by C. C. Ekeke
The scene soon worsened; the beefy soldier bent the Farooqua’s ragdoll body over the interrogation table, his helper on the other end grabbing her hands to hold her steady. She struggled feebly but was trapped, and the larger Ttaunz drove his shock baton into her lower back. Her scrawny body convulsed from the shock, and she began frothing at the mouth.
For Habraum, her relentless agony was an unwelcome trip down memory lane. His mind flashed back to years ago, to his capture during the Ferronos Sector War and torture by the Cybernarr Technoarchy—Marguliese’s race.
Habraum whirled around, eyeing his teammate. “Update?”
The Cybernarr gazed back. “Got it.” She had the girl’s location.
With that, the pair exited the room without another word. Outside, the Cerc studied the hallway, insuring it was clear before signaling for Marguliese.
The Cybernarr pressed her hand against the wall. “Hold onto me,” she ordered.
Habraum put both hands around her slender waist, hearing the familiar digitized noise of her transmatting. Rings of sizzling white moved up and down around them, coalescing at their middles, washing away the surrounding corridor into blinding nothingness for a fleeting nanoclic of time. The rings moved up and down again, meeting at Habraum and Marguliese’s waists, suddenly transmatting them both to another hallway altogether. This corridor was even more sterile than the last, and many floors deeper. Magnasterium’s private prison, in other words. A Ttaunz officer trudging down the passage yelped at the sight of them.
Habraum ignored him and turned to the door he and the Cybernarr appeared next to. “This one?”
She nodded. The Cerc swept the hallway with his eyes. “Sensors and holovids are handled?”
Marguliese raised both eyebrows, seemingly insulted. He took that as a yes. She continued, “I also sent Vertex and Khrome access to the interrogation footage with instructions on storing on Phaeton’s data drives.”
Habraum offered her a quick smile. “Brilliant.”
“Excuse me!” The Ttaunz guard marched toward them. “You are in a restricted area.”
Marguliese wheeled around on him, statuesque and imposing. “According to who?”
Her frigid glare stopped the Ttaunz in his tracks. He sputtered and bolted in the opposite direction.
The Cybernarr eyed his retreat until he disappeared around a nearby corner. “He will notify his superiors, Habraum,” Marguliese warned, but no worry lived in her mechanized tone.
Habraum scowled. “Do I look like I care?” He raised both glowing fists, the right arm drawn back.
Marguliese watched her superior with blank curiosity. “It would be simpler if I open it—” she began. Habraum shook his head and fired off bright crimson blasts of biokinetic energy from his fists. Immediately, the door buckled inward under the continuous, concussive force. Alarms blared deafeningly. Habraum ignored them.
Have to get to that Farooqua before… He would not entertain what might happen to that girl.
Finally, the door to the interrogation cell flew off its hinges with a hollow clang. Habraum made out a small and grimy interior. The two Ttaunz inside looked up in surprise. The scrawnier one holding the Farooqua prisoner’s arms immediately let her go, as if suddenly they’d grown white-hot. The taller, heftier Ttaunz reared up to his full height. “What in the three hells?” he barked angrily.
Habraum marched straight for the scrawny Ttaunz raising his hands pleadingly. “Wait…No—” The Cerc grabbed at his collar roughly, lifted him up with one arm, and with a near animalistic growling, hurled the Ttaunz headfirst into the wall. His face smacked hard into the ferroment. He slumped limply to the floor, moaning.
The brawnier TDF soldier whipped out his sidearm to take aim…
…until Marguliese rushed in. Her left arm was a blur of violence, smacking the pulse pistol from the Ttaunz’s grasp and burying a fist into his stomach to double her larger opponent over. Not done yet, Marguliese yanked his braided hair to pull him up, and then slammed his head viciously on the table before them.
The Ttaunz’s head dented the table, and he flopped back in a cross-eyed heap.
Habraum grabbed at his still conscious victim again, drawing his fist back to solve that problem.
“I HAD NO CHOICE!” the lanky Ttaunz screeched. “He beat me when I refused to help!”
Habraum then got a good look at his prey and recoiled. The Ttaunz’s delicate face already sported several bruises. He raised hands to cover his face, shaking all over. “Minister Haemekk would have punished me, too!”
Habraum swallowed a pang of guilt and released him. Without a second thought, the Ttaunz scrambled up and darted from the room. The Cerc looked then to the Farooqua girl. She had dragged herself into a corner during the melee, a trail of pinkish blood smeared in her wake. She cowered in a ball, each breath a ragged sob.
Habraum and Marguliese approached her tentatively. The air in this room stank of sweat and stale air.
“Mhir’ujiid?” Habraum tried out the name experimentally. No reaction. The sobs continued shaking the girl’s ropey little body to a near violent degree. She lay naked, her gold-pelted skin covered in pinkish blood, nasty bruises, and circular burns from the shock baton. Marguliese slipped out of the top portion of her dark grey catsuit, revealing a black tank top and her cybernetic arm underneath. She moved to drape her top over the naked Farooqua prisoner. Mhir’ujiid jerked away in terror.
“Maggie just wants to cover you up.” Habraum knelt before her carefully. “We’re Star Brigade.”
His words relaxed the Farooqua enough for Marguliese to cautiously cover her. Mhir’ujiid lowered both hands from her face to get a good look at her rescuers. Her large bug-like eyes flicked from one Brigadier to the other before settling on Habraum in utter shock.
Something was unnervingly familiar about how she stared at him. “Mhir’ujiid, my name is—”
“Nwosu!” the Farooqua blurted out hoarsely in fluent Standard. “Hero of the Ferronos Sector War…here??” She went on, “I learned about you…from school in the city-states!”
Habraum gaped, understanding now why her expression was so familiar. Years ago, after his release at the end of the Ferronos Sector War, Habraum had received this same star-struck expression from strangers when out in public. More memories spilled forth, none that he had any use for right now.
“That’s me.” Habraum forced on a smile, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re here to rescue you.” Mhir’ujiid winced from his touch on her injuries, but didn’t pull away. Hope blossomed on her bruised face.
Marguliese eyed the Cerc with subtle curiosity. “Even in rural Faroor, you are mildly famous.”
Habraum shot her an irrate glance as she helped the Farooqua girl up.
“I need…out of here,” Mhir’ujiid wheezed. “The Ghebrekh captured someone dear to me. Must…find him.”
“Zojje,” Marguliese stated, a logical inference given the Farooqua’s renowned respect for the telepathic race.
“No.” Mhir’ujiid frowned. “Taorr.” Seeing Habraum and Marguliese’s surprised reactions, she explained further, “He is a close friend.”
“We’re going to get him back,” Habraum assured her, not caring to guess how this Farooqua knew the son of Faroor’s Viceroy. The Cerc realized he just might have made a liar of himself if Taorr was already dead, but seeing the fear leave Mhir’ujiid’s face was enough to quell that worry for now.
As he lifted the Farooqua to her feet, both the girl’s legs turned to spaghetti within moments. Habraum caught her before she completely collapsed back to the floor.
Somewhere beneath the endless blare of alarms, Habraum heard groaning. The Ttaunz whom Marguliese had knocked out began to stir. Mhir’ujiid gaped at him, then strove with all her waned strength to back away.
“What is it, Mhir’ujiid? Habraum asked, noting her reaction. “What else did he do to you?” She leaned to Habraum and whispered in his ear, detailing in brutal specifics her ordeal. Her
imprisonment and all she had endured had been infinitely worse than he could conceive.
The brawny Ttaunz stood up slowly, using the table for support. His forehead, which Marguliese had artfully introduced to that same table, now displayed a huge, red welt across it.
“That is my prisoner.” The Ttaunz recovered his pulse pistol and pointed it at Habraum. “Now move—”
Habraum charged forward and grabbed the Ttaunz’s pistol, yanking it away before the guard could squeeze off a shot. Still, Mhir’ujiid winced despite Marguliese shielding her.
The Ttaunz raised his other fist to hit Habraum, and ate a sharp back elbow to the throat for his troubles. He dropped to all fours, gagging and clutching his throat.
“You call yourself a soldier?” Habraum nearly choked on his rage. The Ttaunz, still gasping for air, couldn’t respond. Habraum grabbed the Ttaunz’s beefy right arm and pinned it to the table.
The Cerc didn’t speak. He raised the sidearm and swung the butt down with all his strength, all his hate.
The smack on the Ttaunz’s forearm was drowned out quickly by his own shriek. He flailed about to pull away, but nothing could pry his arm out of Habraum’s vise-like grip.
The Cerc smashed the gun on the Ttaunz’s forearm again, and again, and again—each blow faster, harder than before. In this moment, Habraum wasn’t a Star Brigade combat team leader or a father, losing himself in his hatred. And the sweet abandon felt so good.
KRK-KREK! There was a muffled and wet crack. The Ttaunz’s roar of pain flooded the air, sounding like a dying beast. Mhir’ujiid stared in horror as she clung to Marguliese, a slow smile curling on her lips.
The Cybernarr watched, not moving to intervene.
Seeing this jarred Habraum out of his fury. Sky Father’s cock! The Cerc’s actions hit at full speed and he flung the pulse pistol away like it was rotted fruit. His shrieking victim slid off the table cradling his crushed limb.
Habraum trembled visibly from head to toe, watching the Ttaunz writhing on the ground holding the mangled roll of meat that used to be his forearm. The Ttaunz deserved worse, and Habraum looked away lest the temptation to inflict more punishment overtook him again.
Marguliese’s eyes never left Habraum as she stood up. “I’ll presume that was necessary.”
The Cerc glared at her. “We’re leaving,” he ordered. The Farooqua girl still couldn’t stand, so Habraum hoisted her up in his arms. She weighted almost nothing. He and Marguliese turned to exit the room—
“HALT!”
At least ten Ttaunz guards suddenly appeared beyond the doorway. Covered in heavy, neo-Romanic-looking armor with those stupid sunburst helmets, the guards aimed spear-like pulse staves at Habraum and Marguliese. From the Cerc’s vantage point, everything outside the cell door looked discolored with an oddly bluish hue.
The Ttaunz in charge barked out an order. “Drop the Farooqua and this forcefield now!”
Habraum smirked. Marguliese was using her ability to control nearby technology to activate the room’s forcefield, which explained the tinge of blue filling the doorway.
“I estimated such a response from the TDF,” the Cybernarr muttered.
“Good estimation.” The Cerc could feel Mhir’ujiid’s bony body shaking with terror against his. “It’ll be fine, lass,” Habraum spoke calmly into Mhir’ujiid’s ear.
The Ttaunz soldiers’ leader barked out another command, “By order of the Supremacy, drop the forcefield, and remand custody of the prisoner to us. This is your final warning.”
The soldiers edged closer. Their pulse staves hummed with crackling golden energy begging for release.
Habraum glared back, calm on the surface. Mhir’ujiid buried her face in his neck.
“Should I—” Marguliese began, fixed on the Ttaunz.
“No.” He shook his head, knowing she wanted to transmat away. After his actions today, the Cerc had to try diplomacy. “Mhir’ujiid is under UComm protection, and returning to our ship.” Well, aggressive diplomacy.
This sent a ripple of haughty chuckles through the Ttaunz contingent.
“Because if you don’t let us pass,” Habraum continued, still unflustered, “how will your Defense Minister boss explain why TDF officers attacked two UComm officers?”
The lead Ttaunz soldier scoffed. “We have not even pulled a trigger.”
“He tried,” Marguliese nodded at the sobbing Ttaunz behind her, “hence his current state.”
“We have access to your archives,” Habraum dared with blunt menace, “which I’m sure detail more Farooqua torture.” The alarms finally stopped ringing, just as all that Ttaunz bravado deflated from these soldiers. “Try ‘taking us into custody,’” he concluded, “see how that ends up.”
Everyone knew UComm authority trumped planetary military. Therefore, the lead guard lowered his pulse stave. “Stand down,” he commanded his subordinates, who lowered their weapons.
Habraum nodded toward the Cybernarr. Her left eye flashed a jagged blue starburst, and the entry’s bluish tinge vanished. Habraum exited first, with Marguliese following. The soldiers stood motionless, clutching their staves and glaring at them in muted loathing. All the while, Mhir’ujiid watched the Cybernarr curiously.
“Yes, child?” Marguliese asked without making eye contact.
The Farooqua gulped. “You look like…a cyborg, but you don’t move like one.”
Habraum and Marguliese exchanged a glance. The Cybernarr, resembling a porcelain sculpture with golden skin, eyed the Farooqua so dispassionately that Mhir’ujiid grew fidgety. Once away from the Ttaunz, Marguliese spoke, “I am not from around here.”
Under less somber circumstances, Habraum would have laughed. Now, all he could offer was a grim half-smile. Mhir’ujiid looked utterly confused. She opened her mouth to inquire further.
“Enough,” Marguliese’s tone discouraged further dialogue, and they continued for the nearest translifter.
Habraum couldn’t think past his recklessness today, especially the unchecked violence in Mhir’ujiid’s defense… Rule-breaking was more Sam’s wheelhouse. But seeing the torture just triggered something ugly…
He turned to Marguliese. “How come…you didn’t stop me back there?” Habraum asked quietly.
For an instant, Marguliese’s impassive features softened. “That Ttaunz attacked you, and suffered the consequences.” Obviously she knew the real reason, having witnessed it years ago. But the Cybernarr had the decorum to say nothing. For that, Habraum was grateful. The trio remained silent through the rest of the translifter ride, all the way back to the Phaeton.
Chapter 25
The lightning storms had finally subsided, but Liliana felt no safer than before.
For several orvs, military transports and local HazMat hover-vehicles briskly crisscrossed the air to clean up as much structural damage in the city-state as possible.
Attending to trauma victims took Lily’s mind off Thasque’s devastation and that other…strange occurrence where everything briefly paused except her and Captain Nwosu. She had seen something else, hovering at the edge of her memory—just out of reach. Could she explain that to anyone without sounding space-crazed?
Another welcome diversion was that Aesonite PLADECO medic, also assigned to help in downtown Thasque. The two quickly formed an easy rapport as he kept lobbing questions about her xenotrophin research while they worked. Liliana answered each one happily. Having her own fanboy was weird, but amusing.
Time flew, and soon the skies over Faroor’s largest city-state resembled a sea of dark-red velvet flecked by gleaming diamonds. By the time a UComm shuttlecraft picked her up to head for Magnasterium, Lily realized too late she didn’t even know the Aesonite’s name.
Onboard, Lily changed out of her grimy, blood-caked field uniform into a dark, long-sleeved tee and khaki cargos. A message from Solrao enroute to Magnasterium told her about the Phaeton’s location in Hangar Bay 7R. Standing in a sea of floating mines would be more welcoming, Lily fr
etted after arriving.
Several TDF soldiers, in head-to-toe dark-grey armor and sunburst helmets, encircled the Star Brigade cruiser on all sides. They all glowered her way, looking too eager to use the pulse rifles hefted atop their shoulders.
The doctor’s heart leaped into her throat. What happened while I was gone? On the outside, Lily looked straight ahead and continued what felt like a death march. Once near the Phaeton’s entry ramp, she messaged Solrao via wristcom. Soon a white light swept her away to safety.
Once inside the Phaeton’s familiar corridors, Lily’s relief was dizzying. As was hearing Captain Nwosu’s voice booming from the nearby entry to Phaeton’s War Room. She strode quickly into a wide and rounded room with a hefty table in the center, holoscreens flashing along the walls. All of CT-1 sat around the room. Captain Nwosu addressed the room at the table’s head in a dark-green, long-sleeved tee and black slacks. The other Brigadiers wore plain clothes, also.
Nwosu’s gaze landed on her from across the room. “Perfect timing,” he greeted. “Sit.”
All heads turned. Lily blinked. “Uhm—sure.” The attention and those intense eyes were staggering.
The Captain turned back to his audience, and her thoughts untangled. How does he do that? The doctor slid in next to Khrome and glanced around the room, spotting four unfamiliar beings.
The most obvious was a skinny Farooqua girl with a shortened green mohawk and shiny bug-like eyes seated next to Marguliese. The doctor then assessed the trio in the back.
By their fatigues they looked like PLADECO: a stern-faced Nnaxan, a bull-necked Nirandian with a snowy pelt and cloven hands, a granite-skinned Aesonite grinning at her...
Lily did a double take—the PLADECO medic from downtown Thasque, still in his grimy, bloodstained uniform. She wanly smiled back, feeling her skin prickle with goosebumps. Why are they here?
“…we have three officers from the 206th Combat Group of the PLADECO TerraTroopers, who will provide needed ground support. Sergeant Fiyan, Corporal Uyull, Specialist Byzlar.” Nwosu’s voice intruded on Lily’s musings. But it was never hard for her to get caught up in Nwosu’s speeches. The Captain was introducing the PLADECO officers, who exchanged quick greetings with the Star Brigadiers.