Guardian Outcast

by G J Ogden

  GUARDIAN OUTCAST

  BOOK ONE OF THE STAR SCAVENGER SERIES

  G J Ogden

  Ogden Media Ltd

  Copyright © 2020 G J Ogden

  All rights reserved

  Published by Ogden Media Ltd

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Grady Earls

  Editing by: S L Ogden

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to Sarah for her work assessing and editing this novel, and to those who subscribed to my newsletters and provided such valuable feedback.

  And thanks, as always, to anyone who is reading this. It means a lot. If you enjoyed it, please help by leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads to let other potential readers know what you think!

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  Other military sci-fi series by G J Ogden:

  - The Contingency War Series

  - The Planetsider Trilogy

  THE STAR SCAVENGER SERIES

  One decision can change the course of an entire civilization. One discovery can change your life…

  READ ALL THE BOOKS IN THE SERIES:

  - Guardian Outcast

  - Orion Rises

  - Goliath Emerges

  - Union's End

  - The Last Revocater

  PROLOGUE

  System 5118208. That was the name of the star system that contained the solitary corporeal species to have survived the great ship’s purge. One out of dozens of species, spread across an even greater number of worlds.

  It should not have been so. The great ship’s ultimate victory had been stolen from it by an artificial intelligence created solely to preserve life. Now these artificial minds were all gone too. All except for the Telescope – the crowning glory of the first sentient corporeal species to exist. The Telescope had been spared by the great ship so that it could witness the end of everything its creators had accomplished. Now it was a silent observer, ever watchful and ever fearful of the great ship’s return.

  Fortunately, the great ship was lost and rudderless. It did not know for how long it had wandered. It had stopped counting the number of stars it had watched grow old and die. However, with its crystal destroyed, the great ship was cursed to drift aimlessly through space. Cursed to exist, knowing its function was incomplete.

  Meanwhile, the surviving corporeal species had flourished, despite its isolation. For millennia it had been constrained to a single world. Eventually, they stretched beyond the boundaries of their atmosphere. At first, their progress was slow. Then the first portal was discovered. Soon after, the first portal world was located. And then they had found the first crashed alien wreck – one of the many titanic vessels that had failed to prevent the great ship’s purge.

  After this, aided by the technological secrets they discovered, the corporeals' progress accelerated rapidly. They spread through the portals to new worlds, and created new factions. The Coalition of Earth Territories. The Martian Protectorate. The Union of Outer Portal Worlds.

  The Telescope had watched it all, secure in its knowledge that System 5118208 remained hidden from the great ship.

  Yet it also knew that few secrets remain buried forever.

  CHAPTER 1

  The thrill of the chase was something Hudson Powell loved and hated in near equal measure. He loved the rush of pushing a spacecraft close to its limits, and pitting his piloting skills against those of another. However, Hudson wasn’t an adrenalin junkie, and in this very real and dangerous game of cat and mouse, apprehension was always a close second to exhilaration.

  Hudson aimed the nose of the nimble RGF Patrol Craft at the dot in the distance. The muscle in his thigh burned from the effort of holding the thruster pedal flat against the deck. His exertion was paying off, though, and they were closing rapidly. His target ship was a runner – a relic hunter that was attempting to smuggle alien artefacts off-world, without paying the taxes owed to RGF and the controlling authority. As a recent recruit to the Relic Guardian Force, this was Hudson’s first live runner. And although he had trained for this, and it was far from the first time he’d chased down another ship in anger, his heart was still thumping harder than a boxer’s fist.

  “Sixty seconds to weapons range,” said Hudson. This was merely for the benefit of his partner and training officer, Logan Griff – though he preferred to go by his last name. Griff said nothing, and responded by tightening his grip on the gun controls. For Griff, it wasn’t the thrill of the chase that he loved; it was the excitement of the kill. Yet unlike Hudson, who was fighting to control the flutters in his gut, there was no suggestion that Griff was in any way troubled about executing his duties.

  The smuggler’s light freighter was now clearly visible against the sapphire blue atmosphere of the portal world known as Vivaldi One. Hudson had flown a dozen freighters just like it before signing on to join the RGF. He knew it had no chance of reaching the portal before he could intercept it. Whoever was on board must have been desperate to attempt a run, Hudson realized. They were lucky to have even gotten this far. However, the consequences should the runner fail to escape were severe, sometimes even fatal.

  An indicator flashed on Griff’s communications panel, and he opened the channel. Hudson saw that it was a message from the Relic Guardian Force checkpoint on the planet’s surface. “RGF Patrol Craft Scimitar, you are cleared to engage and disable relic hunter vessel Archer, ID Sierra Zero Four Eight Alpha, for checkpoint breach violation.”

  “I bet this guy’s a dumb rook, like you,” sneered Griff, the near burnt-out end of a cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. He was a wiry, six-foot-tall malcontent, with long, bony fingers, the tips of which were stained yellow from nicotine. However, despite all the smoke he routinely sucked into his body, Griff had no chill whatsoever. And he made no bones about hating being lumbered with a thirty-eight-year-old rookie.

  “You see, this is why you don’t get many novice relic hunters these days,” Griff continued, as he removed the cigarette stub from his mouth. He then flicked it onto the dashboard in front of his seat, before smoothing his wiry black moustache. The stub lay there, smoldering gently until the fire suppression system snuffed it out with a short blast of CO2. “They’re all dumb enough to try antics like this,” Griff rambled on. “I bet this guy hasn’t even found anything worth stealing.”

  Hudson frowned, wondering if Griff had meant that the relic hunter had likely found nothing of value. Though it was more likely his repugnant boss was complaining that it wouldn’t be worth the effort of him thieving it off the runner. In the short few months that he’d been an RGF officer, he’d discovered, to his immense disappointment, that the Relic Guardian Force was corrupt. And Logan Griff was more of a crook than any of the scoundrels that made up the relic hunter crews.

  His taxi flyer friends and former freelance pilot colleagues back in San Francisco had warned him this was the case, and he secretly wished he’d heeded their advice. Still, Hudson had refused to accept that the independent force set up to police the titanic alien wrecks was corrupt. He’d discovered the truth less than a week after graduating from t
he three-month academy training program. And it was no accident that this revelation had coincided with Griff being assigned as his training officer.

  “Come on, rook, we don’t have all day!” Griff barked at him, snapping Hudson out of his daydream. “Just get me close enough so that I can mow it down with the nose cannon.”

  Hudson frowned again, and glanced across to his partner, “You’re going to warn him over the comm channel first, though, right?”

  “Why would I do that?” replied Griff, looking at Hudson as if he’d just suggested punching himself in the groin. “He’s a confirmed runner.”

  “So that he has a chance to give up?” replied Hudson, hesitantly. Despite knowing that RGF guidelines required them to give runners the opportunity to surrender, Griff had still made him question his knowledge of the code.

  Griff snorted a laugh, “Yeah, sure!” Then he shook his head, and flicked off the safety on the patrol craft’s deadly rotary cannon. “I sometimes forget how green you still are.”

  Hudson opened his mouth to complain, but Griff shut him down sharply.

  “Don’t even think about spouting off to me about the code,” Griff snapped, glowering at Hudson contemptuously. “It doesn’t mean a thing, not out here. It’s about time you got that into your thick head, rook, or you and me are going to have a problem.” Griff then turned his attention back to the gun controls, but he hadn’t quite finished his dressing-down. “Now shut the hell up and get behind that freighter, before it reaches the portal. If it jumps back to CET space before we get visual confirmation of the contraband, then we can’t seize it.” Griff paused for effect and then added, “You should know that; it’s part of the code.”

  Hudson bit his tongue. In the short time that Griff had been his training officer, he had learned that arguing with him was pointless. If he had been any more pig-headed, Griff would have oinked every time he opened his mouth. Instead, he continued to chase down the rogue relic hunter. Despite the freighter running at full burn up from the planet, it was unable to outpace the sprightly RGF patrol craft.

  “That’s it, hold it there…” said Griff, grasping hold of the gun controls. Hudson could see the targeting reticule light up on the heads-up display. Suddenly, he got chills, as he realized that Griff was genuinely going to shoot the relic hunter without offering a warning. And he wasn’t aiming to disable the ship; he was shooting to kill. Despite everything Griff had said, Hudson had still thought he was bluffing. His mouth went dry and his hands tightened around the controls, as he eased his foot off the thruster pedal. It was just enough to give the rogue relic hunter a superior acceleration curve, allowing it to start slipping away.

  Suddenly, the vibratory buzz of the rotary cannon rattled through his chair. Its abruptness startled him and caused his hand to jolt the controls, jinking the little RGF ship to the side. The bulk of the rounds flew wide of the relic hunter vessel, but a few clipped its wing.

  “Damn it, rook, what the hell are you doing?!” Griff yelled over, slamming his fist on the dash. “I said hold it steady, not jerk it around like a kite!”

  “Sorry, I…” Hudson thought hard for a good excuse and then said, “sneezed…” He winced at the feeble inadequacy of his improvised response. However, there was no opportunity for Griff to berate him further, since at that moment, the relic hunter ship span around to face them.

  “Wait, what’s it doing?” asked Hudson out loud, though not really directing the question at Griff.

  “It’s going to attack us, you moron!” Griff barked, as he lined up the cannon for another shot.

  “But relic hunter vessels aren’t allowed to carry weapons!” said Hudson, smarting from yet another insult from his TO.

  Griff shook his head, “Jeez, you really are greener than pea soup, aren’t you?” Then he glanced up at Hudson, who was still holding course. “Don’t just sit there, rook, take evasive action!”

  For the first few weeks after his graduation, Griff’s constant digs about being ‘green’ and a ‘rook’ were like water off a duck’s back. Now, each fresh taunt felt like a papercut, seasoned with lemon juice. Hudson may have been a rookie RGF officer, but he’d spent almost twenty years flying around the galaxy in various freight and private passenger transport gigs. He wasn’t an idiot, and he was easily as worldly-wise as his vulgar partner, but Griff had a way of making him feel like a kid on his first day at school. Nevertheless, Hudson was also fast learning what the RGF really was. And he knew in his bones that it wasn’t for him.

  Hudson began to throw the nimble craft into a series of kinks and shimmies, though he didn’t see the point if the relic hunter ship wasn’t armed. Then, as if in direct response to his doubting thoughts, a ripple of tracer fire erupted from somewhere beneath the relic hunter vessel’s cockpit. The rounds snaked harmlessly into space, way off to their port side.

  “Not armed, huh?” said Griff, as he squeezed the trigger, causing another vibratory buzz to rattle through Hudson’s control column. This time some of the rounds struck the relic hunter’s starboard wing, causing a cascade of micro-explosions. “Damn, I just clipped it again,” Griff growled, as the ship veered away and began to run again.

  A message crackled over the comm, broadcast on an open channel, “RGF patrol craft, I surrender. Repeat, I surrender!”

  Hudson breathed an audible sigh of relief, and maneuvered the patrol craft back onto a direct intercept course. He opened a comm channel to the freighter and cleared his throat, trying to sound officious. “Relic Hunter Sierra Zero Four Eight Alpha, come to a full stop, power down your engines and prepare for us to come alongside. Any further attempt to escape will be…”

  The rotary cannon rattled again, cutting off the end of Hudson’s sentence like a buzz-saw tearing through wood. This time the rounds landed true, drilling into the freighter’s engines and then raking up across the dorsal section. A series of bright flashes lit up their cold, dark cockpit, forcing Hudson to shield his eyes. When the glare had subsided, Hudson could see that the relic hunter freighter had been fractured into two burning hulks of metal. There was a swarm of wreckage, cargo and burning fuel in the center, which was slowly expanding into space like blood pooling out from an open wound. And, in amongst the debris, Hudson could see the bodies of the three crew members, or what was left of them.

  “Are you insane!” yelled Hudson. He released the control column, letting it spring back to neutral, and whirled around to confront Griff. “What the hell did you do that for? He surrendered; you heard him!”

  Griff sprang out of his chair and aimed a bony, yellowed finger at Hudson, “Mind your tongue, rook! Don’t forget I can have you busted out of this gig in a heartbeat.”

  Hudson also got up and then squared off against Griff. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Bust me out of this gig? You’re the one who just killed three people for no reason. You should be going to jail!”

  “Ah, stop your whining, rook,” Griff hit back. “They were runners – smugglers – and they shot at us first. Even by the code that’s all the reason I needed to blow them away.”

  Hudson stepped towards Griff, fists clenched, more out of frustration than an intent to strike him. Out of all the occasions he’d felt like popping his obnoxious TO in the mouth, this one ranked the highest.

  Griff flinched and took a pace back, before dropping his hand onto his belt next to where his sidearm was holstered. Hudson watched as his partner flicked open the strap holding the weapon in place with his thumb.

  “What? Are you going to shoot me now too?” said Hudson, raising his eyes back up to meet Griff’s.

  Griff glowered back at him. “Rook, I could shoot you and vent you out into space and no-one at the station would give two shits.” Then the corner of his mouth curled up a fraction, “They wouldn’t even notice you’ve gone.”

  An awkward silence followed, but Hudson was careful not to appear any more hostile than he clearly already did. He knew Griff’s threat was mostly bluster, but after w
hat he’d just witnessed, he also realized he had to tread carefully. Finally, it was Griff himself who broke the impasse.

  “I’ll learn you something right now, rook,” spat Griff, “these relic hunters are scum. They don’t play fair, and they don’t care about the law. If you’d have come alongside that freighter, one of the crew would have broadsided us with some sort of improvised cannon.”

  Hudson’s eyes narrowed; he hadn’t considered that possibility. Though, as much as he hated to admit it, after seeing the relic hunter fire at them with weapons it wasn’t supposed to have, Griff’s assertion wasn’t that far-fetched.

  Griff could see that he’d made an impact, and pressed his point, “No-one out here plays by the rules, rook,” he went on. “Not the relic hunters, not the Coalition of Earth Territories or Martian Protectorate, and especially not the Outer Portal Worlds. Out here, we do what we have to, and take what we can. If we’d arrested them and brought them in, the CET, as the controlling authority, would have primary claim on the cargo. The RGF would just get a thin slice. And me and you – we’d get jack shit.” Griff’s wiry muscles relaxed a little, but his hand still hovered beside his sidearm. “Now that they’re destroyed, anything of value we find floating around out there is salvage – first come, first served. And in case you’ve forgotten, we have quotas to meet.”

  Griff’s icy blue eyes remained fixed on Hudson for a few seconds, before he stepped back again and slowly dropped down into his seat. His hand rested on his unclipped holster. “Now, lower the cargo scoop and take us in to the debris field. Maybe there’s still something we can salvage out of this after all.”

  Hudson laughed out loud, but it was a nervous laugh; an incredulous, half-chirrup, half-snort. “You can’t be serious? You want to steal the relics they stole?”