Galactic Exchange: The Merchant Sovereign-Chapter 78: The Whispering Council

The room was quiet. Not in the peaceful sense, but in the way of old stone chambers that had heard too many secrets, too many oaths, and far too many betrayals. It was circular—each wall inset with deep alcoves, where masked figures stood like silent sentinels, cloaked in shadows despite the soft blue luminance of energy stones embedded in the ceiling.

Eren stood in the center.

He had expected a grand reception, or at least a formal audience, when summoned by the Galactic Merchant Assembly—one of the most influential groups in the entire Orion Sector. Instead, he was brought here, to a hidden council room buried beneath the Trade Citadel of Auralis Prime.

"Merchant Eren Kain of Terra and the Suraon Cluster," a voice boomed from the darkness, thick with synthetic modulation. "Do you know why you’ve been summoned?"

He clasped his hands behind his back, standing tall, even though his heart beat faster with each passing second. "I assume it relates to my recent acquisition of the Eluvian Star Contract and the sovereignty treaty over Ixia Nine."

A ripple of murmurs went through the room. The masks—plain, featureless ovals of black, gold, or silver—offered no reaction, but the tension thickened.

"You’ve made many moves," said another voice, smoother, female, but no less mechanical. "Too many, too quickly. A Terra-born independent rising so fast... It draws unwanted attention."

Eren gave a slow nod. "That was never my intent. I simply followed the opportunities presented to me by the Galactic Trading System. If others are... threatened by my progress, perhaps they should innovate faster."

"Bold words," another murmured. "But is your ambition matched by wisdom?"

A projection flickered to life above him—an image of various key transactions: his secret acquisition of an entire black-market shipping guild on Helior Prime, the quiet weaponization of Arcane Credit Bonds, and more dangerously, the leaked prototype for sub-quantum cargo folding arrays—a technology centuries ahead of current norm.

"These actions," the female voice continued, "have the potential to destabilize multiple trade ecosystems. Already, the Ascendant Banking Families have filed inquiries. And the Sable Syndicate wants you dead."

Eren didn’t flinch.

He had already survived assassination attempts, regulatory sabotage, and economic warfare. This was no different—it was simply a higher level of the same game.

"The system chose me for a reason," he said calmly. "Perhaps to shake the old order. If so, I won’t apologize for it."

A figure stepped out of the shadows—tall, draped in robes so dark they seemed to drink in the surrounding light. His mask was obsidian, carved with cryptic runes. Unlike the others, he carried a scepter tipped with a glowing platinum gem.

"You speak of change," the masked elder said. "But change comes with cost. Do you understand what it means to sit at this table?"

Eren met his gaze. "I didn’t come to kneel. If you’re offering a seat, know that I’ll bring fire with me."

Silence.

And then... a chuckle. Dry. Ancient.

"Good," the elder said. "Because the galaxy is burning already. We just want to know which direction you’ll throw your flames."

He tapped the floor with his scepter.

The center dais on which Eren stood began to rise. It elevated him above the rest of the council until he stood almost eye-to-eye with the recessed alcoves. The atmosphere shifted. Less interrogation, more... test.

"You are hereby granted Provisional Recognition by the Whispering Council," the elder intoned. "A trial membership, bound by strict conditions."

A scroll materialized in front of him—digital, encoded with ancient contract glyphs and quantum-linked to the Galactic Accord Registry.

"You will not interfere directly with Intersectoral Gate Levies. You will not violate Core World embargo laws. You will refrain from the assassination of economic competitors through proxy death-market auctions. And you will maintain a minimum liquidity of one trillion credits for continued influence ranking."

Eren studied the terms. Most of it was simply meant to fence him in. Still, for a ’trial membership,’ it was more than most would ever dream of.

"I accept."

The scroll glowed briefly, then vanished into a golden mist. The council members murmured again, some approving, others clearly discontent.

The elder raised his scepter again. "Then let the record show: Merchant Sovereign Eren Kain is now a recognized Provisional Stakeholder of the Council."

Eren’s status within the system updated almost instantly. The interface flared in his mind:

[New Title Unlocked: Provisional Council Stakeholder]Influence Tier Raised: [6 → 7]Access Granted: Restricted Star Markets (Tier 3)System Reward: 50,000 Black Credits + 3 Random Galactic-Grade Trade Schematics

He bowed slightly, turned, and descended from the platform.

Outside the chamber, Valera waited. Her silver eyes narrowed when she saw the flicker of emotion behind his calm expression.

"Well?" she asked.

"I’ve been accepted," Eren replied. "Provisionally."

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Congratulations. You’ve just joined the most dangerous political body in the Orion Sector. They don’t want new blood—they want tools."

Eren walked beside her as they made their way through the crystalline corridors of the Trade Citadel. "They’ll find I’m not so easily used."

"Not the point," she muttered. "Being in their good graces won’t protect you. You’ve made enemies, Eren. And not just traders or syndicates—real enemies."

He paused. "Who?"

Valera hesitated, then pulled out a holodisc. "This came through a secure channel. Someone used a backdoor through the Martel Auction Nexus."

The disc activated, projecting a short message.

A voice, distorted but unmistakably old and powerful, echoed:

"The Cosmic Equilibrium must not be disrupted. Terminate Eren Kain before he reaches Nexus Threshold."

Eren’s pulse spiked.

Valera deactivated the disc. "You know what that means, don’t you?"

He nodded grimly. "They know about the System. At least, part of it."

Later that night, Eren stood alone in his command chamber aboard the Silent Meridian. The massive trade ship now doubled as his mobile base of operations.

The system interface opened on its own.

[System Alert: Nexus Threshold Detected – 12.3% Completed][Warning: Universal Balance Protocols Have Been Engaged][Advisory: Further ascent will attract existential countermeasures]

He closed his eyes.

The climb had always been steep. But now, the peak was shrouded in cosmic threats far beyond economy or politics. Something ancient—something that watched the stars to ensure no one ascended too far.

But he wouldn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

For Earth. For himself. For the system that had chosen him.

"Bring me the Ixia Nine blueprint," he ordered. "We’re turning that world into the new trade beacon of the sector."

The AI confirmed.

He looked into the stars beyond the viewport.

"Come at me, all of you," he whispered. "Council, Syndicates, or cosmic gods. I’ll trade, build, fight—and win."