by C. C. Ekeke
Uh-oh. Habraum brightened. The thrill of space combat was a drug he’d never surmount.
The Cerc plunged through Qos’s jagged energy streams, the torpedoes hot on his trail. He jerked hard left then right, snaking around jagged belches of energy from the Zenith Point. The other Habraum clung to his seat in terror. “Are you skittery?? Why would you—” He then saw why. “Oh.”
One jet burst upward, destroying the closest torpedo. Another jet sliced two more apart.
Habraum barrel-rolled up with another torpedo on his tail. At home in the pilot’s seat, he never worried. Knowing these smart trackers would never strike their own ship, the Cerc had another gambit in mind.
“Maggie, let loose on my mark.” He climbed to meet his two foes, the torpedo tailing him closing in fast.
Habraum banked hard left and out of the way. Another snaking energy beam twisted upward, destroying the tracker torpedo. One dagger ship jerked aside while the beam speared through its counterpart. The ruined vessel exploded into flaming fragments that swiftly went cold.
The distraction allowed Habraum to rise from the bottom.
“Fire!” The Phaeton pummeled the enemy’s underside, full batteries ablaze. Before long, the ship’s shields and engines went dead.
Habraum whooped loudly, exhilarated from the fight.
“Cut it close there, lad,” the other Habraum chided.
“Could’ve cut closer,” Habraum threw back roguishly.
“He’s the best,” Solrao stated without resentment.
On the mainscreen, their destination lay ahead—a churning breach in the expanse of radiance.
Habraum quickly checked on the battle between the UComm Hammerjacks and the larger unknown cruisers. All seven UComm vessels were in one piece. The unknown vessels were either floating dead in space or in shattered and sparking ruins.
“We’re heading to the coordinates,” he announced on the comms. “Michelman and Lua. Follow us when you’re done with cleanup.” Habraum turned and nosedived into a spiraling hole of blazing radiance, violent tongues of energy lashing upward to shudder Phaeton’s occupants through the shields.
“Readings are going crazy.” Khrome looked at his field commander, round eyes bulging. “Shields are practically drained, sir.”
“Hold on!” Habraum zigzagged the Phaeton around roiling flare-ups threatening to impale his ship, always dodging just in time. Where this rabbit hole led, the Cerc didn’t know. The mystery actually excited him. “The landing is probably going to be bump—”
Waves of fulsome energy from Qos flooded Phaeton’s viewscreen, washing over him, Solrao, Marguliese, Khrome, Khal, and the other Habraum.
Habraum Nwosu opened his mouth to give an order. Until his voice, his CT, his existence were devoured by white-hot oblivion.
Chapter 31
“Thank you for taking my call, Senator Hedoshe,” Maekoll daughter of Haesheus said, melodically pleasing.
“Please, Maekoll,” the Rhomeran replied, his tenor sounding like he constantly gurgled water. He was clearly happy to make time for her.
Exactly what I counted on. From a far corner in the common room, Thaomé watched Maekoll speak to a live-sized hologram of Union Senator Gnu Hedoshe.
Maekoll, one of many Ttaunz residing on Terra Sollus, was also one of the wealthiest and most connected. She possessed the usual Ttaunz attributes: flawless humanoid aesthetics and bone structure, golden locks shorn almost to the scalp, figure-hugging obsidian Pallanorian silk gown with strategically sensual cutouts revealing her silvery pelt. And of course Maekoll wore the perpetually self-important look that all highborn Ttaunz seemed to have.
What Maekoll currently lacked was willpower, which Thaomé had married to her own. The Ttaunz, unbeknownst to her senator friend, was reduced to a telepathic mirror of whatever the Korvenite did or said ever since this competition with Tomoriq Fel started. Thaomé’s commands were Maekoll’s actions. Thaomé’s thoughts were the Ttaunz’s words. Those words were now being employed to sway her friend Senator Hedoshe, lieutenant to the influential Senator Mre Guilloche.
The Korvenite remained out of Senator Hedoshe’s view as she mouthed her next words for the Ttaunz to speak. “I know you’re in the middle of a key Bicameral session, but this couldn’t wait. It’s about the Faroor Economic Expansion Bill, and the planetary republic which you are supporting if you back it.”
Gnu looked uncomfortable, fleshy waddles on his pale cream face vibrating. “There are concerns over Faroor’s current state of affairs,” he gurgled darkly. “But Guilloche still supports Praece’s EE Bill, meaning all three Rhomeran senators will. The Rhomeran Union Delegates have voted for it already.”
Guilloche’s good little soldiers. Thaomé gagged, but kept that to herself.
Hedoshe continued. “Why would you speak against a bill working for the interest of your homeworld, Maekoll?”
“Because,” Thaomé mouthed, provoking her Ttaunz puppet to speak. “I cannot live with the corruption that has overtaken my species.” The Korvenite did some handwringing for dramatics, which Maekoll aped flawlessly. “Did you know the Ttaunz Defense Force has staged brutal attacks on Farooqua villages, killing thousands? Would have been tens of thousands if not for UComm’s intervention. Reminiscent of the Korvenite raids of 2377.”
Those words shuddered through Hedoshe. “There have been rumors,” he admitted, “but TDF was flushing out any leftovers of the Ghebrekh extremists.”
Thaomé shook her head, and her Ttaunz puppet mimicked. “The Ttaunz want to wipe the Farooqua off the face of Faroor.” The Korvenite sighed heavily. Maekoll mirrored the sigh. “What if I also told you the Faroor Viceroy hadn’t been seen publically for two years because his own Defense Minister poisoned him? This same minister colluded to usurp the Magnus with not the legal heir but his younger brother.”
Senator Hedoshe jolted, his fleshy waddles wagging. “Tell me you jest!” he gurgled in horror.
Thaomé shook her head, as did Maekoll. “Unfortunately not. Once Minister Haemekk was discovered, the Defense Minister was executed without trial. Tossed out of a shuttle at high altitude.”
Senator Hedoshe looked enraged. Thaomé knew why. Rhomeran society prided itself on its top-tier espionage. All of Maekoll’s news was a surprise. “Where is your proof? I cannot go on hearsay.”
Thaomé knew he’d ask. With the data payload she had compiled, Senator Praece’s bill would be dead in the water. She hid a victorious smile behind a distressed look, mirrored by Maekoll. “I’ve already sent visual and audio proof your way, including footage of former Minister Haemekk’s torture and execution,” the Ttaunz puppet said. “The same footage which will appear on IPNN in half an orv.”
Senator Hedoshe’s black, oily eyes bulged.
Thaomé spoke again through Maekoll. “I hope you make the right decision.” After they exchanged farewells, Gnu’s holo vanished.
The Korvenite walked up to her Ttaunz puppet, grinning. She traced the length of Maekoll’s jaw with two fingers. “You did well, my pet.” Her white irises vanished in the pitch-black of her sclera as her telepathic abilities poured false memories into Maekoll’s psyche. “You spoke to your old friend Gnu to voice your concerns over the Ttaunz government. Then you took a nap until the next morning.”
Maekoll’s eyes turned jet-black like Thaomé’s before returning to their normal coloring. She blinked and walked to her bedroom with glazed-over eyes.
Thaomé watched her until she left the room. Then the Korvenite spoke a command to open another transmission to Faroor. While waiting for the transmission to be accepted, she recalled finding out the fate of the ships she had commissioned to siphon exotic energy stores from Qos. Only one vessel had escaped intact, no thanks to Star Brigade.
“This Star Brigade has become more vexing than Tomoriq Fel,” she complained. First, they indirectly got Haemekk executed. Now, they interfered with her obtaining samples of these exotic energies.
Before Thaomé could pond
er further, the life-sized holo of her handsome contact appeared.
“Uaros,” she greeted her longtime client with genuine warmth.
“Thaomé,” the strapping, older Ttaunz replied with a bow that oozed of affluence. “Was your call successful?”
The Korvenite nodded. “Very. I do believe news of the Viceroy and his sons’ dealings will do serious damage to their family’s standing.”
“The Maorridius Magnus and his family humiliated my daughter, cast her aside for some Farooqua savage. There must be a reckoning.” Hatred rippled across his handsome features. “Couple that with Haemekk’s corruption and execution without trial, I have just cause to gather the council of highborn families and consider disciplinary actions against Maorridius Magnus.”
“Fascinating,” Thaomé said with a pokerfaced mask. “Your daughter attained this information?”
The topic of his daughter returned Uaros to his previous good humor. “Maorridius Magnus’s second son Gaorr told Uarya everything about his plot to overthrow his own father. Bragged about it.”
Thaomé’s mouth fell open. The child of a Viceroy cooked his own family for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “How could Gaorr be so stupid?”
Uaros snorted, folding his arms in distaste. “That boy is not renowned for his intelligence. And my daughter Uarya’s persuasive talents are unparalleled.”
The pride in his daughter’s promiscuity turned Thaomé’s stomach. But she maintained her beaming façade. “A pleasure doing business with you, Uaros. Stay safe over on Faroor.”
The Ttaunz looked appreciative of the gesture. “We already are, Thaomé. Thank you for your concern.”
After the transmission ended, Thaomé wondered what Uaros would do if he knew what she was. A Korvenite in a position of power? She waved off the concern. Not like he ever would discover her true species. There were more important matters. While Thaomé enjoyed calculated approaches and the long game, she also thrived in chaos. Blowing up whole hierarchies and exploiting the survivors had made her very wealthy. That is the plan with Faroor.
Turning on the massive holoview, she alternated between the Chouncilor Referendum Vote happening on Terra Sollus and the lightning storms ravaging Faroor. The albino Korvenite flopped down on a lounge chair and stretched her arms catlike. “Now we watch and wait,” Thaomé purred with a ravenous grin.
Chapter 32
The Children of Earth starbase was a thick indigo cylinder slowly rotating round and round, surrounded by Zeid’s roiling emerald clouds.
“Right under our nose.” Sam shook her head in disgust.
The light command cruiser Ishliba hovered in cloaked mode some distance away from the gloomy base.
Zeid’s billows cast a ghostly jade pall over the Ishliba’s bridge. The mood was tense. CT-2’s operatives were on edge and in field uniform, awaiting Sam’s go-ahead.
The field commander watched Stronghold pace about his workstation, fidgeting with the gauntlets of his war armor. The Ubruqite didn’t need facial expressions on his masked helmet to reveal his nerves.
Bevrolor lounged nonchalantly at the weapons array control, Zeid’s emerald radiance matching her fluffy green curls. The Nubrideen’s hefty six-foot-three frame took up lots of space while she adjusted the settings of her equally massive repeater rifle. CT-2’s second-in-command looked relaxed yet fierce, made for combat. Sam smiled seeing that.
Jan’Hax crouched on his haunches near Sam, the mainscreen consuming all his attention. He appeared abnormally subdued. Understandable, Sam knew, given this op’s importance.
Addison sat at her workstation with seven holoscreens open, shifting, typing on, and manipulating every screen effortlessly. Sam was relieved to count her as a teammate, mutual dislike notwithstanding.
Surje kept his head down, focusing on his workstation console. The Voton was also thankful for Addison’s innocence. “I’m sorry. For wasting your time,” he had apologized after Sam explained what had occurred. Her gaze lingered on Surje. She’d made many questionable choices when mentoring Khal. At a time when Star Brigade’s fate seemed uncertain, Sam could rationalize each one away. But with the Brigade on steadier ground, that approach wouldn’t work on Surje. He was a good officer with strong morals, but needed more guidance to reach his true potential.
I’ll groom him the right way, Sam promised.
Their pilot, Herrycon, sat at the helm, violet eyes glued to the main viewscreen.
GiGi Gonzales toiled beside Surge at his workstation. The plump and pink-skinned intelligence specialist from Pogoll would assist with communications once CT-2 took to the field. Her dark eyes locked onto Sam, who winked. That won a smile from the stormborn human. GiGi had worked a few smaller Brigade missions and some covert side ops for Sam. This was her biggest mission, naturally bringing out some nerves.
Can’t blame her. Sam was feeling the pressure as well. Especially with Admiral Hollienurax’s life-sized holo standing beside her. As Star Brigade’s supervisor and part of UComm’s Joint Special Operations Group, the Galdorian officer usually interfaced with Habraum. But in the Cerc’s absence and radio silence, Sam was liaising directly with Hollienurax.
The Galdorian had given his go-ahead for today’s operation. Now CT-2 had to deliver.
That was, once there was verified movement from the starbase.
Sam folded her arms and waited, her blank expression revealing nothing. Inside, a hive of angry bees was buzzing around her stomach. The drama with Tharyn and Habraum and everything else became background noise. This mission was her sole focus.
“I’m getting activity at the flight bays,” Surje finally called from his workstation. The Voton’s red skin flickered excitedly.
Sam’s heart leaped. She and Hollienurax exchanged a look. “Good luck, Captain D’Urso,” the Galdorian croaked. “I’ll observe with an Omega Group standing by.”
Sam nodded and smiled. “Let’s hope you don’t have to, Admiral.” She cleared her throat to grab CT-2’s attention. “You know the plan, kiddies. This isn’t a brute-force op like before. We go in surgically, cut out the virus, and disable this station’s operations. The rest is up to UniPol once they show up.”
“What if UniPol doesn’t show up?” Stronghold asked.
Good question, Sam considered. She had given late notice to M’Kuvuh’s boss so the occupants of the base couldn’t get a heads up. “Then JSOG upper crust will send an Omega Group strike team. But to be honest, we’ll be on our own.”
Silence reigned on the Ishliba’s bridge, with the members of CT-2 evoking uncertainty.
Sam sighed and tried a different avenue. “This mission will be our most important. All I ask is that you trust in the objective, in each other, and in me.” Those words improved the mood considerably.
Surje glanced at his workstation holoscreen. “Four ships are exiting. The same ones we saw entering a few orvs ago.” On the mainscreen, four slim ships were shown departing the CoE cylinder base.
Showtime. Sam loved the start of a mission. The excitement, the uncertainty, all those chaotic emotions churning in her gut. She fed off that shit. “Alright. Let’s do it. Freerunner, shut down all ship functions except rudimentary life support.” Sam was tempted to deny these xenophobic cretins even that.
At her workstation, Addison’s fingers flew up and down across her holoscreens.
“Done,” she announced shortly after, the overeager student who finished before the rest of the class.
“Of course.” Sam nodded in satisfaction and turned to her Ciphereen recon. “Incognito, find any Korvenites onboard?”
“Yes.” Jan’Hax stood with Surje at his console, shifting through data on a holoscreen. “Three each ship.”
Sam swallowed her shock. And that was probably just the start of the CoE plan to undermine the Korvenites. Jesus. “Lock onto their signatures and bring them onboard. As soon as they appear, make sure they are unconscious and behind a forcefield strong enough to contain their psionics and the air they breat
he. Who knows if they’re already infected and how this disease is transmitted.”
A few macroms later, Jan’Hax straightened to his full lanky height and looked back at Sam. A smile pulled at his duck-billed mouth. “Transmatted to our holding area.”
Sam was feeling better by the instant. But the mission was just starting.
“Got a line on the base’s comm chatter,” GiGi Gonzales piped in. She ran a hand through her bowl-shaped white hair with jet-black roots. “Lots of confusion and chaos.”
“Exactly what we want.” Sam nodded. “Freerunner. Disable shields, sensory cloaking, and flight bays from launching more ships. And shut down their external communications.”
“On it,” Addison replied briskly, her fingers inputting at expert speeds.
“Herrycon,” Sam addressed the Ishliba’s pilot. “Once we board the station, you know what to do.”
The Cerc pilot smiled and nodded. His growing confidence over the last several months showed in recent performances. “Yes, Captain.”
“Done,” Addison called out again.
Sam beckoned CT-2 to her. Once all six members were clustered around each other, the field commander looked again at Herrycon. “Transmat to the set coordinates.”
One moment, the Ishliba’s steel blue bridge shimmered from sight. The next thing Sam knew, an unfamiliar dark metallic room surrounded CT-2. A ship cleaning supply closet, the last place CoE would look for intruders. Add to the fact that their sensor arrays were scrambled and no ships could launch, the CoE had bigger concerns.
“Okay.” Sam looked up at Bevrolor as alarms blared in the background. “Hightower. Raze every spaceship in that hangar bay. Should be to your right when you leave here. Take Courier with you.” The Nubrideen headed out the closet door with Surje.
“Incognito,” Sam turned to tall and lanky Jan’Hax, carrying a belt full of explosive charges strapped to his uniform. “Start planting bombs in the vulnerable spots we discussed. We want this base disabled, not destroyed. Be quick and safe.”
