by C. C. Ekeke
“Okay,” Tharydane nodded, much to Sam and Lethe’s delight. “Let’s do it!”
“Done.” Habraum kneeled down, in his black and grey Captain’s uniform. He looked into the mirror, pleased with his handiwork. “What do you think?”
Jeremy, the recipient of his father’s fashion genius, stared at his reflection. “It looks like the weird stuff grandpa wears, Daddy.” The boy squirmed uncomfortably in his clothing, a long and shapeless cream-colored shirt with a mixture of synchronized colors and designs. The pants were of the same color. Nigerians of Old Earth called this a dashiki. “Can’t I wear normal clothes?”
Habraum saw the embarrassment on Jeremy’s face and sighed. “These are normal, Jer. You look very dapper.” He stood up, barely suppressing a grimace. Almost two weeks had passed since his injuries at Maelstrom’s hands. But his mending back and ribs still gave a dull throb. Liliana said it would pass in another week. Habraum still couldn’t believe she had battled the KIF side-by-side with the Kedri Sovereign. That would be a story for her grandkids. “You’ll be late for school if we keep debating this.”
“But Daddy—!”
Habraum raised a hand to cut him off. “No way would I try embarrassing you, Jeremy. But what you’re wearing is part of your Nigerian heritage. Be proud of that,” he kept his voice even and calm.
The last part of his father’s tirade made Jeremy’s sour look fade. “Okay, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just wear it with pride.” Habraum guided Jeremy down the stairs.
He could feel Jeremy’s large eyes fixed on him. “But what if my friends make fun of me?”
“Then they aren’t really your friends, are they?” When the two Nwosus reached the bottom of the stairwell, Habraum fussily pressed away at any lingering wrinkles on the dashiki.
The answer seemed to satisfy Jeremy. “Okay, Daddy.” After snatching up Jeremy’s school bag, the two left for the hangar bay. Jeremy held tightly onto Habraum’s hand, a simple but satisfying pleasure.
The mood had been downright dreary after the Battle of Terra Sollus and Honaa’s death. Only now did he start seeing some of the Brigade and Hollus’s other personnel showing signs of life. Habraum nodded at most whom he passed, as they saluted him back. Jeremy, of course, greeted everyone. When they reached the hangar bay entrance, a mass of tawny fur shot out the door, V’Korram Prydyri-Ravlek.
When the two Nwosus caught his eye, Habraum expected the Kintarian’s default surliness. But as V’Korram gracefully padded by, he sized up his superior up and gave him a brusque, but respectful nod. Habraum was so shocked, he almost forgot to return the gesture. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.
The hangar was a bit bare this morning, mainly UComm officers prepping ships to survey the damage of Conuropolis. Habraum wouldn’t be on one of those surveys, doctor’s orders.
While approaching Jeremy’s transport to Poseidon Preparatory, they passed by the Ishiliba, a Century-Class vessel newly christened in Honaa’s memory. Habraum realized he had stopped to stare when Jeremy tugged urgently at his hand. “Oh—sorry sprout.” Habraum continued toward the transport.
“When are you gonna see Therri-DANI with me?” Jeremy asked. Habraum let out an exasperated sigh. The boy had asked him about four times a day since meeting that Korvenite girl.
“Jeremy, I’ll go visit her with you, soon,” Habraum replied. At first, he felt weird about letting his son visit Tharydane. But with both Sam and Lethe always with him, those doubts were alleviated.
“You said that yesterday,” Jeremy pouted. “And the day before that and the day before that.”
“Alright already!” Habraum shook his head in amusement. “After school today, we’ll pick a date—.” Jeremy barely heard his father, fixated at something behind them with an intense joy. Then he followed his son’s gaze and did a double take. Several metrids away were Lethe and Sam exiting a skiff, followed by a familiar looking Korvenite girl. She was petite in height, maybe a few inches shorter than Sam, with elfin features that didn’t betray her adolescence. A dark lavender mane cascaded far past her shoulders in bountiful curls. Her black-sclera, golden-iris eyes darted all over. She was clearly scared witless.
Tharydane Eirrouma, on Hollus Maddrone. And Habraum had no prior knowledge of her arrival. He opened his mouth, but was drowned out by Jeremy shrieking, “THERRI-DANI!” The boy sprinted for the Korvenite at top speed, the dashiki shirt he wore fluttering up and down. Sam turned and giggled. Lethe nodded respectively. But more noticeably, Tharydane’s fear fell from her like a cloak.
“Jeremy!” Habraum shouted, just before he reached Tharydane. The boy stopped obediently, but a vibro-scrub brush couldn’t wipe off the grin plastered on his face. Habraum reached his son in six limping strides and placed his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders to keep him in place. Sam grinned like a child who stole from a cookie jar, Lethe’s three mouths modestly beamed. Only Tharydane noticeably shrank under Habraum’s probing glare.
“You look handsome, Jerm,” Sam commented, before turning her attention back on Habraum.
There were many things he could have said, but held his tongue in front of the children present. “Tharydane, hello,” he forced a smile at Tharydane.
“Hi Therri-Dani!” Jeremy waved feverishly. She waved back, but her eyes were on Habraum.
“So,” Habraum returned his attention to the two adults. “Something you’d like to tell me?”
“Yes,” Lethe said, placing a hand on Tharydane’s shoulder. “Tharyn will be living with Sam now.”
“On…Hollus Maddrone?” Habraum asked slowly.
Sam frowned and put her hands on her hips. “No flyboy, on Halley’s Comet.”
“Watch it,” the Cerc warned.
Jeremy, hopping up and down, couldn’t be happier at the news. “YAY! Therri-Dani’s living here—.”
“Shhhhhh!” Habraum sucked on his teeth irately and Jeremy obediently hushed. This was a lot to process. Keeping one hand on Jeremy, he gestured at the trio. “What about living arrangements?”
“I’ll be her primary guardian, so she’ll take the spare room in my quarters.” Sam motioned to the Korvenite and then glanced at Lethe. “But Lethe will be the one to instruct Tharyn on her psionic abilities and when I’m away on missions, she’ll live with Lethe here.”
For a long moment Habraum said nothing, considering how this girl could be a potential security risk. At the same time, Tharydane living on Hollus was Lethe’s call as starbase administrator. And I pulled the same thing bringing Marguliese onboard. “Alright,” he nodded, much to Sam’s evident relief. Habraum held out his hand. “Welcome to Hollus, Tharydane.”
At first Tharydane just stared, unsure what to do. But after an approving look from Lethe, she shook his hand. After that, Jeremy pounced and gave Tharydane a bear hug which she eagerly returned.
“Jeremy, time to go.” Habraum had to pry the boy off her. “We’re running late enough as it is.”
“But Daddy—!”
“But nothing, let’s get a move on.” He ushered the child toward his school transport. After a quick kiss on the cheek and hug, Jeremy’s transport shuttle lifted off and eased through the wide forcefield egress protecting the hangar’s atmosphere from Zeid’s. Then it darted away through the thick emerald clouds of Zeid toward Terra Sollus. When Habraum turned, Lethe and Tharydane were at the hangar exit, but Sam waited for him nearby.
“I gather you’d been plotting this for a while?” Habraum scratched his goatee, still digesting the whole situation.
Sam shrugged and grinned her crooked grin. “Plotting sounds so sinister. I decided on it yesterday.”
“You might want to at least send a TransNet message next time,” Habraum said, approaching her.
“She had nowhere else to go, Habraum,” Sam retorted, no longer smiling. “And you’d have said no.”
“You don’t know that.” Habraum folded his arms across his chest, looking down into Sam’s eyes. “There are rules, Samantha
and going behind my back is not the way to go about things.”
Sam made a rude noise. “We’ve both done our share of that.” The gulf between him and Sam since the Terra Sollus attack and Honaa’s death was excruciatingly palpable. Things had improved after Honaa’s funeral, but not enough for Habraum’s liking. She was still keeping her emotional distance. Habraum, in no mood to deal with their issues now, moved past her toward the hangar exit.
“Braum?”
Habraum stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, Sammie?”
She was looking fidgety, but her gaze remained steady. “Can we talk, later today?”
Hearing that made Habraum turn around completely. “About?”
“All sorts of things,” Sam shrugged again. “I got time after our all-hands.”
Habraum scratched his goatee thoughtfully. His schedule today was booked solid between an all-hands with Star Brigade’s entire field and support rosters in half an orv, followed by a holoconference with UIB and the UComm JSOG chiefs. Except for lunch… “Lunch in the Hollusphere around 1230 orvs?” Though he didn’t show it, Habraum was overjoyed at possibly having his best friend back. The last time she ‘opened up’ a few days ago was when they interred Honaa’s holo into Memorial Hall, one of the most difficult things Habraum had ever done. And Sam’s way of opening up meant slapping him twice across the face and then sobbing hysterically on his shoulder. The next day she was back to being lukewarm at best, detached at worst.
“Okay,” Sam grinned rather girlishly. “Then it’s a date.”
That thought had occurred to him, but Habraum laughed it off. “If you say so, Sammie.”
Sam, still smiling, thrust both hands into her pockets and backpedaled several steps. Her affectionate eyes locked with Habraum’s like magnets, sending goosebumps up the nape of his neck. Now that was the Sam he knew and…adored.
She pivoted gracefully on her heel and headed toward Lethe and Tharydane, both waiting for her at the far hangar bay right exit. It wasn’t until Sam was gone that Habraum noticed the dopey grin plastered on his own face. “Way to look like a total klonk,” he muttered to himself. Once he had left the hangar bay, Habraum’s thoughts drifted back to Star Brigade and all the madness around it.
Because of his injuries and Honaa’s funeral, he hadn’t been able to address Star Brigade since the Battle of Terra Sollus. Meaning, he’d better come up with something worthwhile to say and not completely wing it. The Cerc figured he’d use Marguliese as a sounding board—.
Habraum stopped in mid-stride. “Rogguts!” he snapped loudly, startling a few officers passing by.
Marguliese. As much as he wanted her to stay, Habraum had to honor his promise to Khrome. The time had long passed to send her off. “Locate Marguliese,” Habraum instructed a nearby wall console, drumming his hands impatiently alongside. In moments he received his answer; the Primary Veranda.
With that Habraum was on the move. A quick walk across Hollus and an even shorter translifter ride to the starbase’s upper levels and the Cerc arrived at the entrance to the Primary Veranda. He walked out of the translifter toward the entrance, pondering what he might say to the Cybernarr. But his mind was a jumble of nonsense. Then the veranda door slid open and out came Khrome.
Habraum stopped, his gaze hardening. “Lieutenant?”
“Morning oh Captain, my Captain,” the Thulican said casually, looking unsurprised to see him.
Habraum watched him go, trying to grasp what he had just seen. Were Khrome and Marguliese…talking? “She out there…in one piece?”
Khrome pushed out a dry chuckle and nodded. “Thank you for honoring your word. But, you don’t have to anymore.”
Now Habraum was utterly confused. “Huh,” The Cerc scratched the back of his bald head. What was the Thulican playing at? “You sure?”
Khrome focused on his superior with a pained stare and muttered, “Wish I wasn’t,” before whirling around and stomping off.
His mind all tangled up, Habraum entered the Veranda and was beset by the familiar eerie green hue of Zeid’s atmosphere. The jumble of fluffy green clouds swelled and rippled before Habraum, looking like they were fighting over which one got to be basked in Rhyne’s sunlight. But he barely noticed. Marguliese stood the edge of the terrace, facing the thick forcefield that protected anyone from Zeid’s harsh atmosphere. She had her back to him, arms folded behind it.
“Hello Habraum,” she said without looking as the Veranda entrance shut behind Habraum.
“Maggie?” Habraum strode closer, almost warily. “Did I just see Khrome leaving here?”
“I cannot attest for what you saw before entering here, but yes, Khromulus did exit the Veranda.”
Somehow that simple answer didn’t gel in Habraum’s mind. “And both of you are in one piece?”
Marguliese still faced the clouds. “We are two separate pieces to be exact—.”
“Now’s not the time to greybrick me,” Habraum scowled.
Marguliese turned to face him completely, her long crimson ponytail tossed over her shoulder. The cold intensity of her cerulean eyes wasn’t lost under the emerald blaze of Zeid’s atmosphere, yet her gold complexion looked slightly dulled. “We were merely conversing,” she commented impassively. “You require my assistance?”
Habraum steeled himself. “Yes, well—.” For a moment the Cerc realized he still had no clue what to say, until it just spilled out. “Khrome asked that you stay.”
Marguliese remained still, save the jagged glow of her cerulean eyes. “His abhorrence for me and my kind is unchanged,” Marguliese replied as if speaking about a mundane news clipping. “But he feels that I would be a valuable asset to Star Brigade.”
“Is everyone making decisions without telling me?” Habraum snapped.
Marguliese raised her eyebrows. “Pardon?”
Habraum shrugged off the comment. “Nothing.” That explained Khrome’s nonchalance. The Cerc folded his arms across his chest, secretly pleased. First, him and Sam were mending fences. Now, Marguliese didn’t have to leave. Today was shaping up to be a good one.
“Before you agree to extending my tenure,” Marguliese said. “I should remind you of the dangers associated with me staying on Hollus Maddrone and Star Brigade—.”
“I know the risks, Marguliese,” Habraum frowned. And amazingly, he didn’t care. The Cerc glanced at his chronometer. “Rogguts, I’ve got a speech to prep.” He turned toward the Primary Veranda’s exit. Habraum called over his shoulder. “I could use some help from my newest Brigadier.”
Marguliese raised an eyebrow, the dangerous threat of a smile playing across her lips. “On my way…Captain Nwosu.” The Cybernarr succinctly walked past Habraum and strode inside.
Habraum smiled. With one last look at the sparkling sunrise, he followed her back inside.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my book’s amazing editors; Stephanie, Crazy Mike, Angela, Rachel (twice). Thanks once again to Joseph, Jaime, Evin, and Natalia for beta reading. Special thanks to John Zaozirny for your feedback and introducing me to the eBook world. To Milan Jaram for giving my second book cover an identity and an amazing story. A big thanks of course my mom and older sisters, for everything. And to all those fans who read and reviewed and kept asking for the next book. You make all the hard work totally worth it!
STAND
A Short Story
>>Threat Classification: Cybernarr Infiltrooper.
“Is there an issue you aspire to discuss before I depart?” Marguliese asked in her monotone, robotic voice, “Or did you summon me out here to glare.”
Khromulus Threedwok said nothing at first, indeed glaring silently at Marguliese across Hollus Maddrone’s Veranda, a semicircular outside deck at the very top of the starbase shielded only by a powerful, transparent forcefield. Zeid’s churning emerald clouds were all around them, silent specters to this heated confrontation.
Marguliese was tall, slender and sloping in build; with that silve
ry metal right arm, gold-sheathed skin smoother than silk and long fiery-red hair tied in a sleek ponytail. How could anyone not believe this creature—this Marguliese—was a cyborg of human origin?
But Khrome knew better, as did every member of CT-1. As accurate as her disguise was, even the human-shaped azure eyes staring back at him, the Thulican only saw a Cybernarr.
All 5’7, 275 lbs. of Khrome itched to ram his fist straight through her unemotional face. Or rip her head off with a quick, satisfying twist and crush it with his bare hands for good measure.
Marguliese’s guise was a mockery of humanity allowing her to hide in plain sight. And to his dismay he’d been ordered by his own commander to preserve this lie for the past six weeks, using his knowledge of biotechnology to throw off any outside suspicion—all for the sake of Star Brigade.
Now with Maelstrom dead and the Korvenite Independence Front decimated, Marguliese’s tenure had Star Brigade ended.
Now I can destroy her, Khrome considered with grim satisfaction.
>>Load Extermination options.
He’d devised 23 scenarios to kill this monster since her brief Star Brigade tenure began, cooking up 3 new ones just this morning. Khrome analyzed her defenses at the moment, and none of the lethal ones were active.
>>Select Extermination options.
Taking the Cybernarr by surprise and ending her with any chosen scenario could be quick and quiet.
Instead, Khrome planned on having a conversation with Marguliese.
He came to converse with an exile of the cybernetic race that had enslaved and culled his species for almost half a century, as if they weren’t mortal enemies.
If the Thulican had a stomach in the way full organic species did, this idea would’ve sickened him to its very bottom. Marguliese stood stiller than a sculpture, waiting.
For my response or my attack? Khrome didn’t know.
