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

by Killian Carter

  Clio put everything into the thrusters, and they shot for the blackness of space.

  Three destroyers drifted into sight, plugging the hole.

  "Stubborn bastards are hemming us in." Clio pulled up into a particle beam and three torpedoes.

  "Shields at thirty-five and armor dropping below fifty," Eline said, somehow remaining completely calm. "We have a hull breach near engineering. They’re aiming for our engines."

  "Seal it," Grimshaw shouted.

  "Sealing system not responding. Sending a team."

  "They must want the ship intact," Grimshaw said. "Otherwise we’d already be dead."

  "They’ve hemmed us in, sir," Clio cried. "The best I can do is buy us some time."

  "Grab every second you can get."

  The North Star particle canon sliced a chunk out of a destroyer.

  “The new particle beams are working a treat,” O’Donovan shouted above the rumble as they took another hit. "But there are too many of them."

  "Focus all fire on the destroyers blocking the way," Grimshaw said.

  "Shields failing, Captain." Eline sounded a little panicked. "Breach sealed, but two decks are losing integrity. We can’t take much more."

  "Jump-drive ready." The Zaqaran engineer’s voice crackled across all channels.

  "Evans, hit it!"

  "I can’t, sir, we’re too close. I don’t have an opening."

  "Captain," the engineer said. "The Omnion equipped us with a beacon in case we needed help. They informed us to only use it if in dire straits. I can deploy it with your permission."

  "Permission granted. This is as damn dire as it’s gonna get."

  Clio focused on dodging enemy fire. She swung close to another frigate, using it as a shield.

  The Chimera dreadnaught fired on their own ship, tearing it to shreds. Clio backed off as its core went critical, the blinding light buying them a few seconds.

  The data informed Clio that a torpedo-sized device had been deployed from the North Star’s stern. She didn’t have enough head-space to wonder what it was.

  “That thing better do its job before the blast dissipates."

  "It’s not a weapon," the engineer said. "It’s a guidance system."

  "A guidance system for what?" Clio shouted.

  A particle beam, so bright it inverted all color, tore into the Chimera dreadnaught. It moved along the fleet, gliding through four destroyers and cutting a large wedge out of the Tal’Ri dreadnaught above. A second like it rendered a dozen more enemy ships useless, spreading a field of debris into those that remained. A third punched a huge hole through the center of the blockade.

  The Zaqaran engineer screamed with excitement. "The Orinmore’s main guns."

  "They’re clearing a way," Eline said.

  "Evans, can you get us through?"

  "That’s not big enough," Marilda piped up.

  Clio had already run the calculations. Their chances of making it were fifty-fifty. "Of course I can, sir."

  "Do it!" Grimshaw shouted. "And as soon as we arrive at the G-Gate, get us through right away."

  She pulled a lever next to her flight controls.

  Everything on the VD compressed and contracted.

  The bridge popped.

  15

  Kragak Blood

  Artax mumbled a curse as he and Igra watched Doctor Strabb work on the electrical emitter that kept the Kragak’s wound open while his Yalore lab assistant, Gillgo, administered another injection. They had made great strides since he brought the Rivarian scientist on board. They still hadn’t extracted the information they needed from the Kragak, but they were close. Artax could feel it.

  "You said you would have a serum that works in a few days,” Igra said. “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t working."

  "What do you expect?" he growled, gesturing to the chamber. "The serum is untested, and it’s not as if we have an ample supply of willing Kragak test subjects lying around. We can hardly contain the one we already have."

  "Which is why we’ll be disposing of him as soon as we can…We cannot tolerate such a security risk on board the Monolith. This vessel is pivotal in the Primelord’s plan."

  "Well, if his lordship hadn’t gone quiet on us, perhaps we would have a clearer understanding of what needs to be done. Perhaps we can get the information we need from the Kragak. Perhaps not. Either way, so little is known about the species, we’d be fools to waste such an opportunity, especially if we fail to turn the Kragak Traditionalists to our cause. You think this one’s dangerous? Imagine going up against an entire battalion of them without knowing their weaknesses.”

  "All you’ve proven so far is that they have no weakness," Igra hissed. "Which is why we should kill the creature. It’s a huge risk for such a small return."

  He couldn’t help but grit his teeth. "Killing, killing, killing. Is violence your answer to everything? If you had your way, everything living would end up dead."

  She chuckled menacingly and suddenly fell silent. The Shanti commander turned to face him and looked him deep in the eyes. She stepped closer, but Artax held his ground. She stretched out a finger and rested a claw on his chin before slowly tracing a line to his heart. She stopped and poked him hard in the chest. "Perhaps one day…I will have my way."

  What the hell is she talking about now?

  Whatever game she wanted to play, Artax refused to take part. He stepped back out of reach. "There are more ways to solve a problem than lashing out at it."

  She merely looked at him, her large golden eyes glowing, the end of her tail swaying from side to side. The damn woman had a way of getting under his skin. It was difficult not to lash out with his psy abilities. That’d make her think twice about poking him, but the Primelord had forbidden him from using it on fellow Chimera officers on pain of death.

  Igra’s eyes narrowed. "Killing is the only way to ensure that a problem does not return…as that human bitch demonstrated with my brother."

  "So that’s what this is about?"

  "I received word. The North Star fell right into our trap. But they escaped."

  Artax knew better than to ask. "I can’t blame you for your anger, but taking it out on me isn’t going to help."

  "It’s your fault I wasn’t there. I should have led the attack. Instead, they put that fool Admiral Fann in charge of our ships, and had me stay here to oversee you and your pathetic experiments. Were I in charge, I would have taken the North Star as an offering for our Lord, and Evans’ head for my trophy collection. Instead, they escaped, destroying seventeen of our ships in the process. Including one of our dreadnoughts. And that’s without counting the Tal’Ri losses."

  His eyes went wide. "What? How is that even possible?"

  "I’m still waiting for the details. But all that matters is that the slippery bitch got away again despite the odds being heavily in our favor."

  Artax made a point to find out how a single frigate could wreak so much havoc on such an advanced fleet. But seeing how worked up Igra was, he decided to change the subject for the time being. He pointed to Marigoth hanging limply in the magnetic suspicion ring. "Well, Doctor Strabb has found a way to keep the wound open, using a dissonant electrical charge. That’s a giant advancement in its own right. Also, notice how his struggles grow feebler by the minute. It’s only a matter of time before he succumbs."

  Igra glanced at her SIG. "Time is not on your side, Thandrall."

  He checked the medical monitor. The Kragak’s levels were definitely falling, albeit slowly. And, Igra was right. The deadline had crept up faster than expected. By all rights, Marigoth should have been dead, having received ten times the lethal dose. He had become much more placid and hadn’t struggled against his restraints in two days. Every now and then, however, he still smiled at the scientists in defiance.

  Artax turned to Gillgo. "Double the next dose."

  The Yalore lab assistant looked at Artax, the sudden movement jostling his drooping cheek-flaps. "Are
you sure, sir? Perhaps we should consult with Doctor Strabb first. Three might—"

  "Can’t you see the doctor is busy with the electrical emitter? He must constantly adjust the signals. If we distract him, the wound could close." Artax lifted a finger to his temple. "Do you think I’m incapable of making decisions on my own? Do you consider me a fool?"

  "Er…of course, sir. I mean, no sir." Gillgo fumbled with one of the three vials he carried. It slipped from his fingers and smashed on the floor. He looked at Artax with a gulp, and his voice trembled as he gestured to the injection gun he held. "I’ll give the Kragak these two first, sir. Then come back for another."

  He nodded as the white-coated assistant waddled to the suspension ring.

  Artax smiled as the Yalore jabbed the needle into the Kragak’s side. The gash in its armor had almost closed numerous times despite every effort to keep it open. They had used fire, plasma, and acid, among other things. The armor’s resilience and regenerative capabilities were almost beyond belief. Had the Table allowed him more time, perhaps he and Strabb could have found a way to replicate it. Strabb had begged for it, but the Table had ordered them to focus solely on extracting information about the Felltore fleet. The General and other Table leaders seemed unusually distracted by the Kragak Separatists. Objecting against their demands had gotten him nowhere. He rested knowing that the Primelord would deal with the geriatric fools upon his return.

  He recalled the Primelord’s ancient, crystalline regeneration chamber on the upper deck and the unpleasant things he experienced there on his last visit.

  What if the Primelord didn’t come back? Chimera’s plans had gone awry without their Lord’s guidance, and Artax feared that when he did return, it might be too late. Artax found part of him liked the idea of the Primelord remaining absent, though he couldn’t say why. Perhaps he feared the pain of being summoned back into the Primelord’s mind-space, but that was part of the price Artax had paid. He had given up everything to have his abilities strengthened…all so he could have revenge on those who murdered his family.

  And was it worth it?

  He pushed his doubts aside.

  "What’s taking so long?" Igra demanded.

  "You can’t rush science," Doctor Strabb answered in his low monotonous tone, without taking his eyes from the emitter device he’d built from scratch.

  Marigoth growled, and Gillgo dropped the device in fright. Shards of glass and bits of injection gun scattered at the Yalore’s feet.

  Igra narrowed her eyes. "Not the most competent team, are you?”

  It took all Artax had not to lash out with a psy attack.

  He eyed the Kragak.

  Best not to risk it with Marigoth still awake, even if he isn’t entirely conscious.

  "If you want something done, you have to do it yourself." He stormed to the prep counter, glass crunching under his boots, and slammed a double dose of serum into a fresh injection gun before marching to Marigoth. The Kragak snorted and growled weakly. Artax didn’t want to show any sign of fear in front of his team, or Igra for that matter, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t frightened.

  He shoved the needle into the narrow crack with a squelch and pushed the button. The level of the vial dropped as the green fluid transferred into the Kragak.

  He tossed the injection gun to the Yalore, and he just about caught it. Artax checked the medical monitor again, but the levels had barely changed.

  It should have worked instantly.

  A bead of sweat trickled down his lower back under his armor.

  "Why isn’t it working?" Igra said pointedly.

  "Give it a minute."

  "I’ve had more than my share of this nonsense," she said taking a step towards the exit. "I’ve got important business to address. Father will not be pleased with my report. And the Primelord…" She let that one hang in the air, clearly enjoying his discomfort even though he tried not to show it. "Well, who knows what our Lord will think when he wakes again."

  "If you can—"

  "Sir," Doctor Strabb cut in. "The serum is finally working."

  Artax concealed his surprise as he gestured to Marigoth’s closing eyes. "What did I tell you?"

  Igra sighed as she returned and glanced from the medical monitor to the Kragak and back again. "You put it to sleep? I thought you were giving it truth serum. How are you going to get your answers now?"

  Artax kept his eyes on the Kragak. “We adjusted the formula and included an altered sedative. This is all new. Things aren’t always going to work as expected.”

  "Spare me your lecturing, Thandrall. You admit you’ve failed, yes?"

  Not wanting to lose face, he bit the bullet and put on false bravado. "The serum was merely one of several steps. When a subject goes unconscious, we lean on other methods."

  He took a deep breath and steadily walked back to the suspension ring. He pressed the tips of both sets of index and middle fingers to his temples for the first time since psi-commando training. He usually relied on one finger, but using both helped him feel more grounded. Watching Marigoth’s giant chest slowly rising and falling, he suspected he was going to need all the help he could get, and he wasn’t going to get any from Igra.

  Doctor Strabb watched with worry. Psi-delving wasn’t part of the plan, but what else was a psi-commando to do? Artax nodded for Strabb to move aside. Artax was glad the Rivarian had enough sense not to voice his concerns in Igra’s presence.

  He took one more breath and closed his eyes, casting his consciousness beyond the confines of his body, the contents of the room appearing as faint outlines. Vivid light filled the outlines of four people.

  Marigoth normally shone brighter than any being Artax had encountered, but his life-force had dwindled to near-death…or so it seemed. On closer inspection, he confirmed that the Kragak had retreated deep into his subconscious mind, leaving his immense body in a coma-like state.

  Even still, Artax progressed cautiously. One close encounter with Marigoth was enough for him to expect the unexpected, and so he approached the Kragak’s life-embers as a wary child would a stranger. He took several false steps and prodded for traps as he recalled the time the Kragak had almost trapped his mind. If that were to happen, his body would be left in a vegetative state before quickly disintegrating.

  Not that Igra would complain.

  Artax pressed through the thin, white sheath surrounding Marigoth’s mind, tentatively pulling the veil of gauze-light aside with a spectral hand. He proceeded slowly, stretching one arm ahead in case anything should attack. He emerged from the white cloud. To his surprise, the scene beyond was eerily serene…almost too quiet.

  The usual endless sea of nodes stretched out below like an infinite matrix.

  He checked his fear and excitement before gliding closer to one dome that glowed slightly brighter than the others, as dull as they were. He’d made the same journey into hundreds of minds, but never had he known such trepidation…even on his first extraction.

  He closed in on the dome and gently tapped it with his middle finger. The light shifted out of existence laying the dais bare. He reached for the orb resting on the pedestal, all the while looking over his shoulder, expecting the black storm to sneak up on him. His ghostly fingers brushed the ball of light, and he found it was as cold as ice. Being unusually heavy, he lifted the sphere with both hands and scried inside.

  It contained nothing.

  What the hell?

  Artax realized, with abject horror, that the Kragak was closer to death than he or the doctor thought. He’d only been inside a dying mind once before, for such a thing was perilous. If Marigoth truly passed with him still inside, he’d be worse than trapped.

  He set the orb aside and grabbed the frigid dais. He braced himself then drove his sharpened will down the icy shaft, plunging into the faint network below. His consciousness splashed through icy waters, making him catch his breath. He drove deeper still, reaching for what little warmth remained at the mind’s core.
>
  Twisted, icy fingers of dying thoughts brushed his ethereal form as he went. He stole a glance back and found that he had gone deeper than intended; deeper than he’d ever dove into any mind. But there was no going back now.

  The faintest glow of heat massaged his naked phantasmal self, beckoning.

  He broke through the icicles and emerged in a grand chamber. At its core pulsed the heart of the mind, the inner consciousness. It shone bright but not as bright as it should have.

  Artax pressed forward, searching for the sphere’s missing essence, sensing its emptied contents somewhere ahead. He reached the boundary of the dying star and thrust a hand forward.

  It struck a hard barrier, causing him to recoil in pain.

  What the hell? I thought you were dead.

  "No need to worry. Marigoth is far from dead," a whispering voice echoed through the chamber, sending chills down his spine.

  He spun in circles, searching for the source of the voice. "Who’s there?"

  A cold breeze whipped his face before dying down. "Marigoth, is that you?" he ventured, sensing a presence draw near.

  "No…" The chilling hiss passed straight through him.

  Artax spun again, eyes searching. "Where are you?"

  "It is less a question of where and more a question of when," the rasping voice whispered. "But neither is here nor there. You must take what you came for before he wakes."

  "I don’t understand. Who are you?" Artax demanded, looking around for the source of the voice. "What is this?"

  "You don’t have long. Even now he stirs. The failsafes will reactivate."

  Heat surged from the sun.

  "What do you want from me?" Artax cried.

  "The memory you came for. It lies just beyond the light. Take it. Hurry."

  "I can’t. The barrier…" Artax started to panic at the rising heat.

  Lightening cracked through the cavern and something around the core shattered into a million shards of fading light.