Star Brigade: Resurgent (Star Brigade Book 1) Page 29

  The response was instant and united among the Unilink. [Korvan’s Anointed will lead us home!]

  Maelstrom’s heart soared. Under his leadership these Korvenites’ abilities grew more potent by the day. In the coming weeks, his species would face their greatest challenge. They all needed to be at their best, so he silently beckoned them to stretch their senses further, reaching as far as feasible.

  In a deeper part of his mind, which he guarded from those below him, Maelstrom reached out to legions not physically among this gathering. On the volcanic world of Hommodus, a cadre of elite Retributionaries neared a slave pen of Korvenites, unknown to even that world’s government. Their united focus was as tangible as their impending success.

  And in an asteroid field near his beloved Sollus, where more of his Retributionaries were procuring sollunium, a Union Command vessel was under assault. Missile after missile pummeled the vessel into submission, every flare-up lit up Maelstrom’s mental picture of what his Retributionaries saw. Even though an odd obstruction kept him from sensing the fear of the ship’s occupants, the Korvenite leader did sense his brethren’s fiendish delight as they continued their onslaught. Victory was near, the UComm ship helplessly spinning toward a large asteroid. Normally the llyriac frowned on arrogance. But he couldn’t do that when observing a UComm ship fall before the Korvenite Independence Front’s wrath.

  Further still, on the edges of GUPR space, he caught the far-off impression of a covert operative. No flicker of doubt resided in that cold intellect, only reassurance that their plan was on schedule.

  Maelstrom allowed himself a sneer. Thinking no more about these outlying matters, he turned his attention back to the congregation below. [Korvan’s mission will be realized. Our enemies will fall and Sollus will be ours once again. There can be no other outcome.]

  22.

  On the far side of the bridge, Habraum fought to extricate himself from V’Korram. Then he spied the ship tumbling into the face of an asteroid—and Ensign Liddell slumped over his helm controls.

  “What the—?”Habraum was up in a heartbeat, tottering across the distance to helm control as the ship continued spiraling. He persisted forward, and his thoughts fell on Jennica, almost tripping him up. Had his wife known fear in her final moments, or was she killed instantly not knowing what happened? The question had popped into Habraum’s head at the oddest times since her death. The Cerc dragged his focus back to CT-1, now dangerously close to meeting a similar fate.

  Habraum reached the helm and saw Honaa already at Phaeton’s controls. “Sssit tight Captain, I have thisss.” His talons clacked adeptly at the flight controls.

  At the last instant, the Phaeton pulled up sharply from its plummet—away from the asteroid. As it did, the potent shockwave from a distant explosion joggled the ship slightly.

  Out of nowhere three more z-bombs and a salvo of scorching plasma bursts screeched at them. Habraum again felt the urge to take the seat next to the Rothorid, to bend the situation to his will. But Honaa gracefully rolled to port, pulled downward with a sudden burst of speed and completed the maneuver with a successful loop around the barrage.

  Another double flurry of plasma bursts. Honaa rolled to starboard this time, hit the throttle and punched straight through a narrow space between the bright-red walls of exploding energy.

  Habraum had always known that Honaa was a good pilot. His piloting style was rushed, but not jumpy, always thinking three moves ahead like a typical Rothorid. Habraum released a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding, assured his team was safe. For now.

  “I’d do thisss better without you hovering,” Honaa rasped stiffly, eyes locked on the viewscreen.

  “Oh. Pardons.” Habraum resigned back to his command seat. “Status!”

  “Ships systems were temporarily disrupted by the z-bomb impacts, but all essential systems are back up,” Sam reported, trying to see straight. The Cerc didn’t miss the hard spill she took during the z-bomb strike. “Hull integrity is intact. Most of what we felt was only crash, bang and boom impact.”

  “But without our shields, we’d have been blown to smithereens?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” said Sam dryly.

  “Told ya humans use that word,” Khrome muttered, offering his hand to a shaken-up Tyris.

  “Speaking of shields…” Habraum turned toward the tech station.

  “At twenty percent and rising.” Khrome looked unharmed by the crash, thanks to near-impenetrable metal skin. His right hand moved like a blur over his console, while with his left he hoisted up Tyris back to his seat. “No direct damage to the shield generator, auto-repair kicking in at full force. Should be at full power in ten macroms.”

  The Phaeton snapped off a quick 360-degree roll as two more z-bombs torpedoed in from behind, cutting the throttle and then arching upward, barely avoiding another blistering plasma wave. This drew a faint whimper from Liliana Cortes.

  “Arcturus, prime weapons. But I need something to fire at first,” Habraum straightened out his uniform with as much poise as he could muster. “Jakadda, any luck finding a fuel discharge?”

  “Not yet sir, but I am trying variant frequency scans to ferret them out.” V’Korram’s eyes flashed with a predatory thrill as he clacked his fingers across his ops station—one of the few times Habraum had seen anything other than anger or surliness on the Kintarian’s face.

  “Crescendo?” The doctor had her slender limbs wrapped around her seat snake-like, her small eyes impossibly wide and staring at nothing. “Dr. Cortes?” That reached her. She stared at Habraum as if never seeing anything like him before.

  The Cerc bucked his teeth and bit down annoyance. Bringing her was a mistake. “When things calm down, I need you to look at Ensign Liddell?” Liliana’s response was the faintest of nods, right before staring off at the ceiling again.

  “Sir!” V’Korram’s snarl startled Habraum. “Detecting an energy echo trailing from our left, probably an older stellar drive engine.”

  “And I’m getting a faint outline of a ship in that location. Caught it in my sweep of that area from the last plasma attack,” Khrome chimed in. “It’s not much, but enough to acquire a target.”

  Habraum wasted no time. “Arcturus, fire at will.”

  Tyris mercilessly unloaded the Phaeton’s batteries when Honaa cut a sharp left turn, dodging another z-bomb flurry. The concussion of blazing energy pounded and lit up the large sleek outline of another ship not far from their port side.

  “Direct hit,” V’Korram roared. “Broad-spectrum damage to the shroud and primary engines.”

  “I want the ship disabled, not destroyed. Khrome, anything on our attacker?”

  Khrome blinked with interest, as data on the mysterious ship finally scrolled on his display. “Looks like a Raider-Class vessel, but with subtle differences from the UComm and Kedri flavors. Thankfully like all other ships, it can’t initiate any type of shielding when shrouded—.”

  “Incoming at sssstarboard!” Honaa hissed. A dazzling volley revealed the Raider’s companion ship still alive and shrouded. A dive then a sudden climb put the Phaeton right below the first ship, whose damaged shroud winked its outline in and out of visibility.

  Despite this, sizzling plasma bursts blazed from the damaged ship’s weapon ports, but Habraum knew Phaeton’s shields could handle them. Tyris peppered the Raider ship across its underbelly with a blistering combo of photon fusillade and low-level neutrino disabling shots.

  The attacking ship was now fully exposed; a stretched out, slender, dark-grey triangular body with a dagger-like nose pointed out. Its curves and glowing weapon banks made it look more like a sleek pulse rifle with engines. Habraum studied the vessel coldly, recognizing its make and type at a glance. Definitely Raider-Class, perfect for sneak attacks or high-speed escapes. Now the ship floated aimlessly in space, crippled as the Phaeton moved on to its new target.

  More plasma fire rained down on the Phaeton, from a cloaked location. Honaa barrel-roll
ed right and pulled up into a breakneck climb, setting them in position for a clean shot at where the plasma bursts originated. Tyris, a wicked glimmer in his cobalt eyes, unleashed the Phaeton’s weapons.

  The photon bursts cut through nothing but dark empty space. The other ship had vanished, again.

  Habraum swore. “Khrome, Jakadda, where is that ship?”

  “Not sure. This one’s being more careful and masking its energy trails— wait a macrom.” Khrome frowned at the bridge’s main viewport.

  “I’m sensing…something nearby,” he finally said, ignoring the concerned looks of his teammates.

  “I’m not getting any ship readings,” V’Korram growled.

  “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re not a Thulican,” Khrome said impatiently.

  “Reign!” Honaa hissed at Habraum, pointing to the viewport. The Cerc turned and then saw it.

  In front of them a flickering energy pattern roiled and rippled. Habraum braced himself. Suddenly, the second ship appeared onscreen. Habraum noted it larger size compared to the Raider ship, but bearing the same design. But why this ship dropped shroud in the middle of battle was what struck him and the rest of the team as bizarre. Whatever just happened, Habraum knew not to squander the opening.

  Tyris already let loose before the word, “Fire!” left Habraum’s mouth. In reprisal, the new Raider ship’s batteries started glowing red and the shimmering outline of its shields began to take shape.

  But the Phaeton’s photon charges struck first, brutalizing the ship with sizzling intensity. Habraum grinned as Honaa circled all around the Raider ship so Tyris could hit its vital spots. Brilliant teamwork.

  A swelling orange plume from the rear marked the destruction of the Raider’s engine drives; another bright rupture from its nose signaled the weapons ports’ utter ruin. Tyris finished the trifecta by drilling the shield generator and communications projector dead-on with a low-charged protobomb. The ensuing flare-up on the Raider’s portside rocked the Phaeton’s shields, but caused no damage.

  Somehow the enemy ship managed to spurt off one last z-bomb. Honaa calmly and promptly rolled to port. “Neutrino shots this time, Arcturus,” Habraum ordered coolly. “Modify to disable the Korvenites onboard, too.”

  Bluish energy ripped out of the Phaeton’s weapons ports, sizzling across the hull of the wounded vessel. Now it floated without direction like its sister craft nearby.

  “Wow,” Habraum sighed and slumped in his seat, adrenaline turning the blood in his veins into electricity. Definitely not the way he envisioned his team’s first field mission, but thankfully they survived. And something told him that it was far from over. He glanced around the bridge, taking in his team’s reactions. “How we doing kids?”

  Everyone’s response was audible and positive. At this, Liliana started in her seat like one jolted awake. She scurried to the medical station for the medical tools at her disposal and back to the still-unconscious Liddell at helm.

  “I’m a perfect 10 now with comm’s back on,” replied Sam confidently as she punched away at her console. “Sent a distress signal to the nearest UComm vessel for assistance.”

  Khrome’s eyes were still fixated on the viewscreen, searching for whatever he sensed earlier. Habraum glanced over at comms and Sam. “Can you raise the mining structure?”

  “Nope,” she replied. “There are some totally blacked out areas all over the six asteroids. No comms, nothing. But I got a schematic of VanoTech’s mining facility in Barsulae. Sending it to the bridge table now.” Sam crossed her legs and swiveled her seat in one fluid motion to face the bridge table. Habraum, Khrome, Tyris and V’Korram all gathered around, as an identical 3-D wire diagram of the mining station winked into existence on the bridge table’s TriTran. Honaa turned in that direction from his seat at the helm. Liliana glanced over while on her knees treating Liddell’s injury. Several tiny, multihued dots moved all over the diagram, signifying the different species aboard the facility. Adding to this were pulsing regions throughout the asteroid cluster diagram, detailing heavy mining still in progress.

  Habraum craned his neck forward. “We got a whole lot of humans, Nnaxans, some Cressonish here and there, plus,” he pointed to the cluster of green dots in the largest asteroid, “twenty Korvenites.”

  “Maybe more miners than Phaeton can hold,” Tyris said, his cobalt eyes narrowing to slits of black.

  “And it’s in one of the blacked out areas,” Sam jabbed her index finger at the biggest dot cluster.

  “But can we get them from the station onto the ship without any problems?” Habraum turned to Khrome, who was still staring off at the viewport.

  “Not with standard transmatting,” Liliana chimed in, finishing up on a more alert looking Liddell. The svelte doctor hurried from helm control as if its very air was toxic, sliding easily into her seat. “Since none of those miners have UComm combands, the pure sollunium ore will interfere.”

  Everyone stared at her. “And here I thought you were a medical doctor,” Sam mused.

  Liliana shrugged awkwardly. “I collect rocks as a hobby.”

  “It’s GONE!” Khrome suddenly shouted, his metallic timbre catching Habraum off-guard. “Where did it go?” For the first time in memory, Habraum heard fear in Khrome’s voice.

  “Khrome—,” Tyris began impatiently.

  “Ty, don’t start.” Khrome waved off the Tanoeen’s admonishment with a mitt-sized hand. “I sensed some type of Cybernarr presence out there. Now it’s hiding.”

  The room went silent. Habraum stared at the Thulican in dawning horror. It can’t be, he thought to himself. Marguliese can’t be here already. The Cerc noticed the others turning from Khrome to him, puzzled looks on their faces. Everything was happening too fast. He planned on telling them about Marguliese on his terms. Not like this. Not right now.

  “Lieutenant. Focus,” Habraum barked, as much for the Thulican as for himself. “We have KIF operatives on that mining station. Not Cybernarr. It’s another Korvenite trick.” The lie nearly caught in his throat, but somehow Habraum forced it out.

  The Thulican seemed to steady after hearing that, rubbing his flat head. “I’m sure I could find a way to punch through the transmatting static sollunium creates. But even for me it would take fifty to fifty-five macroms.”

  “Macroms those hostages don’t have,” V’Korram pointed out.

  Khrome gave him a hardened look. “Thanks for the PSA, Furball. But there’s a way to get them in less time than what my genius in transmatter sciences can provide.” He sprang from his seat and to the tech station with surprising speed for his bulkiness. Habraum watched calmly as Khrome rummaged through some utility slots of his tech station and pulled out a miniature blue sphere in his hand.

  “A teleglobe,” Honaa slapped a hand on the table heartily. It was a weapon used to transmat several sentients at close range to a preprogrammed location, which would be the Phaeton in this case.

  By the wide-eyed look on Liliana’s face, she already knew how they had to be used. “That means entering the mining asteroid.”

  “Yep!” Khrome nodded far too enthusiastically.

  Habraum almost refused him outright. Almost. This combat team was simply not ready for any field mission. But the hostages on that mining station were counting on his next decision.

  “Heatstroke,” Habraum turned to Sam, using her code name. “How soon will the closest UComm vessel arrive?”

  “An orv at least,” she said without even looking at her data displays. Habraum could sense her keenness to get on that station from across the bridge.

  Skyfather’s cock! the Cerc almost spat, but caught himself. He observed the mining station display for a moment and turned to his combat team, his Star Brigade. “Alright then, everyone grab two teleglobes and get ready. It’s game time.”

  Within ten macroms, the team stood fully suited for battle in the Phaeton cargo bay. Each Brigadier had on Khrome’s psi-damper earpiece plus two teleglobes in their utility bel
ts. V’Korram found a location on the largest asteroid totally blind to the mining facility’s sensors. That way the Brigade could mask their transmat into the mining facility.

  The mix of tension and emotions among the Brigadiers colored the air, no matter how well veiled. Khrome’s eyes still wandered, trying to sense the cybernetic presence. Liliana’s whole carriage was a portrait of fear. Honaa’s steely gaze and thin-lipped muzzle betrayed only determination.

  “Liddell,” Habraum said to helm control via the Phaeton’s comm system. “Make sure those ships stay put. Drill them with neutrino shots if you see even a twitch.”

  “Aye, sir,” the young man answered.

  “I’m guessing we shouldn’t damage those mines too much, no?” Sam asked, eager like a kid.

  Habraum regarded her coolly. “Unless it helps stopping the KIF or rescuing those miners, I can’t bring myself to care.” He knew full well these mines were the property of VanoTech, the interplanetary megaconglomerate owned by the richest earthborn human family in the Union—the Vanowens. The Cerc reckoned that anyone wealthy enough to build their own private moon would barely sneeze at damages to this minor subsidiary.

  Habraum checked his golden gauntlets one last time and sighed, his own worries hidden beneath a steely mask and a familiar rush of adrenaline. Time to go to work. “Right, then. Take us down, Ensign.”

  Liddell responded with a comm click. The well-lit cargo bay then shimmered around Habraum and his combat team, vanishing into a wash of glittery white light.

  23.

  For a brief nanoclic, Habraum felt the familiar yet tiresome sensation of transmatting tugging at him. Or is that just my fears telling me how lollybrained this plan is? The transmat shimmer quickly faded into walls of obsidian rock and blinking silver consoles. Glancing around, Habraum found himself and CT-1 at the end of a long, wide corridor with similar fortification designs along its darkened stretch. The corridor itself was a four metrid-high circle cutting straight through the asteroid’s stony ore. This particular area looked to be still under construction, explaining why the Phaeton detected no working sensors. Sam, Honaa and Liliana all whipped out their corresponding datapad scanners at once, probing for any helpful statistics.