The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure
Page 43
“It sounds like the odds are stacked against me more so than I thought.” Grimshaw rubbed tiredness out of his eyes.
The old man scratched a bushy white eyebrow. “Likely more than either of us realize.”
“I’ll have to take my chances, sir,” Grimshaw said.
“If you insist on continuing down this path, Captain, understand that if you don’t defeat Petter, he will without a doubt beat you.” He flicked the white queen piece with a wrinkled finger, and she struck the wooden board. “There won’t be any middle ground. It’s that simple.”
“Any tips on how to defeat him?”
“You already know the answer to that question, my friend,” he laughed, playfulness returning to his expression. “In order to master the game, one must play the game.”
Grimshaw turned as footsteps sounded from behind.
“Is Mr. Foster still burning your ear, Captain?” Bernice pursed her lips and shook her head. “You know one of these days you’re going to talk your guests to death, Mr. Foster.”
Grimshaw regarded the former admiral’s care-giver. Despite being an aged veteran of the Confederation Army, she maintained a strong frame and wore a stony scowl to match. Grimshaw had learned early on that Bernice was not the kind to take no for an answer. “Admiral Foster has been schooling me in battle tactics and strategies, as usual. But you know how I love to talk shop.” Grimshaw winked at the old man.
“Well, enough schooling and talking, or whatever it is you boys do,” Bernice demanded. “It’s time for Mr. Foster’s medication.”
“I already had my meds today,” Mr. Foster objected.
“Don’t you start. The doctor increased your dose, and the meds won’t work how they’re supposed to if you don’t take them as instructed,” she tapped her SIG to emphasize her point.
“Fine, you win,”
“I always win,” Bernice countered.
Grimshaw smiled at the irony of the powerful former admiral being defeated by a soldier. “I’ve got another appointment to keep anyhow,” he said, excusing himself.
“There’s another lesson for you, Captain.” The old man groaned as Grimshaw helped him out of his chair and handed him his walking stick. “Chose your battles wisely. And never pick a fight with a woman. There’s no winning that game.”
Bernice shot the former admiral a warning glare as she hooked her arm under his. “It never stops you from trying.”
Grimshaw chuckled as he followed them up the ramp toward the foyer.
“You’re okay to let yourself out this time, Captain?” Bernice nodded to the door.
“Of course.” He bowed his head and bid them farewell. “Thank you again for your time, Admiral Foster. As always, I enjoyed our chat.”
“My pleasure, Captain.” The old man waved his walking cane, and Grimshaw thought he was going to tumble over, but Bernice maintained a tight grip on his other arm.
Grimshaw reached for the exit’s control panel when someone outside knocked. He looked back to the former admiral and Bernice. “Are you expecting someone, sir?”
“Must be those kids selling cookies. My guards know to let them through when they come by.” The old man mockingly lifted his hand to the side of his mouth as though it would hide his words from Bernice. “I do love my cookies, but this one won’t let me have them.”
“They’re bad for you,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Grimshaw’s hand came away from his holster. As he reached for the control panel again, something slammed into the door, rocking its hinges.
“Go now,” Grimshaw hissed. “Find somewhere safe.” His hair stood on end as he activated his TEK’s shields and helmet panels deployed across his face. Straiya had provided him with an acolyte-class Aegis tactical exoframe when she’d twisted his arm and had him join the organization’s ranks. However, he hadn’t had reason to wear the TEK and only had it on at Straiya’s instructions. She wanted him to grow accustomed to it in preparation for the Sentinel Ceremony. Grimshaw checked his scanners, but they didn’t read anything on the other side of the door. Must be stealth tech.
The door shook again and folded inward.
“Whoever you are, stand down!” Grimshaw demanded, backing into the foyer and activating his own ghost-drive. He rounded a pillar for cover, keeping his blaster pointed at the door.
The panel exploded off its hinges and landed in the hallway, rocking to a stop. The doorway, however, was empty. Shit. I should have stayed with the old man.
Grimshaw turned, and something smashed into his face, knocking him to the floor. An invisible mass straddled him, repeatedly pounding down with incredible force. His kinetic shields deflected the worst of the blows, but the levels flickering in his visor dropped quickly. He activated his TEK’s close quarter control measure. A bright blast erupted upward, slamming his attacker into the pillar, scattering bits of broken plaster across the marbled floor. Grimshaw scrambled to his feet and found that his CQCM had damaged the invader’s ghost-drive, exposing a black, nondescript suit: a hired assassin.
Grimshaw took aim and emptied half a magazine into the towering figure. The shots barely affected the bulky warrior as he tumbled sideways and came up on his feet, returning fire with a phase blaster attached to his SIG arm. Grimshaw ducked as energy bolts tore holes in the walls. Several rounds found their mark, reducing his shield to single digits.
He knows my shield configuration. Was Foster the target, or am I?
Grimshaw couldn’t work out why someone would send an assassin after him. It wasn’t as if he was a person of interest. Whoever it was didn’t want him talking to the former admiral, or perhaps he was missing something. He had made plenty of enemies by the mere act of bringing the SS North Star aboard the Sentinel. Grimshaw cursed the Sentinel and its politics. Or maybe Chimera know we’re making headway in our search.
The assassin’s smoking weapon ejected from his SIG, replaced by a shimmering white starblade.
Grimshaw swore. Could Chimera have Aegi-level tech?
The dark figure became a blur as he charged Grimshaw. The starblade swept faster than he could track, and it sliced through his waist, melting through plated armor on contact. Grimshaw dropped to his knees, pain flaring across his abdomen.
The assassin left him on the floor and sped by in the direction of former admiral Foster’s quarters.
Despite the burning agony racking his body, a thought suddenly occurred to Grimshaw. Maybe he’s after us both.
Thinking quickly, Grimshaw administered a cocktail of medication via his SIG and a dull wave of relief washed through his body. He assigned additional power to his leg actuators and stumbled after the assassin, ignoring the pain as he picked up speed. He drew his knife and rounded a corner, finding the assassin exiting a room empty handed. Grimshaw kicked both feet and launched at the attackers back, knife drawn. He stabbed at the attacker’s shoulder blade, opening a crack in his armor.
They rolled onto the ground and wrestled in a flurry of arms and legs. The assassin used his height-advantage and significant strength difference to pin Grimshaw down with one arm and thrust his white-hot blade with the other. Grimshaw moved his head at the last second. The searing sword plunged through his armor and burned into his shoulder. He tried to let out a scream, but his voice refused to work.
He punched at the assassin with his free hand to little effect. He cursed Straiya for not providing an angel-class suit.
Damn her politics. Damn the Council. Damn everything.
The starblade came down again. Grimshaw deflected it with his SIG, the last of his energy seeping from his bones. The flaring energy tore through the device with ease, narrowly missing his arms.
The assassin readied for a final strike to Grimshaw’s face. He lay helpless, teeth gritted in agony, unable to figure out why he had suddenly become so weak. It wasn’t the end he had envisioned for himself.
A gunshot rang out, and the assassin rolled off him, holding the shoulder Grimshaw had damaged. It was hard to te
ll with the warning lights flashing in his visor, but Grimshaw thought he saw blood bubbling in the wound.
Several more blasts fired, and the assassin struck the marble floor, body splayed.
Grimshaw looked up to find Bernice holding a smoking shotgun with Foster senior standing at her shoulder, holding his cane like a weapon.
The old man looked down and winked at Grimshaw. “That’s my old Battleram-32. Glad I kept her around.”
“Thanks,” Grimshaw choked.
He couldn’t work out how, but energy suddenly returned to his limbs. He half-dragged himself to the assassin’s body, Bernice and Foster standing by his side, shotgun ready.
Grimshaw found the helmet clips under the assassin’s chin and removed the face-plate. A dark gauze obscured the assassin’s features. Grimshaw lifted a fold away with the tip of a finger.
The assassin shifted and sprang to his feet, knocking Grimshaw back.
Bernice fired a slug, sending up chunks of marble where the killer had been a nano-second before.
The invader balled past Grimshaw, almost knocking him into the former admiral.
Another shotgun blast struck true, and the black-suited attacker fell against the wall.
The assassin bounced off the surface and used the momentum to launch through a stained-glass window.
Pieces of colored glass scattered on the floor, and Bernice fired again, but the assassin was gone.
Grimshaw pulled himself up onto one leg and hopped to the window, using the wall for support. Bernice and Foster followed. A grizzly scene greeted them. Four dead guards littered the rolling green gardens and flower-beds. He must have been truly skilled to kill all four without making any noise.
A roar cut across the still gardens as a standard station shuttle lifted above the bordering tree-line. It shot across the river and disappeared into the busy lines of traffic flowing between the city’s high-rises.
Bernice stifled a moan at the sight of the bloody slaughter outside. She fumbled with her SIG and called for a medical response unit.
“What about the assassin?” Former Admiral Foster asked.
“Best to let SenSec know about it,” Grimshaw’s voice croaked. His TEK’s natural response system had injected more pain medication, but it barely took the edge off. “The shuttle was unmarked. They’ll never find it. But they might be able to find a lead. Hopefully the medivac can save some of those guards.”
Bernice nodded and called it in with SenSec, her voice turning to a dull drone in Grimshaw’s head as darkness threatened to swamp him.
He dropped to the ground, face first. Someone called his name, but exhaustion had paralyzed his limbs once again, only it seemed more natural this time, even normal. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing so as not to fall unconscious.
If he fell asleep, he’d probably forget that look in the assassin’s eyes when he’d pulled the gauze back. Grimshaw could hardly believe he’d just survived an encounter with a Thandrall.
8
Raging Fire
Clio sat at the workbench in Zora’s hideout, staring off into space, her eyes burning from trawling through Sentinel communication data all evening. She still hadn’t decided whether to accept Straiya’s offer. In truth, she’d been avoiding thinking about it, though the deadline drew near. Between Chimera, Booster, and Swigger, she had too much going on in her head to give it the consideration it deserved. Or maybe I’m using that as an excuse to procrastinate.
Deep down, Clio knew she didn’t want to confront her feelings about what had happened on Colony 115 and her possible, though unintentional, involvement with Chimera. Did I really help them?
Clio decided it was probably best she didn’t know the answer though she suspected she had. She looked at the frayed teddy bear she kept at her workstation as a reminder. I could never live with myself if I helped kill all those people.
Clio thought that she’d grown stronger since the events of Colony 115, but now she wondered if she hadn’t actually grown softer. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to maintain the tough exterior that had protected her before the crash-landing, the armor-like skin that she had developed growing up on the streets of Morigan.
“Is everything okay?” Zora asked.
Clio hadn’t heard her enter. She turned in her chair to see the woman approaching, her movements more graceful and confident than any animal. “Oh, hey Zora. I didn’t even know you were there. I’m okay. Just tired.” She held a hand to her mouth as she stifled a yawn.
“Don’t neglect your body, Clio. You won’t be much good to anyone without rest.”
“Yes, mother,” she said cockily. “I’ll be wrapping up soon. How’s the old man?”
“Taza’s gone to the range to blow off some steam. You look like something’s been bothering you. Has it got something to do with that Marine?”
“Swigger? Hell no…actually…maybe.” She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“I’m happy to talk if you need,” Zora said with a smile.
Clio thought about that for a second. She didn’t usually speak to people so openly, but she had grown close to Zora since boarding the Sentinel. The woman had taken Clio under her wing and trained her in hand-to-hand and advanced weapons combat. “The Chimera Project. Booster still being sick despite months of treatment. Everything. It might be easier to start with what’s not bothering me.” She glimpsed back at the soft toy.
Zora drew up a stool and sat down next to her. “Let’s start with Swigger? You two seemed happy together.”
“He’s only a small part of it,” she said, unable to suppress a smile at the thought of the cocky sharpshooter.
“I can’t say I know him, but he’s seems like a good guy,” Zora said.
“He’s funny, intelligent.”
“Good looking,” Zora said with a playful smile.
Clio laughed, the dark cloud over her head shifting, but only for a second. A sense of melancholy washed over her again all of a sudden. “He’s incredibly loyal…to the Confederation…and therein lies the problem, I think.”
Zora nodded as though she understood. “He gives himself to the Confederation without reserve. I heard he requested a transfer to Grimshaw’s operation when the rest of his squad left the Sentinel. But he didn’t transfer to be with you, did he?”
“Not entirely, but it’s not just that.” Clio paused, second guessing what she was about to say. To hell with it. “I told him something I’ve never told anyone, and he didn’t take it too well.”
“Then take it as a sign that you weren’t meant to be together.”
“Us not being together doesn’t bother me so much. I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with that.”
“Then what’s on your mind, Clio?” Zora raised her eyebrows. “Come on, spit it out. You know I won’t bite.”
“I don’t know…It’s complicated.”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk. But remember. I’m here if you change your mind.” Zora playfully ruffled her hair before standing.
The thought of Straiya leaving frightened her. Something inside Clio told her that she needed to get things off her chest, and Zora was the only other woman she trusted. “I understand Swigger’s reaction. If I was in his position, I would have done the same. His loyalty to the Confederation is incredible. Where I grew up, most people didn’t value things like loyalty. And those who did were considered weak. They didn’t last too long.”
Zora sat down again, keeping her eyes locked on Clio’s. “I know how that feels.”
“What I’m trying to say is, I’m nowhere near as loyal as Swigger and the others,” Clio averted her gaze. “And I’ve done some pretty horrible things as a result.”
“Whatever you’ve done, Clio,” Zora said softly, gently resting her hand on her knee, “it can’t be that bad.”
Clio drew a deep breath. “Before arriving on the Sentinel, I shared Confederation secrets with an unknown third party.” She lowered her voice.
“I told you it was bad,” Clio said, rubbing her eyes in frustration. “What if Swigger reports me?”
“I wouldn’t worry about Swigger. If he hasn’t done that already, he won’t do it now.”
“Sometimes, I wish he would report me. What if the third party was Chimera? I could never live with myself. After what I saw outside Xerocorp Labs on Colony 115…”
Zora’s eye’s widened as though she just remembered something, and a smile spread across her face.
“What the hell’s wrong with you,” Clio all but spat. “It isn’t funny. I knew talking about it was a mistake.”
“Hold on, Clio. When did this third party contact you?”
Clio steadied her shaking voice. “Before I joined the Confederation, at the Steelrose correction facility on Morigan.”
“Listen, Clio.” Zora twirled her hair in her fingers. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Clio tried not to appear taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“Did this third party go by the name of Gilgamesh77?”
Clio felt the blood drain from her face. “How do you know that name?”
“I take it you’re Fiery Phoenix?”
Clio’s jaw fell open. “You’re Gilgamesh77?”
“You sent that data to me, Clio. I use various agents around the galaxy from time to time to help me keep track of events. It’s an essential part of keeping my precog data as current as possible. You don’t need to worry yourself.” Zora chuckled. “What are the chances?”
Clio knew she should have been relieved, but anger coursed through her veins instead. “Did you know it was me all this time?”
Zora stopped laughing and became sullen. “It did cross my mind at one point, but it just as easily could have been anyone.”