I
Coincidence at the tactical level is nothing but the fragmentary afterglow of necessity at the strategic level.
—Yang Wen-li.
TOWARD THE END OF MAY in year 3 of the New Imperial Calendar, SE 801, the Galactic Imperial Navy and the Iserlohn Revolutionary Army collided in a full-scale confrontation. When the surface facts were ordered and examined, everything seemed to have resulted from one minor and unfortunate accident.
It began with a small civilian spacecraft on a heading that would take it out of the now Empire-controlled former alliance territory and into Iserlohn Corridor. The vessel was well above carrying capacity, with over 900 souls on board—young and old, male and female—seeking freedom and liberation. Despite bearing the grand name New Century, the spacecraft was old and run-down, and its engine eventually malfunctioned. A transmission seeking aid from Iserlohn drew the attention of imperial forces, undoing all their efforts to slip unnoticed through the empire’s patrol network.
“Ideals are ghoulish flowers, feeding on the corpse of reality. One ideal requires more blood than an army of vampires, and that blood is taken both from its supporters and its opponents.”
This irony, more overwrought than incisive, could, at times, exemplify a portion of the truth. This may have been one such time for the people of the Iserlohn Republic. No matter how they may have privately grumbled at the New Century’s inconvenient timing and wished they could ignore its call for aid, to stand by and watch as seekers of freedom fell back into the empire’s clutches was one thing that the Iserlohn Republic could never do. Of course, its leaders had witnessed the political and military developments of recent years from the closest possible range, which made them cynical enough to wonder whether the ship’s stranding might be some subversive operation by the Empire. Given Kaiser Reinhard’s nature, however, this seemed unlikely. In the end, Iserlohn’s military scrambled a small rescue mission.
The mission soon developed into an all-too-classic example of a battle that comes of a chance encounter. Startled by the sudden appearance of Iserlohn’s ships, the imperial commander who had come to investigate New Century called for aid from nearby allies, and before long Admiral Droisen arrived with his fleet, forcing Iserlohn to launch a full-scale mobilization in response. The battle eventually involved thousands of ships and raged for two hours until Droisen, realizing that under present conditions it would be folly to keep chasing after a tactical victory, withdrew his fleet. When Iserlohn’s ships turned to leave, however, he immediately made a show of pursuit, so that while he was gathering more and more allies to his side, Iserlohn’s forces could not turn their backs on him, lest they be attacked from the rear. Even as Julian sent the grateful passengers of New Century on ahead to Iserlohn, he felt a kind of dread mingled with regret. This encounter, he suspected, would awaken the kaiser’s thirst for war.
A survey of Reinhard von Lohengramm’s short life will show that he never once ended a troop mobilization with a mere show of force. He always plunged into battle. This was why a taste for warfare was said to be in the kaiser’s character, and why his short reign was painted with deep crimson as well as lustrous gold.
Under Julian’s leadership, Iserlohn’s military had concentrated its main forces near the entrance to the corridor, preparing to respond to events they could not foresee. With last year’s assassination of Yang Wen-li and this year’s riot at Ragpur Prison, their attempts at peaceful negotiations had been foiled by outside elements not once but twice, and these things perhaps inevitably tended to thicken their psychological armor. Thus, no matter what conditions prevailed, open hostilities were inevitable.
Julian had no desire to reject Kaiser Reinhard’s call for negotiations, but by the same token, he also had no intention of rendering obsequious and one-sided homage to him.
Yang had often spoken to Julian about Reinhard’s personality and values. “He would leap into the flames without a second thought if it were for the sake of his ideals, his ambitions, or of course what he loves—or hates. That’s just the kind of man he is, and he expects the same even of his enemies. It’s why he still grieves the loss of Siegfried Kircheis so deeply, and I imagine it’s also the reason behind his contempt for our leader, Job Trünicht.”
If democracy was so precious, why had Trünicht meekly surrendered to autocratic authority instead of defending the alliance’s political freedom with his life? Why had the will and choices of the citizenry granted a man like Trünicht authority and security in the first place? These questions must have left Reinhard utterly baffled. Today, the kaiser doubtless sought his ideal enemy in the handful of people who still rallied around Iserlohn.
“Reinhard’s feelings aside, though, as long as we’re holed up in the fortress with significant military force at our disposal, the empire and its military are going to be uneasy. At some point, Iserlohn will become a burden not to them, but to us.”
“Do you mean we should abandon Iserlohn?”
“Let me put it this way: if we cling to it too long, it’ll just end up narrowing our options, both political and military.”
Yang had kept the discussion at an abstract level, but it was clear to Julian that he’d had no intention of maintaining Iserlohn Fortress as a permanent base for democratic governance. The question that fell to Julian now was how to maximize the tactical advantage of holding Iserlohn at the moment.
Julian had inherited Yang’s respect for Kaiser Reinhard’s magnificent ability and ambition. But he had also inherited his guardian’s habit of unceasingly analyzing and monitoring the dangers that ability and ambition concealed. That could be hazardous, however, just as looking directly at the sun was hazardous to the eye.
Aboard Ulysses, Julian explained his thinking to von Schönkopf, Attenborough, and Poplin. Reinhard was probably willing to negotiate with the Iserlohn Republic, he told them, but not before at least one battle. Willingness to shed blood for their ideals was one of the yardsticks by which the kaiser measured his adversaries.
Von Schönkopf and those under him in the military hierarchy welcomed the prospect of a battle. Attenborough was also convinced by Julian’s reasoning, but had a question of his own.
“Does this mean that history will condemn the kaiser as too bloodthirsty and ruthless in his ambition?”
“No, most likely, he’ll be viewed as a great man whose methods were justified by his achievements.” Perhaps from fatigue, Julian was in a bitter mood, and his voice left barbs in the ear canals of all present. “Historians judge bloodshed by its efficacy. If a hundred million more die before the galaxy is unified, all they’ll say is, ‘The epochal feat of galactic unification was achieved at the cost of only a hundred million lives.’ ”
Julian sighed. There was a brief silence.
“It isn’t like you to talk this way, Julian,” von Schönkopf said finally. “What’re you, turning cynic on us? Gonna write a book of witty barbs for future generations?”
“Sorry,” Julian said, blushing. “I just got a little worked up.”
In truth, however, he had said nothing that called for an apology. His embarrassment had been at the sheer audacity he had shown in analyzing the psyche of Kaiser Reinhard, who outclassed him (if not Yang) in ability, experience, and achievement. Above all, Julian’s own occupation at that time was not historian but military leader. Regarding the efficacy of bloodshed, it fell to him not to judge but to be judged.