by C. C. Ekeke
Marguliese followed suit, standing half an inch taller. “Clearly we are no longer on the Phaeton.” Her left eye blazed like a jagged azure starburst.
Khal dusted himself off and pushed his glossy waves of hair back in place. This hangar bay looked empty save some Unionjack shuttles and a few light command cruisers. “This is the Zenith Point?” Khal felt underwhelmed. “Looks more like another UComm starbase.”
Marguliese frowned. “The location does hold parallels to Hollus Maddrone.”
Khal looked again. She was right. This flight bay’s architecture reeked of Union Command: sleek and practically built while sparse in color besides the bright linings against the homochromous backgrounds. “Any sign of CT-1?”
Marguliese shook her head, long, red ponytail swaying back and forth. “I will assess our new environments while you attempt communication with our missing teammates.”
Khal brought up his wristcom. “Agreed, Maggie.”
“Marguliese,” she corrected with a glower.
Khal instinctively backpedaled. “What’s wrong? Captain Nwosu calls you Maggie.”
“Precisely,” her icy words sliced through the alarms. “You are not him.” She pivoted away to begin her search.
“Whatever.” Khal rolled his eyes, glad to be free of that laser-like glare. “Wait.” He looked over one command cruiser, Liberty-class like the Phaeton and the Ishliba. In fact, the cruiser had the Ishliba’s exact markings… “We’re in Hollus. There’s the Ishliba.”
Marguliese approached and followed his gaze. “You are correct.”
“Thank the Maker!” Khal had no clue how the Zenith Point transported them to Hollus Maddrone. But that meant they could get CT-2’s help. He tapped his wristcom. “Captain D’Urso. Please respond.”
“D’Urso here.” The human male voice with a bedroomy rasp sent a shock through Khal.
Marguliese looked up sharply.
“Who’s this?” Khal demanded, annoyed.
“Your worst nightmare unless you tell me how the fuck you accessed this channel,” this unknown man furiously replied.
Khal promptly ended the transmission. “So that wasn’t Sam. But we’re on Hollus Maddrone. Meaning…” He hesitated. His brain might break if he admitted the truth.
“We are not on our Hollus Maddrone,” Marguliese continued succinctly.
Khal covered his ears, not just to block the droning alarms. Now he couldn’t deny the truth. “God, how is this our reality?”
Before Marguliese could answer, the alarms ceased. Khal welcomed the silence, until the Cybernarr jerked him around. Her rough handling bothered Khal, until he saw the cause of her concern.
“FREEZE.” Almost twenty UComm Space Marines of several different species advanced, armored and armed to the teeth with pulse rifles trained on Khal and Marguliese. “One move and we shoot.”
Marguliese stood like a sculpted, golden statue. Her exposed silvery arm gleamed under the halolights. “Conclusively not our Hollus.”
“No tattshi.” Khal slowly raised his hands. Despite the terror filling him, the Brigadier already knew how to subdue their adversaries. “Got their guns?”
Marguliese looked as if he’d asked a fairly stupid question, aka her usual expression. “You got our opposition?”
Khal smirked at their foes, their rifles all primed to discharge. Time to distract with the charm offensive. “Sorry, folks. Really. But we really have other places to be.”
Before he finished, the marines began crying out as their pulse rifles sparked and shuddered. Some dropped their faulty armament to cradle their burned hands. Khal glanced at Marguliese’s eye glowing bright, manipulating the technology.
He sneered and raised his hands. Suddenly every space marine sailed skyward, flailing and shouting. Khal slammed them against the ceiling a couple times, violently but not fatally. To those space marines, Khal and Marguliese were intruders. They’re just doing their jobs. He floated nineteen limp bodies to the floor.
“Alright,” Khal exhaled. “Now we leave this Hollus, head to this universe’s Faroor.” He stopped, hearing the rubbish spewing from his mouth and staggered back. “What the fuck am I saying?”
“Vertex,” the Cybernarr snapped, flat and frightening. “You must maintain your composure if we—”
The Cybernarr went flying, as if struck by an invisible hovercar. Her body smacked into the Ishliba—once, twice, three times—before sagging to the floor in a motionless heap.
“Marguliese!” Khal cried. That was a telekinetic attack. He whirled around, sensing an invisible swell racing for him.
The attack nailed Khal in the chest, knocking him off his feet. With a thought he telekinetically braked his momentum, hovering in midair. Seeing their attacker, his jaw dropped.
Standing amid the fallen space marines was an earthborn woman. Both her hands—upraised in attack posture exactly how Khal’s would—churned with telekinetic power. Her complexion was caramel, glossy black hair cascading down her shoulders in long, thick curls. The standard grey and red Star Brigade lieutenant uniform she wore clung to that toned body like second skin.
And her face… Jesus, triangular-shaped and flawless like a goddess—rivaling even Marguliese’s.
Khal was stunned more by that face than her telekinetic attack. She was clearly Arabic, possibly Nahraini like himself.
Khal floated to the ground. A glance in Marguliese’s direction revealed her still motionless. I’m on my own.
This Arabic goddess pointed a warning finger at him. “Not so fast, stranger. You may’ve slipped past Hollus’s security systems, but not me,” she said, her velvety voice flavored with Nahraini accents.
Knew it. Khal had to subdue her before more backup arrived. “A fellow telekinetic.” Khal cracked his knuckles before adopting an attack pose, hands curled like claws. “This’ll be fun.”
The female Nahraini sneered. “Not for you.” She thrust her right palm out cat-quick, a telekinetic push rippling through the air.
Khal was ready, raising a solid TK wall to disperse the attack. He rapidly swept his arm back, unleashing a hail of telekinetic spikes.
The Nahraini woman crouched, arms crossed to shield herself. She swept them outward, bouncing several spikes back at Khal.
Nice! He raised an arm sheathed in TK to block, right as his rival shoved out a massive TK push to pin him against the Ishliba. Khal rolled sideways and snaked a hand out, catching her throat.
The Nahraini woman choked, lifted off the ground with dangling feet. She clawed helplessly at the invisible vise squeezing her neck.
Triumphant, Khal rose and yanked her toward him to finish the job.
Then he spotted her dark eyes twinkling. Sam had listed that as Khal’s tell whenever he played possum.
A trap, Khal realized as she pushed at his chest, just like he’d have done. Khal was forced to release her as he ducked at the last instant. Psionic energy roared overhead, knocking his wavy hair askew.
He popped up, thrusting his hands forward with titanic telekinetic force. The Nahraini woman had the same idea, unloading her own TK tidal wave.
Telekinetic blasts crashed together in midair then billowed outward with gale-like force.
Need more power. Khal drew from his well of psionic energy, hands waving slowly up and out. The telekinetic power within bubbled up until it grew too much. Then Khal let the telekinetic gush fountain from his hands, more potent and continuous.
The Nahraini woman anticipated this and did the same with a savage grin.
The TK blasts collided like a thunderclap, cancelling each other out, pushing against the other.
Khal and this Nahraini woman faced off, separated by inches, pouring everything into their respective telekinetic attacks. Khal gritted his teeth, bones vibrating under the pressure as he pushed forward and amplified his blasts. This duel made him extra thankful for Sam’s training, and her forcing him to spar regularly with Korvenite telekinetics.
The equally tensed Nah
raini woman squared her shoulders and pushed her TK harder to match Khal’s.
The flooring warped and buckled beneath them, telekinetic force crackling around their very beings. Khal didn’t care. He wanted to win. His opponent was clearly getting off on this duel. She’s not alone. Khal saw it in her eyes, dark grey and confident like his own.
“I’ll admit,” he grunted, sweat beading down his forehead, “you’re as talented as you are beautiful.”
“My thoughts exactly, handsome,” the woman confessed with a sexy smile, blowing stray curls out of her face. She frowned, as if trying to resolve something. “You look so…familiar. Have we fucked before?”
Khal chuckled, almost losing concentration. Sneaky, this one. “Oh, I’d remember you. And it would’ve been glorious. But I’m not from around here. So, no, we’re not familiars.”
The Nahraini woman shrugged. “Pity. I’ve enjoyed…this far more than…I…should.” She leaned in, pushing forward more to amplify her TK attack.
Khal matched her upsurge, every bone quivering from his fingers to his spine. He squared his hips to stop from sliding back, the air around him distorted by raw telekinesis. He felt pressure build around the collision point of their TK blasts, so much psionic power churning.
Khal refused to yield—until the swollen pressure finally erupted.
The shockwave was a hard slap to Khal’s body, throwing him back.
He came to moments later, flat on his back, and pushed himself upright. The world zigzagged, forcing Khal to a knee as the vertigo lessened. He saw the Nahraini woman on all fours shaking off the cobwebs.
Khal glanced at Marguliese. She was gone. Smiling, he turned to his opponent and stood up slowly. “I could go all night, and win. But I’m not your enemy.” Hearing a digitized noise sound behind his foe, he kept talking. “My teammate and I need to go.”
The Nahraini woman sprang upright, all business, shaking that wondrously thick head of hair. “Not going to happen, until I get answer—” A red blur rushed at her. The Nahraini turned and ate a quick roundhouse kick to the jaw. Her head snapped back before she crumpled.
Khal grinned wolfishly. “Speaking of my teammate...”
Marguliese marched past him. For an instant, her deep blue eyes had a faraway look. “We should steal the Ishliba. Given our unfamiliarity with this universe, an armed vessel with ample data is essential.”
Khal nodded in agreement. His fallen foe was still conscious, struggling to rise. Determined, powerful, and gorgeous. “Don’t worry, bahiyy. You’re just taking a brief nap.” He raised a hand, clutching her throat with telekinesis, and squeezed. “Night, night.”
“Vertex, incoming!” Marguliese called. Khal looked up as a bright shimmery glow appeared behind the woman. He leaped back as the arriving party completed their transmat.
And Khal’s brain could not accept what his eyes saw. “It’s…Star Brigade.”
Beside him, Marguliese arched an eyebrow. “Indeed.”
He counted four hostiles. Their leader stood front and center, an athletic-looking woman with a striking, strong-jawed face. She looked around six feet in height, mahogany-brown skinned and closely cropped black hair. The hazel-gold eyes ID’d her as Cercidalean. But her light white and green armor with gold shoulder pads, gauntlets, and boots resembled a slimmer version of Captain Nwosu’s. Floating above her was an earthborn man swathed in roiling orange flames. He looked tanned and trim with shaggy blond hair, dressed in a deep red bodysuit with a white stripe down the middle—like Sam’s.
At the crimsonborn’s right stood a Tanoeen, an ice sculpture with only beady eyes for facial features. That one could’ve been Tyris’s twin, save for the leaner physique.
At the crimsonborn’s left was a tawny-furred Kintarian female. Crouched and coiled to attack, she eyeballed Khal like fresh meat. “Two intruders,” the Kintarian growled, tossing a long ginger braid over her shoulder. “Small threat.”
“Save some for the rest of us, Jakadda,” the crimsonborn woman chided with a thick Cercidalean accent. Her raised fist crackled with crimson energy. “We want to know how these squits got on our starbase.”
Khal and Marguliese exchanged a puzzled look. That crimsonborn used V’Korram’s codename on this Kintarian? And her energy signature was biokinetic energy…like Captain Nwosu’s.
“You alright, lass?” the Cerc woman asked, her penetrating gaze locked onto Khal and Marguliese.
His Nahraini subordinate was upright and infuriated. “I had them.”
The pyrokinetic hovering above snorted. “Sure you did, Vertex,” he snarked, the same raspy voice from the wristcom.
Khal jerked back. “That’s my call sign…” The stunning face, the telekinesis, the ethnicity. He felt sick. “Is your last name Al Abdullah?”
The Nahraini woman’s grey eyes bulged. “How did…who are you?”
A female version of me. Khal’s brain practically melted out of his ears. “Good. God.”
Marguliese took a few steps back and clenched her cybernetic hand, an energy blade sprouting from either end of her fist. “I assume your deductions are equivalent to mine?”
“That we’re facing a gender-reversed Star Brigade?” Khal groaned. “I was attracted to myself, flirting with myself. Not that I blame me—”
“Vertex!”
“Sorry,” Khal swallowed his bewilderment. “Get us to the Ishliba.”
“I have attempted since our arrival,” Marguliese replied tersely, a frown marring her golden features. “Something obstructs me.”
“It’s simple.” The female crimsonborn pointed her glowing fist at them. “Stand down or we take you down. Your choice.” The command was flat and firm, just like Habraum Nwosu.
“Reign.” The mechanical voice came from behind Khal. He and Marguliese turned. A golden-skinned humanoid with short spiky red hair stood between them and the Ishliba. By the silvery cybernetic arm, the deep azure eyes, Khal knew what he was. “Is he—?”
“Yes,” Marguliese confirmed. Her emotionless face turned even more unyielding.
“This woman is like me,” the male Cybernarr stated, detached in tone and expression. “Cybernarr.”
That disclosure was a detonation. Marguliese stiffened, locking eyes with the other Cybernarr.
Khal’s heart skipped as he saw the alternate Brigadiers’ visceral reactions. “Not good.”
Jakadda snarled low in her throat. The female Vertex looked appalled. The male Heatstroke looked murderous.
Female Reign’s face hardened. “Take them down,” she ordered sharply.
Star Brigade charged. Jakadda launched herself at Khal, claws out and teeth bared.
The male Cybernarr dove straight for Marguliese, a double-bladed energy sword blazing green in his hands.
While Marguliese stood with energy blade raised for the collision, Khal spread his hands and encircled them both in a protective TK shield. But for how long? He felt rather winded from that telekinetic duel, while these other Brigadiers were at full strength.
Khal closed his eyes, mind racing with panic, waiting for the first attack to collide with his shields.
He kept waiting…and waiting.
“Vertex,” Marguliese’s calm, feminine tones made him dare to open his eyes. The Star Brigade CT surrounding them was frozen in place. Male Heatstroke, racing forward while unleashing jets of flame, hovered unmoving. Female Jakadda and male Cybernarr were closest, hovering statues trapped in violent postures.
Khal straightened up, confused. “The hell?”
Marguliese lowered her weapon and gave him a sidelong look. “Are you responsible?”
“I wish.” Before Khal could continue, white nothingness began washing away everything. Hollus Maddrone, the gender-reversed Star Brigade, all disappeared.
Khal dropped his telekinetic shields and stepped forward. “Now what?”
“You two were displaced,” a disembodied, otherworldly voice thundered, buckling Khal’s knees. Marguliese held her head, gritti
ng her teeth against the reverberations.
“Now you are found…and needed.”
Khal, brain nearly fried, was grateful when the voice finished. Beside him, he saw Marguliese fading away.
“No!” He reached for her, and saw his own hand fading from existence. “Where are we going…?” Soon all of Khal washed away, even his consciousness, leaving only white emptiness.
Chapter 36
“Mhir’ujiid?” Three voices spoke her name at once, accompanied by trembling all through the Farooqua’s bones. But the dark protected her from the pain and confusion. She wanted to swaddle in its embrace and never leave.
“Mhir’ujiid, it is Zojje.” The Farooqua’s eyes fluttered open and stared up into the face of a Kudoban.
“Hello, Zojje,” she replied, her voice fuzzy. That explains the tripled tenor. Mhir’ujiid felt weak as a newborn when absorbing her surroundings. Spotless metal walls, pale grey hue with an overly sterile smell.
Inside a ship, she realized unpleasantly. Mhir’ujiid had vague memories of him helping after Taorr’s brother shot her. After that, everything until now was a blank. “How did I get here?”
“Hello.” A grateful smile graced the Kudoban’s mouth as he clutched her shoulder. “You were shot. I was able to repair much of the damage. But you lost a lot of blood and there was extensive internal damage.” Another violent shudder through the ship caused Zojje to glance over his shoulder and then back at Mhir’ujiid. “We are flying you to a Medcenter on Jhoda.”
“Jhoda?” Mhir’ujiid sat bolt upright, and her stomach screamed in protest. She almost screamed herself. “As in the planet?” her mind reeled. “I am on a space shuttle??”
Zojje nodded his egg-shaped head. “Yes.”
She’d never been in outer space. The notion filled her with dread. She looked past Zojje at a viewscreen of unending darkness. Long lines of space vessels slashed across the screen, hurtling up into oblivion.
“Atma!” Mhir’ujiid squealed. “Oh my…” She thrashed in Zojje’s grip, gaping at these sterile walls detaining them. “Where is Taorr? I must see him!” Was he on this ship? Had Gaorr killed him? “Taorr!!”
