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

by Killian Carter

  Another blinding light flashed, and he found himself in a grassy plain, facing a Kragak warrior holding a long narrow blade the length of Grimshaw.

  Grimshaw held Bradley’s heavy phase rifle. He emptied the battery into the Krag as it charged. He slowed its progress and knocked the sword free, but it kept coming. Seeing it would take too long for the rifle to recharge, he ran at the monster, thrusting forward the rifle bayonet, wishing he still had his helmet.

  The Krag smashed him to the ground, throwing itself on top of him. Its black lips parted, and it growled through serrated teeth, its breath as foul as death. It snapped down on him, and he moved his head aside, but its teeth sank into the side of his neck. Grimshaw thought it was going to pull a chunk out of him, but the Krag suddenly fell limp, its giant body pressing down on him.

  He pushed with everything he had and his TEK’s servos whined. The corpse finally rolled off him, and he crawled away, trying to catch his breath. He ran a quick scan and made sure nothing had been fractured or broken. He struggled to his feet and looked at the Krag, Corporal Bradley’s phase rifle jutting from its chest at an angle. By some stroke of luck, he’d managed to puncture its thick chest plate and both its hearts. Stupid bastard shouldn’t have thrown itself on me.

  He dug the weapon out and started to limp toward the distant trees. A hideous howl rang out from the hills behind, and he picked up the pace as much as he could with his injured leg.

  He broke through the trees and stepped onto the smoky streets of Helios City on Colony 17. He led a squad of seven down a road, looking for any Krags that may have been left behind. The invaders had torched the colony’s three cities and fled with what slaves they could before the Confederation had time to react.

  Grimshaw followed the thick stench of sickly smoke toward the dying embers of a fire in the middle of the city square.

  He examined the remains of the fire and found a pile of bones. The Krags had left in a hurry, but that didn’t stop them from performing their sick rituals first. More often than not, the mindless creatures left burning piles of bones wherever they attacked. Whatever humans were of no use to them: the elderly, the deformed, the young, were often set alight. At least they have the humanity to kill them first. It wasn’t much of a consolation.

  The dying fire crackled, and a fist sized object rolled off the pile of ashes and into Grimshaw’s boot. He looked down, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw it was a skull. He was about to pick it up when someone to his right shouted.

  An elderly man dressed in rags ran at him. Grimshaw held up his hand, gesturing for the wiry old man to stop, but he jumped on Grimshaw, pinning him to the ground with uncanny strength.

  “What the hell, old man? We’re here to help. Get off me!” He tried to break free, but the old man’s grip was steel.

  He looked around for assistance, but his squad had vanished, as had the skull, the fire, and the city. He lay in a black void, the old man pressing down on him like a great weight.

  “Let me go!” He cried out, trying to wiggle free in vain.

  The old man leaned into his ear, his white beard blocking his eyes. “Wake up, Grimshaw.”

  The breath was a cold breeze against the side of his head.

  “I’m not sleeping.” He was finding it difficult to breathe with the old man compressing his chest. “I said get off me.”

  “Open your eyes, Grimshaw.”

  “My eyes are open, you crazy fool. Who the hell are you?”

  “An old friend. Now, wake up, Grimshaw. Whatever happens, you mustn’t let Artax take you.”

  The name seemed familiar, but he couldn’t match it with a face. “What I need is for you to get off. The Confederation doesn’t take too lightly to colonists assaulting Marines.”

  “Your friends are coming for you, but the Thandrall already has you. Wake up!”

  Grimshaw couldn’t have worked out the riddle even if he had a mind to.

  The old man drew back and raised his arms as if to strike. Grimshaw tried to brace himself but found he was paralyzed. The old man’s body morphed into a glass statue, his form hanging above Grimshaw. Something cold dripped on Grimshaw’s face. He tried to wipe it away but still couldn’t move. He looked up at the old man again and saw that he wasn’t made of glass but ice. The ice statue suddenly shattered, and a flood of freezing water splashed down on his face, forcing the breath out of his lungs.

  Grimshaw came to in a haze. Dull bangs rang out around him. The world moved, but he wasn’t sure how. Where are we going? He remembered dreaming of Krags and some old man without a name. Something important had happened in the dream, but when he tried to remember the details, they fled like frightened birds, and slipped through his fingers forever like dust into the wind.

  His senses snapped back, and he suddenly realized he was being dragged across the ground by the ankle. Bullets, plasma, and fire rained around Grimshaw as Artax dragged him out of the chamber and across the corridor.

  The Tower Guard have finally broken through. He tried to struggle free, but even though his awareness had returned, his body remained weak and lifeless; the fury implant had robbed him of all strength.

  At least it didn’t kill me. It occurred to him that he was probably as good as dead anyway.

  A Tower Guard ran at Artax, but the Thandrall gunned him down with his free hand. He dragged Grimshaw through another hole in the wall and they entered a room where one end had fallen away completely, exposing the interior to the outside air. Sentinel City’s skyline cut across the opening like a giant panorama.

  Hot air swept down into the room as a Chimera aircar descended on the gaping hole. Gunfire continued behind as Grimshaw was dragged into the vehicle. Three gray-clad soldiers joined them before shutting the door, and the aircar pulled away.

  Grimshaw tried to move again, but it was no use. He wondered why they hadn’t just killed him. Perhaps they would torture him for information.

  At least the Ministers are safe. Hopefully Clio and Taza made it out okay.

  Fragments of his dream interjected themselves into his thoughts unbidden. There had been Krags and skulls…old memories not quite forgotten. There had also been a strange old man. He didn’t seem to belong in the dream. The old man had said something about not being taken by Artax. The old man’s words struck home like a hammer on an anvil, and a shiver ran down Grimshaw’s spine. Whoever the old man was, he knew that Artax was taking him somewhere, and had warned Grimshaw not to let that happen no matter what.

  Who was he? How did he know?

  Grimshaw drew shallow breaths as the aircar’s engines hummed. Being spent from using the fury-drive, he didn’t exactly have a whole lot of options. However, feeling started to slowly creep back into his extremities. Artax was too distracted on a SIG call to notice he’d regained consciousness.

  “Yes, General Ovious,” the Thandrall said. “I’ve got the Captain right here. We’ll lay low at the safe-house until things calm down, then we’ll take him to Project Zero as planned.”

  “We hit a few bumps along the way,” an unfamiliar voice said on the channel. “However, I believe the Primelord will be pleased.”

  “I’ll update you again as soon as we’ve confirmed we haven’t been followed.”

  “Very well. Ovious out.”

  Artax’s SIG crackled as the channel cut off.

  Go Grimshaw, the old man’s voice whispered inside his head.

  Somehow, Grimshaw suddenly had full command of his body again. He wiggled a finger just to be sure. He didn’t know what exactly he needed to do but lying around wasn’t going to get him anywhere. By the time Chimera reached their destination, it would already be too late to escape, and the old man’s voice was spiked with urgency. He looked about without moving his head. He lay at Artax’s feet and couldn’t see anything but his legs, but the three soldiers were lost in conversation. The cabin was big enough for a dozen passengers, so there was plenty of space to move. However, the cockpit was sealed off by what lo
oked like a security hatch.

  Time to wing it for a change, he thought, though every fiber of his being cried out in objection. He hated to commit to anything without a plan.

  This time he would have to make an exception. Without another thought, he climbed to his knees and glanced around.

  The gray-clad troops were surprised but nowhere near as shocked as Artax.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Grimshaw saw that they flew low over the Izmark River—probably to avoid detection by SenSec scanners. With his TEK on, he decided it was worth the risk. It wasn’t as if Chimera were going to let him live anyway.

  Artax’s arms snapped out to grab him. One of the troops had launched for him at the same time, and they got caught in a tangle. Grimshaw fell back against the aircar door and felt around for the emergency release.

  Artax had untangled himself and was coming after him again. Grimshaw smiled as he pulled the lever. The door cracked open. The howling wind sucked him out into the open air, and he deployed his helmet as he fell toward the glistening water.

  27

  Mission Report

  Artax’s blood was still pumping from the fight when Jason Grimshaw unexpectedly regained consciousness. He was still recovering from the shock of what had just transpired. No one had ever broken free of his dreamscape.

  He watched as Jason hit the water. Despite the Primelord’s warning, he had foolishly underestimated the Terran. On the bright side, he still lived to enjoy the thrill. He hadn’t expected such brutality during their hand-to-hand fight.

  That look in his eyes. He still got tingles thinking about it. No wonder the Primelord is interested in the man.

  “Take us around,” he said on the vox. “Scan for the Terran.”

  “Yes, sir,” the operator said on the vox.

  He glared at Reeshak as the aircab broke into a wide circle over an industrial complex. The Varg sheepishly avoided making eye contact. Artax had to stop himself from killing the soldier. He’d gotten in the way and caused a valuable prisoner to escape. Most of the grunts were expendable, but a lot had been invested in the elite soldiers. He made a point of remembering the Varg. He’d have to figure out some form of punishment later.

  The aircar lowered toward the river. Artax wasn’t certain if it was the same spot where Jason had entered. It all looked the same to him.

  “Anything on the scanners?” he demanded on the vox.

  “Nothing yet, sir. The scanners in these aircars aren’t really designed for picking up life-signatures.”

  “Keep trying,” Artax growled, hanging onto the rails as his eyes roved about the slow-flowing water.

  The Primelord would not be pleased if he returned to the SS Obsidian without Grimshaw. He seemed bent on using him to operate Project Zero. Artax didn’t know what was so important about the ship. Sure, it was a powerful prototype, but Chimera had some of the finest vessels in the galaxy at their disposal. Then again, he didn’t know the reasoning behind many of the Primelord’s decisions, yet events usually panned out just how the mysterious being had promised…almost always. The Primelord had rebuked him for not having enough faith.

  Either way, it was General Ovious’s fault. He should have listened to Artax when he asked for more men for storming Sentinel Tower. The Shanti was insufferable, and always seemed to throw a spanner in his plans. Artax wondered whether the General didn’t want him dead. If so, he almost had his wish today. That was a narrow escape.

  Someone had managed to sneak up on his men and cause a distraction while a small Tower Guard detachment pushed through. Artax caught a glimpse of that man and thought he looked familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to the face. It has been a strange day.

  “Anything?” he said.

  “Nothing yet, sir,” the operator said nervously.

  “He can’t hide under there forever.” That was if he was even still alive. TEK or no TEK, even someone like Grimshaw couldn’t have survived such a fall.

  “Captain, I’m reading three SenSec airships heading our way.”

  Artax swore and punched the ceiling. “He’s probably dead, anyway. Get us out of here. Carry on to the hideout.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He closed the door and watched through the windows as the city sped by. He and his three elites had only just escaped. The others…well, they served their purpose. At one point, Artax had feared that Grimshaw had bested him. His semi-reflection in the aircar window smiled back at him as he recalled the fight. It had been such a long time since he’d known fear, outside of his interactions with the Primelord. However, that wasn’t quite the same. The emotions he felt when in the Primelord presence didn’t seem real; they were intense, yet somehow flimsy and fleeting, only making him feel truly alive for an instant.

  What he’d experienced with Grimshaw, however, was that primal fear a species developed over eons. The fear that his distant ancestors had embraced and conquered when they first crawled up out of Thandrall’s mud.

  He checked his SIG for a mission update and found the device had been busted in the shoot-up back at the Tower.

  He returned to his seat and looked to the three soldiers sitting opposite. “Anyone care to tell me what happened to our forces?”

  They glanced at each other, unsure.

  “Don’t all volunteer at once,” he growled.

  “Most of the units across the city have either been taken out or have retreated,” Higross, the Rivarian said. “It appears that someone tracked down our tech unit in the Data District.”

  “We made every effort to conceal that part of the operation.” Of all the parts they had to fit together, the Data District had been the costliest. In order to keep it secret among Chimera’s ranks and to conceal it during the attack, the team had to be kept small, but vast amounts of resources had been poured into preparation and development for the integration with the Sentinel’s ancient mainframe.

  “We aren’t sure how, sir, but we believe they may have figured out how to read our signal.”

  “Find out who exactly pulled that off so I can hire them,” Artax said sardonically. “We had our best minds work on that. I was led to believe it was fool-proof.”

  Reeshak cleared his throat. “With power, security, and communications coming back up all over place…things started to fall apart from there.”

  “They put up more of a fight than we’d bargained for,” Artax said, feeling unusually pleased with the whole affair. “What of Dullian’s team?”

  “We’re getting reports that they’re dead,” Trill, the Shanti elite, said. His yellow eyes darting from the other elites and back to Artax. “Rumor has it that a Terran female took Terminal Thirteen on her own.”

  “In war, such fantasies tend to spring up at times,” Artax said dismissively. “Dullian was counted among the dead?”

  Trill nodded. “Afraid so, sir.”

  “He was a good fighter, but not much of a leader,” Artax said. “The fool always thought more of himself than was necessary.”

  “General Ovious will not be happy,” Reeshak grumbled.

  “Bah,” Artax said. “I have a sneaking suspicion that the General isn’t half as fond of his son as he pretends. Commander Igra on the other hand…I wouldn’t like to be the person who informs her of her brother’s death. It’s a pity they got Dullian. I kind of liked him. However, my true condolences belong to whoever killed him.”

  He stretched out a knot in his neck and pressed a hand against his swollen face.

  Never mind, he thought. Things may not have panned out as we expected, but we still set the cogs in motion. That was the real reason behind the whole operation.

  Artax absently nodded as Higross reported on losses in other parts of the station. His eyes wandered back to the window. Secretly he hoped that Grimshaw was still alive and that they would one day meet again.

  28

  By Straiya’s Grace

  Taza walked among the fallen Chimera soldiers, scanning for anyone still breathing. He found
a human, in a Chimera TEK, crawling on her stomach, her bloodied legs dragging behind her. He aimed his blaster at the back of her head and pulled the trigger. The woman’s helmet hit the floor and she stopped moving.

  A young Rivarian Tower Guard watched him from a doorway, his face twisted with horror.

  “War’s an ugly business, kid,” Taza muttered.

  The Rivarian flinched and turned into the doorway, making puking noises.

  Someone had to make the floor secure before they could let the Ministers out of the safe-room, and Taza didn’t see anyone else taking the initiative. Having a prisoner to question would have been handy, but Minister safety was priority. That was why Grimshaw had sacrificed himself. The Confederation Captain knew that politicians were a useless bunch, at the best of times, but were also necessary for holding the Galactic Alliance together. Even with the Galactic Council, races and star systems were in a constant state of bickering. Without the Galactic Council, the Alliance would break up and the Galaxy would descend into chaos.

  Finishing off the enemy also acted as an outlet for his anger. He had seen the Thandrall dragging Grimshaw across the corridor and had tried to get to the Captain. But Taza got caught in the press, and by the time he reached the room where Grimshaw had been taken, the Chimera aircar was already a speck in the distance.

  Assad had called it in with SenSec, but Taza wasn’t holding his breath. Sentinel Security had already proven useless when the fight broke out and had only shown up at Sentinel Tower after Clio had brought security back online.

  He knew the she could pull it off. At least that meant she was okay, though it worried him that she wasn’t answering his calls.