by C. C. Ekeke
25.
Khrome yelled. Sam shouted. Honaa, freshly healed, ground his needle-like teeth in hostile silence. Habraum Nwosu stood before the firing squad of his teammates’ fury on Phaeton’s bridge, suffering it all in silence. He wondered if previous Senior Executive Officers had to endure such bile to their orders.
Let them get it out of their system, Habraum told himself patiently, then explain again. Everyone still wore their battle-stained field uniforms, which Habraum felt made the scene a tad ridiculous.
They had every right to be angry, especially Khrome, but he’d expected a day or so to sell his divisive strategy for bringing the Cybernarr onto Star Brigade. Right after Habraum had introduced Marguliese on the VanoTech mines, Khrome had to be restrained again—from attacking him.
Marguliese had hitched a ride on Phaeton, mercifully staying on a separate part of the ship until they reached Hollus Maddrone. Yet in her absence, the atmosphere had grown hotter than a planet’s core.
“I can’t believe you recruited a Cybernarr and kept it from us!” Sam cried, her face twisted with fury, oddly increasing her allure. “I mean, a CYBERNARR?!”
“That thing and its ilk killed my progenitors!” Khrome roared, his usual humor gone. “Culled my species like chaff!” His compact, silvery form quivered with barely contained wrath, ready to explode…a scary thought. “After what they did to you during the War, how could you do this?”
“Have you forgotten Alcaide and Dayssspring?” Honaa hissed from his crouched pose near the comm station. While the most subdued of Marguliese’s detractors, the Rothorid’s tone suggested he’d rather be struck by a comet than let Marguliese into the Brigade. “Over 3,000 casssualtiesss…their remainsss left floating in ssspace like flotssam.” Habraum scowled, having no taste for that recollection. The Galactic Union populace and government alike had watched in helpless horror as the Technoarchy mercilessly destroyed two UComm Ferronos Sector outposts back in 2391, Alcaide Research Station and Dayspring Observation Outpost. That had been meant as a warning for the Union not to get involved with the Thulicans. Thus, the Ferronos Sector War had begun in blistering earnest.
“He’s a Cybernarr thrall!” Khrome pointed an accusing finger at him. “The Technoarchy is using him to infiltrate the Union.”
Habraum glowered at the Thulican. “Mind your tongue, Khrome. I am no thrall.” In any other situation, Habraum should’ve rebuked the Thulican more for his upsprung behavior. But that’d be like firing a pulse rifle in a gas-filled room.
“No, Khrome,” said Sam, disdain sharpening her words. “He’s just a càochutiya!” The Cerc sensed her anger stemmed mainly from being left in the dark. “Christ! Got me so pissed I’m using stupid-ass ‘New Earth’ swearwords.”
A quick glance around the bridge confirmed that Tyris and V’Korram had slipped out discreetly after the Phaeton docked. Lucky them, Habraum thought.
The Cerc folded his arms behind his back and paced slowly. “I would’ve informed Star Brigade of Marguliese. But matters rocketed faster than planned. Khrome,” he focused again on the Thulican, “it wasn’t my aim to offend you.” Khrome snorted derisively, as best as one could with no visible nose.
“Marguliese’s presence is temporary.” He stopped and faced his detractors. “Just until we get the Brigade in proper shape.” How could they not see why he did this? Habraum couldn’t…wouldn’t let this combat team end up like his and Jovian Ivers’ teams on Beridaas. This is the only way.
“And a Cybernarr is the best you can drum up?” Sam laughed bitterly. “How wonderfully brilliant.”
“I’m offering a solution,” Habraum countered, his mouth tightening. “A way to get our inexperienced combat team ready, yet you throw it back in my face? I thought you needed me!”
“I do need you!” Sam threw back. Habraum flinched at the words, their implications, glancing nervously at the other Brigadiers. To her credit she grasped this too, hastily adding, “Star Brigade needs you. But not if you’re going to bring a meteor shit shower down on us!”
Honaa either overlooked or ignored the brief discomfort. “You think Khrome’sss reaction wasss extreme? What if other Thulicansss find out? Or the Kedri, with a flotilla parked outside the Dracius Clussster for eight years. Their ‘Eternal War’ againssst the Technoarchy isss called that for a reassson.”
Habraum lifted his chin resolutely. “They won’t find out.”
The Rothorid shook his head, deaf to the long-term gain. “You don’t know that.”
“She has to go,” Sam gestured at the exit to Phaeton’s bridge to emphasize her point.
“No,” Habraum declared in hard, iron tones. He had stomached all he cared to of his subordinates’ defiance. “Marguliese stays. End of discussion.”
Khrome’s eyes went saucer-wide. Honaa buried his snout in his hands with disbelief.
Sam reeled back as if slapped. Then she straightened up, her features frosting over. “I think I’ve had enough,” she declared with unsettling calm. “I’m gonna go…before I kill him.” Sam turned and stormed off the bridge.
Of the three remaining Brigadiers, only Khrome looked alarmed by Sam’s exit. Honaa, having seen this too many times, shook his scaly head with long-suffering patience. Habraum sighed. She’d come to him when she had cooled off, like always. Then they could talk like adults.
“Thisss isss foolhardy,” Honaa hissed. His maroon scales flushed an angry dark rouge. “I jussst hope Sstar Brigade doesssn’t sssuffer for it.” He too turned and left, swishing his long tail behind him.
That left Khrome and Ensign Liddell, the latter still fretfully fidgeting at the helm.
“Ensign, you’re excused. Tell no one about what you heard,” Habraum ordered. Liddell leaped from his helm seat, avoiding eye contact as he darted out.
“I’ll say nothing, Captain. Out of respect. But I won’t work with that butcher.” Khrome strode up to Habraum, looking rather mutinous, his metallic skin shimmering. “Either she goes or I go.”
Habraum forced himself again to stay composed. “I won’t choose. You’re both valuable—.”
“Then you made your choice.” Without another word he turned to walk away.
“Khrome wait.” Habraum strode forward, placing a firm hand on Khrome’s shoulder. He felt the chiseled power beneath the Thulican’s metal hide. If Khrome wanted to he could keep walking and drag Habraum along like a rag doll. Thankfully he stopped, but refused to turn around.
“Wait for what?” Khrome growled, the metallic timbre in his voice harsh. “I’ll send my resignation request to you and UComm.” Khrome jerked away from Habraum’s grasp.
Habraum knew he walked on fragile ground right now, but knew his next words would make or break his relationship with the young Thulican. “Look here, at least.” He fingered behind his right ear and the psi-damper came off. “This,” Habraum dangled the spherical device near Khrome’s face. The Thulican half-turned, examining it. “Do you know how many lives you saved today with these?”
“So?” Khrome grumbled. “Lots of Thulicans could do that with one arm cuffed behind their backs.”
“None as all-around gifted as you.” Habraum spread his arms wide. “Your work these past few weeks has been essential. The way you shielded those hostages from the Retributionaries. Or mesh so well with your teammates. And I’m not just saying this to keep you here.”
Khrome’s face softened. Habraum felt his heart leap a little and kept pressing forward.
“You have the potential to be a great Brigadier. And you want to scuttle away because of an old rivalry? That’s the very reason we’re in this KIF throwdown, an old rivalry. Do I hate what the Korvenites did to Earth? Of course I do! But unlike most earthborn, I don’t hate the entire race.”
Khrome turned and faced Habraum directly. “You trust her?”
“With my life,” Habraum answered immediately. “She’s the reason why I’m here today. You should have been the first to hear about Marguliese. And for that, I apolo
gize.”
For the first time Khrome’s gaze fell, along with his implacable fury. Habraum pounced on the opening. “Other than field operations and combat team meetings, you’ll have no contact with Marguliese. After the team’s ready and this KIF mess is sorted, she’s gone. I promise.”
For several moments the Thulican said nothing, clenching and unclenching of his fists loudly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Khrome finally looked up at his superior officer unhappily. “Only because of my oath to Star Brigade and to the Union.” Khrome pointed a stubby finger at Habraum.
“I understand, Lieutenant,” Habraum, relieved and thankful, decided to push his lucky even further. “One more thing. Conjure up some biotech code to inject into Marguliese so she can’t be traced by the Kedri or any other Thulican…except you.” That had always been part of Habraum’s plan to get Khrome onboard, had there been time to explain. The Cerc’s trust in Marguliese was deep, not blind.
Khrome considered his superior officer, surprise surmounting his anger. “I’ll start on that before analyzing that Korvenite armor.” He turned and stalked away. “Hey, Lethe.”
Somehow the Kudoban had snuck in unnoticed and taken a seat at the bridge’s tech station. He returned Khrome’s greeting with a solemn nod and then craned his long neck toward Habraum. The Cerc slipped a paper-thin datapad into a slot of the Phaeton’s bridge table. He needed data for the inevitable debriefing with UComm. After alerting them of the KIF attack, they were anxious to speak with him.
“I take it the mission was a success?” said, Lethe, his triple-tenor voice tranquil as always.
“You could say that,” Habraum muttered without looking, running his fingers succinctly over the table console and bringing up field mission data on the table’s TriTran. “I gather you’ve heard?”
“Tyris allowed me to read his thoughts, so yes.”
“Huh,” Habraum murmured, slipping the datapad out of the slot. “Here to flog me, too?”
Lethe raised both hands in peace, his huge milky eyes mirthful. “I would do nothing of the sort.”
“Right, then,” Habraum stated harsher than intended. He slipped the datapad into his utility belt and leaned heavily on a chair parallel to Lethe. “Thoughts on Marguliese? Good decision? Bad?”
“Does risk outweigh return?” After the earlier quarrels, Lethe’s gentle voice was a welcome contrast.
Habraum frowned, aware of the ageless Kudoban query to weigh decisions. “Quite the opposite.”
Lethe raised his nonexistent eyebrows. “Then it obviously was not a bad decision, now was it?”
“No!” Habraum answered with more force than intended. “No, it wasn’t.”
Lethe rose to his feet, gathering up his flowing gold robes. “For nearly eight years, never have I seen you make a decision that wasn’t for Star Brigade’s benefit. You have nothing to prove to me.”
Suddenly Habraum felt a heaviness that he hadn’t noticed before lift.
Lethe walked forward and craned his neck lower at Habraum. “But never forget, as much as you want to protect your team members, sooner or later you may order some to their deaths.”
Like on Beridaas. Habraum shook his head stubbornly. “That won’t happen.”
“It will,” Lethe continued, his gentle voice hardening. “You can keep yourself as emotionally divorced from them as possible. You, their field commander, must prepare them for that possibility.”
Lethe was right, as always, and Habraum’s cartridge was empty. His failure over a year ago still left a raw, ragged hole inside him, but no longer as fresh or deep since returning to the Brigade. “It’s not the team I’d have chosen. But I’ll do my damndest to make them the best team they can be.”
Lethe’s three mouths smiled gently. He placed a long, spindly fingered hand on Habraum’s right shoulder. “I hope this didn’t feel like a flogging.”
Habraum let out a hoarse and hard laugh at the quip. “Not remotely.”
“Good. Now come.” Lethe guided him to the exit of Phaeton’s bridge. “I have several UComm officials who want to speak with you. And Atom Greystone.”
“Brilliant,” the Cerc said dryly as they neared Phaeton’s exit ramp. “I’ll take it in my Ready Room.” A quick glance revealed that the cargo hold had been cleared of survivors. A MediCorps vessel would be arriving in a few orvs to transfer them to Medcenters on Terra Sollus, bringing a lingering loose end to the forefront of Habraum’s worries. You saw that human woman amid the miner victims?
Lethe heard his thoughts and nodded. The lone human survivor, yes?
The Cerc glanced around, worried that someone might hear even their private psychic exchange. She heard and saw everything when I told some of the group about Marguliese.
The rest he left unsaid. The Kudoban’s features paled. You want me to make her forget?
Habraum hated going this type of deception and asking others to play a part. I’ll reveal who Marguliese is to my superior. But if someone talks before that—.
“Consider it done,” Lethe replied aloud and walked away as if launched, robes swirling in his wake.
The Cerc watched his departure with a sharp pang of guilt. I’m doing this for Star Brigade, he told himself. Walking to a translifter, Habraum recalled a random truism his Cerc mother might’ve pull out from her portfolio of axioms about this situation. “Anyone can believe in something. But how many beings stay evergreen to those beliefs when the spacelane gets jagged?” A lump formed in his throat just thinking of his family.
Once he reached his Ready Room Habraum changed into a clean Captain’s uniform before his holoconference. Almost an orv later, he was debriefed by a sizeable group of UComm officials from the Space Marines, PLADECO, AeroFleet and Admiral Hollienurax of JSOG via multiscreen holoconference; all respectable military officers…and Atom Greystone. Habraum laid out the details of the impromptu mission, leaving out Marguliese’s involvement. The lie almost caught in his throat, but he forced it out with his best poker face. Praise was heaped upon Habraum and his team while Greystone sulked. Habraum took no pride nor pleasure in any of it. After the joint holoconference ended, the Cerc’s remorse deepened. He almost rang up Hollienurax to confess his crimes.
No, the Cerc stayed his trembling hand, not until Star Brigade can stand on its own without me. Then he’d talk…and face the consequences. Right now, Habraum only wanted to hear his son’s voice.
“I got top marks on my xenoscience exam, Daddy!” The child’s large hazel-grey eyes sparkled with delight, even from the 3-D holoscreen on Habraum’s desk console. The boy was still at the Hollus Maddrone childcare center, a place that he practically lived in thanks to Habraum’s long work orvs.
“Good job, Jer! Now aren’t you glad that you did it early enough last night for me to help you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Jeremy groaned at the half-lecture. “When are you picking me up?”
“In about an orv, then I’ll make someone’s favorite dish,” Habraum replied with a knowing grin.
Jeremy’s face lit up. “Kurokoos wraps! You’re the best, Daddy!”
Warmth flooded the Cerc’s heart. Seeing his son happy…he knew no better sensation in the universe. Habraum had to do right by this boy. “Alright, I have to finish so I can get you sooner.”
“Bye, Daddy. Love you,” Jeremy waved feverishly at his father with a huge smile.
“Love you more,” Habraum grinned back. Reluctantly he reached over and ended the call. His eyes lingered on the screen, now with a rotating Star Brigade logo. A familiar digitized noise caught his ear.
“Hey, Maggie,” Habraum said without even looking up. After his time in Cybernarr space long ago, the way Cybernarr teleported via technology hardly fazed him. At the front of his desk the statuesque Cybernarr half-turned in his direction, still wearing the black, provocative field outfit she had on in the VanoTech mines. Habraum gazed at her more humanoid exterior—she looked too immaculate, too gorgeous by light years. But he understood why. If s
he had tried entering Union Space in her true Cybernarr form, a score or three of UComm AeroFleet command cruisers would’ve zeroed in on her location and obliterated her.
“Hello, Habraum.” Her eyes projected the mini projection of a massive space station in front of her.
The Cerc frowned, “Is that what I think it is?” He rose and rounded his desk in two strides.
“Yes. The Kedri-GUPR station entitled the Amalgam,” Marguliese said with detached simplicity.
Habraum’s jaw dropped. “How—? Do you know how much trouble I could get in if any of the Union Command officials know that you have that blueprint?”
“Do not concern yourself Habraum. The Amalgam is plagued by the oversized, self-important style of the Kedri.” Marguliese’s expression almost resembled distaste. Not surprising given the history between her race and the Kedri. “Even a newly made seedling could infiltrate that pretext for a station—.”
“I don’t care if a romrykk could take over the station, get rid of that blueprint!” Habraum waved impatiently. The image of the Amalgam winked out. She pivoted to face him.
“I apologize if my presence has caused you trouble with your colleagues and superiors.”
Habraum observed her wearily. “None needed. And I appreciate you prettying up your mug for me.”
“Yes,” Marguliese said flatly, her gold skin shimmering under the room’s halolights. “I knew my outward aesthetics would be disconcerting to others, so I altered them to look more human.”
“No doubt. Don’t worry about the others,” Habraum said, today’s arguments still fresh on his mind.
Marguliese arched an eyebrow. “Even Khromulus Threedwok?”
“Khrome agreed to work with you and will inject the masking biotech code as we planned.” Habraum regard her attentively. “Speaking of my plan, I was coming to you at the border in a few days.”
Marguliese cocked her head innocently to one side. “I found a more practical method. I procured an abandoned cargo ship in Lawless Space 205.6 light years from Union Borders and found an aperture through your borders within the less guarded Merrivel Nebula.” Her voice was monotone and robotic, but still feminine. “I planned to wait outside of the Rhyne System. However, I tracked the VanoTech distress transmission right when your ship left Hollus. So I projected the transmission to the Phaeton.”
