Star Guild Episodes 1 - 9 (Star Guild Saga)

by Brandon Ellis

  Shan, though, withheld his confusion and watched the ground as he walked, deep in thought.

  Zim commanded the elevator door and gestured with his hand, inviting the men to step inside with him. Zim said, “Ground level.” The elevator began to move, smoothly slipping into high speed. The clear ebb glass windows encasing the compartment allowed Zim and the men to view the topography of the surrounding area. A massive rock facing stood in front of them, bordered by sloping red rock hills and boulders. At the bottom, large dome buildings and palace like structures littered the ground, looking like small figurines from their height as they were descending. A gigantic lake was off in the distance with a few islands in the middle of it. Each island had structures on it, reaching high into the sky.

  It was then that Zim noticed that Shan was pondering about something, so he put his arm around his shoulders in a friendly manner. Surely his charm would cheer him up. “What seems to be your worry, Shan Ru?”

  “I wonder, are you lying to the human race?” Shan looked concerned, as if it was a foreign concept to him and one difficult to fathom.

  Zim paused, then took a deep breath, acting as if the policy was almost as foreign to him as it was to Shan. “It's what we must do in order to keep our planet Iburun alive. We do so out of the love we hold for our race.”

  The elevator gently shuddered as it slowed and jostled gently when it touched the ground. The door opened and Zim escorted his companions to the steps of a large white palace with mammoth columns supporting the roof of the palace's entryway.

  Shan rested his hand on Zim's back. It was warm and conveyed a sense of calm to Zim that he wasn't used to feeling. “Iburun will survive without us. It is we, not Iburun, that need saving. Please bear that in mind, Zim, for the sake of another race.”

  Zim nodded and smiled brightly. “I'm just doing my job. If you have an issue, you know who to take it up with.” He gestured to the doors.

  Shan nodded. “That's why we're here. It should be our race that sweats, digs, and provides for our own people, not a slave race.”

  Zim stepped ahead to open the palace doors, but stopped and looked at Shan with his two companions standing next to their 9 foot mentor. “I thought you were here as an adviser to your two friends here, no?” Zim's eyes became firm and unyielding. “I thought they were auditioning for the next Prime Director's position.”

  Shan gave him a studied look, but didn't reply, while his companions remained silent. They had not spoken a word since Zim had met them and he half wondered if they were mutes.

  Zim cocked his head, his breathing shallow as anger abruptly rose from his gut. “Is Lien-L keeping me as the Prime Director for the next human cycle?”

  Shan, detecting Zim's frustration, raised his hand into the air. “My friend, don't worry. You are not going to be the next Prime Director. There will be no more Prime Directors. I am here to stop the cycle, and to end it forever.”

  Zim crossed his arms, widening his stance while standing boldly in front of them. “Then you may not enter.”

  The doors opened abruptly. Zim jumped and turned when a voice said, “Let them enter, Zim.” It was Lien-L waiting for them, all 9 foot 3 inches of him, blond and blue eyed—the mainstay combination of his race.

  Zim moved out of the way while Shan dipped his head in greeting, politely thanking Zim for moving aside.

  “Zim, come join us,” said Lien-L.

  But, entering the palace wasn't something that Zim had done much during his life. He was a puppet, treated well and given many luxuries for his service as the Prime Director, but his ranking wasn't high enough to enter the palaces of royalty. He was small compared to the rest of his race, as were all Prime Directors.

  Lien-L lead them to a large office and sat down behind a desk, asking for his guests, including Zim, to take a seat. Strangely, there were four seats available, one for each of them. Lien-L had this meeting already planned, but why?

  Lien-L folded his arms across his chest and stared at Shan. “Speak.”

  “I'm here on behalf of Ki-En—”

  “Hah!” Lien-L slapped his desk. “Yes, Ki-En, my dear brother. He will kill his race to save the universe, just so these damned humans can have some...” he touched his heart with folded hands, mocking a friendly gesture, “...freedom.”

  Shan stood up. “I will be heard or we shall leave.” He waved his hand at his companions. “You interrupt me again, and you'll have a lot more than disgruntled slaves on your hands. Your father grows impatient with you and your little project here.”

  Lien-L placed his hands palm down on the desk. “I apologize.” He spoke in a calm voice, waiting for Shan to sit back down. When he did, Lien-L spoke. “If my father wishes to keep the Kingship of Iburun, then he will allow me to continue this operation. The Nankuani will not stand to see their way of life decline. Here on Lumus, we mine and create what is needed for Iburun's atmosphere, and without us you'd all be dead. Tell him not to forget that. Tell all Nankuani not to forget that.”

  Shan said with a hefty breath, “There are other ways.”

  “Like what? Amuse me, Shan.”

  He gestured to his companions. “These two with me are scientists, half human, half us. They have created an easier way to mine and manufacture mono-atomic gold, so you won't need humans anymore.”

  Zim straightened in his seat. Half human, half Nankuani? This was the first he had ever heard of such a thing. Was he half human, as well? If so, why wasn't he told? He looked at Shan's companions. They were his size, there was no mistaking that, and it would make sense as to why there were so few of his size among his race.

  Lien-L waved his hand in the air as he leaned back in his chair. “Look. We've tried using Nankuani—our race—many times before and what were the results? War, mutiny, and—”

  An alarm sounded, interrupting Lien-L in mid-sentence, but then it died down in seconds, prompting Lien-L to simply call his assistant to see what was happening. The assistant ran into the office and dropped a sheet of paper in front of Lien-L, who quickly scanned it. Lien-L glanced up at Shan and his companions. “Leave now. I will send you a transport back to your ship. Give my brother, Ki-En, my best.”

  Bowing, they exited the room and headed toward the main lobby of the palace. Lien-L stood up and shut the door, then walked back to his desk to sit down hard in his chair. He crumpled up the paper and threw it at Zim.

  Zim caught the paper in his hands, baffled by Lien-L's sudden reaction.

  “A war is going on inside of Matrona and you're here sitting on your ass?” blurted Lien-L.

  Zim furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

  “The Tiranis and Brigantia Guard have commandeered the biosphere. Your Matrona Guard don't have a handle on it, nor do you.”

  Zim immediately stood up. “What? Impossible!”

  “Sit down!” yelled Lien-L.

  Zim sat shaking his head, wondering how that could have happened.

  “I gave you one order, and one order only, then I would do the rest. You were to kill Admiral Byrd while he was on vacation—that was it! I had everything else set up and I was leading the attack.”

  Zim was at a loss for words. All he could do was open his mouth, but nothing came out. He had given the admiral a two week vacation, and on the first day Zim had had the admiral's lemonade spiked with a deadly poison, but Byrd didn't die. The admiral was either given the wrong lemonade or he didn't drink it. He wasn't supposed to be alive, and yet he was. He wasn't supposed to lead Star Guild to safety, and more importantly, he wasn't supposed to call the Knights Templar.

  Lien-L closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself. “Why hasn't Plan B been implemented? Why are they still alive? We need to start the next cycle and you're slowing things up, Zim.”

  Zim looked down. “The attack destroyed a majority of the filtration system, in addition to the hydro system. It’s all being fixed as we speak. The other issue we’re having, due to the now faulty systems, is that the mind dumb
ing chemical pack we’ve been using for the last 800 year cycle isn’t flowing. The people are starting to wake up and seeing through the illusion.”

  “How much longer will it take to repair, Zim?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Speed it up.”

  Zim bowed his head, pressing the palm of his hand over his heart. “Yes, at your command.”

  “My command was to destroy Starbase Matrona and Star Guild, not to bring the Knights Templar down on us! You have failed, Zim. Make it up to me or your head will roll from the chopping block, understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shanraing,” called Lien-L, staring at the door until an eight foot woman walked into the room. “This is my BioTech. Her IQ doubles most of our own. You're to bring her with you to speed up the process.”

  Zim nodded, stood up and exited the room, followed by Shanraing. If he could get these humans dead before the two week time table expired, then being Prime Director will have been worth all of the stress. And it was just a damned good thing that Byrd was already on his way to the death chamber.

  On his way to the elevator, Zim made a passing remark to Shanraing. “We should just blow up the starbase from the inside.”

  Shanraing grunted. “We've already attempted such. Each weapons transport to the starbase has been intercepted and destroyed.”

  Shocked, Zim demanded, “By who?”

  “The Knights Templar.”

  Shanraing's lips sneered over a toothy smile. “By the way,” she added, “that Admiral Byrd of yours…”

  “Yeah?”

  “He didn’t die today.”

  “What?!”

  Episode 6

  “S”

  Chief Petty Officer Crystal McCoy was in Tech Quarters examining Mech blueprints on an HDC. Most of the designs had been created hundreds of years before she was born. During the last two days, it seemed like she'd gone over them a thousand times with little sleep, percussion blasts, and explosions rocking Starship Sirona. After awhile, like most things, it had begun to feel normal to her, as familiar as the pounding of Mech legs hitting the dirt and jostling her cockpit.

  Crystal looked over at Hank, a Techie sitting at his desk. He was slurping some type of beverage as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the HDC screen in front of him. Bored by what he was viewing, he released an obnoxious belch and slapped his huge belly, sending ripples throughout the gelatinous mass that he contentedly massaged.

  “What percentage are the shields?” asked Crystal.

  Without bothering to look, Hank let the straw drop out of his mouth. “What?”

  Annoyed, Crystal repeated, “Percentage of shields?”

  “Oh. 42% and shrinking.” Hank shrugged. “It ain't no thing but a bird's wing.”

  Crystal didn't know if the crude Techie thought his continuous stream of comments was attractive, or if it was some Techie joke being played on her. Regardless, she chose to ignore the failed witticism by asking, “How long can this ship take the pounding?”

  As if unworthy of his concern, Hank set his drink on top of his HDC, folded his arms and turned his head to gaze into Crystal's eyes. A disdainful smile crept across his face as he replied, “I'm surprised our shields are still holding, to tell you the truth. Most of our cannons are undamaged, which is baffling.” He leaned way back in his chair, dipping dangerously, but it looked as though he already knew its exact tipping point.

  Then, for the first time since Crystal had met him, Hank’s face became sincere. “It's almost like they're toying with us, using their lackeys to train against us. I mean, we're not that good with our cannon fire, and if I were them I'd target our cannons one by one, leaving us defenseless.” Unfolding his crossed arms, he pivoted his chair around to better face her, with his gut hanging lower than his chair. He positioned his elbows on his knees, rested his chin on his hands and winked at her. “You know, we may not have long.” He flicked his head toward the bathroom. “Why don't you and I just head in there and...you know?”

  You've GOT to be kidding...! Frigidly ignoring him, Crystal returned her attention to what she was doing. “Next blueprint.” The HDC made a soft clicking sound, pulling up another schematic indicating a little over a hundred different Mechs that had been designed in the past, with designed being the key word. Only a few of the Mech specs had ever been built and the current design being used was the Mech S101 series. The last Mechs, decommissioned over a hundred years ago, were labeled Mech S100.

  She clicked back and forth between the Mech S101 and the first blueprint that had caught her eye a few hours ago, the Mech S12—a design built in the earlier days of Star Guild. Both the S101 and S12 were almost identical, although the Mech S12 was 4 feet in diameter larger, and bigger than the ones currently being used. But, it wasn't anywhere near the height of the enemy Mechs she had seen on the battlefield a few days ago, which were all over 20 feet tall.

  She wiped a sweaty palm on her pant leg, feeling anxious about getting so very close to the truth that continued to elude her. Whoever had created the Mechs of Star Guild had used the same design for the enemy Mechs, but how and why?

  “Author of Mech S101's design,” she told the HDC.

  “Gasruhni Nikne,” blinked on the screen.

  Then oddly, she smelled grease and onions and felt heavy breathing on her neck, coupled with the odor of sweat. She sniffed and raised her head to look around for the source of the offending odors, but bumped into Hank leaning over her shoulder. “Hank!” She swatted away the repulsive Techie. “Get away from me!”

  Hank stepped away and shouted back, “Crystal! Why so serious?” Then he wheeled his chair over to hers wearing a smirk on his face. “Sorry about that. You're so beautiful, I just can't help myself. I had to see what those gorgeous eyes of yours were viewing on your HDC.”

  Crystal turned back to her screen, ignoring his latest attempt and pointed at the blueprint in front of her. “Who is Gasruhni Nikne?” She said it slowly, unable to properly pronounce the name. “How do you say that? It’s such a strange name, it almost doesn’t seem real.”

  Hank leaned over, moving as close as he could to Crystal. “Um...” he thought for a moment, then shrugged. “You got me.” Then he tilted closer to her HDC. “He's obviously the guy who designed those walking tin cans used at the ebb quarries.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  The Techie leaned back, turning his head to yell at another Techie at another station. “Sleuth!”

  A voice echoed back to them. “What?! Leave me alone!”

  “Get over here! We need you! Crystal needs you...and I need her!” He laughed, but stopped when he saw Crystal’s face.

  “No!” replied Sleuth. “I'm operating cannons on the starboard side—I'm a little busy here!”

  “She wants to know who Gasruhni Nikne is...however you say that name.”

  Sleuth immediately stopped firing the cannons, his face expressionless. “Why?”

  “Come over here!” demanded Hank.

  Sleuth, small and skinny and wearing unnecessarily large wire framed glasses, stepped away from his HDC and strutted over to Hank and Crystal until he stood in front of them. He placed his hands on his hips, staring at Crystal, obviously annoyed that the likes of her would bother the likes of him. “You want to know about Nikne?”

  She nodded a yes, thinking that he reminded her of a mad professor.

  He asked, “Where did you find that name?”

  Crystal pointed at her HDC. “I just asked and it gave me the author of our current Mech design.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I figured.” He wagged his index finger. “Don't be too quick with that name.”

  Crystal stared at him, baffled. Then, referring back to the HDC, she said, “It's a name that anyone can find. See? It's right there.” She pointed to Gasruhni Nikne's name blinking next to the Mech Series S101 blueprint.

  With a nervous twitch, Sleuth moved closer, then looked around to make sure that no one was within ear shot bef
ore he said, “Yes, but nobody looks, do you understand?”

  Crystal shook her head no; irritated by Sleuth trying to create intrigue. From her perspective, the majority of Techies were social disasters, much like Hank, but this tiny little man was annoying her much sooner than usual.

  “Do you know him or not?” she asked.

  Sleuth gave her a blank stare, then moved his gaze to Hank, who stiffened. Without a word, Sleuth turned and walked back to his station.

  In exasperation, Crystal threw her arms into the air. “What was that all about?!”

  Hank smiled. “He uncovered some things about that Nikne guy a couple of weeks ago. He thinks that discovering it and digging around for more information caused the attack.”

  “How would that cause an attack?”

  Mimicking a gesture of surrender, Hank lifted both hands up in the air. “Who knows. Sleuth's turned weird ever since he started digging for the truth about the Nikne guy. ”

  In Crystal's mind, since most Techies were already strange to begin with, Sleuth was just following the gradual flow that Techies did in the world of weirdness, so she nodded, knowing she’d have to follow the same Techie flow to get some answers. “That's what I need to do. Dig some more.”

  Hank chuckled. “Good luck with that. Sleuth's our best HDC man. He was able to break through the cryptography hiding behind that name and I doubt he'll tell you how.”

  “Is there something I should know?” Crystal stared past Hank's shoulder, watching Sleuth in the far corner of the room. He was moving his hands in front of his HDC, probably operating a cannon. She watched him stop for a moment and yawn, then rub his eyes. The Techies had been on the job nonstop for any number of days now, keeping Starship Sirona safe. Perhaps they weren't so weird after all.

  She moved her eyes back to Hank. “Is there anyone else who can help me break through the cryptography?”

  Hank made a sucking noise through his teeth as he shook his head. “I'm afraid not. Sleuth changed the codes and password, making the schematic software pretty much hack proof. He doesn't want the same thing to happen twice.”