VICE'S POV
I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, watching The Chief study the map before us. Scout sat beside me, his fingers drumming impatiently against the table.
“I require the report,” The Chief demanded.
Scout leaned forward. “The trade routes are already feeling the squeeze. By next week, merchants will be in full-blown panic.”
The Chief nodded, a dark gleam in his eye. “Excellent. Ardavia has always relied on Silvergarde Prime for its supplies. Silvergarde may be the heart of trade, but we control the arteries. We decide what flows and what doesn’t.”
I smirked, my arms still folded. “Cut off the right lifelines, and the body starts to rot.”
“Exactly,” Scout said, reaching for the map spread out before us. Thick, black lines cut through the parchment, tracing the primary tr
