by C. C. Ekeke
“Nice try, race traitor,” Europa crowed, winded but pleased. “Wanna break me? You’ll have to kill me.”
“Kill you? Where’s the fun in that?” Sam gave Jhori a nod of approval. Convince her to let us in.
Jhori smiled, his eyes turning pitch-black again. Instantly, Europa stiffened and squirmed again in her seat. Her eyes bulged as a restrained cry of pain came from deep in her throat. Europa’s scream grew louder to the point that she could no longer curtail it. Soon she was thrashing, trying her hardest to escape the ubiquitous pain. This went on several macroms. On and off. On and off.
Jhori gave Europa brief moments of respite…and then snatched it away. The Korvenite took great pleasure in that.
Sam looked on, her soul empty of compassion for this xenophobe. Anything?
Jhori shook his head. Her defenses are holding.
Sam’s nostrils flared. “I’m getting bored,” she announced with a flicker of annoyance, strolling closer to her prisoner. “And when I get bored, I get creative. Tell me what I want to know. Or Jhori here will really have to hurt you.”
“You psychotic bitch!” Europa gasped for breath, no longer even patronizing.
“And you’re the worst that humanity has to offer.” Sam grabbed Europa by the jaw, trembling with disgust. “Your cult of racist, unevolved cretins believe humans should go back to the way things were three centuries ago. You hate other species just because they’re not earthborn. That makes you cancerous. Therefore, I’ll treat you as such.”
She gave Hanson a hard shove back into her seat, nodding at Jhori. “Be as creative as you like until she cracks.”
The Korvenite’s joy was as obvious as Europa’s horror. Jhori stepped forward and began employing a buffet of psychic anguish.
Torture had been Jhori’s previous job when part of the Korvenite Independence Front’s first manifestation over five years ago. And he was very good.
The torment began with the illusion of knives stabbing Europa’s arms and legs repeatedly. For half an orv.
Every “stab wound” shivered through her body, making her shriek louder each time.
Europa’s psychic defenses held.
Jhori followed up with sensory deprivation, first taking Europa’s smell, then sight, then hearing, then touch, and finally taste. The prisoner’s howls filled the safe house, as did the smell of her losing control of her bowels.
Europa’s psychic defenses held.
Sam wrinkled her nose, but kept a steady gaze during Europa’s torment. “Continue.”
Then came Jhori’s Illusions of cardiac arrest. Hanson’s body convulsed like someone whose heart was exploding within their chest.
Then Jhori stopped. Started again, and then stopped. Started again, and then stopped.
Over and over.
Still, Europa’s defenses held.
Sam finally had to turn away, closing her eyes shut. Europa’s screams no longer sounded earthborn, crimsonborn, or even stormborn human.
Falling back into old habits was so easy, felt so…good. Getting the job done by any means, punishing the wicked all felt so good. That revolted Sam most. My worst self is my true self. If her Brigade family knew this side of her, truly knew, they’d be appalled.
Who could blame them? Sam shuddered, closing her eyes even tighter.
But she was doing this for them. And Tharydane.
Sam wouldn’t stop until the Children of Earth were defeated and the Korvenites were safe.
“Please,” a whisper broke through her musings.
She opened her eyes, angling her gaze in Europa’s direction.
The prisoner sagged back in the chair, no fight left in her. “Make it stop,” Europa begged, her voice hoarse from the screaming. “Please.”
“You want the pain to end?” Sam faced this broken woman fully, feeling nothing. She crouched in front of Europa with a simple question. “What are you going to do for me?”
“I’ll cooperate,” Europa pleaded, sweat drenching her face. She sounded so fragile, as if one poke would shatter her to pieces. “I’ll be good. Just please stop.”
Sam gave Jhori a searching look. Is she serious?
He nodded. Her mind’s opening up.
“Go deep,” Sam ordered briskly. “Complete control.”
Europa gaped. “I said I’d cooperate—AAAH.” Her horrified expression bled away as Jhori telepathically took hold. Then Europa’s eyes turned pitch-black from iris to whites, her face going slack.
Hanson wilted in her seat like a puppet cut from its strings.
“Now.” Sam stood up with grim satisfaction. “What is your relationship with M’Kuvuh Markan-Enthyra?”
“I work at a UComm private contractor as my cover job,” Hanson said, sounding bloodless and robotic. “It’s the perfect cover to speak with M’Kuvuh.”
“Are you in contact with other UniPol officials?” Sam asked. M’Kuvuh’s involvement could be the tip of the iceberg, which concerned her most.
“Just M’Kuvuh,” Europa replied flatly. “The Kintarian sends the Children of Earth Korvenites to experiment on and hides the labs they’re delivered to. She gives UniPol a few CoE locations here and there to avoid suspicion.”
Sam’s nostrils flared. She could hear Jhori’s sharp inhalation of breath. Understandable. So that traitorous piece of shit M’Kuvuh had been giving Star Brigade shit locations for months to cover her own ass. The admission was galling. “What are those experiments?”
A trace of a smile tugged at Europa’s lips. “Something that will reveal the Korvenites as menaces and abominations of nature.”
Christ. Sam shook her head in disgust, daring a glance at Jhori. The Korvenite’s face was an empty mask. Sam could only guess what emotions roiled through his mind. “Who reached out to who first?”
“I found her and our professional relationship began from there.”
Sam pressed further. “Did M’Kuvuh help you hide the CoE’s primary paramilitary bases?”
Europa nodded. “Yes.”
Music to Sam’s ears. She finally felt some guiltless joy from this interrogation. “Location?”
Europa opened her mouth, but only a grunt came out. Her face contorted like someone either in pain or confusion. Some part of her was still resisting Jhori.
Sam’s joy quickly soured. “Location!” she barked.
Europa had extra psychic blocks around that data, Jhori chimed in. Removed them. The location has moved three times thanks to M’Kuvuh’s warnings but remained within the Mynar Sector. Currently it’s within Zeid. No specific coordinates.
Sam gaped at Jhori and then Europa. “Those motherfuckers have been right under our noses?” She almost smacked this bitch again, not caring if she knocked out some teeth. But that wouldn’t get what she needed. Inside Zeid’s atmosphere there had to be over a hundred gas mining stations, settlements, and military installations, including Hollus Maddrone. A thorough search could take weeks. The Children of Earth could be gone by the time CT-2 found the precise location.
Want me to hollow her out? Jhori asked. Make her a vegetable?
“Tempting, but no,” Sam decided after an internal debate. She couldn’t afford tipping the CoE off until CT-1 found their lab. “Clean Europa up and wipe her memories of this encounter. Make her only remember falling asleep during a long drive. Then we return Hanson to her hovercar.”
Jhori looked disappointed, but nodded obediently.
“Also.” Sam caught her associate by the elbow. “Remember your first job for me? Give her that same suggestion.”
Twenty macroms later, Jhori had Europa cleaned up mentally and telepathically. The change of clothes also helped. She looked untouched by the Korvenite’s brutal torture. Sam gave their unconscious prisoner a quick inspection before nodding in approval. And not a moment too soon. Less than half an orv before Europa needed to return to her daily routine.
What next? Jhori asked. He enjoyed their outings from the Korvenite facilities.
Aft
er what Europa had revealed, Sam knew her next move. “I visit an old friend.”
Jhori perked up. Are we interrogating them, too?
“No.” Sam dismissed the question with a shake of her head, amused by the Korvenite’s eagerness. “He’s an actual friend. Or a professional acquaintance—” An incessant wristcom beep interrupted Sam.
She looked down. Bevrolor. Did she have an update from CT-1? Sam’s heart leaped.
“Gotta take this.” She walked to a far corner of the safe house. “Get her ready for transport.”
Sam tapped her wristcom to accept the transmission. “Heatstroke here.”
“Bevrolor heard from CT-1,” Bevrolor’s gruff voice answered. “The update came from Reign himself.”
Relief washed away the anxiety knotting up in Sam’s chest. “Thank God.” Habraum was safe. CT-1 was safe. “What did he say?”
“CT-1 is looking for ways to exterminate their target. And…” The Nubrideen hesitated a moment too long. “Crescendo is missing in action.”
Sam’s heart sank. “Oh God.”
Chapter 19
“This doesn’t look good,” V’Korram growled, fixated on the viewscreen.
Habraum found that assessment spot-on. The Phaeton was within miles of a possibly explosive situation.
He stood next to V’Korram, Khrome, and Marguliese with Solrao at the helm, observing the standoff surrounding Magnasterium palace.
A score of white and red Ttaunz Defense Force cruisers, triangular-shaped with weapons arrays glittering. One of those ships held Ghuj’aega in its cargo hold. Over two score UComm Mercury-class gunboats, long and barrel-shaped and cobalt blue, all their weapons arrays armed.
The comm channels exploded with back-and-forth military posturing. UComm ordering the Ttaunz to stand down. Ttaunz threatening to fly off-world. Everyone yelling over each other with weapons primed to fire. Nobody moving or firing.
Meanwhile, Faroor’s pale pink skies still shook from skyquakes and crackling lightning storms.
“The Ttaunz are being mutinous,” Marguliese noted, unamused by this scene. “Union Command’s military authority supersedes their own.”
Habraum nodded. If UComm lets this slide, they look weak. Not a good precedent for other Union memberworlds. “Patch me into this slap fest, audio only.”
After Solrao did, Habraum steeled himself before speaking. “Attention. This is Captain Habraum Nwosu from the Strategic Assault & Reconnaissance Brigade,” he boomed. The Ttaunz and UComm argument subsided. “Right now, Ghuj’aega is too dangerous to move off Faroor.”
“Ghuj’aega is being moved to an offworld prison for the safety of Faroor’s Union citizens,” a singsongy Ttaunz male replied. “There, he will be tried for his monstrous crimes.”
“I understand your zeal,” Habraum replied. “My unit has a possible strategy to depower Ghuj’aega—”
“Like Star Brigade had a strategy to kill him?” that same Ttaunz interrupted. “Forgive us Ttaunz if we don’t have much stock in that.”
Habraum muted Phaeton’s comms and eyed Khrome on his left. “Who’s this?” he asked, annoyed.
“Jaoffa son of Joffoa,” the Thulican said. “Faroor’s New Defense Minister.”
“New?” Confused, the Cerc turned to Marguliese on his right. “What happened to Haemekk?”
“Executed for treason,” she replied. “By order of Maorridius Magnus.”
“OH.” Habraum gaped at the viewscreen. “That’d do it.” He unmuted the comms. “Star Brigade had Ghuj’aega dead to rights until TDF’s interference. So why don’t you do as ordered and stay out of our business, sprout.”
Gasps sounded from the Ttaunz contingent. Stifled chuckles rippled from UComm’s side. Khrome openly guffawed.
“Nwosu,” said Commander Jheygo Iort, one of UComm’s PLADECO military chiefs on Ttaunz. “Glad you’re unharmed. Much as I agree with you, what is the danger of moving Ghuj’aega offworld?”
“Keeping him far from Qos,” Habraum said without hesitation or anxiety, despite the overwhelming state of affairs. “He’s connected somehow to Qos and all the weather chaos.”
“But Ghuj’aega is wearing inhibitors,” Jaoffa protested, fighting for his relevancy. “Without powers, he’s another underfed Farooqua terrorist. And with his Ghebrekh followers destroyed—”
“Are you deaf?” Habraum barked crossly. Behind him, V’Korram snorted in amusement. “He’s still connected to the Zenith Point. Once he’s disconnected from it, hold all the tribunals you want.”
“Sounds agreeable,” Commander Iort said. “It’s your only option, Jaoffa. Ghuj’aega harming non-Faroor citizens made this an interplanetary incident. Meaning UComm’s now in charge.”
A long silence passed, laden with tension. Habraum waited with CT-1 behind him, hushed and motionless. Onscreen, every ship waited.
“You speak crudely, and correctly,” Jaoffa spoke again with clear distaste. This one clearly hated losing. “We will move him to a megamax UComm base on Faroor.”
“UComm moves him to that megamax facility,” Sergeant Fiyan corrected. Habraum welcomed hearing her voice. Jaoffa muttered something rude before agreeing to those terms.
All TDF ships turned around and soared back into Magnasterium. The UComm gunboats remained. And Habraum felt the tension bleed away.
“That could’ve gone south,” Khrome exclaimed with his usual amusement.
V’Korram prodded Habraum’s shoulder. “Have them muzzle Ghuj’aega’s mouth.”
When the Cerc eyed him in surprise, the Kintarian added, “A precaution.”
Habraum nodded. “Commander Iort. Make sure you muzzle the prisoner.”
“Understood. Nwosu,” the Cressonish said. “Thanks for defusing that situation. But I want all your plan’s details.”
Great, since I don’t even know half of it. Habraum grimaced. “You’ll have it when we land on Magnasterium.”
He then marched directly to the cell holding his other self, demanding more information.
“The Particulate didn’t reveal much.” The other Habraum shrugged. “Only that the Farooqua have ways to decouple someone connected to the Zenith Point. You’ll need the Quud and at least three other major tribes.”
Habraum bucked his teeth at another non-answer. “That’s as lolly-brained a response as I’ve ever heard.”
The other Habraum looked irritated. “If you’re not up for the task, release me and I’ll explain—”
“You’ll do no such thing,” the Cerc cut him off. Cutting myself off? He had lost patience with his other self’s obstinacy. “I’ll make this work somehow.”
The other Habraum’s golden eyes glittered dangerously. “I’ll break out of this cage if that’s what it takes to stop Ghuj’aega.”
Habraum approached the prison barrier. His mouth was a grim line. “First off, ‘Habraum,’” he swallowed the disbelief of saying his own name in the third person. “If you try anything stupid like trying to escape, you’ll be knees up before you know it. Secondly, if another Habraum Nwosu appears and tells UComm where he’s from, you never see your universe again. That what you want?”
The other Habraum seethed in silence, his cartridge empty. The ship shook from another lengthy skyquake. Stronger than the last few.
“Exactly. Settle down and shut it.” Habraum turned and marched from the room.
Once they landed in Magnasterium’s flight bays, Khal and Tyris boarded the cruiser wearing plain fatigues. Habraum greeted them eagerly.
“Good to have you back, Captain,” Tyris said, extending a gloved hand.
Habraum shook it readily. “Good to be back. Thank you for keeping CT-1 together in my absence.” Maybe it was because Habraum hadn’t seen his Tanoeen commander in some time, but his ice crystalline exterior appeared shinier than before. As if he’s melting. The Cerc brushed off the inane dread as he shook Khal’s hand as well. “Stellar work, Abdullah. This lot’s spoken highly of your performance.”
The Nahra
ini looked ready to say something smug. But he caught himself and accepted the compliment with a gracious nod. “Thank you, sir.”
The Cerc glanced at Khrome and V’Korram “Do these know?” He inclined his head toward the cargo hold, where his other self was.
“Negative,” Marguliese said.
Tyris and Khal looked confused. “Know about what?”
“We decided not to discuss that over any channels,” Khrome said. “Encrypted or not.”
“Good call.” Habraum headed for Phaeton’s open ramp. “Get them up to speed. Now I’ve got a half-arsed plan to sell the UComm brass.”
“Habraum.”
The Cerc stopped and faced Marguliese, statuesque and willowy in her sleeveless unisuit. “Yea, Maggie?”
Halolights glinted off the Cybernarr’s golden skin and metallic arm. “Do you believe he is reliable?’” Habraum understood whom Marguliese referred to. He wanted to say yes, but his doubts were too strong to ignore. “We’ll find out, yea?”
Habraum headed for the flight bay’s exit. He met Commander Iort and a throng of UComm higher officers in a private command center, awash with blinking lights and viewscreens.
Rogguts, Habraum cursed, not expecting such a large crowd. He hid his surprise behind a broad smile and laid out the gist of his “plan,” which mainly focused on the Farooqua’s assistance. Of course the Cerc kept alternate universes and the Particulate out of his speech. That’ll wait until my mission debriefing.
Many UComm officials weren’t fans of relying on the Farooqua for anything. “They didn’t lift a finger to help us when Ghuj’aega was slaughtering Ttaunz and then non-Ttaunz all over Faroor,” a stocky Galdorian argued, his eyestalks curved in anger. “Why help now?”
Habraum countered these arguments with variations of the same answer. “The Farooqua want peace as much as the UComm. They also deserve equal treatment. From my brief time among the Quud, the Farooqua have a distinct knowledge about Qos and its powers.”
“Which could be legends and tattshi,” a Ttaunz official stated, golden yellow in pelt.
“Maybe,” Habraum said. “Better to find out from them directly than have another Korvenite calamity, yea?” That silenced nearly all dissent.
