Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tanaca’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Emma had spent enough years reading children’s faces—the guilty ones who’d broken classroom rules, the scared ones hiding problems at home—to recognize the expression instantly.
Tanaca was assessing them the way a collector might assess a rare specimen, cataloguing value and potential uses with every polished glance.
The chamber he’d received them in was designed to intimidate.
Soaring ceilings inlaid with precious metals caught the light from floating luminescent orbs, casting everything in a warm golden glow that somehow managed to feel cold.
Massive tapestries depicting Kaisarian military victories hung along the walls, their threads so fine that the embroidered warriors seemed to breathe.
“Captain va Karr.” Tanaca inclined his head, the gesture precise and calculated. “Lady Emma. How delightful that you’ve accepted my invitation.”
Invitation. That was one word for the heavily armed escort that had met them at the docking bay, the “request” that had carried the weight of a command.
Beside her, Doren’s posture screamed tension despite his casual stance. His tail moved in short, controlled sweeps of barely contained irritation.
“Senior Advisor Tanaca.” Doren’s voice was silk over steel. “I don’t recall having a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Captain. And you did request this meeting.” Tanaca gestured towards a seating area arranged before an ornate desk. “Please, sit. I’ve heard fascinating reports about your recent activities, and I’m eager to discuss them.”
Emma adjusted Ari in her arms. The baby was awake but quiet, her dark eyes tracking the luminescent orbs with curiosity rather than fear. She seemed utterly unbothered by the grandeur surrounding them, more interested in the dancing lights than the political maneuvering about to unfold.
At least one of us isn’t terrified.
They sat. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable—plush fabric over some kind of adaptive cushioning that molded to her body. Tanaca settled behind his desk with the fluid grace of someone who’d spent decades perfecting the art of appearing relaxed while remaining completely in control.
He was Elginar, like Athtar, but where Athtar was an axe, Tanaca was a stiletto, lean and controlled.
High cheekbones, pale blue eyes that missed nothing, and silver-white hair.
His robes were plain dark fabric with subtle embroidery, but somehow that simplicity made him more intimidating rather than less.
“I’ll dispense with pleasantries.” Tanaca steepled his fingers. “You asked for my assistance. Why?”
“I understand that you are aware of the threat represented by the Grorn,” Doren said, his voice carefully neutral.
“Indeed. Which is why I am also aware that you’ve been visiting Precursor waystations. Activating technology that has been dormant for twelve millennia. And you’ve been doing so with a child that our intelligence services have confirmed is Aurelian.”
Doren’s expression didn’t change, but she felt his leg press against hers under the table. A warning.
“Your intelligence services are well-informed,” he said carefully.
“They’re adequate.” Tanaca’s gaze shifted to Ari, and something flickered in those pale eyes—not hunger exactly, but a kind of intense interest that made her arms tighten reflexively. “The Aurelians were believed extinct. Yet here sits a child who proves that belief wrong.”
“She’s not a curiosity to be studied,” she snapped, and both males turned to look at her—Doren with surprise that quickly shifted to approval, and Tanaca with an expression she couldn’t read.
“Of course not,” Tanaca said smoothly. “She’s far more valuable than that.”
“She’s a child.”
“She’s a Key.” Tanaca leaned forward slightly. “One of the Seven. The Silver Key, specifically—the species that activates Precursor technology. Do you have any idea what that means, Lady Emma? What doors she could open? What secrets she could unlock?”
“I know what it means to the Grorn.” Emma’s voice stayed steady despite the fear coiling in her stomach. “They want to dissect her. Study her organs. Find out what makes her special so they can replicate it or destroy it.”
“The Grorn are barbarians.” Tanaca waved a dismissive hand. “The Kaisarian Empire has no such intentions.”
“Then what are your intentions?”
Silence stretched between them. Ari made a soft cooing sound, reaching towards one of the floating light orbs, and the tension in the room shifted ever so slightly.
Tanaca’s smile returned, and this time it seemed almost genuine.
“Protection,” he said. “Knowledge. Cooperation. The Empire has resources that a lone smuggler—however talented—cannot hope to match. Military ships. Diplomatic immunity. Research facilities staffed by the finest scholars in known space.” He spread his hands.
“I’m offering you an alliance, Captain va Karr. Not slavery. Partnership.”
Doren laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.
“Partnership. Right. And what does the Empire want in return for all this generosity?”
“Information.” Tanaca’s eyes sharpened. “You’ve discovered something. The waystations, the artifacts, the star maps—you’re building towards something, and I want to know what it is.”
“Opening the Vault.”
She watched Tanaca’s reaction carefully. A slight widening of the eyes, quickly controlled.
“As the Grorn also plan to do.”
“Which is why they are attempting to intercept us every step of the way.” Doren’s sigh seemed genuine.
“The waystations contain information, but it’s fragmented.
We need more data and more time to piece it together.
And we can’t do that while running from Grorn death squads every time we try to land somewhere. ”
“So you come seeking Imperial protection.”
“I come seeking a deal.” Doren’s tail had stopped moving entirely. “You want information about opening the Vault? Fine. You can have what we’ve discovered. In exchange, I want Emma and Ari protected. Not monitored. Not studied. Protected. Full Imperial sanctuary, no strings attached.”
Tanaca’s fingers tapped against the desk in a slow, thoughtful rhythm.
“That’s a significant request.”
“It’s a significant offer. The Vault has been a legend for thousands of years. Every treasure hunter, every scholar, and every government has searched for it and failed. We’re closer than anyone has ever been. That has to be worth something.”
“It’s worth quite a bit.” Tanaca’s gaze drifted to Ari again. “But information alone won’t help us reach the Vault. The waystations respond to an Aurelian presence—that’s been documented in ancient texts. Any path forward requires the child’s cooperation.”
Her blood went cold.
“No.”
Both males turned to her again. This time she didn’t care about interrupting, didn’t care about protocol or politics or any of the careful games being played around her.
“No,” she repeated. “Ari is not a tool. She’s not a key to be inserted into locks. She’s a baby and I won’t let you use her like some kind of... of living scanner.”
“Lady Emma—”
“I don’t care what you can offer. I don’t care how many ships or scholars or diplomatic privileges you have. If the price of your protection is treating Ari like an object, then we don’t need your protection.”
Doren’s hand found hers under the table and squeezed. When she glanced at him, she saw a combination of pride and concern in his eyes, but he didn’t contradict her.
Tanaca studied her for a long moment. The silence stretched until Emma wanted to scream just to break it.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
“You remind me of someone,” he said quietly.
“The Emperor’s consort. She has that same fire when it comes to protecting children.
” He leaned back in his chair, some of the rigid formality bleeding out of his posture.
“I’m not suggesting we strap the child to machinery and force her to work, Lady Emma.
I’m suggesting that when Precursor artifacts are discovered, she be given the opportunity to interact with them. Voluntarily. With you present.”
“And if she’s distressed?”
“Then we stop. Immediately.” Tanaca spread his hands. “The Empire’s interest is in understanding the Precursors, not traumatizing infants. A frightened child activating unknown technology is a danger to everyone, including herself.”
She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe that there was a path forward that didn’t mean raising Ari in the shadows of a cargo ship while Grorn assassins hunted them across the galaxy.
But trust didn’t come easily. Not anymore.
“I want that in writing,” she said.
Tanaca raised an eyebrow.
“A formal agreement. Official documentation stating that Ari’s involvement with any artifacts is voluntary, supervised by me, and can be terminated at any time if she shows signs of distress.” She lifted her chin. “If the Empire wants our cooperation, they can put their promises on record.”
Another long silence. Then Tanaca laughed—a genuine sound that transformed his face for just a moment into something startlingly handsome. He nodded.
“Very well. However I will remind you that your information is incomplete.”
“Incomplete but valuable. We’re not done searching.”
“Then you will share any new information with me.”
It was not a request.
“As will you,” Doren responded.
The two males stared at each other across the desk, and she could feel the tension crackling between them.
Ari chose that moment to sneeze.
It was such a tiny, absurd sound that she almost laughed. The baby blinked, looking vaguely offended by her own nose, and then immediately began reaching for the lights again as if nothing had happened.
The tension broke.
“Very well,” Tanaca said briskly. “Protection for the human and the child, formal documentation of the voluntary nature of any artifact interaction, and Imperial resources in exchange for cooperation and information sharing. On both sides.” He rose from his chair, signaling that the meeting was coming to an end.
“I’ll have preliminary documentation prepared within the day.
In the meantime, you’re welcome to remain on the station as guests of the Empire. ”
“How generous.”
“Isn’t it?” Tanaca’s smile was back, polished and impenetrable. “A pleasure meeting you, Lady Emma. Captain va Karr, I look forward to a... productive partnership.”
The corridor outside Tanaca’s chambers was wide enough to fly a small ship through, lined with the same precious metals and imposing artwork that had decorated the meeting room. Imperial guards flanked the doorway, their expressions as blank and unreadable as statues.
Doren didn’t speak until they were well out of earshot.
“I don’t like him.”
“I noticed.”
“He’s everything I’ve spent my life avoiding. Politics. Bureaucracy. People who treat others like pieces on a game board.” His tail lashed against his leg.
“Athtar doesn’t like him either.” She adjusted Ari, who had fallen asleep against her shoulder. “But it was the right choice.”
“Was it?” Doren stopped walking, turning to face her. “Maybe I should have found another way. Maybe I should have kept running, kept—”
“Kept getting us nearly killed every few weeks?” She reached up with her free hand, touching his cheek the way she had aboard the Vagabond. “Doren. We made this decision together.”
His eyes closed. She could feel the tension in him, the barely contained frustration of a man who had built his entire identity around independence and was now learning to let it go.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I just... I hate feeling trapped. And this feels like a trap, no matter how many documents we sign.”
“Maybe. But it’s a trap that comes with resources and protection and a chance to actually find what we’re looking for instead of running forever.” She smiled slightly. “Besides, you heard Tanaca. I reminded him of the Emperor’s consort. That’s got to count for something.”
His eyes opened, and despite everything, a hint of amusement flickered in them. “You did handle him well. Where did that come from?”
“Five years of parent-teacher conferences.” She shrugged. “You learn to hold your ground when someone’s trying to intimidate you into changing a grade or overlooking bad behavior.”
“So Tanaca is basically an overprotective parent trying to bully a teacher.”
“More or less.”
He laughed—a real laugh this time, warm and surprised. “Gods, I love you.”
The words hung in the air between them, and her heart squeezed. He’d said it before, in the aftermath of their escape, but hearing it again—calm and certain and completely unguarded—was something else entirely.
“I love you too,” she said softly. “Even when you’re being stubborn and impossible.”
“Especially when I’m being stubborn and impossible?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
He leaned down and kissed her, gentle and sweet, mindful of the sleeping baby between them. When he pulled back, some of the tension had finally drained from his shoulders.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find our quarters and figure out what we’re actually going to tell Tanaca about the Vault. Because right now, I’m not sure I want to give him everything.”
“Information is power.”
“Exactly. And I’m not ready to hand over all of ours just yet.”
They walked together through the gleaming corridors of Imperial power, a smuggler and a schoolteacher and a silver-skinned baby who might just hold the key to everything. It wasn’t the life she had imagined for herself. It wasn’t safe or simple or anything close to normal.
But as Doren’s hand found hers again, warm and steady, she realized she wouldn’t trade it for anything.