As a single force, the Marble Armada had the strength to overrun the Generality. Not even the combined forces of the Multiplicity would be able to field a fleet of comparable strength. Custodianship of the armada would be a heavy responsibility—and it was a responsibility that was currently weighing on my battered and damaged shoulders. With the Hearthers gone, the white ships looked to me for guidance. They intuited my devotion to the House, and it became their devotion. They saw my abhorrence of war, and it tallied with their own concerns. Acts of destruction, such as the ones I had perpetrated at Pelapatarn, would never be allowed to happen again—and that restriction wouldn’t apply only to humans. I didn’t know how many settled systems there were in the Multiplicity, but I was willing to bet that a million ships would be enough to establish a presence in most, if not all of them. War between factions and species would no longer be the first resort. There would be a new order throughout the galaxy—an order of peace and diplomacy rather than a hawkish reliance on military strength.

Lives would be saved. Ships in distress would be rescued, irrespective of their race, nationality or species. And peace would be enforced under pain of death.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, and I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of ushering in a police state, but I had little choice. I’d struck a bargain to save my skin. If it staved off another conflict on the scale of the Archipelago War, it might be worth it.

At least, until we came up with a better solution.

In the meantime, we would all have to learn to adjust our behaviour and re-examine our priorities—just as Captain Konstanz was having to assess and come to terms with her own actions.

It can be hard to live with the knowledge that you have deliberately taken a life. And I say that as a former warship, designed to kill with as little remorse as possible.