Chapter 7

Bron slept poorly that night. He chose an empty office in City Hall, and leaning back in an office chair under a thin blanket was far from comfortable. Even if he had a real bed, there was too much on his mind, and when the shuttle convoy landed, well after midnight, he spent more than an hour watching their running lights and thruster glow descend from the star-filled sky. After that, the Sal-Dezir's strike module returned, its drives emitting a bass rumble that could be felt by the entire city, until it finally splashed down in New York Bay, and quieted. He had already made an attempt to get in contact with Vanessa, and only received a kind but brief reply from Lieutenant May that Vanessa wasn't able to speak to him yet, but that they would probably all be leaving the Sal-Dezir in the morning. Eventually Bron slouched back to the office chair and waited for dawn to arrive.

Later, at the Press Room, Bron smiled wearily as Mary tutted over the fresh suit that she had somehow found for him overnight, and then she thrust a comb in his hand so he could make an attempt to tame his tangled red hair.

"First the photo op, then a closed conference with President Abhram and General Edwards," Mary said, leading him towards the dais at the front of the room.

He shook hands with the president and general, while Aria and a handful of other reporters recorded the proceedings, and then Abhram made a brief statement of Manhattan's solidarity with the UEG, and praised the resilience of the city's citizens, who he was sure would soon rebuild the city to its former greatness. Bron had just enough time to talk with Aria before the start of the closed session.

"How is Will doing?"

"Sergeant Eckert is back on duty," Aria said. "His vision started returning right after you left. After the battle I took him to the hospital to have his hand looked at. He'll be fine."

"Good. We wouldn't have made it without him. And we also wouldn't have made it without your driving. Thank you."

"My pleasure. I'm glad you're well. I worried you might do something foolishly heroic when we last parted."

Bron blushed and looked away, ashamed. "There's nothing heroic about giving up. I came to my senses at the last second."

"And Commander Leeds has returned."

"Yes." He didn't even try to keep the grin off his face.

"A survivor twice over," Aria said with a faint smile. "Everyone is wondering what happened on the Sal-Dezir. The rumor is that York opened negotiations right after the ship flew across their border."

Bron promptly deflated. Too close, too close, he thought. How many times could Vanessa beat the odds?

"Inspector General!" Edwards called from the conference room door. He looked every inch the commanding general in his freshly pressed dress uniform, which he must have acquired aboard the Persephone.

"I have to go," Bron said regretfully.

"Until next time, Inspector General."

"I'm hardly likely to be in the public eye again," he said, smiling sheepishly. She arched an eyebrow at that.

"Life is rarely that simple."

"Acting Captain Vanessa Leeds, I have been ordered by Admiral Hayes to assume command of this vessel. I relieve you, ma'am."

The ventral docking bay of the Sal-Dezir was full to bursting with the battlepods that had survived the battle with York, all of them crowded around the perimeter of the compartment. The belly hatch was still open, and water lapped softly in a space bigger than a half dozen Olympic swimming pools, casting rippling reflections across the bulkheads. Straza was the last to boost her battlepod out of the water and climb from the dripping Glaug unit. Over two hundred pilots waited at attention, as well as May, Reyes, and the surviving senior officers. Vanessa personally hated the formality and spectacle after the suffering they had all been through, but she also understood the importance of the ceremony to the crew. This might be the last such ceremony before their ship was decommissioned and they were mustered out of the fleet, many of them to be micronized and leave military service forever. She owed them all this gesture of respect. Besides, just seeing Straza made her feel a little better.

"I stand relieved," Vanessa replied, loudly and clearly.

Straza directed her attention to the assembled crew. "Warriors of the Fleet," she announced in Zentraedi, "the victory is won! Rest and refresh yourselves. You are dismissed!"

"Ho!"

The salutes that the crew offered Straza eased a tiny bit more of the burden that Vanessa felt on her shoulders.

"Do you know what will happen now?" Vanessa asked as the pilots marched off to clean themselves up, eat, and sleep. May and Reyes departed as well, so that she could talk to Straza. As the pair left, Vanessa noticed they were already lost in each other's eyes.

"I won't be in command for long," Straza said. "The Sal-Dezir will be the first of the remaining fleet to be decommissioned. New York Harbor will receive a major boost from getting the task to break up the ship. The UN Spacy is going to offer a generous contract and assistance to refurbish and upgrade the harbor facilities. It'll mean a lot of jobs too. Some of the ship's crew will be offered work on the project."

"Will the crew be alright?"

"This will be a test of the process for disbanding the fleet. Minister Exedore is working with the UEG on an education and job placement program. The United Earth Forces has announced it will accept all Zentraedi volunteers for service in the Expeditionary Force, with consideration for prior rank and expertise. For those entering civilian life there will be additional incentives offered to those willing to undergo micronization."

Vanessa scowled at the mention of Exedore's name. "Micronization. It hardly seems fair after all they've sacrificed already."

"I admit I will miss this," Straza said, glancing at her arm and clenching one enormous fist, "but the UEG is encouraging micronization in accordance with the Total Integration plan wherever possible. I, of course, will be returning to the UN Spacy."

"I'm glad." Vanessa's smile was brief. "I'm sorry about all of the losses yesterday."

"I regret every one. But I do not feel like grieving. This is the most proud I have ever been of my people. When we fought against Dolza, it was an act of desperation. Yesterday was a choice."

"I just wish everyone had made the right choice," Vanessa said bitterly. Straza frowned.

"Gotta. I do grieve for those losses."

"Could we have stopped him? Before, I mean."

"I'm not sure. We both thought everyone was in agreement about how to stop York. We didn't know."

"Exedore knew," Vanessa said, venom choking her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"He knew it might happen. He left the responsibility to me before he left." They were alone- no one was bothering to service the battlepods, because the plan was to disarm and destroy them, and so Vanessa didn't bother to conceal her anger now.

"You feel he should have dealt with Gotta."

"Yes!"

Straza turned and put a hand on the damaged flank of her officer's pod. "Gotta's crew, the ones who stayed, were loyal to him. Exedore might not have been able to remove him. Even if Breetai himself had come here, there is no guarantee that he would have been obeyed. They couldn't afford to derail the relief operation right before it launched. But Exedore had you, your loyal crew, and Valkyries. He kept you in place as a safety measure, because he knew you would never stand aside and let Gotta do what he feared was being planned. He knew you would make the right choices. He made the decision as a leader."

"I thought he was wise. But he is also cruel."

Straza looked down at her sadly. "I have commanded legions, Vanessa. There are times that a leader must be cold and calculating, yes, even cruel. Even one acting in an entirely moral cause. I'm sure if you talked to Exedore, he would tell you how difficult a decision it was."

Vanessa shook her head. "No. I'd rather not see him again," she said flatly.

"Perhaps when you've had more time in command, you'll understand better."

It's far from certain that I'll command again, Vanessa thought. But she wasn't ready to say that. "We need to be getting to the upper deck airlock so we can meet the helicopter bringing Admiral Hayes."

Straza gave Vanessa a long, searching look, then seemed to reach a decision, and nodded to herself. "That's a long way for a micronian to go on foot," she noted. "Shall I carry you?"

Vanessa saw a mischievous twinkle in Straza's eyes. She looked within herself, and realized she wasn't afraid of Straza. She wasn't afraid of any of the Zentraedi. She had experienced terror in Gotta's presence, and horror at the bloodshed and violence around her the day before. But she could still feel magic, standing among giants. There was wonder to be found in Brobdingnag. She was able to smile up at Straza.

"Yes, thank you. So long as I don't have to hide inside your bandolier again."

The formalities of Admiral Hayse's arrival were rushed and awkward. When had a Terran admiral ever been received aboard an allied Zentraedi warship that had also somehow become a prize of war? But now it was just down to Lisa and Vanessa, seated across from each other in the empty tent. Vanessa inhaled deeply above her steaming mug of tea. Peppermint, from a small, precious canister Mary had given her as a gift the weekend before she left Earth. It had survived the journey to orbit and back in her tiny baggage allotment. Lisa took a slow sip from her own mug.

"Thank you for the tea, Vanessa. It's hard to find the real thing these days, unless you want to grow the peppermint yourself. Not exactly an option on the Factory Satellite."

"I'm happy to share," Vanessa said quietly, and waited for the questions to begin.

Lisa took one more sip and set the mug aside. Her intense green eyes locked on Vanessa. "You made several strongly worded statements the last time we spoke. You did so the last time we were together on the Factory Satellite as well. It's true, you've been through a lot this last year. It would be hard for anyone. But you're not alone in this. It's been difficult for everyone in the defense forces. I'm trying to understand what it is that you need, Vanessa."

Vanessa watched her friend closely. The calm, the control, the careful wording, all confirmed to her that her words the day before had hurt and angered her friend, but that Lisa was trying to keep those feelings hidden for Vanessa's own sake. She mustn't lash out like before, no matter how deeply her heart ached right now, no matter how stained she felt in her soul. Lisa deserved better. But she also needed to be honest. She owed that to herself. She took one more deep, calming breath, before she set her own mug aside.

"I need… I need to stop being sent into situations I'm not prepared for. I'm a trainee. If you don't count the veritech courses, I wasn't even a third of the way through the command training before all of this happened. I'm not ready for the level of responsibility that was asked of me." She paused. "And I'm not ready to deal with the fact that I can't trust the people who I'm supposed to depend on. Soldiers who I'm supposed to lead, follow… trust their word, trust their judgment, trust them to protect my life. I'm not prepared yet, Lisa."

Lisa smiled at her sadly. "Oh, Vanessa, you do have so much still to learn. But it's not the training. That will never end, and it is valuable, but it'll never be enough on its own."

"What do you mean it's not the training? I wasn't anywhere near prepared."

"How long have we known each other?"

Vanessa thought for a moment. Old Earth, before the war, seemed a lifetime ago. "Almost six years."

"And what was the first battle we fought in together?"

Vanessa frowned in confusion. "Launch Day."

"Yes. On Launch Day, I was a fully trained and commissioned senior lieutenant. Flight Direction Officer of the SDF-1. Now, do you think I felt prepared for what happened that day?" She didn't wait for Vanessa to answer. "Do you think I was prepared for an interstellar war with a vastly superior and unknown hostile fleet? Do you think I was prepared for the biggest air battle since World War Two? To direct not just the SDF-1's air group, but also the Prometheus's veritechs and coordinate with the space forces in orbit while they were being cut apart?"

"But you did well. We were lucky to have you."

"It was terrible. I was scared and overwhelmed. Those recon choppers I sent out to investigate when the Zentraedi dropships landed… I felt like I killed those crews. I sacrificed whole Valkyrie squadrons to keep the SDF-1 safe."

"That wasn't your fault though," Vanessa said. "I was there. You had to make those decisions."

Lisa looked away. "I know. But do you think I could ever have truly been prepared for it before it actually happened?" She met Vanessa's eye again. "Do you think Captain Gloval felt prepared to take an untested ship and untested crew to war? You remember. We weren't even sure the SDF-1 would fly. It almost didn't. What about being responsible for not just protecting, but housing and seeing to the wellbeing of fifty thousand civilians after being stranded billions of miles from Earth? And what about us? He was more than just a captain to us. Was he prepared to become like a father to a bridge full of young women who were equal parts frightened and strong-willed?"

Vanessa nodded, but she wasn't ready to concede the argument. "But you both were different. You just… handled it. You were always in control. We never knew if either of you had doubts. You're far more capable than me."

Lisa's lips thinned. "I tried my best, but you know that's not true. I wasn't prepared to lose everyone on the SDF-1. I wasn't prepared to be the admiral."

Vanessa felt a chill. She remembered that empty, dusty road on the way to Monument. The angry words, the hurt, and the self-doubt. Lisa honestly thought she had let everyone down, that the friends she had depended on and lost would have been disappointed in her. The burden of being a survivor belonged to her, too. Vanessa felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Lisa smiled gently. "I wouldn't have made it this far without you and Rick, and so many others. Do you understand now what I'm trying to tell you? You can't be prepared. No one could have prepared for the times we live in. But we have a duty to each other, and to the people we want to protect. It's not the lack of training you're struggling with, but the lack of experience, and there's only one way to get it. You may not have always realized it, but I've been following everything that you've done since you returned to duty last year. Our servicemen and women admire you, and believe in you, Vanessa. You're a leader, and I rely on you. Your judgment in a crisis is good. Very good. Even when we don't agree, I know I can trust you."

Vanessa wasn't comforted by those final words. Instead they hurt her like a blade twisted in her heart. "That's the problem, Lisa. I have to be able to trust the crew that I lead and the officers that command me. We've argued, but I do trust you. I trust Rick and the Sterlings, Straza, May, Reyes, our training cohort, many of the crew from Armor Seven. But I'm not sure who else I can trust now. I've been betrayed too many times. How can I be a good leader if I can't trust during the heat of battle?"

Lisa nodded. "That I can understand. By the time of the Rain of Death, I no longer trusted the United Earth Defense Council… not even my father, entirely, and that was an awful realization. I'm not blind to the fact that some members of my staff must have been complicit with York. However, rebuilding trust can be a surprisingly practical matter in a military organization."

"How do you mean?"

Lisa took out two small boxes. She opened one of them, revealing commander's rank pins. "After yesterday's events, quite a number of promotions are in order. It's time you moved up in grade to full commander. Straza too. It's a bit of a larger jump for her, but I think you'd agree that it's nonsense that an officer of her proven skill and experience should be a lowly lieutenant. I couldn't present her these pins earlier, for obvious reasons, but the promotions are official."

Vanessa shook her head, making no move to accept the pins. "I- I appreciate the gesture, but I don't see that this helps. More responsibility just makes the problem worse for me."

Lisa set aside the rank pins for the moment. "Then let me tell you what else I would like to do. As I said, trust is going to be a problem for all of us. So I'd like you to be part of the solution. I want you and Straza to play key roles in the investigation to track down and remove York's agents and sympathizers in our ranks. You'll also help select loyal officers to replace them."

Vanessa blanched. "But what about the training program? What about the new carriers and the pathfinder operation? I'm supposed to be XO of the Tokugawa when it launches in spring!"

"All of that has been put on hold, indefinitely." Lisa's voice was grim. "The UN Spacy has to put its ship in order. As you said, we've leaked information, Valkyries, even Reflex weaponry. Everything is called into question now. The Lightning project is frozen, and construction on all the new ships has been halted until the dockyard staff can be thoroughly vetted and all of the work can be checked for sabotage, rivet by rivet if necessary. The training program will have to wait. We'll need you and every one of your officers, because they're among the small number that we're free of doubts about."

"This is going to set the Pioneer Mission back by…"

"Years. And we must move swiftly and decisively, or the United Earth Government will move for us. There may even be calls for my own resignation, if the investigation shows I was negligent. Vanessa, I need you," she said softly. "I need your honesty, your courage, your fairness, even your anger, if we're going to rebuild Earth's fleet, and rebuild our soldiers' belief in one another."

Vanessa was quiet, and Lisa patiently let her consider. Everything Lisa told her today was true, but it didn't make her feel better. She felt worse, knowing how much recent events had devastated the REF and their mission. She wanted to set things right, and her sense of duty had only grown ever since she lost her safe bubble on the bridge of the SDF-1 and began to pay more attention to the world around her. But was she capable? She was not sure even the people who knew her best could understand how angry, how sad, how sick, how tired, how disgusted she felt. She still couldn't bring herself to tell Lisa about the blood and the horror of the previous day. She didn't know if she would ever feel clean again.

"If I'm to accept this promotion," Vanessa began slowly, "if I'm going to do what you're asking, I'm going to need help."

"You'll have it. You know I'll support you, and you'll have your pick of officers for your staff."

"Not… that kind of help." At last, she couldn't stop herself. She shut her eye and felt the warm tears running freely down her cheek. She didn't shake or sob, she just cried silently. It had always been this way. She could be steady and brave, speak her mind during a crisis, risk her life if need be, but afterward, there was always a cost. She heard a soft rustle as Lisa stood, and then her friend's hands were on her shoulders.

"Vanessa?"

The tears didn't stop for several minutes, and finally Lisa wiped them away with the handkerchief she always carried. Vanessa opened her eye and took Lisa's hands, almost shedding tears again at the compassionate look on the beautiful face before her.

"I need help, Lisa," she said in a tight, rasping voice.

"What do you need?" Lisa asked softly.

"Do you think Jean Grant might know someone I can talk to?" Vanessa asked haltingly. "Someone who can help me understand and deal with all of this?"

Lisa's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded. Lisa was close friends with Doctor Grant, and the doctor had earned Vanessa's friendship and trust through the care she received during her difficult recovery.

"Of course. I'm sure she knows the names of a few therapists who could help, and that can be discreet. You're sure about this?"

Vanessa frowned. The prejudices of the armed forces ran deep. The belief that a soldier must be tough enough to deal with the traumas of their service on their own, or over a quiet drink with a fellow veteran, was strongly held. The very act of seeking professional help was seen as a sign of unfitness by many. The war had made the situation even more difficult. The pressure was greater, the circumstances unprecedented in human history, and very few specialists with experience assisting veterans survived the Rain of Death.

Vanessa took a deep breath and released it. "Yes, Lisa. And if I'm not going to be respected by my peers for getting the help I feel I need, then I don't belong here."

To her surprise, Lisa actually smiled at that. "I think you're going to be alright, if you can be defiant even about this. But you may be right. Maybe we should all have gotten that kind of help after the Rain of Death… after the SDF-1. If it had been possible." She lifted one hand to smooth out Vanessa's hair fondly, then stood. "You'd better get ready. It'll be time to leave soon."

"What happens next?" Vanessa asked, turning her head to cover her blush.

"I'm standing down all of you except Straza. You'll go to Manhattan. We found a hotel to put you all up in until we decide whether to base the investigation in Monument or on the Factory Satellite."

"You're not going to have us just lounge around the hotel, are you? Surely there's something that needs doing?"

Lisa's smile widened as she shook her head. "Plenty, but not by you. Not yet. Take some time to sleep in a proper bed and enjoy the amenities. I'm sure Bron will be thrilled to finally see you again."

Vanessa's answering smile was fragile. "Right. Bron."

"Now, let's get back to the security agreement," General Edwards said, pulling a sheaf of papers from his valise. "My staff back in Monument have sent over these documents for you to sign, Mister President. The Army of the Southern Cross will establish a permanent garrison around Manhattan. Veritechs, destroids, air defenses. Everything you needed before yesterday and didn't have." He flashed President Abhram a winning smile. "Manhattan will never be threatened again."

Abhram reached across the conference table and accepted the papers stiffly. "I will certainly look over your proposal, but I can't sign any such agreement yet. Please understand, I'm grateful for all the sacrifices you made yesterday. I will never forget how you and your pilots stood beside us. But I must consult my officials and my people."

Edwards's smile remained friendly, although his single eye narrowed. He tilted his head so that his metal faceplate was angled more prominently toward the President. "Come now, Mister President, is this really the time to delay securing Manhattan's safety and future? York has been brought to heel, but there are other independent powers with their own ambitions. The Eastern Bloc, for one. The miracle of the Zentraedi won't be repeated- they're on their way out. Nobody else stood up for you. It's the United Earth Government, or no one."

Bron, who had remained silent on the topic so far out of respect for both men, decided it was time to step in. "General, I know you're very committed to protecting the people of Manhattan, but I'm sure there's time for the President's staff to look over the paperwork. We've done well today, and it's getting late. I think this is a good time to recess until tomorrow."

"Agreed," Abhram said, standing, and everyone rose with him. "The immediate aid supplies, the harbor project, the loans, and the pledge of assistance from the Robotech Engineers Corps will ensure a strong foundation for us to rebuild from. Thank you, both, gentlemen." He shook their hands firmly.

"Good night, Mister President," Bron said, smiling.

"Until, tomorrow, Mister President." Edwards's expression might have been a grin or a sneer. The door shut, and Bron was alone with the general. Edwards's face settled into a scowl.

"I don't understand why you're coddling the Manhattanites so much, Inspector General. The sooner the city is inducted into the UEG, the better. We may have won, but everyone knows it was a damned close run thing, and that we're going to have to clean house in the space forces as well. We need to show that we're strong, and on the rise."

"I do understand that, but it's important we don't rush them into this."

"We can't let this opportunity slip through our fingers."

"It's not going to." Bron settled back into his chair with a sigh. They had begun the session at dawn, and it was now dusk. "They're going to join the UEG."

"You can't know that. Not unless we push it through," Edwards said harshly, dropping back into his own chair.

"What else can they do, General? You've seen the city. Half of it is in ruins. Robotech weaponry is… devastating. Who else has the resources to help them rebuild? They're going to join us because they'll see they have no other choice, not because we're going to bully them into it. The most important thing now is to do it the right way. We need to welcome them and show them respect, so that they're happy to join the UEG, not create resentment that will last a generation or more."

Edwards folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Spoken like a politician."

Bron smiled in disbelief. "I didn't think anyone would ever mistake me for that… you don't like me, do you General?"

Edwards jerked his head back around to look at Bron, and he frowned. "Hell, I like you just fine. You showed real steel out there yesterday, I underestimated you before." He snorted. "It's just you've spent all of today getting in my damned way."

"I'm not trying to. But they're giving up their independence. We need to let them keep their dignity."

"What use is dignity after the Apocalypse?" Edwards asked scornfully.

Bron thought back through the last three years since the defeat of the Grand Fleet. He and his brothers had spent the first two years adrift. Their former crewmates were dead or scattered, Vanessa, Kim, and Sammie were distracted, and Bron had never really admitted to Vanessa that there were times he, Rico, and Konda had been too ashamed of their circumstances to reach out to the group of women they were so attracted to. Their new world was confusing, their jobs were menial, and their lives were bleak. Many times they experienced the hatred or contempt native-born Terrans held for them. Yet, somehow the three of them had endured, and not given in to the anger or despair that led far too many other Zentraedi to first wander off into the wastelands, and eventually to join Khyron's band of renegades.

"Sometimes," Bron said gravely, "dignity is all you're left with, and without it, how can you ever imagine rebuilding your life?"

Edwards stared at Bron and finally shrugged. "Fine. I'll play nice. But I'm bringing up the security agreement again tomorrow. My plan is solid."

"I don't have a problem with that. Just give Abhram time to read the papers before you put the pen in his hand."

Edwards scoffed at that, but didn't argue further. He stood up, stretching. "Tonight I'm having a gathering with my Ghosts- the ones that aren't in the hospital or out on patrol. Why don't you join us? After standing on the firing line with your troops from the Sal-Dezir yesterday, I don't think my boys and girls would mind having an alien in the group."

Bron blushed, both at the invitation and the 'alien' comment. "Oh, uh, thank you, but actually-"

"Hold on," Edwards interrupted and walked to the door. "Benson!" he called, poking his head out of the room. "Where's a decent place we can get drinks around here?" Bron couldn't quite hear the other officer's murmured answer. "Oh are they?" Edwards chuckled. "Alright, sounds good. I'll get changed out of this uniform and meet you all over there." He turned back to Bron and was grinning again.

"We're heading over to the bar at the Beekman Hotel. Turns out your lady friend and her unit are staying over there."

"My lady fr- Vanessa? You know about us?"

The general lowered his head and he drew two fingers down the side of his faceplate in what looked like a habitual gesture of exasperation.

"You do realize that you're two of the most well-known people in the world, right?"

"Oh."

The grin returned. "Well, go on then! Maybe we'll have those drinks some other time."

"Right, uh, thank you, General." Vee! You're so close!

"I'll see you tomorrow, Inspector."

Bron left the conference room in an excited daze, but no sooner had made it into the hall, than he saw Mary approach briskly.

"Bron! Sorry, I know you'd probably like to get out of here, but I have Speaker Torres's chief of staff waiting for you on a remote line. The Speaker wants to talk with you. And…" she paused. "There's something I need to talk to you about before you take the call."

Bron's heart sank again. Even with the battle won and Vanessa miraculously returned, the world seemed determined to stand in the way of their reunion.

"Very good, Inspector General. That's an encouraging report." Torres seemed genuinely pleased by the progress made with Manhattan that day.

"What about York?" Bron asked.

"Every time I can get General Olivander to stop blustering for a few minutes, we move a little bit further forward."

"They aren't going to get away with it, are they? Will he and the other leaders be punished for all they did to Manhattan and the Zentraedi?"

"The ones that are still alive to be put on trial will be," Torres said, with a smile that was pure schadenfreude. "We have very few sources of information inside York, but as far as we can tell, the junior officers, with the backing of the enlisted soldiers, are having their own little revolution right now. Most of the Command Council have been deprived of rank- and their lives."

"So York will disarm?"

"York will join the UEG. Maybe not in name, but we'll have a treaty in place that will open their borders, set up favorable trade agreements, and require payments to rebuild Manhattan and contribute to Earth's defense. Our troops will be allowed to enter their territory, and their own remaining military forces will be obligated to annual service with the UEF, under our supervision.

"They'll really agree to this?"

"They're terrified. Their leaders have spent years feeding the population propaganda about this 'Second Rain of Death' idea, and they really believed it. Now that something similar almost happened, they've realized that the rest of the propaganda, about the 'all-powerful army of York' is a lie, and they're desperate to get any kind of deal that they think will save their skins. It's only their bruised egos slowing down the talks at this point," Torres added, rolling her eyes.

"Good. I guess the negotiations won't take so long for York or Manhattan then."

"Which is the other reason I wanted to speak to you. It's time to be planning for your future position in our government."

Bron's brow furrowed. "What future position?" He glanced over to the side of the room, where Mary sat out of view, just as she had during the last conference before York's invasion. Except this time, she was watching with her cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. "I'm done after the negotiations, right?"

Torres folded her arms. "The situation has changed, Inspector General. We had our disagreements, but in the public eye, at least, your actions have been strongly vindicated."

"I'm glad that we stopped York, but honestly, I'd hoped to avoid all of this fighting. I didn't really-"

"You're a hero, Mister Nantes," Torres interrupted, impatience leaking into her voice. "You, Edwards, Hunter, Pentiet, and Lacroix are the heroes of the Battle of Manhattan. Your statements the day before the battle, and the footage of you sailing out into the harbor, all provided by the inimitable Aria Stockton, are being rebroadcast several times every hour, world-wide." There was a note of sourness in her tone when she mentioned Aria.

Bron suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable. "What I did wasn't that special."

"Regardless of what you may think, my party's leadership has made it clear to me that allowing you to leave public service would be a grave mistake. I'm prepared to offer you deputy directorship of the Ministry of Zentraedi Affairs. Possibly full directorship after the next election."

Bron's eyes widened. He looked again at Mary, who unlike him, did not seem at all surprised by the offer. She smiled at him and made a vague gesture that he read as 'that's really up to you.' He looked back to Torres, who was waiting expectantly.

"Thank you… but I'm sorry. I can't accept."

"You can't?" She looked offended.

"It just wouldn't be right for me to-"

Torres held up a hand imperiously. "Very well, there's no need to dissemble. If you must insist on a full directorship immediately, I can arrange it. And of course, Miss Brennan's and Mister Dosel's positions at the ministry are secure. We'll even overlook their relationship."

"I - no, that's not what I mean!" Bron felt his face reddening, and Mary was covering her mouth to stifle her laughter, which only made it worse. "I'm trying to say that I think you were right the other day."

"Excuse me?" Bron had never seen the look of wide-eyed startlement on the Speaker's face before.

"Not about my giving that interview to Aria to change public opinion. I mean you're right that I shouldn't work for you after going around you and undermining your authority. You're a good person. You deserve to have people working for you that will serve you loyally. If I can't be certain I'll always do that, it would be wrong for me to take the job you're offering. You should give the deputy directorship to Konda. He's worked harder than anyone else for the ministry and the Zentraedi, he just does it behind the scenes."

If anything, Torres looked even more astonished. Another quick peek at Mary revealed an approving look on her face.

"Well," Torres said slowly, "a man of integrity after all." She smiled wryly. "The Central Committee won't be happy to lose you. They'll probably blame me. I do think I may take your advice regarding Mister Bromco and the directorship of MZA. If I can't convince you to stay, may I ask what you intend to do?"

Bron swallowed, and worked up his courage. "Monument city's seat on the UEG Assembly is coming up for re-election. I think it might be time for the Assembly to have at least one Zentraedi senator."

"I think I would agree with you," Torres said, raising her eyebrows. "I do hope you don't plan to run for election on the opposition's ballot."

"Not if you'll have me, Madam Speaker."

"Milena. If we're to be colleagues, you should call me Milena."

"Uh, well, thank you, Milena. You can call me Bron."

"We'll have much to discuss in the months ahead, Bron. Good night, and good luck tomorrow."

"You too."

The screen blanked, and Bron swiveled his chair toward Mary, fanning himself with one hand.

"Well done, Bron!" Mary said, wearing a satisfied grin.

"It was your idea. I can only do this with your help."

"You might be surprised by what you're capable of. But don't worry, I'm not going to turn down the chance to be your chief of staff."

"Good. You're sure Rico will be ok too?"

"Like I told you, MBS has offered for him to host a talk show. I think he'll do very well with both the Terran and Zentraedi demographics. And I think I can guess who one of his first guests will be," Mary added smugly.

"Who?"

"You, silly lad!" she laughed, and patted his cheek.

"Ah."

"I would've thought you'd be happier about how everything is turning out."

"I am, it's just… do you know how I can get to the Beekman Hotel?"

"Why do you - ah..." Mary's expression softened. "I'm sure I can find out."

Next chapter… emojis from orbit, hands interlace, and wounded hearts…