His weapons officer shot two jazer blasts powerful enough to wound a battleship. The glare flashed across space. Both fleeing vessels were vaporized, spreading out in a smear of molten metal.

Gasping, Tasia could not restrain herself. She grabbed the comm console. "Fitzpatrick, that was completely unnecessary! How can you justify-"

He cut her off with a sneer. "Somebody'sforgetting that we're at war."

Admiral Willis transmitted from the flagship: "Enough, both of you. Commander Fitzpatrick performed within the somewhat loose operating parameters I gave him. Next time, however, I won't leave quite so much wiggle room." Then she sighed. "Still, I think the colonists got the point. Good work, everyone."

Tasia clenched her fists, her knuckles white. Just who was the real enemy in this war, anyway? The EDF ships settled back into their stranglehold, not knowing how much longer the siege would continue.

19

KING PETER

Peter began to wonder if there could be such a thing as a "minor defeat." As he stepped out onto the balcony under the sunlight of Earth, the King wore a somber blue-and-gray outfit trimmed with silver. Another duty, a terrible one that was all too familiar in recent years.

Crowds gathered in the square, a sea of people spread out with pale faces upturned. But there were no roaring cheers. Not today. Down below, in front of the Whisper Palace's grand square, the grandfatherly Archfather of Unison had already led the people in a long, solemn prayer. As soon as he was finished, the figurehead leader of the official religion would step back and let the King complete the political formalities.

Peter took slow steps, keeping his eyes on the crowd, showing them that he shared their grief. He heard the expectant indrawn breath as he walked to the ornate balustrade at the edge of the balcony. The thick roll of black crepe waited there like a body wrapped in a shroud.

"I've done this far too many times," he said quietly. Only the Chairman-waiting out of sight inside the Palace-could hear him.

"And you'll probably have to do it many more times, but the people need to see how much you care. Look at the bright side: Each disaster creates more heroes, and heroes help us to focus our fight."

Peter responded with a bitter laugh. "If we have so many heroes, Basil, then the hydrogues have no chance of winning this war."

At the edge of the balcony, he switched on his voice amplifier and spoke to the attentive audience. "Not long ago, a military survey team and a tactical squadron investigated the gas giant Dasra, where we know the hydrogues live. Our team came in peace. They attempted once again to contact our enemies and end this war."

He waited a beat, and the crowd drew in a breath. "The hydrogue response was brutal and unforgiving. They destroyed every one of our scouts, murdering three hundred and eighteen innocent humans."

As the crowd murmured, Peter tugged the ribbon holding the black crepe banner. "This is to commemorate those we recently lost at Dasra, to show that we will not forget them or what they attempted to do for the human race." Woven with fiber lubricants and antiwrinkling agents, the streamer rolled down the side of the Whisper Palace, dropping like a long black tear.