by C. C. Ekeke
“I had always been curious about where the Korvenites were moved from Terra Sollus after the Earth Holocaust. Why the Union seemingly wiped them out of the public eye, unless it needed a cheap ratings pop for those annual Earth news stream specials and holodocumentaries? We get it. Twelve Korvenites were to blame for destroying Earth, but why punish a whole race for the sins of a few?
“With every inquiry, I always heard the Korvenites were happy and safe,” Sam frowned and shook her head vigorously. “But after the Korvenite Independence Front’s first attacks some years back, I did some digging through less conventional channels, and found footage of Korvenites in the facilities.”
Sam idly wrung her hands, glancing away to compose herself. “I couldn’t believe the atrocious living conditions or the work the Korvenites were subjected to. So I got the access I needed to find out more.”
Marguliese observed her with narrowed eyes. “You received access without repercussions?”
“No, I snuck in on a food transport,” Sam snapped impatiently, as if the answer was obvious. “Once I’d seen the worst of the camps, I made my surveillance known to Union Command.”
Habraum frowned, already guessing how that meeting went. “I’m guessing no one gave a fekt?”
“Or believed you?” Khrome chimed in.
“Pick one,” Sam said dryly. “Only Admiral Hollienurax really was appalled by what I showed him. He gave me any aid I needed to take action at once, but in secret.”
“So how does he factor in?” Khrome asked, looking at V’Korram.
“I’ve brought V’Korram along for a few months now, whenever I visit any Protectorate.” Sam allowed herself an impish grin. “He’s a great intimidator when asked.”
Habraum heard Liliana mutter, “No one has to ask.”
“Whenever V’Korram and I go to the Protectorates, the administrators believe we report directly to the Chouncilor, but Bogosian only cares that they keep the Korvenites out of sight and out of mind.”
“Thisss isss a foolish risssk,” Honaa hissed balefully. “What if you get caught?”
Sam, of course, had already tuned out Honaa’s berating. “Hollienurax gave us access IDs to avoid discovery. We report inappropriate Protectorate behavior to him. Because of how covert and isolated their existences are, Protectorates have lots of autonomy. They only really get orders from UComm Starbase Operations about transferring slaves, or in the case of Alorum’s Light, mineral ore being processed.”
In his gut, Habraum cared little about involving Star Brigade in Korvenite dealings, beyond stopping the KIF. He was just a soldier leading a team in safeguarding the Galactic Union. Jennica wouldn’t have let me scurry behind that pretext. Neither did Sam, this time leading by example. The Cerc shook his head in wonder at his old friend’s daring. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“And I never will,” Sam casually shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“As is your copious modesty,” Marguliese deadpanned. Sam ignored her.
“Those slaves in the cargo bay were in better form than most we’ve seen,” V’Korram said from near the ship’s sensor array. His green-flecked eyes gleamed. “It’ll be worse down on Alorum’s Light.”
Not much talking was heard for the rest of the almost three-orv trip. Habraum zoned out on the blurred starry lines, thinking of how to make up his long absence these last few days to Jeremy. But he kept coming back to the dead-eyed gazes of the Korvenites in their cargo bay.
Before he knew it, Honaa announced, “Captain, we’ve here. Breaking from hyperssspace in two macromsss.” Blue streaks of swirling light cut back into individual stars and soon after, the Phaeton reverted back into realspace. In front of them on the viewscreen was Alorum, the last planet in the Rhyne System. Honaa hissed contemptuously from the helm. “Well, itsss cccertainly no Cantalessse.”
No one disputed that fact. Alorum’s appearance was a total departure from the vibrant colors of Zeid, Ipsis or Terra Sollus, resembling a larger, more cratered Luna, Old Earth’s moon. Habraum found it hard to believe that any facility could be on this lifeless sphere of jagged grey rock. The Merrivel Nebula’s golden-pink glow and Rhyne’s faraway light barely distinguished Alorum’s day and night sides.
“Take us just below the equator, near the day and night side border,” Sam said.
Honaa accelerated and dipped the Phaeton over the thin rings of asteroids and cosmic dust encircling the planet. Hoary wrinkles of peaks and craters grew more defined as the Phaeton closed in on Alorum’s surface, along with numerous specks of gleaming metal situated above the atmosphere. Spacecomm spires and planetary shield orbs, Habraum realized, then caught a sight that gave him pause.
The colossal, multi-cylindrical form of a Century-Class UComm Hammerjack came cruising around from Alorum’s night side, its sable hull only visible due to the faint reflection of the Merrivel Nebula. The numerous bright red weapon ports dotting the ship, primed to fire, needed no such reflection.
Habraum didn’t flinch, but his heartbeat quickened considerably. Tyris made a startled noise like hissing steam. Marguliese stood up quickly, glaring a hole into the viewscreen. Sam put up a staying hand. “Take a breath. It’s just standard procedure.” She turned to Habraum as her console chirped with an incoming message. “They’re hailing.”
“Send it through,” he nodded curtly.
“This is UComm AeroFleet Warship, Draconis. State identity and access code.”
Habraum inhaled with a tremor of anxiety, never letting it show on the outside. “This is UComm JSOG-Phaeton, I am Captain Habraum Nwosu of the Specialized Tactical Assault and Reconnaissance Brigade, requesting permission to transport Korvenites and my team down to Alorum’s Light. Sending access codes.” Several moments followed after Sam transmitted the access codes as Draconis verified.
“Permission granted. Proceed when ready.”
The Korvenites were transmatted down first. Then Star Brigade prepared to transport to the surface.
“Take only what you need,” Sam warned, as Liliana began packing her portable medical bag. “It’s just more things they’ll check when we get to the surface.”
“V’Korram,” Habraum moved toward the Kintarian sitting at the Ops station. “Stay here on the Phaeton and watch for any trouble.”
As he expected, V’Korram was looking surly about the order. But the recon still nodded dutifully. “Yes, Captain.” The Kintarian did a perfunctory feline stretch before padding off toward the helm.
Habraum looked after him and then did a quick sweep of his combat team. “Alright then.”
Less than five macroms later, the team rematerialized inside the Protectorate Base’s spherical transmat room, a couple hundred metrids below Alorum’s surface. The first thing Habraum noticed was a line of seven towering, dark-crimson Gilgamech security guards, another combat robot creation of Aza-Midas Industries. Behind them, a rather gangly, duck-billed Ciphereen stood waiting near the wall. The UComm Starbase Operations uniform fit snuggly on his hyper lean physique.
“Commander D’Urso, this visit is unexpected,” he shrilled with a notably insincere voice. His runny eyes took in Habraum and the others. “If I had known you were coming.”
“You’re not supposed to know, Thal’Kag. Remember?” Sam strode past the Ciphereen as if he was part of the wall. Habraum motioned the others Brigadiers off the transmat, the seven Gilgamechs flanked CT-1 as they walked.
“Oh-oh, of course not.” The Director nervously wrung his hands. “We wouldn’t want the Chouncilor to be disappointed in our progress here.” Thal’Kag brandished a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Habraum curled his lip in disgust. The more he heard this Thal’Kag talk, the more he disliked him.
“That’s right. We’re the Chouncilor’s eyes!” Khrome flexed his massive arms menacingly. Thal’Kag literally squeaked in fright. Sam snorted down a laugh.
Habraum and Honaa both frowned at the Thulican, who innocently smiled back.
“I’ll show you o
ur facilities,” Thal’Kag walked forward, keeping a wary eye on Khrome.
The corridors of Alorum’s Light were hewn of pale silver metals, pristine and sterile, much like a Medcenter’s psych ward. Every wall, console and viewport in the architecture was built in an angular way devoid of softness or warmth. Liliana looked very uncomfortable, arms hugged around her svelte frame, keeping her gaze straight ahead. Marguliese on the other hand strode with her normal regal bearing, eyes darting about the facility in swift, methodical sweeps.
Within five macroms of their tour, Habraum had completely tuned out the repetitive design of the halls. It all looked the same to him. And if he paid any more attention to Thal’Kag’s shrill voice, he might throttle him. The group had stopped near a massive pair of triangular viewports which gave full view to Alorum’s outer regions. Habraum took a long look outward, liking it even less than where he was.
Dark churning billows veiled the heavens above Alorum, although a few thin cracks of light pierced through here and there. Fitting, Habraum mused. Mountain ranges resembled rows of jagged thorns, some higher peaks thrust up into the leaden skies. Beyond the mountains and valleys lay plains of rock-strewn wasteland, adding to the barefaced lifelessness and Habraum’s desire to leave Alorum as soon as possible.
“Mines,” Tyris whispered.
Habraum eyed the Tanoeen, puzzled. “Sorry?”
“Out there,” Tyris jabbed an icicle-like finger at the basin outside. Like tiny asteroid craters, several pockmarks speckled across the stony valleys. Each burned in a neon-blue glow, evident even from faraway. The ones closest to Alorum’s Light had circular metal casings inside. “Mines.”
“Yes, yes. The mines.” Thal’Kag walked over in a gangly strut. “We exhume thaelarite for the Union Command. There are almost two hundred mines around this Protectorate.”
“I ssstill don’t sssee what this hasss to do with Korvenite living conditionsss,” Honaa hissed impatiently, his ribbed tail quivering to emphasize his sentiment.
“Almost there, Honaa.” Sam took both Habraum and Tyris by the arms and drew them away from the viewports. “You’ll see what their living conditions are like. Thal’Kag?”
The Director paused in his tour to face Sam. “Yes, Commander?”
“Take us inside one of the mines,” she ordered.
Thal’Kag’s eyes bulged to the size of saucers. “Wh-wha—!” He quickly composed himself. “I’m afraid I can’t, Commander D’Urso. It is Protectorate policy. You and your Kintarian colleague were the exception. But these new associates of yours?” He gave Habraum and the other Brigadiers a dark look.
“Do I need to ask twice, Thal’Kag?” Sam asked. The smile playing across her lips wasn’t the usual half-smirk, but one of caustic sweetness, a clearly veiled threat.
“Not at all,” Thal’Kag warbled, struggling to maintain his plastic, duck-billed smile. “This way.”
Before long, Star Brigade had boarded a wide translifter into Alorum’s shadowy depths without the Gilgamechs. Each time the translifter passed another level, rings of blue light shot upward and past them outside, striking an eerie green accord with the translifter’s halolights. Thal’Kag continued to shrill all the way down, as he described the state-of-the-art workmanship that went into this lowering structure.
“…not even a subatomic blast could damage this infrastructure. It’s true and tested!” Thal’Kag grinned, though beads of milky sweat rolled down his bulbous head. If he wasn’t so sniveling or possessed such an irksome voice, Habraum might have felt sorry for him. “Once we get to the mines—.”
“We’re here.” Sam strode out of the translifter in a snappish manner. Habraum slowly followed, studying his team temperament. Honaa, Khrome and Tyris all looked on aloofly. Marguliese observed with her usual ice-cold stare. Liliana wore her discomfort like a heavy cloak, hanging at the rear.
The first thing Habraum noticed was how thaelarite dust hung in the air, giving the mine a sparkling blue haze. Yet the stench, mixed with the odor of unwashed bodies, reeked like sour yosk milk. Six armed Galdorian and earthborn security guards awaited them, Habraum inhaled deeply and continued on.
A factory stood out among the spiky embankments of rock below, with vast arrangements of conveyor belts and hammering compressors on either side of the forcefielded walkway. Hundreds of Korvenites lined up, slicing away at a tall thaelarite formation with electricutters and peeling it off in sheets. A rectangular trough floated in front of each Korvenite to catch all the thaelarite filings.
When a trough filled up, the Korvenite would wait while it soared toward the conveyor belts. The thaelarite sheets were then pressed into a liquid state and further processed.
Tyris’s cobalt eyes narrowed in befuddlement. “Why don’t they just use—?”
“Drilling machines?” Sam answered. “That would be the rational answer, huh?”
Thal’Kag gave her a flustered look before speaking. “The bradawl mechanoids are several hundred metrids underground and used on Alorum to excavate the bigger ores of normal thaelarite with denser composition. But this is a more fragile isotope, thaelarium silicate.” He pointed at the walls where the Korvenites mined. “Unlike the regular thaelarite used in many forms of propulsion fuel, thaelarium silicate has other important functions.”
Khrome let out a clanking laugh. “Because plasteel polish and aphrodisiacs are crucial functions?”
“You’re greybricking me,” Habraum spat.
Khrome shook his flat-topped head. “Nope.”
“You forgot one other function, Khrome,” Sam added. “This harsh labor essentially keeps the Korvenites out of the UComm officers’ hair. Isn’t that right, boys?” She turned around briefly to regard all the UComm officers present with the sweetest fake smile. They responded with murderous glares.
Habraum gaped as countless skeletal, filthy Korvenites labored away. In the middle of the lineup, a male Korvenite, exhausted like the rest, had a slip of the wrist with his electricutter. His thaelarite slipped off the trough and shattered on the ground. Habraum saw terror filling his sunken sockets. Instantly, a spherical sable mechanoid swept down. One blinding flash later and Habraum saw the Korvenite on his back, shrieking like an animal and clutching at his chest. Khrome’s jaw dropped. Liliana slapped a horrified hand over her mouth. Habraum instinctively flinched. Eight years gone, and still the sights and sounds of torture took him back to those agonizing months in the Technoarchy’s grasp.
“No spillage.” The sphere mech ordered, hovering menacingly. It shimmered and prepped for another neuroelectric bolt for the cowering Korvenite. The resultant scream bounced off the mine’s walls, ringing in Habraum’s ears. He cringed again. The other Korvenites didn’t. Anyone could see by their plentiful scars that they would get the same punishment if they stopped to intervene.
Steeling himself, Habraum spun around on a petrified Thal’Kag. “Why aren’t you stopping this?”
Sam seized Thal’Kag roughly by the arm. “You were supposed to get rid of those.”
“Y-you don’t understand,” Thal’Kag whimpered. It was sad to see a grown male of any race blubber like a newborn. “The Korvenites’ production quotas dropped alarmingly when we got rid of them two weeks ago. They were getting lax, and I had pressure from Union Command for more thaelarite.”
“And twelve-orv shifts, with only half-an-orv breaks will up that number?” Sam barked.
“I can tone down their reaction, but I can’t dispose of them,” Thal’Kag overrode her, his voice shriller than ever. “You don’t have Union Command demanding more and more thaelarite! Now with the Union-Imperium Trade merger, even the Kedri inquire now! Surely the Chouncilor can understand that.”
“Samantha.” Honaa placed a scaly hand on her shoulder, which she angrily shook off.
Marguliese stepped in front of a fuming Sam. “If those mechanoids are a necessity, then they must be altered to an acceptable setting.” For once the Cybernarr’s detached tone was welcome. Thal’Kag goggl
ed at Marguliese as if never seen anything like her. He nodded, but avoided her unblinking gaze.
“How soon can it be done?” Habraum’s eyes hadn’t left the fallen Korvenite, who had thankfully pulled himself up, reclaimed his electricutter and resumed work.
“Now, in fact,” the Ciphereen then began speaking into his wristcom with murmured tones.
“There’s at least ten more mines like this. Come on. We haven’t seen the residences yet,” Sam marched down the walkway. The others followed, flanked by security guards. Habraum stayed rooted in place, still looking down at the labor procession. The sphere mechs hovered higher in the air and buzzed around the slaves. The Galactic Union employs slaves. The Cerc couldn’t believe his own eyes.
Another Korvenite, a female, was cutting rather lethargically. A sphere mech swooped closer and warned, “Speed up labor, 005587.” Right away, the female straightened and quickened her cutting. The sphere mech hung behind a few moments longer, before darting upward to continue its sweeps.
They don’t even have names? The thought turned Habraum’s stomach.
“Habraum,” a voice said. Habraum tore his eyes away with great effort. Marguliese stood in the pathway, waiting for him. He glanced one last time at the factory, before following her.
Behind lofty titanium gates at the pathway’s end lay an open spread of cold and rocky canyons. It was much like Alorum’s surface, but better lit through artificial starlight from the canyon ceiling.
Frosty drafts bit at Habraum’s cheeks upon entering the canyon. Instantly, he felt his uniform’s heating system kick in. In the ceilings high above, Habraum spied the glowing dots of cannon turrets, undoubtedly installed to execute any Korvenite escape attempt. Rows of what looked like countless plasteel boxes lined the canyon like a colorless cornfield, each evenly spaced from each other.