Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) (46 page)

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 she 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
.”

She had a point. Habraum scratched the back of his head. “Thanks for the assist at the asteroid field.”

“You requested my assistance; hence I am at your disposal.” Marguliese stared up at Habraum with an inscrutable half-smirk, which was as animated as her face had ever been.

The Ready Room door hissed open. Sam barged in without introduction, her blond hair in a lank, loose ponytail. She had shed her field outfit for a magnezip hoodie and matching sweat pants of velvet dark green kurthon fabric. “Habraum we—.” She stopped and stared wide-eyed at the Cybernarr.

Habraum turned toward Sam. “Commander.” Marguliese’s right eye flashed like a jagged cerulean starburst as her gaze met Sam’s. Habraum didn’t miss the glacial look of clear dislike between the two.

Sam’s face stilled, giving away nothing as she watched the statuesque Cybernarr. “I need to speak with my superior officer.
Alone.
” Her low, husky voice was flat and adamant.

Marguliese made no movement except with her eyes, two hard chips of deep azure studying Sam like an insect begging for a hard stomp. The Holy Twins only knew how Sam might’ve replied if Habraum didn’t intervene. “Maggie.”

The Cybernarr nodded curtly and strode out of the room with brisk, regal strides.

Once the door hissed close behind her, Habraum’s eyes settled back on his subordinate, and Sam’s on him. “
Maggie?”
she spat the name out as it were poisoned water. “You nicknamed it?”

Habraum ignored the tantrum. “You came to talk? Talk. Or are you here to hit me again?”

Sam’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t erupt…yet. “Heard you convinced Khrome. Now what? Or did you have a plan when you recruited that…
automaton
?” She was obviously still angry. But knowing Sam as well as he did, her wrath was no longer a bare-knuckled punch swinging at him like earlier. It seared beneath the surface of her impassive façade, which worried Habraum even more.

He sighed and responded with chilled courtesy. “Khrome will inject a cloaking code into Marguliese as a precaution to shield her from Kedri or Thulican trackers. After Star Brigade is mission ready, I’ll inform Admiral Hollienurax himself about her. That way I control the narrative.”

Sam regarded him through disbelieving russet-brown eyes. “Are. You.
Shitting
me?”

“No greybrick, not about this.” Habraum shook his head. Today’s mêlées on and off the battlefield had drained him. “You didn’t react this way when I told you I stayed in contact with Marguliese.”

“You weren’t inviting a Cybernarr into the Brigade,” Sam uttered each word with exaggerated calm.

Another secret he’d confided in Sam instead of Jen, still tasting like ashes in his mouth. “It’s temporary. And I wouldn’t have even gone this route if these rookies weren’t so green,” Habraum said.

“Even after the asteroid mines, you
still
don’t believe in these kids?”

“Yes, the talent and potential is there,” the Cerc admitted readily, “but we got lucky today.”

Sam glanced away from that obvious truth. “What can ‘Maggie’ do that you, Honaa and I can’t?”

“She trains the Brigadiers in a short sum of time,” he stated, trying to make her understand, “while you, Honaa and I focus on dealing with the KIF.”

Sam looked down to hide the unhappiness cracking through her visage. “There’s no scenario where you won’t end up in a megamax prison colony for treason at the ass end of the galaxy.”

“I am well aware,” Habraum nodded with equal displeasure. If his choice prevented another Beridaas then he’d accept that fate. “At least I’ll have tried every option to whip the Brigade into shape.”

She looked up, her eyes filled with that slow-burning anger…or was it passion? “And Jeremy?”

Habraum grimaced. Again, he’d put the needs of Star Brigade before his son.
One parent dead and another to jail?
The shame of that fate for his son squeezed the air from the Cerc’s chest.

When her question met silence, Sam’s smile cut like a knife. “Exactly. If you’re going to do something wrong, have the brains to do it right. If not, just get someone who knows how.”

Habraum didn’t like that sneer any more than her tone.  “What. Did. You. Do?”

Sam shrugged blithely. “I made sure no one outside of Star Brigade learns what ‘Maggie’ really is.”

Habraum bit on his lower lip, fury scorching through him. “Not your call. Undo whatever you did.”

Sam folded both arms over her chest smugly. “I’ll file that request under ‘no fucking way.’”

Habraum, barely choking back outrage, got in Sam’s face, dwarfing her by nearly a foot. “So it’s insubordination, then?” He let the threat linger in the air, a loaded pulse pistol he wasn’t afraid to use.

His piercing glower seemed to daze Sam more than his words. She blinked rapidly and breathed deep to regain her resolve. “It’s me saving your ass, you stupid
space jockey
!”

“How? By saddling me with a lie that could blow up in our faces?”

“Not if we stick to the story,” Sam threw back casually. “You formed a relationship with a cybernetics microcorp on the planet Lelsoiim when you visited the Libratta Systems during your sabbatical. Marguliese is one of their combat synthorg prototypes. All the fake company details are foolproof to any prying eyes. When she leaves, we can explain it away to the prototype not working out.”

Habraum stared back, speechless. Sam’s treks into this morally grey area displeased him more than she could know. The unapologetic attitude for her actions, rationalizing away any immoral aspects with such disturbing matter-of-factness. This remnant of Sam’s pre-Star Brigade life remained something she seemed unable, or in Habraum’s belief, unwilling to fully renounce.

“How did you—?” he began to ask, but Sam put up a silencing hand.

“We’re a team,” she said, her visage once again a mask that told no tales. “Your job is to lead, which means my job is clear the way so you can.”

“Your job is to follow my orders,” Habraum threw back tersely, “even the ones you dislike.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “I know that.”

“Do you? Or will I be forced out like Enothor was over the next decision you don’t agree with?”

That made Sam’s features crumple with hurt. Habraum immediately regretted the sally, but not enough to forgive her going behind his back like she’d done with their previous superiors.

They glared at each other, standing too close, the vitriol between them too intense. He wanted to grab Sam and shake her, scream until his words pierced her thick skull. He just wanted to…

You know what you want, a voice chided. That’s why you couldn’t leave her for your own wife.

“Captain Nwosu.”

Lethe’s voice jerked him out of such thinking, thankfully. Habraum would have time for shame later. “Go ahead,” he replied in his most formal voice.

“There’s a…situation in the Command Center.”

Now what?
Habraum eyed Sam inquisitively. She shrugged. Together they left his Ready Room and stepped onto the Command Center’s second tier, where someone was pontificating in accented Standard.

“You of the Union gave us no choice but to fight for our race’s very survival. The Korvenites are languishing in rancid internment camps with no hope and no future.”

The Command Center was packed with Brigade and station officials. On the far side of the second tier stood Lethe, Atom Greystone and now Marguliese as she walked up to join Habraum. He spied Honaa on the first tier. The Rothorid’s diamond-shaped ginger eyes were bulging. Whoever spoke on the main viewscreen had rendered everyone mute with shock.

“The so-called intellectual races governing this Union are blinded by human lies. Those lies have reduced my race to a fraction of its size, robbed us of our homeworld Sollus. No longer.”

“That voice.” Habraum turned to the Command Center’s main viewscreen, and almost dropped to his knees in shock. Marguliese was the only being who stayed neutral as she watched the viewscreen.

On it was a Korvenite male; tall and supple with curly violet mane tumbling past his shoulders. His golden eyes brimmed with power—almost as if he spoke to each sentient directly.

“It is Korvan’s decree that my species reclaim our world from humans and any race that supports them. And the decree of Korvan is the deed of Maelstrom.”

“Maelstrom, leader of the Korvenite Independence Front,” Marguliese said quietly. “Curious, all records indicate his demise over two years ago.”

Habraum angrily sucked on his teeth.
Guess I’m not picking up Jeremy in an orv after all.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to the amazing editors of my book’s first edition; Crazy Mike, Angela, Rachel (twice) who helped rein in my crazier ideas and helped me hone in more on my characters. Lots of thanks to Joseph, Jaime, Evin, and Natalia for beta reading. Stephanie, thank you for that final proofreading polish. Special thanks to John Zaozirny for your honest feedback and for bringing the idea of eBook publishing to my attention. To Matt Sherwood, for making my ugly Star Brigade logo look pretty, to Derek Murphy for giving my book cover a much needed makeover. And a big thanks of course my mom and older sisters, without you I would never have been able to dream big.

Lexicon

A.N.T. –
The PLADECO
Aerial, Terrestrial & Nautical Infantry.

Albrit
– Albion British

Càochutiya –
Earthborn swearword for
dumb fuck
, a fusion of Mandarin and Hindi.

Cerc –
Slang term for Cercidalean.

Crimsonborn
– a term that describes humans native to the planet Cercidale.