Page 94 of Reaper Said Mine

“Better than Coalition spies with clipboards.”

“And yet you propose soldiers with guns.”

“Soldiers are honest.”

Wilcox’s voice goes dry. “General, I have met many soldiers. That statement is ambitious.”

Gobold shoots her a betrayed look. “You are supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on the side of not sounding deranged before lunch.”

I press my compad harder against my chest to keep from smiling. Gnash glances at me once, and the corner of his mouth shifts. The bond between us pulls in that small exchange, warm and private despite the room full of predators. It is wildly inconvenient, professionally hazardous, and the only honest thing in the chamber.

Theryki resumes with a tone so gracious it could poison water. “Lord Gnash, the Coalition’s concern remains practical. Your station sits at a strategic threshold. Your rule has reduced certain forms of violence, yes, but it has also created uncertainty because no recognized framework governs your authority.”

“Recognition in exchange for access,” Gnash says.

“Recognition in exchange for partnership.”

“Partnership in exchange for dependence.”

Her golden eyes gleam. “All political arrangements require trust.”

Gobold barks a laugh. “Trust from the Coalition. That is adorable.”

Theryki does not look at him. That is how she dismisses him, I realize. She lets him make noise and gives him no center to strike. “You already understand leverage, Lord Gnash. You would not have held Guyver Station this long if you did not. The question before you is whether you wish your leverage to remain informal, vulnerable, and dependent on fear, or whether you wish to convert it into durable political power.”

It is a good argument. That bothers me. It bothers Gnash too, though his face reveals almost nothing. He listens with his claws resting on the table, expression still, jaw set in hard lines. The man beside me in the market, the one who argued about coolant and buns, vanishes beneath the warlord everyone else expects to meet. Yet because I have seen the other version, this one no longer frightens me the same way. It looks like armor now.

“Durable political power,” Gnash repeats. “Written by your attorneys, interpreted by your courts, defended by your fleets, and revoked when I become inconvenient.”

Theryki’s smile remains composed, but something in her eyes tightens. “You underestimate how many within the Coalition see opportunity in your success.”

“No,” Gnash says. “I am asking what price they intend to charge once I can no longer leave the table.”

Gobold leans forward. “Then don’t sign. Keep the station under armed independence. Accept Alliance advisory support, increase patrol presence, and make it clear any Coalition interference will be treated as hostile.”

I look at him sharply. There it is. Gobold is not merely opposing Coalition influence. He wants a military tripwire. If Alliance patrols entrench here under the banner of advisory support, the Coalition either accepts humiliation or escalates. Either way, Gobold gets the standoff he understands.

Wilcox sees it too. Her mouth flattens. “General, advisory support without a broader diplomatic framework could be misread as occupation pressure.”

“It could be read as deterrence.”

“It could be read as bait.”

Gobold’s nostrils flare. “Ambassador Wilcox, the Alliance did not survive the Centuries War by wringing its hands over whether hostile actors might misunderstand strength.”

“No,” she says coolly. “We survived long enough to bury entire cities because too many commanders believed strength and escalation were synonyms.”

The words strike me harder than I expect. Horus IV passes through my mind, not as footage, but as heat, smoke, and my mother’s hand. I keep my breathing steady because this room has enough predators in it without giving them my blood scent.

Gnash turns his head a fraction, not enough to draw attention. His gaze touches my face, swift and assessing.

I give him the smallest nod.

I am all right.

Not untouched. Not unaffected. But all right.