Star Brigade: Ascendant (SB4)

by C. C. Ekeke

  Before Mhir’ujiid knew, she was surrounded by craggy brown earth dotted with tuffs of pale orange grass.

  And nausea crashed into her sinewy body.

  Mhir’ujiid’s knees folded beneath her. This “transmatting” always knotted the Farooqua’s stomach.

  She shook her head as the worst of the nausea passed and pushed upright. Looking up showed her clear pinkish skies.

  The Star Brigade military vessel had already rocketed away for Magnasterium, taking her heart with it. She remembered her words to Taorr before they parted.

  We’ll see each other again. Already, her body ached for his presence. Reminding herself of those final words gave her some comfort.

  The Farooqua turned her attention then to the two brilliant balls of light hovering high in the limitless Atma known as space.

  Faroor’s sun, so far in the limitless Atma, bathed the world in crimson light. The other one hung closer, a giant sphere dominating the skies, nearly canceling out their sun’s light. Faroor’s moon, Qos, or as Mhir’ujiid’s race called it, the Zenith Point. Mhir’ujiid had worshipped that potent moon her whole life, never fearing it. And then Ghuj’aega perverted the Zenith Point’s power for his own means.

  Mhir’ujiid pulled the hooded cloak Star Brigade had provided closer around her body. Her tribe must be warned. Every tribal nation must be warned.

  Standing before Mhir’ujiid were the Qiidr Mountains, a towering range of charcoal peaks. Frothy billows swaddled each summit, dribbling down the valleys between them.

  A smile played across the Farooqua’s thin lips. Star Brigade dropped her off exactly where she’d asked. Several Quud settlements resided on those tooth-like peaks, including Qiidr Ol-Chaeda, capital of the Quud Tribal Nation. There she would find her family who ruled over the Quud.

  “Home,” Mhir’ujiid signed in native Quud kineticabulary with dexterous fingers. Her father would be furious, which she’d expected.

  Mhir’ujiid marched the long, windy hike to Qiidr Ol-Chaeda’s secret location. The journey took less than two of what the Ttaunz called “orvs.” But Mhir’ujiid knew the best shortcuts through the mountains to enter undetected.

  Mhir’ujiid entered the western edge of Qiidr Ol-Chaeda’s Grand Plaza, and the sight greeting the Quud ripped her heart out. No bustling traffic or iokki were seen riding through the Grand Plaza. No Ttaunz younglings practicing blood memory rituals near temples representing the Six Totalities.

  What Mhir’ujiid saw instead were ruined lands and military force.

  Three temples, several massive circular platforms stacked atop larger ones like inverted tops, had been destroyed by lightning strikes. One was reduced to piles of smoking rubble scattered across the plaza. Another had half a dozen charred holes gaping through its length. No doubt the Quud would have to demolish it. The third structure had almost three top cylinder levels sheared off. That could be saved, yet the assessment was a small blessing. Mhir’ujiid had been inside each of those buildings for either worship or festive events countless times throughout her life.

  Now, thanks to Ghuj’aega and the Zenith Point, those wondrous relics were gone forever. Countless other statues and structures she’d known her whole life, some created centuries ago, had been reduced to piles of shattered rock. Taking in the whole spread of the city framed against the Qiidr Mountains, Mhir’ujiid sadly observed the damage to the majestic capital city. Curls of black smoke stained the fluffy white sky from several points around the city and its outskirts.

  Mhir’ujiid’s vision blurred with tears. And she hadn’t even processed seeing a Quud military.

  Standing in stiff formation among the ruined Grand Plaza weren’t ordinary citizens.

  Mhir’ujiid saw thousands of Quud warriors armed to the teeth, rangy male and female bodies hardened by continuous training drills. This resembled no training drill Mhir’ujiid had witnessed. It dawned on her then this must be the scene in every Quud city and village: an armed military in formation.

  She inhaled sharply. “The Quud are going to war.”

  Saying that out loud didn’t make the knowledge feel any less absurd. The Quud Tribal Nation had the most powerful Farooqua army, but rarely deployed it. The Quud had always quelled disputes between smaller tribes before weapons were ever drawn. For the largest tribal nation to prepare for war, her father must have had no choice.

  Or had Kyas’argiid been killed and someone else gave the order?

  No. Mhir’ujiid shook her head the way humans did to push away the horrible thought. Kyas’argiid is not dead, she told herself three times in a row.

  But who were they fighting?

  The Ttaunz Defense Force? The Quud girl quickly dismissed that. Had the Ttaunz been asking for retaliation? Absolutely. But despite the Quud territorial army’s might, Mhir’ujiid knew they were no match for the Ttaunz’s advanced technology and weapons. Her father knew that.

  The Ghebrekh? Star Brigade had essentially decimated the splinter tribe, not counting its disciples scattered among other tribal nations.

  Or were the Quud fighting Tribal Nations still supporting Ghuj’aega? Mhir’ujiid welcomed that.

  Only one way to know. Mhir’ujiid moved toward the towering pyramid at the Grand Plaza’s edge, keeping away from the columns of Quud warriors.

  She had to find her father and get answers.

  In Qiidr Ol-Chaeda’s narrower avenues, flanked by dark red homes stacked atop each other, Mhir’ujiid caught glimpses of inhabitants peeking from viewports at the lone traveler. Uncertainty ruled their every movement.

  It took little time before she sensed multiple approaches. Mhir’ujiid whirled, suddenly surrounded by nine Quud warriors. Their flat faces were grim, bodies coiled for action. Each wielded whips, spears, or toothed fans, brandishing their chosen weapons with clear expertise.

  Mhir’ujiid calmly raised both hands, fingers pressed together in surrender. They couldn’t see her face under the hooded cloak. She understood the extra security. Her late brother’s betrayal to the Ghebrekh had wounded the Quud deeply.

  “[Show yourself,]” the leader demanded, his spear prodding her back. Mhir’ujiid complied, pulling off the hood obscuring her face and green mohawk. The warriors all recoiled in surprise.

  Mhir’ujiid gestured her arms in fluid kineticabulary. “[You know my name. Now take me to my father.]”

  Ten macroms later, three of the guards escorted her through windy underground corridors. Glowing spheres lit the way, illuminating many spherical openings leading to occupied dwellings. Her father’s subterranean lair, used only when Qiidr Ol-Chaeda and the Quud were at war. Not a good sign.

  Mhir’ujiid was taken to one of the larger warrens. At least ten Quud warriors and advisers were present, Quud whom she had known since childhood. From outside, the mood in the room looked tight with repressed anger.

  Mhir’ujiid quickly spotted her mother, Okaeri’ujaad. The svelte yet firm Quud was part of Kyas’argiid’s inner circle. With a whip hanging from her belt, she gestured orders to a few warriors while eyeing territory maps on the table dominating the room’s center. Like her daughter, Okaeri’ujaad sported a similar wild mohawk cascading to her waist, but in darker green.

  Pressed against the wall were two of Mhir’ujiid’s younger brothers, silent observers soaking in their elders’ actions. And in the eye of the storm was father. Kyas’argiid wore his light-armored shoulder pads and chest plate made of shaved black petrified wood. His flattened face, scarred and weathered, was a mask of concentration while digesting news from a tall and bony adviser with a golden shock of hair. Seeing her father and mother unharmed, knee-buckling weight she hadn’t even noticed lifted off her shoulders.

  Mhir’ujiid’s mother was the first to spot her. She cried out anger and gratitude. “[Daughter!]” she sharply gestured one-handed.

  Everyone in the room saw her now. All discussion ceased. The already tense mood among her father’s advisers turned hostile. Clearly most cared little for her endless disobe
dience.

  Mhir’ujiid ignored them, locking eyes with Kyas’argiid’s.

  She longed to run and hug him before doing the same with her mother, to show her relief that they were unharmed.

  No, Mhir’ujiid reminded herself. Not in front of the High Chief’s subjects. Not during wartime. So she waited outside for her father’s permission to enter the war room.

  The high chief watched his daughter, stone-faced, not gesturing a word. The subtle tremble of his nostrils indicated how angry he was by his eldest daughter’s disappearance to help Star Brigade.

  But Mhir’ujiid’s news couldn’t wait. The lives of the Quud depended on it. She tilted her heard forward expectantly.

  After an unbearably long moment, Kyas’argiid flicked both pointer fingers left to right, saying, “[Everyone leave, except family.]”

  The other advisors quickly exited the room, none looking at Mhir’ujiid as they passed. Only she, her parents, and her younger siblings remained.

  “[Father—]” Mhir’ujiid made quick conciliatory gestures.

  Kyas’argiid raised a fist, knuckles facing the wall to silence her. She fought back a cringe. He was angry. She would suffer for her defiance. But Mhir’ujiid’s news couldn’t wait.

  “[You were right,]” the Quud high chief stated with slow gestures and shoulder rolls. “[The Quud should never have remained neutral about Ghuj’aega. We should have aided the Star Brigade openly.]”

  A shock ran through Mhir’ujiid’s body. “[Oh,]” was all she could gesture.

  Her mother approached and hugged Mhir’ujiid. Her younger siblings, two of the remaining nine, also embraced her.

  Okaeri’ujaad pulled away and cuffed her daughter upside the head. “[Still foolish,]” she scolded. “[Has Ghuj’aega been killed at least?]”

  Mhir’ujiid winced before telling her family about the battle at Akkabe Plateau. That included the discovery of their transport pillars, Maorridius Magnus’s recovery, and Ghuj’aega still being alive.

  After that last part, Kyas’argiid swore and began pacing heatedly. “[We have less time than expected.]” He looked to his wife, still pacing. “[Prepare messengers for the other tribal nations with my instructions. Now.]” The bite in her father’s voice startled Mhir’ujiid.

  Okaeri’ujaad calmly nodded and jogged from the room with her younger children in tow.

  Confused, Mhir’ujiid watched them vanish around the corridor corner. “[What is happening?]”

  Kyas’argiid stopped pacing and moved around the center table. “[The Quud are preparing for war.]”

  “[I see that,]” Mhir’ujiid replied with tart gestures. She didn’t like where this dialogue was headed. “[Against who?]

  Her father pointed to the maps of Quud lands, which took up a considerable swath of the terrain on its surface. “[Part of our army will engage tribes who openly supported Ghuj’aega. Their treachery cannot stand.]” Kyas’argiid fleetingly trembled with anger. Mhir’ujiid’s heart ached. She remembered how deep her brother’s betrayal cut. Her father continued, dark, shiny eyes fixated on the maps. “[I am sending messengers to the tribal nations that followed our lead and remained neutral.]”

  Mhir’ujiid felt somewhat relieved. “[And the rest of the army?]”

  Kyas’argiid looked up thoughtfully, his scarred face unyielding.

  Mhir’ujiid knew that look. Her father was about to reveal something she would not enjoy. “[What?]”

  The Quud high chief continued, “[The rest of the Quud forces will fan out to protect Quud lands against the Ttaunz. After your Taorr’s kidnapping, we knew retaliation would come.]”

  Mhir’ujiid felt sick to the bottom of her stomach. She could easily picture the destruction that could result in such a battle. Not a battle, a slaughter. Out of respect, she would never directly oppose her father. So she tried a different approach. “Father,” she gestured as calmly as she could manage. “[The Quud’s might is no match for the Ttaunz Defense Force. And if Union Command backs them—]”

  Kyas’argiid interrupted with impatient circular hand gestures. “[We hold the Ttaunz off until you are successful in your mission.]”

  Mhir’ujiid leaned away in surprise. “[My mission?]”

  Kyas’argiid approached until they stood eye to eye. He was a few inches taller, but his formidable presence dwarfed their interaction. “[I have consulted with our holy votaries. They might know of old ways that can disconnect a blessed Farooqua from the Zenith Point. We should have done this long before that abomination grew so powerful.]”

  Her father continued with wide arm gestures, remaining a grounded presence. “[You must go to your Ttaunz boy. Convince him and Star Brigade to give Ghuj’aega to the Quud so we destroy him.]”

  Mhir’ujiid cringed. Her father had known about Taorr for months and looked the other way. That didn’t make his inference any less awkward. But this mission worried her more. “[Father, that is impossible. I will never reach Taorr unless he comes to me. And the Ttaunz would not—]”

  “Does he love you, as I do your mother?” Kyas’argiid asked in spoken Standard. His voice sounded gravelly from scant usage.

  “Yes,” Mhir’ujiid immediately answered back. Even in this tense exchange, thinking about Taorr made her giddy.

  “Does he want what’s best for Faroor?”

  Mhir’ujiid nodded. “Utterly.” Taorr’s heart was bigger than any sentient’s she knew. “But how will that make the Ttaunz hand over that vile Ghuj’aega?”

  Kyas’argiid placed both hands on her shoulders. “Taorr must convince the Ttaunz to give Ghuj’aega over to the Tribal Nations.” For the first time in ages, Mhir’ujiid saw fear on her father’s battle-scarred face.

  “If not, Faroor’s end will just be the beginning of their worries.”

  ***

  The pinnacles of Magnasterium reached into the pinkish sky like jagged, golden blades. Taorr watched them through a viewport with both joy and dread. Joy came from the safety and familiarity of the home he was raised in. Dread came from being trapped in the same cycle that he longed to escape. Or worse, the cycle that could prevent him from being with Mhir’ujiid. He remembered their last words, their last kiss before she had been transmatted back to Quud tribal lands and away from his arms.

  We’ll see each other again. “We will,” he whispered. That had become Taorr’s vow.

  The pilot, an Ibrisian humanoid with orange segmented skin, jerked her head in Taorr’s direction. “What was that?” she asked, sounding sleep-deprived, but Taorr realized that was just the Ibrisian’s inflection.

  “Nothing.” Taorr shook his head, causing his freshly washed hair to jostle and spill down his shoulders. They now approached Magnasterium’s flight bay, a gaping mouth stretched open before them.

  Taorr nervously adjusted the baggy red flight suit given to him by Star Brigade, a welcome change from the soiled rags he’d worn for days. Being clean and free again felt wonderful. But with Ghuj’aega still alive yet captured, Taorr wasn’t sure he would ever feel safe.

  Not until that monster was dead. Taorr shuddered.

  “Taorr.”

  The Ttaunz jumped. His name was called by what resembled a high, cold wind. Then he remembered who was speaking. “Yes, Tyris?”

  The lanky Tanoeen dominated the entrance of the helm. “We’ve docked,” he said. “A squad of Ttaunz guards is waiting to take you to the Maorridius Magnus.”

  “My family.” Taorr had no idea what he would say to them. Especially his father, just waking from a coma lasting several months. Again, his heart was a vortex of emotions. Would Maorridius Magnus be proud of the Ttaunz that Taorr had become in his absence, trying to bridge the gulf between Farooqua and Ttaunz species?

  And mother. He smiled, knowing what having his father back would mean for her.

  Even Gaorr. Taorr couldn’t wait to see his younger brother despite their differences.

  His thoughts drifted back to the evil that had ripped him from his family. “Has that s
hip holding Ghuj’aega landed?” Taorr asked, desperate to know.

  Tyris’s beady eyes watched the Ttaunz unblinkingly. “The ship docked within a secret flight bay in Magnasterium’s rear,” he said, his voice hardening. “He won’t live long.”

  That gave Taorr some assurance, but not enough. Ghuj’aega was still breathing.

  The Tanoeen beckoned him forward with a tilt of his spiky head. “Time to see your family.”

  Taorr sighed and strode for the ship’s rear cargo hold. He wished each Star Brigadier goodbye and good luck in finding their teammates. Then, Taorr shared a long hug with Zojje.

  “What will you do now?” Taorr asked when he and the Kudoban pulled apart.

  “Medical treatment,” Zojje quipped in his triple-tenor voice. He raised the healed stump where his left forearm once was. Taorr swallowed a cringe. His hatred for Ghuj’aega reignited.

  Stay strong, Zojje counseled him telepathically. Fight for the life you want.

  Taorr nodded.

  After walking down the boarding ramp, he chuckled. “Small squad?” No less than twenty Ttaunz guards waited at the ramp’s end, all wearing gilded armor and carrying energy staves with sharp glowing tips. Despite their stony demeanors, all greeted him happily.

  Taorr acknowledged them and walked. After a brief translifter ride, Taorr entered the familiar luxurious hallways leading to the Magnal throne room, doused with strident blood-curdling screams. “Who—?”

  The lead guard gave him an uneasy look. “Someone who betrayed the Magnus.”

  I missed a lot, Taorr realized. The dazzling doors to the Magnal Throne room opened before him.

  As soon as he entered, the screaming stopped. Taorr took in the room’s vast opulence, the high-backed throne of Faroor’s Magnus, the warm yellow lighting.

  “Home,” Taorr whispered in awe. He saw three beings at the room’s opposite end, and all warmth nosedived.

  Lady Naejjo, his mother, looked glorious under the lighting. Her baby blue pelt had regained its sheen. She had cut her ivory hair finally in a short spiky styling typical of highborn, wearing elegant robes of midnight black Pallanorian silk.