by C. C. Ekeke
Sam flew low to the ground and tossed a roiling fireball at her attackers.
Three operatives peppered the first fireball with blaster fire, causing an eruption.
Temporarily blinded, they never saw the second fireball—until too late.
The fiery blast detonated on contact. All three operatives went flying, armorweave uniforms ablaze. Sam’s blood sang from the rush of battle. She laughed like a space-crazed being.
Before long, the flight bay packed with CoE was reduced to ten operatives, either wounded or cowering among their maimed and dead comrades.
Sam pointed an open hand and torched a shuttle’s underside. Two CoE engineers ran screaming from underneath, yellow flames licking hungrily at their bodies. They blindly ran right into Bevrolor’s line of fire blast and were mowed down viciously.
The mission became a cleanup when Sam spotted two operatives sneaking into a hidden tunnel nearby.
“We got runners!” Sam called out on CT-2’s com channel. She loved chasing runners. “I’m on ‘em.” Before anyone could protest, she veered upward and zoomed off in pursuit.
The route the operatives had chosen was windy and narrow, not allowing Sam much maneuvering room. She kept her guard up in case of a sneak attack.
Soon, the path dumped her into a lab room that resembled a small, run-down Medcenter. The two operatives were waiting, pulse pistols aimed at her.
Sam replied cat-quick, waving her arm back with a scorching whip of blue flame, lighting up the dim laboratory. Both operatives shrieked and fell. One took the brunt, writhing on the floor as her face and arms boiled. Her counterpart dropped to his knees, curly mane singed off, cradling a smoking arm.
With those operatives disabled, Sam took in this Medcenter. And the blood drained from her face. She didn’t have to guess the horrors this room had seen during Alorum’s Light’s overlong tenure. And by the stomach-churning sight that greeted her, the Children of Earth had restarted those horrors.
Five Korvenites lay slumped in spherical containers in the room’s center. Each prisoner looked untouched by physical violence, but their completely white eyes indicated death.
More experiments, Sam gasped, just like in the other CoE facilities Star Brigade had breached. The difference here was how these Korvenites each shared a cage with a non-Korvenite. A dead Galdorian lay in one cage, eyestalks limp and the eyeballs melted away. A Kintarian lay in another, blood seeping from its ears and mouth. Whatever the CoE was planning now involved other non-human species. Some virus? Bioterrorism wasn’t new territory for the Children of Earth. The Korvenite boy in the fifth cage was maybe a few years younger than Tharyn. His lifeless, milky eyes knifed through Sam’s heart.
“Jeezus.” She tapped on her wristcom. “Stronghold. We done up there?”
“Correct,” the Ubruqite answered. “You done down there?”
“No.” She moved closer to the cages, noticing green veins standing out on each Korvenite’s torso and arms. “Come here. Now.”
“More operatives?”
Looking at these bodies, Sam saw only Tharydane. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I found the Korvenites.”
“You won’t stop us, race traitor.” The defiant voice turned Sam around. The CoE operative was on his knees laughing, despite his agony. His partner lay motionless. Beneath the severe burns, he looked of Spanish descent.
“Our experiments succeeded. We’re one step closer to extinguishing the Korvenites forever.”
Sam balled up her fists, igniting them in white-hot flame. “Not if I can help it.”
“You won’t, bitch.” To her surprise, the operative lurched to his feet and launched himself at her.
Sam clenched her jaw, raising her flaming fists to attack.
VVMP. Sam’s head whipped around.
Addison stood behind her with one arm raised, golden gauntlet aimed at Sam’s chest. The field commander’s breath caught in her throat. Separated from CT-2 and caught offguard, Sam made an easy target.
She whirled around to counterattack as Addison’s blaster flashed.
Two bolts streaked over Sam’s shoulder—drilling the CoE operative behind her.
He shuddered twice, struck in the head and stomach, before collapsing.
Sam gaped at the corpse, remembering to breathe. Could’ve been me, if she wanted. She turned to Addison. “Thanks.”
Raichoudry lowered her arm with a smug sort of nod. “Watch your back, Heatstroke.”
A chill slithered down Sam’s spine. “Will do, Freerunner.”
Chapter 11
This meeting refused to end, much to Tomoriq’s irritation. The gathering was essential, enough singsong glad-handing, supplication, and hyperbolic praise slung back and forth to drive any non-Ttaunz insane.
Fel’s operative, Union Senator Praece son of Proejer, was a mahatma at this kind of networking.
Praece stood behind the desk in his small but lavish Terra Sollus office. His viewport displayed stretches of Faroor cityscapes instead of Conuropolis. His long hair was braided in several loops rounding his head. Hairstyle notwithstanding, Praece looked every bit the senator in high-collared formal robes made of ivory and gold Pallanorian silk.
“Thank the Maker you have returned,” Praece cried again, hands raised in near-pious exultation. “Finally, a true leader will govern Faroor!”
The senator was sucking up to the 3D holo of the Maorridius Magnus. Faroor’s viceroy had his back to Fel, but his frail body was obvious beneath those velvety ebony robes.
Flanking Praece were two fellow Union senators from Faroor. Both older politicians projected life-sized 3D holos from their offices within Conuropolis’s Bicameral Hall. Senator Toniem daughter of Hauriq, a willowy Ttaunz with cropped red hair wearing somber bronze robes, stood at Praece’s left. Jaice son of Kuyver, aged and luxuriantly garbed, stood right. Both senators were in clear competition with Praece over who could kiss the Magnus’s ass most.
Fel stood in the far back of Praece’s office. Except Fel again wasn’t here in the flesh. His latest disguise was a holo-imitation of Praece’s chief aide, Xaja. Every aspect of the avatar mimicked the Voton’s appearance—hairless, glowing deep green skin with two rounded crests on the head and female. The holo avatar was so convincing, not even Praece could tell Tomoriq from the real Xaja.
“I agree with young Praece,” Toniem chimed in, rubbing her hands together. “Seeing you back in charge just feels right, Maorridius Magnus.”
“Good to be back, Senators,” the Magnus replied, sounding robust despite his frailties. “My sons will be wondrous future leaders of our memberworld. But their father still has much to teach them.”
“The Ghebrekh decimated, Ghuj’aega in custody, and Taorr rescued,” Praece one-upped his fellow senator enthusiastically. “Now that is what we call a return to power!”
Maorridius Magnus nodded as the senators all applauded him for actions he had no part of. Even though his back was to Fel, the Ttaunz leader’s smugness was oozing off him in waves. “The gratitude is appreciated. All my actions are to protect the Ttaunz citizens of Faroor.”
All that would be Star Brigade’s doing, fool. Not yours. Fel scowled. However, if Praece buttering Maorridius up put him in a better position, then so be it. The bigger concern was Ghuj’aega. Imprisoned or not, the terrorist was too powerful to live. Tomoriq would let Star Brigade eliminate him before he dealt with them.
“On a less triumphant note,” Jaice now jockeyed for attention. “My apologies, Magnus, about Haemekk.”
The room chilled after that. Both Toniem and Praece gaped at Jaice. Fel moved around for a better view at the Magnus’s reaction.
The topic was unavoidable given Haemekk’s larger-than-life presence in Faroor planetary politics. Fel was just grateful Praece wasn’t the idiot to mention him.
“No one could have suspected him of treachery,” Praece chimed in.
For a split nanoclic, Fel caught emotion flicker across the Magnus’s face. Sorrow? Hatred? He
and Haemekk had once been friends. Moments later, the Ttaunz leader’s face was a hard mask. “A curse caused by his lowborn blood.” The Magnus tilted his head up imperiously, clearly disliking the topic. “Made him desperate for affluence and influence at any cost.”
“I never trusted him,” Toniem tutted curtly.
Fel was done with this meeting after that. His cover’s timespan was expiring soon. He sent a quick message via his datapad to Praece’s desk where only he could see.
Internal meeting with staff in 3 macroms.
Praece glanced at his desk. “Apologies. I apparently have an internal matter that requires my attention. Maorridius Magnus, we will talk more soon. Senators, we’ll meet within the orv?”
Everyone exchanged pleasantries before three holo avatars vanished into thin air, leaving only Praece and Fel.
“My internal NeuroNano schedule was clear until my meeting with the other Ttaunz senators,” Praece stated crossly, referring to a neuronanocyte scheduling app installed into his visual cortex. “What meeting are you referring to?”
“An impromptu meeting, Senator,” Fel stated in his own voice instead of Praece’s chief aide. “I prefer we speak on other pertinent matters.”
Praece gaped a long moment before dawning recognition overrode his confusion. “What the—” He leaped back, almost tripping over his own ridiculous robes. “How did you… How are you…?” His head whipped back and forth. “Where is Xaja?”
“Taking a long lunchbreak, which you authorized.” Fel plopped on the seat behind Praece son of Proejer’s own desk. “We need to talk.”
Annoyance flickered over the Ttaunz highborn. His eyes landed on the clutter of digital documents and reminders filling his desk’s surface. “Not now,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes, now, Senator,” Tomoriq insisted in unyielding tones. “Sit.” Not a request.
Praece’s anger was tangible, but he did as instructed. “I’m not sure why you are concerned.” He sat on the seat opposite his own desk. “My business development bill for Faroor—”
“Our business development bill,” Tomoriq corrected.
Senator Praece glared at him, jaw clenched tight. “Our bill,” he continued stiffly, “has already passed in the Chamber of Delegates. And my backing of Senator Guilloche’s no-confidence vote in interim Chouncilor Morje’Huijadan guarantees the Senate version’s passage.”
Fel wasn’t convinced. Is he that oblivious or willfully ignorant? The human, masked by his Voton holo avatar, leaned forward. “That might change, if your viceroy does not curb his xenocidal urges.”
Praece gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? The Magnus is doing damage control with all these skyquakes and lightning storms plaguing Faroor.”
Oblivious, it seems, Tomoriq decided. “Hush.” He placed a hand on the senator’s desk, shifted through its digital clutter, and pulled out a 4x3” holoscreen broadcasting a live news stream. “Watch.”
It took less than five nanoclics of time for the color to drain from Praece’s pelted skin. “By the Maker.”
“More like ‘by the Magnus,’” Tomoriq replied dryly. He dismissed the holoscreen with a wave of his hand. Using Star Brigade to cure Maorridius Magnus had taken Haemekk, Thaomé’s main operative, out of play. But the long-term repercussions of Faroor’s viceroy were not helping Fel at all. “Your planet’s leader must cease his Farooqua vendetta and his clashes with UComm over this issue. The optics make Faroor look unstable. And will erode support for our bill.”
Praece nodded hastily, all bother and belligerence gone. “I will speak with the Magnus.”
Tomoriq rose and adjusted his avatar’s clothing. “Do it immediately.” He turned to go, only to recall the more important reason for his visit—more important than any Union Bicameral bill.
“Before you do.” Fel turned as Praece stood up. “Convince the Ttaunz Defense Force and UComm to authorize emergency military support of your moon Qos. Battleships and whatnot to shoot down any non-military ships attempting to enter its aerospace.”
The Senator looked lost again, a common reaction. “Why would I authorize that?”
“Because I told you to. Back to work, Senator.” Fel’s holo avatar of Xaja vanished before Praece could respond.
Chapter 12
“Sweet Korvan’s bones,” Tharydane exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Where’s that?”
The Korvenite’s amazement came from a large holoscreen floating before her. She saw a panorama of forests and mountains with deep-red and round-layered pyramids strewn throughout.
“Faroor,” said Jeremy Nwosu’s disembodied voice. “Daddy sends me holovids from wherever he has a mission and says we’ll go there one day.”
Tharyn’s heart warmed hearing about Habraum and Jeremy’s ritual. Just another layer of their wonderful relationship. The Korvenite doubted she’d ever bond that deeply with Sam or even Lethe.
The Faroor landscape onscreen faded before Jeremy’s face: sinful cheeks, sparkling hazel-grey eyes with slight almond shapes, light brown complexion, and a brownish-black fro of hair. Tharydane missed him terribly. She wished on everything that Jeremy was on Hollus Maddrone instead of Terra Sollus with his maternal grandparents. She understood why. Habraum, currently on a mission, wanted the boy with family in his absence. Jeremy should be at school now, but had gotten suspended for punching a kid who disrespected Korvenites.
Tharyn cringed recalling that. She didn’t want him defending her. Beings who defended the Korvenites usually paid the price. Jeremy got suspended from school. Sam almost got mobbed by a crowd. Hugrask, her former guardian on Bimnorii, got killed.
The Korvenite teen sat cross-legged on her bed in sky blue pajama pants and a black T-shirt with a red Star Brigade logo. Tumbles of lazy violet curls spilled down her back and shoulders, snarled from her few orvs of sleep. It was the first time in two days that she’d returned to her bedroom in Sam’s quarters. Her human guardian was also away. After their blowup a few days ago, the two had been purposely avoiding each other. Tharyn thoroughly hated the situation. Yet Sam not letting Tharyn know her had become a wall between them. Probably better that way instead of her and Sam growing closer, only for the Korvenite to lose another adoptive parent.
She couldn’t push away Jeremy, however. The boy’s hold on her heartstrings (as Habraum called them) kept tightening. But she still tried protecting Jeremy as much as possible. “Jerm, you can’t hit everyone who insults Korvenites.”
Jeremy looked down bashfully, shuffling his feet. “Daddy said that, too.”
“Your dad’s very smart.”
He nodded. Much to Tharyn’s chagrin, his eyes sparkled with defiance. “But Tycho was mean and rude and needed to shut up.”
“You’re in a good school,” Tharyn insisted. She pushed several stray curls from her face. “Don’t ruin that over me.”
Jeremy pouted, more ashamed now. “But humans aren’t better than Korvenites. And they aren’t better than humans. We’re equals.”
Tharyn had to look away or her heart might burst. Habraum raised his son right, she marveled.
“Why are you awake?” Jeremy frowned. “It’s nighttime on Zeid.”
The question drew the Korvenite’s gaze back onto the holoscreen. “Couldn’t sleep. And I miss you.” That was mostly true. Tongues had dominated Tharyn’s dreams tonight, several of them lashing out like serpents from some humanoid’s mouth. She couldn’t remember the humanoid’s face, only the knee-buckling weakness when those tongues touched her. Then she would jolt awake, gasping and sweating. A disturbing ordeal, dream or not. It happened the night before also, which concerned Tharydane. The last time I had recurring nightmares, the Battle of Terra Sollus happened.
Tharyn couldn’t handle that again. She focused on Jeremy. “Besides, talking to you is more fun than sleeping.”
Jeremy was about to reply when someone off-screen called his name. “My grandparents say it’s lunchtime,” he said, looking disappointed. “Call you later?�
��
Tharydane hid her displeasure behind a sunny smile. “Definitely. Enjoy lunch.”
Once Jeremy exited the holoscreen, Tharyn closed it with a brisk hand wave.
Tharydane?
The Korvenite perked up at Lethe’s telepathic voice. Guess I’m not the only one up late. She sensed him outside her door, requesting an audience. “Come in.”
Her door slid open and her “other” guardian stepped inside. The long-necked Kudoban wore neon-green and white flowing robes that complemented his rough bronze-brown skin, pooling around his tree-stump-wide feet. “Hello, child,” Lethe’s facial, neck, and throat mouths spoke at different tenors, but all in sync.
“Hi,” Tharydane greeted blithely, tossing her long, violet curls over one shoulder. “What’s up?”
“You and Samantha,” the Kudoban replied bluntly. “I assumed your issues would resolve by now. But they haven’t. What happened on Santurce?”
Tharyn sighed. She knew this conversation was coming. “It’s complicated.”
The Kudoban folded his long, thin arms across his chest. “Simplify it, then.”
Tharyn gave Lethe access to her memories that day: lunching with Sam at coastal Santurce, getting harassed by humans, Sam’s thorough beating of another patron, and the ensuing argument between them.
Afterward, Tharyn felt angry and sad all over again. “She regrets adopting me, doesn’t she?”
“Never think that. Ever,” Lethe interrupted, unusually sharp. “Samantha will never abandon you. She was also very hurt by your words.”
Hearing that gutted Tharyn. Still, something within her wouldn’t bend. “Doesn’t seem so.”
Lethe tilted his egg-shaped head as his milky white eyes contracted incisively. “From what I witnessed yesterday, she’s clearly hurting. And not just about you.”
“I know.” Tharyn nodded sheepishly, recalling Sam’s Habraum issues. She prayed to Korvan those two would reconnect, like last time.
Lethe walked closer and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I will speak with her. We three will fix this misunderstanding.”