The Guardians of Sol (13 page)

“Thank you, Ramses,” The interrupting individual said. “You can finish your story later.”

Everyone turned to see the Sentinel standing next to the fully armored Shadowstealer captain, and a fairly nondescript Venator. “Have a seat, Captains. I’ve been updated on the situation, but I still want your take. There isn’t much to do at the moment, but I have sent out the call to several ships, and the rest of the Specials. In three days a fleet under my command will seek these invaders out and gather information, if we’re lucky, we’ll destroy them or wound them.” I was surprised that he would volunteer such information. Of course, how was I supposed to know that he was a bit freer around his Specials? He nodded in my direction. “Castle, I’m glad you finally got your new armor. I’m told you were part of the assault on the enemy ship last night. What’s your opinion, son?”

I took a moment to think. “Their armor tech is roughly equal to ours, and seems to share several engineering similarities beyond the norm. It also has a few weak points that were eliminated by our fifth generation of armor. The characters in their written language bears a resemblance to both English and Russian alphabets, though neither I nor any of the men with me could make heads or tails of words or syntax. We did manage to get a small data dump from a terminal that’s already being analyzed. They are very proficient in melee, though they seemed to have little defense against arc spears, leading me to believe they have never encountered anything like it before. Which just seems odd since the Spartans were using arc spears for the last half century.

“Based off of what we observed, their religion, if it can be called that, and possibly their society seems to be very brutal. According to what Vadasz’s preliminary debriefing, the invaders are called ‘Centurions’ and make use of his people as cannon fodder and attack hounds. If you don’t mind me waxing a tad poetic, these Centurions are like evil versions of Guardians.”

“Thank you, Captain. Vadasz?”

“The wolfman we picked up on the ship. He wants to help us if we’ll help him liberate his people.”

“I’ll make sure that I talk to him when I get a chance,” He looked around. “Jake, Frank. Report.”

The fourth and fifth squad captains looked at each other, and said something like: six down, four to go. The High Sentinel corrected them by saying three, indicating the Venator next to him. Which made no sense to me, but then, I didn’t know their assignments. Captain Ramses gave his report next, and he made it a riveting tale of intrigue in the jungles of Brazil and battles against the Corporation Security Forces. The High Sentinel looked a little impatient during the story, but he surprised me with a smile and a laugh when it was over.

“Thank you, Gentlemen. I’ve assigned a liaison for the battalion, Colonel O’Neal, and he’ll distribute your orders to you in a day or two. In the mean time, I’m giving all of you two days of vacation, use it well. If you have any issues you want to discuss, I’m here for the next half hour or so, but if not, feel free to leave. See you in three days.”

As fast as that the meeting was over. I wasn’t even sure why he had called us together, but then, it wasn’t my place to question my superiors. The Sentinel was conversing with all of the captains but Ramses and me. The big man just shrugged and made his way through the cargo bay doors and back to the shuttles. I couldn’t think of anything I had to have addressed, and followed suit.

The ride back was short and quiet. Everyone was uneasy, though if asked, not one of us could have designated the source. I would have said that things weren’t adding up, but I’ve never been cerebral enough of a person to have recognized that. When I got back, I gave my men the rest of the day off after we lodged our armor in the barracks.

Ruiz had sent a technician over with our uniforms, with a note about us saving face with the populace. I guess it doesn’t do much for the reputation when you walk around in skintight jumpsuits.

“Enjoy your free time, dregs. I’m off.” I told them, though Haywire had already left with Voodoo and Filch. A few minutes later, and three levels up, I was enjoying a quick sonic shower that blasted off all the sweat and grime. In a way, it was a lot like getting a massage. Fatigue caught up with me, turning the device off, I didn’t even make it past the couch. Rachel found me there a few hours later, waking me with a soft nudge and delicious food. I do believe that I am falling in love with that girl.

June 25, 2289.
Corinth, Greece.

In the Twenty-first century, the massive use of nuclear weapons set off earthquakes along the fault lines throughout the world. In the United States, before it fell, a great portion of California slid off into the ocean to create a new island chain. East of there, the quakes saw mountains tumble, and even further East, the Mississippi flooded. These events were not uncommon across the globe, and closer to home, to Greece, new mountains rose. After World War Four ended the European Union struggled to rebuild. The new mountains cut Greece off from easy access to the rest of the Union, so the Union built three highways through the canyons, and the mountains themselves before internal pressures forced that institution to fall apart as well.

*****

The little redhead squealed in delight as she flew up in the air, and the powerful arms of her father caught her. Telamon himself was enjoying the activity more than almost anything else he had done in the past few years. After he caught her again he squeezed her tight and kissed her cheeks, making the three year old squeal and squirm all the more.

He saw Delilah watching from the balcony of their villa. He grinned; she waved, and went back to work. She managed the family company he had inherited from his father. She had turned it into one of the most profitable businesses in all of Greece. Telamon, naturally, had no idea what ‘his’ company even did anymore.

The housekeeper walked out from the kitchen entrance with a note and handed it to Telamon. He read it, an odd look on his face. He put his daughter down so she could play with her toys again and bid the housekeeper stay to watch her.

With quick strides just short of a jog, he made his way to his office and opened the com system. Leon, King of Greece, appeared before him. They were about the same age, but where Telamon was slim and still mostly dark-haired; Leon was huge with sloped shoulders and silver, receding hair. Leon looked even grimmer than usual, and that was saying something about the man.

“Telamon! You’re still alive, good,” Greeted the Monarch.

“And still a thorn in your side, eh? I’m on leave for a few months, what’s this about?”

“Blunt as usual. I know about your leave, but recent events make it necessary for me to order you to a strategy meeting in three days.”

“What recent events? And why am I involved? I’m just Michael’s Captain of the Guard,” Telamon growled.

The other man sighed, “Our border guard in Thessaly was attacked. And this wasn’t just the usual skirmishes either. A good portion of the men there were injured, thank the high heavens none seriously. Satellite images show massive troops movements all throughout Europe. I already talked with the Sentinel, he told me to get you onboard and tap your experience if I really needed it.”

“Yeah? And how does he know I’m not going to refuse you? It’s not like we’re exactly friends. Plus, you have plenty of generals on your staff. If battles come then I’ll be there, but I see no need to be on your retinue,” Telamon groused.

“First, my generals are all much younger than either of us, without our experience or wisdom. And second, you moron, your son is one of the wounded at that base. I would have thought you’d like the chance to pay the enemy back.”

For the first time, Telamon let drop his gruff exterior, showing his concern. “Hektor was wounded? How bad is it?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back to fighting in a day or two, or so I’m told. Alright, I’m sure you want to be with your family. Top of the Acropolis in Athens, three days from now. I’ll see you there.” And as simple as that the Greek king cut the transmission, leaving Telamon slightly off-balance. He swore; better talk to Delilah about this, he thought.

*****

Later that evening, Telamon sat at the head of the dinner table, listening to his son-in-law describe the difficulties of teaching Greek youth philosophy, which was funny, since some of the most famed philosophers were Greeks. He was having a hard time keeping a smile off of his face as he ripped into his mutton. Mutton wasn’t his favorite way to have lamb, but the cook had a way of seasoning it that made it almost irresistible.

“I think the main problem is that these boys are raised too much on the legends of Heracles and Achilles, and not enough about men like Hector and Odysseus. They need to focus more on men of thought and action rather than just action,” Eric pointed a finger accusingly at Telamon, “and you and your exploits are hardly helping my cause.”

Telamon swallowed his meat and glanced at the man. “What did I ever do?” He continued his glance at Delilah, his oldest daughter Faye, and the twins Rhea and Lila. They all just shrugged at him in turn.

“You, old man, have risen to fame and glory with the tales of your brute force actions. They give the youth the idea that they don’t need to learn how to think and strategize, that they can just power through whatever situation they find themselves in and to hell with the consequences.”

“Is it my fault that most battles I’ve been in call for straight-forward tactics? Not a lot of other ways to use a Spartan force anyway. Besides, I use tactics. Haven’t you seen that vid from my duel back in Japan? I did well for an old guy back there.”

Eric sighed, “Alright, so that part isn’t really your fault. But it’s still grating that I’m supposed to teach the boys at the Agoge to think and they refuse to. But on the other hand… I couldn’t be luckier than to have Faye and the kids to come home to – Neo! Stop throwing food at your brother! – much better than being on the front lines. You seem… on edge, old man.”

“We’ll discuss the reason for that after dinner. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the meal.” Telamon sighed, “Stop hitting Neo, Sweetie.” He directed to his little redheaded daughter. One of the servants began bringing out dessert. He licked his lips, he loved being home.

*****

Shutting the doors to his office, he gestured for Eric to sit. “King Leon has ‘commanded’ me to attend his strategy meeting in three days. You look at things differently than me or most of the people around here, so I’m bringing you with me.”

“I can’t say I’m not flattered, old man, but it’s not that easy to find a substitute for philosophy classes at the Agoge these days. I do have responsibilities to attend to,” the younger man replied.

“Too bad for you I already spoke to the school’s headmaster and got you off for a few weeks, eh?” Telamon smiled, “It’ll be good for you to meet the brass anyway. You can’t be a teacher… forever…” He stood up, alarmed.

Eric stood up as well, and followed his father-in-law’s gaze. A patch of shadow detached itself from the other shadows behind him. Telamon followed his first instinct and threw a powerful punch at it – and went tumbling over his desk as the shadow reacted. Eric easily deflected the blow that the shadow sent his way and hit the assailant with an open palm to the chest.

The shadowy form staggered before taking up a fighting stance. Eric grinned, a fight it would be then. Even though the figure was blurry, hard to keep track of, he dodged or deflected every blow while returning his own. His hands already felt sore from striking the man’s armor. He slammed a kick into his foe’s legs, toppling him, but before he could bat an eye the shadowy figure was back on his feet, albeit favoring his left leg.

“Hold!” Telamon ordered, and slammed a fist on his desk for emphasis. The intruder immediately dropped his hands to his side, even going so far as to turn off his active camouflage. Eric took a few more moments before he stood down, though he was still wary of the other man.

“Take off your helmet, Barak.” The old man commanded. “And learn to knock. My son-in-law, Eric, could have killed you just now.” Barak raised an eyebrow, for indeed, he was a very dangerous man himself and not accustomed to anyone else being much of a threat. Telamon smiled. “May I introduce you to Major Eric Reynolds, Vindicator , and Swordmaster of the First Tier.”

“Oh, yes, Reynolds… I’ve heard about you,” Barak said. “Promising career, then you took a teaching job. Very odd if you ask me.”

“I have my reasons. And who hasn’t heard of the Sentinel’s Hound?” Eric retorted. “You only made it to the Fourth Tier of Swordmaster training, didn’t you?” Barak made a face, not quite a sneer, but definitely not friendly. They all knew that Barak was closer to the second or even first tier.

Telamon cut in before the two young men came to blows again. “Alright Barak, why are you here? I know you don’t make social calls so what did Michael send you to me for?”

“Just came off an intelligence mission over in Hungary. Uther has an army gathering there before they move on down to Greece. From there, I’m sure only Uther really knows. But uh… one of his advisors seems to have misplaced a few files into my care.” Barak grinned and pulled a data crystal from his gauntlet. “I’ve already sent a copy to the Sentinel. He said that since these will concern your defense of Greece I should give them to you.”

Telamon took the crystal and eyed it. “Thank you; this information will be put to good use. Have you eaten yet? I’d be a poor host if I didn’t offer you a meal.”

“I have to be in Athens in a few hours if I’m going to make my shuttle… but I haven’t had a decent meal since before this last mission. Thank you for your hospitality, Sir.”

“No problem.” He hit a button on the wall panel and a servant came in. “Take Commander Simeon to the kitchen and make sure he gets his fill. Barak, I still have a few things to talk to Eric about. We will speak later.”

*****

Three days later, Telamon stormed out of the Acropolis, Eric trailing behind him struggling to keep the dismay and the urge to laugh that were warring in him from showing on his face. “I can’t believe you broke his jaw! Well, okay, I can because you’re you… but still!”

“That Sheep-Shagging Twit insulted my daughter! Insulted your wife! Insulted you! I can’t believe you weren’t the one to break his jaw!” the older man yelled over his shoulder. They rounded a corner, coming into sight of their puddlejumper, a short range personal air transport produced by the business.

“I’m a Swordmaster and a philosopher; I’ve long since gone beyond the need for retribution because of words. Now, if the moron had actually hurt Faye in anyway, he would even now be dying slowly and painfully.” He put a hand on Telamon’s shoulder to stop him for a moment, “Are you still going to take command of the Larissa defense?”

“Yes, I’m still going to command it. But if Leon assigns that… that… if I have to ever see that pissant of a general again he will die. And then Leon will get maimed.”

“Jolly good and all that. Don’t forget to look over the geography and consider tactics. I’ll be – Telamon, calm down damn it! – I’ll be looking over the same things so I can help you with strategy and tactics, but you’re still the general and you have to keep a cool head. You’re the only one who can lead, Tel. And keep in mind that we’re only going to have about three-thousand men for the job.”

Telamon finally took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll focus.” He smiled. “You impudent pup.” He sat down and started the jumper. “Let’s go enjoy what few days we have with the family, shall we, son?”

*****

Two weeks later, with most of Larissa evacuated, Telamon had set up listening posts around the city, with the majority of them concentrated to the north of Larissa. For two weeks he had kept the men busy cleaning equipment, digging ditches, and building walls. During that time, Eric had worked himself overtime coming up with a sound defensive strategy, and almost beating Telamon bloody several times when the man wouldn’t listen to common sense. It wasn't that Telamon lacked strategic or tactical sensibilities; it was just that he hated defensive battles and had so little regard for his current enemies.

Overcoming his father-in-law’s insistence to ‘meet the enemy head-on,’ Eric had gotten the walls and ditches dug across the best northerly routes into Larissa, rubble strewn across any open ground to make vehicles impossible to drive on it. Metal spikes hidden in covered holes. Even a few surprises like auto-gun emplacements in the canyon walls and floor. Most of it was make-work to keep the men busy, but it was truly amazing what could be done in such a short time with a few thousand men in power armor.

Telamon and Eric were pouring over maps and technical readouts when a harried looking Venator ran into the command post, inside the town hall. After identifying the two men, he rushed over, placed a data crystal in their hands and went back out without so much as a word of greeting.

The old Spartan pushed the crystal into the receptacle of his data pad. Images and maps fluttered in procession before finally setting on an encrypted message that, once decoded, bore the date from two days past. He frowned as he processed the information. Eric knew that face, knew it as well as if it were his own father’s. That is, before his father had died defending civilians in one of the many skirmishes constantly taking place around the world.

Telamon finally looked Eric in the face, “We have two days to finish getting ready. It would seem that Uther’s going to hit all of our defensive positions instead of just one or two like we had thought.” He started changing into a more functional uniform as he spoke. “Get the unit commanders together; we have some last surprises to set up for them.”

*****

First contact came before the sun had even risen. The enemy gave no warning, and received none, sneaking in through the routes Eric had projected. The scouts were quickly captured or dispatched by sentries on the mountainous walls overlooking the roads. Telamon sent out a troop of Sciritai rangers to double-check the disposition and location of the enemy while the scouts were interrogated.