The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [19]
Five EDF soldiers with rifles on their shoulders marched to the doorway and stopped. Base Commandant Tilton, a man with large, slightly bulging eyes, entered next and scanned the chamber to assess where everyone was. He had a weak chin that seemed designed for a beard, despite EDF regulations prohibiting facial hair. When Tilton finally spoke in a reedy voice, he addressed someone behind him in the hall. “The room is secure, Mr. Chairman.”
Basil Wenceslas stepped in alone, wearing a business suit that set him apart from all the military personnel. The guard kithmen closed in around the Mage-Imperator, and Jora’h did not tell them to back down. He coldly faced the Hansa Chairman, refusing to address his supposed counterpart with any title or formalities. “My Empire is under attack. Millions, if not billions, of my people are dying because you keep me here. Release me.”
“Certainly . . . provided you agree to a few simple terms. I thought I had made my expectations perfectly clear.” He responded with an obviously false smile. “Break your agreement with Peter and the outlaw Confederation. Declare that he’s a rebel and publicly support me. You can do it all in a single speech.”
Jora’h’s voice was ragged and distraught. “I am the Mage-Imperator. My promises are more than wind. By holding me here, you have declared war on the Ildiran Empire. My Solar Navy will hold you responsible for every Ildiran death that — ”
The Chairman gave him a dismissive wave. “Your Solar Navy is in a shambles. Bluster all you like, but now that I know your battleships are busy fighting the faeros, I have even less to fear from them.”
Jora’h’s journey to Theroc to cement an alliance with the Confederation had been a dramatic move. He had admitted the errors of previous Mage-Imperators, and King Peter had suggested that the two great races put their pasts behind them. New leaders, new times, a new future.
But now the relationship between Ildirans and humans — at least these humans — had forever changed.
Ironically, Nira realized that Jora’h’s father, like Chairman Wenceslas, would have betrayed anyone necessary to achieve his own ends and to protect the Empire. He would have had no qualms about breaking his alliance with the Confederation and making a pact with the Hansa if it served his purpose; nor would he have balked at breaking the newly made pact to be safe again. Mage-Imperator Cyroc’h had kept many secrets from the Ildiran people and even killed his own rememberers when they discovered too much.
Jora’h, however, was most emphatically not his father. He would never give in to the Hansa’s coercion.
Chairman Wenceslas continued to prod him. “Where is the Confederation now? Are they here to help you? Have they responded to your alleged crisis on Ildira, or have they left you entirely alone? Why remain loyal to such fair-weather friends. Why not end this? You can be on your way in no time.”
“I don’t believe he has any intention of freeing you, Jora’h,” Nira said. “His actions speak clearly enough.”
“I agree. It makes my decision even more straightforward.”
The Chairman was not impressed. “In the meantime, we’ve finished an analysis of your flagship. Or should I say the newest addition to our fleet? Since the Earth Defense Forces have been severely depleted, we need every viable ship. Enemies continue to abound . . . in all directions.”
Jora’h said in a cool voice, “Then perhaps you should not have made so many enemies. I will not permit you to incorporate part of the Ildiran Solar Navy into your military.”
The Chairman shrugged. “It’s a perfectly functional ship. I can’t let it go to waste.” He turned to Commandant Tilton. “Send word to Admiral Diente to prepare for a thorough test cruise.” Recognizing the name of the man who had ambushed the Mage-Imperator’s warliner on its way from Theroc, Nira scowled.
The Chairman flashed Jora’h a distasteful smile. “Admiral Diente will take your ship far outside our solar system to see what it can do. And, since you still need to come