by C. C. Ekeke
Marguliese eyed him as well, a furrow faintly crinkling her golden features. “Habraum, what is this regarding?”
The Cerc called for the ready room’s privacy mode before continuing. “Where I ended up when I jumped after Cortes.”
Khrome and Marguliese exchanged a blank look. “You weren’t very forthcoming,” the Thulican noted.
Habraum nodded. “There’s a reason.” He approached a console on his ready room desk, typed in an access code. “I copied my memories using some neuronanocyte program. After viewing this, I need both your honest evaluations.” A tiny ball of white light soon appeared just over the console. Habraum grabbed hold and tossed it upward. The ball spread into a wide floating holoscreen.
On that screen played fresh memories of one single, horrific day for his subordinates to witness. The Cerc couldn’t watch again. He remembered every detail and death with crystal clarity.
Khrome tensed at the sight of the cyberorganic beings slashing through seasoned Brigadiers. Marguliese stood like a statue, save for her glowing eye.
Habraum watched her intently, hoping beyond hope he had no reason to distrust his long-time friend.
Khrome spoke first. “You revisited the Beridaas Massacre.” It wasn’t a question.
“Correct,” Habraum replied, eyes still on Marguliese.
“OH.” Khrome gaped at something onscreen, gory images reflecting off his round, yellow eyes. “By the Spheres!”
“Those are Cybernarr,” Marguliese confirmed impassively, her unblinking gaze locked on the holoscreen. “Not a type I am familiar with. From your and Captain D’Urso’s mission reports, your attackers were designated as unidentified demonic aliens.”
“We thought these were,” Habraum amended. “We also got hit with some gaseous attack beforehand.”
“Meaning your visual and auditory senses were compromised during the attack,” Khrome decided. His flat, noseless face was all business.
Habraum finally glanced in his direction. “My thoughts exactly.”
By the fulsome white glow blanketing everywhere, the holovid of memories had ended. Habraum allowed himself to breathe again. Swiping his hand, the holoscreen vanished.
“That explains your removed behavior toward me,” Marguliese turned to him. “You assumed I had some awareness or contribution?” Sorrow and hurt flickered across the Cybernarr’s golden features, gone just as quickly. “I did not. By this timeframe I had already disconnected from the Technoarchy.”
“I know, Maggie.” Habraum raised a hand to mollify her defensiveness. He felt relieved hearing her confirm his suspicions. “Seeing you after finding out about the Technoarchy’s involvement just hit close to home.”
Khrome looked uninterested in that relief. “If the Technoarchy attacked Star Brigade a year and a half ago, that means…” The Thulican seemed almost reluctant to say it. Understandable, given what the Technoarchy had taken from his species.
“The Cybernarr view Star Brigade as a threat,” Marguliese finished for him. “And have already deeply infiltrated Union Space.”
Habraum closed his eyes, thoughts whirling. Marguliese had privately warned him months ago of potential Cybernarr intrusion into Galactic Union territories. The truth about Beridaas confirmed that.
The Cerc opened his eyes and faced two members of a small intra-Brigade faction he’d secretly formed to work on Technoarchy countermeasures. “Seems we’ll need to accelerate our plans by two hundred percent. Plus, the strategies we’re devising can no longer remain between us, Tyris, and Addison.” That truth twisted Habraum’s stomach into knots. Suddenly this Technoarchy threat felt too real, the Ferronos Sector War revisited. Ignoring the paranoid soldier inside, Habraum forced himself to verbalize that reality. “We’ll need help. Both from inside Star Brigade and outside.”
And that meant bringing Sam into the fold on this.
Chapter 55
“My brain started melting at fucking time travel and alternate universes,” Sam exclaimed. “Christ on a comet, Habraum!”
Habraum shrugged understandingly, scratching the blue skullcap on his bald head. “Admiral Hollienurax had the same reaction, just less coarse.” The Cerc was in casual attire: white V-neck sweater and dark-grey beat-up denims, as requested by Hollienurax when they had met earlier today.
His Galdorian superior officer, also dressed casually when they met in the Oklorada Basin, had been unusually spooked by what Habraum had told him. This included both the Zenith Point’s abilities and the Cybernarr attack on Beridaas. Habraum fully understood that reaction.
Sam sat cross-legged on the floor before him, clutching her high ponytail in disbelief. “I just...don’t think the term holy shit is enough for this.” Even with a baffled frown, she looked beautiful to Habraum.
The two had been discussing the more ethereal elements of CT-1’s Faroor mission, all redacted from the formal mission brief. Habraum would have rather met in person. Except, both Brigade captains were light-years apart. The Cerc was on his private shuttle, leaving the Terra Sollan nation Vesspuccia from a meeting with Hollienurax. Now he was heading for the nation Xibetan to pick up Jeremy.
Sam D’Urso, sitting before Habraum in a snug velvety indigo hoodie and sweatpants, was a TriTran hologram. She actually sat on the Ishiliba with CT-2 heading for the Barsulae Asteroid Belt to meet with a UniPol taskforce. The joint unit would continue mopping up some CoE paramilitary holdouts.
“When news of the Zenith Point spreads,” Habraum warned, echoing Hollienurax’s caveat, “and Star Brigade not being able to contain or destroy it. This will put lots of eyes on us.” He enjoyed Star Brigade’s autonomy, but deep down he knew it couldn’t last.
Sam scowled. “How would you have contained or destroyed a living space/time nexus?”
“We couldn’t,” Habraum stated. “If not for its help, Aut’ala would’ve won.” Just recalling the humbling power of the Zenith Point sent shivers down the Cerc’s back. “I’m just glad Mhir’ujiid and Taorr took that thing far from reach.”
Sam shook her head again, her high ponytail swinging back and forth. “No wonder Lily’s so screwed up.”
“I’ve debriefed her about that,” Habraum said. “I also mentioned the impending investigation into the soldier she accidently killed.” The Cerc would have done anything to take away Cortes’s anguish over Specialist Byzlar. He’d given reassuring words, but knew more would be needed in the coming weeks. Perhaps more than he was capable of as her superior. “Have you spoken with her?”
“I’m trying. She’s not talking.” Sam looked as pained as Habraum felt over the situation. “I’ll keep at it.”
That surprised Habraum, given Sam and Cortes’s closeness.
“Give her time,” Habraum resolved. “Cortes will come to you when she’s ready. She always does.”
Sam’s tight-lipped smile didn’t reach her eyes, which glanced at the floor. This led to an awkward silence—and not the first in this conversation. Their usual exchanges—the easy back-and-forth, the brisk shorthand, the laughs, the delicious tension—now felt stilted and choppy since CT-1 had returned. Their only physical contact since CT-1’s return had been last night, where Sam attacked him outside his quarters with a long embrace and an even longer kiss. Then she’d scurried off for CT-2’s cleanup mission. All thanks to that misunderstanding where I called her my best friend. Habraum had a plan to get them back on track and clear up any misconceptions on his feelings.
“How was it?” Sam asked, leaning forward. “Meeting another you?”
“Not as skittery after the initial shock,” Habraum replied with a smile. “I am an identical twin, remember?”
“Right.” Sam nodded.
“Apparently,” the Cerc leaned back and crossed his legs, “Al Abdullah met a female version of me and a male version of you.”
Sam’s humor curdled. “I am sorry about Khal’s behavior and any issues it caused. I spoke with him at length.”
Having received several of Sam’s t
ongue-lashings, and not the fun kind, Habraum actually pitied the lad. “He gets a verbal write-up this once. If that behavior happens again…”
“It won’t,” Sam promised.
“Good.” That satisfied Habraum’s concerns. It would be a pity to bench an operative as gifted as Khal Al Abdullah. But the Cerc was exhausted mulling over Faroor and this multiverse weirdness. From the rest of CT-1’s searches, there had been no evident alterations due to the Zenith Point. All the more reason to change the topic. “Again, good work on the Children of Earth. Seems like you attacked the right cornerstone.”
“It was a team effort.” Sam cocked her head to one side with the mischievous, lopsided grin that Habraum loved. “Along with some spy shit.”
He snorted out a laugh. “As expected.”
Sam then detailed “Loroorol’s” betrayal, as well as her and Lethe working with UComm Security Services on more comprehensive background checks on all Hollus Maddrone personnel. “It will take time but has to be done.”
“I’ll review the criteria before you deploy,” Habraum added. “Something like Loroorol can’t happen again.”
“Completely agree.”
Habraum leaned forward, switching topics again. “Dani’s okay?”
“That kid’s great.” Sam glowed anytime she spoke about Tharydane. “I’m searching for the Korvenites who rescued her. So far we found some transmat hub in the Conuropolis sewers, but no clues how to power it. We’ll stay on that.”
Habraum rolled his eyes. “Hopefully these Korvenites were friendlies.” No one needed a Battle of Terra Sollus redux.
“I took Tharyn to Yven Threya,” Sam blurted out.
Habraum’s mood brightened hearing that. Sam had mentioned this weeks ago. “How’d it go?”
“Ah-mazing,” Sam beamed. “Then she and I had a nice long talk.”
The way Sam phrased “talk” sounded rather loaded. “About?” the Cerc asked.
Sam gave him a pointed look, Habraum quickly understanding. “Oh. How much did you share?”
“My real first name, where I’m from on Old Earth, some stuff about my siblings. Very surface-level shit.”
Given the early stumbling blocks between Sam and Tharydane, this was music to Habraum’s ears. “It’s a step in the right direction, Sammie.”
Sam winked and grinned. “Knew you’d like that.”
Finally, Habraum mused. Their flow felt almost normal again. Best that he voiced his plans while things were loose and fuzzy. “Listen. When you return from a joint op with UniPol, let’s meet up tomorrow night at Hollusphere. Catch up for real.”
Sam frowned in confusion. “We’re catching up now.”
“I mean a face-to-face meet where you won’t run off prematurely,” Habraum explained. “Things have felt out of sync while I was on Faroor.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed, her tone hesitant and wary. “Guess it’s a date.”
“Absolutely.” Habraum watched her, a pang of longing in his chest. As usual, Sam blinked and looked away from his intense gaze. He missed stroking her silky skin, tasting her lips, exploring every inch of her shapely thighs. Habraum missed her, loved her. There was no resistance to his feelings now. Only that he wanted to say it all face-to-face tomorrow. And after that, he’d tell her everything about what he saw during the Beridaas Massacre.
Habraum then noticed Sam’s bare neck. “Where’s your heartknot?”
Sam looked up with a blank, uncomprehending look. “Oh.” She winced, clutching her throat. “Things have just been so crazy. I forgot to put it back on.”
Habraum stared at her. Before he could reply, an urgent chirp grabbed his attention. According to the shuttle naviconsole, his destination was a few macroms away.
“I’m almost at Jeremy’s grandparents’ house,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
Sam gave him a glowing look. “Yep. Give Jerm a kiss for me.” She waved both hands before her holoimage winked out.
The Cerc’s gaze was fixed on where she’d just sat. That necklace story was a lie. Sam was a convincing liar, but Habraum was equally good at spotting them. Ever since he’d given her that necklace, Sam removed it only for missions or training sessions.
“We’ll get everything sorted tomorrow,” the Cerc muttered to himself. Another thing had been nagging at the Cerc since Faroor. Something V’Korram had blurted out during their mission, about Khal ‘sexing’ his way onto CT-1? Habraum had heard a few coarse rumors about Sam’s working relationship with Khal, but never humored their veracity.
Maybe it’s time I did. Habraum shook his head wearily and switched to manual flight controls. His shuttle soared over a sweeping ocean of thick green treetops, reaching a cluster of homes at the edge.
Ten macroms later, Habraum approached an ultramodern home with bamboo-colored walls, one story and wide. While far from the Cerc’s favorite place, for his son’s sake, he wouldn’t cut him off from his late mother’s family.
Before Habraum could reach the door, it slid open as a small eight-year-old rocketed toward him. “DADDY!”
Habraum chuckled and spread his arms wide. “C’mere!” Jeremy pounced into his father’s arms and the two shared a hearty embrace. Abruptly, Habraum forgot about all his other troubles.
Seeing Jeremy, holding him, basking in his love was all that mattered.
Jeremy pulled back, hazel-grey eyes alight with joy. He grabbed his father’s cheeks with both hands. “I missed you!”
Habraum’s heart cracked to its very foundations. “I missed you too, sprout.” The Cerc placed his son back on the ground and took his hand. “Let’s grab your stuff and head back to Hollus, yeah?”
Chapter 56
The mood inside the dimly lit Pilot Pub was loose and rowdily festive as usual. But not for the normal reasons of a sporting event on the holoviews, or some AeroFleet pilot receiving a promotion or getting married or retiring.
With all eyes on the holoview floating just over the bar, everyone was celebrating an IPNN news stream report of all things.
News stream anchor Poe Fwoema was all business. “UniPol just conducted massive raids on several Children of Earth facilities all over the Mynar Sector, arresting over two thousand Children of Earth operatives in a coordinated sting with UIB and the Union Ministry of Justice.” The screen switched to footage of CoE operatives, sleeper agents, and soldiers in cuffs getting perp walked by UniPol and Justice Ministry officials. The CoE agents were all normal earthborn humans from a variety of backgrounds.
Sitting among Pilot Pub’s patrons, Sam bristled in disgust. “Good fucking riddance.” Her mood brightened when the holoview displayed gorgeous shots of UComm vehicles leveling several CoE headquarters all across the Mynar Sector in a hail of bombardments.
Pilot Pub’s regulars erupted louder, having zero tolerance for xenophobes.
“We did that!” Sam exclaimed over deafening cheers. She reclined in her seat, wearing a loose white t-shirt and blue denims, grinning from ear to ear.
Star Brigade had lit the spark. Now, thanks to the data she gave D’Sake, the Children of Earth’s foundations had been severely crippled. Whether this xenophobic murder conglomerate would survive, Sam didn’t know. The CoE’s many mysterious donors still lurked in the shadows. Europa’s data drops had presented threads to these darker forces.
And I’ll keep pulling until all the threads are unraveled. Sam smiled at her two companions for tonight’s post-mission celebration in a small corner booth.
Bevrolor sat across from Sam, built like a boulder with bouncing neon-green curls. The Nubrideen’s squashed face and three red eyes beamed. Solrao, long-limbed with smooth orange segmented skin, sat beside Sam. The Ibrisian seemed in good spirits despite all the chaos of her Faroor mission.
The three women actively nursed their drinks, having already downed a few. Tonight’s group should have been larger. Addison Raichoudry had stayed for one drink, aloof and humorless the whole time, before taking her leave. Baby steps, Sam reminded herself w
ith a grim smile. The delightful GiGi Gonzales had to decline due to more pressing engagements. Sam completely understood. They’d chat tomorrow about tonight’s “engagement.”
In hindsight, Sam preferred the smaller gathering. She raised her glass of mead exuberantly. “To Star Brigade’s continued success!”
“To Star Brigade’s continued success,” the others echoed. All three took long gulps of their drinks. Solrao kept gulping until her glass was drained, slamming it down. The Ibrisian swayed in her seat, smacking her lips loudly.
“Easy, Solrao.” Sam leaned in, catching the pilot’s shoulder to steady her. “The night’s still young.”
“Night’s over somewhere in Union Space. Gotta keep up!” she slurred, a smile plastered on her face. By Solrao’s heavy eyelids, Sam sensed her smile wasn’t the only thing that was plastered. The Ibrisian rowdily signaled a floating servermech for another drink.
Sam and Bevrolor exchanged worried looks. The Faroor mission clearly did a number on her. Maybe Solrao getting sloppy was a positive. A drunk tongue was usually an honest tongue.
Thankfully, Bevrolor changed the subject. “Bevrolor was skeptical when you chose this one as your XO,” she began in that Nubrideen third-person speech pattern. “But this mission convinced this one the wait for combat-team placement was worth it.”
Sam was genuinely touched by the compliment. “Agreed.” Three years ago, she had leapfrogged over Bevrolor to become XO for Habraum’s first CT. The Nubrideen hadn’t been ready, which had essentially ended their friendship. “It’s taken us a while to get back here, Bev. And I couldn’t feel more honored to have you as my second-in-command.” The two women clinked glasses and drained the rest of their drinks.