“The Star Empire of Manticore therefore formally demands that you immediately dispatch to the Manticore Binary System via the Beowulf Terminus of the Junction an officer with sufficient authority to order Fleet Admiral Filareta to stand down. Assuming press reports of this operation’s timing are as accurate as I have reason to believe they are, there’s still time—if only barely—for those orders to reach Manticore before Fleet Admiral Filareta. We cannot order him to disregard orders he was given by lawful superiors; you can. If you decline to do so, the responsibility for whatever happens will lie squarely on your shoulders, and the Star Empire will be prepared to produce copies of my correspondence with you, in its entirety, in any future dispute over who bears responsibility for any consequences of your most recent unilateral aggression against a sovereign star nation. Moreover, under the circumstances, Her Majesty’s Government will not consider itself bound to maintain the confidentiality of our correspondence where the press is concerned.”

He paused, obviously giving that last sentence time to sink in, then continued in the same flat, uncompromising tone.

“It’s not yet too late to prevent a disaster of staggering dimensions. We will do all we can to minimize the catastrophic consequences of this confrontation. We invite you—we implore you, in the name of your own military personnel—to stop this now. If you decline this opportunity, if you refuse to act, be certain history will know exactly where to assign the blood guilt for the massacre which will most certainly ensue.”

I suppose that’s about as blunt as it comes, Kolokoltsov thought, and shook his head. Even now, he couldn’t quite believe anyone would address the Solarian League like that. Despite everything—despite Crandall’s devastating defeat, despite the Manties’ provocative closure of wormhole bridges and junctions—he still couldn’t quite believe it deep down inside.

Which is stupid of me. If I haven’t figured out anything else by now, I should at least have realized that whatever else Manties may be, they sure as hell aren’t impressed by the League’s reputation! Not anymore. It may be ultimately suicidal, given the difference in our resources and populations, but that doesn’t change the way they feel.

Of course, even if they were actually terrified, they’d be sending him exactly this sort of correspondence. Diplomatic threats cost nothing, and the temptation to run a bluff, to convince Kolokoltsov they could do to Filareta what they’d done to Crandall—especially if they really couldn’t—had to be overwhelming. If they could frighten him into calling Filareta off, they ran the table without having to fire a single missile. Which would also just happen to save them if they didn’t have any missiles left to fire.