Reinhard summoned his commanders ranked senior admiral or higher, along with all staff officers directly attached to HQ, to the temporary headquarters on Heinessen. Although this took the form of an imperial council meeting, Reinhard was past the point of any willingness to discuss the pros and cons of mobilizing troops. On the contrary, Reinhard’s goal was to ensure that his desire for war, his will to do battle, was shared in full by every admiral under his command.
“If they come at us with military force, we have no reason whatsoever to evade that challenge. That is why I led this expedition here in the first place. The very day that they provoke us, I will lead you all from Heinessen to strike them down.”
Surveying his assembled admiralty, Reinhard detected a desire to speak in Neidhart Müller’s gaze. He indicated with his eyes that this would be permitted, and the sandy-haired, sandy-eyed admiral spoke with plain sincerity.
“I do not mean to underestimate Your Majesty’s enemies, but this matter does not strike me as one on which the survival of the empire depends. It hardly seems necessary for Your Majesty to take to the battlefield personally. I humbly beseech Your Majesty to remain on Heinessen while we, your subjects, take care of the fighting.”
Reinhard’s gaze turned ironical, the light in his ice-blue eyes dancing like shooting stars. “For what purpose have I led the empire’s forces here? To reward the republicans’ insolent provocations with a welcoming smile? I think not. Your concern for my person, Müller, is noted, but on this occasion it is unnecessary.”
At this, Mittermeier sought leave to speak, which was also granted.
“If I may, Your Majesty. Her Majesty the Kaiserin and the Archduchess von Grünewald both await your safe return on Phezzan. I too would prefer that Your Majesty direct this battle from the rear.”
“Why, Mittermeier, I thought you had a wife and child praying for your safe return as well. What makes exposure to danger acceptable in your case, but not in mine?”
Reinhard’s words were barbed, but not unreasonable, robbing Mittermeier of any further counterargument. The imperial marshal fell silent.
In the Imperial Navy, there was no such thing as a valid reason to avoid combat. Defeating Iserlohn would finally allow the unification of all humanity under the Goldenlöwe. The Imperial Navy had deployed more than five times the military strength of the Iserlohn Revolutionary Army both around Heinessen and throughout the Baalat System. They were better equipped, and better supplied. If Iserlohn sought war, the empire would have to seize on this opportunity to forge a shorter path to peace and unification.
If there was any cause for concern, it was the fact that the supply, transport, and communication networks across the Neue Land were still somewhat unstable. However, since the arrest of Adrian Rubinsky, the degree of disruption had fallen sharply. Von Oberstein’s decisive action as minister of military affairs had pulled the tangled conspiracy up by the root, as even Mittermeier had to concede.
Wahlen, partly because the forces under his command were still reduced by half, was ordered to guard Heinessen. This would mean staying behind with von Oberstein, which was an unwelcome prospect in many ways, but the kaiser’s orders could not be refused. Von Oberstein had also indicated his opposition to Reinhard’s personal presence on any military expedition, but without any strong insistence, and he accepted his orders with a silent bow.
Reinhard had his attendant Emil bring in a bottle of wine and wineglasses, then went around the room himself pouring each of his generals a glass. When he was finished, he poured himself a glass of the 424 vintage as well.
“Yang Wen-li never fought unless there was a chance of victory. I respected him for that, but what, I wonder, of his successor?”
The question was not directed at his admirals, but neither was it a private musing. Suddenly, he raised his voice.
“Mittermeier!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You shall leave one day before me and prepare a suitable stage for our decisive battle with the republicans. The entire front line shall be yours to command. The left wing shall be von Eisenach’s, the right Wittenfeld’s, and Müller, you shall command the rear. Mecklinger, you are to accompany me as my chief advisor. Now—prosit!”
Reinhard lifted his glass of vivid, blood-red wine high, then drained it in a single draught and threw the glass to the floor, where it shattered. His admirals followed his lead, and soon the floor was carpeted with glittering fragments, calling to their recollection the galaxy of stars they had crushed beneath their boots.