Urth

By Carole Tempest

In a small corner of the Akarana Galaxy there is a planet. The Guardians have kept the existence of this planet hidden from the Galactic Community, but the planet is evolving and the Community is expanding, soon the Guardians will have to decide whether to allow their mistakes of the past to be known, or to eliminate them.
One Guardian lives to protect planet Earth, another seeks to destroy it.
When the High Council decides it is time to settle the issue one way or the other events are set in motion that have been prophesied for more than a billion years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carole Tempest
• Release date: Sep 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476275482

Carole Tempest

My mum always said I lived in my own little world. She wasn't wrong, but now I'm starting to write it down and share it.Now though it has expanded into a whole galaxy.You can find me on Google+ atgoogle.com/+CaroleTempest

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URTH

By Carole Tempest

Guardian Secrets

Book 1

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Carole Tempest

All Rights Reserved.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Intruder

Chapter 2: Statue

Chapter 3: Tradition

Chapter 4: Gisleik

Chapter 5: All Hallows Eve

Chapter 6: Destruction

Chapter 7: Aladaru Samlith

Chapter 8: The Morning After

Chapter 9: The Last Prophecy

Chapter 10: Holly

Chapter 11: Memussis

Chapter 12: Christmas Eve

Chapter 13: Pain

Chapter 14: Independent Review

Chapter 15: Sazussis

Chapter 16: Reunion

Chapter 17: Data Strips

Chapter 18: Training Norns

Chapter 19: The Black Ships

Chapter 20: Crash Landing

Chapter 21: Apollo

Chapter 22: The Mind Link

Chapter 23: Rescued

Chapter 24: The Trojan War

Chapter 25: The Rape of Cassandra

Chapter 26: Battle Plans

Chapter 27: Council Meeting

Chapter 28: The Farmhouse

Chapter 29: Battle

Chapter 30: Paharugen

We dance around in a ring and suppose,

But the Secret Sits in the middle and knows.

Robert Frost. The Secret Sits (1942)

Chapter 1: Intruder

The collision alarm screamed in Alexander's ear; he dived forward and jammed the button back into the reset position. Alexander gripped the thrusters control lever and leaned hard left as he yanked on it to steer away from the incoming meteorite. He checked he was clear by looking out of the cockpit window. He turned his head to the right just as a piece of rock the size of a football skimmed past the side of his flier less than ten metres away.

Beyond the most recent near miss Alexander saw a dense patch of the asteroid field, and he was headed straight for it.

He studied his sensor data looking for a route through. The high pitched wail of the alarm sprang back to life: Alexander punched it off. He fought with the controls to dodge the incoming space debris that hurtled at him.

After rolling right then left he lunged forward and grabbed a roll of sticky tape from the mid recess just as the shriek of the alarm resumed. He almost jumped out of his skin. Alexander caught a glimpse of a speck in his peripheral vision coming straight at him, he ducked in the cockpit.

The particle flared on impact as it struck the thin energy field which covered the outer hull and disintegrated. Alexander checked for damage, but the field had served its purpose. The energy field was only an inch thick, but that was all that was needed to protect the hull from micro-fissures caused by tiny space debris that was often too small to see. As the current situation proved, the field could also withstand small impacts. Alexander preferred not to test just how much it could withstand so he searched for a larger asteroid that he could keep pace with and stay out of the storm of tiny particles.

Alexander took the roll of tape and put one end in his teeth to tear a piece off just as the alarm began to wail again. He grabbed the controls and banked hard, dropping the roll with one end still clamped in his teeth. The roll of tape flew across the cockpit unravelling as it went.

While Alexander performed a series of tight, sharp manoeuvres, the collision alarm screamed. The roll of tape bounced off the bulkheads of the one man flier, adhering to each surface it touched until Alexander pulled alongside a sizeable asteroid and fell into pace with it. He fired two anchor lines from the fore and aft into the rock and set the auto pilot to hold station. He managed to detach a short length of tape from the end in his mouth and thumped down the button, securing it in place with the tape.

Silence descended on the small cabin. Alexander closed his eyes and sighed,

‘Time to take stock’ he thought.

Now that he felt calmer, Alexander took a deep breath and opened his eyes to survey the scene. He was in the shadow of an asteroid about twice the size of his flier, the anchor lines were taught but not straining and he was easily keeping pace with it.

He took a moment to review his sensor data and work out exactly where he was in the field. Alexander transferred the radar and sensor data to overlay on the cockpit windscreen allowing him a large field of vision, but still allowing him to monitor space just outside the window.

The main window was also a touch-screen, so Alexander was able to manipulate the image and gain another perspective; he pulled the image around and zoomed out. As he studied the image he realised he had strayed further into the asteroid field than he would have liked. The field, though not uniform, did tend towards a heavier concentration along the central axis and in places a particularly large asteroid could generate enough of a gravitational field to attract many of the much smaller pieces, so whilst the larger ones tended to hold an almost uniform orbit this was often accompanied by a cacophony of smaller rocks being pushed and pulled and colliding into each other to create a maelstrom of chaos which would be triggered by sometimes the smallest of changes to the gravity within the field.

Alexander had seen it all too often, and this time he had chased the cause straight into the eye of the storm. He looked for it now, some sign that the rogue flier had survived the onslaught that its own gravitational input had caused.

He checked for an engine heat source, an exhaust plume, a processed metal or even a fragment field from a collision or a recent explosion. There was nothing. His sensors were failing him, that wasn't possible. The kid had to be out here somewhere, so why wasn't he picking up anything on his sensors? Even a chameleon cloaked Guardian Flier could be tracked by another Guardian, even if you couldn't identify the ship, you could see it was there. Alexander's sensors combined the best Guardian tech, plus some tech the other Guardians didn't even know he had.

Alexander set a trace running and then minimised the data to the top right hand corner of the screen while it ran. He stared out of the window at the asteroid field.

Where would I go to hide from me he muttered to himself.

Alexander slowly turned his head to look out of the right window at the asteroid he was tethered to.

Of Course he said to himself.

Alexander typed a command sequence into the sensor computer and opened a second visual window. A new set of sensors came online, these included a multitude of passive sensors which Alexander had spent centuries seeding throughout the system: his system. The system he had spent the last two thousand years guarding, patrolling and keeping free of uninvited guests: a task which had become more troublesome of late.

The galaxy was evolving and growing, it did not seem so long ago that the nearest inhabited system took three weeks to travel to, at least for the native races. The shipping lanes had been sparse and easy to monitor for errant traffic.

Vega had changed all that. Vega had become a hub for the region, and as it grew so did the traffic on the edges of Alexander’s system.

He was the sole Guardian here and until now he had been able to keep it clear, but that situation could not last for much longer. There had always been the occasional rogue ship, a survey vessel or just curious passers by who wondered why this sector was so empty. And then there were those who came to seek out the legend who supposedly patrolled it. They were all seen off and none had penetrated the security web Alexander had built.

The Guardians’ best kept secret was safe: for now.

The situation which had presented itself today would only increase. Alexander knew he could not keep the system free of traffic for many more years without a squadron to help. He also knew that as soon as a fully functional Patrol Base was established here, curiosity would grow too. Word would spread that there was something here and, once the word was out, there would always be those who had to find out what it was.

Alexander studied the new data, keeping one eye on his collision alert as he looked for any sign of where the rogue flier was hiding.

The passive sensors included a multitude of cameras and as many, if not more, mirrors and mirrored surfaces to increase the available light. Alexander set the cameras to sweep a slow arc across their field of vision. He had to be patient. It would take some time for them all to complete their sweeps and still longer to sift through all the data.

In the meantime all he could do was wait while the computer processed everything.

While he waited, Alexander checked the rest of the system, apart from anything else, he wanted to ensure that the Vega patrol, that had chased the rogue flier this far, had turned back at the Oort cloud. He pulled up those sensors first and confirmed three Guardian fliers holding station just outside the system. They were like predators waiting for their prey to emerge from the rabbit hole. Everywhere else was clear.

Alexander turned his attention back to the passive sensors and tried to identify one closest to his current position. He found the asteroid he was currently shadowing and hoped that maybe it had a camera or sensor of its own; preferably on the dark side of his current location in its shadow.

How ironic would it be if the rogue was less than ten metres away? Was it too much to ask for a birds eye view into the cockpit at the culprit of his current predicament?

Alexander found the asteroid on his scopes and located a view of the far side, his luck was out on both counts; it was clear. He would just have to wait for the programme sweep to finish. Then he would find the thorn in his side.

Alexander minimised the data windows so that he could have a clear field of vision out into the black of space while he waited.

With the data minimised he caught his own reflection staring back at him, he began to chuckle to himself. His preoccupation with avoiding turning himself into a fireball had distracted him. He had forgotten the roll of adhesive. Now he resembled a spider sat in the centre of his sticky web, waiting for his prey to come to him.

The sticky tape that he had so successfully used to bring silence to the cockpit had adhered to each bulkhead in turn as the roll unwound and bounced around the cabin.

Alexander began pulling at the streamers, dismantling the web and balling up the lengths of tape. He rolled it all into a ball as he gazed out of the cockpit windscreen; his clear pale eyes stared back. He ran his hand through his dirty blond hair pushing back the curled ends from his eyes, it had gotten long again; it was almost to his shoulders at the back.

The asteroid field swarmed around him in a delicate ballet. Micro particles flared on his hull, drawn by the combined gravity of his flier and his asteroid shadow. Alexander was less than keen on the constant barrage to his force field and plotted an exit from the swarm. He headed to the north of the concentration to hold station and wait for the search programme to finish.

He released the tethers and threaded a path out of the asteroids. He found a point where he would have a bird’s eye view above the plane of the chaos.

Alexander looked out at the broiling mass of objects around him. At least this flier hadn’t made it any further. In two thousand years, only twice before, had anyone got past here. On both occasions the rogues had made it as far as the inner system and the far denser asteroid field which circled the inner boundary like a mad merry go round.

Of course that had been when his sensor net was still being seeded. Both times, the intruders had also sought sanctuary within the chaos and both had paid for their folly. The first had exploded in the field. It was struck by a rock hurtling faster than the others. The second was fatally compromised as the hull breached from the onslaught of micro particles. The occupants suffocated and froze.

Alexander had the grisly task of towing the dead ship and its silent cargo to the Oort cloud where he handed it over to the Vega patrol for them to return to its home port. The other took years to gather all the fragments. Even now he still found the occasional hull fragment or body part which had escaped detection. He hoped this time might be different. At least this rogue had only made it as far as the outer system, but he was in the heaviest concentration here, where the combined gravities of Neptune and Pluto fought each other for dominance.

He thought back to their namesakes; Neptune the raging god of the sea and Pluto the dark lord of the underworld. Just like them, these planets were brought together to fight a war neither could win; but they loved the fight and relished the chaos it wrought. It was always the attendant armies which faithfully orbited their paths which came together in a fatal clash of battle.

Alexander shook off the memories as the initial search beeped its completion. He expanded the data window to review the results: nothing.

This was going to take time, whatever tech the flier had Alexander would find it eventually. He could wait. The longer he waited, the more hopeless it would become for the rogue flier, or more precisely for its occupants, to survive. He could sit here for weeks or months, the rogue would run out of food or water or both long before that.

Alexander switched on the auto pilot and settled back in his seat. He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a battered, dog-eared book and flipped through the pages. There was no bookmark; he never needed one with this book. Alexander found his place and began to read.

Chapter 2: Statue

The Palace was quiet and empty. Brandai had never known it so quiet. When she stayed later than the other Apprentices after classes to study in the library, there was still the general hustle and bustle of the evening staff and the smells of dinner wafting throughout the halls.

Brandai had seen her friends off on the shuttle train. She had watched as most of the Palace staff had clambered aboard, shouting and cheering and already geeing themselves up for the semi-final which would start in two hours at the bridge. The rest of the staff had left a few minutes earlier, walking along the footpath which cut along the fields.

She had assured her friends that she would be there, but that she had some research to do and one of the histories to finish organising.

Her friends had climbed aboard the wood-carved carriage. It was shaped like a chariot. Edwin had run to the front and jumped on the wooden boar carved engine. Bevis, the Train Master, slapped his back in welcome grinning. Bevis let Edwin take the controls to drive the half-full train down to the docks where the additional chariot shaped carriages would soon be filled.

The train pulled away and Brandai's friends and fellow Apprentices cheered and chattered and waved as the excitement on the train mounted. Brandai watched them until the sound faded and then turned, clutching her book and papers to her chest and returned to the now silent palace.

Brandai stood in the grand entrance hall. The high vaulted ceiling made it feel like she was still outside. In the centre of the space was a magnificent eight foot high statue. She moved towards it gazing at the fine features of a handsome Lord dressed in millennia old garb. His hair cascaded down his back. He had a thick beard and a twinkle in his eyes.

A boar, with fine golden bristles, stood at his feet. In his hand he held a sword, still in its scabbard as if he were proffering it to someone. The plaque at the base read Yngvi-Frey of Alfheim.

This statue had been made by the ancestors. The ones who were sent back to Blotting by the Frey himself. It was said that this was a likeness he had adopted there, on the world they all went to, and Alfheim was the name given by the natives for where they came from.

Of course, they had come from here: the planet of Kalutiya, in the Akarana Galaxy.

Blotting was the Frey's royal estate. The village was part of the estate and housed those who served it. It had been a long time since he had been here; long before Brandai was born. And how long would it be before he returned? Every Alfar in Blotting wondered that.

Her eyes alighted on the scabbard, it was jewelled and glorious, and the finest work of the ancient Dokkalfar. They gave it as a gift to the Frey, and here, in this statue the Frey gifted it to Skirnir, his faithful Alfar servant, her ancestor.

Brandai took a step forward and leaned in closer, she was a hairs breath from the sword. She reached out gingerly, but could not touch it. The spell protecting the sword generated a field which felt like treacle. It resisted with such force that she could not even feel the surface of the scabbard.

Everyone believed that this was the real sword, the one of legend. They believed that it had been built into the statue as a place of honour and safe-keeping. The spell would only allow the official Sword Keeper to touch it and withdraw it from its resting place.

In time that would be Brandai’s role, but not yet. For now she was merely Garwald’s Apprentice, he was the current Sword Keeper.

Brandai stared at the Scabbard and the ornate etching in the metal. Her eyes drifted along its length to the only visible part of the sword itself; the hilt. Brandai knew, or at least she thought she knew that this was not the real sword; Garwald had at least confided that much to her.

The other Apprentices each seemed to hold so much more information on their family secrets. Brandai knew only that which she had studied as a student of the history of the village, her people and the Ancestors.

Every Apprentice considered their family secrets to be the most important, and yet it was the Sword Keeper, with the least to do, who ultimately would hold the key to the future of the village.

As she stared at the bejewelled and ornamented scabbard, embossed with great enchantments to the Frey, she wondered if Garwald was right. It was said that in the final battle when the sword was drawn in anger that it would fight the enemy of its own accord and that the one who wielded it must only maintain their grip. The Sword held the key to the final victory and its presence or lack thereof would determine the Fate of the Frey.

Brandai walked around the statue and took in all its features. She put her hand forward again, this time to touch the Boar at the Frey’s feet. His name was Gullin-Bursti. The bronze boar had the same features she had just seen pulling numerous chariot shaped carriages.

Edwin’s family had taken their name from this magnificent creature, his ancestors had been the ones who built it and then afterward cared for it. The Gullin’s were in the Gisleik Semi-Final today and Edwin would be playing.

Brandai reached forward to stroke the nose and a static charge began to ripple across the snout and her fingertips began to tingle. As her hand neared the tusks she fancied that she saw the chest rise and fall and hot breath snorted from its nostrils. Brandai was frozen in shock. Her hand poised, hovering so close to the golden bristles which gave him his name. She felt the static building.

The Boar suddenly lunged forward to snap at Brandai’s fingers.

The static charge burst at her like a lightning strike, throwing her backwards. Brandai was propelled across the polished floor. She fell onto her backside and was sliding on her skirts. She sat staring as she careened backwards with her arm still outstretched. Her mouth was open in a stunned expression.

As she slid Brandai realised her centre of gravity was off. She could feel herself tipping back. Brandai began flailing her arms like a windmill in an effort to stop her topple and at least remain in a seated slide. Her wild efforts to remain upright launched the papers she held in her arms into the air.

The papers flew and scattered across the wide foyer. Like leaves in a gust of wind they spiralled up and spread across the floor and landed in a scrambled mess. This was all to no avail as Brandai began her inexorable journey onto her back. As her shoulders touched the polished surface she found herself looking straight up at the ceiling. A bird was flapping its wings directly above her. Her brow furrowed as she stared in mute fascination trying to fathom where it had come from.

The bird had no detail. It was just the dark winged outline a child would draw. Then it dawned on her that the bird was actually the book she had been carrying and it was now falling, diving, to meet her stomach as she skidded along the ice like floor.

Brandai began frantically pedalling her legs in an attempt to gain some purchase. She tried to out pace the book or at least change direction out of its path. With her legs in the air she sailed across the floor flat on her back. Brandai’s skirts flung up revealing the frilly thigh length bloomers she wore underneath to keep out the chill Hodermas air, she was suddenly grateful for the fact that all the staff were gone and there was no one to see her secret fashion choices.

All her efforts were in vain. The book thudded onto her stomach causing Brandai to fold in the middle, winded. Her shoulders came off the floor as her knees drew up to her chest. Her shirt pulled up and her skirts shifted down leaving her bare back exposed to the shiny floor. Her back stuck fast, but her momentum propelled her onwards. Brandai’s skin squealed against the surface giving her a friction burn along her spine.

Instinct took over as the pain along her back shot through her. Brandai rolled onto her stomach to stop the traction. As she rolled, Brandai looked forward and saw the path before her. Though her speed had reduced, she was still heading towards a collision with the wall. She realised that she would now collide with it head on. She curled into a foetal position on her side, closed her eyes tight and waited for the inevitable crash.

Her shoulders connected with the wall first. She kept her chin tight to her chest and avoided a bang on the head. The friction burn on her back gained an impact bruise to go with it. This would have been much worse if her speed had not been slowed by the cause of the burn. The wall was at least smooth, sparing her an even more damaging halt. She blew out her breath and sagged into the floor.

Brandai took a moment to gather herself. She opened her eyes and stared across the twenty feet of polished floor she had just traversed. The proud boar stared back at her. She was convinced he was grinning.

She lay still and took in the scene before her. Her papers were scattered across the hall and her heart was thumping in her ears. As her breathing calmed and the thumping abated Brandai realised not all the thumps were coming from inside her head.

The shock subsided and Brandai focused on the thumps, were they heading towards her? Footsteps, she realised. Someone else had remained at the Palace. Brandai wondered who would still be here.

She scrambled to her feet. She did not want the embarrassment of being found crumpled by the wall, her skirts akimbo and her shirt pulled up. How would she explain what had happened anyway; she barely believed it