Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) (33 page)

She hiccupped and uttered a quiet, “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Bogosian’s disbelief sounded like a sharp slap. “Who—”

“Senator Praece from Faroor…” Sam stated, and felt cold all over. The same Praece she just saw cavorting with Guilloche like an old friend.

Right then, the outcome for his vote struck Sam at light speed.

The meeting was startlingly short, under an orv. The vote, though, went just as Sam had feared. Seven to four against a new Korvenite homeworld, led by that premium overprimped piece of jetsam Senator Praece.

“At this time, it would be…ill-advised to allow the Korvenites their own planet,” Bogosian recited the committee’s final edict in flat, dead tones. “‘Not with Union citizens’ current mindset toward them.’”

Sam felt a pang of displeasure at already being on a shuttle back to Hollus Maddrone. Otherwise she would have indulged her growing desire to incinerate every one of these idiotic legislators.

“Jushin fucked me, Sam.” Bogosian shook his head in blank wonder. “And didn’t have the balls to do it to my face. As for Praece,” his face darkened, “whenever he spoke I only heard Guilloche’s words.”

She made a face, feeling oddly numb to the news. “Guess he wasn’t as forgiving as he let you believe.” Clearly Sakoda had plotted with Praece and Guilloche. For the Rhomeran, the opportunity to screw Bogosian over was obvious. But Praece, who knew what Guilloche promised him for his help?

“This isn’t over,” the former Chouncilor declared, fierce with resolve. “We will get the Korvenites their planet.”

Currently Sam really couldn’t see past another disappointment today, but on the surface merely nodded with a blank look.

Bogosian observed her thoughtfully. “Don’t take this too hard, Samantha. Sometimes good legislation takes years to pass.”

That made Sam snort with bitter laughter before ending the transmission. Setting her flight controls to autopilot, she powered up a holoscreen console to float before her. Linking remotely to Hollus Maddrone’s systems, she accessed several transmissions missed during her Conuropolis meeting. Work was a welcome distraction from the Korvenite debacle...and Habraum.

The next thing she knew, the Unionjack’s nav console was announcing her arrival back at Hollus.

For a few moments, Sam sat in her seat and squeezed her eyes shut, massaging the bridge of her nose. The sweet silence was welcome. Then she pulled her hair back into a tight, unfussy knot before exiting the shuttle.

Surje was waiting outside, glowing with blistering enthusiasm that she instantly found annoying. “I’m in a mood, so this better be good.”

The Voton matched her brisk pace and brought up a holoscreen with his wristcom, displaying a map detailing a section of the Conuropolis sewers. “Reyes contacted several Children of Earth moles in various companies, all through encrypted channels. We backtracked all except for one thanks to Reyes’s T-O tracker.” On the map, a bright red dot moved slowly through a serpentine maze of ducts. Behind it, a series of yellow dots were concentrated throughout certain points of the layout.

“The points are those he contacted. Most hadn’t raised any alarms. Except this one.” The Voton pressed one dot of light representing Reyes’s contacts. The image of an average-looking human female appeared.

“Europa Hanson,” Surje pointed. “A senior executive in VanoTech Industries’ nonprofit division for their Kheldoroth branch. Reyes and she have history. With each other, based on their brief conversation. After Hanson was identified, I ordered digitaps on her business and personal transmissions. It seems her function is to secretly leak info of settlements on Union colony worlds to the CoE—all low-income and mostly nonhuman with technology donated by VanoTech. That is how Hanson knows where they are and the best points of entry.”

Sam stopped in her tracks, causing Surje to put on the brakes and nearly trip over his own feet. She frowned. “Best points of entry for…”

“…Children of Earth attacks,” Surje finished. “Gavron Colony and Mekaal have several nonhuman colonies. Plus it seems the machinery was infected with toxic junk code to disrupt the functions of non-VanoTech hardware.” The Voton didn’t hide his disgust. “It’s harmless and barely noticeable unless you know what to look for. But once activated...”

Sam nodded, getting the point. “Source?”

“Several conversations Hanson had with unidentified CoE liaisons, all encrypted,” Surje said. “Addison cracked the conversations for me. The attacks on these nonhuman settlements are scheduled sometime in two to three days. The specifics haven’t been hammered out yet, but Hanson’s full transmissions are in a data packet I’ve already shot off to your UNI account.”

Sam stared at the Voton with genuine admiration. Finally, something positive. “You found this.” She smiled proudly. “You coordinate with UniPol and ISA. They can deal with Europa and her junk tech.”

Surje shook his tricrested head in disbelief, his red glow flickering. “Me? Contact those agencies?”

“Star Brigade’s focus needs to stay on where these strike teams are housed and why they are kidnapping Korvenites,” she reminded. “But still, a win’s a win. Great job.” She winked at him.

A much-needed win
, Sam thought while exiting the hangar bay. She could’ve sworn she heard Surje whisper “This is MY ROOM,” but wrote it off as background noise from hangar-bay maintenance crews.

The plan now was a quick meal with Tharyn before getting much-needed training with CT-2. Identifying CT-2 as
her
combat team still felt odd.

Instead, the moment her entrance hissed open, Sam was greeted by a bone-rattling shockwave of Xyobic rhythm & bass pounding the entire common room into submission. The song sounded utterly mindless, but its bass was hypnotic with catchy yet thin melodies, far beyond the usual overproduced, cornball melodies for mass interplanetary consumption.

And caught up in the thick of it was Tharydane gliding across the common room in black Star Brigade-logoed tee and red shorts. She was visibly enslaved to the music, her hips moving with a life of their own.

A mix of pleasure and pain played across the girl’s chalk-white face. She spread her arms wide, tossing back her curly violet hair, both feet stepping in rapid succession. Tharyn didn’t seem to dance as much as flow with the music and then move against it with a skill that made Sam’s jaw drop.

Tharyn spun about fiercely—and shrieked, finally noticing her audience.

“Music off!” the Korvenite ordered and stopped dancing. The thudding Xyobic music cut off.

“No! Don’t stop!” Sam gushed, grinning effusively. “To see you dance just made my week!”

Too late. Tharyn was stock-still, her tumble of violet curls hanging in wild tangles about her face. Sam walked up, dumping her datapad on the neighboring table. “That was…W-O-W!” She kissed Tharyn on each cheek.

“Really not a big deal,” Tharyn muttered, brushing back her mass of curly hair. “Just something I picked up on Bimnorii...”

Sam gave her a sideways look. “If you say so,” she said, slipping off her vest. Tharyn had spoken here and there about her dancing on Bimnorii, but Sam had never actually witnessed it firsthand. There was so much about this girl she didn’t know, and couldn’t wait to discover.

“How was your day?” Tharyn asked, eager to change the subject.

Sam scowled. “Ugh! Still not over.” She turned to the staircase. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

Tharyn nodded, dutifully followed her adoptive mother up the stairs.

“I swear,” Sam furiously shook her head after reaching her bedroom, “close-minded dumbfucks only want to keep Korvenites in a box and control them!” She kicked off her shoes violently, each smacking hard against the room’s far wall. She peeled off her white shirt and slacks.

Tharyn frowned, leaning against the doorframe while Sam disrobed. “Keep the Korvenites in a box? Wait… do you mean the proposal didn’t—”

“Said I don’t wanna talk about it!” Sam snapped.

The Korvenite stiffened, and quieted. Sam’s bedroom was large, its peach walls adorned with trinkets from far-off worlds and 3D Kedri art pieces. Tharydane had asked a few times about the décor, but Sam was still working on how to explain the details. Maybe she could try at dinner tonight.

With practiced swiftness, Sam stripped down to just her jewelry. As she unclasped the Cantalesian heartknot around her neck, Sam’s throat tightened. She dismissively tossed the necklace onto a floating nightstand, feeling sick.

Tharyn narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but said nothing.

“Know what?” Sam declared, pulling on dark blue cargo pants. “Let’s talk about today! And by ‘talk,’ I mean I’ll rant—and you’ll listen!

“Okay.” Tharyn nodded eagerly.

While rummaging through a revolving cabinet for a top, Sam mostly repeated what Bogosian had told her—only laden with far more obscenities.

Tharyn’s gold-black eyes widened. “I’m so sorry!” Sam knew the Korvenite was only upset for her, not the situation. She couldn’t really blame the girl there. To most Korvenites, Tharyn was a race-traitor who helped defeat Maelstrom. “What happened?”

“Things looked good at first,” Sam growled, finding a grey athletic t-shirt she liked and throwing it on, “until Ari explained that the Korvenites would be this world’s primary residents. Then the committee members pretty much pissed themselves.

“One real gem was this Nubree delegate who asked what’s to stop the Korvenites from ruining their new homeworld the same way they ruined Earth.” Sam felt a flush creep up her neck, angrier now than when Bogosian had originally told her. “Christ on a comet!
Really, bitch?
”

Tharyn guffawed. “Why would w—” the teen almost said “we,” but caught herself, “why would
they
destroy the planet that was their new home?”

“Exactly!” Sam threw up her hands in exasperation. “That’s the jackassery we’re dealing with!”

Tharyn laughed loudly, grabbing a wall for support. “Jackassery?!”

Sam yanked out the rubbery band holding her hair up. “Love that word!” With a casual shake of her head, Sam’s blonde hair tumbled down in sleek layers. “Anyway, Holluspshere for dinner—”

An inbound call chimed as they reached the door. Sam longed to ignore it, but couldn’t as acting Brigadier Executive Officer. She swore under her breath before answering, “D’Urso.”

“Captain.” Addison Raichoudry’s brisk impatience filled the room.

Sam’s nostrils flared.
Speaking of annoying.
“Addison,” she replied stiffly.

“It’s about Solomon Yin.”

Sam glanced at Tharyn, feeling an inexplicable dread. “What about Yin?”

“CoE made him yesterday,” Raichoudry stated without preamble or remorse. “He’s dead.”

Tharydane gaped. Sam’s stomach lurched, making her stagger back.
When meteors shower, they pour.
Yin, the mole Star Brigade was sharing with UniPol, killed. A long dialogue with UniPol was clearly unavoidable. Her daughter didn’t need to hear the details. “Gather the team in the War Room. I’ll be there in ten.”

Addison wasn’t done. “Told you sending Yin back out was a bad idea.” Then her transmission cut out.

Sam was still too dumbstruck to digest Addison’s know-it-all obnoxiousness. She turned to a stunned Tharydane. “Look, kid, I gotta—”

“I know.” The Korvenite nodded understandingly, hiding her disappointment as best as she could. Seeing this knifed through Sam’s heart more than Habraum’s “friendship” talk.

“Hey,” she murmured hoarsely, taking Tharyn’s face in her hands. “I’m really sorry this happens so much.”

“It’s okay—” Tharyn began. Sam cut her off with a brisk hand chop.

“No, it’s not. I’ll make it up to you. Day after tomorrow, you and I will head off base.”

“Really?” Tharyn brightened.

“Promise.” Sam nodded with a lopsided grin. This wonderful girl deserved so much more.

Now Tharyn was beaming as blissfully as when she was dancing earlier.

“There are some leftovers in the fridge from last night.” Sam grudgingly headed for the door, only to spin round again, recalling something. “Ooh. Call Jeremy at the Hoangs’ tomorrow. He’ll have quite a story for ya!”

Before the stunned Korvenite could frame a reply, Sam had already dashed out the door.

“Son of Maorridius Magnus.” Taorr heard his name and pushed up to a kneeling position, albeit slowly. The latest beating from Ghuj’aega’s underlings had left his back throbbing. He didn’t know what region of Faroor they had transported to, though it felt much warmer and humid than the previous places.

Almost two days had passed since he’d last seen Zojje. Taorr and the Kudoban had devised a scheme during that time to dismantle the Ghebrekh tribe from within. Zojje would use telepathy to subtly turn Ghuj’aega’s followers against him. Since neither the TDF nor UComm would probably find them, this was their only hope at escaping.

Taorr began worrying for Zojje’s safety, mainly since he had bullied the Kudoban into helping. But Taorr reminded himself that no matter what outcome, the Ghebrekh would never harm Zojje.

Ghuj’aega himself entered his tent, flanked by a male and female soldier. Both were tattooed in red and yellow symbols, armed with archaic but vicious-looking weaponry. Their bodies were rail-thin but packed with wiry muscle—all traces of fat scorched away. The female had something wrapped in cloth tucked under her arm. Dark, runny fluids spilled in rapid drops from the package. Food from a fresh kill, maybe? The Ghebrekh’s violet eyes glittered as he stated, “Your little scheme failed.”

Taorr’s weary eyes widened. How could Ghuj’aega have known? The Ttaunz was so tired, too tired to feign ignorance, but lied anyway. “Wha-What do you mean—”

Ghuj’aega continued as if the Ttaunz hadn’t even spoken, “Body language is my species’s primary dialect.” He looked mildly insulted. “Moreover, I can see someone’s past just by glancing at them, in addition to possible roads of my own future.”

The Ghebrekh’s angular, white tattoos pulsed brightly, causing Taorr to squint. Ghuj’aega shook his head mockingly. “You really thought you and your Kudoban would get away with this.”