Guardian Generations

Home > Other > Guardian Generations > Page 22
Guardian Generations Page 22

by C. Osborne Rapley


  Ilithyia contacted nearby ships and relayed the Empress’s orders. Everything quickly returned to normal and the next few days were spent back in the old routine.

  She had just started her shift on the fourth day when her screen crackled into life. It was one of the Ventensian Governor’s aides.

  “Please inform the Empress we are under heavy attack. Our fleet was overwhelmed within minutes by the sheer weight of the enemy’s numbers. They have punched through our planetary defences and are commencing to bomb our cities.”

  As she spoke there were several dull thuds and dust rained down behind her.

  “We have reports that they are also deploying ground troops. It would seem they are systematically killing everyone, the wounded, children, men the old – everyone, without mercy. The Governor went to try and discuss surrender terms but she has disappeared and we have not heard anything further. We are assuming she has been killed. Tell any ships you can get in touch with to stay away. The Gunards are destroying every ship that comes out of Star Drive without warning.”

  Ilithyia’s heart was in her mouth. “How many of them are there?”

  There were more dull thuds and the picture wavered. The aide shook her head.

  “What did you say?”

  Ilithyia found herself shouting, a part of her knew it was silly as it made no difference to the communications volume. “How many are there?”

  The aide shouted back over the increasing din from the bombardment.

  “There are thousands of them, ships and troops.” The picture wobbled then went dead. Ilithyia swore, rose. And went to seek out the Empress.

  This time the Empress was sitting in her private office reviewing papers when the guard let Ilithyia in. She straightened her uniform and took a deep breath in order to calm her nerves. She walked into the large office and stood in front of the Empress’s desk and waited while she finished dealing with the papers in her hand. After a few moments the Empress looked up.

  “Yes, Ilithyia?”

  “Madam, I regret to have to inform you that Ventensia has been destroyed.”

  The Empress did not move. Ilithyia wondered if she had actually heard what she had said. The Empress suddenly dropped her pen and stood, almost knocking her chair over in the process. “That is impossible!”

  Ilithyia stood back in surprise and gulped.

  “I am sorry, but it is true, Madam.”

  “Right, contact all the planetary fleet commanders – I want a conference with them all in an hour.”

  “Yes, Madam.”

  Ilithyia saluted, turned on her heel and left. She sighed with relief when the guard closed the door behind her. She walked back to the communication centre. Being the officer in charge she detailed a number of staff to contact the planetary fleet commanders while she oversaw the setting up of the equipment in the conference room. There needed to be an active monitor for each fleet commander.

  The hour went quickly; if it were not for the fact that over half of the Sinestrian fleet and commanders were on their way to destroy the League they would not have had the system set up in time.

  The Empress swept into the room with her military advisors just as the last fleet commander came on line. She sat and gazed round at the faces looking down at her. “As you are all no doubt aware, the Gunards have broken out from their nebula. As impossible as it may seem, they have apparently attacked and destroyed Ventensia.” She paused and looked round, almost as if she were expecting a comment or question. The fleet commanders remained silent.

  “There are two outlying planets now between them and our most densely populated area of space, Oriana and Newmantia. We do not know which one will be attacked first. The following system, if they hold their course, will be Halycia.” She paused and took a sip from the water that had been placed next to her.

  “As Oriana and Newmantia are not heavily populated I want everyone to be evacuated out of the cities, take as many supplies as they can carry and disperse into the countryside. The military, other than a force sufficient to maintain the planetary defences, are to be evacuated immediately.

  “I want scouts to go to Ventensia and find out what the situation is there and see if they can gather any information regarding the numbers and strength of the Gunards. I want their forces shadowed. I want to know what they are doing before they do – is that understood?”

  “Yes, Madam.”

  “Admiral Glycian will take command and go over the details with you.”

  “Yes, Madam.”

  “Good, now I want plans to be drawn up to destroy the Gunards when they attack Halycia. The planetary defences are to be strengthened; move equipment from neighbouring systems if necessary.”

  One of the officers coughed.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “Madam, what if they do not attack Halycia next?”

  The Empress frowned. “If they attack Oriana and Newmantia next then they are sure to attack Halycia.” She looked round at the commanders. There was silence. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  The screens went blank. The Empress turned to the Admiral beside her. “Glycian, you know what needs to be done?”

  The Admiral nodded. “Yes, Madam, I will leave for the flagship immediately.”

  “Good.” The Empress turned to Ilithyia sitting impassively to one side. “Ilithyia, please walk with me.”

  Everyone rose as the Empress walked out of the conference room. Ilithyia followed the Empress out.

  They walked in silence for a while, Ilithyia waiting for the Empress to speak first. The Empress walked out into the gardens. The sun was bright and Ilithyia squinted her eyes after the relative gloom of the conference area. She noticed a gardener on the path in front of them; at the same time he looked up, saw them and scuttled off out of the way. After a while they reached a small temple area. Ilithyia smiled to herself; she and James came there often to sit together after a long day and look at the view overlooking rolling hills to the sea sparkling in the distance.

  The Empress stood quietly for a while. Ilithyia stood at a respectful distance off to one side. She wondered about James, what he was doing now and if she would ever see him again.

  The Empress finally spoke. “Ilithyia, I need you to be my eyes and ears, to keep me informed of everything that is going on. All my best officers went with the fleet to destroy the League; those who are left are not first rate. I need to know exactly what is going on – do you understand?”

  “Yes, Madam.” Ilithyia took a deep breath. “Madam?”

  “Yes, what is it, child?”

  “I should be with the fleet commanding my own ship, not here in a communications centre.” She held her breath, half expecting to be torn off a strip for questioning the Empress’s orders.

  The Empress smiled and shook her head. “No, you are much too valuable for that. If your husband were to fail we would have to locate and kidnap another who is capable of interfacing with the old Guardian computers. We were very lucky to find James and get him away without too much trouble. His personality was such that he was able to accept the situation he found himself in. A very rare person indeed.”

  Ilithyia nodded, she was not going to argue with the Empress on that point.

  “The child you are carrying will have the Guardian gene, which will remain strong within your line for many generations. We will then have our own people who will help us destroy the synthetics. So you see now why I need to keep you with me?”

  Ilithyia nodded. “Yes, Madam.”

  “Excellent, now run along and attend to your communication centre.”

  Ilithyia turned and walked back to the centre as she was asked.

  The same thought went round and round in her head. Damn, I’m just some glorified Guardian breeding machine! Being kept on a tight leash. She found herself actually hating the Empress and her schemes and resented the way she had been manipulated. She was also sure in her heart that James would not do as the Empress expected.

  The
next few days passed quickly as orders were relayed from the Empress to Halycia. Then messages started to come through from the scout ships sent to investigate Ventensia. The news was disturbing. The Gunard fleet was indeed huge, at least one thousand five hundred capital ships, outnumbering the remaining Sinestrian fleet at least four to one.

  When Ilithyia informed the Empress of their strength she dismissed it as unimportant. “The planetary defences are as strong as any we have, and the whole planetary system around the Halycian sun is being fortified. They are synthetics anyway, no match for us.”

  Ilithyia shook her head. “Madam, James told me they were not synthetics, but true aliens.”

  The Empress stopped what she was doing and looked straight at Ilithyia. “He is mistaken, there are no aliens in this galaxy – it was explored fully by our original ancestors the Lantians. Why do you think the filthy synthetics were constructed in the first place?”

  Ilithyia knew it was a question that did not require an answer, so she stood impassively while the Empress continued. “The Gunards are synthetics and we will shortly be in the position to finish them once they attack Halycia. Now, I will hear no more of the ridiculous assertion that they are genuine aliens.”

  Ilithyia knew that this time the Empress required a response. She swallowed. “Yes, Madam, you are right of course.”

  She bowed and backed out of the room. After closing the door behind her, Ilithyia breathed a sigh of relief. She nodded to the guard at the door and walked back to the communication centre.

  The days dragged on in the communication centre as the fleet and defences at Halycia were being built up. The scouts reported back that the Gunards seemed to be just consolidating their hold on Ventensia. One by one, contact with resistance groups on the planet was lost.

  It was several weeks before the news that the Gunards were on the move reached the communication centre. The day started normally enough with the usual routine reports. Ilithyia was bored and uncomfortable; she was about to get herself a hot drink when the remaining scouts reported that three quarters of the Gunard fleet had left Ventensia. Ilithyia ensured the Empress and her chiefs of staff were informed they were on the move. The communication with Halycia increased as last-minute orders were issued and the fleet and defensive positions were readied.

  The flight time from Ventensia was six hours, so Ilithyia ordered many of her staff to go and get some rest. There was normally a shift rota, which operated in the communication centre, but the impending battle, if it came, would take more staff than normal so it was best if they were all rested. As expected, the Gunard fleet dropped out of Star Drive around Oriana. They stayed in orbit for a few hours and destroyed the undefended cities before moving on to Newmantia. They did the same at Newmantia – they completely destroyed the cities and towns on the planet. They then moved off again.

  It was a little over seven hours later when the Gunard fleet came out of Star Drive around Halycia. The Sinestrian fleet put up a brave resistance and the planetary defence systems took a substantial toll of the attacking Gunards, but they were overwhelmed by the sheer weight of numbers. The battle lasted less than an hour. Ilithyia and her team watched the events unfold with mounting horror. Ship after ship disappeared from their system as it was destroyed. Several ships tried to surrender but they were destroyed without mercy. The Empress and her staff stood looking down from the balcony above the communication room. As the events unfolded the Empress appeared more and more agitated.

  The last few remaining Sinestrian ships managed to jump away, but the bulk of the remaining Sinestrian fleet had been destroyed; the whole of Sinestrian space was open to the Gunards – they could do as they pleased, totally unchallenged.

  Over the next few weeks, planet after planet fell to the advancing enemy. They left no survivors, wiping out all traces of Sinestrian civilisation as they went. The Empress’s advisors pressed her to recall the main fleet when it arrived at its destination and was contactable. She refused. She insisted that by the time it got back there would be nothing left anyway. Their mission was sacred and nothing must stop it. They were to remove as many of the synthetics as possible. Even if the filthy Gunards succeeded in wiping them out, they would find themselves alone in the galaxy.

  No amount of persuasion would sway her decision. Ilithyia and her staff had no option but to sit and watch as the ancient Sinestrian Empire was destroyed bit by bit. The only relief from the depressing daily news was the arrival of Ilithyia’s daughter. However, even that was tinged with sadness as, the way the Gunards were exterminating all Sinestrians as they moved from planet to planet, her life expectancy was short.

  It was only a matter of weeks before the Gunards reached the heart of the empire. The planetary defences were quickly overwhelmed, most of the planets flattened. The only thing remaining was the Empress’s private island, due to the force field surrounding it. The only option open to the Gunards was to attack on foot. Without the aerial bombardment and support from their vast fleet they would be vulnerable. The Sinestrians guarding the Empress would make them pay dearly for every foot of the island they gained. Defences were strengthened around the palace and the force field generators. The Sinestrians waited for the inevitable Gunard attack.

  Twenty-Three: Rescue

  The battle over, mopping up operations would take several weeks as stragglers from the Cartigian fleet were rounded up and taken back to their home planet. James was sitting in Thera’s lounge when Tristain and her father, Tristan, arrived, transported from their ships by Thera.

  James stood on their arrival. He recognised Tristain immediately, with her piercing blue eyes and pure white hair. She is the sort of woman who would cause all conversation to stop when she walked into a room; he thought to himself. She walked over to James and gave him a hug.

  “I am so pleased to see you, we feared the worst when you were recaptured. We have a lot to talk about as so much has happened since then.” She stopped. “Oh sorry, please forgive me.” She turned to her father. “James, this is my father Tristan. Father this is James.”

  James held out his hand to the tall lean man who stood before him. He would have recognised him even without Tristain’s introduction He was a younger version of James’s grandfather.

  “Pleased to meet you, Uncle Tristan.”

  Tristan took his hand, “I am pleased to meet you, my boy. Now, you have to bring us up-to-date on all that has happened.”

  Just at that moment the door opened and Octavian walked in. Tristain gasped, “Octavian!”

  She rushed over to him. “I thought you were dead, killed on your ship.”

  He smiled at her and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, I am very much alive. Thera pulled me off the ship just in time. I would have made contact earlier, but I was unconscious.”

  He reluctantly looked up, tearing his gaze from Tristain’s face; it was as if he had not realised anyone else was in the room.

  “Hello, Tristan, and –James, I assume.”

  Two weeks later, James sat at the controls of his own ship given him by his Uncle. He felt confident in the power of the small scout ship. The computer system was far more sophisticated than anything he had encountered with the exception of the AI computers.

  His Uncle had promised they would continue transmitting positive success to the Sinestrian high command. James prayed they would not smell a rat and ask for verification. The one advantage was the distance being too great for two-way communication and, to minimise any security risk, messages were sent pre-recorded and ciphered once every two days. The Sinestrians did not possess the more advanced quantum communications systems available to the League

  He checked the function of the Guardian battle armour. It worked smoothly, unfolding from the belt at his telepathic command, the tactical computer interfacing with his mind effortlessly. He smiled to himself when he thought of the primitive systems he had been so excited about on his new fighter aircraft in the RAF. It was almost impossible to believe all that
had happened to him in little under a year.

  One thing that had astonished him was the weapons Thera had supplied with the battle armour. They were based on conventional projectile technology. She - he could not bring himself to think of her as it, explained that they were more effective than the common laser weapons used by most races. They were updated from original designs produced by his uncle.

  They could not be used in space as the projectile would destroy the pressure hull of any vessel it was used in. Laser weapons were used for that. They were most effective for ground-based operations. When used in range of an AI, the weapons could be constantly supplied with ammunition on command from the Guardian. Out of range of an AI, the ammunition supply was limited. However, it was still significant as the same technology used to store a complete armoured battle suit in a small belt around the waist was used for storing the ammunition. The weapons consisted of a minigun and rapid-fire machine pistols. Two hand lasers were available for backup and use in space.

  James sighed; he was tired and his sleep was being disturbed by troubled dreams of Ilithyia. He would always find her somewhere in the Empress’s palace, but she would be just out of reach. He would either not be able to run fast enough to catch her, or she would pass through a door he could not open. The soft laughing of the Empress would always wake him up.

  The ship had been fitted with two stasis pods, which meant he did not have to spend the two-and-a-half month journey pacing the cramped deck of his small vessel. He double-checked the course and the time he wanted to come out of stasis. The computer confirmed everything was in order.

  James, please do not worry, I will wake you should there be anything that requires your attention during the voyage.

 

‹ Prev