Victory?
*****
Cerberus Blockade
Lagrange point between Mars and Phobos
Hours Later
LIEUTENANT BAI PENG PREFERRED HIS new post as chief tactical officer aboard the Cerberus blockade to service on the Beijing and counted himself lucky that he’d been able to keep the same position on the space station.
The Cerberus blockade was the only open jump point in the entire Sol system. At every other point, gravity generators powered by micronuclear reactors generated fluctuating pulses of gravity to constantly shift the Lagrange points. With that interference repositioning their location so rapidly and so randomly, no vessel could safely jump into them. In order to secure entry and egress from the system, aside from the far-out regions near Pluto, one had to come through Cerberus.
Cerberus was home to nearly thirty heavy gun batteries, one hundred fifty nuke batteries, two wings of fighters and Broadswords, and three gargantuan rail guns on giant pivot turrets in case larger ships jumped in. These gave it firepower equal to two Pillars of the Earth, all focused on one area. Furthermore, a ring of gravity mines meant that if a hostile vessel were to enter, the jump point could be locked out until it was destroyed to prevent reinforcements.
It was safe, secure, but an important position. Perfect for him.
“So Bai,” said Yvonne Walker, the strawberry-blonde Australian communications officer who shared his shift, “I heard a rumour that the Kel-Voranians pulled their embassy.”
Peng swivelled in his chair. “You serious? The one in Melbourne?”
“Yeah, caught it on the fleetwide this morning. That’s what Bravo-seven-eight was about.”
Bravo-seven-eight was the Task Force Resolution code name for a Kel-Voran ship that had appeared in the jump point nearly eight hours ago, identifying itself as the B’vall. It had requested entry to the Sol system for diplomatic business. Since the Kel-Voran were normally allies of the humans, this request was granted. The jump point between Earth and the Moon was enabled temporarily for the ship to jump. Peng and Walker had tracked the B’vall as it landed on Earth, escorted by some of the planet’s Broadswords. Hours later, it returned to space, flew to the Earth-Moon Lagrange point, and requested exit from the system. With clearance granted, the gravity generators were briefly turned off, and the ship had jumped away.
“Well, that’s a bit ominous, don’t you think?” Peng said.
Walker shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe they just decided on a change of scenery, or maybe it’s a political move.”
“Maybe it is; maybe it isn’t.”
“Well, I’m inclined to think some big shit is about to go down.” Walker casually tapped a finger on her console. “I heard they recalled the fleet. Everyone who’s on leave—boom. Cancelled. The Tehran is picking up Captain Liao from Earth, and then they’re coming here to stand watch with us.”
Peng peered sceptically at Walker. For the last ten hours, the Sydney had been docked at the blockade station for system checks on the troubled vessel’s systems, but everyone knew the airlock was sealed and nobody had either come aboard or departed. Rumour was that the ship was on high alert and ready to disengage at a moment’s notice.
“Really?” said Peng. “They’re going to have both the Sydney and the Tehran guarding the jump point in addition to all this crap?”
“Yep.”
He laughed. “You’re mental if you think Fleet Command is so fucking shit-scared that they’re going to dedicate two-thirds of the fleet to guarding the jump point. How can we perform any operations if we do? That’d mean there’s only the Beijing and the Rubens out there.”
“Ooh, careful, careful. We’re not meant to be talking about the Rubens.”
Peng rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows about it,” he countered. “It’s not like it’s a huge secret. We’ve had them dock here dozens of times.”
“Yeah, I know, still. Orders are orders, and those orders say that there’s no such thing as the Rubens.”
“Right.” Peng clicked his tongue. “We can’t talk about something everybody fucking kn—”
The triple-beep of a loud alarm cut him off, followed by a cry from the radar operator.
“Incoming jump! A vessel has appeared in the Lagrange point!”
Nothing was on the schedule for that day. The station shuddered as the shockwave from the jump passed over them. The Commanding Officer, Iranian Captain Lale Harandi, stepped towards Peng’s screen. “Move to condition one and sound general quarters. Report, Mister Peng.”
Peng’s screen flashed information at him. He scanned over what the readings were telling him.
“No IFF transponder detected, Captain. Vessel is two hundred thousand tonnes, bright appearance on thermals, identical in size and configuration to a Toralii cruiser. No sign of strike craft.”
Harandi’s response was immediate. “All reactors to full power, load missile launch tubes, and prepare to fire. Ready rail guns. Mister Kelly, signal fleet command.”
Peng’s fingers darted over the keyboard. “Tubes one through fifteen ready, Captain, with rail gun turrets alpha through charlie standing by.” A decompression alarm at the airlock drew his attention. “Captain, the Sydney has disengaged from dock without authorisation. They’re moving into an attack position on the contact.”
Captain Harandi just nodded. “Ignore the Sydney for now. What’s the contact doing?”
“Just sitting there, Captain. I’m reading no strike craft, no weapons fire, nothing.”
“Captain,” said Walker, “incoming transmission from the Toralii vessel. Coming in on 121.5 MHz. Recording.”
That channel, 121.5 MHz, was the standard frequency the Toralii used to initiate communication with Human forces. Technically, it was a distress frequency, which made it useful since it was almost always kept clear.
“Play it through the speakers,” Captain Harandi ordered, tapping her fingers on the back of Peng’s chair. “But keep a lock on them. ROE is clear; the moment they fire anything or launch any craft, we nuke them and shut off the jump point until cleanup takes care of the wreckage.”
The speakers crackled slightly, and the operations centre was filled with a thin, robotic voice that spoke in broken, halting English as though being machine translated.
“Attention, Terran type-two outpost. This is Warbringer Avaran of the Toralii Alliance Vessel Seth’arak. Respond on frequency Four. Two. Eight. Point. Six.”
The Seth’arak. Everyone knew the Seth’arak and Warbringer Avaran. It was the first real, straight-out engagement between Humans and the Toralii navy. It ended with the Tehran being crippled and captured by the Toralii, with the Sydney and the Beijing taking severe damage.
The message repeated. Captain Harandi nodded to Walker. “Open a channel on that frequency. Let’s talk to them.”
Walker changed the frequency. “Four two eight point six, Captain. Open in three, two, one…”
Silence.
“This is Captain Harandi of Cerberus Station, acting under Task Force Resolution. You are in violation of the Sol system’s sovereignty. Engage your jump drive and leave this system, or you will be destroyed. No further warnings will be issued on any frequency.”
[“This is Warbringer Avaran.”] The voice spoke Toralii and was heavy and slow, as though burdened with some great task. [“On behalf of the Toralii Alliance, we have come to negotiate a cease-fire between our peoples.”]
The operations room was filled with a shocked silence. Harandi gestured for Walker to mute the audio.
She tapped a key. “Audio off, Captain.”
Peng turned in his chair, giving voice to what was on everyone’s mind.
“Does… does this mean we win?”
En route to the Earth-Moon L1 Lagrange point
Two hours later
Liao was glad to finally catch a ride in the Archangel. Technically the search-and-rescue ship for the Beijing, the Archangel had performed a daring move and rescued her CAG, Alex Aharoni, from capture by the Toralii. That incident had weighed on her mind for some time. The rational thing to have done would be leaving a single ejected pilot behind when the entire ship was in danger, but Ben had come up with a solution that had allowed him to be saved. Despite the fact that a few days later Ben had annihilated a colony full of unsuspecting Toralii civilians, Liao still felt a little gratitude for Ben’s part in the rescue.
Ben had saved a life and then taken fifty thousand others. It seemed strange to be grateful to him.
“Do you think there was some credibility to the Toralii threat, then?” Liao asked.
James shrugged. “I don’t know. But they knew about it well before they pulled their embassy, so… why would they wait for months and then withdraw without a word?”
Liao leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “I don’t like it. The Kel-Voran love a fight… For them to just up and leave doesn’t make any sense.”
“They like a fight,” James corrected, “but they dislike grossly unbalanced battles. They’re not suicidal.”
Liao snorted and ran her hands through her hair. “Great. So staying on Earth is suicidal. What a vote of confidence from our new allies.”
James chuckled. “Hopefully, when we rendezvous with the Tehran, they’ll have some damn answers for us.”
The intercom crackled, and the voice of Lieutenant First Class Medola, the navigator and radio operator of the Broadsword Archangel, filled the hold where they were sitting.
“Attention passengers and crew, stand by for jump.”
The proliferation of the reactionless drives had proved to be revolutionary when it came to space travel. When Liao had first assumed her command, it took three days to get to Luna, Earth’s moon, via conventional rocket. These days, a Broadsword could do it in a matter of hours.
She casually clipped on her seat belt, glancing to her side to check for the fifty-thousandth time that her baby was safe. She continued sleeping soundly in her baby seat, secured by a six-point harness, oblivious to the journey taking place around her. She would be the youngest Human in orbit, the youngest Human to experience microgravity, a number of firsts. But her mind was not on any of those things.
The artificial gravity switched off, and Liao felt queasy. Fortunately, James rested his hand on her thigh, and she immediately began to feel a little better. The baby, meanwhile, just gurgled slightly, yawning in her sleep, but otherwise didn’t react.
Without an outside perspective, the jump was imperceptible to those experiencing it aside from a faint hum of energy. Liao, whose normal post was at operations deep within the much larger Beijing, rarely heard that sound. It felt good, in a way, to be closer to the ship’s surface, more in touch with how it moved and sounded.
“Jump complete.”
Gravity slowly returned. After the briefest of pauses, Liao reached down to unclasp her seat belt, but the gunship pitched hard to port, almost throwing her across the cargo bay. She was suddenly very grateful that she hadn’t removed her seat belt. The baby wailed, and Medola’s voice returned, this time charged with energy.
“Contact, twelve o’clock level. All crew, condition one, weapons tight. Prepare for emergency jump.”
Liao and James exchanged a panicked glance and undid their restraints, moving as one to free themselves. Whenever the jump drive was engaged, even a small one as found on the Broadswords, it heated up. As a ship in space was a closed system, the only way to get rid of that excess heat without boiling the crew alive was to let it slowly radiate away. An emergency jump, though, would flush coolant into the jump drive so they could get away sooner. This brute-force approach led to the very real possibility of uneven cooling of the spherical jump drive. If it cracked, even microscopically, this could result in an imprecise jump at best and, at worst, the risk of catastrophic failure.
Being at the rear of the craft when the rearward-mounted jump drive exploded would be very bad.
Liao unclipped the baby’s restraints, and, together, the three of them moved forward towards the cockpit, hands on the railings in case the ship pitched again, Liao holding the infant with one arm. When they reached the thick metal hatchway, Liao heard it unlock with a faint click. She pulled it open with her free hand.
“Lieutenant Medola, what the hell is going—”
Through the perspex of the Broadsword’s cockpit, she saw a Toralii cruiser, a ship she recognised as the Seth’arak, docked with the Sydney and surrounded in a swarm of strike craft.
“—on?”
The Broadsword’s radio crackled faintly, and an Australian-accented woman’s voice came over the line. “Broadsword Archangel, this is Cerberus Station. Transmit identification code.”
Medola tapped her console. “Code as follows: bravo-zero-zero-seven-one-xray-oscar-eight-romeo-alpha.”
“Confirming code, break. Confirmed.”
“Cerberus Station, Archangel. Affirmative, break.” Medola lifted the talk key and then twisted in her seat. “You want me to ask them what the hell’s going on, sir?”
Both Liao and James nodded.
“Request sitrep, Cerberus Station. I’m staring at the arse end of a Toralii cruiser that’s really not meant to be here.”
“Broadsword Archangel, Cerberus Station, interrogative. Do you have Captain James Grégoire and Commander Melissa Liao aboard?”
“Affirmative.”
“Archangel, confirmed. You’re cleared to bring Liao and Grégoire aboard the station using the main hangar bay. Be advised, Archangel, situation is as follows: we’re dealing with a diplomatic situation at the moment. The presence of Captain Grégoire and Commander Liao are requested in the main conference room immediately.”
“Roger, Cerberus Station. Out.” Medola closed the line.
“Me?” Liao asked, staring in confusion at James. “What the hell do they want me for?”
Fifteen minutes later
Cerberus Station was a tiny outpost, home to only fifty souls who would take shifts manning the blockade and the Mars colony below them. Finding the single conference room in the facility was easy; Liao and James made their way there straight from the hangar bay, taking the most direct route through cramped corridors full of people all trying to go the same way.
The arrival of the Toralii ship had caused quite a stir. Captain Harandi met them halfway to the room.
“What’s going on?” asked Liao, a question that elicited a shrug from the Persian captain.
“Who knows? He came aboard with his marines. Said he wanted to speak to you and only you. He’s ignored our diplomats and barely said two words to me, just that he wanted to see you.”
Liao frowned. “Me?” She glanced to James. “And I thought I was just here as an adviser.”
“Your reputation precedes you.” Harandi adjusted her green headscarf. “He’s waiting in conference room two.”
“Very well then. I guess we’ll go see what he wants.”
The way became more and more congested as they drew closer.
“Make a hole. Coming through.” James led the charge, clearing the path for Liao, who clutched her baby close. The infant squealed and threatened to cry again, but a few gentle pats on her back brought her to calm once more.
A crewman pulled open the hatchway, and James and Liao stepped through, moving into the long, rectangular room filled to the brim with people.
And Toralii.
Three stood at the back of the room wearing the full-body armoured spacesuits, with empty weapon holsters and gaps in their suits where their inbuilt energy weapons had been removed. The suits were painted black with gold trim, a colour scheme as yet unseen by her. Normal marines wore red, their commanders, white. As with the others, though, their faces were obscured by the strange material that served as a visor, which appeared to be solid but Liao knew was actually some form of liquid held in shape by unknown forces.
However, the Toralii seated before them immediately drew her attention. An older, white-furred Toralii with patches of black streaked with grey sat with his arms neatly resting in his lap. A thick, jagged scar ran down his face, exposing the slightly purplish Toralii skin flushed with their strange purple blood. He was wearing what Liao assumed was the Toralii equivalent of a dress uniform, a lavish, gold affair decorated with silver strips and multicoloured ribbons.
Liao, still cradling her child, gave him a curt nod. “Warbringer Avaran, we finally meet face to face.”
A green light flashed on a metal device attached to his right ear the moment Liao spoke, ceasing when she had finished. As though understanding her completely, Avaran spoke. [“Indeed, but had I known how far your reputation would spread, Captain Liao, perhaps things may have been done differently between our people.”]
Liao pulled back a seat and, somewhat awkwardly with the baby in her arms, slid into it. She was acutely aware of how ridiculous she looked; the Toralii had gone all out on the pomp and ceremony, with their most official clothes and, presumably, elite guards. She was wearing slacks and a baggy T-shirt and carrying around a gurgling infant. James, taking a seat to her left, was at least wearing his standard uniform. Harandi took the seat to her right.
She couldn’t help noticing, though, despite the vast gulf between what the Toralii were wearing and her own appearance, that Warbringer Avaran regarded her with something approaching respect.
“I wish a great many things would be different between our people,” Liao stated. “Although before today, I would have said that the situation had escalated well beyond the point of rational discourse, I’m glad to see that this assessment was in error.”
[“I fail to see how you could be surprised at this turn of events, Captain Liao, Slayer of Varsian the Immortal, when your agents have us so completely overwhelmed and your victories are so total.”]
“Agents?”
Avaran’s eyes narrowed slightly, betraying a hint of aggravation. [“Coy, Captain Liao, but I think at this point, candour would appear to be your best ally. I speak, of course, of your pilfered technology, the ship you stole from us, and of our own weapons turned against us.”]
The Rubens, Liao suddenly realised, the Toralii vessel James had mentioned as being captured and turned over to the Human forces.
“Well, we have been forced to this course of action by the Toralii restriction against jump drive use.”
[“A restriction you have flouted at every turn, to our chagrin. Had the Kel-Voran not resumed hostilities against us, we would have crushed you long ago.”]
“Regrettable for you, then, that they have.”
Avaran gave a terse nod. [“So it would appear, yes.”] He fixed his gaze on her, lowering his voice somewhat as he spoke. [“But we are not here to discuss hypothetical situations, Commander Liao.”]
“To be perfectly honest,” Liao said, “I’m not sure what we are here to discuss, except that the operations of the Rubens are obviously causing you some distress. I fail to see how that’s our problem.”
Avaran’s lips curled up in a strange kind of smile. [“I can understand that feeling, Commander Liao. But the… inconvenience… it has caused has been significant, including the loss of Belthas IV.”]
“It is my understanding that the Rubens has destroyed a grand number of your ships. I am pleased that they appear to have stung you in a tender place. It is, of course, within our power to cease the attacks, but this is not something that we shall do without cost. I’m sure you understand.”
[“Ships?”]
Confused, Liao nodded her head. “Uhh… yes. I assume you’re here to ask us to cease the attacks upon the Toralii supply lines, yes?”
Avaran regarded her, not answering right away. For a moment, Liao thought he was perhaps waiting on the translation hardware to catch up with her or was thinking of exactly the right way to word what he was going to say. The scarred Toralii’s face was unreadable as he studied her, and Liao grew uncomfortable under his continued gaze.
“We are open to negotiations,” she said, trying to keep dialogue open, “and we would prefer peaceful coexistence to our current situation. But we will not surrender our jump drive technology.”
[“I’m not sure we are communicating accurately,”] Avaran said at last, carefully choosing his words and speaking slowly and evenly. [“Whatever operations you are running against Toralii Alliance shipping networks are of absolutely no consequence to the Alliance at all. I am not even aware of any. Between jump mishaps, defection, Kel-Voranian pirates, and countless other hazards which are a part of the inherent dangers of travelling through space, ships are lost every single day. I am not concerned with… whatever schemes you may be executing against our logistical infrastructure or whatever success you may have earned there. I am primarily concerned with Belthas IV, the forge world, and the occupying force currently holding it.”]
Magnet’s force had taken a planet? James had described the repurposed Rubens as being the same configuration as Saara’s original vessel, a small, fighter-carrying scout ship that could hold, at most, five hundred soldiers. The likelihood of them being able to garrison an entire planet seemed extremely low. A subtle glance at James and then Captain Harandi revealed that they wore thinly disguised expressions of confusion.
“I’m… certain we can work out some kind of arrangement. May I confer with my colleagues for a moment while we discuss the matter?”
[“Of course,”] said Avaran, sitting back in his chair. [“I shall remain here.”]
“Very well. Captain Harandi, Captain Grégoire.”
Liao, James, and Harandi stood and made their way out of the room. Liao handed her baby to one of the nearby crewmen, and then the marines cleared the corridor. The three of them formed a huddle, and Harandi spoke first.
“Does anyone have the slightest clue what the fuck he’s talking about?”
James shrugged helplessly. “None. The Rubens’s mission directive was solely to harass shipping and attack targets of opportunity. They have five Wasps, a minelayer Broadsword, and twenty-five marines. The Rubens docked here almost a month ago; there was no indication that they were going to attack any planetary bodies, let alone occupy one. If Magnet pulled this off, it’s got to be some kind of bluff. Maybe it’s a planet like Velsharn, almost entirely uninhabited.”
“Well,” said Liao, “as unlikely as it seems, Avaran appears to be convinced they did attack this Belthas IV and that they’re currently holding it.” She looked at Harandi. “Can you get Magnet on the horn and ask him what the fuck is up? Is there a communications protocol or a way to get in contact with him?”
Harandi shook her head. “That’s difficult. They’re more or less autonomous; the ship jumps around, attacking where it can and retreating. They tend to hide near busy jump points, laying mines and generally making pests of themselves. We’ve got no way of communicating with them, but they are supposed to report in every month. They’re about due.”
Liao mulled that over. When the Beijing had been in space, it was much the same story, a fact she had relied upon at her trial. It was ironic that, now, she could see the disadvantages of being out of touch with the rest of the fleet. While it gave Magnet and his ship autonomy, it meant that coordinating their efforts was more difficult. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is wait until the Rubens docks next and ask.”
“I suppose so.”
“Although,” James said, “that doesn’t exactly help us right now. Whatever’s happened, it seems to have thrown Avaran and the whole Alliance off their feet. I think we should capitalise on this if we can.”
The other two nodded in agreement.
“Right,” said James, “well, let’s see what else we can find out about this planet and what’s happened to it. Maybe this could be the break we’ve been looking for.”
“Agreed.”
Liao took a breath and looked towards the conference room. “Let’s see what we can find out.”
“Apologies for the delay,” Liao said as she resumed her seat. “We obviously have a lot to discuss.”
[“Obviously,”] agreed Avaran, although to Liao, the Toralii seemed less convinced than he had just a moment ago.
“Regarding Belthas IV,” James said, “we are currently out of communication with our agents there, but we can arrange for a message to be sent to them to open a communication line with the fleet. In fact, we may be able to permanently station a diplomat in the region, if this would be agreeable to you.”
[“A diplomatic presence would go a long way to restoring order to this system, yes. The forge world is a vital part of the Alliance’s infrastructure. It is the primary manufacturing facility for the Telvan, and we rely upon it through trade. After our recent losses, we require the forges to be operational and are willing, for now, to discuss a temporary measure to allow the Humans to keep their jump technology.”]
That struck a chord with Liao, something that stood out more than anything else Avaran had said so far. The Telvan that Liao had met on Velsharn seemed more than willing to ally themselves with the Humans and resist the Alliance. Saara was Telvan. It wass well known that they were not part of the Alliance and were, in many respects, considered allies; even after the destruction of Velsharn, efforts had been made to try to bring the Telvan more completely into the fold. The likelihood of Magnet deliberately attacking a Telvan colony, or attacking one in error and holding it long enough for the Alliance to become worried about it, was extremely low.
“Recent losses?”
[“Perhaps you have not heard.”] Avaran shifted slightly on what must have been an extremely uncomfortable chair for his body shape. [“Although this is not unexpected, given the small size of your forces there. They would be, I imagine, unwilling to relinquish control of their prize, even to inform you of their victory.”]
It was the Rubens. Liao kept her eyes on Avaran, forcing herself to appear composed, but inwardly she was struggling to understand how a victory this vast could possibly have occurred.
“In the interest of disclosure, maybe you can enlighten us, then, so that our dialogue can proceed with the best possible information available to both parties.”
The Toralii inhaled slightly as though admitting some great personal failure. [“Last month, the Alliance pooled our forces from many sectors and attempted to reclaim Belthas IV, an operation that failed. Your soldiers and sailors are to be commended, Commander. We have greatly underestimated your kind and your ability to wage war. The Toralii have not suffered a defeat of this kind in hundreds of years. A third of our fleet lies in ruins, annihilated by a single ship, and it will take us decades to rebuild… and a species with such destructive power cannot be our enemy. This is why we are offering your species this amnesty.”]
The silence in the room was palpable, a thick, pervading fog that smothered rational thought. A full third of the Toralii Alliance fleet was enough force to occupy hundreds of star systems along with the spaces in between. This was a cataclysmic disaster for them, and if true, the balance of power in the entire Milky Way galaxy was soon to shift, although in which way nobody could be certain.
That was why the Kel-Voran abandoned Earth, not because they were afraid of a Toralii attack upon her person, but because they were afraid of humans. They did not want to be anywhere near a species who could bring the greatest empire in known space to their knees with a single ship.
But how had they done it?
“Our communication with our ground forces is limited,” Liao lied, “and so no, we had not received this report. The outcome, though, was what we expected.”
[“Of course. The experimental voidwarp devices have long been theorised to be some of the most powerful devices one can own. Their use as a weapon is undeniable. The Telvan have performed amazing advances since they turned the first prototype over to us.”] Avaran gave a bitter chuckle. [“Which, I suppose, explains why you destroyed the facility after you wrestled the device from them. You are wiser and more savage than I had previously given you credit for, Commander.”]
“The facility?” Liao spoke without thinking. “Are you referring to the Velsharn Research Colony?”
Avaran frowned slightly, his scarred face regarding Liao with a mix of curiosity and interest. [“That is the name the local Telvan gave it, yes. Our long-range sensors reported your ship arriving and collecting the device. Its radioactive signature was seen departing that world to test the device, but the ship returned at a later date to destroy the facility, presumably to prevent any more of its kind from being developed. The radiation signature of the unique void was subsequently spotted at Cenar before it too was destroyed, and now at Belthas IV.”]
“Yes, but that wasn’t us that destroyed Velsharn. It was…” Her voice faded away as the terrible realisation dawned. “Ben.”
Avaran raised a fuzzy eye-ridge in confusion. [“Yes. The commander of the vessel that assaulted Belthas IV identified himself by that name, a Human name. Our Forerunner probes intercepted the transmissions made to the surface, but since your vessel landed on the planet, we’ve had no contact with this ‘Ben’ or any other representatives of your forces.”]
Realisation came to her in a sudden wave, like a floodlight being shone in her face, and Liao could think of nothing to say. When Ben had engaged the Beijing’s jump drive and leapt away across the stars, she fully expected that would be the last she would ever see of him. However, it seemed Ben had somehow gathered a ship and the power to occupy a planet, all in a few short months.
She leaned across the desk, her tone becoming quiet. “Warbringer Avaran, the Toralii have a reputation for honesty and integrity, do they not?”
[“You know this to be true.”]
“Then hear this. I do not have a perfect understanding of what has occurred, but Ben is known to me. He is not,” she clarified, “a member of our military, and we do not have any power over him.” Liao leaned back, choosing her words carefully. “But he is… someone I have had significant dealings with, someone with whom I have a certain rapport. I will do whatever is in my power to investigate what has occurred on Belthas IV, and I will, if possible, attempt to find a peaceful resolution on behalf of the Alliance and others.”
Avaran stared at her as though trying to pierce the veil of some elaborate deception she was setting up. She knew admitting that Ben was not a part of their military was giving away their primary bargaining chip, but she was aware of the bigger picture. Ben’s possession of the jump drive had shown where the balance of power would swing to fill the void left by the decimated Toralii fleet.
Towards him.
[“Why would you do this?”]
“I want my people to be left in peace. I want possession of our jump technology to be sanctioned by the Toralii Alliance. I want the hostilities between our people to end. We don’t have to be friends, but we can no longer live at war.”
[“I can promise you none of those things. Not in the long term. But I am empowered to offer you a period of grace wherein your use of the voidwarp technology is sanctioned, as is your passage through Toralii Alliance space towards Belthas IV or anywhere your investigation may lead you aside from occupied worlds.”]
Liao considered for a moment and then nodded. “Very well.” She went to stand. “It is customary, as a sign of goodwill, to shake hands upon the reaching of an accord.”
[“I am familiar with the gesture. We learnt a great deal about your peoples while the crew of the ship you call the Tehran were… guests… at Cenar.”]
James stiffened slightly beside her, and Liao quickly spoke to prevent an incident. “Then this is good.” She stood, moving to the end of the table, and Avaran did the same.
She slid her hand into his massive paw, the two exchanging an amicable, if forced, shake of their hands. Liao was surprised by his size, but also by the sheer strength in his grip. Saara’s hugs could crush her, but her paws were soft and cultured. Avaran’s were rough and calloused, the hands of a warrior.
It seemed odd that, not so long ago, Liao, James, and Avaran had been trying to kill one another in the black gulf of space, but now they were, tentatively at least, working together.
Avaran’s nostrils flared slightly, and Liao caught the gesture.
[“You smell of blood.”]
Liao retracted her hand and, as she did so, saw a red smudge on the underside of her sleeve. A spot of Tai’s blood from the shooting had somehow escaped her efforts to scrub her hands clean and had passed unnoticed on the trip to the station.
“Sorry,” she said, “it’s…”
Tai’s death, the death of the Velsharn colonists, now the death of untold Toralii servicemen at the hands of Ben’s terrible power. Her legacy seemed to be slaughter and devastation, the burial of her friends and enemies alike. Now she had actual blood on her hands, a metaphorical stain turned very literal.
“It’s nothing.”