Galactic Exchange: The Merchant Sovereign
Chapter 91 – The Phantom Sovereign

Chapter 91: Chapter 91 – The Phantom Sovereign

The Kovari Vault was alive with energy.

In just two weeks, it had transformed from a relic of a forgotten era into the centerpiece of galactic commerce. Ships streamed in and out like schools of luminous fish, trading high-yield commodities, ancient tech, and alien bio-resources under the jurisdiction of the Obsidian Accord. The automated systems of the Vault operated in seamless synchronization with Silas’s Sovereign Interface, creating a utopia of regulated yet dynamic trade.

Silas stood at the observation deck overlooking Dock Bay Theta, watching as a fleet of crystal-hulled frigates unloaded bioluminescent fuel harvested from the gas jungles of Thalen Prime. Next to him, Eylin scrolled through an endless data stream, facial projections flickering in rapid succession.

"They’re calling it the New Core, you know," she murmured, half in disbelief. "Markets across six sectors are redirecting their routes here. The Exchange Index has stabilized at a rate never seen before."

Silas nodded slowly. "Good. The more stable we make this, the harder it is to tear down."

But even as the markets flourished, his mind lingered on the words of the mysterious trader, Varn Talek.

"There’s another Trader Sovereign. One who’s building a coalition in the Eclipsed Arm. And he doesn’t believe in alliances. Only conquest."

Silas hadn’t slept since.

He had dealt with pirates, corrupt nobles, rogue systems, and hostile empires—but another Sovereign? One with a system of his own? That was unprecedented.

And dangerous.

Because if that Sovereign had access to a Galactic Interface like Silas’s...

Then it meant he wasn’t alone.

Back in the private war room aboard the Sovereign’s Echo, Silas gathered his inner circle.

Valera, Zeke, and Eylin took their seats at the obsidian table, which now displayed a 3D holographic map of the Eclipsed Arm—a vast, dim spiral of stars where navigation was notoriously treacherous and most communication systems failed due to irregular dark matter surges.

Zeke leaned forward. "We’ve sent scouts. Only two returned. Both carrying fragments of data... and damage signatures unlike anything we’ve seen."

Valera projected the reports onto the table.

The hologram shifted, revealing shattered ships floating in zero-g—a battle clearly lost without even a chance to respond. Burn marks traced with temporal residue. Hulls breached with precision laser cuts.

Eylin frowned. "These weren’t pirates. These were executions."

Silas’s jaw tightened. "And the ships?"

"One belonged to a trade envoy from the Varnari Pact," Zeke answered. "The other was a probe launched by the Rift Syndicate."

Silas stood.

"He’s not just recruiting. He’s eliminating competition."

Valera crossed her arms. "If he’s operating in the shadows, we need to bring him into the light."

Silas tapped the interface embedded in his glove and summoned a list of Sovereign-level protocols.

"I’m going to provoke him."

Everyone looked up.

Eylin blinked. "What?"

"If he’s real, he’ll respond to a challenge," Silas said. "And I intend to give him one he can’t ignore."

The plan was dangerous—reckless, even. But it was the only path forward.

Silas released a Sovereign-Wide Broadcast, a rarely used protocol embedded in the very heart of the Galactic System. Only a bearer of the Sovereign title could access it, and when used, it sent a ripple across every connected trade interface in the galaxy.

The message was short.

"To the one hiding in the Eclipsed Arm:You move in shadows. I move markets.Show yourself, or watch as I trade away your power system by system.You have ten cycles.—Silas, Sovereign of the Accord."

The response came in ten minutes.

Not ten cycles.

The war room lights dimmed without warning.

Then the hologram table began to project a new feed—encrypted, unstable. A grainy image formed, revealing a figure seated upon what looked like a throne made of melted stardust and bone.

He wore no mask, but his face was obscured—shifting constantly, like smoke resisting form.

His voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"I wondered how long it would take before you reached for the crown."

Silas stood, unfazed. "Name."

The entity leaned forward.

"I am Kael Draven. Sovereign of the Eclipse Protocol. You call for a market war, Silas? So be it. Let’s see if your house of credit can withstand my economy of conquest."

And then the feed cut.

Silence followed.

No one dared speak for several seconds.

Then Zeke muttered, "Well... we’ve got confirmation."

Eylin turned to Silas, eyes wide. "He’s not just a Sovereign. He’s weaponized the system."

Valera pulled up her sidearm and set it on the table. "How do you want to proceed?"

Silas looked down at the star map and highlighted the entire Eclipsed Arm in crimson.

"We prepare the Accord for war."

The next phase began with a singular move—Project Market Shield.

Silas knew they couldn’t fight Kael Draven like a traditional warlord. Kael was a Sovereign—likely with his own version of a trade interface, possibly customized, corrupted, or evolved. That made him unpredictable.

So Silas did what he did best.

He traded leverage.

He called on every faction leader he’d struck deals with. Pulled every favor. Offered exclusive routes. Built defensive trade enclaves on frontier systems. Eylin even deployed a quantum encryption network to make tracking Accord shipments nearly impossible without her override keys.

And at the center of it all was Kovari Vault, now transformed into a fully operational Trade Bastion, complete with integrated defense fleets, automated dispute arbitration, and two warp-capable mobile stations that functioned as on-the-go exchanges.

Then came the Economic Embargoes.

Silas publicly labeled five systems in the Eclipsed Arm as "non-sanctioned trade zones," effectively cutting them off from legal trade. Prices of food, fuel, and medicine in those systems began to skyrocket.

Whispers of revolt stirred.

That’s when Kael responded again.

It began as a market anomaly.

A new product entered the trade feeds—Dark Etherium, a highly unstable but powerful energy source that could power planetary shields or interstellar weapons. The source? Unknown.

The seller?

A phantom account bearing the mark of the Eclipse.

Silas recognized the trap instantly.

If he let the trade spread, Kael would gain economic influence across the Accord. But if he banned it, black markets would thrive—and Kael’s influence would grow underground.

It was a lose-lose game.

Until Eylin proposed a third path.

"Let’s outbid him."

Silas blinked. "Come again?"

"We launch our own version of Etherium. Stabilized. Cheaper. More accessible. Flood the market. Kill his margins before they root."

Valera grinned. "Counter-feit. I like it."

Zeke added, "I’ll need control of the Lyssian Refineries."

"You’ll have it," Silas said.

Within four days, Accord Etherium hit the market.

And Kael’s first offensive fell flat.

But everyone in the room knew it was only the beginning.

That night, Silas stood alone on the bridge of his flagship, staring into the starlit void.

He could feel it.

The pressure rising.

Kael Draven was unlike any opponent he’d ever faced. He wasn’t interested in profit or peace. He wanted dominion. To warp the system until only his name held value.

Silas closed his eyes.

Two Sovereigns cannot rule one galaxy.

It was time to redefine the rules of the system.

And prepare for a Sovereign War.