 
# **Contents**

Copyright Information

Blurb

Books

Dedication

Title Page

Map

Prologue

Act I

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Act II

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Act III

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Act IV

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Act V

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Epilogue

The Lacunaverse
Lacuna by David Adams

Copyright David Adams

2012
_"Never again attempt to develop this kind of technology."_

__

_It is with these words that an unknown alien attacker destroys the Earth cities of Tehran, Sydney and Beijing. Fifty million people die... and nothing is ever the same again._

__

_Some call them Demons, some call them Aliens, but to Chinese Naval Captain Melissa Liao they are the enemy. She is given command of one of three great warships built to fight the "demons", the TFR Beijing._

__

_Her task is simple. Find who attacked Earth and why... then stop them._

Book one of the Lacuna series.
_Books by David Adams_

__

**_The Lacuna series (science fiction)_**

__

_Lacuna_

_The Sands of Karathi_

_The Spectre of Oblivion_

_The Ashes of Humanity_

_The Prelude to Eternity_

_The Requiem of Steel (coming 2015)_

__

**_The Kobolds series (fantasy)_**

__

_Ren of Atikala_

_The Scars of Northaven_

_The Empire of Dust (coming 2015)_

__

**_Stories in the Kobolds universe_**

__

_The Pariahs_

_The Pariahs: Freelands (coming 2015)_

_Sacrifice_

__

**_Stories in the Lacuna universe_**

__

_Magnet_

_Magnet: Special Mission_

_Magnet: Marauder_

_Magnet: Scarecrow_

_Magnet Saves Christmas_

_Magnet: Ironheart (coming 2015)_

_Faith_

_Imperfect_

__

**_Other Books_**

__

_Insufficient_

_Insurrection_

_Injustice (coming 2015)_

_Who Will Save Supergirl?_

_Evelyn's Locket_

_––––  
A writer does not write in isolation,   
for we are the sum of their experiences.

It is from these experiences that inspiration comes.

I thank my family, who allowed me to be who I am,_

_My friends, who love me in spite of me,_

_And as always, to my readers._

_You made all this possible._

_Special thanks to UFOP: Starbase 118 for teaching me how to write,_

_and Shane Michael Murray,_

_my tireless proofreader, motivator and partner in crime.  
––––_
**Lacuna**

**空**

**白**

**__**

_"The history of advanced races meeting more primitive people on this planet is not very happy, and they were the same species. _

__

_I think we should keep our heads low."_

__

_\- Professor Steven Hawking_

Prologue

In Medias Res

*****

_Sydney, Australia_

_2029 A.D._

__

_Moments after the attack on Earth_

SENIOR LIEUTENANT MELISSA LIAO OF the People's Liberation Army awoke facedown in the dark, pinned under a shattered steel girder, concrete dust swirling all around her.

She was dimly aware of a dull pain in her feet that became sharper as her consciousness returned. Overcome by coughing, she found the dust made it impossible to open her eyes, causing a spike of panic. She remembered a flash of light and then the rumble of the collapsing building. Was she blind?

When she finally forced her eyes open, her vision was blurred, her eyes watery. In the inky, dusty blackness, she could barely make out the shattered blue jug of the office water cooler. Its frigid contents had spilled onto the carpet, creating a cold, wet fuzziness that was strangely more uncomfortable than the crushing weight of the debris pinning her to the floor.

Her survival instinct kicked in, and she began to cry out, "救命啊! 救命啊...!"

"Found one in here!" someone called from above her in accented English, and through the concussed shroud of her mind, it sounded familiar. The sound of rubble being shifted filtered through the debris.

Liao recognised the language, and she shouted back in kind, "My legs! My legs are stuck!"

"Melissa? Is that you?" The voice sounded surprised.

Her memory clicked; the voice belonged to Captain James Grégoire, a native of Belgium. He had met Liao in Sydney as an observer and guide. He had been nearby when the huge explosion had happened.

"Yes, it's me! _Hurry!"_

"We're working as fast as we can!"

More debris was shifted, and some weight lifted from her. As it did, Liao suddenly felt reassured. Very relaxed. Perhaps it was just a combination of the pressure relief, an obvious concussion, and blood loss, or perhaps it was Grégoire's voice that steadied her nerves.

Though they had met only earlier today, Liao thought Grégoire was a strikingly attractive man. With a deep voice, dark skin, and a bald head, he struck quite the imposing image, especially being so tall.

Of course, he was a naval captain in the European Union, and she a naval lieutenant in the Chinese People's Navy, so it could never work out. Nevertheless, they had struck up a fast friendship despite their vast ideological differences.

Liao coughed again, sending up clouds of concrete dust from the ruined carpet below her.

"What happened, James? A bomb?"

No answer came from above.

Liao began to panic again, the comforting feeling evaporating. "James!"

"Don't know," James finally replied, his tone grave. "Something really bad. You'll see when we get you out of there. Okay, you two, lift up that beam right there."

The pile of rubble shifted, followed by the rumble-clatter of debris as it resettled. Liao shrieked as a sharp piece of metal sliced open her hip.

His voice boomed above her. "Stop, stop, _stop!_ You're hurting her!"

"他妈的,好痛... 哟..."

Liao passed out again.

Noises above her and around. She came to as the metal was lifted. Soon she was stretchered away from the ruined building, fading in and out of awareness. Grégoire was by her side, holding her hand, his coal-black skin covered in chalk-white dust. A thick flow of blood trickled down the side of his head. Liao could hear rotor blades thumping nearby.

"Hang in there, okay? We've got a helicopter ready to take you to Canberra."

She blinked groggily, glancing down at the IV line attached to her arm. From her training, she knew the effects of morphine but had never experienced it. She felt as though she had just woken up from a particularly deep and relaxing sleep and felt no pain at all. Everything seemed distant and foggy.

"Why Canberra? Why not a local hospital?"

The Australian medics began loading her into the helicopter. Rolling her head weakly to the side, she saw a civilian craft bearing the logo of an Australian news outlet. Liao could see other medics, off to one side, tending to a dust-covered, hyperventilating redhead who was frantically sucking on an asthma inhaler. Their contact, Summer Rowe, had survived too—apparently against all odds.

"See for yourself," Grégoire said, his tone grim. He pointed out the side of the aircraft. The helicopter's blades began to chop faster, signalling imminent liftoff.

As their impromptu ambulance took to the air, she saw the extent of the devastation firsthand.

Barely a building stood. Nary a landmark had survived. She saw the Harbour Bridge—an icon of the beautiful city they had driven across only hours ago—lying splayed out on the harbour, its struts hanging limply in the water like the tendrils of some horrid beast. The Opera House was broken, its sail-like sweeps shattered like blackened, roasted eggshells.

The city centre and suburbs were naught but blackened, burned fields devoid of form. In the heart of Sydney, the skeletons of her tall skyscrapers, cut down like freshly mown grass, were the only structures taller than waist-high rubble. From her superior vantage point in the helicopter, Melissa could see hundreds of tiny dots moving around as people flooded into the debris-covered streets.

In terms of construction, however, aside from the occasional skeleton of a building, there was almost nothing left of the whole city.

A radio lying by her head crackled to life. A voice, unearthly and strange, came filtering through.

"永远不要再次尝试开发这项技 术."

The message repeated itself three times, and then the radio abruptly went silent.

Above them, seen through the thumping rotor blades, a bright, white flash burst in the sky and quickly faded like a firework exploding in the distance.

Grégoire's hand found hers again. "That sounded like Chinese?" he asked, his tone questioning rather than accusatory.

It _had been_ Chinese, heavily accented and barely clear. Liao hesitated a moment, trying to find the best translation through the fog of her sedated mind.

"Never again attempt to develop this kind of technology."

The remainder of the helicopter trip was conducted in silence. When they arrived and were debriefed, they learnt the demons—what the media called them, for lack of a better term—had not stopped with the Australian city. Tehran and Beijing, both research centres and both host to roughly the same technology as Sydney, had suffered the same fate.

In all, fifty million men, women, and children had died in an instant—and the world had changed forever.

Act I

Chapter I

****

Chekhov's Armoury

_*****_

_Sydney_

_Australia_

_Two hours earlier_

THE TYRES OF THE GIANT jet squealed as they touched down at Sydney airport. The giant Boeing 747 slowly rolled to a stop. As the aircraft taxied to the terminal, Liao mused angrily over the circumstances that had brought her there.

She was a career naval officer, and she had enlisted at a young age against the objections of her parents, who had wanted her to be a homemaker.

"If you aim for the mud and dirt," her father was fond of saying, "but manage to poke your head out a bit, you think you're doing pretty well, even if you're really just a fool covered in slop."

A dramatic pause there. Her father loved dramatic pauses, much to Liao's chagrin.

"But if you aim for the stars and only make it to the moon, then you've accomplished great things even if you don't recognise them."

Liao _wanted_ to accomplish great things. However, there she was, visiting one of the People's Republic of China's minor trading allies to inspect their so-called advanced technology. Most of it was cribbed from the Americans anyway or reverse engineered from Chinese designs—or so she had been told in the scintillatingly boring mission brief.

The passengers disembarked, and Liao collected her bag. She stepped out of the airport into the cool autumn air and breathed a sigh of relief. Fresh air...

"Senior Lieutenant Melissa Liao, right?"

Liao glanced over her shoulder, seeing a man in his midforties with a bald head and black skin standing nearby, his hands clasped behind him.

She turned to face him, nodding. "That's right."

"My name is Captain James Grégoire. I'm with the EU, here as the envoy to inspect the new technology."

She felt vaguely offended. "As am I, but I was under the impression it was a _private_ invitation. I didn't know it extended to other Australian allies."

He smiled and shook his head. "Well, yes and no. The Iranian Republic and the PRC have full inspection rights, as per the agreement, but the Australian Prime Minster feels that, in order to maintain diplomatic relations with the rest of the world, she should offer to permit the EU and the United States to send envoys."

Ugh, _Americans_. She rolled her eyes. "Well, where is he then?"

Grégoire laughed. "I'm guessing the U.S. didn't send anyone. With their economy the way it is, you _honestly_ think they could afford to send someone to check out the latest toys? They're still trying to fix things after the latest collapse."

Liao nodded along with him. America's financial troubles were well known in the international community—since September 11, an event still influential decades after the fact, they had taken on war after war, borrowing from the international community to finance their various struggles against imaginary enemies. They had subsequently tried to inflate their way out of their debt but had gone too fast, ruining countless lives. And their debtors had indexed the debt in Euros anyway, making the deliberate inflation pointless. Now their economy lay in ruins.

It was sad, but Liao's country had gone through similar trials. The Americans would recover—eventually.

She shrugged.

"I guess it's just you and me then. Do you have a ride, Captain?"

Grégoire nodded. "Yes, a hired car. Follow me." A pause. "And please, call me James."

The two made their way to a vehicle that was parked in a large, multilayer concrete area. Crowds of homeless people hassled them for money, but the two ignored the throng.

"No driver?" Liao observed dryly, taking in the view of the modestly priced vehicle.

"Times are tough," he replied with a shrug.

Liao glanced back at the airport building. Sydney's terminal had been completely renovated during the 2000 Olympic Games. Since then, economic pressures had prevented any significant work on the structure, and now it looked faded and worn.

They embarked, and James programmed their north-shore destination into the car's GPS and drove them out of the car park.

"Not as pretty as it used to be, is it?" Liao remarked, watching the city from the passenger window. Buildings looked run down and dilapidated, and many badly needed a coat of paint.

"Not quite."

"Reminds me of home," she remarked, rolling her shoulders. "The Western world used to be an enigma for the Chinese. Something to be admired, to be feared, to look down your nose at—all at once."

Grégoire turned a corner, the engine humming as the electric car picked up speed. "What happened?"

Liao shrugged again, clicking her tongue. "I guess we just realised that the West wasn't so different from us. And that while they had their successes, we hadn't had as much luck. Now it's our turn to succeed." She paused. A barely legible sign stood at the side of the road, crookedly but proudly proclaiming the suburb as Redfern.

"Don't worry," she continued, "I'm sure the Western powers will have another turn at greatness soon enough."

"Agreed," said Grégoire.

They chatted idly for the rest of the journey, and the mood picked up substantially. Given their backgrounds, politics wasn't something they agreed on, obviously, but they did both have naval careers, and that was something they could share. By the time they approached the harbour, the two were chatting like old friends, and Liao was recalling some of the war games she'd participated in.

"... but my first big piece of the action came during _Operation New Dawn_. I was the navigator for the number 404, _Han_ class. They're cramped and a little old, but they get the job done. Fun times."

Grégoire laughed. "Little Miss Melissa? A _submariner_?"

"Yep. I originally wanted a surface vessel, but I guess I got allocated to the _Han_ class. Fell in love with them, honestly." She smirked, leaning over and giving the man a playful shove.

"Hey, careful! I'm driving!"

He laughed and then reached down and flicked on the auto-drive. Instantly, the car took over the work, its electric engine humming along as it gracefully took the curve. Up ahead, the front of the Sydney Harbour Bridge loomed.

Grégoire cocked an eyebrow, examining the structure. "Pretty impressive, no?"

Liao shrugged, smirking. "We have bigger bridges back home."

The car changed lanes, bringing them closer to the outermost lane of the bridge, closest to the rail lines. The thick steel struts of the bridge flew past.

"The Opera House is pretty, though," Liao conceded.

There was a pause as the car carried them over the bridge.

"So, how'd you go from being the chief navigator on the 404, to..."

"To being the PRC's envoy to a minor trading ally who can't even afford a driver to pick her up?" Liao's tone was dry and pissy. "Well, my XO told me that I was picked because I spoke English and because I was pretty."

The car's tyres gave a gentle thump as it completed the trip across the bridge, changing lanes again. The Belgian man twisted in his seat, looking surprised. "He flat out _told you that_?"

"Even _today_ , __ there are still powerful people in Chinese society who believe that women are better off being homemakers."

James frowned. "A very outdated idea, even in China."

Liao nodded. "You'd _think_ so, but it's a product of the One-Child Policy, and I guess those kinds of ideas take a long while to stamp out. Women are allowed to serve in any branch of the Chinese armed forces, but we're expected to resign when we get married. You know, settle down, start the family—pump out the sole male heir. Spoil it rotten."

Her tone carried a kind of bitterness about it she felt entirely justifiable. The car flew through the suburbs, making its way to the research facility on the north shore.

Grégoire turned to face Liao again. "So, how'd _you_ go on _New Dawn_?"

Liao grinned. "Sunk some pretty impressive tonnage before they got us. Nineteen thousand tonnes—six ships. Not bad for a bunch of women and men from China, hey?"

With a grin, Grégoire waggled an eyebrow. "We got one ship." A pause, letting the gravity sink in. "One hundred thousand tonnes."

Liao sat up in her seat, eyes wide. _"_ What _..._?"

"My crew and I _nailed_ a _Nimitz-_ class aircraft carrier. Cost us the ship, but we did it."

Liao stared at her companion as the car drove itself between traffic, pulling up at one of the many sets of traffic lights that stood between them and their destination.

"废话."

_"_ No bullshit. Hand to my heart, we sank the USS _George H. W. Bush_. Her captain was... _bushed_ , you could say."

"Surely not. I would have heard about that. The Americans would be furious!"

"They were, but I think they kept it quiet internationally. Wouldn't you?"

Liao's face screwed up in doubt. The light changed, and the car took off again. "How...?"

Grégoire smirked, holding up his flat hand as though to mimic the aircraft carrier.

"Pretty simple, we pulled a _Thunder Child_ on them. You know? From H.G. Wells's _War of the Worlds_?"

Liao shook her head. "Actually, I've never read it."

James nodded anyway. "Well, I was in command of the F1004 _Leopold III_. We reported that we'd struck a mine and were disabled, then waited until the aircraft carrier was in range, and _rammed_ it when they arrived to take the crew prisoner."

James's hand motored along to his other pinkie, which crashed into its side. The hand overturned, pitched upwards, and dramatically sank. "At least, we shouted over the megaphone that we'd rammed them. _Actually_ ramming them would have been a bit tasteless."

Liao blinked. "Wouldn't that violate..."

"... _all kinds_ of rules?" James finished, nodding. "Pretty much every 'good conduct' rule in the book. The administrators of the war games disallowed our kill and 'refloated' the _Bush_ , but in the minds of the crew and I, we sank a one-hundred-thousand-tonne aircraft carrier for the cost of a fifteen-hundred-tonne patrol boat. That's a huge net gain for our forces."

"But you all _died_ ," Liao pointed out, "and it's not a move you'd use in real life."

The car arrived at their destination, a single-storey building near Sydney's centre. It was a nondescript sandstone building. It had no distinguishing features apart from its generic, completely normal appearance, which Liao guessed was probably deliberate.

"Correct," James answered, giving an impish grin. "But isn't real life just another game with a different set of rules?"

The two disembarked, continuing their conversation as they made their way up to the building's glass doors. A small sign to the left of the main entrance read:

Crown Research Facility

Trespassing prohibited

"Ramming your ship into the enemy's ship doesn't sound like a sound interpretation of the rules to me," said Liao.

Grégoire waved a key fob in front of a sensor, and the two panes of glass opened. A cool, air-conditioned breeze washed over Liao's face.

"Not if you look at it like _that_ ," he answered, shrugging. "As far as I was concerned, the rules of the game we were playing said, 'Ramming always works.' I took an inexpensive ship and rammed a _much_ more expensive ship, sinking the pair of them. That's a net gain for us. That's a _victory_."

The two walked inside the structure. Immediately, the atmosphere changed. The inside of the building was a stark contrast to its exterior. This seemed like the inside of a dormitory for a tech college. Technical graphs, diagrams, and posters adorned almost every inch of every wall, proudly displaying the technical aspects of devices Liao didn't even recognise. The floor was covered in a thick, plush, blue carpet.

"Hey, so you're the visitors, huh?" came a feminine, nasally voice, thick with an Australian accent. A short, freckled, weedy, twenty-something Caucasian woman with bushy red hair and large, awkward-looking glasses leaned casually against a wall in a stance that Liao could only describe as a desperate attempt to look like one of the cool kids in a high school.

"That's right. I'm Lieutenant Melissa Liao from the People's Republic," Liao offered, extending her hand, "and this is Captain James Grégoire, Belgian Naval Component, EU."

The redhead's bravado evaporated almost instantly, and she seemed to hesitate a moment before taking Liao's white-gloved hand, giving it an awkward shake. She didn't look her in the eye. She then shook James's hand and gestured to a room farther inside the building.

"I'm Summer Rowe. I'm lead engineer here. You're here to see Chekhov's Armoury, right?"

James threw Melissa a confused look. "Sorry, what?"

Rowe gave a nasally snort, pushing up her glasses with her ring finger. "That's just what we call the toy box—uh, I mean, all this stuff. It's a literary term. It's, uh... it's kinda the idea that when you introduce something early on, it's irrelevant at the time but later becomes really important—and this stuff is going to be _really_ important in a few years."

"Oh," was all Liao could say to that.

Summer turned and began to walk farther into the twisting maze of tunnels that resembled, for all intents and purposes, a rabbit warren or the maze in some medieval wizard's dungeon. Behind her back, the two military personnel exchanged a subtle what-the-hell glance.

"他妈的书呆子."

"Be nice," Grégoire implored in a mutter.

Summer glanced over her shoulder. "Huh?"

"Nothing," Liao chirped, giving her best smile. Her heels tapped on the polished linoleum with every step as she squinted slightly in the dimly lit corridor.

Rowe shrugged it away, fidgeting with something in front of her. _Click. Click. Click._ Liao saw it was a ballpoint pen, and she was clicking the top button up and down. Every repetition seemed to increase Liao's blood pressure.

"We don't get many other girls in here," Rowe admitted sheepishly as the group passed a giant trash can overflowing with soft-drink cans, pizza boxes, plastic takeaway containers, and computer printouts smeared with grease.

"That's probably because you work in a lightless, filthy hovel," Liao snipped sarcastically, her tone a little more acidic than she really intended.

Summer winced, looking away.

Melissa gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, it was a long flight."

As they walked, Liao could feel eyes on her as they passed endless laboratories, some filled with modern-looking computers. About half of them were in use by neck-bearded scientists (and despite Rowe's comment, the occasional woman) typically typing at a blistering pace at black-and-white terminals.

_Click. Click. Click._

Rowe absently waved her hand as she passed several doors, her other hand abusing the pen's clicker.

"What do we have here? Uh... okay. This is an advanced, high-radiation resilient tungsten-aluminium- _whatever_ alloy... that's the pet project of the materials guys. I don't know what it's called—something Greek or Latin—but we nicknamed it 'indestructium.' Radiation resistant, really, really strong, lightweight... apparently they think it's the bees' knees, but _eh_. So you can build a cool tank with it. Who _cares_? I hate those arrogant assholes."

_Click. Click. Click._

Summer paused before an unmarked door, mercifully slipping the pen into her hip pocket. The woman seemed a lot more relaxed now that they were farther inside, away from the last vestiges of the sun's presumably harmful rays. "Let's start at the _least_ impressive item and work our way up, shall we?"

Liao shrugged, idly wondering if this Rowe was a little nuts. "Sure, why not? We have to see it all eventually."

The redhead opened the door. Inside, a donut-shaped chrome-steel device rested on a heavy wooden table. The fairly plain metal composition didn't give any hint as to its functionality. It had a layer of thick, shiny, silver paint on it that made it look like a piece of scrap they'd dragged out of a junkyard, smoothed, and then tossed up on the table.

"We call it the Reactionless Drive," she proclaimed, gesturing over the very simple-looking device with a hand, her tone conveying a weight that the others simply didn't feel.

"Looks like some kind of tacky prop from a '60s sci-fi show," Melissa observed, grimacing. "What's it do?"

Summer looked very offended.

"Only, you know, _violate Newtonian physics_ ," she retorted, pushing up her glasses with her ring finger yet again, a gesture Liao found almost as annoying as her voice. "This baby generates _gravity waves_. Observe!"

Rowe pressed the giant, fist-sized, red button on the wooden desk. Then exactly nothing happened.

Liao watched curiously as Rowe took the plastic pen out of her pocket, holding it near the giant donut. The tip wobbled, and then the whole pen was jerked out of her hand towards the featureless metal—hitting it with a _clank_.

"Impressive, but isn't that just magnetism?" Liao observed dryly.

"That pen's _plastic_ ," Rowe retorted, turning off the device with another thump of the button. The pen clattered to the table. "But, yeah—the Reactionless Drive can attract or repel objects made of any material or even propel itself like an engine. Flying cars, here we come!"

James nodded, giving Liao a grin. _"_ Impressive."

Rowe's smirk was a mile wide. "Yeah, I'm _really_ looking forward to Jane Sixpack-Soccermum flying over my house all fucked up on Ritalin, typing on her cell phone with one hand and chugging scotch with the other between bouts of screaming at the kids in the back seat." She laughed. "But seriously, you haven't seen _anything_ yet."

She led them to a different room. This room was essentially a giant corridor, stretching out beyond the single light above them. Two black metal rails at hip height followed the corridor into the gloom.

"Lieutenant Liao, Captain Grégoire, _this_... is the magnetic accelerator."

Melissa felt a twitch building in her eye. Just like her father, this annoying woman was fond of dramatic pauses for effect.

"What's it do?" Liao asked, folding her arms.

Rowe grinned proudly. "Take any three-to-four-kilogram ferrous projectile, place it in this thing, and watch as it gets shot up to about... oh, _three kilometres a second_. Faster, with more juice behind it and more rail length."

Liao was actually genuinely impressed. "Cool."

Rowe snorted derisively. "Cool? It's damn near fucking _godlike_! Can you imagine trains built on this technology? You could get from Perth to Brisbane in, like, _half an hour—_ allowing time for the train to accelerate or decelerate so the fleshy bodies on board don't get smushed. Freight trains could go even fucking faster than _THAT_!"

She became more and more animated the more she talked, and her breathing picked up. Liao absently worried if she was going to have a heart attack.

"Anyway, seriously, this thing is _already_ obsolete," she said, suddenly relaxing and flashing a knowing smirk. "At least, the _last_ room in this little tour is going to make even the _idea_ of trains laughable."

She led them out, bouncing like a child showing her parents her prize for making the best potato battery in school.

The last room was right at the middle of the single-level building—if Liao's sense of direction was to be believed in this maze. Rowe dramatically pushed open the heavy double doors, throwing her hands high above her head.

"The Spacial Coordinate Remapper. It is here, ladies and gentlemen, that we _have become gods_. It is here that we make physics our _bitch_."

A large, perfectly spherical object, about a meter in diameter and made entirely out of some kind of metal neither James nor Melissa recognised, stood on four struts in the middle of the room. This, much like the devices in the previous two rooms, was incredibly underwhelming, but the two naval officers had figured out that, generally speaking, the less impressive the appearance the more impressive the functionality.

Summer's words were a bold proclamation, Liao thought, but she held back an amused chuckle. "Right," she said instead. "So what does _this_ little toy do, hmm?"

Rowe snorted, pushing up her glasses. "It teleports itself and anything around it to another location."

Liao blinked.

James shook his head. "What, like _Star Trek_? 'Beam me up, Scotty'?"

"No, not quite. Essentially, it transports itself and attached mass—up to about two hundred thousand tonnes, give or take—from point A to point B directly, without any journey in between—unlike in _Star Trek_ , where the transporters de-materialise the transportee and move the matter stream to the transporter pad. Instead, this thing just jumps itself from place to place. No de-materialising. Just _pop_! So it's more like Nightcrawler from _X-Men_. Incidentally, "'Beam me up!' is a frequently misquoted line. Kirk never actually said that phrase during the _whole show_ , nor did anyone else. It's kinda like 'Luke, I am your father'—that's wrong too. Vader _actually_ said, 'No, _I_ am your father!'"

Rowe looked smug, which was the stroke that completed the unflattering picture Liao had painted in her mind.

Melissa pursed her lips thoughtfully. "So... this 'jump drive'... where can it go? What's its effective range?"

Summer grinned triumphantly. "As far as we can tell, _unlimited_. At least, that's what our theoretical physicists tell us. We can't get it to work within a planet's gravity field; even very minute interference throws it off, so it hasn't been tested."

Liao frowned. "So we can't use it anywhere there's even a tiny bit of gravity? Doesn't that limit its application somewhat?"

Rowe smirked. "You might think so, but no. You see, gravity operates on the inverse square law, so you'd think you'd have to be ages away from any sizable body to make it work, but... there are these things called Lagrangian points, points in space where there's _practically_ no gravity at all—I mean damn next to nothing."

Summer casually chewed on the end of her pen as she spoke, muffling her words ever so slightly, causing the others to have to focus on what she was saying to hear her.

"They're found where the gravitational forces of two strong, nearby bodies cancel each other out—between the Earth and the moon, for example, or between the sun and the Earth. So while we can't use it to send a postcard to Canada, we could send one to a Lagrangian point near Pandora, where the _Avatar_ people are, or to ice-planet Hoth. You know, whatever."

James spoke up. "How do you even know it works?"

Rowe shrugged. "We don't, but the math surrounding it is totally rock solid. _Rock solid_... " Then she added in a soft mutter, "Pretty much."

An awkward moment of silence filled the room, in which it was clear nobody knew quite what to say.

"So, um. That... concludes the great tour, you guys! Uh—Lieutenant, Captain, did you two want to head to the lunch room for a bite to eat?"

"Actually, we have our own lunch planned," James answered. "Sorry."

Liao silently nodded in agreement.

Summer looked dejected but perked right back up. "Ah... that's fine. I'll walk you back to the front entrance. Then I have paperwork to do, so... work, work."

They began to walk back the way they'd come, and Summer pulled out her pen again... until Liao shot her a look that said it was probably better if she didn't.

Instead, she pocketed it and turned to James. "So, you liked what you saw of the technology?"

The man nodded, his smile growing. "Yes. I see a lot of potential here, a lot of new technologies that the EU will be happy to trade for. It's all in aid of our space program, you see, so—"

Summer gave a squeal. "Oh, wow. My shit's going to get shot into _space_? That's so _cool_!"

"Heh, well, if it does... I'll make sure that they send back plenty of pictures."

Liao tuned out the conversation, instead stopping by the water cooler and plucking up one of the plastic cups.

"What a complete fucking waste of time," she muttered to nobody, despondently watching the small container fill with cool, bubbling water, patiently waiting as the water level gradually rose.

Suddenly, an incredibly bright flash, like a camera only a foot away from someone's eye, exploded from further down the corridor. It faded quickly, replaced by a low glow as though coming from the headlights of a car. Looking up—and immediately forced to squint—Liao could barely see the shadowy outlines of Summer and James stopped in the middle of the corridor, both as alarmed and curious as she. The cup, forgotten, began to overflow as Melissa raised a hand to shield her eyes, trying to peer past the intense light.

Then the roaring started. It was like a foghorn, low and loud, the vibrations so strong she could feel them in her gut. The whole building began to shake, posters and pictures thrown from the walls. The light intensified, becoming so bright that she was forced to cup her hands over her eyes.

With a rumble, a support beam dislodged from the ceiling and caught her on the back of her head, sending her sprawling to the floor with a pained grunt. The water cooler collapsed and broke with a _crack-splash_ , dousing Liao's face and upper torso in freezing water. Panicked, Melissa struggled to stand, but the roof above her gave way, concrete and steel crashing down all around her, pinning her facedown on the carpet.

White-hot pain exploded from her legs. Her agonized screaming was drowned out by the foghorn noise, which was so loud her ears could hear nothing else.

Abruptly, the sound ceased. The debris shifted and settled, and for a moment, there was absolutely no sound except her own pained gasping for breath and the gentle trickle of water from the remains of the broken water cooler onto the carpet.

Then, mercifully, unconsciousness took the pain away.

Chapter II

****

The Pillars of the Earth

_*****_

_Jiuquan Satellite Launch Centre_

_People's Republic of China_

_Earth_

_Eight years after the attacks_

"CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NEW PROMOTION, Commander Liao. She's a fine ship."

Field promotions could be bittersweet. In most cases, they represented recognition of skill or capabilities beyond your current rank, deserving of reward. However, in this case, her promotion represented simple survival; it merely represented being alive after a catastrophe.

This, in Liao's mind, was not an action worthy of advancement and adoration, but the choice had not been hers.

So much had changed since the attacks. If Liao hadn't been in Sydney at the time, the attack on Beijing would have claimed her too. An unusually high number of naval officers had been attending their yearly, mandatory classes in the capitol at the time of the attack and had subsequently died. Due to her mission in Sydney, Liao had been given an exception to the training, which had ultimately saved her life.

Sydney had been attacked too, but the heavily reinforced research facility had saved her. No such luck for the shoddily constructed barracks the Navy called a training depot. Everyone in that building had been crushed. It had taken the rescue authorities a month to dig the bodies out.

It was a Pearl Harbour for the Chinese military; a sudden loss of resources gathered in one point. After the attacks, all over the fleet, every ship, every submarine, and every terrestrial base was screaming for experienced officers. They had all requested her, but they had all been denied because General Yang had offered her a command she couldn't turn down.

After the attacks, China, India, Iran, and the EU all stepped up their space program under the banner of a multinational alliance called Task Force Resolution. With their combined resources, they were able to construct a lunar base, home to twenty thousand civilians and military personnel, almost all of whom worked on humanity's hope for the future.

These hopes were called the Pillars of the Earth, and they took the form of three colossal spaceships just shy of six hundred metres long and weighing two hundred thousand tonnes each. Each was the size and mass of two aircraft carriers placed end to end, and the three of them had taken four years to build.

Each one had been named for a city bombed in the attacks. The TFR _Tehran_ was the first completed, having completed its shakedown cruise eight weeks before without incident. The TFR _Sydney_ was still in dry dock on the moon's surface, awaiting the fitting of the last of its crew, weapons, and computers.

The TFR _Beijing_ patiently awaited its captain, Commander Melissa Liao.

Liao extended her hand across the table, firmly shaking the hand extended to her. General Yang, a portly man well into his midfifties, returned the gesture. At Liao's insistence, the conversation proceeded in English. She had to keep her language skills up; they were a valuable asset. After what had happened in Sydney, the command staff agreed by and large, albeit begrudgingly.

"Thank you, sir, and I'm sure he's a _very_ fine ship, from what I've seen in the simulations. I'm anxious to meet him."

" _Him_?" General Yang tilted his head, seeming both curious and confused. "Commander, my understanding was the naval tradition dictated that a ship was always a _woman_."

Liao ended the handshake and folded her hands behind her. "Not quite, sir. The implication is that the captain is married to the job. In my view, that says to me... female captain, male ship."

The man stood, nodding appreciatively, and beckoned to the door. It was a simple chipboard affair, painted dull grey. However, behind it lay great things.

"Very well. Are you prepared for your trip?"

Liao nodded. "Bags packed, ready to go, sir."

"Very well." Yang opened the door. Beyond lay the launch site for the Changzheng 6D multistage rocket that would bear her to the stars. Seating forty, this personnel shuttle would be the last to depart for the lunar dry dock before the ship was fully crewed and ready for his mission.

Releasing the doorknob, Yang nodded, taking in the view of the launch pad. "I wish I was going with you."

" _Everyone_ does," observed Liao. "This is the most popular command around. Every sailor in the People's Navy would give their right _nut_ to be scrubbing the heads on the _Beijing_."

General Yang did not contest her assertion. "Right. Well, let's get you suited up. The launch is in six hours, so we need you ready. There are a lot of preparations to be made yet."

He paused, chuckling.

"Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. Before we get to that, your parents are here. They want to try to talk you out of going again. You've got a little bit of time to say goodbye to them if you want."

Sighing and running her hand through her now short-cropped hair, Liao nodded. She had changed her hairstyle after the attacks. Where before, she had worn it as long as regulations allowed, she now kept her hair very short.

"Sure, why not."

It took only a few minutes for the armoured car carrying Lan and Huan, her mother and father, to trundle its way to Yang's office. They both disembarked and hurried towards her, grabbing her and squeezing her into an awkward three-way hug. Her parents, knowing her preferences for languages, spoke to her in English.

"Melissa! Oh, Melissa, I can't believe they're going to shoot you into space!"

Her mother was beside herself, as Liao had expected. Extracting herself from their arms, she did her best to calm them down.

"They're not going to _shoot_ _me into space_ , Mum... jeez. And actually, it's a huge honour. I'm going to be commanding my own ship—"

"I know, but... but...!"

Liao gently kissed her mother's cheek. "Look, this is something I have to do, okay? It's important to the nation and to all of humanity, really, as a species. And it's _very_ important to me."

Her father, Huan, just shook his head. "Niu, you know you don't have anything to prove—"

Hadn't he learned by _now_? Melissa's dark eyes narrowed dangerously. " _Don't_ call me Niu," she said, folding her arms.

Lan looked back and forth between the two, trying to defuse the tension. "Look... please, this is a huge occasion, do you two have to fight _now?_ "

Melissa stabbed her finger towards her father. "He knows how I feel about that name. My name is _Melissa_."

Huan leaned forward slightly, becoming agitated. " _Niu_ 's your name _._ It's the name we _gave_ you when you were born. That's your name now, and it always _will_ be!"

Melissa practically spat out her reply. "It's the name you gave to your _first_ daughter. I am _not_ your replacement goldfish, and I never will be. Niu is _dead._ I have my own life to live and I _won't_ be haunted by the spectre of your dead child."

It was true. Lan and Huan's first child had been Niu Liao, and she had been the apple of her parents' eyes. No great tragedy had fallen upon them, nor had there been any great conspiracy about it; Niu had just ever so quietly stopped breathing one night. It had taken her parents three years to even consider another child, and in memoriam to what they had lost, they had also called the newborn girl Niu.

Liao had learned the truth about her name when she was eight years old. She had stumbled upon a picture of her deceased baby sister during a move between apartments. At once, she had hated the very idea that the name that defined her individuality, that was supposed to be _hers_ alone, was in fact all in honour of another person.

Frustrated and bitter about her parents' decision, she had decided almost immediately to adopt a new name. She chose from Greek mythology, a subject she had been studying with interest in school. From those legends, Melissa had been a nymph who had discovered the secrets of making honey.

Liao had liked the idea of being named after a gentle discoverer, and she immediately adopted the moniker. Her father _hated_ it and opposed her at every turn, but his wife was usually there to calm him down. She was allowed to keep the name. As the years passed, Lan had gently persuaded him to allow her, begrudgingly, to formally change her name when she turned sixteen.

She sometimes felt that her parents had such high hopes for Niu that Melissa couldn't possibly live up to their expectations. No matter what she did in life, she felt she would always be second to what her parents _imagined_ Niu could have done.

Sadness crept into her voice. "Can't you just be happy for me?"

Her mother quickly comforted her. "Mel, we _are_ happy."

Huan turned away from her, closing his eyes. That simple gesture hurt Liao more than she cared to admit. She hardened her features, her lips a thin line on her face.

"I have things to do, preparations to make." Liao strained to keep her tone even. "Thank you for visiting."

Her mother shot her a silent look that said, "I'm sorry."

Liao held her gaze for a moment and then politely ushered them out.

_Inside the Changzheng 6D_

_Jiuquan Satellite Launch Centre_

_Hours later_

With her parents' visit taken care of, the rest of the preparations went smoothly. Liao went through the same safety and procedure briefing she'd endured dozens of times. When it was all done, she and the rest of the passengers were strapped into their capsule, and the countdown timer ticked down.

"六, 五, 四, 三, 二, 一..."

The rocket shook with a shudder, starting as a gentle rumble then violently peaking as the craft broke free of its moorings and began its surprisingly slow ascent into the sky. Firmly locked into her seat, Liao could see nothing but a glimpse of the seemingly immobile blue sky through a tiny porthole. If it were not for the incredible feeling of acceleration and the shaking of everything, she would have sworn they were still on the launch pad.

The bulky, heavy suit she wore was hot and restrictive, but all thoughts of discomfort were banished from her mind as the craft rocketed to the heavens on a giant column of smoke and flame.

Soon and quite suddenly, the blue sky out the porthole dimmed and became almost a dull grey colour. Gravity inside the compartment felt almost three times as strong as normal due to their rapid ascent. Liao felt the crushing weight of her own arms pinned against the restraints of her seat, unable to move.

Within moments, the grey gave way to an inky, lightless void, and Liao felt another shudder as the last of the multistage rocket broke away, leaving the crew module drifting through the nothingness of low Earth orbit.

She also felt her stomach lurch. As part of her training, she had experienced "zero g" a number of times in free fall, each accompanied by a prolonged bout of vomiting. She hoped—prayed—that this time would be different. She summoned a mental image of her father's disapproving frown to try to keep her dumplings in her stomach.

Awkwardly unclasping her restraint, Liao began to climb out of her seat but was shocked when she began to float quite helplessly up to the roof. Fighting down another wave of nausea, she grabbed one of the many handles and held on. After a moment, the queasiness abated, but she still felt as though she were only moments away from losing her breakfast.

"那里是你没事吧?" came a question from one of the other passengers, in the Henan dialect.

"I'm fine." She closed her eyes a moment and tried to keep her composure. "But English only, please."

Surprisingly, the officer answered her in clipped but very clearly articulated English. His tone was formal but polite. "Of course. You must be Captain Liao." He floated a little closer to her. "I've heard you insist on the TFR's English-only rule at all times, even with your family."

"That's me, yes, and I do insist on it. My ability to speak English saved my life. I'd like to think that was a sign... of sorts."

Upside down, the man extended his hand in a gesture that was far too awkward for Liao to take immediately. "Lieutenant Commander Gaulung Sheng. I'm your first officer."

Liao was surprised at how young the man looked. He couldn't have been a day over thirty, but he was her XO? Very surprising. Liao did her best to shake his hand with their positions reversed.

"Your first time in microgravity, Captain?" he asked, seeming completely at ease with their situation, in stark contrast to Liao, who had a dozen tiny leprechauns tap-dancing on her stomach lining.

"First time outside of training," she answered, nodding her head. Nodding turned out to be a bad idea. Another wave of nausea hit her, and she tried her best to keep it all down. "I didn't realise it would be so fucking... ugh."

Sheng seemed sympathetic to her distress. "I threw up on my first time," he admitted, casually handing her a white paper bag opened at one end. "It's entirely natural. People think going into space is this wonderful, beautiful thing, but it's actually _quite_ uncomfortable. They put you in these suits, and then they strap your arse to a giant rocket and blast you off at supersonic speeds. And you know, practically _everyone_ pukes."

Right on cue, she retched into the bag. Sheng averted his eyes, and when she was done, he took it, deposited it inside a clearly marked receptacle nearby, and promptly fetched a fresh one. In the background, she could hear others doing the same. She was slightly mollified by the realization that she was not alone.

"You'll get used to it, sir," he said, giving her a clap on the shoulder that sent her slowly spinning around like a pinwheel. Fortunately, her stomach was empty at this point, and to his credit, he reached out to stop her by grabbing her foot as it sailed past. Pulling himself up, he floated face-to-face with her, which proved to do wonders for her vertigo.

"First things first." Her voice was muffled by the fresh bag around her mouth. "While naval tradition dictates that female officers are to be referred to as 'sir,' I believe that female officers can be feminine without compromising their authority. 'Ma'am' or 'Captain' will do just fine, thank you. Or 'Commander' if we're not on board the ship."

He nodded although his acceptance of the command seemed, to Liao, to be a little forced. "Very well, Commander." He paused as he let her regain a little more of her composure. "Are you looking forward to the shakedown cruise?"

Risking another wave of distress, Liao nodded slightly. "I am, yes. I heard Captain Yavari took the TFR _Tehran_ out for her maiden voyage a couple of months ago, completing it without incident." She grinned wryly, and despite how pale she looked, her face held a confidence she hoped Sheng would find inspiring. "I hope to do _better_."

"I'm sure you will, Commander, but..." He looked confused. "Regarding Captain Yavari, didn't you hear what happened?"

Liao blinked a few times, genuinely surprised. Had something gone wrong with the _Tehran_ 's __ systems? Was this something she needed to know about? It seemed she was always the last to hear these things.

"Hear what? All I've heard is that the voyage was without incident."

He chuckled. "No, no. It went fine, but Yavari's not in command of the _Tehran_ , nor was he even there for her shakedown. During a routine physical, he was found to have pancreatic cancer, so they pulled him off the line. He's commanding a desk now, on Earth, but he still checks in every now and then over the ship's long-range radios, and he's copied into all their reports."

That was unfortunate. She knew Yavari by reputation only, but what she had heard was good. The man was a good commander and a solid officer.

"So who's the _Tehran_ 's CO now?" She switched handholds, feeling somewhat better. She dared to move the paper bag away from her face.

"Yavari's former XO, Captain James Grégoire."

Liao couldn't help but allow a playful little smile to dance on her lips. "Ah, my old friend. The Iranians must _not_ have liked that, an EU sycophant in charge of the ship named after their capitol."

"They were positively livid, but Grégoire was the XO. He knew the ship, stem to stern. There was—and still is—nobody better."

She paused as though determining just how polite it would be to ask. "How is the old bastard anyway? Not too lost without his captain?"

Sheng shrugged. "Last time I was at the lunar colony, he was doing just fine. A bit pissed that his captain had gone and gotten cancer on him. But hey, I honestly think he was glad to have the command, all other things aside. The shakedown cruise went well, so that's a good start."

She could understand that. "How long until we arrive? I'm anxious to see the _Beijing_ for myself. I've studied the blueprints and 3D models and been through simulation after simulation, but nothing compares to the real thing."

He smiled. "From the Earth to the Moon is not that far at all. Three days—just a quick jaunt out in space. Don't worry; you'll get a good view of the ship as we land." Liao did sincerely hope so. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but a voice interrupted her.

"Liao? Melissa Liao?"

Liao knew that voice. Twisting around—not the wisest decision, she discovered—Liao's disapproving eyes fell upon a torrent of floating red hair, bobbing about excitedly as though animated by a power of its own.

Summer Rowe. The geek from Chekhov's Armoury in Sydney. If there was anyone Liao fervently hoped would have been left behind on Earth, it was this woman.

"Isn't this _awesome_?"

The redhead's voice was even more high pitched and nasal than before, and she quickly chuffed down a puff from her asthma inhaler. Rowe's light-blue eyes darted all around the room, taking in every detail.

Liao tried to keep her voice even. "We are about six thousand kilometres from the Earth, on a special chartered flight for the People's Navy. _What_ are you doing here?"

Summer just grinned impishly. "Oh, you haven't heard? I've been assigned to the _Beijing_ as a consultant. I mean, half the ship's technology was fucking built by us anyway, and nobody knows it better than I do."

Liao squinted slightly. "Oh?" she remarked dryly, shooting Sheng an I-will-gut-you-for-allowing-this look out of the corner of her eye. "Nobody bothered to tell _me_ , but I guess that's okay. I'm only the _captain_ and all."

Rowe gave a laugh. "Aww... well, I was originally intended to ship out with the _Tehran_ , but there was a scheduling conflict, and they couldn't make it work in time."

Liao shook her head in confusion. "Well, no matter. I guess we could use your voice on our shakedown cruise, not that I'm expecting any problems."

Summer grasped one of the handles, curling up into a tight ball and spinning herself backwards. The redhead laughed giddily, and Liao felt queasy again. It was going to be a long trip.

_Space, fifty thousand kilometres from the lunar surface_

_2037 A.D._

_Three days after liftoff from Jiuquan_

It had indeed been a long three days, but for Melissa Liao, the arrival was worth every insufferable moment with Summer. Sheng had been of invaluable assistance. But if she were honest, she hadn't spoken to him very much. That, on reflection, she felt was quite a shame. He was going to be her XO, after all; they should be at least familiar with each other. Still, she found Grégoire to be much better company and couldn't wait to meet him on the surface.

It would be very nice to chat with him in person. They had kept in touch after the attack on Sydney, his letters a distinct comfort to her as her hip mended. James had written every other day. Liao had worried that she would lose mobility and be discharged, but the Australian surgeons had done good work. Currently, aside from a seriously heavy-duty scar, it was as if she had never been injured at all.

Liao pressed her face against the round porthole. The view from this altitude was glorious. The dark side of the lunar surface filled the perspex, with only an edge of the black inkiness of space visible. She'd never before seen the moon in such detail, although it might have looked even more impressive than usual because it was so close, with no atmosphere in the way.

"Sure is a lot prettier from up here," remarked Sheng from his own viewing port, voicing their shared thought.

Soon, the craft turned, descending towards the lunar surface. When it grew close, Liao could see the bright cluster of lights on the moon's dark surface, the TFR _Beijing_. Competition was fierce for the tiny view out of the porthole, but Liao had the lion's share. That was one of the privileges of rank.

Almost as though on cue, brilliant floodlights on the surface flicked on, illuminating the whole area. Every detail of the ship was immediately visible, and Liao eagerly drank in the view. Painted gunmetal grey, the vessel was long and thin, with dozens of large heat sinks protruding from its surface to dissipate as much heat as possible. It looked like a long, thin fish, dotted along the top with missile launch tubes.

To her it appeared graceful and elegant but also functional and dangerous. If the ship were a sword, it would be a rapier, long and thin but deceptively deadly.

As the tiny, cramped module and its forty passengers descended, the retro-thrusters fired, slowing the craft. "Gravity" of a sort began to assert itself, and she felt herself pushed ever so gently back into her seat.

All in all, a few seconds' glimpse of the full ship was all she had before the craft dipped below the rim of a vast crater, but it was enough. The vessel, bathed in thousands of bright lights, shone like a beacon of hope for all of humanity, and proudly emblazoned on its side was the insignia he would bear on all his journeys:

TFR N00003 - _Beijing_

_Justice belongs to those who claim it._

__

"I wanted to name it _Enterprise_ ," remarked Summer, her face pressed up against Liao's in competition for the view.

Chapter III

****

Shakedown

_*****_

_Lunar Drydock_

_Task Force Resolution Lunar Colony_

_The Moon_

_One day later_

LIAO STOOD IN THE TFR _Beijing_ 's umbilical, the long, rubbery airtight passage connecting the hulking starship— _her_ hulking starship—to the drydock. At the moment, she was neither inside the great vessel nor inside the spartan, cramped lunar colony. She stood in the void between moon and vessel.

The next step would take her there, would be her first step on the cool, gunmetal-grey deck that led directly onto deck six. She had studied the blueprints endlessly. She knew the ship's every bolt, every weld, but she had never before this moment seen its inside with her own eyes.

"Captain on deck!"

A passing junior officer spotted Liao in her white naval uniform and commander's epaulette, coming swiftly to attention.

"As you were." Liao then stepped forward. With a satisfying _clink,_ her boot hit the metal of the deck. With intense satisfaction, she savoured the thought that she was now aboard her first command, not just any old ship but one the entire world was watching with eager anticipation.

A great personal moment, one that she would remember forever.

But it passed, and Liao made her way into the _Beijing_ 's interior. She headed toward her quarters on deck two but was stopped along the way by a familiar face wearing civilian clothes.

"Hey, Melissa!"

Summer Rowe, her arms burdened with all manner of cables, devices, and laptops, pushed her way towards Liao through a group of chattering petty officers. Liao scowled instantly at her informality.

"Ahh, Summer Rowe. A word?"

Rowe jostled her equipment, her bespectacled, redheaded visage poking out from beside two heavy-looking books.

"Yeah, sure..."

Liao placed her hands on her hips and employed something she called her Captain's Voice. "This is the Task Force Resolution's vessel, the _Beijing_. I am his captain, and you are a guest upon it. While you are a civilian and I do not expect you to follow military protocol, here and in the presence of my crew, you will refer to me as _Captain_ , _Captain Liao_ , or _ma'am_. Am I in any way unclear?"

Rowe looked distinctly unhappy. "You're not serious..."

"Deadly. This vessel is a _warship_ , Rowe, not a pleasure cruise, and I _will_ have discipline from you on this matter if you want to stay on board."

Frowning, the redhead finally shrugged. "Fine." A pause, then, "Captain."

Nodding, Liao motioned for her to continue on her way but then changed her mind. "Actually, Rowe, if you could—you are here as a technical advisor. I require your advice. Walk with me."

"But my equipment—"

"Will be securely stored away by this fine gentleman. Crewman?" Liao beckoned to a junior enlisted crewman, waving him over. "Take this equipment and stow it in Rowe's quarters."

"是的,船长."

Liao frowned again. "English only, crewman. You know the rules."

"My apologies, Captain. It won't happen again."

She nodded to Rowe as she unloaded her—apparently quite heavy—load onto the unfortunate man, and Liao waved for him to continue. The two women walked towards the stern of the vessel.

"Let's talk about the ship first. Tell me what you know."

Rowe immediately began to speak in a rapid-fire manner, her tone almost frenzied as she spoke.

"Well, she's—"

"He," said Liao, cutting over the top of her.

"What?"

"Female captain, male ship. The _Beijing_ is a he."

"Um. Okay." Rowe seemed daunted for a moment and then inhaled and continued. "Well, _he_ is what they call a _Triumph-_ class assault cruiser. Two hundred thousand tonnes, half a kilometre long."

Liao nodded. They turned a corner, and the crew moved out of their way as they strode aft, despite the cramped corridors. "Why two hundred thousand tonnes?"

"That's all the jump drive can safely handle. Also, any bigger, and it wouldn't be able to lift off."

Liao was amused by how her term "jump drive" had reached the public lexicon, even amongst technically minded holdouts such as Rowe. It had taken only a few months after Liao coined it for the term to become the almost universally accepted term for the device.

"Good, continue."

"Well, she's made of a variety of materials, almost all of them mined here on the moon. Her outer hull is comprised of interlocking plates of the indestructium I showed you back in Sydney. When we need to, we pass an electric charge through it to induce rigidity—makes the damn stuff almost impossible to destroy and very radiation resistant... takes a lot of juice though. Fortunately, the ship's nuclear powered."

_Click. Click. Click._

"Pen. Away. _Now_."

Giving a dramatic sigh, Rowe stuck the pen in her breast pocket.

"Anyway. So the hull is plated indestructium. The superstructure is an aluminium-titanium-steel alloy, with various composite components scattered all around her. Artificial gravity and inertial dampeners are both based on a modified Reactionless Drive, eight nuclear reactors, an interesting weapons suite, a complete Reactionless Drive for sub-light motion and, of course, a jump drive."

Liao's heels clicked as she walked down the corridor. "Artificial gravity kicks in when?" She paused to sign a piece of paper thrust at her by a petty officer and then motioned for Rowe to continue.

"When we're farther away from the moon's gravity well and the artificial gravity of the colony itself. Otherwise... bad stuff happens."

"Good. Well, you're right so far," Liao observed, the two of them passing various marines who stood to attention. "Tell me about the weapons suite."

Rowe laughed. "A true military gal. Right. Well, the ship's primary weapons are her nuke suites. Ten launch tubes, all arranged on the vessel's uppermost deck. The warheads can also be loaded and fired via the rail guns, but they can't be loaded as fast or travel as fast as the ferrous projectiles that are built for that. It's also _hilariously_ unsafe."

"Okay, rail guns. What can you tell me about the rail guns?"

Rowe grinned an impish grin. "Well, they're twin magnetic accelerators running the length of the ship. At maximum power, each fires a six-kilo projectile at about a tenth of the speed of light. Great for punching holes in whatever you want at an entirely unfathomable distance, but it doesn't do _that_ much damage compared to the nukes. Of course, the nukes are much shorter range and much slower, so..."

"So they're better if used up close."

Rowe nodded.

The two of them climbed up the ladder to a deck above. Liao held open the hatch as Rowe clambered through and then she set it down with a dull _clank_.

"What about the jump drive?" asked Liao, straightening her back and walking on.

Rowe laughed. "Strictly—and I mean _strictly—_ offline. Our shakedown cruise is cruising along at sub-light only. Even if we get to a Lagrangian point, we _don't_ want them to know that we've kept up development on the thing."

Liao let just the tiniest smile grace her lips, nodding. "Good." She paused briefly, to give gravity to her next statement.

"You know your stuff. Glad to see you're worth keeping around after all. Welcome to the crew, Summer. Any questions?"

Summer grinned fiercely, motioning to the sidearm on Liao's belt. "Do I get a gun too?"

It was such an inane question that Liao didn't know how to respond to it at first. Finally, she nodded. "I see no problem with civilians being issued sidearms while they're aboard, if the situation warrants it." She paused, staring at the redhead. "Why?"

Rowe's grin was a mile wide. "Because, you know, _XKCD_. They had this comic where they rated potential action movie one-liners from most-probable to least-probable. And when we find the demons, I'm dying to pull out my gun and just go, 'Bangarang, motherfucker,' like, from _Peter Pan_ , the original novel... Seriously, that'd be _so awesome_."

Liao stared, seriously reconsidering her choice to arm the strange woman. "That's... that's something else, Summer. Good luck with that."

Summer wandered off, and Liao busied herself with dozens of endless tasks as befitted the captain of such a titanic vessel, putting Summer's strangeness out of her mind. The clock, synced to Earth time, was well past midnight before she finally visited her quarters for the first time. The _Beijing_ 's lodgings, even for the captain, were spartan but sufficient.

Liao required little, but it was nice to sleep in her own bed.

In the morning, Liao rose to the sound of the buzzer outside her quarters. Throwing on a thick, green bathrobe, she made her way to the hatchway. Twisting the seal and opening the door, Liao was greeted by a welcome sight, James Grégoire, looking nearly a decade older since their adventures in Sydney, but still with the same warm smile on his dark-skinned face.

"Look who decided to drop by." She opened the door a little wider. Her smile matched his as she beckoned him to enter.

"I can wait for you to get dressed, if you like." He raised an eyebrow.

She just gave a cheeky grin. "I went through a co-ed boot camp, Captain. No need to be coy. I'm quite used to it all by now."

The two entered her quarters. She watched as, with surprising agility and confidence, James fetched a pair of glasses—flipping them in the air—ice from the small fridge, and some scotch. She boggled. She had _scotch_?

It seemed as though she had not yet learned as much as she should have about the ship and its contents.

Sensing her reaction, James gave a light-hearted chuckle. "Apologies for seeming as though I know your ship better than you do, but the layout is completely identical to the _Tehran._ " He poured her a glass. "Even comes fitted with the same booze."

" _Now_ we're talking." Liao grinned, taking her glass with both hands. A brief silence passed as the two regarded each other. James's dark hand brought his glass to his lips, breaking the spell.

"How do you find the ship?" he asked, the ice in his glass clinking as he drank.

She swirled the glass of bronze liquid in her hand, shrugging her shoulders. "It's a fine command. Far more advanced than any surface vessel. Honestly, I've never seen anything like it, much less been in command of it. There's... there's a lot to learn, and there's so much..." her voice trailed off.

He inclined his head curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He tilted his head thoughtfully at her disposition. "You have some doubt about her capability? Her crew?"

" _He_ ," said Liao reflexively, and then shook her head. "And no."

"He," he said. "But then what? In Sheng?"

She paused a moment, considering her answer. "I suppose," she admitted, sipping from her glass. "He's young and unproven, but aren't we all... except you, old man." A playful wink. "And, well, I know that he has high ambitions. The problem is, all three Pillars of the Earth have captains now. How long does he plan to wait for the Task Force to build more? Does he honestly think he can earn his own command working under me?"

"I don't know," James answered, "but I've also heard that... heard he's ambitious. I know he lost a lot of family in Beijing. Maybe he'll be out for revenge, and that's a good motivator as long as it doesn't cloud his judgement. On the other hand, maybe he'll fear the aliens a little _too_ much. He does insist on calling them demons, after all. I suppose time will tell on that front."

"I suppose it will." A pause. "You don't think they're demons?" Liao's question was laced with curiosity.

"Well... what do _you_ think they are?"

She shrugged. "I think that ordinary men can be demons, so I don't see why these aliens can't be. Don't get me wrong; I don't believe in the supernatural, James, but... certain acts of depravity can never be forgiven. If someone acts like a demon, then in my mind, tar them with the brush that fits. Why not call them demons if they're so eager to earn that moniker?"

"Melissa," he smiled at her, lifting his glass to her as a toast, "I happen to agree with you, but hear me out. Our ancestors, humanity's ancestors, called anyone with a birth defect a demon. They named the gibbering mad folk demons, or people with epilepsy or narcolepsy. People with mental illnesses causing them to hear voices were thought to be possessed. The causes for all these things were eventually found, in time, and now we don't blame these perfectly valid medical explanations on 'demons.' We no longer fear and hate the unknown, revelling in our ignorance. Instead, we find the unknown to be a curiously enthralling place, something that encourages us to better ourselves."

He knocked back a little more scotch, smiling still. "So it's not that I disagree with your assessment, just that I detest the label. It is a rubber stamp for that which we do not understand, and I believe that _all_ things have a reason behind them."

"Makes sense."

The man leaned forward a little, growing more serious. "Do you doubt _yourself_?"

Liao couldn't answer that question right away. She stared into her drink, considering her response. When it came, it was measured and even.

"I know I can command this vessel," she said. She sipped at her drink, and the burn in her throat helped relax her. "And I will give this endeavour my all. But so much rests on what we do here rests on sheer, blind, dumb luck. We're going out into space with basically no idea what we're about to face... if anything. And if the demons, aliens, whatever, come... and we fail..." Her voice faltered. "If we fail here, then..."

"Then don't fail."

Liao gave a cocked, uneven grin. "That simple, hey?"

_Operations_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Lunar Drydock_

The next few weeks passed faster than Liao cared to think about. She was able to spend a surprising amount of time with James, and his presence assisted her greatly as the ship underwent its final preparations. They enjoyed an easy, close friendship, and she found his company to be an essential part of unwinding from the stresses of leadership.

But now, finally, the great day was upon them.

Liao sat in her captain's chair in the starship's operations room, a heavily built structure packed with computers. The area was sometimes simply known as "ops." Buried deep within the vessel's forward section and running along the ship's centre axis, it was the most armoured and protected of all the sections, along with the jump drive, nuclear reactors, atmospheric processors, and weapons and ammunition storage. Sheng stood next to her as she took her seat.

A fresh-faced junior lieutenant—the Chinese equivalent of an ensign—handed Sheng a printed message. He read it and then nodded to Melissa. Sheng's voice was charged with excitement as he spoke. "Final tests complete, Captain. All sections report alert status. Systems are green across the board."

This was the signal—it was time for launch. From its berth on the lunar surface, the crew had conducted every conceivable test they could. Now, the only way they could stress the ship further was to take him out for a spin.

Liao tugged on her uniform jacket, nodding up to Commander Sheng. "Very good, Commander. Warm up sub-light engines and bring reactors two and six to full power. Keep the remainder on standby. Prepare to disengage umbilicals and mooring clamps."

"Aye, ma'am."

Voices called back and forth throughout ops, punctuated by the _tap-tap-tap_ of fingers on keyboards. Then Lieutenant Dao called from the navigation section. "All systems clear. We are go for liftoff."

Liao turned to her XO. "Commander Sheng?"

"Aye, Captain?"

She paused a second or two to savour the moment. "Commence liftoff."

Sheng nodded ever so slightly. "Sub-light engines at full. Bearing: zero mark zero mark zero. Straight up if you please, Mister Dao."

"Aye, sir. Engines at full. Lifting him up."

The ship shuddered briefly as it strained against the moon's gravity. For a moment, it seemed as though it would not move at all. Then, as though breathing out a sigh of relief, the ship slipped free of its lunar berthing and began to ascend.

The helmsman, Mister Dao, spoke up again. "We have cleared the mooring scaffold. We are away. Altitude: six metres and climbing. Ten metres. Fifteen..."

"Very good, Mister Dao. Climb outside the moon's gravity well. Steady as she goes."

Slowly, like a long, thin zeppelin floating away from the ground, the craft climbed out of the moon's grasp. As the ship lifted higher, its velocity increased until finally it was calmly sailing through space. The gravity grew less and less, and Liao began to feel queasy. She fought the feeling with all her considerable willpower, willing herself not to hurl.

Finally, at approximately five thousand kilometres, the artificial gravity was slowly eased on. Soon the deck's pull became equal to what they would have experienced on the moon and then gradually increased towards Earth's normal pull.

Dao finally spoke again. "Sixty thousand clicks distant from the launch zone. We are currently passing the Lagrangian point L2, heading outbound. We are free of the Moon's gravity well."

There was a cheer from the entire ops crew although the XO and captain merely smiled triumphantly to each other. Liao noted, with a little concern, that Sheng seemed a little less enthused than she. Shrugging it off for the moment, Liao picked up the ship's intercom and engaged it.

"Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking. We are away."

Lifting her finger from the talk key, Melissa gestured to the helmsman. "Mister Dao, set course for Waypoint Alpha en route to Jupiter. All engines ahead full."

The helmsman's grin spread from ear to ear. "Aye aye, Captain. Setting bearings for Waypoint Alpha, all engines ahead full."

Liao stood from her chair, nodding to her first officer. "Nicely done, Commander Sheng."

"Thank you, Captain. Just make sure to note that in your log." He shrugged a little. "So, six weeks out from Jupiter." He folded his hands behind his back. "Just a small hop around the block. Here's hoping for smooth sailing."

"The _Tehran_ 's journey was uneventful." Liao motioned towards the doorway to the captain's office. The two officers crossed the floor of the operations room and stepped into her private office, Liao closing the door behind them. "Here's hoping _ours_ is the same."

"You keep saying that." Sheng flashed a smile in her direction. Liao noticed that the smile was a little bit more than professional. Not flirtatious, though, but... something else. She paused a moment as though unsure of how to proceed now that they were alone. She _had_ intended to spend more time with her XO.

Perhaps he was just nervous, but Liao got the distinct impression that he didn't like her. After some thought, she answered his question. "I suppose I'm hoping that if I keep saying it, it'll come true."

"You don't think it will?" He inclined his head. "I know the people who built her, Captain. The _Beijing_ is a fine ship and she—"

"He."

"Of course. _He_." Sheng tilted his head. "You have some doubts about the ship's capabilities? I thought you were satisfied with everything."

She shook her head, firmly. " _No_. This is the finest ship mankind can make. I have no doubt as to the power of his arms or the strength of his hull. It's primarily new technology, yes, but it's all been tested now on the _Tehran_ , and most of the main issues have been resolved. I'm certain of the _Beijing_ 's capabilities, and I know he'll carry us through. Rather, I worry for the future."

Liao reached up for the glass cabinet hung on the wall, taking out a pair of glasses. She went to pour a pair of drinks but hesitated somewhat. The glasses had special significance to her; she had last shared them with James. For some reason she couldn't put her finger on, it felt wrong to do the same with Sheng.

But that was silly. She began pouring, putting several cubes of ice in each with the small tongs.

Sheng watched her pour. "You wonder if the _Beijing_ is a match for the demons." He chuckled. "Interesting. When I was visiting Captain Knight, he insisted that it was the _visitor_ that poured the scotch."

Smiling, she cast a glance his way. "Isn't that everyone's worry? They levelled three cities back on Earth, seemingly without a care in the world. They could have kept going... wiped us all out. They only stopped because they _wanted_ to. And I'm not Captain Knight. How is the _Sydney_ , anyway?"

"It has its problems," Sheng admitted, downing his glass a little too fast for Liao's liking. Obviously sensing her displeasure, Sheng rattled the ice in his glass. "I don't really like scotch."

"My mother said never to trust a man who couldn't drink scotch. Would you prefer champagne instead?" She reached for the bottle. "So, any thoughts on why the aliens stopped their attack when they did?"

"Your mother's very wise, and maybe that energy weapon of theirs is limited. Isn't it a little bit too early in the day to be drinking so much?"

Liao shook her head. "You don't use everything you have in a battle right away. If you do, but it doesn't work, you're defenceless. Even if their weapon only had three shots, they had an ace up their sleeve. I'm _certain_ of it." Relieved that Sheng was no longer interested in her hard liquor, she finished her drink then washed and stored the glasses back where she had found them. Reaching into the cabinet, she retrieved two of the taller, thinner champagne glasses and poured, handing him one. "Oh, go on. It's a special occasion."

He seemed pleased with the latest liquid offering, slightly swirling it and sniffing to sample the aroma. He clinked his glass to hers then put the drink to his lips, tasting it. His reaction, from what she could tell, was very positive. "I'm sure their ships are capable of more than they've shown us. And this is French? As in, actually from Champagne?"

"We'll find out in due time, I suspect. And yes, it's the genuine article."

The pair drank their modest half-glasses of the immodestly priced drink, and then Liao packed them away. With her hand on the cabinet's door, she hesitated a moment, studying her own faint reflection in the flat, glass window.

"In due time," Sheng echoed, his voice solemn.

_Captain Liao's Office_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Space_

_Day 9 of the shakedown cruise_

Liao worked on her paperwork. A captain's life was paperwork; it seemed never ending, and although Liao did not mind it, its mere existence proved to be a significant distraction from the actual business of captaining.

A buzz at the door caused her to put down her pen. "Yes?"

The door swung open, revealing the happiest redhead in the world.

"Goooooood evening, Captain Liao!"

Liao nodded at the thoughtful use of her title. It seemed as though Rowe might actually be catching on to military protocol, something that pleased her greatly.

The woman was highly animated as she practically bounced into the room, her curled hair bobbing as she moved.

"What do you have for me, Rowe?"

"Just my weekly report, Captain!"

Liao took it but did not have time to read it in full. Instead, she placed it to one side, folding her hands in front of her. "I'll make that bedtime reading." She grinned slyly. "I've been having trouble getting to sleep some nights, and I find your reports usually help."

"Probably. I never could write anything interesting. Do Hoare logic and propositional calculus, yes, but write an _essay_? Read a novel? Phht. I got a perfect score in math and _failed_ English. What does that tell you?"

Liao didn't have an answer for that, so she nodded her head and hoped the question was rhetorical. "I see. Well, how about you give me the _Reader's Digest_ version? How's the ship holding up?"

Rowe positively beamed. "Pretty good, actually. The nuke reactors are humming along nicely. We had a malfunction in artificial gravity on deck six at 0200, right during my shower, but that's fixed now. Just a subtle race condition in the micro-controller array; it seemed that the scheduler wasn't actually achieving atomic transactions under some circumstances, so we weren't getting mutual exclusion—"

Liao felt her aggravation quota slowly filling. "In layman's terms, Rowe. I'm not a..."—she gestured to her vaguely—"a computer person or whatever you are, okay?"

Summer laughed. "Okay, sure, sure. Well, anyway, see, the micro-controller is an eight-bit system, and whatever fuck-monkey coded this thing was passing in eight-bit numbers, right, but you see, it's expecting a signed—"

" _More_ layman, if you please."

Rowe stared a moment. "Computer machine broke. I fixed it."

"Good, that's what I wanted to hear." Liao casually tapped on the desk with the tip of a finger. "Will it happen again?"

"No. At least, it shouldn't as long as we're not mixing unsigned and signed..." She stopped, holding up her hands. "No, it shouldn't. I'm pretty sure."

Liao thought a moment. "Anything else to report?"

"Eh, nothing much. Sheng's inbox had to be cleaned out again. He's getting so many messages with encrypted images attached, and we didn't plan on keeping so much data on the ship's servers, so we have to repeatedly allocate him more storage space. Nobody else is having any problems."

Liao nodded. It was puzzling that her XO would be receiving those kinds of messages, but she dismissed it.

Rowe smirked. "He should probably cut down on his porn consumption."

Liao leaned in closer, her curiosity returning. Something about it nagged at her. " _Is_ it pornography? Did you see what the messages were?"

"Uh, no. I don't know what they were; I didn't see. Generally, if guys are getting heaps of pictures in their inboxes, it's usually photographs of cats with funny subtitles... or porn."

Liao nodded. "Okay, thank you. That's been most helpful. Let me know if you find anything else. You know where to find me."

"Tragically undersexed and working yourself to an early grave, right?"

Liao smiled a little. "Right. Good night, Summer."

_Corridor_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Day 19 of the shakedown cruise_

"So what do you want on your grave?"

Liao was walking past the deck to the waste management room when she overheard familiar voices, Lieutenants Jiang, Dao, and Ling all chatting with Summer Rowe. Although there was always something for the captain to do, on this particular occasion Liao decided that she should "gain an insider's perspective" on what the crew talked about when she wasn't around.

Or eavesdrop, in the urban vernacular. She leaned up against the bulkhead beside the door, listening to the conversation.

Dao chuckled. "There's an old saying, 'To live in hearts left behind... is not to die.' I like that one."

Jiang's voice was next. "I see." She sounded curious. "So you're... a family man, then?"

"Mmm, well, not yet, but I want to be some day, you know?"

Jiang sounded pleased with that answer. "Heh, that's... that's very sweet. I'd probably have 'I'm with stupid!' or something. Nothing deep or philosophical. That's not me."

Ling spoke up next, his quiet voice hard to hear. "I have no idea what I'd write. I don't like to think about death... especially not here, so far away from home."

There was a general murmur of agreement, and then Rowe's voice reached her ears. "I want 'Han shot first.'"

Liao rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe Rowe sometimes. Making her way down the ship's corridors, she left the conversation behind and focused on work.

_Operations_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Space near Jupiter_

_Day 43 of the shakedown cruise_

"Radar contact!"

Alarms rang out from the radar section. Twisting around to look at Lieutenant Ling, Liao glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide.

"Report, Mister Ling!"

Liao's command was terse, sharp, and more energetic than she had intended.

Their radar operator, Ling, hesitated a moment before speaking.

"I've got a radar contact. Letting the long-range emitter come around again so we can confirm it... confirming... confirmed. Ma'am, a contact appeared on long-range radar during our last sweep. Distance... approximately fifty-seven thousand kilometres off our port side."

Radar waves moved at the speed of light. At that distance, it would take about half a second for their radar signal to reach the target and an equal time to return. She frowned slightly; why hadn't they seen the contact until they were so close? It was practically right on top of them.

The contact, if it was a ship, could see the _Beijing_ almost immediately, of course, but it was safe to assume that whatever technology the demons had, it was equal to theirs or greater. So if they could see the demons, the demons could see them too. Perhaps they had been watching them for some time and only now decided to make themselves known.

Liao tapped her fingers on the metal of her command console. "Fifty-seven thousand. That would put it..."

Dao, the navigator, finished her sentence. "Smack dead in the L4 Lagrangian point, between Jupiter and the Sun." Dao's implication was immediately obvious to everyone. Their proximity to the Lagrangian point explained it all. The ship had _appeared_ there using a jump drive.

It was _them_. The demons were in the solar system.

But what were they doing here, so far from Earth? Liao burned with curiosity. She folded her hands together behind her, straightening her back and turning her whole body to Ling. "What's that ship's speed and heading?"

A moment's pause while Ling examined his monitor. The ops room was as quiet as a tomb, and Liao leaned forward expectantly.

Finally, Ling spoke. "Stationary, holding on the L4 point. Based on the radar reflection, it's weighing in at... approximately fifteen thousand tonnes. Length: sixty metres, the size of a standard patrol boat. Much smaller than the ship that attacked Earth."

Sheng inclined his head. "A scout?"

"Possibly." Liao frowned and leaned forward in her chair. "But scouting for _what_? Are the demons checking up on their handiwork? They're a hell of a long way from Earth. I'm disinclined to think they travelled who-knows-how-many light years to end up at the wrong planet."

Sheng didn't have an answer to that. He merely shrugged. "It isn't given to us to question our good fortune. Let's report this finding back to Task Force Command and terminate the shakedown cruise early. Helm, prepare to—"

"Belay that command." Liao leaned forward over her console, frowning. She looked up at Sheng's shocked face. "I have absolutely no intention of turning tail and running, Commander. This vessel is on his shakedown cruise—a test of his capabilities. Given the opportunity presented to us, I fully intend to test _all_ aspects of its performance."

Sheng stared down at his commander, open mouthed. "You're going to _engage_ them? Surely you can't be serious."

"I am serious." Then as an afterthought, "And as Rowe might say, don't call me Shirley. Power up the rail guns. Load all missile tubes, and charge the hull plating. Helm, intercept that ship. Maximum sub-light. All hands to general quarters."

The klaxon of the "general quarters" echoed throughout the corridors of the ship. Immediately the crew sprang into action; the heavy steel doors to the operations room, and all over the ship, slid closed. This prevented a breach in any one section from spreading.

Liao glanced over her shoulder. "Communications, relay to Task Force Command what we have found. Inform them that we will be engaging the enemy momentarily."

"Aye, ma'am!"

Sheng shook his head violently. "Captain! I must protest; this vessel is still being _tested_. It is not combat ready—"

"Despite this, I have every faith in this ship and his crew"—Liao's tone was even—"and I expect my orders to be obeyed. That hostile ship is significantly smaller, and presumably weaker, than the one that attacked Earth. Its appearance represents the perfect moment for us to test the _Triumph_ -class vessels in combat."

" _Presumably_ weaker?" Sheng practically spat out his words. "We have no idea what that ship can do or if our weapons can even harm it. The mere fact that they're here, and the intelligence we've gained from observing them, is invaluable!"

"I would have thought you'd appreciate the chance to bloody their noses, Commander Sheng." Liao regarded him curiously. "After what happened in Beijing, I would have thought you'd jump at the chance..."

"These demons represent a power beyond what we are capable of destroying." Sheng jabbed a finger towards the radar screen near Liao. "So while your courage is admirable, I ask you... what if we lose? We'll have tipped our hand _and_ sacrificed this vessel for _nothing_ , a pointless waste of one third of our naval assets!"

"I'm aware of the risks, Commander, and I'm not being impulsive about this. In fact, I'd imagined that I'd be holding _you_ back in this situation." Liao carefully and deliberately articulated her words with calm precision. "But the reality is this: if we cannot defeat a simple scout ship one on one, holding the initiative and the element of surprise, then all hope for future engagements is already lost."

Sheng balled his fists, looking desperate. "Captain, please reconsider."

Liao did not listen. Instead, she moved over to the tactical console and tugged down on her jacket. "Enough, Commander. Tactical, weapons status?"

"All missile tubes loaded, rail guns at full power," was the reply from Lieutenant Jiang, the woman manning tactical.

"Thank you Mister Jiang." Although it had taken her some time to become accustomed to it after enlisting, as per naval tradition, even female officers were referred to as "Mister." Liao didn't exactly care for it, but it was a tradition and protocol. She recalled what she had heard her say earlier, "I'm with stupid." Funny at the time, less funny in hindsight.

"Ready to fire at your command."

"Good." Liao placed her hands on her hips. "Distance to target?"

"Fifty-six thousand kilometres. We are closing at fifty kilometres a second. The target is still stationary... no movement at all."

Liao wondered idly if the demons had seen them... or if they had but didn't care. The initiative lay with them, clearly, and Liao intended to use it.

"If they're going to just stand there and let us punch them, then let's bloody their noses good and proper. Tactical, align rail guns and prepare to fire."

"Captain"—moving behind her, Sheng leaned in closely— "I want my objections to this action noted in the ship's log."

Liao's head snapped around, and she glared at the man. "Commander Sheng, at your request, your objections will be formally noted in the ship's log. Now, prepare this ship to engage our contact."

Sheng seemed for a moment as though he would contest the move. Then, with an angry sigh, he nodded. "Sir."

The man return to his duty.

Bringing her attention to the command console before her, Liao took a breath and slowly let it out.

"Rail gun crews report ready," Jiang called.

Liao took another breath. Right at this moment, they stood at the precipice of either the first victory of mankind or a stunning, catastrophic defeat. Sheng's warnings echoed in her head—there was still time to avoid all this. They could still turn around and head back. There was some tactical sense in that decision. Even their brief contact would provide Task Force Command with a huge wealth of information on the demons, including the very fact that they were still visiting the solar system. The _Beijing_ 's passive sensors and optics would provide invaluable intelligence.

But there was more at stake here than simply facts about their enemies. Melissa firmly believed what she had said to Sheng earlier. If the demons... aliens... were so supremely powerful that one of their scouts, apparently caught unawares, could not be stopped by the best humanity had to offer, then their fight, their struggle, was already over. Liao might as well find out either way.

"Fire."

Act II

Chapter IV

****

Fortune

_*****_

_Operations Room_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Space, near Jupiter_

"FIRE."

FOR A MOMENT, NOTHING at all happened. Then a soft hum filled the operations room as, fuelled by the ship's nuclear reactors, the twin magnetic accelerators propelled their projectiles into space.

"Time to impact, Mister Jiang?" Liao asked.

"Fifteen seconds, Captain!"

"Mister Ling, any change in the target's position on radar?"

There was a slight pause as Ling interpreted the radar's information. "Negative, Captain. Due to the speed of the projectiles, by the time they see them, the target will only have a few seconds to react before impact."

There was a brief quiet as time ticked down. Liao inspected her radar, glancing between her senior officers to ensure that everything was still working. Then the radar operator spoke again.

"Captain, the projectiles have merged with the hostile target." A pause as Ling consulted his long-range radar screen. "I'm seeing numerous small contacts spreading out from the main ship in addition to a slight drop in mass. All consistent with a direct hit."

An elated murmur ran through the operations room. Ling's voice was triumphant as he twisted in his seat, grinning to his captain. "It's debris, Captain. Good effect on target."

Sheng called out from his own station. "Confirmed, Captain. There's a sizable debris field forming."

Liao nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent work. Helm, close the distance to target. Inform the marines to assemble a boarding crew and prepare to salvage what we can from the wreckage... and someone wake up Summer. I want our best engineering team on the job, and—"

"Captain!" Ling shouted over Liao, something that would be considered to be quite a significant breach of protocol. "The debris, it's _moving_!"

A hush fell over the ops room. Liao blinked in surprise. " _Moving_?"

"Straight towards us, Captain"—Ling's voice intensified—"in _formation_."

"他妈的!" spat Liao. "That's _not_ debris! How big are they?"

"Approximately twenty metres long, ten metres wide, five high." Ling spent a moment reading his radar again, tweaking some of the settings for a more accurate picture. "It's hard to tell since they're all close together, but it seems as though... it seems as though they're about the size of fighter aircraft."

The reality dawned on Liao. "That's what they are; they're _strike craft_." A pause as the information sank in. "How many?"

"Thirteen—no, fifteen. And they're closing fast," Sheng called, "as is the larger ship!"

"So if the 'debris' we saw are strike fighters, did the rail gun barrage even damage the larger ship _at all_?"

Liao was grateful that Ling nodded. "Yes, Captain. There is a lot of much smaller radar debris back at the Lagrangian point. We hit them all right, but to a fairly modest effect."

Summer had warned that the rail guns did a lot less damage than the nukes. They were moving so fast that the majority of their energy wasn't transmitted to the target—they instead tended to go "in and out," leaving a relatively manageable hole in the hull.

"Very well then. Keep hitting them with the rail gun, maximum sustainable rate of fire, and load all missile tubes. Then open the launch doors. When they get into effective range, nuke the strike craft."

The preparations were made in a tense silence punctuated only by the occasional soft hum of the rounds of rail gun fire.

"Status on rail gun effect?"

Ling shook his head. "Minimal, Captain. They're anticipating our shots and moving to compensate. Ten shots, two hits."

Twenty percent effectiveness, Liao mused to herself. That actually was not _too_ bad... but it wasn't too good, either.

"Just keep firing. Any evidence of return fire?"

"Negative, Capt—belay that, the strike craft are—"

Some kind of impact caused a faint rumble in the ship's bow, followed by several more in quick succession.

Lieutenant Jiang spoke up, her voice charged with energy.

"They're firing some kind of directed energy burst. External sensors report the hull temperature has increased by one hundred Kelvin, and there's significant beta and gamma radiation."

Liao put her hands on her hips. "Evasive manoeuvres. Avoid the blasts as best you can. Damage assessment?"

More rumbles. Jiang checked her sensors. "The forward hull is now at four hundred Kelvin, but the temperature is rising rapidly. If it reaches one thousand two hundred Kelvin, that's it—the alloy breaks down and returns to liquid state."

Liao imagined the front of the ship boiling off and the catastrophic damage that would cause. She nodded. "That would be bad."

Jiang, despite herself, couldn't help a dry chuckle. "That would be bad. Aye, ma'am."

Liao grinned a strange, proud grin. "Let's not break the ship on his first day out, then. Ling, weapons status?"

"We're too close for rail guns now. We can't turn our bow fast enough to aim. However, missile crews report they are ready to fire, Captain. The hostile strike craft are getting into range..." The ship shook a little more violently. Alarms called out from Jiang's console, echoing around the ops room. "... but their fire is getting more intense, more accurate. Forward hull at six hundred and eighty Kelvin!"

"Duly noted. The ship's ballistic, and since our guns are useless anyway, rotate us one-hundred-eighty degrees to the incoming fire. Present our rear to them, and prepare tubes one through six. Mister Ling, fire when ready!"

"Aye, ma'am!"

More and more shots hit the ship's hull, on the stern now. Liao put her hand on Ling's shoulder. "Missiles, Mister Ling! Fire them!"

"Belay that!" Commander Sheng's voice rang out across the room, cutting over the tactical chatter.

Liao spun about, a deep scowl on her face. Sheng moved over to her, stepping so close their faces were almost touching.

Sheng's voice was barely a whisper, pleading. "Liao, just _listen to me_. It's not too late to stop this! We can move past them, into the Lagrangian point, and jump back to Earth! The aliens will probably—"

"Follow us straight to Earth again, Mister Sheng. Or report their findings to their people, including their assessment of our significantly improved tactical situation. That's not a good outcome for us, no matter which way you spin it."

Resigned, he nodded. "As you wish, Captain." His face was hard but accepting, and he moved to his station.

Liao turned her attention to the operations room. Once again her Captain's Voice took action.

"Mister Ling."

"Yes, Captain?"

She squeezed the man's shoulder, articulating every word clearly and calmly despite the continued barrage of fire now hitting their stern. "Status. On. Missile. Tubes."

"Crew still report they are ready to fire, Captain."

Stepping over to his console, Liao jabbed a finger towards the man's radar screen, to the swarm of incoming contacts.

"Then _light them up_. Nuke those sons of bitches back to the galaxy they came from."

Ling gave a wild grin, seeming to agree with Liao's notion. His fingers flew over his keyboard, and a moment later, he nodded. "Missiles away, Captain."

Another tense silence filled the operations room as the missiles streaked towards their targets. Strangely, the hostile impacts stopped. The operations room became deafeningly quiet.

After a moment, Ling spoke. "I've lost communication with one of the missiles... might have been a dud."

Liao doubted that.

Sheng called back to Liao, "And another missile's out."

Jiang called from her console, "The energy barrages—they're shooting down our missiles, Captain!"

"Good." Liao's face held a firm, triumphant visage. The rest of the operations room looked at her as though she might be crazy, but Liao felt a surge of energy run through her. "That means they're _afraid_ of them."

Ling spoke. "All missiles defeated, Captain. 抱歉."

She nodded. "Not your fault. It was worth a shot anyw—"

Jiang shouted over her, "Wait, no! One of them got through. I'm reading a detonation!"

Liao turned to face her, eyes wide. "Effect?"

"Got about half of them," responded Ling, his voice triumphant. "They're debris now. And the rest are turning around! They're heading back to their mother ship, and it's... the larger ship is withdrawing!"

A spontaneous cheer rang up from the operations crew.

_"No!"_

Liao slammed her fist into the console in front of her. "Helm, pursuit course! Head to the Lagrangian point! I want to cut them off! We can't allow them to escape!"

"Uh... aye, Captain! Course laid in!"

She whirled back to Ling, her face set in a dark frown. "How many missiles do we have loaded and ready to fire?"

"Four, Captain. Tubes one through six are still reloading."

The aliens could not __ be allowed to retreat. To do so would permit them to return their findings to whatever blasted rock they came from and report that the Humans had attacked them. This would be the end of them; Earth only had three ships: one combat ready, one still in dry dock, and the _Beijing_ , __ barely out of its shakedown cruise and possibly damaged _._ If the alien ship jumped away and escaped, they would return in force.

The aliens had underestimated humanity once already. Liao anticipated they would not do so again.

She paused, taking a deep breath. There was no decision to make here. This was a matter of _action_.

"Four is enough; we'll make do with what we have. If we fire the missiles now, will they reach the Lagrangian point before the mother ship?"

Jiang, as though anticipating this very question, spoke up instantly. "Yes, Captain, if we turn our bow to them and fire as soon as possible, the missiles should arrive before the hostile ship does. Since we're already ballistic and moving at quite a fast pace, the missiles will go even faster."

Rowe's warning echoed in her mind. _Hilariously unsafe._ Well, Liao wasn't laughing.

"Then execute the manoeuvre and fire everything that we have at the hostile mother ship, all four tubes. I want them blown to atoms before they reach the jump point."

"Coming about, Captain."

She nodded. Her father had always told her to finish what she started. It was a problem she'd had since childhood—she was excellent at beginning things but less skilled at finishing them. However, this was one thing she had to finish. Humanity's future depended on it.

"Fire when ready."

Liao felt the ship turn and then watched as the four lights indicating missile launch status turned green. The missiles, magnetically propelled and with rockets for guidance, streaked towards the hostile ship. Liao impatiently tapped her finger on the metal of the console in front of her.

The seconds passed.

"Hostile strike craft have docked with the mother ship, Captain... and now it's increasing speed."

Liao's frown intensified. "How far away are they from the Lagrangian point?"

Despondent, Jiang shook her head. "They're going to reach it before the missile strike."

So it was all for nothing. Liao's fists balled in anger. She refused to accept this outcome. It wasn't fair to condemn humanity to extinction because of this incident, because of a single period in time when they had failed... when _she_ had failed.

"Options."

Dead silence. Nobody had any.

Jiang's voice was quiet in the still air of the Operations room as she voiced her thoughts. "They may not jump straight away. Maybe their jump drive has a charge period like ours."

"This is no time for guesses, Mister Jiang."

More silence. Then a voice cut through the quiet of the operations room; it was Lieutenant Ling, his voice charged with energy.

"Captain, I have an idea! Fire rail guns!"

His shout came without warning, startling everyone in the area. All eyes were upon him as he tapped furiously on his keyboard.

Liao stepped over to his console.

"Mister Ling, explain yourself."

The man twisted in his seat, grinning like a wild man. "We can't hit them because they're too manoeuvrable, but we know where they're _going_. If we bombard the Lagrangian point, they can't use it! They'd have to move into our line of fire to jump!"

"Do it," said Liao, gesturing to Jiang. Ling returned to his console. "They're pulling into the point, but... sensors show impacts—it's working. They're moving. They're pulling away!"

It was those few extra seconds that they needed. Jiang gave a triumphant cry. "Missile impacts! Direct hits—four detonations!"

Ling, despite the situation, gave a triumphant laugh. "I'm reading a massive debris field! They've been blown to bits!"

Liao let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. A momentary wave of light-headedness washed over her. How many seconds had she held it? Minutes? It didn't matter.

"Mister Jiang, Mister Ling, confirm that ship is wreckage. I want an engineering team to pick up _every damn piece_ of that boat, and I want it stowed in the cargo hold. _Everything_. Save as much as you can from as much as you can." She clicked her tongue. "If we can find their computer core or their jump drive, then the drinks in the mess hall are going to be on me."

"Aye aye, Captain. We'll begin recovery operations immediately. We'll get everyone we have on the job."

"Good. When you have as much as you can get, make your best speed back to the lunar colony."

She spun about on her heel, striding for the exit. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in engineering, supervising the salvage. Lieutenant Jiang, talk to Commander Sheng if you need anything. Well done, everyone."

_Sheng's Office_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Deep Space_

_An hour later_

Lieutenant Jiang saw that the door to Sheng's office was ajar. She stepped up to the door, her clipboard in her hand, but stopped when she heard his voice.

"That's correct, Miss Bose. The hostile ship was destroyed. We're just salvaging what we can now."

There was a prolonged silence, followed by Sheng speaking again. "No, they're definitely destroyed. It doesn't matter; the move was reckless, and I feel she should be relieved of command for this, but... I could find no examples of her _directly_ contravening any Task Force Resolution directives. I plan, however, to address them with her at the post-action debriefing, and I'll be petitioning the senior staff to support me relieving her. I already know several members in her senior staff who'll support me, and—"

Jiang pushed on the door, which groaned slightly as it swung open. Stepping inside, she handed the clipboard to Sheng. "The after-action report, sir."

Sheng, appearing surprised as though not expecting to be overheard, quickly recovered, took the paper, and glanced at it then up at her. "Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all."

She turned to leave but then stopped, her hand resting on the door's handle. "Who were you speaking to, sir?"

Sheng stared at her, his hands folding in front of him on the table, and he said nothing.

_Brig_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Deep Space_

_Fifteen minutes later_

Liao could not believe what Jiang had told her. The message came through just as she was entering engineering, that Jiang had heard her XO surreptitiously conversing, without explicit authority, with the press. A quick call to the ship's marines had Sheng detained while she took care of business in engineering. Then with her anger barely kept in check, she stormed to the ship's brig.

When she got there, Liao opened the door to Sheng's cell and, without saying a word, punched him square in the face, knocking the man down. Blood splattered onto the bare metal of the deck. Coughing, Commander Gaulung Sheng wiped his face with his sleeve, his voice incredulous.

"什么他妈的?!"

" _Don't_. Don't you fucking _dare_ speak to me, you piece of _shit_." She leaned forward, fists balled in rage, as though she might strike him again. "I make a decision you don't like, on _my_ ship, and you run squealing to the press? I should have you shot for this!"

"So that's how you run your command, is it?" His voice dripped with venom. "Just line up the objectors and shoot 'em? Is that how it goes?"

She pulled back her fist. Then, changing her mind, she lowered it. "I'll tell you how it goes. You're _gone_ from this mission. We're returning to the lunar dry dock. The very second we arrive—assuming I don't change my mind between here and there and simply toss you out an airlock—I'm turning you over to the military police. Your career is _over_."

Sheng shrugged, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He stared down the shorter woman, his face a determined mask. "It doesn't matter. Getting rid of me won't change what happened. You made the wrong choice today, and worse, you blamed me and wouldn't let me do _my_ job. My job is to advise you, to keep you on track, to follow the damn mission—"

"Your job is to follow my fucking _orders_!"

"That's _not_ how it works, and you know it!" Sheng jabbed an accusatory finger straight at her. "Or you would, if you hadn't gotten this command by sheer _luck_. You haven't served your time as an XO. You were _given_ this command, this precious, important command, because you're a filthy whore who'll spread herself for the tall, handsome French Negro to advance her career!"

The allegation struck her like a kick to the teeth. "You think James—Captain Grégoire—and I—"

"Isn't it true?"

" _No!_ " Liao leaned forward, snarling. "Where the hell did you hear that? If I find out who's got a big mouth, they'll be joining you in this cell for attempting to undermine the authority of the Capta—"

"Captain? _Ha_. This was meant to be _my_ command!" Sheng snarled now, his visage distorted with rage. " _I_ was supposed to be the _Beijing_ 's captain, but at the last minute, the committee decided on you. _You!_ A _woman—_ someone who had never been trusted with command, who had no experience, a... a _navigator_! They gave the keys of the most powerful warship mankind can build to a fucking _glorified bus driver_!"

Melissa's fists balled. "My relationship with James is _none_ of your fucking..."

Liao paused, took a deep breath, and forced herself to remain calm. After a brief moment to compose herself, she straightened her uniform, not looking at Sheng.

"Two things," she offered, finally meeting his gaze.

Sheng shrugged indifferently.

Liao continued. "He _is_ tall. He _is_ handsome. And he _is_ a Negro. Now, first and foremost, Captain James Grégoire is _Belgian,_ not _French_. Secondly, he and I are great friends, but we've never slept together."

"Liar. I've seen how he looks at you."

Liao took her turn to shrug. "Believe what you want. Your words are shit to me."

With a swift swing of her fist, she cracked the man in the nose again. Rubbing her fist with her other hand, she regarded the man lying, once again, prone on the metal deck.

"My mistake; that was _three_ things."

Almost as though on cue, the radio on her belt crackled. She heard Jiang's voice through the line. "Operations to Captain Liao."

Liao pulled the device off her belt with a sharp _click_ , casually pressing the talk key. She locked gazes with the dazed, bloody man lying before her.

"This is Liao. I'm a _little_ busy, Lieutenant."

Jiang's voice stressed her urgency. "Ma'am, our engineering team has begun recovery of the wreckage. It's spreading out faster than we had anticipated, so we focused our efforts on the largest pieces. We've found something you need to see."

Liao pressed down on the talk key so hard the plastic creaked. "Their jump drive?" If the forces of humanity could salvage that, it might allow them to vastly improve their capabilities. It would provide an incredible insight into the demons' technology.

She could almost hear Jiang shake her head on the other end of the line. "Negative, ma'am. We haven't found it, and it looks to have been destroyed."

Jiang paused, as though receiving information from another source. In the gap, Sheng spoke up.

"So we're absolutely sure we got them?"

Liao regarded him for a moment and then slowly nodded. "Blew them to scrap."

"Thank God."

Liao didn't know what to say to that, but before she got her chance, the radio crackled again. "Ma'am? Are you alone?"

Melissa shrugged to Sheng, activating the radio again with her bloody fingers. "More or less."

"We recovered one of the aliens, ma'am. Our engineering teams cut it from one of the strike craft docked with the mother ship. Their hangar bays are very well armoured, and that protected it from being vaporised when we nuked them. The others were either outside the shielded area or farther inside, and they appear to have been annihilated by secondary explosions."

Liao nodded. "Good work, Mister Jiang. Have the body brought to the morgue, and freeze it. I want a full autopsy done when we get back to the lunar colony."

"Captain, you misunderstand." Jiang paused.

"It's _still alive_."

Chapter V

****

The Demon's Stories

_*****_

_Emergency Surgery Ward_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Space near Jupiter_

_One hour later_

"WILL IT LIVE?"

LIAO STOOD, arms crossed, watching through the glass shielding the surgical ward from the rest of the medical bay.

The creature that lay on the other side was, for lack of a better word, completely alien. It was bipedal as far as they could tell, with two arms, two legs, and a head, but that's where the similarities to Humans ended.

Its entire body was covered in sleek, black fur. It had short, distinctly feline, rounded ears that stood on top of its head; large, flared nostrils; and a long, thin tail that limply hung off of the surgical table.

It had six breasts and vaguely female genitals. Although it was unconscious, their examination had found it had brilliant golden eyes with slit pupils.

The doctor Liao was talking to, a bald Iranian man on loan from the TFR _Tehran_ , Amir Saeed, shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? Its biology is completely unlike anything I've ever seen, obviously, so all we can do is very basic things. Treat her wounds, try to stabilize her. To be fair, though, she doesn't appear to be that badly injured. Some burns, some radiation poisoning, probably a concussion. Nothing we can't handle."

Liao worried, placing her finger on her lower lip. "Do your very best, doctor. This creature represents a huge, _huge_ wealth of intelligence. Just think what it could tell us."

Saeed nodded. "We will, Captain. As I said, its prognosis is good so far, but I'll keep you posted."

Liao paused, staring through the glass. Despite its wounds, she could see the creature was nearly seven feet tall and very muscular—its physical power was undeniable. She did not want to take any chances.

"Have it shackled," she ordered a nearby marine, "hands and feet. A muzzle, too. I don't like the look of those teeth. Have one of the engineers fabricate one if you have to. I want round-the-clock supervision. Allocate your best men to the task. Pull manpower from other divisions; I don't care. Just make sure it doesn't hurt anyone or itself." Liao watched it breathe, unconscious and unmoving. "It's valuable to us."

The hours passed while the creature remained unconscious. Liao wanted to stay there until it finally woke up, but the duties of a ship's captain were too much for her to ignore, especially without an XO to take care of the details.

When she returned after several hours of meaningless paperwork, Rowe had joined them in the surgical ward. The redhead had her face pressed up against the glass, watching the alien curiously.

"What do you think they eat?"

Liao blinked. "Who knows? I'm certain that whatever we have will be fine."

Rowe shook her head. "No, really. I mean, you want to keep it alive, right? I mean—Humans have to drink every few hours or so. She's been in there for, like, four hours now, and she's hurt. She'll probably want a drink, you know, but we don't even know what they drink or _if_ they drink at all."

It was a good point. Liao crossed her arms.

"I'm sure that doctor Saeed is doing what he can to find out."

Liao knew that was true, but the statement was as much a prayer as it was anything else. Rowe, seemingly unconvinced, continued to stare at the creature.

"I suppose we'll have to learn its language. Do you think they can even speak English? Or any of our languages? I mean, are they even physically capable of doing so?"

The demons had left behind a message in Chinese, but analysis of the recording had suggested it was generated by a machine, not by a living tongue. Liao shrugged. "We'll find out eventually. As it stands, I've already tapped Lieutenant Yu to be our translator, and I don't know how they communicate. Maybe it's not even the same way we do. I had hoped for Jiang to do it, but we need her in operations. She did a damn fine job during the engagement, and I'd like to keep her there as much as possible."

_A far better job than_ some _others,_ Liao mused to herself, thinking of Sheng.

Rowe chuckled. "Yu's smart, I'll give him that. Let's hope he's up to the task."

A silent moment passed as the two women observed the doctors changing the bloodstained bandages on the creature's left arm. The alien's blood, it seemed, was dark purple.

"Do you think we'll always be at war?" Rowe turned to Liao, raising a red-haired eyebrow. "I mean, we don't have any solid idea why they attacked us. Their message indicated that it might have been the jump drive we were about to test, but what if it was for some other reason? What if they just wanted to fight, wanted to kill us for the sheer fun of watching us burn from orbit?"

"I don't know." Liao's voice was quiet. "I wish peace were possible, but I don't hold out much hope for that even if they do have peaceful intentions. The demons are powerful, but well, it's one of those things. It's been a constant of Human history that, no matter how well intentioned, when a more advanced civilization meets a less advanced civilization, it _never_ ends well for the less advanced civilization."

Rowe nodded. "Can't say I disagree. Look what happened to the Australian Aborigines... Native American Indians... indigenous Japanese..."

Liao grinned, a tad sardonically. "Unfortunately, this time the less advanced civilization is _us_. I intend to buck the trend in regard to unfavourable outcomes."

The redhead glanced at her. "Isn't it a bit late for tha—"

A smash and a loud, feline snarl came from behind the glass. Both women jumped back from the window, startled. The eyes of the alien creature were open, and the thick, strong digits of a black-furred hand were wrapped tightly around the neck of the nurse attending it, crushing the life from him. The broken shackles were still around its wrists; Liao was stunned by its strength.

The marines raised their rifles, and Liao shouted as loudly as she could.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

Fortunately, they didn't immediately shoot. Liao unbuckled and drew her sidearm, glancing at Rowe.

"Stay here and lock the door behind me."

"But—"

_"Stay."_

With that, she pushed open the door and rushed into the surgical ward. Emitting a deep growling noise, the alien held the nurse up by his throat. It seemed weak from its injuries, its other hand propping itself up against the metal operating table, but despite its disorientation, it regarded the three marines and Liao with angry, golden eyes. It saw their weapons and uniforms, and it observed the way the marines obeyed the newcomer's orders. Liao could instantly tell that its seemingly bestial nature belied a deep, calculating intelligence.

And then it spoke. The language sounded like nothing Liao had ever heard. It was a growling tone, articulated with speed and significant tonal differences, as though someone had mashed together various phonetic sounds from languages nobody had ever spoken before. It was distinctly non-Human, as though it was the product of a computer program.

"I don't understand," Liao answered, her tone charged, "but you're in no danger as long as you do _not_ harm anyone."

The creature jabbered again in its strange tongue, angry and fearful. It seemed to tighten its grip around the nurse's windpipe, causing him to flail feebly at the much-stronger alien's arm. In response, Liao raised her pistol, pointing it at the creature's chest.

"Down! Put him _down!_ "

With comprehension that seemed to exceed the language barrier between the two species, the alien seemed to consider what it was doing, and then roughly pushed the nurse away. The man slumped against a wall, gasping raggedly for breath.

Calm silence pervaded the standoff. Liao stared into the alien's yellow eyes. Slowly, but surely, the creature pointed at its chest with its now free hand.

"Saara."

At least, that's what Liao heard. The name was hard to tell through the bizarre creature's growling tone. Liao slowly lowered her sidearm, motioning for the marines to do the same.

She pointed at her chest, as it did. "Liao."

Melissa slowly pointed to the marines, each in turn. "Human. Human. Human." Then to herself. "Human."

Seeming to understand, Saara blinked her yellow eyes, pointing again at herself. "Toralii."

So the demons had a name now. The Toralii. It wasn't a perfect translation, but it would do for now. Liao reached for her radio. Saara's eyes widened, and she growled, low and threatening. Carefully, Liao holstered her sidearm. Then slowly, slowly, she reached down for the radio and clicked "talk."

"This is Captain Liao to operations."

"Operations, this is Jiang."

"Please inform Lieutenant Yu that his services are required in the medical bay. The alien has awoken. Liao out."

She ended the conversation, looking at the strange alien, who stared back at her with eyes Liao found quite clear, intelligent, and fearful.

_Engineering Bay Six_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Deep Space_

_The next day_

Liao folded her arms and listened as Rowe droned on. The woman was practically in a frenzy, as if she were two people crammed into one body. She scarcely paused for breath as she spoke in one huge unbroken sentence that leapt from topic to topic such that Liao couldn't get a word in edgeways. Her red hair billowed around her head as she described every single thing she and her team had discovered about the alien wreckage, most notably the almost intact strike craft that they had recovered.

Rowe brandished a short, stubby, thick, black device that had bright-pink cables pouring out of it like the head of some mutant squid. She gave it a rough shake, continuing to babble on.

"And _this_ part, well, fuck me. We don't even know _what_ it does or what subsystem it's part of. All we know is that if we run an electric current through it, it grows and expands based on the voltage. For all we know, it's a giant space dildo! I mean, _whaaaaah?_ Who knows _why_ they would keep this thing in the _cockpit_."

She tossed it away and picked up a rectangular box that seemed to be missing a side, revealing all manner of strange glowing circuits inside. When Rowe tipped it over, a navy-blue goo slopped out, which she utterly ignored.

"Now there's _this_ thing. We think it's part of the weapon system since we found it right next to the energy projector there. I mean... maybe... but it's _cool_ no matter what it is. See that blue shit? See how it's just running everywhere? That stuff's wonder-goo. It absorbs electricity—if you touch a battery to it, it drains it completely flat as fast as the device can discharge it. Where does that power go? How much can it take? No idea! And if you stomp on it—"

The woman raised a sneaker and slammed it down on the puddle of liquid. Instead of splashing, the liquid immediately glowed a bright yellow and hardened, returning to its blue-liquid state when her foot stopped.

"Isn't that just the coolest, most _awesome_ thing you've ever seen? We think it's designed with a dual purpose, to absorb the heat energy of the weapon when it's firing and as a safety device. If the weapon explodes, well, this stuff goes super hard and prevents the explosion from taking out the whole ship. We reckon that's what prevented this little bugger from blowing up with the rest of them when its beam emitter overheated. These giant, fuzzy fuckers are clever, I'll give them that!"

So they hadn't recovered the alien's energy weapon or their jump drive. Blowing out a disappointed sigh, Liao put her hands on her hips. Rowe reached for her pen and instinctively pressed the clicker. Liao shot her a dark look, and Rowe shrugged her shoulders.

"Put that damn thing away. The way you hold it, you're going to put someone's eye out."

"Ugh... _fine._ " Fortunately, the pen went away again.

Liao tried to get Rowe to focus. "What else did you find?"

"Ray gun."

Rowe bent over, fumbling around in the debris for a moment, and triumphantly pulled out a small device with a pistol grip.

"It was on the alien we cut out of the wreckage. We think they're for self-defence."

Liao tilted her head to one side. "Why would you think that?"

With a shrug, Summer casually aimed the device at a bulkhead—

"Wait, WHAT ARE—"

She depressed the trigger. A bright-orange orb the size of a baseball leapt from the tip of the weapon and struck the bulkhead, leaving a trail of sparkling energy behind. The metal immediately sagged and melted like a block of cheese in the microwave, the impact zone glowing a grim, fiery red.

"See? Ray gun. Can you imagine how much this shit would get on eBay?"

With what Liao thought was a shocking disregard for personal safety, Rowe tossed the device over her shoulder and jumped on top of a three-metre-long, suspiciously bomb-shaped object—sans fins—which she straddled, waving an imaginary cowboy hat above her head.

"Check it out, I'm Major Kong!"

The image of Rowe riding the eerie device caused Liao's blood to run cold. She recognized the reference— _Doctor Strangelove_ , a black-and-white movie about the Cold War. Workmen began to dismantle another section of the ship in the background, slicing it into pieces, and Liao had to shout over the noise of workmen cutting, drilling, disassembling. "That... that thing's a _bomb_?"

"It's a breaching charge," Summer clarified, "we think. Basically, we reckon that these little fighters have two primary weapons; their energy weapons heat and soften the hull of target ships, and when it's all nice and melty, they drop this right on the weakened area. No idea how much energy they output or what the trigger mechanism is. But hey, _so_ cool."

Liao frowned darkly. "You mean you don't know... if it's safe? That thing could be a _live ordnance_?"

"Ha ha, we have absolutely no fucking idea!" Laughing, Rowe gave it a firm pat, rubbing her palm in circles over the front of the horrid device, seeming unconcerned and grinning like a kid in a toy store.

Liao was not impressed. "I want that _thing_ moved to a different cargo bay. If it goes off in here we could lose—"

Summer laughed dismissively. "Captain, Captain, Captain. We have nukes that can fit inside a suitcase, and this thing is big enough for me to sit on. I'm pretty sure that if it goes off here, nobody on this whole ship is going to have time to shit their pants before they're dead."

"That... is _not_ reassuring."

"Oh, lighten up, Captain tight-pants! You _really_ need to get _laid_. You'd be much more relaxed about space aliens and their loot. Hey, maybe I can lend you the space dildo."

Rolling her eyes, Liao could bear no more of the excitable woman's idiocy. She turned on her heel and left, calling as she went.

"I expect your report within the week, Rowe." She stopped, glancing over her shoulder. "And Summer?"

"Yes?"

"If you discharge _any_ weapon on board my ship without authorization, _ever again_ , I will throw your body out an airlock."

_Brig_

_TFR_ Beijing

_En route to the lunar colony_

_Three weeks later_

They had learnt so much about the creature in three weeks. Their first and most pressing concern was Saara's survival. They placed a number of potential food objects in her cell, including water, along with models of the chemical composition of the stuff drawn on a whiteboard. They included other documentation as well—sketches of a large lake, a raindrop, pictures of clouds and rain.

Liao and Yu left her with a bright blue marker and a whiteboard, with the intention that she could draw anything she required. Saara, it seemed, grasped the concept quickly. The Humans were afraid she wouldn't understand. Fortunately she did, and feeding her was even easier. Her diet seemed very broad. She ate the dried fish, rice, assorted vegetables, and red meats they gave her, all without verbal or physical complaint. Her wounds were healing much faster than a Human's would, and by the third day, her bandages were removed entirely. By the second week, there was no indication she was injured at all.

The marines on board, who detested her presence, didn't like that one bit.

Liao was stunned by the careful manner in which their prisoner ate. She expected the Toralii to eat like some kind of bogeyman, tearing at her meal with savage abandon, but this was not the case. Saara used her claws to separate meat from bone and skin from fruit, dexterously placing food in her mouth with surprising care. She cleaned up any dropped morsel or crumb, at first with the back of her hand and then later with the napkins they provided.

Clothing her turned out to be difficult. They did not have a tailor on board and only a limited supply of uniforms. The clothing she had worn when she arrived, some kind of skin-tight spacesuit, had been cut to ribbons by the surgical team, and Rowe was doing her best to analyse the strange fabric. As a short-term measure, several of the crew, under Liao's instructions, cut and crudely sewed several towels together to form a sort of large, oversize bathrobe for her to wear. It wasn't stylish, but at least Saara wasn't naked. Two were made, and they were washed every alternate day. More permanent clothing, Liao was told, was to be expected in the next resupply shipment.

Their language and communication progressed as well, and Liao worked with Yu to study as much as they could. In the end, although she could spend far less time with Saara than Yu was able to, Liao's talent for languages allowed her to keep up. The two of them discussed the Toralii language at length, always with Saara present so they could learn from her.

Most tellingly, Liao subtly shifted the way she referred to the alien as well. Instead of being an "it," Saara became "she," a change that had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the crew.

The _Beijing_ was still without a first officer, but Jiang had admirably stepped up as the de facto XO. She couldn't stay there, of course, and Liao would have to find a replacement for Sheng. There were hundreds of potentials out there, most of them from the other nations of the world, but she hadn't found the time to go through them yet. About a week after the battle, though, she learned she wouldn't have to.

During one of her daily reports to Earth, she was told that the TFR _Sydney_ would not be ready to launch for another four months due to issues with its navigation system. The work crews had, for months, blamed Iranian steelworkers for the issues with the structural defects in the ship's superstructure interfering with the long-range radar, but it was discovered that it was the long-range radar system itself—designed by the PRC—that was at fault. The ship's core systems would require extensive rework.

Accordingly, the _Tehran_ 's first officer, Commander Kamal Iraj, was offered to Liao to replace Sheng. The move was entirely political, an effort to save face and appease their allies. When the truth was discovered, the Iranians threw wild accusations back and forth until the PRC finally offered to make the _Beijing's_ first officer one of their own. The Australians hadn't cared about whose fault it was.

Liao didn't care about the nationality of the officer, though. She wanted someone who spoke good English—like all her crew—who was skilled and dedicated to the job, and who could give her advice but not get his or her nose out of joint if she refused it.

Mister Iraj seemed to fit the bill quite nicely. His operational history showed that he had served with distinction in a number of fields, and most importantly to Liao, wasn't driven to command. He had only been offered the position due to his outstanding performance in his role as logistician, and he had even admitted that he was only accepting the job because he was the most logical choice for the position.

But the appointment of Mister Iraj seemed like a lifetime away. Liao and Yu were partaking in another round of language exchange with Saara in her cell as the marines looked on. Liao couldn't help but feel vaguely uncomfortable with their serious, dour faces as they studied the Toralii female. Many continued to be angry about her presence. Liao knew that, but they were there to follow orders.

"Where do you come from?"

Liao had asked this question before, but it was an important one. The Toralii could not physically speak their language and they could not speak hers. Instead they took turns, each speaking their own language.

["From... star."]

It had taken Liao a number of days to become accustomed to the phonetic structure, but she could understand what the creature was saying fairly well. They had learned the words of each others' languages by pictures; they would show Saara a picture and then say the word until she learned it. Then she would say her language's word until the humans learned it.

"Which star _specifically_?"

Saara shrugged helplessly. Liao knew it was a hard question. How could Saara possibly give them the exact location of her home system? The language barrier aside, it was clear that this information was something she did not want to divulge even if she knew it.

Liao tried another question.

"Why did you attack us?"

Another shrug.

Liao and Yu had prepared sketches for today's lesson, which they produced. The first sketch was a variety of human foods that Liao named. Both Yu and Liao were startled by how quickly Saara grasped their language. She usually only required them to show her a new concept once or twice before it was stamped into her brain. It was a remarkably quick process, although due to the nature of it, abstract concepts such as "economics" or "honour" proved difficult.

This was a two-way street, as well. Saara was unable to produce the sounds of any human language, so Yu and Liao had to learn Saara's strange Toralii tongue so they could understand what she was saying back to them. This proved easier than Liao had imagined. The Toralii dialect Saara spoke—at least, this is what Liao _thought_ she was trying to say—was specifically designed to be as easy to learn as possible.

Even so, Liao observed that Saara learned as fast as she healed, which was almost supernaturally fast.

["Apple. Pear. Peach. Plum."]

"Apple. Pear. Peach. Plum. Very good. The apple—how does it taste?"

["Sweet."]

"Sweet. And the tomato?"

["Tomato... savoury."]

"Savoury. Again, very good."

And so it went on for weeks as the _Beijing_ hid in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. Liao and Yu broadened their knowledge of Saara and taught her their own. Liao and Yu found that Saara was outpacing them both. She could hold a basic conversation within no time, and, when they grew close to the Moon, her fluency was startling. When her language skills improved enough, they gave her a dictionary, which she spent every last second devouring with a surprising voraciousness.

Three days before their arrival at the lunar colony, Liao and Yu stepped into Saara's cell to begin their daily lessons. As they did, they heard Saara muttering quietly to herself—a kind of a chant or incantation, based on the rhythmic nature of her intonations.

"Are you alright?" Liao asked, causing Saara to jump—obviously she had not been expecting anyone to listen.

["Yes. I was merely reciting one of the stories of my people."]

"Stories?" The Toralii's grasp on English improved daily, and Melissa remained impressed with Saara's progress.

["That is correct. Of the Toralii, my people are called the Telvan, much as you are Chinese, from within the humans. The Telvan... we are documentarians and academics. We document and record what we can about everything we find. A useful way to store this information, and the way many lessons are taught in our..."] she struggled for a moment, ["education buildings for children... is that we retell them as a story."]

"Education building for... you mean a _school_."

["Yes... school."]

On a wild impulse, Liao smiled. "Perhaps our lesson today could take the form of a story then? You talk, and we'll listen."

Saara's eyes widened in confusion. ["You wish to hear one of my people's stories?"]

Yu chimed in. "Of course. We want to hear everything you have to say. Everything we can learn from you is something valuable for us. Stories are an important transmitter of cultural values. It is from your stories that we can judge you, much as you have no doubt judged us."

Saara seemed impressed, but her eyes cautiously flicked to the watching marines. Nevertheless, she seemed to smile with her eyes more than her lips, her ears perking up.

["Perhaps you would hear the story of our greatest treasure, then.

["Back before our people united under a single cause, we were fractured, warlike, quarrelsome people who grouped in nation-states and fought constantly with our own kind. The hills of the Kaater Mountains, they say, saw so much fighting that they were forever stained the colour of dried blood.

["Eventually, as these things tend to do, the strongest of all the armies, the Neralan, broke through the battle lines and pressed on through the defenders' homelands. They were intent on plundering and pillaging, and the stories they heard as they moved through the ruined townships near the battle lines excited them to no end—tales of Evarel's most beautiful and most precious treasure, held by the Autiellans.

["The more they heard about this treasure, the more they desired it. Moving beyond the barren wastelands of the battlefield and into the lush, fertile farmland of Autiella, whose armies were broken and no longer able to defend their land, they heard little else. Eager for conquest, and with their bloodlust stoked to a roaring flame, the Neralanese wanted the treasure... and at first they tried the direct approach.

["The first village the Neralanese raided was slaughtered save a single survivor. When they interrogated her, she told them that the treasure had previously been there, yes, but was there no longer. The village over the mountain had it. She would say no more despite their best efforts, so they executed her and moved on.

["The raid on the second village, the one over the mountain, was more carefully planned. In a lightning raid, the farmhouses were torched and the entire population of villagers rounded up and captured. But these Autiellans too insisted that the treasure had fled the village when the Neralanese arrived. Once again, the Autiellans would not say what the treasure was. But looking around them at their fertile lands, happy and fat citizens, and many children, the Neralanese reasoned it must be powerful indeed.

["After executing the population of the second village and moving on, the Neralanese took even more care with their next raid; it was conducted under the cover of darkness, and the Autiellan guards were disabled by darts filled with sleeping poison. It looked as though this raid, like the last, would be a success, but the Neralanese had driven too far into Autiellan territory. As the main army approached the village, seemingly unopposed, the Autiellans' reserves sprang their ambush, and the surprised Neralanese were butchered.

["The leader of the Neralanese was brought before the Autiellans and, in a voice approaching that of madness, he asked the Autiellans if the treasure was in _this_ village. They responded that it was. Before her execution, she was asked if she had any last requests. The leader said that she wanted to know what the treasure was.

["The Autiellans explained that the greatest treasure their people could ever have... was peace. It had brought them bountiful crops and happy lives. Some say the Neralanese leader realized the folly of her actions before she was executed, while others insist that she went to her grave cursing and spitting at the Autiellans for their 'lies.' What is certain, though, is that the Neralanese never invaded Autiella again."]

Liao could barely believe that the species that had attacked her home planet would have such complex morals, especially ones that would hold _peace,_ of all things, in such high esteem. It was like meeting Genghis Khan, only to have him pontificate about the joys of monogamy.

"It's... certainly an interesting story."

["It is."]

Liao considered it for some time, holding her chin in her hands. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and reserved.

"Since you claim that peace is the greatest treasure a society can have, do you think there will ever be peace between our people?"

It was Saara's turn to be introspective. Her yellow eyes flicked between Yu and Liao, examining each of them in measure, the Toralii female ever so carefully considering her response.

["Yes, assuming you abandon your efforts to develop Voidwarp technology."]

The two humans exchanged a confused glance. "Voidwarp." Saara had used a word which they didn't understand but which used the roots of two other words they had learned together.

Liao looked to Yu, nodding her head in encouragement. "Voidwarp? You mean the jump drive?"

["Yes, what you would call 'jump drive.' Agree to abandon it, and we may have peace. The Toralii have diplomatic relations with many species who take this path, especially the Telvan, who are not warlike. Trade alliances, social alliances... military alliances are theoretically forbidden by our laws, but we protect our allies in practice. However, again, this is assuming they make no moves to possess Voidwarp technology."]

Liao shook her head. Her tone was understanding and a little sad but resolute. "Unfortunately, that won't be possible. Could you share your knowledge with us? We could work together, move beyond what has happened and—"

["Then I believe our peoples will always be at war, Captain, until one of us is defeated."] Saara turned away from both of them, staring absently at the plain metal of the bulkhead. ["I am sorry, Captain Liao. What you say makes sense, of a sort, but if you understood, you would not ask such a thing."]

"Tell me what we need to learn," said Liao, "and perhaps we might surprise you."

For a moment Saara considered, but then she shook her head, still avoiding Liao's gaze. ["It is too complex and yet too simple. I am sorry."]

"I'm sorry, too."

Saara finally looked at her. ["For what it is worth, you strike me as a kind and noble person even if you are my enemy. In another life, I think you and I could have been... good friends."]

"Agreed..." Liao answered softly, her voice tinged with regret, "in another life."

Chapter VI

****

Beginnings and Ends

_*****_

_Docking Umbilical_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Mars/Jupiter Asteroid Belt_

_Four weeks later_

THE TFR _T_ _EHRAN_ DOCKED WITH the _Beijing_ , the first time the great pillars had ever physically joined. Liao made her way to the docking umbilical. She was afforded the captain's privilege of being the first to disembark from the vessel.

From the moment she stepped off the cold steel of the _Beijing_ 's decks, she was accosted by a throng of reporters who fought and shoved to be the first to question her.

"Captain Liao! Captain Liao! Shreya Bose from IMC-TV, may I—"

"队长,你能不能告诉诉我们任何有关外星人—"

"Any words for the people back home, Commander Liao—"

"Captain Liao, what can you tell me about Commander Sheng—"

"A word for the BBC, Captain—is it true the _Beijing_ was nearly destroyed?"

"Captain, is it true you are keeping an alien warrior as a prisoner in your bri—"

She held up her hands to silence the din. Staring down the business ends of dozens of microphones, recorders, lights, and video cameras thrust in her face, Liao squinted to see.

She cursed Sheng's squealing hide. The press were here because of _him_.

"One at a time, one at a time... okay. First of all, I _can_ say that it's very heartening to see that the _Tehran_ was able to meet us in the asteroid belt, and—"

The voices all sprang up again, shouting over each other to be heard. Liao stepped back, briefly overwhelmed, until a booming voice cut through the din.

"Attention, everyone! Your attention please. Thank you. Now, a press conference will be held at 0930 hours, Zulu time, in the main conference room on deck ten. Absolutely _no_ questions will be answered until then. Captain Liao and her crew are very tired, and they need rest. Answers will come, but unfortunately they will come _later_."

Liao peered past the bright lights of reporters' video cameras and spotted a familiar face. James! Smiling widely, the man took Liao's hand in his and—quite roughly—shouldered his way through the wolf pack of hungry reporters, leading her further into the belly of the _Tehran_. Despite James clearing the way, the reporters followed, proving utterly undeterrable, like predators stalking a wounded beast, until James lead her directly to his quarters and locked the door, closing the decompression seal with a hiss.

She gathered herself and took a breath. "Thanks, James."

They stood there in silence, arm in arm, until he finally broke the tension.

"Quite the adventure you've had, or so I've heard."

She laughed, somewhat reluctantly disentangling herself from him, and grinned ruefully. She took off her hat and carefully hung it on his hat rack.

"Yes, quite. Why did you let _them_ on board?"

He shrugged, unbuttoning his jacket and throwing it over a chair. "I didn't have a choice. TFR Command said that the Battle of Jupiter—that's what they call it these days, you know—was a huge publicity and recruitment victory, and they want to milk it for all it's worth. Unfortunately, that means you'll have to face them sooner rather than later but..."—he grinned— "not today."

"Smashing. Looking forward to that. On a related note, got any of that quality scotch left?"

"For you, old friend, of course I do... even if I have to fly back to Earth to get it myself."

"If you do that, your arms will get pretty sore," she observed, winking.

He laughed. "Perhaps, although I'm remarkably fit, so I doubt it'll be much of a problem for me. Anyway, have a seat. I'll get you whatever we have left."

Sinking into his wide couch with a relieved sigh, Liao felt the stress of her encounter with the reporters slowly melt away. Grégoire certainly had an excellent sense of both style and function; the cushions were relaxing and comfortable, and as soon as she eased herself into them, she realized how tired she was. Based on his sympathetic grin as he returned with the promised glasses of scotch, her exhaustion was readily painted on her face.

"You look as though you could use two of these," he observed, handing her the glass. His eyebrows rose in surprise as she immediately upended the small glass, its golden liquid disappearing down her throat in seconds.

"More like two dozen." A series of rough coughs followed her words, the consequence of downing so much hard liquor in so short a time.

Grégoire sat opposite her, his dark hands on his knees.

"I heard you had Sheng relieved of his position."

"I did, yes."

His voice was sympathetic. "That couldn't have been easy."

Her voice held a certain gravity that gave weight to her statement. "It was not, no. Sheng helped me a lot when I first took command... helped me settle into my role as captain far better than I would have without him. I trusted him despite not knowing him all that well, and all the time he was envious of my position. It's... a little shocking, and I think that's why I didn't take what happened too well."

"How _did_ you take it?"

"Heh, I punched him in the face. Pretty good, too, lots of blood."

He refilled her drink, and their glasses met with a light _clink_. "That's the way," he offered encouragingly. "I've always said that if you're going to hit someone, you might as well make it good. No sense half-arsing it; give it to him right in the nose!"

She laughed. "That's exactly what I did!"

"Excellent." He paused, regarding her. "So, after he's learned his lesson, got his face fixed up, and spent some time in the brig, will you allow him to return to duty?"

Liao's levity slowly evaporated. She tilted her glass, shaking her head. "No. He blew his chance. There are plenty of other officers champing at the bit to serve on my ship. I'll give the position to someone who will do it justice."

Grégoire frowned, nodding. "That's your prerogative, but I've got to ask... Sheng's record is—well was, before this—very good. He was a career officer, and most everyone who's served with him has had good things to say." James tipped his glass, sipping absently. "So what's going to happen to him now?"

"I don't know. I guess he'll be reassigned to a surface vessel. In the meantime, I wanted to drag him out of the brig and put him to use, so I had him assigned to prisoner escort; he'll be walking with Saara as they move her around the ship."

"He won't like that. He's prideful and ambitious. But anyway, as I said, it's your choice. Still, it's a pity about what happened. A lot of people aren't happy about it from what I hear. He has influential family."

"I know"—Liao poured another glass and took a hearty swig—"but I had to do it. I don't have any regrets on that front. About plenty of other stuff, but not about that."

Grégoire gave her a sideways glance. "Seems as though you're drinking a lot for someone who's convinced she made the right choice."

She glared at him, and he held up his hands defensively. "I know, I know. I've hit the sauce more than a few times myself after a hard day, but you're going at it like a woman on a mission... especially since half the fleet considers you a war hero, someone who stood up to the aliens and won."

"What about the other half?"

Liao stared across at him and swirled the drink, already feeling light-headed. She felt her face flush red—not from embarrassment but from the first glass of booze entering her system. She wondered if, subconsciously, she really was having second thoughts about Sheng.

He leaned forward slightly. "Let's not talk about the other half. It suffices to say... there's a certain element of the task force who feels you overstretched yourself in the engagement, that you should have waited. That it was an unacceptable risk and that you endangered yourself, your ship, and your crew unnecessarily. That you gambled everything and, yes, it paid off, but we didn't get anything particularly valuable, and we could have lost everything."

Liao gave a snort. "That's it?"

"Well, of course, there's the fact you keep the alien around like a pet instead of giving it a bullet in the brain then airlocking the body."

There was a heavy silence at this point as Grégoire waited patiently for her to ask the question that he knew she was going to ask. Finally, it came.

"What do _you_ think?"

He considered, bringing his hand to his chin.

"You could say I'm sitting on the fence. I support your command, Melissa. You're smart, tactically orientated, and very pretty, and you take risks. But... I also think that Sheng did have a point in some way. It was a risky move back there, engaging the scout ship, and there wouldn't have been any harm done if you had let it go. Yes, it might have reported back, but that would have taken some time, and now any chance of diplomacy with them is probably gone. Plus, well, they're bound to come looking for their lost ship eventually."

Seeing her disapproval, he smiled at her. "Still, I believe that when it comes to the command of men in combat, fortune favours the bold."

Pretty? Grégoire thought she was _pretty?_ Despite everything he had said about her and her command, those were the words that stuck in the forefront of her mind.

Despite herself, she felt a warm flush, this time not from the extremely high-proof scotch. Liao was highly amused by the idea that she was into her thirties now and, as the man himself had said, a war hero, but a few kind words from Grégoire could get her blushing like a schoolgirl. She let a smile play over her lips, nodding her head a little as though she had heard everything else he had said.

"Fortune favours the bold. They _do_ say that."

She mused to herself, playing that little saying over and over in her mind... did James _really_ think that? She took a breath, grinning. "So you really think I'm pretty?"

Although she feared he would react poorly, he didn't seem flustered but just leaned forward on his chair. "Well, I think you'd have to be blind to miss it," he admitted, giving a wide, friendly smile, "and I think we had established that your prettiness was why you were sent to Sydney in the first place... I mean, right before the attacks." He paused. "You don't mind me thinking so?"

Melissa grinned. "As long as you grant me the same courtesy, I guess I don't mind at all."

"You can think of yourself as pretty if you like."

She smirked, playfully reaching over and swatting his knee. "Oh, you _know_ what I meant!"

James laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, well, in that case I think we can arrange for a mutual understanding of some sort. You permit me to think that you're pretty, and I permit you the same about me. It all works out. Ah, the art of compromise!"

She made a somewhat unsteady toast with her half-filled glass. "It all works out." As she did, a drunken, giggly laugh fell from her lips, and he couldn't help but join in.

"You really are a lightweight, aren't you?"

"You have no idea! I haven't had this much in... in a while!"

The laughter continued for some time, followed by idle chatter about supplies and more glasses of scotch. When the chatter and the bottle's contents drained away to nothing, Melissa sipped coyly at the last of her glass, grinning across James's heavy wooden table at the man on the other side. She folded her legs, wiggling her toes, her boots long since discarded and tossed in an untidy pile near the door.

"So... you know the crew thinks we're sleeping together, right?"

He stared. "They say that on the _Beijing_ too?" The man seemed genuinely surprised, shaking his head. "The crew gets up to all kinds of gossip on the _Tehran_... much of the same drivel. I suppose you should be used to it by now, though."

"Sheng assumed we were, and nothing I could do could convince him otherwise. He seemed fixated on the idea—not that it's any of his business who I take to bed, of course. That damn arsehole can say what he likes... doesn't matter to me one bit."

An impish grin formed on his face. "To me, that sounds like a good case for double jeopardy."

Melissa laughed right in the middle of sipping from the half-depleted glass, which caused a little of the booze to splash, barely noticed, on the front of her uniform. "Oh?" she asked, smirking and wiping her front with the back of her hand. "What's that, mmm? I'm being accused of—and essentially convicted _in absentia_ by the fleet's gossip mill—of having sexual relations with you, so... I might as well partake of your, uh, _spoils_... on the grounds I'm going to be punished for doing so anyway?"

He laughed. "You said it better than I could. You should just get on with it. I'll have to endure somehow. I'll just... lie back and think of Brussels, I suppose."

She snorted playfully. "You _are_ assuming I would just permit you to undress and fuck me, you know." She inclined her glass towards him, settling back in the couch. " _Quite_ the stretch!"

James brought his glass to his lips, grinning like a jackal. "Given how endowed I am, I'm guessing it very well will be."

Laughing at his audacity, Liao threw a cushion at him, hitting him square in the face despite her drunkenness. "' _Will be_ '? Hey, don't you be talking like it's already decided—"

"Mmm? It's not? Why ever not, my dear?"

Melissa just snorted and laughed, shaking her head. "You must be kidding me! As tall, dark, and handsome as you are, old friend, I've never slept with another officer before... let alone my, albeit indirect, superior. That's career suicide for a woman in the People's Navy... or hell, any navy."

"Really? Fascinating. Didn't you say you went to a co-ed boot camp?"

"Uh... well, I mean—"

He waggled a finger towards her. "And, just so you know, so did I, so I know what goes on there. Lots and lots and lots of humping in the ammo storage lockers when the commandant's not looking. We used to call it 'Interoffice Networking,' or 'Interpersonal Relationship Management.' It's very healthy, a great way to, uh... bond, and it's an excellent way to blow off some stress."

Melissa snorted with laughter. "Hey, okay, okay... yeah. Yeah, there's usually a lot of playing around, a lot of 'networking,' and I did my fair share, but _never_ with the other officers, let alone—"

"Never?" asked James, a teasing, playful twinkle in his eye. " _Never_ never?"

" _Never_ never, ever!" A slight pause then, "We-e-e-ell, except that one time..."

He clapped his hands, grinning like a kid. "See! See! I told you!"

"But that doesn't count." Liao drunkenly waved her glass around. "It was an exchange program, and they had this... this _sculpted Adonis_ from Spain come over, and I tell you what, he was _gorgeous_. He had a chest that looked like it was carved from marble, like one of those superheroes Rowe reads about in her stupid comic books. God, he really knew how to 刺痛我的阴道 if you catch my drift... mmm, mmm. _Yummy_."

James appeared to be sitting beside her now, something she hadn't noticed. "Well"—he slipped his arm around her shoulder with an exaggerated yawn—"you know I just so happen to speak Spanish, right? The international language of sexy, sexy space lust?"

"Ha! Yeah, _sure_ you do! Spanish my arse." Liao made no attempt to remove the arm but did give it an amused look out of the corner of her eye.

" _¡Bonita_ mujer asiática y pequeña! ¡Quiero tener sexo contigo!"

Melissa blinked, followed by more snorting laughter. She rested her head against her friend's chest. "Well, _fuck me_ , you _do_ speak Spanish!"

"Ha. Well, not really. Just that sentence and another sentence explaining that I don't really speak Spanish after all if they press me about it." He winked. "And, well, don't mind if I do!"

It was the strangest thing, but at that point Melissa felt that the madness of the weeks since the Battle of Jupiter, if that was really what the press were calling it now, had gotten to be too much, as though all the stress and adrenaline and sleeplessness had drained her resolve completely. Before she truly knew what she was doing, her hands were on him, tearing clumsily at the buttons of his uniform. Laughing the whole while, a sincere, genuine laugh that came like a wave of manic excitement, she pushed James onto his back and wiggled out of her top. Her hands found his chest, sliding him free of his uniform.

She did have _such_ a soft spot for dark-skinned men.

_Outside James Grégoire's Quarters_

_TFR_ Tehran

_The next morning_

Commander Kamal Iraj cleared his throat to get the reporters' attention. "Unfortunately, I have to ask that you step away now. I know you are waiting for Captain Liao to exit so you can interview her, but regrettably, what we have to speak about is classified."

The reporters silently crowding around the door to Captain Grégoire's quarters, like scavengers searching for tasty meat, were finally ushered away. Now Iraj stood alone before the grey steel door, straightening his uniform for the last time. He was satisfied now that everything was in order and it was time to finally meet his new CO.

Her whereabouts were no secret. The reporters, along with many crew, had seen the two of them retire to Grégoire's quarters that night, and nobody had seen them leave. Their stakeout had made sure of that. Iraj had no opinion about her fairly obvious liaison; in fact, he welcomed it. Liao's apparent "encounter" with another ship captain reduced the risk that she would be fraternizing with anyone on her own crew, which might impair her judgement. It was best that she and her playmate have the vast gulf of space between them so that their heads were clear.

Iraj opposed relationships between crew members on the same ship for this exact reason. He felt that, no matter how careful one was, it wasn't possible to separate your duty from your loved ones. Even if those loved ones were merely bunk-buddies, they were obviously something more than friends. It wasn't a reflection on the character of the person; it was merely human nature.

Some people who thought this way opposed the participation of females in the military at all, believing them to be the cause of all the mischief—or that removing them would at least remove the opportunity, homosexuality aside. However, the reality was that it had nothing to do with that at all. It was merely common sense, or so he felt.

Iraj was only interested in men anyway, but in all his years of service, he had never taken a partner, so he liked to hold up his behaviour as an example of how to do it right.

Pushing all of these thoughts out of his mind, Iraj rapped on the metal hatchway that led to Grégoire's quarters.

" _Shit!"_ said a hushed, female voice from inside.

Then a louder one, male and deep.

"This is Captain Grégoire's quarters, and I asked not to be disturbed. If this is another one of the reporters, I told you, I'll be granting an interview in the morning."

"It's Commander Iraj, sir, of the navy of the Islamic Republic of Iran, here to report to Commander Liao. I'm here to replace Commander Sheng as her first officer, and I would like to have the chance to speak with her informally before we serve together."

A pause, a little too long to be believable. "She's not here. Have you tried checking the _Beijing_ or calling over the radio? Why would she be? This isn't her ship!" More hushed conversation, then, "She's not here."

"No, I haven't checked the _Beijing_ , sir, because I'm afraid that she's in your quarters." He paused a moment, taking in a breath. "The reporters saw you going in. Apologies."

There was a quiet, feminine sigh from inside and then the sound of feet moving on the metal deck. After a moment's pause, a sheepish Melissa Liao, her short hair mussed from the night's activities and a towel clumsily wrapped around her body, peeked out from the crack in the door. She regarded the man dejectedly.

"The reporters saw me go in? Great, just... great."

"Sorry, Commander. I know these are not ideal circumstances for us to meet, but..."

She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "No, it's fine. You couldn't have anticipated..."

Iraj peered closer. "Are... are you okay, Commander? You look very pale."

"No, I'm fine. Just hung over. A little too much excitement last night, I fear, and a little too much scotch."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence. Iraj glanced over his shoulder then back to his commanding officer. "Don't worry, Commander. I'm not going to say anything, although I fear _they_ know everything already."

"Your discretion in this matter would be appreciated, although you're probably right."

Iraj pondered this. "Time will tell"—the beginnings of a frown formed on his lips— "and I hope that the press respects your right to privacy. A faint hope, but... may I come in? I have something to discuss with you that can't wait."

Liao sighed and then beckoned him inside. She carefully kept the towel wrapped around herself, sitting on the couch. Grégoire pulled on a pair of boxers, and Liao noticed—with curiosity and amusement in equal measure—that Iraj's eyes were drawn to the brief flash of the naked man's dark backside as he did so. Hers were not long behind.

She mused over the situation for a moment, grinning inwardly. Mister Iraj wouldn't be the first gay sailor the navy'd ever seen. Rum, sodomy, and the lash, as they used to say.

Liao returned her attention to her new first officer. "How can I help you, Mister Iraj?"

The Iranian turned back to Melissa, folding his hands in his lap. "I'm concerned about the security of the Toralii we've captured. There's a lot of hostility on board both ships due to its presence. It's understandable, really, but—"

"Her _name_ is Saara."

"I, uh... apologize, Captain. Of course... her name is Saara."

Liao folded her arms despite the towel draped around her midsection. "Saara's been cooperating with us so far, and what she's told us has been a significant source of intelligence for the task force. Her safety is a high priority to me and to the crew of my ship. I expect you to understand that."

"I know, Captain. I'm merely... worried about her safety. Your orders to transfer her to the _Tehran_ were surprising to me since you are keeping Lieutenant Yu on the _Beijing_. All this time spent learning their language will be for nothing if—"

"What? Wait, transferred?" Liao sat up straight now, glancing to Grégoire in confusion. "James? Did you order Saara be moved to the _Tehran_?"

His look of confusion and alarm said it all.

Iraj shook his head. "No, Captain, I don't think you understand—the orders had _your_ signature on them. The marines were given them by Sheng himself..."

Grégoire gave Iraj a confused look. "You're sure? It had Melissa's signature on the transfer forms?"

"Absolutely, Captain. I saw it myself."

_"Shit!"_ Liao stared at Iraj as realization dawned. "Sheng... it's Sheng, and he's bringing Saara to the _Tehran_... but why? Did he possibly think I wouldn't _notice_ her being transferred _?_ "

Throwing aside the towel, Liao began picking up her clothes. Both Grégoire and Iraj raised their left eyebrows at her sudden nakedness—something she found, for some reason, vaguely amusing—but said nothing.

She mused aloud as she pulled on her uniform.

"He's bringing her to the _Tehran_... but that doesn't make sense! Whatever he's planning to do to her, he could just as easily do on the _Beijing_. What's over here that he could want? And why would he take Saara?"

Nobody knew. Liao and Grégoire dressed and stepped outside Grégoire's quarters with Iraj. Just as the door was about to close, Grégoire stuck his boot in. Disappearing inside, he returned with the sidearm from his locker. He loaded it with a full magazine, pulled back the slide with a dull _clink_ , eased it forward, and gently lowered the hammer with his thumb.

"Hope you're not planning on using that," Iraj observed with some degree of concern.

James walked down the corridor, motioning for them to follow. "So do I."

_Corridor Six, near Operations_

_TFR_ Tehran

_Minutes later_

"I'm sorry, I can't let you do that, Commander Liao."

The marines standing before her kept their rifles trained on the three of them. Grégoire pushed his way to the front, the scowl on his face harder than the deck plating he walked on.

" _Stand down_ , Warrant Officer Cheung. I am the captain of this vessel and you will—"

"I'm afraid I can't obey that order, Captain Grégoire, as you're not the commanding officer of this vessel any longer. You've been legally relieved of command by Commander Sheng and ordered to report to the brig."

Grégoire's surprise was obvious. He glanced over his shoulder to Liao and then back to Yanmei Cheung. "Have I, now? On what grounds?"

The marine warrant officer tightened her grip on her rifle, keeping it fixed on Grégoire's centre of mass. She was apprehensive and nervous; Liao, Iraj, and Grégoire could all see that she was merely following orders she did not necessarily agree with. "Your support of the actions of Commander Liao, who has also been similarly relieved, along with Commander Iraj."

Liao felt as though she could break the bulkheads around her in half if given the chance. Her anger, though, was buried beneath the cold steel exterior of a naval captain. Instead of showing the boiling rage she felt bubbling beneath the surface, she instead projected the cool visage of a woman who was obviously displeased but was in full control of her substantial anger.

"And what regulation did Commander Liao disobey, Warrant Officer, serious enough to justify relieving not only _her_ of command but _myself_ _and_ her XO as well? Go on. Enlighten me."

"Commander Liao has been sheltering one of the demons, Captain, a fact well known to half the fleet at this point. I've seen it myself."

James held his ground, staring down the marine with a gaze of steel. "My understanding, Warrant Officer Cheung, is that the People's Navy, in conjunction with the Task Force Resolution, are empowered to take and keep prisoners, and that as part of that empowerment, are obligated to feed, clothe and care for them." His tone became caustic. "Or perhaps the huge data mine of intelligence garnered from this operation, at basically _no_ cost, is of no value to Commander Sheng?"

"Commander Sheng believes that keeping the creature on board is dangerous. He believes that they attacked Earth without provocation and that they should be offered neither latitude nor quarter. He also believes that Commander Liao is reckless with her command and that he relieved her according to protocol, so—"

"What do _you_ believe?"

Cheung did not answer, but the barrel of her rifle twitched slightly. Speaking firmly and evenly, Grégoire held out his hand. "Your rifle, please."

"You've been relieved of duty. I... I can't."

James tilted his head forward, his hand remaining outstretched. He was no more and no less insistent. "The orders you have received _are in error_. They are given by a man who has _no_ authority to give them, and his actions are not approved by the Task Force Resolution council. So accordingly, you and I are not to be held to them. His actions constitute not the legal relief of duty but _mutiny_. You can either stand with him and be punished accordingly when this mess is sorted out, or you can continue to do your duty with honour and come take that bastard back to his cell, where he belongs."

Considering for a moment, Cheung looked conflicted. She glanced behind her at the other marines and then, seeming to come to a conclusion, slowly lowered her rifle. Liao took it from her, nodding her thanks and shouldering the weapon. With the marines in tow, the three of them headed towards the _Tehran's o_ perations room.

_Operations_

_TFR_ Tehran

The three officers, along with the marines, stormed into the operations room to find it abuzz with activity. Sheng paced about the deck as though he owned the place, and he looked up when they stormed in, immediately signalling a nearby marine.

"Master-at-arms, remove these—"

"Belay that command." James strode into operations, his pistol in hand and resting comfortably by his side. "Master-at-arms, on my authority, I order you to relieve Commander Sheng of duty and confiscate his sidearm."

The master-at-arms, a youthful-looking NCO with a confused look on his face, looked awkwardly between the two parties.

Sheng fully turned to face the intruders now, frowning darkly. "No, belay _that_ command. These three traitors are supposed to be in their cells." He glanced to Cheung, frowning darkly. "But it seems they'll soon have company. Captain Grégoire and his co-conspirators have been properly relieved for their actions, and they should _not_ be here."

Liao stepped forward, her rifle pointed straight at Sheng's heart. "Indeed. And what actions are these, mmm? Mining a prisoner for intelligence? Pray tell me, _Sheng_ , you brave and foolish little dove, how is that worthy of mutiny?"

"Ha, she acts so _innocent_. As you wish, Commander, I will shed some illumination on this matter." Sheng gestured with an arm. "Sergeant, bring out the prisoner."

Liao's heart almost broke at what she saw, and she could hear Grégoire take in a sharp breath. The marines loyal to Sheng dragged out Saara's limp form as though they were dragging a sack of potatoes. Her dark-purple blood streaked her fur, and her bloodstained face was adorned with rough, swollen bruises.

She had been cut and burned, with sections of her fur on her back missing as though they had thrashed her with a cane. It seemed as though the marines hadn't known what to really do to hurt the Toralii, so they had started from the very basics and worked their way up with various degrees of success.

The marines unceremoniously dropped her on the deck. Saara didn't move. Liao couldn't even tell whether she was breathing.

"You see," Sheng began, "I agree with your ideas, but I disapprove of your methods. Yes, knowledge was gained, but what was it... _intelligence_? More like _stories_. What use are stories to us? What use is folklore? _Language exchange?_ We needed weapons, technology, information... the location of their home world! That is valuable information, not"—he snorted—"not stories about 'peace in the village,' spouted by hypocritical warmongers."

"The Geneva Convention, one of the Task Force's standing orders, dictates that all people—"

"The Toralii are _things_ , Commander, not people. They are _monsters_. Demons. Hunks of meat to be held up and beaten until their secrets spill out then discarded out a convenient airlock."

The man jabbed a finger down at the broken Toralii body. "This demon spilled her secrets long ago, Commander, but still you kept her around. Still you let her consume our air, our water, our food." His voice turned vicious, and he leaned forward slightly. "You befriended a beast, Commander, and this has turned out to be a spectacularly _bad_ idea. You've lost objectivity. The creature has given us all we can take. It is now refuse, debris to be discarded with the morning garbage."

Liao tightened her grip on the rifle. "What did she tell you?"

Sheng's grin widened. "The location of a Toralii resupply depot. And I fully intend to take this ship and _destroy_ it. It was supposed to be the _Beijing_ that would have this honour, but once I learned the good Captain Grégoire was here fucking his whore, I knew I'd have to change my plans."

Liao paused a moment, considering the man's words. From a strictly military point of view, he had a point; Saara had told them everything they needed to know, except the location of her home world and the reason behind the attack, and Sheng had extracted a very valuable piece of information from her, one not even Liao had been given.

Humanity had a history of mistreating "non-human" prisoners when propaganda had shown their enemies to be so wicked and threatening that the offending soldiers no longer considered their enemies to be people. Now, it seemed, their species was carrying this habit to the stars, and while Saara was clearly non-human, in Liao's mind, she was a _person_ and did not deserve to be brutalized.

It was, therefore, with some guilt that she recalled punching Sheng in the face. Although her actions had been done out of anger and she had later controlled herself, it was difficult to claim to be a moral authority on the issue when there was an easy case to be made that she was a hypocrite.

"Call them demons, do you?" asked Liao raising an eyebrow. "If they truly are, then..."

Liao gently squeezed the trigger on her rifle. In the pure oxygen environment of the operations room, a large tongue of flame leapt from the end of the barrel, and with a _bang-whiz,_ the round blew out Sheng's heart, the round blooming in a sanguine flower on his chest. The man collapsed in a bloody heap.

"Give them my regards when you see them in hell."

She lowered the weapon, glancing around at the shocked faces all around her. "Apologies, Captain, for making a mess of your operations room."

Grégoire, at first surprised, casually shrugged. "Can't say I wasn't thinking of it myself."

Act III

Chapter VII

****

Horses and Stories

_*****_

_Medical bay_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Sol System Asteroid Belt_

_Two days later_

"WILL SHE LIVE?"

AN ECHO of her question to Doctor Saeed, made months ago, but now with one key word different: "she." Her tone, too, was touched with something different. Rather than concern for her military objectives, Liao was concerned for Saara.

Was that treason? Was she a traitor to her own species by caring for their prisoner, or as she had come to know her, her friend? Did Sheng really have a point?

Saara lay on her bed nearby, eyes closed, face bandaged. Doctor Saeed stood nearby. He warmly smiled at Liao. "The Toralii heal faster than humans do, Captain. She has received a number of serious injuries. If she were a human, I am certain she would be dead, but fortunately, that is not her fate this day. Sheng's marines certainly did a number on her, though." He regarded her curiously. "I'm assuming you had them punished."

Liao folded her hands in front, blowing out a low sigh. "They pulled a Nuremberg defence. Said they were just following Sheng's orders, like Cheung. Except Cheung knew what she was doing and came around in the end."

Saeed frowned. "I doubt that people 'just following orders' would beat someone so savagely. If you hadn't shown up when you did, well, I doubt even my considerable skill would have been able to save her."

"In my heart I know that, and they know I know. They're on very thin ice now. One slip, and I'll have James throw them off the ship." Liao regarded the unconscious Toralii woman. "When will she be able to talk again?"

Saeed gestured to a seat, sitting down beside Liao. "Her jaw was shattered, Captain. Six breaks, a very serious injury. We've surgically wired it shut for now, and Lieutenant Yu tells us that the situation was explained to Saara; she wrote down all the help and information we could ask for"—a nod to the many security cameras, fitted with obvious microphones— "which has all been recorded, of course."

Liao nodded. "Yes, Yu is skilled. His assistance has been invaluable to our translation efforts. I'm glad he was able to help you."

Saeed rested his hand on Liao's shoulder. "Saara will be unconscious for another hour or two. I'm happy to contact you, however, when she's ready to talk. For now, though, there's nothing more you or I can do."

Melissa nodded again, folding her hands in her lap. "Thank you, Doctor. I... I am concerned about her health. Between her surviving a nuke strike and then enduring Sheng's almost equally destructive behaviour, I wonder if there are limits to what even the Toralii can take."

"She's strong," Saeed offered, squeezing her shoulder slightly. "Her biology is amazing. I don't think there's any risk from what she's been through so far. Just"—his face split in a playful grin—"make sure she takes care of herself and eats her vegetables, okay?"

Liao laughed. "I'm not her mother, despite appearances to the contrary"—she smiled—"but okay, sure. I'll make sure she eats right. To be honest, though, we don't really know her diet. She sure seems to love eating our food, but we don't know how good it is for her. She might well be doing the equivalent of scoffing down on cheeseburgers and chips."

"Probably, but she _seems_ healthy, at any rate... at least when she's not being blown up by nukes or beaten by marines. But, again, who knows what healthy for her species looks like."

Liao stood. Moving over to Saara's bed, she gently cupped the Toralii's much larger hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. "I'll ask her when she wakes up."

Saeed quietly contemplated the two of them. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"You like her, don't you?"

Liao let a little smile play across her lips. "I suppose I do," she admitted, "and I'm not sure why. I think it's just that... well, you know. I've never really had many female friends—any, really—and this is... well, honestly, the first time I've ever connected with anyone of my own gender." She laughed. "I wonder if it's because she _isn't_ human."

"It's understandable. People bond with the strangest things. Some people, for example, get along better with animals than with humans; my cousin is autistic, and she finds that animals are, by far, easier to get along with. She doesn't understand people at all, but when it comes to calming down a panicked mare, she's like a little horse whisperer or something. I'm not saying you're like her, but that's just the way it is. Such behaviours have been observed in neuro-typical people as well."

Liao had always liked the idea of horses and other strong, large animals, but there were few opportunities to see them where she grew up. Still... Saeed's observation of her was not far off the mark, strange though it was to admit. She stood now, offering the man her hand.

"Alas, Doctor, duty calls. I'll be back later to check on her, okay? Let me know if she wakes up."

Taking her firm handshake, Saeed nodded. "I promise you'll be the _first_ to know."

_Mess Hall_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Sol System Asteroid Belt_

_Two days later_

In the great battle between exhaustion and hunger, eventually hunger won out. Although she had a yeoman to serve her meals in her quarters, Liao preferred to eat with her crew; accordingly, when hunger eventually became too strong to ignore, she made her way to the mess hall, still flicking through a small pile of reports, triaging those that were not critical and skimming those that were.

Forgetting what she had ordered, Liao pulled up a chair at the long table and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, she was staring into two familiar faces, Grégoire and Rowe.

"Evening, Captain!" was Rowe's enthusiastic greeting, which drew a chuckle from Grégoire. "Mind if we sit with you?"

Liao gave a tired smile. "I don't see why not."

"I was just telling Summer about how my family came to Belgium from Rwanda when I was just a small child." He indicated her meal. "I didn't know you were a vegetarian."

Rowe laughed and shook her head, picking up a fork and tucking in to her chicken strips.

Liao looked down at her plate—salad with ranch dressing and a whole heap of potatoes.

"Neither did I," she confessed. "I thought I ordered..." Her voice trailed off. "Honestly, I don't remember."

Rowe just laughed again, but Grégoire frowned. "When did you last have some rack time?"

"Uh..."

"If you can't remember, it's been too long."

Liao shrugged her shoulders, absently popping one of the almost-fresh tomatoes into her mouth. "I have a lot to do. What if the Toralii find us in the asteroid belt?"

"I have enough time to eat on another ship," Grégoire observed, grinning just a little and pointing his fork at her. "You should at least find time to _sleep_."

"Besides," added Rowe, her mouth full of chicken, "the likelihood of anyone finding us here is pretty damn good if they're looking. An asteroid belt is basically empty space. I mean, there's only about one tenth the mass of our moon spread out over an orbit between Mars and Jupiter, and if you remove the four largest bodies in the belt, you reduce the mass by half! That's why we're swinging out near Vesta, hoping to use its mass to—"

Liao grated her teeth. "I _know_ , Summer. I command a spaceship, remember? I know how space works."

"I'm just saying, we're not really hiding very well at—"

" _I know._ "

Grégoire and Rowe both were silenced at the sharpness of her tone, and the people near her stared before deliberately looking away. The three ate in silence for a moment, and then James put down his fork.

"Bed time," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "C'mon. I'll walk you there."

_Medical bay_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Sol System Asteroid Belt_

_Later_

The rest did her wonders. Much later in the evening, just as she was working her way through the most relaxing dream, Liao received the call she had been hoping for. Saeed had been as good as his word; the moment Saara was awake, Liao's radio crackled, and the doctor's voice gave her the good news.

She pulled on her uniform as quickly as she could, kissed Grégoire's sleeping forehead on the way out, and rushed to sickbay as fast as dignity would allow. Yu was waiting for her there. Giving the man a curt nod, Liao made her way to Saara's bed, her face brightening when she saw Saara was awake.

["Captain Liao! It brings a smile to my face to see you. I didn't think I would ever lay eyes upon you again."]

Liao's surprise was total. She stared at the Toralii woman, dumbfounded.

"Your jaw... Saeed said it was _shattered_. How can you speak?"

["It was, but this recovery time is normal for my kind. Apparently, compared to humans, the Toralii heal fast, Captain Liao."]

Liao cupped the Toralii's hand in hers, squeezing fondly. "Some good news at least. It's good to see you well, Saara. How are you feeling?"

["Better than I did before, Captain."] Saara gave a low chuckle. ["Apparently, not all of your species treat their captives so well."]

"Apparently not, no." Liao tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I'm... very sorry about what he did to you, what _Sheng_ did to you. I didn't know what he was planning, and I... If I had known..."

["I know."] Saara paused as she considered her next words. ["What happened to the man?"]

"I shot him. Ostensibly for mutiny, but... I have to say, what he did to you was _inexcusable._ Humanity doesn't treat its prisoners this way. No civilized people should. Down that road lies inhumanity and madness."

["Is that all I am? Just a prisoner to you?"] Saara's yellow eyes belied a sincere sadness at Liao's statement, her tail drooping slightly.

"Of course not." Liao gave the Toralii woman's hand another squeeze. "I was speaking about how they saw you, not how I did. You should know by now. While technically you're still being held here at our pleasure, well..." Liao shrugged. "We've come to understand a great deal about you and your people. No matter what anyone else says, you are—and shall forever be considered—my friend."

Saara's smile lifted Liao's heart. ["I am glad to hear it. I feel the same way. And although I have served the Toralii enforcement fleet for some time, and in my duties encountered several other species, none have taken me quite as humanity has. You are a strange and interesting people, Captain Liao, and if it were possible, I would enjoy learning more about you."]

Liao considered this, her mind ticking over. "I don't know if that will be possible. I may consider you a friend, and on this vessel my word is law, but the command structure of my people will almost certainly see it differently. They will see you as a threat, I fear, and I'm not sure what I can do to change that.

"The species of man is a collective of good people. I believe that right down to my bones. But our history is chequered and marred by countless atrocities. Accordingly, we have evolved a kind of... suspicion of the outsider. That which is not like us is something to be distrusted, hated, and feared all in equal measure."

["You sound just like us, my friend, and your words could just as easily come from the mouth of any Toralii. My people do not instinctively trust outsiders. Many species do not. It is a common trait. It probably evolved under circumstances similar to those you describe for humanity. As I explained earlier, our own species is not without its wars, its atrocities, its lies, and its betrayals... usually conducted by those who were not part of the 'group.'"]

Liao took a breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She continued to hold Saara's hand. Lieutenant Yu mutely watched, observing the situation with curiosity. Eventually, Liao spoke again.

"The Toralii are not without their hypocrisies either. You preached to me about peace earlier, but your kind attacked humanity without any warning and without care for the civilian deaths your actions would cause. Doesn't that strike you as hypocritical?"

Saara regarded her with sad eyes. ["Yes, and I wish it were not so, but the irony of our situation is not lost on me or... others of my kind."]

Liao rested her hand over Saara's. "Which leads me to my next point. There... was one question I was never able to get you to answer. Why did the Toralii attack Earth?"

Saara spent a moment studying the human, her expression unreadable. To Liao, she seemed to be internally debating some great tribulation.

["You had Voidwarp technology."]

Liao looked to Yu, nodding in encouragement. "Voidwarp... you spoke of this before. You said we could not possess it, but why not?"

Saara hesitated again. ["Before I answer, Captain, I should explain something."]

Liao nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

["The Telvan, my people, they believe that if you save someone's life, that person is indebted to you. Left in Sheng's hands, I would not have survived, so... a life is owed to you. I should give you answers at least."]

Liao did not know what to do or say regarding Saara's pledge, but she did have other questions that needed answering.

"Answers... answers are good. Why don't we start with the supply depot you told Sheng about?"

Saara grinned an alien grin tainted with an emotion Liao could not properly decode. ["The coordinates I gave him were deep space... empty. Had he jumped there, he would have just been wasting his time. The Telvan learned long ago that torture is only useful for confirming information you already know, since its victims will say anything just to end it."]

Liao pursed her lips a moment. "Well, Sheng never was the wisest of men, was he?" Shaking her head, she remembered something that Saara had mentioned earlier. Leaning forward, she raised a curious eyebrow. "Do other species have Voidwarp technology, or is it just the Toralii?"

["Three others that we know of. Our reach is not unlimited, however, and the universe is vast, so there may be others."]

Melissa pondered that. "So at least three possess it now, but I'm guessing that others have tried in the past but were stopped by the Toralii."

["Yes, a great many have tried. Every species we've met who possess it give it a different name, but they all have the same underlying mechanism. And they are all equally dangerous."]

Liao tried her best to repeat the word she had heard Saara say, although the inflections seemed impossible to reproduce. ["Dang-er-ous?"] It was a new word, only recently learned, its translation possibly inaccurate. Yu and Liao looked at each other again, a little concerned. Liao did not like the direction that this discussion was heading. The jump drive on her ship had never even been used, and if what Saara was telling them were true, she'd rather it stayed that way... at least for the moment.

Yu leaned forward. "The jump drive—what you would refer to as Voidwarp technology—is dangerous? How so?"

Saara stared at them with alien eyes that held an entirely human sadness. ["It is the most destructive power in the galaxy that our species has discovered. Regrettably, we discovered it far too late. I wish—our people wish—that we stood where you stood, Captain, that our species had made the sacrifices yours has instead of what has befallen us."]

Liao and Yu exchanged another glance. "I'm afraid I don't follow." Liao's voice was quiet. "As far as our scientists have determined, the jump drive is very difficult to get working, but once it does, it's safe. It either works or it doesn't. Failure just means a failed jump, nothing more."

["We thought so as well, but there is a third outcome."]

Exhaling and shaking her head, the Toralii female looked between the two humans, her bright, yellow eyes displaying a depth of emotion Liao was surprised to see. The more she learned about this so very alien creature, this friend of hers, the more of humanity she saw in her.

["I will do my best to explain, but I am only a pilot. The... mechanism behind a Voidwarp engine's transportation is complex and beyond my understanding, but when it activates, there is a potential for a cataclysmic event to occur. The exact circumstances of what causes this event elude me, but what _is_ clear is that when it occurs, a... 'singularity'... is formed at the origin point."]

Saara paused a moment to let the two humans digest what she had just said and then continued, her words slow and clear so that the two who were learning her language could absorb them.

["This singularity never closes; it only grows endlessly and in time devours all around it. Planets, stars, solar systems... all are eventually consumed by the raging stellar tempest. There are three in existence that we know of... We call them Uraj-tor, Khali-tor and Majev-tor. They grow every year, and we have seen no sign of them ever slowing down.

["Uraj-tor was the first of the void-tempests, and it was created by us nearly six hundred years ago. It was a golden age for our people. Our world's various nations had allied under a single banner, coexisting in peace. War, strife, chaos... these things were gone from our people's lives. It was a time of great scientific achievement and progress.

["Our home world of Evarel was the testing site for the first Voidwarp engine, and what a success it was. From there, we established dozens of colonies in the Hijaai system, our home, and we spread ourselves into space. Soon we were colonizing other solar systems, too, making other homes amongst the cosmos. Colonists, explorers, and settlers went out into the black, and their reports told us that they had found hundreds of bountiful planets capable of sustaining life.

["We believed we were on the cusp of achieving the destiny of our species. Space travel became commonplace; every day hundreds of ships, vast and tiny, left Evarel's warp-points, departing for any one of hundreds of destinations. Trade between the colonists and the homeworlders flourished, all because of the wondrous Voidwarp technology. The words on every child's lips were full of joy and hope.

["How far away those times seem to us now."]

Despite the vast gulf in culture and biology between the two species, the grief on Saara's face was plain to the humans. Her pupils were dilated, her ears lay back against her head, and her voice became high-pitched and strained. The heavy stones of the wall that guarded her emotions from the ravages of the story weakened under the effort of its retelling.

["And then the cataclysm came. A simple merchant ship, the _Makaani_ , __ engaged its Voidwarp engine. When it did, a great, black fire sprang forth from where it left—a spiralling trail of nothing that grew and grew, slowly forming a great rift in the sky. Evarel screamed and thrashed as the singularity pulled her ever closer. But despite the best efforts of our scientists and our military, she and her moons were all swallowed. Six billion Toralii died, including almost all of our leadership, our scientists, our artists, philosophers, and intellectuals.

["Word of the disaster spread slowly. After Evarel was consumed, there was no one left to send word of what had happened, and attempts to return to our home world were thwarted by the lack of a warp-point where one was expected. The singularity put out so much gravimetric distortion that jumping into the system was impossible. So finally, scouts warped into the edges of the Hijaai system and saw the destruction firsthand. It was they who relayed to us the terrible news that our home world had been destroyed.

["The pain this caused to the Toralii was utterly unimaginable. The coalition the colonists had forged with our home world, this union of peace and prosperity, disintegrated without Evarel's influence. In mere weeks, we turned on each other in a series of rapidly escalating wars, as each faction squabbled over the scraps of our civilization's technology, labour, ships, medical supplies, females, food, and water. All became commodities to be bartered from the strong, extorted from the weak, or stolen from the weaker.

["It was not until the dust had settled, at the cost of so many lives, that our species finally reunited under the banner of the strongest of the colonies, known simply as The Toralii Alliance. The Telvan were part of it, as was everyone, and this new coalition did all they could to try to close the ever-hungry maw of Uraj-tor, but he could not be satisfied. Eventually the Alliance gave up, moved the survivors to a safe location, and let the entire system be consumed.

["We tried teaching the first few species we encountered, sharing our knowledge with them, giving them weapons and food and medicines. This met with some success, and we did find some allies, until we encountered another species we called the Kel-Voran. They had not yet developed Voidwarp technology, so we gave it to them."] Saara took a deep breath. ["But the Kel-Voran were not like us. Vicious and warlike, they saw the Voidwarp technology not as a tool for ushering in a period of peace, but instead as a way to impose their will on all species around the galaxy.

["Thus, soon enough, our two species fell into war. We struggled, as we had struggled with so many others, to make them see the danger in the wonders they had discovered, but our messengers were met only with gunfire, and our communications were ignored. They fought us at every turn until another singularity appeared, and Khali-tor opened his insatiable maw and, just like Uraj-tor did to us, swallowed the Kel-Voran home world. It was at this time the Telvan split from the Toralii Alliance.

["From our encounters with the Kel-Voran, we knew we could no longer rely on diplomacy to educate other races about the harms of the Voidwarp. Instead, we are now forced to employ violence, a strategy that has worked for every species we have encountered. And we no longer share our technology with those we find to be friendly.

["The truth is that we are a peaceful people. We have no desire to harm or kill, but every time a sentient species develops the Voidwarp technology, they must be taught not to use it. They must not be permitted to use the Voidwarp engines without knowing the safe limits to which they can be pushed. The learning process is long, and the risks are great. Too great."]

Saara's eyes narrowed as she looked between Liao and Yu, her black fur rising slightly as though reflecting her rising emotional state.

["Although we wish it were not so with every fibre of our beings, the reality of the situation is that no species aside from the Toralii may be permitted to own or operate the Voidwarp devices. This is our law, our uncompromising, unyielding law. It exists for a very good reason. I hope you see that now."]

Liao nodded thoughtfully as she digested everything Saara had told her. It was a lot to take in, but in a way it only confirmed what the humans already knew. The aliens' arrival and bombardment was not a coincidence, and the attacks on Earth were linked to the discovery of the jump drive.

"Unfortunately," Liao began, "humans... are a curious people, but we are not entirely reckless. Had we known of the dangers, we would have been more careful with the technology and taken the time to learn it. We would endeavour to be like you; we would want to understand this mysterious and strange technology. We would want to use it safely."

Saara's eyes seemed to pierce through Liao.

["Would you?"]

"If your case had been convincing, yes. I know we would have—"

["No... no."] Saara gave a tired sigh. ["You see, we have heard such words before, from dozens of species all over the galaxy, and the outcomes have always been the same. Always the arguments are 'taken into consideration' and then discarded once the power of the Voidwarp technology becomes truly apparent. The likelihood of your kind weaponizing or abusing the technology is seen as too great.

["This ship—this great weapon that you have built to fight for your right to use it—is proof that we were correct."]

The idea that the Toralii had encountered so many other species who all had the same reaction to the Voidwarp technology came as a shock to Liao. Although she wanted to ask about that, she felt compelled to at least attempt to refute Saara's claim.

"This ship is a weapon built to fight _you_ ," she argued. "Well, the Toralii—only because the Toralii attacked us—and for no other purpose. The _Beijing_ is designed only to take the fight to those that harmed us... and we didn't even know why they _did_."

Liao rolled her shoulders. "But it's interesting, you know? The attacks upon Earth have proven to be a very uniting event. Our people stand behind the Pillars of the Earth now together in common cause. More or less."

Liao leaned forward, folding her hands into her lap. "If you had given us a chance, I think we might have surprised you. Humanity possesses a great potential for greed, yes, but also for great patience, temperance, compassion, and understanding."

Lieutenant Yu nodded his agreement. "We have a chequered history, yes, but for every act of barbarism there are acts of great charity and... for lack of a better word, _humanity_."

["You say that with such certainty, and I would love to do nothing more than believe it, but we have heard similar talk before from other species. We could not take the risk."]

Liao nodded. "Very well, I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree. One question: what about the other... singularity? You mentioned there were three, and you told us the origins of two of them. What's the story behind..."—she struggled to pronounce it correctly—"Majev-tor?"

Saara just gave what Liao could only assume was the equivalent of a saddened smile.

["Majev-tor is a story for another day, human. Recounting Uraj-tor's opening has drained me for today. I can stand no more tragedy."]

"Very well." Liao paused and then inclined her head. "So... while you did not speak our language before coming here, you mentioned that your people had studied us for some time before the attacks. Are there Toralii that know our language? That understand us?"

["I am... or rather, I was, merely a pilot. But for the Telvan, each new species we encounter is assigned a diplomat. The diplomat, and other high-ranking officers assigned to study humanity, would have a working knowledge of your various languages, yes. In that regard, the Telvan are more considerate than the rest of the Alliance, who generally do not do this. They train only their soldiers with new languages, and they care not for peaceful resolutions. Why do you ask?"]

"I just want to know if... if we send the Toralii a message, can they understand it?"

["You want to open diplomatic ties with my people?"] The Toralii woman screwed up her face in confusion. ["A bold move. One that I doubt will be received very well. You possess voidwarp devices, you attacked one of our survey vessels, and you hold one of their crewmen. This vessel is impressive, Captain, as are his sisters, but even the Telvan possess great fleets and the will to use them. I doubt very much that our elders will listen to anything you have to say. Once they learn you have voidwarp devices, they will return in force. You cannot intercept every survey vessel. They will eventually find out, and then they will come. Heed my words well when I say... they will not send the gentle Telvan. It will be Alliance warships at your proverbial door."]

"I know"—Liao's hand slipped free of Saara's—"and when they do, I and my crew will be there to meet them."

She paused, regarding her Toralii friend.

"Until then, I will need your help."

Chapter VIII

****

Laying the Stones

_*****_

_Conference Room 2_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Orbit of Earth_

_One month later_

THE TRIP BACK TO EARTH was uneventful insofar as Saara continued to learn, Rowe continued to make a pest of herself, and Liao relieved herself from the stress of the day with Grégoire's help whenever she could... which was as often as they both could manage.

Soon, however—too soon for Liao's liking—they were back at work.

Saara, Liao, Iraj, Grégoire, Rowe, and the senior staff for both the _Tehran_ and the _Beijing_ sat in the conference room, the large projector screen illuminated with a generic welcome message. Liao waited until everyone was seated and there was a lull in the conversation and then called for quiet.

"Thank you, everyone. Firstly, as most of you probably know, we have a very special guest aboard the TFR _Beijing_. I'd like to formally introduce the senior staff of both our vessels to Saara, who is one of the Toralii we encountered at the Battle of Jupiter.

"For some of you, this will be the first time that you've seen a Toralii, and I want to make sure that I'm clear about one thing: Saara has proven herself very willing to assist us in our endeavours and, accordingly, she is being granted limited access to the _Beijing_ 's non-classified systems. She will have an armed guard wherever she goes"—Liao nodded to the marines who stood by the heavy metal door of the room—"but this is at her discretion and only for her protection. She's free to dismiss them if she wants, so don't become alarmed if you see her wandering around by herself."

Liao paused as though lending weight to her next statement. She wanted the crews of both ships to understand her position clearly and completely.

"She has my trust, the same trust I extend to all of you. Please bear this in mind."

Liao hoped they got the message. She desperately did not want to shoot any more crew members.

"Also, please remember that while Saara can understand what you say, as long as it's in English as per Task Force Resolution guidelines, she can't physically vocalize any of our languages. As only Lieutenant Yu and I can currently understand her Telvan dialect, her communication with you all—and the rest of the crew—will unfortunately be one-way. We're looking at changing that in the future as we move towards rapidly teaching everyone, fleetwide, enough Toralii to permit basic communication."

There were a few low groans. Many of the crew had struggled to learn English to serve on the ship; the idea that they were going to have to learn a third language was probably not a popular decision. Liao kept herself composed, however, waiting for the murmurs to die down.

"Which I'm sure you're _all_ looking forward to. Now, to business."

Liao shone her laser pointer on the floor-to-ceiling monitor embedded in the wall of the conference room. Displayed upon it, sketched by Rowe, was a computer-generated map of the solar system. At her insistence, the words NOT TO SCALE were displayed in one of the corners as though the fact weren't obvious. She seemed mortified by the idea that someone on the crew might genuinely assume the Sun and the Earth were approximately the same size.

At times Liao wondered if Rowe sometimes forgot that she lived on a spaceship with a crew that had trained for years for a mission in space and therefore might, presumably, know more about the solar system than the so-called "average person," whom she clearly despised.

Liao ran her pointer in small circles around the sun. "We now know that the Toralii have been conducting reconnaissance throughout the Sol system for decades. According to Saara, they generally do this via autonomous, unarmed probes called Forerunners. Much, much smaller than the ship that attacked Earth, a Forerunner is a device about five meters cubed, packed with sensors, which jumps into the outskirts of a system the Toralii wishes to map. They're unarmed."

Lieutenant Jiang raised her hand. "Why the outskirts? Why don't they just jump the Forerunner into the system itself?"

Rowe spoke up, her tone condescending. "Because they can't map the Lagrangian points across the huge gulf between solar systems. The distance between stars is just so _unimaginably vast_ that even with the best radio telescopes or whatever, there's just no way you could accurately predict the location of the points. I mean, heh, when you look at the sky, you're observing the stars using light that could be dozens of years old—they've moved millions of kilometers since then. Even when you're looking directly at them, the stars aren't where you _see_ they are!"

Rowe, her rant complete, flopped back in her chair very disrespectfully. Still, Liao gave her a curt nod.

"Thank you, Summer." Then, coughing politely, Liao addressed the rest of the briefing.

"So, yes. The Forerunners are designed to perform a fly-through of all the planets in the system, including a close-up pass of the central star, calculating the jump points for all gravity wells in the system and collecting a whole host of other data: mineral composition of the planets, their moons, atmospheric information and climate, radiation levels—more than we can get with our best spectrometers. Once it's done, it finds the nearest Lagrangian point and jumps back to report its findings. The process takes about a year.

"If intelligent life is detected, the probe is generally sent right back to the new system to become a permanent observer. Based on Saara's information, we know that there is a Forerunner somewhere in this system. Given that our Earth-based astronomers haven't discovered it yet, it's probably out by Uranus, Neptune, or Pluto... or hiding out in the asteroid belt."

Rowe looked ready to raise her hand, but Liao cut her off.

"But that's unlikely since it can't jump from there. We know it's operational; Saara has confirmed that the Toralii strike fleets were communicating with a Forerunner, so wherever it is, it's talking to the Toralii when they visit the system. Unfortunately, its location was unknown to her, so it falls to us to find it."

Liao pointed her laser at the screen, tracing the bright-green dot between all the planets in the solar system. "Accordingly, our primary objective is to find and capture our system's Forerunner if we're able, destroy it if we are not, or drive it away in the worst case. This is not as simple as it sounds; the Forerunners are programmed to jump to another in-system Lagrangian point if a hostile ship comes within fifty thousand kilometres. For obvious reasons, this makes them pretty hard to get close to. Fortunately, Captain Grégoire and Miss Rowe have come up with a plan. Captain?"

James stood, and Liao handed him her laser pointer, moving to one side to give him room to speak. She folded her hands behind her back, watching silently as James took over the presentation.

The laser pointer's fine, green dot moved from one Lagrangian point to another as James spoke.

"This will be a joint operation between the _Tehran_ , the _Beijing_ and—at long last—the TFR _Sydney_ , who is finally out of dry dock. I have it on _very_ good authority that the youngest member of the fleet is going to show her face at this party, fashionably late, but she's bringing a consolation prize." Grégoire beckoned to the crowd of people. "And it's a prize we all get to share. I'd like to introduce you all to Major Alex Aharoni, from the Israeli Air and Space Arm."

A short but handsome Arabic man stood, grinning widely. The man wore the uniform of an Israeli pilot rather than the TFR's standard uniform, which immediately drew some disapproving looks.

"Please"—the man held up his bronzed hands—"call me Jazz."

Liao cocked an eyebrow, regarding the newcomer, " _Jazz_? Is that your"—she made little finger quotes—"'call sign' or something?"

"Yep. Had it since flight school. Got it because I can play jazz piano, and back in Tel Aviv, there was this smoking hot bar skank who would totally leap straight onto your cock if you played an instrument, so one night I—"

Liao cut him off. "Thank you, Alex... Jazz. Whatever." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whatever. You'll fit in just fine. It's not like we don't already have one immature but talented person aboard." Liao cast a look towards Rowe, who was sitting behind Aharoni and appeared to be actively—and over-eagerly, in Liao's opinion—checking out the pilot's tight backside. When Rowe caught Liao's glance, she put on a "What, me?" look.

Aharoni took a mock bow, much to Rowe's viewing pleasure, and then sat down. He had a proud grin on his face that caused Liao's blood pressure to spike.

Grégoire continued, shaking his head at the pilot's display.

"Anyway, based on technology recovered from the Toralii wreck from the Battle of Jupiter, the Task Force's top scientists—along with some brought in from the EU—have supplied us with our own strike craft based on modified prototypes the Iranians were building. They call it the SSF-01 _Wasp_ , and they're supplying the fleet of twenty-four during our next resupply run. That's eight for each ship."

Aharoni chimed in. "The eight strike craft assigned to the _Beijing_ are piloted by the best sticks in the Israeli Air Force. Of course, that's only for the _Beijing_ and the _Sydney—_ for obvious reasons, the Islamic Republic of Iran felt that stationing Israeli pilots aboard the ship named after their capitol would be... _unwise_ , so they're providing their own—ahem, inferior—pilots."

Liao felt mildly annoyed that the Iranians were being so stubborn about this and equally annoyed at Aharoni's quip regarding their skill.

Saara, obviously confused about the situation, spoke up. All eyes fell on her—for most of them, this was the first time they had heard the Toralii language, and none but Liao and Yu understood it.

"Awesome," whispered Rowe, enthralled.

Liao translated. "Saara was just asking why the animosity exists between those two nations." She turned to the Toralii. "Well, it's a conflict going back almost a hundred years without a real resolution in sight. The two nations have been to war several times—"

"Which started with Israel responding to Arabic aggression—" Aharoni opined, drawing a dark frown from Doctor Saeed.

"Who _themselves_ were responding to the forced seizure and colonization of their lands," countered Saeed, leaning forward in his chair, "and the creation of an artificial state in already settled territory backed by the combined might of the world's superpowers... superpowers who simply _displaced_ those already living there—"

"Living in territory promised to the Jewish people, as their sovereign territory, by God himself! Israel is a sovereign nation, and it has a right to exist!"

Saeed's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Well, when _God's_ handing out the real estate contracts, who are we mortals to quarrel with His dictions?"

Aharoni looked ready to continue, but Liao held up her hands for calm.

" _Enough._ "

She gave each of the two men a long, determined stare. "I know there's a lot of animosity between your two peoples, but right now, we are all _human beings_ in this crisis"—a nod to Saara—"more or less, so I want you two to put aside your differences and _behave_ _yourselves_ while you serve on this ship. I know it's not enough to say that you'll simply abandon nigh on a century of anger, but for the moment, I need you two _working together_ against a common enemy, not squabbling amongst yourselves."

"Yes, sir."

"Aye, Captain."

"Good."

Liao stepped back again, giving Grégoire a nod and letting him speak once more.

"Now... to the other part of the _Sydney's_ treat. At 0500 tomorrow, we're equipping all three Pillars of the Earth with close-range autocannons for point defence. The _Sydney_ had her chassis modifications this morning, and she's looking sexy in her new skirt. Task Force Command was concerned that, during the Battle of Jupiter, if the Toralii strike craft had gotten close to the ship, we wouldn't have had any means of hitting them aside from nuking _ourselves_. The autocannons are designed to counteract this deficiency. Originally, we weren't anticipating strike craft, but now that we know the Toralii use them, we'll adjust our tactics accordingly."

"Yeah, we were totally 'point defenceless' before, huh?" offered Rowe, laughing at her own joke. Nobody else except Aharoni laughed.

When the two-person mirth died down, Liao gestured again to the screen.

"So, we have new weapons, new tactics, new crew members, and we have a goal. The Forerunner in our system could be hiding anywhere, but there are only so many Lagrangian points in the system, so we'll find it eventually. But, of course, it's not just a matter of finding the ship. We know that the Forerunners will simply jump to another point if threatened. Obviously, our ships can only be in one place at a time, so the plan is this."

She pointed to the Martian L1 Lagrangian point, the one between Mars and the Sun. "Tomorrow the _Tehran_ , the _Beijing,_ and the _Sydney_ will take up position here. All three ships will be within weapons range of the Lagrangian point, but none so close that its mass would interfere with a potential jump-in... a few thousand kilometres or so. All the crews will be sitting at general quarters for some time, so make sure you all get a good night's rest beforehand."

Grégoire motioned with the laser pointer, drawing green trails out from Mars to each of the planets in the solar system.

"All three ships will use their rail guns to fire nukes at each of the Lagrangian points in the solar system. Given the distances between those points, some nukes will be travelling faster than others; the idea is to time their arrivals so that all nukes arrive roughly together—within a minute or two, give or take. The whole process will take about three days for the first nukes, travelling at one-tenth the speed of light, to reach the Neptunian Lagrange points."

Grégoire paused a moment to let the information sink in and then continued. "For the empty jump points, the shock wave, heat, radiation, and EM disturbance should prevent a jump-in at that location for a few hours; if the Forerunner _is_ there, we anticipate it'll jump away long before the nuke hits."

Aharoni spoke up. "So I'm guessing the plan is to force the Forerunner to jump to another point, right as that point—no matter what point that is—is about to be nuked. So that no matter where it goes, we kill it after it jumps."

Rowe raised her hand, looking to Grégoire. "Sorry, Captain, but that sounds _pretty_ risky. The mathematics of hitting every Lagrangian point in the whole solar system is fairly simple, and we can be precise about that, but what's to say that the Forerunner can't detect that there's no safe point in the system and jump away to another system? I'm _guessing_ you want to force the Forerunner into the sole un-nuked jump point so we can capture it, but what's to stop it simply jumping away to another system and returning with a whole Toralii fleet?"

Liao gave a wide, savage grin that surprised even herself. "Actually, that's plan B, and in a strange way, we're counting on it."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Hang on, just a few months ago, you were fucking spazzing out because one of their scout ships nearly got away—and now you want to _deliberately_ lure their whole fleet to you?"

Liao folded her arms in front of her, nodding firmly.

"That's correct. If it comes to that, we'll make our stand at Mars. Because of the nuke strike, we'll have disabled all the jump points in the system for a time... enough to effectively make a choke point to get into the system. This choke point will be our kill zone. We'll have all three ships, along with our strike fighters, to blast anything that comes through that point straight to hell. There's even talk of establishing terrestrial missile batteries on the surface of Mars and its moons to help out."

Rowe tilted her head to one side. "The report Saara wrote says that the Toralii have 'huge fleets.' That sounds... well, _bad_ for us. What if they keep coming?"

"Then we keep shooting," offered Grégoire. "Although if we get overwhelmed, we nuke the points to temporarily prevent reinforcements from coming in. Fleet Command doesn't anticipate more than one ship coming through at once, so our control over the flow of battle will be very good. Additionally, the ships that jump through have no way of warning the ships that have yet to come through. So if we start to get overwhelmed, we nuke the point and finish off what's left."

"Okay, okay... um."

Summer held up her hand, taking a moment to compose her thoughts, and then continued.

"So we're going to nuke the hell out of the points. That's fine... fairly sure it'll work, but that seems like a temporary solution; what happens when the radiation dissipates, mmm? How long's that going to take? A couple of days, tops? Then the Toralii will have any number of jump points to come in through, and we'll be utterly _fucked_. Seems as though we're just delaying the inevitable."

Saara spoke again, and Liao translated.

"Saara reminds us that the Toralii will be expecting a no-contest victory. A pronounced defeat will send them reeling, and they will be far more cautious in the future. Their navies are powerful, but they as a society are still quite fractured despite their proclaimed unity."

Liao gave a low chuckle. "That, and they haven't been beaten in a while. If we bloody their noses, there's a good chance that they'll want to send in another Forerunner before committing more warships to the fight. Once they see that we're kicking back, there's a good chance they might back off entirely. Still, even if they don't, we have an ace up our sleeves."

Rowe tossed her hair. "Right, right." She gestured down at her handout. "I'm guessing that is this part here, which says something about gravity mines?"

Liao pointed directly to Rowe. "That's right. One more thing I'm going to throw on your plate. In order to secure a long-term lockdown of this whole system, we're going to lay mines in each and every point we think they can use. The mines will take the form of modified Reactionless Drives, designed to mess up the jump points by emitting a randomly fluctuating gravimetric pulse. Then we'll have full control over this whole system. If someone wants to jump in, they'd have to do it through a point we control or spend decades cruising in from deep space. If they do that, we'll have plenty of warning due to our long-range optical telescopes."

Rowe nodded her head thoughtfully and didn't have an answer right away.

Grégoire clicked off the laser pointer and handed it back to Liao, who tucked it into her pocket, took a breath, and addressed the assembled staff.

"Now, tasks. We have a lot to do before we move on the Forerunner, so we all need to be putting in long days until we're good to go. Major Aharoni, I want you to coordinate with Lieutenant Jiang to work out how best to integrate our strike craft into our tactical environment. Organize drills and training; I want the whole strike wing functioning at top efficiency when this party picks up."

"Yes, Captain."

"Aye, Captain."

"Very good. Summer, I want you continuing to work with the engineering teams and seeing what useful intelligence or, in particular, hardware we can get out of the wreckage we have on board. I want you to work with Saara on this; have Lieutenant Yu work with you and translate."

"Sure."

Saara gave her acknowledgement.

Liao gave a nod to Lieutenant Dao and the rest of the operations room crews for the _Tehran_ and the _Sydney_. "Have the navigation teams plot out courses for the nukes and for all three ships. Double- and triple-check everything; we have to get this right the first time. The ship's computer cores should be able to provide sufficient processing power for any simulation you need. Work with Summer to make sure you've got it right, but don't take away from her work on the Toralii wreckage."

Rowe snorted with laughter. "A Commodore 64 was enough to put man on the moon, Captain. The hundreds of gigahertz of processing power we have here will be _more_ than enough."

Liao let the slightest grin play on her lips. "Good. Then I expect no mistakes."

She gestured to Warrant Officer Cheung, whom she had appointed to be head of the ship's marines after the incident with Sheng and the mutiny.

"Warrant Officer, I want you to run daily drills: counter-insurgency and boarding actions. According to Saara, the Toralii quite favour boarding enemy ships and destroying them from the inside out—I want double guards on our power plants and missile tubes. On the day, if there are any intruders, I want you to be quick and brutal; trap them behind bulkheads if they're deep in the ship's belly or activate the fire-suppression protocols and vent them straight into space if they're near the outer hull. Fire fights are a last resort."

"Aye aye, Captain."

More tasks were given out, and every section of the crew had something to do. There was a moment of silence as Liao let everyone digest their orders.

"If there are no more questions, then we're dismissed."

Liao watched as the combined senior staff of the _Beijing_ and the _Tehran_ got up and filed out of the room, leaving her alone. She spent some time in the empty room, mentally revising the plan over and over in her head, trying to work out any complications or problems with it.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was better than doing nothing. It was better than cowering forever, living as a nail constantly waiting for a hammer. The Toralii had wisdom of a sort, but the very nature of humankind required them to investigate everything—every opportunity, every threat—and to confront it. It was just a fundamental urge, a base, primal drive found in all humans.

Liao's mind turned back to the very first humans in Africa and how those primitive people had fought their way out of the continent and then tamed the land, encountered, fought, and overcame innumerable dangers, including a devastating ice age. Humans survived as they always seemed to do despite their fragile bodies, going on to further harness their environment, to produce crops and food to sustain themselves, to develop agriculture.

Agriculture changed humans more than almost any other invention; it allowed some to cater to the many so that the remainder could devote their time to specialization and develop skills, such as tailoring and blacksmithing, that improved the group's overall chance of survival, their comfort, and their technology. From there grew other more cerebral pursuits serving to sharpen the society's intellect: philosophy, science, art, and music. Armed with their intelligence, humans had taken control of their entire planet, Earth, and were now her uncontested leaders.

Earth. The cradle of humanity, the birthplace of the entire species. Without it, they were nothing. Liao pulled out a notepad and scribbled a small message in the corner.

_We must succeed._

She slashed three lines underneath the sentence for emphasis.

Chapter IX

****

Old Wars with Young Soldiers

_*****_

_Captain Liao's Quarters_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Orbit of Earth_

_Two weeks later_

"OOOH, THAT'S GOOOOOOD..."

MELISSA PURRED like a kitten as James expertly stroked and kneaded her back, working out the tension, allowing her to practically melt into the thick, comforting blankets of her bed.

Captain James Grégoire had many talents, it seemed, and naked post-sex back rubs were another thing Melissa could add to the list. They'd spent every night they could in bed together. Although their respective captaincies often had them sleeping apart, the crews of both vessels had been quick to notice the "combined briefings" went from the exception to the norm at a suspiciously fast pace.

"You're unusually tense tonight," he remarked, working at her lower back, causing her to wiggle around in pleasure, his dark hands working her tanned skin firmly and expertly.

"Mmm... yeah, Summer nearly caused me to blow my stack today. She was curious about the plasma pistol they found on Saara's vessel... Saara was trying to show her how to use it safely, and Summer was impatient; she accidentally grabbed what must have been the trigger mechanism and damn near blew Saara's head off. Melted another hole in a bulkhead, which had to be replaced, but—ooohmmm..."

James worked his hands lower, taking the cheeks of her rump into his palms, giving a firm, lingering squeeze.

"Is she okay?"

Melissa gave her hips a cheeky wiggle for James's benefit. "Oh, she'll be just fine, more's the pity. I chewed her out pretty badly, but I'm not sure how much will stick. She looked bored more than anything. Ugh, nothing I say gets through to that girl."

James worked his way down the insides of her legs, her skin still warm and slick with sweat from their recent coitus, and chuckled as Melissa obligingly parted her thighs slightly to give him better access. "I actually meant Saara."

Melissa murmured something gently, her eyes closed as she enjoyed his tender affections. "Oh, she's fine. Lost a little fur, but she's—oooh!—quite fine."

"Hmm! A moan like that suggests I haven't done my job properly." A stray digit wandered up her thighs, gently nudging up between her legs, exploring.

Melissa reached around with her hand, giving James's arm a playful swat. "He-e-ey! Again so soon? My my my... what are you, sixteen again and horny as a dog?"

James casually slid himself over her prone body, and Liao arched her back slightly, teasingly, pressing her rump to his groin. He began kissing the side of her neck, his sable-skinned body pressing tightly to hers. "I _feel_ sixteen again when I'm with you." He gave her ear a playful nibble. "And I thought _I_ was the only one who could 'blow your stack.'"

Melissa softly moaned as he entered her again, her small hands gripping the bed sheets tighter. "That's a _different_ kind of—nnnf! Mmmm!"

_Corridor Twenty Two, near Power Plant One_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Orbit of Earth_

_The next morning_

Liao checked off items from her checklist, taking a full tour of the ship as the crew went about their daily tasks. A full inspection of the ship's power plants occupied her attention for a time, although her mind wandered as she spoke to the engineers in charge of the reactor.

Liao had not had much luck with men in her life. Part of that problem was the fallout from the One-Child Policy leaving far too many men and far too few eligible women to go around. She had been courted by rich businessmen's sons, singers, artists, and ordinary men. Some took her fancy, and she lost her virginity early, but she ended up losing patience with all of them. She was looking for something a little more than physical intimacy but a little less than total commitment. It was an awkward grey area that she could never put into words, no matter how hard she tried. Melissa had slept with many men in her life, but she had never met anyone quite like James. James was _different_. He seemed to be able to ride that balance, to find that little place that she was looking for—a feat none of her other lovers had managed. He was not only skilled—and endowed—but he genuinely cared about her pleasure, too. He was a giving, passionate lover and—

"Captain?"

A young senior lieutenant, an engineer new to the ship's crew, curiously stared at her. The engineer had been talking to her for some time; Liao realized she had been absently playing with the tip of her hair and hadn't been paying attention to a word the crewman had been saying.

"Sorry, Lieutenant. Please go on."

"I was just asking you if you wanted me to reschedule the cooling pump replacement since we're only a few days away from the big operation. I can't really go on because there isn't really much more to say. Um, it's a question, ma'am."

Liao felt flustered. She tried to straighten her shoulders and—for now—flush the fond memories of the nights with James out of her mind, but even this determined effort seemed difficult.

"Yes. Reschedule the replacement for as soon as possible. We'll need all our reactors online when the time comes."

"Aye aye, Captain."

The crewman went about her business and left Liao with her thoughts. James occupied them for a time, but there was work to do. Confident that the engineer's report was accurate and the nuclear power reactors would be at full capacity on the day, Liao moved on. She strolled down the corridors of her vessel, heading towards the stern, where the ship's missiles were stored.

On the way there, she passed Warrant Officer Yanmei Cheung, who was leaning up against the hatchway to one of the deck's armouries. Although Cheung wasn't an officer, Liao had found her to be an excellent head of the marines; she anticipated giving her a field commission at some point, probably during their next resupply run. Still... she _was_ the head of a department, and the idea of her also doing guard duty was a little strange. Curious, Liao turned around and headed back her way.

"Captain." Cheung straightened her back, giving Liao a firm nod. "Everything's shipshape here, ma'am."

Liao nodded in return, frowning ever so slightly. Something felt... slightly off about the whole scenario. Cheung standing here in the corridor. Her formality. Her statement that everything was fine. Well, why wouldn't it be?

"Good to hear it." Liao studied Cheung's expression, but it was impossible to read. "How are the exercises with the marines coming?"

"Very well, Captain. We're running daily drills, counter-insurgency and boarding action, as requested. I've also done a few zero-gravity exercises with a handful of my best people. I didn't want to mention it during the briefing, but there's a possibility we might be fighting on the outside of the hull, if the demons try to get in that way."

"Don't spend too long in microgravity," cautioned Liao. "The techs went to a great deal of effort to make sure we have—more or less—artificial gravity on this boat. Spending too much time outside it has terrible effects on your health. Limit them to no more than one hour per day."

"Aye, Captain. I just thought it prudent in case they board the ship."

Liao hadn't considered zero-gravity combat, but it seemed unlikely. "Despite the risks, I'm inclined to agree, and having additional zero-G experience will be very handy. In a prolonged engagement, there's a possibility the artificial gravity could go off, so I don't want anyone being helpless if that happens."

Cheung nodded. "I know, Captain, and I had the same thought... and took it one step further. Since my people will be the most likely to be near the outer hull during a boarding action, and since a breach would almost certainly be followed by a decompression, I've expanded our training to include practice runs."

"What about weapons? Will they work without an atmosphere?"

Cheung chuckled playfully. "Of course they will. Sorry, it's a common misconception that guns don't work without an atmosphere. Cartridges contain their own oxidizer, so our standard sub-machine guns will work just fine in a vacuum—better, in fact, since there's no air resistance. However, the weapons will heat up very quickly and will jam or get too hot to hold after a few clips. Space might be cold, but it's also a brilliant insulator... just like a Thermos. I pity our armourers too; the heat will damage the lubricants, and the weapons will require a complete after-action rebuild and clean." Cheung's smile was slightly nervous. "So don't worry about our defences from that perspective, Captain."

Liao, suspecting that Cheung was unhappy correcting her commanding officer, nodded understandingly. Cheung's specialist knowledge was why she was on the crew; Liao could not be expected to know everything.

"Good. Keep up the good work."

Melissa almost went to leave but stopped. Cheung had relaxed as she went to step away but now seemed to tense up again. It might have just been nerves, or...

"One question, if you could? What's behind that hatchway?"

"Uh, this one? It's an armoury, so... just guns, Captain. Ammunition and guns: flash-bang grenades, flares, glow sticks, radios, you know... armoury stuff."

Melissa frowned sceptically, putting her hands on her hips. Her instincts shouted at her; something wasn't right at all. "Right, well, I guess I should include armoury inspection on my daily checklist. Let's take a look, shall we? I'd like to make sure, personally, that everything is shipshape."

"Commander Iraj already inspected it, ma'am. Just this morning."

Liao was surprised at that answer. She paused just a moment to let her words sink in. "And while I'm certain he did a good job, I said I wanted to inspect the armoury _personally_ , Warrant Officer. So please open the hatchway."

"I'd rather you reconsider, Captain." Cheung looked distinctly nervous, and her eyes flicked from side to side, unable to match Liao's intense stare.

They had already had one mutiny aboard the ship during Liao's time as commanding officer. She hoped—fiercely—that she was not facing another. Cheung had always been loyal, though. That's why she had made her the chief of marines. What in the devil was going on?

"Marine, I'm ordering you to about-face, open the hatchway, and show me inside."

After a moment's hesitation, Cheung blew out a low, nervous sigh, nodding her head. "Very well, Captain. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Turning on her heel, Cheung turned the handle on the doorway until it gave a soft _clank_ and stopped. Liao could hear voices and movement inside the room. Her hand slowly, instinctively drifted to her sidearm as Cheung pushed open the door.

The first sound she heard was a girlish giggle followed by an equally girlish moan.

Alex Aharoni had Summer Rowe bent over one of the ammunition crates, their clothing haphazardly scattered around the deck, her red hair bobbing wildly as Major Aharoni thumped his groin against her freckled backside.

Hearing the door open, Rowe—her eyes still closed—stifled another playful little moan and waved her hand in the air. "Ahh... ahh... Yanmei, piss off, we're not done yet!"

"Oh, I think you're _quite_ done," Liao's Captain's Voice was at work again, sharp and commanding. Rowe's eyes snapped open, and the two of them frantically disengaged.

For a moment, nobody said anything, the two of them standing there naked with Cheung and Liao looking on.

Rowe shot Cheung a dark look, turned her eyes to Liao, and finally broke the silence.

"So-o-o... Captain! Hey! What a surprise seeing _you_ here!"

"I'm surprised to _be_ here, myself, but more surprised at seeing the two of you... well... creating an unsanitary condition in my armoury."

Apparently unconcerned by his nudity, Aharoni gave Liao a wide grin, his hands on his hips. "Sorry, Captain. Just enjoying a little recreational time between shifts. A little social networking—"

"Oh, you're _networked all right._ I can see _that_."

Rowe absently picked up her shirt, holding it in front of her and frowning at Liao. "Hey, if you're going to chew us out, could you at least, you know, close the door?"

Liao motioned to Cheung, who turned and sealed the hatchway.

"Before you start," Rowe accused, pointing her finger towards Liao with her free hand, "don't get all hypocritical on us just because we're having a little fun when we're off duty. We _know_ you're fucking Captain Grégoire."

"Oh, _do you now_?" she questioned, a distinctive edge to her tone. She turned to Aharoni. "You know my policy about rumours aboard my ship, but we're not talking about me, are we, Mister Aharoni?"

"No, Captain. May I put on some pants?" A sly grin formed on the man's face. "Or are you just enjoying the view?"

Rowe elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up. Can't you see she's _pissed_?"

Liao pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes a moment. "Okay, the bottom line is... you're both off duty at the moment, you're both consenting adults, and you're both... young and stupid enough to do something as crazy as shagging in an ammo locker in lieu of getting a good night's sleep only a few days before the launch of one of the most important operations mankind has ever embarked on."

"It's good for my morale, Captain," Aharoni argued. "And besides, it's not so late that we're missing out on sleep." He coughed. "Not that we do a lot of sleeping when we're in bed together anyway."

Liao held up her hands to make him stop. "Your shared nocturnal activities are, unfortunately, _not_ none of my business, but I _really_ don't need specifics. How long has this been going on?"

Rowe shrugged, glancing at Aharoni. "I'm not sure, Jazz—when did you come on board, again? The day after that?"

Liao wrinkled her nose at Rowe calling her best pilot by his remarkably juvenile call sign but said nothing.

"Something like that," Aharoni answered. "Or maybe it was that same day. I think it was after that boring-as-hell briefing. Yeah... it was. I asked you for a drink, and you said something flirty, and that was when we broke into the mess hall and—"

"Enough!" Liao blinked a few times, shaking her head. "What the hell am I going to do with you two?"

A moment of silence as Liao pinched her nose again. Then she just threw her hands in the air helplessly. "Well, look. It's not harming anyone, and as long as you two keep it discrete, I don't really care what the hell you two kids do instead of rack time."

Rowe looked ready to speak, but Liao cut her off. "But... _no_ more shagging in public places. In your bunks only and certainly not while you're on duty."

"Aye, Captain."

"Okey-dokey."

Shaking her head at Rowe's informality but feeling unable to chide her about it since the redhead was stark naked, Liao beat a swift retreat out of the room. She let Cheung step out first, began to close the door, but then stopped.

"Oh, and about that view?" Liao winked slyly as she shut the hatchway. "James is bigger."

"Ha! I _knew_ you were fu—"

_Later_

"So, how long have you known about those two clowns?"

Liao walked down the corridor with Cheung, who gave a low chuckle. "A few days, Captain. I sprung them together in a nuke tube when the engineers were doing maintenance on it."

Liao shot the marine an incredulous glance. "In a _missile launch tube_?" They rounded a corner, and Liao nodded to some junior enlisted crew who jumped out of her way. "Are those things even _pressurized_?"

"Not during normal operations, no, but since we had work crews doing a maintenance run before the big operation, we temporarily pressurized them. It takes about an hour to check each missile, so they just slipped in when they saw the others being worked on."

"The fuck? What if we had to open the launch bay doors?"

Cheung shrugged absently as the two walked towards the stern of the vessel. "They would probably get flushed out to space and die, and we would never know what happened to them. I mean, this ship is a closed system, so _eventually_ we'd just have to assume they somehow got away from the ship. But I mean... the radar's not configured to look for objects of that density, so they'd probably be automatically filtered out."

Liao digested that for a moment. "Those stupid... ugh, I can't believe it. I guess I'll have to tell them not to bump uglies anywhere they might be flushed out into space at a moment's notice."

"I thought you already did that."

Liao shrugged. "Technically, I told them not to bang on duty, and not to do it in a public place. I'm not sure a missile launch tube is classified as a public place, but... I did specify they should do it only in their rack, though. I can always fall back on that."

"That's true."

Liao sighed. "It seems like everyone's just getting busy." She waved a hand at the marine absently. "I'm guessing _you're_ seeing one of the men on the side, too."

"Uh, no." Cheung grinned lopsidedly. "I like girls, sir."

"Oh." Liao felt slightly flustered, shaking her head.

Cheung just gave her a playful nudge.

"I thought that was fairly common knowledge, Captain."

Liao made a confused face. "Actually, I'd heard occasional whispers to that effect, but I just assumed they were the standard jokes. You know, female head of the marines... well, she's _gotta_ be a lesbian if she chose that position. I guess I just didn't expect something so, um, cliché to be accurate. Sorry."

Cheung didn't seem offended, and she just smiled. "Don't worry about it, Captain. It's an honest mistake. It's happened before, and it'll happen again."

"All right."

Liao and Cheung turned and began walking back towards the operations room at the heart of the ship.

"So," began Liao, "you didn't answer my question."

"Am I seeing anyone on the crew?"

"That's the one."

Cheung smiled, shaking her head. "No, Captain. Not at this time. I actually have someone back home."

"Hmm, that's unusual. I thought the Task Force preferred single people—less chance of homesickness on long voyages."

"That's technically true, but the form only specified 'husband or boyfriend.' Since I have neither, I ticked neither."

Liao chuckled. "Cunning. I like that." Seeing Cheung's strange look, she playfully held up a hand. "Not _like_ like, marine. Relax."

"I was going to _say_." Cheung laughed, and as they turned another corner, she continued, "But, you know, well... you said before that it's strange that everyone's hooking up at this critical juncture. It doesn't seem strange to me."

"Really?" Liao raised an eyebrow, regarding the taller, stronger woman. "You don't think they should be focused on their duty?"

"Are _you_?"

That caught Liao by surprise. Stopping in the corridor, she closed her eyes a moment and then sighed. "Are James and I really that obvious?"

"Fairly obvious, yes, and it's normal. Don't worry about it, Captain." Cheung beckoned her to continue, and the two resumed walking. "Soldiers all throughout history have gone to war—have stood on the precipice of strife, of battle, of unimaginable chaos and death and misery—knowing when dawn came, they could lose it all.

"It was in those times, Captain, that their minds turned not to the conflict ahead of them but to their families. Their friends in their hometowns, the people they loved, the people they were fighting to protect."

Cheung gave a smile, holding open a door for Liao, and then the two stepped through into the final corridor before operations.

"And if they're like Summer, or Alex, who don't have anyone—then they _manufacture_ someone."

Liao stopped her before they could get into eavesdropping range of operations. "That's what you think James is to me? More than just a warm body, he's... I need him because I need someone worth fighting for? That's all he is?"

" _Is_ he?" Cheung paused, regarding Liao, who felt oddly disturbed by what she was saying.

"I don't know. Not yet," Liao clarified, reaching out and touching the taller woman's arm. "But I... I don't know."

"We're young women and men, Captain, but we're standing in the shoes of our ancestors. Humans of all nations, of all ethnicities, of all faiths and colours and creeds have stood where we are standing now—on the brink of war. The reasons behind every struggle may change, Captain, and these may seem like new and fascinating times, but _all_ wars are old wars."

Liao remembered something her mother told her once. "And in war it is the youth who suffer."

She bit her lower lip, suddenly unable to walk into the operations room, her eyes falling to the steel hatchway that led there. "Not everyone is going to survive this trip out, are they?"

"No," was Cheung's answer, her voice soft. "But we all know the risks."

"That's an old soldier's answer if I ever heard one."

"I'm not old"—Cheung gave her Captain a playful pat on the arm—"but I will be one day. Mark my words; I intend to get as old as possible."

With a final glance towards her marine head, Liao nodded and stepped towards operations.

"So do I."

_Operations Room_

_TFR_ Beijing

Cheung's words echoing in her mind, Liao stepped through the threshold into the operations room. Whenever she came here, it was like stepping into another world. This was the ship's brain, but Liao preferred to think of it as his beating heart—the pulsating, organic, living centre of the vessel. It was from here that his lifeblood, information, was pumped along the ship's length to every part of its body.

She was relieved to see that most of the operations crew had taken to heart her advice—not an order—to sleep well; the room was staffed by a skeleton crew and the night shift, who had started early.

Liao had slept during the swing shift; she wanted to be awake and alert for both the engagement and its prelude even as she advised her crew against the same course of action. The hypocrisy, although made with good intentions, still weighed upon her.

Of course, it had _nothing_ to do with the fact that this was the only shift Grégoire could visit.

Thus, it was with some trepidation that she picked up her digital pad and reviewed the ship's status. It was, as it had been for several days, at the absolute peak of its readiness.

Liao went to call Rowe to operations, but as she reached for the intercom, she realized that she was already there, sitting in the corner and reading. Liao walked over, her curiosity getting the better of her. She hoped it was a technical manual or something work related.

"You got here fast."

"Mmm?" The redhead looked up, regarding Liao. "Oh, yeah, well..."

"I know you're not meant to be on duty now, but you are meant to be sleeping if you're not." A pause. "What are you reading?"

Rowe handed the paperback to Liao. "It's called _The Touch of Tears._ "

"Oh, that?" Liao chuckled. "From what I hear, it's more popular than Harry-fucking-Potter these days. Just don't read it when you're on the job."

Rowe sighed dramatically, tucking the voluminous book under her arm. " _Fine_. Anyway, technically speaking, aren't you meant to be in bed too, Captain?"

"I couldn't sleep. I never can before the big operations." Liao gave a wistful smile. "Or before Chinese New Year, for that matter. I'd stay awake, trying to count down the hours until midnight... just as I am now, I suppose."

Rowe regarded her, raising a red-haired eyebrow. "That's not good," she observed, "since it means you'll get tired. Tired captains make mistakes."

"I don't make mistakes." Liao grinned down at the redhead. "That's just one of the advantages of being captain. You're never wrong; in the event you say or do something incorrect, it's actually the universe _itself_ that is wrong."

"Technically," Rowe began, "while you _are_ the captain of the _Beijing_ , your naval rank is only Commander. So that rule doesn't apply yet."

"Oh, little grasshopper, how much you have yet to learn."

Rowe grinned. "Did Confucius say that, Captain?"

Liao returned the expression in kind. "No, I did." She reached down and patted the woman on her head. "You can steal the quote, don't worry."

Rowe laughed. "I'm just sorry I didn't have something snappier to come back at you."

Liao smirked down at Rowe. "Aw now, don't be bitter. Bitterness is like taking poison and expecting someone else to die. You should learn to let these things go!"

"Was _that_ Confucius?"

Liao put her hands on her hips, smirking and raising an eyebrow. "Charlie Chaplin. Just because I'm Chinese doesn't mean everything I say somehow relates back to Confucius."

"I'll keep that in mind." Snickering, Rowe went back to her book, and Liao walked over to the centre of the mostly empty operations room.

In a few hours, it would be full of the best crew the human species had to offer, and they would launch the first real strike against the aliens who had killed so many. They would capture or destroy the Forerunner. Then, armed with the knowledge taken from its remains, they would take the fight to the Toralii.

A red, blinking light on the tactical console drew her attention. From the rear of the room came the shout of the swing-shift communications officer, whose name did not immediately leap into memory.

"C-Captain Liao! Radar contact!"

Liao whirled about, her eyes wide. "Where?"

"Directly in front of us! Right at the L1 jump point! Mass: twenty thousand tonnes, approximately. Configuration unknown. Multiple smaller contacts!"

Twenty thousand tonnes. The size of a capital ship. Liao practically ran to the man's console, putting her hand on his shoulder and watching his readings. "Is it one of ours?"

"Negative, Captain. The _Sydney_ and the _Tehran_ are both accounted for and in position. Optics confirms it's Toralii."

There was a slight pause as the communications officer read information from the console. Shocked, he twisted in his seat, glancing at Liao.

"Ma'am, they're transmitting a signal. The Toralii are _hailing_ us."

Act IV

Chapter X

****

A Pretty Little String of Pearls

_*****_

_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 therefore 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 certainly 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 with 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

_*****_

_Operations Room_

_TFR_ Beijing

_L1 Earth Lagrangian Point_

_A day later_

LIAO WAS _STRONGER_ THAN THIS. She was stronger than tears, stronger than the hurt Grégoire had done to her, stronger than the realization that she had unwittingly used sex to further her career.

It was something that had always eaten at her, the idea that she might, one day, seek the easy path and simply take the low-hanging fruit offered to her. And there were many offerings. Naturally, most of the members of the armed forces were men, and in modern Chinese society—again, thanks to the One-Child Policy—a pretty woman of reproductive age and function, even in her early thirties, was something valuable. She could, even now, without much difficulty, find an easy life.

But Liao did not want an easy life purchased with vapid giggles and pretty looks. This path was one she had chosen for herself.

"All hands report ready for the jump, Captain."

Lieutenant Dao, the chief navigator, twisted in his chair to regard the captain. Liao nodded firmly, absently drumming her fingers on her command console.

"Good. Power up the jump drive and program in the coordinates. Perform stage four checks and let me know when they're complete."

A swift glance around operations revealed that Summer Rowe, their chief technician for this critical, monumental task, was nowhere to be seen. Liao's blood pressure spiked in fury. That woman!

"Has the _Tehran_ received the jump coordinates?"

Dao nodded. "Double- and triple-checked, ma'am. They're powering their jump drive and are reporting ready for stage four."

Liao heard the noise of the operations hatchway being manipulated. The metal door swung open, revealing a slightly frazzled redhead who slipped sheepishly into the room. Instantly Liao strode over to her, boots clicking as she stepped towards Rowe, hands folded in front of her as she approached.

"Summer Rowe, front and centre. Answer this question: are you, or are you _not_ , the chief technician for this operation?"

Blinking in surprise at the aggressive questioning, Rowe nodded confusedly. "Yes."

Liao was unable to keep the infuriated edge out of her tone. " _Good_ , because I was beginning to wonder. Perhaps you'd like to explain why you chose to arrive _late_ to this critical operation?"

"I'm... sorry?" Rowe rubbed the back of her head. "I guess I just overslept."

Liao scowled, fixing a dark look on the redhead. "You... _overslept_? Rowe, this represents a serious breach of discipline, and I'm afraid it's only the latest in a long string of incidences which I have been _gracious_ enough to overlook due to your civilian status." Liao drummed her fingers against her opposite arm in aggravation. "I'd like you to explain to me why I should continue to do so, given how frivolously you seem to treat your position aboard this ship."

Rowe frowned in anger and confusion. All eyes in the operations room were fixed on the two of them, something that Liao knew made the socially awkward woman even more uncomfortable.

She didn't care.

"I don't know. I guess... I mean, I'm the best person you've got to work this technology, so I guess that's why you have to—"

"Rowe, there are literally _thousands_ of highly qualified scientists and engineers back on Earth who would give their right arms to work and live on this ship. You know this; I know this. And I _know_ that they would be respectful, would file their paperwork on time, and would in all things display a sense of discipline, both academic and _personal_."

Liao did not mean to not-so-subtly bring up Rowe's relationship with Aharoni, but the words stumbled out of her mouth before she could even process them. "So what I'm saying, Rowe, is that they, when offered such a prestigious prize as a position aboard _my_ ship, would at least have the common courtesy to _show up on time_."

"B-But—"

" _Enough_... I'll deal with you later. Now, take your station."

Abruptly, Liao spun on her heel and marched back to her console, glaring down at it and checking her readings. She could tell in her peripheral vision that many of the operations crew exchanged subtle glances at her uncharacteristic outburst. Rowe, in particular, muttered something unflattering about her to Lieutenant Dao as she passed.

The minutes ticked down. The last few checks were performed, the heavy decompression doors descended, and the last few procedures were executed as Liao tried desperately to keep her mind on the job and away from her recent troubles with Captain James Grégoire.

Despite it all, despite everything that had happened last night, for reasons that escaped her utterly, she had chosen to wear the pearls James gave her, carefully tucked underneath her uniform and out of sight. The feel of the polished pearls tucked beneath her neckline gave her some comfort despite the pain he'd caused with his actions.

She chose to ignore whatever symbolism this feeling represented. Liao had seriously considered not wearing them... but it didn't seem right. They were a gift, given honestly, and James had gone to extraordinary effort to procure them for her. Today, on this auspicious occasion, Liao chose to be a better person than one who would reject a gift honestly given. She would have to be better; her duty to humanity would demand no less. It wouldn't be right to bring her petty squabbles into this.

Not today. Today was a day for making _history_.

The chatter and busywork was uncharacteristically quiet in the operations room, and Liao, by now accustomed to the high ambient noise level in the area, found the situation slightly unnerving; even the nigh-constant clacking of fingers on keyboards was strangely muted. Deep down, she suspected that, after the episode with Rowe, nobody on the crew wanted to be her next victim.

This thought caused her frown to deepen. James—or more correctly, her _relationship_ with James—was causing her and her crew friction. This was exactly what she meant when she'd said there'd be issues if they took it too far, if they allowed their personal feelings to influence their judgement.

Silence reigned until Dao's voice broke the spell. "Stage four checks completed, Captain. Coordinates are locked in, and the drive is fully powered. We're ready to turn the keys."

To prevent accidental activation, the jump system required the insertion and simultaneous turning of two individual keys. On each of the three Pillars of the Earth, the commanding officer held one, and the first officer held the other.

With a single twist of her wrist, the ship and the entire crew would disappear and reappear millions of light-years away. They had no idea what to expect. The event would be the first time in humanity's history that they would engage a jump drive. It was the first time humans were going to exist outside of the solar system, their cradle—and, of course, the first time they would be making war in another system.

Pushing those thoughts into the same corner of her mind where she had pushed thoughts of James, Liao gave her first officer a nod then reached into her pocket and retrieved the simple-looking key. Spending a moment looking at the humble thing in her hand, she stepped over to the jump system and waited until Kamal had his key ready too.

Liao paused, banishing the thoughts of James from her mind through sheer determination. She hoped—hoped beyond hope—that her mind would remain unclouded and focused. To occupy her thoughts, she tried her damnedest to appreciate the significance of what they were about to do, of the great and truly wondrous mission they were about to undertake. She and her crew were about to execute the very first jump in human history, albeit one straight into the middle of an enemy fleet of unknown size, configuration, firepower, and existence. They would do this insane, risky thing, and it would be done by her hand.

Swallowing her uncertainties, her doubts, and her fears, Liao gave a nod. "Very well, Mister Iraj, set general quarters throughout the ship and seal the decompression doors. Bring all reactors to full power. Arm and ready nukes, charge rail gun capacitors, and evacuate non-critical sections. Inform Mister Cheung to prepare the marines for action."

She glanced over her shoulder to the fresh-faced communications officer, whose name she had learned was Jung Hsin. "Mister Hsin, contact the _Tehran_. We are jumping in twenty seconds. Mister Ling, disable artificial gravity."

The _Tehran_ would jump in thirty seconds behind them. Suddenly weightless, Liao felt her stomach lurch as a slight motion caused her to rise off the floor and slowly float towards the ceiling. Holding on to the jump console, she and her first officer exchanged a final glance and then both pushed their keys in, giving each a half turn to the right. As both keys clicked into place, there was a gentle hum and then... nothing.

Liao had expected a flash of light or a twist in perspective or some kind of fundamental change in her local environment that would acknowledge the dramatic, intense event that had just occurred. Instead, the only noise was the quiet hum of the ship's computers and the occasional chirp from a console to break the eerie silence.

Liao withdrew her key, replacing it within the special pocket on her hip.

"Report!"

The previous quiet, which until that moment had seemed utterly palpable, was suddenly broken by dozens of shouting voices.

"Jump complete, Captain!"

"Radar online. Multiple contacts!"

"Rail guns ready, Captain!"

"Missiles standing by!"

"Hull plating charged!"

Artificial gravity came back on, slowly, and Liao floated back down to the deck. In seconds, it was back to Earth normal.

The voices continued to shout out. Liao, rather than answer each of them directly, had to prioritize. None of the reports sounded negative—no problems so far—so she put her mind to attacking.

"Tactical! Mister Jiang, give me a sitrep!"

Jiang's reply came almost instantly. "One facility, ten thousand kilometres off the port side, Captain. Estimated mass: five hundred thousand tonnes. Six vessels—no, wait, seven vessels—appear to be docked, all of various masses, shapes, and sizes. Most are around eighty thousand tonnes, two are in the two hundred thousand range!"

Liao gripped her console tightly, nodding. "One nuke each, then, and three for the facility itself. Target centre of mass. Impact detonations. Reload immediately and fire for effect."

Jiang's fingers flew over her keyboard frantically. "Confirm that! Missiles away, Captain!"

Liao nodded. They had preloaded the rail guns with nukes, too, and now was the time to use them. "Rail guns, target the closest, largest ship. Fire for effect until the target is silent. Keep hitting them until they're nothing but slag."

"Aye aye, Captain. Firing!"

Lieutenant Ling urgently beckoned Commander Iraj over to her console. Although Liao did not hear what they said, in moments the voice of her first officer cut over the chatter. "Captain Liao! The TFR _Tehran_ reports they have successfully jumped into the system and are engaging the enemy!"

"Good!" Liao once more put thoughts of James and his actions out of her mind. Now was not the time. "Patch them into our target-control computers so we can cross-reference our information. Compensate for the latency however you can." She turned back to Jiang at tactical. "ETA on missile volleys?"

"One minute, Captain. Looking to be good effect on target."

Captain Liao nodded, stepping over to stand behind Lieutenant Dao. "Mister Dao, are we still holding in the Lagrangian point?"

The man nodded. "Yes, Captain. We can jump out as soon as the jump drive is fully charged... so, just over six minutes."

Six minutes. A _lot_ could happen in six minutes. Seven ships was more than they were expecting, but at the same time, it was _more than they were expecting,_ and they were all caught completely off guard. If they could destroy all seven of them, that would be a huge blow to the Toralii Alliance.

Jiang called to her again. "Second missile volley loaded and away, Captain! Rail guns engaged at maximum sustainable rate of fire!"

"Very good, Mister Jiang! Continue fire for effect!"

Liao studied the radar screen on Ling's station, watching as the small red dots flew towards the larger, seemingly inactive station.

"Impact in five, four, three, two, one. Signals have merged. Reading... reading multiple detonations!"

A wild cheer sprang up from the operations crew. Liao grinned eagerly, nodding. "ETA on second barrage?"

Jiang tapped a few more keys. "Three minutes, Captain."

Liao studied the high-definition radar screen intently. "Focus our long-range radar on the facility and the ships. Any sign of debris?"

Ling nodded his head. "Some." He seemed less enthused than Liao had hoped. That generally meant there was something wrong. "There's been significant contact spread from the initial impacts on the smaller vessels. Based on the debris spread we saw from the scout ship, they've probably been heavily damaged, but the larger ships... not so much. The facility, too, seems less affected than I hoped."

Liao nodded. "They're almost certain to be hardened against all kinds of weapons." She straightened her back, turning to Jiang. "Mister Jiang! Finish off the smaller ships and then focus on the larger ones."

A third missile wave flew away from their vessel, the hum of the rail guns a constant beat as they fired barrage after barrage. Loading them with nukes again would take too long and be far too dangerous to do in combat, so the gun crews switched to ferrous rounds, firing their projectiles at unfathomable speed towards the station and larger ships.

"Captain Liao!" Hsin caught her attention from the communications station. "The _Tehran_ reports that their facility appears to be either a fuel or ammunition depot. Whatever it is, it went up like a _light_! They jumped in next to it and fired; it blew right up after their first barrage and took out most of the ships docked with it. They're moving in to mop up what's left."

Despite herself, Liao couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that James had one-upped her and the efforts of her crew. "No such luck for us, though; our facility is still standing. Congratulate them and continue to receive regular status updates."

Jiang spoke up from the tactical station. "Captain Liao, the second missile barrage has impacted on the targets. Once again, multiple detonations, good effect on target."

Ling jabbed a finger at his screen. "Captain, the station is launching strike craft! I'm reading... a hundred, at least, possibly two hundred distinct contacts."

Liao nodded, they were expecting that. "Mister Jiang, disable master arm on point-defence cannons and inform gun crews to fire at will, weapons free. Signal Major Aharoni and tell him to launch our strike craft. Cross-reference firing solutions with point-defence. I don't want us shooting down our own birds."

"Aye aye, Captain. Point-defence set to weapons free; strike craft away."

Liao stared at the various radar displays, watching as the large swarm of strike craft flew out from the Toralii station. Their own craft—heavily outnumbered—flew in to match them. The two clouds merged, and Liao listened to the chatter through an available earpiece.

"Jazz, break right. Break right!"

"He's right behind you. Got him!"

"Good tone, good tone... Fox two!"

Liao switched the channels on her headset; she could give no instructions directly to them that would be of any help since the radar signal of the fighter swarms had merged and there was no way to tell who was who. Alex would have to handle it on his own. "Mister Ling, status on targets?"

The man's response was heartening. "The smaller vessels appear to have been disabled or destroyed, but the facility is _still_ active. I'm detecting energy discharges. They're firing at us, and the larger ships are moving away from their mooring stations. But based on the debris field, they've all been heavily damaged!"

The ship shook as the Toralii brought their weapons to bear. The station's batteries opened up, and the rate of fire was intense. Liao could see by the thermal camera image on her command console that most of the shots went wide. The gunners on the station appeared to be less concerned with accuracy than she would have expected. This made avoiding the blasts practically impossible... which, she supposed, would be the whole point.

"Hull temperature rising!" Jiang called, "Breach on deck four, no casualties!"

Liao nodded in acknowledgement. No casualties, as expected. The outer sections of all decks were evacuated and, at general quarters, barely pressurized, but it was a bad sign that the aliens were able to punch holes in their ship so easily. The station had much stronger weapons than the scout ship they'd encountered earlier.

"Dispatch damage control teams to that section," was Iraj's command, and Jiang nodded and began speaking into her headset.

Liao watched on the radar screen as their most recent missiles smashed into their targets. Fortunately, it seemed to have an effect; most of the energy barrage withered and slowed almost to a crawl, and all she could see on the radar screen was a confusing spray of debris. Further, the large cloud of wreckage slowly spreading out from the station seemed to be playing havoc with whatever the Toralii Alliance used for guidance; their aim worsened considerably. Coupled with the reduced rate of fire, the barrages hitting the ship almost completely stopped.

Ling's shout cut over the chatter. "Captain! Multiple radar contacts—ships are jumping in all over the system. I count... seven, no, eight warships appearing at nearby Lagrange points. More could be beyond the range of our radar. Make that nine!"

Nine was too many. _Way_ too many. They couldn't jump into the point that the _Beijing_ occupied, they hoped, but Liao didn't want to take that chance.

"We've done enough. Recall the strike fighters, and power up the jump drive. Prepare the ship to return to the Sol system. Mister Hsin, signal the _Tehran,_ message as follows: 'Mission complete. Withdrawing to rendezvous.'"

"Aye aye, Captain!" Hsin went to work.

Rowe called over the din. "Jump drive charged, Captain. Ready to cut artificial gravity on your mark!"

Liao nodded. "Thank you, Rowe, but we're still waiting on our strike fighters!" She pulled up the ship's short-range communications handset and spun it to the strike crafts' communications frequency. She pressed the talk key.

"Attention all strike craft, this is _Beijing_ actual; all birds return to the ship _immediately_. Mission complete. We are leaving."

She heard Aharoni's voice, charged with adrenaline and energy. "Confirmed, _Beijing_ , we are already RTB!"

Liao grabbed the console, holding herself and preparing for the inevitable wave of nausea that would accompany the lack of gravity. "Mister Iraj?"

The Iranian man appeared beside her, key in hand. "Ready, Captain!"

The surviving Toralii ships opened up on them with everything they had, rocking the ship from stem to stern. The _Beijing_ weathered wave after wave of enemy fire as they waited for their strike craft to return. Liao saw another wave of their missiles strike the giant station and, judging from what she saw on Ling's radar screen, a sudden loss of mass. Their thermal cameras showed the bright stars of secondary explosions within the station and, based on the thin sliver of a crack, the station slowly breaking in half. The rest of that station's ships floundered and broke apart as the blast waves from nuclear detonations struck them again and again.

Liao's short-range communications handset crackled to life. "This is Jazz, all strike craft recovered!"

Liao gave Dao a meaningful nod and, with the flick of a switch, the gravity disengaged again. Liao's black hair floated around her face as both officers inserted their keys and twisted them.

The steady rain of fire hitting the _Beijing_ immediately ceased. There was, once again, a strange silence as nobody knew what to expect.

"Jump complete, Captain," came Ling's report. Liao gave him a curt nod although she couldn't hold back a fierce grin, either.

"Excellent. Restore gravity, Mister Dao, and move out of the jump point. Engage the gravity mines. We don't want them following us." Moments later, Liao's feet slowly drifted back to the metal deck as gravity gradually returned. She used the jump console to steady herself, breathing an audible sigh of relief as her toes touched the deck.

" _Well done_ , everyone. Mission complete. Mister Rowe, contact engineering and get a damage report. I want to know how badly my ship got bruised."

"A little, but not nearly as bad as they did," Rowe observed, to low chuckles all around the room. "We smashed them! It was like watching the Yanks get pummelled by the Japanese at Pearl Harbour. They were completely unprepared, and we kicked their asses!" Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Captain."

Liao raised an eyebrow at that comment, which she thought was a very strange but accurate assessment of the situation. "Agreed, somewhat, but remember that the Japanese ultimately _lost_ that war." She mulled over the sobering words for a moment before letting her fierce grin return. "So next time, try to compare us to the _winners_ , will you?"

Turning to face the rest of the crew, she cleared her throat. "But yes, a successful raid." She shook her head, half with disbelief, half with pride. " _Masterfully_ done, all... You've earned your pay today. Drinks are on me. Mister Ling, please contact the _Tehran_ and offer our congratulations to Captain James Grégoire."

There was a pause before Ling answered. His voice was quiet and worried. "Uh, Captain Liao?"

"Yes, Mister Ling?"

"There's no sign of the _Tehran_ on our radar, Captain. They haven't jumped back yet."

Commander Iraj frowned in confusion, glancing around the room for confirmation. "That's... _odd_. The two ships were supposed to jump back together. Did they misjump? Are you sure they haven't ended up at a different Lagrange point?"

"Very sure, Commander. At least, none within our radar range. It'll take us some time to check all of the points in the system, however, speed of light and all."

Liao ordered the radar on a long-range sweep, biting on her lower lip as the minutes ticked by. Lieutenant Ling, with her watching over his shoulder, began checking the nearby Lagrange points, especially the L2 point where the _Tehran_ was scheduled to appear.

But it did not.

Fifteen minutes later, with no sign of Grégoire or his vessel, Liao decided that she had given them enough time. "Rowe? We've waited long enough. We're going back for them. Prepare the ship for jump. All hands return to general quarters."

There was a nervous shuffle from the redhead. "Wait... we're going to jump _back_ there?"

Liao nodded, folding her arms. "That's correct. The _Tehran_ was supposed to jump back with us; the fact that they have not after a quarter hour shows that they require assistance, assistance I plan to provide."

Kamal Iraj appeared by her side, dropping his voice so only she could hear. "Captain, we don't know the full situation in the Hades system at the moment, but one thing we _do_ know is that we stirred up the hornet's nest pretty well before we jumped out. If we jump back there now, well... this time they'll be ready for us. There'll be another six-minute delay before we can jump out again if we need to, and given how many ships were jumping in there as we were leaving, I'm not sure we could hold out that long."

Iraj paused for effect. "Think this _through_ , Captain. We can't go back. All we can do is wait for the _Tehran_ to make their way back on their own."

Liao fixed her gaze upon the Persian man, turning to squarely face her first officer, following Iraj's lead and keeping her voice quiet. "I'm not sure I made myself clear," she whispered. "The _Tehran_ represents fully one third of the TFR's naval assets. Although we were sustaining significant fire from the station before we disabled it, the jump point we attacked should be clear. At the very least, we can and should perform a reconnaissance-in-force to assess the situation."

_One third of the TFR's naval assets_. It was with a sudden wave of anger, shame, and regret that she realized that Commander Sheng had said the exact same words, back during the battle of Jupiter, to try to convince her not to attack the Toralii scout—words she had dismissed him from his post for. She was saying the _exact same thing_ and all for the wrong reasons.

Iraj considered for a moment, his face screwing up in thought. Liao opened her mouth to take back what she had said, but the Persian man spoke first.

"Actually, I agree."

_That_ took Liao by surprise. She had sensed his regret and was about to change her mind, retract her previous statement, and agree to settle down to wait, but Iraj had apparently come around to her line of thinking.

Doubt gnawed at her for a moment as she folded her hands in front of her. "Uh, you're not saying that because I threw the last first officer who questioned my orders into the brig and subsequently _shot_ him... are you?"

Iraj gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Captain, I... I know James means a lot to you, but that fact alone couldn't sway me to change my mind. I genuinely think we should assist the _Tehran_ if we can or at least find out what's going on and why they can't jump back."

Still mildly taken aback by Iraj's agreement, she nodded. Iraj turned away from her, to the rest of the operations crew, clearing his throat.

"Rowe, prepare the ship for jump."

Rowe looked uneasy but nodded. "All right, then. Making jump preparations. Prepare for stage one."

She and the rest of the operations crew worked for a time, stepping through the now-familiar routine. Although readying the ship for a jump only took a few minutes once its jump drive was charged, to Liao those minutes seemed to crawl by.

Soon enough she felt the now-familiar lurch as the artificial gravity was switched off, her hair floating around her head as she and Kamal once again inserted their dual keys and twisted them to the right.

However, this time, the ship's systems immediately began screaming at them; dozens of alarms squealing and crying at once. Liao snapped her head around to Rowe's console.

"What the—report! Report!"

Rowe thumped her fist against the console. "Jump failed, Captain! There's a gravimetric disturbance at the jump site. Possibly another ship, possibly a gravity mine. The jump drive's gone into safe mode to prevent melting itself into slag and ripping the ship to pieces. We're still in the Sol system."

" _Safe mode_?" Liao echoed Rowe's comment incredulously, her tone laced with confusion. As she spoke, the artificial gravity slowly came back, the operations crew gradually floating back down to the metal of the deck. "What the hell does that mean?"

Rowe gave another of her trademark derisive snorts, much to Liao's chagrin. "It means that instead of tearing us apart by jumping into an occupied location, the system cancelled the jump. It's blown out its capacitors and massively overheated, however, so we won't be able to jump for some time."

Liao gripped her command console so tightly her fingers hurt. "How long is 'some time', Rowe? Specifics, please."

The redhead shrugged helplessly. "A few hours, best-case scenario. More realistically, half a day. We'll have to wait until the jump drive cools, and then we can begin the work, which is pretty laborious in and of itself, and—"

"No. _Unacceptable_. I need that jump drive _now_ , Rowe, so we can try again—so we can jump to another jump point within the Hades system and then rally with the _Tehran_ at sub-light—"

Rowe gave a barking laugh. "I'm sorry _reality_ is unacceptable, Captain, but this isn't some fucking science fiction story where you can just invert the polarity and fix something. And I'm not Montgomery-fucking-Scott. The jump drive is sitting pretty at nearly six _hundred_ degrees Celsius, and it'll take hours to radiate all that heat out. Now, normally, changing the capacitors takes thirty seconds _each,_ and there are twelve, so six minutes to change. However, we'll have to shut down the drive completely to try to get that heat away from the core as fast as possible, so we'll be approaching this from a cold start. Takes five minutes per unit, so right on an hour, and _then_ we have to go through the jump preparation all over again."

Liao felt helpless anger building up within her. She turned to Hsin. "Signal the TFR _Sydney_. I want to speak to Captain Knight. Tell him to charge his jump drive. We're going to send the _Sydney_ in as a rescue mission. Their jump drive should still be functional and—"

"—Has been plagued with problems since her launch, Captain." Iraj stepped up to her again, once again keeping his voice low. "As have most of her systems. The whole reason _we're_ here is because they're not combat ready, remember? Besides, what's to say that they won't just encounter the same problem and blow out their jump drive too?"

The man put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Captain. You know there's nothing we can do but wait now."

Melissa was quiet for a moment, and then she just gave a small nod.

_Later_

The minutes turned to hours. Fleet Command had requested a debriefing; Liao had Mister Hsin send through a terse message that, since the _Tehran_ had not yet returned, the operation was not complete, so no debriefing could take place. Fleet Command had sent back a response, but Liao had not bothered to read it. She could guess what they would say anyway.

Liao did not leave the operations room except for a brief excursion to the head. There, once away from prying eyes and the demanding gazes of her crew, she resisted, somehow, the urge to vomit all over her shoes. Nausea came in waves as if her stomach were being punched and kicked from the inside. She knew it was stress—worry for the missing ship, worry for its missing captain. Ghostly images, fears both rational and irrational, danced through her head, each more brutal and horrid than the last.

She could not shake the mental image of the _Tehran_ floating in space, her back broken in two, her hull smashed open like an egg under a mallet. And just like an egg, the white atmosphere would pour into the void, followed soon after by the soundless stream of human yolk, sucked out into space to asphyxiate and die. She saw, in her mind's eye, the faces of Grégoire's crew facing an ignoble death in the orbit of a dying star millions of light years away from their homes and friends with nobody to mourn them. The families of the crew would have no graves to visit or bodies to bury, their frozen loved ones floating forever through the frigid ink-black emptiness until pulled in by the tiny but inexorable pull of the dead star's gravity well and—

The thought was too much for her. She had skipped dinner, so Liao was suddenly reduced to dry heaving over the steel toilet bowl, coughing up saliva and bile. Soon the hacking and wrenching was punctuated with quiet sobs. The sounds were her only companion as her grief finally made itself known.

They _had_ to go back.

Liao used the hand towels in the bathroom to clean herself up, glad there appeared to be no residue on her uniform aside from a few spots, which she quickly cleaned up with a dry hand towel. She washed her hands several times, gulped down mouthfuls of freezing cold water, touched up the small amount of makeup she was wearing in the small mirror, and then stepped back out to confront the crew.

She half expected Iraj or Jiang to be waiting outside the head for her with another of their endless reports, but it seemed as though fate was prepared to grant her at least one small mercy this time. Her walk back to operations was solitary, although when she arrived, she found that the room was a hive of activity.

"Mister Iraj, status report."

Iraj turned to face her. "Captain, we just detected a jump-in at the L2 Lagrange point."

A jump-in! Melissa's heart leaped, her eyes widening. "Good news or bad? Is it our people?"

Iraj looked as though he desperately wanted to give good news but instead gestured to Hsin. "Communications is trying to raise the ship, Captain, but we haven't heard a reply to our hails on any frequency. That said, they haven't made any aggressive moves, nor have they made any transmissions of their own that we can detect. Yet."

Liao realized she'd been holding her breath. She slowly let it out, closed her eyes a moment and, steadying herself, opened them again. "So... a little from column A, and a little from column B."

"That pretty much sums it up, yes."

Liao crossed the floor of the operations room, moving over to the communications console. She leaned over Hsin's shoulder and examined his readings.

"What about signals in other bands of the electromagnetic spectrum? Anything on thermals?"

Hsin craned his neck, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Too far away to see anything of interest on thermals, Captain. Way out of range to get anything more than a blob. The resolution on these things just isn't as high as our radar."

Lieutenant Ling called to Liao. "Captain, we're detecting an active radar signal from the unidentified vessel. They appear to be targeting us... intermittently."

Liao clenched her fists. This was strange behaviour for a friendly ship, but it might be something the Toralii would do if they were trying to paint them as a target.

Something nagged at her, though.

"Intermittently?"

"Yes, ma'am. On and off, then on again, then off... but not a steady pulse as a sweep would be. Maybe they're damaged."

Liao frowned. She moved over to Ling's console, taking in the readings from the passive sensors he was using to observe the unknown ship's signal. "That doesn't make _any_ sense. Normally, attempts to scan for targeting information or obtain range should be regular and rhythmic." She pointed to the screen. "This is anything but."

Rowe slipped over to Ling's console. "Lemme see."

Liao, unable to learn anything more, stepped aside and let Rowe take a look.

"There's a pattern," Rowe announced almost instantly, "with the radar pulses. It's not intermittent. Or rather... it is, but it's not random. It's _repeating_. See that? Long, short, short, long."

Liao's eyes widened. "It's Morse code!" She snatched up a notepad and pencil, scribbling down the signal.

When it was almost done, she dropped the pencil with a small gasp. She knew the word even before it was finished.

P-E-A-R-L-S

Chapter XII

****

Salvation

_*****_

_Docking Umbilical_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Three days later_

THE HATCHWAY'S SEAL COMPLETED, THE _Beijing_ 's docking umbilical forming an airtight link with a soft hiss. Liao, Cheung, Rowe, Saeed, and a whole team of marines stood by the doorway, ready to rush across the boarding platform and render whatever assistance they could. It had been a long three-day journey to the Lagrange point the _Tehran_ had arrived at... and Liao had spent most of the time trying to determine what state the _Tehran_ was in and how they could assist.

And worrying. Liao had done her fair share of that.

There had still been no word from the _Tehran_ aside from the repeated radar signal. However, as the _Beijing_ had approached their sister ship, their own eyes had seen the story of what had happened better than words could tell.

The _Tehran's_ hull was visibly pockmarked with deep gouges and craters, the armoured plates of its hull broken and warped from the pounding of enemy weapons. Many of her cooling fins were holed or broken off entirely, and there were many significant structural breaches, places where the _Beijing_ 's crew, via long-range optics, had observed ominous gaps in the hull. Some were the size of a man's fist; others were larger than a car.

Most alarming, however, was the huge amount of damage done to the stern of the vessel. A giant crescent had cut away almost twenty cubic metres of material, like curved scissors through cloth; a huge chunk of the ship was simply scooped away as though by some huge blade. Only the thick titanium beams of her superstructure remained, like the exposed bones of a rotting carcass.

Aside from the blackened, charred, and partially melted superstructure beams, the cut was fairly clean. The damage was fifty metres from the reactor cores, a fact Liao was extraordinarily thankful for. Whatever had hit the _Tehran_ , if it had been even slightly more on target, there would in all likelihood be nothing left at all.

The sharp optics on the _Beijing_ revealed more than Liao wanted to know. She knew that the _Tehran_ had suffered extensively in the time before it was able to jump back, but at the same time, her prime, burning question had not been answered.

Where was Grégoire?

He had been alive at one point; that much was obvious since the radar was "transmitting" a signal only she could understand. But had this been his dying command? Or perhaps a fail-safe he had entrusted to his first officer, Commander Farah Sabeen?

Based on Rowe's analysis of the _Tehran_ 's battle damage, it was anticipated that the ship's computers, long-range radios, and short-range radios, along with their entire radar system, would be basically fried or, at the very least, operating at dramatically reduced efficiency.

Given the extensive damage seeming to affect every system, Liao was surprised the ship had been able to jump back at all.

The airlock swung open. Liao and her marines found themselves staring down the barrels of a dozen exhausted-looking marines from the _Tehran_ who, thankfully, quickly lowered their rifles.

"Commander Liao, TFR _Beijing_. Permission to come aboard?" She glanced between the fatigued faces who stared at her from across the gulf of the docking umbilical. She hoped to spot Grégoire's dark face amongst the Iranians, but it was Commander Sabeen—wounded, her green head-scarf stained with sweat and three-day-old blood—who limped forward, favouring her left leg, and extended her heavily bandaged right hand.

"Permission granted, Commander. Welcome aboard the _Tehran_..." The Iranian woman gave a sardonic grin, gesturing at the debris-strewn corridor with her left hand, the right extended towards Liao. "At least, what's left of her."

Liao took Sabeen's hand and squeezed it very gently, but even this light touch sent a visible wince over her features. "It's good to be here."

Sabeen gave a relieved chuckle, her smile a thousand miles wide. "We're very glad to see you."

Liao ended the handshake and retracted her hand, subtly wiping the blood off on her pants. She turned and nodded to her crew; almost immediately, marines, doctors, and engineers rushed through the cramped docking umbilical. To clear the room and make way for the surge of assistance coming from the _Beijing_ , Liao and Sabeen stepped into the corridor, casually stepping over fallen debris as they did so. The lighting was poor, and Liao had to constantly watch her footing.

"The feeling is mutual, believe me, Commander Sabeen. When you didn't jump back with us, we thought you hadn't made it. What happened?"

Sabeen glanced towards Liao, casually stepping over a pile of exposed wires, her expression grave. "We almost _didn't_. Although things started out well, pretty rapidly the Toralii picked up their game and knocked out our rail guns. Not wanting to push our luck, we recalled our strike fighters and moved out of the jump point to try to evade their fire while we waited for them, but then we received your signal to withdraw. We began moving back into the point, but as we got close—still charging our jump drive, mind you—a Toralii scout ship appeared right in the middle of the point just as we were about to enter it."

Liao nodded. "So you couldn't jump because there was already a ship there."

Sabeen grinned crookedly, stepping over a hunk of dislodged bulkhead. "Correct. We nearly smashed right into it, but some clever piloting got us out of the way. When we were clear, we nuked the hell out of it, of course, but the debris was still in one large hunk of metal, so we _still_ couldn't jump. At that point, we could see way, _way_ too many Toralii long-range missiles coming in, so we knew we were short on time, and we didn't have many options left."

"Sounds dire. What did you do?"

Sabeen had to stop her story to give some instructions to one of the engineers from the _Beijing_ , and then she and Liao resumed walking. "I ordered the ship to about-face and steam away at sub-light to the nearest jump point... which, as you know, was some distance away. We used the point-defence cannons to shoot down the incoming missiles as best we could, but those bastards are tenacious. No matter how many we hit, they just kept shooting right up until we limped into the Lagrange point."

"And then you jumped?"

Farah shook her head. "We were going to, but the lead ship, the biggest one, let loose with this _thing_... a wave of light so bright and so hot it overloaded our thermal sensors. The whole ship shook, and engineering tells me they sliced a nice little piece out of my girl's hide. You probably saw that giant hole on the way in."

"We did, yes. One of our engineers, Rowe, had a theory that it was the same weapon that the Toralii used to bombard Earth with."

Sabeen flashed a wide grin. "We've been thinking the same, actually." She paused a moment to step over some debris. "So, we very nearly didn't make it out. The Toralii were pretty far away when they fired that thing. If they'd used it sooner, we would have been toast. We jumped before they got a chance to fire again."

Liao was heartened by her use of the term _we_ , figuring the first officer was speaking of James, but quickly realized her turn of phrase was not itself confirmation of his survival. The first officer was referring to the ship and crew as a whole.

So, steeling herself, Liao took a breath and asked the million-dollar question. "How is J—the captain?"

A shadow fell across Farah's face, and Liao felt a clenching in her chest.

"Well, I _honestly_ can't say. He received a severe concussion when the Toralii fired their energy weapon at us. The weapon sent a huge shudder through the ship, and he cracked his head on the jump console. Blood everywhere, I've never seen anything like it. I had him stretchered out as we were making our run for the jump point. He was admitted three days ago, and to be honest, I just haven't had time to check in on him. Between the jump, our reactors nearly overloading, severe decompressions scattered across all decks, the irradiation of our food and perishables when reactor four broke containment... we've been living from crisis to crisis. I haven't slept since the battle."

Liao nodded. "I know the feeling. We're here now, though, and we're going to render whatever assistance we can. And that leads me to my next point." She straightened her back, giving the other woman a determined look. "With James out of action, the _Tehran_ needs her commanding officer, which at this point is _you_... and all COs need their rest." She put a hand on the Persian woman's shoulder and gave a comradely squeeze. "Our lead engineer will direct the repair teams and take over for your boys, who no doubt will need some rack time as well. There's nothing more you can do here, so go get some shut-eye before I get my doctor to _order_ you to."

Sabeen seemed, for a moment, to be ready to fight Liao's suggestion but then just gave a tired salute, grinning impishly despite it all. "Doctor's orders, huh? How could I refuse?"

Liao walked the exhausted woman to the _Tehran_ 's first officer's quarters, only to find upon arrival that they had been breached during the fighting and had decompressed. A ragged-looking engineer, his face smeared with grease and thick bags under his eyes, informed them that the contents of the room were gone; every possession smaller than a basketball had almost certainly been sucked out of the breach and was at this moment floating in space somewhere near the solar L4 point in the Hades system. That, or being picked over for intelligence by the Toralii survivors.

So rather than bother the extraordinarily overworked chief of operations for new quarters, Liao simply gave her permission to use Grégoire's. After all, Liao mused, the man was still in the infirmary, and Liao was not about to let him get back to those quarters any time soon. The moment he was well enough to move, she was going to drag him back to the _Beijing_ to "recover."

With the _Tehran_ 's first officer safely tucked into bed, the memories of her last argument with James—and the termination of their "arrangement"—weighed heavily on Liao's conscience. For a moment, she almost reconsidered even seeing him, but that was a passing weakness; she forced down those thoughts as she walked towards the _Tehran_ 's infirmary. Yes, she had broken it off with him, and yes she was still angry at him for the way he had interfered with her career, interfered with her judgement, and compromised his own tactical reasoning because of her. And she told herself, over and over, that it would take more than one of his infamous post-playtime back rubs to make things completely better in that regard.

But the thought of losing James permanently significantly outweighed the anger she felt at his noble but misguided gesture. He had merely been attempting to do the right thing by her, and while she despised this kind of interference in her life, she understood why he had done it. After all, in the aftermath of the battle, she had tried to jump back to save James. And while Iraj eventually agreed with her assessment, she knew in her heart that she had done the right thing but for the wrong reasons.

As her boots clicked along the hallway, she tried over and over to convince herself that this was only a temporary lack of judgement and that she would not make the same mistake again.

Stopping outside the infirmary, Liao mulled over her course of action. She would have to talk to Grégoire, yes, but she should have a plan. She spent some time playing through the various hypothetical possibilities until she settled on one she found appealing. She decided that she would appear initially professional but a little angry and then, after a small amount of time had passed, would broach the subject of forgiveness... which she would make him earn. Her dignity would be satisfied. Her point, that both she and Grégoire had to keep their professionalism despite everything, would come across loud and clear, and they could resume where they had left off.

But the moment she stepped into the sickbay and saw James lying flat on a surgical bed, the plan she'd carefully formulated in her mind flew away like a flock of chickens bursting free of an open coop.

"James?"

She fought hard to keep her emotions in check, but it was basically useless; already she could feel thin trails of tears spilling down her cheeks, tumbling towards her chin like little raindrops. Unable to keep her fingers from trembling, Melissa reached out for his hand, taking it and squeezing.

His forehead was bandaged, and it was clear from the dull, dopey look in his eyes that he was heavily medicated. He turned towards her, cracking a smile and blinking groggily.

"We-e-ell, now... heh. Now I _know_ I'm dead because there's an angel by my bed poised to take me away."

Melissa gave a childish, happy snort, her lips curling up in a relieved smile. She casually dabbed her cheeks with her sleeve to dry them. "I thought you didn't believe in God."

"Well, I certainly didn't before, but I'm very glad to see you. Regarding the presence or absence of divine beings who may or may not watch over us and protect us, after that last battle, I might change my mind. Only divine intervention could have gotten us out of _that_ mess."

She gave a relieved sigh, even managing the beginnings of a playful chuckle despite the tears trickling down her face. "Well, it's good to see that at least your sense of humour managed to make it back to the jump point with the rest of you." A light smile formed on her face, and Liao let it play over her lips for a bit. "Additionally, despite any angelic qualities I may possess, and despite the fact that I may, on occasion, have made you shout 'Oh God!' I'm _no_ angel."

"No angel, huh? Well... I dunno. See, I have a theory that heaven is meant to be a paradise. However, it wouldn't be a paradise if you _weren't_ there with me. So, well, no matter what _you_ do, you're coming along with me when I croak. Although," the man gestured towards her hip, "I kind of expected a 'naughty schoolgirl' uniform, or cheerleader's outfit, or maybe something in black with a riding crop."

"Well, if things aren't perfect for you, maybe this isn't a paradise after all. Maybe you're in hell, and I'm here to torture you."

James chuckled, closing his eyes for a moment and slowly shaking his head. "Well, you'd just have a bigger riding crop if that were the case. But to be honest... I'm not sure if that's as terrible as I make it out to be. Maybe I might _like_ that. Riding crop, huh?"

She repressed an extremely inappropriate giggle, instead choosing to dab at her cheeks and the corners of her eyes again. "I'll remember that. Next resupply run, I promise. I'll slip something into the CO2 scrubbers."

There was a long silence broken only by the soft beeping of various machines as the two regarded each other, saying nothing, her hand holding his. The two enjoyed a moment in time where words were mutually, silently, declared unnecessary.

When finally it ended, Melissa struggled to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Dammit, James, I thought you'd gone and gotten yourself killed back there. You fucking _dick_. Do you know how frightened I was?"

He smiled warmly, squeezing the woman's hand. "Oh, don't worry. _I_ thought I was fucked too, especially when Sabeen had me stretchered away. But it turns out we made it after all. I was wrong." His smile faded, although the pressure on her hand did not. "I've been wrong about a _few_ things lately."

She shook her head, firmly and resolutely, her fingers gripping his and returning the squeeze in earnest. "James... don't. Just don't say it. You don't need to—"

"No, it's important. It's important to _me_. I'm sorry I tried to... interfere with your career. I know, I know... well intentioned and all, but those are the pavings on the road to hell. I mean... I know that... well, at least, I _imagine_ that... that you've had it a little rough in the love and romance department. You must have had it up to your neck with people fawning over you, doing you favours... sycophants, suck-ups, and arse-kissers everywhere you turn. I know that the situation in China for pretty, smart, upwardly mobile young women is one part awesome, one part terrifying, but _believe_ me... it was never my intention to hurt you or to offend you in any wa—"

Melissa leaned down and put her lips to his, closing her eyes and cutting off the words she didn't need to hear. It was some time before their lips finally parted. When she finally, after some time, broke the kiss, she straightened her back and brushed down her uniform. A glance around sickbay revealed a small group of doctors and nurses clustered around their patients or burying their noses in their charts, all trying their best—with limited success—to pretend they hadn't seen anything.

"That part of my life is well behind me." She grinned impishly. "I'm into my thirties now, James. I'm not exactly _young_ any more."

The man snickered. "You're only as young as the person you're _feeling_."

She grinned in return. "You're _fifty_ , so if I'm feeling you, that means I'm fifty too. Don't drag me down with you, old man."

The two exchanged a short laugh, and when it faded, silence once again reigned between them, a moment or two of blissful quiet.

Melissa casually wiped her mouth. "You taste like hospital, by the way. _Blech_."

"And you taste as though you just threw up." He gave an apologetic, sheepish grin. "Sorry, it's true."

She closed her eyes a moment. "I know. Um, actually, that's because I _did_ , right before I came on board. I... I thought I'd lost you. And before that, ever since our fight, I've been sick with worry." She paused. "I mean, _literally_ sick, like... I can't hold down my food, I can't sleep, I can't... I can't get you out of my _head_. You're stuck in my every thought."

She opened her eyes again, looking down at him once more. "I was so angry over what happened, but now... now I'm just relieved. I thought that I'd lost you for good, that you might have just _died_ over there in that place or worse, never come back at all, so nobody would know what happened to you. So... so _I'd_ never know."

She leaned down and kissed him again, giving a reassuring squeeze of his hand, mildly apathetic about who might be watching. "But enough of this, okay? You just get better." She lowered her voice to a whisper, just barely loud enough for the two of them alone. "Because I _really_ need to give you a _full body_ debriefing."

James flashed a playful wink. "As soon as I'm able to walk properly, I'll be sure to render _you_ unable to walk properly."

Melissa gave his abdomen a playful pat. "That's the spirit."

_Engineering Bay Two_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Two days later_

The raid against the Toralii resupply station complete, Liao and the crew moved on to the next part of their mission. The _Tehran_ had returned, and the two ships were slowly limping back to the lunar drydock. Rowe called Liao to the engineering bay to inspect the progress she had made—progress towards what, Liao was not entirely certain.

It was with a mix of curiosity and confusion that Liao looked over the reassembled Forerunner. She gave it what she _hoped_ was a thoughtful, appraising eye, but truth be told, she had absolutely no idea if Rowe's engineering team had put the probe back together again correctly or not. At this point, she was operating on blind faith—a condition she strongly disapproved of as a command style and one that she sought to avoid wherever possible.

That said, Liao knew that life sometimes force-fed you a shit sandwich. When it did, there was nothing you could do but bite down, tell yourself that it tasted great, and hope your stupid friend hadn't ordered you seconds.

She turned to Rowe with her hands on her hips and did her best to make a critical analysis of the work. "It looks good," she offered, drawing a derisive and dismissive snort from Rowe.

"As if you could tell," she pointed out, gesturing towards the fully reassembled probe. "We had all the engineers we could spare—pretty much anyone I could bribe, coerce or tear away from the _Tehran—_ piece this fucking thing back together. But I gotta tell you the truth; there's no way we'll know if it'll just explode, let alone function as intended, when we throw the switch. I mean, we did our best. We tested each piece separately, except for the jump drive of course, but there's no telling how it'll go when we stick them all together... or _not_ go, which frankly is just as likely. Whole fucking thing could blow like New Year's Day on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and while that would be totally awesome to watch, it'd kinda put a dent in your plan."

Liao frowned. When they had disassembled the probe to learn its secrets, they had given absolutely no thought to putting it back together again. So when Rowe announced that she was going to reassemble it, Liao had anticipated a great deal of problems and that it would take a great deal of time and effort, and there would be risk.

She knew Rowe had a penchant for the dramatic, so she put her words through the "Summer Filter." There was a risk that the device wouldn't function. There was a risk it would explode. Further, due to the fact that they were experimenting with technology literally alien to them, there was not a great deal they could do to mitigate this risk.

Still, the very fact that Rowe had been able to do such a complete job on the device, even if it didn't work as planned, was nothing short of extraordinary. There were no plans, no backups, and no prototype; they had no points of reference with which to work. But somehow... it was there. The woman, for all her flaws, for all her arrogance, really _was_ a genius.

Now if only the damn thing would work.

"Is there any way we can test it more completely before we have to deploy it?"

Rowe shook her head. "Nope. Not without activating its jump drive within a jump point." She grinned impishly. "I mean, hey, if you were feeling fucking _suicidal_ , you could probably position the ship within a jump point, turn off the artificial gravity, and then jump the bitch. But you almost _certainly_ won't want to do that. Originally, I thought, 'Well, it _should_ be okay.' I figured that since the mass of the probe is currently displacing a fair amount of air in here, if it jumps, that void will want to be filled... but, well, it was only when I started to factor in some other things... displacement of air's not the problem."

Liao nodded. "Okay. What _is_ the problem then?"

"Well, I don't know if I mentioned it or not, but the jump drive emits a small concussive wave when it's activated. Normally, since this is happening in space, it's just not something we ever really consider. But if we activated it _inside_ another ship? Well, hey. You don't have to be a red-headed, sexy super-genius to realize that the contained force of even a small concussive blast appearing right here in the engineering bay, in a contained space... well, it would probably tear the whole room to pieces. If we were _lucky_."

"You didn't tell me that." Liao folded her arms. "I didn't realize the jump drive had that effect."

"Well, if I told you everything I knew, you wouldn't need me anymore. Besides, there are a _lot_ of side effects and weird technology going on with this junk, and really, there's just too much to explain in one lifetime. Just trust me when I say it's a bad idea to test it that way."

"Don't worry, I have no plans to jump _anything_ from the inside of my ship."

Rowe nodded. "Great. Fucking _fantastic_. Keep it that way because, you know, if you fuck up the engineering bay, I'll be so mad. You have _no_ idea. All my best toys are in here." A pause. "Except for Alex. He's off spray-painting kill-markers on the hull of his fighter after the last expedition. He got four of them, and he's so pissed—you need _five_ to be an ace."

Liao rolled her eyes at Rowe's continued rambling. "I'll try __ to keep that in mind."

With the necessary information extracted from Rowe, Liao had other things to do. She gave Rowe a polite farewell—which was not returned—and walked over to where she saw Saara typing methodically on one of the computer terminals Rowe had set up. Liao was glad to see they were being used for something scientific rather than the video games she occasionally spotted Rowe playing on them.

"Saara?"

The Toralii glanced over her shoulder, giving her friend a firm nod.

["Good evening, Captain Liao."]

Melissa returned the nod. "Evening. How goes the effort to access the Forerunner's systems? Got anything useful for us?"

Unexpectedly, Saara nodded her head. ["Actually, Captain, I do. I have successfully accessed the ship's command log. At your discretion, we can examine this probe's record of commands and see the last instructions the device would have received from the Toralii Alliance... from the vessel which you spoke to earlier."]

Liao gave a pleased nod, folding her hands behind her back. "Excellent work, Saara. Please liaise with Rowe and see what you can find out. Give me your report as soon as you're ready."

["Of course, Captain Liao."]

With the work in the engineering bay complete, Liao stepped outside and made her way to her quarters. She was undressing and looking forward to a captain's impossible dream—a few hours' sleep without any interruptions—when the radio set on her desk crackled, calling her name. With a sigh that held just the tiniest edge of frustration, she strode over to it and pressed the talk key.

"Liao here."

"We've completed the last of the work on the Forerunner." The voice belonged to one of the junior engineers, Lieutenant Xi.

Liao nodded, despite the lieutenant being completely unable to see the action, and then held the key again. "Very well done, Lieutenant; pass along my congratulations to the whole engineering team. Additionally, please inform the operations room of your progress and ensure that the _Sydney_ and the _Tehran_ are completely informed about what we're doing. We need to make sure that they know what we know."

"Aye aye, Captain."

With what she hoped would be her final task completed, Captain Liao stripped down to her underwear and fell onto her bed. The stress and worry of the last few weeks had taken its toll; she had found herself sleeping more, her appetite changing, and her body experiencing the occasional discomfort. The nausea had come and gone, but with James and his ship returned to her, things were finally returning to the insanity, the chaos that in her life passed as "normal."

Mostly that was Rowe's fault.

Liao desperately needed a full night's sleep, but tonight this treat would be denied to her much as it had been denied to seafaring captains as long as there were sailing ships. The burdens of command were always high, and although the armed forces of all modern nations had done wonders to streamline the process, the chain of command meant that the buck ultimately stopped with the ship's commanding officer. She was, in a very real sense, never off duty.

The big briefing was tomorrow. They were unveiling their plan and, ideally, putting Rowe's work on the Forerunner to use... that or blowing the device to smithereens if Rowe had made even one mistake.

It was with these thoughts playing through her head that she eventually fell into a restless, haunted sleep.

Act V

Chapter XIII

****

Hearts of Steel

_*****_

_Infirmary_

_TFR_ Tehran

_Two days later_

MELISSA LOVED HOW PLEASED JAMES looked to see her as she stepped up to his bed, reaching out and wrapping her hand around his. He was improving by the day, and the _Tehran_ 's chief medical officer, a head-scarved woman with a small scar on her chin, had indicated a possibility James would be discharged within the next day or two and then left the two of them alone. This news had put Melissa into an impossibly good mood that, despite the gravity of the operation they were about to embark upon, refused to fade.

She squeezed his hand affectionately, grinning down at him. "So, old man, I heard you were going to be discharged today."

"Old man?" James coughed, shaking his head and grinning back up at her. "Really? Is that all you came here to do, _torture_ a sick captain by calling him _old_?"

"But you _are_ old," she playfully teased, squeezing his hand again. "It's just the truth of the matter. There's no offence intended, of course, but the facts regarding your exact age—or, at least, the age you _appear—_ can't be denied."

"Well, _excuse_ me, Commander, but I think you'll find being a captain gives you certain... _privileges_ that give me an edge in this particular situation. More specifically, that the captain's age is both whatever I say it is and also none of anyone's business, especially not rival commanding officers with tight buns and a penchant for hogging all the glory."

She felt his dark hand grasp her backside. With a swift glance around the infirmary to make sure that nobody was watching, she shuffled closer and permitted the hand to remain there for the moment.

"Mmm. Hogging all the glory, huh?" She leaned over his bed, casually resting her elbows on his chest. "So that's what I am—the villainous evil-and-sexy CO, rival to the plucky hero, who lives for snatching rightfully earned triumphs from the crew of the _Tehran_?"

"I don't know if I'd call myself _plucky_ exactly"—James trailed his fingers up Liao's back—"but you do seem to enjoy cavorting around space doing all the important stuff while the _Sydney_ gets mine-laying duty."

" _You_ gave the _Sydney_ that 'important mission,' remember"—Melissa stifled a gentle yawn— "and as you said yourself, her systems still aren't working right. She'll get her turn; we both know that." She grinned. "And _anyway_ , what are you whining about? The _Tehran_ got a lot more action in the Hades engagement than the _Beijing_ did and almost certainly destroyed a whole lot more enemy tonnage than we got to. It's like Operation _New Dawn_ all over again."

"We also nearly _died_ ," he reminded her, his hand wandering up her body and reaching the back of her head, his fingers running gently through her hair. "And my ship was heavily damaged." There was a pause as he considered his next words, but Melissa pre-empted his questions with a gentle sigh.

"The repairs are coming along well," she answered to his unspoken question, "and there's some even _better_ news. The first detailed engineering analysis is complete. The ship's superstructure appears mostly intact except where the strange energy beam hit it. Fortunately, they're clean cuts, so it's simply a case of rebuilding the hull around that area and then adding the hull plates and the internal systems like power, electrical, air. Then a little stress test, and she'll be ready to fight again."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What about the damaged hull sections? We lost the majority of our forward hull to those damn Toralii weapons."

She nodded, gently kissing his chest right above the sternum. "The damaged sections have already been unbolted and are currently being replaced. Your girl's basically stark naked at the moment, captain."

James snickered at that. "And your boy is just watching on." He regarded her, gently rubbing the back of her head again. "You know, I think he might be a bit of a pervert."

Laughing, Melissa slapped his side, which caused him to groan in pain. "Hey, you can make fun of me all you like, but don't talk shit about my _ship_." She straightened her back, putting her nose in the air indignantly. "He's a good boy, and he loves his mother. He would never peek."

"Unlike his captain."

"That would depend upon the viewing pleasure presented to her," she retorted, her hands slowly slipping under his hospital gown, "and on the number of days she'd been without her special little plaything."

"Is that what you call it now?" He squirmed on his bed, closing his eyes as she began idly toying with him.

"Oh, I have a few names for it all picked out."

He chortled. "You're naming my _penis_?"

Her hand continued its work. "Well, yes, of _course_ I am. If something's going to do all the thinking for you, that thing should at least have a _name_."

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind filling me in on—mmm—what you were thinking... just so, you know, I can veto anything _particularly_ embarrassing... or degrading."

Melissa's tone was soft and sly. She rubbed her thumb in slow circles. "Ooh, well, something Chinese, perhaps... so that you don't know the meaning, or so I can make a dirty joke. Something like Kang or Feng. Or Zhou, or... or _Long_ , or—"

"Uh, Captain Liao?"

With a start, Liao yanked her hand out from under Grégoire's hospital gown, pulling both hands against her side and spinning around. The _Tehran_ 's chief medical officer—a woman whose name Liao did not know—stood close by, her hands clutching a clipboard remarkably tightly. Her eyes flicked down to Liao's fingers, and Liao knew she'd been spotted.

Obviously doing her best to remain professional, Liao regarded the doctor and stiffly folded her hands in front of her.

"Doctor, I... wasn't expecting you here. I thought your shift was over."

"It was, but... uh, I realized that I had left... my notes... back in sickbay." She held up the clipboard demonstrably. "I can't organize my life to save... to uh, to save my life, so I write things down—notes to myself, really—on my work clipboard and then review them after my shift is done. It helps; it actually does help, so... um, yes." An awkward silence hung in the air, and the woman floundered. "A-anyway, uh, while I'm here, I figured I'd also just adjust James's medication slightly; I had planned to yesterday, but things got _out of hand_." A pause. "I mean, wait, not like that!"

Liao nodded. "Right, right. I see. Well... don't let me distract you. Proceed." There was an awkward pause as the _Beijing_ 's captain felt as though she was out of place. "Can I lend you a hand?"

It was only after the words left her mouth that Liao realized exactly what she'd said. The doctor's eyes went wide.

"I... That is _not_ necessary, Commander Liao, believe me, I—"

"Uh, no, no, no! Of course not, Doctor—"

"I'm not... I don't... I'm not interested in women in that way, Captain, so—"

"Oh, I didn't mean—of course not—"

"No, absolutely not, no, no... no."

"No."

They stood there awkwardly for a moment and then Liao motioned towards Grégoire's IV. "The... um. The medication, Doctor."

"Oh! R-Right."

The woman shuffled forward, checked the levels on the IV, and then switched out the active fluid bags with one on standby. With the task complete, she gave Grégoire and Liao nothing more than a very quick, very embarrassed glance each and then beat the fastest retreat out of the infirmary that Liao had ever seen.

With a low sigh, Melissa put her face into her palm. "Great. Just... just _great_. I blame you for this, just so you know."

James chuckled. "Okay, so she says, 'things got out of hand,' and then you offer to 'lend her a hand'... _Really_? You both _really_ just said that by accident?"

"Apparently so." She turned back towards him, hands on her hips again. "So, yeah. The sooner you're discharged, the sooner I can fondle you in private."

"I couldn't agree more." There was a pause as he considered his next words. "So... the arrangement's still on, then?"

Liao's smile gave him her answer.

_Conference Room Two_

_TFR_ Beijing

_A week later_

"And so, on the _Tehran_ , the final death toll was sixty-two casualties, including four strike craft pilots, nineteen engineers, eight marines, one civilian contractor, and thirty crewmen who died when the port rail gun chamber exploded."

The debriefing, conducted for the mutual benefit of both crews, was led by Captain James Grégoire, who had been quietly discharged from the medical bay a day after Liao's visit.

While the captain of the _Tehran_ was recovering quite well, particularly under the ministrations of Commander Liao, his ship had not been so lucky. The _Tehran_ would require a full month in the lunar dry dock to repair all the damage, and there was some speculation that, due to the damage to the superstructure, the ship would never be quite the same.

Grégoire would not hear of that talk, however, and stubbornly declared that, instead, the ship would be repaired _better_ and _stronger_ than it previously had been; he ordered the damaged areas reinforced and up-armoured, so that the ship's obvious weak points would be better protected in future engagements. The engineers on the _Sydney_ and the _Beijing_ had, somewhat begrudgingly, accepted his conclusion and mimicked the changes on their own ships as best they could.

"This coming Thursday, a non-denominational memorial service will be held for those who perished, and Doctor Mahmud would like to remind everyone that his door is always open for grief and loss counselling. We've been through a tough time, as a crew and as a family, and there's no shame in admitting that." James smiled reassuringly to the combined senior staff of both ships. "I'll be visiting him _myself_ , so I expect all my senior staff to at least make a quick appointment."

Liao nodded her agreement. "And for the _Beijing_ senior staff and crew, I expect the same. Although we mourn the loss of those who have passed, we also look to the future; grief and distraction in the light of so much loss is a normal, expected part of the service, but it must be only a temporary condition. The Toralii are out there, and while the _Sydney_ has completed her mission with the last of the high-energy gravity mines, we can't rely on these simple tricks to keep them at bay forever."

Liao tapped her remote, scrolling the large monitor to the next screen. "But before __ we discuss our next course of action, I'd like to give everyone here a full debriefing of the _Tehran_ 's mission after contact was lost in the Hades system."

The senior staff of the _Beijing_ leaned forward expectantly. No official statement had been made and, accordingly, the rumour mill aboard ship had been spinning in overdrive since the great battle. Everyone in the _Beijing_ 's crew was clamouring for a recounting of what _really_ happened. Although the interval between the battle and the briefing had been only two weeks, for the crew it seemed more like two months.

Jointly presented by Liao and Grégoire, the debriefing was detailed and complete, reiterating more or less the story Sabeen had told Liao earlier, with the senior staff of the _Beijing_ hanging on every word.

"...Then Commander Sabeen jumped the ship. The rest you all know."

There was a brief pause as the story was digested. When the silence abated, Saara spoke again, and although the majority of the senior staff from both ships had at least _some_ experience with her remarkably easy-to-learn language by now, the repair operation on the _Tehran_ had taken up all of their energy and time. Liao did not begrudge their inattentiveness to their studies of Saara's dialect and nodded as Lieutenant Yu dutifully translated for her.

"Saara wants to remind us that, while the strike on the Hades system was decisive to the Toralii Alliance, they are unlikely to take this obvious aggression lying down. The question is not _if_ they will respond in force but _when_."

Liao nodded her head in agreement. "Couldn't have said it better myself." She clicked her remote, scrolling the floor-to-ceiling monitor of the conference room across to a new image, one that bore a close-up image of the planet Mars and her moons.

"The strike on the Hades system taught us that we can beat the Toralii Alliance if we attack when we have the advantage. While we may have given them a bloody nose and also given them cause to stay away from us for the moment, these are temporary measures. We can't hope to simply mine our system and pray they don't find a way past it in force."

Liao pointed to the image of Mars on the monitor. "So, instead, we're going to make a stand here, near Mars."

Grégoire nodded his agreement. "This comes directly from Fleet Command, ladies and gentlemen. This is the _big_ one. Intelligence believes that if we once more give the Toralii Alliance something to think about, we may be able to find a more permanent solution, either a military one or a diplomatic one. Here's hoping for the latter."

He gave a nod to Liao, who returned it.

"We've also received official confirmation that three completely new Pillars of the Earth have begun construction on the moon, in the very same construction berths, no less. Tentatively, these ships are named the _Madrid_ , the _Moscow_ , and the _Tripoli_ in keeping with the naming tradition we've started."

Smiles and approving murmurs between all the staff. "They're still a few years out," Grégoire cautioned, "but it is heartening to know that there are reinforcements on the horizon. The new ships are packing quite the punch; they're employing a lot of the new technology we seized from the Toralii and reverse engineered. When these new ships of the line arrive, our ability to project military force will be _substantially_ increased."

Liao turned over a page in her notebook. "However," she began, "that's still a long way in the future for us. In order for those ships to ever see combat, we have to push the Toralii Alliance away and make sure they _stay_ away, which brings us back to our current course of action."

She clicked her remote. Several small dots, ringed by thin, green circles to make them easier to see, appeared on the monitor.

"These are missile and rail gun batteries on the surface of Mars, built by remotely operated construction teams over the last two months. There are sixteen rail guns and twenty rapid-fire missile batteries stationed on the planet, all clustered into three main fire bases, and all built so that at all times there's a full battery pointing towards the Mars-Sun L1 Lagrange point."

Aharoni raised his hand. "Captain, how do you propose to entice the Toralii to jump into that particular point? No doubt they've tried to engage counter-attacks by now and found the innermost jump points to be disabled. Given how badly the failed jump affected our systems, I doubt they would be constantly checking them, even with robotic probes."

Liao nodded the man's way. "Excellent point, Major, and for that I defer to Captain Grégoire."

She ceded the floor to the dark-skinned captain, who gave her a formal nod and then addressed the collective senior staff of both ships.

"We know that the Toralii have some way of communicating with the Forerunner—rather, they _did_ before we ripped out its power core. Without up-to-date jump coordinates, eventually they'll be unable to jump into this solar system at all, which would obviously put a dent in our ambush if we can't get them to show up."

Grégoire let a slow grin spread over his face despite his best efforts to remain strictly professional. "So the plan is... tag and release. When the trap is set, we're going to take the Forerunner out of the _Beijing_ 's hold, plug the power supply back in, and let it merrily jump away. We don't know how long it will take the Toralii to respond, but Saara's best guess is 'very quickly.'"

As though on cue, Saara spoke once more. Lieutenant Yu again translated.

"Saara says that the Toralii keep at least one fleet on high alert, generally to watch for Kel-Vorian aggression, but also for situations like this. Right now, they're probably working to find ways to jump into this system, testing each of the jump points in turn and methodically plotting bloody vengeance."

Saara grumbled something, and Yu gave a sheepish grin. "Saara technically said, 'a counterattack,' but I... dramatized it a little."

Another response from Saara, then Yu translated. "She does agree, though, that the dramatization is accurate."

Liao nodded towards Yu, tapping the edge of her notepad absently. "I'm certain that they're gunning for revenge, and I'm certain that this time they won't be caught by surprise. Rather than attacking a supply facility with a number of inactive vessels, we'll be facing them on an even playing field. We're going to be essentially going toe to toe with the best the Toralii have to offer. There's even a chance, Saara informs us, that the Toralii could field the same energy weapon that attacked Earth and use it on our ships."

Liao paused a moment, letting the gravity of what she was saying sink in.

"Despite the best-laid plans, the best weapons and tactics the human race can provide, and all the luck in the world, this is going to be a lot more difficult than the assault on Hades. Yes, this time _we_ have the home-field advantage, but they'll be coming to us—the element of surprise will be working _against_ us. To pull this off, we—and I mean to say all three crews of _all three_ ships—are going to have to give our absolute best. There is no room for error in this operation, and if we fail, we lose it all. If we can't hold back the Toralii, we can't contain and destroy them... and there'll be nothing between them and Earth. This hand is all in, ladies and gentlemen."

Rowe chuckled. "So, no pressure, huh?" She glanced around the room. "I'm guessing it's far too late for me to become a doctor as my dad always wanted."

There were titters from the senior staff. Doctor Saeed leaned in towards the red-headed woman. "Being a doctor doesn't get _me_ out of it." He gave her a playful nudge. More chuckles and banter filled the air until Liao held up a hand for quiet.

"Thank you once again, Summer, for your continued disruptive presence."

The redhead bowed playfully in her seat.

Liao let her settle and then nodded firmly, casting her eyes around the packed briefing room. The brightly lit room was full of faces, all staring at her, and she wondered just how many of them would still be left after the operation.

Or if any of them would.

Taking a breath, Liao composed herself, glancing at each of her senior staff, looking in the eyes of each one. She wanted to project an aura of solidarity and strength, to inspire and bolster the courage of each and every one of them.

Liao wasn't sure if she succeeded.

"If there are no further questions... dismissed."

_Captain Liao's Quarters_

_TFR_ Beijing

_Four hours later_

It was amazing what four hours worth of sleep could do for you if you really, really needed it, which Liao did. She jumped out of bed as if she had springs on her heels, throwing on her uniform in record time. As a young girl, she had often sung while dressing herself; this was a luxury she did not permit herself this time, but it would be a lie to say that the idea did not cross her mind as she slipped on her epaulettes and tightened her belt.

Liao spent some time looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair had grown out and was getting too long. Memories of how it floated around with the gravity disabled caused her to strongly consider cutting it. She slowly combed her hair and then put it up in a tight bun. This was to keep it from touching her collar. That was the regulation with women's hair; it was allowed to be almost any length, but in order to maintain order and formality, it had to be arranged in a style that would not permit it to touch the collar. It was a rule she had spent a great deal of time fighting against but had been forced to accept and then eventually embrace.

For the female officers under her command, she enforced it strictly, with Rowe being the only woman on board to escape her determined crusade against long hair. Almost all of the other women on board went with bob cuts.

She clipped the scrunchie bun around the tight ball of hair, giving it even more form and stability, and then silently proclaimed herself presentable. With one glance towards the mirror, Liao adjusted her belt and then opened the hatchway to the corridor beyond.

Saara was waiting on the other side of the metal door. Liao had not heard a thing and wondered how long the Toralii had been waiting there; it was slightly unnerving to think that all the while she had been playing with her hair, someone had been waiting but a few metres away, separated only by an internal bulkhead and Saara's sense of decency. She idly wondered if all Toralii were so patient and quiet or if this was something unique to Saara.

Still, it was very heartening to see Saara moving around the ship without her assigned guard. Liao wanted Saara to feel welcome aboard the ship. She had been an invaluable ally to their cause and had provided them with a well of information—including the language of her people—without which they would have been groping in the dark. Saara clearly took her debt to Liao seriously.

"Are you ready for the big day?"

Saara gave a roll of her shoulders, a gesture she had picked up from her time spent with the humans aboard the _Beijing_. Liao had asked her about it once; the Toralii did not have a "shrug" gesture. Instead, they tended to flick their tails from side to side, something that Melissa saw her doing in tandem with the adopted shrugging motion.

["I am as ready as I will ever be, I suppose."]

Liao frowned slightly, although she forced her face to return to a neutral expression. "That doesn't sound very reassuring," she admitted, and Saara gave another one of her combined shrugs.

Folding her arms, Liao leaned against the inner frame of the hatchway to her quarters, regarding her Toralii friend with a concerned look painted on her face.

"Is this... about the upcoming operation? The release of the Forerunner?"

Saara paused, and Liao could see that she was reluctant to talk... at least, in what essentially amounted to a public corridor.

"Why don't you come inside?" Liao beckoned into her quarters, stepping out of the frame so Saara could enter. She didn't.

["I'm sorry, Captain, but I cannot. The captain's quarters are an almost... sacred place to the Toralii, a tradition we adopted during the early years of our development as we transitioned into a spacefaring race. For me, who am not even a member of your crew, to dare step foot into your private sanctum would spell disaster for us in terms of our fate, Captain."]

Saara's language use was slightly beyond what Liao could comfortably understand, but she got the general gist of things. She had no time for such superstitions, but she respected those among her crew—and otherwise—who had faith or belief of a sort. Melissa gave a polite nod.

"As you wish, friend. If you wanted, we could arrange a visit to the conference room if it's not booked."

Saara's smile gave her answer. Minutes later, they were stepping through the threshold to the spacious room, the two of them pulling up chairs. Liao poured them both a glass of water and then got straight down to business.

"What seems to be the problem, Saara? You don't think the Toralii Alliance will take the bait?"

The Toralii shook her head. ["No, I am confident that they will. The Forerunner's automated systems will tell them everything they need to know in order to jump directly into the jump point we've prepared for them. I see no reason why, based on our current intelligence and my knowledge of the Toralii Alliance, they would not eagerly leap upon what they perceive to be the perfect opportunity to strike back."]

"I'm very much inclined to agree." A pause. "Is it... something else, then?" Liao tilted her head. She had often wondered how Saara would integrate into the crew; she was a Toralii, after all, and therefore not only an outsider but someone with whom many of the crew might bear a somewhat understandable animosity. Saara had been spending a great deal of time in the engineering bays of late; if she had encountered trouble from the rest of the humans on board...

["I... suppose I am concerned about my role in the upcoming battle. While the idea of us fighting other Toralii is not abhorrent to me, we still cannot be sure which faction, specifically, will respond to the Forerunner's call first. If it is the Toralii Alliance, all is well and good; if it is the Telvan..."]

Liao could understand her distress. If the Toralii people were as Saara had described them—factionalised, much like the nations of Earth, and often warring—then it stood to reason that she would have no qualms about humanity engaging her enemies. But if her own faction responded to the call...

"The Forerunner was Alliance __ property. It's extremely unlikely any Telvan ships will detect the probe's hails. And even if they do, it's less likely still that the Telvan will rally a fleet to fight their enemy's battle."

Saara threw her a questioning look.

Without her needing to ask, Liao simply nodded her head.

"But I promise, Saara, if Telvan ships respond to the call, I will do my utmost to try to avoid any bloodshed. I will even allow you to talk to them directly if I can."

Saara seemed locked in thought, and Liao gave her the moment to think. Finally, the Toralii slowly nodded her head, her decision apparently made. ["That sounds fair."]

Liao gave her friend a little smile and stood, pushing her chair back. "We should make our way to operations. The last of the preparations are being made as we speak."

Saara gave Liao a slight nod and then stood. The two walked together to operations, but despite her reassurances, Liao could sense that there was still some unease in the way Saara carried herself.

_Operations_

_TFR_ Beijing

Liao walked with Saara. The two women, human and Toralii, stepped into the operations room of the TFR _Beijing_. At once, Liao was besieged by voices, and she addressed them in turn. The missile batteries on the Martian surface reported that they were in perfect firing position. The communications officers on the _Tehran_ and the _Sydney_ both reported that their ships were ready and standing by, and Major Jazz reported that the strike craft were fuelled, armed, and prepared for launch. There was some delay bringing all their power plants up to battle power, however, so the _Beijing_ was the last piece of the puzzle to be set.

Liao was always nervous before such serious operations. Although she and the crew had been through quite an adventure in the last half year, this was different. Liao felt her stomach doing backflips again, another wave of nausea bubbling in her belly, threatening to cause her to run for the head and empty its contents into the steel bowl.

Liao's discipline would not allow her to throw up in the command centre of her own ship, so she brutally suppressed the feeling and ignored the sickness. However, despite her best efforts, the upset in her belly remained, doggedly nagging at her; she knew that if artificial gravity were cut, she would almost certainly lose her breakfast.

Excusing herself from the operations room, she visited the head. Instead of throwing up, however, she reached for her radio.

"Captain Liao to Doctor Saeed."

It took a few moments for the call to be answered, moments that seemed to crawl past. When Saeed's voice finally filtered through the radio's tiny speaker, Liao felt relief flood her.

"This is Saeed. What can I do for you, Captain?"

Liao knew better than to lie to her physician, but in some circumstances a slight untruth would be preferable to spelling out the whole issue. She did not want to be taken for a coward. "Doctor, I'm experiencing a little stomach upset; it's possible that my breakfast was undercooked this morning. It's not too bad, but if you had something to settle it, I'd be quite appreciative."

Saeed's voice seemed entirely understanding, and for that Liao was infinitely thankful.

"That shouldn't be a problem," he chirped through the radio. "We've been getting a few reports of similar cases today. Honestly, I think it's some kind of bug going around. Probably to do with the food. I'll have one of the nurses bring up something to help."

Relieved, Liao stepped out of the cramped bathroom and waited outside operations for the nurse. When he arrived, she snatched up the two white-and-red pills and immediately swallowed them. The nurse, sheepishly standing nearby with a full glass of water, merely shrugged and went back the way he had come.

She gave the pills a few minutes to work. Rowe or someone else in operations would call her radio if her voice was required, but blissfully, nothing like that came through at all. She had a brief encounter with what she and other captains referred to as "pure gold," a moment or two of complete and utter, uninterrupted silence.

She rapidly began to feel better and made a mental note to thank Doctor Saeed for his skill. Stepping back through the hatchway to operations, Liao was greeted not with a barrage of reports and requests but with a single voice, Lieutenant Jiang, who called to her from the tactical console.

"Captain Liao, all sections report condition green, and the Forerunner is ready for launch. Martian surface batteries report they are standing by for fire missions."

Jiang glanced around to make sure nobody else had any other comments and then nodded to Liao. "We are clear to initiate the operation."

Moving to stand by the command console, Liao nodded her head. "Very good, Mister Jiang." She deliberately paused as she considered, ordering her thoughts and clearing her mind.

"Launch the Forerunner."

Lieutenant Jiang flicked a single switch, read from her sensors, and then twisted in her chair. "The Forerunner is away, Captain."

Liao nodded to her, her hands on her hips. "Very well. When it reaches six hundred metres, return power to the probe."

The minutes ticked by as the probe gently drifted away from the ship. When the time came, they restored power with a flick of a switch. A call came from Ling, the radar operator. "Power restored, Captain. The Forerunner has jumped away."

Liao settled down in the seat beside the command console, deliberately taking a moment to smooth out her uniform and get settled in. She would likely be sitting down for some time, and she wanted to be comfortable.

With her hands folded into her lap, Liao looked around the operations room, as if to check that everything was where she expected. She could be patient, yes, but this wait tested even _her_ nerves.

There had been problems, yes, but at least the Forerunner had gotten away. The most critical part of their plan, then, the setting of the trap, was complete. They had done everything they could possibly have done; the crew had outdone themselves by every measure.

"And now... we wait."

Chapter XIV

****

Fire in the Sky

_*****_

_Operations_

_TFR_ Beijing

_One hour later_

LIAO FELT HERSELF BECOMING DROWSY, her eyelids heavy. Perhaps it was just her, but when the Forerunner had jumped away, Liao had secretly expected the Toralii Alliance fleet to react almost instantly; Saara had told them that the Alliance kept a small fleet on standby for just such an occasion. But while her "gut instinct" told her the Toralii would come for them immediately, her military mind spoke common sense and reminded her that no military reacted instantly and that, no matter how fast the gears of the Toralii war machine turned, their enemies would need some time to gather themselves before any jump could be made.

"I'm _bored_ ," came the predictable whine of Rowe's voice. The freckled redhead gently thumped her forehead against the metal of her console in frustration, creating a rhythmic _thump_ , _thump_ , _thump_ that echoed faintly throughout the otherwise quiet operations room.

"Perhaps, then, you could entertain yourself by checking those reactors again. We'll need that power to charge the hull plating when the Toralii Alliance arrive, and our rail guns are going to chew through a lot of juice. They can't have any more problems. Also, verify that our fire control systems are giving accurate data to the Martian batteries. They're shooting a very long way, and I don't want any mistakes."

"Right," murmured Rowe, who began absently tapping on some of the keys in front of her—not enough to press them, but enough to cause Liao a mild degree of frustration. "I'll be sure to check and recheck the _exact same shit_ I checked only a few minutes ago. I'm sure that'll _help_."

Ignoring her sarcasm, Liao turned to her communications officer. "Mister Hsin, if you could, please collect a status update from the _Sydney_ and the _Tehran_."

A brief moment of quiet, punctuated only by the youthful man's voice as he made the request. While they waited, Liao rubbed her eyes with her thumbs, desperately trying to keep herself awake. Now was not the time to yawn, not in front of the operations crew, and not right as they were about to engage in the first mission featuring all three Pillars of the Earth.

"Captain Liao, the _Sydney_ and the _Tehran_ both report, again, that they are still ready for engagement and operating at—"

"RADAR CONTACT!"

The voice made everyone in the room jump. It was Ling, the radar operator, and all eyes fell upon him.

"Report!"

"Captain, it's a jump-in... cap-ship sized. Two hundred thousand tonnes! Exactly the same configuration as the last Toralii ship we saw!"

Rowe's laughter could be heard over the din. "I just _love_ it when a plan comes together!"

Liao stood from her chair, striding over to the command stations. "Launch the strike craft! Missile batteries one, two, three: fire! Rail gun operators, find and engage targets of opportunity!" She turned to Mister Hsin. "Inform the fleet we have engaged the Toralii!"

"Missiles away, Captain!"

"Major Aharoni reports that the strike craft are away!"

"Captain, the _Tehran_ and the _Sydney_ report that they have engaged the contact with strike craft and nukes. Effect on target unknown at this time!"

"Captain Liao! The surface batteries on Mars are reporting that they have engaged the Toralii with their high-speed rail guns, and missiles are en route!"

Liao nodded, her eyes flying over her various screens as she took in a torrent of information. "Good," was her only immediate reply, as she watched the ship's missiles, followed by a cloud of strike fighters, scream towards their targets.

Ling, the radar operator, spoke up again. "The Toralii vessel is launching strike craft, Captain," he called, but his voice was partially drowned out by another call from Hsin.

"Captain! I'm receiving a... _transmission_ from the Toralii!"

Liao grabbed the long-range communications headset, slipping it over her head. The deep, guttural voice of the Toralii she spoke to previously once again echoed in her ears.

["This is Warbringer Avaran of the Toralii Alliance Vessel _Seth'arak_."] Liao swore she could hear a definitive snarl at the end of the sentence, and the Toralii's voice was clipped and abrupt as though he were holding back indescribable rage. From the corner of her eye, she also saw Saara visibly relax as the Toralii ship identified itself as being of the Alliance. Liao, too, breathed slightly easier; that was one major drama they had averted.

["You humans... you have the gall to think that you could _possibly_ get away with attacking an outpost of the Toralii Alliance?"]

Liao clicked the talk key, glancing at the radar display she had pulled up on one of her many screens. "The way I see it, Warbringer Avaran, what I believe is basically irrelevant. We _did_ attack your outpost, and we _did_ get away—and now we're about to keep up our winning streak. Your sensors will tell you that your vessel is completely surrounded and, in moments, will be destroyed."

A low, echoing chuckle filtered down the line, a sound that seemed to be very alien yet also very human in its composition. ["Your threats are spoken with such fire, Captain Liao, but... I'm afraid that your situation is far more perilous than you could _possibly_ imagine."]

"Captain!" Jiang's voice called to her. Liao turned to face her tactical officer. "Captain, the Toralii ship is projecting some kind of energy weapon. They're targeting the _Sydney_ 's strike craft!"

Commander Iraj nodded to Jiang. "That's to be expected. The strike craft should easily be able to evade that fire at this distance—"

Jiang shook her head, her cropped black bob flying around with the effort. "No, Commander, it's not their standard weapons array. This is something _different_! It's one large blast!"

Liao's eyes widened. A glance towards Commander Iraj confirmed he was thinking the same thing; it was the weapon that had struck the _Tehran_ when it was in the Hades system. She knew that it had to be avoided and turned to Hsin. "Lieutenant! Hail those strike craft, tell them to—"

From her peripheral vision, she saw the radar screen on her monitor crackle with a wave of static, immediately drawing her eye to its bright light. For a split second, the image was overwhelmed, and then a wave of bright green dots surged out and over the swarm of tiny radar blips that indicated the TFR _Sydney_ 's strike craft, washing over them and narrowly missing their mother ship.

"What the _fuck_ was that? Was it the same thing the _Tehran_ saw in the Hades system?"

Nobody in the operations room seemed to have any answer. There was a split second of silence and then a cacophony of voices began to shout their reports all at once.

"Radar function severely reduced, Captain, recommend switching to long-range thermal targeting instead!"

"Captain, Major Aharoni reports seeing a bright white flash, visible to the naked eye, in the direction of the TFR _Sydney_!"

"Our electronics are _fucked_ , Captain!"

Liao tried to sort through the jumbled mass of voices. "Lieutenant Jiang, give me an analysis; is it the same energy wave that hit the _Tehran_ in the Hades system?" She jabbed a finger towards Ling. "Ling, do it. Switch to thermals!"

"It matches the description, Captain!" Jiang's voice sounded horrified. "The _Sydney_ 's strike craft are... _gone,_ Captain! The energy wave got them all!"

Liao swore darkly, furrowing her brow. "Rowe! Rowe!" She tried to get the engineer's attention. "What's the status on our electronics?"

"They're fucked, as I said! That energy blast—it's like the one used in the attack on Earth, except this one's more powerful! It seems to have some kind of EMP or something!"

"Status on missiles?"

"Impact in twenty seconds, Captain!"

Liao nodded. That was good. They needed to hit them fast. She turned to Commander Iraj as the man called to Lieutenant Jiang.

"What about the strike craft from all allied ships?"

Hsin turned in his seat and faced the XO. "The _Sydney_ reports that they are recalling what's left of their strike craft—apparently one or two survived—and are preparing to close the distance to engage. The _Tehran_ 's craft are still closing, Captain."

Frowning again, Liao glanced across to Jiang. "Got any _good_ news for me, Lieutenant? What about the surface batteries?"

"The surface missile batteries have commenced firing, Captain; impact in six minutes! Also, for what it's worth, Major Aharoni reports that he and the rest of the strike craft are engaging the Toralii fighters!"

At the mention of Aharoni, Liao caught sight of Rowe's expression, a mix of excitement and worry, but there was no time to deal with that now.

Ling spoke up. "Captain! The _Tehran_ 's missiles have impacted the hostile ship. Can't tell the effect from here; there's too much interference on our radar! Thermals show detonations, however... dammit!" He paused about two seconds; then, "Minimal effect!"

Liao swore again, smacking her flat palm on the metal of her console. "Engage the gravity mines and lock down the jump point; even this one ship is proving to be a handful, and we don't want another."

"Gravity mines enabled, Captain. The point's locked down."

Which also cut off their escape route, should they need it. Liao mused over this; judging by the way things were going, they almost certainly would regret that decision.

Lieutenant Dao, who had remained mostly silent for the battle with little to do, finally spoke up. "Captain Liao... the hostile ship is moving!"

Liao furrowed her brow, looking his way. "Moving? To where?"

"Directly towards the _Tehran._ Distance: ten thousand kilometres."

Liao picked up her long-range radio, clicking the talk key. " _Sydney_ , _Tehran—_ this is _Beijing_ actual. Report status, over."

Liao heard the accented voice of the communications officer from the TFR _Sydney_. " _Beijing_ , _Sydney_ ; we are throwing everything we have at maximum sustainable rate of fire. Our rail guns are out of action due to a malfunction, so it's missiles only for us."

Another malfunction from the _Sydney_. Liao didn't have time to think about the implications of one of their ships missing a major weapons system.

Grégoire's voice filtered over the communications line. " _Beijing_ actual, this is _Tehran_ actual. Our missiles and rail guns are hot on the target; preparing a third barrage now."

Rowe couldn't help but let a tiny smile creep over her features. Despite what was happening, despite the dire situation they'd found themselves in with only one ship on their hands, it was good to hear Grégoire's voice.

"Very good. Give them hell, _Tehran_ ; _Beijing out_."

Placing down the headset, Liao looked at the long-range radar screen, observing the battle with her arms folded. The ship shuddered almost imperceptibly as nukes flew from his firing tubes and rail guns threw their ordnance towards the target.

Jiang shouted over the noise of the operations room. "Captain! Captain, I'm detecting another energy surge... the Toralii are going to fire their energy weapon again!"

Liao cursed darkly. "Their target? Is it our strike fighters?"

Jiang shook her head. "Negative, Captain. It looks as though they're going to hit the _Tehran_ itself!"

_James_! Liao snatched up the long-range communications headset again, frantically hitting the talk key. " _Tehran_ , this is _Beijing_ actual; evasive manoeuvres! The hostile ship has you targeted!"

Once again Grégoire's voice called back to her. "We're well aware of that, _Beijing_ , we are moving to—"

There was an intense burst of loud static, causing her to rip off the headset in pain. She looked at the long-range radar again, seeing another intense wave of energy fly from the Toralii ship, so bright and so powerful that their sensors could barely cope.

The strange Toralii weapon hit the _Tehran_ square on her broadside, causing another burst of static, almost blinding the _Beijing_ 's sensors. Through the interference, Liao could see the wave didn't even slow down as it passed right through the warship, the energy pulse flying off the edge of her radar screen in seconds.

Stunned silence fell over the operations room. Liao stared at the computer screen, trying to determine the damage that the _Tehran_ had taken. Debris clouded the radar screen. Heat masked their thermal sensors.

She felt the same clench in her heart she had felt when the _Tehran_ didn't jump back from the Hades system. Was James okay?

Hsin spoke up and ended the brief, shocked silence. "Captain, I'm reading a distress signal from the _Tehran_. They're hit pretty bad! They report that there are fires on all decks, massive breaches, almost all of their systems are offline except navigation."

Liao came back to reality. She was still in a situation and she still had a battle to fight.

"Close with that Toralii ship! Get us within one thousand kilometres! We can't let them hit us with that energy blast!"

She turned to Saara. "That weapon's much bigger and more dangerous than you told us it would be!"

Saara shouted across the noise. ["That's because it's more powerful than I anticipated and much more accurate! Normally the device can only be used to hit large, stationary targets, but... I suppose the Toralii Alliance must have a more powerful variant than my people do!"]

Liao noted with some trepidation that the _Beijing_ was stationary.

"Evasive manoeuvres, then! Get us close, but make sure they can't hit us!"

Saara turned to another operations officer. ["Mister Dao, I recommend you don't get too close, or they will attempt to board us! No more than five hundred kilometres should be safe!"] Liao almost instinctively went to translate, but the man gave her a nod, signalling that he understood.

Liao did not like the way this battle was going. They had enabled the gravity mines, which was a good start since it cut off the possibility of reinforcements, but the lone Toralii ship was displaying remarkable confidence. Further, the _Sydney_ didn't have operational rail guns, and the _Tehran_ was disabled. Risking another glance at her radar display, Liao could see that the Toralii vessel was moving towards the stricken _Tehran_ with remarkable speed. Although the frictionless void of space meant that "top speed" was—for _all_ objects, not just spaceships—the speed of light, the acceleration of ships was directly related to their weight and thrust. It appeared that the Toralii ship had a much better thrust-to-weight ratio than the Pillars, given they were the same tonnage. Liao wondered how they had conjured such a liberal amount of power from their engines. The Toralii technology really was more advanced.

Perhaps she and her crew had bitten off more than they could chew this time. This was no scout ship; it was a battlecruiser built for war.

"The Toralii are firing, Captain! They're targeting the _Tehran_ and trying to close with her!"

"Are they using the energy wave again?"

"Negative, Captain, conventional weapons only. I'm reading a lot of excess heat on thermals. They must be cooking over there!"

"Good." Liao was about to issue another order, but Hsin's voice reached her ears.

"It's the _Tehran_ again, Captain. They report that their weapons suites are offline, not that it matters since the hostile ship is accelerating too quickly to be accurately targeted, and their strike craft can't catch it. They have navigation, and Captain Grégoire is attempting to restart the ship's propulsion and guidance systems, but that's all they can do at this time!"

Liao nodded her acknowledgement, an intense wave of relief washing over her as Hsin confirmed for her that Grégoire was okay. Putting her mind back to task—and angrily berating herself for allowing herself to become distracted—she glanced back to the radar screen. "Mister Jiang! The moment the missile tubes have finished reloading, fire them immediately. What's the status of our rail guns?"

"The rail guns appear to have minimal effect; I don't understand what's going on! The rounds are impacting on the ship, but there's very little debris at all! It doesn't make any sense!"

Rowe shouted over the din of alarms and clacking keyboards. "It's because we're hitting them from behind as they move towards the _Tehran_! The difference in velocities is reducing the relative speed of the rail gun slugs by about a quarter, so they're not getting through the hull plating! Based on what we saw earlier, we'd probably need at least three thousand metres a second to get through!"

Liao nodded, clenching her fists. That was... annoying. "Can we increase speed so we hit them faster?"

"Well yeah, we _can_ do that, but then we'll overshoot when they stop!"

Liao shook her head. "Just keep trying to punch through then. Status on those missile tubes, Jiang?"

A pause as Jiang finished checking her console. "Reloading complete. Missiles away, Captain! Be advised, the Toralii are firing again... at _us_ this time!"

The ship began to shake and rock as the incoming wave of Toralii fire struck them. Small objects clattered to the floor as, even here in the central heart of the ship, the vessel shook with the impact. The crew of the operations room all exchanged nervous glances, and Liao felt a sinking feeling in her stomach that, she hoped, was not a return of the nausea; a shudder in the operations room would have been a profound shake only a few decks above them, a strong earthquake near the hull, and beyond that... If the impacts had cracked the hull plating, it couldn't hold a charge, so their defences would be significantly weakened.

She silently prayed that there were no engineering crews doing emergency work in the outer, evacuated regions of the ship and then returned her mind to the present. "Increase evasive manoeuvres, reduce velocity towards the _Tehran_ if you have to. Just make sure they can't hit us! All weapons, maximum sustainable rate of fire; throw everything you have at them, Mister Jiang!"

"Aye aye, Captain!"

"The Toralii ship is closing!" Ling's voice called out again. "Distance: two thousand klicks! Captain, we have to decelerate, or we'll overshoot!"

Liao wanted to get as close to the Toralii as she could to stop right on top of them, if possible, but Liao knew that Ling had a point. "Do it; slow us down!"

The ship began to rotate, slowly flipping one hundred eighty degrees and placing his powerful gravimetric engines in the direction of his travel. The effect of the reverse-thrust was palpable from where she was standing, and she watched the instruments as the ship slowed down.

She glanced at the radar screen. The _Tehran_ continued to get closer and closer as they moved directly towards it, but they were still almost two thousand kilometres away. Far too far away... and possibly still within range of the huge blast-wave generator that the Toralii possessed.

She glanced to her communications officer. "Mister Hsin, where's the _Sydney_?"

"They're moving to assist the _Tehran_ , coming in from the _Tehran's_ port side. Their missiles are hitting the hostile ship remarkably well, ma'am. Whoever they've got running their targeting systems is good at their job."

Thank heavens for small mercies. Liao was about to issue another command, but Hsin's console emitted a series of beeping noises, interrupting her chain of thought as she watched him take the transmission.

Then Hsin turned in his chair, glancing towards Liao, his face ashen.

"Captain... the _Tehran_ reports that they have containment breach in their reactors. They are attempting an emergency shutdown procedure, but they're having trouble with their coolant pumps. They lost almost all their effective heat sinks in the blast, and their ship can't radiate away its heat fast enough. Internal temperature is almost thirty-five degrees Celsius in there and climbing."

Thirty-five degrees... hot enough to be extremely uncomfortable for those who were not used to it, and getting worse by the second. Liao bit her lower lip, trying to force the mental image of James and his entire crew roasting alive out of her head, but it was... persistent.

Another barrage of fire struck the _Beijing_ , and this time the shaking was more violent and pronounced; multiple officers nearly lost their seats, and Liao almost fell over.

Gripping her console, she turned to Jiang. "Damage report!"

The report took a second or two to come in. "Major damage to the outer hull, Captain! A number of the heat sinks have been completely destroyed, while most others are showing at least some degree of structural damage! Breaches on decks four, five, six, eight, nine!"

Rowe slammed her boot into the underside of her console. "Fuck! Fuck! The damage to the heat sinks is causing too much temperature buildup; we'll have to take _half_ our reactors offline just to stop ourselves from melting into slag!"

Liao knew what that meant. With half their reactors down, their weapons would be half as effective, and the charge through the hull plating—for all the good it was doing them—would be significantly reduced. Other, less important systems all over the ship also couldn't run at maximum power. It was a significant tactical disadvantage.

Then again, they didn't want to end up cooked in their own shell like the _Tehran_.

"Turn them off!" she roared, gesturing wildly to Rowe, who immediately began complying. There was no sense, she thought, in melting their ship—or even just the ship's reactor core—even if it meant reduced capability. "Reactors one through four, make safe!"

Some chance was better than none.

Hsin's voice cut through the confusion. "Captain! The _Sydney_ reports that they are getting effective weapon impacts on the Toralii vessel, but they will soon be too close to us to fire without risking fratricide from misses!"

Fratricide. Literally, to kill one's own brother, sometimes euphemistically referred to as "friendly fire."

Liao did not want to die by her allies' firepower, but so far their combined efforts seemed to have barely put a dent in the Toralii warship, while the Toralii had cut down the _Tehran_ with seemingly little effort at all.

They needed to score some points, or this game would be a short one.

"Tell them to keep firing as long as they can; we'll just have to dodge anything that comes our way from them, too." Then, in a low mutter only she could hear, Liao added, " _Somehow._ "

The order was acknowledged, and Liao turned her attention back to the radar screen on her monitor. The Toralii ship was now so close she had to look at the close-range collision avoidance radar. And, had anyone been near the outer hull, a glance out of a porthole with the naked eye would have revealed a tiny twinkling dot against the black sea of space.

That dot was still racing towards them at alarming speed despite its rapid deceleration. The Toralii ship was now too close for the _Beijing_ 's rail guns to hit and was within the area of effect of their own nukes. The close-range point-defence cannons opened up, spewing bursts of high-explosive rounds at the Toralii vessel, rapid-fire shots coming in waves from the dozens of newly installed autoturrets scattered along the ship's hull.

The collision avoidance radar showed numerous debris clouds rising from the impact zones, but neither Liao nor anyone else could tell how effective the much smaller cannon rounds were, or if they were even doing anything at all. The _Beijing_ 's strike fighters swarmed in and around the enemy capitol ship, alternating between strafing the short, stubby craft's underside and engaging the Toralii Alliance strike fighters.

Then the Toralii ship turned. It appeared to give up its pursuit of the _Tehran_ , who had ceased firing back entirely and was now drifting helplessly in space, and turned towards the _Beijing_. Liao watched the radar screen as it suddenly surged towards them.

Saara's earlier warning echoed in her ears. She knew what they were doing, now. They'd drawn the two ships in close, so they could be boarded.

They had fallen into a trap.

["The Toralii are moving into boarding range!"]

Liao glanced around the operations room, a feeling of helpless rage rising inside her churning stomach. She did _not_ want this ship— _her_ ship—to be boarded by the Toralii Alliance. The aliens were displaying a significant advantage over the human forces up in space, but despite their strength and prowess in that battlefield, they were choosing to close to boarding range; this decision would, presumably, only give them further tactical advantage.

"Options."

Dao, the navigator, spoke up. "Captain, we could roll the ship. Spin it like a log on the surface of water. They can't dock with us if we are rotating too fast."

Liao actually liked that plan. She gave the man a firm nod. "Do it."

As Dao went to work, Liao glanced around the room, looking for some other alternative. Her eyes met Rowe's, and the redhead shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Uh... we _could_ get the point-defence autocannons to attack whatever the Toralii are going to use to get over here inside. Especially if we let them attach it for, say, five seconds, so that if we destroy it, we suck the poor fuckers out into space as they're climbing through."

Liao liked that plan too. Already she could feel the ship turning as the navigator punched in the commands. "Let's hope Dao's plan works, but stand by to make that our plan B. Saara! What will they do?"

Saara shouted over the multiple conversations taking place in operations, her tail lashing in the air behind her. ["Captain, the Toralii will attach magnetic grapples to the side of the ship and hold it firm. Your manoeuvre will buy you some time, but their engines are powerful—and the auto-cannons will only last so long before the Toralii destroy them. I suggest you prepare an alternative solution."]

A quick glance around operations revealed that nobody had any suggestions. They could fight and struggle as much as they liked; they could kick and scream like toddlers confined to their bedrooms, but the Toralii were coming.

Reaching out for the internal handset, Liao squeezed the talk key and put it to her lips.

"Captain Liao to all hands. Stand by to repel boarders."

She lifted her finger and, just as she did, the ship was rocked by a third wave of fire, but this time, the blasts came from point-blank range, only a few metres or so from the _Beijing_ 's outermost hull. Liao was thrown off her feet, landing heavily on the metal deck, grunting in pain as she twisted her arm. Ignoring the pain for now, Liao dragged herself back up to her feet. Her eyes met Lieutenant Jiang's, and the woman shouted over the sound of wailing alarms.

"Captain, we've sustained a series of direct hits... significant damage to the port side of the ship, including multiple breaches. We've lost the ability to charge the hull in that area, and... I'm not sure, but based on the collision-avoidance radar readings I'm seeing, we're probably grappled."

All around them was the low, ominous sound of stressed metal, and Liao felt the ship move to one side as though it were being pulled in the opposite direction to its roll.

["The Alliance will want to drag your ship in close for boarding,"] said Saara, ["and then they will cut through the hull... are you sure your marines can stop them?"]

The question was legitimate enough, but Liao had faith in Cheung's ability to hold down their ship. Rather than directly answer the question, Liao turned her head towards Ling.

"Mister Ling! Call the _Sydney._ If they want to be big damn heroes, now is the time! How far away are they?"

"Close, Captain, one thousand kilometres, but they're moving too fast. They won't be able to decelerate in time! They'll overshoot!"

Liao balled her fists, growling angrily. That damn fool Knight... being too impatient, too eager to prove himself and his ship in battle. Yes, the _Beijing_ was in trouble, but Knight had to slow down, or there would be no point to it all.

More helpless anger surged through her body, and Liao found it harder and harder to fight the upswell of emotions. James was... injured, possibly, and maybe in mortal peril; a swift glance to the thermal monitor showed her that the _Tehran_ was burning on multiple decks, and the reactor cores were leaking. She wondered, if the _Tehran_ hadn't been so badly damaged in the Hades system battle, might it be more functional?

The _Tehran_ slowly turned and moved towards the _Beijing_ , trailing atmosphere and smoke behind it. That made her heart jump and sink at the same time. He was coming to try to save her.

Liao crushed the guilt that thought generated. She knew James would do this kind of thing, rush to help her, and that was okay. They were a couple... a _team_. They helped each other.

Not that this was helping them now. Liao mused over the revelation that, in light of the situation, their mutual desire to get laid might very well cost them both their lives.

Right at that moment, a low, loud _clunk_ seemed to reverberate throughout the entire ship, shaking even the operations room centre, the armoured core of the _Beijing_. Liao and the other operations crew exchanged looks. Each knew what that sound meant.

The Toralii ship was right next to their own. They were being boarded.

Jiang put her finger to her earpiece and then turned around and shouted back to Liao. "Marines on deck eleven report that the Toralii are cutting into the hull on that deck, Captain!"

Melissa nodded her head. It was all going exactly as Saara said it would, and there was precious little she could do about it.

"See if you can dislodge them with the auto-cannons," she ordered, leaving the command console and moving over where Jiang's tactical console was. Liao watched as the woman pulled up the targeting camera built into a pair of the guns, taking in the scene it projected, a picture of the outside of the ship.

Liao was shocked at just how badly damaged the outer hull of the _Beijing_ appeared. The so-called indestructium hull plating was blackened and charred, with numerous craters and scorch marks, the thick, heavy plates cracked and broken.

The hull more resembled the surface of the moon than the metallic skin of a warship.

More alarming to Liao, however, were the several places where the damage extended beyond the hull, where breaches had dug themselves deep into the softer tissue of the ship, and thick trails of escaping gasses poured from the ship's wounds. The presence of leaking atmosphere meant that the blasts had struck areas of the ship which had not been evacuated and therefore would have been occupied by crew members.

She knew those people were almost certainly dead.

Jiang took control of the cannon, lining up on the dark, thin tendril that was the docking umbilical and firing at its midpoint. Liao watched with some satisfaction as, after three shots, the cable broke, spinning and kicking about in space like an unattended fire hose, pouring gas and debris into the void.

Gas, debris, and Toralii boarding parties. She could see they wore thick, armoured suits made of some kind of red metal, reflective visors covering their faces. Liao presumed them to be sealed space-suits, as one might expect space-based marines to wear. She knew they would have had a small, limited, internal oxygen supply, and as Liao watched them float helplessly away, she knew their hopes of rescue from the dark void of space before it ran out seemed very slim.

A horrid way to die, waiting patiently for one's oxygen to run out, but pity for the fate of those Toralii was a luxury Liao couldn't afford. She watched as Jiang took up a firing solution on the next boarding tube, blasting it in half with similar results. She lined up on a third, but the screen suddenly glowed and then became nothing more than static as the turret she was controlling was annihilated by a Toralii weapon. Jiang tried several other turrets, but they were either already destroyed or soon to join their companions.

Four tendrils was the total that had attached to her vessel, and Liao presumed there were four holes being cut into the hull—the flesh and skin of her ship—as she spoke. They were at the wrong angle for rail guns and far too close for nukes. There was nothing else they could do.

"Master-at-arms, distribute sidearms to the operations crew. We can be sure that this section will be one of their targets."

As though waiting for her order, the master-at-arms swiftly opened the gun locker in the corner of operations and began distributing pistols.

As he approached Liao, she gestured down to her sidearm.

"I'm quite okay, thank you. I'll take some extra magazines, though."

The man handed her two extra magazines, and she stuffed them into her back pocket. Satisfied, she strode over to Jiang's console, leaning over and inspecting the woman's readings as Jiang pulled one of the black nylon belts around her hip, checking that the pistol was loaded before slipping it into the plastic holster.

"It looks as though they're approaching from the top," Liao remarked, pointing out a swarm of heat signatures pouring into the upper decks of the ship. "Dispatch marines to the grappled sections with instructions to repel boarders with _extreme_ prejudice."

There was a tense moment as four clumps of thermal signals, the _Beijing_ 's marines, which looked like puffs of white cloud, raced towards the Toralii invaders. Liao focused her eyes on the group containing her marine head, Warrant Officer Yanmei Cheung. The marines responded quicker than she had anticipated; it was heartening to see that at least _something_ was going right for the defenders.

Melissa watched as Cheung's team of marines made their way through the lower decks, climbing up the hatchways to deck two, making their way through the open and spacious corridors only seconds away from a group of attackers... and then, at a corner near food storage, the two signals merged.

Deck two was depressurized and unpowered, so Liao knew they were fighting in zero gravity. The internal thermal cameras showed the warm glows of humanoid bodies, the bright flashes of gunfire, and the occasional white-hot detonation of a grenade or explosive.

Due to the close nature of the battle and the low quality of the ship's cameras in that section, assessing the battle was impossible, but from what Liao could see on the bright, flickering screen of Jiang's console, it seemed as though the invaders were gaining ground.

"Mister Cheung, this is the captain. Report status."

There was a brief pause then the faint hiss of an activated radio. Cheung's voice echoed through the tiny speaker, weirdly distorted by the obvious helmet and space suit she wore.

"Dozens of Toralii foot-mobiles in red suits have breached deck two. Fu and Tao are dead; we're currently engaged, fighting running skirmishes, trying to use the doors for cover. Loading! Watch that one to your right!"

Cheung's voice was charged, but her tone was even and controlled. Liao couldn't hear any gunfire or any sounds at all other than Cheung's voice and heavy breathing. The vacuum outside her suit kept the noise of the gun battle to an absolute minimum, and what _was_ being transmitted, the vibrations of the woman's gun passed through the suit to the microphone, was too faint to be heard.

Liao held the talk key. "Good work. Hold them back in that sector, marine, but if they push, fall back. We can vent the sections they're in and try to throw them out into space by reversing the gravity."

"They've caught on to that trick, Captain! The first thing we did when we saw them was close the decompression doors and activate the fire suppression protocol—"

There was a sudden silence, filled only with a faint grunt and the hiss of escaping air. Liao's eyes widened, glancing down to Jiang and then at the radio.

"I'm here; sorry, Captain." Cheung's breathing had picked up—pained, gasping breathing. In the background, the faint _sss_ of escaping gas could be heard. "I'm hit. The Toralii are sick of us closing doors on them. As I said, the first thing we did was try to seal them in sections and vent them; we had significant success, but now they've magnetized their boots. They... they have the same hand-held energy weapons that Rowe recovered from Saara's fighter. They can burn through the bulkheads pretty damn quick. Got some melted bulkhead on my arm... it burned right through my suit. Hurts like a _motherfucker_ , ma'am."

Liao remembered Rowe's accidental demonstration, when a single blast from the pistol she'd found had half-melted a bulkhead. She did not doubt what Cheung was telling them.

"You know the protocol, Warrant Officer; a breached suit means immediate evacuation."

"Way ahead of you, Captain. I'm already on deck three, and... hold please." There was a brief pause as, presumably, Cheung received another transmission. Then Liao's radio crackled again.

"Captain! My men tell me the boarding parties have barricaded themselves inside sector four, deck one. They're using their weapons to burn through the floor!"

Liao swore silently. She hadn't expected this kind of manoeuvre. The ship was long and thin, so burning through the decks wouldn't take much time.

Sector four was about three rooms away from operations, as well.

"Cheung, how long until they're through the hull? That section is practically right above where I'm standing."

"Not sure, Captain, I can't see them. I'm making my way back to the lower decks with several other wounded marines."

Liao checked her sidearm. She knew that in moments the Toralii could be on top of them. She turned, calling out to the rest of the operations crew.

"Attention! This room is about to be breached by the Toralii. Commander Iraj, verify the seal on the decompression doors. All hands check your sidearms."

Liao's pistol slid into her hand, and she gave a firm nod as she watched other crewmen doing the same. She checked once again that it was loaded, glancing around the room.

Rowe had her pen in one hand and pistol in the other. She looked as though she might wet herself, and her hand was shaking so much that Liao considered taking the pistol from her. In contrast, Saara, composed and stoic as ever, merely held her pistol comfortably in both hands.

She met the Toralii woman's gaze, giving a silent nod, and then looked towards the hatchway to operations.

Jiang moved to her side, putting her hand on Liao's shoulder. "The Toralii are on this deck, Captain. They're in the corridor."

There was a faint hiss, and the outside edges of the sealed decompression door emitted a faint red glow as the Toralii slowly began to burn their way in from the other side.

Chapter XV

****

The Home Field Advantage

_*****_

_Operations_

_TFR_ Beijing

THEY HAD DONE ALL THEY could. There was now nothing to do but wait as the Toralii slowly burned their way through the decompression door that sealed off operations from the rest of the ship. Liao and the rest of the operations crew were crouched behind their consoles, weapons trained on the door, ready to defend their posts.

Normally internal defence would be left to the marines, but this time there would be no help from them. Every last one of the _Beijing_ 's marines had already been dispatched to battles all over the ship. Many were wounded, like Cheung, or were not answering their radios; Liao had to assume they were dead.

And now the Toralii were here, at the doorstep to the very heart of the _Beijing_.

Liao checked, for the third time, that her weapon was ready. The operations crew had their weapons drawn, ready to fight off the invaders.

Slipping the internal communications headset back over her head, Liao pressed the talk key. "Captain Liao to Warrant Officer Cheung."

Laboured breathing came through the earpiece, and when Cheung spoke, her voice didn't have the same muffling it did before. Additionally, Liao could hear shouting and movement in the background; she surmised that, with her suit breached, Cheung had found a pressurized section and taken off her helmet.

"Cheung here; what can I do for you, Captain?"

Liao gave a slight grin, watching the corners of the metal decompression door heat up, glowing a dull red as the Toralii burned through it. "There's a squad of Toralii Alliance marines about to break through the door to operations. I don't suppose you have any men to spare?"

Cheung thought it through. "Negative, Captain. Sorry, all units are engaged at this time."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Liao thought for a moment. "Anything you can tell me that'll help, based on your engagements with the Toralii so far?"

"Don't let them shoot you."

Liao couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Also," offered Cheung, "normal rounds work, but the full-metal-jacket, armour-piercing rounds work _better_. Tao had a magazine of them and they worked wonders till he ran out. Their armour isn't very thick, or possibly it's optimized to resist energy weapons rather than projectile-based ones. Pure speculation on my part there, sir."

Liao nodded, even though the gesture was lost on Cheung, who couldn't see her. "We only have regular tungsten slugs, unfortunately. Anything else?"

"Not really. Sorry, Captain."

Liao nodded. "Thank you. Liao out."

She took off the headpiece, gently putting it down, then glanced across to Jiang. "Mister Jiang, how much of Cheung's security report did you read?"

Jiang looked back to her captain, shrugging her shoulders. "Most of it, why?"

Liao's grin spread slightly. "Okay, well, here's the plan. Cheung came up with it. You see that section of the deck plate there, right in front of the door?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"All right, well, the moment those motherfuckers step through that door, amp up the voltage to the gravity-plating. Just give it everything you can, and just on that one plate. It should disable them."

By now, the door was red-hot and sagging. Jiang nodded, tapping away at her console. "That's a nice trick, Captain! Ready when you are!"

Right on cue, the door sagged just a little more; the sound of the Toralii burning through the metal stopped and instead was replaced by a series of _crack crack crack_ noises as the Toralii fired at it with their firearms.

The door, severely weakened by the heat of their cutting devices, sagged and fell inwards. Three of the red-suited Toralii swarmed into the room...

... and fell directly onto their faces, unable to move, pulled down by the suddenly increased weight of their own suits.

There was a ripple of gunfire throughout the whole room as the operations crew opened up on the downed Toralii, a hail of bullets whizzing through the air as they smashed into the Toralii's armoured suits, cracking and breaking them. From the leaks, white plumes of oxygen sprayed out from the bullet holes, soon followed by spurts of dark purple Toralii blood.

The barrage ceased. There was a brief pause, punctuated by the _click-click_ of reloading weapons and the occasional rattle of spent cartridges rolling loose on the floor. The remaining six Toralii hovered outside the door, cautiously examining the situation, their weapons raised.

And then they returned fire. Their rifle-like weapons made a loud _crack-crack_ as they launched a barrage of rounds into operations, the projectiles cutting through the air like swarms of angry locusts. Shouts and cries of alarm rang out, and Liao ducked behind her console for cover, clasping her hands over her ears to quiet the terrible din.

The barrage abated and Liao broke cover, aiming her pistol at the doorway. Although the Toralii had not stepped through, aside from the ones who lay broken and pinned to the floor, she could see they had an excellent firing solution to almost all of the room. She fired off the last of the rounds in her magazine, unsure if she'd hit anything, and then ducked back behind cover.

Liao thumbed the magazine release of her pistol, letting the depleted clip fall to the deck with a clatter. Reaching behind her, she yanked out the first of her spare clips and loaded it into the magazine slot, and then flicked the slide release and let the weapon push the first round into the breech with a _click_. Instinctively—an instinct created by years of training—she glanced to see that the safety was off.

More gunfire from the human defenders reached her ears. Liao risked a peek over the top of the command console, only to be greeted by a withering barrage of Toralii fire, which tore gouges out of the console she was hiding behind. Ducking back, Liao glanced over at Rowe, whom she saw crouched in fear behind her chair. Judging by the absence of brass shells around her, Liao doubted she'd fired her weapon at all.

"Summer! Summer, you have to return fire... Give me a little cover, so I can lay some heat down on the Toralii!"

The redhead stared at her with wild, frightened eyes. Her hands were shaking so much that Liao doubted she could hit anything if she tried. "I—I can't! I can't! There's too much, too many bullets or whatever, fuck! Fucking fuck!"

Liao swore and then called out across operations. "Saara! Saara, can you hear me?"

["Yes, Captain!"] Saara's words were partially cut off by the noise of another spray of fire from the Toralii soldiers. Once it died down, she continued, ["...What are your orders, Captain Liao?"]

Before Liao could answer, there were shouts, angry and confused, from the Toralii outside. ["Who speaks our language? Identify yourself!"]

Saara's voice boomed in the cramped operations room. ["I am Airmaiden Saara of the Telvan, and these humans are in my care! Withdraw immediately!"]

A low, vicious chuckle echoed throughout the corridor beyond operations, amplified by some kind of device. Liao recognized the voice as Warbringer Avaran, the commander of the ship they had attacked. The voice, judging by the strained, tinny quality it had, was clearly a transmission being relayed through some kind of speaker. Liao wondered if the Toralii commander was listening to the battle remotely.

["What a poor decision to side with the aliens, Airmaiden. The Telvan always were filthy cowards and bleeding hearts; there are reasons they only undertake surveillance and scouting. They lack the fire of true warriors. I should not be surprised to hear that one of their members has betrayed their own people."]

Liao called out from behind her console. "You're still outnumbered, Avaran! We have two more ships in the surrounding space, and soon they'll be close enough to target your vessel without hitting our own. Surrender now, and we'll make sure that you are treated properly!"

Saara repeated Liao's terms in the Toralii dialect that Avaran spoke. The instant she finished, an amused, dismissive laugh filtered into operations, the Toralii commander clearly not even considering the option.

["Amusing, but... predictably... we will decline. My vessel is more than a match for three of your primitive ships. The only reason we're here is to capture _you_ , Commander Liao, and force you to watch as we annihilate your species from orbit."]

There was another low chuckle, as though Warbringer Avaran was enjoying some kind of perverse joke at their expense. ["I must say, it is one of the true pleasures in life... watching the light die in the eyes of those who fancy themselves equal to the Toralii Alliance as their whole world crumbles into ashes. Everything they knew, everything they dreamed of, their hopes and desires and ambitions, all laid waste in a matter of hours. _This_ , Commander Liao, will be your fate, much as it has been the fate of so many others before you. Your precious... Earth... will soon be nothing but the shattered remnants of your various civilizations, having no more life than the most barren of moons. Then, one by one, we will execute your crew, and then..."]

Avaran gave a dramatic pause for effect, and Liao was reminded, once again, that she _hated_ dramatic pauses.

["And then you, Commander Liao... captain of the ship you call the _Beijing_ , will die. You will be the last human alive; you will witness the end of your people. And in those moments, those final few seconds when you alone stand as an example of your species, you will realize that it was _you_ that brought humanity to destruction. That everything that happened to your people was _your_ fault. This will be your dying thought as I drive my blade through your heart."]

Rowe, somehow managing a weak smile, called out to Liao. "He sure loves to talk, doesn't he?"

Despite the gravity of their situation, Liao couldn't help but chuckle. "He certainly does prattle on a bit. Just imagine if he was here in person."

There was a pause as, presumably, the Toralii commander issued orders to his soldiers. Then came a low whine, similar to the cutting device used to melt in the door. Liao, again, risked a peek over the console.

The Toralii were gone.

Frowning, she stood up, glancing around the room. As she did so, the last of her magazines caught on the edge of the command console, snagged, and fell out of the back of her pants with a clatter. Giving an exasperated sigh, Liao continued her survey of the room. She could hear the whining but couldn't see any sign of the Toralii except the dead intruders still firmly stuck to the floor just outside the doorway. Shaking her head in confusion—she refused to believe the Toralii had just turned around and left—Liao bent back down behind the console to retrieve her magazine, an action which saved her life as a massive explosion blew out one whole side of the room, showering white-hot sparks of metal all over the room like a swarm of angry fireflies.

Even behind the console, she was blown over backwards by the concussive force. For a moment, Liao lay stunned as she saw the heavy metal boots of the six remaining members of the Toralii boarding party storm into the room. The suits of five of them were coloured completely red, the rust colour she had seen the others clad in, and one wore white.

_Crack-crack-crack_ went the Toralii rifles, white flashes of light signalling their shots as they cut a bloody path through the stunned operations crew, and Liao struggled back into a kneeling position. Still feeling dizzy, her mind clouded by the pain of her fall, she fired off another couple of rounds at the nearest Toralii. Most of the shots were deflected by the heavy suit of steel space armour he wore, but one bullet hit the invader square on the reflective visor and found its way through. The neat little hole it left, just to the left of the centre, seemed like such a tiny thing, but it was enough to bring the red-suited Toralii crashing limply to the deck of the operations room, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.

Now there were five.

Her actions seemed to have a rallying effect. Jiang and Dao broke cover together and opened fire on the closest Toralii, but despite several good hits, his red armour seemed to stop most of it. The Toralii raised his rifle and, with a single shot to each of them, blasted both crewmen back to the deck.

His grim work complete, the Toralii soldier reached out for a console to steady himself, but Liao lined up her pistol to his leg and squeezed. The limb presented a difficult but tantalizing target; generally speaking, joints were hard to protect. Fortunately for her, although most of the shots went wide or bounced off the red-clad armour, one found purchase on his knee joint—with a howl of pain, the Toralii toppled over near where Saara was crouched. Thinking quickly, the Toralii woman gave him two shots in the visor, and as Liao went to reload, his body went limp. Just to make sure, Liao fired at the prone Toralii until her clip was out of ammunition.

Then there were four.

Liao jammed her last magazine into her pistol, watching as Saara picked up the fallen Toralii's rifle and shouldered it. Her Toralii friend broke cover, firing rapidly but accurately. The weapon seemed to have a much more pronounced effect than their puny handguns, and Liao was relieved to see others having success; she watched as Saara's rounds blew out the chest of one of the Toralii and then sent a second sprawling with a wound to the shoulder.

And then, with only one red- and one white-armoured Toralii marine remaining, their luck changed. The red-suited Toralii fired twice, and Saara was flung back against her console in a spray of purple blood, groaning in pain as her legs collapsed beneath her. Then, with a faint hiss, the Toralii slumped to the deck.

"SAARA!"

Screaming in anger and rage, Liao opened up on the red-suited invader, emptying her last magazine directly into the Toralii, her very last round slipping between the armoured plates near his neck and knocking him back against Jiang's blood-splattered console.

With no more ammunition, Liao absently tossed her useless pistol away. She wasn't sure why, but she reached out for the long-range communications headset, slipping it over her head. Immediately, Matthew's voice echoed in her ear, his thick Australian accent calm and collected. "— _eijing_ , this is _Sydney_ actual, report status, over."

Hearing footsteps and looking up, Liao found herself staring down the barrel of the white-suited Toralii soldier's rifle, the gun only inches away from her bloodied face.

["Go on,"] spoke the Toralii, reaching up with a hand and pressing a button to the side of his visor, causing the thick glass-like substance to liquefy and disappear. Now his face was visible... a face that held a mixture of rage, contempt, and the thrill of victory. ["Go... give your report. Tell your comrades on the _Sydney_ that the great Commander Liao is down and bloodied, her crew dead and her ship in ruins. Tell them that you are _beaten._ "]

"You understand English? You're... listening to our transmissions?"

["Evidently. Now... _tell them_."]

Slowly reaching up to the talk key, Liao depressed it, feeling wet blood slowly trickling down her head.

" _Sydney_ , this is _Beijing_ actual." She gave a low, mirthless chuckle, shaking her head, hearing her own words repeated back to her from inside the white-armoured Toralii's helmet. "Believe me... you don't want to know."

The Toralii jabbed the rifle barrel towards her, splitting her lip and causing her to grunt. ["I said, tell them you're _beaten_! Obey me, insect!"]

" _Fuck_ you."

Lowering his weapon slightly, the Toralii pressed the barrel to Liao's shoulder and pulled the trigger.

White-hot pain sprang from the wound, and Liao fell back against the deck, crying out in pain. She curled up in a ball as blood poured from the injury, clutching her shoulder so hard her fingernails dug into her skin and her eyes closed tight.

["Worm! _Less than nothing_! You _will_ tell them how Varsian the Immortal cut down your crew like a scythe through grass! You _will_ tell them how you _begged_ for death, about how you pleaded for your pathetic life as—"]

"HEY!" came a shout from behind the Toralii soldier. Liao's eyes flew open, looking up in time to see a flurry of red hair. The white-suited Toralii man twisted around and raised his rifle, but then there was a sickening _splat,_ and he dropped it, his hands moving up to his face as he howled in pain. The Toralii staggered backwards, rifle clattering to the floor, clutching his face...

...with Summer Rowe's pen firmly lodged in his left eye.

Leaping forward, Rowe snatched up the Toralii's fallen weapon, raising it up and pressing it directly to the Toralii's white-armoured chest.

"Bangarang, _motherfucker_."

She pulled the trigger. With a white flash and a spray of blood and broken metal, the last of the Toralii collapsed against the _Beijing_ 's deck. Blood pooled out from his wound. Varsian seemed to be staring directly at Liao, lips trembling slightly as the light in his remarkably feline eyes slowly faded.

Rowe dropped the weapon, moving to Liao's side.

"Holy _shit_ , Captain! You're shot. You're shot... can I help—"

Coughing and wincing from pain, Liao shook her head. " _No!_ No... I'm fine, I'm fine... help Jiang, Dao, Saara... help them... get Doctor Saeed up here!"

Although Liao could sense her hesitation and she knew her wound was serious, she watched Rowe move away from her, rolling Jiang's crumpled form onto her side and applying pressure to the woman's wounds. Dao, groaning feebly, gave a wet, hacking cough, blood trickling from the side of his lips.

She vaguely heard Rowe call Doctor Saeed, but she found it hard to pay attention.

The headset crackled to life once again. She had forgotten she was wearing it. Knight's voice once again spoke to her.

" _Sydney_ to _Beijing_ , _Tehran_ ; the Toralii vessel is disengaging from the _Beijing_ and moving into a firing solution! _Beijing_ , you have got to move, you're a sitting duck!"

Liao blinked, the wooziness returning twice over, probably due to the blood loss and shock of her wounds. She stared directly up at the ceiling, her blood pouring out onto the deck as she reached up and pressed the talk key on the left earpiece.

" _Beijing_ to _Sydney, Tehran_... this is _Beijing_ actual. Most sincere apologies, Captain, but we won't be able to manoeuvre at this stage. The boarders have been repelled, but most of the operations crew are fucked. Our engines are _fucked_. Our electronics and optics are _fucked_."

" _Tehran_ to _Sydney_ , this is Captain James Grégoire... I got this one. Just get clear; I'm going to take care of it."

Liao, despite it all, could not fight the warm smile that spread over her face. Grégoire's cockiness was inspiring, despite the hopelessness of their situation. It was just like him to make a stupid joke when everything was hopeless.

"Oh, you've got this one, do you?" she asked into the microphone, by now completely disregarding radio protocol. The world itself seemed to be getting dimmer and more distant as her blood spread below her like a dark, rust-coloured stain. Rolling her head to the right, she saw Saara's crumpled form lying sprawled on the deck, her lifeblood blooming like a sanguine flower from her various wounds and slowly spreading over the bare metal of the ship's floor.

"Mmm... see, I've got a plan. Do you remember that story I told you, back when we were in Sydney? Right before the attacks, the one about _War of the Worlds_?"

"Uh... yeah. Something about a _Thunder Child_." A small smile graced her lips, recalling the memory. "I still haven't read it."

Suddenly, the memory came back to Liao as if illuminated by the light of a firework in the night sky; James and his crew had sunk an American aircraft carrier by breaking the rules of the contest, by...

The sharp knife of panic began to cut through the dull fog of her barely functional mind, fear building within her. Surely she was wrong. "James? James, what's happening? What are you doing?"

Grégoire chuckled into her ear, his voice with a strange edge to it. "Well, I got the propulsion and guidance systems up and working, but the only weapon we have left is the ship itself."

There was a moment of dull shock as Liao processed what he was going to do.

"James... James, listen to me, okay? Look... let the _Sydney_ take care of it, just focus on saving your crew, on saving yourself—"

James cut her off. "There's _no time_. The Toralii are almost in a firing solution. Besides, manoeuvring is shot, by now I can't change course even if I wanted to."

"James... no, James, no... you have to change your heading. You have to reverse or move out of the way. There must be _some_ other way! Let me talk to Knight; the _Sydney_ can help. They're not far away. There's enough time... there's enough—"

"I'm sorry, Melissa. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never got to give you everything you wanted or to tell you how I really felt... but this is the only way. The Toralii are too strong."

"James, don't do this... _please_ , I—"

"I'm sorry Melissa; it's the only—"

The line went dead, and the rumble of an intense shock wave passed over the _Beijing_ , rattling the debris and causing Liao to tumble onto her side, her wounds tearing from the violent motion. Fighting the simultaneous urges to scream in agony and to pass out, Liao fumbled for the talk key.

"Knight! Captain Matthew Knight, report!"

There was no answer. Growling in frustration, Liao pressed the talk key several times, an action which transmitted an annoying series of clicks to anyone who was listening on the line. It was a dick move, but she wanted to be heard.

"This is _Beijing_ actual; whoever is listening to this transmission, I want Captain Knight of the _TFR Sydney_ to report status _immediately_!"

For a moment, nothing came through, and then the soft crackle of an incoming signal. Knight's voice, strained and soft, filtered through the earpiece of the long-range communications headset, his tone far more telling than his words.

"There's nothing _to_ report. The _Tehran_ went straight in, Commander... straight in. They rammed the Toralii warship right in its midsection."

Liao's chest clenched, and she squeezed the talk key so hard the plastic creaked. Her words were slurred, and she had to fight to keep herself coherent, to keep her thoughts ordered enough to give orders. Even though Knight was a full captain and she only a Commander, the _Beijing_ was the de facto flagship. She doubted anyone would question them at this point.

"Understood. Instruct strike fighters to begin immediate search and rescue operations. Have the crews cut their way into the hull and start—"

" _Commander_ , I... I'm sorry, I wasn't clear. There's _nothing_ left. Both ships are _gone_. There's not even debris left. There's just... _nothing_."

"B-But..."

"I'm sorry, Commander... but he's _gone_."

Liao would have argued the point, would have screamed and cried and yelled and refused to accept reality as she was occasionally inclined to do, would have thrown herself into finding James and dragging him back to her ship alive and well... but between Knight's words, her numerous wounds, and the sudden, searing pain in her heart... the human body could only stand so much.

She had lost too much blood and the injury to her head was almost certainly a concussion. Liao tried to keep her mind focused, tried to summon up the mental and physical strength to continue, but it was futile. There was, she knew, a certain line that no human can ignore. Some limits could not be exceeded; the human body eventually demanded you stop, demanded you rest lest the healing process have no chance at all.

It was a line she finally crossed. Liao felt the world go grey and then black... and then she felt nothing at all.

Epilogue

Light

_*****_

_Infirmary_

_TFR_ Beijing

_One day later_

LIGHT.

THE FIRST THING SHE could see was only light, the bright haze of fluorescent globes flooding her eyes. She squinted to try to keep the glare out, tears coming as the eye's instinctive response to the bright light kicked in. Rather than fight the sting, Liao surrendered and let her eyes close completely.

Groggily trying to remember how she got here, Liao wondered if she was drugged. She could feel that her head was heavily bandaged, along with her shoulder. She had woken up like this right after arriving in Canberra, after the attacks on Earth. For a moment, she had to fight down a wave of panic as old memories spoke to her, piercing the sleep-haze she found herself in. With a conscious effort, Liao reminded herself that she was not back under the rubble of the building in Sydney. There was far too much light for that, and the smell of hospital was too strong for it to be a false memory.

Her shoulder was full of pain, and her head throbbed. Forcing her eyes open, Liao saw with blurry vision the brightly lit infirmary of her ship, surrounded by various machines displaying all manner of incomprehensible information. Among the mess of information, she saw a heart rate monitor and noticed her heart rate was higher than anticipated. A moment later, a wave of pain washed over her whole body, so strong she was forced to clench her teeth shut; she wondered why she had not been given morphine, as she had when her hip had been sliced open during the attacks.

Perhaps it was just coming up on another medication period and the pain had woken her up. Determined to find both the answer and something to quell the agony, she tried to sit up, but the sharp, stinging burn deep in her shoulder was far too powerful for that. She fell back against the bed, emitting a soft yelp of pain, which attracted the attention of the nearby doctor.

"Ah, Captain Liao. I'm glad you're awake."

Liao rubbed her heavily bandaged shoulder, giving the Persian man her best smile. "Doctor Saeed, am I glad to see you. Now, drugs. _Gimme_."

The doctor regarded her, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't a little suffering good for the soul?"

Liao groaned. "What happened? All I remember is Summer shooting some Toralii, and I told her, if she discharges a weapon on my ship again I'd _kill_ her... so she's due for a... killing."

Saeed didn't answer the question right away. When he did, he took a deep breath, a sign that someone was about to deliver some bad news.

"The _Sydney_ did a very complete search and, I'm sorry... there's no sign of the _Tehran,_ nor the Toralii ship, aside from some wreckage... but not nearly enough to account for the mass of both ships."

Liao's eyes widened. "Did... did they jump away? How? We had the gravity mines active."

"To be perfectly honest, we're not sure what happened, but we're looking into it. I recommend you hope for the best but expect the worst." He gave a tired, sad chuckle. "Not every hero lives to fight another day. I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes again, sucking in her breath, trying to steady herself. The news was far too much for her to process at the moment, and she filed the potential loss of James away for later. "Okay. What's the good news?"

Saeed gave a sad smile. "I don't recall saying there was any, Captain."

Liao stared at him for a moment. "I guess not." She closed her eyes and took a breath. "What happened to the _Sydney_ after I blacked out? How are they faring? What can you—"

Saeed raised a hand to placate her. "The _Sydney_ is just fine; don't you worry. They're currently guiding us back to the lunar drydock. We'll be there for some time. Basically, every major system is damaged or completely out of action, and there's a lot of work to do to make us spaceworthy again. We're running Rowe off her feet, but... to be honest, I think she's happy for the distraction. The battle shook her up pretty badly. Alex is helping her, emotionally, now that he's out of surgery. These things, things like combat stress reaction, they take time to heal. That's what she needs right now... just time. That and counselling, which I believe she's attending."

The mention of Rowe got Liao's attention. She wanted to ask about the casualty count... about the rest of the operations crew whom she had led into a catastrophic battle. Liao tried to sit up again, but the pain won out; instead, she settled for propping herself up on her elbows. "What happened to Jiang, Ling, Dao... Saara?"

Saeed patted her healthy shoulder. "I'll fill you in later. There's no need to trouble you for the moment. Just rest."

" _No_. They're my crew. I need to know."

Saeed shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Captain. There's a long list of wounded and deceased. To go through them would take more time than I have right now, so I have to insist—"

"I'll pull rank."

Saeed smiled wryly. "Doctor-patient confidentiality. Sorry, I win."

The man put a small injection into her IV, and Liao closed her eyes, expecting the soothing flood of painkillers to come and take her pain away... and was fairly chagrined when it did not.

"That's just an antibiotic," Saeed explained. "I'm afraid we can't give you heavy drugs in your condition."

Liao stared at him curiously. She instinctively reached up for her shoulder with her good hand, rubbing it slightly. "What do you mean?"

Saeed frowned, cocking his head. "I... I merely assumed you already knew. You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Perhaps it's just the concussion, but... no. I have no idea." A surge of panic ran through her. "It's my shoulder, isn't it? I'm going to get invalided out. You're going to recommend me for discharge."

Whatever wound she had obtained, she knew if Saeed was making a fuss, it might be serious enough to end her career. Military fitness tests could be particularly brutal; if she couldn't do a certain amount of push-ups, it wouldn't matter how good she was at being a commanding officer. She would be out. An honourable discharge, yes, and one where they would pin your chest with dozens of medals and honour your name but still kick you out to go die on a farm somewhere.

That was no life for her. She would do whatever it took to get herself fit enough to serve again. This ship was her home, and the crew was her family. They had come through so much together, so much pain and agony and loss, that to leave them alone was entirely inconceivable.

Liao's mind whirled. She would try experimental surgery, perhaps seek a special exception. Was it muscle or ligament damage? There might be a way to repair it if she was prepared to go through the physiotherapy required. It would be painful, yes, extraordinarily so, but she was prepared to do it.

Doctor Saeed smiled warmly, reaching down and patting her on her heavily bandaged shoulder. Liao thought for a moment that it might hurt, but the bandages were thick enough to prevent pain.

"No, it's not your shoulder."

There was a pause as Saeed regarded her, the corners of his mouth curling up in a friendly, warm smile.

"You're pregnant."

_To Be Continued in_ Lacuna: The Sands of Karathi _..._

The Lacunaverse

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