Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) (2 page)

“The Ttaunz and Farooqua conflict is reaching critical mass, despite Union Command sending assistance to contain the situation,” Fel said, hands behind his back. “The Ttaunz seize land outside their borders, and the Farooqua strike back in their…arcane ways.” “Arcane”, was an understatement. These past few years, the conflict had not only grown less one-sided, but drastically more
other
.

Thaomé rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. And the Ttaunz’s PLADECO forces retaliate even more brutally, thanks to some lone radical uniting many of the Farooqua tribes. I’m not a youngling in need of tutelage, Tomoriq.” The silver-haired Korvenite pursed her lips, which glimmered with silvery gloss.

“Since you are at the summit of know-how,” Fel replied tersely, “then you are well aware that the conflict is a hairsbreadth from escalating into planetary civil war. Many megacorps will no longer trade in the Herope Cross, causing grave damage to the Union economy and our interests.”

“Faroor’s destabilization reaches far beyond lost revenue.” Thaomé shook her head condescendingly, fixated on Faroor’s lone moon of Qos. “Any semi-sentient with three working neurons knows this.”

“I know the stakes, Korvenite,” Fel snapped. “I care only about its effects on my dealings.” A lie, of course. Faroor drew his interest for other reasons. “Union governance is unstable, thanks to your foolhardy species,” he said, earning a flicker of pride from Thaomé. “Failure on Faroor will cause the GUPR further damage, leading many memberworlds to question their place in such an ineffectual government.”

“How heartbreaking,” Thaomé replied, clearly not heartbroken. “Only one way to fix this dilemma.”

Fel’s smile showed perfectly white teeth. “Aggravate it. We both know the prize.” The points, profits, and privilege to take advantage of the ensuing chaos, went to whomever delivered Faroor’s utter destabilization. Fel and Thaomé were but two partaking in this contest. “Are your pawns in place?”

“Of course,” Thaomé replied cagily. “Is your
political pawn
in place?”

Fel eyed her in fleeting shock, but recovered abruptly to answer, “Yes.” How she had learned of his foothold on Faroor alarmed him greatly. Fel knew Thaomé couldn’t read his thoughts. Due to her albino nature, she only possessed empathic abilities and not full-blown telepathy or “Mindspeak,” as Korvenites called it. Even so, this room had psionic dampeners installed. Regardless, he clearly had a leak that must be contained swiftly.

Knowing she had rattled him, Thaomé smirked broadly. “May the best sentient win, Tomoriq.” She turned and departed through Fel’s virtual starry forest, with a tempting sway in her hips.

Fel, despite his aversion to Korvenites, watched her go. “Since you are so all-knowing, I wonder about Faroor’s skyquakes growing in frequency and potency. Any reason why?”

Thaomé paused and turned again toward Fel. “Not a clue. But if I ever become privy to that data, you’ll be the first to know.” As she spoke, her ashen irises shrank away and left only round pits of black—a Korvenite mannerism that Thaomé knew unsettled him. The Korvenite then disappeared into the starry void. A brief rectangular flash from outside signaled her exiting through a sliding door.

Fel shuddered. Anyone of lesser stature, he would have killed for lying so obviously. Instead, he allowed a few more moments for his unrest to seep away before ordering, “Uniopedia Off.” The Galactic Union and its twinkling vastness disappeared, leaving a large, barren chamber of amber walls.

“Uppity limeblood whore,” he spat, heading for the exit. “You, your kind, and everyone in this ‘Union’ will be
culled
…after I win our contest.” Especially if what he assumed about Faroor was true.

Striding out into the sleek, obsidian corridors of his megacorp, Tomoriq Fel shifted thoughts from his greater plans. He had a multiplanetary empire to run—and a traitorous associate to hunt down.

Light years away on the Union side of Ruby Space, Faroor’s dark side displayed a completely different scene. The dark purple skies blanketing Yanjon Vale were cloudless and splashed with distant stars. Qos, Faroor’s moon, hung low in a perfect sapphire crescent. Predators and prey alike went about their usual routines.

One such predator lay in the high stalks of reddish urbrui grass, waiting. Unlike most inhabitants in Yanjon, Mhir’ujiid was well aware of her role. The Farooqua female, nineteen cycles old, from the Quud tribe, slowly inched forward on her belly for almost twenty macroms of time. Years of hunting experience taught the girl to mute any noises of her approach. The long spear in Mhir’ujiid’s hand was her sole weapon. Its double-edged tips were made of sharpened fangs from a Taumattang she had killed herself. Mhir’ujiid then froze, the muscles taut on her rail-thin body. Her eyes resembled black, oily opals as they fixed on the prey.

A proneus stood three metrids away, left side facing Mhir’ujiid while grazing languidly on fresh urbrui stalks. It was about five feet long, four feet in height on its two lean-muscled front legs and a single thickset hind leg. The coppery horns on its head resembled two semicircular blades, small and indicated an adolescent male. By its beefy body, this one’s meat would easily feed a large clan for two nights or more. Its hide could create three coats for adults, six for small younglings. The possibilities with its bones were endless. Perfect, Mhir’ujiid thought, practically bursting with elation.

The proneus quickly looked up from its meal, surveying the surrounding areas with oversized, spooky neon-blue eyes. Its face was elongated, narrow and snout-like, akin to a greyhound’s with a stretched muzzle. The floppy, bat-like ears flicked about in typical proneus skittishness. It craned its long, muscular neck around to stare in Mhir’ujiid’s direction. The proneus then began sniffing about, probing for what its eyes couldn’t see.

Mhir’ujiid did not breathe. The long, green mohawk running down her back tingled with pent-up exhilaration. Had she been spotted? The urbrui grass stalks surrounding her body gave off an odor so pungent that it was the ideal mask. But like the enveloping night, Mhir’ujiid knew urbrui was not impenetrable. The proneus fixated on her exact location just then. Tensing up, it took a panicky step back.

Mhir’ujiid silently cursed herself. How had she forgotten the foremost hunting principle among the Quud? Prey belongs to no one until a Farooqua’s weapon claims it.

But the proneus then relaxed, a shudder rippling across its steel-grey coat before it craned its neck back down to munch once more on urbrui stalks. The young Farooqua would have sighed in relief, if she did not have to remain so still. No more wasting time, she thought. She tipped her somewhat bulbous head slightly to the right, then left, then right again.

On cue, another set of oily, opal-like eyes appeared in the urbrui stalks on the proneus’s other side. Her hunting partner, another young Quud named Ekus’oguul, saw her signal and prepared to strike. The proneus had settled back into grazing.

Ekus’oguul sprang out of hiding at the beast’s rear. With stems of red urbrui hanging from its jaws, the proneus started and bolted for the open plains—straight toward Mhir’ujiid.

Mhir’ujiid stayed crouched and calm, even as the proneus thundered forward. There was a wet scrunch of punctured flesh, completed by a trumpet-like screech.

Mhir’ujiid stood exposed in the night, her long spear lodged through the proneus’s side. All other night noises ceased, alerted by the creature’s wounded cry. With a strength belying her skinny build, Mhir’ujiid muscled the thrashing proneus down onto the grassy earth using her spear and held it down. Pools of dark blood began soaking the earth from under the beast’s fallen body.

As the trembling proneus lay pinned, Mhir’ujiid watched the light fade from its sad blue eyes. The Farooqua knew that slowly ebbing away was no way to die. She let go of her spear and kneeled by its side. Cradling the animal’s head in one arm, she wrapped her other arm firmly around its neck.

WHACRACK! One quick, brutal twist and the proneus stilled. Mhir’ujiid released its limp head and stood up. Dizzying joy washed over her. The thrill of the hunt—nothing could top it. Suddenly, a familiar clicking from behind caught her attention. Mhir’ujiid turned to find Ekus’oguul standing there looking far from celebratory. He was her same age, slightly taller, with a more sinewy build. His face, like her own, looked squashed, with no visible nose and wide, oval-shaped eyes. Their faces’ velveteen ivory coloring from below the brows to just above the upper lip held stark contrast to their body pelts’ goldenrod complexion.

Ekus’oguul gesticulated feverishly, hands and body quivering with anger. Like every Farooqua dialect, the Quud language was a unique kineticabulary of hand signing and body motions.

“[We almost lost that kill,]” he fumed. “[Your time with the infidels dulled your hunter’s instinct.]”

Mhir’ujiid rolled her eyes. She yanked her spear out of the proneus’s body with a grunt, spraying blood everywhere. The girl gestured back with her free hand, “[I made a mistake. But we got our kill, Ekus’oguul. And stop calling every non-Farooqua an infidel!]”

The male Quud made an angry tutting noise. “[I still see no reason why you attended their schools…]” Ekus’oguul spread his arms in sweeping gestures to articulate, “[when all a Farooqua needs is out here on the Estria.]”

Mhir’ujiid shook her head in a pitying fashion. Typical Farooqua close-mindedness. It was hard for her to believe she and Ekus’oguul were cousins, let alone best friends during childhood.

“[Let’s pack up and return home,]” Mhir’ujiid replied with hooked finger gestures. “[Then you can berate me with anti-Ttaunz tirades.]”

Ekus’oguul broodingly rubbed the small, rounded ridge under his eyes where a nose might be, but instead housed thousands of microscopic pores that enabled a Farooqua’s breathing. “[Fine, then. We cut off the limbs and transport our kill,]” he conceded.

Under the starry night, they drew out saw-toothed stone knives and began cutting off the dead proneus’s limbs and head for easier transport. Once finished, Mhir’ujiid’s sharp whistle echoed across the vale. A few lengthy macroms later, a rustle of urbrui stalks grew closer and more pronounced. Following that were three approaching shadows, two of them higher up than the middle one. Under the pale moon appeared Gheiig’onil, an elderly Quud with a thin, ropy build and a noticeable slouch. Once an amazing hunter, Gheiig’onil now trained Quud youths. He led two tall horse-like creatures with him: iokki, the main long-distance transport for Quud Farooqua. Both iokki had hides covered in dull, black scales instead of hair, and their muzzles resembled stunted elephant trunks. One iokkas raised its triangular head to let out a thumping drum noise.

“[Blessed be to the Zenith Point and its six elements of totality,]” the elder Farooqua said, his wrinkled arms sweeping in circles toward the crescent of Qos. “[For it has guided your fine kill. Are we ready to return?]” A wide, taumattang-hide pouch was strung up between the two iokki, in which they placed the cut-up proneus portions. Taumattang hide could keep a Farooqua warm throughout cold seasons and was thick enough to contain blood from seeping through.

Gheiig’onil and Mhir’ujiid hopped on one iokkas with her steering. Ekus’oguul rode the other.

Aside from occasional gusts of wind and a soothing symphony, courtesy of the nighttime fauna, the ride was calm. For this, Mhir’ujiid was grateful. She gazed up at the glittering void, where curls of smoky clouds had begun to swirl and coalesce. Imagining how many planets were up there always amazed her. Right now, any of them suited her better than Faroor.

Mhir’ujiid’s mind drifted back to her childhood with the Yanjon Quud, head tribe of the Quud Tribal Nation. Back then, life was simple within the confines of Farooqua tutelage. The stars held the same awe then as now, but Mhir’ujiid had never wondered about life in their midst. Her only focus in the sky was the Zenith Point and its six elements of totality: Estria (earth), Atma (the skies and the void beyond), Pyra (fire and light), Propa (wood and growth), Ebria (water and fluidity) and Talu (metal). She knew the enmity between Farooqua and Ttaunz existed long before her birth. Farooqua only ventured into city-states to barter goods, and Ttaunz only travelled through Farooqua lands to gather certain harvests. Besides that, both races stayed within their respective borders, in accordance to a century-old treaty.

The acrimony between Ttaunz and Farooqua had lasted over two centuries, predating Mhir’ujiid’s nineteen cycles. Her ancestors had welcomed the Ttaunz refugees from a destroyed empire, shepherded to Faroor by a league of many races from far within the Atma—the Galactic Union of Planetary Republics. The biggest grievance held by all Farooqua was the Ttaunz’s lacking gratitude for the Farooqua helping them acclimate to their new home. In fact, the Ttaunz viewed her race as they did mud. So Mhir’ujiid despised them right back.

Then the cold civil war started. The Ttaunz had begun outgrowing the confines of their opulent city-states, and little by little pushed the boundaries set by the joint treaty to build on Farooqua land. Soon stretches of verdant lands gradually became towering Ttaunz cityscapes as borders were ignored. To combat these violations, dozens of Farooqua resorted at first to sabotage, bringing structures down by fist and flame. But then the Ttaunz began implementing security systems around construction projects, including DNA-specific forcefields and armed mechanoid sentinels to name a few. This only encouraged the Farooqua to take their protests to more extreme measures.

Several Farooqua strapped with impact bombs snuck into Ttaunz city-states. Their crude explosive devices contained all the force, yet none of the heat of an infidel bomb as they blew themselves up along with innumerable non-Farooqua bystanders. The Narii and Udaa, two tribes bordering Ttaunz city-states, usually engaged in these tactics. As impractical as it sounded, the more radical Farooqua would rather die protecting their homes than lose them to the Ttaunz. Mhir’ujiid quivered at the thought. Blowing oneself up, no matter the cause or creed, was something she would never comprehend. In retaliation, the Ttaunz mowed down other Farooqua settlements with advanced weapons of war, but always in a different tribal territory. Back and forth these war games went, affecting the whole planet.