Warning -- If you're a prude, or live in a state where prudish people pass stupid laws, you might not want to read this story. There be gay people here. Sometimes violence too. If you can't handle that, too bad for you, go somewhere else. Everyone else...enjoy.
Once more, my thanks to Ed for his help.
Chapter 6 -- Destruction of a City
J'Stan and Adam stood over the remains of the last Shaper who had been part of the attack against Caledonia. Their militia uniforms, J'Stan's with a green armband indicating Medic, were ragged and filthy. The ashes of what had once been someone like them were being blown away by the gentle wind, a wind that no longer carried any noise of combat.
Their young faces were betrayed by the look of age-old pain in their eyes. Both of them hated what they'd done in the last few hours, but it had to be done. They'd managed to obliterate 32 of the attacking Shapers, and nearly been obliterated by an over-eager Guardian who had spotted them. Luckily for him, they'd realized who he was and only blocked his attack.
J'Stan rubbed his hand through his brown, wavy hair. Grime came out in his hand, and he laughed a little when Adam's hand turned his hair from soot colored to grayish blond. Adam looked at him a little irritated and flung the grime on his hand at J'Stan. The blob of gunk hit him in the face and both of them fell over laughing, arm in arm.
"I think these last few years did us some good," J'Stan said after they'd settled down from the laughing fit.
"Yeah, babe, they did," Adam agreed. "And I like being the blond for a change. We ought to do this more often. Say, once a century?"
"If we can get away with it, I agree."
"Time to get back to work, eh?"
"We are still Guardians, aren't we?" J'Stan asked rhetorically. As they'd done for ages, they concentrated for a moment and disappeared from the spot they were lying on. They reappeared on the front porch of the Ackeman home, and gasped at the sight.
The home was singed around the edges, but otherwise undamaged. However, every other home within a block was blasted rubble from the bombardment that had been focused here. A crew on the roof was erecting temporary antennas and the whole place was a beehive of activity.
"Halt!" a somewhat familiar voice from behind them called out.
J'Stan turned around and faced the voice. He could feel Adam turning with him. The owner of the voice was none other than the bully Zeran. He was pointing a hand blaster at them, the weapon shaking a little in his trembling hands. When he saw the face of the kid he'd known as James Ackeman, his own face went through a variety of emotions. It finally settled on open relief.
"Sorry," he said more gently. He holstered his weapon, and J'Stan noticed that his uniform was almost as gory as theirs, but there were no rips on it. "You better head inside. Last word they had was that your unit was obliterated."
"Thanks, Zeran," J'Stan said quietly. "I'm glad you made it through."
"After all I did to you?" the kid, no, young man said. "I got put here as part of the last reserve. We never got action directly, just them Guardians fighting. But afterwards they put me on burial detail. I, uhm, I'm sorry I treated you the way I did. I don't ever want to hurt someone again. Not after seeing the...things I did."
J'Stan felt tears in his eyes, and the part of him that had been bullied by this young man was weeping inside. He walked up to the former bully and wrapped him in a hug. Through Adam's eyes, he could see the astonishment, and relief that played over Zeran's face. As he pulled back, J'Stan pulled the green medic armband off his arm and handed it to Zeran.
"Earn this, I think you'll feel better putting people back together," J'Stan said quietly, letting Zeran believe that he was still James. He left the young man standing there, tears in his eyes, staring at the green armband in his hands. Together with Adam, he walked back onto the porch and opened the door.
The house was full of people in uniforms of various types, rushing from one area to the next. Knowing the dining room was the Command Center, the two of them made their way there. When they reached it, they stood for a moment taking in the sight of various computers, vid screens, power converters, and people coordinating the clean up efforts. Several screens showed wrecked airships of both sides resting on homes and other buildings. Every building over two stories had been leveled, and smoke rose from all over the city.
Looking very haggard, Tomas Ackeman stood over the dining room table that was now a holographic map of the area. He was issuing orders for fire fighting crews to be deployed to various areas. His wife Helen was standing at another station directing emergency medical services to various shelters. Standing in the middle of the room were three Guardians, two of whom J'Stan immediately recognized. He walked directly over to them and nodded to P'tel when the younger Guardian looked at him in surprise. He then turned to the other Guardian he recognized and spoke as authoritatively as this fifteen year old's body could muster.
"Guardian B'rel, report on the status of Ackeland. Was this the only attack?" J'Stan barked out.
Shock showed on all the faces in the room as his voice broke through all the other conversations. P'tel stared at him like he'd gone crazy, and B'rel had a look like he was trying to figure out if this kid was crazy. Helen and Tomas screamed out "James" and rushed to take him into great hugs. Finally B'rel sharpened his gaze on the boy as he reached out with his mind and felt a presence he knew well, but had missed over the last thousand years.
"J'Stan!" he breathed heavily, his voice still carrying throughout the room. Tomas and Helen stopped just short of him and stared between the figure they saw as their son and the Head of the Guardians.
"And Adam," J'Stan said, enjoying the surprise on everyone's faces. Adam moved up to take his place at J'Stan's side. Together they closed their eyes and shed the forms they'd worn, and grown up in over the last fifteen years. They resumed the forms that they'd been most known as. Something needed to be done before he continued his conversation with B'rel. He turned to Tomas and Helen, smiling at them gently.
"I'd like to thank you both for giving me such a wonderful childhood. My own parents died millennia ago, and I'd forgotten what it can be like to be loved the way you love me. I hope that you can understand, I don't mean to hurt you. If this attack had not happened, I'd have been very happy to continue growing up as your son."
Both of his surrogate parents blanched at his words, then tears filled their eyes. They moved forward together and wrapped arms around him. "You'll always be our son. I know I don't fully understand what's going on, but I trust you'll explain it more later," Tomas said quietly.
"Of course," J'Stan answered, returning their hugs. "Excuse me though, it's time for me to hear what's going on and see what B'rel wants me to do."
"Duty first," Helen said quietly, some mirth in her voice. "Whether it's James or J'Stan, you're most definitely an Ackeman."
"Please, feel free to call me James. I'm as much James as I am J'Stan," he told her.
"So," B'rel said as they moved apart. "It was the two of you who took out all those Shapers and troops. I wasn't sure who it was, but I was guessing you might have come back. I didn't expect to find you living as a teenager though."
"We both needed it," Adam said quietly, looking at his now black hair in a mirror and frowning at it. "We'd lost contact with the world around us and didn't see any purpose in continuing."
"We do now," J'Stan finished.
"Good, we need your help badly," B'rel said. Everyone in the room was still staring in shock at legends made flesh before them.
"Then, tell me what's up, grup," J'Stan said, not realizing his speech patterns were still closer to James than the millennia-old J'Stan.
The room filled with laughter at the slang term for grown-ups coming from the mouth of the oldest person in Ackeland. As the laughter died out, they turned back and continued where they'd left off in their work. Nodding at that, J'Stan motioned for B'rel and the others to follow him. He led them upstairs and opened his bedroom, which was empty at the moment. He closed the door behind him. B'rel took a moment and looked at the pictures spread around the room, and the academic trophies. He laughed at the picture of J'Stan and Adam sitting on their butts in the snow at Guardians' Valley.
"I love that place," he said to them.
"So do we," Adam said softly, holding J'Stan's hand again.
"It's where we met, after all," J'Stan said with a laugh.
"This must be why I felt that weird echo with you two, even though you tested negative for the gift," P'tel said excitedly.
"Exactly," J'Stan said. "We'll have to figure out a way around that if we ever do this again. I'll tell you one problem though. Now that we have removed the block on our original memories, I can now remember every single second of my life as James...including birth. I think I've figured out why memory doesn't usually go that far back."
"I agree there," Adam said with a shudder.
"So, what's up?" J'Stan said to B'rel, changing the subject before he got sick.
"I can't tell you how glad I am that you're back," B'rel said, his voice coming out in a rush. "It looks like we are under a major attack by the Shapers' Republic. This was just an opening move. There appears to be a bigger fleet preparing to move on New Phoenix. Just like you expected millennia ago, we're outnumbered two to one. Both by gifted and non-gifted. To make matters worse, we are woefully undermanned and untrained as far as a standing army."
"Has there been any indicator of what they're after?" Adam asked.
"They've left the general population here alone as much as possible," P'tel said quietly. "But Guardian or anyone in a uniform or leadership position is being vaped."
"Sounds like take-over to me," J'Stan said. "What's with this `god' business? Several of the Shapers we killed today seemed to think they were gods and ordered people to worship them."
"Bet that didn't go over well with you," B'rel said with a smirk.
"They're dead, if that's what you mean," J'Stan said curtly.
"Yes, I know," B'rel said, still smirking. "I know how much you hate the idea of people thinking about us as supernatural. Encouraging worship must really get your hackles up. It started about three centuries ago. I'm sorry, but I think your old friend D'vad really is insane now."
"He's aiming it at me," J'Stan said, his brain working overtime. "He knows how much I hate that idea and he's fostering it to let me know. Somehow he knew we came back."
"How long ago did you come back to earth, and where were you?" the strange Guardian said.
"Who are you?" Adam said by way of answer.
"Guardian C'ribdus," the stranger said.
"Is everyone using the damn abbreviation now?" J'Stan exclaimed in an exasperated tone.
"Yes," B'rel said, again smirking. "Imitation is the best form of flattery, you know. Besides, the people seem to like it more."
"Whatever," J'Stan said, deciding to move forward instead of dwelling on minor details. "Make a long story short, we went for a quick hop around the galaxy. We got back about three hundred years ago. Spent a couple of those as, let's see, a rock, a tree, a dog (don't recommend that one), and finally as a human child. The last was definitely the best."
"I don't know," Adam quipped, "I still like the feeling of our branches twining around each other."
The incredulous looks of all three Guardians in the room were well worth it. For a moment, it was obvious they didn't believe it, but finally all three just shrugged. J'Stan and Adam both smiled at them.
"So, B'rel, what's your plan of action?" J'Stan asked again.
"I don't have one," B'rel said simply, a look of despair creeping into his eyes. "I don't have any training to handle this kind of situation, and there's not enough time to learn. The cost is too high."
"So what do you expect me to do about it?" J'Stan asked shortly.
"Lead."
"No. I gave that up before you were born. I don't want the responsibility. You can do it."
"I can't. Look at what happened here. If you hadn't shown up, we would have lost here. I'm not a war leader. You are!" B'rel said heatedly
"GET OUT!" J'Stan roared at them, even blocking out Adam's mental voice that was trying to urge him to calm down. Adam left with them, and because he was blocking him out, he didn't know what Adam intended. The faces of the dead filled his mind as he sat on his bed, constantly returning to Curtis and Jason. That is what happened when he tried to lead in combat, or subterfuge.
He was so far gone in his misery, he didn't hear the door open, and Tomas come in. The man stood in the doorway for a moment, looking down at the man who'd been his son up until a few hours ago. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the bed and put his arm around the man. J'Stan's head came up out of his hands and stared for a moment.
"Son," Tomas said, his voice catching a bit. "Adam told me about your conversation with B'rel."
"So he sent you up here?" J'Stan said, his voice exactly like that of a fifteen year old.
"No, I came on my own, over his protest. Downstairs you said I was still your parent, and I think you need to hear what your dad has to say."
"I'm a little old to be grounded."
"Yes, you are. But you're not too old to be chewed out. You never will be. For almost two thousand years, Ackemans have acted as leaders for this land. We have done everything we could to protect and serve the people. Now, today, you are the only one with a prayer of leading us to victory. You have more knowledge of military matters, of war, than anyone else alive on our side. We need you. I've never been ashamed of you as my son, James. Do not make me ashamed of you as my son, J'Stan."
They sat there like that for almost half an hour before J'Stan looked at his father and said, "Ok, Dad, you win."
J'Stan sat behind the huge oak desk and settled himself for what he was about to do. He was dressed in a formal version of the Guardian's uniform. A brown jacket covered the white tunic of a Guardian, and on the sleeves were four gold bars indicating his age. Behind him, a view of the New Phoenix skyline filled a window. In front of him, a camera was prepared to beam his image out across the world. It was not just for Ackeland, but for others who might be listening as well. The little blue light came on and it was time to begin.
"Good afternoon, citizens of Ackeland. I am Guardian J'Stan, Head of the Guardians' Council and Senior Guardian of Ackeland. As you may have seen, the Ackeland Collegium met today and voted that a State of War exists between the Ackeland Confederation and the Shapers' Republic. They further voted to impose upon me the leadership of this war, and directed me to achieve victory.
"As you know, I have been gone from Ackeland for a long time. But for the last fifteen years, I enjoyed the pleasure, and pain, of living as a regular citizen of our country. Ackeland is not perfect. We all have problems. Yet, it is far better than the alternative of living under the rule of those who call themselves Shapers.
"During the battle for Caledonia, I learned that those who call themselves Shapers expect to be worshipped as gods. I find that revolting, as I'm sure many of you do too. Guardians have always used their gifts to support and defend the people, not to rule. Today we face a great threat to our way of life.
"This threat is not new. This division between those gifted who call themselves Shapers and those who call themselves Guardians has existed almost since we gained our existence millennia ago. In charging me with winning this war, the Collegium has granted me considerable power. I will use all the powers at my disposal, personal as well as governmental, to ensure that your way of life is preserved. When this crisis is over, all governmental powers invested in me shall be returned to the Collegium, and I shall resume my role as one Guardian of many.
"I cannot do this alone, though. Your help is needed. Volunteer for the Militia, for the Medical Corps, or any other way in which you can help. If fighting comes near you, take shelter, but do not lose hope. So long as one of us breathes, we will all fight for you. Together we will survive this crisis. Thank you."
J'Stan slumped in his chair as the blue light went out. Adam came from the side of the room and started massaging his shoulders as B'rel came to stand before the desk. While Adam relaxed J'Stan, B'rel considered what he'd say. He never got to say anything as an aide rushed into the room and announced that a transmission was being received from the Shapers' Republic. At J'Stan's order, it was routed to the office.
On the screen, the form of D'vad, who had once been David Baxter, appeared. He appeared little older, and was dressed in the uniform of a Shaper. A sneer filled his face as he looked at J'Stan.
"So, you finally screw up the courage to show your face," D'vad sneered. Adam's hand tensed on J'Stan's shoulder.
"D'vad, why? Why are you doing this? You helped found New Phoenix. Why would you be making war now?" J'Stan asked his old friend, ignoring the opening comment. Adam was there, in the back of his head. Providing the usual calming influence.
"Simple, really. You've been wrong all this time, J'Stan," D'vad responded as if talking to a young child. "We weren't given our abilities to serve, but to rule. I'm going to teach you the error of your ways and bring the Ackeland Confederation into the Republic. That way all those poor, misguided fools will benefit from our enlightened rule."
"There's better ways to teach me the `errors of my ways', D'vad. If it's me you want, that can be arranged without thousands of people dying."
"Ha!" D'vad sneered again. "You are worried about people dying? I admit, having you surrender will save a lot of lives. Why don't you just surrender yourself and all those people, murderer?"
"Myself, I can. If it would do any good," J'Stan said quietly. "But I will never surrender Ackeland. As for the epithet of murderer, I might remind you that you were the one who wiped out nearly a million people on all of the colonies."
"That had to be done, they were becoming impure. Besides, you needed to learn you weren't unbeatable. I've won against you once, now you're going to learn again that I'm better than you."
"That remains to be seen," J'Stan said as he pushed the button to end the transmission.
He turned to face his inner council, which included Adam, B'rel, P'tel, and the General in charge of the armed forces, Maxim Ackeman. His sigh let them know he was upset by the conversation, but they smiled at him confidently. Another button turned the top of his desk to a holographic map showing the disposition of their forces, and reported positions of the Shapers' Republic forces.
The next half hour saw some redeployments based on updated reports, and one trouble spot was noted. Several scout ships to the southwest of the mainland had been lost. They could have been destroyed by pickets from the main Shaper force, or by another force in that area. So far, no reports had been received of deployment by the Southern Alliance. That was the only good news.
The attack was imminent, the next few days most likely. They'd spent a lot of the time making their deployments and rushing training on hordes of new volunteers. The situation was still grim, though. Guardians had been deployed throughout the army, and the group at headquarters stood ready to augment the one hundred and fifteen deployed. The remainder of the Guardians were spread out among the rest of Ackeland in case an attack happened elsewhere.
Realizing the non-gifted among them needed rest, J'Stan ended the meeting and went with Adam to review some of the troops along the front lines. Plans had been made, including the plans to be implemented when the first set failed. It was an old axiom that plans never survived the first engagement, and J'Stan meant to be as prepared as possible.
The first unit he visited was led by a veteran of the fighting in Caledonia. There'd not been many survivors, and those that there were all had haunted visions in their eyes. But, their units were among the best prepared. So they were on the front lines. This unit was spread out over the main beach, the likely landing point for the Shaper Airships. J'Stan and Adam both wore their formal uniforms and provided a great deal of resolve for their scared troops.
They'd just reached the middle of the lines when the air along the beach shimmered. Five men appeared, dressed in the uniforms of Shapers. Each was spaced about five hundred feet apart. Before anyone on the Ackeland side could respond, the earth erupted in front of them. With a rolling motion, the line of erupting earth proceeded up the beach towards the Ackeland soldiers, being augmented by a sheet of flame.
Screams of fear erupted from the Ackeland lines, and several of the troopers ran for safety. J'Stan and Adam turned as one unit and put a stop to the movement of the erupting earth and flame. They took control of it and began to push it back towards the Shapers on the beach. At the same time, J'Stan reached out and seized the mind of the Shaper in the middle, turning him into a vegetable within seconds. The other four Shapers disappeared and a cheer rose up from the ranks. Those who had started to run headed back to their positions, and J'Stan left orders for them not to be punished.
He returned to the command center in New Phoenix to find his staff already assembled. B'rel reported similar attacks all along the coastline, many with heavy losses. The location where J'Stan and Adam had been was the only one not to suffer a loss. To make matters worse, four Guardians had died, while only two Shapers were eliminated.
"They're softening us up, like a naval bombardment before landing troops," J'Stan said at last.
"I can see that," B'rel said.
"What do we do about it?" General Maxim Ackeman asked, a tinge of anxiety in his voice.
"You? Nothing," J'Stan said grimly. "Guardians? Everything."
"In every encounter so far, they've outnumbered us!" P'tel whined.
"Numbers don't mean anything to me," J'Stan said. "Which is why Adam and I are going to lead strike teams against them. They're probably launching from the ships here at their main fleet. General, I'm going to take the Swiftsure. She's the fastest airship in our fleet. P'tel, you along with F'lip, P'laran, B'stac, and G'kad will accompany us. Your main duties will be to protect the Swiftsure while Adam and I conduct the strikes. B'rel, you and General Ackeman will coordinate defenses from here. Send updated information to the Swiftsure as soon as you get them. Let's move, people!"
P'tel summoned the named Guardians, who showed immediately. J'Stan quickly explained their orders and linked with them for the jump to the Swiftsure. When they arrived moments later, he explained his orders to the startled captain who stared at him with incredulousness showing wide on his face.
"My one ship against their whole fleet?" he finally stammered out.
"No, J'Stan and Adam Morgan against all the Shapers in their fleet," J'Stan corrected him. "All you need to do is get within line of sight of a ship. We'll teleport from there. P'tel will provide a homing beacon for us to come back to, and will handle offense against any pursuit. The rest of the Guardians here will defend your ship. Trust me, they can handle any attack you will face while Adam and I create chaos among their forces."
"Aye, aye, sir," the captain said at last, his voice and face conveying his doubts.
J'Stan didn't care about the man's doubts at that point, as long as he did his job well. That is all that mattered. Mentally, he and Adam both steeled themselves for the amount of death they were about to cause. Neither liked killing, and this was likely to be a slaughter. A lot of ungifted were about to die, as well as a lot of Shapers.
The ship was already near the enemy fleet, and under the captain's direction, made good speed towards them. Within a few hours, the lookouts reported sighting of several masts from Shaper airships. Following their typical pattern of late, the Swiftsure angled off to make an oblique approach. This would let them get closer, see as much as possible, then get away without being intercepted.
As expected, the Shaper ships split up to box them in. A startled cry from the aft lookout indicated that the enemy had managed to flank them with some more ships. The captain's grim smile towards J'Stan gave a clear message on what he thought his chances were. The four Guardians assigned to defense were already linked, and prepared to raise a shield around their airship. The Guardian assigned to the ship for normal operations was feeding power to the sails to keep them moving, and P'tel was setting up the homing link to guide J'Stan and Adam back.
One of the ships got close enough to open fire. The Shaper onboard was adding his power to the attack, and the shield from the four Guardians sprang into being mere seconds before the attack hit. At the same moment as the shield came up, P'tel joined his response of fire to the blaster cannons firing from the Swiftsure at their attacker. J'Stan and Adam chose that moment to teleport over to the attacker. The shield holding around the ship slowed them down for a moment, but they shredded it on their arrival.
Fire from the Swiftsure started hitting the metal and wood hull, setting it ablaze. This ship had two Shapers on it, standing on the raised stern while J'Stan and Adam each chose one and attacked. Their preferred, and most effective, attack against the gifted was a physical attack. Adam chose fire, which sprang up around his target. His target was shielded, but Adam pushed the attack until the shield was hard pressed. Then he reached out with his mind and ripped it apart, leaving the Shaper a mindless vegetable. Then the fire consumed the body, turning it to ash.
Beside him, J'Stan chose a vise of power around his target, with the same ultimate results. Explosions now rocked the ship as fire from the Swiftsure hit home hard. Another thought took the two of them back aboard their ship. The captain was giving orders to head out of the trap by the hole created with the loss of the Shaper ship. However, he made sure that the nearest enemy ship would be able to get within weapons range before they escaped.
Within another few minutes, the second Shaper ship, and the two Shapers on it, was falling from the sky into the sea far below. The remaining ships grouped together and made a run on the Swiftsure. Within a half hour, all eight ships were gone, and with them twelve Shapers (not every ship had two of them). The enemy had no survivors, and the only casualty on the Swiftsure came when a Shaper blast had penetrated the shield and struck a sailor in the leg. Adam was growing the man a new leg at the moment, while J'Stan worked with the Guardians to improve their abilities.
The captain was following orders, cheerfully now, to hunt out more targets. It wasn't long before the Shaper forces obliged him by sending out a squadron of fifteen ships to hunt them down. By the time the sun set, and J'Stan agreed to let the ship weigh air anchor and give the human crew a rest, all fifteen had joined their fellows on the ocean surface. Added to that, 38 Shapers were now dead. While the crew rested, J'Stan left Adam there in charge and went back to see how things were going in Command.
B'rel was still there, working as hard as usual. A Guardian along the northern edge of the lines had come up with a plan that was working. Several Guardians now created images of soldiers manning the front lines while the real soldiers were moved back several miles. When the Shapers attacked the lines, the Guardians there would drop the image and attack the Shapers directly. No longer burdened by having to defend real troops, their counterattacks were taking their toll on the Shaper ranks.
The real troops would flow back to their positions after an attack. Sometimes. Other times there would just be new illusions created. By sunset, the attackers didn't seem to be able to tell real troops from illusions. No more attacks seemed to be forthcoming in that manner.
Meanwhile, the fleet of airships had made great use of J'Stan's one ship fight. The reinforcements sent after the Swiftsure had created a small hope which 10 Ackeland ships had made good use of. They'd actually managed to sneak in among the main formation and destroyed eighteen troop transports, each with four thousand troops onboard. The fight out of there had resulted in the loss of three of the ships, with the destruction of four more Shaper warships.
General Maxim Ackeman was summoned, and J'Stan took most of the evening to discuss revisions to his plans with B'rel and the General. The three of them keyed in the changes to the overall plan and set about issuing the orders necessary to implement those changes. As night took over from evening, J'Stan took his leave of his chief advisors and returned to Adam.
With only a short warning to P'tel, they changed their forms to that of birds and winged off in the direction of the Shaper fleet. They managed to get close enough to the fleet to see it hanging there in the air, at anchor for the night. Now it was time for psychological warfare.
Hovering in bird form in front of the fleet, they rehearsed their speech and stifled bouts of bird laughter at what they were about to do. A mental blast of energy caused alarms to go off on every ship in the Shaper fleet, and another blast (of light this time) drew the eyes of thousands to where they were. At that moment, they released their bird forms and took the planned shapes.
Over two thousand feet tall, floating above the ocean, stood J'Stan and Adam. They were dressed in the formal uniform of the Guardians, immaculately fitted to show tight, well-developed bodies. J'Stan had long, blond hair which glowed a golden color and was fanned gently by an unfelt wind. Adam's midnight black hair also was long and streamed behind him in the unfelt wind, but he had added sparks of fire flaring along it every few seconds. Both men held flaming swords a thousand feet long in their right hands and held their left arms straight out, palms up in the ancient gesture of ordering someone to stop.
"Come no farther to Ackeland!" their voices boomed over the ocean as one. Glass shattered and men covered their ears at the sound. "Your false gods are leading you to your doom. Ackeland is under the protection of the Guardians. To approach further is to invite death as your only reward. You are Warned!"
As they finished, a great light surrounded them, and when it was gone, so were they. They reappeared back aboard the Swiftsure, laughing as hard as possible. P'tel and the other Guardians stared at them strangely until they shared exactly what they had.done Then everyone got a good laugh.
The rest of the night passed quietly. As false dawn filled the sky, the Swiftsure moved out to the arranged rendezvous point. There they met up with a squadron of five more airships. Each had a three-Guardian detachment on board and was there to make their next attacks appear more serious. For once, having fewer ships and fewer Guardians was proving an asset. It allowed them to concentrate their forces more, and conduct deadly hit-and-run attacks. Guerrilla tactics J'Stan had learned from a military force long since abandoned.
The action that day was heavy. Larger and larger squadrons were deployed against them. Several times the six-ship group led by J'Stan almost foundered. Instead of the one or two Shapers per ship they saw the day before, there were now three or four each time. The only effect that had was that it now took them longer to destroy each aggressor ship.
As the sun once more crept down the sky, J'Stan pulled his squadron further away from the Shaper fleet. The enemy's progress had been slowed to a crawl by their hit-and-run attacks, so they were still a few days out from the Ackeland shoreline. Another visit that night by J'Stan and Adam was accented by them setting fire to the lead ship of the Shaper Fleet.
The next morning the Shaper fleet stayed where it was. They didn't move from their anchor points, and J'Stan felt hope rise in him. He was sick to his stomach over the deaths he'd caused so far. Fifty-eight Shapers were dead, as were about fifteen thousand ungifted humans. Together, he and Adam were tired and resenting the fact that their `vacation' as teenagers had been halted.
An hour after dawn, J'Stan had kept his squadron just out of visual range of the enemy fleet. A quick conference with the captains assembled there had shown agreement in waiting to see what was developing. It was at that moment that a communiqu was received from New Phoenix. B'rel requested J'Stan's return to accept an incoming call from the Shapers' Republic. He left Adam in charge of the squadron and returned immediately.
He appeared in a corner of the office that he'd taken over. Behind him, the view of the New Phoenix skyline was obscured by a storm passing through the area. B'rel stood behind his desk and immediately motioned him over. J'Stan sat at his desk and composed himself for the camera to activate. The blue light came on over it, and a hologram appeared above it of the familiar face of D'vad.
"J'Stan, I must complement you on your skills at naval combat," he said curtly.
"D'vad. I would have thought you'd have known better than to try to attack Ackeland like this. I don't enjoy having to kill so many people, and I resent that you have forced this. Are you ready to end hostilities?" J'Stan said, forcing his voice to be even.
"Yes," D'vad said, contempt in his voice. "We are prepared to accept your surrender immediately and unconditionally."
"I think you've lost it, old friend," J'Stan said, the widening of his eyes showing his surprise at the demand. "Your forces won't get near Ackeland until they're significantly weakened. You've already lost at least 120 of your Shapers, and tens of thousands of troops. Our losses compared to that our insignificant. Why should we surrender?"
"Because if you don't, I'll be forced to consider weapons of mass destruction," D'vad said quietly.
"You wouldn't dare!" J'Stan nearly screamed, slapping the desktop with his hand. "If you unleash the mist again, here on earth, you could destroy all life, including your own peoples!"
"I'm not talking about the mists, J'Stan," D'vad said with a sickly smile. "Although I must say it's nice to see you afraid of something."
"Then what?" J'Stan said, unsure if he wanted to hear it.
"Simple, watch," D'vad said, and the image changed to show a Shaper airship. The camera was on the stern of the ship, and showed the whole deck, upon which a missile sat. The ship was over land and J'Stan thought the mountain ranges it was headed for looked somewhat familiar.
"I believe you should recognize the place you called home for the past few years?" D'vad said condescendingly. "This is what will happen to all of your major cities unless you surrender."
As he said that, the missile leaped off the deck with a roar through the camera. Smoke obscured the view until a bright flash filled the screen. Moments later, the camera stopped transmitting as the shock wave hit. D'vad's visage replaced the scene of destruction.
"Surrender now, boy," D'vad said coldly.
"You of all people should remember the principal of MAD," J'Stan said coldly. His fingers ran quickly over the small control board for his desk's holographic display. He quickly studied the view, making his choices.
"Mutual Assured Destruction?" D'vad laughed. "A cold war principle dead for over 2 millennia. You don't have nukes; you don't have ships in position to launch point blank attacks. I do."
"Who needs nukes to make nuclear explosions, D'vad?" J'Stan said coldly. His eyes closed for a moment as he concentrated on creating uncontrolled nuclear fusion reactions over two cities in the Shapers' Republic. Was it his imagination or did he hear the screams of the estimated five million people that populated those cities?
Commotion could be heard coming from D'vad's side of the transmission. Finally a voice shouted off-screen, "Confirmed, my lord! Presira and Colingrod are gone. Observers report mushroom clouds over where the cities used to be."
"How dare you!" D'vad spluttered, spit flying from his mouth. "You will pay for this!"
"I already have," J'Stan said quietly. "Unlike you, I still have a conscience. I propose a truce while we meet to discuss peace. Please, D'vad, let the fighting end."
"Where do you propose to meet?" D'vad said sullenly.
"Guardians' Valley. I assume you are familiar with it?" J'Stan said, knowing what effect that would have.
"Our old home, you are cruel to bring back Henry's memory like that. You just reminded me of why you are so wrong," D'vad said quietly.
"I had hoped to remind you of who you used to be," J'Stan said.
"All it does is bring me pain, but I agree," D'vad said quietly.
"Remember the terms of a truce. No movement of forces except to withdraw from enemy territory. No re-supply except for food and medicine. I'm sure you remember them," J'Stan said in a warning tone.
"Truce agreed for the duration of the Peace Conference at Guardians' Valley,." D'vad said and the transmission ended.
As soon as the transmission ended, J'Stan slumped in his chair and let his grief flow. His new family was dead at the hands of an old friend. Five million more deaths on his hands. Adam tried to comfort him through the bond, but it was to no avail. He would meet with D'vad, then end this. He was too tired. Adam appeared out of thin air, distress on his face, but was stopped short by B'rel moving to J'Stan's side.
"J'Stan, I've got good news," B'rel said, barely sparing a look for Adam.
"I could use some, now. I never should have assumed this responsibility. I always make bad decisions," J'Stan said quietly, the sound of defeat in his voice.
"D'vad made one mistake in his transmission. As soon as he mentioned Caledonia, I mentally contacted C'ribdus and warned him to put a shield up. His shield held. Most of the remains of Caledonia are still there," B'rel said, a smile on his face.
"Is his shield still up?" Adam said, gleaning the immediate danger from J'Stan's memory. J'Stan was too unstable mentally to ask what needed to be asked.
"Yes, I wasn't sure if that was the only attack, but I can tell him to take it down now," B'rel answered.
"NO!" both J'Stan and Adam shouted as one. J'Stan looked at Adam and thoughts passed instantaneously between them. Adam winked out, heading to Caledonia to take care of the danger.
"Radiation persists after a nuclear blast like that," J'Stan explained slowly. "It's an old weapon, enough of them would destroy the world. Radiation is an invisible danger, something like light waves, that damages living tissue. The shield should protect them for a bit, and Adam knows how to clean it up as much as possible. At least so it's safe."
"Oh, so what now?" B'rel asked.
"I want you to head to Guardians' Valley. Get it ready for the peace conference. Assign someone to deal with whomever D'vad designates to make arrangements. Anytime starting tomorrow, but not more than 3 days from now is fine to start the actual conference. Assign P'tel command of the squadron Adam left, tell him to continue monitoring but do not fire unless fired upon. If he is fired upon, get as many ships as he can back to the main fleet units. Issue the cease fire orders for all units. Also get some ships searching near major cities for more ships like the one that launched the attack on Caledonia. If they find them, warn the ships to leave and escort them out."
"If they don't leave?" B'rel asked nervously.
"Destroy them."
"What about the truce?" B'rel asked, his nervousness magnified.
"If the truce doesn't work out, those will be the first weapons used. I don't want them to exist, do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good, then carry on, B'rel," J'Stan said. As the man left, he sat back in his chair and let the tears flow. Some were in relief that his family was still alive, the rest were in grief at the families he had obliterated.
The time for the conference had arrived. J'Stan stood on the same spot where, as James, he had met Mark for the first time. A slight smile was on his face as he looked out and remembered that moment. The sweet innocent joys of youth welled up in him and for a moment, the cares of half the world faded away. The sounds of someone approaching behind him warned him that he was no longer alone.
"Hello, Justin," a voice from behind said.
"Hello, David," he responded without turning around.
"I remember now why I loved this place. You should have let us die up here."
"My life is full of mistakes."
"Why continue to make them? Why not just give it up?"
"Because of what someone I love very much said to me when I first met him. `We have these abilities. What kind of people would we be if we didn't use them to help people?' I've never forgotten those words, or the principles that man lived by. Too bad the love of his life did."
"Henry was a fool about some things," D'vad said coldly.
"Shall we begin these talks?" J'Stan said, turning around now that the tears would no longer show on his face.
The first day of talks made little progress. Both sides put out proposals that were unacceptable to the other. By the third day, J'Stan began to get the feeling D'vad was stalling. He had B'rel keep in close contact with the armed forces monitoring the enemy units, but there wasn't anything even suspicious going on. All the missile armed ships had been found, and left Ackeland space without a shot being fired.
The fourth day revealed what J'Stan had missed. A Southern Alliance fleet had sailed a circuitous route and managed to launch an all-out attack on New Phoenix. Due to the terms of the truce, J'Stan couldn't move his fleets from where they were watching the Shaper fleets, and the Shaper fleets sat there without taking any action. The only forces available to defend New Phoenix were those stationed there. The battle lasted for most of the day, but New Phoenix fell to the Southern Alliance.
Word came the next morning that they had evacuated all the citizens into holding pens on the outskirts of the city. Then they'd razed it to the ground, leaving land that would never grow anything again. J'Stan felt a pang of loss as he realized that the small home he and Adam had lived in, and had still stood (except now it was a museum), was gone forever. Later that day, the Southern Alliance representative called to request a place at the table for the Peace Talks.
Adam returned in time for the recommencement of the talks, with the Southern Alliance at the table. Caledonia was as clean as he could make it, and B'rel was needed to handle matters around the remains of New Phoenix. The Southern Alliance had stated their intention to not provide food or shelter for the survivors, but had allowed Ackeland to provide emergency relief.
J'Stan sat with Adam next to him at the three-sided table. Across from him, D'vad sat with an assistant named Charles Hiforth. The newest additions to the table were the two Southerners. One was Bester, the other was a stranger named Markin Payne. When they had all sat down, J'Stan turned towards Bester.
"I would have thought that the Southern Alliance would have stayed out of this affair. After all we didn't attack anyone. We were attacked," he said to his old acquaintance.
"You are danger to civilized society, mate," Bester said seriously. "We were going to stay out of it until you obliterated those two cities. You already caused massive damage to my lands thousands of years ago, I'm not going to let you get away with it again."
"I have no intention..." J'Stan began, but was cut off by D'vad.
"We don't know what your intentions are concerning anything. You're a wildcard," D'vad said gently.
The gentleness in the man's tone scared J'Stan more than anything else. Adam was on edge, too. Neither of them had any idea where to go from here.
"Likewise, we have no idea what you're going to do either," Adam said after a moment.
"So, the little one does remember his voice," Bester said condescendingly. "You really should have taken me up on my offer. You would have fared better with me."
"Don't think so, bud," Adam said with a snort. Nothing would ever change his love for J'Stan.
"Why don't we discuss what needs to be done in order for there to be peace?" J'Stan said crossly.
"We are," D'vad and Bester said together.
"What do you mean?" Adam said, uncertainty in his voice.
"The two of you are what is needed for peace to happen," D'vad said, his voice ringing in the small room. "We want the two of you out of the picture. In return we promise that neither the Shapers' Republic or Southern Alliance will ever take any hostile action towards Ackeland."
"Unless we are attacked first," Bester added.
"You want us to do what?!" Adam exclaimed.
"Kill yourselves, or leave the solar system forever," Bester explained.
"No!" J'Stan said. "We can't trust either of you anymore. We do this, we have no way of knowing you will keep your word."
"Then suggest something that would serve the same purpose," D'vad said, his tone indicating his confidence that nothing else would do.
"Let's recess while we think about it," J'Stan said after a few moments.
Hours later, a meeting was held in the Ackeman lodge. J'Stan was there with Adam. B'rel had been summoned from New Phoenix, and C'ribdus had brought Tomas and Helen Ackeman. The dining room they met in was beautiful, and held many happy memories for most of the people there.
"We have an idea on how to meet the terms being offered," J'Stan said when everyone was sitting down at the table.
"Let's hear it," B'rel said gruffly. He was worn out from the efforts at helping the refugees of New Phoenix.
"It's simple really, and this location gave us the idea," Adam began. "We've pretty much explored space, and the idea of doing it forever is not too appealing."
"And death will mean that we can never help if they break the Treaty," J'Stan added.
"Which is why something else is needed," Tomas said sharply.
"When we first met here, a year ago, we did not know who we really were," J'Stan said, giving them the first part of his idea for a solution.
"But you remembered when Mark, I mean Adam, was in danger," Helen commented.
"True, but that was one of the triggers we built into the memory block," Adam informed her.
"So, what, you guys resume those identities and live here? How long will that last? Fifty or sixty years?" C'ribdus asked.
"We won't set it up the same way this time," J'Stan explained. "We'll set ourselves up at the age of 15 to start with. Arrange for us to have jobs here each year. The limits will be the mountain range and the lake. We'll never be able to travel farther than that, or even know that these are the limits. When we reach the age of 18, we'll start over. Set it for the end of the snow season, before the beginning of summer."
"When we hit 18, we'll revert to 14, not only in age but in memory as well," Adam continued. "Our names will change, we'll remember nothing else but our lives here and some vague background stuff. We'll need people to be our family. I'd prefer Ackemans to fill that role. The responsibility can trade off every couple of years, cycle it through the relatives."
"Only B'rel will have the key to unlock our memories. Neither of us will be able to do so, unless attacked by someone with the gift," J'Stan concluded. "If the treaty stays unbroken, we'll stay like this for an eternity, ever ready to return to the service of Ackeland if it becomes necessary."
"Personally, I don't think it'll go for more than a few centuries before someone breaks the Treaty," Adam said in closing. "But if we're wrong. Well, we get to be together.
"You don't think they'll go for this, do you?" B'rel asked.
"Easy," J'Stan said with a short laugh. "We tell him it's this or we keep fighting until there is no world left. My biggest concern is that you, B'rel, stay alive so long as we are here. If you ever die, we will have no way out."
"I'm more concerned about assassination attempts," Tomas said. "All they have to do is get a normal, ungifted person to push you off a cliff and you're done for."
"That's a risk we'll have to take, and Ackeland will have to guard against," J'Stan said.
"Let's give it a shot," B'rel said. "I doubt they'll say yes."
For ages, visitors to Guardians' Valley reported seeing a young male couple. Sometimes they were barely fourteen or fifteen, sometimes as old as eighteen, on the verge of adulthood. They were always happy, always together. They often taught classes in the art of skiing, or snowboarding, pastimes of the rich and famous. Guardians often came and spoke to them, but they rarely remembered such honor for long.
For five thousand years, they have kept the peace in their happiness. For five thousand years they reveled in each other's company while the world around them went on and on. They knew little about the world outside their mountain and lake, just the great natural beauty that surrounded them.