Page List

Font Size:

The room fell silent.

"Dad," Red said carefully. "You don't have to?—"

"Don't I?" He looked around the table. "We've exhausted every other option. Legal channels are corrupted. Military intervention would start a war. Direct action would make us enemies of Earth itself."

"There has to be another way," Skinny rumbled. "Some option that doesn't require you to give up who you are."

"Who I am," T'Raal repeated, testing the words. "And who is that, exactly? The leader who couldn't protect the woman he?—"

The words lodged in his throat.

"The woman you love," Skinny finished quietly.

T'Raal nodded, the confession easier than expected. "Yeah. The woman I love."

Silence filled the room. Everyone knew what that meant.

"Well,fuck," Eric said eventually. "That does complicate things."

"Doesn't complicate anything," T'Raal replied. "Makes it simple. I'll do whatever it takes to get her back. Even if it means dealing with my father."

"And after?" Tal asked. "Once you've claimed Imperial intervention, you can't go back. You'll be Prince T'Raal forever. The Empire won't let you return to mercenary life."

"Then I'll be Prince T'Raal. If that's what it takes to save her, I'll be whatever I need to be."

Red leaned forward, looking worried. "You've spent your entire adult life rejecting this. Building something independent. Are you sure you're willing to throw all that away?"

"I'm not throwing anything away." T'Raal straightened. "I'm trading something I built for myself for something that matters more. Reese is worth any price. Including my pride."

"The crew?" Eris asked. "If you become Imperial royalty, what happens to the Warborne?"

Good question. He didn't have an answer. Imperial princes didn't run mercenary crews or dodge arrest warrants.

"We'll figure it out," he said. "After we get her back."

"Dad," Red said. "We could disappear. Operate in sectors where the Empire can't find us. We've done it before."

T'Raal's expression hardened. "No."

"But—"

"No. My mother tried that. Spent her entire life running, hiding, operating on the fringes because she didn't want to deal with Imperial politics. I grew up in exile, Red. Always looking over our shoulders, never staying anywhere long enough to build something permanent."

Red's scales rippled with frustrated energy. "It kept you free."

"It kept us isolated." T'Raal's hands tightened on the table edge. "I'm not putting the rest of you through that. Or Reese. No way. No how. You all deserve better than a life spent running from my family legacy."

Mayce looked up. "If we're going to do this, it needs to be soon. The longer they hold her, the more difficult the extraction becomes. Corporate detention isn't designed for long-term imprisonment. It's designed for permanent elimination."

Time was running out. Imperial intervention was their only shot at reaching her in time.

"Alright," T'Raal said. "Red, set course for Lathar Prime. Maximum burn."

"Dad—"

"That's an order."

Red nodded slowly. "Copy that. Course laid in."