The transition from a hostile acquisition of localized shipyards to an open, multi-continental struggle for the Grand Coalition's central clearing board did not begin with a theatrical debate among diplomats. It commenced at midnight inside the iron-reinforced archives of the Eastern Maritime Guild, marked by the rhythmic, sharp clack-clack of brass-weighted pneumatic ledger drops hitting their reception boxes. Every five minutes, another leather-bound transaction canister arrived from the outland border nodes, each one containing the desperate liquidations of merchant houses caught on the wrong side of the Southern Trust's new enforcement matrix.
Elara stood by the long slate table in the center of the registry floor, her indigo silk tunic clean but heavy with the grey dust of graphite sheets. Her hair was pinned back with a single bone needle, her sharp grey eyes tracking the ink-wet numbers Sarah was furiously transcribing onto a vertical layout board.
