization present in the coming weeks, months and years. Few expected reality to line up with their plans, and so concrete decisions remained limited to the next few months. Life would be slow for the first weeks and months, as industrial machinery hastily packed into freighters and skilled workers thrown into cryosleep were sent back into service.

Nonetheless, sentiments were high. The war was over, and the universe had given the Akritan Dynasty a second chance at life. Few people would’ve been more eager to make use of it than the ambitious James and his loyalists.