General Grennin pushed a miniature ship across the chart with a long, golden fork, then aligned two more behind it.
“If we attack from the cover of Lygo, we’ll have the element of surprise.”
“If we attack from the cover of Lygo, we’ll violate the treaty of Lygo.”
“Then what do you propose, Vice General?”
“Retirement,” she answered.
“You can’t quit when we’re about to go to war!”
“We’re only going to war because you don’t know when to quit!” She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. He always riled her, but she’d be damned if she let him manipulate her emotions one last time.
His eyes bulged at her insolence. He pointed the fork at her, menacing, and lurched over the table between them. The ships scattered in retreat. Spittle and foam pooled beneath Lygo’s twin moon. To her knowledge, that violated no standing treaty.
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