by C. C. Ekeke
On the flight from Akkabe Plateau, the argument grew heated.
Khal al Abdullah was exhausted in ways he’d rarely known. Every muscle felt shaky and weak. Despite his field uniform’s supposed low-level forcefield, lukewarm water soaked every corner of his skin. It was all he could do to lean against the wall and appear casual instead of keeping himself from falling over.
But Khal had to remain engaged as Star Brigade Combat Team One’s intelligence operative. He had a voice here, but was waiting for the right moment to interject.
Around him, what remained of CT-1 stood in the helm of their command cruiser, Phaeton, split on their next move.
CT-1’s mission had been a partial success—capturing the Farooqua terrorist Ghuj’aega instead of killing him and rescuing Taorr son of Maorridius Magnus.
Now, how would CT-1 find their missing teammates?
Khal watched his teammates, equally drenched and exhausted but still debating with everything they had.
Tyris Iecen, aka Arcturus, their acting field commander, resembled a humanoid ice sculpture, although the spiky edges on his body looked slightly melted after long-term exposure to those scorching micro geysers. Beady dark blue eyes, the solitary features on Tyris’s smooth face, burned with anger. Their tech, Khrome, was the extreme opposite, short and burly with silvery armored skin. Despite their chaotic fight with Ghuj’aega, despite his near-death experience, this Thulican still wore a jolly smile on his noseless face. Khal wished sometimes for Khrome’s unshakeable optimism—sometimes.
At his side was Marguliese, a holo model made flesh with that slender and sloping physique, golden complexion, and silvery right arm. The Cybernarr stood a hairsbreadth taller than Khal himself and nearly as tall as Tyris. Her hair, usually stick-straight and pulled back tightly, spilled past her shoulders in stringy wet waves of fiery red. Khal couldn’t help gazing at such physical perfection. Even after today’s turmoil, she remained an emotionless mask, as expected from a remorseless Cybernarr killing machine.
Khal remembered when she had exhibited emotions, briefly during the Ghuj’aega fight when Habraum had jumped after Liliana into the singularity. Understandable, given their long friendship. Before that moment Khal had almost gone through with the secret kill order Captain Sam D’Urso had ordered on Marguliese. The opportunity had been beyond perfect…until Nwosu’s disappearance.
Aborting was the right call, Khal kept telling himself. Disabling Ghuj’aega had been the top priority. CT-1 needed Marguliese.
But, despite Sam’s private assurances, when would he ever get another chance like that?
Marguliese’s eyes abruptly found Khal, impaling him with cold, sapphire daggers.
His heart froze. Reining in a wave of barefaced terror, Khal hurriedly looked to the fifth member of their grouping.
Towering over everyone was V’Korram Prydyri-Ravlek, aka Jakadda, also sopping wet. He maintained an intimidating catlike grace even when motionless. His green-flecked yellow eyes took in the proceedings from behind the damp curtain of ginger locks falling over his feline features.
CT-1 had been a unit of seven. Now Habraum Nwosu, their field commander, and Liliana Cortes, their medic, were missing.
Thanks to Ghuj’aega creating a miniature black hole. Khal still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. Time travel and micro black holes. By the Maker. Granted, the same thing had happened to Khrome and he ended up fine. But Khrome was…Khrome, damn near indestructible. Cortes and Nwosu, despite their abilities, were still breakable humans. Who knew what effect that singularity had on them?
Or if they survived? Khal shivered, playing it off as cold dampness.
Then there was Specialist Byzlar from the trio of ANTs assisting Star Brigade’s field mission, also sucked into the singularity to parts unknown. A pity. Khal had liked the nerdy Aesonite.
The rookie Star Brigadier shook his wet mop of black curly hair, still reeling mentally as he concentrated on the tête-à-tête dividing CT-1.
The point of contention was simple, yet bore all kinds of ramifications: should Captain D’Urso, Star Brigade’s number 2, be informed of Nwosu’s disappearance now or later?
“We wait,” Khrome stated firmly, his mechanical-sounding voice devoid of its usual cheer.
“Sam has a right to know,” V’Korram growled back, “but would then drop everything to reach Faroor.”
“She should be informed,” Tyris agreed, rangy and spiked arms folded over his chest. “It would take her and CT-2 three days to reach Faroor from Hollus Maddrone. Yet she’s now in charge with Nwosu missing…” The Tanoeen seemed hesitant, not realizing the power he held in. In the same position, Khal would never make that mistake.
Marguliese chimed in. “We could ascertain Captain Nwosu and Dr. Cortes’s location during that time,” the Cybernarr sounded cold and efficient like a feminine automaton. “Which would render Captain D’Urso’s travel purposeless.”
Khrome turned to Khal. “Vertex, what do you think?”
And here’s my moment. The telekinetic pushed off the wall, trying not to smirk too much. He already knew what to say and how to articulate it. “If it were up to me,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d call Sam. With Nwosu missing, she is the highest-ranking Brigadier.” Offer an opinion without too much favoritism, especially given the heat his close working relationship with Sam had gotten.
“However,” he gestured at the Tanoeen before him, “you now lead CT-1, Tyris. Ultimately, it’s your call.”
All eyes turned to Tyris. That included their Ibrisian pilot, Solrao, her probing gaze a combination of red and white concentric circles. Tyris narrowed his eyes until they were dark blue slits, silently pondering his choice.
“We wait a day and a half,” he said after a long moment. “If we don’t find Captain Nwosu before that deadline, then we call Sam. If we find Captain Nwosu before then, the decision falls on him.”
Khrome’s broad, beaming smile split his face. “Good call, Ty.” He clapped his friend on the back. “You got this.”
V’Korram clearly disliked the decision. Regardless, he respected it with a terse nod to Tyris.
The Tanoeen wasted no time wielding his authority. “Khrome, stay here with Solrao. Work on the trackers to help locate our teammates. Update me every half orv.”
“Done,” the Thulican nodded.
“Marguliese,” Tyris turned to the Cybernarr, “keep in touch with the ship holding Ghuj’aega. He’s injured and restrained now, but—”
“Given his power levels,” she finished for him, “the probability he could rapidly recuperate, escape his restraints, and wreak further devastation is high.”
Khal gave her an admiring once-over. Cao, she has the best words.
“My thanks.” Tyris turned to Khal and V’Korram. “You two, let’s talk to our guests.”
V’Korram and Khal exchanged nonplussed looks but trailed Tyris into Phaeton’s passenger section. The only thing I want is out of this field uniform and a whole day’s sleep, the earthborn griped internally. But that critique wouldn’t go over well. Besides, with Nwosu and Cortes missing along with how they disappeared, Khal wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep at all. What Ghuj’aega represented terrified him down to his bones. An uninviting reminder of the cosmic other out in the universe. The Farooqua Ghebrekh terrorist had thrown Khrome backward in time—as in time travel. That was nothing to shrug at. While following Tyris, he was aware of V’Korram’s towering presence beside him, making no sound despite his size. Did his thoughts mirror Khal’s? Or did he even care?
Upon reaching the passenger section, the three Brigadiers found a spacious row of seats on either side, enough to fit at least two full CTs. Three other beings occupied two seats. Off by himself on the right-hand side sat the Kudoban diplomat named Zojje, long and lanky in body. His once flowing robes were soiled and soaked. That extraordinarily long Kudoban neck bobbed up and down, his milky eyes drooping from obvious fatigue. In Khal’s eyes he looked so much like Lethe, H
ollus Maddrone’s starbase administrator. Nonetheless, their physical differences were noticeable enough. The biggest, however, was the Kudoban’s missing left forearm. Khal still cringed as his imagination conjured how Ghuj’aega could do something so gruesome. V’Korram had placed a black cleanser sheathe over the injury from stump to elbow to clean and begin healing. With Cortes missing, any synthetic or cybernetic replacements had to wait until returning to Magnasterium.
Across the section, the two younger guests shared a seat, thoroughly melted into one another.
Khal openly guffawed. V’Korram made a rude noise. Neither reaction stymied their groping and kissing marathon.
Tyris was less subtle. “HEY.”
The couple sprang apart but remained in each other’s embrace, two beings completely different in appearance and race. The male in this pairing was Ttaunz, close to a Near-Human in features and physique. The differences came from the extremely short layer of baby blue fur covering his body, the feathery black hair, and the avian aspects on his posture. Taorr the Lesser, son of Maorridius Magnus, heir to the Viceroyship of the Union memberworld Faroor, still looked regal and self-possessed despite his grubby appearance. His clothes had been reduced to tattered rags, and his long, black hair tumbled past his shoulders in matted clumps. And the bruises all over his body spoke to severe abuse during his captivity.
His partner, Mhir’ujiid, was a Farooqua from the massive Quud tribe. She was long and skinny in build. Her squashed face had a velveteen ivory coloring from brows to upper lip, contrast to her body pelt’s goldenrod complexion. Khal still found it hard to believe she, despite appearances, was not only well-spoken but also the eldest daughter of the Quud’s High Chief.
Even harder for Khal to believe was Mhir’ujiid and Taorr being madly in love—as their respective species were at war. But he had experienced their mutual passion when reunited. No one could fake that.
Tyris gestured at the pair, his eyes hard like twin blue diamonds. “I take it this…isn’t new.”
Mhir’ujiid shook her head, that explosively neon green mohawk jostling back and forth. She looked bashful but mischievous from the attention.
Taorr was more vocal. “I love this female,” he stated dramatically, kissing Mhir’ujiid again on the mouth before continuing. “Nothing will separate us ever again.”
Except both your parents, and your species wanting to destroy each other, Khal mused. He held his tongue behind an amused sneer.
“How amazing,” Tyris snarked, sounding noticeably less than amazed. “We have more questions about Ghuj’aega.”
Both of them straightened up in preparation. Zojje stood up and approached where the Brigadiers were.
Tyris eyed Khal pointedly. The intelligence operative quickly took the hint and commenced the interrogation. “What was Ghuj’aega attempting at those micro geysers?”
Taorr glanced at his Kudoban companion before speaking. “He was trying to go back and rewrite history.”
Tyris, Khal, and V’Korram all exchanged looks. So what happened with Khrome wasn’t an aberration. Time travel…by the Maker above and beyond. Khal exhaled a sharp breath and asked the next question. “To when?”
Taorr furrowed his brow in contemplation. “None that I recall from my knowledge of Faroor’s history. Maybe thousands of years back when the Farooqua weren’t as savage.” He turned quickly to Mhir’ujiid. “No offense, love.”
“None taken,” she beamed. V’Korram rolled his eyes.
Taorr continued, “The Farooqua I saw looked much more advanced than the current species. They had advanced technology and multi-level buildings.”
Dawning recognition filled Mhir’ujiid’s face. “Then the legends were true,” she whispered. “The Farooqua were an advanced species until something regressed our progress.”
“What stopped Ghuj’aega from changing time?” V’Korram growled.
“Three beings.” Taorr ran a shaky hand through wet, matted locks. His Farooqua girlfriend gave him a squeeze around the waist, encouraging him to proceed. “They were tall and…looked like giant rodents.”
Khal closed his eyes and gingerly massaged his temples. This was too much, between losing two teammates and seeing one die only to realize he’d been thrown back in time. The earthborn’s brain sagged under the weight of this ridiculous new normal. A glance at Tyris and V’Korram revealed his attitude wasn’t singular.
The Kintarian recon began pacing, shaking his shaggy head of ginger hair. “My head hurts,” he quietly grumbled.
The response clearly wounded Taorr. “I told you they wouldn’t believe me!” he exclaimed peevishly to Mhir’ujiid and Zojje, looking younger than his twenty-four years.
“No.” Khal held up a hand to pacify his tantrum. “We know you’re not lying, it’s just…time travel and giant rodents?”
V’Korram stopped pacing. “You move things with your mind,” he growled. “Tyris is a walking ice sculpture—”
“And our teammate got thrown back four orvs in time by Ghuj’aega,” Tyris concluded, returning his attention to Taorr. “We’re willing to be open-minded. Continue.”
Taorr sucked in a deep breath and did as asked. “Those rodents somehow pushed Ghuj’aega back to the present day when he tried to attack them.”
One issue still didn’t clock with Khal. “Then why was Ghuj’aega trying to kill himself?”
Taorr shook his head, long, matted hair swishing back and forth. “He wasn’t. Not really.”
“He was trying to ascend from his physical vessel…and unify with the Zenith Point.”
V’Korram frowned. “Why.” Not a question. A snarling demand.
“So he could fully access the Zenith Point’s power,” Taorr further explained, “defeat those rodent creatures and rewrite history unhindered.”
Khal felt a chill that had nothing to do with his soaked attire. “Meaning if we kill him the wrong way or at all—”
“We end up helping him jump back in time,” Tyris finished. His beady cobalt blue eyes went saucer wide as he glanced upward, as if asking some higher power for strength. If they answered, Khal didn’t know.
Zojje, Mhir’ujiid, and Taorr all looked understandably frightened. V’Korram was looking surly as usual, replying with one brusque word. “Luminal.”
So the terrorist that Star Brigade was trying to kill might be un-killable. As if this mission couldn’t go any more sideways, Khal complained to himself.
“What happens next?” Mhir’ujiid inquired with a tremor of fear.
“First,” Tyris stated, regaining his icy composure. “We return Taorr and the Kudoban to Magnasterium, then you to Quud lands.”
Both Zojje and Mhir’ujiid nodded in agreement. Taorr, not so much. “I refuse,” he protested loudly.
“Taorr.” Mhir’ujiid gave him a sharp look.
The Ttaunz wouldn’t budge. “Wherever you go, I go.” He ran tender fingers through his lover’s green mohawk of hair. “We won’t be separated again. Not after this last week.”
Zojje looked as concerned as everyone else by Taorr’s stupidity, but remained composed as expected from a Kudoban. “That will not sit well with yours or her families, youngling.”
“I don’t care!” Taorr cried, deaf to reason.
“Taorr. Right now, your species and hers are on the precipice of civil war,” Tyris stated bluntly. “Your father’s interference disrupted Star Brigade’s mission and cost us members of CT-1. Imagine his reaction if you aren’t returned home.”
“Think of the bigger picture, Taorr,” Zojje tried again.
“Mhir’ujiid is my world,” Taorr threw back, dumbstruck with syrupy love. He draped an arm around her thin shoulders possessively. “There is no picture bigger than that.”
Lovesick, space-cased idiot, Khal fumed. This boy had worn all three Brigadiers’ patience. Taorr had no say in where he was transported, especially given the political sensitivities. Khal could see V’Korram opening his mouth angrily to articulate that.
> Thankfully, Mhir’ujiid stepped in. “They’re right.” She placed a gentle hand on Taorr’s chest. Almost immediately the Ttaunz’s defensive posture softened. His Farooqua paramour found his gaze with her other hand. “This is not the end. But I know that my family will not be so welcoming if you appear with me.”
“Especially after she ran off to help Star Brigade,” Khal chimed in, recalling her saving Cortes from one of Ghuj’aega’s goons. “Thanks again for that.”
The Farooqua girl nodded and smiled.
Taorr took a sweeping glance at the opposition around him before his watery eyes settled again on the Farooqua. “Very well. I will go back to Magnasterium.”
“Like you had a choice,” V’Korram snapped.
“I am so sorry about your friends,” Mhir’ujiid offered before Taorr could retort. Her contrition looked genuine.
Tyris nodded his spiky head in appreciation. “We will find them,” he promised.
Khal hoped the Tanoeen could back up those words. Who knew where Cortes and Nwosu could be? Maybe in the future if not the past.
“You know we have to tell UComm about the Farooqua transport hubs, right?” V’Korram growled, referring to the ancient stone structures that Farooqua used to get around the planet. The same structures which the Ghebrekh had used to terrorize Ttaunz city-states.
For a long moment, Mhir’ujiid’s eyes bulged larger than normal. The moment passed. The Farooqua wisely reined in her emotions and nodded in acceptance.
The Tanoeen then pulled Khal and V’Korram aside to the farther end of the passenger section.
“V’Korram, you and Khal go change. We will start searching for our teammates and a way to safely kill Ghuj’aega. After we return our guests to their respective…homes.” The Tanoeen wobbled for a moment and had to lean against a nearby wall to regain balance.
That surprised Khal. Tyris never got “wobbly.”
V’Korram placed a paw-like hand on Tyris’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Tyris brushed off his hand. “Just wiped.” He waved his teammates off. “Go on.”
“I’m guessing the wedding is off,” V’Korram stated when he and Khal were changing out of their soaked uniforms. They now occupied a modest-sized changing room adjacent to Phaeton’s living quarters.