Star Brigade: The Supremacy (SB3) by C.C. Ekeke Page A

your Star Brigadiers are beatcops thrown scraps dolled up as important missions by UComm,” Greystone sneered, digging deeper. “Allow me a more active role as liaison, and the Brigade would be getting real missions—”
    “Goodbye, Greystone,” Habraum cut him off. “End call.” Atom Greystone’s holo vanished, his mouth open in mid-sentence. This wasn’t the first time that sleazy bureaucrat attempted to gain real authority in Star Brigade, nor would it be the last. With Star Brigade back at functioning capacity, many within UComm wanted a piece. Politics , Habraum bristled, one thing he loathed about his current position. Shaking his head, the Cerc called up a holoscreen of Star Brigade’s War Room, where CT-1 was waiting. He usually did this before arriving at a debriefing, relishing the sight of his operatives connecting.
    CT-1 and Jan’Hax sat around the War Room’s large round table. Habraum had lost count of how many post-mission briefings had occurred in this room. Khrome wore a t-shirt with the encircled Star Brigade logo, as did Tyris and Jan’Hax. The uniformity didn’t surprise Habraum, given how close those three were. Sam sat next to Khrome, butter-blonde hair piled atop her head. She had changed into a body-hugging crimson magnezipped hoodie and matching drawstring pants, both made from velvety kurthon fabric. Liliana Cortes, parked between Jan’Hax and Tyris, looked lithe and slender in her long-sleeved black tee and khaki cargos. V’Korram, also dressed down, wore long shorts and a dark cutoff t-shirt that displayed his fur-covered arms with their lithe, chisled muscles. A red bandana covered the Kintarian’s forehead, his long ginger hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. The being not casually dressed was Marguliese, svelte in a dark-grey catsuit and her scarlet mane in a side-parted bun. The Cybernarr sat removed from what looked like a spirited conversation.
    “He’s useless,” V’Korram growled, arms folded across his massive chest.
    “Morje’Huijadan’s not useless,” Liliana fired back, her words accented with the Spanish flavors of Navarre, on Terra Sollus. “Bogosian threw him under a hovertram, so now he’s dealing with the fallout of the botched trade agreement and the Battle of Terra Sollus.”
    “Barely the start of his blunders,” V’Korram snarled out. “Useless.”
    Liliana rolled her eyes ferociously at V’Korram’s surliness.
    Politics , Habraum decided sourly. The news streams nowadays were rife with the failings of interim Chouncilor Morje’Huijadan, the former Vice Chouncilor who took over after Ari Bogosian’s surprise resignation months ago.
    “I get why Bogosian resigned, but Lily’s right, no?” Sam added, idly fingering her Cantalesian heartknot necklace. The silvery chain was subtle, a green quosprace gem encircled by knotted metal hanging off it. Except on the field, Sam wore it everywhere. That made Habraum smile.
    “Have you seen public-opinion polls on Morje’s performance?” Jan’Hax asked. Tyris shuddered.
    Liliana raised her eyebrows. “That bad?”
    “Useless,” V’Korram hissed.
    “Word around Terra Sollus is that the Bicameral’s pushing for a referendum vote to dump Morje and hold emergency elections for a New Chouncilor,” Khrome added with a scandalous smirk.
    Shock rippled around the table, save from Sam and Marguliese. Tyris’s eyes narrowed into dark-blue slits. “Wonder which high-powered doofus will get elected?”
    “When the vote passes, Ty,” Sam leaned back and stretched, catlike, “you’ll have many doofi to pick from.”
    V’Korram snorted. “Senator Guilloche should be Chouncilor. He has the experience.”
    “Honey?” Sam looked at the Kintarian sideways. “That’s someone we never want as Chouncilor.”
    V’Korram was looking surly at that response. “Why?”
    “Well,” Tyris said coldly, “he’s a morally bankrupt powermonger.”
    “And don’t get me in full swing on how Guilloche