“And when,” she demanded angrily, “have I ever suggested to you that I would do that?”

“I—” he began, then closed his mouth with a click. Then he drew a deep breath and shook his head.

“I apologize,” he said quietly. “I know you’ve never suggested anything of the sort. It’s just…” He inhaled deeply again. “It’s just that we’ve come so far, Eloise. We’ve accomplished so much. If we go back to war with the Star Kingdom, we could lose all of that even if we win. I guess it just… scares me. Not for myself, but for the Republic.”

“I understand,” she said, equally quietly, and her eyes held his levelly. “But at the same time, Tom, I can’t simply ignore all of the other responsibilities of my job because discharging them might get us back into a war. Especially not when the Manties won’t let me end the war we’ve already got. So I have to know. If I make it clear to Descroix and High Ridge that we mean business, that I’m prepared to break off negotiations—which could be construed as renouncing the existing truce—will you and the Navy support me?”

A moment of tension hovered between them as they faced one another, the man who’d made the restoration of the Republic possible, and the woman who’d overseen that restoration. And then Thomas Theisman nodded.

“Of course we will, Madame President,” he said, and if his voice was sad, it was also unflinching. “That’s what a Constitution is for.”

Chapter Forty

SHANNON Foraker stood in Sovereign of Space’s boat bay once more and watched Lester Tourville’s cutter settle into the docking arms. This time, however, she wasn’t waiting for Thomas Theisman or Javier Giscard, as well. Theisman was back in Nouveau Paris… and Giscard stood beside her, behind Captain Reumann and Commander Lampert. She glanced sideways at the man who had become the second ranking officer of the Republican Navy and felt an undeniable pang of sorrow as she realized she was already an outsider in this boat bay.

The cutter finished docking, the pressure light blinked green, Tourville swung himself from the personnel tube into Sovereign of Space’s internal gravity, and the side party snapped to attention. Bosun’s pipes twittered, and the lieutenant at the side party’s head returned Tourville’s salute.

“Permission to come aboard?” Tourville requested formally.

“Permission granted, Sir,” the lieutenant replied, and stepped aside as Reumann moved forward to offer Tourville the traditional captain’s handshake of greeting. Giscard stepped forward with him; Foraker did not, because Reumann was no longer her flag captain.

“Welcome aboard, Lester.” Giscard greeted Tourville warmly, and the commander (designated) of Second Fleet smiled back at him.

“Thanks, Javier.” He shook Giscard’s hand, then looked past the other admiral and smiled at Foraker. “Hello, Shannon.”

“Sir.” She returned the greeting with an edge of formality which dismayed her when she recognized it. It wasn’t his fault, or Giscard’s. In fact, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. But as she looked at the two of them, she felt excluded, just as she’d felt when Theisman broke it to her that Sovereign of Space was about to become Giscard’s flagship, instead of hers.