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A world where a forced marriage to a useless human was the supposedly clever, spiteful device of my father, the ruler of my Empire, and I had to bend to his will.
I pulled myself from the bed and swung into my chair at the desk. I thumbed open the flashing screen to go through a few of the alerts on my screen while I waited for a cup of highly caffeinated, fragrant morning tea to brew at my deskside.
Routine updates from the battalions. Lists of supplies that were low. A frustrated memo from the wedding caterer. A rather interesting intelligence report about potential uprisings on some outer planets. Rumbles of discontent on Earth—perhaps what Vishin was whispering about with his forked tongue?
I dismissed Vishin’s conspiracies as I saw the rather sobering list of complaints from the ENDPPTA—the Earth, Nova Dominion, Prexis Prime Trade Alliance Liaison. While Earth had to provide us military recruits, there was a certain expectation that they would be cared for. I couldn’t believe there would be a rebel uprising, but legitimate policy changes could be coming.
The expectation that the Earthlings had, was flawed. The ND knew better. Prexis didn’t give a shit.
It was hard to argue that humans were good for anything besides distraction and subterfuge plays, while the real warriors were given better equipment and strategies. Their intelligence and frail structures just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the galaxy.
But the numbers of dead on the Earthling side were undoubtedly piling up. I grimaced as I saw the figures. At this rate, how many more viable draft members would there be to glean from Earth in the next year or two?
No wonder there were complaints.
I shrugged and picked up my tea. Earthlings were frail. Their lives were brief. Their planet was overpopulated, their infrastructure poorly managed, and their healthcare lightyears in the past.
I sank back into the chair and sipped the tea. I sighed compulsively. It smelled like her.
Would I ever actually smell her this closely? She would be my wife. It was symbolic to Prexis. What was it actually going to be to me? Was I going to treat her like a wife? Take her to my bed? Take her into my life and the roles of a partner?
I hadn’t really considered it. She was human, after all. They didn’t really deserve to serve in that place.
I smiled as I recalled how she stood up to me and even got in a few good slugs in the boxing ring. Plus, how she had thrown that knife at the dinner was surprisingly impressive. She had shown her alliance to be on my side. I couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture.
Jasmine indeed declared differently that she, of all humans, deserved a place beside me.
I looked back at the ticking number of growing humans slain in pursuit of Prexis Empire goals.
Maybe I would give Jasmine a chance.
A purr rumbled in my chest, and there was a tightening in my pants as I recalled how her delicate fingers explored with such firm and forward determination as we rolled in my bed.
Maybe she deserved all the chances...
As I looked at the computer screen, a slew of memo alerts with carefully worded admonishments came through, all pertaining to wedding arrangements, as if the planner had been waiting for me to be awake just to send them.
I grumbled and flipped through them half-heartedly.
A nice gesture would be to include Jasmine in planning all of it. That could be one way to show her that my alliance was with her, too.
Plus, I didn’t want to deal with these menial tasks. If she wanted to familiarize herself more with the ship and our customs, working on the wedding logistics would be just the way to do it.
I nodded and set those alerts to the side in a different folder on the desktop.
It would be a nice gesture and, at the same time, make it clear to my father that I would not be handling his little ploy to saddle me with a human exactly how he wanted me to.
That was what he had always hated about me the most. No matter what he wanted me to do, I always found a way to do it with unexpected methods, and somehow, it always turned out for the better.
11
Jasmine
The piles of demolitions were easily identifiable once I got them out of the Prexis Prime Empire blue and copper munitions boxes.
I had studied all the blasting agents and primers this alien species used in its mining endeavors and military exploits. The Resistance had access to information from all across the Nova Dominion. We had worked hard to become well-equipped, and my training had been extensive before this mission.
My heart stuttered as I thought of all my brethren who had died to get that information. I paused, mouthed a solemn phrase of gratitude, and then continued in my sorting.
