“Habraum.” The Cerc turned, but the voice wasn’t the Cresonish commander’s. Suddenly, Marguliese stood at his side. Her eyes focused intently on the starliner. “Khrome is succeeding.”
“What—” Habraum looked again as the starliner still plunged, trailing black rivers of smoke. Except now, the vessel was slowly swinging away from the skyscraper and heading east.
“Holy
tattshi
, he’s actually doing it!” Khal exclaimed.
“Indeed,” Commander Jheygo echoed. “Your Star Brigade’s reputation is well founded.”
On the surface, the Cerc took the compliment with a casual nod. On the inside, Habraum’s bones ached with pride. “Thank the Earth Mother,” he exhaled.
Dropping rapidly but steadily, still the starliner grew larger to the unaided eye. So close, for an instant its scorched belly blotted out Faroor’s sun. Then, in a vicious gust, the ship blew past and slammed onto the grass-covered Supreme Commons, rattling Habraum and everyone else down to their teeth.
Now the ship was skidding forward too fast, the roar of its progress thundering across the cityscape. A lookout tower at one edge of the park caught a wild swipe of the starliner’s tail careening left and right, subsequently crumbling in an avalanche of stony chunks. And the ship continued plowing through grassy parklands in showers of clumpy dirt, now in danger of colliding with apartment complexes at the Supreme Commons’s far north edge.
Then, at the last instant, the enormous vessel’s nose slowed to a stop mere metrids in front of an elegant high-rise.
All Thasque seemed to sigh, the vessel’s thunderous journey echoing into nothing.
Briefly, and maybe Habraum was imagining it, the passenger vessel seemed to hover just off the ground. Then it dropped, shaking the earth. The Cerc smiled. “Khrome,” he muttered happily at one of the best landings he had ever seen. His mind already jumping to further containment, Habraum wheeled on Jheygo. “We need a hover vehicle as well as another contingent of HazMat and MediCorps. That ship lost two S-Drive engines—”
Commander Jheygo was already nodding. “Understood.”
“Crescendo,” Habraum called to Liliana Cortes. “You’re still needed to deal with the wounded around this part.” Cortes clearly wasn’t happy at being kept from her friend, but she swallowed her distaste and nodded succinctly.
The Cerc turned to his recon officer. “Jakadda, help in the search for more survivors around here.” The tall Kintarian nodded and loped off on all fours with arresting speed.
Within macroms, some PLADECO troops drove sleek, topless military hovercrafts into the commercial district. Some truck-like HazMat rescue vehicles in their midst lifted off toward the same location.
Habraum approached the floating hover vehicle with Marguliese, Tyris, and Khal in tow. As they boarded, he spied the worry in the Tanoeen’s eyes, clearly concerned for his best friend, Khrome.
“Don’t fret, lad.” The Cerc patted his second-in-command’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”
Tyris gave a thumbs up as the hover vehicle zipped away.
The Supreme Commons, once a glamorous playground for the Ttaunz, now showcased a wide and ugly black scar of ruined earth through its entire 6.5-mile length. The starliner’s hull sprinkled off in charred flakes. Blackened puncture marks ran its entire span. From the rear, gaping holes from where two main S-Drives once resided choked out spirals of thick black smoke into the sky. However, the downed starship was mostly in one piece. Three hunter-green Hazmat skybuses circled and doused it with steady white streams of pyro-suppressant foam, fortunately containing the worst of the starliner’s smoldering sections. No sign of Khrome, however.
As their military vehicles approached the park, Habraum grimaced at the colossal starliner’s path of destruction through the recreational areas. Upon closer approach, Habraum and CT-1 saw that the starliner’s exit ramps were streaming out passengers onto the ruined Commons—always a good sign. Once the travelers reached the ground, HazMat and MediCorps mechs directed them away from the starliner to the park’s end. This open area was filling up at alarming speeds. Many passengers looked dazed, some worse for wear. A medical triage station had been set up to assess injuries. Still no sign of Khrome, which worried Habraum.
“There!” Tyris exclaimed in his high, cold voice. He pointed his quarterstaff to Habraum’s right. Khrome was hovering high above the masses like some imperious god. Trails of greyish smoke rose slowly from the starliner’s stern, curling up and around his chiseled form before dispersing into the hazy red skies. The scorch marks on his armored skin seemed only superficial.
From the angle the land skimmer approached, the Thulican was silhouetted against Herope’s pinkish glare and Thasque’s skyline of smoldering buildings. The Thulican’s massive arms hung at his sides, his head lowered as if from a secret shame.
Immediately, the Tanoeen popped out of the vehicle and hurried through the crowds. Tyris barely noticed the rampant shock he was causing some of the bewildered masses. Khrome looked up and a weary smile spread across his blue, noseless face. “So that’s what hard work feels like!” He winked and floated closer to the ground.
Tyris twirled his quarterstaff, giving the starliner a once-over. “Doesn’t look THAT heavy.”
“I was pacing myself!” Khrome smiled more broadly. If the Thulican could still joke, then that was all the confirmation Tyris needed about his best friend’s well-being.
“Damn, Khrome,” Khal exclaimed quietly.
“I know!” Khrome shrugged in false modesty. “Even I shock myself sometimes!”
“Impressive.” Marguliese nodded in agreement, studying the vessel and Khrome in a brisk sweep.
Habraum strode to the other side of the starliner away from CT-1, signaling for his tech to follow. Khrome obediently floated down to meet him. The Thulican continued hovering so he was eye to eye with the taller Cerc. Habraum stifled a cringe at the scorch marks covering Khrome’s metal flesh.
“I should have never put you up there,” he began, hands on hips. “And for that I apologize.”
“The passengers are safe.” Khrome waved off the concern. “It all worked out.”
“Indeed.” Habraum gave a curt nod. “You ollrigh’?”
Khrome stared back, taking a moment too long to reply. In that moment, the Thulican’s boastful façade cracked. Habraum saw the exhaustion, the fear of almost failing, the recognition of mortality in Khrome’s round yellow eyes.
He knew the sensation intimately, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
The moment passed, and Khrome’s façade was back up before the silence between them lingered too long. “Khrome-Daddy’s golden!” He landed and puffed out his broad chest smugly.
With all Khrome had just been through, Habraum played along. “I think you’re more silver.” He chuckled and held out a gloved hand. “Brilliant job.”
Khrome boisterously shook it.
A rumble shook the air around them. Habraum and Khrome turned to see a massive MediCorps skycarrier touching down. The medivac vessel, elongated and round, was coated in matte gunmetal and white hues. The Cerc sighed, knowing this ship would transport the passengers to Thasque’s many MedCenters.
“HazMat and MediCorps got this covered. Let’s head out, lad.” In the fading daylight, Habraum proudly placed a hand on Khrome’s broad shoulder as they walked toward the rest of CT-1.
Tharydane waited, legs crossed and eyes closed, dressed in a simple black tank top and grey sweatpants. In her mind’s eye, she felt tendrils of a foreign telepathic energy probing gently at her thoughts. The Korvenite focused a moment, and empathically shut the intrusion out. The tendrils slinked away into the dark. Tharyn smiled.
I’m getting good at shielding my thoughts.
A moment passed before the tendrils lashed out with force, trying to dig deeper.
Tharyn was ready. Those tendrils slid off her shields like water off a duck’s back.
The Korvenite felt her confidence soar. “Bring it!” she dared, ready for anything. The unseen opponent lashed out again. This time the tendrils stabbed like knives through her defenses without effort, plunging through her mind unimpeded. Tharyn gasped and fell backwards.
Just as quickly the attacker withdrew, leaving the teenager both sprawled and humbled.
“Guess I got owned.” Tharyn’s eyes fluttered open, and she gazed up at her “attacker.”
“There’s no need to feel defeated,” Lethe spoke in his genteel, tripled voice. He stood over his ward, offering a long-fingered hand. “My apologies if you were injured.”
“I’m fine, just surprised.” Tharyn took his hand and he pulled her upright. Standing in Lethe’s quarters for her daily telepathy lessons, she took in her surroundings with a glance. One glance was all anybody needed to view the whole quarters, one reason why she preferred living with Sam.
The Kudoban’s quarters were sparsely decorated in accordance with the minimalist way of life his race practiced. Other than a pair of floating, yellowish glow orbs, the common room with its light gunmetal walls had only the wide meditation pad she had tumbled upon. A medium-sized viewscreen console hung on one wall, five wide cylindrical stands for guests to sit on, a bookstand packed with holonovels about harmony and Kudoban history and whatever, plus a ceiling-wide holoimage of Union Space. Besides those, Lethe’s quarters had little else to offer. Tharyn’s room in her Kudoban guardian’s quarters was just as bareboned.
The Korvenite winced and put those thoughts aside, returning all focus to her training. “Guess I’m no Mindspeak guru yet?” she offered ruefully.
Lethe arched a near-nonexistent eyebrow. “Probably not. However, this was only your third time attempting psychic shielding. Your growth in psychic aptitude continues to amaze me, Tharyn.”
The Korvenite jolted with elation at the compliment. “Thanks, Lethe,” she shrugged.
“But you are still raw, like a blunt hammer.” Lethe rested a weightless hand on her shoulder.
Her skills had vastly improved thanks to Lethe. But today reminded Tharyn of how far she had to go.
While living on Hollus, Tharyn had mostly followed Lethe’s rule not to read others’ thoughts without permission. But when not concentrating, the delicious chatter of surface thoughts she kept hearing was a constantly babbling brook just begging for her to dive in. Those temptations had ruled her to the point of secretly experimenting with mind control on one Brigadier during their sleep several times, until Lethe found out. He had blocked off her telepathy a full week for that.
“You brought up your defenses in one part of your mind and left other areas unguarded,” Lethe continued with a reassuring squeeze. “But you will improve as you continue training.”
Tharyn smiled feebly, her mind now elsewhere.
And Lethe easily noticed. “Is something wrong, youngling?”
Tharydane screwed up her mouth, unsure if whether to mention this at all. But Lethe’s question had dislodged an issue troubling her for a while. The Korvenite ran a timid hand through her tumble of long, lazy violet curls. “When’s Sam’s birthday?” she asked.
Lethe’s features grew somber, despite Kudobans not having very animated expressions. “A few months from now, in the middle of the antevera season,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
Tharyn shifted uneasily under Lethe’s gaze. “Just…I started wondering after my birthday a few months ago what I’d get Sam for hers. Then I realized I don’t know much about her outside Star Brigade.”
Lethe gave Tharyn a sharp look. “Have you asked?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah…
yes
. Lots of times. But she always finds a clever way to change the subject.”
“She does that,” Lethe admitted with a tired sigh. “You know the important things, yes?”
Tharyn shrugged, not feeling assuaged at all. “Maybe? Like, I get there is stuff that she doesn’t want to talk about. But I know more about Jeremy and Habraum’s family than I do hers!” Realizing how negative she sounded, the Korvenite held up her hands pacifyingly. “I’m not ungrateful. Sam’s great. And I love living on Hollus. But…” Tharydane struggled to find the right words, and blurted out the first ones on her mind, “…something about my life with her just feels
wrong
.”
She felt a rush of shame at the awful import of her words. “Korvan’s bones! I didn’t mean—”
The Kudoban held up a long, spindly-fingered hand to silence her. “Yes you did,” Lethe replied softly, “but never hesitate to speak openly with me.” He placed his hands together, as if to pray like an earthborn human. “Samantha has always built a barrier between herself and the rest of the universe.”
Tharyn blew out a sigh. “Not the
entire
universe.”
“Habraum notwithstanding,” Lethe said without missing a beat, making the Korvenite giggle. “I know Samantha holds you very close to her heart, and will open up when ready.”
“Like she must have done with Habraum, right?” Tharyn asked, feeling more hopeful.
Lethe nodded his egg-shaped head. “Be patient, like when honing your telepathy.”
The Korvenite laughed. “Nice comparison, teach!”
Lethe smiled appreciatively. “I can mention your concerns to her—”
She waved away the offer. “It’s okay. Just needed to unload. I can’t really talk to Jeremy about this.”
That gave Lethe pause. He knew Tharydane had little contact with anyone her same age. After her adoption, Sam had insisted she be schooled on Hollus Maddrone. But Tharydane understood why. Her species was still intensely hated throughout Union Space.
Like on Bimnorii
. Her mind wandered back to the arid world light years away, and what she did…
Tharydane cringed, pushing those dark memories away
. No, don’t go back there.
She breathed in deeply and held Lethe’s gaze. “Thanks for listening.”
“Of course.” Lethe nodded again. “That should be all for your training today.”
“I’ll see you after the rest of my classes!” Tharyn beamed, heading for the exit. Unlike the telepathy lessons, her other daily classes were taught via a holo AI instructor Sam had set up in their quarters. Tharyn loved Astronomy in particular, but didn’t care for how Galactic Union History painted the Korvenites for daring to impede on Union expansion.