The Great System appeared.
[Approach: Alternative Boarding]
[Planning Stage Initiated]
[Constraints Identified:]
[Do Not Implicate Veyrhold]
[Do Not Use Veyrhold Cargo]
[Avoid Harm to Civilians]
[Observe Merchant Maintenance Transfers]
[Await Medical Assessment Outcome]
[Risk: Severe]
Rohan almost laughed.
The system had turned their moral limits into planning constraints.
Maybe that was good.
Maybe it was horrifying.
Probably both.
On the eighth day, the merchant physician declared Rohan medically complicated.
That was the phrase.
Medically complicated.
The examination took place in a clean white compartment beside the central pavilion. The physician was a polite woman with silver hair, soft gloves, and eyes that became increasingly interested as her instruments reacted to Rohan’s body.
His Molten Attribute caused three separate alerts.
His origin record returned blank.
His tissue density did not match expected baseline for unregistered frontier humans.
His lungs showed ash adaptation that the physician called "remarkable and concerning."
The skarn scar on his left forearm reacted faintly to one scanner.
By the time the examination ended, Rohan knew exactly where this was going.
Captain Odris delivered the conclusion personally.
"I am afraid your case requires further review," he said with visible regret. "Your health is not poor. Quite the opposite in some respects. But your unusual system integration and environmental adaptation create liability questions. Transporting you without proper containment evaluation would be irresponsible."
Rohan sat across from him, expression calm.
"Containment evaluation."
"A standard phrase."
"I am not cargo."
"Of course not. Please do not misunderstand."
"I understand very clearly."
Odris folded his hands.
"I do want to help you, Mr. Roy. But the Gilded Heron must operate within regulations. If you remain prepared, continue building your bond, and allow us to send inquiries ahead, I believe there may be a much better chance next Tradefall."
Next Tradefall.
Two years.
The words were a door closing.
Rohan felt something inside him go very still.
"I see," he said.
Odris smiled sadly.
"I know this is disappointing."
"No," Rohan said, standing. "I do not think you do."
He left before the merchant could answer.
Outside, Liora was waiting.
She knew before he spoke.
Her face crumpled for half a second before she controlled it, and that tiny break hurt more than Odris’s refusal.
"They delayed it," she said.
"Yes."
"Next cycle?"
"Yes."
She turned away, hands shaking.
Rohan reached for her, then stopped, unsure whether comfort would be selfish.
She noticed and stepped closer herself, gripping his sleeve with both hands.
"I am so angry," she whispered.
"So am I."
"No, Rohan, I am angry because part of me is relieved. That is awful. I heard they refused you and some selfish part of me thought, good, he has to stay longer. Then I hated myself for it."
His chest tightened painfully.
"Liora..."
"I do not want you trapped here. I do not. I swear I do not. I know what this planet is. I know what it takes from people. But I also do not want to lose you to the sky with people like them."
Rohan looked down at her hands on his sleeve.
"I do not know what happens next."
"Yes, you do," she said, looking up at him. "You are going to look for another way."
He did not lie.
"Yes."
Her eyes filled with fear.
"Then let me be angry and afraid for a moment before I become useful."
He nodded slowly.
"All right."
She pressed her forehead briefly against his shoulder.
Only for a moment.
Then she stepped back, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and drew herself upright.
"What did the system say?"
Rohan focused.
The panel appeared.
[Approach: Negotiation]
[Status: Failed]
[Reason Identified: Medical Delay / Regulatory Obstruction]
[Primary Objective Still Active: Secure a Route Off Cael Athis]
[Time Window Remaining: 4 Days]
[Alternative Boarding: Available]
He read it aloud.
Liora closed her eyes.
"Four days," she said.
"Yes."
"Then we need to watch the maintenance transfers tonight."
Rohan looked at her.
"You do not have to help."
Her expression hardened through the remaining tears.
"I know. That is why it matters that I choose to."
That night, the opportunity appeared.
Not a full plan.
Not certainty.
A possibility.
The ninth day of Tradefall brought a low ash squall across the flats. Not severe enough to halt trade, but enough to irritate the merchants. Their clean pavilions shivered under the wind. Drones flew lower. Guards complained over their comms. Cargo movement slowed.
One shuttle reported a damaged portside stabiliser housing after landing.
Tavin heard it first through a merchant mechanic arguing near the raw resource lane. She passed the information to Bryan, who passed it to Maerin, who found Rohan in the medical supply pavilion pretending not to watch drone patterns.
"Damaged equipment transfer tonight," Maerin said quietly.
Rohan’s heart began to pound.
"What kind?"
"Atmospheric stabiliser housing. Large enough to require a return casing. Merchant property. It will be moved from the maintenance tent to shuttle three after moonless bell."
"Scan level?"
"Tavin says moderate for charge, low for biological if the casing is tagged as unstable equipment. They do not like opening damaged stabiliser housings near ash because the components are sensitive."
Rohan absorbed each word.
Large casing.
Merchant property.
Low biological scan.
Maintenance tent.
Shuttle three.
After moonless bell.
This was the first possibility that felt real.
Not safe.
Not good.
Real.
Maerin’s expression was grim.
"No decision now. We discuss once, then you choose."
"Who knows?"
"The room from before. No one else."
"Good."
"It is not good, Rohan. It is simply contained."
He nodded.
"You are right."
The meeting that followed was quiet and terrible.
They gathered in the trade shelter after dark, while ash hissed against the walls and merchant lights glowed pale beyond the covered windows. Tavin sketched the maintenance area layout from memory. Bryan marked possible movement windows. Liora described drone paths she had watched from the escort lane. Jorren noted guard blind spots created by the squall screens. Iri sat with her arms folded, saying little, her face pale with anger and worry.
The stabiliser casing would be moved by merchant handlers from the southern maintenance tent to shuttle three. Before loading, it would pass through a charge scan to ensure the damaged component was inert. Because the casing itself was sealed and tagged unstable, they were unlikely to open it at the flats. The shuttle would lift to the Gilded Heron’s lower service bay before dawn.