"Here's what's going to happen," I said, settling into the chair. "The Grokkies system becomes an Imperial protectorate.
You keep your autonomy, I keep you alive. Everyone wins."
Commander Zyx'ara's stepped forward.
"And in return?" she asked.
"You get to keep breathing," I replied with a smile. "Plus Imperial protection, trade agreements, and the privilege of being on my side rather than against me."
She leaned forward. "Lord Raven," she said, "surely we can discuss more... favorable terms?"
Behind me, I heard Meus shift slightly, her armor creaking with tension. Jealousy? That was interesting. And oddly flattering.
"I'm listening," I said, leaning back. "But understand, I didn't come here to negotiate. I came here to inform you of your new reality."
I stood up. The Grokkies instinctively stepped back, except for Zyx'ara, who held her ground. I moved around the table slowly.
"You see," I said, stopping directly behind Zyx'ara's chair, "Instead of bloodshed why don't y'all work for me. Dead worlds don't generate revenue."
She had to turn her head to look at me, exposing her neck—a submissive gesture in most species.
The eldest council member, his scales pale with age and fear, spoke up. "Lord Raven, we are a peaceful people. We have no quarrel with the Empire."
"No," I agreed, moving to the window where the wreckage of their flagship still tumbled through space, "but you have something I want. This system sits on three major hyperspace routes. Very convenient for trade. Very inconvenient for my enemies."
"What guarantees do we have?" Zyx'ara asked. "That the Empire won't simply... absorb us completely once we're under your protection?"
"You have my word," I said, moving closer to her. "And more importantly, you have my interest."
She tilted her head. "You're not what I expected, Lord Raven."
"How so?"
"The stories paint you as a monster. A destroyer of worlds, but you negotiate instead of annihilate. You offer terms instead of ultimatums."
Shit. I was being too reasonable, too different from the original Raven's reputation.
"Just so we're clear," I said, "being pragmatic doesn't make me weak." I pointed to the window. "That was forty-one ships. I destroyed them in five minutes. Imagine what I could do if I was actually trying."
I could see fear in the council member's face
"Understood. What are your specific terms?"
"Simple. You maintain local governance, but Imperial law supersedes yours in matters of trade and defense. Twenty percent tax on all commerce. Military cooperation when requested. And..." I smiled, "exclusive mining rights to your asteroid belt."
The council members exchanged glances, their scales cycling through various shades of distress.
"That's... substantial," the elder said carefully.
"So is continued existence," I replied. "You have five minutes to decide."
Zyx'ara stepped closer. "And if we agree to these terms, what assurance do we have of your... personal protection?"
The way she said 'personal' made it clear she wasn't just talking about military defense.
"I take care of what's mine," I said, meeting her gaze directly. "Very good care."
Behind me, Meus cleared her throat pointedly. "My lord, we should return to Imperial space soon. The Emperor will be expecting a report."
Right. The Emperor I'd been ignoring. That was going to be a fun conversation.
"Of course," I said, not breaking eye contact with Zyx'ara. "Commander, do we have an agreement?"
She looked at her council, then back at me. "We accept your terms, Lord Raven. The Grokkies system pledges itself to the Dominion Empire."
"Excellent." I turned to address the full council. "You'll receive formal documentation within the week. Commander Zyx'ara will serve as your liaison with Imperial command."
Her face brightened noticeably at that announcement.
As we walked back toward the docking bay, Zyx'ara fell into step beside me. "Lord Raven, I hope this is the beginning of a... productive relationship."
She slipped something into my hand—a small data crystal. "The real defensive capabilities of our system," she whispered. "The council doesn't know I'm giving you this. Consider it a personal gesture of good faith."
It's obvious she trusts me completely. "I recognize a pragmatist when I see one. We're more alike than you might think."
"I'm sure we are," I replied, very aware of Meus's increasingly rigid posture behind us.
"Until next time," I said, offering a slight bow.
"I look forward to it," Zyx'ara replied.
---
The Nightshade's cabin felt smaller with just the two of us in it. Meus had been unusually quiet during the flight prep, her movements sharp and efficient as she checked systems that didn't need checking.
"You're different," she said finally, not looking at me.
"Different how?" I asked, though I knew exactly what she meant.
"The Raven I know would have destroyed the station at sight." She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. "You negotiated. Show mercy. And think before acting."
"Maybe I'm changing," I said carefully.
"Or maybe," she said, stepping closer, "you're not who you pretend to be."
My heart nearly stopped. "Careful, Meus. That sounds dangerously close to treason."
"Is it?" She moved closer still. "Because the Raven I've served for three years was brilliant, yes. Dangerous, absolutely. But he was also cruel. Petty. He would have killed half that council just to make a point."
Her hand moved to rest on my chest, palm flat against my uniform. The touch sent electricity through me, my body recognizing something my mind was still processing.
"This Raven," she continued, her voice dropping lower, "this Raven is still brilliant. Still dangerous. But there's something else. Something... better."
"And what if I am different?" I asked, my hands finding her waist almost without conscious thought. "What then?"
"Then I have a choice to make," she said.
"Which is?"
"Whether I care."
She looked up at me. "This morning your act was totally different, the calling off the fleet, well emperor's call and you speak more of a preacher of justice, like from a different world."
My heart was racing. How much had she figured out?
"And what do you think that means?" I asked carefully.
"I think," she said, her face tilting up toward mine, "that Lord Raven is becoming something new. Something better. And I want to be there when you figure out what that is."
The space between us had somehow disappeared. I could feel her breath on my lips. My body knew exactly what to do, but my mind was screaming variations of 'holy shit a woman is touching me.'
Play it cool, Thomas. You're a galactic prince now. You've conquered systems. You can handle one incredibly attractive woman pressing against you.
Who was I kidding? I was way out of my depth.
Before either of us could close that final distance, the ship's communication array chimed with an incoming priority transmission.
We froze, still pressed against each other.
The Imperial seal materialized beside us—not my father's personal sigil this time, but Admiral Korrath's military command code.
"Lord Raven," the Admiral's voice came through the speakers, tight with barely controlled irritation. "This is Admiral Korrath. Priority Alpha message. The Zephyrian Princess has arrived early for the wedding negotiations. She's demanding to meet her future husband immediately."
Meus and I stayed frozen, her hand still on my face, mine still on her waist.
"Furthermore," Korrath continued, "the Emperor has ordered your immediate return to the capital. No delays, no excuses. Imperial Command out."
The transmission ended, leaving us in silence.
"The Princess arriving early," Meus said quietly, not moving away, "it's a power move. She's showing she won't wait for anyone, not even her future husband."
"Or she's eager to size up the competition," I suggested.
Meus's eyes flashed. "I'm not competition. I'm staff."
"Keep telling yourself that," I said."
She was quiet for a moment.
"How long until we reach Imperial space?" I asked.
"Six hours," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
"A lot can happen in six hours," I said.
"A lot can be interrupted in six hours too," she countered, but her hands were sliding up to my shoulders. "The Princess—"
"Isn't here," I finished. "And what happens in hyperspace..."
"Stays in hyperspace?" She actually smiled at that. "That's not how physics works, my lord."
"I'm very good at breaking rules," I said, pulling her closer.
"I'm beginning to notice that," she breathed.
"Meus," I said, her name coming out rougher than intended.
"Don't," she said. "Don't say whatever noble thing you're about to say. Just... let me have this moment."
"When we get back," she continued, "things will be complicated."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. It's my job. My duty." Her fingers curled into my uniform. "But right now, for the next six hours, you're not engaged. You're not the Crown Prince. You're just..."
"Just what?"
"Mine," she said, and pulled me down into a kiss.
As our lips met, as her body pressed against mine, as the Nightshade hummed around us in the space between spaces.
Her tongue swept across my lower lip, and every thought evacuated my brain except one:
Six hours might not be enough.
---