Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) (58 page)

Marguliese and Khrome halted. Habraum lowered his arm. Liliana opened her eyes to see her handiwork, looking even more panicked.

Khrome gaped. “You felt the Ghebrekh with that—”

“Sonar thing? Yeah.” Liliana rose. Everyone was impressed and relieved, except Habraum.

V’Korram scanned behind the geyser where Liliana stood. “Transport pillar.”

“Marguliese, destroy it. Quietly,” ordered Habraum, still glaring at the medic. The Cybernarr flitted around the geyser as Liliana met the Cerc’s anger with a trembling look that might have earned his sympathy under different circumstances.
She knew about the attack
. Clearly, Cortes had seen this in her vision from last night. Yet she put herself in ridiculous danger by saying nothing.

Habraum swallowed his fury—barely.
Not now.
The mission took priority. “You okay?” he almost snarled out the inquiry.

Liliana offered a scared nod, clearly understanding she had some explaining to do later. Habraum glanced skyward. Herope’s sunshine was nearly cancelled out before the remorseless cold light of Qos, Faroor’s pale moon now a second sun.
Just like in last night’s vision
.

The Cybernarr reappeared and nodded; the pillar had been destroyed. Habraum signaled his team to move. Within macroms, Star Brigade came upon a wall of jagged spires all sharpened and shiny from continual water spray. From what Habraum saw through the wall’s crevices, this jagged divider wrapped around a wide depression containing the source of the booming drums from the distance.

“Seven Ghebrekh guarding around the clearing,” Khrome murmured from the skies, which was now blanketed by Qos’s light.

Habraum frowned.
What is going on?
The Cerc ignored his own curiosity, tersely gesturing Marguliese and V’Korram forward. The duo sped around the encircling wall on opposing sides.

Within macroms, the Kintarian and the Cybernarr returned, having made quick work of the Ghebrekh.

“Clear,” Marguliese murmured. The team moved into place behind the wall’s pinnacles. Steep crevices between the spires revealed a crater-like expanse of flat, cracked earth packed with not just obsidian-skinned Ghebrekh. Sinkhole-dwelling Gajj, arctic Ajjadr, N’noa grasslanders, Quud mountaineers, and other tribes stood in unified allegiance with the splinter tribe.

All seemed indifferent to the shower and steam of the surrounding geysers. There had to be over a hundred bulging-eyed Farooqua present. Only the Ghebrekh were visibly armed with weapons, though.

The source of the drumbeats also revealed itself beyond the rocks. A massive Ghebrekh, heavily tattooed and generally unpleasant in appearance, slammed his hands rhythmically on a cylindrical drum of wood and animal hide. His back was against a colossal cone geyser—the largest that Habraum had seen. All Farooqua present encircled the stone, which was adorned with the oddest component of the scene thus far.

“What
.
The
. HELL?
” Liliana breathed across the comms, stealing the words from the Cerc’s mouth.

Habraum saw Ghuj’aega, bound to the cone geyser, half-submerged in a circle of steaming water around the rock formation. The silvery restraints holding him looked like metal under the brilliantly white moonlight from above. Two obsidian-skinned Ghebrekh guards stood before the terrorist hefting pronged spears.
Is Ghuj’aega sacrificing himself...to the Zenith Point?
For what bigger purpose, Habraum couldn’t figure. Ghuj’aega’s death would leave the Ghebrekh leaderless.

The terrorist leader looked unafraid. In fact, his expression was so blank, so still, that if he didn’t turn his head occasionally to observe his followers, Habraum might not have known he was alive.

“Looks like...he’s being sacrificed by his own,” Fiyan deducted, just as puzzled as the rest of the group.

The Cerc could almost see V’Korram’s surliness as he growled. “Isn’t that what we want?”

Habraum considered this for a moment. “We want Ghuj’aega dead on our
own
terms. His own nutters killing him won’t benefit us.” He crept forward. “Assume positions.”

Star Brigade and the TerraTroopers moved into position. Liliana, Fiyan, and Byzlar took high ground posts in a triangle formation around the rim, each ideal for sniper shots. Three geysers erupted nearby, one after the other, showering Star Brigade with steaming droplets.

Tyris and V’Korram went next, taking opposing sides of the wide rim. The Farooqua waited silently around the geyser. The drumbeats grew louder still, and faster. Khrome floated high above, concealed by roiling billows of steam. Khal, Habraum, and Marguliese stood near Liliana’s spot along the wall, facing Ghuj’aega directly.

“Got eyes on Taorr and Zojje,” Khal muttered. “
Tattshi
, the kid looks like he’s been hit by a hovertram. Twice!”

Habraum shuddered in agreement. Both hostages, kneeling to Ghuj’aega’s right, looked terrible.

Taorr, drenched and sporting the bruises of clear abuse, also looked corpse-like from malnourishment. But his gaze haunted Habraum the most. The Ttaunz stared ahead, barely aware of what was happening around him. Habraum knew all too well the gaze of someone broken by captivity. Eight years ago that had been him, when held captive during the Ferronos Sector War.

Taorr’s Kudoban companion appeared just as haggard, his robes utterly soiled. But he took in his surroundings calmly, cradling a stump that used to be his left arm. Habraum sighed in relief, but with modest misgivings. On one hand, both hostages were alive, meaning he got to keep his promise to Lethe. Yet protecting two hostages subtracted an operative from taking down Ghuj’aega. Luckily, one of CT-1’s combat strategy from last night accounted for this.

“Vertex,” Habraum asked, “grab those two from here?”

Khal’s insulted look clearly meant, “Yes.”

“Crescendo, target Ghuj’aega.” Liliana nodded, crouched with fingers pointed gun-like.

“Alright.” Habraum aimed at Ghuj’aega, drawing his left arm back while keeping his right pointed forward like an archer.

“On my mark...” he addressed the group over the comm channel, both fists glowing crimson with biokinetic force.

Taorr knew he wasn’t ready to die, but wanted this horrid situation to be over.

He had been out in the Akkabe Plateau for over an orv, continuously sprayed with near scalding geyser water as more Farooqua from the different tribes arrived. Taorr bit back the prickling discomfort of cracked earth digging into his bare knees.

The skies had been bright pale pink earlier, but now all the color had drained away from the sky, Qos its dazzling centerpiece. The phenomenon was the only thing keeping Taorr together currently, especially since he had no interest in the sight behind him.

Ghuj’aega was bound in metal chains to the massive, dormant cone geyser behind them. Two hulking Ghebrekh flanked either side, armed with sharp pike weapons. Their orders were to kill Ghuj’aega as part of a Zenith Point sacrifice then skewer Zojje and Taorr. Purg’iasha, Ghuj’aega’s second-in-command, stood before Taorr and Zojje, signing enthusiastically to the gathering. By the nods, pumping fists, and contemptuous looks in his direction, Taorr knew these misguided Farooqua were being fed some false rhetoric about how the sacrifice would save them.

Taorr knew all these defectors were just cannon fodder for whatever Ghuj’aega’s true endgame was. But he had no way of communicating this. A sudden movement drew the Ttaunz from his misery.

The guards positioned on either side of the geyser had stood as still as statues for over an orv, and were finally moving. Both aimed their pikes at either side of Ghuj’aega, who looked ahead with a grim sneer. The crowd of Farooqua let out a collective gasp.

Taorr.
Zojje’s voice entered Taorr’s head, irksomely calm.
We will be okay.

Taorr side-eyed his friend. They
were
going to die. No Kudoban platitudes could stop that. Zojje ignored the Ttaunz’s petulance. Malnourished or not, all three of his mouths smiled. Taorr was beginning to wonder when captivity had broken Zojje’s brain.

The two Ghebrekh guards hefted their pikes high, about to strike their leader. Ghuj’aega stared ahead fearlessly, violet eyes burning.

I’m fine, child,
he replied, amused.
 Just stay close.

Tension hung thick in the already muggy air. Taorr winced, his knees screaming while he turned toward the Kudoban. “Why?” he whispered.

Two blinding energy blasts answered his question. A thick red beam and a shockwave of radiant rings streaked forward from beyond this clearing, striking Ghuj’aega so hard he was drilled
through
the cone geyser. The rock formation imploded instantly in a cascade of stony rubble and broiling water.

The terrorist’s ropy-thin body hit the far side of the rim wall with a smack. He sank to the cracked earth and didn’t move.

Then everything became chaos.

Farooqua screamed incoherently, pelt-covered bodies tripping over each other as they tried to flee. The Ghebrekh in the crowd quickly set aside their surprise to find the attacks’ source.

Taorr gaped at Ghuj’aega’s unmoving body. Was he dead?
One could hope.

Purg’iasha turned to flee...then tripped, courtesy of Zojje’s foot. “He cut off my arm,” the Kudoban calmly explained.

Taorr gaped at his friend, right before Purg’iasha got trampled by a mob of fear-crazed Farooqua.

And those very Farooqua stampeded too close. Taorr’s heart thudded. He and Zojje would be next.

Zojje grabbed the Ttaunz’s shoulder, keeping him from standing. “We’ll be fine.”

Finally, Taorr exploded, “HOW do you know that? And what was that energy?!”

Above the cacophony, he caught a low drone growing louder, closer. Taorr looked up...and blanched. Something glinting in the heavens plunged toward the ground.
A bomb?

Before he could wonder further, Taorr got yanked backwards. He flailed about against the invisible, powerful force around his waist jerking him away from the tumble of Farooqua…and Ghuj’aega.

Same with Zojje, who had gone limp.

The drone above became a roar. The shiny bomb, closer now, actually had arms and a head.
A mechanoid?
Taorr gawked.

Too much happened too quickly, scrambling the Ttaunz’s brain. He and Zojje now soared straight for the rim wall behind them. Taorr closed his eyes, hoping this would end…until he felt actual hands catch him.

“I have Zojje,” a female stated from Taorr’s right, her voice oddly mechanized like some automaton.

The Ttaunz whipped his head about to see Zojje indeed caught. The Kudoban’s personal savior was a statuesque, golden humanoid.

Taorr gaped inappropriately. Her long, scarlet hair and sculpted features were dripping wet from the constant geyser spray. The shiny gunmetal grey of her entire right arm glistened in the mist. She was gorgeous, but Taorr knew she couldn’t be fully humanoid.

Taorr noticed a third human standing nearby, but he was too astounded to get a good look at him.

The young Ttaunz was now behind the rim wall encircling Akkabe Plateau’s clearing, looking down at the chaos. Ghebrekh warriors were fighting through the crowd, moving nearer by the moment. Abruptly, his panic returned. Taorr turned to Zojje. His red-haired rescuer placed him down, and Zojje nodded gratefully. She turned in Taorr’s direction, and the Ttaunz almost drowned in the unending depth of her sapphire-blue eyes. He shuddered and looked away.

Pulse-rifle fire ripped through the clearing, but did not cancel out the missile’s agonizingly loud drone as it plunged from the heavens.

“You two are safe,” assured the human who caught Taorr. He towered over the Ttaunz, his brogue sounding Cercidalean. “Stay behind this rim and we’ll handle the rest.”

The Ttaunz finally got a good look at his rescuer, gazing up at a bald, broad-shouldered Cerc dressed in absurd white, green, and gold body armor. UComm Special Forces, maybe? Or just a bounty hunter with fashion issues? And why did he look so familiar?

The tall human ordered, “Khrome, STRIKE!”

On cue, the mechanoid thing plowed down through the geyser debris—a silver bullet of devastation pulverizing the remnants into spurts of muddy paste. Taorr’s whole world shook and possibly jumped a few inches. For a moment, everything in the clearing slowed to a crawl—chunks of ruined earth flying in all directions, Farooqua knocked off their feet by the shockwave...

While the Farooqua dropped to the ground, Taorr watched the rocky debris freeze in midair.

“Khrome, move clear,” ordered the Cerc.

The mechanoid jetted out of the mushy rubble in one piece. Though stained with mud, it appeared stout and silvery, round golden eyes looking about. The landing left a small crater in the ground—and Taorr in awe.

As it hovered above the fray grinning, Taorr realized “it” was a male Thulican. He had never met a Thulican before.

Taorr’s eye caught the other human nearby. He stood noticeably shorter than the Cerc—with a wet mop of black hair and some colorful light armor. The human reached out his hands at the clearing, face strained as if hoisting heavy weights.

Many of the fallen Farooqua were still alive, rising wearily to their feet, unaware of the stony chunks hanging in the air around them.

Then this mop-haired human threw his arms apart swift and viciously.

At the same time, the floating rocks dashed outward into the Farooqua. Bones shattered, flesh shredded, lives ended.

The macabre display dazed Taorr. This human threw rocks just by waving his hands. He was a telekinetic.
Where did this team come from?
As soon as the flying debris did its damage, the Cercidalean was barking orders left and right.

“Vertex, protect Taorr and Zojje,” he said to the telekinetic, striking an imposing figure. “Jakadda, Arcturus, you’re cleanup. Fiyan and Byzlar, cover them. Khrome, has Ghuj’aega moved?”

Taorr watched the Thulican float above the battle and turn to Ghuj’aega’s fallen form. “Not a muscle,” Khrome answered over comms.

The Cerc aimed into the rim’s clearing with both fists, despite lacking weaponry. When his fists began glowing bright red, Taorr realized he
was
the weapon.