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 — Imean it this time.”