The Requiem of Steel Read online

  Contents

  Copyright Information

  Blurb

  Books

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Toralii World

  Liao in chains

  Prologue

  Act I

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Act II

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Act III

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Epilogue

  End Image

  The Lacunaverse

  Lacuna: The Requiem of Steel by David Adams

  Copyright David Adams

  2016

  Peace in our time.

  The Toralii guns are silent. Humanity’s home of Velsharn is secure. There are no more battles. No more wars. The machinations of a dying man have traded a single life for a species; Captain Melissa Liao’s world is four iron walls and pain, but her suffering buys life for mankind. Her legacy is one of struggle, selflessness, and sacrifice.

  Held in the grasp of the Toralii Alliance, she takes little comfort in this. Is this the swansong for war, for steel and blood and gunpowder? Is this the price of peace?

  Amongst the crew of the TFR Beijing, the TFR Tehran, and the TFR Washington, a chorus rings:

  No one gets left behind.

  The climactic sixth, and final, book of the Lacuna series.

  Books by David Adams

  The Lacuna series (science fiction)

  Lacuna

  The Sands of Karathi

  The Spectre of Oblivion

  The Ashes of Humanity

  The Prelude to Eternity

  The Requiem of Steel

  Magnet

  Magnet: Special Mission

  Magnet: Marauder

  Magnet: Scarecrow

  Magnet Saves Christmas

  Magnet: Ironheart (coming soon)

  Faith

  Imperfect

  The Kobolds series (fantasy)

  Ren of Atikala

  The Scars of Northaven

  The Empire of Dust

  The Pariahs

  The Pariahs: Freelands

  The Pariahs: Elfholme

  The Pariahs: The Abyss (coming soon)

  Sacrifice

  The Symphony of War series (science fiction)

  Symphony of War: The Polema Campaign

  Symphony of War: The Eris Campaign (coming 2016)

  The Immortals: Kronis Valley

  The Immortals: Anchorage

  The Immortals: Southport (coming soon)

  Legacy Fleet fanfiction (science fiction)

  Hammerfall

  Khorsky (coming soon!)

  Other Books

  Insufficient

  Insurrection

  Injustice (coming 2016)

  Who Will Save Supergirl?

  Evelyn’s Locket

  The Gossamer Shard

  ––––

  A writer does not write in isolation,

  for we are the sum of their experiences.

  It is from these experiences that inspiration comes.

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

  My friends, who love me in spite of me,

  And as always, to my readers.

  You made all this possible.

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

  and Shane Michael Murray,

  my tireless proofreader, motivator and partner in crime.

  ––––

  Lacuna

  空

  白

  The Requiem of Steel

  “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”

  - Friedrich Nietzsche

  PROLOGUE

  Peace in Our Time

  *****

  Captain Anderson’s Office

  TFR Washington

  September 1st, 2039 AD

  Three hours after the events of Lacuna: The Prelude to Eternity

  “NO-ONE GETS LEFT BEHIND,” Captain Mike Williams said, his tone fire and steel. “No-one.”

  Captain Anderson, seated behind his desk, regarded his counterpart with weary eyes. Williams, the Australian Air Force pilot turned CO of a stolen Toralii warship, had a face like a modern art piece. Jagged. Sliced up. Rough like sandpaper. His call sign was Magnet.

  Magnet attracted women and trouble in equal measure. The woman at the focus of their discussion, however, was not some scantily dressed piece in a tight dress. She was an entirely different type of trouble altogether.

  “I understand,” Anderson said, slowly and deliberately. “Believe me. But hear this: I will not authorise a tactical intervention for Captain Melissa Liao at this time. If you want to retrieve her, it will have to be through diplomatic channels.”

  Williams’s scarred face distorted. He was so ugly, it was unsettling, almost intimidating, but Anderson was not shaken. “They’re torturing her,” Williams said. “You know they are. For intel. For kicks. You’ve read the reports from the crew of the Tehran who were interred in Cenar. What they do to people there. Every day they keep her there, she’s…” His voice trailed off, then returned in force. “You know.”

  If all Williams came here to do was explain things Anderson already had a very firm understanding of, then their meeting was a waste of his very limited time. “I’ve read the reports.”

  “So,” Williams said, “do something about it. The Beijing want their captain back. I have the Rubens standing by, jump drive all charged and ready to go. The Tehran want a fight. The Washington, too, and I just know that Captain Grégoire is itching to punch someone. Liao sent the fleet after him—” He slipped but recovered quickly. “After the crew of the Tehran when it was captured. We should do the same for her.”

  “I know lots of things,” Anderson said, folding his arms in front of him. Perhaps it was time. “How close were you and Captain Liao?”

  “Are.” His expression was difficult to judge. “How close we are, sir. She’s still alive.”

  “Of course. How close are you?”

  Williams paused, furrowing his brow, stretching out the lines of his scar tissue. “Sir?”

  “Indulge me. You and your wife cared for her child for a time, didn’t you?”

  “We did,” he said. “And I’m distressed by your seeming carelessness for her predicament. If it were you, sir, we would redouble our efforts to retrieve you, post haste. Not sit around making excuses.”

  Anderson closed his eyes for a moment then re-opened them. How to make him understand… “Did her capture make you angry?”

  Williams paused at length. Anderson could see the cogs turning over in the man’s head. The implication. “Sir,” Williams said, his words clearly carefully chosen. “I know Captain Liao was investigating the possibility of an informer within our ranks. I know what you’re thinking. There is absolutely—”

  “You have no idea what I’m thinking,” Anderson said.

  Williams spoke over him. “The Rubens and her crew have been conducting solo operations, way out of range of the rest of the fleet, and that distances us… but I assure you our record speaks for itself. I am not the mole. Nor is someone on my crew. You can trust us, sir. Our record is impeccable. We didn’t turn Liao over to the Toralii Alliance. Not me, not my crew. I promise you that.”

  Anderson smiled a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t you. Because it was me.”

  Williams stared, then he scowled. “Don’t even joke about that.”

  “Who’s joking?”

  W
illiams actually laughed, his jagged lip turning up in a smile. “Sorry, sir, but you don’t exactly seem like a Toralii collaborator.”

  “What does a Toralii collaborator look like?” Anderson asked. “Evil and pale, with a cape?”

  Williams said nothing, staring at him with his unreadable face. What was he thinking? Feeling? Confusion, surely. Anger? Probably.

  Showtime. Anderson reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the chain of keys, which were the symbol of his authority. One was the key to the Washington’s jump drive. The other, his desk safe. He picked out the thin steel safe key, inserted it into the lock below his desk, and opened the door. Within was a humble rosewood box big enough to fit in one hand. He laid it on the table and opened it. Slowly, carefully, he turned the small box around to show Williams its contents.

  Within was a small transmitter of Toralii manufacture. Black and simple. A light strobed, beating purple, the signature colour of their species, thumping like a heart.

  Williams’s face flashed through a warped PowerPoint of emotions. Confusion. Understanding. Rage. He shook his head. “No way. No fucking way.”

  Then it was Anderson’s turn to say nothing.

  “Why?” Williams asked, his hands becoming fists by his sides. “Why would you do that? Why would you help them? Don’t you understand—they burned Earth.” His voice rose. “You swore an oath to serve the United States, and those cunts burned it to ashes! How could you?”

  “I have cancer.”

  Williams’s scars hid his emotions, but not the venom in his voice. “And let me guess, the Toralii promised you the cure in exchange for Liao?”

  Anderson’s smile remained. “No. I doubt even they could help me, and to be perfectly frank, I didn’t ask.”

  “What then? Money?” Williams practically hissed the words. “Amnesty?”

  “Amnesty, yes. For all of us.” Anderson slowly closed the safe, stifling a wet cough. “The deal was simple. Peace, in exchange for her. We were to lure her to a remote location—or inform the Toralii when she voluntarily went to such a place—and they would arrange her capture. The arrival of the Iilan gave us the opportunity we needed.”

  Williams was silent for a time. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully, probably keenly aware that Anderson’s office was guarded by armed marines. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Anderson took a deep breath. “I want you to be the one that tells the fleet the news.”

  “Do your own dirty work,” Williams spat. “I’m not your messenger boy.”

  “Being a messenger is bad only when the news is bad.” Anderson gestured to the bulkhead. Beyond it lay many more, then empty space. “You would expect the Toralii Alliance to respond in force after we attacked one of their outposts, but our scopes are clear. And they’re going to remain that way. They’re done with us. From now on, the Velsharn Exclusion Zone is going to be an area of peace. No warships. No death. No endless drills. We can rebuild. All of mankind will be free because of her sacrifice.”

  “Hardly a sacrifice freely given,” Williams said. “She has a child. A child who cries every night because her mother is gone. A child!”

  “So did I, on Earth. Does that increase the sympathy you have for me? Does this downplay my guilt?”

  “No,” Williams said, his tone still hard. “We all lost people.”

  “We did, but thanks to Liao and me, her child will never have to face what we faced. I bought a good life for her, her whole life, in exchange for a few shorter years from me, and a much greater amount from her mother.”

  “Stop talking like Liao agreed to this.”

  He tilted his head. “As you wish.”

  The two men stared at each other in silence.

  Finally, Williams pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Is this the part where you kill me?”

  “No.” The man simply didn’t understand. He probably couldn’t. But who truly could? “I want you to go. Like I said, I want you to tell everyone what I just told you.” Anderson laid the jump-drive keys on the table and gently slid them across the beautiful oak wood towards Williams, leaving the faintest of scratches on its fine surface. “Please give my jump keys to Commander Wolfe. I want—”

  Williams snatched up the keys, along with the transmitter, too, and thrust them into his hip pocket. “I’m not going to turn them over to him or anyone currently on board. Wolfe’s your lackey for all I know. I’m getting the fuck off this ship and going straight to Captain Grégoire, Captain de Lugo, or Commander Iraj, or… whoever will listen.”

  “No.” This was important. Anderson had to make him understand. “I worked alone. Wolfe had nothing to do with this. He is a good man—”

  “Wolfe is going to spend the rest of his fucking miserable life in this ship’s brig because of you, and that’s assuming James doesn’t just have him shot. I would. Nobody will trust him with command. Not after he was your XO.”

  “Have mercy on him,” Anderson said. “He’s young. He didn’t know what I was doing and took no part in it. I swear it.”

  “Mercy? As you had mercy on Liao? On the marines we lost on the surface of that shitty planet where she was taken?”

  He had said his piece about Liao. “The fallen… nothing I can say will ultimately change anything. Motives do not matter to the dead. Nothing I can say for them will change the past or the present.”

  Williams met his gaze and held it. “What kind of cancer?”

  “Liver.” Saying the words felt so good. Freeing. Honest. “At least, that’s where it started. Lungs, now. Skin. Heart. Brain. Basically everywhere. I’m more cancer than man at this point.”

  “Good,” Williams said. “I hope it kills you slowly and painfully. I hope you suffer. I hope you’re hurting, and I hope you continue to hurt.”

  “Most days.” Anderson simply shrugged. “The Toralii consider themselves heroes for what they did, burning Earth, and their commanders sleep soundly in their beds every night. We judge others by their actions and us by our intentions. As for me? Well… I am no hero. That’s Liao’s role. All I did is put her on the road to—”

  “We’re done here,” Williams said. “Thank you for your honesty. Your shitty, shitty honesty.”

  With that, he turned and left, boots thumping on the metal. The door hissed open. Williams stepped through the doorway cautiously, arms by his sides and near his sidearm, as though expecting treachery.

  “Mister Abbot, Mister Suarez,” Anderson called to the marines outside his door, “please escort Captain Williams back to his vessel. Then take the rest of the day off.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Suarez said.

  Williams glared at them both in turn, hands by his sides as if expecting them to attack him at any moment, then started to walk.

  As the door closed, Anderson watched metal meet metal, sealing out the world beyond. He waited until the three of them were long gone, then pulled open a drawer on his desk with slow, careful deliberation, withdrew a pen, and wrote.

  Captain Williams is telling the truth.

  I did what I had to do. Captain Wolfe had nothing to do with this, nor did my crew. I acted alone.

  I hope you will thank me in time—if not, I am at ease with being consigned to the role of villain in our species’ history. Such is life.

  I wish there had been some other way.

  —Anderson

  He signed it, moved it to the centre of the desk, then put down the pen. Task complete, he moved to the large monitor that served as his personal computer, body aching the whole way. He could almost feel the cancer in his flesh, in his veins, in his bones, slowly eating him up from the inside. A cell had turned mutant, attacking its former peers. Then it had moved on to the nerve endings, then… everything. More cancer than man, indeed.

  A tap on his desk’s monitor bought up the outside space. A sea of black was punctuated by the lights of the fleet. Beautiful. He took a good long look, savouring the sight. He’d fought so hard to have his command, an
d while it would soon be gone, it was still his for the moment. A wet, hacking cough rose up in his throat; he let it out, bent over, spittle flying. No sense in hiding the truth from himself. When it was finished, he straightened up again, ready to move on.

  One more thing to do. Carefully, taking all the time in the world, Anderson withdrew his sidearm from his hip and put it under his chin.

  Peace in our time. All thanks to Liao.

  A squeeze of the trigger took the pain away with a thunderclap.

  ACT I

  CHAPTER I

  The Hanoi Hilton

  *****

  Interrogation Room

  Zar’krun

  Four months later

  “NAVAL CAPTAIN MELISSA NIU LIAO. People’s Republic of China. ID: 110100-2003-12-02-008-2.”

  The heat came again, searing flesh that had already scarred over. Familiar pain flew along Liao’s whole body, her legs and arm—even the stump of her missing limb—and light filled the room, revealing grey metal bulkheads in a windowless, featureless cube. Light shone from the twelve cracks where bulkheads met.

  [“It’s far beyond time for you to talk to me,”] Commandant Yarri’s voice was a ghostly disembodied presence that floated through the room from no discernible source. Her companion for her interrogations. [“Answer my questions and feel relief. What are Velsharn’s defences? What ships do you possess? Where is the rest of your fleet hiding?”]