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additional Carrier. The vessels that are partially constructed on Bercilak and Nede-Mum aren’t far enough along, no matter what we do, to get them operational in the next nine days. The one on Bercilak is nothing more than a steel frame. The two on Nede-Mum have no power or guidance systems installed. They would just take up space in the battle and get in the way of ships that can actually fight.”
    “What are the current numbers?” Morgan asked.
    Without needing to explain what she meant, Westmoreland said, “They have two hundred and sixteen Athens Destroyers, including ten Commander Class Destroyers and one even larger that we’re calling a Supreme Athens Destroyer. In addition to these, they have roughly one hundred more ships, smaller, but combat-ready nonetheless.”
    “And us?” Morgan said. As general of all CasterLan forces, she already knew the numbers. It was important, though, for the rest of the room to know the situation they were in.
    “Seventy-seven Solar Carriers,” Westmoreland said, “and a few additional ships, but most weren’t built for war and have never been in a battle.”
    Baldwin closed his eyes and clutched his face between his hands. Cade groaned. To keep everyone from seeing the hopelessness in her eyes, Vere turned and looked out the window. Everyone in the room would interpret the far-off stare as solid resolve. That was her intention, at least. Little did they know she thought this situation was even more desperate than six years earlier when she had seen a fleet of Athens Destroyers appearing through the portal above her planet. At least then they had only been outnumbered two to one. Now, it was even worse than three to one.
    There was no way they could win. Why fight at all? It would only result in death and suffering. Wasn’t the just and right thing to give over the kingdom to the Vonnegan army, turn herself over as their prisoner, and whatever else she could do to prevent the bloodshed? Even if it meant giving herself over for execution, if it could save another galactic war and thousands, maybe a million lives, how could she not do it? She had faced one potential beheading before and lived to tell about it. Surely she could face another.
    From the silence around the room, it was obvious no one wanted to be the next person to speak after Westmoreland’s discouraging statistics.
    Whether to be realistic or to further antagonize Vere, Morgan made sure everyone knew exactly what the numbers meant. “We cannot beat them in a face to face battle. There is no way. No general, no amount of space warfare tactics, and no maneuvers will give us a chance of winning. We can turn it into a prolonged battle and hope their resources start to run low, or we can hope to destroy as many of their ships as they destroy of ours. But we cannot be naïve enough to think we actually have a chance of winning.”
    If Morgan’s goal had been to further discourage everyone gathered in the room, she succeeded. Traskk’s tail stopped moving. Cade leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling.
    If someone else had said it, Vere would have thought them a coward looking for a way to avoid the conflict altogether. Morgan, though, with her chin raised and her eyes unblinking, seemed to be daring Vere to send her into the impossible battle.
    From somewhere further down the table, however, someone started clapping. Fastolf.
    “That’s why they call her Ms. Motivation ,” he said with a laugh. “Bravo!”
    “Enough, Fastolf,” Vere said, not looking the least bit amused.
    Her friend gave an injured expression and sank down into his chair as much as his oversized frame would allow.
    Turning back to Morgan, Vere asked, “What do you suggest?”
    “We can only do what we can do. We use the ships Westmoreland has.” She pointed to a pair of men seated at the far side of the table who were wearing the light blue uniforms of CasterLan diplomats. “We use the next nine days to see how many other