One hundred billion light years.
That's how long it takes to reach the greatest of all four quadrants, one of seven of the universe's great civilizations.
Even with warp speed, one would be hard pressed to reach the great galaxies. So much awaited in between; fate's worse than death.
Only one surefire way to reach it safely was through the Fourth Gate.
A gate bordering a starfield the size of multiple galaxies itself, a never-ending war between empires.
Four hundred and ninety three years.
Sindeous remembered every single one of them, since the day he took over as Lord Guard.
It was the last time he saw the old man, the last known member of his forsaken race.
Since then it was one battle after another.
It all seemed so long ago, he thought to himself while meditating atop the largest mountain on planet Modor.
On rare occasion he'd get visitors.
Brave souls seeking the fabled gate. Foolish souls seeking the fabled gate. Brave foolish souls seeking the fabled gate, it was never a coincidence one would just arrive on the old ancient world.
Fires burst, a Nova Fleet scout pod entering the atmosphere.
What brave fools were he to encounter today?
'Could be worth the trouble,' he hoped.
His silver robes swayed with the wind.
A mere gesture, and he darted from the mountain to the scrap yard.
Smoke rose, a little over a mile away.
His eyes ignited.
Several minutes passed, Sindeous taking the time to meditate between towers of rusty ships, weapons, armor, and droids.
They arrived wearing dark silver armor, something forged in withing a great star mine.
"Who's that?" One of them stuttered, a short wiry red-scaled lezzerling, raising a lazer rifle.
"Quiet," another whispered. "Keep your eyes peeled."
A fire insignia on their breast plates, they all had their helmets on, revealing their swollen nervous faces.
"You there!" The stern one called out. "We're scouts of the Nova Fleet, seeking refuge from those Red Rebel bastards. Know of a place we could lay low?"
Sindeous said nothing, examining the stern one.
Taller than the others on either side him, something was jolting in his veins. A fighter he was, a true warrior, one with a mastery of thunder.
"You are safe here, friends," Sindeous said, standing.
His full height made all but the stern one stagger back.
"Holy shit," the stuttering lezzering mumbled, raising his rifle, "he's gotta be-."
"Shut up Wing!" The stern one demanded, then spoke to Sindeous. "We're not safe here, friend. We need to reach the Fourth Quadrant. There's no hope for us to return to the fleet!"
"Driver," the calm one said, the lone human amongst the trio, looking up at the stern one, "that's him. That's the Lord Guardian you're speaking to."
Driver smiled. "Then we're in luck, Sarge."
Driver approached him, all muscle and lightning surging in his veins.
They were almost eye to eye when Driver's helmet deactivated, revealing his long blonde hair. A scar was on his throat, and along his right eye.
Fists balled, Driver said, almost demanding, "We'll be needing to get through that gate, my lord. Small scout party like us stands no chance out here alone."
"You're awfully powerful for a scout party," Sindeous said, folding his arms. "Does your command know you're here?"
Driver gasped, but held his tongue.
Wing muttered under his breath, scales stiff as ice.
Sarge answered, kneeling, "My lord, we are a small fighting force, in fact, we're a kill squad. We-."
"Enough!" Driver bellowed, raising a sparking palm at Sarge.
Sarge stiffened, blue bolts running along his armor, then fell face first into dirt.
Wing helped him up, and that seemed to anger Driver, who darted back to his squad.
"Idiot!" Driver barked, kicking Wing over, then spitting at Sarge. "Why the fuck'd you go telling him all that? Do you want to die out here?!"
"I can return you to your fleet safely," Sindeous offered, removing his hood. "Though, I believe that's not what a deserter would want, is it?
The trio gasped.
Driver stuttered, forcing himself to keep composure.
"Holy shit," Sarge said, getting himself to a knee. "It's true. You're one of them, that old long dead race. What were they called…"
"Fuck's it matter!" Driver shouted, clouds darkening the sky. "You're gonna open the fucking gate, and we're gonna be done with this gods forsaken war!"
Metal scraps skittered down the piles of rubble.
Thunder boomed, the sky ignited, and winds forced Wing and Sarge to crouch behind a nearby rusty fighter ship.
Driver smiled, eyes burning yellow. "Screw you! I don't care what you are, we've fought for too long for too little to turn back now!"
Sindeous shrugged. "Do as you must."
One step, and shockwaves erupted from Driver.
Sindeous side stepped, Driver leading with a fiery sparked fist.
The brute was faster than he expected. A flurry of fist grazed his silver robes, and the two were airborne after a few seconds.
Driver kept swinging, thunder erupting at every punch.
Sifting down, up, and around, Sindeous remained untouched.
"Motherfucker!" Driver growled, veins pulsing.
One blink, and the lighting master sparked into the sky.
Bolts crackled on either side of Sindeous.
It was beautiful. Such mastery of the element must've taken more than decades of training, but natural born talent.
Driver must've had angel blood in him.
It mattered little to an Alerion.
Lighting danced round SIndeous, everywhere he looked. Towers of metal within the scrapyard collapsed, forcing Wing a Sarge to retreat.
"Driver, stop this!" Sarge cried. "You'll destroy the planet at this rate, and the gate!"
Driver's voice was one with the storm, a chorus of thunder and wind.
"I don't think so! There's no escape from this storm, you blue bastard! I never miss!"
At last, Driver rode the lightning.
One bolt to another, a smile on his face, armor stripped from his waist up. Such speed, Wing nor Sarge could never hope to comprehend.
Upon leaping to another bolt, Driver pivoted towards Sindeous.
Sindeous cut him off, gut punching him stiff.
Driver spit up blood, and the storm fell silent.
"W-What?!" Driver gasped, coughing. "Just one punch? H-."
Sindeous slapped him to the ground.
"Holy shit!" Wing shouted, their great thunder bird twitching upon impact.
"He's fine, for now," Sindeous said, landing a few meters before them.
Clouds parted, revealing a great orange afternoon sun.
"Go," he threatened, turning away from them, "while I still let you."
A few steps forward, and he heard a rifle cock.
"I don't think so!" Wing snarled, a slithering black tongue with wide yellow eyes. "This isn't an ordinary lazer. It's an atomizer, and we save it for only the toughest freaks like you!"
'Atomizer? That could be a problem.'
Light shined within the rifle, and Sindeous could feel heat piercing his robes.
Wing spat, "Now! Tell us where it is, or I-."
A wave of his hand, and the atomizer flew to his palm.
Wing gasped, watching the rifle disintegrate to dust in his hands.
"S-son of a bitch!" The lezzerling said.
Sindeous rolled his eyes. "Watch your mouth."
Another wave of his hand, and he stripped them all of their armor.
Naked and ashamed, Driver too exhausted to even notice, Wing and Sarge begged for mercy.
"We meant no harm, well, er-Driver meant harm, but he's a brute, as you can see, my lord," Sarge pleaded, covering himself with a large enough scrap of metal.
Sindeous sighed, waving a hand and forcing an old flag of the Empire out from the rubble.
He split it up amongst the trio and sent them on their way.
Pitiful as it was, war forcing men to desperation, it was none of his concern.
For one hundred ninety-three years, the quarrels of mortals meant nothing to him.
Only the gate mattered.
Only the Order of the Guards mattered.
At least the day was somewhat eventful.