Free The Guardians of Sol by Spencer Kettenring Page B

the Europeans. Hm… They seem to be running a little hot for such a short trip,” Telamon pointed at the boxy new shuttle that was setting down. "I think I can see another transport in the distance as well. Probably Republic or Zulu. It’s too old to be from the Corporations."
    “I can barely see anything; maybe I should get one of those bionic eyes.”
    “Want me to poke one out for you?”
    “Eh, maybe next week,” Michael said. “Two-hundred credits say that Pendragon makes trouble within an hour.”
    “Now where is the gamble in that? Europeans are still as power hungry as they have been for the last few thousand years. They’ll probably do something tiring to get on the right side at the Emperor’s table. Because if there’s one thing Uther loves, it’s scoring minor and meaningless points,” Telamon considered something for a moment. “Three hundred credits that they ask for an honor duel or some such ridiculousness to establish their superiority. What say you?”
    “I think I’ll be taking that bet. Even Pendragon wouldn’t be so foolish to try to beat the best of his rivals’ forces at a supposedly peaceable meeting.” Michael stepped back and stretched. “I’m going to the garden; don’t see too many non-edible plants up on the Forge, yeah?” Telamon simply shrugged and followed his ‘leader’ out the apartment and down the stairs, where he promptly started napping on one of the garden benches.
    *****
    Almost an hour later, Takeda dropped by the gardens to retrieve the Guardians. He didn’t find what he expected. He carefully peeked around the corner, trying to make out the words from the raised voices.
    “… and I’m telling you that the Tigers have got the title next year!”
    “Are you going to start up with that again? Heck, they didn’t even take down any of the Tortoises or Falcons in their matches this year! How can you expect your team to compete against the champions after such failures?”
    “Come on… The Tigers had big mechanical issues that my engineers are already weeding out. My pilots are the cream of the Spartan crop, we’ll hit’em good next year. No leaky hydraulics are gonna stop us.”
    “You only say that because you’re so stubborn, if you didn’t own the team…” Michael turned suddenly to the doorway. “Well, come now lad, don’t be afraid. What’re you here for?
    Takeda tentatively stepped forward and bowed, “Honored Sirs, the Emperor asks for your presence in the court before supper may commence.”
    Michael returned the bow. “We’ll be down in a few moments, and yes, I do remember the way. Is there anything in particular that we’ll need to bring?”
    “You… may wish to have your bodyguards come in their armor… with their weapons, Sir.”
    “Weapons?” Michael looked at Telamon, who simply shrugged. “Fine, we’ll be there as soon as they have their armor back on. You may return to the Emperor now.”
    As the servant slunk away, Telamon turned back to his friend. “What do you make of that?”
    “Who knows? Better get the men ready.”
    “So, all of our weapons?”
    “All of them, spears, swords and shields. Maybe even daggers if you like it.” That seemed to make Telamon happy enough; Spartans always liked the chance to show off their toys.
    *****
    They came into the court from one of the side entrances. Inside, Uther Pendragon and his men were already waiting with the Emperor. Uther’s men were armored in plate mail, and each one had different details. One had a lion’s head crest, and the others included an eagle, ram, and wolf. In contrast, the Spartans and Samurai were attired more simply and almost identically, per their particular traditions.
    Michael and his Spartans bowed low to the Emperor. “What is this about? I thought we were going to be eating dinner soon,” the Sentinel questioned.
    “That was the original plan… However, Young Pendragon here has asked that the matters of honor be resolved beforehand. If