Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1)

by C. C. Ekeke

  Maelstrom’s face sobered as he continued. “[Then the Earth Holocaust happened. In an attempt to scare the humans and other races off Sollus, a few Korvenites’ missteps led to the accidental deaths of billions on Earth. Our race profusely apologized, offering our world as a haven for the refugees.]

  “[Other races were willing to forgive a mistake committed by only a dozen of our kind.]” In a flash, all calmness on Maelstrom’s features gave way to a fulsome fury. Tharydane actually felt the llyriac’s deep loathing poison the harmony of the crowd.

  His voice grew thick with hate. “[Not the humans! They wanted our entire race to pay. In due course, they convinced their sheep in the Galactic Union that we Korvenites were a lethal threat. We were hunted in droves, stripped of Korvan’s gifts and shipped off Sollus to internment camps…or sold to slavery. All we ever wanted …was peace.]”

  The bitter tang of Maelstrom’s anger spread feverishly, uncontrollably. At the mere mention of the Korvenite internment camps, loathing surged around Tharydane. Flickers of memories not her own flashed through the girl’s mind, an orphaned youth’s lonely cry, the searing pain of a fresh pulse pistol wound on an elder’s stomach. Several in the gathering began shouting anti-human epithets. Maelstrom’s sentiments ripped open the unhealed wounds many still carried.

  The llyriac continued. “[My family was ripped away from me, taken to Bimnorii and slaughtered. Thanks to the humans who spread their ideology of hate far beyond Union borders.]” As he spoke, Maelstrom kept his voice at a forceful yet enthralling cadence that sucked Tharydane in, muddying her brain with wrath and vengeance. “[As a powerless youth in an internment camp, I promised I would return to this world and free the Korvenites on it.]

  Maelstrom spread his arms wide in welcoming manner. “[So here I stand; my body birthed on Sollus, my spirit baptized by Korvan’s blood, my purpose forged in the crucibles of human cruelty and Korvenite resolve. And I will liberate us all from the shackles that humanity placed on our race!]”

  Every Korvenite present exploded in approval. Maelstrom basked in their love with a gracious smile. Meanwhile, Tharydane could feel the waves of his hatred filling her, overpowering her, demanding acceptance. She had been only six years old when the Union Command caught her family fleeing Union Space. Her parents were beaten down as they watched her being taken away, screaming for their daughter. Tharydane never saw them or her older brothers again. One sibling had left the family before she was born, the other either dead or rotting in an internment camp. Many officers from the Union Command made quick currency on the side by illegally trafficking hundreds of Korvenites to slaveholders from planets outside Union Space, hence how Tharydane ended up on Bimnorii.

  Every day those events simmered just below the surface of Tharydane’s thoughts. Her life and family obliterated, all because of the wretched humans! Before she could stop it, her memories spilled out, entwining with the recollections of those around her.

  [The Korvenite Independence Front will be your new family,] voices agreed within the Unilink. She knew Hugrask was doing the best he could, but he couldn’t compare to a true Korvenite family.

  Something, a haze, muddied her thoughts. Why didn’t she want revenge on those who ruined her life? What held her back? Tharydane grasped Masra’s arm. “[I don’t know about this Maz—AAH!]”

  Beside her wasn’t the Korvenite she though she knew. Masra’s face had contorted with hate. “[Human Scum!]” she shrieked. The anger thundered in Tharydane’s mind. [Isn’t that what they are?]

  Maelstrom continued, his smile widening. “[I kept my faith in the path Korvan illuminated for all those of his blood. Through that faith, whether in this mortal life or the psychic planes of Illyria, I bear witness to a Sollus returned to Korvan’s children.]

  “[My first attempt at freedom was blinded by arrogance, costing the lives of nearly all under my leadership. One child of Korvan cannot reclaim an entire world. It takes all his children, united as one. I know many amongst you are skeptical. Some of your masters are kinder than others. Some aren’t even treated like slaves.]” Maelstrom glanced again at Tharydane. “[But those same masters, especially the humans would kill in a heartbeat you if they saw what you are capable of now.]

  “[The humans are relentless. They will try to shackle our minds and bodies once again!]” Maelstrom’s voice rose to a heated climax. “[They even added Terra in front of our world’s name to convince others that it’s their home. It will NEVER be their home! They will NEVER stop us!]”

  Maelstrom snapped his hand up with chilling speed, issuing golden jolts of energy into the gathering. A shriek rang out—Khasos. The Korvenite flew from the crowd against his will, entangled by Maelstrom’s psychic coils. He cried as he thumped down at the llyriac’s feet.

  Stunned shouts in both Korcei and Standard could be heard. A few of Maelstrom’s own followers rushed from the crowd. The Korvenite llyriac froze them with a look. Whatever odd impression Tharydane sensed about Khasos grew exponentially. Despite the psychic shield he erected, a naked fear bled from him that definitely wasn’t Korvenite. Khasos grunted in pain, forced to his knees by Maelstrom.

  The llyriac looked down at Khasos imperiously. “[This is no son of Korvan! It is merely a P’aluash shapeshifter, another sycophantic pawn of the humans.]” There were loud gasps, and a sharp psychic stab of betrayal flooded the Korvenites. Maelstrom surveyed the audience with a stony look.

  “[So precise was the P’aluash metamorphosis with some technology to substitute for telepathy, barely any suspected his deceit.]” He focused on the Korvenite impostor with a look of extreme concentration. The room quieted, leaving only the wail of Bimnorii sandstorms outside.

  “Well,” said Khasos in plain Standard. His voice sounded reedy, strained in lilt—not at all like a Korvenite. “The Union had suspicions of whether you were still alive. Doesn’t matter. UComm will crush your feeble crusade just like before.”

  The llyriac’s rage shook the Unilink at that comment. He calmed himself quickly. “[Typical Union imperialists, arrogant to their last breath,]” Maelstrom murmured frostily. “[I was onto you the first moment I saw you in that crippled shuttlecraft. Now is the time to make you an example.]”

  With a simple hand gesture from Maelstrom, Khasos’ head involuntarily snapped back. His face contorted with agony as he fought for control of himself, shifting in and out of the Korvenite form. Moments later, his round amber eyes reverted into snake-like red orbs. A thick snout stretched and sprouted from where his mouth and nose used to be. His arms swelled and elongated into tree branch-like limbs. His chalk-white skin darkened into a ruddy complexion; undeniably a P’aluash from the Union memberworld Natar P’alua. Maelstrom had telepathically forced Khasos to revert to his true form.

  The Korvenite leader wasn’t finished. The P’aluash’s mouth opened to scream, but nothing save a gurgle escaped. He clutched at his temples with both hands, shaking back and forth.

  Khasos’ head burst apart, spraying pink blood and skull fragments all over. The P’aluash’s headless form slumped to the ground, rosy fluids spouting from the neck stump.

  Masra shrieked in Tharydane’s ear. The crowd was in an uproar. Those closest got drenched in spews of blood, brain and bone. The Unilink buckled under a flare-up of rolling emotions.

  Maelstrom stared silently out at the undulating masses. Not once did his face betray any hint of enjoyment or revulsion in the killing. The hunched elder Korvenite moved to Maelstrom’s side. With a look of pure scorn, he levitated the P’aluash corpse up and out of the room.

  Tharydane gaped at the headless corpse, trying not to get crushed by the boisterous crowd. That death…that murder slapped the Korvenite out of whatever thrall the Unilink held over her.

  “[He would have done the same to any of us,]” Maelstrom spoke over the racket, now carrying a more imposing pitch both audibly and psychically. “[I will do whatever it takes to protect you, my brethren. That is why you must join my crusade.]”
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  Tharydane was trembling all over. She knew these Korvenites. They wouldn’t follow a murderer.

  The crowd began to quiet down. Obedience doused the Unilink in waves, washing resistance away.

  [Maelstrom knows the way to our freedom,] thought one. [He will lead us back to our rightful world,] noted another. Horrified, Tharydane began to slowly back up through the crowd—away from this monster Maelstrom. To stay could mean her death, she realized. With every step backward, she slowly closed herself off to the potent Unilink. Voices became fainter in her mind, dimming like a Noriida Major sunset. The door through which she entered the slave quarters was a bit ajar—only a few metrids past the crowd. Maelstrom still ranted on, though Tharydane could no longer see him through the crowd.

  “[The Korvenites will prevail, whether it takes a year or several. Sollus will be ours again.]”

  The sway of his voice spread over the gathering again. All around Tharydane, Korvenites she’d known for years became strangers, surrendering their wills to Maelstrom’s influence. Since she was nearly closed off to the Unilink, he could no longer affect her. She was near the rear of the crowd, but not close enough to the door.

  Tharydane’s heart pounded in her head, her fingers, her toes, everywhere. The clutter of dissension was fading, as was her cover. The door still looked too far. An idea popped into her head, then. Not the smartest idea, but her options were slim.

  Opening herself to the Unilink just a little, Tharydane searched for Masra. Right away she sensed her friend’s dulled psyche. For a moment, Tharydane felt a twist of guilt, but she had no choice.

  [No! This is wrong!] Tharydane strained the opposing thought forward through the immense Unilink, which smarted like hell. She shut her eyes, but that couldn’t stem the stinging pain.

  A nanoclic later Tharydane heard Masra yell out “[No! This is wrong!]” Then she closed herself off completely. No sooner than that, a crack of dissension started with those angrily responding to Masra’s words, cracking open a large schism. Voices rose, the crowd growing restless once again. Tharydane saw Maelstrom standing composed and resolute. Instead of ranting, the llyriac calmed his unruly gathering with soothing tones and Mindspeak influence.

  Tharydane whirled and barreled through the last of the crowd. Right after she kicked open the door, a stiff wind nearly knocked the Korvenite backwards. Sand grains pelted her face, but Tharydane grabbed the door to steady herself and swing off the short staircase. The Korvenite hit the ground pumping her legs as fast as she could through the soft red sand. Her aaln was awake when she reached it, licking one of its three eyes. Tharydane vaulted on the steed’s backside and ripped off its post rope.

  “Aja,” she ordered. The aaln sprang up to its feet and thundered off. Tharydane gripped the reins so tight they bit into her skin. She barely noticed, too terrified to even enjoy the aaln’s speed.

  “Home!” she panted, her hair streaming behind in flowing, violet waves. In sync with her words, the aaln obediently put on a burst of speed and more crimson sand clouds trailed its hoofed feet. In no time, Rimhara came into view beyond the dunes, a sight Tharydane couldn’t have been happier to see.

  16.

  “[This is a sight I thought I would never see on Bimnorii.]” Maelstrom floated high above the ruined Ymedes Slave Quarters with folded arms, the night winds whipping his violet hair into a frenzy. Below him hundreds of Korvenite emptied out of the slave quarters into the night.

  His fully inducted followers, dressed in sparkling golden Retributionary armor, flanked their newer counterparts. Everyone marched toward the bright pinnacles of the Ymedes township not far away. A fresh confidence seared like fire through these Korvenites. Maelstrom fed it back via Mindspeak to embolden them further. His pride was like that of a parent watching his progeny go out into the universe. A young couple broke from the formation and looked up to the sky at Maelstrom for guidance. These two Korvenites had excellent masters, lived in the Slave Quarters their entire lives.

  [Don’t fear. I’m with you always.] Maelstrom dipped into the Korvenites’ minds, entwining his power with their own. Right away their resolve amplified and they rejoined the other Korvenites.

  “[I’d say we let them settle old scores with their masters before fully joining our cause. These brethren can only truly embrace the freedom of their future by killing the shackles of their past.]” Maelstrom’s amber eyes grew distant as he observed.

  Floating beside him was the elderly llyriac Oreis. “[I would agree, Anointed One. The humans will not be ready for our brethren’s vengeance. I can almost taste it on my lips.]”

  Maelstrom nodded, observing the procession of his flock below. This made five successful slave liberations in the past two weeks. Their supply raids were going equally well. The time when Sollus would return to its rightful inheritors approached.

  His spirit swelling with joy, the llyriac gazed up at Bimnorii’s three moons illuminating the skies. “[What have we heard from Atanos?]”

  “[Atanos and Vantor will meet with our vessel in the Merrivel Nebula ten days from now.]” Oreis said. “[They are on schedule. Our infiltrator confirmed it. We’ll be ready to reclaim Sollus.]”

  The Korvenite leader cringed. Through the Unilink he felt night-chilled sand scraping his brethren’s bare feet, but grinned at their swelling confidence. Korvan’s children were one with their Anointed, as he was with them. “[But doubt still lingers on your mind Oreis,]” Maelstrom said softly, turning back to his brethren. “[Speak your mind, friend.]”

  Oreis glanced uneasily at him, clearly remembering the last time someone questioned Maelstrom’s motives. “[The young female who ran off. She could tell others what she has seen.]”

  Maelstrom rubbed his smooth chin thoughtfully, floating down to the sand from his high perch. Oreis followed suit. “[Intriguing, wasn’t she? With everyone else, I see their past, their present. With her,]” the Korvenite leader felt puzzled. He hated that feeling. “[I couldn’t get a definitive read. But I sensed her potential with Korvan’s gifts… incredible. She might rival even me in power. But her retreat proved she’s not worthy enough to serve Korvan.]”

  The pair landed before the wrecked slave quarters. The Korvenite procession, marching steadily toward Ymedes, now scattered into distant dots. The Unilink had begun quivering with pleasure.

  Maelstrom saw his brethren extract vengeance on former masters through their own eyes. Through one youngling, he saw the agonized face of a middle-aged human curled up in his bed shrieking. Igniting every pain receptor in the body at once. A simple yet effective torture, Maelstrom mused.

  From where the Korvenite leader stood, the air was rife with sand from the gusty Bimnorii winds, but he could smell the burnt corpses beginning to litter Ymedes’ streets. His Retributionaries fought as one. Maelstrom knitted their minds into a flawless union as they cut down any resistance.

  [Even if this Tharydane talks,] Maelstrom communicated to only Oreis as the two walked forward. [Who in that city would believe a Korvenite? Once word of Ymedes spreads, we will be long gone. Who do you think will get blamed?]

  The two chuckled. Oreis’s smile revealed broken teeth. “[You think of everything Lord Maelstrom.]”

  “[It’s a gift.]” Maelstrom shrugged and looked again toward his brethren. “[Have them take no longer than an orv. After that we must depart.]”

  As Oreis repeated this message to everyone else through the Unilink, Maelstrom wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm up against the frigid night winds. He watched with merriment as his fellow Korvenites unleashed their gifts, becoming more devoted to him as the macroms of time passed.

  17.

  PERSONAL LOG #20067

  Hey J,

  Sorry for the lack of updates. Its been a skittery few weeks coming back to Star Brigade. I’m giving all the field-active Brigadiers the day off. They’ve been working their hinds off for the past two weeks. Best I don’t completely fubber up their morale anymore.

 
Sides, after what happened with Jeremy a pair of days back, I need the breather too. The sprout finally got over missing the polymaero game…but the whole thing shook me about. I love where Jeremy and I are right now. I won’t ever let our relationship get as bad as it was right after your…well, you know. The father I want to be and the father I am now, its still a work in progress. But once I’m finished helping Star Brigade, I will get myself back on that track.

  The good news about the Brigade is that their practices are showing modicums of improvement. The bad news is that the improvement is moving slower than a glacier. But they aren’t getting the fubbering teamwork aspect of it.

  Love always,

  H

  Football was once the biggest sport on Old Earth. But it never gained much traction outside the Solar System colonies, especially after the 2100s when earthborn humans began mixing into the intergalactic culture. Habraum’s father Samuel had taught football to him and his four brothers when they were little, constantly harping on how football reflected simpler times and pleasures before beings began wasting their lives on the countless virtual world networks. The elder Nwosu was right, as Habraum had learned early on in life.

  Now Habraum stood in a HLHG suite he reserved, dressed in a black cutoff tee and shorts. Around him was the bright green turf typical of a football field and his team of holographic simulacrums from Earth’s popular football players in the 2300s. The other team had players from the 2200s.

  The referee’s whistle shrilled harshly and the game commenced. Habraum hadn’t played in months, but he launched himself into the game with an aggression usually reserved for Brigade field missions. Cutting loose like this felt glorious, working with his team to read feints and setups, every teammate operating in one flowing unit. The fast, furious game see-sawed back and forth, but 59 macroms later Habraum’s team won 4-2. A good workout; an even better stress release.