Star Brigade: Ascendant (SB4)

by C. C. Ekeke

  “Let’s see what we can find,” Sam seethed, entering the shuttle with Stronghold in tow. According to Lethe, the shuttle was empty, Loroorol or Tharydane long gone.

  Sam expected that, fighting to contain her fears of the worst, that hopelessness. Losing control wouldn’t get her daughter back.

  She scoured the vessel for clues with her eyes and a datapad. There were traces of Korvenite and Ikarian DNA. But no blood or signs of violence.

  “Freerunner,” Sam’s voice sounded rougher than intended. But niceties weren’t her concern. “Update?”

  “Pulling holovid footage from that flight bay,” Addison responded over the shared com channel. “I’ll have Loroorol’s arrival in the next two macroms.” She was back on the Ishliba, which hovered just outside Jefferson Station’s orbit. Like with Bevrolor, every member of CT-2 had offered to help find Tharydane.

  “Heatstroke, Captain,” Surje’s staccato voice sounded. “Spoke with station personnel. About the abduction. Hightower and I. Using Freerunner’s forged UniPol order. All departures from this mining station have been halted pending a security sweep.”

  Sam nodded, appreciative but not satisfied. She’s known Bevrolor’s former UniPol background would be useful. “No ship leaves Jefferson until we find Tharyn.”

  Lethe didn’t look as confident. “That will only last so long.”

  “So what?” Sam snapped. Tharydane was her only priority. “You have anything?”

  The Kudoban shook his egg-shaped head, his face a portrait of helplessness. “I do not sense her in this region. I will comb every station level until I do.”

  Sam turned then to her medic officer. “Stronghold?”

  The Brigadier codenamed Stronghold cut a leaner figure, having switched from his damaged combat suit into a less bulky civilian containment suit of dark green tinting.

  The Ubruqite crawled on all fours within the shuttle, running probing fingers along the floor all the way to the helm. Jhori frowned at him in fleeting confusion, only for his face to relax in understanding as he connected to the Ubruqite’s mind.

  Stronghold’s presence had to do with his less flashy psychometry ability, touching inanimate objects and discovering facts about the being associated with them. “Transmatted from Hollus in a hurry,” he murmured, sounding entranced and numbed out. “Unconscious Korvenite, alive.”

  Sam’s breath caught upon hearing Tharydane had been alive. She clung to that hope. If not, she’d break.

  “Korvenite placed in a floating containment box,” Stronghold continued. “Loroorol carried the box out.”

  “Great. Progress.” Sam exchanged looks with Jhori and Lethe before turning to Stronghold. “Lead the way to where that traitorous fuck took Tharydane.”

  “Heatstroke. I have footage of Loroorol’s arrival,” Addison announced over the comms. “And whatever he did after that. Cleaning it up before I send to your datapad.”

  Sam was about to reply until a choked cry interrupted. She whirled about, as did Jhori and Stronghold. Lethe lurched back against a shuttle bulkhead. His milky white eyes were saucer-wide and glazed.

  He sensed something. Sam rushed to his side. “Lethe?” She held the Kudoban’s thin shoulders and shook. The last thing they needed was him losing it. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  “Tharydane,” the Kudoban gasped out.

  She’s dead, isn’t she? Sam’s world froze. The Children of Earth uncloaked her location just so Lethe could feel them killing her…

  “I sense Tharydane again,” Lethe continued, straightening up. “Just barely, but she’s alive.”

  Relief crashed over Sam, beating back the onslaught of despair. Thank God those two had established a psychic rapport as part of Lethe’s flawed security protocols. “Where?”

  “Terra Sollus. Somewhere underground,” Lethe answered wispily. His milky eyes bulged. “I’m not close enough to pinpoint her exact location. She’s afraid. And in danger.”

  Sam’s heart was racing again. She didn’t try guessing how Tharydane had been moved so quickly. “Freerunner. Transmat CT-2 and Jhori back to the Ishliba. We’re heading to Terra Sollus.” She turned to Lethe. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Instants later, Loroorol’s shuttle vanished in waves of sparkling white.

  ***

  Nine coiling tongues were nearly touching Tharydane’s face, radiant and insatiable with hunger. She curled up on the grimy earth, sucking in tiny breaths. The osvowraith’s abnormal chill paralyzed the Korvenite, sapping away hope, clutching her chest painfully tight.

  Her family’s voices grew louder, calling from beyond.

  “Goodbye, Jerm,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Lethe, Sam, Habraum. I love you all.” This was Tharydane’s end, and her birth family was waiting.

  The osvowraith’s silhouette loomed over her. Hunger oozed from the red slits it called eyes. “Don’t worry, frail,” it hissed with ethereal venom. “I will take my sweet time with you—”

  A pulse pistol blast rang out—striking the osvowraith’s forehead. The beast let out a hideous shriek and stumbled sideways in surprise, coiling tongues withdrawing into its mouth. Two more fiery pulse blasts ripped through the osvowraith’s chest, driving him further from Tharyn. Another clipped his shoulder, shredding flesh. Another lanced through the beast’s stomach.

  The icy fog suddenly lifted. Tharyn gulped down a huge gasp of air and sat up, pushing tousled violet curls from her face. The fear was still present, but the will to survive flooded to Tharyn’s limbs in a rush of heady warmth. And the voices of her family quieted.

  “Who—?” The Korvenite’s stunned gaze followed the pulse blast’s origin point and her jaw dropped.

  Miranda emerged from the darkness, stone-cold focus on her freckled face and a long pulse pistol aimed at her target. She marched forward, firing repeatedly at the osvowraith. Each flashing round reflected off her vacant eyes.

  The osvowraith shuddered as each shot struck its gaunt body, before finally dropping to its knees.

  A blast straight to the temple felled the osvowraith, greyish smoke curling from its burned flesh.

  She glanced briskly at Tharyn’s disbelieving face and shrugged. “Bright and shiny distraction, remember?” Miranda stated in blasé tones. “I’m not surrendering you to some fairytale monster.”

  Tharydane shivered, not knowing if she was grateful or more fearful.

  Miranda rounded her with soldier-like efficiency, standing over the fallen osvowraith. She squeezed off two more rounds into the back of its neck. The beast trembled, each blast scorching through flesh and muscle. Miranda aimed for the skull through that tangle of dreadlocks.

  Tharyn sensed a spike of fury from the downed beast. “Look out!” she cried.

  Too late. The osvowraith popped up and roared, cutting the distance between it and Miranda in two quick strides. Lashing out, it backhanded the pulse pistol from Miranda’s hands so violently that she was spun halfway around like a ragdoll.

  “That hurt!” he snarled with barely intelligible fury.

  When Tharyn saw the osvowraith’s writhing tongues snake forward, she knew what came next. Miranda was suddenly lifted off the ground as the osvowraith’s tongues impaled her arms, chest, and legs. Surprise and pain dominated the human’s face as the beast slurped on her like a juice box.

  Tharyn scrambled back. She could already see Miranda’s fair skin turning grey and her auburn eyes clouding over. The osvowraith would suck the human dry within macroms and then move onto Tharyn.

  And I can’t stop him, she realized. Wracking her brain, the Korvenite reviewed her scant options.

  Running was a nonstarter. The beast would catch her, and her left knee still ached. And besides the non-aggressive psychic techniques Lethe and Jhori had taught her, the Korvenite knew one lethal attack which she didn’t know how to access. And after the last time she wielded such power, did Tharyn truly want to reawaken that monster?

  “In short, I’m dead,” she
gasped.

  The osvowraith kept feeding on Miranda, who violently spasmed in anguish. The human’s psyche was fading, her trim and athletic figure withering. Plus, the pulse blasts pocking the beast’s body were closing up from consuming its latest meal. And I’m next.

  Do not give up, Tharyn, a Korvenite voice assured. You can defeat this beast.

  That jolted Tharyn from the horror show before her. Definitely not anyone from her family. The Korvenite looked around, whipping her tousled violet curls about. “Who?”

  Unimportant, a female voice replied impatiently. Use what Jhori taught you and fight for your life.

  But Jhori had mainly taught her defensive techniques. Nothing to really attack someone else. Then Tharydane recalled one of the two attacks Jhori had showed her. This one, with enough force, was lethal. She focused her mind, searching for any psychic static floating about this sewer. Around the corpses of Loroorol and Kingston Reyes in the safe house, Tharyn sensed massive amounts from their deaths. She drew all that static into herself, feeling it flow and crackle. She turned to the osvowraith, its writhing tongues still slurping on Miranda’s limp body. A quick scan revealed the human woman was moments from death.

  “Now or never.” Thrusting both hands at the osvowraith, Tharyn unleashed dual forks of cherry-pink psychic lightning. The bolts struck from behind, lancing through its body. The beast dropped Miranda, arching back with a blood-souring shriek. Rosy brilliance chased away the tunnel’s shadows.

  Connected to the osvowraith, Tharyn tasted agony, hatred, and all-consuming hunger. She felt every moment of its months tortured by the Children of Earth. She watched the hate group force the beast to be their hound, tracking down Korvenites below Terra Sollus’s surface.

  Tharyn would have let him go as recompense for his enslavement, but knew she could not. The beast would kill her and so many others. She upped the psychic lightning intensity, and…couldn’t. All she could do was scorch the beast enough to wound but not kill. She hadn’t pooled enough psychic static.

  “I’m not strong enough.” Panic was taking over, and the Korvenite felt herself tiring.

  The distant Korvenite spoke again. Connect with us.

  Us? Tharyn struggled to hold up her tired arms as the osvowraith turned to her, its red eyes burning.

  Unilink with our minds, tap into our power.

  Tharyn didn’t know who or where these Korvenites were, or why they wanted to help. Then she saw Miranda’s body several feet away, still and barely alive. That will be me if I don’t act.

  Steeling away her doubts, the teen reached out and touched the radiance of her fellow Korvenites’ minds. Charged vigor immediately scorched her veins. “Sweet Korvan!” she exclaimed.

  That’s it, Tharydane, the female Korvenite sounded relieved. Fill yourself to the brim.

  Tharydane did just that. The fatigue in her arms vanished. Her injured knee didn’t even ache. Connecting to these unknown Korvenites was dizzying, electrifying, and intoxicating all at once. She had become a conduit for their power, light as a cloud yet potent beyond measure. A part of her soul she’d forgotten opened to receive this pure Korvenite Unilink. It tickled. She laughed.

  Now fight, Tharydane, several Korvenites boomed at once. Fight…and live.

  Tharydane locked eyes with the osvowraith. It still trembled under the forks of lightning impaling through its rangy frame, still attempted to reach her.

  The Korvenite gathered this newfound psionic power at her fingertips and released. Jagged forks buffeted the osvowraith with greater force. The beast’s shrieks sounded like nothing of this galaxy, let alone this universe. She savored the smell of his putrid flesh boiling…dying.

  Tharyn embraced the power and her fear of it, hurling more lightning at the osvowraith. Pink crackling psionic intensity flooded Tharydane’s whole world. The power grew too raw, too bright, too much.

  The Korvenite swayed under the enormity before pitching forward, her mind drowning in blinding illumination…

  Chapter 44

  Habraum gaped at the bare ground where the alternate universe Habraum once stood. That stubborn, obnoxious, yet righteous other Cerc.

  And Aut’ala had reduced him to nothing.

  Shock immediately became grief, and then hatred. The Cerc clenched his fists, biokinetic energy flooding through him. He ached to pound this squit’s head in before blasting it clean off his shoulders. Nothing would have felt sweeter.

  The Cerc almost advanced on Aut’ala, and then glanced at his subordinates. Khrome, hovering in the air, ready to hurtle in. Khal, crawling away from this short and scrawny Aut’ala. Marguliese, staggering upright to stand by the Cerc.

  They needed him in control of his roiling emotions, leading them with focus. Habraum couldn’t lunge in like when he plunged after Cortes without a thought to the rest of CT-1. Not against someone as dangerous as Aut’ala.

  He aimed both glowing fists at the Farooqua with smoldering hate. One of many scenarios held his attention. Khal holds him steady, Khrome comes from behind and me from the front. Then Maggie finishes him off.

  From the corner of Habraum’s eye, he spied the Zenith Point’s veiny growths rearing up to defend its shepherd. The Particulate still lay prone on the ground, ultimately useless. Overhead, Khrome hovered behind Aut’ala, his blue face a mask of cold determination. Glancing right revealed Khal flanking the Farooqua. The youth hid his fears well, fingers curled like claws as his lean frame swelled with invisible telekinetic power. Maggie had reached Habraum’s side, coiled to pounce on his orders. We have to hit hard and fast…

  Aut’ala raised a hand in response at Habraum, but surprisingly not to defend himself. Either out of arrogance or stupidity. “Stay your aggression, Habraum,” he requested. His skin’s throbbing glow notwithstanding, he looked exactly like Ghuj’aega. Yet his voice was calmer, more refined and so otherworldly. “I can call you Habraum, yes?”

  Habraum’s answer was one hard word. “No.”

  Aut’ala stiffened. “Fine—Reign.” He lowered his hand, eyes glittering. “Listen before you employ any foolish action, which I can see happening from several divergent scenarios. I did not kill your doppelganger. I returned the other Habraum to his universe the moment the Particulate abducted him.”

  Habraum scoffed. “Like I should believe you?” Best to keep Aut’ala talking, get him distracted.

  “Believe what you want.” Aut’ala tilted his chin in defiance. “This other Habraum still lives as my show of good will. I could wipe you and yours out of existence with barely a thought.” A smile graced his squashed face as he spread his arms welcomingly. “Yet here I am willing to parlay.”

  Habraum said nothing, his glowing fists still aimed at his foe as he began to circle Aut’ala.

  “You may be misinformed of my intentions,” the Farooqua began, still sporting that pompous smile. “And Ghuj’aega, in his haste to obey my will, may have approached Star Brigade with far less…polish.”

  Khrome spoke next. “What happened to Ghuj’aega?”

  The demand made Aut’ala laugh. Around him, the Zenith loomed in threatening attitudes. “That brute’s essence was destroyed when I assumed control of his body.” He made a face as if smelling something foul, shaking it off quickly. “Such details are trivial. My goals are merely to correct an injustice to my species by a hostile alien force.” He gestured at a wall of veined and knotted technorganic growth behind them, which parted to reveal a sizable viewscreen. On it Habraum saw Faroor, the same mud-brown-and-grey world he recognized. Except a colossal vessel hung in orbit, golden and spherical like a small moon of bullion. “We have reached right when the Particulates arrived with their accursed offer to my species, the true Farooqua.”

  Aut’ala scrutinized the golden sphere. “I will stop them from ever preying on my race’s naiveté, and harming others.” Aut’ala turned fully to Habraum and his Brigadiers, clearly believing himself the hero of this tale. “Just like you did when handling the Korvenites on Terra
Sollus.”

  Habraum’s surprise was shared among the three other Brigadiers. “How do you—”

  Aut’ala tapped his forehead smugly. “Knowledge at a glance.”

  “You’d ‘fix’ what happened to the Farooqua,” Habraum stated, still circling. “At the expense of our entire universe?” The Cerc could taste the energy oozing off Aut’ala. He wasn’t distracted enough, especially with this “knowledge at a glance” ability.

  Aut’ala wagged a disapproving finger. “Not that simple.” He pointed at the Particulate, who was now on a knee. “That beast and his kind took everything from me. Reducing a once intelligent and technologically advanced species to primitive throwbacks. Torturing me for over four millennia!”

  “Liar!” The Particulate was on his feet, midnight cloak swirling. His rodent-like face contorted in loathing. “Your species was offered to ascend. Instead of peaceful avenues, your Farooqua chose war.” He charged at Aut’ala with a startling burst of speed. “This Zenith Point was because you abused our—”

  Aut’ala waved a hand, not bothering to look his way. “Silence.” The Zenith Point attacked, a dark, veiny growth snaking out, slamming the Particulate to the ground before he could even get close.

  “Do your lies make your crimes more palatable?” Aut’ala roared, shuddering through the whole area. “Suppressing this sphere’s unexpected birth, when it needed affection and care? And I doubt we are the first victims of your offers to ascend.”

  The Particulate groaned pitifully, briefly struggling before going limp.

  Rogguts. Habraum cringed. The Particulate’s charge had been the perfect time to strike…until it wasn’t.

  “Believe any of this?” he whispered to Marguliese.

  “Both sides are near equidistant in their shared culpability,” the Cybernarr responded softly. But it seemed to Habraum that the Particulate, at least, was trying to fix things for the greater good.

  “Aut’ala and The Zenith Point are bonded more intricately than expected,” he whispered so low only she could hear. “We will need a better strategy to take the former out.”