Lacuna: Demons of the Void (14 page)

Iraj opposed relationships between crew members on the same ship for this exact reason. He felt that, no matter how careful one was, it wasn’t possible to separate your duty from your loved ones... Even if those loved ones were merely bunk-buddies, they were obviously something more than friends. It wasn’t a reflection on the character of the person; it was merely human nature.

Some people who thought this way opposed the participation of females in the military at all, believing them to be the cause of all the mischief (or that, at least, removing them would remove the opportunity, homosexuality aside). But the reality was that it had nothing to do with that at all. It was merely common sense... or so he felt.

Iraj was only interested in men anyway, but in all his years of service he had never taken a partner, so he liked to hold his behaviour up as an example of how to do it right.

Pushing all of these thoughts out of his mind, Kamal rapped his knuckles on the metal hatchway that lead to Grégoire’s quarters.

“
Shit!”
came a hushed, female voice from inside. Then a louder one, male and deep.

“This is Captain Grégoire’s quarters and I asked not to be disturbed. If this is another one of the reporters, I told you, I’ll be granting an interview in the morning-”

“It’s Commander Iraj, sir, of the navy of the Islamic Republic of Iran, here to report to Commander Liao. I’m here to replace Commander Sheng as her first officer, and I would like to have the chance to speak with her informally before we begin serving together...”

A pause, just a little too long to be believable. “...She’s not here. Have you tried checking the
Beijing
, or calling over the radio? Why would she be? ...This isn’t her ship!” More hushed conversation, then, “...She’s not here.”

“I haven’t checked the
Beijing
, no, sir, because I’m afraid that she’s in your quarters.” He paused a moment, taking in a breath. “The reporters saw you going in. Apologies.”

There was a quiet, feminine sigh from inside, then the sound of feet moving on metal deck. After a moment’s pause, a sheepish Melissa Liao – her short hair messed from the night’s activities and a towel wrapped clumsily around her body – peeked out from the crack in the door. She regarded the man dejectedly.

“The reporters saw me go in? Great, just... great.”

“Sorry, Commander. I know these are not ideal circumstances for us to meet, but...”

She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. You couldn’t have anticipated...”

Iraj peered closer. “Are... are you okay, Commander? You look very pale...”

“No, I’m fine. Just hung over. A little too much excitement last night I fear, and a little too much scotch.”

“...Oh.”

There was an awkward silence. Iraj glanced over his shoulder, then back to his commanding officer. “Don’t worry, Commander. I’m not going to say anything, although I fear
they
know everything already.”

“Your discretion with this matter would be appreciated, although you’re probably right...”

Iraj pondered this. “Time will tell,” he began, the beginnings of a frown forming on his lips, “...and I hope that the press respects your right to privacy. A faint hope, but... May I come in? I have something to discuss with you that can’t wait.”

Liao sighed, then beckoned him inside. She carefully kept the towel wrapped around herself, sitting on James’ couch. James pulled on a pair of boxers and Liao noticed – with some degree of curiosity and amusement in equal measure – that Iraj’s eyes were drawn to the brief glance of the naked man’s dark backside as he did so. Hers were not long behind.

She mused over the situation for a moment, grinning inwardly. Mister Iraj wouldn’t be the first gay sailor the navy’d ever seen. Rum, sodomy and the lash, as they used to say...

Liao returned her attention to her new first officer. “How can I help you, Mister Iraj?”

The Iranian turned back to Melissa, folding his hands in his lap. “I’m concerned about the security of the Toralii we’ve captured. There’s a lot of hostility on board both ships about its presence. It’s understandable, really, but...”

“Her
name
is Saara.”

“I, uh-... apologize, Captain. Of course... her name is Saara.”

Liao folded her arms, despite the towel draped around her midsection. “Saara’s been cooperating with us so far, and what she’s told us has been a significant source of intelligence for the task force. Her safety is a high priority to me and to the crew of my ship... I expect you to understand that.”

“I know, Captain. I’m merely... worried about her safety. Your orders to transfer her to the
Tehran
were surprising to me, since you are keeping Lieutenant Yu on the
Beijing
. All this time spent learning their language will be for nothing if-”

“What? Wait, transferred?” Liao sat up straight, now, glancing to Grégoire in confusion. “James? Did you order Saara be moved to the
Tehran
?”

His look of confusion and alarm said it all.

Iraj shook his head. “No, Captain, I don’t think you understand – the orders had
your
signature on them. The marines were given them by Sheng himself...”

James gave Kamal a confused look. “You’re sure? It had Melissa’s signature on the transfer forms?”

“Absolutely, Captain. I saw it myself.”

“
Shit!”
Liao stared at Kamal as realization dawned. “Sheng... it’s Sheng, and he’s taking Saara to the
Tehran
... but why? Did he possibly think I wouldn’t
notice
her being transferred
?
”

Throwing aside the towel, Liao began picking up her clothes. Both James and Iraj raised their left eyebrows at her sudden nakedness – something Melissa found, for some reason, vaguely amusing – but said nothing. Liao mused aloud as she pulled on her uniform.

“He’s taking her to the
Tehran
... but that doesn’t make sense! Whatever he’s planning to do to her, he could just as easily do on the
Beijing
... What’s over there that he could want? And why would he take Saara?”

Nobody knew. They dressed and stepped outside James’ quarters. Just as the door was about to close, James stuck his boot in. Disappearing inside, he returned with the sidearm taken from the locker inside his quarters. He loaded it with a full magazine, pulling back the slide with a dull ‘clink’, easing it forward, then gently lowered the hammer with his thumb.

“Hope you’re not planning on using that,” Iraj observed with some degree of concern.

James started walking down the corridor, motioning for them to follow. “Neither do I.”

*****

Corridor Six, near Operations

TFR
Tehran

Minutes later

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that Commander Liao.”

The marines standing before her kept their rifles trained on the three of them. James pushed his way to the front, the scowl on his face harder than the deck plating he walked on.

“
Stand down
, Warrant Officer Cheung. I am the Captain of this vessel and you will-”

“I’m afraid I can’t obey that order, Captain Grégoire, as you’re not the commanding officer of this vessel any longer. You’ve been legally relieved of command by Commander Sheng and ordered to report to the brig.”

Grégoire raised an eyebrow at that. The dark-skinned man glanced over his shoulder to Liao, then back to Yanmei Cheung. “Have I, now? On what grounds?”

The marine warrant officer tightened her grip on her rifle, keeping it fixed on Grégoire’s centre of mass. She was apprehensive and nervous; Liao, Sheng and Grégoire could all see that she was merely following order she did not necessarily agree with. “Your support of the actions of Commander Liao, who has also been similarly relieved, along with Commander Iraj.”

Liao felt as though she could break the bulkheads around her in half if given the chance. Her anger, though, was buried beneath the cold steel exterior of a naval Captain. Instead of showing the boiling rage she felt bubbling beneath the surface, she instead projected the cool visage of a woman who was obviously displeased, but was in full control of her substantial anger.

“And what regulation did Commander Liao disobey, Warrant Officer, serious enough to justify not only relieving
her
of command, but
myself
as well,
and
her XO? Go on... enlighten me.”

“Commander Liao has been sheltering one of the Demons, Captain, a fact well known to half the fleet at this point. I’ve seen it myself.”

James held his ground, staring down the marine with a gaze of steel. “My understanding, Warrant Officer Cheung, is that the People’s Navy in conjunction with the Task Force Resolution are empowered to take and keep prisoners, and that as part of that empowerment, are obligated to feed, clothe and care for them.” His tone became caustic. “Or perhaps the huge data mine of intelligence garnered from this operation, at basically
no
cost, is of no value to Commander Sheng?”

“Commander Sheng believes that keeping the creature on board is dangerous. He believes that they attacked Earth without provocation and that they should be offered neither latitude nor quarter. He also believes that Commander Liao is reckless with her command and that he relieved her according to protocol, so-”

“What do
you
believe?”

Yanmei did not answer but the barrel of her rifle twitched slightly. Speaking firmly and evenly, Grégoire held out his hand. “Your rifle, please.”

“You’ve been relieved of duty. I... I can’t.”

James tilted his head forward, his hand remaining outstretched. He was no more and no less insistent. “The orders you have received
are in error
. They are given by a man who has
no
authority to give them... and his actions are not approved by the Task Force Resolution council. So accordingly you and I are not to be held to them. His actions constitute not the legal relief of duty, but
mutiny
. You can either stand with him, and be punished accordingly when this mess is sorted out, or you can continue to do your duty with honour and come take that bastard back to his cell, where he belongs.”

Considering for a moment, Cheung looked conflicted. She glanced behind her at the other marines and then, seeming to come to a conclusion, slowly lowered her rifle. Liao took it from her, nodding her thanks and shouldering the weapon. With the marines in tow, the three of them headed towards the
Tehran’s
Operations room.

*****

Operations

TFR
Tehran

The three officers, along with the marines, stormed into the Operations room to find it abuzz with activity. Sheng paced about the deck like he owned the place, and he looked up when they stormed in, immediately signalling a nearby marine.

“Master at arms, remove these-”

“Belay that command.” James strode into Operations, his pistol in hand and resting comfortably by his side. “Master at arms, on my authority I order you to relieve Sheng of duty and confiscate his sidearm.”

The Master at arms, a youthful looking NCO with a confused look on his face, looked awkwardly between the two parties.

Sheng fully turned to face the intruders now, frowning darkly. “No, belay
that
command. These three traitors are supposed to be in their cells.” He glanced to Cheung, frowning darkly. “But it seems they’ll soon have company. Captain Grégoire and his co-conspirators have been properly relieved for their actions and they should
not
be here.”

Liao stepped forward, her rifle pointed straight at Sheng’s heart. “Indeed. And what actions are these, mmm? Mining a prisoner for intelligence? Pray tell me,
Sheng
, you brave and foolish little dove... How is that worthy of mutiny?”

“Hah... she acts so
innocent
. As you wish, Commander, I will shed some illumination on this matter.” Sheng gestured with an arm. “Sergeant, bring out the prisoner.”

Liao’s heart almost broke at what she saw, and she could hear James take in a sharp breath. The marines loyal to Sheng dragged out Saara’s limp form as though they were dragging a sack of potatoes. Her dark purple blood streaked her fur and her bloodstained face was adorned with rough, swollen bruises.

She had been cut and burned, with sections of her fur on her back missing as though they had trashed her with a cane. It seemed as though the marines didn’t know what to really do to hurt the Toralii, so they started from the very basics and worked their way up with various degrees of success.

The marines unceremoniously dropped her on the deck. Saara didn’t move. Liao couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.

“You see,” Sheng began, “I agree with your ideas, but I disapprove of your methods. Yes, knowledge was gained, but what was it...
intelligence
? More like
stories
...   What use are stories to us? What use is folklore?
Language exchange?
We needed weapons, technology, information... the location of their home world! That is valuable information, not...” he snorted, “...not stories about ‘peace in the village’, spouted by hypocritical warmongers.”