“And the reformation of the Sovereign election process?” Romulus asks. “She was never meant to be an empress. She’s an elected official.”
“She will revise the election process after the new Senators have been appointed. Additionally, the Olympic Knights will be appointed by the vote of the ArchGovernors, not by order of the Sovereign, as you requested.”
Mustang tilts her head back and laughs one hard note. “I’m sorry. Call me skeptical. But what you’re saying, Roque, is that the Sovereign will say yes to everything Romulus might want until she’s back in a position to say no.” She blows air out of her nose comically. “Trust me, my friends, my family well knows the sting of the Sovereign’s promises.”
“And what of Antonia au Julii?” Romulus asks, noting Mustang’s skepticism. “Will you deliver her to our justice for the murder of my daughter and father?”
“I will.”
Romulus is pleased by the terms, and moved by Roque’s comments about the Red menace. It doesn’t help that his promises seem very plausible. Practical. Not promising too much or too little. All I can do to combat them is to embrace the fact that I offer them a fantasy, and a dangerous one at that. Romulus looks to me, waiting.
“Color notwithstanding, you and I have a common bond. The Sovereign is a politician, I am a man of the sword. I deal in angles and metal. Like you. That is my life blood. My entire purpose for being. Look how I rose in your ranks without being one of you. Look how I took Mars. The most successful Iron Rain in centuries.” I lean forward. “Lords, I will give you the independence you deserve. Not half measured. Not transient. Permanent independence from Luna. No taxes. No twenty years of service to the Core for your Grays and Obsidians. No orders from the Babylon that the Core has become.”
“A bold promise,” Romulus says, showing the depth of his character by bearing the insult he must feel at a Red promising to deliver him his independence.
“An outlandish promise,” Roque says. “Darrow is only who he is because of who is around him.”
“Agreed,” Mustang says cheerily.
“And I still have everyone around me, Roque. Who do you have?”
“No one,” Mustang answers. “Just dear old Antonia, who has become my brother’s quisling.”
The words hit home with Roque and Romulus. I return to addressing the Moon Lords. “You have the greatest dockyard the worlds have ever seen. But you started your war too quickly. Without enough ships. Without enough fuel. Thinking the Sovereign would not be able to send a fleet here so quickly. You were wrong. But the Sovereign has made a mistake as well: all her remaining fleets are in the Core, defending moons and worlds against Orion. But Orion is not in the Core. She is with me. Her forces joined to the ships I stole from the Jackal to form the armada with which I will smash the Sword Armada from the sky.”
“You don’t have the ships for that,” Roque says.
“You don’t know what I have,” I say. “And you don’t know where I hide it.”
“How many ships does he have?” Romulus asks Mustang.
“Enough.”
“Roque would have you believe I am a wildfire. Do I look wild?” Not today, at least. “Romulus, you have no interest in the Core just as I have no interest in the Rim. This is not my home. We are not enemies. My war is not against your race, but against the rulers of my home. Help us shatter the Sword Armada, and you will have your independence. Two birds with one stone. Even if I do not defeat the Sovereign in the Core after we defeat the Poet here, even if I lose within the year, we will cause such damage that it will be a lifetime before Octavia can summon the ships, the money, the men, the commanders to cross the billion kilometers darkness again.” The Moon Lords lean into my words. I may yet have them.
Roque scoffs. “Do you really think this self-styled liberator will abandon the lowColors in the Rim? In the Galilean Moons alone over a hundred and fifty million are ‘enslaved.’ ”
“If I could free them, I would,” I admit. “But I cannot. I recognize that and it breaks my heart, because they are my people. But every leader must sacrifice.”
This receives nods from the Golds. Even if I am the enemy, they can respect my loyalty to my people, and also the pain I must feel. It is odd having such veneration in the eyes of my enemies. I am not used to it.
Roque also sees the nods. “I know this man better than any of you,” he presses. “I know him like a brother. And he is a liar. He would say whatever it took to break the bonds that bind us together.”
“Unlike the Sovereign, who never lies,” I say lightly, drawing a few laughs.
“The Sovereign will honor her agreement,” Roque insists.
“As she did with my father?” Mustang asks scathingly. “When she planned to kill him at the Gala last year? I was her lancer and she planned it right under my nose. And why? Because he did not agree with her politics. Imagine what she’d do to men who actually went to war with her.”
“Hear, hear,” the ArchGovernor of Titan says, rapping his knuckles on the table.
“And instead you would trust a terrorist and a turncoat?” Roque asks. “He has conspired to destroy our Society for six years. His entire existence is deception. How could you trust him now? How could you think a Red cares more for you than a Gold?” Roque shakes his head sadly. “We are Aureate, my brothers and sisters. We are the order that protects mankind. Before us was a race intent on destroying the only home it had ever known. But then we brought peace. Do not let Darrow manipulate you into bringing back the Dark Age that came before. They will purge all the wonders we have made to fill their bellies and sate their lusts. We have a chance to stop him here, now. We have a chance to unite once more, as we were always meant to. For our children. What world do you want them to inherit?”
Roque puts a hand over his heart.
“I am a Man of Mars. I have no love for the Core any more than you. The appetites of Luna have pillaged my planet long before I was born. That must change. And it will change. But not at the end of his sword. He would burn the house to fix a broken window. No, friends, that is not the way. To change for the better, we must look past the politics of the day and remember the spirit of our Golden Age. Aureate, united over all.”
The longer this plays, the more likely Roque will convince them of their patriotism. Mustang and I both know it. Just as I knew I would have to sacrifice something in coming here. I’d hoped it would not be what I’m about to offer, but I know by the looks in the eyes of the Moon Lords that Roque’s message has struck home. They fear an uprising. They fear me.