Star Brigade: Maelstrom (Star Brigade Book 2)

by C. C. Ekeke

  “Is she…?” The question snapped Habraum from his anguish. He turned to see Khrome’s stocky form standing over him. To his surprise, the Thulican’s face held no pleasure in Marguliese’s state.

  Not yet, but soon, a familiar voice spoke in his head. “Who said that?” both Habraum and Khrome said at the same time. The others clearly heard it by their reactions. Once again Habraum felt a tingling in the back of his neck. His eyes stung as he protectively hugged Marguliese’s body closer to his own.

  “Reign,” Tyris said. The fear in his high, cold voice was alarming. Honaa, Sam and Khrome also looked upward, spellbound by something up there. Habraum followed their gazes up to the ceiling, and felt his insides freeze.

  Something…someone familiar descended from the murky ceilings of Alorum’s Light. A single humanoid, the sable cape he wore billowed from behind. Still shrouded by the dark, the being looked tall, its face hidden by a cowl. But something about this creature radiated a tangible, undeniable power that every Brigadier in the room felt.

  More of this being came into view, as he continued to descend in his azure body armor. Finally, he landed without a sound, still in the shadows, a few metrids in front of Star Brigade. Honaa jumped back and hissed, his needle-like teeth coming into view. Sam stood resolute. Khrome stood his ground, but in awe. Tyris’ facial expression was once again unreadable, but his actions were more eloquent as he extended his quarterstaff.

  The Korvenite, Maelstrom, stepped into the light. He tossed back his cowl to reveal gaunt and chalk-white features, his long violet mane tied in a half-knot. Arms folded over his chest, he purposely stepped on the charred remains of Thal’Kag and his security.

  “What have we here?” The Korvenite addressed CT-1 with glittering eyes.

  Save the fizzing of charred remains strewn over the floor, the shocked silence was tomblike. Habraum gently laid Marguliese down and stood up alongside his equally astonished team, trying to wrap his jumbled thoughts around what he was seeing. Maelstrom, the most wanted terrorist in the Galactic Union, stood before them in a Korvenite internment camp.

  “The ‘Strategic Assault and Reconnaissance Brigade,’” Maelstrom rolled the name off his tongue, sparing no amount of ridicule. “Star Brigade. How the Union Command loves its ‘clever’ acronyms. Forgive me if I’m somewhat…underwhelmed.”

  Habraum exchanged a look of speechless disbelief with Sam and Honaa, then turned back to Maelstrom. How he breached Alorum’s Light could be answered later. First and foremost, the Cerc had to regain control over the situation. “Maelstrom, by order of the Galactic Union of Planetary Republics, you’re under arrest. Come quietly, and don’t make this difficult.”

  The rest of CT-1 moved in, clearly afraid, but battle-ready. Habraum raised his right arm, fist glowing bright crimson with biokinetic energy.

  Seeing this, Maelstrom smiled. The malice in that simple gesture was frightening. “Difficult for who? And where did all your compassion for my race go? Is seeing one Korvenite free and potent that unmanning?”

  All of a sudden Habraum felt something faint brush at his mind. Unseen psychic tendrils snaked out from Maelstrom as he probed at the fringes of Habraum and the other Brigadiers’ thoughts. None of them wore the psychic dampers Khrome had created. But thanks to mental discipline and instruction from Lethe, Habraum calmly armored his mind and shoved the Korvenite out.

  “Not much of anything from the humans,” Maelstrom shot Habraum and Sam venomous looks. “But such hatred from you, Honaa. Does this bring back memories?” he taunted, soft and menacing in tone.

  “You sssssick—.” Unable to govern himself, Honaa charged. Sam quickly blocked him and dragged the Rothorid back. Habraum kept his fist aimed at the Korvenite. “Final warning.”

  Any lingering mirth on Maelstrom’s face vanished. “You will not stop me from completing Korvan’s decree to restore my brethren, human,” he spat the last word like an expletive.

  That was all Habraum needed to hear. “Your choice, your funeral. Take him!” Habraum fired off a thick biokinetic burst, Sam raised both hands and unleashed a roiling pyroplasmic plume, and from Tyris’s hands a furious hailstorm of icy daggers sliced the air—all directed at the Korvenite.

  Cascades of red, orange and glacier-blue engulfed Maelstrom completely. So radiant was Star Brigade’s assault that the terrorist became little more than a silhouette. Khrome stood in the back, kneeling protectively over Marguliese’s body. Honaa also crouched but on all fours, tail whipping side to side in battle-ready fashion, prepared to attack once Maelstrom fell.

  “Careful, Reign,” the Rothorid warned. “Maelstrom isss a formidable telekinetic. Mossst likely hisss TK shield blocked a large part of your attack.”

  “Reign?” Sam questioned, gritting her teeth. She continued pour out a brilliant jet of orange-gold flames, the air around her sizzling, but with growing concern on her face. Habraum looked over his own near-blinding attack and immediately saw what had her attention. Their attacks were hitting some type of wall, only to then fizzle out entirely.

  “Break off.” Habraum ended his attack and pulled in his arm, as did Tyris and Sam. “Khrome, Irazu. Get ready.” The two Brigadiers were already tensed to attack.

  The smoke cleared with a whoosh of air. The Cerc’s heart leaped into his throat.

  Sam gasped, “Impossible.” The flooring around Maelstrom was in scorched ruined, curls of wispy smoke twisting up into the ceilings. The Korvenite terrorist stood completely untouched. Maelstrom’s telekinesis had blocked all their attacks. Habraum’s terror rose sharply, causing him to stagger back.

  “You Union imperialists are simply inebriated with yourselves,” he sneered. The amber color in the llyriac’s irises faded into pitch-black. “Let me sober you.”

  In one quick motion, Maelstrom hooked his fingers into claws. Before the Brigade could move, bright, jagged psionic bolts exploded from those fingers, the power that was Maelstrom’s birthright. Numerous psionic bolts crisscrossing and forking through and skewering the Star Brigadiers’ bodies into a radiant web of agony.

  Only in Cybernarr captivity years ago had Habraum known pain so all-consuming. No amount of mental discipline primed him for this onslaught. The psionic lightning produced no heat, yet white-hot lances had scorched him inside out, setting his skin ablaze. Maelstrom ravaged Star Brigade with telekinetic bolts, while plunging into their minds and plucking forth their deepest agonies.

  Fears, regrets and losses far too numerous to detail plowed through Habraum’s psyche at FTL speed like a staticky viewscreen. The pain was too much, overwhelming every sense in Habraum’s body, building to an unbearable climax, as did the sight and sounds of his team’s torment. He heard and saw and felt their pain, as if it was his own.

  Sam spasming, shrieking. Honaa’s tortured rasping. Tyris thrashed about, chips of his glacial hide flew off in sprinkles, psionic bolts ripping through his body. And more lightning lanced into Marguliese, convulsing her body again and again. That’s when Habraum screamed…

  Then the attack stopped. Five Brigadiers fell to the ground with a collective thud; Khrome hitting with more of a clang. The room’s ensuing silence was broken by Maelstrom’s soft chuckling. “My ‘opposition’,” he mocked. The Korvenite tread closer, cape billowing out behind him.

  Habraum lay on his back, flickering in and out of consciousness. He tried turning his head to see if his team had survived, igniting ferocious agony in every part of his body. Even the act of inhaling scalded Habraum’s lungs. Through hazy vision, he saw Tyris, Marguliese and Honaa piled in a heap. Sam lay face down just inches away, eyes rolled back. CT-1 had fallen.

  Except Khrome, on one knee amidst his defeated teammates as curls of smoke trailed off his armored body. The Thulican powerhouse stood up. “Still here, Maelstrom,” he sneered. “What else you got?”

  The Korvenite appeared genuinely shocked. “Khromulus…you still stand? Most impressive.”

  Khrome gamely pounded his knuckles together
, making quite a din in the process. “I tend to leave that impression on other beings. Come here and I’ll make a more permanent impression on you.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Maelstrom held up a stalling hand and smiled. “I expect no less from one of your race, Khromulus. The Thulicans are like the Korvenites. You are like me. We both fight for our freedom.” Power radiated off Maelstrom as he slowly approached Khrome.

  Khrome’s eyes betrayed anger, but he maintained his position. Habraum uttered a silent curse, too weak to assist him. “I am nothing like you. I never murdered innocent—.”

  “These husks are as guilty as the humans themselves,” he gestured at the ruined remains of Thal’Kag, the living security guards and the Gilgamechs. “They helped imprison my brethren, worked them like beasts of burden. Curb yourself, Rothorid or I will!” Maelstrom’s eyes turned black as pitch.

  Habraum’s blurred attention was drawn to Honaa on his belly, slithering toward Maelstrom with grim determination. Instants later the Rothorid was howling in pain, curled into a human fetal posture.

  Khrome made furious moves forward. “Enough!”

  Maelstrom calmly looked up and Honaa stopped screaming. “Is it a crime to defend myself?”

  The Thulican bristled. “That barely scratches the surface of what you’ve done.”

  “No different from your actions during the Ferronos Sector War,” Maelstrom refuted, cool as ice. “I’m trying to save my race, from them.” He cast a baleful look at Habraum and Sam, who were finally stirring. “Even as we speak, I am circumventing this base’s security and transmatting all my brethren off onto my shrouded ship. I’ve even had forcefields erected around this very room so we aren’t disturbed. The other operators of this facility have no clue. What a feeble pretext for security.” The Korvenite scoffed and walked toward a large viewport. “Korvan’s offspring will know freedom, my young friend. And Sollus will belong to its rightful owners again.”

  The instant Maelstrom made mention of his ship, Habraum’s heart sank into a black hole. V’Korram and Liliana. Sam gaped, the horror on her face mirroring his own. Who knew what had been done to them and the Phaeton. Khrome stood there gawking at the Korvenite, flabbergasted. “How are you doing this?”

  Maelstrom folded his arms and smiled down at Khrome confidently. “There are many within and outside of your Union who support me. Many are of your own kind—.”

  Khrome shook his shiny, flat-topped head as if that was enough to refute the Korvenite. “You lie.”

  “Many of your kind have aided my cause for years,” he continued, as if Khrome hadn’t spoken. The Korvenite circled around Khrome, eyes never leaving his target. A sweetened malice coated every word he uttered. “Which is why you’re not dead, Khromulus. I owe your race a debt that can never be fully repaid. But I can start by letting you and your ‘Star Brigade’ live.”

  Khrome looked as if his head was about to explode from all this. “Are you joking?”

  Maelstrom stopped right in front of Khrome. “I don’t joke.”

  The Thulican glanced at his captain for guidance.

  “No,” Habraum managed to prop his agonized body up on an elbow. “D-don’t believe him.” Maelstrom would kill them all just like that…by the Twins, the thought of Liliana and V’Korram possibly dead hurt so much. Habraum hugged at his chest reflexively to hold himself together.

  “All I ask from you,” Maelstrom continued, ignoring the Cerc, “is but one thing.”

  “One thing?”

  “One thing,” Maelstrom raised a hand and Marguliese’s motionless body floated off the ground at his telekinetic command. He levitated her next to Khrome, who glanced from Maelstrom to the Cybernarr in confusion. Through the pain, Habraum felt a cold dread bleed into his chest. The Korvenite’s askance was crystal clear. “I know what she is. Kill the Cybernarr. That should be payment enough for your comrades’ freedom.”

  14.

  “The middle abdomen region,” Liliana calmly pointed at the gigantic creature chasing them, as if giving an anatomy dissertation. Fortunately, her xenobiology savvy hid how terrified she actually was. “That and right under the head are very vulnerable, where they absorb their diet of stellar emissions.”

  V’Korram responded by punching hard on the throttle, diving straight down and looping back right under the speedy betelydra’s long, spongy stretch of belly.

  “Quantum missiles armed?” he asked brusquely.

  “Yes,” Liliana nodded, and gawked. “Look out!”

  “See it!” V’Korram rolled to starboard, just as another z-bomb popped up on the port side’s sensors. Instants after they sped away, the z-bomb exploded. Liliana felt the whole ship rattle as the resulting shockwave hit them from a distance. “Obviously the KIF wants it to look like the betelydra did all the damage,” V’Korram snarled. “Why else would they stay cloaked and use only z-bombs?”

  The KIF’s motivations were the last thing on Liliana’s mind. “How are we getting past this thing and to the others? Even if we kill it, we’re no match for that ship.” At that moment the reality of the situation crashed down on Liliana, and panic began to overtake her. She saw the betelydra blink, shake shrapnel off its blubbery body in wriggling fashion and speed toward Phaeton again. “It’s impossible—.”

  “It is NOT impossible!” V’Korram roared, ears flattening. He brought Phaeton’s nose up and shot over another betelydra charge. “We’ll get CT-1 even if it kills us. Brigadiers don’t abandon each other!”

  The insinuation gut punched Liliana hard, making her gasp. Never did she consider abandoning CT-1. She opened her mouth defend herself, but V’Korram was too focused on keeping them alive.

  The betelydra, its previous battle wounds still trickling fluids into space, soared up after the Phaeton, closing in fast. And then V’Korram dived, plummeting down and across the betelydra’s uncovered belly.

  “Now Cortés!” he snarled. Liliana slammed down on the launching trigger. The Phaeton responded with four quantum missiles rocketing out of the missile bay—each one striking home. A series of ruptures across the betelydra’s belly gushed out green globs of fluid. The betelydra reared back, writhing its body in agony. This action sprayed more green viscera everywhere.

  But V’Korram, surly as ever, wasted no time reveling. He pulled the ship up and sped for Alorum’s looming grey surface…just dodging the betelydra’s spasming foot swing for the Phaeton’s underside.

  Liliana heard a KATOOM!—right before her world went spinning. The betelydra’s tail shot struck Phaeton’s bottom even with shields up, knocking the vessel completely out of control.

  The ship violently spun round and round without end. Liliana saw V’Korram fly past, smacking into the helm divider with a sickening crunch—one or two ribs had definitely been broken.

  Liliana was almost thrown from her seat, but she threw her arms around one of its arms, clinging on for dear life. The groan of crumpling hull and ship components was deafening. As her world went spinning, Liliana could see everything and nothing of the star-speckled black on the viewscreen stretching out into infinity. Immediately, the outlook rendered her powerless and nauseous, just like it had thirteen years ago, worse than the z-bomb attack had a few weeks ago. Neither V’Korram nor Star Brigade mattered anymore. Liliana’s space sickness shattered her newfound courage to pieces. The doctor shrieked, fearing the worst, her stomach roiling.

  The spinning, the groaning of ship parts stopped. The Phaeton finally righted itself.

  Liliana scrambled to her feet, shaking all over. A glance to her side revealed V’Korram, slumped over in the corner of the helm entrance, head lolling forward.

  “Dulce Madre, no!” Liliana ran to the Kintarian and knelt beside his body. V’Korram’s eyes were half-shut, a trickle of blood worming out of his nose. The doctor groped his neck region with skilled fingers, finding to her relief a steady pulse and shallow breathing. But after stroking over the fur covering his chiseled abs, Liliana felt the two frac
tured ribs she’d heard earlier. With V’Korram not critically injured, Liliana’s attention returned to the threat beyond the Phaeton’s viewscreen.

  The stony crescent of Alorum’s dayside hung in the distance, framed aberrantly by the Draconis’ charred remnants and the greenish blood pouring from the betelydra’s wounds. Watching that poor injured creature convulse violently struck a pang in Liliana’s heart, even though it was trying to kill her. The grisly scene drew closer, causing Liliana to ask “How are we moving?” She jumped to her feet and ran for the helm controls. Thanks to the shields, the Phaeton had only minor hull and systems damage.

  But still, why were they moving?

  Liliana began steering the controls, recalling all she had learned during Star Brigade training. The engines hummed in response, but the Phaeton kept pulling toward the thrashing betelydra. She punched down on the forward throttle and the stellar drive hum grew into a grinding whine. Still, the Phaeton kept on moving in the direction of the betelydra.

  “Tractor beam from the shrouded vessel,” she breathed, running her hands through her hair. “Madre, what do I do?” As if that wasn’t enough, in the throes of agony, the betelydra snapped its oval-like head at the immobile Phaeton and yet again barreled for the ship at breakneck speed.

  Liliana frantically worked at the helm, trying to get out of the tractor beam holding the ship in place

  “Come ON!” the doctor screamed in frustration, and glanced up at the viewscreen. The betelydra was quickly crossing the vast distance of space between itself and the Phaeton. Worse yet, she knew not to expect any help from the still unconscious V’Korram.

  Liliana was alone.

  Trying to maneuver the ship out of the tractor beam again only earned her the grating whine of an overtaxed stellar drive. Despair began to take over Liliana yet again. Trailing fluids into space, the betelydra’s gargantuan body filled the viewscreen—the last sight she would ever see…

  “No!” Liliana Cortés slapped herself hard with her left hand, and again with her right. If she was going to die today, then it would be fighting like a true Star Brigadier. The mutilated betelydra was almost on the Phaeton, close enough that she could see the blankness in its bulging black eyes.