Lacuna: Demons of the Void

by David Adams

  Crack-crack-crack went the Toralii rifles, white flashes of light signalling their shots as they cut a bloody path through the stunned Operations crew, and Liao struggled back into a kneeling position. Still feeling dizzy, her mind clouded by the pain of her fall, Melissa fired off another couple of rounds at the nearest Toralii. Most of the shots were deflected by the heavy suit of steal space armour he wore, but one bullet hit the invader square on the reflective visor and found its way through. The neat little hole it left, just to the left of the centre, seemed like such a tiny thing... but it was enough to bring the red suited Toralii crashing limply to the deck of the Operations room, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.

  Now there were five.

  Her actions seemed to have a rallying effect. Jiang and Dao broke cover together and opened fire on the closest Toralii, but despite several good hits, his red armour seemed to stop most of it. The Toralii raised his rifle and, with a single shot to each of them, blasted both crewmen back to the deck.

  His grim work complete, the Toralii soldier reached out for a console to steady himself, but Liao lined up her pistol to his leg and squeezed. The limb presented a difficult, but tantalizing target; generally speaking joints were hard to protect. Fortunately for her, although most of the shots went wide or bounced off the red-clad armour, one found purchase on his knee joint – with a howl of pain the Toralii toppled over right next to where Saara was crouched. Thinking quickly, the Toralii woman gave him two shots in the visor, and as Liao went to reload she saw his body go limp. Just to make sure, Liao fired at the prone Toralii until her clip was out of ammunition.

  Then there were four.

  Liao jammed her last magazine into her pistol, watching as Saara picked up the fallen Toralii’s rifle and shouldered it. Her Toralii friend broke cover, firing rapidly but accurately. The weapon seemed to have a much more pronounced effect than their puny handguns and Liao was relieved to see others having success; she watched as Saara’s rounds blew out the chest of one of the Toralii, then sent a second sprawling with a wound to the shoulder.

  And then, with only one red and one white armoured Toralii marine remaining, their luck changed. The red suited Toralii fired twice and Saara was flung back against her console in a spray of purple blood, groaning in pain as her legs collapsed beneath her... Then, with a faint hiss, the Toralii woman slumped to the deck.

  “SAARA!”

  Screaming in anger and rage Liao opened up on the red suited invader, emptying her last magazine directly into the Toralii, her very last round slipping between the armoured plates near his neck and knocking him back against Jiang’s blood splattered console.

  With no more ammunition, Liao absently tossed her useless pistol away. She wasn’t sure why, but she reached out for the long-range communications headset, slipping it over her head. Immediately, Matthew’s voice echoed in her ear, his thick Australian accent calm and collected. “-eijing, this is Sydney actual, report status, over.”

  Hearing footsteps and looking up, Liao found herself staring down the barrel of the white-suited Toralii soldier’s rifle, the gun only inches away from her bloodied face.

  [“Go on,”] spoke the Toralii, reaching up with a hand and pressing a button to the side of his visor, causing the thick glass-like substance to liquefy and disappear. Now his face was visible... a face that held a mixture of rage, contempt, and the thrill of victory. [“Go... give your report. Tell your comrades on the Sydney that the great Commander Liao is down and bloodied, her crew dead and her ship in ruins. Tell them that you are beaten.”]

  “You understand English? You’re... listening to our transmissions?”

  [“Evidently. Now... tell them.”]

  Slowly reaching up to the talk key, Liao depressed it, feeling wet blood slowly trickling down her head.

  “Sydney, this is Beijing actual.” She gave a low, mirthless chuckle, shaking her head, hearing her own words repeated back to her from inside the white-armoured Toralii’s helmet. “Believe me... you don’t want to know.”

  The Toralii jabbed the rifle barrel towards her, splitting her lip and causing her to grunt. [“I said tell them you’re beaten! Obey me, insect!”]

  “Fuck you.”

  Lowering his weapon slightly, the Toralii pressed the barrel to Liao’s shoulder and pulled the trigger.

  White hot pain sprung from the wound and Liao fell back against the deck, crying out in pain. She curled up in a ball as blood poured from the injury, clutching her shoulder so hard her fingernails dug into her skin and her eyes closed tight.

  [“Worm! Less than nothing! You will tell them how Varsian the Immortal cut down your crew like a scythe through grass! You will tell them how you begged for death, about how you pleaded for your pathetic life as-”]

  “HEY!” came the shout from behind the Toralii soldier. Liao’s eyes flew open, looking up in time to see a flurry of red hair. The white-suited Toralii man twisted around and raised his rifle, but then there was a sickening splat and he dropped it, his hands moving up to his face as he howled in pain. The Toralii staggered backwards, rifle clattering to the ground, clutching his face...

  …with Summer Rowe’s pen firmly lodged in his left eye.

  Leaping forward, Rowe snatched up the white-armoured Toralii’s fallen weapon, raising it up and pressing it directly to the Toralii’s white-armoured chest.

  “Bangarang, motherfucker.”

  She pulled the trigger. With a white flash, and a spray of blood and broken metal, the last of the Toralii collapsed against the Beijing’s deck. Blood pooled out from his wound. Varsian seemed to be staring directly at Liao, lips trembling slightly as the light in his remarkably feline eyes slowly faded.

  Rowe dropped the weapon, moving to Liao’s side.

  “Holy shit, Captain! You’re shot. You’re shot... Can I help-”

  Coughing and wincing from pain, Liao shook her head. “No! No... I’m fine, I’m fine... Help Jiang, Dao, Saara... help them... get Doctor Saeed up here!”

  Fortunately Liao saw Summer move away, rolling Jiang’s crumpled form onto her side and applying pressure to the woman’s wounds. Dao, groaning feebly, gave a wet hacking cough, blood trickling from the side of his lips.

  She vaguely heard Rowe call Doctor Saeed, but she found it hard to pay attention...

  The headset crackled to life once again. She had forgotten she was wearing it. Knight’s voice once again spoke to her.

  “Sydney to Beijing, Tehran; the Toralii vessel is disengaging from the Beijing and moving into a firing solution! Beijing, you have got to move, you’re a sitting duck!”

  Liao blinked, the wooziness returning twice over, probably due to the blood loss and shock of her wounds. She stared directly up at the ceiling, her blood pouring out onto the deck as she reached up and pressed the talk key on the left earpiece.

  “Beijing to Sydney, Tehran... This is Beijing actual. Most sincere apologies, Captain, but we won’t be able to manoeuvre at this stage... The borders have been repelled, but most of the Operations crew are fucked. Our engines are fucked. Our electronics and optics are fucked...”

  “Tehran to Sydney, this is Captain James Grégoire... I got this one. Just get clear, I’m going to take care of it.”

  Liao, despite it all, could not fight the warm smile that spread over her face. James’ cockiness was inspiring, despite the hopelessness of their situation. It was just like him to make a stupid joke when everything was hopeless.

  “Oh, you’ve got this one, do you?” she asked into the microphone, by now completely disregarding radio protocol. The world itself seemed to be getting dimmer and more distant as her blood spread below her like a dark rust coloured stain. Rolling her head to the right, she saw Saara’s crumpled form lying sprawled on the deck... her lifeblood blooming like a sanguine flower out from her various wounds and slowly spreading over the bare metal of the ship’s floor.

  “Mmm... see, I’ve got a plan. Do you remember that story I told you, back when we
were in Sydney? Right before the attacks, the one about War of the Worlds?”

  “Uhh... yeah. Something about a Thunder Child.” A small smile graced her lips, recalling the memory. “...I still haven’t read it.”

  Suddenly, the memory came back to Liao as if illuminated by the light of a firework in the night sky; James and his crew had sunk an American aircraft carrier by breaking the rules of the contest, by...

  The sharp knife of panic began to cut through the dull fog that was her barely functional mind, fear building within her. Surely she was wrong... “James? James, what’s happening? What are you doing?”

  Grégoire gave a chuckle into her ear, his voice carrying a strange edge to it. “Well, I got the propulsion and guidance systems up and working... but the only weapon we have left is the ship itself.”

  There was a moment of dull shock as Liao processed what he was going to do.

  “James- James, listen to me, okay? Look... let the Sydney take care of it, just focus on saving your crew, on saving yourself-”

  James cut her off. “There’s no time. The Toralii are almost in a firing solution... Besides, manoeuvring is shot, by now I can’t change course even if I wanted to.”

  “James... No, James, no-… You have to change your heading. You have to reverse, or move out of the way... There must be some other way! Let me talk to Knight, the Sydney can help. They’re not far away... There’s enough time, there’s enough-”

  “-I’m sorry, Liao. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never got to give you everything you wanted, or to tell you how I really felt... but this is the only way. The Toralii are too strong.”

  “James, don’t do this... please, I-...”

  “I’m sorry Melissa, it’s the only-”

  The line went dead, and the rumble of an intense shock wave passed over the Beijing, rattling the debris and causing Liao to tumble onto her side, her wounds tearing from the violent motion. Fighting the simultaneous urges to scream in agony and to pass out, Liao fumbled for the talk key.

  “Knight! Captain Matthew Knight, report!”

  There was no answer. Growling in frustration Liao pressed the talk key several times, an action which transmitted an annoying series of clicks to anyone who was listening on the line. It was a dick move, but she wanted to be heard.

  “This is Beijing actual; whoever is listening to this transmission, I want Captain Knight of the TFR Sydney to report status immediately! Report, damn you!”

  For a moment nothing came through, and then there was the soft crackle of an incoming signal. Knight’s voice – strained and soft – filtered through the earpiece of the long-range communications headset, his tone far more telling than his words.

  “...There’s nothing to report. The Tehran went straight in, Commander... straight in. They rammed the Toralii warship right in its midsection.”

  Liao’s chest clenched and she squeezed the talk key so hard the plastic creaked. Her words were slurred and she had to fight to keep herself coherent, to keep her thoughts ordered enough to give orders. Even though Knight was a full Captain and she only a Commander, the Beijing was the de-facto flagship... She doubted anyone would question them at this point.

  “Understood. Instruct strike fighters to begin immediate search and rescue operations. Have the crews cut their way into the hull and start-”

  “Commander, I... I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear. There’s nothing left. Both ships are gone. There’s not even debris left. There’s just... nothing.”

  “B-But...”

  “I’m sorry, Commander. … but he’s gone.”

  Liao would have argued the point, would have screamed and cried and yelled and refused to accept reality as she was occasionally inclined to do, would have thrown herself into finding James and dragging him back to her ship alive and well... but between the words of Matthew, her numerous wounds, and the sudden, searing pain in her heart... the human body could only stand so much.

  She had lost so much blood and the injury to her head was almost certainly a concussion... Liao tried to keep her mind focused, tried to summon up the mental and physical strength to continue... but it was futile. There was, she knew, a certain line that no human can ignore, some limits that could not be exceeded; the human body eventually demanded you stop, demand you rest lest the healing process have no chance at all.

  It was a line she, finally, crossed. Liao felt the world go grey, then black... and then she felt nothing at all.

  Epilogue

  “Light”

  *****

  Infirmary

  TFR Beijing

  One day later

  Light.

  The first thing she could see was only light, the bright haze of fluorescent globes flooding her eyes. She squinted to try and keep the glare out, tears coming as the eye’s instinctive response to the bright light kicked in. Rather than fight the sting, Liao surrendered and let her eyes close completely.

  Groggily trying to remember how she got here, Liao wondered if she was drugged. She could feel that her head was heavily bandaged, along with her shoulder. She had woken up like this right after arriving in Canberra, after the attacks on Earth... For a moment she had to fight down a wave of panic as old memories spoke to her, piercing the sleep-haze she found herself in. With a conscious effort Liao reminded herself that she was not back under the rubble of the building in Sydney... There was far too much light for that, and the smell of hospital was too strong for it to be a false memory.

  There was a pain in her shoulder and a throbbing in her head. Forcing her eyes open, Liao began to see with blurry vision the brightly lit infirmary of her ship, surrounded by various machines displaying all manner of incomprehensible information. From the mess of information she saw a heart rate monitor, noticing her heart rate was higher than she anticipated. A moment later, a wave of pain washed over her whole body, so strong she was forced to clench her teeth shut; she wondered why she had not been given morphine, as she had when her hip had been sliced open during the attacks.

  Perhaps it was just coming up on another medication period and the pain had woken her up. Determined to both find the answer – and to find something to quell the agony – she tried to sit up, but the sharp stinging burn deep in her shoulder was far too powerful for that. She fell back against bed, emitting a soft yelp of pain, which attracted the attention of the nearby doctor.

  “Ahh, Captain Liao. I’m glad you’re awake.”

  Liao rubbed her heavily bandaged shoulder, giving the Arabic man her best smile. “Doctor Saeed, am I glad to see you.... Now, drugs. Gimme.”

  The doctor regarded her, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t a little suffering good for the soul?”

  Liao groaned. “What happened? All I remember is Summer shooting some Toralii, and I told her, if she discharges a weapon on my ship again I’d kill her... so she’s due for a... killing.”

  Saeed didn’t answer the question right away. When he did, he took a deep breath, a sign Liao knew that indicated that someone was about to deliver some bad news.

  “...The Sydney did a very complete search and, I’m sorry... There’s no sign of the Tehran, nor the Toralii ship, aside from some wreckage... but not nearly enough to account for the mass of both ships.”

  Liao’s eyes widened. “Did... did they jump away? How? We had the gravity mines active...”

  “To be perfectly honest, we’re not sure what happened, but... we’re looking into it. I recommend you hope for the best but expect the worst.” He gave a tired, sad chuckle. “Not every hero lives to fight another day... I’m sorry.”

  She closed her eyes again, sucking in her breath, trying to steady herself. The news was far too much for her to process at the moment and she filed the potential loss of James away for later. “...Okay. What’s the good news?”

  Saeed gave a sad smile. “I don’t recall saying there was any, Captain.”

  Melissa stared at him for a moment. “...I guess not.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “What happened t
o the Sydney after I blacked out? How are they faring? What can you-”

  Saeed raised up a hand to placate her. “The Sydney is just fine; don’t you worry. They’re currently guiding us back to the lunar drydock. We’ll be there for some time... Basically every major system is damaged or completely out of action, and there’s a lot of work to do to make us space-worthy again. We’re running Rowe off her feet, but... to be honest, I think she’s happy for the distraction. The battle shook her up pretty badly. Alex is helping her, emotionally, now that he’s out of surgery. These things... things like combat stress reaction... they just take time to heal. That’s what she needs right now... just time. That and counselling, which I believe she’s attending.”

  The mention of Summer got Liao’s attention. She wanted to ask about the casualty count... about the rest of the Operations crew whom she had led into a catastrophic battle. Melissa tried to sit up again but the pain won out; instead, she settled for propping herself up on her elbows. “What happened to Jiang, Ling, Dao... Saara?”

  Saeed patted her shoulder. “I’ll fill you in later. There’s no need to trouble you for the moment. Just rest...”

  “No. They’re my crew... I need to know...”

  Saeed shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Captain. There’s a long list of wounded and deceased. To go through them would take more time than I have right now, so I have to insist-”

  “I’ll pull rank.”

  Saeed gave a wry smile. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. Sorry, I win.”

  The man put a small injection into her IV and Liao closed her eyes, expecting the soothing flood of painkillers to come and take her pain away... and was fairly chagrined when it did not.

  “That’s just an antibiotic,” Saeed explained, “I’m afraid we can’t give you heavy drugs in your condition...”

  Liao started at him, curiously. She instinctively reached up for her shoulder with her good hand, rubbing it slightly. “What do you mean?”