by David Adams
*****
Operations Room
TFR Beijing
Orbit of Earth
“THE SIGNAL’S COMING IN ON 121.5 MHz. Recording…”
“121.5? The military distress and advisory frequency?” Liao blinked in confusion. “Put it on speaker.”
A voice—thin and robotic as though artificially generated—filtered through the operations room. It spoke in unaccented and inflectionless English, intoned evenly and without emotion.
“…erran type-six starship. This is Warbringer Avaran of the Toralii Alliance Vessel Seth’arak. Respond on frequency Four. Two. Eight. Point. Six. Attention, Terran type-six starship. This is…”
Seth’arak. In Toralii, the word meant “Herald of Woe.” Or perhaps “Herald of Misfortune”; Liao did not remember. She made a mental note to ask Saara about it later.
Liao took her hand from the officer’s shoulder. “Put me on UHF 428.6.” As the man worked, Liao turned to the rest of the operations room and picked up the ship’s intercom.
“Captain Liao to all hands. General quarters, general quarters, general quarters. Report to action stations. This is not a drill.”
She closed the link, turning to the swing-shift tactical officer. “All reactors to full power. Load all missile tubes, charge the hull plating, and prepare to engage on my order.”
The communications officer nodded, indicating the channel was ready. Liao picked up the long-range communications handset—a curved handset device similar to wireless headphones—and put it over her head, adjusting the mouthpiece so it was comfortable. She took a breath and then pushed the talk key.
“Toralii Alliance Vessel Seth’arak, this is TFR Beijing, actual. While I can’t physically speak the Telvan Toralii dialect, I can understand you if you go slowly and use simple words. Ideally, your translation device will not be necessary.”
There was a brief pause when Liao heard nothing. She almost motioned for the tactical officer to fire. In the background, the rest of the operations crew poured into the room, a few buttoning up uniforms as though they had been at ease. Liao noted how quickly they were coming. Most, like her, had not been asleep. Sleeplessness before a large operation was not uncommon.
Then the voice came, a voice which was so like, and yet so unlike, Saara’s; it was deep and gravelly.
[“You understand our language… an impressive trick, Captain Liao.”]
Liao tried not to let the fact that the Toralii captain knew her name upset her. She frowned, struggling with the language, trying to digest his words. When he had finished speaking, Liao focused her mind and tried to make her response accurate. She had to focus so hard on understanding him that preparing a reply was difficult.
“One of many, Warbringer, I assure you.” She cleared her throat. “But to business. Toralii Alliance vessel Seth’arak, you are in violation of the Sol system’s sovereignty, and I demand you leave immediately, or deadly force will be employed against you.”
The voice of Warbringer Avaran echoed through the operations room like the ghosts of the dead speaking to the living. It was poetic and vague, and Liao knew her mental translation was imperfect; fortunately, they were recording the transmission, and Saara would help her translate after the fact.
[“Brave words from a brave little creature. We know you are hunting the Forerunner. If you have honour and a sense of self-preservation, you will cease development of the Voidwarp technology and surrender yourselves for judgement for the murder of the crew of the Toralii vessel Tir’aran.”]
The Tir’aran was Saara’s vessel. Liao was slightly amused by the use of the term “murder,” which was one word she knew. It seemed as though all sides in a conflict regarded deaths to their own as “murder” but enemy deaths as “losses,” “damage,” “victories,” or other such euphemisms.
“Firstly, our mission objectives are classified.” Liao saw no advantage to confirming their suspicions.
[“Classify whatever you like. Your lies won’t shield us from the truth.”]
“Secondly, Warbringer, regretfully the Tir’aran violated Terran space, much as you are doing now, and was destroyed for that trespass. I suggest you learn from their example. Thirdly, the Tir’aran was a vessel registered to the Telvan, not the Toralii Alliance, so our quarrel is technically with them.”
[“We come not to quarrel.”]
Liao considered, closing her eyes a moment. All eyes in the room were upon her; she focused, choosing her words carefully.
“Then state your purpose. Why are you here?”
[“We bring your people a message… an ultimatum.”]
Liao considered, her finger twitching as it held down the talk key. “Which is?”
[“Dismantle your Voidwarp technology, scuttle your warships, and surrender yourselves to judgement and sentencing for the murder of the crew of the Toralii Vessel Tir’aran. Failure to comply will result in your destruction and the destruction of billions on your world as we obliterate your species from orbit. Ask the prisoners you obviously have taken if my promise is empty. Transmit your answer on this frequency, and the Forerunner will jump away and relay it to the rest of our fleet.”]
There was the shortest of pauses.
[“You have forty rotations of your planet, Earth, to decide. Choose… wisely.”]
With a wink, the blip on the Beijing’s radar disc winked out, and the radio made no noise aside from the faint hiss of static.
For a moment, there was silence in the operations room, until Rowe's voice broke the spell.
“Wow. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he sounds like a prick.”
Liao couldn’t help but chuckle. A prick indeed.
The communications officer pointed to his screen, waving Liao over. “Captain Liao? I think you should see this.”
Liao stepped over, and when she saw what he was pointing to, a slow, eager grin crept over her face.
Conference Room Two
TFR Beijing
Orbit of Earth
Half an hour later
“I think our course is very clear.”
Liao folded her arms, clicking the “next” button on her remote control. The floor-to-ceiling monitor assigned to the far wall changed, displaying a giant clock. “Forty days, so we have some breathing room at least… but not much. We’ve got a month and a bit before the Toralii Alliance want their answer. We have to get moving if we want to beat the clock.”
Rowe raised her hand. “Does that mean we’re abandoning the pursuit of the Forerunner?”
Commander Iraj spoke up. “No. In fact, capturing it is more imperative than ever. We need its on-board computer so we can figure out what jump coordinates it knows, so we can plan a counter-offensive.” The Iranian man paused, regarding Rowe for a moment. “If we gave you their computer, mostly intact, you’d be able to understand it, right?”
Summer rolled her eyes. “Phht, no. Okay, first of all, even on Earth, even with very similar computer types—such as x86 versus, say, SPARC—the differences between them are so great they can’t inter-operate, generally, without a compatibility layer. Between systems with an even bigger gulf between them—like ARM and a stopwatch—there’s basically zero likeness. Between anything I’ve experienced before and a Toralii machine… inconceivable differences.”
Iraj just grinned. “Well, then, I’m going to rely on your cunning intellect and brilliant mind to make them work. The captain and I have full confidence in you.”
The man paused a moment to let Aharoni, who was late, come into the room.
When he was settled, Liao spoke again, switching the topic back to business.
“Anyway, so, yes, we’re still going after the Forerunner. I suppose now is as good a time to tell you all as any. When the Seth’arak—that’s the Toralii ship I spoke to earlier—jumped into the system to issue their little ultimatum, they sent a signal to the Forerunner. More importantly, the Forerunner sent one back. Because the signal was conventional radio and theref
ore subject to the speed-of-light restriction, we were able to figure out exactly how far away the Forerunner was. No direction, of course, but if we know the distance, all we had to do was just draw a big circle and see what jump points it intersects, which we did. Essentially, we now know what jump point it’s been hiding at. It’s out by Mercury, probably hiding by using the Sun’s radiation.”
Rowe nodded. “Well, capturing the Forerunner won’t be easy. As we said earlier, this plan of yours—sorry, I mean ours—is a long shot… if it will even work at all.”
“Doesn’t that mean it’s a sure thing?” Liao grinned playfully at the redhead. “If someone says it’s a long shot but it just might work?”
“Actually,” said someone from the entrance to the conference room, turning all heads that way, “sometimes these things are easier than they seem.”
It was James Grégoire.
“Welcome aboard, Captain.” Liao did her best to keep her tone professional and suitably distant. Rowe's smirk almost unnerved her, but she kept herself together for the moment. “However, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, while you were having a chat with the charming Toralii gentleman earlier, I couldn’t help but notice that there was a second jump-in at that time, at the L2 point on the far side of the moon. I guess that signal sent to the Forerunner was a message asking it to jump closer and report.”
Iraj tilted his head. “The L2 point—right where the Tehran was stationed?”
James chuckled and nodded. “Our strike craft scrambled and caught it before it finished. We hit and disabled its jump drive due to some fancy shooting by the head of our strike wing, a charming fellow who goes by the name of Spectre. Then we—casual as you like—simply cruised in and picked it up. It’s being shipped over to your science team as we speak since ours hasn’t been fully assembled.”
He grinned at the stunned faces in front of him. “Completing your missions for you before you set out, huh? You slackers on the Beijing really need to pick up your game.”
Captain Liao’s Quarters
TFR Beijing
Orbit of Earth
Four hours later
“‘Pick up your game?’ Really? I can’t believe you!” Melissa gave James a playful swat on his dark rump. “You’re on my ship, Mister Grégoire, so you better show me and my crew some respect.” Melissa rested over his back, cuddling down on top of him, her sheets damp with sweat.
“Hey, technically I outrank you,” he murmured, squirming underneath her. “You should be showing me respect.”
Melissa snickered. “E-e-eh, technically smechnically. I can kick your arse any day.”
“You could not.”
Melissa smirked and nipped his ear. “Stirring for a fight, mmm? What are you, sixteen again?”
“I feel young as a spring chicken again when I’m around you. Didn't I say that already?”
Melissa rubbed his sides, giving a squeeze from atop him. “I forgot.” She snickered cheekily right in his ear. “Sometimes I forget important things you tell me.”
“That’s a good quality for a commanding officer to have. Forgets important things… perhaps I should inform Fleet Command. I’ll put it right here in my report. Ahem, Commander Liao—for she’s not yet made captain on account of being far too short and cute—frequently forgets important things. Further, she’d rather have a nice chat with the aliens than sneak away some of their tech. But hey, she’s great in the sack, so what’s not to like?”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Melissa purred, squeezing him tightly enough to dig her nails in. “But I’m much better than great.”
“Mmm, indeed. By the way, I have something for you.” James wriggled around underneath her, squirming away and falling out of bed. He reached for his discarded pants.
“I thought we already did that.”
“Something else. Something pretty and something even more definitely against regulations.” He fumbled around with the pockets for a moment, producing a long, thin box. “Aha!”
Melissa’s eyes widened curiously. “So that’s what was in your pocket. I thought that was just you getting all excited when I took off my top.”
“Mmm, yes to both as a matter of fact.”
Standing up naked, the man beckoned her to do the same. Confused, she did.
“Okay. Stand in front of the mirror, like this—yep, just like that—and close your eyes. Tight. No peeking.”
Melissa stood there with her eyes closed. She felt something cool and smooth slide around her neck, and then she felt James’s hand playfully slapping her on the backside. “Okay, open.”
She did so. A thin strand of pearls, all white except for the lowest and largest one, which was black, rested comfortably around her neck.
“James, it’s… it’s beautiful! But we’re fifty thousand kilometres from the nearest oyster, where did you get this?”
She twisted the black pearl between her fingers, admiring it in the mirror.
“Let’s just say I put in a special order. A friend of mine slipped it into the CO2 scrubber refit. I specifically ordered a longer string than normal, and they’re fairly small pearls, so you can wear it under your uniform, and nobody will ever see it.”
Melissa laughed, glancing down and admiring them directly, beaming widely. “Heh. You’re not going to want to do something stupid like sketching me wearing this—just this—are you? Because there are no Model T Fords on this boat.” She paused, putting a finger to her lips, her smile becoming a coy smirk. “Although there is Saara’s fighter.”
Before James could answer, the radio crackled and called Commander Liao’s name. Sighing, Liao walked over, picked up the device, and pressed the talk key.
“This is the captain; go ahead.”
“You are not going to fucking BELIEVE this!”
Liao rolled her eyes. Rowe's voice had this amazing ability to drive her crazy when she was excited.
“Go ahead, Summer.”
It sounded as though she had her mouth far too close to the microphone, causing a kind of staticky feedback. “I got a crack at the computer core of the Forerunner, right? Right? Well, this is like nothing-fucking-else I’ve ever seen, but at the same time, it’s totally understandable! It’s like… it’s like, only an operating system difference between our computers. All the basic stuff is here—electric current, low-high voltage as binary representations, simple message passing…”
Liao glanced down to James, who merely shrugged. She took her finger off the talk key. “You understand any of that?”
James shrugged again. Liao keyed once more.
“So-o-o, Summer, um—that’s great and all, but what can you get the computer to tell us?”
For a moment, the only response that came down the line was a barking, nasal laugh. “Nothing! Sweet fuck-all, bupkis, jack shit, nothing. Nothing at all, but hey… it’s progress. It’s progress, and it’s coming much, much fucking faster than I thought possible. We’ll have it talking eventually. Eventually. Like, real soon now.”
“Sooner would be better, Summer.”
“I know, I know, I know! But this is just fascinating! This is alien technology—”
“Just like the Toralii strike craft? Or did you get bored and forget?”
“Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no-no, no. Yeah. Yeah, but this is totally different—totally different! This is a computer! The one on Saara’s bird was fried—completely fucked—but this one works fine!”
“Uh, great. Let me know when you have anything useful. Liao out.”
“Killjoy.” Behind her, James playfully chuckled, doing his best to mimic Rowe's machine-gun-like speech. “Oh oh oh, mummy, look what I made at school!”
She rolled her eyes. “If I had wanted children I would have never joined the military. Fate sure has a sense of humour if it’s giving me not one but two overgrown kids to deal with on a regular basis. Maybe I’m being punished.”
The radio crackled again, and Liao almost
didn’t answer it, but Rowe's voice was suddenly insistent. Frantic. Fearful.
“—tain Liao-o-o! Captain Liao-o-o! You need to come see this immediately! CAPTAIN LIAO-O-O!” There was a sharp, intense squeal of static and then silence.
Engineering Bay Four
TFR Beijing
She pulled on her uniform as quickly as she could, tucking the string of pearls under her jacket, and then she and James practically sprinted down the ship’s length to the fourth engineering bay on the ship’s starboard side. She tried several times to call Rowe on the radio, but the woman wouldn’t—or couldn’t—answer, so she did the next best thing and called for backup. Halfway there, Cheung and a handful of marines joined her in the corridors.
By the time they arrived, Liao could immediately tell that something was wrong inside the engineering bay. The tiny window on the hatchway was aglow with a strange, blue light so bright that Liao couldn’t see inside. An ominous humming noise, like the expression of some vast energy source, came from within.
The Toralii computer core was being stored there. Rowe and most of the engineering team were in there, too.
“Open that door!” she roared. “Use the explosives if you have to. Whatever's happening in there, I want it stopped!”
“Aye aye, Captain—breach and clear! Checking… there’s atmosphere,” confirmed Cheung, nodding to her team. “Do it!”
Three men attached long strands of plastic explosives to the hatchway seals and then, with a loud pop-bang, blew the door off its hinges.
Liao let the marines surge in, stepping in behind them. The engineering bay was nearly fifty cubic metres, and filling the whole of the previously empty space was a huge light display—so bright she almost couldn’t look at it—cast by a billion tiny, glowing pinpricks of energy floating around a large, central vortex. The light had a stark, alien quality to it and emanated directly from the large polyhedral object—possibly an icosahedron—sitting flat on the deck with hundreds of power and data cables running out of it.
Rowe and the rest of the engineering team stood right beside it, their necks craned up at the display.
Liao pointed to the device.
“Warrant Officer, destroy that thing!”
“No!” Rowe, appearing to break out of her trance, twisted around and waved for Cheung to stop. “No! Wait! Wait! Stop!”
Liao held up her hand for pause. “What the fuck is going on here, Summer? What did you do?”
“Don’t you see?!” The redhead waved her hands wildly at the ceiling. “It’s a star chart! It’s a map, a three-dimensional map!”
“Where’s Saara?” Liao squinted, trying to spot her Toralii friend's outline in the glare. She needed someone more level-headed, and Saara was meant to be here.
“Sleeping. We’ve had her up for hours now, and she needed to rest, but that doesn’t matter. Look! If you touch something—” Rowe reached out and jabbed her index finger at one of the points of light. Immediately, a thin, red trail formed at her fingertip. She dragged it across the empty void, before poking another star. The red trail formed a much thicker glowing, crimson line. Glyphs flowed across the screen far too fast for Liao to read them, and then all that remained was a series of numbers in the Toralii script.
“See? I’m betting my next month’s wages that those numbers are the jump coordinates to get from here to here. Saara did mention that the Toralii computer systems were designed to be very simple.”
Liao stared and then nodded in understanding. “Right. So what you’re saying is… with this device, you could plot jumps between systems.”
“Yeah, I think so. I mean… sure, why not, right?”
Liao shook her head, glancing over to Grégoire. “What do you think, Captain?”
James grinned widely, admiring the glowing, blue light show. “I think I regret turning this thing over to your crew. Having it here, with people who know how to operate it, makes the Beijing the de facto flagship.”
Liao turned fully towards the dark-skinned captain, putting her hands on her hips, her grin stretching from ear to ear.
“Then I guess you slackers on the Tehran will have to pick up your game.”
Operations
TFR Beijing
Four days later
Saara pointed toward the map. She spoke, and Liao translated. The others in the command staff were picking up a few words, and Lieutenant Yu had distributed a very basic Telvan dictionary in English and Chinese, which was required reading for them all. Slowly but surely, Liao had to translate less.
“Saara says this system is a dead system. The star there has long since extinguished, leaving nothing but barren husks orbiting its meagre gravitational field. They call it Kor’Vakkar, The Gateway of Eternal Ash, and it’s an important stronghold for the Toralii Alliance. They use it as a rally point, a resupply venue, and a shipyard. We call it the Hades system.” Liao gave a slight grin. “And it’s completely staffed by Toralii Alliance crew. They’re the bad Toralii, in case you haven’t been paying attention.”
There were a few chuckles around the room, including from Saara.
“A valuable target,” observed Lieutenant Yu. “I’m guessing we’re going there.”
Saara spoke again, and Liao nodded to her. “Right.” Then, to the others, “She says it’s standard protocol that whenever the Toralii Alliance commit a strike in this sector, they rally their assault from this system. It’s difficult to jump to and, accordingly, easier to defend. However, it’s a central point of failure. Saara believes that if we strike here first, we may strike a blow crippling their ability to project force, in an organized sense, for some time.”
Lieutenant Jiang nodded in agreement. “Time is what we need, but there’s the broader picture of what to do next. So we buy ourselves a few months, or a year—what then?”
“The plan is,” Liao began, “to hit the Toralii hard and hit them fast. We go in with a single ship and immediately nuke the hell out of anything we see. We fire everything we’ve got, as fast as we can, and we burn down as much of the Toralii’s barn as possible. We then sow gravity mines to disable the system, leaving the last mine on a time-delay, and we jump out.”
“Sounds simple enough, Captain,” offered Lieutenant Yu. “So what’s the catch?”
Liao flashed a sardonic grin. “We don’t call it Hades for nothing. This is a dead system. About a hundred thousand years ago, the star went supernova. The inner planets were consumed by the star’s expanding mass while the midrange ones were severely irradiated and baked to a crisp, the solar winds blowing their atmospheres clean off. When the star’s mass finally collapsed, the outer planets couldn’t be held by the star’s much-reduced gravity and were flung away, becoming rogue planets. All this shifting of planets, loss of mass, and general chaos led to anarchy in the system. Every planet’s orbit is unstable, so it’s practically impossible to jump into the system without up-to-date charts.”
Yu nodded. “Which we have.”
“Yes,” said Commander Iraj, “which we have. Lucky us.”
Lieutenant Yu raised his hand. Liao indicated he wouldn’t have to do that, so he put it down again. “Captain, do we even know what’s on the other side?”
Liao shook her head. “Not really. Saara’s been there once, but it’s not as though she could see much. That’s why we’re going to fly in there and shoot as soon as we see a target.”
Yu spoke again. “What about the Sydney and the Tehran?”
“The Sydney is going to be busy laying gravity mines in the Sol system to prevent a counterattack, so they won’t be coming. No friendly fire that way, and only one ship to jump out if things go sour. We are, however, overstocked on nukes and rail gun slugs. We’re jumping in with our missile tubes loaded. All we have to do is open the tubes and fire. As for the Tehran, well… although Fleet Command believed it would be better if we send just one ship on this mission, the good captain had other plans.”
Liao nodded to James, who spoke next. “I certai
nly did. The Tehran will be jumping to support the Beijing’s assault, but to a different jump point. We’re hoping the two ships can create enough carnage covering two jump points to knock out everything of worth in the system. We don’t anticipate their assets to be spread out. They’re not expecting an attack, and spacing apart their assets would make their defences much more solid but would also hamper the facility’s main purpose of resupply.”
The crew digested the plan in silence. Liao was quite happy to let them think.
Iraj spoke up. “Any questions?”
Rowe, who had been uncharacteristically silent the entire briefing, coughed politely. “Yeah. What am I gonna do?”
Iraj regarded her. “From the technology recovered from Saara’s fighter and the wreck of the Forerunner, what do you have that we can use?”
“The blue goo is already in use on the ship. It was a simple compound to make because we had a sample. We’re using it as further insulation on the nuke reactors, to keep the heat down. It’s also used on the Wasp strike craft.”
Iraj nodded. “Any luck with their weapons?”
“Nope,” said Rowe, “They’re tricky to get right. Sorry. We’re still working on it.”
“Keep us informed.”
With no other business, Liao gave a curt nod and dismissed them all to their tasks. Soon it was just Grégoire, Iraj, and her in the room; the three of them stared down at the table, a picture of the star chart displayed upon it, including the jump coordinates.
Grégoire spoke first. “Lots of guesswork in this plan.”
Liao nodded. “Can’t say I disagree, but sometimes you just have to roll the dice and take an opportunity when one comes along.”
Grégoire gave a playful smirk. “Hey, I’ll be with you, you know. If you get into trouble, don’t worry. I’ll jump out at the first sign of trouble.”
Iraj gave a chuckle. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Captain.” He stretched his back, yawning. “With your leave, Captain Liao, my shift ended hours ago. I wouldn’t mind some rack time.”
Liao nodded, and the man left, leaving the two of them alone. With just her and James occupying the whole briefing room, the tone softened.
There was something on Melissa's mind, however.
“James, why are they sending the Beijing, anyway? I’m sure the Sydney is clamouring for some action by this point. They must be champing at the bit. We’ve been the hero enough. I would have thought… for morale…”
James shrugged. “It had to be someone. It might as well be you.”
“I suppose it has to be someone. Also, we’re the ones with the Toralii computer, so if we need to recalculate for any reason, we’ll need it. That, and the Sydney’s mechanical problems mean, well, you know.” It was a concession by Melissa, and she didn’t make it easily.
A brief silence as the two regarded each other. Finally, James spoke up. “I mean, there’s all that… and something else. I wouldn’t trust anyone else by my side when the shots start flying.”
Melissa blinked a couple of times, letting that bit of information settle in. “I… I’m touched. But wait. Wait. You specifically requested the Beijing instead of the Sydney? Just because I’m in command?” Realisation dawned. “Because of me?”
James nodded, smiling softly. “That’s right. Called in a favour with command, and as I said, they had to send someone. You’ve had some combat experience against the Toralii scout ship, and Fleet Command is grooming you for Captain. You just need a little bit more on your CV, that’s all. I want you to succeed—I want you to make Captain—so I pulled a few strings. Don’t get me wrong, the Sydney’s a fine ship, but—”
Melissa was gripping the edge of the conference room table so hard her knuckles began to turn white. Her voice was icy. “But you thought you’d do me a favour. You thought you’d help me out, give me the choice assignment because we’ve shacked up together. Is that it? Is that how it was?”
James frowned, straightening his back. “Yes. I did you a favour. I helped your career because I care about you. What’s the problem with that?”
Melissa leaned forward, hissing slightly, barely able to contain her rapidly mounting rage. “The problem is that I am not your whore, James, to be paid for services rendered! I fought hard to get where I am—I fought hard to become an officer—and while I may have had some extraordinary luck, I’ve also earned this command. I do not need your favours. I do not need your help!”
Commander Sheng had referred to her as James’s whore before, an insult she had dismissed as childish and incorrect. It seemed his words were coming back to haunt her.
James’s face clouded over, and he frowned slightly, tilting his head to one side. “I didn’t mean to offend—”
“Oh, of course you didn’t.” Melissa’s voice dripped with acid. “Fuck, James, this isn’t some small thing, you know? This is starting to get dangerous. A pretty little string of pearls slipped around the neck of an officer you’re fucking is one thing, but if you’re starting to give her the choice assignments, starting to help out her career by making tactically unsound decisions, then that’s a whole other kettle of fish. That’s a serious problem! People are going to notice this kind of thing!”
“Look, nobody will notice. The Beijing is very capable; you’ve proven that over and over—”
“I’ve been lucky.” Liao hated to say it, but it was true. “The Sydney’s CO—Matthew Knight? He’s been a naval Captain for years. He was one of the rising stars in Operation New Dawn, and from all accounts he is one of the best. He has real, genuine experience in real combat since he served in Iraq. Further, the Sydney is holding the lion’s share of the nukes at this point. They’re carrying about fifty more warheads than we are, which means that we’re going to unload the nukes from the Sydney and then ship them over to an identical ship that we’re going to send instead, led by someone who's seen combat exactly once and been in command for a few months.”
Crossing her arms, Melissa regarded the man, her face stamped with a deep frown. “There’s no logic in sending the Beijing instead of the Sydney.”
James blinked. “All of that is true, but there are justifications for having the Sydney step aside for this one and putting in the Beijing. They’ve had a history of mechanical trouble, and we need our most reliable ship for this operation. The Sydney needs to complete its mine-laying operation to make sure, once and for all, that the problems with her systems are fixed.” He held up his hands. “I promise you, nobody’s said anything about you going instead of Knight and they won’t, because there’s a good reason—”
“But not the best reason!”
James leaned forward slightly, trying to placate the furious woman. “It’s a reason, and it’s good enough! I want this operation to succeed as much as you do, you know, and that’s why I want you with me! I want you to fight with my ship!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re getting all offended at this. I’m putting you in danger! How would you feel if I was pushing you to the safe spots, huh? How would you feel if I kept you from combat?”
Melissa folded her arms defensively, her face screwed up in anger. Her tone was so cold it could have tempered an overloading nuclear reactor.
“If you’d done that, Captain, I would have punched you in the head instead of just telling you that we’re through. This… ‘arrangement’… we’ve got ends. Now.”
Grégoire stared, his eyes growing wide, and then his vision narrowed. “As you wish. Consider the arrangement void.”
He turned his back to her, staring at the crew roster drawn up on the wall.
“Dismissed, Commander.”
“Yes, sir.”
Turning on her heel, Liao marched out of the conference room and down the corridors of the Beijing. She barely noticed the passage of time as she travelled. The surprised looks on the faces of her crew went unnoticed as she stormed her way down the ship’s passages, taking the most direct path to her quarters. A junior crew member tried to hail her wi
th a report, but she tersely told him to take it to Commander Iraj instead.
Once inside her quarters, the mask, a picture of anger and righteous indignation, began to crack. Liao angrily pulled off her belt and threw it into a corner. Her boots were tugged off and hurled haphazardly on top of her belt, and then, still wearing the body of her uniform, she threw herself onto her bed and stuffed a pillow over her face.
She desperately did not want to cry. Not over this man, not over any man, but Melissa Liao was not made of stone. James’s actions were a sting to her pride; they hurt her all the more with their noble intentions.
Soon, despite her best efforts to summon all her strength and courage, the iron wall that held back her emotions bowed and broke away. The pillow stuffed against her face muffled her quiet sobs.
Chapter XI
Into Hell’s Maw