by C. C. Ekeke
The group walked closer, and Thal’Kag quieted. His bulbous eyes nervously darted about, as he flashed his ID badge in front of the barracks forcefield gate. Once through the gate, the barracks all still looked like boxes on the outside. The interior of each box revealed a square, colorless design with no windows. A circular comport stuck out from the ceiling, ringed around the halolight. The only furniture was one bed off in a corner and a pitiful little table resembling a child’s toy bench. What galled Habraum the most, was how he could fit two of these barracks in Jeremy’s room with space to spare! Whole families, five or more Korvenites, were crammed into these tiny boxes. Despite the overcrowding, the barracks looked startlingly clean. “Wasn’t like this before,” Sam whispered to Habraum. “The rooms used to be periodically cleaned. Periodically, as in every three to four months.”
In each barrack they visited with Korvenites not working a mining shift, all young and old shrank back in fear. When their doors opened, the outside lighting poured in and overwhelmed the room’s weak halolights. Many Korvenites cowered on their pitiful mattresses, those with progeny clung to them with such vigilance that Habraum thought they would break them in half. Liliana, taking notes with her medical scancorder, turned a shade paler each time she beheld the excess of scabs, scars and festering abrasions branding every Korvenite. Khrome looked ready to say something, but he held his tongue and stayed quiet. After twenty macroms of this, Habraum had seen enough. No one protested.
The trip back to the upper levels of Alorum’s Light was muted and grim. Everyone, save Marguliese, wore some alternate expression of anger or distaste. Khrome silently seethed, clenching and unclenching his fists noisily. Given the Thulican’s dark past, Habraum could only imagine what he was thinking.
“No wonder the Korvenites hate us.” Everyone turned. Liliana stood in the back of the translifter. Her eyes sparkled with tears.
Sam sidled next to the doctor and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Lily.”
“No, it’s not!” Cortés’s voice sounded anguished. “This is wrong!” Those words hung in the air as Liliana struggled miserably to hold back sobs.
“It will get better. I promise,” Sam lay her head on Liliana’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her. Not very professional of Sam to do. But given what they’d seen, Habraum didn’t have the heart to object. Macroms later, they emerged from the base’s translifter where they started.
Marguliese moved away from the group, running her hands across a wall in scrutinizing fashion. Unsure of what she was searching for, Habraum turned to his medic. “Cortés, go back up to the Phaeton.”
“Sir?” The young doctor straightened up and wiped away her tears. “I can handle this. It was just—.”
“No, not that,” Habraum drew closer, lowering his voice. “You did get readings off the slaves, yea?”
“Yes,” Cortés said quickly. The poor thing looked thoroughly embarrassed at her public breakdown. “Good,” Habraum afforded her a smile. “Run a detailed analysis on the Korvenites readings. We need medical proof if what we just saw is to change. The lot of us will transmat up shortly.”
Liliana nodded and followed a guard to the transmat room, looking childlike while wandering away.
Habraum turned his attention to Thal’Kag. He was a solider, which meant his duty was to fight for those who couldn’t defend themselves. “Let’s discuss the dreadful business we’ve seen here.”
12.
Stupid, stupid! Liliana raged to herself, once Phaeton’s familiar transmat room shimmered into existence. Marching so quickly off the transmat, she almost slipped, but was too mad at herself to care. Losing control like that in front of her teammates? But after what we saw… Liliana brushed away any clinging tears and walked briskly to the bridge. The bridge entrance slid away before her.
Spread out on the helm viewscreen like a museum holoprint was a panorama of Alorum and its glittery rings. Just beyond that was the partly shrouded Draconis, a vigilant sentinel in the black of space. The view momentarily took Liliana’s mind off the atrocities she’d witnessed on Alorum’s surface.
“You.” And V’Korram Prydyri-Ravlek completely ruined it.
Liliana scowled at the sight of the Kintarian sitting at Sam’s comm station hunched and brooding.
“Lieutenant,” she said stiffly, not affording him another glance as she entered the room fully. Still, the doctor felt V’Korram’s eyes raking over her with his usual contempt, scrutinizing every movement…every flaw.
“Wasn’t surprised it was you who transmatted up first,” he grumbled aloud. Liliana’s cheeks warmed. But she said nothing as she stepped down the bridge’s mini-staircase. “A doctor who can’t even stomach seeing mistreated slaves,” he huffed, a brusque critique.
And Liliana had reached her limit. “I’m up here on Captain Nwosu’s orders. So unless you have something worthwhile to say, mind your own damn business…sir.”
V’Korram stayed silent and returned to whatever he was fiddling with. Liliana sighed and looked for the nearest console with a scancorder port, thankful to find it far from V’Korram, behind the bridge table. She moved to plug in her scancorder and in her anger jammed it forward so hard she missed the port entirely. Imagining V’Korram’s face as the port didn’t help.
Liliana leaned back in her chair, trying to relax and clear her head. As she did, the doctor glanced at the console viewscreen nearest to her. Earlier on, Khrome and Tyris had been watching Alorum’s surface on this viewscreen. An odd rock formation that wasn’t there moments ago had appeared, partly submerged in Alorum’s rings. Liliana absently put her scancorder aside and ran a quick map scan. In nanoclics, the scan detailed several thousand pentametrids between the moon from the Phaeton.
Their paths were on a slow, but inevitable collision. Startled, Liliana turned to the main viewscreen. There was the undersized moon in Alorum’s rings as well. Rhyne’s far-off light illuminated the bluish surface, oddly smooth for a moon. The Draconis was closer, but farther to the left from Alorum and its rings. And V’Korram, fiddling with the comm system, seemed oblivious.
“You should change our course before we hit that moon,” she told him.
V’Korram didn’t bothering to look up. “Alorum’s two moons aren’t near its rings.”
Liliana simply pointed at the viewscreen instead of getting annoyed. “Then what’s that in our path?”
The Kintarian growled low in his throat and glared at the viewscreen. The moon seemed closer now, and the Draconis lumbered forth to intercept. V’Korram was looking surly again. “How did I miss it?”
“Not sure.” Liliana tried not to look too pleased with herself. “Could be just flotsam that floated in.”
“Altering course,” V’Korram growled, as if Liliana had not even spoken. “Find out exactly what that piece of flotsam is.” The Kintarian’s fingers worked the auxiliary ship controls from Sam’s comm station, as well as the commport, with expert speed and grace. “Phaeton to Draconis.”
The commports crackled in a spew of static upon the immediate response. “Go ahead Phaeton.”
“Did you detect that moon-like formation in Alorum’s rings?” V’Korram asked, frowning.
“We were about to ask you the same thing. Our—BZZZZT—Try—CRAKZZZZZZTTZZZZT.”
“Draconis, I’m losing you.” V’Korram tried a few frequencies, getting only static still. “Draconis?”
Liliana went to her console and ran a detailed analysis of the moon. A TriTran holo of the moon popped up just above the bridge table. She saw nothing abnormal, other than its lack of craters and crags. She glanced then at the TriTran console’s flashing readings. “That’s odd,” Liliana frowned more to herself.
“What, Ensign?” V’Korram asked sharply, finally giving up with the comm systems.
“I’m reading energy discharges and a rhythmic pulse rate. Chronic contractions and expansions. Like heartbeats.” Liliana scratched her spiky hair in bother. Where had she seen this before?
V’Korram reached the table in three strides and studied the moon’s diagram. “It’s changed course, moving against Alorum’s orbit.” His face darkened in dawning alarm. “That’s no moon. It’s a—.”
“—betelydra!” Liliana blurted out, finally remembering. Both Brigadiers looked to the helm viewscreen right as the ‘moon’ unfurled into an enormous, bluish-purple gastropod creature. The being burst from the surface of Alorum’s rings in a mute eruption of space hoarfrost and rock fragments. Liliana was in awe, poring over the three segments of the betelydra’s body; the small ovular head housing two bulging eyes, the wide fleshy midsection, and then the muscular foot propelling it through space.
The betelydra, easily the largest Liliana had ever seen, frantically rolled and twisted its plump body as millions of space dust rivulets came spilling off. The doctor gazed with childlike wonder.
V’Korram wasn’t at all entranced. “How did it get so far away from Merrivel Nebula.” The betelydra sped upward into open space, a majestic sight not just for Liliana, but any xenobiologist…
…until the creature tucked its head and barreled for the Draconis, colliding into the warship’s underside like a battering ram. Liliana watched in horror, as the impact knocked the Century-Class ship’s rear straight upward. The betelydra’s thick foot whipped up at the Draconis’ rear, whacking the engines.
V’Korram hissed and began powering up the stellar drive engines. “The Draconis raised its shields just in time. Why are Alorum’s planetary defenses doing nothing?”
Though the Draconis was built for speed and combat, it couldn’t match the agile loops and reach of the betelydra. Just as the Draconis attempted to maneuver away again, the betelydra violently swatted the rear again with its foot. Shielding around the ship’s engines lit up, blow after explosive blow raining down.
Liliana sat in sheer astonishment. “This is impossible.”
“How, Cortés?” V’Korram growled, while working the helm. “Its in front of you!”
“No, I mean this behavior is impossible!” Liliana shot back. “Betelydra are peaceful creatures by nature. They never attack unless they’re defending themselves or their litter.”
V’Korram regarded her briefly, and then turned to the helm. “Raising shields. Get weapons online.”
Liliana did as ordered. “Plasma bursts and quantum missiles armed.” Despite the betelydra’s lunacy, the xenobiologist in her didn’t want it dead. V’Korram tried the comms again, and only got static.
“Can’t even reach Alorum’s Light. By the Maker, this was supposed to be one of the most secure bases in the sector.” Within nanoclics the battle drew nearer on the viewscreen. The Draconis finally gained some distance, swinging around to port and made full use of it. Bright crimson flashes lit up Alorum’s inky aerospace as the Draconis fired off multiple volleys of plasma bursts at the betelydra. On instinct, the creature twisted its body through space to evade the onslaught, but several shots still struck home. Vital liquids spurted into space from wounds opened up on the betelydra’s plump form.
Finally the creature dove back into Alorum’s rings. Icy sprays of flotsam splashed high up in its wake, the wriggling foot vanishing beneath the rings. The Draconis swept in closer and began to scan the area. “Looks like they don’t need us,” Liliana began.
And then the proximity alarms blared. “What now?” V’Korram growled. The reply came in the form of too many Z-bombs to count appearing out of nowhere, all speeding at the Draconis with hostile intent.
“Where did those…?” Liliana began asking, but stopped. She already knew the answer.
A shrouded Korvenite ship had to be somewhere at Alorum’s Light, jamming all nearby communications, like at VanoTech Mines. And that poor betelydra is the KIF’s pawn. The epiphany shocked Liliana numb. Her eyes met V’Korram’s, who’d clearly reached the same clarity.
Multiple ripples of z-bomb detonations swelled all around the Draconis’ backside. In moments, the shockwaves mushroomed out. Liliana clung to her seat for dear life. V’Korram worked furiously at the helm, snap rolling from starboard to port, juking and diving to avoid the z-bombs, barely evading the fallout with nearly no drop in Phaeton’s shields. And now they had some distance from Alorum.
Draconis wasn’t so lucky, its shields drained by nonstop z-bombs’ blasts and more detonating.
In no time, the engines’ shielding, already weakened by the betelydra attacks, sustained one hit too many. The strong-alloyed hull, equipped to withstand the rigors of space travel, warped and crumpled like cheap paper under the seismic assaults. Orange plumes swelling from the Draconis’ engines filled up the viewscreen, with both Liliana and V’Korram looking on helplessly. Two more z-bombs discharged, and the entire rear of the warship blew apart, belching fire and ship fragments out into space. One more hit right under the nose, and the spherical head visibly contorted. Right on cue, the injured betelydra rocketed out of its hiding place in Alorum’s rings to deliver the deathblow, whipping its foot across the Draconis’ head with such force the crippled vessel went spinning away into space. Growing fissures led to bright flare-ups erupting and winking out across the hull. One more explosion ripped the spherical head apart.
With that obstacle destroyed, the gigantic gastropod veered around. Its bulging, ebony eyes zeroed in on the Phaeton. V’Korram straightened up in his seat. “I think we’re in trouble.”
13.
To Habraum, the flickering of the halolights came at the right time as things were starting to get bizarre. Moments ago Honaa had hissed. “Maybe they’re better off here.”
Habraum winced. As expected, Sam wheeled on the Rothorid. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Honaa eyed her through narrowed slits. “What I sssaid isss they might be better off here. Obviousssly, not in diminutive boxesss. No need to get riled up, Commander.”
Habraum felt a cold metal hand on his shoulder when he moved to stop their bickering. “All outbound communications to and from Alorum’s Light are blocked,” said Marguliese as he turned to her.
“A malfunction?” The Cerc frowned. Honaa and Sam’s throwdown became background noise.
“According to the Protectorate’s mainframe, no. But twenty-five macroms, eighteen nanoclics ago, an external source accessed the Protectorate’s systems. I cannot trace its exact location. Alorum’s Light’s security systems should have informed the Protectorate operators, but are apparently incapable.”
That was when the halolights began flickering. Visibility in the room winked on and off, making everyone’s reactions look as if they were on a reel of choppy video frames.
Sam and Honaa stopped arguing, both alarmed. “What—?” Khrome spun about in confusion.
“Control, report,” Thal’Kag spoke to the Alorum’s Light comms. Nothing but static. “Control?”
“I advise that we leave these premises. Now,” Marguliese told Habraum and the other Brigadiers.
“About time,” Honaa rasped. Habraum held up a silencing hand and looked around. Something was in the air—he could almost taste it. A prickle of rising energy that was unnoticeable a few nanoclics ago.
“Now what?” Sam asked and walked closer. Thal’Kag also looked on with concern.
Wave upon wave of energy rattled the room, pulsating and increasing, soaking the pristine white metal walls before Habraum in yellow. Psionic energy? No one else saw it except Habraum. But Khrome caught on, as did Marguliese. Without a second thought, Habraum yelled, “Get down!” He and Marguliese dove for cover. As did the other Brigadiers—just in time.
Pulsing veins of psionic lightning fissured all around the room, off walls, through the corridor and disrupted the surrounding technology. An unnatural gust howled through the spacious corridor, causing goosebumps to rise all over Habraum’s skin. He shielded his eyes from the blinding amount of energy shooting around. Marguliese grabbed him by the waist and yanked him back as a blinding upsurge burst up from the flooring where he stood.
The Br
igadiers remained untouched. Thal’Kag and his security, organic and mech, weren’t so lucky.
Each one lit up like mid-day suns, as psionic lightning forked through them, lifting and shaking them like rag dolls. Their death cries echoed long after they crumpled under the psychic torrent.
Khrome covered his ears. Across the way, Honaa looked at the Cerc, then Marguliese, and opened his thin-lipped muzzle wide to rasp out, “Look out!” Too late.
No less than five psionic bolts stabbed into Marguliese. For a moment she shimmered, an unnatural golden glow just before she was knocked off her feet.
Habraum heard himself yell, “Marguliese!” He moved to stop the assault, but ran right into an invisible wall that swatted him back hard. The same thing happened to the other Star Brigadiers, who all struggled to push past the hidden barrier.
The Cybernarr didn’t scream, but as the psionic lightning bent her frame into unnatural attitudes, the tortured look on her face spoke volumes. The scene stretched out seemingly forever, an agony for Habraum to watch. When the psionic lightning finally ceased, she dropped to the ground in a dead heap like a puppet cut from its strings.
At once the shield containing the Brigadiers faded. Habraum ignored the ruined bodies of Thal’Kag and his security, dashing to Marguliese’s side to gather her up in his arms. “Maggie? Say something.” The Cybernarr’s head lolled back as he held her. She felt limp, her burnt crimson tresses pooled on the ground. Her cerulean eyes were dead, staring at nothing. Many blisters pocked her once-faultless golden skin and face. A few cracks had marred her cybernetic arm, spewing watery yellowish fluids and revealing cyberorganics underneath. Habraum shook Marguliese desperately to rouse her.
It was Beridaas all over again, fears of losing another subordinate ripping through the Cerc.
“What the ever-loving fuck just happened?” Sam fumed. She floated a few feet in the air, her whole body now engulfed in a smoldering aura. Honaa and Tyris wore expressions of escalating panic, scouring around the room for the source of the attack.
