The Ashes Of Worlds

by The Ashes of Worlds (v5. 0) [lit]

  “Transmit on all known EDF bands.” He stood at the command nucleus rail. “This is Adar Zan’nh of the Ildiran Solar Navy. Surrender Mage-Imperator Jora’h and all Ildiran prisoners. If you resist, you will suffer great harm — and we will still take our leader back.”

  Alarms sounded down below. Cries of disbelief echoed across various communication bands. Within moments, troop transports rose, though it was clear they could not challenge the Solar Navy by hurling infantry at them. One Manta detached from an orbiting fuel depot and circled around as if to launch a solo attack against the entire Solar Navy, but fortunately the captain changed his mind. In a frenzy, several EDF courier craft raced away.

  “Adar, numerous ships are slipping through our net. Several emergency transmissions have been directed toward Earth. They will know we are here.”

  “It cannot be helped. We must act swiftly.”

  The EDF base was locking down in what must have been standard emergency procedures. Access domes were sealed shut, and airlocks were deactivated so that Ildiran troops could not access them.

  Zan’nh had not expected an immediate surrender. He issued his next command to his ships. “Dispatch all cutters to the lunar surface. All of them.” He knew precisely the impression that would make: Anyone in charge would be awestruck. The Earth Defense Forces could not stand against such show of strength, and it was far more than just show.

  While flocks of Ildiran cutters dropped down to the Moon, hundreds of warliners remained in lunar orbit with their weapons ready, surrounded by a wider-ranging defensive line. In wave after wave of heavily crowded landers, hundreds of thousands of Solar Navy soldiers landed on the lunar surface, each suited, armed, and trained . . . each with a single goal for this mission.

  Zan’nh transmitted his ultimatum to the local base commander. “I am prepared to pummel every dome, every outpost, and every ship until you surrender our Mage-Imperator.”

  96

  Mage-Imperator Jora’h

  Alarms sounded deep inside the lunar base tunnels. As he watched the EDF soldiers running about with panic on their faces, Jora’h could tell that this was no drill.

  “We are under attack,” Nira said to him, looking through the window in the locked door of their barracks quarters. “But by whom? The hydrogues again? The faeros? Klikiss robots?”

  Jora’h felt a surge of turmoil in the thism, and he smiled. He pressed a flattened palm against his chest, examining the faint feelings. “No, it is something else. Ildirans are near, many of them . . . the Solar Navy. And Adar Zan’nh is here.”

  Nira caught her breath. She sensed it, too. “Yes, and Osira’h! She’s the one who gave them our exact location.”

  Out in the corridor, harsh loudspeaker voices ordered detachments and squadrons to take up specific positions. Breathless soldiers rushed to the armories, pilots ran to their ships in the landing bays. Security doors slammed into place. Moments later an announcement declared that all airlock domes had been locked down to prevent any entry into the base.

  “They’re scared,” Nira said. “Genuinely scared.”

  “They should be. The Solar Navy means to free me, whatever the cost.” The Mage-Imperator stood as tall as he could, his hands locked behind his back. He felt invigorated by the presence of thousands more Ildirans. All of the captives would feel it, too.

  He stared at the sealed doorway of their stone-walled quarters and waited. He knew someone would come for him soon.

  More than fifty uniformed humans crowded the halls outside the holding chambers for the Ildiran prisoners. Apparently, some of the EDF soldiers intended to make a last stand here.

  The gaunt commandant elbowed his way through the anxious troops. Tilton’s bulging eyes were wild, his expression nearly frantic. He reached the entrance of Jora’h’s holding room and paused to take a breath, as if gathering courage.

  The Mage-Imperator faced him at the threshold, hardening his own resolve. He did not intend to compromise with this man who had willingly followed the heinous orders issued by Chairman Wenceslas.

  The commandant disengaged the security on the chamber door, opened the transparent panel, and stepped inside without being invited. More than a dozen soldiers stood at the entrance behind him, ostensibly to guard it. “Your Solar Navy has come with hundreds of ships. Hundreds! They have this base under siege. I cannot fathom how they knew your exact location.”

  Jora’h smiled. “All Ildirans can feel their Mage-Imperator. We are connected in ways that humans are not.”

  Tilton sounded fearful but resigned. “I can be realistic. There is no way our reinforcements can arrive in time, but I don’t think your Adar is inclined to settle in for a long engagement. He’s in a hurry, and he demands your immediate release. Thousands of small cutters are dropping down to the lunar surface, and our defenses won’t hold up against them.” He shook his head. “Personally, I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

  Jora’h shrugged casually. “Then release me.”

  Tilton withdrew his sidearm and held it loosely in his hand. “They would be very upset to find you dead when they arrive. You’re the only bargaining chip I have.”

  Nira stepped directly in front of Jora’h, boldly placing herself between him and the gun. “You will not kill him.”

  Tilton looked more flustered than angry. “You think I won’t just shoot you both if it comes to that? If I have to?”

  “If you harm me, or either of us,” Jora’h said in a voice as hard and cold as frozen steel, “then you guarantee that my Solar Navy will kill every single person on this base. They will feel the moment of my death. You saw how furiously my handful of guards fought when they tried to free me. Imagine what would happen if they knew you had killed me.” Even though Jora’h despised the Hansa Chairman for what he had done, he did not wish to inflict a bloodbath on the human soldiers. His true battle had always been clear — to fight the faeros.

  Tilton was holding his sidearm halfheartedly. “Then I suggest we reach some sort of satisfactory conclusion here.”

  “The only satisfactory conclusion is for you to release me so I can go back and save my Empire. You and your Chairman have already done enough damage.”

  Sporadic gunfire echoed through the tunnels, coming closer. Tilton seemed very alarmed.

  “The Solar Navy soldiers are approaching, Commandant,” Nira said, stepping even closer to the man’s sidearm. “If you order your troops to dig in and fight back, you know it’ll be a massacre, and you’ll never hold them back. In the end the Ildirans will still free us.”

  “The outcome is a foregone conclusion,” Jora’h said. “But the path to it is not yet decided. Tell your soldiers to withdraw. Let us go free. You will be saving hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives.”

  “Most of them human lives,” Nira pointed out. “Do the honorable thing.”

  Tilton’s expression was in knots, as if he were ready either to explode or collapse. He shifted the sidearm. “Chairman Wenceslas isn’t going to like this one bit,” he finally said under his breath. He shouted over his shoulder to his soldiers crowded in the corridor. “Pass the word on the intercom. Do not engage the Solar Navy troops!” He clenched his jaw, working his muscles. “Inform the Ildirans that their Mage-Imperator is unharmed — and will remain unharmed only if they stop killing my men.”

  Slowly, the sounds of sporadic resistance died away, though the chaotic shouts continued. With thunderous footsteps, bestial-looking Solar Navy soldiers charged down the tunnels, their crystal katanas ready to slash apart any uniformed EDF personnel who stood in their way. Adar Zan’nh strode at the head of the group, looking as if he had just conquered an entire planet.

  As soon as the Adar approached the holding cell, Tilton again pointed his sidearm threateningly at Jora’h. “What guarantee do I have that your troops won’t murder us all once you’ve taken the Mage-Imperator? I need assurances for me and my personnel.”

  Zan’nh narrowed his eyes, fixated on the ha
nd weapon. “This is an insult. Have you not done enough harm already?”

  Tilton was extremely jittery to see the sheer number of Solar Navy soldiers pressing close. Nira stepped forward and simply plucked the weapon from the man’s sweaty hands. “You aren’t going to shoot him, Commandant.” Tilton looked ready to collapse.

  Jora’h stepped forward. “Good work, Adar.”

  A broad smile of relief crossed Zan’nh’s face. Unable to restrain himself, he embraced his father, then stepped back to salute his Mage-Imperator in a more formal fashion. “I have what I came for.” He glowered at the defeated commandant. “It is time for the Solar Navy to withdraw.”

  97

  Sullivan Gold

  When the Chairman sent his family to the lunar base “for their own protection,” Sullivan had not expected the place to be pleasant. Nor had he expected to be caught in the middle of a war.

  Before he agreed to go to the Roamer gas giant of Golgen with a full EDF peacekeeping escort, Sullivan followed Lydia and his family to the Moon, insisting on seeing them settled in. He tried to promise them (and, secretly, himself) that everything would be all right. This was a painful solution, but the only one he could think of.

  And then the base was attacked.

  “Do the soldiers have to have drills every hour of every day? Don’t they ever sleep?” Lydia groaned. She turned to her husband. “I’m glad you’re here, at least.”

  Sullivan poked his head outside their quarters, one in a row of identical rooms along the same rock-lined corridor. When intercom messages called all soldiers to battle stations to defend the base, he listened to the palpable urgency in the voices. “I don’t think this is a drill.”

  Because they were not technically prisoners, his family could move wherever they liked, provided they remained within certain nonrestricted areas. Jerome, Victor, and Patrice had all sat around sullenly for most of the first day, unable to guess how they could ever put their lives back together. The younger children had quickly become bored.

  Sullivan grabbed Lydia’s wrist. “Quick, let’s get the family together. I don’t know what’s happening, but we don’t want to lose anyone.”

  No one would explain what all the excitement was about, even after the turmoil had raged for more than half an hour. The frantic soldiers had other priorities, and that gave Sullivan no great confidence. Lydia was already upset at being here. “I don’t know whether to be afraid, or hope that these soldiers get some sense knocked into them.”

  Commandant Tilton’s order echoed through the loudspeakers over the commotion and the sporadic gunfire in the corridors. “Give the Solar Navy soldiers unrestricted passage to the Mage-Imperator. Do not engage. They will guarantee our safety if we do not shoot at them. The Mage-Imperator is to be released unharmed.”

  Sullivan blinked. “So the Solar Navy’s here to rescue their people. That’s good news.”

  “And how does that benefit us?” Lydia said, sounding hopeful.

  He thought about that, weighed their options, and made up his mind. “Come with me, all of you.” He rushed out into the corridor, and the whole group of them, fourteen in all, followed him along the tunnels. The younger children were crying; Philip’s expression held more excitement than fear.

  “Where are we going, Sullivan?” Lydia said. “If this is the best thing, I’m right behind you — but what good will the Solar Navy do us?”

  “Plenty. Would you rather count on the hospitality of the EDF? Given the alternative, I prefer the way the Mage-Imperator treated me.” He looked deep into his wife’s eyes. “Please. I need you to trust me.”

  She responded with a wry smile. “I always trust you. Haven’t we given each other enough headaches over the years? We came through it all. We’ll go, if that’s what you say we need to do.”

  Sullivan had a general idea of the section of the base where the Ildiran captives were being held, and he made a beeline for it, family in tow. The passageways were filled with so many confused soldiers that no one bothered to stop them.

  Just before they reached the Ildiran barracks, Sullivan turned a corner and came upon a large group of armored Solar Navy soldiers standing in ranks. Waving his hands at the stony Ildirans, he tried to get the attention of anybody in charge. “My name is Sullivan Gold. Please take me to Mage-Imperator Jora’h or Adar Zan’nh — either one will do.”

  The ferocious-looking fighters glared at him.

  Since all the Ildiran soldiers were marching toward the same point, Sullivan decided to follow them with Lydia and their large brood. “Excuse me!” He worked his way around heavily muscled guard kithmen, avoiding their sharp weapons and hard armor. Ildiran soldiers were streaming swiftly out of the tunnels in an orderly retreat, heading back toward the surface and the large paved landing zones where a veritable blizzard of cutters and troop transports had landed. “I hope we’re not too late.”

  Ahead of them, he saw more Ildirans in different clothing, bureaucrat kithmen, attenders, then a female green priest. He knew Jora’h must be nearby. “Mage-Imperator! Wait! I need to speak with you!”

  An imposingly dressed soldier at the head of the crowd turned toward him, and Sullivan recognized Adar Zan’nh. The military commander caught his father’s attention, pointing back at Sullivan, who pulled Lydia along with him, whispering, “Follow me. Better not make them wait.”

  When he finally worked his way through the muscular guard kithmen, Sullivan faced the Adar and the Mage-Imperator. He could barely catch his breath. “My family and I request sanctuary in the Ildiran Empire. Please take us with you.”

  “This is quite a turnabout, Sullivan Gold.” Jora’h looked at him in surprise. “Have you changed your mind about staying in the Hansa?”

  “Yes, sir, we have,” Lydia piped up for him. “Our whole family has.”

  Surprisingly, the Adar spoke in his favor. “This man has already demonstrated how much he has to offer our people, Liege. We know he would be a continued asset to the Empire.”

  “And my family can be just as useful. This is my wife, Lydia.” He pointed to the rest of the group. “I’ll introduce the others later. The Chairman had them all held hostage. Please take us back to Ildira. We’d much rather be there.”

  Mage-Imperator Jora’h turned a sad but understanding face toward him. “The faeros have invaded Ildira. Hundreds of thousands have already died. Mijistra itself is obliterated, as is the Prism Palace. I am no longer sure how much of my Empire remains.”

  Sullivan was shocked to hear the news, but he did not change his mind. “Nevertheless, we’d still rather take our chances with the Ildirans. We’ll help you however we can. This hasn’t been a picnic here.”

  The Mage-Imperator nodded, then gestured for them to follow. By the time they climbed aboard a large troop transport, Sullivan had calmed the family somewhat. “It’ll be all right — I mean it this time.”

  Clusters of ships rose away from the landing fields on the Moon to join the crowded warliners in low orbit. Sullivan was amazed at the speed of the frantic mass exodus. The whole operation was astoundingly efficient.

  While the Solar Navy retrieved its personnel from the Moon, the outer ring of warliners remained ready to intercept the first reinforcement battleships that were en route from Earth. From start to finish, Adar Zan’nh’s lightning strike and his near-bloodless rescue of the Mage-Imperator lasted no more than two hours.

  Once all personnel were aboard, the first septas of warliners streaked away toward a prearranged rendezvous point. Sullivan and his family followed the Mage-Imperator and Nira into the command nucleus of Adar Zan’nh’s warliner. Jora’h and Nira’s young daughter Osira’h greeted her parents with hugs. Sullivan wasn’t sure if he belonged there, but none of the Ildirans complained.

  Warliners continued to streak away, one by one, as soon as their crews returned. While waiting for the rest of the evacuation, the remaining Solar Navy maniples clustered in a defensive formation, prepared to depart once they had finished
guarding the retreat. Though his primary mission had been to rescue the Mage-Imperator, Adar Zan’nh insisted on remaining there until all ships had gotten safely away.

  When the last cutters and troop transports landed aboard the flagship, he looked at the Mage-Imperator’s warliner, which had been seized by the EDF, still in a parking orbit over the Moon. He seemed to be weighing options, deciding whether or not he had time to retrieve it.

  A new set of alarms shrieked throughout the command nucleus. “Adar, incoming vessels! They are on their way to the Moon from outside the system. A . . . vast number.”

  “It’s probably the EDF chasing you,” Sullivan said, trying to stay out of the way. “But I didn’t think they had that many ships left outside of the solar system.”

  Zan’nh stood with his father, staring at the main projection screen. “These are not Earth vessels. In fact, these are not truly vessels at all . . .”

  Moving so swiftly that the sensors had difficulty tracking them, bright lights drove forward like flashes of fire from deep space. It looked like a frenzied cluster of stars shot into the solar system, flaming ellipsoids too numerous to count.

  “If the faeros knew to come here, then apparently Rusa’h was not killed in the destruction of Mijistra, as we hoped,” Zan’nh said.

  In the command nucleus, Osira’h touched her father’s hand. “Rusa’h thinks you are still on the Moon.”

  Adar Zan’nh snapped quick orders. “Move our remaining ships to the far side of the Moon. We will take advantage of the blocking shadow to finish loading our last cutters and transports.”

  “If the faeros are coming for us,” Jora’h said, “they will find us.”

  The last few warliners dove below the cratered horizon, swiftly finishing their lockdown procedures. “No, Liege. I promise you, we will escape.”

  Behind them, like an inconceivably powerful meteor shower, the faeros armada headed straight toward the Earth’s Moon.

  98