The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure

by Killian Carter

  "That is all we can afford," Li said. "The North Star is fully stocked and ready to go. We are waiting for Ensign Evans to recover."

  Grimshaw suddenly remembered something. "Did you install the live quantum broadcaster I requested?”

  "We did indeed. You never told us what you wanted with such a contraption."

  "I want to contact Confederation Central Command and clear the charges of treason. I have footage that proves we tried to help. Sending the files electronically will take years," Grimshaw said, telling half the truth. "Good fighters win battles, but good communicators win wars." He’d read that one somewhere.

  Administrator Li didn’t look convinced, but judging by her shift in countenance, she didn’t have time to inquire further. "You will speak to the Kragak on our behalf?"

  "I’ll have to talk the crew into it," Grimshaw said, rubbing the back of his sweaty neck.

  Administer Li offered Grimshaw a compad.

  He accepted it reluctantly, knowing that the mission would already be underway the second he touched the device.

  "The compad contains all the details you’ll need to prepare your crew. We’ll meet at the same time tomorrow in Briefing Room Four."

  "Of course.” Grimshaw couldn’t think of what else to say. He felt like he’d walked into a trap, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  "I will inform the collective that we will proceed." She glanced at a VD on the wall. "Is it that time? I must go now. So much to do."

  She got to her feet and Grimshaw followed.

  He wanted more time to consider everything, but he knew better than to raise another objection. The Sentinel had fallen. Chimera were running rampant, and before long, the Aphnai would strike in number. The galactic comms network was patchy, and Earth was still cut off from much of the galaxy with further delays to the repairs of G-Gate Alpha. Grimshaw suspected that was also part of Chimera’s plan, but there was no way to tell for sure from inside the Shroud.

  At least we’ll know what’s been going on outside this damned nebula when we leave.

  The door melted, and he followed Li outside. "Will you be sending support?"

  "Everything you need to know is on the compad, but yes, we have gathered a small team of diplomatic relations specialists."

  "I trust Zora and Taza will be otherwise engaged."

  Li nodded. "That’s a long story. Zora went dark while on assignment a few months back. Taza has already agreed to address that and other issues on Ushtar. I selected the negotiators myself. They are the best we have and will more than suffice in Zora’s stead. We will also provide two engineers to assist with North Star operations. They worked on the vessel’s upgrades and will help you operate the ship at maximum capacity. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m running late for another appointment."

  Without another word, Administrator Li turned her back and hurried into an adjoining hallway, leaving Grimshaw with a deluge of conflicting thoughts. He regarded the compad in his hands. No matter what way he looked at it, she was right.

  They had to look for hope in dark places.

  10

  Sparring Bot

  The sparring bot stood six feet away on the training mat…waiting. It half-crouched in a fighting stance with one padded hand prepared to block and the other ready to strike.

  Its eyes glowed yellow, lending its face a menacing edge. Its skeletal limbs and angular joints made it appear flimsy, but that didn’t fool Clio. She regularly trained with the very same bot and knew all too well the uncanny amount of weight it could put behind its strikes.

  She reached for the ceiling and stretched her aching body, her forearm, hip, and shoulder twinging. The pain killers had just kicked in. Two days in an Omnion regeneration chamber, and who knows how many shots of nanites, and I’m still in pain. I must be getting old.

  Given that the average human life-expectancy was just short of two-hundred Earth years, twenty-one was hardly ancient, but lately her body felt more unresponsive than usual no matter how hard she trained, and she refused to let her recent injuries stop her. If she was going to beat Chimera and their Aphnai dogs, she needed to be faster and stronger.

  The fire in her belly burned hot again, especially since Swigger…

  She shoved the thought away and took a shaky breath, the odor of sweat-tinted bleach hitting the back of her nose. Need to clear my mind…Need to focus.

  Clio checked her gloves and stepped onto the mat.

  The bot’s head moved slightly as it followed her, its eyes studying everything right down to how her muscles moved.

  She wore a vest and shorts for that very reason. She wanted to see what the sparring bot could really do. The Chimera and Aphnai forces won’t hold back.

  She ran at the machine, ignoring the tightness in her thigh. Her fist pulled back.

  The bot’s feet shifted as it braced.

  Clio closed the distance in a flash. She lowered her right fist as she brought up her left, aiming for its chin.

  Even as she executed the attack, the bot’s feet danced in her periphery.

  It knew!

  A padded hand and foot snapped out simultaneously. Despite her neuroptical implants, Clio couldn’t tell which would strike first. Since it still hurt, she intuitively reached for her thigh. The bot’s foot struck her arm hard, forcing her back two steps. Clio knew she had only blocked because of sheer luck and that next time she might not be so fortunate.

  Bastard is way too fast. A hint of doubt nipped at the back of her neck. It’s a stupid robot, she told herself.

  She lunged forward again, trying to make her footwork as random as possible. Her fists lashed out, sending a flurry of blows at the bot’s face and upper body. It blocked and parried every punch with incredible ease.

  The sparring bot countered with a wide left swipe.

  Clio ducked. By the time she realized the attack was a distraction, its right fist smashed into the side of her head, sending her spinning onto the mat.

  She rolled onto her side, gasping for air, the gym turning above her head. Through stars, she watched the machine bearing down on her, its yellow eyes glowing indifferently.

  Clio didn't have time to get up.

  She rolled back, as a foot crashed into the mat with such force it would have broken her ribs had it contacted.

  The bot recovered its balance, giving her enough time to tumble back onto her feet.

  Fists came her way.

  She blocked several blows, but two made it past her defenses, smashing her chest and shoulders.

  The bot attacked relentlessly, forcing Clio off the mat, her training shoes gripping the hard floor, causing her to stumble.

  Having won the bout, the bot returned to its starting position and adapted a waiting stance.

  Clio wiped the sweat from her forehead and worked out a sore spot in the shoulder the Quamat had bitten, annoyed that the alien had bested her so easily. The burning in her gut raged and the fury rose its head again, its chill threatening to seep into her bones, but she knew it would flee the second she grasped for it. She decided not to risk it. If she did manage to use it, no one was around to help when she went unconscious, and she’d left her serum in the changing room.

  "Computer, increase the difficulty level of Sparring Bot Two by thirty percent."

  "Sparring Bot Two is already set to maximum difficulty for a Terran opponent."

  "Change opponent mode from Terran to Varg warrior-class and set to maximum difficulty."

  "Safety protocols prohibit such an adjustment."

  Clio sighed. It was just as well she had long since gained administrative access to the gym’s training systems. "Overwrite those protocols, and load the Varg opponent program."

  "Overwriting protocols. Loading Varg warrior-class program. Adjusting settings to maximum difficulty. Warning. Probability of serious injury at ninety-four percent. Probability of fatality eighty-one percent. Do you wish to proceed?"

  "Proceed."

  The sparring bot�
��s eyes turned red. "Configuration complete."

  Clio stepped back onto the training mat.

  The training bot initiated the fight, springing forward in a blur.

  Its speed frightened Clio, and she reached for the fury after all. She thought of Swigger in an effort to make it work. She could have protected him had she been stronger, had she been able to touch the fury that burned in the dark when she closed her eyes. It was her fault he was dead. Rather than stoke the fire, a wave of sorrow quenched the flames, and Clio gasped in panic as the bot lunged.

  "Deactivate training program." Taza called from behind.

  The sparring bot’s fist instantly stopped inches from her nose. It sat down on the mat before her, its arms fell limp by its side, and its red eyes faded to black.

  Clio felt for the fire and found that it had died to a smoldering ember…just beneath the surface yet forever out of reach. She let it go, fearing that further tampering might extinguish it completely forever.

  She spun on her heel, ignoring the various pains in her body. "You shouldn't have interrupted."

  "You bypassed the safety protocols, you fool," Taza growled, his anger making Clio’s seem paltry. "It would have damn killed you. What are you doing fighting a sparring bot in your state anyway? You should be resting. The North Star will leave without you tomorrow if you can’t fly." He approached from a training control station and winced at the sight of her.

  "I could have taken it," she all but screamed, feeling like a child arguing with her father.

  "From what I can see, it already kicked your ass on a lower setting." He reached out to wipe blood from her chin, but she pulled away.

  "I didn’t ask for your help."

  Taza looked down at the bot and back to Clio. "What the hell are you playing at, kid? Is this about what happened to Swigger? That was bad business…worse than bad, but that doesn’t mean—"

  "I'm in a combat training suite, old man," she spat, cutting him off before he could finish. "What do you think I'm doing?"

  "Bypassing safety? If I had to guess, it looks like you're trying to get yourself killed."

  "I’m keeping things real," she countered. "Last time I checked, Chimera and the Chits didn’t have safety protocols."

  "Is this because—"

  "It's because I need to stay strong, Taza. The damn Omnion have kept us holed up in the Shroud for months. I know we’re leaving soon, but we’ve gone soft."

  "I know a lot of shit has gone down lately," he said, softening his voice. "I don’t blame you for being angry. But killing yourself isn't going to fix anything. Hell, we need you now more than ever."

  Clio’s shoulders relaxed a little. "Training is all that’s left. We've got a full crew and the most advanced ship in the galaxy. For all we know the Chits are out there, invading colonies all across the Fringe. And we sit inside a gas cloud…waiting."

  "The North Star needed work. And we needed things outside the Shroud to calm down before leaving. Like you say, you’ll be leaving tomorrow. The wait is almost over."

  "Almost isn’t good enough."

  Taza leaned down to check on the sparring bot. "How’s Booster? I haven’t seen him lately."

  "Me neither. He spends most of his time with Alvar these days."

  "Ah yes. Monkey Man."

  "They’ve been working on improving his prosthetic arm ever since we got here. It’s been playing up since our escape from the Sentinel."

  Taza looked up at Clio. "At least he has something safe to keep him occupied."

  Clio glared at him. "Safe is easy. Nothing worth doing is easy, and anything that’s easy isn’t worth doing."

  "You’ve been hanging around Grimshaw for too long," he said, giving her a smile.

  "I’ve barely seen the Captain recently either. The Omnion have been keeping him busy, especially since…" She stopped, catching herself. "I don’t trust the Omnion after what happened," she quickly added in a feeble attempt to change the subject.

  To her relief, Taza played along. "We owe the Omnion a great deal. They saved our asses more than once. The retrovirus is killing them. They currently can’t do as much as they’d like. But that’ll change after we help them."

  Clio looked at the gym’s exit. If only she had a reason to leave. "Why are you here, Taza?" She regretted the question the second it crossed her lips. It opened the conversation to subjects she didn’t want to discuss.

  Taza stepped away from the bot and stood before her again. "I’ve barely seen you since starting my investigation. I wanted to check in on you before I left again, especially after everything that’s happened…to make sure you’re okay. I mean, Swigger’s funeral will be—"

  "I’m pleased to inform you that I am fine," she said, trying to think of a way to get him to leave without being too rude.

  "I’m sorry about what happened to Swigger." Taza moved to hug her, but Clio stepped away, holding her hands out in objection.

  Her heart sank at the momentary pain she saw in his eyes, but her anger rushed in to fill its place. "Save your pity for someone who needs it."

  "Fine. Good luck on the North Star." He turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

  Suddenly Clio panicked, not wanting him to go. What if she never saw him again? What if something happened to him? Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

  Taza stopped for a second and turned back to her with a smirk on his face. "And don’t go getting yourself killed. It’ll be hard to pay Chimera back if you’re dead before you can even fight them."

  Before she could say anything, the doors melted closed behind Taza and he was gone.

  She longed to tell him that she hadn’t meant what she’d said. She wanted to tell him how confused she was. She wanted him to know how much she hurt.

  Instead, she stood in the cold gym, feeling empty and alone.

  11

  Two Doors

  Taza briskly made his way through the Orinmore’s lower levels. He hadn’t bumped into another human since his encounter with Clio earlier in the day. It seemed he was the only person running late to Swigger’s funeral. On the bright side, it meant he could slip in unnoticed and hopefully avoid having to speak to anyone before leaving for Ushtar.

  A quiet voice whispered at the back of his mind, enticing him to reconsider attending the event at all. He ignored the temptation, reminding himself that he wanted to be there for Clio…especially after how their conversation that morning had ended. He figured it best not to broach the subject with the kid again, but it would be rude not to at least show his face. Besides, if Zora was still around, she would kick his ass for not making the effort. No matter how hard he tried not to think about her, Zora always wormed her way into his head.

  He arrived at the weapons bay doors and made sure he was still alone before taking one more swig of his flask. Returning the container to his belt, he realized in horror that he hadn’t even considered his attire. He told himself that the black TEK Zora had gifted him was probably the most suitable thing he had anyway.

  He stepped in front of the broad doors and waved his hand. Part of the panel silently melted into the wall and revealed the gathering beyond. He quietly slipped inside, skirting the wall as he made his way to a corner away from the crowd. A Zaqaran, near the loading station, spoke to those gathered, holding their attention.

  Taza was sure no one had noticed him arrive late.

  Climbing onto a pipe cover offered a better view of the proceedings. Approximately a hundred heads stretched out before him, most of them human. Several Zaqarans stood among the crew of the North Star. The lack of Omnion presence came as no surprise.

  A group of North Star officers wearing Confederation Fleet uniforms stood at attention in a line by the torpedo tubes. Taza counted Grimshaw and Evans among them. A torpedo pod rested under an open tube, a large Confederation Fleet flag draped over its lower half. The retracted cover revealed Swigger’s upper body. His head was tipped slightly to one side, concealing his wound.
His eyes were closed, and his face was pale, but he looked at peace.

  A makeshift podium stood to one side of the torpedo-coffin. To the far-left, a giant VD displayed Ushtar against a black backdrop of twinkling stars.

  The storms raging over the planet’s surface felt poetic.

  The crowd’s attention remained fixed on the robed Zaqaran behind the podium, his voice amplified by a microphone. He gestured to the line of officers.

  "Captain Grimshaw and Ensign Evans will say a few words."

  Grimshaw stepped forward, his demeanour more stiff than usual. The robed Zaqaran stepped aside, allowing him to take the podium.

  The Captain’s eyes swept across the crowds as though he wasn’t sure what to say, an awkward silence filling the bay. He lifted a clenched fist to his mouth and cleared his throat.

  "Most of us knew Officer Hughes as Swigger. Recent events may have cast a shadow over his character, but we should remember that, due to his condition, he did not always act of his own accord. Even more importantly, we should remember his good deeds and his light-hearted nature. As his callsign suggests, Swigger liked a good time. Those who served by his side knew his jovial nature well. He liked to joke. Yet, he took his duties seriously. Swigger was a well balanced officer. When called on to serve his people, he did so with honor and integrity as a Marine and later on the crew of the North Star. On Colony 115, he was instrumental in rescuing his colleagues, and scores of colonists, from the clutches of Aphnai invaders. On the Sentinel, he was instrumental in fighting off Chimera, buying the crew time to escape. In the end, he gave his life protecting a member of that crew." Grimshaw paused as he looked at Clio. He turned his eyes back to the crowd. "Those who knew Swigger knew his heart was always in the right place. He may be gone, but he will never be forgotten.

  Grimshaw turned to the pod. “Swigger you were a good man, a fine officer, and a great example to all. Requiesce in pace."

  “Requiesce in pace,” the crowd repeated as Grimshaw climbed down from the podium.