Dragon guardian, p.1
Dragon Guardian, page 1
DRAGON GUARDIAN
STAR DRAGON
BOOK SIX
JAMES DAVID VICTOR
Copyright © 2024 James David Victor
All Rights Reserved
Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All people, places, names, and events are products of the author’s imagination and / or used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Christian Bentulan
CONTENTS
Prologue
1. Strategic Mistakes
2. Ambush
3. Evacuation
4. The Fight-back
5. The Watkins Move
6. Get Out!
7. The Heaven’s Host
8. Regroup
9. Home, Bitter Home
10. Redfang
11. In Your Absence
12. Nikos Samedies
13. Back in the Arena
14. Warden Saito
15. Though Fire and into Water
16. Docks
17. Back to the Camp
18. Remember
19. Assault
20. Dracis Rises
Thank You
PROLOGUE
THE JAALI JUMP-SHIP, THE EMPEROR’S WRATH
An alien hum pervaded the silence of the room. It seeped out of the strange, seemingly organic silver walls and reverberated from the tall crystal cylinders in lurid colors. It rose from the white, scale-patterned floors.
It emanated from the raised platform at one end of the room, where a team of human scientists worked to construct an archway…
It also permeated the ever-youthful skull of the Divine Sun Emperor Mikhael Solas XIII, Glorious Defender of Humanity, Father of the Imperium, who was currently royally annoyed.
“Can no one turn off that damn noise!?” the emperor spat.
His perfectly tanned face, with its high cheekbones and large, blue eyes, twisted in disgust as he lifted long fingers to massage his temples, flicking away his golden-brown ringlets as he did so.
The man looked no more than his late twenties and wore a simple, deep-red gown with gold fastenings, as well as a heavy gold bracelet with dull, gray data nodules.
“Sir, Your Manifest Glory, sir, we are trying our best!” one of the gray-suited biological human scientists said, turning away from his work at the arch of wires, sensors, and emitters placed right where the quantum anomaly was supposed to be.
Emperor Mikhael was already having a bad day. Right now, he felt as though he was having a bad three hundred years. He stood on the deck of the captured Jaali ship, which was shaped like a giant ring with a small section cut out of the end.
He breathed through his nose, and two of his Imperial scribes appeared. They looked almost as alien as the Jaali, with their small height and almost translucent white skin. Not a scrap of hair graced their heads; they had perfect golden orb implants instead of eyes.
“Not now.” The emperor waved them back. “The man’s impudence will stand for the moment. Be sure to reprimand his family.”
The scribes bowed their heads. The scientist visibly shook as all color drained from his face. An Imperial ‘family reprimand’ could mean anything from his family disappearing in the middle of the night to be sent to the furthest planet in the galaxy or merely all of their assets being seized.
All for the tone of the scientist’s voice.
“Tell me, my experts, how far you have come. Why is the gate not working?” The emperor drew himself up, holding out one hand as one of the scribes produced a steel tube that the emperor pressed to his lips and drank at once. Whether it was water, expensive wine, or the rumored gene therapies that had kept the man alive and ageless for the last three or four centuries, no one but the emperor and scribes would know.
The reprimanded scientist swallowed hard, looking for support from his three other colleagues. They worked on a metal assemblage of parts forming a wide arbor over the platform, with disks and antennae pointing to a blank space in the air and a large, burned patch on the ground.
Neither of the others dared to talk, and the original scientist sighed, as if accepting his fate. He was a fairly mature man, with short brown hair and skin that was heavy with the folds of age.
“Your Glory, our sensors can detect that there is still a quantum anomaly at this precise location. We estimate that there was once a rather extensive anomaly, capable of folding the space-time continuum here, although we cannot ascertain how this was maintained…”
“You cannot ascertain…” the emperor echoed.
The scientist swallowed nervously, freezing for a moment before continuing. “There are diagrams on the walls, sir. I believe that this was a form of scientific ship, and the entire jump project for the, uh…enemy was an experimental endeavor.”
“You believe,” the emperor purred.
“Yes! You see, there are scientific diagrams etched into the walls, and they show that these crystal columns are some form of batteries or power source, and they connected to, ah…” The scientist’s arm moved to where there were three empty cylindrical apertures in the walls, with broken cables leading to what had once been housed there. “…those. Or whatever was there. I think they are like data-cores or a supercomputer…” The scientist winced, pointing at the cables that snaked into the platform’s ledge. “And then to here. This must have been some sort of test gate, which allowed the Jaali to model the larger gate they would create with the entire ship, allowing the enemy battleships to, uh, to invade our space.”
“Our space…” The emperor arched one eyebrow. “Don’t you mean mine?”
“Sir, yes, of course, sir! Your space, as this entire galaxy—and all the other galaxies you so wish—are in your legacy!” the scientist hurriedly said, earning a mocking half-smile from the emperor.
Mikhael hated sycophants. It was such a shame that he was surrounded by so many of them these days. He turned his attention back to the missing cylinders.
“These…cylinders. What are they?”
The scientist froze with uncertainty. “We’re calling them quantum cores, sir. It’s the closest translation of the Jaali tongue we can manage. I think they govern the gate.”
“Well, we have our own supercomputers. Where are these quantum cores?”
“I… I don’t… How can I possibly know, sir…”
“The Orpheus Marines!” the second scientist blurted out. “We have taken the bodies of the dead Orpheus Marines and are doing what we can to access their memories. Although it’s scrambled, it seems that they took these quantum cores when they attacked the jump-ship, sir! They have them!”
The emperor hissed like a cat, and the Imperial scribes again took a step toward him, ready to do whatever bidding his divine glory required.
The emperor knew that the Orpheus Marines had come here. They had that Dragon Marine with them, and they had somehow successfully disabled the Jaali jump-ship.
The Jaali invasion was over. Even now, the last of the Jaali attack craft in this region were being rounded up and destroyed by the full might of the Imperial fleet.
But the fact that the renegade Orpheus Brigade had escaped with the quantum cores, the secret to running the Jaali jump-ship?
That was unforgivable.
If I had full control of this ship, I could extend my hand anywhere. To the Jaali in Andromeda, to the outer reaches here in my space, to the other side of the galaxy…
The emperor’s mind was filled with dreams of glory and revenge. Where would be closed to him if he had this ship? He had already denied death and perfected the art of harvesting minds when they died, creating an army of reincarnated war machines.
Surely the universe should rightfully be his?
“Find them,” the emperor spat at one of his scribes as he turned to go. The scribe did not seem fazed or even affected by his foul mood. “Find the Orpheus Brigade and destroy them utterly. Bring me the quantum cores.”
He strode toward the large exit hallway as a line of Imperial Marines saluted him. The scribes followed a few steps behind. Reaching all the way to the door, he paused for a moment and half-turned to one of the scribes. “And find me some more scientists with better etiquette. The current ones are retired from service.”
The emperor strode away as one of the scribes nodded. A third of the Marines started to trudge toward the group of scientists, their large gauntlet hands flexing as they did so.
1
STRATEGIC MISTAKES
Heka 5b orbit, Outer Systems
“Are you ready, Corporal Marins?” Keel whispered over the hiss of communication static.
Before him was the bright blanket of night. Behind him, the iron-gray orb of Heka 5b, a world so incapable of supporting life that even the robot Marine felt threatened by it.
Corporal Keel Hennity—lately of the galaxy-spanning Imperial Marines, lately of the experimental cadre known as the Dragon Marines, and now one of the heretic Orpheus Brigade—hung in space like a dead man.
Well, I am a dead man, the war bot—or the downloaded human consciousness inside it—thought wryly.
Keel hung in the void between planets with his metal arms outstretched like he was caught in mid-dive. His Imperial Marine suit was large, dull bronze and steel gray like the dead planet behind him, and fashioned like some sort of ancient, pre-stellar medieval knight. Vast shoulder pads protected his head and
This suit had been his home since he had been reborn into the service of the emperor, plucked from the server vaults of the Imperial House of Records and given just one purpose: to fight.
A lot had happened since then…
“Sir? Can you read me? Hell of a static here.” Corporal Marins’ voice glitched in Keel’s sensors, and a flashing, decreasing green circle tightened on the right of Keel’s vision as the form of the Orpheus Marine appeared, ghosting through the night.
“Yeah, it’s the jamming signal. That’s why it has to be us here in the first place,” Keel said as his vision briefly blurred and glitched with running green lines.
He moved his arms and directed himself toward their target as Corporal Marins did the same beside him. Their back thrusters feathered a blue-green flame, and the two bodies angled through the night, slowly turning as they gained on a small, disk-shaped object that cut across the stars.
It was larger than either of the Marines, but not by much. Keel saw the disk’s bulbous top and bottom, with an extended ring in the middle. Positional antennae clustered on both sides, and smaller positional rocket carriages were scattered over the domes.
This was an Imperial spy satellite, like the hundreds and thousands of others seeded across the galaxy picking up data on the Imperium’s enemies.
Just like we are, Keel thought as he moved his hands subtly, slowing his approach as he brought up his knees just before impact. He swung his arms forward.
Increase Magnet-Lock 50%
He ordered the suit controls to activate as he hit the satellite with a steady thump. The electro-magnets in his gloves and boots increased to clamp on the disk’s surface, holding him in place instead of bouncing him off.
“Marins!?” Keel whispered, a moment before the corporal performed the same move on the other side, hitting the top of it with a lot less finesse than Keel and making the entire structure start to drift.
“Frack it! Sorry!” Marins hissed as Keel got to work, de-locking the magnets in his suits and reaching for the utility boxes at his belt.
“Don’t worry about it. If we’re quick, we’ll get this done before we trigger the satellite’s tamper alarm.”
Keel drew his handheld plasma cutter and pulled up the schematics to overlay his vision. He was looking at a technical drawing of the exact same disk as he stood on, with various parts of it highlighted in orange and red.
“Reserve reactor supply, there,” Keel said, moving to the place marked with a glowing orange line on the schematic. “We cut that, and we don’t have to worry about the alarms or sensors.” Keel moved to the large plate as Marins came up beside him. Both started running their cutters over the metal.
Come on, come on! Keel tried to work quickly, but he knew he couldn’t be too violent. The satellite would detect any sudden bangs and explosions as attacks, and it would send an emergency call out to the nearest Imperial warship or even fleet.
That was also why the Orpheus Brigade couldn’t just blow the satellite out of the sky with their own attack craft.
Keel knew, however, that if they didn’t get rid of this satellite, it had the reach to monitor this entire segment of space. He pressed down a little on the metal while a line oozed and bubbled under the glaring pink plasma fire.
The Orpheus Brigade needed this part of the Outer Systems. They were running out of places to travel without alerting the emperor’s goons.
It had been that way ever since the Jaali incursion had ended—mostly thanks to Keel and the Orpheus Brigade, it had to be said. Corporal Hennity and Commander Orpheus, along with Recorder Sula and the brigade’s best Marines, had stormed the ‘ghost ship’ of the alien invaders. That was the ship that had created the quantum gate necessary to bring the aliens in from the Andromeda galaxy, and the brigade had successfully neutralized it.
Even though the alien ship was now in the emperor’s hands, Sula had made sure that she’d stolen vital server components so that it was entirely inert… Unfortunately, that meant that the emperor’s attention had now turned directly to the Orpheus Brigade in order to get it back.
There was a flare of plasma underneath Marins’ gun, and the plate he had cut suddenly rose toward them. The corporal caught it expertly, swinging it around as he attached magnets to its underside and attached it back to another segment of the satellite’s hull.
“Okay, let’s get a look at you…” Keel leaned forward, expecting to see the components before him matching the technical schematic overlay.
There should have been silver cylinders arranged in a row, with a thick metal cable attached that led to the main processor unit. It was that cable Keel wanted to cut, and then he and Marins could get off this thing…
…only the cable wasn’t there.
“Huh?” Keel looked down at rows upon rows of silver reactor cells, but there was no cable leading to another unit. They were direct-line housed in a square box.
“What’s happened? I thought our schematics were up to date!” Keel snapped as he brought up the overlay once again. The dimensions of the satellite were exactly the same, just as the details on the schematics were, but the configuration was entirely different.
“Sir? What do we do? The debrief said we only had a little while before the tamper alarm was triggered,” Marins pointed out, rather unhelpfully.
“Indeed. Got it. Any good at intelligence tech?” Keel peered closer at the unit housing the reactor cylinders but could see nothing particular about it. Certainly no on-and-off switch.
“I’m more the ‘shoot-it-where-it-hurts’ tech, sir,” Marins said.
“Right.” Keel sighed.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he sensed a wave of soot-infused warmth washing toward him.
Darkwing, my brother, he sent his thoughts toward the star dragon he had bonded with, which also absurdly happened to be the same giant reptile that had killed his biological body.
‘I can sense your unease. I will come! We will hunt together!’ Keel felt the dragon’s loyalty, and gratitude rushed through him.
Right now, however, that wasn’t what he needed.
No, my brother. We need to keep you and the brigade unseen. If the emperor knows we are here, it will put us all in jeopardy!
Keel could sense the dragon’s rebuke. ‘Let the emperor come! As if he and his tin machines are any match for me!’
Keel sighed. “Wasn’t I one of those tin machines once?” he murmured, earning Marins’ curious grunt.
But please, brother, no. This is the mission.
Darkwing didn’t answer that, but Keel could still feel his rebuke as the dragon withdrew to the edges of Keel’s consciousness. Darkwing didn’t like being told what to do, but Keel hoped he would at least obey Keel’s wishes for a while.
At least so long as Keel wasn’t in any direct danger, that was.
Keel looked at the row of reactor cylinders. Removing any one of them should stop the thing from working, right? He reached down, knowing that time was of the essence.
His large metal gauntlet of articulated fingers brushed one of the cylinders.
Nothing happened. His sensors didn’t read any sudden signals or alerts on Imperial subspace. So, he seized the cylinder and pulled. There was a moment of resistance and then a short fizz of light before the entire cylinder broke free from its housing.
Suit Telemetry: Imperium Sat v5 Still Operating…
“Sun darken!” Keel swore. His sensors were still picking up the subspace chatter of electronic signals. Removing the cylinder had done nothing, so he reached down and pulled a second.
Suit Telemetry: Imperium Sat v5 still operating…
The satellite was still working. Keel pulled another, and another, but no matter how many were taken out, it still registered exactly the same as before.
“I can’t turn the thing off!” Keel said in alarm as the reactor cells reached less than half their original number. There was no way that…
“Oh.” Keel looked at the unit they were contained in. He pulled at the large box to feel it move, suddenly give, and then lift out entirely.
