Free The Guardians of Sol by Spencer Kettenring Page A

up so we both could see it. “Once it gets moving it’s a lot like the great axes they had us practice with in the academy, except it crushes instead of cuts. My squad’ll be a real terror with these, even if that… destructive harmonics… thing… doesn’t work.”
    “It’ll work. I can almost guarantee that.”
    “Is that right?”
    “I’ll work on them myself. Well, yours at least. Ruiz has been talking about splitting up the work.”
    “Well that’s wonderful news, sweetheart. So tell me, are you ready for a little lunch?”

8
    June 10, 2289. Sol System, Kyoto Japan
     
    As the shuttle’s ramp lowered onto the landing field, Telamon was glad that his helmet hid his face. The Emperor’s city was beautiful, a study in both elegance and humility – on the outside. Even after all the times he’d been there as part of Michael’s bodyguard, it never failed to stir something in him.
    He really couldn’t help but stare at the ancient buildings, with their curving lines, white-washed walls, and slate blue rooftops. For the Spartans, the city was a major upgrade from the shine and glamour of Tokyo’s glittering, crystal buildings. Where Tokyo was a monument to the progress of technology, Kyoto represented the glory and elegance of the past.
    Telamon took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Michael. Military men, they both hated politics, but some things had to be done. Michael shrugged, and seemed to don that ‘leader’ mantle he had worked so hard over the years to perfect. He started down the ramp to the receiving party, Telamon and three other Spartans following in their ceremonial armor.
    Once again, Telamon felt great appreciation for the face obscuring qualities of his helmet - the Emperor himself had come to meet them! He was even more surprised at how old the man seemed to have gotten over the last few years. Telamon knew that the Emperor was pushing two hundred… but still, he looked so frail. The Spartan had always known him as vital and energetic, with a wicked sense of humor. It was a shame. The man, arguably the most powerful in the world, simply looked small swathed in the thick, rich robes of his position. The Samurai flanking him were clad in the armor of this Emperor’s household. The color of it, purest white and cobalt blue, matched those of the Emperor’s robes.
    The Sentinel stopped in front of his counterpart, and bowed deeply. Then in perfect Japanese, “You honor us with your presence, old Friend.” The Spartans followed suit, bowing even lower than their leader. Telamon grimaced; he really hated this kind of ceremony. Spartans never bowed to anyone… which had caused Michael to have a rather large battle with Telamon a few years back to get them to acquiesce. The Spartan still had the scars.
    “Not so old as you would seem to think, young Michael,” The Emperor, who bowed just as much as the Sentinel. His Samurai bodyguards copied the Spartans perfectly, as was proper. “Now, if you’ll follow my attendant, he’ll lead you to your rooms until it is time for all of us to dine. I must wait for the young King Pendragon, who is due to land in a few moments.”
    The aforementioned attendant, who introduced himself as “Takeda,” seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Telamon noticed that Arkadios jumped slightly. Young men, they sure didn’t make them like they used to. Granted, the man was well over thirty… but who didn’t think of people half their age as young? He was sure that the other Spartans had noticed that smallest of flinches as well, Telamon chuckled to himself; Arkadios was really going to get a ribbing when they arrived in the privacy of their rooms.
    *****
    Michael and Telamon stood on the balcony of their rich estate rooms, the other Spartans lounging uncomfortably on the rich furniture inside. They were overlooking a beautiful garden, filled with dozens of different exotic flowers and trees. In the distance, the landing field was barely visible.
    “Here come