CHAPTER 32: CH-32 THE TRUE BEGINNING-1

"Good to hear, Admiral," William finally said. "And I’ll be waiting. I look forward to meeting your Grand Admiral soon."

"You’ll meet him soon enough, Mr. William," Kevin replied. "And trust me—he may be even more eager to meet you. Especially with what you’re offering. Two Tier-7 warships... and with full blueprint access? That alone changes everything."

He gave a short laugh. "And considering he’s the Federation’s highest-ranking spokesperson for our warship doctrine—as opposed to mech-based command—well... you can imagine how quickly he’ll move to accept your gift."

William laughed lightly at that.

Elsa, who had remained mostly quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke. Her voice was calm, thoughtful—and strangely enchanting.

"It’s odd," she said, "how there are still two opposing factions in your Federation. One promoting mech supremacy, the other pushing for warship superiority. Both convinced their field is the most powerful, the most versatile... all while ignoring the fundamental truth."

She paused, then added with a quiet sigh, "That both systems were designed to complement each other. Not compete."

Her voice carried like music. For a moment, Admiral Kevin and his accompanying officers were caught in it—momentarily stunned. They blinked, as if waking from a trance, then quickly looked away, blushing slightly in quiet embarrassment.

It wasn’t what she said that surprised them—but how she said it.

Kevin finally cleared his throat. "Yes... well. You’re not wrong. It’s an old debate. A stubborn one. We’ve been divided over it for decades. It’s not something that can be changed overnight."

Elsa shook her head gently.

"But what good has that division brought?" she asked. "Admiral—you’ve seen firsthand what happens when both forces work together. That last battle... your mechs and warships moved in unison, and the result was overwhelming."

She stepped forward slightly, her tone sharpening—but still elegant.

"Mechs are nimble. Their agility lets them avoid most of the wide-area barrages from enemy fleets. And when they can’t dodge, they rely on the shared shield matrix you’ve already developed. They survive. They press forward."

"And while the mechs push through the frontline, taking enemy fire and drawing attention, your warships hang back and deal massive retaliatory strikes—uninterrupted, accurate, and devastating. That synergy is the future. Not one over the other, but both. Together."

Kevin nodded slowly, absorbing every word.

"She’s right," one of the researchers murmured. "The simulations have always hinted at this. But politics..."

"...keeps holding back strategy," Kevin finished.

He looked at Elsa, then at William.

"Maybe your arrival is more than just timely," he said quietly. "Maybe it’s the shake we needed."

"That... and more," Elsa added, her eyes settling on William.

He met her gaze with a knowing smile. He understood exactly where she was heading—and where she wanted this to go.

But William turned back to Admiral Kevin and answered with a tempered tone, "We’ll see about that, Admiral. That’s all in the future."

He folded his arms.

"You can’t expect me to start making changes to Federation doctrine the moment I arrive. Especially not on a topic that’s been debated for decades—as you yourself admitted."

He smiled, but there was gravity beneath it. "Let’s take things slowly. With time."

Admiral Kevin blinked, surprised—not by the words, but by the restraint. Part of him had expected William to seize the opportunity, to press for unity between the factions and use his position as leverage.

But instead, William was stepping back.

And that made Kevin respect him more.

Because even though William was gifting the Federation a strategic breath of fresh air—a chance to reset the board with two Tier-7 warships—he still understood the line. If he pushed too hard, especially on matters as politically charged as mech-versus-warship doctrine, it wouldn’t be seen as help. It would be seen as interference.

Not that the Federation could really stop him, Kevin thought. But it didn’t matter. William wasn’t pushing because he knew better.

And that was good.

"Indeed," Kevin finally said, nodding. "You may be right, Mr. William. Best to let time work with us."

He shifted, his tone growing official. "Then, with your permission, I should return to my flagship. I need to prepare my report and submit your proposal to the High Council."

William gave a casual wave. "You’re free to go, Fleet Admiral. And I’ll be here... waiting to hear some good news."

Kevin smiled. "Please do."

Before another word was spoken, William snapped his fingers—and a flash of light surrounded Kevin and his team.

In the next instant, they reappeared inside the shuttle docked in the hangar bay, the ship’s systems already warmed and ready for launch.

"Still not used to that," one of the officers muttered, adjusting his uniform.

"Still not used to that," one of the officers muttered, adjusting his uniform.

"Right?" said the shuttle operator. "We’re used to teleportation by now, but that... that felt different."

One of the researchers nodded. "Indeed. The teleportation system on Mr. William’s ship is something else. I’m no master in that field, but I can tell—it’s stable. Far more stable than anything we have. Even our best Federation systems can’t match that level of fluidity."

Another researcher chimed in, rubbing his temples. "It’s not just the stability. There’s this weird sense of disorientation. Not physical nausea, but a kind of... spatial dissonance. Like your mind knows you moved, but your body says you didn’t."

"We’re not teleportation specialists," said a third. "But whatever that tech is—it’s not from any doctrine we’ve studied."

Admiral Kevin let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Alright, alright. It’s different. We’ll add that to the thousand other mysteries we’ve got to untangle. But you can all save the theories for after we’re back."

He turned to the shuttle pilot. "Take us back to the Pegasus."

"Yes, Admiral," the pilot replied. The engines hummed as the shuttle lifted off smoothly.

Meanwhile, back in the medical bay aboard the Rangarani, William and Elsa remained behind.

She looked at him curiously, arms folded, her tone both inquisitive and firm.

"Why did you change your plan like that, Will? You said you’d stay low profile. And now you’re handing them Tier-7 tech? Offering them blueprint-level gifts? What happened?"

She didn’t wait for him to answer—just kept going.

"You know Tier-7, even Tier-8 tech, means nothing to us anymore. But still, you said the goal was to observe. Blend in. Not stir things up this early. So why the big shift?"

William looked at her for a moment, speechless. Then, slowly, he exhaled.

"I know. I did say that. I meant it, too."

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped toward the observation window.

"But the moment we showed them even a glimpse of what the Rangarani could do... any hope of staying in the shadows disappeared. We crossed that line the second they saw the tech in action. You felt it too."

Elsa nodded silently, urging him to go on.

He turned back to her, eyes calm but resolute.

"So if we can’t stay hidden, I figured... let’s control how the spotlight lands on us. Instead of fear or suspicion, we shift the narrative. Give them something to admire. Something to rally behind. A gift, not a threat."

He paused again. "And the truth is—I like the Federation. How it’s run. It’s not perfect, but it’s not corrupt. The people in charge... they make decisions based on survival and responsibility, not greed or power."

Elsa tilted her head thoughtfully. "So you gave them Tier-7 ships as a signal."

"A gesture," William corrected. "One that pulls focus and buys us time. Yes, it’ll draw attention—but most of it will be positive. Enough goodwill can buy more than silence. It can buy freedom."

And he continued, "It’s not like we fear anything, right?"

Elsa, who had been walking just behind him, stepped up beside him and said softly, "I know we don’t fear anything... but just like you said — what we need is freedom, not attention."

"Don’t worry. We’ve already shown enough," William said with a small smile. "It’ll definitely attract attention—but it’ll also make others fear us. And that fear will keep most from getting in our way or trying to disrupt our journey."

Back in the hangar bay, the Federation shuttle passed through the glowing forcefield gate and entered open space.

As the ship pulled away, Admiral Kevin sat near the viewing pane, gazing back at the Rangarani.

The ship loomed like a silent giant, majestic and still—but brimming with power.

He stared at it, thoughts running fast and deep.

This was only the beginning.