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

by Killian Carter

  "Shit," he hissed, afraid to upset the silver-eyed monster.

  Countless clicks resonated and dozens of the creatures crawled nearer.

  He imagined all those mandibles snapping at his body, tearing him apart as they consumed him alive. Then again, he’d heard that some arachnids injected their prey with venom that slowly turned them to gloop, ready for ingestion.

  Either was a horrible way to go.

  "I fucking hate spiders."

  He watched the bodies swinging on the ends of threads, and prayed that the creatures would at least kill him first. He imagined being trapped inside a stringy coffin as digestive juices slowly dissolved the tougher parts the spiders couldn’t slurp.

  The light flicked back and forth again, revealing a figure in the doorway. The swarming spiders backed off as the figure approached. Taza couldn’t make out details with the light’s glare and spider’s eyes in his face. Unlike the others, the silver-green creature didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the newcomer.

  A rock in the figure’s outstretched hand glowed, revealing Ria’s sharp Chan features. The stone shone with multilayered iridescence and radiated a soothing heat. Parts of the surrounding web glowed as if in answer, lighting up the chamber. The spiders huddled in the shadows. Whether they were comforted by the beating stone or frightened, Taza couldn’t tell.

  The green spider stared at him unblinking.

  To be on the safe side, Taza lowered his croaky voice. "What the hell is going on here, Ria? I thought you were dead."

  She held her SIG close to the fresh web the spider on his chest had woven around his leg. She frowned and nodded at the spider. "Crinkles has been looking after your leg. She’s cleared out most of the infection, but it needs more time.”

  "What do you mean more time?” he all but screeched. The creatures in the shadows made rattling noises in answer. He lowered his voice again. "How long have I been here?"

  "We fell into the catacombs two days ago. A patch of acid shrooms broke my fall. You weren’t so fortunate. A rock cracked your TEK plating wide open and snapped your leg. The bone stabbed through your flesh, and you lost a lot of blood. We don’t have the best medical facilities in the catacombs, so we brought you here."

  As far as Taza could remember they hadn’t fallen. Ria had pushed him into the hole. But he had too many other questions. "What do you mean by we? Who are you working with? What the hell is this place? What are those spiders, and why are they afraid of that stone in your hand?" His voice gradually got louder again. He couldn’t help himself.

  "Calm down," she hissed, casting wary eyes into the darkness. "They don’t like loud noises. You're in good hands. Thanks to Crinkles your leg has almost healed. Another day or two and you’ll be back to normal."

  The spider cocked her head, her many eyes studying him indifferently.

  He suddenly recalled why she had tackled him into the vertical shaft. "What of Eldi and the others?"

  "You need to conserve your energy until you’ve healed. Crinkles, he’s awake too soon. Put him back to sleep."

  "What? Wait, no!" He struggled against the web to no avail.

  Crinkles swiftly leaned in and nipped his shoulder. It didn’t hurt, but he felt something warm flowing into his arm.

  His heart beat fast, and sweat trickled into his eyes.

  "You can’t do this…" His tongue felt like it was growing inside his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose.

  "Relax," Ria said, tapping his good leg.

  "Erax?" He shouted, the jumbled word echoing until it grew into a cacophony like a giant symbol had been struck inside his ear.

  The chamber warped and swam.

  Another figure appeared alongside Ria.

  Taza squinted, trying to make sense of the blurred image.

  The new figure was a Quamat!

  "You…kill." He barely managed the words, his tongue like a boulder between his teeth.

  "What did I tell you about waiting outside?" Ria chastized.

  "I heard a scream and came in to make sure you were okay," the scaled alien hissed.

  "Of course I’m okay."

  "Kill…er" Taza muttered.

  That got the Quamat’s attention. “Yes, you pathetic Terran. I’m a killer."

  Taza tried to shout, but his lips were numb and his mouth refused to move.

  The Quamat pointed a scaled finger. "What’s with all the noise?"

  "Nothing to worry about. He woke up too soon. Crinkles just bit him. He’ll be back to sleep any second now."

  "He’d better keep it down or he’ll lead them right to us."

  "Nonsense," Ria snapped. "They’d never hear us this far down. And even if they did, they would never find their way through the tunnels."

  "I don’t know why you’re keeping him alive. Stupid Terran will be the end of us."

  "An order’s an order," Ria spat. "Shouldn’t you be guarding the entrance? Go tell the others we’ll need another two days. Maybe three."

  Boot-falls echoed as the Quamat trudged back to the entrance, muttering curses.

  Ria looked at Taza wide-eyed and gently stroked his face.

  "Hush now." The room spun more violently, and her soft words grew to a discordant howl in his head. "Everything’s going to be okay. Zora will make sure the Aknar look after you."

  The light shifted, and Ria vanished into the dark.

  The beam flicked back and forth, leaving countless other beams in its wake.

  His eyelids grew heavy, but he forced them to remain open.

  Crinkles appeared before him again, her many eyes multiplying a thousand-fold as they spun about the room. Countless reflections of his ashen face stared back at him. His lips moved slightly, mouthing a word over and over.

  Zora.

  25

  The Shaman and The Ring

  Clio, Booster, and O’Donovon rested around the base of the ancient pillar, much to Oryon’s displeasure, but they had been ordered to remain in Aldrark’s Hall and had nowhere else to rest.

  She watched the hustle and bustle of the market, thinking how strange it was that the giants should engage in something so civilized. The few writings she’d read usually painted them as jungle-dwelling barbaric beasts, but she realized now how foolish it was to believe such prejudiced stories.

  She noticed a lull in the crowd back the way they had come in. A sudden quietness set in as low whispers replaced booming Krag voices.

  They climbed to their feet and clustered together as the crowds parted to make way for a white-robed figure—short and lean for a Krag—walking with the support of a long wooden pole. He was stooped low, his tough skin creased with age, giving him the appearance of stone. Had he been standing next to the pillar, he could easily have been mistaken for part of the statue.

  All eyes moved to the pillar and Clio realized the hunched Krag was heading for them.

  "Shaman Ishmarg," Oryon whispered as though he feared being heard. "He is strange. But he has many followers."

  Clio looked up to the Giant who had his eyes locked on the incoming Shaman. "I thought all the important people were at the arena."

  "Like all Shaman, he was invited. As I said…he is strange."

  The last of them made way for the old Krag. Catching sight of the away team, he marched straight up to Clio. She was about to ask how she could help him when his hand snapped out, taking her by the chin.

  She stood her ground, refusing to show fear. To her surprise, his pitted hands felt soft on her face as he kneeled down for a closer look, squinting through old eyes.

  "Yes," he mumbled to himself. "This is the one we’ve been waiting for."

  "Excuse me?" she croaked.

  "Your name is Clio Evans, correct?" he asked, his voice resounding strong and clear and demanding utmost respect.

  She considered responding with something sarcastic. "Yes," she said instead, sounding feeble despite her best efforts.

  He nodded ever so slightly. "Good. We must go to Do
lgoth’s Cave. Now. Come."

  He spoke with such command that Clio looked to the others. He mumbled into his robes, like something inside them was listening. Clio heard him mention fury and the hairs on her arms stood on end.

  "What did you say?" she asked.

  "Come," he demanded, gesturing to the left of the market. "Dolgoth’s Cave awaits."

  Clio hesitated.

  "When a Shaman orders," Oryon said, "we do not question."

  Ishmarg mumbled inaudibly into his robes again.

  Not wanting to cause trouble after all they did to get there, Clio decided to accompany the crazy old Krag. If he had something to say about fury, she wanted to hear it. "I’ll go."

  He looked at her with piercing eyes that said she had no choice.

  "We’ll come too," O’Donovan said, stepping forward.

  Booster drew up beside him.

  "No," Ishmarg boomed. "Only one who has been chosen may enter Dolgoth’s Cave. It is sacred."

  Clio looked to her companions. "You guys should wait here in case Grimshaw comes out looking for us. I can take care of myself."

  Booster didn’t look too sure. "You shouldn’t go alone. It’s not safe."

  "You are guests of Kragak hospitality," Oryon said, clearly nervous by their discussion. "You will be safe."

  "See," she said to Booster, feeling anything but reassured. "I’ll hurry back."

  Booster grumbled and cursed as he sat down by the pillar again.

  O’Donovan shrugged. "We’ll be waiting here for you when you get back. Call on the vox if you need anything."

  "We must go," the Shaman pressed.

  “I’m coming," Clio said.

  She swore she heard him say something about her father.

  She fell into step next to the old Krag, who stood no more than a head and a half above her, as they wound through the parted crowd. "Did you say something about my father?"

  "This way," he groaned as he turned into a narrow passage between two stalls. "The cave."

  "Do you know anything about the fury gene?"

  "We must hurry," he sped up, and Clio struggled to keep pace without jogging. "More walking."

  Clio couldn’t work out whether he was ignoring her or just deaf. She followed, hoping for answers when they reached the cave he kept harping on about.

  They travelled in silence for a while through passages broad and fairly well lit. They descended a steep corridor, and the tunnels grew rougher and narrower. Damp and rot added to the stale musk of the Foundry.

  The further they went, the more the light crystals dimmed.

  "Where are you taking me?’

  "Dolgoth’s Cave awaits. We will be there soon."

  "We’ve been walking for ages. Care to tell me why you’re taking me there?"

  "Your Alinipuck friend. You have known each other for long?" The Shaman sounded different all of a sudden, as though he spoke to Clio as a long-lost friend.

  "Alinipuck? You mean Booster?"

  "The tiny creature in the suit, yes."

  "We’ve known each other long enough. Been through plenty of scrapes and hard knocks together. Why do you ask?"

  "The Alinipucks are a most ancient species. They came in many shapes and sizes. There are not so many as there once were. It is said that they helped the old masters, the Ancients, touch the Void."

  "The Void?"

  "The realm from which you draw power. I believe Terrans name it fury."

  Her ears pricked even as questions filled her head. "How do you know about fury? Where is this Void? What has Booster got to do with anything?"

  Shaman Ishmarg continued in silence.

  Clio stopped. "I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. Where are you taking me? Answer me."

  The Kragak turned on her, his tiny black eyes alive with fire. Clio wished she had her rifle in her hands. He bore down on her, teeth gritted.

  He stopped and cocked his head before running his eyes over her. "I did not think such a thing possible, but you are a great deal more stubborn than your father."

  Clio’s heart jumped. "What are you talking about? How could you possibly have known my father? What…How…"

  "Answers you will find in Dolgoth’s Cave. We must not delay."

  Without another word, he set off again, disappearing into the shadows at the bottom of the decline. Clio’s head reeled as she hurried after him. So many questions spilled forth they jammed her mouth shut. She began to sweat. The Krag claimed that Dolgoth’s Cave held answers, but Clio didn’t know if she wanted them.

  Clio kept pace with the Shaman. The passage had grown dark and bare, and they hadn’t met anyone else in quite some time. She checked her SIG to see how much time had passed. She didn’t expect to be taken so far from the pillar. She did her best not to worry about Grimshaw and the others. "How much further?"

  "Not much," the Shaman grumbled without turning.

  "You said that ten micro-clicks back."

  "I did not think it possible for anyone to be more impatient than Kragak offspring.” The Shaman looked at her sidewise. "I was wrong."

  "I hear it is uncommon for Kragak to give birth." She figured talking would take her mind off the others.

  Ishmarg nodded. "Many centuries ago, Kragak females bore more than ten offspring in a lifetime. Now, an entire colony is lucky to experience ten births in one year. When we found the rebirth chambers, we could build new bodies for ourselves. We no longer needed to procreate, and our ability to carry children diminished over time. At the end of our war with your people, the Hadarr, your Captain, destroyed most of our rebirth chambers when he spread the final death. Now, when our bodies perish, rebirth is not guaranteed. Without birth or rebirth, our people will perish before long. The Circle of Shaman know this. Yet, the Line of Elders act like nothing has changed, throwing lives away in the arena like they are worthless. However, the Hadarr might be able to help."

  "How so?"

  "That, we do not know for certain. On Gorthore, he infiltrated a prime temple and entered a master rebirth chamber. Through it, he unleashed the final death. It destroyed most of the rebirthing network and corrupted much of the medical technology left behind by the old masters. We believe an original, uncorrupted copy of those systems imprinted itself on the Hadarr’s mind. With access to such information, we might be able to reverse some changes to our reproductive capabilities and start birthing children naturally once again. But this is conjecture. When our gods tell us what needs to be done, we do it without asking questions. Sometimes they deem us deserving of an explanation. Other times, they do not. This time is one of the latter."

  The talk of gods did not inspire Evans. It seemed that no matter how advanced the species of the Milky Way became, they could never entirely shake the ridiculous belief of some creator or other. "I didn’t realize the Kragak believed in god."

  Ishmarg chuckled. "It is no mere belief. Unlike other species, our gods commune with us from time to time."

  Clio looked at the Shaman skeptically. "You mean they speak to you in visions."

  "It depends. Sometimes, they appear in a single Shaman’s dreams and offer a vision. Other times, they reach through the crystals and appear before the entire Circle. That is rare and might only happen once in a century. We take such an appearance very seriously. When the gods appeared during a Circle meeting several years ago and demanded that the Hadarr be brought to the Foundry, we wasted no time sending warriors out to search for him. Eventually, they made contact with Agent Lamnon."

  It occurred to Clio that everything that had happened, from Taza being entrusted with the key to Grimshaw’s command of the North Star, may have somehow taken place by design so that they may one day reach the Foundry. "You knew Grimshaw would come even years ago?"

  The Shaman nodded. "We knew because the gods told us."

  "Are there many gods?"

  "The gods are many, yet they are one."

  "And only a Shaman may speak with them?"<
br />
  "Mostly they appear to the Shaman of the Circle, but they have been known to appear to others." Shaman Ishmarg gave her a look that said she was asking the right questions.

  "You’re taking me to see these so-called gods, aren’t you?"

  "The gods have asked to speak to you."

  Clio wasn’t sure how she felt about the prospect. "Why me?"

  "That, we do not know. The gods know when it is best to reveal or conceal. However, they have been more secretive since the discordance began."

  "The discordance?"

  "A great wave sweeps across the stars unseen and unheard. We call it the tether, for it connects our reality with that of the gods. It is a wave that can only be felt by the most holy and by those few the gods choose. However, another wave appeared in recent years disrupting the tether, causing great discord and unsettling the way of things. This, we named the discordance. It is why we see so many troubling things. I believe the gods might also be worried. They have not yet revealed the cause of the discordance, but some in the Circle believe that it heralds something great and evil."

  "What kind of evil could worry gods?"

  "We can’t be sure, but we have old fragmented records that allude to terrible things. I do not have time to recount such stories, but I will prepare a file before you return to your ship."

  "I would appreciate that." Shaman Ishmarg’s helpfulness surprised Clio considering the pain and suffering humans had inflicted on his people. "You must truly hate us humans."

  The Shaman laughed. "Since the war ended, most of my people respect your people. You proved yourselves worthy warriors. Many of us consider your Captain the Hadarr. Some colonies have built temples and great statues in his honor."

  "Really?"

  "We Kragak believe our enemies serve to strengthen us. Powerful enemies are to be praised and lauded, even above family and friends. The Kragak measure one’s value by how many enemies one kills. No single Kragak has killed so many as the Hadarr. And he didn’t just kill countless Kragak. He burned many to the root. Yes, he is a hero to many, and even a god to some."