Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) (35 page)

“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. “In 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.”

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 studied 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.”

“Moreover,” Marguliese added, her voice flat and mechanized, “the Ttaunz continuously use Ghuj’aega and his Ghebrekh as an excuse to push the Farooqua off their lands.”

Fiyan made an impatient clicking sound. “Of course you’d back his play, Marguliese,” the sergeant sniped. “How are your actions any different from how the Ttaunz treat the Farooqua?”

Before Habraum could reply, Mhir’ujiid chimed in, “Before the TDF captured me, I witnessed a small village of Farooqua they laid waste to, all innocents. This was not the first time and it won’t be the last. Any surviving Farooqua that weren’t part of the Ghebrekh before will clamor to join now.”

Fiyan’s expression fell. “But that doesn’t mean we should—”

“But nothing,” Habraum interrupted, his voice sharp. “Our superiors made Star Brigade lead on this mission, Fiyan. You don’t like that, we’ll return to Thasque and get someone who can follow orders.”

The Nnaxan’s cartridge was empty. “You’re right.” She nodded in stiff consent, her craniowhisks rigid. “We’ll do things your way. But if your way doesn’t work, we should reconsider my suggestion.”

Habraum didn’t miss the warning in those words.
Why is it always a pissing match with every external division?
The proximity alarms sounded at that moment, a welcome respite.

He, Marguliese, and Fiyan stood up. The other Brigadiers snapped to attention from whatever they had been doing. Khal bolted to his comm station and fired up its corresponding console.

Mhir’ujiid, startled by the alarm and everyone’s sudden movements, turned and stared out the transport’s viewscreen ahead. Habraum couldn’t help but smile at her wonder, knowing exactly why.

Before them lay a measureless stretch of stony grey and azure earth pocked with deep sinkholes, numerous depressions that dropped sharply for several hundred miles into the earth. Some boasted circumferences wider than some small city-states. In fact, several of these sinkholes provided homes for the Gajj tribe within the jagged grey folds of their cliff faces. A sharp-edged gorge lay ahead of that, vast in size and length. The gigantic chasm cut a winding swath across the terrain face, connecting several larger sinkholes like a snaking ribbon strung through a group of massive beads. The Union at large knew this natural marvel as Curving Rock Canyon.

But to the Farooqua Tribal Nations, this was Gajj territory. Habraum took in the rocky vista and whistled. He hadn’t had time to explore it on prior trips to Faroor. The Cerc made a mental note to return on a holiday and explore Curving Rock with Jeremy.

“We’re here,” V’Korram growled brusquely.

Habraum turned to a still-gaping Mhir’ujiid. She’d probably never seen Curving Rock from this high up. Despite her consent, the Cerc couldn’t shake his nagging doubts. “Sure about this?” he asked quietly.

The Farooqua nodded earnestly at him. “You saved me from the Ttaunz. It’s the least I can do, Nwosu. Besides, my tribe is on good terms with the Gajj.”

Marguliese stepped forward. “There are nano-tracker probes in your clothing so we can detect you. And no, they cannot be found conventionally,” she added as the Farooqua gaped at her attire in shock.

“But your vessel,” Mhir’ujiid replied worriedly, trembling all over. “The Gajj will see—”