The Guardians Book 1: Path to Vengeance Read online

Chapter One

  Mabraant, Mabra System, Gaashox Quadrant

  Grogaan awoke abruptly in a cold sweat. He sat upright too quickly making him feel light headed and disorientated. His head throbbed, his heart beat wildly, and his breathing was fast and shallow. The sheets were damp and his head and chest soaked with sweat. He fell back onto his pillow and stared blankly at the ceiling while trying to steady his breathing.

  He was unable to focus his thoughts for a while, because his head hurt so much, and every breath he took sent sharp stabbing pains through his chest. Grogaan had never experienced such discomfort after having had one of his disturbing dreams, and to make matters worse, they always brought back memories of the terrible day when his loved ones were killed.

  When the pain eased he sat up, but the room swirled around before him making him feel nauseous. It was a bright sunny morning with a crisp chill in the air, which he usually preferred, but not on this particular morning. He rubbed his hands through his hair and felt droplets of sweat trickling down his neck making him shiver. With a heavy sigh, he flopped back on the bed and tried to relax.

  Grogaan longed to be free from grief, the pain and the heartache he suffered over the deaths, but most of all for the dreams to end. He wanted to be able to enjoy life again, but he knew he could not, not yet.

  It was Monday and he had to go to work, but it was the last thing he wanted to do, so he decided to remain where he was a little longer, hoping the pain would ease. He closed his eyes and tried to think about his friends and his future, but images of the dream began racing through his mind. He tried to make sense of them, but too much of the detail was blurred or enshrouded in mist.

  Realising he was not going to gain any relief by staying in bed, he went to the refresher unit to indulge in a long hot shower. He stood motionless for five minutes letting the hot water ease the tension in his muscles, and felt surprisingly refreshed. After washing and rinsing, he turned on the warm air blower to dry off, and then gradually reduced the temperature, letting the cool air stimulate his senses.

  Unfortunately, it did nothing to ease his headache.

  The only time Grogaan recalled having felt as bad as he did now was the day after his fiancée and father were killed. The dreams started several months later. At first they were light and infrequent, but became increasingly regular, intense and disturbing, which resulted in him becoming tense, irritable and depressed. When his mood degenerated, he avoided company whenever possible, because many did not understand, nor were they sympathetic.

  There were some who knew him well, and understood the cause behind his changeable moods. Three of those were his close friends; Zaack, Doraant, and Eldaan. He always tried hard to maintain a polite and friendly demeanour when around other people, especially his three friends, but on the rare occasion when he did snap at them, they never rebuked him nor did they take offence.

  It was these three who had always been there for him, willing to support and encourage him, often putting aside their needs to be there for him and never once asked for anything in return. They knew he appreciated it, and did all he could to repay their kindness by helping them when they needed it.

  Grogaan was extremely grateful to have such good friends, true friends, and although he had helped them improve their engineering skills, he needed to do much more. When the opportunity arose, he secured their transfer from the domestic appliance division to the spacecraft division of Mabraant Engineering.

  Grogaan was generally a jovial young man, friendly, kind and generous. He was surprisingly adept at hiding his problems from others, or if he was in a bad mood while in the company of other people, maintaining an air of composure and calm. Unfortunately, this self-control began waning as the frequency and intensity of his dreams increased, resulting in him becoming withdrawn and melancholy, especially if he was alone for extended periods of time.

  The solitude and quietness of those times compounded his troubles, mainly because he was unable to divert his thoughts away from the dreams, the deaths of his fiancée, his father, and his brother. On particularly bad days his depression became so acute he simply lost the will to live, but then his vow of vengeance always came back to haunt him, so he would persevere and press on.

  Grogaan dressed slowly, went and stood by his bedroom window to admire the view of the Potrodand Mountains. He loved them for two primary reasons; Lake Mabreese, where he spent a lot of time, and the canyons. Grogaan was a highly competent pilot, and found the concentration levels required for flying through those canyons at breakneck speeds was a perfect way to test his abilities. It also enabled him to keep his focus diverted from his troubles and dreams.

  As he gazed at the mountains, his desire to feel the adrenalin flowing through his veins and the excitement of high speed flight increased. He knew he was in a bad way, and that he needed to do something about it, but everything seemed to be acting against him. He cursed his misfortune, but he also realised he was extremely fortunate. He had a home, a job, and good friends, and he knew he had to sort himself out before something terrible happened.

  With a heavy sigh he left his room and went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. He thought about the work he had scheduled for him and his friends, trying to keep his mind off the night’s troubles, but his headache was a constant distraction.

  Kareana, his mother, looked up as he walked into the kitchen and knew he had had another bad night. “Are those dreams still bothering you?”

  “They are,” he sighed, “but I’m sure they’ll stop sooner or later.”

  Kareana knew her son was still grieving over the deaths of his fiancé, Miranda, his father and brother, how devastating it was for him, and how it affected almost every aspect of his life. She wished she could do or say something to help, even if it only eased his distress a little, but there was nothing she or anyone else could do.

  Living without Ruebern, her husband, and Ben, her eldest son, was difficult for Kareana. Even after four years, the pain of that loss was still raw. At times she felt as if her whole world was falling apart. Oftentimes, the memory of her husband brought her much happiness, especially when she remembered some of the special times they had together. She remembered their second trip to Breolis Primar shortly after their wedding, when they spent fourteen enjoyable days exploring the planet.

  Ruebern bought her a silver heart shaped pendant with a pale yellow pearl at the centre, hanging on a long fine silver necklace. It was supposedly a rare and precious gem found in the arid mountainous region of the planet. Ruebern knew it was valuable, but did not believe the stories of where they came from. These two factors were not important to Kareana; Ruebern had bought it for her and that was what made it special. She still had the necklace, which was kept safe in her jewellery box, but now it was only worn on the anniversary of their wedding day and the deaths of Ruebern and Ben.

  When she saw her son in his usual jovial mood, the way she always remembered him before he lost Miranda, it lifted her mood and gave her just cause to be thankful she had him to care for. Fortunately, she was not alone in her situation. Several of her friends and other people she knew had lost husbands or sons in the various engagements, and they often comforted one another, but it was not always enough.

  Grogaan picked absently at his food while thinking about the dreams. The one he had suffered the most over the last two years was of a large space battle. In the dream he was a pilot of one of Mabraant’s new interceptors, flying around strange shaped capital ships while pursuing and destroying enemy fighters. The cost in lives and equipment was far beyond his comprehension: The true reality of war.

  The scene changed and he found himself on board one of the enemy cruisers. The interior of the ship seemed to darken and enclose around him, suffocating him. Then there was an explosion that ripped the ship apart, and everything went black. It was at this point Grogaan always awoke abruptly in a cold sweat.

  The other dream, which was a more recent one he started experiencing, was of a woma
n trapped inside the ruins of a building. It troubled him greatly and caused him much distress, but he was unable to understand why. Grogaan knew few women, and only the loss of his mother could cause him such anguish. However, for some reason beyond his comprehension, he knew she was not the one in his dream.

  Grogaan tried to eat some of his breakfast, but the food tasted bitter in his mouth. He placed his fork on the plate and pushed it aside having lost his appetite. He poured some fruit juice into a glass and swirled it around a little before taking a mouthful. Its sweetness eased the bitter taste in his mouth, so he drank some more.

  His mother watched him, knew he was depressed, and wished she could do something to ease his pain. She had not seen him so depressed for a long time.

  “Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you, you’re friends came looking for you yesterday, saying they hadn’t seen you all weekend.”

  “I had some errands to do in Herloan City.” He did not want to tell her the whole truth, knowing it would only upset her if he did.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really; maybe some other time. Anyway, I’d best be off to work.” He finished his drink, got up and kissed his mother on the cheek, and left.

  Resisting the urge to cry, Kareana watched him disappear through the back door and sighed lightly as the door closed behind him. She had cried far too much over the last three years, but seeing her son so depressed and unhappy was making it hard to remain positive.

  Mabraant Engineering was about two and a half kilometres from his home, both of which were situated on the edge of Herloan, principle city of the Wosfere District. It was the primary maintenance and repair depot in the Fazaal sector, and possessed a land-based docking facility for repairing craft that were too large for the internal repair site. There was, however, no space dock for the major capital cruisers that often passed through the sector.

  The internal repair site catered for everything from domestic appliances to medium sized transports. Grogaan and his team were responsible for the maintenance and repair of spacecraft, primarily starfighters. He had been working there for ten years, his three friends for about seven, and they were all passionate about the work.

  Unusually for Grogaan, he was far from passionate about going to work. He ambled along the road feeling depressed and lonely, his mood slowly deepening with each step. By the time he reached the entrance to the depot, he was feeling so miserable he wanted to turn round and go back home.

  He paused before opening the door. “Come on Grogaan, snap out of it you fool.” He knew he had to rise above his own failings, to stop feeling sorry for himself, and for being so weak minded. He still felt as if part of him had been ripped away when Miranda was killed, something he thought would or could never be replaced. It was this loss that was continually eating away at his spirit, his resolve and his purpose in life.

  The stark reality of his situation loomed before him. If he failed to overcome this weakness, he wondered how he could expect to wreak havoc upon the perpetrators of his fiancée’s death. He knew the probability of dying in the first engagement was high, and that his death would affect his mother and friends, who had supported and stood by him all this time, very badly.

  Grogaan knew it was time to put the past behind him, to get on with his life, and do what he had to do, what he had sworn he would do. That, however, was the first major battle he had to face, but one he was determined to win. All he hoped was that destiny would give him the start he so desperately needed.

  The maintenance depot was quiet, just as he preferred it when he arrived. It gave him time to think and prepare before everyone else arrived. Once he had made the conscious decision to start sorting himself out, he found his mood had lifted, but it was still too depressed for comfort. Grogaan headed for the engineers’ crew room to change, hoping to be in a lighter mood by the time his friends arrived. He took his coveralls from his locker and noticed a green microdisk in the disk slot of the door.

  He took the disc and noticed the emblem of the Mabra Defence Academy printed on one side. The Academy was the third largest complex on Mabraant, situated on the outskirts of Stellant City in the Arlrent District. “At last,” he said, but refrained from getting too excited. Grogaan knew it would be the answer to his application for entry into the Academy, something he had been longing to do since he was a young boy. He picked up the datareader from the table, and sat on the chair near the window.

  His three previous applications had been rejected, which in itself was discouraging, but was made worse because the recruiting board gave him no plausible reasons for their decision. He knew there was nothing wrong with him physically or mentally, and was unable to understand why his applications were continually being turned down. His engineering and flying skills were highly advanced for one of his age, proving he had the necessary abilities to become a fighter pilot, but that seemed to be insufficient merit, at least in his case.

  Grogaan submitted his first application on his twentieth birthday, and he still remembered the excitement he felt at the time. Every two years after that he resubmitted another application, and now, six years later, he had received the fourth reply.

  The young man sat quietly contemplating for a while, wondering what the answer would be. His melancholy mood lightened further as he slid the microdisk into the datareader. The screen flickered and he held his breath in anticipation. A message appeared on the small screen and his mood sank when he saw the words scroll across the screen. Without surprise he read:

  We regret to inform you that you have been unsuccessful in your application to join the Mabra Defence Academy. You may reapply for the next intake in two years time.

  General Lantine, recruit enlistment.

  By the authority of the Mabra Defence Academy.

  Grogaan wondered why destiny appeared to be thwarting his hopes to become a pilot and defend his people from the Krelathans. Despite his application having been turned down, he refused to let it depress him any further. He had allowed the rejections and the loss of his loved ones lead him on a downward spiral that was destroying him from the inside. He decided he would do whatever it took to fulfil his dreams and his vow of revenge, even it meant acting outside the MDF.

  It was not easy for him. The depression had been suffocating him and dragging him down for so long, it was like trying to crawl out of quick sand unaided. His problem was finding the help he needed, the lifeline that would give him the impetus to pull himself out. His friends had always been there for him, but he had never recognized the lifeline they were giving him. As he pondered his situation, he knew he had to acknowledge his failure, his reluctance to accept help, and only when he managed to do so would he find the strength he needed.

  Just as he made the conscious effort to accept his situation, three young men burst into the crew room, laughing, joking and pushing each other around. He looked up and recognised the lifeline that was being given to him.

  When they saw him they stopped suddenly. “Hi Grogaan,” they said in chorus.

  “And there’s us thinking we were early,” said Doraant.

  Grogaan laughed. “Hi guys. Well, you’ll just have to do better if you expect to get in before me.”

  “Not much chance of that,” said Eldaan.

  Grogaan knew they were much happier than usual, and he found it impacted on his own disposition, making him feel more positive and determined to sort himself out. “So, did you have a good weekend?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t too bad, but it would have been a lot better if you'd been with us,” said Doraant. “So where did you disappear to?”

  “I had some important business to take care of, which took much longer than I anticipated. I know you’re curious, and there are some things I need to tell you, which has something to do with what I was doing, but it’ll have to wait. Now isn’t the right time.”

  “That’s fine by me,” said Zaack, who had noticed something very different about his friend. He was more positive and focused than usual, b
ut despite this, he still detected an air of despondency in him. “There’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” As he sat next to Grogaan he noticed the datareader in his hand, and knew he had received the reply from the MDA. “They’ve turned you down again, haven’t they?” he sighed.

  “Need you ask? Dammit Zaack, what does it take to get into that blasted place?” he replied. “That’s four rejections in a row.”

  “I bet they didn’t give you a reason either,” said Doraant.

  Grogaan shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “Damn those bureaucratic fools. What flaming right do they have to turn you down without telling you why?”

  “It’s the MDA, so they think they have the right to do as they please,” he said, his voice betraying his frustration. When he looked up and saw his friends’ expressions, he knew they had received their answers. “So when do you have to report to the Academy?”

  His three friends just stared at him, open mouthed in shock. “How did you know?” asked Eldaan.

  “How often are you lot so happy on a Monday morning?”

  Zaack shook his head gently. He knew how important joining the MDA was to Grogaan, and was distraught because they had been accepted when he had not. “We had them yesterday.”

  “We’re supposed to report to recruit registration in the central administration offices in two months, but there’s no way we’re joining without you,” said Zaack.

  “Well, that’s exactly what you should do. Don’t let my rejection ruin your chances,” said Grogaan.

  “You must be joking. If it wasn’t for you we’d never have learnt to fly, and still be in the domestic appliance division,” said Doraant.

  Zaack and Eldaan agreed vehemently, and Grogaan knew he had no choice but to concede the point, whether he liked it or not.

  Grogaan sighed. “Well, it’s your choice, but I’m not happy about it. Now it’s time to get on with some work. Our fighters are waiting to be finished.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be servicing MDF ships this week?” asked Doraant.

  “Not today. Several of the ones due in were destroyed last week, so we have a few free days.”

  The four engineers were currently upgrading, modifying and overhauling four Manta Class Interceptors Grogaan had purchased relatively cheaply from Mabraant Engineering. Trindall, the Chief Engineer and designer of the starship division, had arranged with the owner of the engineering company for them to pay for the ships gradually. However, Grogaan had paid off the whole debt within two weeks.

  Trindall had been very surprised at this and was concerned for the young man’s welfare. The authorities were very suspicious of people who come into large sums of money, and were often quick to start an investigation, which often proved detrimental to those involved, regardless of the outcome. He knew the Learmans were not a wealthy family, and it would have taken more than twenty years for Grogaan to repay it on his salary. The young man had been very secretive about where he obtained the money, but assured Trindall it was legal and honest, and there was no need to be concerned.

  The Manta Class Interceptor, designated MCI, was one of the fastest ships available in the Gaashox Quadrant, with moderate plate armour and weapons. It was an improved version of the older Manta Class Fighter, designated MCF, but was faster and had heavier armour plating than its predecessor. It was based on the Fadaran TS5, an earlier fighter that was rapidly becoming obsolete. The TS5 had been the Defence Force’s primary starfighter until the arrival of the MCF, and now the MCI was gradually replacing both earlier models that were beyond economical repair or destroyed in combat against the Krelathans.

  The ship was armed with two large laser cannons, one on each wing tip, and two proton torpedo launchers. It had a standard beta class-two lightspeed drive unit rated point zero, which Grogaan had replaced with a standard beta class one unit. The latter having a rating of point five, giving it a speed of one point five times the speed of light. It also had an onboard Fadaran Alpha-Two Navicomputer that could calculate up to ten sets of multiple co-ordinates, instead of the standard versions capable of calculating only five sets of co-ordinates.

  At its current specifications, the MCI was slightly larger than, although comparable to the Delta XB1 in performance, except for its firepower. The Delta XB1 was the primary starfighter used by the Republican forces in the Ladorran Quadrant, and had played an important role in the defeat of the Belocian Empire.

  The MCI’s Grogaan had purchased were second-generation mark-two interceptors with improved electronics and efficiency in all systems. However, that and the overall specifications of the ships had not been good enough for him. He and his friends spent the last year working on them as often as time would allow.

  They had fitted two additional proton torpedo launchers, along with the associated modifications required allowing a magazine capacity of five torpedoes per launcher. The wing tips had been modified allowing for the attachment of two additional laser cannons; they now had one above and one below the wing. They had also made considerable modifications to the nose of the craft allowing the instalment of four smaller but powerful laser cannons.

  The fuselage attachment fittings for power generators and other major items of equipment had also been remodelled. The single power generator was replaced with two that were slightly smaller, but the overall power output was about thirty-five per cent greater. The independent generators enabled the laser cannons and shields to be powered separately from the engines and remain on full recharge without any power drain on the engines. This in turn allowed faster recharge rates during combat situations, which could mean the difference between life and death. It also increased the power available to the engines, compensating for the extra weight of heavier armour plating that was added during the modifications.

  One particular item that had substantially increased the overall cost of the interceptor’s upgrade was a Fasardan Mark Seven Sensor Array. This particular array could detect any object greater than one kilogram in mass at speeds of up to two point five times the speed of light. Coupled with the newest Fadaran alpha-six navicomputer, a ship could maintain lightspeed travel almost indefinitely. Due to their cost, each unit costing over twenty five thousand credits, very few ships had them fitted. Most of those that did were owned by extremely wealthy merchants or smugglers. Grogaan had not yet been able to source the new navicomputer.

  “If there are so many ships being lost against the Krelathans, surely we’d be building lots of new ones,” said Eldaan.

  “Yes, but not all of them are built here, and because we conduct all major servicing on the fighters, maintenance work is being reduced in proportion to the losses. Quite a few engineers have already taken a reduction in wages rather than lose their jobs.”

  The others looked surprised, and were worried about their future at Mabraant Engineering. Grogaan explained that Trindall promised him their positions were safe due to their experience and abilities on starfighters. The only engineers in the region possessing as much experience as the four young men were already working for Mabraant Engineering or in the Defence Force, which made them very valuable workers. The vast sum of money Grogaan had spent purchasing the four interceptors and the equipment needed to upgrade them, had secured their positions for some time.

  “We must be close to finishing by now,” said Zaack.

  “We are. The ships should be ready for flight tests by tomorrow.” The three looked shocked. “Well, the sooner we get started the sooner we finish. Zaack, you work with Eldaan, Doraant, you with me.” Grogaan had spent a considerable amount of time working on their ships in the evenings and weekends without the others knowing about it. He enjoyed the work, and found concentrating on the modifications prevented him from focussing on the dreams, and as a result, reduced the periods and intensity of his depression.