Echoes of Guardians

by C. S. Harte

“As much as I want to show you every centimeter of our ship, aren’t you here to see the cargo we’re hauling?”

  “Open this door. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  The door rattled but didn’t open.

  Jonas tried the fourth key to no avail.

  “Hmm, it’s locked,” Captain Campos said.

  “Then unlock it.”

  “My apologies, this is a storage room we don’t use much.” He jingled his keys, tapping them against the door. “I’m trying to find the right key.”

  Jonas heard a plasma rifle charging as he hurried to free himself.

  “Ahh, found it.”

  The key clicked.

  Jonas quickly removed his cuffs.

  “Here we go, entering the storage closet now,” Armand said, enunciating every word slowly.

  The little girl peeped her head out of the pile and waved Jonas over.

  Jonas darted toward her and found a smuggler’s hatch. "Thank you," he said to her and crawled inside.

  The little girl closed the hatch on top of him.

  “I’m telling you, there’s nothing inside,” Armand said as he opened the door.

  Both Armand and the Alliance marine entered the storage room.

  Jonas slowed his breathing, trying to be silent.

  The marine walked around the room, making a thumping sound with his heavy boots.

  To Jonas, the thumping boomed like thunder in his little crawlspace. He closed his eyes as he pictured his brother and sister asleep next to him. A bead of sweat dripped to the floor from his chin.

  “See, nothing here but root vegetables and toys,” Armand said.

  “Let’s go.” The marine huffed. “Take us to the cargo hold.”

  After waiting a minute, Jonas slowly climbed out of the hatch. Relief washed over him. He looked around for the little girl, wanting to thank her, but she wasn’t around. A soft glint caught his attention. The Pirate Ace. Captain Armand stopped by 20 minutes later holding a rifle.

  Jonas backed up against the wall and held his hands up. “I told you, I wasn’t going to hurt you or your daughter.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “Your daughter, Nelli. She handed me the keys and showed me the smuggler’s hatch.” Jonas pointed at the hatch with his eyes.

  Armand’s hands started to shake. “You’re lying. My daughter is sick and has been in bed this whole time.”

  Jonas’ eyes opened wide. “What? No…”

  “I don’t care how you got out, just chain yourself back up.” Armand removed the safety on his rifle.

  11

  Jonas followed Armand off the Santos and onto the landing pad of Caldia Space Station. Neon blue lights from skyscrapers interspersed with red flashing lights from massive billboards created a purple aura over the city. Its brightness forced Jonas to cover his eyes with his handcuffed hands. He shifted his gaze upward and saw storm clouds partially masking the starry night sky.

  Armand tossed a bag over his shoulder. Underneath his cloak, he held onto a gun with one finger steady on the trigger. “First time on Caldia, I take it?”

  “This station has a simulated sky? Are those real clouds?”

  “Almost nothing is as it seems on Caldia. The creators wanted to simulate the look and feel of Earth, so they went through the trouble of creating this fake sky above our heads, complete with fake clouds.” Armand shrugged.

  Jonas watched as towering holographic ads played. A woman with pink hair and black eyes gyrated her hips, dancing to a silent melody. When she finished, she smiled and pointed toward the entrance of a nightclub called, Riddle. After a few seconds, the ad disappeared only to repeat in a seemingly endless loop.

  Armand pushed Jonas forward. “I understand it’s been some time since you had fun with the ladies, but take my advice: I would stay away from those types of places. No good comes from them. Besides, I don’t think you’ll have much time for that.”

  “What do you mean?” Jonas turned around. “Do you know what Tycho wants with me?”

  “It’s King Tycho. Don’t make the mistake of forgetting that in his presence. And no, I don’t know what he wants. He doesn’t give the Pirate Ace freely, that much I know. The greater the gift, the greater the expectation in return.” Armand gestured with his rifle for Jonas to continue down the ramp.

  “This place feels more like a city than a space station. At least not any space station I’ve been on.”

  “I know you’re just taking in the sights, but we shouldn’t be out in the open for too long.”

  They took a decktram to the street level and walked toward the heart of the city-station.

  A homeless man came out of the shadows of an alley and held out a hand as he approached Jonas. He moved his mouth to speak, but only gurgling sounds came from his lips.

  Armand steered Jonas away. “Neuro-junkies. Looking for another fix. Best to stay away from them.”

  “It seems like I should stay away from everything in this city,” Jonas smirked.

  “Now, you’re getting it.” Armand chuckled.

  As they moved further along the street, Jonas saw more neuro-junkies. Some had visible dark blue veins in their skin and yellow corneas. “Is that neuro-rot?”

  Armand nodded. “Have you heard of pleasure neuromods?”

  “Aren’t those illegal throughout the Commonwealth?”

  “Not on Caldia. See that evil looking building with the red lights?” Armand pointed to a skyscraper in the center of the station. “That’s home of the ruling council, in the middle of Central District. They’re supposed to be the governing body here unless King Tycho tells them otherwise. They tend to be quite flexible with the laws if enough credits are added to their accounts."

  "I'll keep that in mind." Jonas looked for the girl with the rainbow eyes as Armand talked. What are the chances she could be here?

  "As I was saying earlier, the pleasure mods we have are special. They’ve been modified to inhibit impulse control, making them extremely addictive. Because of this, people take their vices to an excess — more drugs, sex, alcohol, gambling, you name it.”

  “Is that why these people have neuro-rot? They left their pleasure mod on for prolonged periods of time?”

  “I would say so. I’m not sure how someone can argue otherwise. Let’s move on. These filthy people are done. Can’t be saved.”

  A new hologram appeared in front of Jonas. It took the image of a middle-aged man wearing a Fleet Officer’s uniform, crisp blue and gold with numerous medals pinned to his chest.

  “Good evening, Citizens.” The hologram’s eyes peered at Jonas and Armand from head to toe. “You two look like capable fighting men. Would you like to hear more about the perks of a career in Fleet?”

  Armand whispered into Jonas’ ear, “Ignore the ads. You’ll get these a lot.”

  Jonas stood still as Armand continued walking. “I request updates on the Mimic war.”

  The hologram froze for a moment and then smiled. “I am unaware of any Mimic war. But if there is one, we are surely winning.”

  Jonas shook his head and walked through the hologram.

  “Be well, Citizens,” said the hologram with a wave.

  They passed by the Riddle nightclub that was advertised earlier. The hostess, a tall, dark woman with short, blond hair wearing a floral dress stood outside greeting patrons.

  Jonas stopped to stare at her. If he squinted a certain way, she reminded him of Whisper. I need to find Whisper. Let her know I’m here. His heart ached when he thought of her. Jonas tried to picture her face and realized he was starting to forget how she looked. Whisper never mentioned a time and place to meet. Do I find her, or will she find me?

  The hostess turned her attention to Jonas and waved him over.

  Armand grabbed Jonas’ shoulder. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to go there.”

  “Why not?” Jonas raised his brow. She looks like Whisper in disguise…

  “That’s not a nightclub,
and we need to stay away from people we don’t know.”

  “It looks like one to me.” Jonas walked toward the hostess.

  “I told you, not everything is as it seems here,” Armand shouted, choosing not to follow Jonas.

  In his peripheral vision, Jonas saw three men vectoring in on him.

  Each person wore the same clothing, all-black combat suit with a white armband on the right sleeve.

  Armand ran to Jonas and grabbed his elbow. “I can’t believe I’m going to help you… We have to leave. Now!” He steered Jonas into a dimly lit alley. Once they reached the end, they turned a corner and sprinted down the street toward Central District. “I’m thinking you aren’t worth the trouble, even for the Pirate Ace reward.”

  “Do you know who they are?” Jonas looked back as he ran.

  “I don’t even know who you really are!” He scoffed.

  “Unlock my cuffs.”

  Armand hesitated for a moment. “Fine. I can trust you to do something stupid that would give me time to escape.” He freed Jonas from his restraints.

  “Thanks.” Jonas flexed his wrists. “Where to now?”

  “We have to make it to the tall silver building.” Armand pointed at a structure two blocks from the city council building. “King Tycho will keep us safe.”

  Jonas kept his pace slow so Armand could keep up.

  They skidded to a halt when a barrel-chested man wearing the same black combat suit as their pursuers appeared in front of them. This burly man stood perfectly still with his arms crossed in front of his chest and shook his head as if telling Jonas and Armand not to run.

  “I’ll take care of him.” Jonas took two steps forward before Armand pulled him back.

  “Look around us.”

  Jonas scanned his surroundings. There were dozens of the mysterious foot soldiers now, each with the same empty expression on their face. “Who are you? And what do you want?” Jonas shouted at the barrel-chested man in front of him.

  He didn’t answer.

  Why is everyone after me? Jonas licked his lips and squeezed his hands into fists.

  Armand moved next to Jonas. “I’ve seen that look in the eyes of a cornered man before. Whatever you’re about to do, you probably shouldn’t.”

  A hand tapped the burly man's shoulder. He moved aside to reveal a new person wearing the same gear with one key distinction, a red cape draped over his shoulder and a gold helmet covering his face.

  I’m guessing that’s the leader.

  The new person approached Jonas and said in a synthesized baritone voice, “Come with me.”

  Jonas flared his nostrils. “Answer my questions. Who are you and what do you want with me?”

  The eyes on the helmet glowed red for a moment before darkening to black again. The masked man turned away from Jonas and said to the burly man. “Take them both. Alive.”

  “Yes, Lord Raven.” The burly man nodded to the rest of the soldiers surrounding Jonas and Armand.

  They charged at Jonas first.

  Jonas took down the first soldier with a clothesline.

  A second soldier grabbed Jonas by the shoulder.

  Jonas flipped him over and stomped on his chest.

  Another soldier fired a dart which hit Jonas’ neck, sending blue arcs of electricity into his body.

  Jonas passed out for a few seconds but quickly regained consciousness due to his enhanced healing biomod. He waited for the soldier to hover over him. When the soldier did, Jonas choked the soldier with one hand and smashed his jaw with the other.

  "Help!" Armand screamed.

  Jonas kicked the henchmen holding down Armand.

  Lord Raven disappeared for a moment before reappearing behind Jonas. "Enough!" He stabbed at Jonas’ pressure points with his fingers.

  Jonas stood completely frozen. “What did… you do… to me?” Unable to close his eyes, Jonas watched as a black fist rammed into his face. He fell backward, slamming his head on the ground. Intense pain radiated from the back of his skull to his eyes. The world became blurry then black. All the rage inside Jonas could not keep him awake.

  12

  Freezing water poured over Jonas’ head. He sucked in a breath as he woke. An ear-splitting headache came roaring alive, and he felt a stabbing pain in his neck. Where am I? He blinked rapidly, forcing his eyes to focus. Jonas tried to stand but found his wrist and ankles restrained to a chair. He was naked. Blood dripped down the sides of his arms.

  Standing in front of Jonas was the gold helmeted man his associates called Lord Raven.

  Jonas looked for Armand in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. Rebellious graffiti claiming Commonwealth corruption blanketed the walls. “Listen, I think you have the wrong person. I keep getting confused with some other guy…”

  Raven crossed his arms. After a moment of silence, he nodded at one of his henchmen.

  The associate covered Jonas’ head with a cloth hood.

  Jonas felt two sets of hands gripping his shoulders.

  They pulled Jonas backward, tipping him over.

  Another stretched his cloth hood taught over Jonas’ nose and mouth.

  Water splashed against his face, much of it flowed into his throat, creating the sensation of drowning.

  After a minute, they stopped and allowed Jonas to sit upright but left the soaked hood on his head.

  Jonas took this time to catch his breath. His chest heaved with every inhale. The migraine pounded even more intensely than before. “Raven, right? That’s what your kids call you? What do you want?” He strained to see through the wet cloth.

  “I ask the questions,” Raven said with a heavily modulated voice. He nodded at his henchman again.

  They repeated the waterboarding process for two minutes this time.

  Jonas tried to hold his breath, resisting the torture.

  When they realized this, they punched him hard in the solar plexus.

  Jonas swallowed a great mouthful of water. His lungs burned as some water went into his lungs.

  They sat him upright.

  One of the soldiers landed a devastating blow to his jaw.

  A warm metallic taste flooded Jonas’ mouth, flowing over his lips.

  Jonas spat a glob of blood. “Are we still doing playtime? Where is Armand, the guy that was with me?”

  They finally removed Jonas' hood.

  Another henchman wheeled a cart into the room, stopping in front of Jonas. On top of the cart was a large glass jar with a serpent swimming inside. The scaly, snake-like creature had a phosphorescent purple band running down its spine, which seemed to brighten whenever someone placed their hands near it.

  “Do you know what this little monster is?” He plucked the creature out of the jar with his gauntlet-covered hand and held it in front of Jonas’ face.

  The worm squirmed and arched its spine toward Jonas as if sensing a meal. The streak on its back pulsed between a bright purple and a dark blue light.

  Raven nodded to a soldier standing next to Jonas.

  The soldier removed a serrated knife from his belt and a made a jagged incision into Jonas’ abdomen.

  Jonas gritted his teeth, holding in a scream. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him suffer.

  Raven held the creature close to the wound.

  It jumped from his hand and slithered into Jonas’ gut.

  Jonas felt an instant searing pain in his lower stomach.

  “Masunog worm.” Raven stepped back and crossed his arms. “It’s attracted to iron-rich sources like your spleen. It’ll take very small nibbles while releasing a neurotoxin that causes your nerves to feel like it's on fire. I find this method to be an ideal means of torturing someone with a healing biomod such as yourself. Don’t worry. It’ll take weeks for you to die.”

  Snickers sounded from the other men in the room.

  Jonas’ eyes rolled into the back of his head. He'd never experienced such extreme agony in his life. “Listening to you talk is torture en
ough. Don’t you think?”

  A henchman stabbed Jonas in the neck with a needle and injected an orange liquid.

  “Stimulants,” Raven said. “We want to make sure you don’t pass out from the pain.”

  They’re all going to die. All of them. Jonas’ breathing became shallow. With the stimulants in his system, he felt his heart wanting to explode out of his chest. Every nerve in his body was on fire. “I’m not the guy you’re looking for.” He gritted his teeth. “Is this what you guys do? Pick up random people off the streets and torture them?”

  “Endurance.”

  Jonas tried not to flinch at that name. What about Endurance? Are these guys from Fleet? He shook his head. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  Raven stood still, studying Jonas’ every facial expression. “So you recognize that name. Your memory wasn’t completely wiped then.”

  The mixture of neurotoxins and stimulant in his blood was a potent cocktail. Jonas felt the need to pass out and the urge to run through a wall at the same time. The migraines no longer throbbed; instead, the sharpness of the pain seemed constant, like a knife slowly dissecting his brain. He struggled to form his thoughts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about? Who… Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Lieutenant Commander Jonas Barick. First Officer of the discovery-class, Commonwealth of Man Ship Endurance. You found something on your mission in the Telmun System. Something that killed most of your crew and drove the ones that survived to insanity.”

  Jonas’ ears perked up.

  “Every byte of data from that mission has been purged. No backup copies, all redundancies gone.” Raven tilted his head. “Very curious, don't you think?”

  “What do you mean the ones that lived became insane?” Black spots filled Jonas’ vision. Am I going insane? Did I really leave Wynter Prison Station?

  “The Endurance had a full complement of 300 crew members at the start of its mission. Less than 40 made it back to Leonis Station. Many survivors killed themselves within two years. You are the only one still alive from that ship.” Raven leaned forward. “Why is that?”

  Jonas laughed.

  “Does something amuse you?”