Reckoning
*****
Military Court Building J
Guangzhou, China
Meanwhile
“THIS COURT MARTIAL HAS NOW come to order.”
Naval Commander Melissa Liao was the last to sit, her hand on her swollen abdomen. Most women found they were fairly mobile right up until delivery, but possibly owing to her age, at six months pregnant, she felt as though iron chains had been laid across her back. Her body strained with the effort of moving, a toll made worse by the knowledge that she had three months of the process left and things were only going to get worse from here on in.
The Honourable Judge Dewei Qu, a portly and serious man with grey hair and an efficient expression, gently rapped his gavel.
“Commander Melissa Liao is charged with dereliction of duty with regard to turning over command of her vessel to a construct, with conduct unbecoming an officer for engaging in and perpetuating a relationship with another commanding officer, and with reckless endangerment of fleet assets. The court will now hear an opening statement from the prosecution.”
The advocate for the prosecution, a well-dressed man whom Liao’s court documents identified as Deshi Fang, stood and opened his briefcase. He removed a small paper-clipped and dog-eared stack of paper and read.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the court, June 18th, 2029, is one date among many that will forever live in infamy. Despite a worldwide economic collapse, the People’s Republic had launched the robotic probes that began the automated construction of our lunar colony; this was the first time our species had established a permanent presence on the moon. Independently but concurrently, the People’s Republic of China, the Islamic Republic of Iran, and the Commonwealth of Australia researched a wondrous new technology called the spatial coordinate re-mapper, or jump drive, which was set to change the future of our species forever. Plans for interstellar vessels were drawn up. The stock market was strengthening. Women and men were starting to come back to work, and galvanised by industry, we began the long road to recovery.”
Fang lowered the piece of paper as though he no longer needed the notes to give his address. “Everyone in this room knows what happened that idle Monday. The Toralii arrived, detecting the jump drive technology through a process that still eludes us. They destroyed the cities of Beijing, Tehran, and Sydney… and then vanished.”
Liao had been in Sydney during the attacks with Summer and James and was almost killed when the building she had been visiting collapsed. She still had a wicked scar on her hip where a steel beam had sliced her open.
“Eight years later, our lunar colony, along with the three vessels constructed there, was complete. Commander Liao was given command of one of the ships built on the lunar colony, the TFR Beijing. She obeyed her orders unquestioningly, and her devotion to her duty was impeccable; Liao was, for a period of almost a year, a shining symbol of hope and triumph against the Toralii. Under her skilled leadership, our ships took to the heavens and scored numerous victories. Although her ship was, on two occasions, significantly damaged, Liao emerged victorious both times—a radiant testament to the power of the Human spirit, of our indomitable courage, an exemplary woman for us all to emulate and admire.”
Fang laid the stack of papers on the desk. Liao could see that it wasn’t notes for his opening address; it was a partial transcript, written in Chinese, of a report Liao herself had authored.
“Or so the official record would have you believe.”
A subtle murmur, shuffling like waves on a pond, rippled through the court. Fang waited until it passed and then continued.
“The reality of war is never perfect. There are no clean battles, no struggles of pure good and evil, and the cackling, moustache-twirling villains are never reliably, righteously, and soundly defeated by plucky heroes. War is a dark, bloody place where the young go to die at the behest of old men, where every single day our soldiers, sailors, and airmen commit acts that, in the civilian world, would not just be criminal but shocking, twisted, and insane. Military commanders are human. No Human is perfect, so the People’s Liberation Army Navyy, as well as mankind as a whole, was not expecting Captain Liao’s command to be perfect.”
The lawyer turned to Liao, their eyes locking, and she held his gaze as he continued. “But we were not expecting her to shoot dead her own XO on the bridge of her lover’s ship. We were not expecting the Beijing to be willingly surrendered to an alien artificial intelligence, leading to the deaths of fifty thousand Toralii of the Telvan faction—a number that represented the only allies that our species had in the entire galaxy. We were not expecting Liao to leap into bed with the commanding officer of the Tehran and then fail to protect herself against the potential consequences. You can follow the footsteps of Liao’s command by following the trail of mistakes she has made, and if you get lost and wander off the scent, just breathe in and follow the stink of our dead.”
Liao felt her fists tighten at her sides, but she kept her gaze even and unyielding. She stared at Fang and he at her, the two engaging in a silent, noncommunicative standoff. Almost everything the man said could be tolerated, but pointing out her sexual relationship with James, and her subsequent pregnancy, in front of the court invoked a primal protectiveness that was difficult to keep restrained. True, the child had been fathered by James, Captain James Grégoire, the CO of the Tehran who spent two months in a Toralii prison. The child had not been planned, but it was a welcome addition to her life, even if it would ultimately cost Liao her command.
Fang returned his attention to the judge, his finger lying over Liao’s report. “The Pillars of the Earth have been a rousing success, the Beijing the foremost among them, but successes have also come from the Sydney and the Tehran. The Tehran’s weapons accounted for double the amount of Toralii tonnage versus the Beijing’s during the attack on the Kor’Vakkar shipyard, while the Sydney’s crew has been working towards forging an alliance with the Kel-Voran Imperium, much to our benefit. We now have allies again, and allies have value… unlike a ship constantly in a shipyard and a captain who can no longer lead.
“The prosecution intends to demonstrate that these outcomes, and others, were the result of Captain Liao’s negligence, with the aim of having her removed from command.” Fang inclined his head respectfully towards the judge. “Thank you, Your Honour.”
He sat. Liao digested his speech. While eloquent and articulate, it contained nothing she had not expected. She anticipated, in fact, a much more malicious and scathing opening; she expected the prosecution to crucify her for her lack of command experience and for being a woman, but neither point had been raised… yet. For this, she was grateful in a strange kind of way.
Her lawyer, Craig Martin, stood to give his own opening presentation. She had declined a lawyer from the People’s Republic, instead seeking one from their allies. She felt she needed to do so. A former Queen’s Council, Martin would be able to defend her in a much more impartial manner than would one of her countrymen; he would be able to point out where she had genuinely erred and would be more open and more honest with her in regard to her failings. Martin had a reputation for being as cold and blunt as stone to both his clients and to the court itself, and this was exactly the kind of man she needed defending her.
“Your Honour, first let me thank you for allowing me to represent Captain Liao in this court. It is a privilege to be here.”
The judge nodded slightly, and Martin continued. “My esteemed colleague, Mister Fang, in many ways articulated my case better than I could, so for that I am grateful. However, he is incorrect regarding one substantial detail; Commander Liao’s actions, while in some cases rash and impulsive, were made with the best of intentions and with limited information. In plain terms, she did the best she could with the limited means at her disposal. Accordingly, her actions should be viewed, not with the benefit of hindsight, as we relax in this air-conditioned courtroom so far removed from danger, but through the lens of the situation at the time.”
Martin paused to let his words sink in and then continued. “I am not one for long speeches, Your Honour, so if it pleases the court, I would like to call my first witness.”
“Please state your full name for the court records.”
[“I am Airmaiden Saara of the Telvan. I have no other names.”]
Saara, the six-foot-eight Toralii female, glanced to her translator as she spoke. The Toralii were physically incapable of speaking English, and the guttural, rumbling language they had was unpronounceable for humans, but both species could hear and understand the other just fine.
Over the year Liao had been in space, the Telvan dialect had been well documented and studied. However, the dialect had not been made available to civilians, so Lieutenant Yu from the Beijing was assigned to translate. Apart from Liao, he was their best Toralii speaker.
Yu repeated her words.
Fang nodded in understanding. “You are, or were, a member of the Telvan military, correct?”
[“That is correct, Lawyer-man. My current status is best described as ‘Away without Leave.’”]
“I see. And airmaiden was your rank, yes? Somewhat similar to our lieutenant?”
[“The ranks are vaguely similar, yes, regarding the tasks I was assigned and the responsibilities I had.”]
“That’s quite a remarkable shift, to abandon your own people in favour of aliens who tried to kill you… who successfully killed every single other Toralii on your ship, isn’t it?”
Saara’s golden eyes narrowed at the question, her thick paws resting comfortably on her thighs. [“This is the truth.”]
“Can you explain to me why you took this rather dramatic step?”
Saara seemed nervous and out of place for more reasons than her species. The whole procedure would be entirely foreign and uncomfortable to her, but Liao respected that she was willing to do it for her sake.
[“Toralii believe that to save a life is to earn a life’s gratitude. I owe Melissa Liao a great deal, and that debt can only be repaid with my service to her species. I give what I can to her cause.”]
“I see. Please describe for me the circumstances under which Commander Liao earned this debt.”
[“The Human called Gaulung Sheng, the one appointed as Commander Liao’s Executive Officer, he disobeyed her orders, betrayed his oaths, and took command of the ship named the Tehran. His men believed I had intelligence that could help your people. They proceeded to apply what you euphemistically call ‘enhanced interrogation.’ I barely survived—and only because of Liao’s timely intervention. My jaw was shattered, my organs bruised. Liao and Captain Grégoire rescued me, and Doctor Saeed repaired my injuries. In return, I willingly shared what I knew.”]
“And Liao trusted you?”
The Toralii’s eyes flicked to her and then back to the prosecutor. Liao’s heart went out to Saara. She had promised the alien that she would see Earth’s many wonders, but her first few hours on their home planet were in a sterile courtroom.
[“We… developed a bond during my time as her prisoner, a friendship.”]
“Granted, but what evidence did Liao have that you were not simply lying?”
Liao saw the fur on Saara’s neck rise, but the Toralii was obviously making an effort to control herself. The question, Liao knew, would be insulting: to suggest duplicity was, for Toralii, a very aggressive act.
[“I gave her my word. What I told her was true.”]
“I understand that, and, yes, the assault on the Hades system—the place you call Kor’Vakkar, the Gateway of Eternal Ash—was successful. You clearly were speaking the truth, but we know that with the benefit of hindsight. I’m asking you what evidence, at the time, did Liao have that you were not leading the crews of the Tehran and the Beijing into a trap?”
The tips of Saara’s claws, ever so slowly, became visible at the ends of her paws.
Keep it together, Liao silently pleaded.
[“She had no evidence.”]
“So she trusted you meant what you said?”
[“Yes.”]
“She trusted you with her ship, her life, the lives of her crew, and those of the crew of the Tehran, including her lover? She risked all this on your word?”
Saara paused before answering, [“Yes.”]
“Did you think this was reckless?”
Saara’s hesitation answered the question better than her words could. [“I… believe Liao took a calculated risk that resulted in a very favourable outcome.”]
Fang nodded, inclining his head. “Thank you, Airmaiden Saara. No further questions.” The man sat and nodded to Martin, who stood and approached the Toralii, who seemed exasperated.
“Airmaiden, thank you for your time. Can you please describe your relationship with Commander Liao?”
Saara looked at Liao, and Liao held her gaze, smiling slightly. [“My parents died when I was young, but do not misunderstand; I was at no disadvantage. The Toralii raise their children differently than Humans do; children are the responsibility of the community, a great treasure, the continuation of the species. Such a delicate, important task cannot be left in the hands of a single pair of individuals, so for me to have no living biological parents is not as significant an emotional trauma as it might be for one of your species. Still, I miss them often, even in my adult years.
[“However, with Captain Liao, I felt as though, in some way, she and I have a mother-daughter relationship. She allows me to assist her crew aboard the Beijing and, in return, she… protects me, keeps my well-being in her heart as I work to repay my debt.”]
“And once your debt is repaid, you’ll return to your people?”
Saara gave Liao a long, unreadable look, which created an uncomfortable silence in the courtroom. Liao did not know how she would answer.
[“I am uncertain at this time, but currently, I do not believe I shall.”]
“Would you consider enlisting in the People’s Liberation Army Navy?”
[“Liao’s grace in battle and her ability to make accurate, timely decisions with limited and imperfect information is one of the cornerstones of her success. If I was inclined to serve in the military once again, I would consider a posting under Liao’s command… however, I am uncertain of the formal requirements for enlistment.”]
“So you believe Liao to be a competent commander, one who treats her crew well and not only achieves the objectives set out for her by her superiors but also enjoys great success against targets of opportunity when they appear?”
[“That would be an accurate assessment of her skills, yes.”]
Martin’s voice softened slightly. “And you still feel this way after the destruction of the Velsharn research colony, after Liao allowed the construct known as Ben to interface with her ship’s systems? Were they not Telvan, like you?”
Saara’s features clouded. [“The Toralii are hardened against suffering, Lawyer-man. I weep for the loss of my fellows, but I harbour no resentment towards her for the tragedy because the events that transpired were not her fault. Liao trusted the construct you know as Ben, and it betrayed that trust. Any other commanding officer would have done the same if she or he had the courage.”]
“Can you elaborate on that?”
[“Your species lives in dark times, Lawyer-man. The iron fist of the Toralii Alliance fleet hovers over your species, waiting for an opportunity to crush you all. Our most rigid, inflexible law is that no other species can possess the voidwarp technology—the technological marvel you call a jump drive. The destruction of your cities pales in comparison to what the Toralii Alliance has done in the past and will do again if you continue to defy them. Every single woman and man who dons a uniform to fight the Alliance risks death every single day, but truth be told, the battlefield stretches beyond those brave souls. Your entire species is the price you will forfeit if you fail, if the Toralii Alliance gains the opportunity to strike at Earth. There are no civilians, no noncombatants, no parties who will be spared the wrath of the Alliance if and when they come for you. The construct warned you of this, and yet Liao remains ready to stand against the Toralii. Despite her mistakes, despite her pregnancy, despite her losses… she remains ready to fight.”]
“I see.”
Saara kept her eyes focused on Martin. [“This, in my mind, shows her courage. Courage will be in short supply for your species in those dark times, so I suggest you take whatever you can get.”]
Martin inclined his head. “No further questions, and you are excused. Thank you for your time.”
Liao had begged Summer Rowe, her eccentric genius engineer, to wear suitable clothes to court. “Smart and business-like,” she had said, “as though you were going to a job interview.”
Apparently, in Australia, businesswomen wore jeans and a baggy, oversize black shirt that read I EAT EVERYTHING I FUCK in white lettering to job interviews. Liao was amazed the fiery redhead was not held in contempt.
“Please state your name for the court records.”
“Summer Katelyn Rowe, Your Grace.”
The judge frowned slightly. “Thank you, but I’m not a king just yet. ‘Your Honour’ will suffice for now, Miss Rowe.”
“Right-o then, Your Honour.”
Did she think the court proceedings were a joke? Liao stared daggers across the courtroom, willing Summer to treat the court seriously.
Fang stood to address her. “Miss Rowe, you are currently the chief of engineering aboard the Beijing, are you not?”
“Yep.”
“Yet you are not a member of the People’s Liberation Army Navy, are you?”
“Nup.”
“Nor a citizen of the People’s Republic?”
“Nope.”
“So, can you explain to me how you came to earn this prestigious position aboard the crew of the Beijing?”
Rowe stretched her arms upward, her back cracking as she did so. “Sure. Basically, you know the jump drive? I invented a fair chunk of it. Not all of it, but some of it. Nobody knew it better than I did though, and I wanted to make sure my little baby was taken care of. Liao has her crotch-fruit; I have my devices. We’re pretty much the same like that.”
Breathe, Liao urged herself, forcing herself to remember that Summer was just being Summer. This was how she was. She was on her side.
Fang nodded. “And you were offered this post by Liao?”
Rowe shook her head. “Nah, actually Sheng handpicked me, technically. Liao found out about it when she was on a rocket to the moon. We met just before the attacks, and, boy, was Liao surprised to see me… when she wasn’t too busy puking her fucking guts out.”
Liao felt herself flush at the memory. Despite commanding a spaceship, she became queasy in zero gravity, such as when the ship had to use its jump drive or when she used more conventional means of space travel.
“I see. But Liao had the right to remove you, and she did not. Is that correct?”
“Yep and yep.”
Liao studied Judge Qu. Although the man was clearly very patient with the task set before him, Rowe’s terse answers and flippant attitude were clearly testing his patience.
Fang, seemingly pleased, continued. “Can you explain to the court why this would be so?”
“Liao wants her ship to fly straight. I don’t walk around with a stick up my arse. And yeah, I got a bit of an unconventional approach to technology and, well, everything. That’s true.” She paused and glanced at Liao then back at Fang. “But Melissa could see I knew my stuff. This is highly experimental tech with all kinds of crazy fucking side effects and weird behaviours. It sometimes goes spastic for no reason or doesn’t work or needs software patches on the fly. Same goes for the whole fucking ship, actually. It’s a damn miracle that piece of shit could ever even get into space, let alone take on the Toralii. Without me, it’d be a giant piece of flying scrap within two weeks.”
“So Commander Liao did not care that you were not a member of the military and were not subject to the same oaths and training that the rest of the crew were bound to, and she believed your expertise to be invaluable?”
“Yep.”
“Would you say that you were irreplaceable?”
“Sure.”
“And were there any apprenticeships put into place during your whole year aboard the Beijing? Were any provisions made if you were to be killed?”
Rowe snorted. “I’m immortal. I’m a vampire, and I sparkle in the sun. Besides, I’m either in engineering or in operations, both of which are the most protected parts of the ship. The chances of me getting killed are about fucking zero. They’d have to blow up almost all the ship to get to me anyway.”
“But you are not always in engineering or operations, are you? Liao’s report specifically states that you were actually performing an extravehicular activity in the midst of a pitched battle no less than three months ago. You were also part of the team that visited Velsharn, exposing you to risk there, and this excludes other risks such as illness, disease, or misadventure. Despite your insistence, none of us are immortal. If something did happen to you without a suitable replacement on hand, your absence could very well have significantly affected the combat readiness of the Beijing. Your thoughts on this, Miss Rowe?”
Rowe shrugged and didn’t seem to have an answer.
“Would you say it’s irresponsible of Captain Liao to place the working operation of her ship in the hands of one individual, without whom, as you so accurately put it, the entire ship would be flying scrap within two weeks?”
Rowe’s cockiness evaporated, and she threw up her hands. “Look, I didn’t literally mean the ship would fall to pieces!”
“Well then, what did you mean?”
“I just meant that… ugh. The engineers are smart, a’right? And other people can do the job I do—the Sydney and the Tehran are doing just fine after all—but the point is that I do it best!”
“I’m not contesting that; I’m simply asking you if Liao recognised your value to the fleet and sought to protect that value by passing along your skills to others.”
Rowe apparently gave up, folding her arms and looking away. “Whatever.”
Fang turned to the judge. “I’ll take that as a no. No further questions for this witness, Your Honour.”
Martin pushed back his chair and approached the witness stand. He didn’t ask anything right away, giving Rowe a chance to compose herself.
“Miss Rowe, my esteemed colleague Mister Fang made specific mention of an ‘extravehicular activity’ you performed during a combat involving the Beijing. Can you elaborate further on the circumstances behind this?”
Rowe, seeming to recover quickly, gave an eager nod. “Oh, sure. Basically, we blew the shit out of this prison station called Cenar, right? But on the way back, Ben, the psychotic robot, ripped out our jump drive and activated it, teleporting himself away, which left us without one. Fortunately, the Kel-Voran we’d allied ourselves with—insane bastards that they are—had a spare jump drive. You see, the jump drive can only carry two hundred thousand tonnes no matter what. It’s because gravity messes with the drive. So normally, they can only work at Lagrange points, which are naturally occurring points of extreme microgravity found near celestial bodies. Once you hit two hundred thousand tonnes, your own mass is generating enough of a gravity field to throw it off. Anyway, the Kel-Voran ships break in half, so they’re really two parts which jump separately, a really cool—”
“Thank you,” said Martin, “for this enlightening segue, but please, the battle.”
“Uh, right. Yeah. Anyway, so Ben took the Beijing’s jump drive. Fortunately the Kel-Voran had a spare. They gave one half’s jump drive to us while the other half bought us some time. We didn’t have time to carry the jump drive inside, so we just attached it to the hull and jumped away. And by we, I mean I.”
Martin nodded understandingly. “And nobody else on board had the potential skills to complete this operation, right?”
Rowe gave a nasally, heaving laugh. “Nup.”
“Do you think anyone does?”
“Nah. Maybe the combined teams of the Sydney and the Tehran, but probably not as fast as I could.”
“So you would say Liao’s decision to keep you on board, to add you to her crew despite your lack of military rank and service, was a wise one? That despite the risk of the loss of your knowledge, your presence provided a unique boon to the crew that could not be replicated through any other means?”
“Damn straight.”
“And without you, the Beijing would not have returned from the assault on Cenar?”
Rowe leaned back in her chair, grinning widely. “Sounds about right.”
Martin pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Can you describe for me your standard work day?”
“Well, I tend not to sleep much, so I usually crawl out of bed at 0700-ish to fix whatever broke while I was asleep. I usually check on the reactors first, unless something’s on fire or the problem’s with the jump drive. See, when we have active missiles in the launch tubes, sometimes that causes fluctuations in the jump drive’s power levels. I think it’s because they had idiots doing the wiring. I have no idea. Anyway, it requires manual balancing, or the ship can’t jump.” Rowe took a deep breath and then counted issues on her fingers. “Then there are problems with water supply and air filtration units, CO2 scrubbers going down all the time, the reactionless generators we use as artificial gravity shorting out, and even squeaking deck plates. I somehow get everything done and crash into bed by about midnight or 0100 hours if I’m feeling like I like pain.”
“So there’s no real recreation time in your work day, then?”
Rowe shrugged. “Not really. Even when I’m off the job, I’m on the job. It’s not your usual forty-hour workweek; it’s pretty full on.”
Martin nodded in agreement. “So there’s really no time for training anyone else since you’re so busy with your actual work.”
Rowe gave a loud, long, pronounced laugh. “There’s literally no way I could train some minion up at the same time I keep that ship sailing.”
“So Liao’s decision to keep you working, although risky, was the best choice for the ship and its crew?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Martin turned to Qu. “Very well, no further questions.”
“Please state your full name for the court records.”
“Commander Kamal Bashiri Iraj, Your Honour, representing the Islamic Republic of Iran Navy.”
Kamal Iraj was Liao’s XO, her second in command, and someone she had relied on considerably during her time in command. He was taller than Liao, with Persian features and a completely shaved head. His most distinctive feature was a thick, jagged scar running from the area between his eyes down the left-hand side of his face. He’d earned that scar fighting off a second wave of Toralii boarders who had attacked the ship during their encounter with the Seth’arak. Liao had been unconscious.
She gave him a reassuring nod, and the questions from Fang began.
“How did Liao handle having an Arab as her first officer? Was there conflict between the two of you?”
Kamal narrowed his eyes slightly. “I wouldn’t know, as I am Persian, much like most Iranians. I can say that my ethnicity had no bearing on Commander Liao’s conduct. I suspect, based on both her words and her actions, that she valued my input. I believe she considers me a confidant and good friend.”
“A confidant? But she did not reveal her pregnancy to you until after she had told the Toralii on Velsharn, after she had told Saara and Doctor Saeed.”
Kamal looked at her, but Liao met his gaze and did not look away.
“That is correct, Mister Fang. I was… offended, I admit, but I understand her reasons for doing this. I do not hold it against her.”
Fang paused, flipping over a page of his notes, skipping a section. “Very well. Is it true you were made aware of Commander Liao’s relationship with Captain James Grégoire?”
“I was.”
“And is it true that you did not act on this knowledge because Commander Liao reciprocally concealed your relationship with Lieutenant Bai Peng?”
Kamal fixed an icy stare on the lawyer. “You know a great deal about a ship you’ve never stepped foot upon, Mister Fang.”
“Please answer the question, Commander Iraj,” said Qu. “Did you not act upon this information because Commander Liao knew of your relationship with Lieutenant Peng?”
“As you wish, Your Honour. No. There was no reciprocity, and we did not ‘collude’ to disguise the truth. It is true, though, that we as commanding officers exercised discretion where it was appropriate in an unusual situation to preserve the ship’s day-to-day operations.”
Fang shuffled his papers, laying one on top. “So you were engaged in a same-sex relationship with Lieutenant Peng?”
Kamal leaned forward slightly. “Did he tell you that?”
“That’s irrelevant, Commander. Answer the question.”
Kamal stared down the lawyer.
“Yes,” he finally answered, “but it was brief. It ended when Peng was transferred away from the vessel after Lieutenant Jiang regained consciousness and resumed her post as chief tactical officer. To the best of my knowledge, Peng is now serving a post aboard the Cerberus Mars Lagrange Point blockade.”
“So he is not aboard the Beijing any longer?”
“I already said that he is not, no.”
“Was he transferred away because of your relationship?”
Kamal shook his head emphatically. “No. That decision was made because Lieutenant Jiang has much experience with the Beijing’s weapons systems, including actual combat experience. Peng, while eager to learn, did not adapt as well as Jiang, and his expertise was better suited to a less demanding position.” He turned to Qu. “In short, Your Honour, Jiang was better, and the Beijing needs the best.”
Liao had taken no pleasure in that transfer, but she was glad that Jiang had recovered.
“Very well,” said Fang. “No further questions.”
Liao looked at Martin expectantly, but he just stood and addressed Qu without looking at her. “No questions for this witness, Your Honour.”
She stared at him as he took his seat. No questions? She wanted to ask him why but instead bit her tongue. Her turn was next.
Liao eased herself into the chair provided, exhaling as she made herself comfortable. The view from the witness stand differed remarkably from the view from the defendant’s box; she had imagined it to be empowering, staring down the entire court, but she found it to be intimidating instead.
Perhaps this was by design.
“State your name for the court records.”
“Commander Melissa Liao, People’s Liberation Army Navy.”
Fang faced her directly for the first time. As he stared at her, examining her and judging her all at once, Liao slowly gained a new respect for just how skilled the lawyer was. She felt as if Fang’s gaze were made of iron, piercing her mental defences and laying her secrets bare.
“Thank you. Can you please, Commander Liao, in your own words, describe your last year of service.”
“I was offered command of the TFR Beijing in July 2036, a year before her scheduled completion. Before that time, I had been serving as the executive officer for the Han-class Type 091 submarine 404 and then later the 410. Admiral Tiong, my CO in that post, was originally to command the Beijing, but a minor heart issue disqualified him from service in space. Similarly, Admiral Ng, Captain Chou, Captain Lo, Commander Liáng, and Commander Xie were deemed unsuitable for reasons of ill health or other commitments, so the duty fell to me.”
Fang consulted his notes. “That seems like a remarkably short list for such a desirable post.”
“It was,” Liao said, “primarily because of the loss of nearly thirty-seven officers of rank commander or above during the attack on Beijing city. Since then, the People’s Liberation Army Navy has focused on decentralised training exercises.”
“Do you find it odd that the PRC appointed a woman to be the commanding officer of the vessel that would carry the name of their capital city?”
Liao found it surprisingly easy to keep her posture even. She knew he was baiting her, trying to shake her nerve.
“I do find it odd, yes. Most high-ranking naval officers are male. That doesn’t mean I couldn’t do the job they asked of me or that I would be a suboptimal choice. The role of Commanding Officer is genderless.”
“An interesting statement, Commander, given your current condition.”
“The People’s Liberation Army Navy allows officers of both genders parental leave. I fail to see how my pregnancy is a significant issue.”
Fang lowered his notes. “The issue is, Commander, that the Beijing is no standard deployment, nor is the Task Force Resolution a standard military operation. The Toralii are out there, Commander, and your unwise and ill-timed pregnancy has endangered us all. If you were commanding a seagoing vessel or a naval base or any other operation, this would be a non-issue.”
Liao straightened her back with considerable difficulty. “And, pray tell, how is it different?”
Fang twisted his head, looking around the courtroom with incredulity. “The Toralii are the greatest threat our species has ever faced, Commander. You of all people should know that. Your trivialisation of this issue is bad comedy.”
Liao shook her head emphatically. “No, I’m not trivialising anything. I meant what I said, Fang. The Beijing technically operates under Chinese law and under the authority of the People’s Liberation Army Navyy. Task Force provisions aside, it is absolutely no different than a seagoing vessel.”
“Surely you can admit you’re being facetious, Commander. The Pillars of the Earth are, by far, the most important endeavour humanity has ever embarked upon. Our very survival rests in the hands of the commanding officers. They have to be treated differently. We have to make sacrifices to ensure their work is done.”
Liao stared at Fang unblinkingly. “If you think that all we have to do is give up everything you hold up as a value, and this will be enough to defeat the Toralii, then I’m afraid you do not know them very well at all.” She pointed at Saara without looking at her. “Maybe, when she was sitting where I’m sitting, you should have been more direct with your questions. Saara, is it true what Ben said right before he destroyed Velsharn? Does humanity have a chance against the Toralii?”
“It is not Saara’s turn to speak,” said Qu, “and I ask you to refrain from further outbursts of that nature, Commander Liao.”
Liao’s finger trembled, pointing directly at the Toralii she considered her closest friend. “Saara? Saara, I want you to answer my question!”
“Commander Liao, you are out of order.”
Liao rose from her seat, both hands gripping the hard wooden railing of the defendant’s box. “SAARA!” Her voice rose to a roar. “ANSWER MY QUESTION!”
The judge banged his gavel, and a grinning Fang gestured helplessly to the packed courtroom, shrugging as though Liao were a lost case. Reporters scribbled in their notebooks, whispers and mutterings drowning out Saara’s muttered response.
[“No.”]
When order was restored, Judge Qu called for a brief recess. Liao took the opportunity to get some fresh air, slipping out the fire exit at the rear of the judicial building after a quick check to see that it was not alarmed. The front would be swarming with reporters crowding under the overhang to avoid a particularly strong seasonal storm, and she did not feel she could handle facing the horde again.
But her cunning earned her only a moment’s peace. The door swung open, and Martin stepped into the puddle of water, the whizz-click of an extending umbrella immediately following.
“I told you to keep your calm.”
She had expected his bluntness. “You did,” Liao said, “but it had to be said.”
“Really? You had to tell the court that our species is basically done for?”
Liao looked away down the side of the large brick building. “It was necessary for Qu to know the stakes, to know my mind, to understand what occupies my thoughts every day when we’re out there.”
Martin rested his back up against the stone wall, rain pattering against his umbrella. He held it over Liao’s head. “You picked a poor way to do it. What you did made you look unstable. We don’t want unstable.”
Liao fixed her gaze upon him. “Right. So why no questions for Kamal?”
He looked at her for some time, the rain pattering down on the umbrella he held over her head. “The practice of law is not as fluid as people think. The justice system, flawed though it is, is not a wild courtroom drama, not normally. It’s intended to be the solemn, sober collection of facts with an aim at the approximation of the truth of a matter. However, that said, each side in a legal dispute is expected to put forward their case in the best possible light. Mister Fang has nothing personal against you; he’s merely doing his job.”
“I know.”
“Good. Some clients take these things very personally, which I can understand.” Martin shuffled, his expensive shoes sloshing in the water. “With this in mind,” he said, “sometimes the best move you can play is to do nothing.”
Liao reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought you said we didn’t want to look unstable. Fang made it seem like my ship was a gay bathhouse and everyone was shagging the whole time we were up there.”
“Well, maybe,” Martin admitted, “but I believe Fang erred in this case. Kamal’s relationship was inappropriate, yes, but it was understandable. Kamal has an excellent service record, and the court took his answers favourably, I think. Sometimes, the best thing you can say is nothing at all, especially when you’re ahead.”
She looked at him, trying to gauge his honesty. “You think we’re ahead?”
Martin pursed his lips a moment. “Fifty-fifty,” he said. “It could go either way. Your little outburst didn’t help.”
“Sorry. I was going for the ‘strong and determined’ look.”
“There are better ways to make that work. Your red-headed friend’s little show-and-tell didn’t help either. I thought you said you had told her—”
“I definitely told her.”
He laughed, a low, happy laugh that Liao felt was strangely out of place in the dank, smelly alley, rain pattering down around them. “No worries, mate. What’s done is done. For what it’s worth, if we were home, it’d be less of an issue. There’s a saying in Australia… The only person who wears a suit is the defendant. I doubt Qu will see it that way though.”
Liao absently rubbed her abdomen. “The shirt was funny though.”
“I would have chosen ‘Fuck the Police’ myself.”
She gave a snorting laugh and eased away from the wall. “Okay, well, whatever. Time to face the music again, right?”
“Yes, but this time, it’s my turn to play,” promised Martin, snapping his umbrella closed as Liao stepped back through the open door and into the court building.
“I apologise for my disturbance.”
Saying that was difficult. Liao was of the firm belief that being pregnant didn’t make a woman helpless, so taking advantage of the leniency many would give someone in her position rubbed her the wrong way, but she knew it had to be done. Martin had counselled her in the strongest possible terms to set her pride aside and seek every advantage she could. As she finished speaking, she saw him gave her an approving nod out of the corner of her eye.
“I want to be clear,” Qu said, “That the court understands how stressful this whole situation has been on you and recognises the difficulty of your pregnancy.” His voice became pointed. “Although there will be no further outbursts, will there?”
Liaoo kept her voice as steady as she could as she answered. “No, Your Honour. There will not.”
Qu seemed satisfied, so Liao turned her attention to Martin. “You can ask your questions.”
“Very well. For the benefit of the court, can you please detail how you report to your superiors when the Beijing is out in space?”
“Simply put, it’s not possible. The nature of our FTL technology is limited. The jump drive allows our vessels to travel anywhere without gravimetric interference, but the number of ships we have that are jump capable is limited. We can’t afford a Broadsword messenger unless the situation is truly dire, so by and large, unless we’re travelling back and forth ourselves, it’s just us out there.”
Martin turned a page on his notes. “And while covered in your training, this is unusual for a modern military, yes? To be out of communication with one’s command structure?”
“Very.”
“This must make command decisions difficult.”
“To a significant extent, yes, since the command staff are acting with imperfect and outdated information. There are times, such as the assault on Kor’Vakkar, when contacting Fleet Command isn’t possible. We were on our own then.”
“That couldn’t have been easy on you.”
“It wasn’t. Sometimes we had support though. The destruction of the prison station of Cenar was one such operation.”
“So, just to be clear, after you’d launched that operation, once the ship had jumped away, was there any way to stop the operation if you were ordered to?”
She shook her head. “No. Once a ship is out of radio range, there’s no way to receive support from Earth. No way to get in contact with one’s superiors.”
“Yet both of those operations were successful, despite significant damage to the Pillars, correct?”
“I’d say they were a success, yes. The primary mission objectives were accomplished, along with significant success with secondary targets and targets of opportunity. All the ships made it back, more or less. Against the Toralii Alliance, I’d be reluctant to classify that as anything other than complete and total victory.”
Martin, leaning forward slightly, seemed to get to his point. “So even though mistakes were made and the decisions you made were never perfect, you still did the absolute best you could do—and you succeeded despite long odds against a foe you, conventionally, had little chance against.”
“I’d say that’s an accurate assessment of the Beijing’s mission history so far.”
Martin moved to the next section of his notes. “Aside from the Toralii, you encountered another species, yes?”
“Correct. The Kel-Voran, a warrior culture who frequently skirmish with the Toralii. Their representative was Garn, who held the rank of starslayer.”
“And what did Garn say the Kel-Voran call you?”
“The Butcher of Kor’Vakkar, The Bringer of Terror, Slayer of Varsian the Immortal.” Her lip curled up slightly. “I told him Miss Rowe was the one who actually killed Varsian, and I wasn’t sure about the rest of it.”
Martin inclined his head slightly, gesturing to the courtroom. “It sounds like they respect you, maybe even fear you.”
“Something like that, yes. Very few have stood against the Toralii and lived to tell about it. Fewer still, more than once. Garn seemed to know who I was, despite none of our ships having any contact with their species. The Toralii are talking about us.”
“About us as a species, or about you, specifically?”
Liao smiled slightly. “About me by name.”
“And what happened to Garn?”
Her face fell, and she let it happen. “The construct known as Ben ripped the jump drive from our ship, disappearing with it and leaving us stranded. The Kel-Voran gave us one of theirs while the other half of their ship held off the attackers. He died defending us.”
“It’s interesting that an alien who you’d just met would give his life for you, isn’t it?”
“That’s their way, but I admit that it is extremely odd. My reputation must have spread far.”
Martin nodded. “I think we can all agree that it has been well earned.” Then to Qu, “No further questions, Your Honour.”
Time passed. The arguments were made, back and forth, and the judge was left in deliberation. Finally, when he returned, Liao steadied herself for his judgment.
“All rise for the verdict.”
She did, and Judge Qu took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking again.
“Humanity and all its nations exist in an unprecedented time, a time where the ordinary, the routine, the expected must be treated with a critical yet lenient eye. Our first contact with alien species has not been peaceful, and we know now that if the species of man is to exist in this vast universe teeming with life, we are going to have to fight for that right. The actions of Commander Melissa Liao while in command of the TFR Beijing have not been perfect, but they have been shown to be effective. She has, for the large part, acted within the framework of the behaviour we all expected her to, and she has accomplished incredible things. For this, she should be commended.”
His features hardened somewhat.
“But there is a certain element of recklessness in her command style, and I sense that Commander Liao feels that she has something to prove; perhaps being a woman in charge of the most prestigious posting in the People’s Liberation Army Navy was not something even she felt capable enough to do. Her lingering doubts caused her to overcompensate and to take risks to prove herself, risks that have sometimes paid off and sometimes led to catastrophic failures. When we are playing with the fate of the entire species, we cannot have catastrophic failures. We cannot allow ourselves to fail because the stakes are too high. We cannot risk the extinction of our species.”
Qu reached for his notes. To Liao, the gesture seemed to be in slow motion, the wait almost impossible to bear.
“On the charge of dereliction of duty for turning her ship over to the construct known as Ben, I find the defendant guilty. I fine her seven hundred fifty yuan and place a note in her record.”
A slap on the wrist. The fine would come out of her wages. Not a concern at all.
“On the charge of conduct unbecoming an officer, I find the defendant not guilty.”
She closed her eyes a moment. That was the stickiest of all the charges and, if she were honest with herself, the charge she felt least able to avoid.
“And on the charge of reckless endangerment of fleet assets, I find the defendant guilty. I sentence her to be reassigned to a terrestrial post for twelve months so her command potential can be re-examined, pending the completion of her maternity leave. I proclaim this court to be closed.”
Qu tapped the gavel against the block, and Liao saw her future, in a moment, slip away.