by Adams, David
Their deaths would serve as further fuel for his anger.
["Show me the Beijing,"] Avaran snarled between his teeth. The hologram above melted away, showing the blue ball of Velsharn, closer now than ever.
The screen magnified, then magnified again. The optics on the Seth'arak were second to none in the fleet; its data cores worked to extrapolate and aggregate the imagery it was shown. The screen slowly faded from white to reveal the hull of a Human ship, nestled into a verdant valley, surrounded by structures.
The Humans, like some kind of vermin infestation, had already resettled on a Toralii world. The Telvan must have permitted this. The Humans would never have the courage to erect even temporary structures without their permission.
He had long suspected the Telvan of holding treasonous thoughts, but this in his mind confirmed it. Even if the Telvan were biologically Toralii, his "cousins" had made their loyalties clear and stood beside voidwarp criminals, the lesser species who threatened the very fabric of reality with their folly.
So if there were any Telvan on that planet, they too would die.
["Time to effective firing range?"]
Vican did not immediately answer. Instead, he and Baelica appeared to be working on something. He strode over to them.
["Warbringer,"] said Vican. ["Our constructs have reached the Human vessel. They are cutting their way into the boarding clamps now and are preparing to remove their device."]
The image on the holographic display showed the constructs slicing into the mouth of the Human ship, sparks flying into space. ["Have them weld the Human ship's hull to our own instead,"] said Avaran.
["Why? This will take longer, and the ship will still be attached…"]
["I do not want them to escape."] Avaran clenched his fists, forcing his hackles down. ["Those Humans killed many Toralii with their trickery. They must pay in blood."]
Outside, the insectoid constructs fired globs of liquid from their arms, the goo hardening almost instantly and joining the two ships permanently. With their work complete, both constructs skittered up the hull of the Human vessel. They cut into the cockpit, their high-heat plasma torches melting the metal of the intruder, slicing away a triangular hole from their cockpit. A rush of air began blowing everything inside out, and the construct reached in with a long arm. It grabbed the Human pilot and, with a compression of its clamps, crushed the head of his spacesuit. Blood flowed into the cockpit, then out the hole in the Human vessel.
The constructs cut three more triangles and then their mechanical bodies were able to fit inside. They clambered through the insides of the Human vessel, cutting their way through bulkhead after bulkhead, finding each one of the space-suited Humans and crushing the life from them.
Avaran counted them. Seven. Seven Humans hardly seemed sufficient for all the deaths they had caused.
["Have the constructs cut the ship free then push it away. Without crew it should be an easy target."]
They did so. The Human ship floated aimlessly, its hull splattered in freshly applied blood. Then the Seth'arak's guns spoke, and the ship evaporated.
Pathetic Humans. Pathetic, but resourceful, Humans. So stubborn in their reluctance to lie down and die. ["Inform me if any more of their assault craft come within firing distance."]
The holographic display changed hue. They were receiving a transmission.
["Speak,"] said Avaran, and the Human's voice returned.
"This is Captain Anderson to the Seth'arak. Your ship is damaged, Warbringer Avaran. Surrender yourself now, or our remaining ships will focus their fire on your cruiser until you are dead."
A pathetic gamble. The Humans's weapons were ineffective and their forces in disarray, while the Toralii forces had a fleet of cruisers behind them. The Humans must have known they were doomed for them to try something like this.
He considered sending a message to the Humans. To gloat over their defeat and revel in his victory, but his training and experience warned him against it.
Win first, brag later.
["Adjutant Vican, how long until the Beijing is within firing range?"]
["We are approaching maximum firing distance, Warbringer,"] said Vican. ["At this stage we should be able to penetrate most of the ship's mass. It will be less effective—"]
["It will be enough."] He touched his scar again. It hurt like the memory of his ship's hull breaking apart, of his purple blood mixing with his fur, permanently and invisibly staining it. He could almost smell it. The seared flesh. The scorched electronics. ["Set the dispersion beam to maximum penetration to compensate; it should be enough to cut through their hull."]
["Dispersion beam configured to maximum cohesion."] Vican looked at him. ["Ready to fire on your command."]
["Destroy them."]
Avaran roared, a triumphant, eager cry as the beam of light leapt away from his ship, spearing down towards the planet, towards the TFR Beijing, bringing death to them all.
Operations
TFR Beijing
Surface of Eden
"Incoming!" roared Liao, a sound almost drowned out by the Toralii weapon striking home.
The entire hull reverberated with the force of the impact, the ship shuddering, rivets and metal plating screaming in chorus as the Toralii worldshatter device tore them apart.
Above her, the roof of Operations glowed with a dull crimson light. She stared at it in bewilderment, refusing to believe something had burrowed that far into the ship. Then a wave of light cut through the hull and burst into the room. The noise of the impact was so loud, the blast wave so powerful, that it was deafening.
The heat just missed her. A white wall of energy passed through the middle of Operations, slicing effortlessly through multiple layers of reinforced, charged hull plating, deck space, and flesh. The impact blew Liao off her feet, a wave of pressure blasting her into the air, sending her body flying into an unyielding bulkhead.
The screeching faded, the noise of the foghorn faded, the voices of her crew faded. Liao could hear nothing at all, simply a profound ringing in both ears. The world around her was silent. Peaceful, even.
She lay there for a time, barely conscious and partially covered in debris. Sleep could come easily to her; all she had to do was close her eyes and let it take everything away.
A part of her, the same part that had jolted her back to awakening after the attack on Sydney, remembered that to sleep would be to die. Her mind slowly dredged up the details from nothing, from the sweet embrace of oblivion.
She was in the middle of a battle.
Groggily, Liao brushed some of the debris off and reached with her left arm to steady herself. She started to bring her right down with it, but her hand flopped uselessly on the deck, bent at a wrong angle.
Her right arm was broken just below the elbow.
Bone protruded from her skin, not white as she expected, but yellow. Blood poured out onto the deck, a crimson pool smaller than she thought it should be. She stared at her blood as it slowly spread. The skin around the wound was singed, little embers buried into her flesh slowly fading to black as the heated flesh cooled. The scorched and withered edge of the bone was a blackened, bleeding husk.
The break burned with a deep pain that grew as she propped herself up on the wound then used her left hand to pull herself up to her knees, fingers trembling.
Hsin's console was at the epicentre of the blast—all that remained now was a smoking, red-ringed hole boring straight down towards the ground. She stumbled more than walked to the edge, the heat washing over her even from her considerable distance.
The weapon functioned differently from how it had before. Before it had destroyed a whole city, but this time it left a hole scarcely fifteen metres wide. She leaned over the precipice, peering down.
At the bottom of her ship's well was a glowing red disc, molten metal and slag, superheated soil below that. It went down further than the ship could, right into the bedrock below, bored thirty metres or more into the plane
t's crust.
Raindrops splattered against the edges of the hole, each hissing as it touched the glowing edges. She slumped down to her knees, her vision swimming. Blood from her arm splashed against the hot metal, steam rising as it cooled. The rainwater turned the blood a soft pink colour in the moonlight.
It was raining inside Operations, and moonlight streamed in. Sliding over onto her back, Liao stared up at the giant hole in the ceiling. Through the tunnel bored straight through her ship, through a gap burned through the cloud cover, the moon of Velsharn hovered above them like a stone waiting to fall, surrounded by sky and a pocket of stars.
The rain hit her face, cool and refreshing, and she smiled despite it all. She was at peace here. Aside from the ringing in her ears, everything was quiet and calm. Water sprinkled down all around her, a gentle cascade that washed away the blood and the smell of burning metal and flesh. It was shock and concussion, she knew that, but she embraced it. The pain faded.
She had wanted peace and prepared for war. They had used the Lucifer's Gas, and Summer had been so excited the Cracker had worked. They had used their railguns. They'd used every trick they had, and she'd earned only a giant, gaping tear straight through her ship.
This was much better. This was how she wanted to die, not sobbing in her office. She wanted to meet her end in battle.
Staring up at the stars, waiting for a death that would be as swift as it was painless, was just as good. Everything would be better in just a moment.
Strong arms picked her up, carrying her away from the sky, and the world slowly slipped away.
CHAPTER X
Countdown to Annihilation
*****
Corridor
TFR Beijing
Eden
Surface of Velsharn
SHE WANTED TO SLEEP, BUT the voices wouldn't let her. Voices babbling in an alien language, forcing her attention, jolting her from her lethargy.
["I require medical assistance! Medical officer, to me!"]
Saara's voice. The ringing in her ears almost drowned it out, smothering the words under the sound of bells. She opened her eyes. It was not time to die yet.
Feet stomped all around her as crew members rushed about, all moving one way. Her hearing was still impaired; the boots were distant and softer than they should have been, hardly audible as they struck the metal deck.
Nobody came to Saara's call, because either they couldn't understand her, or they were too busy. Or…
"You're using the wrong protocol," Liao murmured, an instinct brought on by a life in the military. "You're supposed to say…"
["Remain still, Captain Liao. I am attempting to obtain medical treatment for your injuries, but the current situation aboard is… chaotic."]
"No no, it's okay. It's fata'h."
["Fata'h?"] The confusion in Saara's voice was clear, and then clarity replaced it. ["Oh, you mean—no. I made that word up, Captain. It doesn't mean anything. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself. Forgive me, but I did not feel that end suitable for someone of your talents."]
Saara had lied to her, but in a good way. It was hard to be angry when she was bleeding so much.
"You're silly," she murmured. Her skin was cold all over. "You're a silly cat."
["You may call me what you wish, but we are evacuating the ship now. I am sorry."]
Evacuating? The term ran through her like a bolt of electricity, blasting away the fog from her mind. "Report," she gasped, breathing in a lungful of charred air. "Why are we leaving? We need to stay, to return fire—"
["Captain, you are no longer in Operations."]
"Where is Kamal?"
Saara looked up, avoiding her gaze. ["Missing, Captain."]
"What about James?"
["I do not know. He left to organise the evacuation."]
Liao was lifted again. She was not on a stretcher; Saara carried her in her large, fuzzy arms. Saara's observation was true, too. She had been lying in one of the corridors of the Beijing.
Her arm hurt. She stared down at the break, bandaged now, the bone still protruding just beyond the elbow, and the first twinges of pain began to make their voices heard.
"What happened to my arm?" It was a stupid question, but shock fogged her mind. Bone damage. Her training had told her that.
["It is broken, Captain."] Saara pushed past a crowd of people, her considerable size and bulk making the task easier. She was used to her crew working with her instead of against her, moving out of her way, but she understood it was unlikely they even realised Saara was carrying their CO. ["It was shattered in the blast. I do not know if you will keep the limb without medical assistance."]
Medical assistance. Saeed would be able to help her. Saeed always managed to help her. "Where are we going?"
["The Toralii Alliance is heavily engaged in orbit; however, there remains a risk that they will deploy their worldshatter device again, but on a broader dispersion."]
Why would they be moving down a corridor? It made no sense. "How's my ship?"
Saara's hesitation told her what she needed to know far more than her words did.
["Commander Iraj has issued an order to abandon ship. The Beijing's structural integrity has been compromised. Lieutenant Ling is working in Engineering, attempting to find some way to fire the missiles manually, to airburst the warheads to blind the Seth'arak's targeting system. This is, of course, a faint hope. Even if they are able, we are immobile. The Seth'arak will simply fire blind."]
"Good," said Liao. "Keep up the fight. The airburst thing is good. Make it happen. We might even be able to lift off using the emergency control systems. Relocate before they can fire again."
["The Beijing will not be going anywhere."] Saara's voice had an edge of finality to it. ["One thing is certain, the ship is lost."]
"Lost? No, it's just a hole—"
["The worldshatter device broke through the Operations centre. Reactor 2 is damaged and leaking coolant. There are fires on the lower decks. Miss Rowe is working to contain the damage but there is little hope of stabilising it before it goes critical."]
If the Beijing exploded with the tattered remnants of humanity crowded around it, there would be no survivors. Fewer still that would last in the face of continued Toralii assault.
"We need to get into the hills," said Liao. "There are caves—underground water. Big enough for thousands, maybe more. Tens of thousands if they go deeper than we think. They might even shield us from… an explosion. We can make it; it's only an hour. Less if we hurry…" Defeat started to creep back into her tone. She forced it out and pressed her broken arm against her side, trying to keep her blood inside her body. Liao had no time for the doubt, the pain, or the fear. Only action.
Rain hit her face again, and for a moment, she thought she was back in Operations. The chirping of songbirds, however, dispelled that illusion almost immediately.
"Where are we going?" Liao asked her again.
["I do not know."]
Liao looked up at the night sky, at the huge moon that shone through a break in the clouds. She could not see the ship that had fired at them—at this distance the ships were far too tiny to be seen—but a brief flash of light like far away lightning lit up the clouds. It had to be a nuclear blast. Several, in rapid succession.
["Spread out!"] said a Toralii voice, too masculine and far away to be Saara's. It was Jul'aran. ["Move away from the vessel!"]
"Everyone with me!" shouted Shepherd. "Carry those too sick or too wounded to move! We're making for the mountains!"
The voices were too quiet. Too many Humans, too many Toralii. Only handfuls would hear the orders in the confusion. A bright red light lit up the area; someone had ignited a flare, waving it around as a beacon.
Shepherd was cleverer than she had given him credit for. The crowd of people, numbering in the tens of thousands, began to follow him—a wave of humanity moving away from the doomed Beijing.
Liao kept her eyes on her ship, looking over Saara'
s shoulder as her Toralii friend carried her past the tree line. The huge billowing pillar of smoke poured out from the top of the vessel, and the ominous red glow from within shone up to the night sky, tainting the lowest of the clouds a faint crimson. Beyond the clouds, a white flash in the sky—similar to the nuclear fire, but different—heralded the activation another Toralii worldshatter device, but this time she did not have a ship to hide within.
They would not get far enough.
Reactor Room 2
TFR Beijing
Summer chewed on the end of her pen until she tasted ink in her mouth. She spat onto the deck, fascinated by the splatter pattern, a Rorschach blot on the otherwise clean deck that bore an uncanny resemblance to two beetles attacking each other with their giant horns.
No. She couldn't get distracted. She worked on a thousand things at once. Trying to remain calm and control her breathing to prevent her asthma from escalating, to focus her mind in the face of so many distractions and intellectual curiosities that could soak away her attention like a sponge, on keeping her foot from tapping endlessly as it did when she was excited.
And, well, keeping Reactor 2 from exploding and taking all that was left of her species with it.
"Coolant level?" Rowe asked to nobody. She was alone, working beside the last barrier that kept the volatile nuclear reaction in check. It was quiet. No alarms here. She had shut them off.
No distractions.