Star Guild Episodes 1 - 9 (Star Guild Saga)

by Brandon Ellis

  “Tunnels.”

  Daf raised her brows and edged closer. “What? Really?”

  Crystal looked out the Mech’s window. Shadows across the land had become even darker, resembling Star Guild's dark blue uniforms, something she used to wear a lifetime ago. She shook her head, then gasped, her eyes widening. She ducked, her knees hitting the cockpit floor.

  Daf saw Crystal's reaction and spun around. She peered out the window. A craft had just flown by, but became smaller and smaller the farther away it got. Daf was glad that the Mech wasn't turned on. It would have mimicked Crystal’s duck—a movement the enemy craft surely would have noticed.

  Crystal, resuming her normal position, rubbed her face. “I was wondering when they'd send another search party. And only one craft this time? I guess we're not so famous anymore.” Crystal feigned a frown.

  “Thank the stars!” laughed Daf. “I don't want to be popular. In fact, I've decided that I absolutely detest the idea.”

  Crystal nodded her agreement, but kept watching to see if they might have been spotted. But, once the craft had completely disappeared from view, she brought her eyes back to Daf who was fidgeting with her pocket as she watched out the window. Crystal envied her and wanted to be as calm as Daf while looking at the terrain. It brought peace to Daf, something she wished the land did for her. All she saw was ebb rock hidden in the shadows and it was everywhere. Instead of feeling tranquil about it, she just wanted to blow it all up so she'd never have to work the quarries again. She shook her head and asked Daf a question. “Where do you think they store all of the ebb we collect?”

  Daf shrugged. “I don't know. Perhaps back on Matrona or on a starship? Why?”

  “We've been collecting ebb ever since we've been orbiting Lumus, a little over 800 years. Shouldn't we have enough by now? I never see any new ships or bases being built.” Crystal huffed. “I find that a little strange, don't you?”

  “Well, they also use ebb on buildings, warehouses, floors, walls…just about everything,” replied Daf. “They're holding the ebb somewhere, Crystal. Why?”

  Crystal closed her eyes and shook her head. “There are two dozen warehouses housing 48 Mechs each. We gather this stuff every day and we don't have near the amount of repairs to use up all of the ebb that we collect, and have collected for hundreds and hundreds of years.” Crystal's eyes narrowed, her face flushing red. “Have you ever seen a pile of ebb after it's been transported off this planet? Have you ever even seen the pilots who fly the Ebb Transports? Why are their windows always tinted so dark that we can never see them? Have you ever met anybody who says they’re on the Ebb Transport Team?” She didn't wait for Daf's reply. “Yeah, me neither.”

  “Okay, so what are you saying, Crystal?”

  Crystal rolled her eyes, wondering how Daf could be so dense. “I'm saying that it’s being taken someplace else. But where?” In exasperation, she threw her arms up in the air. “I don't know and you don't know, and nobody knows! But, I do know that most of it is not being used by us. That I do know.” Crystal glanced out the window again, focusing on a small mountain silhouetted in the distance and wondering about her life, her constant questions about how things were being run and why they weren't run differently. Hell, why was it mandatory to be over 7 foot 5 inches if you wanted to run for the next governance position of Prime Director? How could life have started on spaceships around planet Lumus? Who created the space ships? Who created the humans? We’re here, so there must be other races out there somewhere and why don’t we go looking for them? Questions, questions, questions and never getting any answers. She slumped at the enormity of it all. Through the years, she had come to see everyone as robots doing their best to live life happily as best they could, devoid of any real thoughts. She knew she wouldn't get much more out of Daf, let alone convince her that the governance had a secret they were hiding from everyone about their ebb storage.

  “So, you mentioned tunnels?” inquired Daf.

  Crystal looked down, jostled out of her thoughts. “Uh, yep.”

  “Can I get a little more information there, Chief?”

  Crystal cleared her throat, figuring Daf was just another pawn, another thoughtless worker who was definitely not going to believe what she was about to say. But, she took a deep breath. Here goes. “I found a tunnel system that went deep under Mount Gabrielle. They seemed to go on forever. I walked my Mech through them for hours, never coming to a dead end, except for one of the tunnels. There, I came upon an enormous—and I mean an enormous—door that had strange writings etched on it.” She stopped, not wanting to waste her words on someone who most likely would think she was crazy.

  Daf's head jerked back. “Huh, who the hell would build a door down there?”

  Crystal replied, “Who knows what Star Guild or the governance does when we're not looking.”

  Daf nodded. “Yeah, that's where they must hide the ebb from us.” She giggled.

  Crystal gave her a dirty look. “Not funny, Mechie.”

  “Then why didn't we hide in one of those tunnels?”

  “We needed someplace to hide–fast, and we aren't near any. Besides, I only know of one way in, which is also the same way out. Catch my drift?”

  Daf nodded as she stared out the window.

  “I saw something else down there,” said Crystal.

  Daf looked a little suspicious, as if Crystal was just making it all up for her own enjoyment. “Okay, I'll bite. What did you see?”

  Crystal shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She'd been standing far too long and sighed, then sat down and crossed her legs. She continued. “I saw something else when I was down in the tunnels, Daf.”

  “Yes, you said that. What did you see?” Daf tapped her foot against the floor.

  “The door. It said, or showed…that we weren't created here.”

  “You got that from a door?”

  Crystal became still. “Yes, it showed that we weren't created on Lumus or Matrona or Brigantia, or any other star near this galaxy. We were created on another planet, in another galaxy.”

  “How could you have possibly determined all of that by a door?”

  Crystal tipped her head to the side and shrugged. She knew how crazy it sounded and didn't blame Daf for not believing her. She might not believe someone if they told her the same story. She wanted to tell Daf that it wasn't just a door. It was something else, something that changed the more you looked at it. She didn't talk about that part. But, then she faked a smile and lied. “I'm just kidding.”

  Daf rolled her eyes. “Okay. You're being strange, Chief.”

  “I know. I'm just trying to take our minds off what we're about to do.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Crystal stood up and strapped herself in as she looked at the HDC. “Power up.” The Mech turned on. She switched the parrot mode on line and glanced at Daf. “Hold on to something. We're heading west. It’s time to get some food and water.”

  ∞

  A rap on Admiral Byrd's door woke him. He looked around. He was on his couch. He checked the time on the wall and it read 10:09 pm. He must have fallen asleep. He pulled both hands through his hair, ruffling it up a bit as he leaned on an elbow. Then he remembered the holovid—the orbs and the Thunderbird that had been erased. The vid had been tampered with, but by whom, and why?

  Another rap on the door and he sat up straight. “Who is it?” When no one answered, he took a deep breath and pushed himself up and stood. Then, as he wearily walked to the door, he rubbed his eyes, getting the blur out of them.

  Another knock.

  “Yes! I'm coming!” He rubbed a dab of slobber off the side of his mouth with his sleeve and spoke to the voice command in his door. “Unlock and open.”

  The door slid open and Admiral Byrd crossed a forearm in front of his eyes as bright light beamed through the doorway. Noisy commotion sprang through, battering him with questions, statements, accusations and what seemed to be chaos accompanie
d by shadows of people on the other side of the doorway all mixed together.

  Damn! Reporters! “What's the meaning of this?! Turn off those damnable lights!” He swung his arms in front of him as if swiping away mosquitoes. “Get back!”

  A woman strode through the doorway, temporarily blocking the light and giving the admiral a second to see what was transpiring.

  Yes, they were all reporters, and more than a handful. The men wore suits with ties and the women wore dresses, sparkling necklaces, and pretty smiles. Small robotic hover-vid cameras were behind them with their lights blaring at him.

  The woman who walked into his room shoved an audio device in front of his face. “Do you know why you’re implicated in the coup? What do you have to say about the charges brought against you?”

  Admiral Byrd wanted to shove her out of his room, not only because of the intrusion, but because of the question…a coup? The next stage of Zim's plan had been waged, and much sooner than he'd expected. He thought it was going to be a long, drawn out affair. Instead, he was being bull rushed less than seven hours after being accused of such a heinous act.

  “I did no such thing…get out of here!” He placed his hands on the woman, easing her out of his room as a man slid by her, shoving another audio device into the admiral's face. “The Prime Director says he has proof you were the mastermind in the attack! Do you have a reply to that, Admiral?”

  The admiral squinted, less because of the light than because of the stupid question and the illogical situation at hand. He shook his head. “Let me sleep!” He leaned against the man, pushing him against the wall of reporters, shoving them out the door completely. He glanced up to see a shocked Captain Stripe standing behind the crowd of reporters.

  Captain Stripe directed her attention down the hall, waving her arm and then pointing in the direction of the reporters. “Get them out of here!” Several of the Brigantia Guard came down the hallway, rounding up the reporters and herding them away from the admiral.

  Admiral Byrd, not wanting to discuss any more of this with anyone, stepped back into his office. “Close!”

  The door to his room shut and it made a perfect barrier, muffling the harshness he had just experienced. No more leading questions, no more assertions. Nothing. He just wanted sleep; although he knew he wouldn't be able to because he was wide awake now and he needed a plan. It was him against the governance, and no telling what they would pull. He didn't expect such ruthlessness from what was once a peaceful administration. Who could he call? How could he get out of this? His starship was docked inside Starbase Matrona, which gave him easy access to all spheres within the starbase, but now it was more difficult for him to fly his starship out of here.

  A thud on the door broke his concentration. But, assuming it was the reporters again and before he could ask, he heard a thick, low voice clearly calling through the door's voice command. “This is the Matrona Guard. You are under arrest. Surrender any weapons you may have and step out peacefully.”

  Admiral Byrd's heart skipped a beat. The authorities were here to take him away. Just like the attack, this was happening too fast, too suddenly.

  He went over to his desk and clicked a button. A wooden panel opened, sliding out a large, three muzzle phaser. He picked it up and switched the function from stun to kill.

  Thud! His eyes moved from the phaser to the door. “This is your last warning. We will blast this door open if you do not come out immediately!”

  He gave a heavy sigh and his eyes moved back to his phaser. Dumb idea, James. He placed the gun back into the panel and closed it. He went over to the door and stood erect. He needed to look respectable in front of the cameras and demonstrate strength. He needed the people to see his face, to see the truth in his eyes, and to see through the lie that Prime Director Zim was perpetrating right in front of them all.

  His stomach lurched. Chase!

  He needed to get word to his nephew. Dashing back to his desk, he clicked the auto-write function on the desk's HDC and spoke into it. “Chase. This is of the utmost importance–its for the safety of Star Guild, the governance, and the people. Zim has taken over the governance. I need eyes on the inside. Please be them for me. We need all the help we can get. Find out what you can and report it to Captain Stripe. I'll be in lock up. Uncle James.” He pressed a button on the HDC and a silver sheet with the admiral's seal embossed on it materialized on his desk. His words were printed in black. He folded the note a number of times and curled his fingers around it, making a fist to hide it from view.

  “Open!” he yelled at the door. It opened to a dozen Matrona Guards pointing phasers at him. The man in the front nodded to him, lowering his eyes for a moment. He wore the sergeant badge. Immediately, the Admiral knew this man didn't like what he was doing. To Admiral Byrd, this man's emotions were good. This would allow him a little leeway on his way to lockup.

  “I'm sorry, Admiral. I must follow orders.”

  A hover-vid camera flew inside of the doorway, hovering near the top of the door frame. It made a swooshing sound. The sergeant turned and aimed his phaser. “Get that hover-vid out of here before I blow it to hell!”

  The hover-vid dipped and sped out the door.

  “Thank you, sergeant,” said Admiral Byrd.

  “Admiral, please come with me.” The sergeant turned and reached for the admiral's arms, readying the hand cuffs.

  “Please allow me a little dignity as I leave my quarters and my ship. Don't embarrass me anymore than I already am.” Admiral Byrd's eyes were soft. “If I run, you have permission to shoot me.” The sergeant considered for a moment and gave a nod.

  Fleet Admiral James Byrd walked out of his office, following the eleven member Matrona Guard down the hall. The twelfth Guard, the sergeant, held his phaser near the admiral's back, moving the admiral along at a slow pace.

  The admiral looked over his shoulder. “I ask one more favor, Sergeant. I need to give instructions to my leading officer, Captain Stripe. She'll be around the corner. It won't be long.”

  The sergeant paused, thinking. He tilted his head, about to shake it no, but then changed his mind. The admiral had been very important to Star Guild; he'd been an icon for humanity for many years. “I can do that, sir.”

  As they rounded the corner, the captain was standing no more than ten feet away, arms folded across her chest, eyes burning holes into each Guard who passed her by. Then, standing to attention, she saluted the admiral, her jaw clenched and looking as if she wanted to break some heads.

  Admiral Byrd walked over to her, bringing his hands up to meet hers, skillfully transferring the folded note into her palm. She folded her fingers around it, concealing its content from view. “Bring Brigger to the helm. It's about time he learned how to fly. And bring Charlie to Com Desk. You take over the command chair, Captain. She's your bird now.”

  Louise looked past the admiral, glaring into the sergeant's eyes. “Yes, Admiral, but it won't be long before I see you back on the ship.”

  “Aye, Captain, in times like these, the truth is all we have. Let's prove my innocence.”

  Admiral Byrd turned on his heel and continued with the Matrona Guard, leaving Brigantia and hoping this wasn't the last time he'd ever see his ship and crew again.

  ∞

  The shadows of dusk were looming larger and longer during the hour Crystal and Daf had been walking their Mech westward, toward Warehouse 12. Talking had been minimal. Crystal imagined that if she could walk on this windless planet without a Mech, she'd hear silence and feel the stillness of this world. There weren't any animals here, unlike the biosphere on Matrona. Bugs did not populate here, nor even water for fish to swim and spawn. The surface was devoid of anything but rock and dust, with only occasional rain that fell, and that was collected in large, one ton barrels. Humans were the only life forms on Lumus.

  The Mech's HDC displayed 10:28 pm, way past Crystal's bed time. No wonder her vision was starting to blur.

  “Are we almost there
yet?” Daf yawned, rubbing her eyes like a child.

  Crystal yawned in return, then gazed at the HDC. “How much longer until we reach Warehouse 12?”

  Eleven minutes flashed on the holographic display.

  She peered down at Daf. “Eleven minutes. We'll be there soon enough, Daf.”

  They'd been sneaking their way over to the warehouse, doing their best to not get caught.

  Crystal spotted a huge boulder and positioned the Mech alongside of it, leaning its back against its breadth. She had her Mech peer around it, doing her best to be as invisible as it could. It had been an easy trek so far, because no search parties had flown by.

  “There it is.” Crystal moved the Mech around the boulder, seeing Warehouse 12 not far away in the distance. The HDC flashed ten minutes.

  “Ten minutes to the warehouse, Daf.”

  Daf made a funny face. “Yes, eleven minutes minus one minute is usually ten minutes. Thanks, Chief, I can count. I don't need updates every minute.”

  Crystal was learning that Daf wasn't very nice when she was tired, scared, and uncomfortable. Crystal knew she'd be even crankier in Daf's position, especially if she weren't in control of the Mech and leaving it up to someone else, but she would at least keep her mouth shut in front of a superior. There was a ranking order to be aware of; something Daf apparently didn’t respect much.

  Crystal maneuvered the Mech around a small boulder about half the size of the Mech. “Nine minutes to the warehouse, Daf.”

  Daf turned, taking her eyes away from the window. “Really? You don't say?”

  Crystal held back a smile. Two can play at this smart ass game.

  Crystal suddenly halted the Mech and Daf whipped her head around to the window to see why. Daf put her hand to her throat. “No!”

  Crystal had stopped the Mech at the top of a long, downward slope that was covered with blown off limbs and corpses of men and women littering the ground around destroyed Mechs—all dead. The poor lighting of dusk couldn't hide the grizzly nature of what they were seeing.