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

by Killian Carter

  With more weight behind him, the blade plunged fast until it rested just above her left breast.

  Clio released her grip, and the knife glanced off her breastplate’s kinetic barrier. She struck the guard under the chin, forcing him sideways before he could come at her again. The blaster the Shanti had dropped lay next to her. She retrieved the weapon and flung herself into her assailant again, holding the muzzle to his chin.

  “Where’s the Minister?”

  “Okay, okay,” he pleaded in his annoying nasal tone. “I’ll tell you where she is. Just don’t kill me.”

  “You have three seconds.”

  His long canines shone as he flashed her a smile. The reflection in his visor shifted.

  By the time Clio had worked it out, something had smashed into the back of her helmet, and she fell into the light.

  Clio slowly opened her eyes, the back of her head throbbing with pain. When her senses finally returned, she found herself sitting in a dark and unfamiliar room, tied to a chair with her hands secured behind her back. She could tell little about the place through the head-fog.

  Drugs? Am I still in Sentinel Tower?

  She rotated her head, working out a tight knot in her neck. It eased the pain but did little to clear the haze clouding her mind. Where she was and how long she’d been there, Clio had no idea. She tested her restraints, and they didn’t move. She wasn’t going anywhere, and the best she could do was take stock.

  The intruders had stripped her down to her subarmor. For all Clio knew, they had transported her off the Sentinel days ago while keeping her under sedation.

  What has happened to Straiya? What about Grimshaw and the others? Are they looking for me?

  That they would be searching for her had she not reported back was a small comfort. But she couldn't rely on them finding her. The Sentinel was as big as some planets, and it would be months or years by the time they’d find her. She’d be a corpse by then…a memory…if even that.

  Clio cursed herself for trusting the Shanti and vowed never to make the same mistake again if she ever made it out alive. She should have known better than to let her guard down. She had grown too soft since leaving Morigan, and now she was paying the price.

  A Shanti warrior emerged from the shadows before her with a knife in his hand. His exoframe was a cut above Tower Guard standard issue, and he wore no helmet. Clio realized he was the guard she’d attacked first. She had misjudged the firepower required to put him down—that was another mistake she wouldn’t make again. He moved with a limp, and one corner of her mouth curled in a smile.

  At least I hurt the bastard.

  “You have nothing to smile about, Terran.” His words dripped with acid. “If I had it my way, I’d break your legs as compensation for your actions.”

  “It’ll teach you not to turn your back on a door, especially when you’re expecting someone.”

  He leaned into her face and hissed, his sour breath warm on her cheek. “You’ll learn manners yet.”

  “Manners are overrated.” She spat, and a glob of saliva struck his lips.

  They locked eyes before he stepped back and wiped his face with the back of his arm. “I’ll need the codes to access your base’s mainframe.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “In case you haven’t realized,” he said, lifting the knife to her throat. “You’re already in hell.”

  Clio pushed herself forward and felt the blade sink just beneath her skin’s surface as her eyes dared him to push it further.

  Surprise filled the Shanti’s eyes before he withdrew the bloodied knife and quickly composed himself.

  “You’ll get nothing from me.”

  “You’ve got spirit; I’ll give you that.” He cracked another smile, his pointed canines almost touching his lower lip. “But stronger people have broken under these hands.” He highlighted the point with a wave of his free paw. “Alovon Straiya’s still alive, you know.”

  Clio shifted in her chair. “What have you done to her?”

  “Let’s just say we’ve got everything we need from the Minister.” He licked Clio’s blood off the blade. “But she’s a little less than the woman she used to be.” He chuckled.

  “You sick bastard.”

  “Since she’s no longer of any use to us, we’ll have to dispose of her.” He scratched his chin and stared down at her with his piercing golden eyes. “However, we’ll be more than happy to let her go if you…give us what we want.”

  Clio considered it for a second with gritted teeth. “I already told you, you’ll get nothing from me.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  Something beeped, and Clio heard the low buzz of radio chatter coming from a device in the Shanti’s ear. He lowered his blade, and his demeanor suddenly changed completely. “Confirmed. Releasing the Ensign now.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He remained silent as he disappeared behind her.

  Worry edged its way through the mist, but Clio shoved it aside. She heard a click and felt her restraints release.

  Without a thought, she sprang to her feet and stumbled forward several steps before getting her balance. The dizziness caught her off guard.

  “What the hell are you doing?” The guard sounded less than happy. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  Clio spun on her heel, a ghost-copy of the room spinning with her. “The idea…”

  She ran at the guard, feigned a step to his left, and hammered his hand with the metal fetter still attached to her wrist. She caught the knife as it fell and pressed its point under an armor plate in the inside of his thigh.

  “… is to hurt you.”

  His eyes widened in horror.

  “Where is the Minister?”

  He refused to answer.

  She pressed the blade harder and felt it split the suit’s joint.

  “I’ll start with your leg and make my way up to your balls. If you want children, I’d suggest you tell me where the Minister is.”

  “Ensign Evans!” The familiar high-pitched voice cut through her brain. “Release Commander Brikkon, at once.”

  Clio turned her attention to another Shanti emerging from the darkness with two heavily armed guards. Vibrant purple and gold silks draped her frame, and she had that same dignified—almost-arrogant—expression all Shanti wore. Two tufted ears poked through golden-red hair, and a tail swayed gently behind her.

  The Shanti female dragged a chair with her and sat it down in front of where Clio had been restrained. She whisked stray strands of hair out of her feline eyes as she leaned forward, and her face came into the light.

  Clio couldn’t have been more confused. “First Councilor Talori? Are you behind all this? You’ve been working for Chimera this whole time?”

  “Don’t be foolish, child. Sit down.” The Shanti traitor gestured to the other chair.

  “Where’s Straiya? I’ll kill him if you don’t tell me.”

  “I said, sit down.” Councilor Talori glared at her. “You can obey by choice or force.”

  Both guards by the councilor lifted heavy phase rifles to their shoulders.

  Clio considered her options. The knife clanged as it struck the hard floor and Commander Brikkon drew away into the shadows, seemingly unperturbed.

  Councilor Talori beckoned for Clio to sit again. The situation suddenly felt stranger still.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “I’ll answer your question, but you need calm down. Now sit.”

  Clio reluctantly sat, and as was always the case with Shanti officials, felt like she was being interviewed by royalty.

  “I’m here to inform you that you have passed the test.”

  “The test? But what—”

  “Straiya commanded that your loyalty be tested. I’m pleased to say that you passed, despite my reservations.”

  Clio’s head went light, as though she had been teleported to an alternate reality or a dream. “I don’t…understand.”

  �
��What’s not to understand, child? We set you a test. You took the test. You passed the test. It is simple.”

  “You mean…”

  “Yes. This entire exercise was a setup. Though, you came close to killing the good Commander twice.”

  “But…why?”

  “Must I keep repeating myself?” Talori hissed. “To test your loyalty.”

  Clio’s head continued to spin wildly. “Why would Minister Straiya do that?”

  “That part is up to her to explain. I trust you are calm now?”

  Clio nodded, still distracted. In truth, she was anything but calm.

  “Good. The guards will bring you to your things. You’ll want to report to your team. They’ll eventually wonder where you’ve been.”

  “Eventually? How long was I…” Her words trailed off.

  “You were unconscious for no more than an hour, but the juices extracted from the Pino Berry can be quite potent, so it may feel like you’ve been asleep much longer. Other tasks require my attention. I trust you will cooperate going forward?”

  Something shifted inside Clio. The mist in her head evaporated instantly, replaced by an intense sense of clarity. She fought against the searing heat threatening to explode in her chest.

  Not now! Damn fury…The last thing she needed was to lose control and hurt somebody. Clio closed her eyes and willed her lungs to draw slow deep breaths, just as Zora had taught her. The burning flames gradually subsided.

  Clio opened her eyes to find a guard had moved closer and held his hand out for support. She brushed it away.

  “I’ll cooperate,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “Where’s Minister Straiya?”

  “She’s tying up business in the Open Chamber. She’ll come to see you soon.”

  3

  Another String

  To say the Open Chamber was the last place Grimshaw wanted to be was an understatement of the highest order. He swiped through his serial integration gate as he rested in the public waiting area beyond the chamber doors. He opened a new message on the SIG and tapped out a greeting. Since arriving on the Sentinel, he’d quickly learned that even a high-ranking puppet had to wait his turn. It would be his seventh appearance before the Galactic Council in six revolutions, and the criminal levels of bureaucracy had all but driven him insane. A common man could barely move on the Sentinel for fear of getting tangled in light-years of red tape. For a Confederation Fleet Captain who’d been made an acolyte of the Aegi Order, the situation seemed hopeless. Despite being placed in charge of an entire Aegi office, tasked with the sensitive task of tracking down Chimera, Grimshaw could hardly breathe for all the restrictions.

  He hit send, his shoulders a little lighter after finally catching up on his s-mail backlog. He rolled his head and stretched out the tension in his upper-back. His SIG pinged as three new messages appeared in his inbox, and he ground his teeth. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get ahead on the Sentinel.

  How am I supposed to catch up with Chimera when I can hardly keep up with this schedule? Damn Galactic Council, sticking their noses in at every turn.

  It had all seemed so easy when Grimshaw had first arrived on board the station, but he had stumbled directly into the Galactic Council’s web, and he had yet to find a means of escape.

  Grimshaw noticed an urgent icon next to one of the messages from Admiral Axton and flagged it for later reading. The Admiral of the Confederation’s Third Fleet wanted a slice of Grimshaw, just like everyone else. A nearby news terminal, broadcasting a barely-audible message, caught his attention.

  “Repairs are still underway at G-Gate Alpha,” the reporter announced. “With ship-lanes affected for so long, the Terran home systems are on the brink of economic collapse, adding to the sense of uncertainty across the galaxy. The advanced Tal’ri repair team refuse to comment on progress, but from what our drones have picked up, it could be another revolution before the gate opens again. We have an interview with the leader of the Pro-Human League and an update from one of our reporters on Shantalla where tensions are also running high. But first, a word from our sponsors.”

  Grimshaw sighed. The longer G-Gate Alpha remained closed, the longer the human home systems were cut off from the rest of the galaxy and open to attack by the Krags. The reports claimed that Ambassadors Andallis’s exploding ship had caused much more damage to the gate than first anticipated. That had happened over six earth-months ago. On the bright side, it meant that the Confederation Fleet couldn’t summon him to Central Command before he’d had a chance to free the SS North Star from the clutches of the Galactic Council, though Grimshaw wasn’t too confident in how his plans had panned out on that front so far.

  His attention turned to the many frescoes that lined Sentinel Tower’s walls. One section depicted a group of ancient Rivarian warriors battling something akin to a dragon wrapped around a leafless tree. Grimshaw assumed it was some mythological creature, but after seeing the monstrosities on Colony 115, he wouldn’t have been too surprised if such beasts had once existed.

  Memories of the events on the human colony plagued him daily. He couldn’t help but be horrified by the thought of what might happen if the Chits ever attacked other human planets—even Earth which was currently exposed. Humans alone wouldn’t stand a chance. The Galactic Alliance would need to get involved, and the only way that would happen was if he could persuade the Galactic Council to flex their arms. That would require that he first track down Chimera as he’d been tasked, but despite their tireless efforts his team hadn’t made the progress he’d hoped for.

  Someone ahead cleared their throat, and Grimshaw suddenly realized an attendant was trying to get his attention.

  “Ah, yes.” He waved, walking to the doors, shoulders back and chin up.

  “Captain Grimshaw of the Terran Star Confederation Fleet and the Aegi Order, requesting an audience with the laudable Galactic Council,” the Rivarian administrator at the chamber door announced. “Please present yourself.”

  “Captain Grimshaw present,” he said as he approached the giant doorway.

  The Rivarian flicked her gray, shoulder-length tentacles, showing her frustration with having to repeat herself. Standing almost seven feet tall, she towered over Grimshaw and, despite her aquatic-reptilian features, appeared regal in her elaborate tower livery.

  Grimshaw offered his SIG, and she scanned it with her own.

  “Identity confirmed,” the administrator said as though she hadn’t admitted him to the Open Chamber several times before. “You may enter.”

  “You have my thanks,” he muttered the expected formal response.

  “See the administrator at the desk when you return for your weapons.” She stepped aside and operated her SIG.

  The two heavily armed Tower Guard officers—one Shanti and one human—parted in tandem with the chamber doors. Light from the waiting area spilled into the dim hallways beyond where two rows of Tower Guard lined the walls. Grimshaw passed along the corridor, keeping his eyes directly ahead, and stopped before the second set of security doors. By design, they remained locked until the first set had closed.

  At least they take their security seriously.

  As the vestibule doors crunched closed behind him, the second barrier parted, revealing the Open Chamber pit. Grimshaw drew a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. He made his way to the raised platform in the pit’s center. Powerful beams lit the low platform from various angles, distinguishing it from the rest of the chamber. It gave the occupant the impression that they stood under trial. Tiers, from which politicians could examine their quarry, rose in circles around the pit, forming an upside down, stepped cone.

  Even with more than half the seats vacant, close to a hundred councilors and other politicians attended the session. As far as he understood it, the Chamber was rarely more than half-full. Straiya had informed Grimshaw that he drew something of a crowd in the Open Chamber sessions. He had never been able to figure out why, but he suspected that the Sentinel
politicians regarded him as something of a curiosity.

  On a seven-seated platform several feet above the pit, four Ministers evaluated him.

  Ministers Straiya and Foster sat to one side. Minister Farmorai of the Rivarians and a holoform representing Minister Zakahr sat to the other side. Rarely did the Tal’ri attend matters in person, so that was no surprise, but Grimshaw was disappointed to see High Minister Orren absent. She had fallen ill and hadn’t been seen at Council meetings for weeks.

  All ministers had never been present for one of Grimshaw’s appearances, and the empty seats served as a barrier between the two opposing sides. Or perhaps it was another part of their game. Grimshaw wasn’t sure. He looked up, trying to maintain a solemn expression under their lofty glares.

  “I hope you’ve got good news for us on Chimera, Captain,” Minister Foster demanded.

  “Not yet, Minister.” Grimshaw tried not to sound too annoyed. He was the one there to do the drilling. “We’re still working on it.”

  Minister Foster rubbed his hand through his rich, black hair. “Then why are you here?”

  “With all due respect, you know why I’m here, Minister.”

  “You’ve stood before the Galactic Council several times, Captain. You know the procedure. Announce the reason for your visit. For the archives.”

  Silence filled the hollow space and pressed in around Grimshaw as though trying to suffocate him. The Council’s frustration was almost as palpable as his, and it wasn’t just because they were nearing the end of another long day.

  Grimshaw drew a deep breath to still his irritation. “I’m here to petition the Galactic Council for an update on the investigation into the events of Colony 115.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.

  The Rivarian Minister cackled. “You mean that illegal operation you Terrans and Shanti were running on the Fringe?”