Starship Guardian (The Galactic Wars Book 4)

by Ellis,Tripp

  “So, this is a date?"

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Presley said with a sly smile.

  “It would make an interesting story to tell our grandchildren.”

  “Slow down, stud muffin. You haven’t even gotten to first base yet.”

  “I haven’t really gotten an at bat yet.” He grinned.

  Presley smirked and kept wading through the water.

  She saw a set of rungs along the wall that led up to a grated storm drain at the street. She climbed up and peered through the slats. She tried to get an angle on a street sign or a landmark that would help her identify her position.

  They were at the corner of 23rd and Preston—a block over from Olympic. A chill ran down Presley’s spine. She pushed up the grate and slid it aside. She poked her head up through the opening and scanned the street.

  “What are you doing?” Levi hissed up to her.

  “The last time I spoke with my mom she was a block over. Stay here.” Presley climbed out of the sewer and took cover behind a pile of rubble. She scampered through the ruins to Olympic.

  The area was devastated. A massive crater pocked the center of the intersection. Cars and debris were thrown outward from the epicenter. The corners of the buildings were blasted away.

  Presley’s heart thumped in her throat. Her eyes filled. She didn’t want to know what had happened. She wanted to turn around and run away and pretend she had never seen the destruction.

  But she didn’t run. Running away and pretending wasn’t going to change anything. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for her mom’s car. Twisted cars were strewn about the street, the sidewalks, and some had even been launched into neighboring buildings.

  Her eyes fell upon the familiar silver Lexa 320 coupe. It was upside down, twisted and mangled. It barely resembled the new car her mom had gotten only six months ago.

  Tears were rolling down Presley’s cheeks. She sprinted to the overturned vehicle. Broken glass littered the sidewalk around the hover-car. Presley crouched down and looked through the window. It was the most horrible thing she had ever seen. Her mother’s body was hanging from the safety harness. It was twisted and mangled, and her neck was snapped. Blood had trickled from her mouth and crusted over. Her hazy eyes were fixed, staring at the dash.

  Presley broke down in sobs. She couldn’t breathe. She felt like an elephant was standing on her chest. It seemed like a minute went by before she could inhale. Her throat burned, and she couldn’t make a sound.

  She heard the march of troops, and the rumble of a tank. They were on the next block over.

  Presley’s whole body was numb. But she had to make herself move. She had to stand up and run. She finally pushed up from the ground, and her knees felt like they were going to give out. She staggered into the street and ran back toward the sewer. She climbed down into the hole and pulled the grate back over the top. She descended down the rungs of the ladder and collapsed at the landing, sobbing.

  Levi knelt down beside her, not knowing what to do. “What’s the matter?”

  Presley’s eyes were puffy little slits. Torrents of tears gushed down her cheeks. She threw her arms around Levi and sobbed. He hugged her back, trying to comfort her.

  It was hard to say how long she held onto him crying. But finally, the tears went dry. Presley wiped her face and pulled herself together. She told Levi what had happened.

  “I’m so sorry.” There was nothing that he could do or say that was going to make it any better.

  “How am I going to tell Timmy?” She could barely choke the words out. “He’s going to be devastated.” She was still holding out hope that he was alive. She kept telling herself that now was not the time to mourn. Now was the time to be strong. There would be plenty of time for crying later. And she would certainly do plenty of that.

  Presley climbed back down into the sewer sludge and kept marching along. “We need to keep moving.”

  22

  Revenant

  Malik and Saaja stepped into the 2nd deck mess hall. It was bustling with activity. Hundreds of sailors were chomping away on fabricated meals from the food synthesizers. Hamburgers, pizza, tacos—it was all pretty damn good, too. But Malik wasn’t likely to find any Saarkturian dishes.

  The clatter of forks and knives and chitchat filled the air. All eyes fell on the two aliens as they entered, and the clatter went silent. At 7’5”, pale skin, and black eyes, Malik stood out from the crowd. After a moment, most of the sailors resumed their meals. But a few eyes lingered.

  Malik and Saaja strolled to the food fabricators and scrolled through the menu items. Malik snuck glances at nearby tables to see what others were eating. A cheeseburger looked simple enough. He pressed the button and the machine sprung into action. Proteins, carbohydrates, and fats mixed with flavoring and coloring. The ingredients were mixed and pushed through actuator valves and sprayed out of nozzles. In a matter of moments, a perfectly sumptuous cheeseburger was 3-D printed and heated. It looked, smelled, and tasted just like the real thing.

  Malik took it from the fabricator and waited for Saaja to make her selection. She ordered the same thing. If it turned out to be terrible, at least they would be miserable together. She waited for her hamburger to print, then they strolled across the mess hall and took a seat at a table next to Lu, the Decluvian.

  “Mind if we join you?” Saaja asked.

  “Go right ahead.”

  They all spoke in English. It was easier, and speaking in their native tongue seemed to draw the ire of the crew more easily.

  Lu was sitting all by himself, and was getting the same amount of gawkers as Malik and Saaja. Lu’s protruding eyes were glossy and red. His lids were heavy. He was thoroughly baked on Majuva herb, and had scarfed down several slices of pizza already. Bits of crust littered the table, and his wide mouth was smacking and chomping.

  “I take it the pizza’s good?” Malik asked.

  “I’ve never had the real thing,” Lu mumbled with his mouth full. “But this is pretty damn good. It beats the shit out of insects.”

  Malik and Saaja eyed the burgers with suspicion.

  “Just bite into it,” Lu said. “I’ve had a few of those. You should have gotten some fries with that?”

  “Fries?”

  “Yeah. Fried potatoes sliced into little crispy sticks.”

  “What’s a potato?”

  “Beats the shit out of me, but you dip them in this red sauce.” Lu smiled and made an okay sign with his long slender fingers.

  Malik picked up the burger and held it before his mouth. Saaja’s eyes watched with rapt attention. Malik decided to take the plunge—he bit into the burger. He chewed slowly at first, letting the bite tumble over his tongue. As the succulent flavor hit his taste buds, his eyes glimmered and he chewed faster. He gave a nod of approval to Saaja and took another bite.

  A few tables over, Spaceman Rob Davies glared at the aliens. His face was red and he looked constipated. “This is bullshit. How come they get to eat in here with us. I can’t finish my meal. Makes me sick to my stomach looking at their ugly faces.”

  “Ease up,” another sailor said. “They’re helping us out, or some shit.”

  “I don’t trust them.” Rob scowled and pushed up from the table. He strutted over and puffed up his chest. “Why don’t you take your food and eat somewhere else?”

  “I’m sorry,” Malik said. “I thought this was the general mess. You’ll have to forgive us, we’re not familiar with your protocols and customs. Perhaps you can direct us to the proper area for us to eat?” He was trying to be as cordial as he could.

  “I can direct you to the airlock,” the spaceman said with a snide grin.

  Malik frowned.

  “You all are so fucking ugly, I can’t keep my food down,” Rob said.

  Malik stood up. He towered over the guy.

  Rob swallowed hard, but he was too stupid to back down.

  “Spaceman Davies!” Walker shouted. The veins were bulging
in his neck. He looked pissed.

  Davies snapped to attention.

  “Do you have a problem with my guests?”

  “No, sir,” he stammered.

  “Really? Because I could have sworn I heard you insult them?”

  “Sir, I was merely commenting on—”

  “Save it, Davies,” Walker barked. He looked out over the sea of sailors in the mess. He addressed them all. “Let’s get one thing straight. These individuals saved my life on more than one occasion. They are some of the finest warriors that I’ve ever known. It has been an honor and a privilege to fight alongside them. If anyone has a problem with them, they have a problem with me. Understand?”

  The crowd stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “Understand?” Walker shouted.

  “Yes, sir!” they answered in unison. Nobody wanted a problem with Walker.

  “Carry on,” Walker muttered. He patted Malik on the shoulder and the Saarkturian sat down.

  “Enjoy your meal,” Walker said. “If you have any more problems come to me.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think we’re going to have any more problems,” Malik said with a grin. “But I think it’s probably time we head back to our home world. I need to warn them of Emperor Tyvelon’s plans.”

  Walker pursed his lips. “Well, I hate to see you go, but I understand. I’ll talk to the captain and see if we can spare a shuttle.”

  “I’m never going back,” Lu said. “You are stuck with me. My ass will never get out of prison if I go back.”

  Davies sulked back to his table with his tail between his legs.

  “Way to go, dingleberry,” one of the other sailors said.

  “That guy is a fucking Reaper,” said another sailor, awestruck. “You’re lucky you’re still alive, Davies.”

  “Horseshit,” Davies said. “Those guys aren’t that tough.”

  The other sailors looked stunned. Davies’ words were blasphemous.

  “Stop talking out of your ass, Davies,” Wilkinson said. “It’s starting to stink.” He glowered at Rob. “You have no idea what those guys go through to earn their badge. It ain’t like scrubbing toilets in basic for 13 weeks.”

  “You’re just pissed cause you didn’t get accepted into Biscuit,” Rob said. BSCT was the acronym for Basic Space Combat Training—a grueling 24 week “A” school where prospective Reapers began their journey.

  “Damn right I’m pissed. But I’m going to re-apply. Point is, I can kick your ass all day long, and even I didn’t get in. I wouldn’t fuck with Commander Walker, if I were you.”

  23

  New Earth

  Presley and Levi slogged through the muck for several miles, twisting and turning. The rumble of tanks and heavy equipment filtered through the passageways. Presley could occasionally hear the voices of Decluvian soldiers talking in the streets.

  It was hard to believe that there was an invading force on New Earth. That was something that happened on the outer colonies. But never here. Not even during the first Verge War. It was unprecedented. It all seemed like a bad nightmare.

  Presley veered down another passageway and marched for another mile as the canal meandered. She climbed the rungs up to another grate and peered through. She could see the large Doric columns of the museum. They were broken and fragmented. It was almost all that remained of the structure that once resembled the Greek Parthenon. Now it was nothing but ruins.

  Her heart sank. Her eyes brimmed again. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it burned. She hoped against hope that Timmy was still alive somehow. She couldn’t take another loss.

  She pushed up the grate and peeked around the street. It was empty. The area had been secured, and the enemy forces had moved on. There were probably still patrols moving through the area, but the bulk of the troops were elsewhere.

  Presley slid the grate aside and climbed into the street. Levi followed. They replaced the cover and dashed to a nearby structure, crouching down behind a wall of rubble. Presley glanced around again, then dashed across the street to what remained of the museum.

  She climbed the steps and moved past the columns. Fragments of the entablature that once read Nova York Museum of Fine Art were strewn about. The roof was gone. Some of the walls were still intact. Timeless statues lay shattered on the ground.

  Miraculously, there was a painting still hanging from one of the walls. It was an impressionist work by Ryan Hindle, painted in 2132. The museum had paid 487,000 credits for it at auction in 2362. It was worth twice that today. The painting was one of Presley's favorites. She had often visited the museum for inspiration. Anytime she felt creatively stuck, a trip to the museum would seem to enhance her neural pathways.

  Presley weaved through the debris, moving deeper into the structure.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The last time I talked to Timmy, he was in the basement.”

  Presley twisted through the wreckage, advancing deeper into the building. The slab of the structure seem to be mostly intact. A section of the floor ahead was cratered. The slab had a full thickness crack. Presley dropped to her knees and peered through. She grabbed her flashlight and shined it through the fissure. She could see movement below and heard voices.

  “Timmy! Timmy, can you hear me?” Presley heard somebody below calling for Timmy. A few moments later, Presley saw Timmy's face appear in the beam of her flashlight. Her heart swelled with joy. “Are you okay?”

  “Took you long enough.”

  Presley's eyes narrowed at him. Timmy was still a smart-ass, and that was a good sign. She'd worry about him if he wasn't. “I'm sorry, but if you haven't noticed, we've been invaded by aliens."

  “We’re stuck in here.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Well, are you gonna do something about it?”

  “I’m tempted to leave you in there.” Presley stood up and looked for the entrance to the basement. The stairwell leading down to the basement door was covered in debris. It would take days, and some heavy machinery, to dig them out.

  Levi grabbed Presley and pulled her down, taking cover behind a tattered wall. A platoon of Decluvian soldiers marched by. They crouched out of sight until the platoon passed.

  “Thanks,” Presley said.

  "I wouldn't want you to get killed on our first date.”

  “I still haven't made up my mind if this is a date or not,” Presley quipped.

  “I never said it was. That was your idea.”

  “No it wasn’t,” she protested.

  “Whatever.” He grinned, sure of himself.

  Presley rolled her eyes and stood up. But there was no denying she was a little bit attracted to him. Maybe a lot. The fact that he had stuck around this long was giving him bonus points. Her last boyfriend would've bailed at the first sign of trouble.

  She moved back to the crack in the slab. “Move everybody to the other side of the basement. Take cover. I'm going to get you out of there.”

  Timmy rounded up the other kids and they moved to the far wall. They huddled down behind a desk and some bookshelves.

  “Levi, take cover behind that wall.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Do it!” Presley pulled the pin on a thermal grenade and wedged it into the crack in the slab. She released the handle and ran as fast as she could. She crouched behind the remains of a wall. A few seconds later the device detonated. Dust and debris blasted out. The explosion rattled the structure and echoed throughout the streets. Bits of concrete rained down. Smoke filled the air.

  Presley waited a few moments for the haze to clear. The former fracture was now a hole in the slab, large enough for a person to fit through.

  She rushed to the opening. “Timmy, are you okay?”

  He appeared within moments. “Nice work, butt-face.”

  Presley took a rope from her pack and tied it off around the remains of a pillar. She tossed the rope down the hole, then lowered herself into the basement.

&
nbsp; Levi stayed on the surface and kept watch. It wasn’t long before he saw another squad of Decluvian soldiers marching toward the museum.

  24

  Revenant

  “She’s not even a real captain,” Rob Davies muttered.

  “Hey, I’ve done three deployments with Captain Slade. You want to talk shit about her, don’t do it around me.” Petty Officer 3rd Class Patrick Allison said. He stood up and left the rec room.

  There were a few other sailors in the compartment that had transferred in when Rourke took command of the Scorpion. They had never served with Slade, and they didn’t have any loyalty to her.

  “I’m telling you, she’s got no business in command of the ship,” Davies said in a hushed tone. “And if we don’t do something to get Rourke out of the brig and back in command, we’re aiding and abetting a mutiny.”

  “What are you saying?” Dodson said. “You want to bust him out and assault the CIC?”

  Davies glanced around before he spoke. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s not mutiny if we’re just restoring the natural chain of command. Rourke is right. He is the senior officer in the fleet. He should be commanding this vessel.”

  “I don’t know, man,” another sailor said. “Sounds a little crazy. I mean, we’re at war right now.”

  “That’s exactly why we need somebody capable in command.”

  “Capable?” Dodson said. “ He damn near got us all killed.”

  “At least he’s got balls,” Davies said. “What are we doing? Nothing. Not a damn thing. New Earth is getting decimated. We should be there fighting. This is our last chance. I’ve got no intention of sitting this one out.” He was getting worked up. The veins in his forehead were beginning to bulge.

  “I agree,” said another sailor. “What are we waiting for?”

  “It’s the perfect time,” Davies whispered. “Our so-called captain isn’t even on board right now.”