Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  “But, Lieutenant—”

  “Sir, your safety is my mission objective. End of story.”

  “I understand.”

  “Dutch,” Magnus said.

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  “You seem to like that armory.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  “Outfit everyone with a blaster then help me fortify the cargo bay for optimal cover.”

  “Copy that.”

  “All hands,” Magnus said in a full voice, “prepare to be boarded.”

  24

  For the first time since the attack on the mwadim’s palace, hope had returned to Awen—not enough to dissuade her from leaving the Order but enough to make her see this last thing through. After all, no one in three generations had discovered a new race. And beyond that, she didn’t know of anyone discovering life in another universe.

  Awen had her doubts, of course. The whole thing could be a scheme, someone’s idea of a grand joke. But based on how many people had died for this stardrive and the lengths her master—the traitor—had gone to for its acquisition, she very much doubted this was a joke.

  A new world in a new universe. She tried to drift off to sleep for the first time in days. Suddenly, all the pain she’d endured felt worth something. It was not all in vain if it meant making the cultural discovery of the century. Maybe even the cultural discovery of the millennium.

  She began to wonder what this new planet looked like, what color its star was. Then she wondered if the other universe’s model of physics even behaved like her universe’s. For all she knew, Geronimo Nine would cease to exist the moment it crossed the quantum tunnel’s event horizon.

  But that didn’t seem likely. Why go to so much trouble to contact another universe only to invite visitors to their instant deatomization? She opened her eyes in the darkness. A hostile species might do that. Plus, no one would ever survive long enough to report back, so it would be effective. Diabolical, but effective.

  “No,” she said out loud and readjusted her pillow. “That’s not going to happen.” At least she hoped it wasn’t. A race advanced enough to communicate beyond the limitations of space-time surely wouldn’t be hell-bent on annihilating extra-local species without even meeting them. Plus, TO-96 seemed to have the physics worked out in that strange head of his—at least in theory.

  Awen suddenly felt a wave of guilt that she was not sharing this news with anyone else. The galaxy should know, after all. But who could she contact? Not the Luma, as all communication channels were probably compromised. She wished she could at least speak to Willowood, ask her for advice, maybe even get her to come along. But Awen had already put the elder’s life in grave danger—she wasn’t about to jeopardize her further.

  Next, she thought about her parents. She wanted to contact them. But any efforts to do so would probably only put their lives in danger, she concluded with a growing sense of remorse. If she survived this—if they all survived this—Awen would tell her father that pursuing peace beyond Elonia was possible. And necessary.

  Awen also wished she could contact Magnus. He would be good to have along on this expedition. As a professional—a trooper—of course. One I can trust. One who I…

  She couldn’t bring herself to finish that thought, at a loss for words that would express her feelings about him.

  And what do you feel, Awen?

  “Gratitude,” she said out loud. “That’s all.” But she knew she was lying to herself.

  Awen felt herself sinking deeper into the bed, the covers pulled tight around her chin. Just as the last wave of consciousness overtook her, she wondered if Magnus had read her handwritten note yet. She smiled.

  * * *

  Geronimo Nine entered the Psylon system and made port on Ki Nar Four without incident—Awen’s vomiting aside. Being on the far side of the Omodon quadrant in the Khimere sector, the back-world planet was a longtime haven for the galaxy’s most notorious criminals. Unlike the Dregs, where setting up shop close to the Jujari offered some semblance of protection, Ki Nar Four was for those who truly wanted to disappear from watchful Republic and non-Republic eyes alike. The downside to this, of course, was that Ki Nar Four had its own set of rules and, therefore, its own sets of eyes.

  The planet itself was a constantly rupturing sphere of molten lava and charred tectonic plates. Seismic shifts would have shattered anything built on the crust, so the first pioneers established small floating cities a few kilometers above the surface. What the class-two terrestrial planet lacked in the more obvious natural resources essential to sustaining life—such as water and biofuel, which had to be imported—it made up for in raw power. The constant release of elemental gases and heat made ideal commodities that not only supported the energy needed to keep large cities hovering in atmosphere but also served as revenue streams for whoever exported them to the rest of the quadrant. The person who controlled the elements controlled the credits. And that was just who Ezo was headed to see.

  “You should stay with the ship,” Ezo said to Awen as he checked his pistol in the cargo bay.

  “Nice try,” Awen replied, moving past him toward the open ramp.

  “Whoa, where do you think you’re going? You can’t be seen walking out there.”

  “And why not?”

  “You’re a Luma. Of all planets in the galaxy, this one hates your kind the most.”

  “Do I look like a Luma to you?” Awen said, sweeping her hand over her outfit.

  Ezo placed the barrel of his pistol under her necklace and held up the medallion. Awen snatched it away and stuffed it inside her turtleneck.

  “It’s still best if you stay here, Awen.”

  “I have to admit he’s right,” TO-96 said.

  “See?” Ezo raised his palms. “Told you.”

  “This is no place for a lady,” the bot continued. “You’ll only draw unnecessary attention to us… well, to Ezo, anyway.”

  “To the both of us,” Ezo corrected, looking at the bot. “Why just me?”

  “Sir, no one of her caliber has stayed with you for more than a night. I’m afraid that will only serve to—”

  “And that’s enough of that,” Ezo said, glaring at the bot. He holstered his pistol and smoothed his leather jacket.

  “You might need me,” Awen said.

  Ezo laughed. “Need you? If you haven’t noticed, Ezo has gotten along fine without you until now. You may be overestimating your importance, Star Queen. Remember, it was you who needed us back on Worru.”

  “Sir,” TO-96 said, “by my calculations, Awen’s presence does increase your odds of survivability by thirty-eight percent should you encounter violent resistance here.”

  “Our odds, Ninety-Six. Our odds of survival.”

  “Not true. Mine remain well over ninety percent.”

  “Since when did I ask you about any of this?”

  “You always seem to be in favor of things that increase the likelihood that you will survive any given situation. I simply didn’t see a reason for that to change.”

  “Huh, would you look at that,” Awen said, returning to the ramp. “Seems we’re a trio.”

  “Hey!” Ezo said, lifting a dark-brown cloak toward her. “At least put this on!”

  * * *

  Awen followed behind Ezo and TO-96, making sure to keep her face hidden within the cloak’s hood. Even the bot donned a cloak to keep wayward eyes from resting on his gleaming metal parts. At least I won’t be the only one kidnapped.

  The concrete labyrinth of Gangil, the largest of Ki Nar Four’s floating cities, writhed in dark-green light, busy with all manner of life, both sentient and pest. The sulfur from the planet’s surface, mixed with decaying life from the pavement, formed a stench Awen had never experienced before and hoped never to encounter again.

  The three guests crisscrossed through the grim city streets, boots splashing through black puddles and sidestepping bodies that were sleeping or dead—Awen couldn’t determine which. She wished f
or a flashlight to help pick her way through the refuse but then thought better of it. Sometimes, it was best not to know.

  Awen noticed the population increase as they moved farther from the starport and toward the city’s center. Beings of every species jostled against her, many marring her cloak with their wet exterior biology. She was suddenly very thankful that Ezo had insisted she wear it.

  They passed by eateries that Awen couldn’t believe remained in business and walked under red lights that invited pedestrians to gaze through glass windows at things Awen was embarrassed to admit she’d glimpsed. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, noting just how hot the air was even so far above the surface. Several aliens whistled at Ezo, some even calling him by name.

  Awen glanced at the scantily clad humanoids then back at Ezo. Really?

  Ezo wasn’t the easiest person for her to like as it was, but seeing how he confidently moved on what was easily the seediest planet she’d ever seen made her question his moral compass even more. She realized—much to her shame—that she’d placed her trust in Ezo because Abimbola had arranged their meeting. Abimbola, a warlord from the Dregs of Oorajee.

  All at once, Awen wondered if she wasn’t a total idiot for opening the stardrive in front of Ezo and agreeing to let him help her. But I convinced him to help me. I practically bribed him with a payout!

  Oh, how she wanted to gag her inner monologue. But what else should I expect when moving from the halls of Plumeria to the stalls of Gangil?

  Finding Sootriman’s den wasn’t difficult. It sat in the very center of the floating city like a massive bronze cooking pot complete with rounded lid and torrents of steam. It took up at least ten city blocks, by Awen’s estimate, and was detailed with all manner of suspended walkways, grates, circular tube vents, and hatches. The green residue she’d seen everywhere else in the city bled from its rusted holes and exhaust ports. Tattered rags spanned oddly placed decks, and ladders climbed the twenty-story building like skeletons standing on one another’s shoulders, each hoping in vain to make it to the summit and achieve some fabled resurrection.

  “Let Ezo do all the talking,” Ezo said as they approached two massive metal doors. He used the butt of his pistol to pound on the right door. Awen expected the strikes to produce a resounding echo. Instead, the sound was a dull thud, thud, thud, betraying just how thick the doors were.

  A metal plate slid open above their heads, and a single reptilian eye appeared. It darted around and then looked down, settling on Ezo, then TO-96, then Awen. She winced and lowered her head under the hood.

  “Ezo to see Sootriman.”

  “You’re not expected,” a lizard-like voice said.

  Awen felt a chill travel up her spine. Maybe staying with the ship would have been a better idea after all. But I wanted this, and now I have it and will have to deal with it.

  “That’s true,” Ezo agreed. “But when does anyone ever expect their debt holders to come knocking?”

  The lizard hissed, moved the eye to all three figures again, then slid the panel shut.

  “We’re in,” Ezo said. The right door unlatched with a clank and began a mechanically driven move inward. Ezo turned to Awen. “Don’t look around, and don’t let anything touch you.”

  “Understood.” She followed TO-96 into the darkness with Ezo leading the way.

  Inside the den, light emitted from small ports on either side of the floor every five meters. It was barely enough for Awen to see her steps by and not nearly enough to make out anything at head level. She wondered where the gatekeeper had gone and almost chanced a look behind her. She thought better of it, however, given Ezo’s advice, and reined in her impulses.

  Instead of exploring the world around her, Awen moved inward to her spirit, finding herself centered in the Unity. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. Then, slowly, she pressed her senses outward, seeing first her body, then TO-96’s energy, then Ezo’s body. She moved with the ripples of energy that reverberated off every element in the hallway—the floor, the domed ceiling, and the side corridors. Then she felt bodies that lay slumped in passages, rodents that scurried through refuse drains, and several guards who absentmindedly monitored the progress of three unexpected guests through drug-laden eyes. She also sensed something growing along the walls—something with a soul. Something aggressive. Something reaching for her.

  In the Unity, everything could become more vivid if enough concentration was employed, including smells. Alien blood mixed with excrement and bodily fluids that she couldn’t place. Rotting flesh signaled someone’s fate and someone else’s meal. And permeating it all was the horrendous stench of sulfur, which was somehow concentrated in these hallways. But at least in the Unity, she could purposely dim certain elements of her surroundings—smells being her first choice here.

  Ezo led them up a wide staircase, across some sort of courtyard, and down another hallway. More and more manner of life-forms appeared the deeper they moved, and Awen felt content to remain in the Unity as long as she could. It was safer there.

  Finally, Ezo stopped at a second set of doors, this set even taller and wider than the first. Several guards stood up as the trio approached. Awen examined them from within the Unity. They were a form of reptilian sentient she’d never encountered, standing on their hind legs head and shoulders above Ezo. Their tails slapped back and forth on the wet concrete, apparently excited for the newcomers. Black metal plates covered any exposed flesh not already protected by the lizards’ thick scales, and they clasped long energy rods in their claws.

  As she examined them, Awen picked up a rather forbidding detail: bits of rotting flesh between their teeth. At least I know what happens to guests Sootriman doesn’t care to see again.

  The foremost lizard flicked its forked tongue and let out a blast of air from its nostrils. “What’s this doing back here?” it hissed to no one in particular. “Idris Ezo.”

  “Ezo’s come to settle a debt with Sootriman,” Ezo replied.

  “Sootriman owes Ezo no debts,” replied the guard.

  “Ezo begs to differ,” Ezo said with easy confidence. Awen honestly couldn’t tell if the man was lying or telling the truth.

  “How about we just taste you instead.” The other lizards started flicking their tongues too, an action that fluttered the realm of the Unity with small vibrations of energy. The beasts were more powerful than Awen had imagined. She sensed the strength of their long, lean, muscled bodies.

  “You could,” Ezo said. “Nimprinth is not that bad on the palate. Throw in a little wantim glaze, and you’d each be in lizard ecstasy.” Ezo’s words produced a dramatic hissing response from the guards, so much so that Awen was worried they’d leap on him that instant.

  “However,” Ezo added, raising his index finger, “if word gets out that Sootriman didn’t make good on a debt, all because you ate the claimant, Ezo can’t imagine what that might do to the reputation of this house. Imagine how upset Sootriman would be.” Ezo shook his head in mock wonderment.

  “Silence, human!” the main guard said. “You speak simply to tempt us to our own graves.” The flicking of their tongues slowed down. “We are not so easily led astray.”

  “Ezo can see now that you are both clever and cunning,” Ezo said with a sigh, his words dripping with disappointment. “And here Ezo thought he’d get you to bite him.”

  “We may later, if our master decides your claim is not legitimate.”

  “Looking forward to that.”

  “As do we,” hissed the guard. Then it turned and snapped an order to its underlings. The doors began an arduous sweep toward them, pushing aside small carcasses. Ezo stepped back, along with TO-96 and Awen.

  “That was fairly impressive,” Awen whispered to him.

  “Eh, fight-or-flight instinct is pretty easy to sideline, if you know what you’re doing,” Ezo whispered back.

  “And if you don’t know what you’re doing?” Awen asked.

  “When you’re dealing wi
th Reptalons? Well, you never live to tell about it, so it all works out in the end. The bright side is you don’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Right,” Awen said. “That’s a great bright side.”

  “You ready to meet Sootriman?”

  “Uh, I guess?”

  “Just remember, Ezo told you to stay with the ship.”

  25

  Magnus crouched beneath a freight container with his index finger on his MAR30’s safety. He’d taken point, insisting that everyone else find defensive positions farther back. Dutch had armed everyone else with MX13 subcompact blasters, ideal for close-quarters combat and limited-range fire. When the ramp went down, if the boarding party was anything but fawning over them in friendliness, Magnus hoped to unleash enough hell that his crew could exfil and find additional cover. They’d regroup and improvise from there. It wasn’t a good plan. In fact, it was a terrible plan. But given their current resources, it was the best he had.

  Magnus waited, forcing himself to slow his heart rate. Adrenaline did stupid things to your judgment. Sure, it could help in certain situations, but those were few and far between. It was always best to stay cool and pace oneself.

  The crew had gone to ground three minutes before, and the ship had touched down inside the Bull Wraith five minutes before. The supposed enemy force had already passed the standard breach-and-entry time line that Republic Marines trained on. What are they waiting for?

  “Any movement, Lieutenant?” Nolan asked over comms. Magnus had coded the handheld comms into his helmet’s TACNET.

  “Negative, Cap. They haven’t so much as knocked on the front door.”

  “I know I’m only the pilot here, but doesn’t that seem off to you?”

  “Affirmative. Either these are the laziest pirates in the galaxy or—”

  Or what? Why would anyone capture a ship but not breach it? “Or they don’t care about the ships and they want the hostages alive,” Magnus said.