Star Brigade: Odysseys - An Anthology (15 page)

“[But I don’t want to die like this…ebbing away…alone.]”

In his failing eyes, Rouma saw the human shake his head. “[I’ll make it as painless as possible.]”

“[My…thanks… Anointed One,]” Rouma’s words came out so soft he was afraid they went unheard.

Thankfully, they weren’t. “[Enough with the titles and the aliases, Rouma. Call me…Isydryas. Until we meet again in Illyria.]”  He rested a hand on Rouma’s clammy forehead.

The surrounding charred debris, the dirty skies, and the chill numbing Rouma’s body faded.

Now he saw rolling hills, sparkling lakes, and clear skies. The region now called Oklorada Basin, untouched by Union hands, unclaimed by earthborn defilers.

Sollus, as Rouma had remembered it almost thirty years ago.

In this illusion, Rouma was no longer armored or crippled. He could stand tall again, whole and healed. His companion and their two children, all killed years before the first Korvenite Rebellion, stood beside him.

In the real world, Maelstrom’s arms wrapped around Rouma, one encircling his head while another snaked over his armored torso in the opposite direction. Both arms tightened, especially the one holding his torso steady.

Rouma barely felt that.
I’m finally home.
He gazed up at the sunny skies with a smile…

…right as Maelstrom gave his head a quick, hard twist.

A white-hot jolt shivered through Rouma’s body. Then everything went black.

“Now turn around.”

Jeremy Nwosu did as told and turned to face the floating 8’x4’ holomirror. This was the first time he’d been allowed to mostly dress himself. Too bad it wasn’t for a more fun occasion.

Under bright and warm halolights, the boy saw himself very dressed up, in a black suit and collarless white shirt. His bushy, dark brown fro had been trimmed to a manageable length which he cared little for. Jeremy was in his small room cabin on the
Crimsonborn
, his father’s personal freighter space yacht.

His light brown skin looked flushed, probably from how anxious he felt about today.

Behind Jeremy sat the human who’d helped dress him, his father Captain Habraum Nwosu.

In the holomirror, the large Cercidalean was taller sitting in a bed than Jeremy was standing up, bald and broad-shouldered with a trimmed goatee, and chocolate brown skin much darker than Jeremy’s. Daddy had his full military uniform on, black and grey and high-collared, but with the colorful rank emblems and insignias he didn’t usually wear. The crimsonborn silently studied his son’s attire in the mirror, smoothing out or tugging at any rumples to straighten them out.

“Brilliant,” his father exclaimed after several moments. His hands rested on Jeremy’s shoulders, engulfing them in his massive grip. “You look grand, sprout.”

Jeremy gave a little shrug and said nothing, watching his father intently through the mirror.

From Jeremy’s experience, the older crimsonborn’s hazel-gold eyes always reflected his moods: warm and liquid in happiness, cold and hard in anger, clouded and dim in sadness.

Though Daddy was smiling, Jeremy saw the sadness in his eyes. And he knew why.

Daddy’s friend, Mr. Honaa, had died almost a week ago. Even worse, he had died exactly like Mommy had—in a ship explosion.

Now Daddy and his Star Brigade workfellows had come to Rothor IV for the funeral.

Jeremy had been only to one funeral before, his mother’s. He had cried a lot, but didn’t sob. “Cercidaleans are like the rocks of our homeworld, solid and durable,” his father had said many times. “Cercs don’t crumble when life tries to break us.” 

Jeremy was only half-Cerc, and hated funerals. But he promised himself not to cry like he had at Mommy’s funeral, which would be easy. Jeremy didn’t even know Mr. Honaa that well.

“Okay,” Daddy rose slowly from the bed, very slowly. His strong-jawed face tensed up as if in pain. “We’ll head over to the funeral in a few.” He walked toward the room exit with a noticeable limp.

Jeremy made a face at the prospect of venturing out into the muggy outsides. But he said nothing, only nodding.

Before this week the boy had never visited the Rothorid homeworld. Within a day of arriving, he quickly decided he never wanted to visit again.

Everywhere he’d been in this region of Rothor IV was muggy, smelly, foggy and really,
really
hot. So hot, Jeremy thought at times he was sweating despite the TempReg tech in his clothes. He had wanted to go to Rothor IV and be with his father. Now he really
wanted to go back home to Hollus Maddrone or to his grandparents’ home on Terra Sollus like his father had suggested.

But Daddy was here with all his workfellows for Mr. Honaa’s funeral. Daddy had been so sad all week. Suddenly Jeremy felt bad about wanting to leave Rothor IV.

And he knew exactly what his father would say if he complained about the planet. “Cercidaleans don’t bellyache over nonsense like crap weather.”

So Jeremy made an effort to say as little as possible and not to complain. That way he wouldn’t upset Daddy. Especially since his father had been in the hospital a few days because of getting hurt at work.

“Been real quiet since we reached Rothor IV, sprout,” his father said as he lingered near the door exit. “Everything ollrigh’?”

Don’t make him upset.
Jeremy nodded quickly and mutely.

That didn’t convince his father one bit. “Use your voice. The Twins gave you one for a reason.”

“I’m fine,” Jeremy murmured, avoiding his father’s unflinching gaze. He started fidgeting with his hands, but stopped.

“You don’t sound fine,” Daddy approached. With a look of great discomfort he lowered himself to one knee in front of the boy, tilting his chin up so their eyes met. “C’mon lad, what’s this about?”

Jeremy let out a heavy sigh. He tried to keep quiet, but knew Daddy wouldn’t take silence for an answer. “Because Mr. Honaa’s dead. And you’re sad. I don’t want to make you more sad, like you were when Mummy died.”

His father stared back at the boy in momentary disbelief. Then he chuckled and gave a slight shake of his head. “You sweet little boy.” He placed a hand on Jeremy’s left shoulder. “I’m going to be sad no matter what, lad. Honaa is…Honaa
was
a close friend. And your dad misses him very much.” His father gave him a soft pat on the face, like he usually did. “You can ask any questions you have about this, yea?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Jeremy nodded. Hearing that had lifted this weird heavy feeling off his chest. He had a lot of questions. Best to start asking, since it wouldn’t upset his father more. “Is Mr. Honaa now in the same place as Mummy?”

The question made his father’s mouth pull into a smile. His clean-shaven head gleamed under the room’s halolights. “I’d like to think so.”

Jeremy frowned. “But how?” he asked, confused. “They aren’t even the same species. And Rothorids don’t worship the Holy Gemini.”

“Smart lad,” his dad said with one of his long, serious looks that always made Jeremy feel so small. “What I do know is that they are both watching over us now…wherever they may be.”

“Even if they’re in different paradises?”

His father nodded and scratched at his trimmed goatee. “Absolutely, sprout. They’re in…similar paradises.”

Now Jeremy was more confused. “I don’t get it. Why doesn’t the Union just make every species worship the same religion?”

Daddy rose to his feet, wincing the whole way. “Would make it easier, yea?” he asked, trying to cover his pain with a chuckle.

Jeremy was serious. He put on his most serious face as he looked all the way up at his father. “But why don’t they? Then we’d know Mr. Honaa and Mummy are in the same paradise.”

Daddy shook his head then, still amused. He placed a hand on Jeremy’s back and guided him toward the room exit. “The Union doesn’t work that way, sprout. Now, we can get on about this later,” his father said as the boy opened his mouth with another question. “I need you to be really good for Mr. Honaa’s family and my coworkers at the service. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Jeremy nodded his head vigorously. He promised himself today to be a rock, like a true Cercidalean. “Can I ask one more question?”

“Sure,” his father said. Jeremy’s room’s door slid open before them.

“Why do our family and friends keep dying?”

His father froze in his tracks. He stared up at the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as if to steady his emotions, and Jeremy quickly regretted the question.
I made him sad
, the boy fretted.

He was about to apologize when his father spoke again. “Only the Twins know, Jeremy,” the tall Cerc replied in a quiet voice. He began walking again, taking his son by the hand. “Come on, then.”

The moment they stepped outside the
Crimsonborn
, the humid temperature smacked Jeremy in the face. The fact that he and his father didn’t melt into puddles of goo was surprising. A Unionjack shuttle filled with Daddy’s workfellows was waiting. All of them had on their formal UComm uniforms.

Jeremy saw Auntie Sammie, who looked pale and even sadder than Daddy. She did, however, have a smile and a hug for the boy. Everyone else was friendly and said ‘hi’; the tall Terranborn Dr. Cortés; the burly metal-skinned Thulican, Khrome, and the lean ice crystal guy, Tyris. The tawny Kintarian that Daddy had referred to as ‘Prydyri-Ravlek’ said nothing, scowling at everything and everyone. Jeremy’s father was really tall, but Prydyri-Ravlek towered over even him. His yellow eyes with their green flecks fell upon Jeremy.

The boy waved.

The Kintarian didn’t smile back, but he did wink before looking away to scowl at the ceiling.

The only being not on the Unionjack was that scary cyborg lady friend of Daddy’s. Jeremy didn’t remember her even coming to Rothor IV.

“She couldn’t make it,” Daddy had said a day ago, without any further explanation. The tone of his father’s voice had discouraged Jeremy from inquiring further.

Jeremy found it odd how Daddy and Auntie Sammie didn’t say much to each other after everyone sat down. In fact, barely anyone spoke during the whole trip to the Temple of Greater Wuirothao, which took about ten macroms. Unfortunately, that meant they had to go outside again. Jeremy stifled a groan, remembering to be on his best behavior.

The Temple of Greater Wuirothao had been built on a vast bog, but visitors could enter by way of the hardlight bridges leading up to the entrance. Jeremy looked down at the murkiest, muddiest water he’d ever seen in his life. The thought of falling into that made him walk faster.

Even when they walked right up to the entrance, the massive spiral-shaped temple looked like just a dark brownish silhouette, thanks to all the muggy fog. Its three jagged pinnacles were shaped like teeth, rising up into a hazy greyish-brown gloom.

Once inside the foyer, Jeremy stayed at his father’s side as he greeted what appeared to be a never-ending procession of Rothorids, some marooned-scaled like Mr. Honaa, others green-skinned. Quite a few had black scales or bluish scales. Jeremy had no clue which ones were Mr. Honaa’s family, or if all of them were. Every Rothorid sounded alike with their hissing dialogue. Jeremy also noticed was how stick-straight their tails were when speaking with Daddy, which Auntie Sammie had said was a huge show of respect.

After the Rothorid parade ended, a number of other non-Rothorids came up to Daddy as they entered the temple’s inner sanctum where the funeral would be held. All of them had on military outfits too.

The inner sanctum was shaped like a huge half-circle, with vaulted transparent ceilings and patterned walls, showcasing a smooth, shiny bronze color. The pitch-black benches were divided by two aisle ways into three sections, all in long rounded structures to fit with the half-circle design of the inner sanctum. Even inside a building, a faint humid mist hung in the air. A soft chorus of rattling combined with zig-zaggy-sounding hissing played in the background. This must have been the funeral music, but Jeremy couldn’t find anything musical about those noises. He took in all the sights and sounds, until his eyes landed at the very front of the inner sanctum. The boy jolted back.

Floating to the right of the speaking podium was a 3D holographic bust of Mr. Honaa’s head and shoulders, identical down to the triangle shape of the muzzle. Jeremy inched closer to his father, hoping they wouldn’t have to sit close to that. But the seats all were beginning to fill up, so Jeremy tugged at his father’s hand so they could grab some seats quickly.

“This way, lad,” Daddy guided him forward. “We’re up there with Mr. Honaa’s family.”

‘Up there’ meant the very front of the inner sanctum.

Jeremy cringed away. But his much bigger and stronger father kept moving, almost dragging the boy forward until he came willingly.
You promised to behave
, Jeremy scolded himself, and scurried to catch up with his father’s long, limping strides.

While they walked, Auntie Sammie explained that since Mr. Honaa died defending the Union with Star Brigade at his side, the seating arrangement was a place of honor for Daddy, Auntie Sammie and their workfellows. Strangely, that made Jeremy feel less weird for having to stare at Mr. Honaa’s head.

Jeremy sat between Daddy and Auntie Sammie in the front, while the rest of Daddy’s Star Brigade workfellows sat in the bench behind them. Soon Honaa’s family arrived: twin teenagers who looked almost exactly like Mr. Honaa, even down to his maroon skin. Then Jeremy saw three smaller Rothorids, clearly preteens like him. One youngling’s scaly skin was bright green, another had a pale maroon coloring and a third was covered in cool ivory skin and blood-red eyes. All had super serious looks on their tightly clamped muzzles.

Behind the offspring stood a lean and petite Rothorid with darker green scales, muzzle clamped shut, eyes hard as diamonds. Though Rothorid males and females didn’t bear too many differences in physiques, Jeremy instantly knew this Rothorid was a she-Rothorid and Mr. Honaa’s partner. And that meant these five younglings were Mr. Honaa’s offspring. Jeremy gulped. How bad was it for them when they found out about Mr. Honaa? Jeremy remembered when he was told about Mommy not coming back. At first the boy didn’t believe it—
refused
to. Sometimes he had dreams that she was still alive.

Those thoughts made Jeremy’s eyes get itchy and his stomach feel queasy, so he pushed the bad memories of Mommy away and focused on being as nice as possible to Mr. Honaa’s family.

He smiled big like Daddy would when greeting Mr. Honaa’s partner and her offspring. But they were all very terse in their hellos, not friendly at all. Jeremy frowned, wondering what he had done wrong.