The Guardians of Sol Read online

  “Understood, sir. But what can I do for you?”

  “I lost one of my men last night. I’m surprised I didn’t lose more with the shitty armor we had, but that still means I have a position open and more combat coming up very soon. I’ve already talked with your captain, and if you want, you’re in my squad. What do you say?”

  I honestly think that surprised him. “A spot in the Specials? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Sweet,” he grinned. “Hell yeah I’m in.”

  “Good, get your things together, talk with whoever you need to talk to. Drop your stuff off at the Thundermaker barracks in half an hour, then report to Ruiz in block three. He knows you’re coming. Bring the control crystal from your armor, it’ll speed things up. See you in a few hours, Private.”

  *****

  When I walked into the engineering bay with the rest of my squad, the mood was pretty somber. I had lost yet another squad member. The run of luck endemic to my career seemed to be running out. Ruiz saw us enter, and motioned for us to follow him.

  “Before I forget, there are some things you need to know about your hammers. We couldn’t find a practical way to use Adamantium in them. The EM fields from the shatter tech wrecks it like no other. As hard as we tried we couldn’t think of a way to shield the metal against the weapon’s emissions. Instead, we finagled a shipment of a new alloy called GND from the research institute out at Lagrange 3. Practically, it’s about as strong and durable as Adamantium, and a little harder to make. But it has much higher energy tolerances and it’s magnetically neutral. That last part brought up problems with the retrieval system built into your right gauntlets but we fixed it. I think that’s about everything… If there is anything else then I apologize, the other Specials are gearing up for whatever new offensive you boys are involved in and I’m a bit busier than usual.” He brought us through a blind door and into the alcove where our new implements were awaiting us. “This is where I leave you, boys. Have fun, don’t break anything.”

  Our first glimpse of the armor was Sandsmark prancing around, waiting for one of the technicians in the room to finish making some simple adjustments to his arc spear. The young man was completely oblivious to us; running last minute scans on the armor, so was Rachel.

  I walked up behind her, rested my hands on her hips, leaned in close, and whispered in her ear. “So which one of these is mine?” I asked her.

  She jumped, startled, then smiled up at me. “This one, actually. I’m just finishing up the last tests on it.”

  “How do I get into it?” I asked, befuddled. I couldn’t find any of the normal access switches.

  “It’s a vocal mechanism. The key is Command code: open; it’s keyed to your voice. That command code part is important or it might open if you said the wrong thing during combat.”

  I shrugged, and did as she said. The chest plates of my new armor collapsed to the sides to form a gap large enough for a man my size to climb through. That was cool, and much nicer than the old separation mechanism. I stripped off my outer uniform, leaving just the innermost bodysuit to attend to my modesty. I got into the blue and gold armor.

  Rachel handed my helmet to me, and the chest shifted back into place. Pressure sensors and a layer of ablative gel moved to fill in the gaps between my body and the armor until it fit like a second skin. I put on the helmet, and opened my eyes to a level of detail I had never before seen. The infrared and ultraviolet bands were overlaid with that of the visible spectrum. The sensor suite was so sensitive that I could see the thermal deviations every time Rachel’s heart beat, could almost see her muscles contract and relax as she moved. The suit itself responded as if it were linked directly to my thoughts as I gently touched her face. She smiled, my heart skipped. Despite the serious circumstances surrounding today, how could I not feel happy? I had new armor and a beautiful wondrous woman.

  My men were in their armor as well by now, and I looked them over. Standing at just over two gloriously gleaming meters tall, with visors glowing a bloody red, they were intimidating as hell. Rachel’s expression turned serious.

  “What’s going on, Rhys? Why is everyone suddenly on high alert? The tension is so thick you would have cut it with a laser scalpel just to see your hand.” She questioned me in a whisper.

  “Invaders. I’ll let you know more when I know what I can actually tell you. It’s some really scary and messed up crap though. All of the Specials captains are having a powwow with the Sentinel on the Liberation in a few hours.”

  “I understand, I’ll take care of dinner,” She said. After I visibly started at the last part of that, she added. “Don’t worry, I’ll get take out. Go, go. I don’t want to make you late.”

  I love the woman, but she is not a great cook. Or even a middling one. I’m pretty sure she’s given up on trying to make anything other than desserts for me. Oddly enough, she is a decent baker. Considering how amazing she is in just about every other aspect, that one weakness didn’t even affect the equation.

  I stood up, went back into the main area, and looked directly at Chief Ruiz, getting his attention. “Sir, we thank you for your work. We’ll be taking it off of your hands now.”

  “You’re welcome. Be a shield to your friends, and a flaming sword to your enemies. And be gentle on the hardware,” he said, quoting a rarely used Guardian creed. Adding in his own personal touch, of course.

  *****

  The shuttle to the Aegis-class destroyer Liberation was short and quiet. A crewman in the docking bay directed Christoph and I to a cargo bay, where we first encountered the Bloodmoon and Bloodwolf captains. They both sported sharp, shoulder-mounted shields, and the only way to tell them apart was their color schemes. Bloodmoon was grey and bright red, and Bloodwolf was dark red and brown. Even their unit patches were inverses of each other. Rounding a corner made up of crates, I came visor to visor with the Dragonflame’s Captain. With a red and gold dragon motif, plasma flamethrowers on both arms, he looked a bit scarier than any of the other Specials I had seen so far.

  He ruined the effect with a huge belly laugh, embracing me and slapping my back hard enough that, had we not been wearing power armor, it would have cracked ribs. “Welcome to the Specials Battalion, Thundermaker! It’s about time we got some new blood!”

  “Thanks for the welcome, sir.” I wheezed. He laughed again, and in a booming voice started regaling us with tales from Dragonflame’s latest assignments. If you excused a bit of exaggeration on the captain’s part, he was a fantastic storyteller. Unfortunately, he was cut short by someone loudly clearing their throat.

  “Thank you, Ramses,” The interrupting individual said. “You can finish your story later.”

  Everyone turned to see the Sentinel standing next to the fully armored Shadowstealer captain, and a fairly nondescript Venator. “Have a seat, Captains. I’ve been updated on the situation, but I still want your take. There isn’t much to do at the moment, but I have sent out the call to several ships, and the rest of the Specials. In three days a fleet under my command will seek these invaders out and gather information, if we’re lucky, we’ll destroy them or wound them.” I was surprised that he would volunteer such information. Of course, how was I supposed to know that he was a bit freer around his Specials? He nodded in my direction. “Castle, I’m glad you finally got your new armor. I’m told you were part of the assault on the enemy ship last night. What’s your opinion, son?”

  I took a moment to think. “Their armor tech is roughly equal to ours, and seems to share several engineering similarities beyond the norm. It also has a few weak points that were eliminated by our fifth generation of armor. The characters in their written language bears a resemblance to both English and Russian alphabets, though neither I nor any of the men with me could make heads or tails of words or syntax. We did manage to get a small data dump from a terminal that’s already being analyzed. They are very proficient in melee, though they seemed to have little defense against arc spears,
leading me to believe they have never encountered anything like it before. Which just seems odd since the Spartans were using arc spears for the last half century.

  “Based off of what we observed, their religion, if it can be called that, and possibly their society seems to be very brutal. According to what Vadasz’s preliminary debriefing, the invaders are called ‘Centurions’ and make use of his people as cannon fodder and attack hounds. If you don’t mind me waxing a tad poetic, these Centurions are like evil versions of Guardians.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Vadasz?”

  “The wolfman we picked up on the ship. He wants to help us if we’ll help him liberate his people.”

  “I’ll make sure that I talk to him when I get a chance,” He looked around. “Jake, Frank. Report.”

  The fourth and fifth squad captains looked at each other, and said something like: six down, four to go. The High Sentinel corrected them by saying three, indicating the Venator next to him. Which made no sense to me, but then, I didn’t know their assignments. Captain Ramses gave his report next, and he made it a riveting tale of intrigue in the jungles of Brazil and battles against the Corporation Security Forces. The High Sentinel looked a little impatient during the story, but he surprised me with a smile and a laugh when it was over.

  “Thank you, Gentlemen. I’ve assigned a liaison for the battalion, Colonel O’Neal, and he’ll distribute your orders to you in a day or two. In the mean time, I’m giving all of you two days of vacation, use it well. If you have any issues you want to discuss, I’m here for the next half hour or so, but if not, feel free to leave. See you in three days.”

  As fast as that the meeting was over. I wasn’t even sure why he had called us together, but then, it wasn’t my place to question my superiors. The Sentinel was conversing with all of the captains but Ramses and me. The big man just shrugged and made his way through the cargo bay doors and back to the shuttles. I couldn’t think of anything I had to have addressed, and followed suit.

  The ride back was short and quiet. Everyone was uneasy, though if asked, not one of us could have designated the source. I would have said that things weren’t adding up, but I’ve never been cerebral enough of a person to have recognized that. When I got back, I gave my men the rest of the day off after we lodged our armor in the barracks.

  Ruiz had sent a technician over with our uniforms, with a note about us saving face with the populace. I guess it doesn’t do much for the reputation when you walk around in skintight jumpsuits.

  “Enjoy your free time, dregs. I’m off.” I told them, though Haywire had already left with Voodoo and Filch. A few minutes later, and three levels up, I was enjoying a quick sonic shower that blasted off all the sweat and grime. In a way, it was a lot like getting a massage. Fatigue caught up with me, turning the device off, I didn’t even make it past the couch. Rachel found me there a few hours later, waking me with a soft nudge and delicious food. I do believe that I am falling in love with that girl.

  15

  June 25, 2289. Corinth, Greece.

  In the Twenty-first century, the massive use of nuclear weapons set off earthquakes along the fault lines throughout the world. In the United States, before it fell, a great portion of California slid off into the ocean to create a new island chain. East of there, the quakes saw mountains tumble, and even further East, the Mississippi flooded. These events were not uncommon across the globe, and closer to home, to Greece, new mountains rose. After World War Four ended the European Union struggled to rebuild. The new mountains cut Greece off from easy access to the rest of the Union, so the Union built three highways through the canyons, and the mountains themselves before internal pressures forced that institution to fall apart as well.

  *****

  The little redhead squealed in delight as she flew up in the air, and the powerful arms of her father caught her. Telamon himself was enjoying the activity more than almost anything else he had done in the past few years. After he caught her again he squeezed her tight and kissed her cheeks, making the three year old squeal and squirm all the more.

  He saw Delilah watching from the balcony of their villa. He grinned; she waved, and went back to work. She managed the family company he had inherited from his father. She had turned it into one of the most profitable businesses in all of Greece. Telamon, naturally, had no idea what ‘his’ company even did anymore.

  The housekeeper walked out from the kitchen entrance with a note and handed it to Telamon. He read it, an odd look on his face. He put his daughter down so she could play with her toys again and bid the housekeeper stay to watch her.

  With quick strides just short of a jog, he made his way to his office and opened the com system. Leon, King of Greece, appeared before him. They were about the same age, but where Telamon was slim and still mostly dark-haired; Leon was huge with sloped shoulders and silver, receding hair. Leon looked even grimmer than usual, and that was saying something about the man.

  “Telamon! You’re still alive, good,” Greeted the Monarch.

  “And still a thorn in your side, eh? I’m on leave for a few months, what’s this about?”

  “Blunt as usual. I know about your leave, but recent events make it necessary for me to order you to a strategy meeting in three days.”

  “What recent events? And why am I involved? I’m just Michael’s Captain of the Guard,” Telamon growled.

  The other man sighed, “Our border guard in Thessaly was attacked. And this wasn’t just the usual skirmishes either. A good portion of the men there were injured, thank the high heavens none seriously. Satellite images show massive troops movements all throughout Europe. I already talked with the Sentinel, he told me to get you onboard and tap your experience if I really needed it.”

  “Yeah? And how does he know I’m not going to refuse you? It’s not like we’re exactly friends. Plus, you have plenty of generals on your staff. If battles come then I’ll be there, but I see no need to be on your retinue,” Telamon groused.

  “First, my generals are all much younger than either of us, without our experience or wisdom. And second, you moron, your son is one of the wounded at that base. I would have thought you’d like the chance to pay the enemy back.”

  For the first time, Telamon let drop his gruff exterior, showing his concern. “Hektor was wounded? How bad is it?”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be back to fighting in a day or two, or so I’m told. Alright, I’m sure you want to be with your family. Top of the Acropolis in Athens, three days from now. I’ll see you there.” And as simple as that the Greek king cut the transmission, leaving Telamon slightly off-balance. He swore; better talk to Delilah about this, he thought.

  *****

  Later that evening, Telamon sat at the head of the dinner table, listening to his son-in-law describe the difficulties of teaching Greek youth philosophy, which was funny, since some of the most famed philosophers were Greeks. He was having a hard time keeping a smile off of his face as he ripped into his mutton. Mutton wasn’t his favorite way to have lamb, but the cook had a way of seasoning it that made it almost irresistible.

  “I think the main problem is that these boys are raised too much on the legends of Heracles and Achilles, and not enough about men like Hector and Odysseus. They need to focus more on men of thought and action rather than just action,” Eric pointed a finger accusingly at Telamon, “and you and your exploits are hardly helping my cause.”

  Telamon swallowed his meat and glanced at the man. “What did I ever do?” He continued his glance at Delilah, his oldest daughter Faye, and the twins Rhea and Lila. They all just shrugged at him in turn.

  “You, old man, have risen to fame and glory with the tales of your brute force actions. They give the youth the idea that they don’t need to learn how to think and strategize, that they can just power through whatever situation they find themselves in and to hell with the consequences.”

  “Is it my fault that most battles I’ve been in call for straight-forward tactics? Not
a lot of other ways to use a Spartan force anyway. Besides, I use tactics. Haven’t you seen that vid from my duel back in Japan? I did well for an old guy back there.”

  Eric sighed, “Alright, so that part isn’t really your fault. But it’s still grating that I’m supposed to teach the boys at the Agoge to think and they refuse to. But on the other hand… I couldn’t be luckier than to have Faye and the kids to come home to – Neo! Stop throwing food at your brother! – much better than being on the front lines. You seem… on edge, old man.”

  “We’ll discuss the reason for that after dinner. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the meal.” Telamon sighed, “Stop hitting Neo, Sweetie.” He directed to his little redheaded daughter. One of the servants began bringing out dessert. He licked his lips, he loved being home.

  *****

  Shutting the doors to his office, he gestured for Eric to sit. “King Leon has ‘commanded’ me to attend his strategy meeting in three days. You look at things differently than me or most of the people around here, so I’m bringing you with me.”

  “I can’t say I’m not flattered, old man, but it’s not that easy to find a substitute for philosophy classes at the Agoge these days. I do have responsibilities to attend to,” the younger man replied.

  “Too bad for you I already spoke to the school’s headmaster and got you off for a few weeks, eh?” Telamon smiled, “It’ll be good for you to meet the brass anyway. You can’t be a teacher… forever…” He stood up, alarmed.

  Eric stood up as well, and followed his father-in-law’s gaze. A patch of shadow detached itself from the other shadows behind him. Telamon followed his first instinct and threw a powerful punch at it – and went tumbling over his desk as the shadow reacted. Eric easily deflected the blow that the shadow sent his way and hit the assailant with an open palm to the chest.

  The shadowy form staggered before taking up a fighting stance. Eric grinned, a fight it would be then. Even though the figure was blurry, hard to keep track of, he dodged or deflected every blow while returning his own. His hands already felt sore from striking the man’s armor. He slammed a kick into his foe’s legs, toppling him, but before he could bat an eye the shadowy figure was back on his feet, albeit favoring his left leg.