Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3)

by C. C. Ekeke

  “Moreover,” Marguliese added, her voice flat and mechanized, “the Ttaunz continuously use Ghuj’aega and his Ghebrekh as an excuse to push the Farooqua off their lands.”

  Fiyan made an impatient clicking sound. “Of course you’d back his play, Marguliese,” the sergeant sniped. “How are your actions any different from how the Ttaunz treat the Farooqua?”

  Before Habraum could reply, Mhir’ujiid chimed in, “Before the TDF captured me, I witnessed a small village of Farooqua they laid waste to, all innocents. This was not the first time and it won’t be the last. Any surviving Farooqua that weren’t part of the Ghebrekh before will clamor to join now.”

  Fiyan’s expression fell. “But that doesn’t mean we should—”

  “But nothing,” Habraum interrupted, his voice sharp. “Our superiors made Star Brigade lead on this mission, Fiyan. You don’t like that, we’ll return to Thasque and get someone who can follow orders.”

  The Nnaxan’s cartridge was empty. “You’re right.” She nodded in stiff consent, her craniowhisks rigid. “We’ll do things your way. But if your way doesn’t work, we should reconsider my suggestion.”

  Habraum didn’t miss the warning in those words. Why is it always a pissing match with every external division? The proximity alarms sounded at that moment, a welcome respite.

  He, Marguliese, and Fiyan stood up. The other Brigadiers snapped to attention from whatever they had been doing. Khal bolted to his comm station and fired up its corresponding console.

  Mhir’ujiid, startled by the alarm and everyone’s sudden movements, turned and stared out the transport’s viewscreen ahead. Habraum couldn’t help but smile at her wonder, knowing exactly why.

  Before them lay a measureless stretch of stony grey and azure earth pocked with deep sinkholes, numerous depressions that dropped sharply for several hundred miles into the earth. Some boasted circumferences wider than some small city-states. In fact, several of these sinkholes provided homes for the Gajj tribe within the jagged grey folds of their cliff faces. A sharp-edged gorge lay ahead of that, vast in size and length. The gigantic chasm cut a winding swath across the terrain face, connecting several larger sinkholes like a snaking ribbon strung through a group of massive beads. The Union at large knew this natural marvel as Curving Rock Canyon.

  But to the Farooqua Tribal Nations, this was Gajj territory. Habraum took in the rocky vista and whistled. He hadn’t had time to explore it on prior trips to Faroor. The Cerc made a mental note to return on a holiday and explore Curving Rock with Jeremy.

  “We’re here,” V’Korram growled brusquely.

  Habraum turned to a still-gaping Mhir’ujiid. She’d probably never seen Curving Rock from this high up. Despite her consent, the Cerc couldn’t shake his nagging doubts. “Sure about this?” he asked quietly.

  The Farooqua nodded earnestly at him. “You saved me from the Ttaunz. It’s the least I can do, Nwosu. Besides, my tribe is on good terms with the Gajj.”

  Marguliese stepped forward. “There are nano-tracker probes in your clothing so we can detect you. And no, they cannot be found conventionally,” she added as the Farooqua gaped at her attire in shock.

  “But your vessel,” Mhir’ujiid replied worriedly, trembling all over. “The Gajj will see—”

  “Nope.” Khrome shook his metallic head, popping his lips on the “p.” “This vessel automatically cloaked the moment we came within their visual range. We can see them but they can’t see us.”

  Habraum started where he left off, “Once you engage them, Marguliese will translate your exchange’s kineticabulary for us in here.”

  Mhir’ujiid watched Marguliese in amazement. “You can do that?”

  “I can do several activities,” the Cybernarr said evenly. Both Tyris and Khrome rolled their eyes.

  “If you sense any danger,” Habraum added, just as a precaution, “scratch the back of your head with both your hands and we’ll transmat you back to us at once.”

  Mhir’ujiid stared at him with a questioning look. “Scratching my head means ‘it’s too hot’ in Gajj.”

  “Oh.” Habraum had forgotten how many body movements actually meant something in the Farooqua kineticabularies. “Huh, then wrap both arms around your body.”

  Mhir’ujiid covered her mouth to stop giggling. “That means—”

  “Rogguts, just do it if you sense trouble,” Habraum cut in. “Got me?”

  “Yes, Nwosu.”

  “We know the Gajj had several mines used to trade with other tribes,” the Cerc continued. “Now that the Union’s closed those off, we need to know where the Ghebrekh might go. But be subtle.”

  “Do it in the name of the Quud?” Mhir’ujiid asked with no trace of wariness or wavering. “My tribe?”

  Habraum gave her a smile, reassured. “Exactly.” He turned to Khrome. “Send her down.”

  The Thulican typed away at his workstation. One brilliant flash later and Mhir’ujiid was gone.

  All eyes turned to the front viewscreen where the Farooqua appeared on a shadowed rock shelf in the Curving Rock’s second largest sinkhole, where the Gajj tribal leader resided.

  Mhir’ujiid’s amusing reaction to instantaneous transmatting drew quite a few chuckles. But she quickly regained composure and began the long climb down the sinkhole’s wall folds. Before long, V’Korram jolted and jabbed a clawed finger at the screens. “They’re coming for her!”

  Habraum glanced at each screen as they were pointed out to him, fully expecting this ambush. The cliff walls came to life with movements barely noticeable to even the trained eye.

  Gajj sentries—camouflaged against the sinkhole’s crevassed walls—were slinking noiselessly across their rocky span to intercept the intruder.

  Lily barely held in a gasp, moving closer to observe. The Cerc felt his stomach knot up, but on the surface he remained calm and contained.

  The descending Mhir’ujiid also noticed their approach, but did not stop or try avoiding the sentries’ advances. Instants later, she was surrounded. In a quick, coordinated action the Gajj exposed themselves, five of them in total. Their physiques sported lean muscles visible underneath their dark indigo skin pelts. Each clung to the wall effortlessly while brandishing a nasty-looking blade.

  “Captain?” Khal questioned. “Should we—”

  “No,” Habraum said with a sharp wave, his eyes locked on the screens. “Wait for her signal.”

  The standoff was muted and motionless, like a holo-realistic picture drenched in rose sunlight.

  A hushed tension blanketed the transport’s interior like a living being. Even with all their training, the three Armada officers paced or fidgeted with their weapons. Habraum could sense Liliana stealing quick glances over at him, no doubt anxious about what he planned to do next.

  With hands on his hips, Habraum let the stress surrounding him slide off. He forced himself to believe that Mhir’ujiid would succeed. Marguliese, at his left, leveled daggers of cerulean at the holoscreens. Finally, a Gajj directly above Mhir’ujiid shook his head, sending a tremor through his body.

  Marguliese translated right away. “Identify yourself, Quud.”

  Byzlar and Uyull, fixated on the viewscreen, started at the Cybernarr’s unemotional tone. In a moment, they turned sheepishly to the screen again, awaiting Mhir’ujiid’s response.

  But Mhir’ujiid adopted a different pose altogether and straightened with stately confidence. She jerked her head subtly back and forth while shrugging a few times. Marguliese translated again, imitating the Farooqua’s voice exactly. “Tell your leader that Kyas’argiid’s eldest daughter seeks an audience.”

  With that, the mood along that cliff wall completely shifted. The Gajj who had asked gaped back at Mhir’ujiid with wide, bulgy, yellow eyes. The other sentries lessened the hostility in their postures. Minor shudders now signified a full-on conversation occurring between the Gajj.

  Not missing a beat, Marguliese translated: “They are discussing the validity of Mhir’u
jiid’s claim.”

  “Let them hurry up,” Tyris muttered shortly.

  Fiyan gaped, her craniowhisks ripping in shock. “Did she say her father was Kyas’argiid?”

  “Yea, why?” asked Habraum, eyes never leaving the screen.

  “He’s high chief of the entire Quud Tribal Nation. She’s royalty among the Farooqua.”

  “Hrrmph,” V’Korram growled.

  Cortes made a face. “Will the Quud princess thing be a problem?”

  “No.” Byzlar shook his granite-like head. “Kyas’argiid is respected and feared among all Tribal Nations. No Farooqua would be stupid enough to lay a hand on her.”

  “Her disappearance explains the chatter over UComm channels about aggressive Quud mobilization along their borders,” Khal scowled. “Funny how she failed to mention that.”

  Right then, onscreen, the Gajj all sheathed their weapons and their leader gestured at Mhir’ujiid.

  “Come with us, daughter of Kyas’argiid,” Marguliese translated.

  The Gajj leader made a sideways head gesture to his female cohort situated on the wall below Mhir’ujiid, and she obediently scrambled down the cliff face.

  “That sentry has been sent to report Mhir’ujiid’s arrival,” Marguliese told the transport occupants.

  After a brief head-shaking exchange between the Quud girl and the Gajj sentries, Mhir’ujiid hopped on the back of the lanky Gajj to her left. With that, the four remaining Gajj scrambled down the cliff at incredible speeds, reaching a large outcropping at the mouth of a tunnel. The sentries dismounted, landing lightly on their feet. Mhir’ujiid dismounted the Gajj she was riding.

  As each of the Farooqua stood up, the difference between the two ethnic groups was glaringly clear to Habraum. Mhir’ujiid stood with straight posture while the four Gajj crouched like Earth-like primates. Several silent macroms passed before the female Gajj returned with company. A taller, older female trailed behind, walking far more erect than her fellow Gajj. She sported a long mane of golden braids, as well as ceremonial jewels that adorned her neck and body.

  “The Gajj chief?” Habraum nodded at the new figure onscreen.

  Fiyan nodded. “Lnorj’yrko.” Without another exchange, the five sentries scrambled back up the sinkhole walls to their posts, leaving Mhir’ujiid and the Gajj leader alone on the outcropping. But several vigilant eyes glittered from within the tunnel’s gloom behind Lnorj’yrko.

  Once she beheld Mhir’ujiid, the Gajj leader’s veiny yellow eyes lit up in recognition. The two embraced like old friends, gesturing with such speed that Habraum had to blink because his eyes were starting to twitch. It amazed him how mere head nods conveyed a whole conversation.

  But Marguliese caught every movement, converting the pertinent exchanges into spoken word.

  “Mhir’ujiid! What a treat!” Lnorj’yrko signed eagerly. “I heard you were captured by the Ttaunz!”

  Mhir’ujiid kept her gestures loose, engaging. “A mix-up. I hope my father didn’t overreact.”

  Lnorj’yrko gave the girl an incredulous look. “Kyas’argiid may be known for his infinite patience, but if you don’t let him know that you’re alright soon, I’m afraid the Quud might make a rash decision.”

  Mhir’ujiid gaped, midmorning sun glistening off her pelt. “My father won’t support the Ghebrekh—”

  Marguliese mirrored Mhir’ujiid’s visible surprise in her verbal translation. Habraum was surprised at how much her mimicked reactions amused him.

  “Never.” The Gajj rolled her shoulders back. “But he’ll be guarding Quud borders more keenly.”

  Worry tinged Mhir’ujiid’s manner. “I’m heading back there. But first I have a question...for my tribe.” Habraum smiled. Good girl. She was doing so well, he no longer felt any worry.

  “Go ahead,” the Gajj gestured, like a mother encouraging a child.

  Mhir’ujiid squared her shoulders. “Do the Gajj still supply the Ghebrekh with xephrite for their bombs?”

  Lnorj’yrko looked surprised by the question. “The Union soldiers have blocked off all Gajj xephrite mines.” Shame washed over the Gajj’s whole demeanor. “And yes, I initially had dealings with the Ghebrekh, bartering xephrite for goods just like I did with any other tribal nation. That was until I saw how much damage they were truly causing. So we stopped trading with them.”

  Mhir’ujiid’s lips tightened with doubt. “And you’re sure there are no mines the Ghebrekh could access?”

  “There are no other mines,” answered Lnorj’yrko, her gestures sharp and bordering on defensive.

  Marguliese’s spoken delivery captured the mood impeccably. “And no Ghebrekh enters my territory.” Onscreen, Mhir’ujiid seemed accepting of the Gajj leader’s answer.

  “She lies,” Mhir’ujiid raged, once safely aboard the military transport. “There’s a hidden mine in a sinkhole southwest of Curving Rock.”

  Habraum frowned, digesting the news. “How do you know for sure?”

  “We Quud monitor other tribes,” she replied, “making sure they don’t cause trouble.” Her body rippled with disgust. “Ghebrekh were spotted there and in other Gajj xephrite mines just last week.”

  Uyull glared down at her. “And you said nothing because…”

  Mhir’ujiid shrugged off the UComm officer’s irritation. “I wanted to see how Lnorj’yrko would react to my allegation. I’ve seen this mine with my own eyes. Also, she has a nervous tick when she lies.”

  Habraum felt the room thicken with anger, most of it directed at Mhir’ujiid.

  “What is Lnorj’yrko’s impetus to lie?” Marguliese asked. “Now that her mine access is obstructed?”

  “The Gajj Tribe is the most religious Tribal nation,” said Mhir’ujiid. “Ghuj’aega most likely gave her some speech about how the Zenith Point is connected to the Ghebrekh and they should honor that rapport.”

  Tyris and Khrome exchanged a troubled look. Habraum, absorbing all this, didn’t appreciate Mhir’ujiid’s lack of disclosure any more than his CT clearly did. But unless it created a huge issue for the mission, Habraum would worry about it later. He looked at his recon officer. “Work with Mhir’ujiid. Find that sinkhole.” V’Korram darted to his recon workstation with Mhir’ujiid in tow.

  Sergeant Fiyan nodded at her Aesonite specialist. “Contact UComm HQ in Thasque. Tell them of the Gajj’s collusion with the Ghebrekh and arrange for closer monitoring.” Byzlar nodded and got to work.

  “Captain?” Habraum turned as Tyris called and walked toward the transport’s unoccupied rear. He followed the Tanoeen away from the group. “Alright, lad, use your words.”

  His XO wheeled about. “You’re letting that slide?” Tyris hissed like a sharp wind.

  The Cerc furrowed his brow. “No. But now isn’t the time for that.”

  Disbelief filled Tyris’s beady eyes. “She withheld vital information. What if she’s using us to punish the Gajj over a tribal grudge?”

  Habraum shook his head. “Just supposition.”

  “Is it?” Tyris glanced disapprovingly in the Farooqua’s direction. “What else is she keeping from us?”

  Habraum tilted his chin up. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m handling Mhir’ujiid. Trust me.” He moved past his XO, considering the conversation done.

  Tyris, however, kept pushing. “Then trust your first officer, too. Or I’d need cybernetics to earn that?”

  That remark stopped Habraum cold. He turned slowly with a vicious, silent glare. The Tanoeen looked back without flinching. Habraum preferred him as Khrome’s straight man instead of an XO who didn’t know his place.

  The Cerc bucked his teeth, swallowing his anger, and looked to V’Korram for an update.

  “Have the location,” V’Korram growled. “Half an orv away at the border of Gajj territory.”

  Habraum nodded abruptly, still peeved as he approached the larger group. “We move out then.”

  Chapter 32

  Defense Minister Haemekk sat in his chair wearing sati
ny black ceremonial robes, unflappably calm despite the gale of angry voices crashing into him.

  His audience included half a dozen holoprojections that represented Faroor’s most powerful merchant companies with huge stakes in the planet’s economy. Each was suffering freefalls in profits due to the Ghebrekh’s antics scaring off trade partners from all over Union Space and beyond. They demanded a resolution, and now.

  So Haemekk gave them one. “I am officially naming a new Maorridius Magnus.”

  The reactions ranged between shock, confusion, and even relief.

  “What? I thought the Magnus was on vacation,” one asked frantically.

  “But Taorr has been abducted, and surely killed,” stated one male. “Is the Magnus’s brother, Georn son of Jeyzyr, replacing him?”

  An older, wiry female in white jeweled robes chimed in, “What about Praece son of Proejer?”

  Haemekk gave a wan smile. These greedy worms never considered the obvious choice—which was how he liked it. “The Magnus is unable to continue his duties as our leader. I will reveal his successor two days hence.”

  “And this ‘Star Brigade’ hunting Ghuj’aega?” asked the female disdainfully. “Will they be successful?”

  “Doubtful, Leannon,” Haemekk answered, “especially if they are as shackled by Union procedures as we are.” He rose to his feet. “Which won’t be the case once our next leader is named.”

  The tension shifted then, and Haemekk knew he had them all.

  “The orv is late, and there is much to be done still. Good night to you all,” the Defense Minister concluded. The other Ttaunzs’ holoscreens all vanished, except for one. Haemekk had expected this.

  “Haemekk,” began Kyagon son of Kaeus, a hale-looking male approaching middle age. “Your service to the Supremacy is appreciated. But the Magnus and I had an agreement regarding my daughter.”

  Haemekk raised a placating hand. Personally he found Uarya, Kyagon’s whorespawn of a daughter, distasteful. But Kyagon, owner of Nerada Transplanetary, had promised to keep his substantial business on Faroor should his daughter marry into the royal family.