Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) (44 page)

Khrome dropped from the sky like a stone. Cortes clutched at her head, shrieking before she finally crumpled. But Habraum heard nothing over the ringing…felt nothing but the pain.

V’Korram was already facedown. The rest of Star Brigade and the TerraTroopers either lay spasming or motionless.

Marguliese stopped convulsing. Her eyes, blue as deep oceans, stared at nothing, lifeless. That was the last thing Habraum saw as blinding pain dragged him into the abyss…

Bright halolights stabbed like knives into Haemekk’s eyes, forcing him fully awake.

It had been orvs, days maybe, since the former Defense Minister had seen true light. His world since imprisonment now consisted of a small, dim, and dingy cell stinking of excrement—no doubt his own.

Haemekk was naked, his pelted skin bruised and bloodied. His limbs were pulled into an X formation by floating manacles, stretching the Ttaunz’s tortured frame until it felt like his arms and legs would rip off.

The cell entry slid open. Cold fingers of wind brushed over his newly shaved scalp, making him shiver. The memory of his flowing scarlet locks being shorn off, marking his criminal status, wounded Haemekk more than any current torture could have.

Despite the brutal interrogation techniques they had tried, the Ttaunz remained silent.
Except for the screams
, he remembered, and cringed.

Haemekk swallowed his shame for crying out. No Ttaunz could have withstood such torment for long, as intended when he had devised every tactic used on him. Only after they had gotten nothing out of him did his interrogators let Haemekk pass out. How much time had elapsed since was a mystery.

He forced his head from lolling, despite the blinding pain coursing through his spine. That was when he noticed a figure standing before him in the cell, partially shrouded. At first Haemekk didn’t recognize his visitor. Then the figure stepped into the light, frail beneath his lavish robes and leaning on a cane, silvery white hair unbound. A knowing smile pulled at Haemekk’s tattered lips, hatred blossoming anew in his heart. “Our Maorridus Magnus in all his diminished glory.” Because his throat was so parched, the former Defense Minister’s words came out dry and whispery.

“I figured it was time for a more direct approach to your interrogation,” Maorridus Magnus stated, his voice thin and brisk.

Haemekk barked with humorless laughter. “That disease clearly damaged your brain if you believe any torture method that
I designed
would make me talk.”

“True.” The Magnus cocked his head to one side…smiling? “I learned one thing. You sound like a dying bird when you scream.” For some reason, that tickled Haemekk. He chuckled, as did Maorridius Magnus. Before long, the two were seized by boisterous, convulsive laughter for several macroms.

When the shared mirth finally dwindled, the Magnus watched Haemekk sadly and shook his head. “Look at us.” He sounded drained and gravelly. “We’ve known each other for nearly three decades.”

Haemekk bowed his head, saddened by the memory of the Ttaunz he once called brother despite their class differences. The former Defense Minister lifted his head with a wince, seeing no trace of that brother now. “The Merchant Prince and the TDF solider from his personal guard.”

“Our rule was to be legendary, governing this world together until our dying days.” The Magnus gave a heavy sigh. “Returning the Supremacy’s splendor to Faroor.”

“We would have, Taorr the Elder,” Haemekk admitted, calling the Magnus by his true name. The constant pain of restraints and injuries made it hard to think straight. But clinging to his hatred for this misguided fool reignited a flickering strength. “If you hadn’t started siding with your idealistic fool of a son regarding the Farooqua. If you didn’t keep allowing more Union politics to influence your rule and the Ttaunz way of life.”

Maorridius Magnus’s face turned contemptuous. “So instead of rational dialogue, you betray me and try to assassinate me?
Me?
” He pounded a fist on his chest to emphasize his disgust.

“I lost count of how many times I tried reasoning with you,” Haemekk replied, his whispering retort sharp as a laserwhip, “and how many times you cast away my advice, to our species’ detriment.”

The Ttaunz known as Maorridius Magnus shook his head fervently, jostling his snow-white mane. “You were only out for your own gain, not our species’.” Bitterness flowed freely between them, stronger than Haemekk was expecting. He welcomed the candor.

The ruler of Faroor barreled onward. “And you thought that decadent halfwit Gaorr would be a better Maorridius Magnus than me or Taorr? Gaorr is
weak
. Ruled by his baser instincts, loyal to whichever friend can score him the best narcotics,” Maorridius snarled, as if pointing out the deficiencies in a flawed product instead of his son, “the Ruling Merchant Families would devour him.”

The Magnus’s disregard for his younger son was well known, even though his beloved heir Taorr had been far wilder years before his “enlightenment.” In the Magnus’s eyes, Gaorr was just a disappointing spare should anything happen to Taorr. So it fell upon Haemekk to be the father that the Magnus would not.

Perhaps that was when Haemekk’s once unshakeable love for the Magnus began to curdle? “I am well aware of Gaorr’s shortcomings,” he threw back. “Unlike you, I saw his potential. If he was made Magnus, the boy would have been more pliant than Taorr, and done his duty for the Supremacy.”

“Potential,” the Magnus spat with surprising venom. “You saw only his genetic lineage to further your treachery.” The angered rant seemed to tire Maorridius Magnus, as he leaned heavily on his cane for support. That did nothing to diminish the hatred smoldering in his eyes.

“If Gaorr wasn’t my blood, you two would share a cell. But he is not my concern right now.”

That rankled Haemekk. He attempted to scoff, but a spasm of pain brought out a violent coughing fit instead. “When has Gaorr
ever
been your concern?” he wheezed.

The candid barb gave the Magnus pause for a moment, his wizened features unreadable. He straightened up, stately and precise. “Despite the influence you were allowed to have as Defense Minister,” he continued flatly, removing any emotion from his quivering voice, “you couldn’t have deployed this sabotage alone. Name your co-conspirators and no harm will befall your family. Incomes, titles, properties, and their reputation will remain untouched. You will live out your days exiled from Union Space, unable to return.

“Say nothing, and your family’s reputation on Faroor will be ruined. Your sons, daughter, and wife lose everything.”

Haemekk winced at the latter option, knowing such a fate was worse than death for a highborn Ttaunz. He almost divulged out of spite, just to pit the Magnus into a fight against a foe he could not conquer. Nevertheless, the former Defense Minister knew his family would suffer regardless of his choice. That made his answer unavoidable. “Even if you manage to identify my backers, you will
never
reach them. But they already reached you,” he gave a trembling nod at the Magnus’s fragile frame, “and look at the results. All your power is
nothing
before theirs.”

The response staggered the Magnus as if he’d been slapped. Just as quickly, his anger faded before a sad, understanding smile. Then Haemekk knew it was truly over. And suddenly, he wanted to weep. “Defiant to the end. I expected no less.” Maorridius Magnus turned his back on Haemekk. “Defense Minister Jaoffa,” he barked to the comms systems, “status on finding Taorr the Younger?”

“We have a possible location, Lord Magnus,” Jaoffa replied evenly. “But Union Command ordered the Ttaunz Defense Force to not take any hostile action until their special forces handle the Ghebrekh first.”

“My
son
,” the Magnus interrupted the simpering new Defense Minister, “is out there in the hands of those savages. I will turn this world upside down to find him! Get it done.”

He looked over his shoulder one last time. “Farewell…old friend.” Maorridius Magnus turned his head to some unseen spectator and nodded.

Forks of pain lanced through Haemekk, setting every nerve in his body on fire.
Pain-receptor stimulation,
he recalled, writhing in agony.

At the same time, sight, hearing, and taste all fled, leaving the former Defense Minister in a world of dark and anguish.
Partial Sensory deprivation.
He couldn’t hear his own screams this time, but felt them roaring out of his parched throat. Ages seemed to pass before unconsciousness swept Haemekk away.

Early morning was always Thaomé’s favorite time of the Terra Sollan day, as Rhyne rose to dapple the majestic buildings with dazzling rays. The Korvenite sat outside a chic coffee shop in Conuropolis’s affluent Westport District. The off-white short-sleeved turtleneck sweater with matching pencil skirt and knee-high boots contrasted well with her albino purple complexion and snow-white hair. From her table she sipped a small cup of steaming naropa red tea while observing the pedestrian traffic, beings of varying species wrapped up in their own petty universes.

The Copernicus Hill neighborhood always amused Thaomé. She recalled its former incarnation: rambling farmlands surrounding countlless stone temples and sculptures honoring the false god, “Korvan.” Now, lifetimes later, crops and monoliths were replaced by palatial mansions, overpriced stores, interplanetary bistros, and veins of hovercars whizzing overhead. The only remnants from this area’s past resided in the Vanowen Museums of Planetary History and two anemic blocks of restored Korvenite sculptures.

Charmingly pale reminders
, noted Thaomé. She remained a constant on an ever-changing world—first as an outcast due to her albino status, and now as an anonymous affluent citizen. Her thoughts shifted to Faroor, and how much she’d gain once everything had fallen into place.

Thaomé closed her eyes and smiled, basking in imminent success and Rhyne’s warmth.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about naropa red. Perhaps I should try it.”

Thaomé opened her eyes and scowled.

Tomoriq Fel, in another monotonous charcoal-grey high-collared suit, had slid into the seat opposite her. His smirk was obnoxious…and ominous. Therefore, Thaomé indulged him. “
What
.”

“My pet’s economic expansion bill just passed the Chamber of Delegates,” Fel gloated.

This wasn’t news to the Korvenite. “How exciting,” Thaomé replied, less than excited.

“And your gamble?” he inquired, still too smug for her liking.

Thaomé eyed him warily. “Is
my
gamble. No need to concern yourself.”

“Fair enough.” Fel scratched his chin serenely. “Too bad the Faroor Viceroy has recovered from his ‘mysterious’ virus, and imprisoned his longtime Defense Minister for treason.”

The Korvenite didn’t know which part shocked her more, the Faroor Viceroy’s recovery or how Haemekk’s role in his illness was discovered…
or
that Fel knew any of this.  “I doubt that is true,” Thaomé replied coolly. It took every inch of restraint to keep her eyes from bulging out.

Fel reclined and smiled. “Of course, since few even knew the Viceroy was ill.” He tilted his head in a condescending way that made her want to slap him. “Is that why you haven’t heard from Haemekk since—I’m estimating yesterday, with no updates on the secret facility you had him build?”

Thaomé’s mask slipped completely.

“The funny thing about Defense Minister Haemekk,” he continued with a widening smile. “He kept all these Ttaunz and non-Ttaunz doctors away from the Viceroy. But he was so arrogant in dealing with the UComm that the military doctor who saved Maorridius slipped in right under his nose.”

The Korvenite’s jaw went slack. “You leaked this doctor’s presence through the right channels, so it reached members of the Viceroy’s family still loyal to him,” Thaomé continued, feeling as sick as she sounded.

Fel shrugged. “They contacted the doctor’s superior officer and the rest is history.” He leaned closer, no longer smiling. “Now, you can concede the game now and tell me what type of energy that facility is siphoning. Or I will find out on my own.”

Thaomé stood up curtly, yet as regally as possible given her frantic mindset, drawing stares. “This isn’t over, Tomoriq,” she hissed, and wheeled about to leave without another word.

Fel responded with a long, loud chuckle that followed her long after she strode away.

On the other side of Terra Sollus, Tharyn Eirrouma couldn’t get enough of this
water
that didn’t end. She’d witnessed similar ocean expanses on Cantalese. Still, the Korvenite was starsrtuck.

Having lived most of her life on an arid world where every drop of water cost money, Tharydane could only marvel at this “ocean.” Even the huge lakes covering the Kudoban homeworld Bal-Dobra didn’t compare.

The Korvenite teenager stood on a seaside walkway’s ledge in the country of Navarre, high up on a steep cliff side of a town called Santurce. Before her lay a deep blue sea without end, its little ripples foaming up when crashing against the Carolinian Peninsula’s southern tip. Rhyne hung overhead, a ball of radiant bullion glistening off the ever-shifting ocean wrinkles. Tharyn could make out no precise line in the horizon, just a narrow blur of fog barely separating the oceans from the heavens above.

Of course, since this
was
Terra Sollus, streams of hovercar traffic threaded the sky overhead. And Tharyn could just make out a couple of floating mansions suspended over the ocean in the distance. But that didn’t take away from this water without
end
. The sight of it all robbed Tharyn of words.

“Told ya the view was beautiful,” Sam’s throaty whisper caressed her ear.

Tharyn looked over her shoulder. Behind her, the Korvenite’s adopted mother floated just off the ground, hovering on a cushion of heated air. “That’s
soooo
much water!”

Sam giggled lovingly, floating to the ground. “C’mon, there’s much more.” She held out her hand.