"Coward." Di'On stared at Raimahan, standing tall and straight as chaos erupted around them. "Afraid to fight your own battles. Afraid to face your enemies directly. You had to kill him from a distance."

"To protect Romulus," Raimahan countered. "He would have subjugated us to the Federation - he's better off dead."

"That," Di'On said, "was not your decision to make."

"Whose was it?" Raimahan sneered. "Yours?"

There was only one answer Di'On could offer. "The emperor bows to no one's will but his own."

It was an old adage, as old as the Empire itself. Some called it the First Rule, though Di'On didn't agree.

Still, saying it had more effect than she'd hoped.

Raimahan snarled, lunging off the dais toward her. She took a half-step back, and as he went for her throat, she grabbed his wrist and pivoted, sending him stumbling across the hall to trip over Jim where he lay prone on the floor, phaser raised as he fired at the intruders.

Raimahan regained his footing quickly and leapt over Jim's body to rush Di'On again.

Di'On couldn't deny Raimahan was well-trained, as all who fought for the Empire were. He even had a couple of advantages - strength, reach - over her. But she had more training than a typical centurion soldier would. She had training at the hands of the Imperial Guard.

It was that training she called on now, dodging his swung fist, diving under the foot he aimed at her head.

She dodged him for a few minutes, allowing his rage to take over, make him clumsy and awkward.

When it happened, when she saw the reason leave his eyes, Di'On lunged forward, planting a kick solidly to Raimahan's gut, sending his body flying backward to land awkwardly on the dais he'd so recently vacated.

Then she turned to face the others. Jim had gotten to his feet, and looked like he wanted to smile, but he was too cautious, too much a warrior, to count this battle over just yet.

Di'On stepped forward. Whatever her fate, she would meet it like a warrior.

Then Kanpar dropped to his knees. "Empress. My life is yours."

Fortunately, Di'On had grown up in and around the court, and she knew how to command a situation. It was the work of a few moments to have Raimahan and his crew escorted to prison - in ancient times, she would have summarily executed him, but in these times, his execution would have to wait until after his conviction.

Then she had a moment to breathe, to accept the reality of what she'd just done. She'd just claimed the throne that her family had occupied for the last four and a half centuries - and all the duties and responsibilities that went with it.

And the price she'd pay for them.

Behind her, she heard Jim's voice.

"Kirk to Enterprise. How's it going up there?"

"Valdore fired on us," Spock replied, "but ceased upon detecting the transmission from the surface."

"Good work, Spock." Jim said. "We're done here. Start beaming the others up. I'll be along in a few."

"Acknowledged."

Di'On faced him as he snapped his communicator shut. He grinned, and if it wasn't the smile she'd seen when they were alone together, it was a close approximation, and her breath caught momentarily in her throat.

"Congratulations, Your Highness."

"We prefer Your Honor," Di'On corrected automatically. "It's what we strive for, the ideal we hope to achieve."

"Your Honor, then." Jim sketched a brief bow.

Di'On glanced around the room. "Leave us."

Di'On let the room empty around them before she crossed to Jim. "You need never call me by my title, Jim."

He didn't acknowledge that. Instead, his lips quirked somewhere between a grin and a grimace. "Damned if you didn't end up with the deskiest of all desk jobs."

"I would do so again," she said.

"I know." Jim blew out a breath, managed a hint of a smile. "This is goodbye, then."

Di'On would not dishonor him, nor what they'd shared, with a lie. "Yes."

For a long moment, his gaze locked with hers. Romulans were not telepathic, not even by touch, like their Vulcan cousins. Even so, Di'On could almost feel his thoughts - the thoughts of what they might have shared, might have become, had events been even somewhat different.

Before the silence between them could grow too long or too awkward, Jim glanced around the now-empty room before leaning closer and asking, "Will it cause a diplomatic incident if a starship captain kisses an empress goodbye for now?"

Di'On had to smile, even as she leaned close to whisper in turn, "I think there are very few things this starship captain could do with this empress that will cause a diplomatic incident."

Jim returned her smile, then bent his head forward for a lingering kiss.

"You are always welcome here, Jim," she whispered against his lips.

"Be well, Di'On."

He brushed his lips against hers a final time before turning away and pulling out his communicator.

Di'On turned away even as she strained to hear his voice one last time. "Kirk to Enterprise. Soon as I'm clear of the palace, one to beam up."

As the Enterprise solidified around him, Jim wasn't entirely surprised to see Spock waiting in the transporter room.

"I trust your mission ended successfully, Captain."

The words and tone were formal, but through their bond, Jim felt Spock's genuine concern.

Jim blew out a breath. "Successful enough. Let's get the hell out of here."

NOTE: A word to the wise: never title a work in progress "Trying Times." Some sympathetic magic operates to bring precisely that into your life. Or at least, it did into mine - which explains the delay in getting the story finished and also the oops in the previous chapter about Jim's weapon. It also explains why I'm not certain when I'll get any of the other stories I have in mind for this series written. Thanks for sharing this series with me this far!