The king looked pained. “I’m afraid not.”
Kat studied him for a long moment. King Hadrian was only two years older than she was, and the recipient of enough genetic modification to ensure he’d have a lifespan of well over two centuries even without rejuvenation treatments, but he looked haggard, as if the constant battle to keep the political system from tearing itself apart was slowly grinding him down. He was as handsome as ever, yet . . . there was an edge to his expression she found worrying, as though he was reaching the end of his tether.
“There is a bid to start a phased withdrawal from the occupied sector,” the king said. His voice was grim. “You may find yourself ordered to pull your ships back to Maxwell’s Haven before too long.”
“. . . Shit,” Kat said. “Your Majesty . . . we might be on the verge of winning!”
The king nodded. “That’s my read on the situation too,” he said. “We cannot let everyone who died die for nothing. And yet, Parliament is on the verge of surrendering to their fears.”
“They can’t,” Kat protested. “I . . . I can try to convince them.”
“They’re not listening to anyone,” the king said. “Some of them genuinely believe that our economy is on the verge of collapse, some of them believe that whatever happens in the occupied sector doesn’t matter to us, some of them . . . some of them are more interested in battling for power than anything else. The political situation is a mess.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” Kat said. “And Peter talked to me . . . Is it really that bad?”
The king said nothing for a long moment. “Parliament has always been insular,” he said, finally. “And they have been historically unwilling to risk expansion beyond our solar system. The Commonwealth was my father’s brainchild, and you know how hard it was to get even the stage-three and stage-four colony worlds cleared for membership. It was almost impossible to get them to sit MPs from the Commonwealth worlds.”
“And their votes are practically meaningless,” Kat said. She’d done her best to ignore politics as much as possible, but serving with William had left her with a new appreciation of just how badly the system had failed the colonies. “And that isn’t going to change in a hurry.”
“No,” the king agreed. “And, as long as they make it difficult to ennoble colonials, it isn’t going to get any better.”
William’s a knight, Kat thought. But he had a few unfair advantages over his fellows.
She took a long breath. “I don’t want to be rude, Your Majesty, but I do have a great deal of work to do.”
The king smiled. “You’re bored stiff behind a desk, Kat,” he said. “That’s why you went gallivanting off to hunt pirates.”
“Yes,” Kat said flatly.
“Your old friend Justin Deveron made a big song and dance about it last night,” the king said. “He was quite insistent that things would have been different if you’d remained on Ahura Mazda. I’m surprised your brother didn’t have his bosses sued for slander. He really did push the line.”
“Peter has always been unconcerned about what people say about him,” Kat said. It was admirable, she supposed. Justin Deveron was a gnat. No one who knew anything about naval realities would believe that Kat could have done something if she’d stayed on Ahura Mazda. The Theocrats had vanished back into hyperspace long before any reinforcements had arrived. “And I don’t care what Deveron says.”
“There are others who do care,” the king said. “He did have quite a reputation, once upon a time.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Right now, I want you to carry on and not worry about withdrawal,” he added. “Plan on the assumption that the Commonwealth will remain engaged for the foreseeable future. I’m doing everything in my power to stall the vote until I have enough backers to defeat it. And . . . we need a victory.”
“I understand,” Kat said. She wasn’t sure what to make of what was happening on Tyre. “I wish I could guarantee a victory.”
“I wish you could too,” the king told her. “Do everything in your power to make one happen.” He paused. “We knew there would be . . . problems . . . in the aftermath of the war,” he added. “But these are the problems of victory! They are not having such a good time.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kat said.
The king saluted, then closed the connection. Kat leaned back in her chair, feeling unsure of herself. Technically, she hadn’t been given any orders to withdraw; practically, Parliament might expect her to see which way the political winds were blowing. And that might leave her trapped between King Hadrian, who appeared to be the only one actually trying to deal with the situation, and Parliament. And her family.
“Crap,” she muttered.
She stood and walked over to the window. General Winters had been right. There were hundreds of thousands of people who had placed their lives in her hands. They could not be abandoned, whatever it took. It was a debt of honor. She had no intention of refusing to pay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ASHER DALES
“They’re doing better than I expected,” William said as Tanya and he watched the trainees slowly making their way through the captured hulk. “But don’t tell them that, please.”
Tanya glanced at him, sharply. “Why not?”
William grinned at her, then returned his attention to the monitors. “They cannot be allowed to think that they’ll be praised for every little thing,” he said. “That leads to overconfidence, and overconfidence leads to disaster. I really don’t want to lose a trainee so soon.”
“I see, I think,” Tanya said. “I was never told that when I was in law school.”
“If you make a mistake as a lawyer, it can be fixed,” William reminded her. “Here . . . if someone makes a mistake, the consequences can be fatal. And there’s no way to remove the risk completely without ruining the training.”
He shrugged expressively. There was no way they could duplicate the extensive facilities and concealed safety precautions
