Lacuna: The Sands of Karathi (16 page)

There were limits to how far the weapon could be accurately aimed when faced with a moving target, however. Against a stationary target, their weapon could very well reach across the solar system, but the Toralii warships had proven themselves remarkably nimble.

Liao looked at Peng, her tone dispassionate and even. “How long until our team on the surface returns?”

“Seven minutes, Captain.”

Thirteen minutes. It was more than enough time to retrieve their crew and escape.

Liao gestured to Kamal. “Commander, retrieve our strike craft and prepare the ship to jump. As soon as our people are on board, we are out of here.”

“Yes, Captain.” The man stepped away, calling orders out across the room. Liao went to assist, but another voice caught her attention.

“Captain Liao, the hostile strike craft—they’ve changed course,” Ling said.

Liao frowned. “What’s their current vector?”

“They’re… they’re moving towards the Broadsword and her escorts.”

Liao swore softly and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Summer’s ashen face turn to look at her. Unable to spare her a glance, Liao stepped over to Ling’s console, her hand on the back of his chair.

“Time to intercept, Mister Ling?”

“Four minutes, Captain.”

Four minutes. A lot could happen in four minutes. Against one of these ships, the
Sydney
and the
Beijing
had suffered heavy damage, and the
Tehran
had ended the battle by ramming it. That was with surface batteries for support and home field advantage.

Now it was just the
Beijing
, alone and deep in hostile territory.

“Mister Peng, scramble all our strike craft and gunships. Instruct them to escort our wayward birds all the way in. Give them whatever fire support we can. Mister Dao, set in an intercept course. We’ll meet them halfway.”

There was a tense moment where the
Beijing
’s strike craft and the Toralii vessel’s ships raced to meet the returning Broadsword. Liao glanced over to Summer’s console. The redhead was staring at the radar screen, nibbling on her lower lip. They all felt the same way.

Liao watched the radar screen as the swarm of dots that was their strike craft raced towards the hostile contacts.

Ling spoke up. “The radar signals have merged, Captain. They’re engaged.”

There was nothing they could do—they were too distant for fire support—except
push their engines to the limit, trying to reach the fighters without overshooting. Liao straightened her shoulders, nodding to her communications officer. “Mister Hsin, patch us into the strike group’s communications.”

The voices of the strike group pilots filled the cramped Operations room. Liao recognized the energetic but clear Israeli-accented voice of Alex.

“Predator, Jazz – we’re engaged defensive over here! Six contacts, bearing one sixty by zero eight four. Butcher is covering
Switchblade
while I run interference.”

“Jazz they’re firing again.
Break left!”

Liao studied the radar screen as much as she was able, but it was just a sea of signals with no clear identification who was friend or foe. She had to extrapolate what she could from the jumbled fragments of conversation she was hearing.

“
Switchblade
,
this is Predator.
Splash one!”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through her. Their new strike craft were providing effective cover for the Broadsword; a glance at the long-range radar screen showed that the
Beijing
would reach the Broadsword before the unidentified Toralii cruiser.

“Butcher,
Switchblade
; splash two. Defensive screen engaged. All gunners report contact.”

The Broadsword gunships were essentially squat armoured boxes covered in heavy cannon turrets with engines stuck on the end. Aside from surface landings and tactical deployment of Marines, they were designed to protect the main ship and provide fire support against overwhelming opposition.

In short, they were fighting in their element. The combat devolved into snippets of disconnected dialogue, which Liao tried in vain to follow.

“Jigsaw, Butcher–missiles away.”

“This is Jazz.
Splash three!”

“Damnit, I can’t shake him!”

“Too close for missiles–I’m moving to cannons.”

“
Fuck
, he nearly flew into me!”

“I got him–no, wait, I lost him. Jazz, look out behind you! Seven o’clock high, coming in fast!”

Then, above the noise, a panicked shout came over the radio. “
Switchblade, Switchblade
, this is Predator–Jazz is hit!”

Liao reached down and put the short-range communication headset over her ears and thumbed the talk key. “Predator,
Beijing
actual. Report status of Major Aharoni.”

The voice of an unknown pilot, another Israeli, shouted in her ear so loudly she nearly yanked the headpiece off.

“Jazz is hit–he’s hit bad! Smoke is pouring from his starboard thruster and he’s in a dead spin, floating out of the combat. His Wasp is venting atmosphere!”

Liao squeezed the talk key. “Major Aharoni, this is
Beijing
actual. Report status immediately.”

There was a split second of absolute silence, and Liao’s eyes met Summer’s, her face drained of colour. She stood up from her console on shaky legs, halfway between her seat and Liao.

“This is Jazz.” Alex’s dazed, groggy voice came faintly through the radio. “They got me good, Captain. No lateral thrusters, no reactionless drive. Venting atmosphere like a bitch.”

Summer exhaled, looking for a moment as though she would fall over. Many voices followed the report.

“Jazz, eject, eject, eject!”

“Alex, punch out! You’re on fire!”

“Flight Lead, flames are moving up your starboard side, bail out!”

“
Beijing
, this is Predator. Major Aharoni has ejected. He’s clear. Vitals are clean, no breaches in his suit.”

Summer let out a joyous shout, pumping her fist in the air. From around Operations, the mood immediately brightened with soft cheers, fists thumped on consoles, laughter, and congratulations.

But not from Liao.

Kamal moved beside her, gesturing to Peng. “Mister Peng,” he said, “dispatch search and rescue immediately–get our SAR Broadsword to our pilot’s location.”

Liao didn’t wait for Peng to reply to Kamal. “Mister Peng, assuming our current course is held, time until the
Beijing
is within weapons range of the Toralii cruiser?”

Peng, confused, shook his head. “Six minutes, but—”

“Time to dispatch the SAR bird, retrieve our pilot, and return to the
Beijing
?”

Suddenly,
the meaning of her words became clear, and a hush fell over the room.

“Ten
minutes, ma’am. At best speed and assuming nothing goes wrong.”

Four minutes. If they stayed, the Toralii would have at least four minutes to fire on the
Beijing
. He was a tough ship, but the amount of damage those cruisers could bring to bear was staggering. Liao stood, hands on her hips, taking a breath then slowly letting it out. She looked at Kamal, who merely returned her stare. They both knew what the rational choice was.

Summer took a step forward. “Captain, you’re not seriously
considering—”

Liao turned her gaze towards
the engineer. “I’m considering nothing. There’s no other choice to be made here. We’ve got no time.”

The triumphant jubilation Summer had displayed moments ago melted away. Liao could see the colour drain from her face. She held her hands out, and they shook slightly.

“C-Captain, please.
He’s
still alive
.”

“I know.”

“If you leave him here, the Toralii will take him captive.
They’ll make him their prisoner. You know what Ben said.
They’ll torture him!”

“I know, Summer.” Liao narrowed her eyes at the redhead. “I am acutely
aware of what the Toralii Alliance does to its prisoners.”

Kamal handed her the internal communications headset. “Captain, I have the SAR Broadsword
Archangel
on the line. They are requesting to speak to you directly.”

She cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. The short-range communications set was removed and the internal one put in its place.

“This is Liao, I’m kind of busy at the moment, gentlemen. Make it fast.”

Surprisingly, the voice that came back was female. Liao was not aware she had any female pilots. They must have come onboard with the Broadswords. She felt a sudden sting of guilt that she had not met them yet.

“Copy that, Captain Liao. This is Lieutenant First Class Medola. Ma’am, my crew and I request permission to launch, execute a hot extraction, and retrieve Major Alex Aharoni.”

She admired their tenacity. “You understand, Lieutenant, that the situation is extremely perilous and your recovery may be difficult? Even if the pilot is still alive, a fact we have not yet confirmed.”

The reply was immediate. “Affirmative, Captain.”

“And you understand that I cannot risk my ship for a single pilot
or even a single gunship. If the
Beijing
is in peril, I will be forced to withdraw to the Lagrange point and execute an emergency jump. You understand this?”

Again, there was no delay. “Understood.”

“And you understand that in that very likely event, your recovery will be impossible?”

The pilot’s voice became agitated. “We’re wasting time, Captain. My crew and I know the risks,
but we
never
leave a man behind.”

“Standby.”

Summer, her freckled face streaked with tears, clutched her hands together in front of her… “Captain, please!
”

Liao reached into her breast pocket, her hand seeking the key that would form one half of the authorization to activate the ship’s jump system. Kamal had the other. She closed her fingers around the cool metal, a fingernail tracing along the indentations of its grooves.

How foolish Summer was to risk everything, her life, the ship, the crew, and ultimately humanity’s prospects of survival, just so she could rescue one man whom, in all probability, was already dead. A man whom she cared for, to whom she had never gotten the chance to really say goodbye, and someone she dearly wanted to hold in her arms again. Even if it meant abject grovelling in front of everyone who knew her. Even if it meant putting her life in very real danger for the chance–the mere
chance
–to save him.

If they launched the rescue mission, there was a good chance Alex wouldn't make it, or that he wouldn't have a ship to come back to. But even with those thoughts playing in her mind, Liao knew firsthand how important it was to have hope. She removed her hand from her pocket and touched the talk key.

“
Archangel
, your mission is a
go. You have ten minutes
and not one second more. Godspeed.”

She closed the connection, and the Operations room leapt into a buzz of activity.

Summer stumbled forward, her face streaked with tears as she grabbed Liao’s arm.

“Thank you, Captain. Thank you, thank you,
thank you
.”

Liao turned to the radar screen on her command console, watching the dozens of tiny dots swarm around each other like angry bees, all following the lead Broadsword, which shot towards the
Beijing
, carrying the parts they needed to launch their rescue of James. Beyond that, the looming spectre of the Toralii cruiser grew closer and closer, a large red circle representing their estimated effective weapons range creeping towards the
Beijing
with alarming speed.

Liao had no tricks up her sleeve. She had seen how rapidly a cruiser had casually defeated all three Pillars of the Earth, but now the
Beijing
was facing one alone. The mission seemed impossibly foolish, even suicidal. In four minutes, the Toralii ship would utterly annihilate them.

“Don’t thank me just
yet.”

Chapter VIII

“
Trust”

Operations

TFR Beijing

Near Velsharn Research Facility

Toralii Space

Liao leaned over her console, her fingers gripping the metal so tightly it hurt.

“Commander Iraj, have the Marines escort Ben up here and get Saara on deck. I want to see what they can tell us.”

There was a tense wait as the Toralii cruiser drew closer.
The Broadsword
Archangel
raced away from them, and
Switchblade
flew closer, the Toralii strike craft in hot pursuit. The Broadsword turned on its axis and began accelerating in the same direction the
Beijing
was moving; it was standard procedure to ensure they docked inside the
Beijing
’
s fighter bay instead of splattering against his hull.

The clicking of claws on metal alerted Liao to Ben’s presence behind her. “You called for me, Captain?” asked the thin, robotic, heavy British accent.

Liao turned around, putting her hands on her hips and nodding to the large robot who seemed cramped in the already tight confines of the Operations room.

“Yes, thank you for being so prompt. I need your help. Our expedition was retrieving the parts from Karathi when a Toralii cruiser jumped into the system. One of our pilots was forced to eject and we are going to hold it off until he can be rescued. Can you give me any information on Toralii cruisers? Any specific weaknesses?"

Ben did not answer immediately.
All of his optics were fixed on Liao, lenses widening in shock. He clicked his claws nervously. “Is this a test? A test of loyalty, where you ask me to help you fight an imaginary ship?”

Liao grimaced. “I’m afraid not. That ship is very real. We need to know their weaknesses so we can fight them, recover our lost pilot, then get the hell out of here.”

Ben raised his claws in a helpless shrug. “They
have
no weaknesses, Captain. They’re two hundred thousand tonnes of unfeeling death—cold and unsympathetic, built for one purpose and one purpose only; To emerge victorious from every battle. They have no weak spots, no vulnerabilities. The Toralii have used them to fight–and win–thousands of skirmishes for hundreds of years against dozens of species in countless scenarios. They are the pinnacle of Toralii war-fighting capability.”