Markath looked out over the human city of Marsport and tried to hold in a frustrated sigh. The crude, messy sprawl of buildings spread like a cancer across the Martian landscape around the crystal spire of the Dragon Palace. If he had his way it would all have been swept out of sight, but that wasn't going to happen. Not so long as Emperor Verikan felt the need for human assistance in rebuilding what was left of the empire.

As he watched, one of the heavy and graceless human spaceships dropped from the sky, thrusters glowing bright. Engines howling, it slowed and lowered itself to the black-fused sand of the spaceport. More human colonists coming to scavenge at the remains of the empire.

I wish they didn't have to be so close, he thought, turning away from the balcony. It made sense, though. Humans smuggling stolen dragon technology off Mars was a serious concern, so the emperor wanted the ships to land where they could be watched and inspected. It had been just over one Earth year since human explorers had woken the last remnants of the Dragon Empire, and the two species were still working out how to cooperate.

It would have been easier, in Markath's opinion, if the humans would simply take their place in the empire. They were a weak species, and their technology primitive. Not one of them, he was sure, had the heart of a true warrior. But it too few of them wanted to join the empire, and the emperor had decided against conquest.

Markath wasn't sure that had been the right choice, but it was the emperor's to make. As Guardian of the Ways it wasn't his place to disagree with the ruler of the empire. Not even if the empire currently consisted of just one planet and a few hundred dragons.

Once the Dragon Empire had spanned a thousand star systems and ruled over more species than Markath could name, but those days were a thousand years in the past. The dragons of Mars had slept through most of the disastrous rebellion which had ended the empire, and they didn't even know what had happened. If they could build a starship they might cross the gulf of space to find out what had happened to the rest of the empire, but for now this was all they had.

And even this we must share with the humans, Markath thought.

"You look pensive today, Markath," Emperor Verikan said, entering the garden behind him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Apologies, sire," he replied, bowing and shaking himself free of his thoughts. "Nothing of any importance."

He could hardly tell his emperor — not when Verikan's mate was a human herself. That was one of the important benefits of the alliance with Earth: all the surviving dragons had been warriors of the Dragon Guard, and male. They needed mates from amongst the humans, or they'd be extinct in a generation.

Markath was glad that there was a way for his people to survive, and equally glad that he wasn't going to be part of that. He hadn't the least interest in a human female. If fate had ever had a match in mind for him, she was probably long-dead with the rest of the dragon shifters of the empire.

"Very well, then. Let us get to business," Verikan said, smiling and striding to the table in the center of the imperial garden. That's what the rooftop space was called, at least, though so far it didn't live up to the name. It held little in the way of plant life, only a few bare trees and some shrubbery. So little life had survived the rebellion which had nearly wiped them out, a thousand years ago.

Importing Earth life would have been easy enough, of course, with the humans so eager to trade. But for warriors used to the fruits of thousands of worlds, the plants of one were not enough. Markath hoped that, sooner or later, some seeds or even perhaps some surviving animal life would surface. Something to bring more life to this place, through which they could remember the stars that gave them birth.

"What would you have of me, sire?" Markath asked, joining the emperor at the table. Verikan gestured, and holographic documents sprung into being above its surface.

"I would value your advice, Guardian," Verikan said formally, selecting one of the documents and expanding it. Markath looked closer, seeing a map that showed the human settlements on Mars. An overlay showed an older map of dragon civilization, from before the fall. That map was a thousand years out of date, and the destruction of the Empire on Mars had been complete enough that nothing on the surface had survived. Even buried structures were often gone, and landmarks had shifted over the thousand years they'd slept. Working out where the two maps touched was little better than guesswork.

But even so, Markath didn't like what he saw.

"The humans build too close to the ruins of our people, sire," he said. "We should clear them back, stop them uncovering too much of our technology on their own. You know that they will try to smuggle it off-world when they can, to study it without our permission."

Verikan shook his head. "You're too harsh on our human partners, Markath. We need their help both to uncover our old technology and understand it. None of us are scientists now, but they won't be able to learn much without our help, either. We need each other if we're to go back to the stars, and we must work together with them."

"We need their engineers, perhaps," Markath allowed. "And their planet's resources. That doesn't mean that they are our equals, Majesty."

I shouldn't talk to him like that, he thought. There was no fear in him, but it wasn't right for a Guardian to admonish the Dragon Emperor. On the other hand, he knew that Verikan would welcome his criticism. Indeed, he was nodding slowly, considering Markath's words.

"Our empire fell because we held it too tightly, because we saw all other species as threats or as prey," the emperor said. "I won't make the same mistake my ancestors did, Markath. There are too few of us left, and we need the humans too much, to offer anything less than our friendship. And that is beside the opportunity we have to help them, and they to help us."

Markath held back his snort of disbelief at the idea that the humans could have anything to offer the Empire and settled for a stony look to express his feelings. Verikan grinned at him, clearly guessing his feelings, which only made him feel worse.

"I know you disapprove, Markath. That's why I need your help. There has already been too much tension between us, and as Guardian your voice has more power than most. I need you to help the men understand this alliance, to agree with it. We need every dragon on our side."

"You don't need me, sire," Markath protested. "You are the emperor; give an order and I will obey, and so will any other dragon."

Verikan laughed outright at that, and Markath's wings flapped, showing his anger. It wasn't anger at the emperor, but at those who'd betrayed him. Too many of the Dragon Guard had already abandoned their posts and turned pirate or worse rather than obey the orders of their new leader. Markath took a deep breath and tried again.

"Anyone who is worthy of a place in the Guard will obey, anyway. The rest are weaklings and traitors that you are better off without. Neither group will listen to me, anyway." He hoped that would be convincing enough. Markath had no desire to spend any more time than he absolutely had to around humans.

"You underestimate how much the others respect you, Markath," Verikan said with a sigh. "And how precarious my position is. The Empire is weak, its flame nearly burned out. We have to rekindle it carefully, and any stray breeze could snuff out the spark that remains. There are plenty of our kin who see my path as weak and foolish, but who look up to you. Your support for my dealings with the humans would be invaluable."

"As my emperor commands, then," Markath said, taking refuge in formality. "I support you fully, and will make that clear to all."

Verikan looked at him, and for the first time Markath saw just how tired his emperor was. It showed in his eyes, in his posture, and most of all in the weary shake of his head. "That will have to do, I suppose," he said.

The look of disappointment hit hard, but Markath didn't know what else to say. He wouldn't lie and claim to be enthusiastic about an alliance that threatened everything he knew and loved. And how could he convince others when he wasn't sure himself?

"Sire," he said, and paused. "Sire, are you certain that allying with the humans is the right course? There is so much danger."

"Yes," Verikan said. "I can't say that you're wrong, only that it's a danger that we must face. Without them we die, and with them, we can survive and even thrive. Markath, you believe in fate, don't you? What else can it be that has put us in this position? I was the first to awake after the Great Sleep, and it was my mate who woke me — a human."

Markath grimaced. That was something he couldn't argue with. There were dragons who didn't believe in fate, of course, and Verikan had been one before he'd met his empress. Markath knew better and always had.

"That we can find our mates amongst them doesn't mean that the whole species is our equal," he tried. "The First Emperor married a Guriad, but her species were never citizens of the Dragon Empire even though the entire royal house is descended from one. The Guriad were fierce warriors and great nanoengineers. They are far closer to our equals than humans can be."

"Perhaps the humans will surprise you yet, Guardian," Verikan responded. "The Farjump Project is our only way back to the stars, in any case. If you want to meet the Guriad again, then you'd best hope that the humans are our equals there,"

Markath's jaw tightened at that, and he had no answer. Farjump was the plan to build a ship capable of traveling to another star system. Markath knew that the dragons who remained weren't up to the task of building the spaceport needed for such a ship on their own. The emperor was right that they needed humans for that project, if nothing else. There were simply too few dragons to build the space station it needed, and they were all warriors rather than engineers. In any case, the human corporations were keen to be a part of the project.

Of course they are, he thought bitterly. If they can steal our space technology they think they can usurp our place in the stars. And I will die before I let that happen.

"Someone has to watch them," he said aloud. "Someone has to keep our secrets safe."

Verikan's look was tired. "Do you think I don't? There's a risk, yes, but we have to take it. And it will be easier if I have your wholehearted and enthusiastic support."

Markath frowned before he could get himself under control, and then shook his head. "I know that you think it's best, sire. And you are the emperor, your decision binds me — but I cannot say I approve or agree. I will not lie, not even for you."

Verikan nodded sadly, and Markath was glad that he didn't have to bear the weight of these decisions himself. But then a small smile appeared on the emperor's face, and spread into a grin. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes as he took up a fighting stance facing Markath.

"Perhaps there is another way around our differences, Markath. In the old days when there was a dispute amongst our people it could be settled in combat. Those traditions are what you've sworn to uphold, aren't they?"

"Sire. That's unwise," Markath said, sliding into his own combat stance. "You are my emperor, and I'm here to advise you, not fight with you. You are too important to risk."

In fact, the tradition of fighting to settle differences was a limited one. The dragon shifters of the empire were warriors, not barbarians, and no one believed that the strongest fighter was necessarily the wisest. Still, the emperor was right: the tradition existed for matters that couldn't be resolved any other way, and Markath had to admit that this might fit that description.

But to fight an emperor? That wasn't part of the traditions he loved so dearly. The Guardian should protect his emperor, not harm him.

Verikan had other ideas though, and he wouldn't be argued with. "If you win, I won't ask you to support my alliance with the humans again. If I win, however, you will embrace the alliance fully and let all know that it has your backing."

It is a warrior's solution, Markath admitted to himself. Very well.

"Let us settle it then," he said. "But no shifting, I will not risk the harm my warform might do to you, sire."

Verikan raised an eyebrow as though amused by Markath's words. Perhaps he thought it arrogant to presume that he'd be the one to come off worse in a fight — but Markath kept his gaze steady. It wasn't arrogance: An injury to him didn't matter, but if Verikan was slain it could spell doom for the entire Dragon Empire.

After a moment, Verikan nodded agreement. "Very well, Markath. We'll fight in human form, until one of us yields or suffers an injury. Will those terms suffice?"

"They will, your Majesty," Markath said with a grin, bracing himself and leaping forward. The emperor lunged to meet him, and the fight began.