Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3)

by C. C. Ekeke

  Young and old, politicians and merchant lords, vapid socialites and wannabe philanthropists, nearly all were Ttaunz decked out in their finest robes of Pallanorian chael. Chael was the latest trend in Ttaunz fashion, and in Ttaunz culture, appearances meant everything—besides pedigree and affluence, of course. Fel could smell the wealth and privilege oozing off this crowd, some who could give Terra Sollus’s moneyed elite a run for their currency.

  To any of these guests, Fel appeared to be a mysterious, handsome and well-dressed highborn Ttaunz: long white hair styled in entwined braids, glossy green pelt, tall and lean, wearing glittery black robes with intricate gold patterns.

  Yet all Fel got in passing were curious glances and the slight inward turn of shoulders to block him from joining any Ttaunz groupings. He welcomed the anonymity. In reality, the human was half a world away in a VR wearable suit projecting his “Ttaunz” hardlight holo-disguise into the exclusive gathering. Attending this gathering in person as ‘Tomoriq Fel’ would attract too much attention, distracting from tonight’s mission.

  If Fel didn’t know any better, it felt like he was on Faroor in one of those ridiculous highborn mansions. However, Senator Praece’s palatial estate was a close simulacrum located on Terra Sollus’s San Andreas coastline. The vaulted ceilings were covered in vibrant frescoes of renowned Ttaunz from the past. The entire flooring of Senator Praece’s abode was lustrous, white-stained amberlake wood. Walls of high-end ferroment coated with a beige pigment towered by the guests’ sides. At the ceiling’s apex, a four-tiered halolight fixture floated like an inverted pyramid, blocky layers expanding out and collapsing into themselves with rapid succession. The halolight illuminated several lengthy tables full of exotic delicacies, all from other Union memberworlds. Steamed blackmarsh conefish covered in tangy goldberry sauce from Terra Sollus and sun-blossom breadcakes smothered in shimmery green braesca jam from Aurealis were just a few of tonight’s dishes. Fel couldn’t miss the tired cliché of Ttaunz highborn mansions: large Ttaunz busts of Praece’s grandsires on pillar-like stands lining either side of the ballroom to show off his impeccable lineage.

  The cornerstone of his home was always the translucent wall-length viewport boasting unobstructed outlooks of the setting bullion sun—plus the floating island estates further off over the sea.

  The young merchant heirs and heiresses were easy to spot with their vacant stares and the certainty of their entitled opinions. “What did we all expect?” Fel heard one younger Ttaunz male spit. “The Magnus’s elder son spent more time with them than his own kind. Serves him right.”

  “We should not waste time negotiating with unwashed murdering savages who do not even speak Standard,” another female hammered home. “We should handle the Farooqua the same way the Earth humans did those wretched Korvenites years ago!”

  The inheritors to Faroor’s future, Fel shuddered. He looked up at the second-floor balcony, where Senator Praece and his wife would eventually emerge to greet their guests.

  “Another archaic Ttaunz tradition,” Fel muttered under his breath. Party hosts would make their guests wait sometimes for orvs before mingling. If it were up to him, he’d have projected himself directly into Senator Praece’s private chambers. But this estate’s encryption had forced Fel to enter like every other guest. Finally away from the boringly beautiful crowd of Ttaunz, Tomoriq found a depression in one of the mansion’s corridors. His locator algorithm had parsed through the estate’s deep encryption security and tracked Praece’s exact location. With a spoken command, the main ballroom vanished.

  An instant later, he stood in a spacious chamber where he was surrounded by obscenely expensive dresses. In the next room over, he spotted a pairing of floating holomirrors for a pairing of stupidly gorgeous Ttaunz.

  Saerece daughter of Hraima was chattering away in a singsongy tone, while her husband Senator Praece son of Proejer looked ready to staple her mouth shut. Of course, her world revolved around herself too much to notice. “No doubt the horny turtle will show up in another absurd dress that takes a nanoclic to strip off!” she continued.

  “Careful,” Praece chided. “That ‘turtle’ is friend to Faroor’s future Viceroy.”

  “Magnus of Faroor,” she corrected. “I know we’re on Terra Sollus, but there’s no need for proper ‘politicalese.’”

  “Right.” The Senator inspected himself in the mirror, looking every inch the archetypical highborn Ttaunz: tall, lissome and covered by short, blue downy fur. The coppery braided hair complimented his sculpted features well, as did the elegant silver and crimson robes he wore.

  Saerece herself was a vision in a slinky dress of obsidian over her slender, golden-pelted physique. Her indigo hair was shorn a few inches from the scalp like a proper female’s hairstyle. Both Praece and Saerece’s garments were made of lustrous Pallanorian chael, naturally.

  “Look at us, and how far we’ve come.” Saerece wrapped her arms around Praece’s waist from behind, nibbling on his neck adoringly—inappropriate behavior for Ttaunz in public. Praece closed his eyes, relishing her touch.

  From what Fel gathered in his discussions with Praece, the Senator did love his wife—but more how an owner loves a pet.

  He snorted with amusement at the memory, which made his Ttaunz disguise do the same. Saerece turned her head toward the sound, saw Fel, and then backpedaled at comical speeds, pointing and shrieking. The Senator’s eyes snapped open and widened at the source of his wife’s distress.

  “Please.” Fel raised the hands of his hardlight holo disguise as if surrendering. “Don’t stop on my account. I love a good show.”

  The Senator regained his highborn composure, glaring at Fel with unrecognizing fury. “How did you get past my security—”

  “Easily, Praece,” Fel cut in with a brisk hand chop. “Besides, we’re old UNIFY friends.”

  Saerece, who had plastered herself against the room’s octagonal-shaped walls, was less than amused. “Praece, remove this middle-born churl from our chambers! And why do you have a UNIFY account—”

  The Senator placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, silencing her. Startled recognition had washed away his outrage. “Saerece, he is a friend. Inappropriate and presuming, but still a friend.”

  A few muttered words from the Union Senator calmed his spouse. She flashed her award-winning smile. “I’ll leave you to your business.” She then exited the chambers with a regal sashay in her hips.

  “Quite the disguise,” Praece stated as he and Fel entered the art gallery adjacent to his bedchambers. Its platinum-lined walling was adorned with hologram paintings from Galdor, Monaskoa, and many other Union worlds. “You could have called.”

  Fel shook his head. “A face-to-face was needed, given this past week’s events.” He strolled through the gallery. “How long will you keep them waiting downstairs?”

  “Another orv” Praece shrugged, causing his fancy crimson robes to ripple like sparkling water. “Our expansion bill is heading into the Senate Chambers for a vote. That is reason enough to celebrate.”

  “True.” Fel smiled upon hearing that. “Some might say your celebration is extravagantly ill-timed, given the chaos on your homeworld.”

  “Because of Taorr’s abduction and Ghuj’aega?” Praece bristled, his eyes full of poison. “Even my unborn child in an ex vitro chamber knows Taorr is as good as dead, sad to say. Any hope for peace between my race and the Farooqua tribes is lost.” He looked weary of this topic already. “The Ttaunz Defense Force hunts Ghuj’aega, but he’s a phantom, everywhere when he strikes yet nowhere to be found.”

  “It also seems to have allotted the TDF justification to try wiping out every Farooqua Tribal Nation,” Fel stated. All the players, incidents, and aftermaths on Faroor these last few years had been of keen interest to him.

  “You know how my kind thinks.” Praece stood in front of an ornate rainbow-hued holopainting of Jhoda origin. Below the image sat a baulkwood liquor cabinet that the senator was opening up. “I
n some ways they are more primitive-thinking than the Farooqua.” Praece had pulled out a slim, crystal goblet. “I’d offer you a glass if you were here in person.”

  “Words like that to your friends out there would get you flayed.” The disguised human smiled. Praece’s progressive thinking compared to his Ttaunz contemporaries never ceased to surprise Fel, one of the reasons he had collaborated with the junior Senator in the first place. “What shocked me more was you backstabbing your friend, the former Chouncilor.”

  Praece stiffened. “I took no pride in that act. But anything that Bogosian touches is radioactive. Any association with him is political suicide. Moreover, I never would have gained Senator Guilloche’s support for my senate bill by backing Ari’s Korvenite directive…or fighting his No Confidence vote against our blundering interim Chouncilor.”

  Fel nodded, respecting that cutthroat sensibility. Morje’Huijadan’s days as Chouncilor had been numbered the moment he took Bogosian’s position, trying in vain to clean up the chaos left in his former superior’s exit. The Voton’s ousting would trigger an emergency election to appoint a new Choucilor, Fel realized, his mind racing with possibilities. But that presented another opportunity for another time. Faroor remained the priority. “Well done,” he continued. “Let’s hope such change in heart never occurs in our relationship.” Despite the joke in his voice, he let an undercurrent of warning seep into his words.

  By how Praece paled beneath his downy blue fur, he understood the message.

  “Back to our expansion bill,” Fel continued before he could reply, “particularly the addendum to allow excavation access on Qos.” For years, Qos was off-limits per a century-old Ttaunz treaty with the Tribal Nations. Faroor’s moon not only emitted a unique radiation, possibly boasting a new energy source, but contained surface metals never observed elsewhere in the known galaxy.

  Just like when they first partnered up, Fel saw no desire in Praece to honor the timeworn deal. “That treaty was ripped to shreds the moment their suicide bombs exploded in Ttaunz city-states.”

  Finding a suitable bottle of onnulei, Praece filled a goblet with purple-tinged wine, filling it only three-quarters full. “What besides others’ imports keep Faroor’s one-track economy afloat? Tonight’s food, all our clothes, this wine…” Praece frowned when placing the wine bottle back in its compartment. “None is produced by the Ttaunz. I more than anyone understand we are a planetary republic in a star-spanning government. It would be absurd not to sample its wonders.” The senator took in his art gallery with smoldering pride. “But there’s a difference between sampling and overindulging. We Ttaunz have pretty much gorged ourselves.”

  Praece shook his head after a long swallow of wine. “There are many among my kind, archaic obstructionists like Defense Minister Haemekk, who still think The Supremacy will rise again into a star-spanning power.” The senator gave a scornful laugh. “It won’t, ever. Faroor needs to become more than just a glorified trading post. My economic expansion bill will give power back to the Ttaunz, allow us to exploit Faroor’s resources to build business made there, not everywhere else in the Union.”

  Fel raised his brow at Praece’s words. “Your goals are quite lofty, Senator.”

  “One has to be more cosmic-minded to change the world,” Praece countered.

  Fel barked out a laugh. “Truer words have never been spoken. Once that bill passes, my resources will be at your homeworld’s disposal.”

  With that, the senator raised his goblet. “To the Supremacy that was, and Faroor’s future.”

  Fel nodded in agreement. “To Faroor’s future.” However short that may be, he smiled to himself, after I obtain that power source. “And don’t worry about Minister Haemekk. I’m guessing that your bête noire will soon no longer be anyone’s concern.”

  Chapter 31

  Herope’s early morning rosy rays burned right through the morning fog over Thasque. Star Brigade and its TerraTrooper allies rocketed out of Magnasterium in their modified assault transport. The greenish-grey military vehicle resembled a massive yet sleek and angular caterpillar. Hovering mere feet off the ground, the vehicle traveled away from Thasque and civilized Ttaunz territories.

  Habraum sat near the transport’s nav section in his white, green, and gold field uniform. The transport flew on autopilot, hurtling over 170 mph toward xepherite mines used for Ghebrekh impact bombs.

  Habraum easily scanned several floating holoscreens of data submitted by Khal, all which had looked incoherent last night. Four orvs of sleep had made light years of difference. The same couldn’t be said to explain his bizarre exchange with Sam. Habraum would deal with her usual brand of crazy later.

  The mission—taking out Ghuj’aega and his insurgents—had the Cerc’s full attention. He needed CT-1 to have the same laser focus. Through translucent, floating data reports, he observed his team. V’Korram hunched over a datapad with his usual scowl, probably reviewing which locations the Ghebrekh tribe favored. Even the Kintarian’s slightest body motions had catlike grace. No need for concern there.

  Tyris spoke quietly with Khal and Khrome, the latter laughing and joking while constructing something in his massive hands. Habraum smiled. It took a lot to truly bother the Thulican.

  “Thanks, Khrome,” said Khal. “Have no clue where my old wristcom disappeared to. I was…occupied.” His lazy smile had a smugness that just irked Habraum on all levels.

  “No worries.” Khrome shrugged his massive shoulders as he toyed with the wristcom. He tapped lightly on the back of the device and it beeped twice. “Did you use the locator beacon to try finding it?”

  Khal’s good humor vanished. “Tried that,” he snapped, annoyed by the question. “It didn’t work.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” Khrome handed the dull metallic communicator to his human teammate. “Once activated and keyed to your bio signature, the other one deactivates.” Visibly tired of talking to Khal, Khrome looked relieved when Liliana settled nearby. But by the doctor’s zoned-out expression, something from last night had her rattled.

  The Cerc frowned, but decided that Liliana had more than proven herself before. She’ll be on when it counts.

  In the transport’s rear, Corporal Uyull and Specialist Byzlar occupied a floating table of translucent plastic, thoroughly checking pulse pistols and other weapons scattered across its surface.

  Habraum turned as Marguliese approached, Mhir’ujiid in tow. The teenager had not left the Cybernarr’s side since yesterday. “The orbital drones are in position,” Marguliese announced, lean and statuesque in her catsuit uniform.

  With terse hand gestures, Habraum closed all but one holoscreen and straightened in his seat.

  “Brilliant. Call Sergeant Fiyan.” The Cybernarr turned and did as requested.

  “All those transport upgrades your tech did are…amazing,” Fiyan marveled as she strode up, dressed in a greyish-brown military uniform, complete with armor and munitions.

  “Surprised?” Habraum leaned back and arched an eyebrow.

  “Impressed,” Fiyan countered, sitting across from Habraum while Marguliese sat next to him. “You continue to prove all that I’ve heard about Star Brigade.”

  As they bantered, Habraum spied Mhir’ujiid edging away from the gathering. Covered in frayed cloth of the Quud tribe, she looked uncomfortable, as if knowing this meeting wasn’t her place.

  “No, Mhir’ujiid.” Habraum motioned to her. “Stay put.”

  The Farooqua still looked reluctant, but cracked a smile when taking a seat next to Fiyan.

  “How many of these drones will orbit Faroor?” Sergeant Fiyan asked, watching a floating holoscreen displaying a small, flat, jet-like projectile.

  “Twenty,” Habraum answered, “spread across the globe, tracking the energy signature Ghuj’aega gives off. Once energy is recorded, the drone closest to the event will sync to the transmat system in this transport, taking us instantly to wherever Ghuj’aega is on Faroor.”

  Fiyan st
udied the projectile more closely. “But you said whenever Ghuj’aega uses his powers, an energy signature appears in two different locations. How will you know which is his actual location?”

  “The larger, more destructive energy distortions are feedback from Ghuj’aega using his powers,” Marguliese began, her right eye flashing like a jagged starburst of sapphire. She poked delicately at the drone hologram, making it shrink away before a red 3D globe outline of Faroor. Bright dots speckled all over the screen represented current locations for every drone orbiting below the Faroor atmosphere. “But the lower-level fluctuations detected at the same time are from Ghuj’aega himself, or so we suppose. These drones will track the lower-level fluctuations.”

  “In the interim…” Habraum switched the holoscreen with a casual wave of his hand. A list of Farooqua tribes and their residences on Faroor appeared. “We’re visting certain Farooqua settlements that Mhir’ujiid’s tribe has good relations with. She will pump them for information on the Ghebrekh’s whereabouts under the premise of the Quud wanting a dialogue.”

  “Sound strategy,” Fiyan noted, biting her lower lip. “However, I’m not a fan of heading into a hostile situation with so few soldiers. And since the UComm’s forces on Faroor are stretched thin, we should consider including the TDF when we actually find Ghuj’aega and the Ghebrekh.”

  Habraum glared at the Sergeant as if she’d just slapped him. “Absolutely not.”

  “Nwosu,” Fiyan appealed with her lower pair of hands, “as a soldier stationed on Faroor for two years, I hate how the Ttaunz operate. But we have to work with them on their planet. Don’t let what they did to this girl cloud your judgment.”

  Habraum shook his head with a long sigh, expecting her resistance. “I’m here on Faroor to do a job, and it’s not to make the Ttaunz feel important. Besides, they want all Farooqua Tribal Nations wiped off the globe, not just the Ghebrekh, and are looking for any reason to do that. Keeping them out of Star Brigade’s way is the best approach to actually help them.”