Lacuna: The Spectre of Oblivion

by David Adams

  “Yeah, I know, still. Orders are orders, and those orders say that there’s no such thing as the Rubens.”

  “Right.” Peng clicked his tongue. “We can’t talk about something everybody fucking kn-”

  The triple-beep of a loud alarm cut him off, followed by a cry from the radar operator.

  “Incoming jump! A vessel has appeared in the Lagrange point!”

  There was nothing on the schedule for that day. The station shuddered as the shockwave from the jump passed over them. The Commanding Officer, Iranian Captain Lale Harandi, stepped towards Peng’s screen. “Move to condition one and sound general quarters. Report, Mister Peng.”

  Peng’s screen flashed information at him. He scanned over what the readings were telling him.

  “No IFF transponder detected, Captain. Vessel is 200,000 tonnes, bright appearance on thermals, identical in size and configuration to a Toralii cruiser. No sign of strike craft.”

  Harandi’s response was immediate. “All reactors to full power, load missile launch tubes, and prepare to fire. Ready rail guns. Mister Kelly, signal fleet command.”

  Peng’s fingers darted over the keyboard. “Tubes one through fifteen ready, Captain, with rail gun turrets alpha through charlie standing by.” A decompression alarm at the airlock drew his attention. “Captain, the Sydney has disengaged from dock without authorisation. They’re moving into an attack position on the contact.”

  Captain Harandi just nodded. “Ignore the Sydney for now. What’s the contact doing?”

  “Just sitting there, Captain. I’m reading no strike craft, no weapons fire, nothing.”

  “Captain,” said Walker, “incoming transmission from the Toralii vessel. Coming in on 121.5 MHz. Recording.”

  121.5 MHz was the standard frequency the Toralii used to initiate communication with Human forces. Technically, it was a distress frequency, which also made it useful since it was almost always kept clear.

  “Play it through the speakers,” Captain Harandi ordered, tapping her fingers on the back of Peng’s chair. “But keep a lock on them. ROE is clear; the moment they fire anything, or launch any craft, we nuke them and shut off the jump point until cleanup takes care of the wreckage.”

  The speakers crackled slightly and the Operations centre of the blockade was filled with a thin, robotic voice that spoke in broken, halting English as though being machine translated.

  “Attention Terran type two outpost. This is Warbringer Avaran of the Toralii Alliance Vessel Seth’arak. Respond on frequency Four. Two. Eight. Point. Six.”

  The Seth’arak. Everyone knew the Seth’arak and Warbringer Avaran. It was the first real, straight out engagement between Humans and the Toralii navy. It ended with the Tehran being crippled and captured by the Toralii, with both other ships taking severe damage.

  The message began to repeat. Captain Harandi nodded to Walker. “Open a channel on that frequency. Let’s talk to them.”

  There was a moment’s pause as the frequency was changed. “Four two eight point six, Captain. Open in three, two, one…”

  Silence.

  “This is Captain Harandi of Cerberus Station, acting under Task Force Resolution. You are in violation of the Sol system’s sovereignty. Engage your jump drive and leave this system, or you will be destroyed. No further warnings will be issued on any frequency.”

  [“This is Warbringer Avaran.”] The voice spoke Toralii and was heavy and slow, as though burdened with some great task. [“On behalf of the Toralii Alliance, we have come to negotiate a cease-fire between our peoples.”]

  The Operations room was filled with a shocked silence. Harandi gestured to mute the audio and Walker tapped a key. “Audio off, Captain.”

  Peng turned in his chair, giving voice to what was on everyone’s mind.

  “Does… does this mean we win?”

  *****

  Broadsword Archangel

  En route to the Earth-Moon L1 Lagrange point

  Two hours later

  Liao was glad that she finally got to catch a ride in the Archangel. Technically the Search and Rescue ship for the Beijing, the Archangel had performed a daring move and rescued her CAG, Alex Aharoni, from capture by the Toralii. That incident had weighed on her mind for some time. The rational thing to do would be to leave a single ejected pilot behind when the entire ship was in danger, but Ben had come up with a solution that had allowed him to be saved. Despite the fact that a few days later Ben had annihilated a colony full of unsuspecting Toralii civilians, Liao still felt a little gratitude for Ben’s part in the rescue.

  Ben had saved a life, then taken fifty thousand others. It seemed strange to be grateful to him.

  “Do you think there was some credibility to the Toralii threat, then?”

  James shrugged. “I don’t know. But they knew about it well before they pulled their embassy, so… why would they wait for months then withdraw without a word?”

  Liao leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “I don’t like it. The Kel-Voran love a fight… For them to just up and leave doesn’t make any sense.”

  “They like a fight,” James corrected, “but they dislike grossly unbalanced battles. They’re not suicidal.”

  Liao snorted and ran her hands through her hair. “Great. So staying on Earth is suicidal. What a vote of confidence from our new allies.”

  James chuckled. “Hopefully, when we rendezvous with the Tehran, they’ll have some damn answers for us.”

  The intercom crackled and the voice of Lieutenant First Class Medola, the navigator and radio operator of the Broadsword Archangel, filled the hold where they were sitting.

  “Attention passengers and crew, stand by for jump.”

  The proliferation of the reactionless drives had proved to be revolutionary when it came to space travel. When Liao had first assumed her command, it took three days to get to Luna, Earth’s moon, via conventional rocket. These days, a Broadsword could do it in a matter of hours.

  She casually clipped on her seatbelt, glancing to her side to check for the fifty thousandth time that her baby was safe. She continued sleeping soundly and oblivious to the journey taking place around her. She would be the youngest Human in orbit, the youngest Human to experience microgravity, a number of firsts. But her mind was not on any of those things.

  The artificial gravity switched off and Liao felt queasy. Fortunately, James rested his hand on her thigh and she immediately begun to feel a little better. The baby, meanwhile, just gurgled slightly, yawning in her sleep, but otherwise didn’t react.

  Without an outside perspective, the jump was imperceptible to those experiencing it aside from a faint hum of energy. Liao, whose normal post was at Operations deep within the much larger Beijing, rarely heard that sound. It felt good, in a way, to be closer to the ship’s surface, more in touch with how it moved and sounded.

  “Jump complete.”

  Gravity slowly began to return. There was the briefest of pauses and Liao reached down to unclasp her seatbelt, but the gunship pitched hard to port, almost throwing her across the cargo bay. She was suddenly very grateful that she hadn’t removed her seatbelt. The baby began to wail, and Medola’s voice returned, this time charged with energy.

  “Contact, twelve o’clock level. All crew, condition one, weapons tight. Prepare for emergency jump.”

  Liao and James exchanged a panicked glance and undid their restraints, moving as one to free themselves. Whenever the jump drive was engaged, even a small one as found on the Broadswords, it heated up. As a ship in space was a closed system, the only way to get rid of that excess heat without boiling the crew alive was to let it slowly radiate away. An emergency jump, though, would flush coolant into the jump drive so they could get away sooner. This brute-force approach lead to the very real possibility of uneven cooling of the spherical jump drive. If it cracked, even microscopically, this could result in an imprecise jump at best and, at worst, the risk of catastrophic failure.

  Being at the rear
of the craft when the rearward-mounted jump drive exploded would be very bad.

  Liao unclipped the baby and, together, the three of them moved forward towards the cockpit, hands on the railings in case the ship pitched again, Liao holding the infant with one arm. When they reached the thick metal hatchway, Liao heard it unlock with a faint click. She pulled it open with her free hand.

  “Lieutenant Medola, what the hell is going—”

  Through the perspex of the Broadsword’s cockpit, she saw a Toralii cruiser, a ship she recognised as the Seth’arak, docked with the Sydney and surrounded in a swarm of strike craft.

  “—… on.”

  The Broadsword’s radio crackled faintly and an Australian accented woman’s voice came over the line. “Broadsword Archangel, this is Cerberus Station. Transmit identification code.”

  Medola tapped her console. “Code as follows: bravo-zero-zero-seven-one-xray-oscar-eight-romeo-alpha.”

  “Confirming code, break. Confirmed.”

  “Cerberus Station, Archangel. Affirmative, break.” Medola lifted the talk key, then twisted in her seat. “You want me to ask them what the hell’s going on, sir?”

  Both Liao and James nodded.

  “Request sitrep, Cerberus Station. I’m staring at the arse end of a Toralii cruiser that’s really not meant to be here.”

  “Broadsword Archangel, Cerberus Station, interrogative. Do you have Captain James Grégoire and Commander Melissa Liao aboard?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Archangel, confirmed. You’re cleared to bring Liao and Grégoire aboard the station using the main hangar bay. Be advised, Archangel, situation is as follows: we’re dealing with a diplomatic situation at the moment. The presence of Captain Grégoire and Commander Liao are requested in the main conference room immediately.”

  “Rodger, Cerberus Station. Out.” Medola closed the line.

  “Me?” Liao asked, staring in confusion at James. “What the hell do they want me for?”

  *****

  Cerberus Station

  Fifteen minutes later

  Cerberus Station was a tiny outpost, home to only fifty souls that would take shifts between manning the blockade and the Mars colony below them. Finding the single conference room in the facility was easy; Liao and James made their way there straight from the hangar bay, taking the most direct route through cramped corridors full of people all trying to go the same way.

  The arrival of the Toralii ship had caused quite a stir. Captain Harandi met them half way to the room.

  “What’s going on?” Asked Liao, a question that elicited a shrug from the Persian captain.

  “Who knows? He came aboard with his marines. Said he wanted to speak to you and only you. He’s ignored our diplomats and barely said two words to me, just that he wanted to see you.”

  Liao frowned. “Me?” She glanced to James. “And I thought I was just here as an adviser.”

  “Your reputation precedes you,” said Harandi, reaching up and adjusting her green headscarf. “He’s waiting in conference room two.”

  “Very well then. I guess we’ll go see what he wants.”

  The way became more and more congested as they drew closer.

  “Make a hole. Coming through.” James lead the charge, clearing the path for Liao who clutched her baby close. The infant squealed and threatened to cry again, but a few gentle pats on her back brought her to calm once more.

  A crewman pulled open the hatchway, and James and Liao stepped through, moving into the long, rectangular room filled to the brim with people.

  And Toralii.

  Three stood at the back of the room wearing the full-body, armoured spacesuits, with empty weapon holsters and gaps in their suits where their inbuilt energy weapons had been removed. The suits were also painted black with gold trim, a colour scheme as yet unseen by her. Normal marines wore red, their commanders, white. As with the others, though, their faces were obscured by the strange material that served as a visor, which appeared to be solid, but Liao knew was actually some form of liquid held in shape by unknown forces.

  It was the seated Toralii before them, though, that immediately drew her attention. An older, white-furred Toralii with patches of black streaked with grey sat with his arms neatly resting in his lap. A thick, jagged scar ran down his face, exposing the slightly purplish Toralii skin flushed with their strange purple blood. He was wearing what Liao could only interpret as the Toralii equivalent of a dress uniform, a lavish, gold affair decorated with silver strips and multicoloured ribbons.

  Liao, still cradling her child, gave him a curt nod. “Warbringer Avaran, we finally meet face to face.”

  A green light flashed on a metal device attached to his right ear the moment Liao spoke, ceasing when she had finished. As though understanding her completely, Avaran began to speak. [“Indeed,”] he said, [“but had I known how far your reputation would spread, Captain Liao, perhaps things may have been done differently between our people.”]

  Liao pulled back a seat and, somewhat awkwardly with the baby in her arms, slid into it. She was acutely aware of how ridiculous she looked; the Toralii had gone all out on the pomp and ceremony, with their most official clothes and, presumably, elite guards. She was wearing slacks and a baggy T-shirt and carrying around a gurgling infant. James, taking a seat to her left, was at least wearing his standard uniform. Harandi took the seat to her right.

  She couldn’t help noticing, though, despite the vast gulf between what the Toralii were wearing and her own appearance, that Warbringer Avaran regarded her with something approaching respect.

  “I wish a great many things would be different between our people,” Liao stated. “Although before today, I would have said that the situation had escalated well beyond the point of rational discourse, I’m glad to see that this assessment was in error.”

  [“I fail to see how you could be surprised at this turn of events, Captain Liao, Slayer of Varsian the Immortal, when your agents have us so completely overwhelmed and your victories are so total.”]

  “Agents?”

  Avaran’s eyes narrowed slightly, betraying a hint of aggravation. [“Coy, Captain Liao, but I think at this point, candour would appear to be your best ally. I speak, of course, of your pilfered technology, the ship you stole from us, and of our own weapons turned against us.”]

  The Rubens, Liao suddenly realised, the Toralii vessel James mentioned as being captured and turned over to the Human forces.

  “Well, we have been forced to this course of action by the Toralii restriction against jump drive use.”

  [“A restriction you have flouted at every turn, to our chagrin. Had the Kel-Voran not resumed hostilities against us, we would have crushed you long ago.”]

  “Regrettable for you, then, that they have.”

  Avaran gave a terse nod. [“So it would appear, yes.”] He fixed his gaze on her, lowering his voice somewhat as he spoke. [“But we are not here to discuss hypothetical situations, Commander Liao.”]

  “To be perfectly honest,” Liao said, “I’m not sure what we are here to discuss, except that the operations of the Rubens are obviously causing you some distress. I fail to see how that’s our problem.”

  Avaran’s lips curled up in a strange kind of smile. [“I can understand that feeling, Commander Liao. But the… inconvenience… it has caused has been significant, including the loss of Belthas IV.”]

  “It is my understanding that the Rubens has destroyed a grand number of your ships. I am pleased that they appear to have stung you in a tender place. It is, of course, within our power to cease the attacks, but this is not something that we shall do without cost. I'm sure you understand.”

  [“Ships?”]

  Confused, Liao nodded her head. “Uhh… yes. I assume you’re here to ask us to cease the attacks upon the Toralii supply lines, yes?”

  Avaran regarded her, not answering right away. For a moment Liao thought that perhaps he was waiting on the translation hardware to catc
h up with her, or was thinking of exactly the right way to word what he was going to say. The scarred Toralii’s face was unreadable as he studied her, and Liao grew uncomfortable under his continued gaze.

  “We are open to negotiations,” she said, trying to keep dialogue open, “and we would prefer peaceful coexistence to our current situation. But we will not surrender our jump drive technology.”

  [“I’m not sure we are communicating accurately,”] Avaran said at last, carefully choosing his words and speaking slowly and evenly. [“Whatever operations you are running against Toralii Alliance shipping networks are of absolutely no consequence to the Alliance at all. I am not even aware of any. Between jump mishaps, defection, Kel-Voranian pirates and countless other hazards which are a part of the inherent dangers of travelling through space, ships are lost every single day. I am not concerned with… whatever schemes you may be executing against our logistical infrastructure or whatever success you may have earned there. I am primarily concerned with Belthas IV, the forge world, and the occupying force currently holding it.”]

  Magnet’s force had taken a planet? James had described the repurposed Rubens as being the same configuration as Saara’s original vessel. A small, fighter-carrying, scout ship that could hold, at most, five hundred soldiers. The likelihood of them being able to garrison an entire planet seemed extremely low. A subtle glance at James, then Captain Harandi, revealed that they wore thinly disguised expressions of confusion.

  “I’m… certain we can work out some kind of arrangement. May I confer with my colleagues for a moment while we discuss the matter?”

  [“Of course,”] said Avaran, sitting back in his chair. [“I shall remain here.”]

  “Very well. Captain Harandi, Captain Grégoire.”

  *****

  Liao, James and Harandi stood and made their way out of the room. Liao handed her baby to one of the nearby crewmen, then the marines cleared the corridor. The three of them formed a huddle and Harandi spoke first.

  “Does anyone have the slightest clue what the fuck he’s talking about?”