“All the jobs I’ve ever had have been in quick succession over the past few weeks,” Tennal said. He added warily, “I’m not a natural fit for publicity. Even my aunt’s election team said so. Something about how my face looks on-screen.”

“Oh, you should reconsider that,” Oma said. “This one’s just about to go out, as a matter of fact.”

She gestured for a vid to start.

Tennal was used to news bulletins and political comms blasts. When he and Zin had grown up with his aunt, they’d been everywhere: feeds in her office, playing in the background at the dinner table, hovering around her as she walked out the door. Tennal was used to his aunt’s face appearing on billboards or on the newslogs at school. He knew what government comms looked like.

This one started off the same as all the propaganda he’d seen. The Archer emblem. Majestic external shots of the station, its discs rotating slowly. Then the main reel: the shots switched to troop ships, and the voice-over announced, reassuringly, “Archer Station prepares for a robust defense against recent Cavalry escalations…”

“What Cavalry escalations?” Tennal said. “You didn’t mention those.”

“Didn’t I?” Oma said. “Well, they haven’t happened quite yet. But it won’t be long. Your aunt is arriving tomorrow.”

“For a meeting, you said,” Tennal said. “Surely not with a fleet.”

“I would be surprised if a fleet weren’t following.”

Tennal’s mouth opened to say, That would be civil war. But before he could, the vid took on a new tone.

It showed sound bites from Oma, talking seriously at the camera about the need for calm. There were stock shots of Cavalry ships around Orshan’s orbital stations. Upbeat interviews with the district leads.

And then Tennal himself walked on-screen.

He recognized the residential streets in the background under the domed sky. Yes, we’re all ready, Tennal said brightly, in response to an unheard question. Keen to get started.

That had been one of Surit’s shrine-opening ceremonies. Tennal remembered being impatient with the local reporter, trying to brush them off. The Tennal on-screen looked amused and remote. The subtitle said Captain Tennalhin Halkana, previously Cavalry Division. There was an inset picture of the legislator, just in case you’d forgotten whom Tennal was related to.

“Not subtle,” Tennal managed. His own face was still on-screen. The superior look on it was absolutely insufferable. He wanted to punch himself.

“Did it have to be?” Oma said.

“I was talking about reopening a shrine,” Tennal said. “Not fighting Cavalry.”

The vid merged into more quick shots: Tennal at a factory plant Oma had asked him to visit. Tennal seriously talking to a group of staff. Tennal behind Oma as she gave a news conference. And Tennal realized she had nearly two weeks of footage to work from.