The Guardians of Sol

by Spencer Kettenring

“If that’s what you want to do then I am content. What movie were you thinking about?”

  “I managed to track down an original copy of one of the Star Trek movies. I can’t remember which one it is right now, but it’s before Star Trek thirty.”

  I chuckled, “Pop it in. maybe we’ll be surprised.” She smirked at me and fiddled with a few things. Images started crawling in the air over the holo-viewer. We cuddled close, and settled in for the night.

  11

  June 18, 2289. Cronus Station, in Orbit of Saturn.

  Barak Simeon walked into the communications chamber that he had commandeered and tossed a heavy bag at the young man sitting at the console. The young man grunted as he caught it, and pulled out what appeared to be a large golden beetle.

  “What in the Depths is this?” He asked, holding it carefully.

  “That, is one of what was causing the power surges that we kept registering… Power surges that no one on this godforsaken station seems to have had the urge to find the source of,” Barak replied.

  Unbuttoning part of his uniform, Barak spread out on the floor and took a few breaths. He shifted through a series of motions, stretching cramped muscles.

  “We really have to get you finished with your skills set. Collecting those things from the maintenance tubes should have been your job, Joshua.”

  Joshua grimaced, “Yeah, yeah, yeah… We got a message relayed through Operations. It’s from command.”

  Barak stood, “Put it onscreen, twit. If it’s from command it’s important. Maybe we’ll even get to go back to Earth.” He started pacing impatiently.

  The younger man transferred the message to a pad and handed it to Barak, “For your eyes only, Cousin.” Barak nodded and sat in the corner, entered his authorization, and looked the note over.

  Confirmation codex: Epsilon Gamma Phoenix Jerry Vincent Gamma Gamma Pi

  Relay date: 05172289

  This is a Priority One Directive, for this agent directly from the High Sentinel.

  Venator Simeon, Contact has been lost with the space Colony SCG-12877a. Given the recent turbulence in the command structure, as well as the unreliability observed in the inhabitants of Cronus Station; you are in command of this Operation. We must know what happened. No courier ships or patrols have reported back from that sector for two weeks. Be cautious. Commandeer the Sands of Cronus and any men you might need. Use authorization code: Omega Delta Delta Rho to get the job done. After you finish investigating, take the next Courier ship back to the Forge to deliver your report.

  Received date: 06182289; 11:37:42

  He took a few moments to consider this. Then, stood again, straightening his uniform, walked out the door. As he left he called, “Get some of those to Engineering Bay Three for study, I’ll be up in Ops talking to the commander.”

  *****

  Eight planets, four full space stations, three shipyards, and over one hundred colonies; and I had to be sent to this backwater, Barak thought. True, Cronus station wasn’t as far out as Hades base, but even so… The term ‘redneck’ came to mind when he viewed the inhabitants here. The only real hope came from the Ring Jumpers residing on deck 13, too bad they were arrogant swine.

  Now, all this was not to say that there were not good people, but from a practical, professional view Barak was surprised someone hadn’t accidentally dropped the whole place into the depths of Saturn. At least on Pluto the denizens could focus on useful things like research. Then again, the whole thing could all be an act; several levels were locked off, even when he used his high-level security clearance and override skills. There were no hull breaches to explain this event; all officers evaded answering his questions.

  Even with the orders and new authorization code, he had had a… delightful… time getting the base commander to give him the Sands of Cronus as well as several squads of Castigars, Vindicators, Ring Jumpers, Engineers, Technicians, and Pilots. They were set to leave tomorrow morning. Hopefully the problem only involved a faulty mechanism in the Gate, though since courier ships carried their own Archimedes drives, it failed to explain why none of those vessels had returned.

  Barak stalked into the apartment he was sharing with Joshua, and allowed himself a slight smile. The younger man had retrieved dinner for Barak, and he had kept a few of the beetles to take back to the Forge. Hearing the shower going, Barak called out, “You know what cousin? You make a fine assistant when you know what to do!”

  The retort was rude, though still much milder than would be heard from most Guardians. Barak picked at his meal and turned on the holo-viewer. Quickly scanning through the local channels, he settled on an old movie. Honestly, you would think that the fifty some million people in this sector would produce better entertainment. The most interesting thing they had to watch were the obstacle course races the Ring Jumpers undertook, weaving through the stones and debris of Saturn’s rings.

  He was just starting to drift off to sleep when Joshua came out, still toweling his hair dry. Joshua stepped quietly around his cousin and picked up the food, dumping it in the recycling chute. He was sneaking into his own room when Barak suddenly spoke.

  “Don’t forget to do your lessons before you go to sleep. I want you to be useful the next time I take you somewhere.”

  “Got it… yes sir, Cousin Sir…”

  “And you can quit with the attitude. You’d be doing them even if you had stayed at the academy.” Joshua snuck into his room. Not once had Barak opened his eyes, but he turned off the viewer before going to lie in his own bed. His thoughts were of his cousin, and all he still had to teach the young man.

  At age seventeen, Joshua showed enough potential in his combat skills to soon outclass Barak himself, by no means an easy feat. It was entirely possible that he would even attain a Swordmaster ranking of First Tier. The problem came from his other studies. The boy wouldn’t focus and it was almost impossible to get Joshua to sit down and learn the less interesting skills that would do more to keep him alive in this line of work. Sadly, they were the only family they had out in the cold void, with all of their parents and relatives residing in reclaimed Jerusalem. Barak put up with his cousin, younger by nearly a decade, taking Joshua on all of his missions that weren’t life-threatening and leaving the boy at the academy on the Forge in between. Of course, if Barak hadn’t been the Sentinel’s Hound, Joshua would have stayed at the academy all the time instead of getting some early practical experience.

  *****

  Though they had all seen it before, few on the crew of the Sands of Cronus had ever actually been through a Gate. He knew that most people disliked the sensations of being sent through a tear in space and time, Barak himself quite enjoyed it. Having been through several Gates himself, Joshua was more interested in the ship carrying him.

  When they had viewed the Cronus on their way to the station, the young man had remarked to Barak how it resembled a squid. And indeed it did, from the pointed tip it bulged out in the middle before coming back together at the engine compartment. Six smooth spires curved backwards from the engines, giving the old Bastion-class a graceful appearance. At nearly a kilometer long, it served as a veritable city, carrying over six thousand personnel on any given occasion.

  They pushed through into the Gate. As it charged, the edges of the colossal hexagonal prism began to shimmer. They received a countdown from the device’s control tower, and men rushed to prepare for the short jaunt. The viewer went dark as the countdown reached zero, and Barak experienced a short-lived sense of unreality. Suddenly the gigantic wheel of the colony was in view, its colossal array of solar panels oriented to pick up the strongest radiation emanating from Saturn, as well as from the sun.

  “Hail the colony,” Barak ordered. “I want sensor sweeps pulling in every last byte of data that we can get.”

  “Sir, there’s no response from the colony.” The man at the communications station reported.

  “Sensors aren’t picking up this area’s Gate, Sir!” another man reported.


  “What are we picking up?” Barak demanded.

  “There’s enough debris to constitute the Gate, several couriers, and at least two Aegis-class patrol frigates.”

  “Go to battle stations! Keep pulling in data!” Barak started shouting orders, which were carried out with a surprising passion. “Send the combat and engineering teams to the shuttle bay, and get us as close to the colony as possible. Have a Cerberus squadron recon that debris.”

  They made it to the colony without any new information. The colony was intact, no breaches of the outer hull, no open airlocks. Yet it was registering on sensors as a full ten degrees cooler than it should have been. Barak sent the Castigar squads in first, followed by the Ring Jumpers. While the rest of the shuttles landed, the Vindicators spread out to protect the engineers until they were needed.

  “Commander Simeon, you might want to come over and check this out.” There was a retching sound in the background. “We’re not picking anything up on any of the frequencies… but this is beyond our experience, Sir.” The leading Castigar reported.

  “What do you see, Captain? You need to tell us.”

  “Blood, Sir. Too much blood… its spread everywhere. A team has made their way to the town hall but they’re having trouble accessing the colony security feeds.”

  “I’m recalling the engineers until the colony has been secured. I’ll come over with the rest of the combat units. Hold your positions until we arrive.” Barak broke the connection and turned to Joshua. “If I don’t make it back you have to report to the Sentinel, tell him what happened here.”

  “But… Cousin! You’re the one in charge! You can’t go over there! And I haven’t even passed my trials! Why would the Sentinel listen to me?”

  “Most Castigars aren’t trained for breaking encryption and we’re not carrying any other Venators on this boat, that’s why I have to go over. And he will listen to you because he has to if I don’t make it. Hopefully we’ll find out what happened to the colonists. Still… be prepared for any eventuality.” Barak strode to the lift in the corner of the bridge. “You have command, Captain.”

  *****

  Barak was met on his way to the shuttle bay by a team of four Ring Jumpers. Without a word they took up bodyguard positions around him. He didn’t question it; his cousin had obviously ordered them to do this. Joshua and the Ring Jumpers were only following protocol for when the commanding officer broke protocol and put himself in a potentially dangerous position. Barak was too accustomed to operating on his own to be comfortable sitting back and watching the action.

  Arriving with his new entourage, Barak strapped into a seat on the shuttle just as the preflight list finished. He quietly said a small prayer for himself and the men onboard the shuttle. Pilots were constitutionally crazy and had a tendency to take unnecessary risks.

  They pulled into the landing bay, immediately surrounded by the Vindicators keeping watch. Barak ordered all squads to move out, to secure this quarter of the colony. He started on his way to the town hall.

  The Castigar captain hadn’t been completely forthcoming about the gore. True there was blood everywhere, but there was more. Body parts: fingers, arms, legs… Barak spotted several colonists who had been blood-eagled, their ribs splayed open and the innards nailed in place to the sides of residences. More than one Guardian had wrenched off their helmet and emptied the contents of their stomachs.

  The Ring Jumpers guarding Barak spread into a more protective circle around him. They made it to the town hall, witnessing the widespread devastation and death brought to this colony.

  “At ease, Gentlemen,” Barak said as he walked into the computer mainframe, he looked at the Castigars standing around with faces ranging from puzzled to annoyed. “Alright, explain to me why you couldn’t access the database.”

  One of the Castigars held up a massive fist and displayed the thick fingers. “Buckets come off easier than the fingers, Boss.” Showing the problem by gently mashing multiple keys with the tip of one finger. “Plus, we think there’s some sort of password on this thing.”

  “What do you guys do in your spare time, look in the mirror?” Barak asked sarcastically. “Move.” He seated himself at the terminal and took a look. He was in the system in less than thirty seconds. There wasn’t a password. “I’m bringing up security feeds from the day before this was last accessed. It looks like that was almost a week and a half ago.” He turned to his new bodyguards, “You want to make yourselves useful, pay attention so we don’t miss anything.”

  The first feed he brought up showed the main docking bay. Nothing seemed to be happening, and there was none of the blood they had seen earlier. He sped up the feed. Nothing more than normal maintenance work appeared for several days. Then, several dark and angular shuttles flew in. Barak strained to see anything when their doors opened, but they must have destroyed the camera.

  He switched over to the next camera in the hall outside, same time frame. They actually caught a glimpse of a dark form before this camera went dark as well. He repeated this process, each time getting slightly better views of the assailants. That is, until he stumbled across a view of a Vindicator on patrol, acting as a peacekeeper for the colony.

  The man looked like he was whistling. Barak supposed that the assailants hadn’t employed ranged weapons for their destruction so far, or the man would have acted a bit more wary. Two hulking forms, about as big as Ring Jumpers and almost as spiky, walked into the Vindicator’s sight. He waved to the men in armor, were they his friends or was he mistaking them for someone else? Did he think they were Ring Jumpers? One of the invaders raised a gauntlet and fired.

  The Vindicator spun around from the impact, and then scrambled into an alley between buildings. That ballistic mesh was really a wonderful material, Barak thought. The Guardian quickly caught his breath and charged back towards the invaders. The man zigzagged, tumbled, and spun. Not a single one of the armored men’s rounds hit him again. When he came close, he drew his sword and slid it smoothly into the first man’s throat. It was a perfect strike, too fast and any ballistic mesh the enemy wore would stop the blade, too slow and the enemy would just move out of the way.

  As the first man fell, the Vindicator was already whipping his blade into second man’s helmet striking sparks. He quickly reversed the strike and stabbed the second man through whatever armor protected the throat. Two more figures appeared down the street, attracted by the noise.

  The Guardian quickly drew his pistol and opened fire. The rounds just bounced off the armor. He began his run to these two as he fired. Halfway there, the wall from one of the buildings exploded outwards, and a blur knocked down the Guardian. The image showed a big animal, like a bear or… or a werewolf even, ripping at the fallen Guardian.

  Barak turned off the viewer. “That’s enough. I’m going to upload everything we have on these guys to the Cronus. Put out the word to watch for bite marks on the colonists.” He sighed, “From the way that man was moving, it would seem we’ve lost a high-level Swordmaster here. How many Guardians would have been posted here?” He was addressing the Ring Jumpers.

  “Probably no more than ten. Just for general peacekeeping services. Colonists don’t make too much trouble out here. Not enough time for it.” Their de facto leader, a Lieutenant by his markings, responded.

  “Blast… well, at least we didn’t lose that many brothers… even if one was a sword master.” Barak got up and went to the doorway. “You Castigars go and help secure the quarter.” To the Ring Jumpers, “Come on; let’s see what kind of view this place has.”

  *****

  From the Governor’s office at the top of the town hall, Barak directed the search. He checked and double checked that all teams had their video recorders on, if they were facing a new threat, any and all data would be of use to the analysts.

  Surprisingly, they had yet to find any survivors. Almost half a million people had resided in the colony; you’d have thought that some would have been abl
e to hide. Instead, the teams found houses destroyed, business buildings wrecked; even the safety shelters, rated to withstand hard vacuum and meteor strikes, had been cut open and the people who had taken refuge there ripped apart.

  After several hours, Barak was growing tired and turned operations over to the Vindicator commander. He had brought the engineers and technicians back over, along with doctors and their assistants. They were combing the areas cleared by the combat teams to gather as much evidence as possible.

  Going back along much the same route they had come from revealed that work, as many of the bodies had been removed to wherever it was the doctors wanted them. Given what had happened here, Barak knew two things. One, this colony would never be used for more than spare parts after what had happened here. And two, whoever had done this more likely than not hadn’t originated from Earth. The latter left several bad tastes in Barak’s mouth because it meant that whoever had committed this atrocity were rogue Guardians, a new group of pirates, or something else completely.

  Two neighborhoods from the docking bay, a wall from one of the innocuous houses exploded outwards. A blur covered the fifteen meter distance between the house and Barak’s party before any of them could properly react. Years of intense training saw Barak hurl himself into a backwards roll before he caught up consciously. It saved his life.

  The beast slammed down on the Ring Jumper who had been on Barak’s far side. In its frenzy to kill the man, it repeatedly impaled itself on his armor spikes. The man, a sergeant, had the beast’s neck in a vice grip though he still struggled to keep it from crushing his helmeted skull. His other arm was pinned down by the thing’s foreleg. The front claws were tearing at his chest, deep rents and tears were already appearing in the plates, one had snapped in half exposing the exoskeleton and circuitry beneath.

  The Sergeant yelled, “A little bit of DAMNED help would be appreciated, Sirs!”