by C. C. Ekeke
The Monaskoan slid into the opposite side of their booth. He took a quick glance out the viewport they sat beside, offering a sweeping view of the Basin’s patchy grasslands.
“You said you got answers about my transmission?”
“The one with five encryption layers?” D’Sake warbled.
“Yep.” Glancing around, Sam leaned closer. “You’ve verified the owners of that Zeid facility? I haven’t had much luck.”
To her relief, D’Sake nodded. “A call would have sufficed, Sierra.”
“And miss the gift of your presence?” Sam licked the BBQ sauce off her fingers suggestively. The increased rolling atop D’Sake’s skull amused her. “I was onworld and nearby.” Not entirely true. Sam needed an authentic retinal scan that a holotransmission call couldn’t achieve. Now I have it. “Tell me about the facility?”
“It’s a UniPol property,” D’Sake explained. “Previously a training center decades ago. Then it became a black site whenever…enhanced interrogations…were needed.”
That clearly bothered D’Sake. Good thing he doesn’t know what I did to Europa Hanson. “Does it still serve as a black site?”
D’Sake bobbed his head up and down, which meant “no” in Monaskoan dialect. “Decommissioned three years ago. Except to occasionally store UniPol vessels. I sent you a detailed report.”
Externally, Sam appeared rapt. On the inside, a part of her was dying. So UniPol, or a rogue faction within, was helping the CoE capture Korvenites and create a virus to eradicate them? Christ on a comet! “This has been a huge help.” Sam forced herself to smile as she stood up. “Thanks, D’Sake!”
D’Sake appeared surprised, his bulging eyes flattening. “Already leaving?”
Sam shrugged as she headed toward the door. “Places to go, people to help.”
D’Sake’s gaze followed her as she left, his head making a complete 180 degree turn on his neck. “My pleasure, Sierra.”
“Likewise. Try the galaxy’s greatest coleslaw!”
How did it go? Jhori asked when she entered her shuttlecraft. The Korvenite had been waiting here during her meeting.
“Peachy,” Sam replied, plopping into the pilot’s seat beside him. The past two days of constant travel had leeched at her endurance, but the quick meal helped. “I’ll drop you off on Calliste.” Pulling off her infolenses, Sam revved up her shuttle. They lifted off from the dusty plains outside of Lincoln city-state and hurtled up for the starry heavens.
Sam then contacted Hollus Maddrone. “Surje. You get my full-body scan of D’Sake?”
“I received it. Your scan,” the Voton answered in his usual staccato cadence. “I’m crafting a duplicate login,” he said.
Within macroms Surje completed the false D’Sake ID. “What am I accessing? With this ID?”
“M’Kuvuh’s connection to this Zeid property,” Sam replied, drawing a stare from Jhori. “We’re slicing in to get more details.”
Surje didn’t sound thrilled. “Won’t your contact get in trouble? With his superiors?”
Sam knew the risk, but the end goal was worth it. “I’ll make it up to him. Proceed.”
With that, Surje accessed the UniPol Sub-Level archives as D’Sake. Sam watched on her holoscreen as the Voton ran a search query on M’Kuvuh and the Zeid property.
After sifting through some useless interrelated records, the query found eighteen hits. “Copying the records—” Surje stopped and panicked. “Lights be gone! My search got flagged.”
Sam’s heartrate spiked, but on the outside she remained contained. “Copied everything?”
“Yes. All eighteen,” Surje answered after a long moment.
“Get out of there.”
The UniPol search results vanished from Sam’s holoscreen. “Logged out,” the Voton sighed, moments later. “They might have flagged the fake ID.”
Sam swore. Dubious loyalties aside, Addison was light-years better at discrete data-slicing than Surje. “Did they see anything about your search?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Sam let her shoulders sag in relief. “What did you find?”
“M’Kuvuh was using a tech contractor named Universal Dynamics.”
From his seat, Jhori snorted. Sam’s features hardened in contempt. “Sounds like a Children of Earth shell company. When did they start work on the Zeid site?”
“Six weeks after the Battle of Terra Sollus,” Surje said.
“Two weeks after M’Kuvuh’s discussions with the CoE began,” Sam added.
“They outfitted the site with new fortifications and lab equipment,” the Voton continued. “M’Kuvuh was the only UniPol agent to oversee the project. As far as these records state, he was the sole liaison for what UniPol requisitioned to be a new research lab.”
She frowned as suspicion nettled her chest. “Jesus. Either several UniPol officials are in on this, making them corrupt and awful. Or this murder lab got built under UniPol’s noses, making them incompetent and dumb as fuck.” Neither was a good look for UniPol.
Sam shook her head, glancing at her viewport. They had just passed out of Terra Sollus’s shadow. Sam observed the view of Rhyne and its churning radiance. Beyond that was Calliste, the Union capitalworld’s largest satellite, under an orv away. The massive ball of grey, caramel, and brown basked in the star’s glory, floating against a pitch-black expanse dotted in sparkling diamonds.
She returned focus to Surje. “Good work on this. Package that into the rest of the data we have on M’Kuvuh. What about the Raichoudry investigation?” Sam demanded bluntly.
“Well,” Surje began, a strange heaviness weighing down his tone. “I still haven’t verified if the slicer in contact with the Children of Earth is her. Addison, that is.”
Sam sat bolt upright. “You brought this suspicion on Addison to me. Now you can’t properly ID this traitor on Hollus?” she snapped. She didn’t plan on yelling, but frustration and travel fatigue had sapped her patience. “What’s the holdup?”
“The encryption level is more complicated,” the Voton protested, “than I originally thought. I need more time—”
“You have until I return to Hollus Maddrone,” Sam barreled over him. This investigation had dragged on long enough. Either Addison was a traitor all this time or she wasn’t. Either way, Sam would get answers. “If not, I’m taking over this investigation.” She ended the transmission without waiting for Surje’s reply.
Immediately afterward, she received another transmission. The caller’s ID further plutoed Sam’s already sour mood.
“Raichoudry,” she answered with stiff distaste that made Jhori smirk. At least someone’s amused.
“Captain,” Addison replied with equal aversion. “I discovered something else about the Children of Earth case. Very urgent.”
Sam arched an eyebrow. “Go tell Surje.”
“Can’t,” Raichoudry interrupted. “I’d rather show you first before disseminating among CT-2.”
Sam clenched her teeth, mouthing a string of curses before responding. “Spill it.”
“More secure if I show you face-to-face. As soon as possible.”
This motherfucker…! “Fine. I’ll see you in under two orvs.”
She looked at Jhori after the transmission ended. “Guess we’ll stop by Hollus Maddrone first. I’ll be needing your talents yet again.”
Of course Jhori nodded his shaved head eagerly. Just tell me the who and the what.
“I think you already know.” Sam felt less guilt over her plans for Raichoudry than she did with Europa. The Brigadier steeled herself before making another transmission. “Hey,” she greeted when the recipient answered.
“Hey Sam,” Jan’Hax’s oily, nonchalant voice filled the helm.
“Remember asking if you could help? No questions asked?”
“Of course,” the Ciphereen replied.
A smile played across Sam’s lips. “Music to my ears, Jan.” Aside from Khal and at times V’Korram, Jan’Hax was her most r
eliable asset for these types of tasks. “We need to talk about Addison Raichoudry.”
***
“Sorry for yelling so colorfully at the screen earlier!” Orion Campos stated with barely restrained calm, only to quickly loose his cool. “But how could they leave us hanging with that??” The earthborn man was tall and heavyset, both arms sleeved in tattoos. And Orion was a Far Side of the Galaxy megafan, the very reason he and Tharydane had become friends.
“Well,” she laughed, smoothing out her grey tank top and dark green cargo pants. “Nothing says love like flying a torpedo into an asteroid before it collides with your soulmate’s homeworld, then having to manually detonate when its guidance systems fail.”
“Don’t forget how Hiraph took that cage fight to pay off his idiot brother’s debt to that crime lord,” Loroorol warbled on Tharydane’s other side. The three-legged Ikarian was squat like a fire hydrant from Old Earth, with crusty white skin and a triangular-shaped head. “And how much he loved getting back into those illegal fights.”
“Yeah, that could be a problem,” Tharyn realized in frowning surprise. She had almost forgotten that plot point. Far Side of the Galaxy always packed so much into each episode.
Loroorol, Orion, and the lanky Kai Park were her lunch dates today. These three always had such positive energy, the Korvenite loved hanging around them even if not discussing their favorite space opera. She’d met these astroengineers from Hollus’s flight bays by chance a few months back after catching their conversation about an FSotG episode the night before. Since then, they’d been practically best friends. There were two others in their circle, the Galdorian Hurshui and the Xyobic Ph’r’g’k’ll.
Usually, the Korvenite would always watch FSotG with Sam, even waiting until she was off-duty. But the past few days, with Sam always gone and things being so weird, Tharydane preferred watching alone. After lunch with her astroengineer friends, Tharydane had gotten a fresh wave of glee. “Sweet Korvan, this show is the best.”
“Anyway, our lunch break is about up,” Orion announced sadly. “We’ll talk after the next episode.”
“Agreed!” Tharyn nodded happily, lazy violet curls spilling down her back. After bidding her friends farewell, she caught a separate translifter so she could return to Sam’s quarters. Staying at Lethe’s was easier, but his quarters lacked anything entertaining. Tharyn could only endure the austere Kudoban existence in doses. Best for her to take advantage of Sam’s absence.
The shame started welling up again, a physical pressure against her chest. She breathed in deep as the translifter closed and began its upward and diagonal ascent. The Korvenite enjoyed her other friends around Hollus Maddrone, but couldn’t wait until Jeremy returned.
A low whine caught her ear. She looked around, noticed the translifter doors trembling. The Korvenite reached out to touch the wall. Her fingers passed through. She yanked her hand back. When the whine and the trembling ceased, she touched the wall again. It felt hard and solid again. “What in Korvan’s name?” the Korvenite muttered in fearful fascination.
Before she could wonder further, Tharydane noticed her presence. It had been weeks since she’d done so purposely.
She furrowed her brow. “But I’m not even trying. That means—”
VVVMP. Tharydane jumped back and shrieked.
Addison Raichoudry appeared opposite her in the translifter.
Silver-buckled combat boots, denims, and scoop-necked long-sleeve tee were all black. Her raven-black hair was pulled back tight in buns positioned in upside-down triangle formation, except her blunt bangs. She leveled her aloof gaze at Tharydane, her body giving off startling hostile vibrations.
“Hello, Tharydane,” she greeted, brisk and clipped. Addison was never one for warm greetings. “I’d introduce myself, but pleasantries aren’t necessary between us. Are they?”
Those last two words made the Korvenite go cold all over. Does she know—? Tharyn opened her mouth to say something. “Uhh—”
Addison rolled her eyes in bother. “Blah Blah blah. You and I are long overdue for a talk.” Before Tharydane could protest or defend herself, Addison grabbed her shoulders.
The Korvenite heard the familiar VVMP of Addison teleporting and the inside of the translifter instantly vanished.
Chapter 23
The news didn’t surprise Tomoriq Fel. Senator Praece had always been too emotionally attached to his homeworld. Still, the v-world mogul was annoyed to see his asset departing at such a critical juncture in their plan. My plan.
Tomoriq projected his “business” avatar into the private study of the Union Senator’s space yacht.
Praece son of Proejer was dressed in another of his ridiculously expensive Pallanorian silk robes while addressing a life-sized holo of his wife, Saerece. In Fel’s opinion, the Ttaunz female was lovely: slender and golden-pelted in physique topped by her indigo hair, shorn a few inches from the scalp like most highborn females.
“Forget taking most of your wardrobe.” Praece appeared frustrated with his spouse. “We can buy new clothing after this passes.”
“You bought these dresses for me, dearest,” the Ttaunz woman explained indignantly. “What if these skyquakes and lightning storms destroy all our houses and I have nothing left? Can you imagine what other highborn would say?”
Praece was about to reply angrily until he spotted Fel’s holo over his wife’s shoulder. The Ttaunz’s eyes momentarily bulged. “Dearest, a work matter has arisen. Make sure that you, our son, and the ex vitro chamber are offworld within the orv.”
After his wife’s holo vanished, Praece addressed his benefactor with a grim look. “Fel. I was expecting this call. And that facial expression.”
“Praece,” Tomoriq addressed his pawn with courtesy cold enough to freeze lava. “Why are you leaving Terra Sollus before the no-confidence vote for Chouncilor Morje’Huijadan?”
To Fel’s irritation, Praece waved off the concern like an imagined nuisance. “Do not worry. I’ll cast my vote for that and the Faroor economic bill in absentia.”
Tomoriq’s eyes narrowed as his disapproval rose. “Why not vote in the flesh?”
Now Praece looked at him with disbelieving eyes. “Have you watched the news streams? My homeworld is in chaos. My wife, son, and unborn daughter need me.”
“I probably knew before you what was happening on Faroor,” Fel threw back stiffly. “The optics on you leaving to grab your family might yank on the heartstrings of some in the press. But the cold-hearted cynics holding power in the Union government will think twice about backing your economic bill. Your departure will read as confirmation that Faroor is in chaos.”
“Faroor is in chaos,” Praece argued. “My fellow senators from Faroor remain on Terra Sollus to help push the bill after the Chouncilor referendum vote. Senator Guilloche will back my bill. And the Chamber of Delegates version is in good hands. I am in constant touch with my Terra Sollus office. There is no cause for alarm.”
Fel grimaced, drawing in a steadying breath. He knew in his bones Thaomé would find ways to exploit the senator’s absence.
Fel had no clue exactly how she’d do it, and a man with his power hated not knowing. But after taking out Thaomé’s pawn on Faroor, Fel had been expecting vicious reprisal from that blekdritt cow. “The optics of you remaining on Terra Sollus constantly updated on Faroor’s status yet still pushing to pass the largest bill in your political career through the Bicameral would go much further.” He approached the young senator, whose confidence began wavering. Fel softened his voice appropriately. “Your current actions paint you and Faroor as an unreliable bet. Especially if your bill fails.”
That reached Praece. He stared at the ground, pondering Fel’s words.
The human smiled, pushing further. “Turn your ship around. Have your family brought to you. Focus on your political future. If you get this through and help save Faroor’s stagnant economy, your path to eventually becoming Maorridius Magnus is all but guaranteed.”
/> Praece looked up at Fel, unafraid and determined. “My family, my bloodline, needs me on Faroor. And my bill won’t fail.”
Fel ground his teeth. “Senator, I strongly advise against this.”
“Your advice is noted and respectfully ignored.” Praece turned away. “You can see yourself out.”
Shortly after, Fel stood in the starry ambience of his galaxy replica room, clenching his fists so tight his palms ached. First, Gabriel Hagan’s betrayal, choosing Thaomé over him. He’ll pay for his violation… Now, this small-minded senator jeopardized Fel’s access to Qos, which possessed temporal and spatial energies he hadn’t seen in years.
That moon’s power could further Tomoriq’s larger goals faster than predicted.
And now Praece jeopardizes that.
“Antila Grace,” he called via his internal comm systems.
The life-sized holo of a bald humanoid woman instantly appeared at Tomoriq’s side, the dark sleeveless bodysuit she donned hugging her slim frame. Beneath the simple attire, the tall humanoid was sheathed in grey metallic skin, both arms fashioned from gold segmented cybernetics.
“Tomoriq,” Antila Grace said in a feminine yet flat and mechanical cadence. “How can I be of service?”
Fel studied her, stone-faced. “I need a face-to-face message sent to Faroor.”
Antila’s left eye flashed like a jagged violet starburst. “What kind of message.”
Fel shrugged. “Depends on the results of tomorrow’s Bicameral session.”
Chapter 24
Habraum marched into the Maorridius Magnus’s throne room boiling with rage, CT-1 flanking him. The longer they wasted, the greater danger Cortes was in. To be safe, he’d told Sergeant Fiyan about this meeting and to start the search without Star Brigade.
The Magnus’s throne room was absurd, vast and adorned with lavish—or tacky in Habraum’s opinion—decorations hallmarking the history of the Ttaunz’s once great empire.
