“Ulysses, see what you can do about lining up some press-secretary candidates while we’re here. Quietly and discreetly, as always.”
“Certainly, Lord Governor. Assuming you survive the press conference.” He gestured at the door. “Shall we get this over with?”
Aaron grinned and they stepped out through the incongruously conventional-looking wood-paneled door, Paxton leading the way. Cameras turned toward him like fame-seeking missiles.
In the near distance, he could see the glass walls of the terminal building filled with curious onlookers. He waved. Amazingly, people surged forward. Children waved back. Most of them probably had not a clue who he was, but they wanted to know!
This is going to work. In my hand, this sword will win my war.
Paxton stepped up to the podium. “I present to you Duke Aaron Sandoval, Lord Governor of Prefecture IV.”
Aaron made a show of surveying the assembled crowd. He worked on projecting the impression that he cared about them, each and every one, as individuals. He had to reach them so that, by the time he brought his proposal to the Governor, to refuse it would seem like a betrayal to his people.
“People of Ningpo, I bring you greetings from Tikonov, the SwordSworn, and House Davion.” There was a murmur among the assembled as he said “SwordSworn,” which became much louder as he said “House Davion.” “I have come to your world with important matters to discuss with your Governor. I should not detail those matters until he and I have had time to discuss them privately.
“I will say, however, that I stand before you today to extend a hand of friendship and cooperation in a time of confusion and fear. The universe has been plunged into darkness, and there is much disorder and uncertainty. But I have come to tell you that there is still strength and stability in the stars—that there is still a sword that stands against aggression and tyranny.
“I have said we are SwordSworn, and this may puzzle some of you, anger you, even frighten you. You may wonder why I invoke the name of House Davion rather than that of The Republic. I remind you that I have served The Republic loyally for many years, and in many capacities, most recently as Lord Governor of Prefecture IV. I do not renounce this, nor do I regard those years with anything but pride.
“But our universe has changed, and—as the incursion of House Liao has shown us—without the HPG network, The Republic no longer serves us, no longer can keep us safe or free. In the current situation, the universe is too vast to maintain order. Terra is too distant to aid us. Even the regional governments are failing. My Prefecture remains strong, but to my great sadness, Prefecture VI has bowed to the Capellan aggressors, and sold out their people to the enemy. Your own Prefecture has known war, border raids, and uprisings at the best of times, and now stands on the brink of disaster.
“I have spoken with your current Lord Governor, and he has confessed his inability to keep the peace or to protect his worlds.” There was much whispering among the reporters. “You have heard the rumors, and they are true. Your leaders are weak. They have not betrayed you, but they have certainly, by their own admission, failed you. You know it to be so.
“During this emergency, we must seek present and immediate solutions for order and protection; for those solutions to have strength and longevity, we must turn back to the Great Houses.
“This is not betrayal. This is not treason. The Republic that I served, that we all served, has failed. It may succeed again someday, but first we must have order, we must have peace, we must have freedom from tyranny. I remind you that The Republic was built from worlds ceded by the Great Houses, and if order and communications are restored, that may happen again.
“But for now, we must choose what banner we follow, and we must not let history choose for us. I have chosen to pledge my SwordSworn to House Davion, not merely because it is the house of my forefathers, but because of its traditions of honor, integrity, and justice.
“The SwordSworn are strong, and we stand against the aggression of our common enemies. We stand between you and the tyranny and harsh rule you know you would suffer under the Capellans.
“We are strong. But together with your freely given aid, we could be stronger. I extend the hand of friendship, and the pledge to join you in our common defense. I pray that you will see the wisdom in taking that hand, before the freedom to choose is lost to House Liao aggression.”
He paused, again scanning the assembled press. “I will now take a few questions.” Hands rose, reporters called to him. He picked a woman whom his intelligence report told him worked for a major Tri-Vid network—one likely to value the appearance of objectivity. She might ask a difficult question, but she was unlikely to go on the offensive immediately.
She stood. “Lord Governor. Nina Wu, Interworld. What do you say to the recent rumors of your death?”
He tried to look mildly shocked. “Well, Nina, first just let me say that, to the best of my knowledge… those rumors are false.”
There was laughter, and the mood suddenly seemed to relax a bit.
Aaron allowed himself a smile—not at the joke, but at the question. That it hadn’t been about The Republic or the possibility of treason was telling. These people already had fundamental doubts about The Republic and their own Prefecture. He was only addressing their preexisting concerns.
Once the laughter died, he suppressed the smile, replacing it with a look of concern. He continued. “But in all seriousness, an attempt was made on my life—a cowardly act of sabotage, done in the name of House Liao. I survived only through the heroic actions of Captain Gus Clancy of the DropShip Tyrannos Rex. and especially those of my bodyguard and security chief, Mr. Ulysses Paxton.” Aaron turned and bowed his head toward Paxton.
Paxton smiled slightly, and Aaron held his bow for several beats. Let the cameras linger on Ulysses. Everyone loves a hero.
Then Aaron turned back to the crowd. “I speak from personal experience when I say that safety is an illusion. Peace is fragile and easily broken by men and women of ill will. Kiss your spouses, hug your children as though it were your last day, because you never know if it might be.”
He called on a young male reporter from a computer news service. “Lord Governor; Paul Yi of Uni-Page. There are rumors that you’ve changed your ship into some sort of luxurious flying palace. Comments?”
“Thank you for asking, Paul. I have indeed turned this fine ship into a flying home for myself and my staff. And if you mean ‘palace’ as in ‘seat of government,’ then yes, that’s what it is. With the fall of the HPG network, it is no longer practical to govern from a fixed capital. Not on far Terra, not even on Tikonov or Liao or New Canton.
“Tikonov is my place of birth, and my heart will always live there, but it would be both foolish and selfish for me to insist on living there. I have responsibilities to a growing family of worlds, not just one. So I have given up my home there to live in this home among the stars, to go where there is trouble. I want those under my protection to know that their home soil is also my home soil—that I care as deeply for their worlds as they do. With this great ship, I can go where the people need me, and do for them what must be done.”
He scanned the faces of the reporters. Time to take a hard one.
He recognized a face from his intelligence photos, and pointed at a balding man sitting near the back. “Duke Sandoval, Van Harding of Truth Magazine. You ask us to take the drastic step of abandoning The Republic, to trust you, and you suggest that you are only a servant of the people. Yet your ship is named Tyrannos Rex. Are you our friend, or just a would-be tyrant king?”