Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) (36 page)

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Authors: C.C. Ekeke

Tags: #Military Sci-Fi, #Space Opera

BOOK: Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1)
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He needed to talk to someone not in Star Brigade, someone who had calmed his fears in the past. Without a second thought, he placed the disk into his right ear, where it fit perfectly. Habraum inhaled deeply, concentrating on the disk’s cold feel. At once the disk sent a flow of energy through his body. The room flooded in a hazy yellow blur, abruptly flashing by Habraum at scary speeds.

The speeding yellow stopped and evened out into an infinite expanse, all of it saturated in streams of gold. Several lengthy, metallic spires stretched and crisscrossed endlessly through the golden sky all around him. Habraum whistled aloud, as he was no longer sitting on his bed, but standing on a wide boardwalk overlooking the golden rivers. Bright yellow flashes swirled, swelled and rippled the yellow sky into chaos. Cyberspace, or at least a manifestation that his mind could understand.

Habraum Nwosu.
A two-pitched voiced boomed across the vast Cyberspace construct. Habraum turned in the voice’s direction, undaunted.

Several metrids ahead of him was the rounded end of the boardwalk, similar to a starscraper landing dock. In its center, a humanoid sat cross-legged facing Habraum. The Cerc squinted, too far away for a good look. Plus, the constant flashes in the sky reflected way too many shimmers off the being’s metallic body—or was it also how this odd humanoid was silhouetted by the rippling, shifting golden sky behind it? Habraum had no clue, but still walked closer to investigate.

He approached and the humanoid’s features grew clearer. Definitely womanly in figure, tall and slim, obvious to Habraum no matter the distance. A silvery sheathe of technology and other complex mechanisms coated her physique, which would look out of place on a humanoid body. But not hers. Several wire-like tendrils snaked out from sections on her figure, connecting with the never-ending spires that stretched and scissored across the boardwalk. The face and upper shoulders were metallic, pale gold in sheen. Atop the female’s head were a number of shiny, crimson nodules protruding upward. Her features were aquiline and displayed no warmth, embossed by thin concentric ring patterns that made her look more like a character from some tech noir holofilm.

Here sat a humanoid Cybernarr in the flesh, or at least in its manifestation in Cyberspace, unchanged since Habraum had last seen her. Despite how humanoid her features looked, the sharp jutting jaw, the minimal nose, and the rhomboid-shaped eyes all conveyed an alien quality that Habraum knew had nothing to do with her cybernetic components. The resemblance to the Cybernarr’s Ganttarian creators endured, no matter how many cybernetic and organic upgrades had occurred over the centuries.

Xenoarchaeologists have claimed few star-spanning realms grew as vast, advanced or dominant as the Ganttarian Empire. At least, until the Empire’s near six millennia reign ended over a thousand years ago. The Ganttarians’ fall had bloomed from creating cyborg soldiers in their own anthropoid-like image to police a dangerously bloated realm. These cybernetic armatures, or Cybernarr, were ruthless in their obedience and drive to protect their overlords. The ability to network with each other’s AIs and adapt quickly to enemy tactics allowed Cybernarr to become brutally efficient combat units. They had helped the Ganttarians smash the nearly victorious rebellion of the Kedri, then a truculent Ganttarian vassal. The Cybernarr would have eradicated the whole Kedri race if not for the Ganttarians sparing them as a warning to other subjects—and birthing the Cybernarr and Kedri ‘Eternal War’ that still continued today.

Within a century those same advantages had led the Cybernarr to start questioning orders, and soon grow aware of their Ganttarian overlords’ dependency on them. Realizing the potential danger, the Empire had moved to destroy their creations with unshakable confidence in the outcome.

In less than a year, the outcome had been as obvious then as it was centuries later. The Cybernarr had migrated into the Dracius Cluster afterward, leaving all Ganttarian-populated worlds shattered in their wake. The scant remnant of surviving Ganttarians were then chased from their own realm by many vengeful, former vassals—a humiliating testament to their extinguished power.

Habraum continued approaching, yet Marguliese’s eyes and mouth stayed shut, showing no reaction to him. Once he stood about a metrid away, the Cybernarr’s voice boomed again.
It has been numerous months since we communicated.
Her features remained motionless.

Habraum flicked a casual glance at his surroundings. “Indeed it has, Marguliese.”

The Cerc could’ve sworn he saw the threat of a smile teasing at Marguliese’s mouth.
Still you employ that moniker you bestowed on me eight cycles ago.

“Would you rather I try pronouncing your crossword puzzle of a name?” The Cerc took another quick look at his environment, notably different from the prior times he had visited Cyberspace.

I assume that you are no longer on one of the Libratta Systems with your son?

Habraum stared at her.
That’s an odd query.
“No, we returned to Union Space months ago.”

Unfortunate. We have missed each other then.

“What do you mean?”

I am no longer part of the Cybernarr Technoarchy. I have removed myself from their realm in the Dracius Cluster.
Marguliese’s eyes opened, burning like two cold blue stars.
And detached from the Technoarchy’s Connectivity.

“What?” Habraum spat out, meeting the Cybernarr’s stare head-on. “How did that happen?”

Before your release from Technoarchy Space, I encountered a non-Cybernarr. I conceived his child and attempted to raise it in secret. The Technoarchy found out and destroyed it
. She relayed the story so impersonally, as if updating Habraum on a ship’s repair schedule.

Many had already begun questioning my stand on ‘inferior races’ during your custody
, Marguliese continued with almost no vocal inflection.
After this occurrence, they would have terminated me had I remained. So I aborted all connection with the Technoarchy.

Habraum had no idea any Cybernarr could voluntarily leave the Technoarchy, or breed for that matter. “Marguliese,” he squatted down to face her directly. “I am so sorry—.”

Your empathy is needless.
The Cybernarr cut him off, her eyes glowing.
I regret none of my selections. Now, you clearly desire to alleviate your mind. Speak.

Habraum stared at her. He should be used to her coldness, but after all this time it still irked him.

“I…” The Cerc was about to vent to Marguliese about Star Brigade, but an idea caught the words in his throat. The nightmares. Seeing the disk in his moment of need. Marguliese disconnecting from the Technoarchy.
Is this one of those nudges from The Twins?

The idea struck Habraum then, a wild and impossible notion filling his brain.
No way.
Khrome’s hatred of the Cybernarr ran bone deep.

The Thulican would kill Habraum for this. Union Command would undoubtedly arrest him for treason. And the Kedri, the Union’s son-to-be trade partners? The Cerc couldn’t let those concerns burden him.
I won’t lose another combat team.

“I’m back with Star Brigade,” Habraum spoke again, exuding a calm poise he did not feel. “But my combat team is light years from being field ready. I need your help. I need you…on Star Brigade.”

Truly?
Marguliese said as a few yellow ciphers reflected off her arms.
Of course I will assist you.

Habraum’s mouth went dry. He gawked at the Cybernarr. “You’ll help? Just like that?”

Would you rather I draw out my response time for your offer?

“Oh no,” Habraum said hastily. “It’s probably best that I come get you, most likely after tomorrow.” A Cybernarr trying to enter Union Space would surely grab UComm Border Security’s attention, particular with the anti-Cybernarr tech they employ.

Will my presence create any problems for you?

Habraum thought of the risks; UComm, the Kedri, the Thulicans. Khrome. “Let me fret over those problems,” he said adamantly.

 

19.

Liliana Cortes heard the news last night.

She was one of seven Brigadiers chosen for today’s UComm field exercise. Her reaction had been a medley of shock, anxiety and queasiness.

The queasiness didn’t present itself until morning, after Liliana ate a nouribar for breakfast.

She ran to the lavatory and retched the food back out.


Madre,
I’m a doctor, not a Star Brigade field operative,” she moaned while washing her mouth out with water. In the mirror her honey complexion had turned ashen, her delicate features awash with fright. She gripped the sink, fingers trembling. When Liliana had told her parents about reenlisting in Star Brigade, her doctor mother’s horrorstruck expression painfully came to mind—quickly followed by frosty contempt. The Cortes matriarch’s disapproval had been even worse than when Liliana accepted the xenoimmunology fellowship on Hollus three years prior.
She knew you weren’t strong enough
, a voice scolded. And with how rough these three weeks had been since Lily left her boring, but cushy job on Terra Sollus to rejoin Star Brigade, her mother’s pitiless skepticism didn’t seem so unfounded.

When it came to shooting with her sonic abilities or firearms, Lily’s accuracy was exceptional. She could thank Sam thank for that, dating back to when they trained together during her medical fellowship.

Every other aspect of her Brigade training had been a disaster.

The end of each day brought new aches and bruises from bungling her way through field simulations, barely surviving survival training, getting trounced daily in hand-to-hand combat drills.

The lone solace Lily had found was from her Medcenter night shifts. While its primary functions were to serve the officers aboard Hollus Maddrone, the Medcenter’s other main function was medical research. The latter aspect had been the incentive that convinced Liliana to become a full-time Brigadier in the first place. Her Medcenter boss, Chief Medical Officer Rwynyr Simony was an odd but chipper Xyobian xenobiologist, with a proclivity for random cartwheels…in midsentence. He had been nothing but encouraging of her research on the physiology of maximums, never questioning her research choice. “As long as you’re producing results that can get published and aren’t wasting my resources, study Kheldoroshii mating habits for all I care!” So Liliana had no intention of sharing her reasons.

The doctor had half-hoped that her poor training performance would place her in the Medcenter full-time. But now having to go on a field exercise where she would most like embarrass herself and Star Brigade…on a spaceship traveling through hyperspace. Her stomach churned into queasy knots again.

Then Liliana remembered both Sam and Captain Nwosu’s faith in her from day one. This and a queer desire to prove that contemptible Kintarian, V’Korram, wrong hit Liliana like a ruthless meteor strike, goading her into her the black, silver and red field uniform.

Dios Mío,
Liliana thought as soon as she reached the launch bay where Star Brigade would be departing. A huge, sleek battle cruiser loomed before her. She knew enough about space vessels to identify this one as Century-class in size, easily dwarfing the shuttle which Liliana had taken to Hollus. The nose was a spoon-shaped front beak, tipping the elongated triangular-middle region and half-discus wings on either side near the rear engine section. Both wings were studded with pointy weaponry. A shimmering cobalt hull coated the cruiser, with some glowing areas sprinkled here and there.

Dock workers and astromechanics buzzed like worker bees around the ship and the open entrance ramp jutted out of its belly, making certain that the ship was ready for the rigors of deep space travel. All the safety precautions did zilch to dissuade Liliana’s fears—and space sickness! She stood frozen, legs unresponsive. “We’re going in
that?
” she whispered.

“Actually, yes,” boomed a deep, accented voice. Liliana turned to see Captain Nwosu striding up to her left. He had shaved away any stubble that sprouted during training, leaving only a well-trimmed goatee. His outfit varied considerably from her standard Brigadier outfit. The white and royal green colored nanoweave armor with goldenrod shoulder plates, gauntlets and boots, fit his broad-shouldered and sinewy physique like a glove, cutting quite a formidable image.

“The
Phaeton
’s a beauty. One of three new attack cruisers straight from the UComm Shipyards at Mekaal.” Nwosu gazed at the ship affectionately, his eyes sparkling like twin pools of gold. He then noted Liliana’s lack of enthusiasm. “You weren’t expecting a rubbish name like
Bird-of-Prey
, yea?”

“No sir,” Liliana fake-smiled, her stomach twisting up again. Nwosu’s face was more handsome and approachable when he wasn’t in command mode barking orders.

Nwosu studied her more closely. “You yakked this morning.” It wasn’t a question.

His hazel-gold stare hit like a neuro-stungun. Liliana stared back blankly.
Whoa!
Forget the nausea. Her round cheeks warmed and she nodded guiltily.

The Cerc captain chuckled. He towered over Liliana by over half a foot. “Lemme guess, the bollaberry and cream nouribar?”

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