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

namechecks the Battle of Terra Sollus to justify his stances,” Jan’Hax chimed in, visibly riled. “In every speech.”
    “That’s actually impressive on his part,” Khrome pointed out.
    “He’s also against Korvenite rights,” Sam continued. “Which gets a big NO from me.”
    The Kintarian merely growled under his breath, green-flecked eyes glittering.
    “How many times has he run for Chouncilor?” Lily asked.
    “Too many,” Sam added, rubbing at her neck. “And whenever a news holovid camera is nearby, there’s Guilloche trying to have sex with it.”
    Most of the table snickered in agreement. Marguliese, who had remained silent, looked puzzled. “Senator Guilloche attempts to interface sexually with technology on a habitual basis, in public?”
    Everyone stared at the Cybernarr, but none had the moxy to laugh.
    “No…Marguliese,” Liliana amended, scratching at her cropped hair. “Guilloche loves getting in front of news-stream cameras for publicity. Sam was stating that in her distinctive way.”
    “Indeed.” Marguliese pursed her lips. “The Senator’s predilections and standpoint on Korvenites notwithstanding, he is a logical choice to better stabilize the Galactic Union.”
    Khrome snorted. “Of course you’d think that.” Suddenly, the room hushed. Marguliese fixated on the Thulican, her golden features as impassive as ever. Khrome glared right back.
    Uh-oh , Habraum cringed. The short and burly Thulican’s hatred for the Cybernarr was no secret. And it showed no signs of cooling even though Khrome had requested that she stay with Star Brigade. Habraum watched as Sam and Liliana exchanged an uneasy glance.
    “If I vote,” the doctor briskly changed topics, “it’d be Pollok Nammat from Uord.”
    Silence. Liliana confessing to armed robbery would have gotten a warmer reception.
    “Pollok Nammat? The hardcore theocrat?!” Sam looked disgusted. “Really?!”
    Jan’Hax’s duck-billed mouth hung open as he jabbed a finger at nothing in particular. “Don’t Theocrats believe that non-Union member races will burn in their respective hells?”
    Khrome turned to Tyris with amusement. “You’re plutoed then, Ty.” He spread his arms disarmingly. “I have nothing against faith-based creeds. But the last thing this Union needs is some scripture-spewing loudmouth halfwit from the ‘god squad’ in its highest office.”
    His teammates burst out laughing, even V’Korram. But not Marguliese, who observed with an arched eyebrow. Sam gripped Khrome’s shoulders to steady herself. “Amen to that, Khrome-Daddy!” she crowed, her throaty laugh filling the room.
    Habraum watched as the discourse continued. He felt a stitch of longing in his chest, knowing that this would be the last debriefing with Sam as his XO.
    When he finally left the refuge of his office, a cacophony of sound slammed into the Cerc. But having grown used to that, Habraum didn’t even flinch as he strode forward.
    One had just to look over the railing to Habraum’s left to see the source of the commotion. The first tier of this extensive space below housed the Command Center, Hollus Maddrone’s operations hub, a blitzkrieg of organized chaos, as usual. Between the Center’s soaring, silver-white walls decorated with bright red angular tracings, dozens of multiethnic analysts and UComm officers either raced around or tacked away at workstations with tireless speed. In addition, a twelve-metrid-high viewscreen at the Center’s forefront leered down at them, flashing a normal multitude of TransNet broadcasts simultaneously. Managing day-to-day operations and transmissions within the massive Hollus Maddrone starbase, along with Star Brigade’s infrastructure, had trained this team to handle their workload with quality precision and speed. Sometimes Habraum got so wrapped up in Star Brigade duties that he forgot how Hollus Maddrone served as a UComm starbase as well as being Star Brigade’s headquarters, handling