Yet she remained a cipher to him. The extent of her loyalties to The Republic and her own Lord Governor were unknown, and it was unclear to Aaron whether she would respond better to diplomatic seduction or simple intimidation. Perhaps he would try a little of both.

A narrow aisle separated the raised platform, on which he sat, from the rest of the room. She walked purposefully over to stand in front of him. He glanced down at her and smiled what he knew, from hours of practice in front of a mirror, was a reassuring smile. “Things are going well, Marilou. With luck, we may have the capital firmly back in our control by tomorrow afternoon.”

She flinched slightly when he used her first name. She evidently did not enjoy his familiarity, but was in no position to object. It was the sort of subtle display of power and authority that the Duke enjoyed.

“I would prefer to be in the capital myself, instead of cowering here in your DropShip.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And do what? Get yourself shot? I don’t know if you’re more concerned about your people or political appearances, but trust me, neither of them would have been served if you’d stayed in the capital and gotten killed or captured. Nothing will speed the return of New Aragon to normality when this is over than a big parade through the center of Argos to the Capitol Building, celebrating your triumphant return.”

“If your intelligence reports are accurate, one wing of the Capitol is a burned-out hulk, and the dome has collapsed. Some celebration that will be.”

He grinned. “Then you’ll stand on the ruined steps, praise the courage of the New Aragon people, and vow to rebuild, bigger and grander than ever, with a memorial park for the war dead right in front.”

She pursed her lips and considered. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Duke Sandoval? Even the New Aragonians who are dying out there can be stacked up as a neat political platform.”

He frowned slightly. “You make me sound cold, Governor. We fight the best war we can fight, and nothing will bring back those who perish. I’m merely practical. Their sacrifice can be given additional meaning, if it helps to strengthen our Republic in its time of trouble.” He studied her face at the mention of The Republic. He saw no reaction; perhaps she wasn’t a loyalist after all. He thought perhaps that her first loyalty might be to herself. If so, that was good news. Greed and self-interest were readily exploited. He smiled.

“If I’ve learned anything in my years, it’s that any disaster, no matter how grim, can be given a political spin,” he said. “There are no defeats—only opportunities. There are no casualties—only fallen heroes.”

“I won’t be happy until I have my capital city back, no matter the condition that it’s in.” She studied the maps, her face showing a great deal more comprehension of the abstract symbols than he would have expected. She blinked, then looked up at him with a slight frown of puzzlement. “Couldn’t you have taken the city already? It seems that you have more than enough forces in place in the suburbs.”

He nodded. “But if I were to take the city, logically my first action would be to sweep up along the north-south arteries and take the spaceport.”

The frown deepened. “And? That seems like a good thing.”

“The spaceport is speeding their retreat. If I took it, the forces in the area would be cut off. They’d have to try to retake it and make a fighting retreat to another staging area, or House Liao would have to redeploy forces to support them.”

“Still, shouldn’t you then be able to crush them?”

“In theory, if everything went perfectly, I could wipe out a good part of their forces and put a dent in their aggressive advance across this part of space.”

“Again, this seems a good thing.”

“It’s a trap. Even if it wasn’t intentionally set, it’s just as easy to fall into. I have no reserves left to back up such an attack. None.” Or at least none that could be moved without leaving us critically vulnerable somewhere else. “If things didn’t go as planned, or if some of House Liao’s retreating forces doubled back to hold Argos, then this entire war could turn in the course of a few hours.” He looked into her eyes. “You do want your planet back, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened as she grasped the situation. “Of course I do. I’m sorry, Lord Governor, for questioning your judgment. Of course I’m grateful that you’ve come to our aid. With the Prefect injured—perhaps even dead—and our own forces overwhelmed, your unexpected arrival was little short of a miracle—one I’m not inclined to question. I’m just tired, and concerned about my people and my planet.”

And about getting your cushy office back as well, I’ll wager. Duke Sandoval smiled slightly and turned his attention back to the holotable.

She stood there for a moment. Then, realizing that he was quite through talking, she walked over to the railing where she could observe the holotable.

Aaron relaxed a bit. They were getting close to the issue of what would happen if the battle turned on them—something he didn’t want to get into with the Governor. That was, of course, the difference between her and him. This planet was everything to her. To Duke Aaron Sandoval, it was—it had to be—merely one strategically placed chess piece in a game that spanned light-years and many star systems.

Taking advantage of the chaos that had reigned since the collapse of the Hyperpulse Generator—the faster-than-light HPG interstellar communications network—House Liao forces had swept across the outskirts of The Republic, having taken nearly half of one Prefecture, and encroaching on a second. They had succeeded in conquering a handful of worlds and thrown countless others into panic and chaos. Sandoval’s game was not to protect any particular world, but to kill House Liao’s momentum, bloody their noses, and hope that forces could be rallied to stand against them.

New Aragon was simply the right world at the right spot on the stellar map: a place where the Duke’s limited forces would be enough to turn the tide of battle, and where winning that battle might be seen as having real importance. It was The Republic’s last remaining sizable military base in the region, the rest having fallen to the Liao invasion. Alone, unprepared, it was powerful enough to put up a good fight, but nothing more. Now, thanks to the Duke’s forces, the invaders were being repelled, and the base might now serve as a staging area for a counterattack.

The next twenty-four hours would be critical. By then, New Aragon would either have expelled the bulk of the invaders or would be facing another round of battle that could not be won.

If that reversal came, Aaron had little doubt as to what he would do. While he didn’t mind playing the role of gallant savior of New Aragon, the world was merely a pawn. And pawns were—regrettably for them—expendable.

To the Duke’s mind, such decisions weren’t cruel. Cruelty required malice, and he had none. He was simply concerned with the greater good of House Davion. If New Aragon could be saved and brought under their banner, so be it. Otherwise, it was simply an unfortunate circumstance and not his concern.

Justin Sortek, senior officer of the watch, looked up from his console. “Lord Governor, you asked to be informed when Commander Sandoval’s unit returned. They’ve just entered the bays, and Commander Sandoval is parking his ’Mech.”

He nodded and stood. “Very good, Major. I’ll be going down to debrief him. You have the watch for the moment. I’ll have my earset on in case you need to consult me.”

As Aaron stepped down from his platform, he passed near Sortek’s console and leaned close to his ear. “Make sure the Governor stays out of trouble while I’m gone. If the fighting heats up, have her escorted out. Any pretense will do.”