“Of course we did,” Gareth admitted, levering himself away from the wall. He sounded surprised that Conner could think otherwise. “If the Senate thinks they can duck their head into the sand and ride this out, perhaps a few demonstrations will convince them to cooperate.”

“Convince?” Gerald Monroe asked, drawing on his seventy years politicking to infuse his voice with absolute contempt. “Or threaten? That circus out there”—he waved his hand dismissively—“that is not public debate. It’s the preliminary to a police state.”

It was a strong statement. But Conner, at least, saw the fear in his father’s eyes.

Gareth must have as well. He struck fast, like a shark sensing blood.

“And were you this concerned with the separation of powers when you attacked the foundation of The Republic’s national defense? Or were you only thinking about yourself? Senator? You compromised our security. You’ve called into question the loyalty of every officer and knight touched by one of your programs, and I believe you did this for no other reason than a selfish gathering of power for personal gain.”

“It was a mistake,” the senator whispered, crestfallen.

“It was a mistake to begin, Senator Monroe. Now it’s murder. Victor Steiner-Davion was a well-loved figure throughout The Republic. How do you think the people of Markab will react to news of your complicity in his death?”

“I will explain that I had nothing—”

The paladin cut him off with a violent slash of his hand. “We are not giving you the chance to explain. No appeal to the people for forgiveness. Paladin Heather GioAvanti has four knights on Markab already working the media and the local government to begin your impeachment, sir. When you stand Noble’s Court, not if, you will do so without the added status as a senator of The Republic.”

“Gareth!” Conner stepped in to head off the building storm. The young knight knew what resources the exarch and any of his paladins could bring to bear. But his father did not yet see the danger.

“I’ll fight you,” Monroe threatened, trumping his son by sheer volume. “I have friends and deep resources on Markab. When I reach them, you’ll find it won’t be so easy.”

“Senator, you are under the mistaken impression that you will be allowed to leave Terra. You are under military investigation, sir. The headlining charge is treason. ‘The Republic of the Sphere at the time being in a state of war against outside nations…’ All activity which undermines the strength of the military shall be seized upon and tried at the discretion of the military.”

“But I had nothing to do with Paladin Steiner-Davion’s death!”

“And why do you believe that matters?”

A hollow sensation opened in the pit of Conner’s stomach. Paladin GioAvanti—and the exarch—were willing to go that far? Stretching evidence to browbeat the senator into submission? He watched his father turn ashen, open his mouth and then close it when nothing came out, the great speaker stumped for words for perhaps the first time in his life as The Republic’s executive branch rolled over him like a juggernaut.

“Gareth.” The knight swallowed dryly, feeling sympathy for his father and the situation the man found himself in, but unable to rise easily to the senator’s defense. “Paladin Sinclair. Isn’t this a nonproportional response to the crime?”

Gareth Sinclair calmed, the anger in his voice subsiding as he addressed the knight. But not completely. “You tell me, Conner. Your father willingly conspired to influence military officers and undermine the power of the exarch. To prove treason and murder we only have to demonstrate that a weakening of our military and the need to cover up was a logical consequence of entering into such a conspiracy.”

Gerald Monroe had given up arguing his own case. He stared through the paladin, eyes unseeing.

Conner stepped forward and laid a hand on his father’s arm, steering the senator aside. “That’s the legal case. But is it right?”

“What’s right in this case would be the Senate owning up to its mistake and allowing us to properly investigate such that we can differentiate between those who went along, those who engineered, and those who plotted and carried out Victor’s murder. We believe your father may be innocent of these latter charges, which is why he is one of two senators who will be offered a deal.”

Senator Monroe found his voice. “What kind of deal?”

Having played out his bad cop routine, Conner watched as Gareth took on the good cop role with equal ability. Suddenly, he was understanding and helpful, if not sympathetic to Gerald Monroe’s plight.

“Sir. Viscount. You are finished as a senator. You might very well be stripped of all lands and titles before this is all over, but that depends on who you have left for friends. The exarch is in the position to be generous to the first senator who stands by him.”

Conner nodded his understanding. “You want him to roll over on the others.”

“Want? We expect him to. And just so you know, Maya Avellar is putting the same deal in front of our other choice this morning. First one to agree gets the exarch’s full support in return.”

All wrapped up in a neat little package. Neat and tidy for the exarch, anyway. For the Monroe family, this spelled ruin. Conner’s father could resign his post, certainly, but the scandal would never be wiped away. Seventeen years of direct service to The Republic, five generations of the family’s honor, all abruptly ended. That, more than anything, he later believed, was what finally got to the senator.

“If you will excuse me,” Gerald Monroe whispered. Shoulders slumped, eyes down, he stepped past Gareth Sinclair and slipped through the door to his office suite.

“The offer stays on the table until I get a call from Maya,” Gareth said, a little compassion creeping into his voice now that Gerald had left them alone.

Compassion for the senator? Or for Conner?

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked, not bothering to hide his own fury. “It was completely uncalled for, you realize.”

“You think so?” Gareth rescinded his brief pity, turning cold as if with the flip of a switch. “Which part?”

“All of it. You could have come to the senator with your offer first rather than put him through the wringer like that. Stone’s blood, man, you could have brought it to me. I might have sold him on it without a fight.”

Gareth Sinclair considered that a moment. A slight flash of pain behind his eyes promised that he might have pursued his target with ruthless efficiency, but he hadn’t enjoyed it. In the end, though, the young paladin simply shook his head.

“Couldn’t take the chance. A soft sell might have convinced the senators we’re weak, and wouldn’t follow through. They have to know we’re serious, Conner.” Gareth’s face pinched closed, his eyes turning hard like malachite. “And so do you. I know how hard it is at times to walk that line between family and exarch. I made my decision. I’m sorry to have to put you to yours.”

“We’re going to be sorry for a lot of things before this is over,” Conner snapped back.

“Maybe. But I’ll sleep well at night.” And Gareth Sinclair left with a curt nod and squared shoulders. A man bearing up under an unpleasant but (he thought) necessary duty.

Conner wasn’t so certain. Did Gareth truly appreciate the destruction he’d wrought today? He should—the man was a lord in his own right, with family estates in the Isle of Skye region. Did he understand that the Viscount holdings on Marduk would be curtailed, or stripped away by more powerful nobles in the feeding frenzy following a public trial?

And Asai Rhys, Conner’s mother. Business ventures would fall through, and she would face the shame of this every day for the rest of her life—if she did not embrace her samurai heritage and retire her dishonor with seppuku.