Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure

by Percival Constantine

  The intruder pull the blade free and the Gunsmith collapsed, eyes fixed in an open position and not a mark on him. Zukov’s eyes went from his fallen agent to the intruder himself.

  He was tall, clad in ebony armor with gold trim and a cape to match. He wore an ornate helmet and with the touch of a switch, the armor retreated from his head, revealing reddish-orange skin, pointed ears, and golden, cat-like eyes. His long, yellow hair was bound into thick locks that spilled down his back.

  This wasn’t the first time Zukov had seen a being like this. The former Russian spy whispered the name of the alien race: “Kotharian.”

  The intruder tilted his head to the side, holding up his weapon, the energy blade pointing at Zukov.

  “You know of our people?” he asked.

  Zukov kept his gun aimed as well, as did Croft. “You’re not the first we’ve had to take down.”

  “Ah, J’Karra. This is why she has failed to report in.” There was a flicker of something resembling a smile on his face. “I am General M’Lak, Supreme Commander of the Kotharian Fleet. You speak for the Earth, human?”

  “Director Abram Zukov, I run this station.”

  “Your people have stolen something from mine. I am here to claim what is ours and to punish you for your transgression. Your ends will come quick, if only you yield.”

  “Like hell,” said Croft.

  “Insolent whelp, you speak out of turn.” M’Lak fixed his gaze on Zukov. “This is how you humans maintain order in the ranks?”

  “She only said what I was thinking,” said Zukov. “You won’t win this, M’Lak. My advice is go back to where you came from.”

  M’Lak grunted. “I think not.”

  “Take him down!” shouted Zukov.

  The teleforce rifles lit up, showering M’Lak with their energy blasts. But the commander vanished just before they struck. Zukov and Croft released the triggers and looked around, trying to spot him again.

  “Sir, behind you!” shouted Croft, raising her gun.

  Zukov tried to turn, but he felt M’Lak’s arm around his throat. The alien pulled Zukov close and Zukov felt his body burn as the teleforce blasts from Croft’s rifle struck his torso. M’Lak had used the director as a human shield and the next sound Zukov heard was Croft screaming.

  M’Lak released his grip and Zukov fell to the ground. He was still alive, but could barely move. He watched as M’Lak charged across the hangar. The alien deflected Croft’s teleforce blasts with the energy sword. Once he got close enough, he swatted her rifle away with his free hand. Then he plunged his energy sword beneath her chin, shooting it up through her head.

  “No!”

  Zukov’s cry was futile. He watched as the life left Tamara Croft’s eyes and she collapsed into a heap on the ground.

  M’Lak turned from her, his cape swooping behind him as he moved. Each fall of his boot was deafening to Zukov’s ears. Like a drumbeat down to his death. He knelt down over Zukov, holding up the energy blade so the director could see it.

  “This is how the Kotharians use our gifts,” he said. “Channel our psionic energy into our weapons. Unlike other weapons, these are forged of our very willpower. And the will of a Kotharian is unbreakable, Director Abram Zukov.”

  “J-just kill me and get it over with,” said Zukov. “Listening to you is worse than having my fingernails ripped out.”

  “Oh, I will kill you. But not before I’ve taken what I need from you.”

  M’Lak placed his hand on Zukov’s head. The Russian gasped as he felt M’Lak’s energies tear through his very mind. He could feel his memories leaving him, flowing into the alien. Could feel his own life slipping away. Bit by bit, everything that was Zukov was stripped away, now moving into the folds of M’Lak’s psyche.

  The general pulled his hand away. Zukov’s head fell back. He was still alive, but there was nothing left of him. He was little more than an empty shell. Abram Zukov, for all intents and purposes, was dead.

  M’Lak rose to a standing position. He picked up the discarded teleforce rifle and examined it before scoffing and tossing it away. He knew from Zukov’s memories that there were more people aboard the Olympus. And he could sense them with his own abilities.

  They would be the next to fall.

  CHAPTER 2

  J’Karra watched with golden, cat-like eyes as the guard chained her shackles to the floor and then left, leaving her alone in the room with Anita Jordan. She looked around the room once the door closed, examining the corners. The room wasn’t being monitored and she looked across the table, where Anita sat.

  “You saved my life.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Anita.

  “Chronos. He was going to kill me but then he couldn’t move. To the untrained eye, he was simply hesitating. But for a Kotharian, who has seen what psychic abilities are capable of, he was being held by an invisible force.”

  “That’s one theory.” Anita crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. “But I wasn’t there when Chronos was taken down. I was still on my way to the level.”

  J’Karra offered a simple smirk. “Is that so?”

  “I have some degree of telekinesis, that much is true. It’s the source of my flight, my durability, and my strength. But it’s hardly enough to hold someone still for a long period of time, let alone through several floors.”

  “My powers may be inhibited while this device is on my person,” J’Karra touched the inhibitor planted at the back of her neck, “but I don’t need them to tell when someone is lying. Your frequent visits here, your rescue attempt, the way your teammates act when I see you with them—all of this suggests that your feelings towards me are conflicted.”

  “You helped me stop the Collective, and I’m grateful for that. But then you tried to kill me, my friends, and even the President. You violated my mind. Why do you think I’d have any sort of conflicted feelings towards you?”

  J’Karra didn’t answer that question. “Tell me about this Chronos. He claimed to be a time traveler?”

  “What about him?”

  “Did you look inside his mind?”

  Anita remained silent. And the silence told J’Karra the answer she was looking for.

  “You did. Of course you did. What did you see in his memories?”

  “Why are you so interested?” asked Anita.

  “To see if it’s true. The suit he wore, it had elements of Kotharian technology. And if it was a tachyon generator he used, that would mean our scientists were right—time travel is a potential application.”

  “It seemed true, but there’s a problem. His memories are fractured, apparently from too many time-jumps. So it might not be the best thing to attempt.”

  “And the future? How did he obtain Kotharian technology?”

  “He stole it,” said Anita. “It seems the Kotharians did invade.”

  “You stole our technology to give yourselves these powers, what did you expect?”

  Anita shook her head. “No, you don’t get it. Chronos stole the Chaknaar. Then traveled to the past and released it into Earth’s atmosphere.”

  J’Karra paused at this revelation. She tried to keep her face from showing the surprise she felt. “How?”

  “Chronos said that in the timeline he came from, specials didn’t exist. But the Kotharians still invaded anyway. He stole his armor and the Chaknaar in order to give humans a fighting chance against your people. But instead, releasing the Chaknaar only drew you to us sooner.”

  J’Karra’s eyes stared at the table. Anita leaned forward.

  “How long have your people been planning an invasion?”

  J’Karra looked up and shook her head. “We’ve planned no such thing!”

  “Really? Maybe the ship that crashed in Roswell wasn’t a research ship. Maybe it was a scout. To see whether our planet was worth invading?”

  “I have no idea what—”

  Anita slammed her open hand on the table, causing it to shake. “Enough!
I need to know what the hell is going on! I’m seeing these visions of a hellish future, one where the Kotharians enslave humanity. And then here comes Chronos and his memories seem pretty damn close to my visions.”

  She narrowed her eyes, fixing her stare on J’Karra.

  “Two timelines. One with specials, one without. But both of them see the Kotharians invade. Why? If your people were only interested in retrieving the Chaknaar, then why invade a defenseless planet?”

  J’Karra’s mouth was slightly open. She slowly shook her head, staring at the table. When she finally met Anita’s gaze, the Vanguardian could see uncertainty and fear in the alien’s eyes.

  “I haven’t the first clue. I was told to investigate the Chaknaar readings, that’s all. I reported back to my people, but I said I needed to investigate further.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Anita.

  “I’m saying as far as I’m aware, the Kotharians know nothing worth launching an invasion over,” said J’Karra. “Protocol demands I send another report with my recommendation. Based on that recommendation, the generals will provide their analysis to the Matriarch and then she will issue the order for the armada to be dispatched. My last report included no recommendation, simply a notice that the investigation is ongoing.”

  “So you haven’t warned them? All that talk of an invasion…?”

  “Meant to rattle you,” said J’Karra. “I planted that vision in your mind before you defeated me. It was a ruse. My hope was your teammates would begin to distrust you while I planned my next move.”

  Anita suddenly stood and threw the table against the wall. Before J’Karra could say another word, Anita grabbed her by the throat and raised her off the ground, as far as the chains would allow.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” asked J’Karra.

  “It worked!” she screamed into the alien’s face. “Chronos said I betrayed the team, and now thanks to your little ‘ruse,’ my teammates believe him!”

  Anita squeezed harder, increasing the pressure on J’Karra’s throat.

  “What else did you do to me?” she asked. “Did you plant some sort of trigger in my mind? Are you simply waiting for the right moment to turn me against my friends?”

  “I swear, I didn’t—!”

  Anita threw J’Karra against the wall. She was about to move closer when the door suddenly opened and Cerberus guards aimed teleforce blasters at her.

  “Paragon, what are you doing?” asked McCabe, who stood beside the guards.

  Anita looked at McCabe and then J’Karra. She turned her back on the Kotharian and walked to the door, the guards keeping their guns aimed at her. She stepped up to McCabe.

  “She fell.”

  CHAPTER 3

  M’Lak strolled across the bridge of Olympus, stepping to avoid the bodies scattered about the floor. He’d learned much from Zukov’s memories and the Cerberus files in the Olympus computers provided him with even more intimate knowledge of what the humans were capable of.

  What interested him more than anything else were these specials. They were clearly the recipients of the Chaknaar. But unlike the Kotharians, their abilities manifested in far more interesting ways. M’Lak found hundreds of files on different specials, all of them documented as exhibiting a wide range of powers.

  There were numerous reports he’d read about the specials and Cerberus’ activities. Zukov’s memories and those documents gave him all the information he needed to know about events up to this point. And in it, he saw an opportunity. Particularly in regards to one man.

  The very same man who now hailed him on Cerberus’ secure communication channel. M’Lak approached the central terminal and accepted the call. On the screen appeared the face of a man with a receding, gray hairline and thick glasses. The man’s eyes went wide when he saw the face of the Kotharian staring back at him.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “We have never met, but I believe you recognize my race, Secretary…Ramsey, is it not?”

  Ramsey frowned. “You’re one of those alien specials, aren’t you?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I am General M’Lak, Supreme Commander of the Kotharian Fleet. And you are Secretary of Defense Joseph Ramsey, representing the nation known as the United States of America, correct?”

  “Listen, you sonnuva bitch. How did you get on this frequency?”

  “You also represent another organization, yes?”

  Ramsey remained silent. And so, M’Lak continued.

  “Yes, another organization. Known as the Red Fist. Dedicated to bringing about a new world order in the service of a master known as the Khagan.”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “I’ll be brief, Secretary,” said M’Lak. “Director Zukov is dead. As are the rest of the Cerberus agents stationed here on Olympus. I have access not only to all their data, but also their memories. I know of J’Karra’s imprisonment. I know of the specials and their rise. And I know Zukov’s suspicions of your involvement with the Red Fist.”

  “So you’re the one who left the message, not Zukov.” Ramsey leaned back in his chair. “What do you want?”

  “I want the same thing you do—to remake this world,” said M’Lak.

  “For the Kotharians.”

  “Yes, but I believe you will help me accomplish our goal.”

  Ramsey scoffed. “What makes you think I’d agree to betray my own people to some red-faced aliens?”

  “I have studied the file Cerberus has on you. That, combined with Zukov’s memories, has given me quite the insight into your character.” M’Lak leaned closer to the screen, a smile spreading across his face. “You, Secretary, are an opportunist. The Kotharian Empire is vast. We control many worlds. Far too many to oversee on our own. Local governors are necessary to maintain order, particularly on those worlds further from the seat of power.”

  Ramsey took a breath and looked down, folding his hands in his lap. “So let me get this straight. You want me to help you conquer the planet. And in return, I’ll be in charge down here?”

  “I believe you’re starting to understand.”

  “But I’d still be nothing more than a servant.”

  “And things would have been different under the Khagan?” asked M’Lak. “You cared nothing for his designs on a better world. You only sought to use him as a means of obtaining power for yourself.”

  “Say it’s true. Say I’m willing to go along with your plan. Just how do you think you’ll deal with the elephant in the room, namely these specials?”

  “You humans have already set the stage for that. These specials are just humans by any other name. And if there’s one thing you humans seem to excel at, it is turning on each other and killing your own.”

  Ramsey rubbed his chin. “I think I might be able to help you with that. You know about the trial?”

  M’Lak nodded.

  “It’s causing a lot of polarization. We could use that as a way of lighting the fuse. And then there’s something else you could do that would push things over the edge,” said Ramsey. “Right now, Cerberus is supposed to police the specials. But control over the organization lies with the director and the Security Council.”

  “If something were to happen, direct control over the worldwide Cerberus bases would be ceded to the leaders of those respective nations,” said M’Lak.

  Ramsey gave a nod. “That’s right. So what we need to do is see to it that this tiny spark turns into a bonfire. I can handle the trial, but we’ll need you to take over matters up there. Make sure there’s no secret that Cerberus is without a central power structure.”

  “Then some of those nations will use the new authority over Cerberus to turn on the specials,” said M’Lak.

  “That’s right. Especially with what’s about to happen at the trial of the Exemplar.”

  M’Lak smirked and stood upright, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re quite clever for a human, Ramsey.”

  “Not so bad for an alien
bastard yourself.”

  “And you are certain you can manipulate public opinion through the trial?” asked M’Lak.

  “Oh, definitely.” Ramsey smiled broadly. “Look, people have been divided over the Exemplar pretty much since the start. Half the people see him as a freedom fighter, the other half as a violent terrorist.”

  “How will you turn the tide?”

  “I have some people I can rely on. Useful pawns, they’ll do their part. And if all goes well, they’ll also keep Vanguard distracted.” Ramsey removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with a cloth. “But, there’s still another matter I want to discuss. What about that Kotharian woman Cerberus has locked up in their little prison?”

  “J’Karra,” said M’Lak.

  “Can she be useful?”

  “Of course she can,” he said. “As a martyr.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “And that’s it?” asked Leonard Thorne into the computer monitor. The face of Howard McCabe was displayed on the screen, looking at him.

  “I’m worried about her, Leo,” said McCabe.

  Thorne sighed and sat forward in the high-backed, leather chair in his office. He reached across his desk for the cigar box and took one of the Cubans from it, raising it to his nose and inhaling the scent of the rolled tobacco. The scent calmed him and he closed his eyes for a minute before setting the cigar back in the box and closing it.

  “You and me both, Howard. Chronos said Anita was going to betray us to the Kotharians. It’s put everyone on edge here. When Anita’s here, she keeps to herself, avoids all unnecessary contact with the rest of the team.”

  “She seemed distracted by J’Karra during Chronos’ attack,” said McCabe. “Has she said anything about it?”

  Thorne tapped his fingers on his desk’s surface. After they returned to Atlas, Zenith showed Thorne footage he’d captured from Gunsmith’s armor. Footage that seemed to suggest Anita used her powers to prevent Chronos from killing J’Karra. Although they were ostensibly there to stop Chronos, the primary motivation was ensuring none of the prisoners escaped and no innocents were harmed.