The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) by Richard Sanders

quicken. She swallowed, her throat felt dry, and then with a hum it switched on and, like that, she was face-to-face with the queen of the Empire. Kalila Akira. The queen sat on her throne, it was elegant and ornate, as were her surroundings—the Ancient Palace harkened back to a time long ago, when the ruler of Capital World demonstrated his power through extravagance. The elaborate paintings on the walls, gilded fixtures, and other ornaments seemed to clash with the queen’s minimalistic dress. The only overstated luxury she wore was a small crown atop her head.
    Kalila was not a large person, rather the opposite, and sitting down, although the camera had been placed level with her piercing eyes, there was nothing about her appearance that should have intimidated someone like Ravinder. And yet Ravinder felt herself trembling as she waited for the queen to address her.
    “Admiral Ravinder,” said Kalila slowly.
    “Your Highness,” said Ravinder, bowing her head. “You honor me.”
    “You may stand at ease,” said Kalila. Ravinder raised her head and tried her best to look at ease, though she felt anything but.
    “Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Ravinder. “You are too kind. I am unworthy,” she said, hearing herself starting to mumble as the words escaped her lips at an accelerated rate. “I—it was my fault. I apologize, Your Highness, I failed you at Centuria V. Just as surely as I failed the Imperial citizens who resided there…I was entrusted to defend them and…I could not. I accept any punishment you wish to bestow upon me, for I am unworthy of any—”
    The queen interrupted her. “Silence, Fleet Admiral Ravinder, it is my turn to speak.”
    “Of course, Your Majesty,” said Ravinder, saying nothing more.
    “I have contacted you, not to discuss the tragic failure at Centuria V, but instead to discuss our plans for defending Capital World—and to provide you with specific orders for the role you shall play in that defense, so that Centuria V, and Layheri Alpha, are not repeated here.”
    Ravinder resisted the urge to verbalize her surprise, or to insist further that she be punished. For truly, that was what she knew she deserved.
    “Therefore,” the queen continued. “I neither accept your apology nor recognize your failure. You attempted to defend the good people of Centuria V to the best of your ability, but even great intentions and clever strategy cannot overcome the imbalance in numbers that you experienced there. That is why Sir Arkwright ordered you and the remnants of the defense force to withdraw from Centuria V and come here. I gave him that order.”
    This news surprised Ravinder. The order to retreat had come from the queen? The sovereign protector of the realm had ordered her military to abandon otherwise defenseless civilians—citizens of the Empire—to be put to the sword of the Dread Fleet? That didn’t sound right.
    “Once it became clear that further commitment to the battle in the Centuria System was tantamount to suicide, and that we could expect the complete loss of all our forces there—and that there was no possibility of saving the populace—I made the strategic judgment to withdraw everything and everyone I could—including you and the Hyperion —so that, while we had no chance of defending the Empire in the engagement at Centuria, we might still have a chance—our best chance—of defending the Empire, and the rest of humanity, by committing ourselves one-hundred percent to the defense of Capital World. For, if this planet falls to the Dread Fleet, I am quite certain that the rest of the Empire will follow in short order. Wouldn’t you agree, Admiral?”
    Ravinder looked into Kalila’s eyes; they seemed almost to see through her. It was unnerving. “Of course, Your Highness. Without our government, there can be no order, and without order, no defense.” Ravinder did not make that statement out of idle lip-service, rather she believed every word of it. No