Star Brigade: Odysseys - An Anthology

by C. C. Ekeke

  His mind was a mess. The other non-Korvenite citizens were on edge as it was after the Battle of Terra Sollus. The arrival of Korvenite extremists that had tried to wipe them off the face of this world could ruin everything. A quick read on his fellow companions told Antur most of what he already knew. Vycho wore a heavy disquiet on his face and his thoughts. Tharace, while concerned about the town’s reaction, had no conflict in helping these arrivals. The trio walked away until they were out of earshot.

  Once the Korvenites had all properly shielded their minds from any psychic eavesdroppers, Antur immediately asked. “[How many?]”

  Tharace’s irises gleamed bright gold in the tunnel’s gloom as she said, “[Seventy-four.]”

  Antur’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “[Sweet Korvan, you two!]” He turned and began pacing, hands on his hips. How could he let these butchers into Big Victory’s mostly non-Korvenite population, yet how could he turn them away to be captured and slaughtered by the UComm? The conflict was a whirlwind inside of him. And by Vycho’s contorted features, Antur wasn’t alone in his ambivalence.

  “[You expect us to allow that many Retributionaries into our town?]” he asked the female.

  “[Maelstrom is dead,]” Tharace stated flatly, “[These Korvenites have no further ties to him.]”

  Antur stopped pacing and pivoted toward his two longtime friends. “[No further ties except for their crimes and their hard hatred for humans. How are we supposed to spin this with our neighbors?]”

  Tharace appeared offended by such a question. “[We can spin them in any direction we want.]”

  Vycho gaped at his partner. “[Keeping the town in line for events like Maelstrom’s attack is one thing. Manipulating them to accept a group of Korvenites that nearly eradicated them all?]”

  The female Korvenite shrugged. “[We’ve persuaded them on other matters.]”

  Antur frowned. Even after so many years, he was continuously galled by how Tharace’s passion to protect their species outweighed her need for scruples. “[You’ve grown far too comfortable bending others to your will.]”

  She folded her arms and made a rude noise. “[Like you have with your Earther puppet?]”

  Antur bristled. “Watch. Your. Mouth,” he warned in Standard.

  The venom in his voice wiped the sneer right off Tharace’s features. She pointed at the cluster of Korvenites standing far from their debate. “[If it wasn’t for us, these Korvenites over there…our brethren…would still have a homeworld.]”

  Antur recoiled as if she’d slapped him, except the slap might have stung less. These three Korvenites leaders shared more than just a long friendship. If anyone knew the dark secret that had brought them to Big Victory, Antur knew that no place in the galaxy would be safe for them.

  “[She’s right,]” Vycho blurted out. He looked Antur in the eyes, standing half a head taller. “[We ruined Earth. And the entire Korvenite species still pays for our sins. Maelstrom wouldn’t exist if not for us.]” Vycho shook his curly-haired head with such sorrow. He carried his guilt over the Earth Holocaust like weights around his neck. It had pained him only a little more than when Antur and Tharace had convinced him to sneak back onto Terra Sollus instead of leaving Union Space, like the rest of their group had originally agreed. “[Some of these Korvenites have never stepped foot on their rightful homeworld.]”

  “[And after what Maelstrom and his brainwashed sycophants have done,]” Tharace pressed on, “[do you think the Union will let the remaining Korvenites live?]” Despite Antur’s distaste for her methods, he could not help but be mesmerized by her zeal. “[As stupid as they were to follow that fanatic, this group could be all that is left of our brethren in this universe.]”

  Antur absorbed her words and quickly saw no other choice. Neither did her partner, Vycho. “[Very well. Let me discuss this with Sunny first.]” Antur owed his human lover that and more after everything she had done to support the Korvenites in Big Victory.

  Tharace looked appalled. “[You need your human’s permission? On Korvenite natters?]” she spat. “[Do you also need her consent to wipe your own ass too?]”

  “[Show some respect, you piece of flotsam,]” Antur got right in the female’s face. His irises vanished, eyes turning pitch-black in anger. “[She is this town’s mayor.]”

  “[And she will remain Big Victory’s mayor,]” Tharace snarled, not backing down, “[unless we say otherwise.]” Her eyes had also turned blacker than night.

  A green flush crept up Antur’s neck at her words. He itched to slap the insolence off Tharace’s smug face. Thankfully Vycho stepped between the two Korvenites before wish turned to action. “[This isn’t just about Sunny. Bringing in these Korvenites affects the whole town.]” The import of his words reminded Antur of the larger picture. He was still too angry to forget Tharace’s disrespect, but currently he had to deal with the issue of these refugees.

  “[They stay underground and out of sight, for now. We tell the others to persuade the non-Korvenites first.]” Tharace stated in cooler tones. She refused to look at Antur directly. Whether out of disgust or remorse, he had no interest in probing her mind to find out.

  Nonetheless, Antur nodded in agreement with her solution. “[Keep an eye on them while I talk to Sunny.]” He turned around and headed back toward the transmatter that had brought him here. “I see no reason why she wouldn’t grant them asylum,” Antur decided, confident in Sunny’s answer.

  After waking up his lover and explaining the situation, the Korvenite had assumed wrong.

  “Absolutely not!” Sunny Nakamura threw back as soon as he finished.

  “Sunny!” Antur yelped in surprise. Her refusal was a knife thrust to the heart.

  She stood in the middle of the hollowed-out ship helm serving as their warmly lit common room, hastily dressed in her silky lavender robe. Sunny shook her head, causing her thick mane of powder blue hair to spill down her shoulders. “I won’t allow those murderous xenophobes anywhere near Big Victory.”

  Antur had expected some hesitation as was Sunny’s way, but never such blatant refusal. He tried a different approach—begging. “These Korvenites are lost, leaderless and afraid. Most have no idea how to function in the outside world. They have nowhere else to go.”

  “And whose fault is that?” the human sniffed.

  Mine, and your species as well. “Maelstrom’s fault, I know,” Antur detailed instead, nodding.

  “Then they chose wrong,” Sunny concluded with an insolent toss of her hair.

  Antur leaned away. How could she be so heartless? He thought that she understood his brethren’s plight. “We’ve provided shelter for several Korvenites in the past. Most of Big Victory’s Korvenite population came to this city seeking refuge…including myself, Vycho and Tharace.”

  Sunny shook her head defiantly. “Totally different. You never tried wiping out every Earth human!”

  Antur winced at the falsehood. He prayed that Sunny read that as his reaction to her resistance. “These poor creatures were thrown into internment camps, treated terribly for most of their lives and someone offers them a way out. What choice would you have made in their place?”

  That finally reached Sunny. Her vehemence bled away and suddenly she looked very exhausted. “Antur…” the human began with a sigh.

  Antur overrode her before she could reply. “All the Korvenites in town will take full responsibility for these newcomers,” he took her gently by the shoulders and looked his lover right in the eyes. “We’ll help them acclimate into the town. It will work out.”

  “And what about when UComm comes, huh?” she shrugged off his grasp and began pacing around him. “What if these Korvenites lead UComm back to you and every Korvenite in Big Victory?”

  Antur bit down his annoyance at her inability to stay still and trailed her pacing. “Then we’ll go underground, just like after the Earth Holocaust.” The Korvenites living in Big Victory when the Earth Holocaust happened had hid underground to avoid depor
tation. UComm never found them. “Even with our larger numbers, this could work again. Everything will be fine.”

  But Sunny kept pacing, still unconvinced. “You don’t know that.” Her worry and her anger were tangible things, billowing out around her body.

  The Korvenite weaved around and blocked Sunny’s path. “You’re right. I don’t know,” he admitted. “But Sunny, these could be all that are left of my species. We have to help them.”

  Sunny’s mouth became thin and petulant. Antur could sense the resistance building up inside her. “No, you don’t. I chose you, Tharace, Vycho, Joreis and all the other Korvenites living in Big Victory. After what these Korvenite Independence Front crazies just tried to do, I do not choose those murderers.” Her last words harbored a spiteful contempt. “I won’t.”

  You did choose a murderer. Three, in fact, Antur winced, you just don’t remember.

  “Even if I wanted to grant these Korvenites asylum, do you think I’ll be alone in my opinion from the other non-Korvenite council members? Or the non-Korvenite citizens?”

  Antur could find no plausible comeback for those inquiries, which was all the answer Sunny needed.

  “I am sorry, my love,” she looked pained and sad, but resolute. “My answer would be the same whether or not they were Korvenites. I’m doing this for the safety of Big Victory.” She reached for his hands. “Please tell me you understand.”

  Antur squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears. “I understand perfectly.” With cat-quick speed he took both sides of Sunny’s head in his hands. The Korvenite pushed past the self-loathing, and with his Mindspeak talents plunged into the human’s psyche.

  Sunny gave a surprised grunt, and her face emptied of all expression. The human woman’s eyes glazed over as Antur forced his telepathic will onto her. “This town, this world, is as much theirs as it is mine.” When Antur opened his eyes, they were blacker than pitch. “And no human will deny them of it.”

  Antur pressed in deeper, and Sunny’s vacant eyes also turned black. “You will welcome these Korvenites into Big Victory with an open heart and mind. You will refuse them no courtesy. And if anyone protests in this settlement, you will defend these new arrivals wholeheartedly. Big Victory is their home now.” Antur breathed in deeply, and his golden irises reappeared.

  The Korvenite let both hands fall to his sides and stepped back, hating every aspect of himself for what he had just done.

  Today wasn’t the first time he’d influenced Sunny. Over the years, Antur could count on one and a half hands the times she’d needed a ‘nudge.’

  But those ‘nudges’ were only to ensure that certain mayoral decisions favored the interests of Big Victory’s Korvenites. He loved Sunny as she was, not as some brainwashed puppet. Fifteen years ago was the only other time Antur had forcibly changed her mind.

  They had just married, with Antur believing that Sunny’s love would be unconditional. So he had stupidly confessed his role in the Earth Holocaust.

  Sunny had replied with disbelief, then horror, followed by an eruption of screams and curses. Antur never forgot the hatred in Sunny’s eyes. Nor could he bear sensing as her love for him rapidly evaporated.

  So before she told anyone else, Antur had wiped her mind clean of his foolish admission. And suddenly he had won Sunny back—that smile, those adoring eyes, her love.

  Antur was drawn back to the present by the sight of Sunny’s beady eyes returning to their white sclera and brown iris color. She blinked twice and shook her head, as if waking from a deep slumber.

  “You’re…right, Ant,” the human uttered, her words thick with fatigue. She massaged the bridge of her nose. “These Korvenites deserve a chance.”

  Antur’s stomach twisted and soured. But there was no other choice. “Thank you so much,” he whispered, and drew the human into an embrace so she wouldn’t see his eyes watering up.

  “Anything for you,” Sunny kissed Antur’s neck. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. Your brethren are safe now.” She gave him an extra squeeze around the waist. A salty flavor filled Antur’s mouth. It was all the Korvenite could do to not vomit.

  “I have some work to do still,” Antur said once they’d pulled away from each other. “Go back to bed. I’ll handle everything else.” Those words were spoken with a gentle telepathic nudge.

  Immediately, Sunny yawned. “Yeah, I am tired.” She leaned in and gave Antur a peck on the lips. “Don’t stay up too late.”

  Antur watched as she walked back into their bedroom, refusing to forgive himself this time. So he would live with his choice, bottle it away and let it sear at his very soul as punishment. But for now, his focus had to remain on protecting the remnant of his species. He reached out to Vycho, still down in the Hub, Tell Tharace to get the townsfolk ready.

  Did Sunny agree willingly or did you have to convince her? Vycho thought back.

  Antur bristled. Tharace would be laughing her head off when she found out. Does it matter?

  Vycho’s remorse tinted his thoughts. I’m sorry, Antur.

  Antur was in no mood for anyone’s pity. Get those Korvenites in the underground barracks, the Korvenite snapped. I don’t want them anywhere near the town until we know they’re not a threat. I’ll come back to the Hub shortly.

  Understood, Vycho replied dutifully. His thoughts receded, leaving Antur alone in his common room.

  The elder Korvenite sank into the common room couch, placing his head in his hands. The Korvenite opened himself up to the guilt and the anguish of all that he had done, and the millions who had died thanks to the actions of him and his eleven companions. It didn’t take long before his body began shuddering with silent sobs.

  When the tears finally stopped, Antur stood up and dried his eyes, whispering a prayer to Korvan, a god whom he stopped believing in years ago. Old habit. The Korvenite then headed back to the Hub.

  He had worked to do, for both Big Victory and the Korvenite race.

  Memoria

  For the past week and a half, since the battle for Terra Sollus, a certainty had taken root inside Habraum Nwosu’s mind. The Star Brigade Senior Executive Officer hadn’t spoken it aloud during the convalescence from his extensive injuries in a Hollus Medcenter bed, or when he had delivered the news to Honaa Ishliba’s widow. Even at the funeral ceremony on Rothor IV almost a week ago, Habraum had kept that illumination to himself.

  He should have died instead of Honaa Ishliba.

  Sleep had been an elusive target tonight, as it had the past several nights since Honaa’s death. A quick workout made sense to clear his head and take an edge of the grief. Being cleared for light exercises this afternoon had been a blessing from the Twins themselves. As Habraum wore the black body training suit, short-sleeved and fitting a bit loosely due to his recent convalescence, he was hoping to shake off this frightening nihilistic outlook with some target practice.

  Hit the target at least fifty times, and get right in the head.

  Habraum stood alone across the floating coppery sphere target within the neon blue walls of HLHG Suite 4. Instead of working on his aim, the crimsonborn’s thoughts revolved around the borrowed time he continued living on.

  He should’ve been the one to die. Instead, Honaa used his power of intangibility to toss Habraum out of the exploding space station.

  Habraum closed his eyes, easily calling to mind every aspect of their first meeting eight years ago. Honaa had been the Star Brigadier who recruited the former AeroFleet pilot with no purpose after the Ferronos Sector War.

  “Ssstrategic Assssault & Reconnaisssssance Brigade, Habraum,” Honaa had explained to him eight years ago, his smile displaying teeth that resembled daggers, his Ss punctuated with a hiss like all Rothorids. “Star Brigade. We protect the Galactic Union against extraordinary threatsss that most citizensss never know about. And we would love to dissscuss you working with usss.”

  That memory twisted into Honaa’s stoic expression before Amalgam’s exploding inferno consumed him whole. Remembe
ring the Rothorid’s end sent a cold shiver through him.

  Honaa deserved to live out the rest of his days surrounded by the family he loved so much, on the swampy homeworld to which he longed to return. After giving so much to Star Brigade, staying when the going got tough while Habraum fled, Honaa deserved to bow out on his own terms. Instead, the brave Rothorid died saving Habraum’s life.

  It should have been me, Habraum realized again, tasting bitterness with each word.

  At least Honaa’s children still had a parent, another voice entreated. If he had died instead, his sweet Jeremy would be an orphan. Honaa knew that, making the guilt of Habraum’s survival that much more world-crushing.

  On countless Brigade missions, ever since the Ferronos Sector War, he had been cheating death. This brought no relief. Not while other, better sentients kept dying around him.

  Habraum raised his fist up and fired off a thick crimson blast—missing the moving target completely. He irately fired with his other arm, still tender from a recent dislocation. The target dodged again.

  “FEKT!” His fury soaring, the Cerc unleashed a sweeping backhand arc of concussive force, finally smacking the spherical target to the ground. It bounced away. Habraum stalked it, going no faster than a hurried limp. The sphere attempted to float off the ground.

  Habraum angrily pounded it back down with a glowing fist of pure kinetic force. He cried out to the Twins, to the whole universe, caving the sphere in with repeated, savage blows. “WHY?!”

  His glowing fists rose and fell, hammering the ruined target into flattened sparking scrap.

  He raised his fist again, and something grabbed him by the wrist. Lost in his fury, Habraum twisted free and whirled about with his blazing red fist cocked.

  Seeing his ‘attacker’ then, fury instantly gave way to surprise…and shame.