Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) Page 11

  For a heartbeat, Habraum feared the sight of Honaa Ishliba materializing before him, and his mouth grew dry with apprehension. The Cerc steeled himself inside, both preparing and dreading to face the mentor he had avoided for the past year. The holoimage came through, and Habraum blew out an audible sigh of relief. The caller was not Honaa, just someone else whose face warmed his heart.

  Jeremy, though, didn’t share his father’s relief and squealed in terror. The 3-D replication of a scrawny, copper-skinned body swathed in flowing robes stood before him, towering over Habraum by a half-metrid. What freaked Jeremy out was the being’s neck, which was a full metrid long with an egg-shaped head on top. The throat of the slim neck looked like a set of abdominal muscles with two open slits, those two slits were actually two extra mouths. Round milky eyes blinked and the being’s flattened nose located on its forehead twitched with mild shock when he opened his mouths to speak.

  “Habraum Nwosu,” three voices spoke the name at once, all with different tenors but at the same time and in the same peaceful cadence. “What a pleasant surprise.” Jeremy again squealed.

  “Hello Lethe,” Habraum said slowly. It had been over a year since he’d spoken to Lethe, a member of the empathic Kudoban race and Director of Hollus Maddrone starbase. Despite the Kudoban’s pacifist kinfolk disagreeing with his involvement in a military function that used violence to enforce the GUPR’s laws, Lethe never swayed from managing Hollus or counseling any Brigadier who asked.

  The Kudoban smiled genuinely at Habraum with his facial and neck maws. “We received the Regulat reports of the zoo incident. Samantha hasn’t contacted us directly—.”

  “Don’t fret yourself, Lethe,” Habraum answered reassuringly. “Sam got hurt, but she’s okay now.”

  Palpable relief washed over Lethe’s innocent, oval-shaped face, right as a fiery roar erupted from Sam’s recovery room. The brilliant flare-up was followed promptly by a grating metallic shriek that made everyone within the vicinity jump. Habraum turned to see the M-230 who had been treating Sam burst from the room. Both the mechanoid’s arms were now molten and trickling down its sides as it ran off—still shrieking, only just missing a well-dressed human coming from the opposite direction.

  Habraum, not even a little staggered, rolled his eyes and turned back to Lethe. The Kudoban clearly heard the commotion and studied the Cerc knowingly. “Let me guess?”

  “Samantha and her ever-enduring patience,” Habraum confirmed, shaking of his head exasperatedly. “I’ll have to make this quick before she roasts any other medimechs.” The Cerc gave Lethe an abbreviated report of what happened. It felt almost too comfortable, too easy to fall back into. Of course it did you squit! Habraum chided himself. A few times, Lethe assisted on missions remotely from Hollus’s Ops Center. Habraum smiled fondly at those memories.

  When the Cerc finished his brief, Lethe nodded with satisfaction. “Even after a year’s leave, you still prove your selfless merit. More might have died if not for you.”

  Too many died because of me, he wanted to say. Instead Habraum shrugged, both arms folded behind his back. “It was the right thing to do.” This whole Star Brigade talk made him uncomfortable. A glance over his shoulder revealed Jeremy’s increasing disquiet in relation to Lethe. “Look Lethe, not to be short but I got to scuttle and all. Jeremy’s a little tussled by all this.”

  Lethe seemed perceptive of this. He stared back at Habraum with large, innocent eyes. “Understood. Honaa and I will speak with Sam when she returns to base.” The Kudoban paused for a bit, wringing his long spindly fingers together. “It was good…seeing you again, Habraum.”

  “Same on this side,” Habraum agreed honestly.

  The Kudoban’s image quickly faded as the transmission ended, but he added one last aside. “You’ll always have a place on Star Brigade when you’re ready to come back.” A split-nanoclic later, he was gone. Habraum stared at where Lethe’s image once stood, shaking his head again and again.

  That won’t happen, probably ever, he thought, grinding his jaw crossly. “Come on, Jeremy.” He moved toward Jeremy and took him by the hand. “You okay?”

  Jeremy still stared at where Lethe had been, even though the transmission was over. “That was a Kudoban!”

  “I know, Jer, I know.” Habraum led the child toward Sam’s room.

  “They scare me!”

  “Trust me, sprout,” Habraum tussled his son’s hair. “Kudobans wouldn’t harm a flickerfly.” The Cerc almost walked right into the recovery room, but froze and pulled Jeremy back by his collar.

  “Daddy what—?”

  Habraum put a silencing finger to his lips. Another living being was in the room speaking with Sam.

  “How did you know I was here?” asked Sam. From her tone, she clearly had no liking for this being.

  “I work for the Ministry of Defense, Samantha. I have my ways,” replied a male, Earthborn human by his cadence, with a smarmy self-importance that Habraum found instantly off-putting. “Can we just move past our first encounter and start fresh? No hard feelings?”

  The Cerc glowered and rolled his eyes. Another of Sam’s rumpy-pumpy randoms. Why was he at St. James? Thankfully, Jeremy was too young to understand what this crude fella had said.

  Sam didn’t disappoint in her retort. “Trust me, there was nothing hard about our first encounter.”

  The male sounded like he was gritting his teeth as he attempted pleasantries. “All kidding aside, Sam. When are you going to get that I’m trying to help Star Brigade? You can put the guns away and stop posturing about as if you’ve got a pair.”

  “I will if you will,” said Sam.

  “Enough of this tattshǐ,” the human bit out the earthborn expletive furiously. “Where is Nwosu?” he demanded, not even attempting mock civility anymore.

  “No clue,” was Sam’s gleefully rude reply. “But if I see him, I’ll be sure to forget you were here.”

  “Tell me now or—.”

  “Looking for me?” Habraum strode into the room with Jeremy. Sam looked up sharply. The man she was bickering with turned around. Habraum recognized him—the dapper human almost bowled over by the m-230. He wasn’t much taller than Sam, with a head seemingly better suited for a taller more adult-looking body. If not for the pompous look etched into his face, he might’ve been handsome. His dark curly hair fit well with the man’s grey eyes, as did his expensive-looking nanoweave navy blue suit. In Habraum’s eyes, he looked like a typical Union lobbyist or politician.

  “Captain Nwosu,” he smiled cordially, crossing the room in a couple of strides to offer Habraum his hand. “Atom Greystone—pronounced A-TUM—liaison between the Ministry of Defense and Star Brigade. Pleasure to finally meet the man behind the legend.”

  Habraum glanced down at Greystone’s outstretched hand. Pronounced A-TUM? Rogguts.

  Clearly ‘Atom’ was a product of the Terranborn and earthborn human craze to appear more in tune with their expanding cosmos during 2200s and 2300s. Nowadays it was annoyingly common to meet humans from Terra Sollus, Mars and their respective colonies named Supernova or Draco or Saturn or Starr with two ‘Rs’ or Atom. Habraum and most crimsonborn humans could never say names like that without laughing on the inside, and occasionally a little on the outside. But this ‘Atom’ Greystone had aggravated him far too much in such a short a time to solicit any laughter.

  “You owe Sam an apology,” Habraum walked past Greystone and toward his friend. “Insulting her isn’t the sharpest way to earn my goodwill.”

  Anger flickered across Greystone’s face, only for an instant. But he quickly laughed it off and withdrew his empty hand. “I meant no harm by what I said. Sam and I always verbally joust like that—.”

  “I’ll repeat myself in plain Standard,” Habraum ordered, conveying dismissive bile without raising his voice. “Apologize to her or get out of my sight.”

  Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. “Braum, save the chivalry. This guy’s not worth it.”


  “But you are,” Habraum stated adamantly, his hazel-gold eyes fixed on Greystone. The weight of the Cerc’s unflinching glare proved too much for the Ministry of Defense liaison before he finally crumpled under it, looking as if his bowels had liquefied.

  “Sorry, Sam,” Greystone muttered through gritted teeth, like a child forced to swallow cough syrup.

  Sam’s scowl spoke volumes. “Die in a fucking black hole.” She eyed Habraum with a glowing look.

  Now that exchange almost made Habraum laugh. “You’re nattering on about being some liaison between the bureaucrats and the Brigade. How come I never met you or heard of your position?”

  Greystone cleared his throat. “My position was created a few months after your untimely leave-taking.” He injected a dash of well-timed sorrow into the last few words. Sam looked less than moved. Habraum found himself liking this coarse little toad less and less by the moment.

  The Cerc arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t aware Star Brigade needed a Defense Ministry babysitter.”

  “That’s why I’m here today, Nwosu. Star Brigade needs someone of your caliber right now. The current leadership is alarmingly…” he paused to sneer at Sam, “mediocre. You’d be reinstated to your prior positions of captain and field commander, along with being the new Brigade Executive Officer.”

  Sam gaped, clearly enraged. “You’re not Star Brigade. You can’t make that decision!” she began.

  “I can and I will. Being a Defense Ministry liaison affords me such rights.” Greystone barely even glanced at Sam. He smirked victoriously, at Habraum as if he’d already sealed the deal. “Especially given the lack of senior officers. C’mon, Habraum. What will it take to bring you back to Star Brigade?”

  “Slow down there,” said Habraum, hand up as if stopping traffic. He honestly couldn’t stand listening to Greystone anymore. “I’ve no interest in returning. And I’m sure Star Brigade’s headship is quite adequate.”

  “If it’s an issue of currency amount—?”

  “Not interested.” Habraum took Jeremy’s hand. “Sam, let’s deal with your release and leave.”

  “Wow. Then I guess you didn’t fare any better than I did,” he said to Sam.

  The woman paled. “Shut your mouth, Greystone.”

  Habraum stopped at the exit and took a long look at Sam. “What’s he gibbering about?”

  Greystone’s eyes darted between the two of them with a fiendish amusement. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? And here I thought Commander D’Urso would do anything to save the Star Brigade.

  “Why else would she meet with you? You’re the only one that can save it, Habraum. Did she tell you that?” Greystone walked closer, his smirk growing into an obnoxious smile. “I can make sure the Brigade never again gets in the position of mismanagement that D’Urso and Captain Ishliba put it in again.”

  “Shut it!” Habraum irately waved him off. He didn’t like these snippets of information he was hearing. His gaze stayed on Sam as he waited for a denial. She said nothing, glaring at Greystone as if ready to rip his throat out—which only gave the Ministry liaison’s words actual merit. “Outside Sam,” Habraum demanded, not attempting to hide his anger now. Sam sullenly crossed her arms and stalked out of the room. “Come on, Jer.” Jeremy silently followed his father, having stayed quiet this whole time. Habraum wanted to hear from his friend, not half-truths from some slippery bureaucrat.

  “I’ll be here until you accept, Captain,” Greystone called after him.

  Sam was waiting for the Cerc near the TriTran booth. She had her back facing him, revealing another tattoo on her left shoulder, a small character derived from Old Earth’s Chinese subspecies. Touching that shoulder, Habraum gently but firmly turned her around, “What the hazik is he going on about?”

  This time she met his glare directly. But to Habraum’s surprise, she looked so tired and…beaten. “Yes Habraum, the Brigade is in trouble—BIG trouble. Our charter has been suspended for the past four months. The Armada might even terminate Star Brigade.”

  Habraum’s eyes widened. The news struck home with astonishing impact. “How did this happen?”

  “The Beridaas massacre happened. Then there was a snowball effect,” Sam shrugged in a dead tone, as if this had not happened to her. “The UComm lost a bit of faith in the Star Brigade after that. It started with fewer missions, and then the UComm poaching our best Brigadiers, and the Brigade senior operatives did nothing to fight back while heading for greener pastures!”

  Sam’s voice grew thick with contempt. “With next to no veterans, a boatload of rookies and decreasing mission output, UComm suspended our charter. After that, all the remaining senior operatives bolted faster than an hyperspace jump. That left Honaa, Lethe and I to manage the Star Brigade. I’m running Brigade Intelligence now, but I’m just a Commander, Lethe’s not officially part of the Brigade. And, as much as it kills me to admit this, Honaa’s best days as a field commander are behind him.

  “But it gets better,” she went on with bitter amusement before Habraum could frame a reply. “The Chouncilor’s new Defense Initiative calls for UComm budget cuts. So the Ministry of Defense brings in Greystone to assess if certain specialized branches of the UComm, like the Star Brigade, should be axed.”

  Veterans leaving, Honaa losing his edge, the Brigade on the brink of closure –it all sounded so absurd the Cerc almost thought Sam was greybricking him. “How does me returning wedge into all this?” Habraum asked, growing more alarmed as the news sank in. He kept a firm hold on Jeremy so the boy didn’t wander off, at the same time wishing this conversation was taking place out of his son’s earshot.

  Sam sighed, her expression reluctant as she continued. “UComm will reactivate the Star Brigade, but only if you lead the whole damn thing and whip it back into fighting shape.”

  Habraum massaged his temples, trying to process what he just heard. For months, Sam had made little mention of any Star Brigade issues. The Cerc hated when Sam expertly hid her problems behind a happy mask freezing him out. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” he demanded with barely governed fury.

  “Because!” Sam shot back in equal anger. “You wanted nothing to do with the Star Brigade! Anytime I mentioned it you would either brush me off or change the subject.” Suddenly, Sam frowned as something over Habraum’s shoulder caught her eye. “Don’t you all have lives to save?”

  A confused Habraum turned to see Medcenter workers beginning to stare, but the bite behind Sam’s words made them suddenly remember urgent priorities elsewhere. She turned again to Habraum. “So as much as I wanted to save my job, I have too much respect for you to use our friendship that way. I didn’t want to place that weight on your shoulders, Habraum, not after what you’ve been through this last year.”

  The anger bled away from Habraum as he stared down at his long-time friend. Her unflinching brown eyes met his with equal intensity. This was almost too much to take in. As much as he needed distance from Star Brigade, as much as he wanted to focus on being a full-time father, the Cerc still believed in the Brigade’s value had in making the Galactic Union safer hadn’t changed. I can’t just leave her… The memory of his butchered teammates robbed Habraum of breath. There was only one option.

  “Daddy?” Jeremy’s small voice startled both him and Sam. The boy’s large hazel-grey eyes flicked between them both, taking in the whole scene. “Why are you and Aunt Sammie yelling at each other?”

  “Jeremy, we’re not—.” Habraum caught the lie that almost left his mouth. They were creating quite the scene in the Medcenter. “We’re discussing whether I’m going back to my old job or not.”

  “Are you going back?” Jeremy brightened up. He always thought Habraum’s job was ‘ultraluminal’.

  Habraum caressed his son’s face and eyed him sadly for a long moment.

  Forgive me Jenn. I’m choosing her over you…again. He then turned to Sam. “Yes, I am.”

  Sam stared at the Cerc as if a third eye sprouted on his forehead. “Saywh
atnow?!” she blurted out.

  “You heard me.” The Cerc put his hands on the shoulders of his very confused friend.

  “But you said—?”

  “I know, I know.” Habraum stroked his hands down Sam’s arms. He remembered the promises he had intended to keep with all-too painful bitterness; being a better and more present father to Jeremy, staying away from Star Brigade. Yet, after today’s incident, he remembered the simple yet dizzying high of field combat, the purpose Star Brigade had always given him—defending Union citizens from extraordinary threats. For the brief time fighting off those Children of Earth assailants, Habraum’s life felt structured again. Then there was Sam, the defeated look on her face revealing how bad things really were.

  Star Brigade is her family, closer than blood. Habraum had no stomach to see what losing that would do to her. He blew out a soft sigh, set his jaw and decided to keep his words simple. “Star Brigade needs me. Walking away is one thing. But letting it die? Never.” He took Sam’s face in his hands and added, “More importantly, you need me.”

  Sam gazed up at him with a mix of disbelief, joy and confusion. “But, but….”

  “You trying to dissuade me now?” Habraum frowned.

  “No!” Sam said quickly. The big, toothy smile that spread across her face was like a sun breaking through an overcast sky, warming Habraum all over. She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

  Greystone, however, had a far less effusive reaction. “Absolutely not!” he shook his head furiously.

  Habraum folded his arms over his burly chest. “Those are my terms. You either take them or become a nonfactor in Star Brigade.” He, Sam and Jeremy were back in the recovery room with Greystone, laying out the terms for his return; Habraum installed as Brigade Executive Officer in charge, not just a combat team field commander, and Greystone in a figurehead advisory role— with no say in Brigade decisions.

  Greystone’s face turned the color of sour milk. “I was guaranteed an active role in the Brigade!”