[He looks at him, stick still in the fire. He pulls it back. The more he looks at the fire the more he thinks it might be better to be in another shape.]

...I like that directive. It would save my universe a lot of trouble but I doubt the Empire would follow it. They've been enslaving planets and stripping them of life for ten thousand years.

I'm going to change shape. Don't be alarmed. [He moves a bit away and drops the stick his form turning to light and expanding out into a truck-sized metal lion. He growls once, and thrusts his head into the fire. He's been meticulous and he knows it. But that beats thinking about all the ways they're forced to do things they don't want to.

His voice rolls into the mind in a gentle wave.]

I can still talk while I'm working. One of the benefits of being the Black Lion.