Star Brigade: Maelstrom (Star Brigade Book 2)

by C. C. Ekeke

  Hugrask threw back his beefy head and let out a mirthless laugh that echoed throughout the hostellaris. “You’re grasping at sand grains, Gijjir. You accuse my Tharydane of removing their restraining bolts, which explode if tampered with and then leading them to slaughter their owners?” Even one of Gijjir’s henchbeings snickered at this, but a glare from his boss quickly shut him up.

  “[Then bring out that Korvie and I’ll ask her myself.]” As the Maruduuk spoke, his cronies came in closer and cocked their weapons. “[I insist—for your employees’ sake.]” Gijjir’s voice took a poisoned edge as he glanced at Hugrask’s staff.

  Hugrask sounded equally venomous. “No.” He pointed a long, beefy arm at the door. “Now get out.”

  Gijjir flinched away from the refusal. “[No?]” He skittered onward, raising and clacking his claws hostilely. “[I’m giving you one chance Mulkeavian! Only because I like the liquor you serve.]”

  This time Hugrask stayed silent, reaching for something under the bar. Tharydane’s heart leaped into her throat. She sensed his grim resolve betraying what he planned to do.

  “No, Hugrask, no!” Tharydane whispered both aloud and mentally to him. Hugrask froze briefly, glancing up at the holovid camera recording all this. Sadness weighed on his crinkly face.

  Then the Mulkeavian steeled himself again, wrenched out a pulse rifle taller than him and opened fire. On instinct Gijjir reared back on his hind legs and blocked his face with his claws. His henchbeings threw themselves out of harm’s way and brought their weapons to bear. Vinda and the others, despite their fear, pulled out pulse pistols and started shooting. Before long the whole vidstation screen lit up with blistering weapon fire, making it hard for Tharydane to see anything.

  She screamed in horror and shook the vidstation with all her might, as if that would stop the firefight. The family she grew up with was dying, all because of her. “No, NO!” Tharydane said again and again. She stretched out her mind, searching for Hugrask. His steely fortitude was easy to find, along with his mounting worry for Tharydane.

  Please Hugrask. I’m not worth this. Stop this and I’ll go to him—.

  Run Tharydane, he thought back. Promise me you’ll run from this place.

  Tharydane’s eyes filled with tears again. She ran both hands through her wavy mane, feeling so helpless. Hugrask—.

  RUN! One last mournful look at the vidstation and she dashed toward the sliding door backstage. Still she kept her mind connected to Hugrask. Gunfire boomed and pounded from behind as she ran down another corridor leading to a back exit.

  Agggh! Tharydane pitched forward, a sudden white-hot pain spearing her through the gut. She tumbled against the corridor walls in agony and confusion, but saw her belly unscathed. Tharydane quickly realized it was Hugrask’s injuries she felt through their psychic link. He had taken a pulse blast to the stomach, but survived.

  Tharydane slowly pulled herself upright. But one look back down the long, poorly lit corridor flooded her with so many emotions. She couldn’t just leave Hugrask—.

  RUN THARYDANE! HE GOT PAST ME! The faint clatter of approaching footsteps down the corridor grew louder, closer. The young Korvenite spun and dashed to the exit again. Her lazy curls of violet hair trailed behind as she skidded to the door. With a profuse reluctance, Tharydane punched in the opening code. The backdoor slid open and she bolted forward.

  Noriida Major’s bright crimson pastels stabbed her eyes. Tharydane winced and shaded her eyes with a raised arm. A harsh Bimnorii sunset at its start. And what was that smell—?

  Her eyes adjusted and took in the filthy back alleyway behind the hostellaris. Crude sandy streets and cracked terracotta walls lined the area across from the hostellaris, all littered with spare hovercar parts and other random junk. A few local dissidents milled about, checking if any parts were worth pilfering.

  That odor got worse, a stomach-churning fusion of charred flesh and burning fuel. Soft winds blew the stench in dirty clouds from her left, so bad Tharydane had to plug her nose. She turned to the enclosure holding Hugrask’s aaln and prized hovervehicles…exactly where the clouds rose from.

  “Fekt,” she wrinkled up her nose and ran for the enclosure. “I’ll take the aaln.” She moved closer and the enclosure came into full view, gutting her with disbelief.

  The aaln lay sprawled and lifeless inside the enclosure. Its skull was a ruin of foamy yellow blood and bits of brain matter, clearly the target of pulse pistol fire. That explained the charred fleshy smell.

  Both hovercar and hovercycle sat where she remembered them, which was the only semblance they still bore. The vehicles had been reduced to smoldering shells of scorched metal, churning out blackened billows that plumed far up into the darkening crimson sky.

  Tharydane’s heart sank. A surge of desperation not her own shocked through the Korvenite’s system, adding to her mounting fear—.

  By the Maker child, SEVER THE DAMNABLE LINK AND GET OUTTA HERE!

  Hugrask’s thoughts again. He was alone…outnumbered…dying! Everyone else from the hostellaris had already been killed. I won’t leave you, Tharydane cried. In her anguish, the Korvenite never saw the arm snake out to haul her off the ground.

  “I have her. We’re out at the enclosure,” a male crowed in her ear. One of Gijjir’s human cronies. He hoisted Tharydane up easily with one arm, speaking into the wristcom on his other.

  “So you’re the blekdritt that freed Gijjir’s property?” His breath smelled foul. She felt his moist lips against her hair as he spoke. “Don’t look like much to me—OWWWW!!”

  Tharydane jerked her head back hard into his nose. He clutched his face in pain, releasing her. She landed and swung a viciously kick up between his legs. The human grunted, his legs folding beneath him. Tharydane whirled and tore down the alley past shocked onlookers.

  Something solid walloped her from behind, like lightning down her lower spine. Tharydane cried out and staggered sideways. Where? The human still laid near the enclosure doubled up in pain. None of the Maruduuk’s other cronies had appeared yet.

  Hugrask screamed. Another sharper pang—setting her spine ablaze. Tharydane’s legs gave out and she went down. Through her psychic link with Hugrask she felt every blow, every bit of pain as the Maruduuk’s sentients battered him.

  “N-No, Hugrask!” She spat out sand pebbles, trying to regain her footing. Without fail the Mulkeavian’s agony only grew more intense, more vivid in Tharydane’s mindscape.

  Fleeting images flashed before Tharydane’s eyes; two tall figures striking something—no, someone with the blunt ends of their rifles. Pain blurred her vision. One human raised his rifle high, drove it down brutally. Something cracked. The scene swam in and out of focus. Another invisible blow caught her in the chest. More bones shattered. Every breath Hugrask took after that was rife with pain. Likewise for Tharydane; the nitrogen she sucked in now tortured her lungs instead of replenishing them.

  One hit caught Hugrask in the mouth, making splinters of his teeth. Tharydane tasted blood, even though none spilled from her own mouth. All she could do was curl into a fetal position and shudder as blow after stinging blow rained on Hugrask’s body through their link. The pain… too much…Tharydane couldn’t even scream. An explosion of sound rang out, confusing Tharydane in her wounded state. Terracotta walls crumbling, several clattering feet on the sandy ground and a victorious Maruduuk shriek. “[Grab her Veeullu!]” Once again Tharydane was hauled up and dragged forward by a pair of strong hands, this time a beefy Tarkathian’s. She didn’t struggle, she couldn’t.

  Gijjir Nhul’s ugly puckered face appeared before her. The Maruduuk’s henchbeings closed rank around him. “[For her crimes, this butcher will know pain like never before.]”

  The cronies laughed loudly. Several beings watched from afar or from open building viewports. Their fear of Gijjir was palpable without telepathy. They would not help Tharydane. She was alone.

  The link with Hugrask seared her brain, almost unbearable in
intensity. Never had she been so intimately connected to anyone, not even in the Unilink a few days ago. His thoughts and emotions, his paternal love for Tharydane lay naked before her. But Hugrask was weak—so weak—and fading fast. Bones had been broken; countless internal injuries wracked his body. Tharydane felt all those injuries like they were her own, sharp and fresh.

  “[Bring her forward,]” the Maruduuk hissed. More sycophantic laughing from the cronies. She was dragged roughly before Gijjir. Every crinkle of his ugly, puckered face came into view. The pummeling of rifle blows on Hugrask continued.

  Hugrask, Tharydane said to him feebly. The light of Hugrask’s essence flickered and faded. Please stay. A blurry image from Hugrask’s bloodied vision swam into her own. The two humans held their rifles properly now, each aiming at his skull.

  Th-Tharydane, came the weak reply. Sadness seeped into the Mulkeavian’s ache. Without warning a blinding agony struck Tharydane twice to the head. The pain swallowed her, to the point that the Korvenite couldn’t recall her own name. Her body all but liquefied, the only thing keeping her upright was the Tarkathian holding her.

  And Hugrask’s thoughts cut off. Tharydane’s pain ceased, all of it, like someone turned off a halolight. But her mind could not, would not accept the resulting vacuum.

  “N-no,” she murmured. “No!” Tharydane squirmed with all her might. But the Tarkathian’s grip on her was ironclad. In growing terror she reached for Hugrask again—finding only emptiness.

  Hugrask was dead.

  Gijjir Nhul barked something at her. The henchbeings looked to be jeering, but Tharydane’s grief stole away any meaning to their words. A buzzing droned in her ears, like a swarm of flying insects. She sensed the massive Tarkathian holding her arms dragging her closer to death at Gijjir Nhul’s behest. He stuck his ugly puckered face right in hers. Gijjir spoke more vigorously, waving a razor-sharp claw contemptuously at Tharydane.

  The Korvenite heard nothing but the buzzing growing louder and louder. She couldn’t think, her mind numb with disbelief.

  Hugrask was dead. Those words gutted her. Tharydane tried to breathe, to speak. But when she did, a flood of blinding light crashed into the Korvenite’s mind, dragging her down into oblivion.

  Maelstrom sat cross-legged in the middle of his quarters, meditating and communing with Korvan, when he felt her—all while his flagship, the Libremancer, hurtled through the iridescent blue of hyperspace. The Korvenite’s sinewy physique, colorless in complexion like all in his species, was dripping in sweat from his latest meditation session. During these rare times of solitude, the he separated himself entirely from the telepathic Unilink connecting the Korvenites on his ship, clearing his mind to receive spiritual guidance from Korvan.

  The speech Maelstrom had delivered mere orvs ago to a stunned Galactic Union went better than expected. His advisers strongly disagreed with pirating a UComm buoy and revealing that he was still alive. Maelstrom deemed them foolish and craven like old females, unable to see the bigger picture.

  The largest trade merger in known history was in the works between the Galactic Union of Planetary Republics Union and the Kedri Imperium. A sudden return of the feared Maelstrom would catch the GUPR off guard, straining their tenuous ties with the war-like Kedri. And when the human-infested Union tried to fight back, it would be too late. Sollus would already be back in the Korvenites’ possession.

  Deep in meditation, Maelstrom brushed aside hopes, goals and ego. The introspection took him back to Bimnorii during a cool sunrise. In his mind, he flew over vast, endless sand dunes. His speed was exhilarating. The sparkling reddish-gold vista, even more so.

  Until a white-hot knife of anguish sliced into his senses.

  The agony, so raw…so potent, knocked the air out of Maelstrom. The llyriac’s eyes popped open. He gasped and rose quickly, looking around his quarters searchingly. He tasted alarm for a fleeting moment. Whatever touched his mind was definitely Korvenite. But who was that powerful?

  He quickly scanned the minds of his many followers aboard the Libremancer. No Korvenite onboard exhibited any echo of the release. It aggrieved Maelstrom to realize none onboard had that kind of potential with Korvan’s Gifts. He stretched his mind far past his ship, pressing further still…

  —swept up again in that swelling uproar of hatred…power…death. Unexpectedly overwhelmed, Maelstrom jerked back and nearly fell over. The Korvenite leader knew that presence.

  “Tharydane.” The starlight of space twinkled off his smile as he uttered the name.

  That strange Korvenite adolescent at Ymedes who had unwisely rejected Korvan’s Way. An event had caused her severe grief. Because of it, she unleashed a psionic eruption implausible for one her age. But Maelstrom and the Korvenite Independence Front were now light-years away from Bimnorii. Why had he sensed it? Could this be Korvan’s message to him? Too many questions for such an unimportant matter. Tharydane had her chance to stand with Korvan. Oh well. Shaking his head in bother, Maelstrom knelt again in his quarters’ interior, falling back into a meditative trance. The echoes of Tharydane’s outburst faded as Korvan’s sweet clarity flooded his mindscape once more.

  2.

  Within days, the entire Galactic Union knew. Maelstrom, leader of the radical Korvenite Independence Front, was not only alive, but also behind the attacks on Union memberworlds. The Korvenite had brazenly hijacked a comm buoy and shriked into the TransNet, lambasting the ‘evil’ GUPR’ with one of his infamous fiery tirades for the whole universe to see.

  The Union went into damage control, with Chouncilor Bogosian addressing the Union via the TransNet and promising that Maelstrom and his followers would be captured, dead or alive. The stalwart leader of the Galactic Union cautioned citizens not to panic—but then plugged the completion of the Union-Imperium Trade Merger in the next few weeks. Truly a class act. The speech, coupled with Maelstrom’s arrival had a sundry effect on Union citizens.

  In the heart of the Union, Terra Sollus’ planetary defenses and spacelane patrols radically increased. PLADECO and AeroFleet began patrolling trade routes, now with Monarch-Class Command Cruisers.

  Every Union Senator, Delegate and politician of above-average importance on Terra Sollus agreed to this. Honaa believed this shocking show of accord stemmed from the belief that their own lives were in danger. This did nothing to stem the terror gripping those who called the Union capital their homeworld.

  And the news streams of IPNN and GBC, aside from continually reporting on the near-completed Union battle station, gave regular updates about the escalating Korvenite situation.

  In a different political arena, to say the Kedri were furious with the Galactic Union and Chouncilor Bogosian would be the understatement of the millennium. In their minds, an insignificant race like the Korvenites shouldn’t be able to further embarrass a star-spanning hyperpower like the Galactic Union. That was the Imperium’s statement…after all the Kedri profanity was edited out. The popular rumor was that Bogosian just barely convinced the Kedri not to back out of the trade merger.

  Amid this chaos and political posturing, the KIF had seemingly vanished from Union Space, almost as if they never existed. No more raids on trade routes or internment camps.

  On Hollus Maddrone starbase, beneath the emerald clouds of Zeid, Star Brigade’s senior staff found themselves just as stymied by the Korvenites vanishing act.

  “Doesssn’t matter,” Captain Honaa Ishliba told Captain Habraum Nwosu and Commander Samantha D’Urso after Maelstrom’s speech, “The KIF’s inaction isss doing more harm than any action they could take.” Which was what Maelstrom wanted, the reptilian-like Rothorid didn’t doubt. And with Maelstrom leading them, this terrorist group just got upgraded from a substantial threat to the most wanted group in the galaxy.

  Internally, Honaa’s composure was a pretense. He had fretted all evening after that speech. How did Maelstrom sssurvive all these years? Guilt and worry shivered across his scaly maroon skin all the way to the tip of his lon
g and thick tail. I sssshould have checked for a body. No, the Rothorid realized quickly how futile self-flagellation was at this point. Aside from Habraum, Sam and himself, all other Brigadiers on their roster were barely tested rookies. They had gotten lucky against Maelstrom’s forces.

  We would not ssssurvive another encounter unless these younglingsss are battle-ready, Honaa decided. Making sure Star Brigade had the training to face and destroy this kind of threat was the only thing that mattered.

  As evident to his short and blunt speech to the hushed Star Brigadiers from the auditorium stage, Habraum clearly agreed. “A terrorist like Maelstrom shouldn’t be taken lightly,” the bald Cercidalean captain had stated. He was a towering presence onstage, especially wearing that his grey and black Union Command uniform, six-foot-five-inches of unwavering authority and solid muscle. The Rothorid sat next to Star Brigade’s small yet loyal senior staff. Sam D’Urso, unlike Habraum, wore a figure-hugging magnezipped hoodie and matching sweatpants of green kurthon velvet. Her lemony-blonde hair spilled over one shoulder, wild and disheveled as from sleep. But by how her large brown eyes raked over the crowd, sleep was the last thing on her mind. Rounding out the staff was Lethe, Hollus Maddrone’s chief administrator. The Kudoban sat in dark flowing robes with spindly fingers interlaced. His egg-shaped head bobbed slowly and patiently atop that near three-foot skinny neck. Lethe wore a rather grim expression on his innocent features. Even a pacific like him knew the danger in Maelstrom’s return. “The time for slackwit games and half-arsed performances is over.,” Habraum continued, “We get prepped for live missions the right way.” The gravity of that last sentence lingered long after the Cerc dismissed the Brigadiers from the auditorium.

  “What kind of training will we train with…I mean use?” the Voton Ensign Surje asked eagerly. The glow of his crimson skin was bright with excitement.

  “Why do we need more training?” V’Korram Prydyri-Ravlek snarled, surly as always. The tawny furred Kintarian dwarfed most of his fellow Brigadiers in size and height, including Habraum.