Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) (16 page)

“Jeremy, we’re not—.” Habraum caught the lie that almost left his mouth. They were creating quite the scene in the Medcenter. “We’re discussing whether I’m going back to my old job or not.”

“Are you going back?” Jeremy brightened up. He always thought Habraum’s job was ‘ultraluminal’.

Habraum caressed his son’s face and eyed him sadly for a long moment.

Forgive me Jenn. I’m choosing her over you…again.
He then turned to Sam. “Yes, I am.”

Sam stared at the Cerc as if a third eye sprouted on his forehead. “Saywhatnow?!” she blurted out.

“You heard me.” The Cerc put his hands on the shoulders of his very confused friend.

“But you said—?”

“I know, I know.” Habraum stroked his hands down Sam’s arms. He remembered the promises he had intended to keep with all-too painful bitterness; being a better and more present father to Jeremy, staying away from Star Brigade. Yet, after today’s incident, he remembered the simple yet dizzying high of field combat, the purpose Star Brigade had always given him—defending Union citizens from extraordinary threats. For the brief time fighting off those Children of Earth assailants, Habraum’s life felt structured again. Then there was Sam, the defeated look on her face revealing how bad things really were.

Star Brigade is her family, closer than blood.
Habraum had no stomach to see what losing that would do to her. He blew out a soft sigh, set his jaw and decided to keep his words simple. “Star Brigade needs me. Walking away is one thing. But letting it die? Never.” He took Sam’s face in his hands and added, “More importantly, you need me.”

Sam gazed up at him with a mix of disbelief, joy and confusion. “But, but….”

“You trying to dissuade me now?” Habraum frowned.

“No!” Sam said quickly. The big, toothy smile that spread across her face was like a sun breaking through an overcast sky, warming Habraum all over. She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

Greystone, however, had a far less effusive reaction. “Absolutely not!” he shook his head furiously.

Habraum folded his arms over his burly chest. “Those are my terms. You either take them or become a nonfactor in Star Brigade.” He, Sam and Jeremy were back in the recovery room with Greystone, laying out the terms for his return; Habraum installed as Brigade Executive Officer in charge, not just a combat team field commander, and Greystone in a figurehead advisory role— with no say in Brigade decisions.

Greystone’s face turned the color of sour milk. “I was guaranteed an active role in the Brigade!”

“Which you won’t be getting,” Habraum’s voice stayed firm. “After Star Brigade’s charter is reactivated, you’ll have outlived your usefulness. But I know the Bicameral will want some spokespuppet checking in on us, so I’d prefer someone we’ve already been…exposed to.”

Greystone opened his mouth but nothing came out, still shaking his head.

“You should be grateful,” Habraum said dryly. “Sam wanted you punted out completely.”

“I’ll accept your terms for now,” Greystone sulkily tromped toward the door. He pivoted just before leaving, glowering at them from afar. “But this isn’t over. I’ll fight this.”

Sam snorted. “Is that supposed to be your ‘big boy’ look?”

Greystone turned purple with rage and stomped out of the room.

“Well…” Habraum put an arm around Jeremy.

“We’re back!” Sam was grinned from ear to ear with mischievous glee.

Only until Star Brigade’s back on its feet,
the Cerc almost said. Habraum had already decided this the moment he agreed to return. Star Brigade could no longer be his life in the long-term, not with Jeremy needing a reliable parent. But now was not the time to reveal that.  Besides, Star Brigade couldn’t need
that
much help. “You actually buggered that squit?” Habraum frowned, changing the subject.

Sam’s smile became a wince. “It was before I knew what a subhuman he really is. End of story.”

Habraum smirked playfully, “Took me a heartbeat to see that, Sam. What was your excuse?”

“Lots and lots and
lots
of liquor,” she deadpanned.

“Daddy,” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, sprout?” Habraum looked down at his son.

“Does that mean we get to live on the starbase you and Auntie Sammie work at again?”

Habraum stiffened. With that one question, a stream of worries blitzed his brain. Moving to Hollus Maddrone starbase, finally facing Honaa Ishliba after so long, and managing Jeremy’s transport to school among the other goings-on in his son’s life…

“That’s right, Jerm,” Sam answered, catching her friend’s unease but politely covering for him.

“Excuse me.” The croaky voice of a Galdorian orderly brought everyone’s attention to the recovery room door. The eye-stalked being looked less than delighted. “The M-230 assigned to this room was all but slagged. Where is the party accountable for the medimech’s damage?”

Both Habraum and Jeremy turned to Sam. Seeing all eyes on her, she faced the Galdorian with an unapologetic shrug. “What can I say? It wouldn’t give me a lollipop.”

[So this is how it feels to have Mindspeak.] 
Vantor smiled. Once he and his Korvenite counterparts had their restraining bolts removed, Maelstrom helped them access their abilities. It felt as if Vantor had just been given his sight after a lifetime of blindness. A week had passed since he and the other Korvenites had been rescued from the prison transport and life in an internment camp. Yet freedom was still so new for him.

Maelstrom’s followers already onboard his ship had provided Vantor with velvety red robes after he took a marathon-length hydrobath. More notably, for his breakfast Vantor had damn near gorged himself on hard-boiled Tarkathian firebird eggs with spicy kurokoos sausages and several frosted goldberry cakes. These simple things—a full meal, actual clothes, a bath that didn’t consist in him getting knocked over by a hard water spray—had been denied to him on the Kumakiri Colony internment camps.

For the first time in his life Vantor felt safe. Currently, he sat cross-legged in a hard light hologram or HLHG replication of the aromatic longrass plains near Terra Sollus’s city-state Kercheval from what he’d been told. A deep orange sunset burned fiery pastels in the sky. The false plains were littered with squat gnarled trees, each adorned in dazzling ruby blossoms. The scene captivated him with its beauty. Sharing this scene with him were other Korvenites from that fateful transport seven days back, everyone seated in a circle. Rouma, sitting at Vantor’s right, looked refreshed and surprisingly happy. Cymae, at his left, also looked to be in high spirits. Vantor had just stretched out his mind, feeling both Rouma and Cymae on either side of him. Then his senses jumped sentient to sentient, and he could feel where everyone was in the circle.

Despite this being a fairly basic exercise for Mindspeak novices, the sensation was magnificent…staggering to Vantor. Like a blind sentient gazing up at the sky for the first time. All the psyches around him gushed forth rivers of emotion and verve, constantly churning.

All, but Khasos. For some reason he was more paranoid than Vantor had ever seen him. He barely felt Khasos in their link. But Vantor didn’t press the point. Like himself, Khasos had never known true freedom until now. In time, he would ease up.

[Mindspeak is never an easy ability to master, but you are all adept enough, strong enough to do so.]

Vantor sprang up in shock and saw
him
, standing a metrid away from the circle. Psychic murmurs of joy and pleasant surprise rippled throughout circle. Maelstrom, his long violet curls tied in a half-knot, was not wearing the armor and flowing cloak that amazed Vantor at their first meeting.

He donned only a simple dark crew shirt and slacks, which took away none of Maelstrom’s regal luster. In fact, when watching him through Mindspeak, the Korvenite leader had a luminescence that rolled off him in waves. Everyone stood up in reverence. However, Khasos hung behind, cowering.

“[I have something to show you,]” Maelstrom spoke out loud as he strolled forward. His gaze swept over the group, cutting through them like a knife. “[Come,]” Maelstrom’s eyes turned black as pitch.

Before Vantor could even say anything, he felt Maelstrom touch his mind, melding with his thoughts. The next thing Vantor knew, the holographic remake of Terra Sollus was gone. He was floating once more in the obsidian sea of space. His fellow Korvenites sensed the same impression.

“[Korvan protects us, my brethren. And through Him you will witness the supremacy of our race as we embrace our destiny.]”
Those were the words Maelstrom offered them, just enough to increase their courage. Vantor clung to Maelstrom’s psyche as he ascended into the heavens, pulling all of the Korvenites with him. They saw all that the llyriac saw as they flew past; new stars birthed by dark roiling nebulae, whole planets wiped out of existence as their stars went supernova, dazzling galaxies far away swirling endlessly. Worlds flashed past, each too quickly for Vantor to marvel at.

Finally the journey began slowing down. They approached what looked like a small, fading star. Maelstrom took them closer. Vantor gasped. Not a star, but a
planet!

Its surface was partially veiled under thick billows of ash. Below that were stretches of rocky terrain disfigured by countless craters and spidery chasms, each one spewing out fiery jets of lava. ‘Hommodus’ was what Maelstrom called it. Vantor gawked, unable to fathom how anyone could live here.

Korvan’s Anointed took them past the volcano world, to the farthest of its eight moons. A flicker of malevolence brushed against all their minds, and then the Korvenites, with Maelstrom, saw its source.

The journey then took them under the moon’s surface, through dank and badly lit caverns, finally halting in the middle of a gruesome skirmish. A large cadre of sentients, each sheathed in shiny golden armor, tore through various non-Korvenites. Blood sprayed, bones broke; the Korvenites fired off blast after blast of psionic energy from their chestplates, pounding the stunned non-Korvenites into lifeless pulps. Their lust of revenge, their faith in Korvan’s Way pulsated like heartbeats in each blow they struck, each energy beam they fired off. Vantor had to slap himself and realize that these soldiers weren’t right in front of him, but light-years away. Behind this wall of Korvan’s soldiers were hundreds of unarmed Korvenites, all withered, scarred and cowardly—just like Vantor was a week ago!

[These are Korvan’s soldiers—His Retributionaries.]
Maelstrom turned his brethren’s attention to the armored sentients.
[Through them, I free our fellow Korvenites, adding to our army.]

Vantor wanted to stay longer, but Maelstrom zoomed them away, Hommodus now a bright dot of reddish light. The worlds they visited blurred past in streaks. An instant later, Vantor was back in the holographic plains.

“[You just tasted our truest tapestry of Korvenite minds.]” Maelstrom thrust his fist into the soil and gathered up its salt, then extended his hand. In it was a cloud of dirt, swirling and twisting telekinetically into a small globe—Maelstrom’s simulacrum of Terra Sollus. “[Even though the Retributionaries are light-years away, I can see and call them. That is the power of the Unilink.]”

“[Lord Maelstrom?]”

Maelstrom turned his hand over, dumping the dirt back on the ground. “[Yes, Kurkyra?]”

The lanky female moved to the front. “[Why did you fail to recapture our world four years ago?]”

A stony hush swept over the group. “[Kyra! Show some respect—!]” Cymae scolded.

Maelstrom’s eyes flashed gold. “[That’s alright, Cymae.]” He turned to the young Korvenite who asked. “[I was arrogant, more sure of myself than in Korvan, so blinded by the injustice wrought by the humans that I made foolish mistakes. I felt that the Korvenites were alone in our crusade, but that was unwise. Countless Korvenites died because of my follies when the Union finally overran us then.]” The Korvenite stared at the ground wistfully, seeming vulnerable for the first time. “[But that was then.]”

Kurkyra scratched her wispy indigo hair. “[But what will make this time different?]”

“[Unadulterated faith in Korvan and because we are superior,]” Maelstrom’s face darkened. He walked up to Kurkyra, so close that she had to crane her head up to look at him. His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “[Korvan made us superior in every facet. We only need our minds to achieve any goal, while humans are completely reliant on their non-human puppets and weapons to fend off any threat. They are the bottom-feeders of this galaxy and we are the gods that will grind them beneath our heel.
Never
think any differently.]”

Kurkyra looked like one about to swoon. Vantor sensed her awe, her overwhelming desire for the llyriac. No doubt Korvan’s Anointed likewise sensed these emotions; he was just too gracious to acknowledge them. Maelstrom backed up slowly, his voice rising slightly. The Korvenite’s face brightened in the false dusk. “[And don’t underestimate the enemies that humans have accrued in their quest for power.]” He spread his arms wide. “[Those looking to engineer humanity’s fall are copious! How else would I have acquired this ship? How have I been able to extract you and our brethren from the Union slave pits with ease?]