“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, nottraumatizing 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.
