Read The Guardians of Sol Online

Authors: Spencer Kettenring

The Guardians of Sol (24 page)

I muttered something as intelligent as "Nuh-uh" as I followed her example.

27

December 24, 2289. Sol System

 

Rachel and I were cuddled comfortably in her parents' den with the rest of her family, hands intertwined, and watching some movie they traditionally watched on Christmas Eve when the screen fuzzed out and crudely animated snowmen and animals were replaced with a scene darkly lit and centered on a man with a cruel face. The man's nose had obviously been broken several times in his life, and several wicked scars ran across his face, barely missing his eyes. The scars were thick enough, and long enough, to make me think that perhaps one of Vadasz's people had done the damage. The man wore a black and red uniform that seemed to be an almost mocking replica of a Guardian's. He was flanked to either side by men in the viciously spiked armor that only Centurion Legionnaires wore. The man stood from up from his seat, and the light in the feed shifted to provide more illumination to his features

"People of the Sol system, our race has long stood as a house divided against itself. In this system as well as others we continually struggle amongst ourselves and weaken the whole. I am here to tell you that this will end soon.

"Know that I am Admiral Kar Granos. I bring you peace, and all I ask in return is your submission. I am here to bring you into the geography of the galactic scene. Your worlds are but a few of those inhabited, and humans are but one of many species. Submit. Find peace. And know that in that peace and submission will be the strength to find our own place within our Galaxy."

The man took a breath and stared intently at the camera. His pale eyes communicated pure intimidation.

"If you refuse to accept my kind offer, then your worlds will burn, your peoples will suffer, and all that you have built will be destroyed such that even history will not remember you. I know that your worlds are not united in leadership or purpose, even now. As a final kindness to you all, I will give you one week to consider my proposal. Your leaders may broadcast their replies on this band from your Saturn installations. We will be listening."

"This is not an offer lightly given. We have seen your strength and your potential. Join it to ours. Already our civilization spans a hundred systems across hundreds of light-years. With you, or without you, the Century Empire will span the galaxy. Whether you are forgotten or a part of the Empire's glory is up to you. Choose wisely."

The scene faded out, and the Cartwright's movie phased back in as if nothing had happened. The siblings with children were comforting them, but even the adults were obviously troubled by what had just happened.

"I guess that means my days of ease are over for the time being," I tried to quip. But it only earned me a sad look from my Rachel. "A frown doesn't suit you at all, love."

She ignored my smile and closed her eyes, visualizing what we had just seen. "They were on a ship. They are either from outside of our solar system or they want us to think that they are," She opened her eyes and looked at me straight on. "Given their statements, the obvious conclusion is that they are the ones who were introducing new technology to nations in order to destabilize the status quo, weakening us and making us more amenable to parlay."

"Then they obviously miscalculated. I've fought some of them hand to hand, so I know, and people more important than me know, that their soldiers aren't any more powerful or effective than mainline Castigars are. Their main tactical ground strength is probably the mutated Farkas, and who knows how many they have left. Not to mention that even with the war in Europe, the Guardian fleets are almost untouched and the Japanese fleet is as powerful as ever. I can't see either the Confederacy or the Empire giving into Granos' ultimatum anytime soon. The question is what the Republics and Zulus are going to do."

"I don't care. I know that Earth will come out just fine, and this might even bring more nations into the Confederacy," Rachel replied quietly. "I just want us to come out of this intact. So that means nothing foolish on the battlefield. You do your part to come home, and I'll make sure your equipment is up to the task. Deal?"

"Deal," I promised, kissing her gently. The kiss, of course, elicited the appropriate "ews" from the now calm children we were distracting from the movie.

28

January 5, 2290. The Forge.

 

I set down the dossiers of the three men in front of me on my desk. The first, the black-bearded madman I'd barely beaten in the boxing tournament stood there with his stupid grin on his face, The second was a fellow a little older than me, a very experienced Vindicator who wanted to try something else, and the third was a knight from the newly inducted Nordic nations who sported a truly magnificent drooping mustache.

"O'Niel seems to think that you three would fit into my squad better than just about anyone else. I know Hektor, so I'm willing to give him a go. I'd be happy to have you too, Rick," I said, addressing the Vindicator. "Thing is, I've already got a damn good lieutenent, and his team is all full up. I need to know if you are willing to follow the orders of a mere sergeant. Honestly, I think your experience could be good for him, and I want to maintain the chain of command as it is."

"Sir, I'll be happy to serve where ever you want me. I knew when I requested a transfer to the Castigars that I probably wouldn't get a post equal to my rank, but when the chance to serve in the Specials came I couldn't pass it up. Pride isn't in my nature; I just want to serve the best that I can where I'm able."

"Good. You're on the third team then. What about you, Sigurd? What brings you to my humble little squad?"

"Since the Nordic states joined the Confederacy, it was decided that their best knights should join high profile squads to promote unity or the like. Honestly, I don't care about the politics. The Specials get the best fights, and I want to get in on them."

"You don't have a death wish, do you?"

"No. Not as anyone would recognize. I am looking for a worthy death, but that does not mean I am afraid to live. You will find that I won't die easy. I have survived direct conflict with the first Specials squad on several occasions. If they didn't kill me, you'll have to find me much better enemies to do so. Mostly I just enjoy a good fight."

"That's an attitude I can appreciate. You’ll probably end up on team three as well. Hektor, you're on my team. So that I can keep an eye on you."

“Why do you need to keep an eye on me?” Hektor asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Remember how you started a barroom brawl with my men last year? Your file is filled with more of the same. I don’t want a repeat of anything even a little like that,” I told him, and addressed all three. “As my men, your actions reflect on me and the squad, and I want the Tenth to have the most sterling of sterling reputations. I think we’ve covered all the bases. Welcome to the family. Now go to the special projects engineering bay to get measured for your new armor, and I’ll see you at the briefing tomorrow morning.”

The men saluted me and left. I collapsed into the chair at my desk and rested my eyes for a moment. Rachel told me that they were doing a massive overhaul on the entire team’s armor, and she wanted to show me the designs while the actual work was finalized. That, of course, would have to wait while I finished filling out paperwork. The Guardian Corps may have been founded on ideals and efficiency, but bureaucracy seems to find its way into any system. Still, the whole thing was managed by making sure there was only the very minimum of desk jobs required. Almost all of the real work was done either by combat officers, or by organizational AIs. I keyed up the remote access for my own AI.

“IRIS, call lieutenant Freed and sergeant Mace to my office,” I told the construct. I’d been contemplating changing its name, but nothing special had come to mind. After a few minutes, which I used to finish filing the new guys’ transfer orders, the door’s chime sounded.

“What did you want us for, boss?” Jimmy asked as my two friends walked in without waiting for me to answer the door.

“Just some squad organization. Have you met the new recruits? Two of them seem like they’ll be a good fit. The third one is Hektor Alkaios.”

“Wait, Hektor is joining the squad? I know that his combat scores are ridiculous, but it seems like a bad idea to work with a guy who enjoys using the captain as a punching bag,” Jimmy replied.

“He’ll behave. And if he doesn’t then I’ll personally drum him out of the squad. And that’s why he’ll be my new partner on team one. As for the other guys, John’s team has the most holes, so simplest solution would be to just put the other two on his team. If we do though, I think that we should pair Gripe with John, or move him to team two so that he’s completely surrounded by familiar faces. Thoughts, John?”

“Gripe’s a good soldier and I would hate to lose him, but I think that moving him to team two would be best. If you pair him with me and give me the two new guys then it wouldn’t give quite the same integration, you know? Besides, losing a sibling, let alone a twin, would mess with anyone’s head. Team two will do him good, and keep him effective. My opinion, best thing to do would be to fit one newbie on each team.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll trade you Stick and Tinder for Gripe and the wannabe Viking,” Jimmy said. “What do you think, Boss?”

“It works for me too. Draft the new roster and post it on the board in the barracks. See you guys in the morning. My fiancée has some tech to show me so I have to go now.”

The great and surprising thing about saying that is that, for once, my friends grinned but didn’t even attempt to tease me. Maybe they were finally starting to grow up.

*****

The display showed what looked like an enhanced human musculature.

“What am I looking at, exactly?” I asked Rachel, smudged by grease and glowing with excitement.

“This is the design schematic for a nanomusculature system. I’ve been working on the design for years but I wasn’t able to perfect it until I had access to the resources here. This is the biggest upgrade we’re giving to your armor. Your squad will actually be the first to use it. Think of yourselves as field testers,” she replied with a smile. “We’ll be outfitting your armor with second generation plasma cores as well. They’re smaller and generate more power, but personally I think the NMS is the more interesting upgrade.”

“It certainly seems like it should be. What exactly does the NMS do that’s so exciting?”

“Well, for one, it should produce at least a one hundred percent increase in strength and speed amplification over traditional hydraulic systems. It’s also capable of limited self-healing and segregated action, which means that if a section is damaged, the other sections will continue to work just as efficiently, and that after a little while that section should resume full functionality. And to put the proverbial cherry on top, the fibers that make up the techno-organic structures were built on the nano-molecular scale so they act exactly like any other bulletproof material. In this case, it protects the system and the wearer against small arms fire. Larger calibers will still cut through it, but that’s what the exoskeletal plating is for.”

“So basically, you’re ushering in the next generation of armor,” I said as I hugged her from behind. “I’m so proud of you. Of course, this does let me know that you’re far too smart for a guy like me. It’s a good thing for me that there’s no correlation between intelligence and wisdom.”

“What are you talking about?” She replied slyly. “I’m only using you for your body. You know that.”

“Alas, I’m foiled again by my good looks and perfect body,” I lamented dramatically.

“You two! Either get out of my engineering bay or get back to work!” chief Ruiz yelled at us from across the room.

“Well, the old man has spoken,” I sighed. “I’ll see you for dinner. Don’t work too hard.”

*****

That evening after dinner, I was sitting on the floor in front of Rachel’s couch playing a video game about vengeful gods. Once it received the world setting data pack, the rudimentary AI in the game console allowed for many adventures beyond those originally programmed and conceived of by the developer. I had heard of games being played for years with a single character on a single play through. It honestly made me feel bad for past gamers who had to be content with a set and finite level of content for each game instead of worlds that actually grew and evolved with each decision. The games and saves didn’t even take up that much storage space since the AI could choose to save only what was important to the game and extrapolate the rest from that.

The background noise in the apartment went down enough for me to actively realize that Rachel had gotten out of the shower. I hadn’t exactly given her time to clean up before dinner, but at least the dumplings and stir-fry had come off without a hitch. A few minutes later, Rachel sat down next to me in her pajamas with her hair still damp.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I was just upgrading our city and switching equipment while you were busy. Ready to join me?”

“Deal me in,” She replied. I hit a few buttons on my control and her set up projected a control system in front of her as well as splitting the display into two distinct views. I think that anyone else would have had to have two consoles or risk having the system crash. My dear Rachel, on the other hand, loves to tinker so much that her system was powerful enough to handle at least two people playing completely separate characters in the same dynamic world. It only took a few seconds for her to log in.

“So what adventure should we embark on tonight, Handsome?” she asked me.

“Well, some of the villagers were complaining about a red dragon terrorizing the town and demanding tribute. I figured we could start off with that.”

“Sweet. Just let me get some fire protection items and we’ll be off. Any idea on how old or how big the dragon is?”

“Judging by the descriptions, I’d have to say at least a mature one. Possibly an ancient colossal. With the treasure from one of those we should have enough gold to turn our town into a full blown city. Maybe even turn it into a nation state, but that might require some new software patches.”

“One step at a time. Personally, I want to see what I can make from dragon parts. I doubt any of it would be as awesome as the items I made from that thunder god though.”

I laughed at that, and she looked at me funny. “You know that funny feeling you get when you realize how insane you would sound to someone who doesn’t know what you’re talking about? I just had some of that. Because obviously the first one anyone is going to think after killing a god is going to be ‘I should make a hilt out of their thighbone.’”

“Are you calling me crazy?”

“I’m calling you cute. Now let’s go get that dragon.”

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