Page 40 of Alien Mercenary’s Wife (Lathar Mercenaries: Warborne #7)

T he presidential shuttle touched down, its engines still spooling down as armored troops poured from the cargo bay.

T'Raal counted at least two full squads, weapons trained on the scattered remains of corporate security forces.

Imperial combat robots stood silent among the wreckage, their weapons lowered but ready.

He stood beside his father in the sudden quiet, acutely aware of the blood splattered across his clothes and the way human soldiers tracked his every movement.

Behind them, the medical shuttles had already departed with Reese and Mason, racing toward the Devan station with Lord Healer, Laarn K'Vass.

She was safe. Whatever came next, his little mate was safe.

A man emerged from the presidential shuttle, moving with lethal grace despite the tailored suit.

Young for a human president, built like a weapon wrapped in expensive fabric.

T'Raal frowned. He'd never met President Murphy before now, but the male wouldn't look out of place among any group of Latharian warriors.

Murphy's attention tracked across the wreckage—bodies, weapons, blood—without flinching before settling on Daaynal.

"Stand down," he ordered sharply. The human troops lowered their weapons. "All units, secure the perimeter but do not engage Imperial forces."

"Cameron." Daaynal swept his arms wide in welcome. "Thank you for coming personally."

President Cameron Murphy walked toward them, a broad smile across his face. "When you call and say you need immediate support on Earth, I drop everything. Though I have to admit, I'm curious what was important enough to bring you here personally with your drakeen."

T'Raal glanced around. Draanth , he hadn't noticed the insignia on the four combat units positioned around them.

His father's personal mark. He turned and looked at Daaynal, spotting the link band half-hidden beneath his father's long hair.

Four drakeen under simultaneous control. Most pilots barely managed one.

Murphy's gaze swept the destroyed transports, the bodies of corporate security personnel, the scattered evidence of what had clearly been a one-sided battle. "Who the hell owns these transports?" he barked out.

One of the surviving corporate guards looked between the president and the emperor with obvious terror. "Nexus Dynamics, sir. The corporate security division."

Murphy's expression darkened. "Nexus Dynamics was conducting armed operations on Earth without authorization?"

Daaynal gestured T'Raal forward. "T'Raal can explain the situation better than I can. He's been investigating their activities."

Murphy's attention focused on T'Raal. His gaze was sharp with intelligence as he took in the blood splattered on T'Raal's combats and his weapons, neither of which were Imperial standard. "Who are you?"

"Crown Prince T'Raal K'Saan," Daaynal replied, puffing his chest out with pride. "My son."

Something twisted in T'Raal's chest at the title.

"T'Raal Verran-K'Saan," he corrected. He wouldn't abandon the name his mother had given him, not even for Imperial protocol.

Daaynal cut him a sharp glance, but he nodded. "Of course. Crown Prince T'Raal Verran, of the house of K'Saan."

Murphy gave a short nod and got right down to business. "Well, Your Highness, what kind of investigation brings Imperial royalty into armed conflict with corporate security on my soil?"

T'Raal straightened. He liked Murphy.

"Nexus Dynamics manufactured defective neural implants for Scorperio units. The implants are killing veterans slowly, causing progressive paralysis and system failure. When the veterans tried to seek legal remedy, Nexus began systematically eliminating them."

Murphy's expression set, a small muscle in the corner of his jaw pulsing. "Eliminating them how?"

"Assassination teams. Staged accidents. Corporate killers with government clearances making inconvenient witnesses disappear.

" T'Raal's voice hardened. "They were transporting two veterans to a black site facility for permanent disposal when we intervened.

There's a third still unaccounted for. A male named Hughes," he added.

Just because Reese wasn't here to look after her people, it didn't mean he was going to forget them. "There are others as well."

Murphy's expression grew colder with each word, presidential composure giving way to hardness. "How many veterans are we talking about?"

"Fifty-three filed the original lawsuit. Less than ten still live." T'Raal let that number hang in the air. "The rest died in accidents that became less accidental the closer they got to court."

"Fuck me." Murphy hissed and ran a hand through his hair. "I had no knowledge of this. None whatsoever."

He snapped a look at T'Raal. "These veterans—are they safe now?"

"Two are receiving Imperial medical treatment. The others..." T'Raal shrugged. "We'll find them, protect them, and make sure they get justice. With your permission for the Warborne to operate on Earth, of course."

"Granted." Murphy's agreement was instant. "And Nexus Dynamics?"

"Will face justice," T'Raal said. "Through human courts or Imperial intervention."

Murphy's expression hardened as he shook his head. "They'll face justice through human courts. This happened on Earth, to human citizens. That makes it my jurisdiction." He paused, studying both men. "Though I appreciate any evidence you can provide."

T'Raal studied the human president.

"Can we trust you?" he asked bluntly.

Murphy grinned, the expression transforming his serious features. "How's Sparky doing these days?"

T'Raal blinked, the question so unexpected it took him a moment to process. "Sparky? He's... what does that have to do with anything?"

"Just curious about an old teammate." Murphy's smile widened. "We served together, back in the day. Tell him Buchanan says hi when you see him."

Understanding dawned. "You're NOMAD."

"Was NOMAD. These days, I'm just a president trying to keep his people safe." Murphy's expression grew serious again. "Which includes keeping them safe from asshole corporations that like to murder people. You have my word that this will be investigated thoroughly."

The sound of approaching engines drew their attention upward. Latharian troop ships dropped from orbit, their blocky hulls bearing the Imperial seal.

"That's our ride," Daaynal said, clasping Murphy's shoulder in farewell. "Thank you, Cameron. For everything."

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Murphy looked at T'Raal. "Your Highness, a pleasure to meet you. I'd appreciate it if you could keep me updated on the status of the veterans under your protection. And please let me know if I can do anything for them."

"Of course." T'Raal nodded, starting to respect the human president. "Murphy?"

The human tilted his head slightly. "Yes?"

"Sparky would ask if you want anything blown up."

Murphy laughed, the sound carrying genuine warmth. "Same old Sparky. Tell him I'll keep that in mind if I need any creative problem-solving."

"You might want to use his proper title now. He's now King Jayce of Ryed Tanneth. He married into royalty and won't let anyone forget it."

"King Jayce?" Murphy's grin widened. "Christ, that must be insufferable. How's everyone else handling it?"

"About as well as you'd expect." He chuckled. "My daughter threatens to space him when he gets too pompous."

"Your daughter married Sparky?" Murphy's expression shifted between amusement and disbelief.

"One of her husbands," Daaynal interjected with evident satisfaction. "And as my granddaughter's husband, he is also a prince of the lathar as well."

T'Raal shot his father a surprised look. He hadn't expected Daaynal to so readily embrace his unconventional family. Daaynal winked.

"A prince of the lathar?" Murphy shook his head. "Well fuck me. Anyway… that makes him your problem now. So, it's a win-win for me."

"Asshole." Daaynal chuckled. "Oh, and remember next week's ball, the Vorrtan are sending a new ambassador, and I've heard she's an absolute ball-buster."

Amusement filled Murphy's face. "I don't know why you lot have such trouble with the Vorrtan. You just have to know how to speak to a lady, that's all."

"Yeah, yeah. See you there," Daaynal waved a hand in dismissal, shaking his head as he turned and headed to the transports.

T'Raal followed his father, stepping into the transport's cramped interior—a metal box lined with utilitarian seats, with engines strapped to the outside for maximum efficiency. He settled into the seat beside his father as the shuttle lifted off with a mechanical roar.

He ached to see his mate again. Flexing his hands, he stared at the dark patterns around his wrists. Mating marks. After a century and a half of believing he'd die alone, the universe had given him a mate. A soulmate.

"Remarkable things, those marks," Daaynal said quietly, noticing his attention.

T'Raal looked up to find his father watching him. Lines carved deep around Daaynal's eyes spoke of old pain and regret.

"I never experienced that bond with M'Aarni," Daaynal continued in a low voice. "But I always wondered what it would feel like."

"It wasn't meant to be between you two," T'Raal said. "I figured that out years ago."

Daaynal's shoulders sagged slightly, the Emperor's mask slipping to reveal the man underneath. He stared out the small viewport at the stars wheeling past, his reflection ghostlike in the reinforced glass.

"I wish I'd known you existed. Wish I could have watched you grow up, been there when you needed guidance."

He turned back to T'Raal, and the naked hope in his eyes was almost painful to witness. "But seeing the man you've become... I couldn't be prouder. I hope you'll allow me the privilege of being in your life now."

Consciousness returned slowly, and Reese lay still for a moment, testing her body's responses before fully waking. No pain. For the first time in months, there was no constant ache and no electric fire shooting down her spine.