Star Brigade: Ascendant (SB4)

by C. C. Ekeke

  Chapter 48

  Abruptly, Habraum no longer stood inside the Zenith Point, facing off against a dozen Particulates. A sweeping look around himself revealed the bridge of a UComm command cruiser.

  “Rogguts,” the Cerc gasped in panic. One moment, our deaths were assured. Now? All this vanishing and reappearing around was breaking his brain. The Cerc counted Khal, Marguliese, Khrome, Zojje, as well as Taorr and Mhir’ujiid in his equally bewildered company. “Where are we now…?”

  Marguliese approached Habraum’s side, her sharp golden features emotionless as she studied their new location. “It appears we have returned to the Phaeton.” She was right. The familiar rounded bridge of Star Brigade’s command cruiser appeared exactly as they’d left it. Habraum almost sighed in relief, until suspicions reared up again.

  Khal voiced what the Cerc was thinking. “Is this our Phaeton? Our universe?” He ran nervous fingers through his wavy black hair.

  Habraum looked to his squat tech officer. “Khrome—”

  The Thulican marched to his workstation. “On it.”

  “Habraum.” Taorr’s voice grabbed the Cerc’s attention. He saw the Ttaunz and Mhir’ujiid holding hands, very calm all things considering. “This is the right universe and timeline.”

  Habraum frowned at their Zen-like certainty. “And you know that how?” he demanded, hands on hips.

  Mhir’ujiid offered a melodic laugh, her lengthy neon-green mohawk swishing back and forth. “We showed the Zenith Point where to go.”

  Habraum exchanged an uneasy look with Zojje behind them.

  She speaks truly, the Kudoban replied telepathically.

  “Right.” Habraum waited for Khrome’s analysis.

  “Oh fearless leader,” Khrome said, clearing his throat, which resembled metal scraping together. “We’re at the right date, right Faroor, right angle of starlight.”

  “Reign,” Marguliese said before he could reply to Khrome’s always untimely humor. The Cybernarr knelt next to helm control…and a motionless body with dark orange, segmented skin.

  Habraum’s eyes bulged. “Solrao?” He rushed to her side. He’d feared the worst when Solrao and the Phaeton vanished. The Cerc gave the Ibrisian’s shoulders a gentle shake. “Solrao, can you hear me?”

  Another shake jolted her eyes open, featuring a series of red and white concentric circles contracting as they readjusted to the halolights. Seeing the Cerc, Solrao offered him a sleepy smile. “Habraum—Captain Nwosu, sir. What happened?”

  “Wanted to ask you the same.” Habraum helped the gangly Ibrisian to her feet. She looked unharmed, but the Cerc still wanted a full medical workup. “Where did the Zenith Point send you and the ship?”

  Solrao looked puzzled. “Ehhhh…nowhere? One macrom, we’re diving into the Zenith Point. The next, you’re waking me up.” The Ibrisian observed the group gathered around her, flinching from Zojje, Taorr, and Mhir’ujiid.

  “Where’d you three come from?” Solrao turned to Habraum, lost. “How long was I out?”

  Habraum studied her in growing concern. The Zenith Point clearly sent her someplace else. But where? Those answers can wait.

  “The Dreaming Farooqua is defeated,” Marguliese answered crisply. “With aid from the Zenith Point.”

  “That’s totally beyond,” Solrao said with a goofy smile. “When do we drink and celebrate?”

  Habraum chuckled. Marguliese arched an eyebrow.

  Khrome scoffed. “Back at Hollus, of course!”

  “I’m thinking a few debriefings will happen first,” Khal reminded, already typing away at his workstation. “Specifically with UComm and the Ttaunz Defense Force.”

  The greenhorn has a point, Habraum supposed. “Document every detail, Vertex,” he ordered, then turned back to Zojje, Taorr, and Mhir’ujiid. Their entranced gazes were starting to bother him. “We’ll drop Mhir’ujiid off with the Quud, then Zojje and Taorr at Magnasterium after we reconnect with the rest of CT-1.” Habraum’s thoughts drifted to Cortes, along with hopes that Tyris and V’Korram found her alive.

  “You’ll only need to drop off Zojje,” Taorr said.

  Khrome looked up from his workstation. “Whathow?”

  “Oh, really?” A confused Habraum put his hands on his hips. “Why’s that?”

  Mhir’ujiid and Taorr exchanged glowing looks. “We’re leaving Faroor…with the Zenith Point.”

  No one on Phaeton’s bridge knew how to reply to that. “And how…are you doing that?” Khal inquired, not even pretending to work anymore.

  Taorr spoke now. “Before we were sent back to this timeline, the Zenith Point presented an offer.”

  “After connecting with our minds,” Mhir’ujiid chimed in cheerfully. “It realizes how much Aut’ala lied as much as the Particulate suppressed. It wants to learn more about the universe.”

  “And there is so much damage the Zenith Point inadvertently caused beyond Faroor,” Taorr added, draping an arm around Mhir’ujiid’s shoulders. “We have to try fixing it.”

  “Most importantly,” his Farooqua partner concluded, “neither of us can stay on Faroor.”

  Habraum fought back a smile. Their love was adorable, inspiring. But stealing the greatest find in the last millennium? “UComm won’t let that happen. You leaving with the Zenith Point.”

  “And how will they detain a living space/time nexus?” Taorr inquired curiously. His tone held no threat, but the question was a clear challenge.

  “Fair point,” Habraum agreed. He knew not even a flotilla of Eclipsers, AeroFleet’s largest and most powerful warships, could contain a being like the Zenith Point.

  Zojje cared little about that, placing gentle hands on Taorr’s shoulders. “There is still so much work to be done on Faroor. Between your respective races.”

  “Zojje.” Taorr smiled at the Kudoban in resignation, his face adamant. “There’s nothing left for us on Faroor. But I know you will not give up on peace between Farooqua and Ttaunz.”

  Zojje deflated upon hearing this, but his egg-shaped head bobbed up and down in acceptance.

  “We are only here to bid farewell to our families.” Mhir’ujiid’s dark opal-like eyes swept over Star Brigade. “And you all. We wouldn’t be together if not for you.”

  “We’re going to catch ten kinds of shit for this,” Khal reminded.

  Habraum glared over his shoulder and Khal shrank back. “Like we could stop them?” The Cerc approached Taorr and Mhir’ujiid, shaking their hands. “Good luck, sprouts.” They exchanged handshakes with Khal, Marguliese, Solrao, and Khrome. The couple then hugged a teary-eyed Zojje.

  “Farewell,” Mhir’ujiid said with an odd smile. “For now…” The pair then vanished in a bright blue flash.

  Khal gazed at the empty spot where they’d stood. “That actually happened.”

  Habraum couldn’t muster any more surprise today. “Sollie. You good to fly?”

  Solrao sat on her helm seat, irked by the question. “Have we not met each other?”

  “Frequently,” the Cerc quipped. He took a long look at the Phaeton’s mainscreen where the Zenith Point floated in high orbit. No doubt UComm and Ttaunz Defense flotillas were scrambling to surround that. Good luck. “Take us back to Magnasterium to drop Zojje off after we locate the rest of CT-1.”

  A loud chirp drew everyone’s attention. Khal looked at a console and his face tensed. “Incoming transmission from Tyris.”

  Habraum’s heartbeat thundered before he accepted the call. “Arcturus. You and Jakadda alright? Did you find Cortes?”

  The tired voice that answered wasn’t Tyris. “Hi, Captain Nwosu.”

  A constant, lingering worry fell off Habraum like a cloak. “Liliana! Thank the Twins you’re alright!” Joyous relief filled the bridge. Even Marguliese, rarely emotional, displayed the barest hint of a smile.

  “LLC!” Khrome shouted in delight.

  “Khrome-tastic,” Lily threw back, a smile in her tired voice. The Thulican barked with laughter.


  “Thought you all were goners,” the doctor said. “And I heard Captain Nwosu ran into a singularity for me.”

  “It was more of a leap,” Habraum corrected with a laugh, relief flooding in. “How are you?”

  “Alive,” she answered with a mournful tremor. Cortes’s voice gained more firmness as she continued. “We’re at Magnasterium. Tyris got injured.”

  Habraum stopped smiling. And worry bore back down on his shoulders. “Is he—?”

  “Recovering. He’ll be fine,” Cortes reassured. “There’s more to discuss when you arrive.”

  “No doubt,” Habraum agreed, and sat down. The Cerc didn’t realize how bone-tired he was until his behind landed on his captain’s seat. “We’ll reach Magnasterium in a half orv. Rogguts, do we have some stories for you!”

  Chapter 49

  The backdrop couldn’t have been more perfect for Mhir’ujiid’s farewell.

  Qiidr Ol-Chaeda, the sprawling mountain city where she grew up, surrounded her. The morning skies were a basin of cherry pink streaked in gold, bathing the mountains in radiance. The small silhouette of Qos, Mhir’ujiid’s new home, hung near the sky’s apex but not close enough to eclipse the sun.

  She stood in the city’s largest plaza, her favorite plaza, ringed by immediate family, extended family, and close friends. These Quud with their simple squashed faces, she could never rejoin their world. The city’s round pyramids rose toward the heavens on the plaza’s outskirts, spectators to the sizable gathering.

  Her parents stood before her, fighting back tears.

  Her father, High Chief of the Quud tribes, stout and scarred up in appearance. Her mother, a lithe warrior from head to toe.

  Mhir’ujiid saw how they all gaped, understanding why. She was still within the Zenith Point, her presence in Qiidr Ol-Chaeda a projection coated in shimmery light.

  Mhir’ujiid and Taorr’s sudden appearances had halted the hostile standoff between the Farooqua Tribal Nations and the Ttaunz. After returning to Qiidr Ol-Chaeda, Mhir’ujiid had told her family and friends everything: what the Zenith Point truly was, what she had seen, and where she was headed with Taorr. Her nerves had been all over the globe during her confessions.

  The reaction from her tribe and family was mostly positive, except from the Zenith Point votaries whose whole world had been upended.

  “Go with our blessing,” her father grasped his daughter’s slim shoulders. “I hope you find your purpose.”

  Mhir’ujiid truly felt she had. Looking around, she knew the Quud Tribal nations would remain in her heart always. But the Farooqua girl was ready for her new life with Taorr, shepherding the Zenith Point.

  “I apologize,” she began gesturing in kineticabulary, teary-eyed, “for not saying goodbye earlier.”

  Her mother interjected sharply in kineticabulary. “There is nothing to forgive. The Zenith Point chose you.” Her mother did not cry. She was overjoyed, pulling Mhir’ujiid into a firm embrace. Her father, despite his battle-hardened façade, wrapped his arms around both females.

  Then her remaining younger siblings swarmed in, tearfully bidding goodbye to their elder sister. “Farewell for now,” she corrected them with a shaky voice. “We will see each other again.”

  After that, she waved goodbye to the Quud Tribal Nation. Qiidr Ol-Chaeda and all the Quud soon faded. Instants later, Mhir’ujiid was back inside the Zenith Point with its giant tree-like growths of fluid throbbing organic matter, each growth stretching upward into forever. My new home…

  The Zenith Point’s concern roiled through her in curious waves.

  The Farooqua shook off the emotion. “That’s sorrow to leave my home and family. I will be fine.”

  She saw Taorr at her side, blank-faced as he looked ahead. He was wearing new shimmery purple robes provided by the Zenith Point, more striking than any she’d seen on him. “How was it?” Mhir’ujiid asked.

  The Ttaunz snorted. “I told them about Gaorr. I received insults and threats to disown me. As expected.”

  Mhir’ujiid frowned, but she wasn’t surprised. “I’m sorry.”

  Taorr didn’t appear angered or even saddened. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Uarya has my DNA, which should give her family ties to mine and the Magnal Throne. And my father is not short of heirs.”

  That confused Mhir’ujiid. The Zenith Point’s bafflement flooded them both. “But Gaorr is dead.”

  Taorr sighed and explained. “Ttaunz children are created in labs, remember? You think Gaorr and I are his only spawns? All prominent highborn Ttaunz family keep at least seven spares in hiding or stasis in case anything happens to their primary heirs.”

  Speaking about his soon-to-be former life was clearly upsetting Taorr. The Farooqua took his hand in her own and smiled. “So you’re ready to leave?”

  Taorr stared at her and burst out laughing. “Very much. UComm ships have surrounded us. We do not want to harm them.” The caution was more for the Zenith Point, whose response was a sullen rumble throughout its walls.

  The couple reached out to each other subliminally, another new trick merging with the Zenith Point provided. Mhir’ujiid sensed every aspect of Taorr, his strength, his secret fears, his gushing love for her. And he no doubt could sense her whole self, flaws and all. As long as he knew how much the Farooqua’s heart belonged to him.

  When their thoughts became unison, they reached out to the Zenith Point itself, an eager youth in personality. We are ready, Mhir’ujiid and Taorr announced. A flood of energy coursed from the Zenith Point, coiled and ready to launch.

  Those on Faroor’s surface and in the hundreds of UComm vessels guarding the craggy moon couldn’t explain what happened next.

  One moment they saw Qos in Faroor’s orbit. The next moment, the Zenith Point vanished, as if never even there.

  Chapter 50

  “Mr. Fel. This is Senator Praece, son of Proejer. Calling you for the thirty-fifth time,” the Ttaunz spoke through gritted teeth, glaring at a blank wall viewscreen. “I know our last conversation ended badly. But we have to discuss next steps. Contact me immediately.” With that, he ended another transmission to Tomoriq Fel.

  Praece paced anxiously within the safety of his palatial estate in Faroor’s city-state of Muunica. His mind was a mess. His professional life even worse.

  He ran fingers through long flowing hair, an unusual sight for a highborn Ttaunz such as himself. But at this point Praece cared little about his appearance.

  Days ago, Praece was a rising star in Galactic Union politics. He had the ear of Senator Mre Guilloche and was on track to pass a massive Economic Expansion Bill that would’ve secured Faroor’s future and Praece’s legacy.

  Then came all this havoc Qos had wreaked on Faroor, vanishing and reappearing on a different side of the planet. Qos had vanished again a day ago, and didn’t reappear. This had painted the senator’s homeworld as an unstable investment.

  The news streams had been raking Praece over the asteroids.

  Guilloche and other Union Senators had made matters worse, complaining to the press about his “derelict” handling of the senate bill.

  Guilloche had abandoned him after that, despite Praece backing the Rhomeran’s ouster of interim Chouncilor Morje’Huijadan—a long-time friend. And when Guilloche had withdrawn support, all his cronies followed suit.

  “All because I went to insure my wife and unborn child were alive?” Praece asked himself. The series of betrayals still left him flabbergasted.

  He should have felt more upset. Instead, the young Ttaunz was just numbed out. Praece turned attention to the oval-shaped ex vitro chamber in the room’s center, holding his unborn daughter. The chamber was buoyed up by dark coils feeding in nutrients and orange amniotic fluids. His progeny, hairless and curled up in slumber, was two months away from delivery.

  “I hoped to have elevated our family’s fortune before your birth.” Praece looked to the ceiling and seethed. “I will make you proud. I will leave you a legacy that your grand
children will extol to their children.” Although his fellow Ttaunz Union Senators applauded his bravery and had voted for his bill in solidarity, they refused to help get him back in Guilloche’s good graces.

  Praece looked away from his unborn child. Best to focus on tomorrow’s goals instead of yesterday’s failures. Many within the highborn community would look down on his failures, Maorridius Magnus especially. The stories of Minister Haemekk’s demise still sent shudders down Praece’s spine. “Best to make facetime with the Magnus while onworld,” he muttered, making a mental note for his office to set up the meeting.

  Praece would start with small victories, like allying with Maorridius Magnus, until bigger opportunities presented themselves. Without Tomoriq Fel.

  He walked through the hallway to his bedroom. “Saerece?” His wife had entered a few macroms ago. Praece was hungry for some form of distraction. “Saerece. I suggest some dinner. Preferably at home for the next few weeks.” He entered his expansive bedroom. The walls of this lavish space were adorned with framed holopictures of Praece and Saerece dressed in the finest attire at highborn and congressional events.

  The Senator was about to call for his wife again, only to stop and stare.

  A bald humanoid woman stood in front of Praece’s bed, around six feet tall, almost his same height. Her dark skintight bodysuit with the deep v-cut décolletage highlighted every curve of her long and leggy physique. If not for her undesirably hairless silver skin, Praece would have considered this the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Saerece’s way of cheering me up? Praece frowned. His wife knew he preferred Ttaunz companions. Oh well. Maybe something different would help him refocus.

  “And you are?” The Senator put on his sexiest smirk, approaching her with a peacocking strut.

  The woman didn’t smile back. “A courier,” she replied with as much emotion as her cold purple eyes.

  An unsettled feeling in the Ttaunz senator’s gut stopped him dead. Suddenly this visitor didn’t feel sensual…or safe. “Where is my wife?” Praece demanded, the question trembling off his mouth.