Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) (20 page)

“What doesss that….?” The answer parted through Honaa’s confusion like a sun burning away morning fog. “You tipped him off to Habraum and your location at Ssst. Jamess Medcenter.”

Sam didn’t bother denying it. “I’d been keeping Habraum off Greystone’s radar the moment the Ministry of Defense forced him on us. If Greystone had tried bringing Habraum back himself, who knows the damage he could have done?”

“How ssssad,” Honaa hissed, not sounding remotely saddened.

Sam ignored the snark. “But when Ministry of Defense Intelligence received anonymous info on the identities of the parties hospitalized by the Corowood Zoo attack…

“…Greysstone comes to Ssst. Jamess to bring Habraum back in as Ssstar Brigade XO,” Honaa finished for Sam, eyes wide with appalled disbelief.

“Yep,” Sam nodded, unashamed. “After Greystone’s big mouth insulted both me and Star Brigade’s current state, Habraum offers to return without me having to ask. Habraum back in the game, Star Brigade saved from closure.” She proudly made a dusting off motion with her hands.

Honaa stared at her. He needed no reminder of how conniving Sam could be when the situation required, pulling stunts like this without forgiveness or permission. But manipulating someone she claimed was her closest friend?  “Isss there a line you won’t crossss?”

“I’ll tell you when I find it,” she replied to his disdain with a smug nod. “Look at the results! We’re functional again, no?”

“For now.”

Sam bristled. “Holy mother of
fuck
, Honaa. Can’t you just enjoy that we’re safe?” She pushed off the desk, annoyed. Honaa ground his teeth, realizing that her words were true. Star Brigade had received a stay of execution. Now they could focus on rebuilding, something he had wanted for months. Fifteen Brigadiers excluding Honaa, Nwosu and Sam had been selected for combat team development, Along with that, an abridged senior staff had been designated; Nwosu as Brigade Executive Officer of course, Sam as chief intelligence officer, their Xyobic medcenter head Dr. Simony the chief medical officer, Honaa as chief operations & training officer and the starbase administrator Lethe agreeing to serve as communications and logistics officer. The day after tomorrow, once their chosen Brigadiers returned to Hollus, there would be an all-hands meeting to discuss the Brigade’s future. Good things were happening, for the first time in months. So why wasn’t this enough for Honaa now?

Sam didn’t wait for a reply. “Anyway, I know we dismissed that doctor Liliana Cortes for her lack of field training. But I’d like to bring her in anyway.”

Honaa vaguely recalled the reserve candidate Sam spoke of, some human female from the Terra Sollus Spanish nation Navarre. Both Habraum and Honaa actually agreed to pass on bringing her out of reserves. Mainly for her gross lack of field and combat training, coupled with her inactivity since completing a dual medical fellowship aboard Hollus Maddrone over a year ago. The Rothorid captain looked Sam over in perplexity. “Why?”

The human woman looked annoyed by what she clearly considered an obtuse question. “I gotta good feeling about her. Someone with Cortes’s potential could be very effective with proper training.”

“Ah yesss,” Honaa did remember Cortes after a few moments; timid and soft-spoken with short cropped hair. Sonic manipulation was her maximal ability. She had doctorate degrees in xenobiology, xenoimmunology and interspecies medicine earned from one of Galdor’s top medical universities, followed by a residency at the Galdorian Interstellar Research Center—all by the tender age of twenty-four. Honaa had seen her a few times in Hollus’s Medcenter during her two-year fellowship. “That’sss the point. Other than mandatory sssessionsss on fitnessss and controlling her abilitiesss, Cortesss had almossst no field training at all. Not even clossse to being a field candidate.”

“All our active field medics who were full doctors are gone, Honaa,” Sam reminded him.

“Then we can look to PLADECO’s A.N.T division or the Ssspace Marine TROJANs for doctorsss,” Honaa replied, refusing to bend. He had bent too much, making Sam forget who the commanding officer was in their relationship.

“You know what message that sends?” Sam retorted sharply. “Star Brigade can’t cultivate its own talent anymore. Cortes is one of ours. We should bring her in.”

Honaa opened his mouth to respond, until he realized how right she was again. Why was he fighting this silly little decision so vehemently? Honaa straightened up and sighed in concession. “Do what you feel is necessssary. It’sss not like you actually follow ordersss anymore.” Honaa immediately regretted the last part, but bitterness had loosened his tongue before he could stop himself.

“I’d follow the orders,” Sam fired back, cool as ice, “if the officer giving them still gave a shit.”

The charge might as well have been a slap across Honaa’s face. He strode forward until he was a mere inch or two away from Sam, towering over her. “You forget your place, Commander,” he warned through gritted teeth, his rasping voice razor-sharp. “I sstrongly advissse you to
remember it
.”

Sam’s response was a barbed smile that could cut through iron, never reaching her eyes. Loathing twisted in the Rothorid’s belly, but not for her. She shook her head in disdain, snatching up her commander’s jacket to walk past him and out of the room.

Does she have even a shred of respect for me anymore?
The question hung unanswered in Honaa’s thoughts long after Sam’s departure. He was afraid what that answer might be. Honaa had turned a blind eye for too long to her underhanded stunts, because of how the Brigade benefited and it allowed him not to dirty his own talons—and paid for it now with Sam’s open scorn. That should have concerned Honaa more…as well as his eroding value in Star Brigade. All of this made him feel his years and fleetingly regret declining the regular biomodification therapy many undergo to fight the relentless foe called age.

And my other health problem doesn’t help
, he brooded. For weeks now the magnetic pull of his homeworld had grown. Honaa yearned to see his companion, their offspring and Rothor IV’s humid swamps. He had been away too long, since Beridaas.

But Honaa couldn’t go back yet.
Not with Star Brigade in its current state.
Honor your duty, honor your family
, the creed ingrained into every Rothorid who took positions of public service like Honaa had. Leaving the Brigade as it was, no matter how much he yearned to, would bring shame on his offspring back on Rothor IV. Only after things were secure could he entertain such personal wants. Honaa exited his office, planning on retiring to his quarters. Yet to be surrounded by reminders of family in his current state of mind? A walk would be good; clear his thoughts of that unpleasant meeting.

A walk around the sleek and warm-hued corridors of Hollus Maddrone’s Star Brigade sections brought little relief. Neither did dinner in the Holosphere commissary with two younger recruits. Bevrolor vo Azelten, a big and beefy Nubrideen female with a wild mop of curly pale green hair who stood just taller than Honaa, and the near-seven-foot Kintarian V’Korram Prydyri-Ravlek who towered over them both. It always mystified Honaa what these two friends even had in common, given V’Korram’s overall surliness and Bevrolor’s abrasively low opinion of everything male. Honaa had little hunger for his small bowl of plump, segmented fireworms. The tawny-furred Kintarian, brusque and growly as usual, preferred tearing into a bloody haunch of yosk meat with his teeth than talking. Bevrolor, however, barely touched her kurokoos pot pie. The thickset Nubrideen glowered at Honaa with three blood-red eyes set deep in her coarse grey-skinned face, impatiently pressing for details on tomorrow’s all-hands. “Is Star Brigade being decommissioned…sir?” In her blunt, unfeminine tenor the question sounded like a demand. The Nubree native still wasn’t fully inured to male authority.

Honaa wanted to say more. Bevrolor’s wait for combat team placement went back three years since transferring from Nubree’s branch of the Union Interplanetary Police Agency aka UniPol. And Honaa knew V’Korram couldn’t return to his homeworld Kintare if Star Brigade shutdown. But Habraum had forbid any disclosure until tomorrow, so the Rothorid only offered, “All will be explained sssoon.”

That evening, sleep came quickly to wash away the day’s failings under a dreamless black tide.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Honaa, while still groggy from sleep, , recalled his reasons for staying with the Brigade beyond the Rothorid creed. Feeling as if he’d been walloped upside the snout, the Rothorid threw on some clothes and stalked out of his quarters as if on a hunt.

Honor your duty, honor your family.
That was the Rothorid way
, he reminded himself on the translifter ride to his destination. The high-speed transport through Hollus zoomed down, to the right, then straight up for several macroms. Facing his dead comrades and the burden of his duty, Honaa’s own petty wants always melted away. The translifter door slid open in front of the Memorial Hall, its rounded golden entranced against ivory-white walls, resembling a place of worship almost.

This hall was dedicated to the Star Brigadiers whom had fallen in active combat during the organization’s three decade existence, residing in one of the top levels of Hollus Maddrone since the Brigade moved onto the starbase fifteen years ago. A part of Honaa hated subjecting himself to the life-like sight of those Brigadiers who had perished in battle. But whenever he had wavered over the past year, standing inside the Memorial Hall always fortified his resolve. He needed that reminder today.

Honor your duty by honoring their memory.
Honaa’s burden took on more significance with vengeance and blood involved. Not only would Rothorid society or his family not forgive him for leaving Star Brigade, but he himself wouldn’t either. Honaa pressed a clawed hand on the handprint scanner next to the door. The golden egress slid open, revealing a room vast in size but spare in trappings, filled with platforms that immortalized departed Brigadiers by way of life-sized holograms.

There must have been over fifty holos, every one of them partitioned by the mission that brought about their demise and dappled by auric halolights overhead. The holos, on request would display a detailed profile on each Brigadier; field position, ranking, missions. Every Brigadier appeared dressed for battle in custom and at times colorful field outfits distinct from their UComm military uniforms and different from each other’s. After visiting the Memorial Hall countless times Honaa was familiar with all the departed, but the number of whom that he had personally known having grown far too numerous for his liking. Honaa scanned about, spotted his reasons for not leaving…and froze in surprise.

The first reason he saw was a life-sized holo of Captain Jovian Ivers, codenamed
Blitzkrieg
.

The human male from Gavron Colony was well-built, about the same height as Habraum Nwosu, with a curly mop of dark hair and a grim line for a mouth. The slant in his dark eyes spoke of partial Asiatic descent, though most humans of Earth descent were usually of mixed ethnicities. Ivers had been a hard and flawed individual. But to this day, Honaa could name few finer, more dedicated combat operatives. At Ivers’s side were holos of his entire combat team; 1
st
Lt. Ariel Ramos aka Ursa Major, fierce and fun-loving; stalk-eyed Galdorian commander Hihlurkrys Nurmij aka Sever, arrogant but always educating others; 1
st
Lt. Iokoi Jnos aka Shattershock, a Nnaxan female with a quiet intensity; 2
nd
Lt. Eris Tichulsen of Uord aka Crashdown, iceborn human with a fiery temper; the quick and brutal
Pyshyymite Ensign Alng aka Blockade.

After Alng were holos of the deceased members from Habraum Nwosu’s previous combat team—
1
st
Lt. Callisto Bailey Scott aka Minerva; Phnu Koellescha aka Bravo, a Rhomeran Ensign; the colossal Suuruali Dr. Pel Makenokom aka Thanatos; 2
nd
Lt. Deida Jylhur-Goljeim aka Tomcat, a Kintarian female; and finally an unjoined and nameless Kethesena male known only by his codename Rake.

All were excellent Star Brigadiers slain on Beridaas—all dead before their time.

Yet Honaa’s surprise came not from any holos, but from the Hall of Heroes’ other occupant.

Habraum Nwosu stood with his back to Honaa, staring a hole into these dead Brigadiers.

For a moment Honaa thought he was seeing another holo. The sight of Nwosu in the flesh and in the Memorial Hall was befuddling…jarring. “You’re here,” Honaa blurted out.

“Clearly,” the Cerc answered, his voice strangely thick. As much as Nwosu tried hiding it, Honaa could hear grief bleeding through. “The sprout and I got in last night. When did you add them?”

“A week after the military funeral.” A cold grasp clutched at the Rothorid’s spine as he walked up to Habraum’s left. Leaving Star Brigade now would mean that these Brigadiers all died for nothing. Honaa could not—
would not
leave until Star Brigade was functional again.

The Rothorid and the Cercidalean human stood silent for many moments, an unspoken benediction to those lost over a year ago. He stole occasional glances at his former protégé. The agony flickering in Habraum’s golden eyes only confirmed what the Rothorid had suspected. The Cerc must have willfully pushed this loss away in light of his wife’s death over a year ago. But seeing his former teammates now was a white-hot anguish searing through every vein until the very thought of those he’d loved like family scorched his insides. Having endured this type of suffering himself too many times to count, Honaa had anticipated some satisfaction in watching Habraum endure it as well.  But no joy blossomed inside the Rothorid, just…embittered remorse.