As my new adviser, the first thing Allie advises me do is call off the orbital mover.
“Put me on an all-ship broadcast,” I tell the orbital mover’s communications officer, and once I’m transmitting on all their viewscreens, I issue my edict. “Abort the orbital move of Humana. You are recalled to Arris Central immediately. As your emperor, my word is law. And if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, no matter who they are…” I hold the gazes of every person in the bridge and put the force of my order into every crew member of the ship. “Hold your course and refer them to me.”
The captain of the orbital mover nods smartly. “Yes, Emperor Ranse.”
The rest of the bridge crew echoes him.
I end the transmission.
“Let me know at once if any other Arrisan forces are directed toward Humana,” I order my adviser. “Or if this mover turns around.”
“There is still a dreadnought within firing range of the planet,” my military adviser tells me. “A recent issue. The Spiderwasp.”
“Put me through.”
Captain Falkion answers after a short delay. His craggy face is striking; he is a perfect specimen of Arrisan might, and his wrists bear the chevron marks of a blade. This is one of the rare military ships that has blades intermixed with the officers.
My father’s last act was to take this ship from the High Command and assign it to Zai, and my brother never bothered to wrest it back. But in Zai’s absence, it’s holding its last course.
“And we will hold that course until Zai orders us otherwise,” the captain affirms. “Nothing will move us.”
Someone says something just out of hearing off-screen.
He grimaces. “Except, of course, the return of the Harsi, in which case we will move to our assigned defensive sector and fight back until they are destroyed or we are. To the very last star.”
“To the very last star,” I echo, because of course if the Harsi returned now, all this planning and infighting would mean nothing. One planet’s fate, even Arris Central’s, is nothing to the total annihilation of all planets by slavering, unstoppable monsters. “I will contact you with further orders.”
“Emperor.” He coughs, just stopping me from ending the call. “My head engineer has a suggestion. After the…” Captain Falkion taps his fingertips together searching for the correct words. “…unusual transmission following yours by the high commander, my head engineer made me aware that it’s possible the high commander could cut off the palace, preventing future broadcasts entirely.”
My communications officer looks grim. His assistant tears through documentation.
“In which case, he wanted to make sure you knew about the engineering network,” Captain Falkion continues. “It uses a separate transmission network, and you can access it from any ship, making it more difficult to fully cut you off.”
“Your head engineer?” That prompts a memory. “Just a moment.”
I dismiss my advisers and change our meeting over to private. Drawing Allie to the closest seat, I return to the captain. “Put me through to him.”
Captain Falkion’s face blanks with surprise. Then he nods and reaches forward.
The screen abruptly jumps to a grimy engineering office crammed with equipment. An Arrisan in bulky engineering coveralls unzipped down to his waist tosses a round little item into the air—looks like a larger-sized nutrient cube that’s had something done to it—and maneuvers his open mouth beneath to catch it.
His peripheral vision picks up my screen while some noise emits from his side. “Head Engineer Atana, the emperor is calling for you.”
The food bounces off Atana’s chin. He sees me and jolts, falling off-screen.
Ha.
Allie coughs as though suppressing a laugh.
An instant later, his oil-stained fingers curl across the command panel, and he hauls himself back into view, then rubs a hand across his short black hair. The chevrons at his wrist show that he too is a blade.
“Emperor.” He pats his sternum, his heart, reaches for a half-wild smile. “What can we do for you down in engineering?”
“What is your opinion of humans?”
The wildness touches his eyes. “I don’t think anything about them.”
“Their escape pods were brought aboard the Spiderwasp for a time. You found them interesting enough that you disseminated their translations of our origin myths.”
“Oh, right. The lessers themselves are nothing. Weak, vulnerable. Harmless. They taste like old engine grease.”
Allie leans forward. “Exactly who tastes like old engine grease?”
He stares at her for a long moment.
Then he looks back at me. “Emperor Ranse, there’s a lesser in your conference room.”
“Yes, and we’re both very interested in the fate of her people.”
“Ah.” He looks off at a particular corner of his office, then rubs his nose and licks his lips. “Yes…”
“You are the only military vessel close to her planet. I don’t want you to leave it exposed for any reason. When the order comes for you to vacate the area—and it will very likely come, although not from me—I am personally asking you to do everything in your power to remain in place.”
“I’m just an engineer. Orders come from the captain.”
“There’s a saying I heard once. ‘Captains pilot ships, but engineers fly them.’”
He chuckles, dusts off his suit, and glances over his shoulder. “That’s a phrase we restrict to the engineering bay. Don’t want to make the officers nervous.”
“Can I count on you to protect Humana?”
“When I’m judged for insubordination, you better keep me out of the pits of Ranna.”
“I will.”
“Hey, Emperor.” He licks his lips, glances over at the corner again, then tries to compose his thoughts. “What are you going to do about these humans, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s fine for you to keep one, or for General Master Zai. What about an average Arrisan?”
“Humans don’t have advanced space travel,” I reassure him. “You’re unlikely to meet one by accident.”
“But we already have. Several, in fact. And now we’re in their sector, guarding their planet. It’s only a matter of time before one of my guys steals an escape pod and stashes it in an unused exhaust vent because he wants his own Amante. What am I supposed to do when she’s found out?”
This is something I have not considered—
“You’re going to leave her alone.” Allie rests her hand on my chest and leans in. “You don’t harass her, and you certainly don’t lick her, for goodness’ sake. Don’t take her to the science office, jab her full of needles, or do anything to her without her consent.”
The wildness returns to his eyes. “Oh no?”
“Or she is going to hate you and refuse to be your Amante. Because if you remember the myths right, Grundi never pushed his Amante around. He was smart enough to ask for her help or leave her be. Right?”
He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, pauses, then blows out the air with a frown. “Hm.”
“So who have you got in your office there?” she asks. “In that spot you keep looking at?”
“I don’t know. No one. It was a hypothetical. I’m just asking.” And then, after a beat, he adds, “Catarine knows her. She said, ‘Under the circumstances, it’s fine.’”
“Uh-huh. Well, I want to talk to ‘Miss Fine’ if it’s all the same to you.”
“Ah, you can’t.” He shakes a nutrient cube out of a greasy tube and rolls it across the back of his hand before popping it in his mouth with an expert crunch. “She’s in narco-stasis.”
“Narco-stasis? You’ve kept her in narco-stasis? Is she still alive?”
“The science officer had me monitor her health and jab her.”
“You kidnapped one of my shipmates and—”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. The Vanadisans did. And anyway, I chose not to dump her out the airlock, and I even made sure she didn’t die.” He crunches another nutrient cube. “I’m a good guy.”
Hmm. There’s something off about his demeanor, but maybe that’s just because he’s an engineer. “What do you intend to do with her now?”
“Honestly? We’re busy down here and I didn’t ask for this. The airlock is always an option.”
“You should let her out,” Allie says. “It’s cruel and dangerous to keep her inside.”
Atana waves that away. “The captain doesn’t want another human loose on his dreadnought.”
“Another human?”
“And I can’t let her out in the engineering bay. Do you have any idea how much chaos these lessers cause?” Atana rolls his eyes and gives an exaggerated sigh. “They start fights, cause my guys to disobey orders, and even tear each other to pieces over what? A lesser? No thanks. When we get close enough her planet, maybe I can kick her pod out the main door and let gravity take it home.”
“So you’re going to repatriate her?” I ask.
He blinks, then shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. If it matters that much to you, sure.”
All right, everything has been decided here. Time to move on to the next problem.
Allie grabs my hand before I can end the call. “You better actually be the good guy. Or you’ll answer to me.”
Atana eyes her respectfully. “You got it.”
She releases my hand, then I terminate the call.
For the moment, it’s just us in my conference room. Just us against the universe. And I’m glad to have her at my side as my adviser—
Allie averts her gaze. “Well, Humana is protected, but we have a million more emergencies to go.”
Yes, we do.
Is that why I feel there’s something wrong? Ever since I asked her to stay close to me I’ve felt this odd distance between us.
Perhaps it’s nothing. I’m over-sensitive. Allie wouldn’t push me away.
Even if she never wanted my bite…and still doesn’t want my mark…
No. I can’t let doubts hit me now.
I call my advisers back into our room. They file in, curious, but nobody asks about our private conversation.
The next step in taking control of the empire is to meet with every noble in person, and if a noble refuses to be summoned to the palace, I must go to them. My advisers are unanimous that I must avoid Orunfax.
“Too many chances for you to look weak,” my military adviser says. “Too easy for you to be the victim of an accident.”
“But you can’t force the nobles to talk via viewscreen,” the policy adviser argues. “If they’re in the pay of Orunfax, they’ll refuse.”
After this goes on for a bit, Allie raises two fingers. My advisers talk over her, ignore her. I have to shut them up to let her speak.
“Give them the choice,” she says in the restless silence. “You’ll go to them or you can use the viewscreen. If they really don’t want Orunfax to know they’re talking, it’s going to be easier to hide calling on the viewscreen than going in full regalia to their house. They’ll choose the viewscreen.”
Everyone is silent.
“Will that actually work?” the communications officer asks.
The policy adviser shrugs. “The emperor already left the palace once to visit a noble house.”
“To rescue a lesser,” one of my strategists mutters.
“Which works in our favor.” The policy adviser nods in approval, coming around to the idea. “They should know he’s capable of anything.”
There’s a respectful silence. I smile at Allie, and we begin the calls.
The first noble is almost surprised to hear from me, then looks over his shoulder as if he’s afraid to be overheard. “The confirmation hearing is in some time… I can’t promise anything…”
By the third noble to repeat the same milquetoast non-support, I’m starting to lose my patience. “So is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s definitely one of those, probably…”
My blades flex in my wrists. He’s a lost cause. “So I’ll count on your support.”
“Well…”
Allie sneezes, and her eyes shimmer with tears. The spicy scent of lusteal floats to me, harmless, and then her scent wraps around my jack and floods me with heat.
“I haven’t made any promises to anyone…” the noble hedges.
“Total lies,” Allie spits out, flexing her fingers. “Ranse is your emperor. He’s objectively better than anyone else, and if you can’t see that, you’re either cowed or paid off by Orunfax.”
“I’m not paid off!” The noble winces. “Orunfax has the military stationed right outside my house!”
“And it’s going to stay that way unless you vote in Ranse.”
“You don’t understand, lesser.”
“Oh, I know exactly what it’s like to have everything you care about surrounded by armed, unfriendly Arrisans.” She curls her lip. “You’ve got one chance to show even the smallest amount of the same grit that a lesser like me has to show every day. Don’t make excuses.”
His mouth flops open.
Well, he was a lost cause anyway, and that was extremely satisfying. I grin. “I’ll see you at the confirmation hearing.”
The noble chokes, and I end the call feeling better.
We repeat this conversation with multiple nobles. Only the head of House Cullus is willing to tick off on his blunt fingers the reasons he’s unimpressed with my leadership. “You’ve seated a lesser from a farming planet on your advisory board while the Vanadisans and their allies rampage freely in our outer edges. The rings are locked down. You can’t even exit your own palace. From here, Ranse, it looks like you’re in control of two things: yourself and a closed nightclub, and pretty soon you won’t even be in charge of those anymore.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A warning.” The noble snorts. “I’ve made no secret that I hate Orunfax. I would support any viable candidate who could get rid of him. But no one can. Your father died trying to be sneaky about it, and your brother essentially died while trying to get along. Now, you’re going to die facing him head-on.”
I grin dangerously. “I’m not dead yet.”
“At this point, I doubt even the Harsi could eject him. You’ll never make the confirmation hearing.”
“Then when I do, does that mean I can count on your support?”
His heavy eyes sink into his thick cheeks, resigned. “No emperor has ascended without Arris Central. Plenty have started their reigns without the High Command or the Arsenal, or even both. But you’re the first one who’s lost control of our planet.”
“I control the palace. What more do I need?”
“A miracle.” Cullus shakes his head and ends the conference.
The policy adviser, who’s been listening in on every call, checks off another non-supporter with a grimace. “If you show any progress regaining control, I think you’ll sway him. He wants to support you.”
That’s heartening.
My military adviser pokes a head in. “Eruvisans are rioting in the fourth ring. Again.”
What a nuisance. “Hasn’t Orunfax locked down that ring?”
“He wants you to issue a public order so he can make a show of disobeying you.”
Great. “Ideas to counteract him?”
Silence.
“Can we make an alliance with the Eruvisans?” Allie asks, turning heads. “Why are they rioting now?”
“Because they’re stupid lessers who don’t understand their place,” one of my advisers mutters, and everyone coughs or chuckles.
Allie’s lids half lower. “Try to imagine, for just one moment, that they’re as smart and reasonable as you. What’s the real answer?”
Silence again.
I call on my trade adviser. “I want to know this too.”
He straightens. “The Eruvisans demand that we return their greenstone.”
“Okay.” She frowns at her data tablet, probably scrolling to the numbers of business in the empire. “It’s a medium-importance commodity… Why don’t we return it?”
“Why? They’re still selling it.” The trade adviser tilts his head. “Some buy it back to push up prices. Anyway, if you ended the greenstone trade this shift, you’d make a powerful enemy of Cullus.”
“Mm, I liked him.”
“Yes, he’s one of the few who’s willing to publicly state he dislikes Orunfax. We should try not to anger him unnecessarily.”
She nods slowly. “Is there someone else the Eruvisans will listen to? Perhaps we can negotiate with them?”
“They’re a vassal of planet Vanadis,” my trade adviser tells her. “There’s nothing to negotiate.”
But another adviser gets excited. “But the Tsingvarisans have some sway with the Eruvisans, and they’ve been requesting we change their trade agreements for some time. Perhaps they can intervene.”
While the empire frays at the edges, Orunfax holds the military hostage, and his high commanders dodge my calls, Allie calmly and rationally points out alternatives.
The military knows I’m not fully in command. The nobles know it.
But our allies don’t.
In three goras, I sign thirty-odd treaties granting technology and trade in exchange for allies to secure the fragmenting borders. Multiple long-term wars end, and it’s funny how fast the high commanders want to return my calls then. In fact, they’re more than willing to tell me how badly I’ve damaged the security and domination of the empire, why I shouldn’t have yielded this resource or that territory, etc. The nobles I’ve angered have plenty to tell me as well.
“How dare you cut off my superconductive energy suppliers?” one noble demands, furious. “I will never agree to your confirmation!”
“You already said that,” Allie returns, unimpressed. “What are you going to do, refuse twice?”
He looks punched in the face, then glares. “I might have changed my mind.”
“Well, now you won’t. Is that it? Did you just call to whine?” She shakes her head. “Why don’t you negotiate a trade deal with the suppliers yourself? Only this time, do it without a military gunship forcing them to sign, and at a fair rate for the suppliers, or else someone else will come by and scoop them up instead.”
He glares at me. “A fair rate? What is the meaning of this? We rule the empire because we deserve it. You don’t understand because an emperor never runs a business.”
I raise a brow and put my arm around Allie’s waist. “That’s funny, I seem to recall you in my nightclub every other gora.”
He looks punched again. Then he snarls. “You lesser-loving, weak, ugly—”
I eject my lance.
He stops abruptly.
“I didn’t hear you just now,” I tell him. “I’ll call back when we have a better connection.” And, while he swallows angrily, I use the tip of my lance to end the call. “What noble house is next?”
“In fact, the next noble is House Orunfax.” The policy adviser looks grim. “He’s answered your summons, Emperor Ranse. He’s waiting in your private meeting room.”