Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6
Page 83
“Piper,” Valerie said, having just entered the bridge behind the little girl. “Leave those poor bots alone.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Come, let’s get you settled in our quarters. I want you rested before we make landfall.”
Piper rushed to her mother and took her proffered hand. Then she looked back at Awen and smiled. “I can’t wait to start, Miss Awen.”
Awen waved. “Me too.”
Piper thought her new teacher seemed sad. Or maybe scared. Either way, it didn’t matter. Learning from Awen would be fun. Everything will be just fine. Awen will see.
18
Does Piper suspect she killed her father? The question plagued Awen so heavily that she hardly cared that she’d returned to the metaverse. She sat at the sensor’s station on the bridge, chin in her hands, watching as the Novia Minoosh’s planet came into view in the main window. The lush green-and-blue world loomed against the star-strewn background. Awen barely noticed. She wanted to take Piper aside and find out everything the little girl knew. She wanted to ask her about her powers… about the things she’d seen. And about what had happened to her father.
Awen suddenly realized that maybe Piper’s father hadn’t been the only person the little girl had harmed. What if there are others? Memories from Awen’s own childhood on Elonia stirred in her mind. She’d found her own abilities challenging to manage at times. And mine weren’t anything like Piper’s. No one’s are. The poor thing was probably terrified. Awen remembered how scared she’d felt the first time one of her classmates winced at what Awen had done. It was a horrible feeling. And I never killed anyone. Piper was probably scared more than she let on, which meant Awen needed to get her team settled on this new planet, and fast.
“So where are we headed, Azelon?” Awen asked.
“The third planet from the system’s main star,” Azelon replied. “It is named Nieth Tearness in honor of the planet’s original settlers.”
Awen snapped her eyes toward the bot. “Wait. They weren’t Novia Minoosh?” She looked at TO-96. “You mean to tell me there are more species in this system?”
TO-96 raised a hand. “I am sorry, Awen. No, they were indeed Novia Minoosh. What Azelon means to say is that the name refers to their particular calling—their profession, if you will—rather than to their species.”
“TO-96 is correct,” Azelon said. “Please forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Awen placed a hand on her chest. “Almost gave me a heart attack there. I’m not sure I can handle the discovery of a second species right now.”
“There are many more than two, whenever you are ready, Awen,” Azelon said.
“Many more? What’s many more?” Awen’s head swam at that thought, but she regretted posing the question. She had far more important things to worry about than playing emissary in a new universe—a conclusion she could hardly believe she was accepting. “Wait. You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know. At least, not right now, anyway.”
“As you wish,” TO-96 replied with a bow of his head. Azelon had raised her finger as if to expound on her point, but TO-96 waved her off. “Awen is not in the headspace to deal with it right now.”
“I do not understand anything you just said,” Azelon replied.
“Save the data for later dissemination.”
“Very well.”
“And in the meantime,” Awen said, “what can you tell me about this new planet?”
The elevator doors slid open in a smooth whoosh. Awen turned to see Magnus step onto the bridge.
“Hey,” he said with a wave.
Awen waved back. “How’s Sootriman?”
“Everything looks good. Another day and a half before she’s conscious. At least, that’s what the ship’s med systems seem to show.”
“You are correct, Magnus,” Azelon said.
Magnus put a hand on the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to you, Azelon.”
“Used to me?”
“They are not used to a ship being self-aware and fully integrated into all client systems,” TO-96 explained.
“Yeah, that,” Magnus said. “Just a little weird. Anyway, Sootriman’s good, and the Reptalon has been escorted to his quarters on the other side of the ship.”
“Great. Thanks.” Awen had kicked herself for not remembering the bad blood between the Jujari and the Reptalons. Inviting one onto the ship had been a mistake. But then again, it was Rohoar who’d arrived second. It wasn’t Awen’s fault—it was just the way things had unfolded. She could no more tell Saasarr to turn back from avenging Sootriman’s would-be killer than she could ask Rohoar to stop serving Magnus and Magnus to stop protecting Piper. It seemed they were all caught up in this together, and she had to make do. “When Rohoar gets back, we’re going to—”
“Need to figure something else out, I know,” Magnus replied. “We will. In the meantime, Saasarr is enjoying some kind of strange meal that the replicators produced for him.”
“That is optuna trunkfish from Orran Five,” TO-96 said. “Or at least, Azelon’s best approximation based upon my limited data set. It is a delicacy among Reptalons.”
“Well, apparently he really likes it,” Magnus said. “Ezo and I were worried that nothing would pull him away from his vigil at Sootriman’s side. But that awful stuff did the trick.”
“Awful, sir?” TO-96 asked.
“Splick, yes.” Magnus waved his hand in front of his face as if warding off a foul odor. “Stuff is heinous. Like sticking your face inside a dead body.”
Awen raised her eyebrows. “And you know that because…?”
“It just is, okay?”
“Whatever you say, Marine.” Awen chuckled as Magnus came to stand beside her.
“So what do we got here?” he asked.
“Heading to the new planet,” Awen said.
“It is called Nieth Tearness,” Azelon explained. “And no, they are not a new species.”
“What’s not a new species?” Magnus asked, looking to Awen for help.
“Never mind.” She laughed. “Keep going, Azelon.”
“As you wish.” A picture-perfect representation of a planet appeared in a hexagonal holo-screen just in front of Awen and Magnus. Like Ithnor Ithelia, this new planet contained green and blue, indicating lush continents and vast oceans. But Nieth Tearness had less landmass and far more water than the first planet. “As you can see,” Azelon continued, “eighty-nine percent of the planet’s surface is covered in water.”
“That’s even more than Capriana,” Magnus said.
Awen nodded. “So I guess that means that the population was fairly low.” No sooner had she said it than she scolded herself. Determining population by landmass? What if they could breathe underwater too? For as long as she’d lived on the alien planet—even surviving on one of their old ships—she still knew next to nothing about the Novia’s physiology.
“Affirmative,” Azelon replied. “Nieth Tearness served as a sister planet whose population was dependent on Ithnor Ithelia for the majority of their basic needs.”
“And you still think this is a good place for us to set up camp?” Magnus asked no one in particular.
Azelon looked at Awen and then TO-96. When no one else replied, she said, “Affirmative. Even with the additional occupants your crewmates propose to bring from Oorajee, your dietary and energy needs will place a fractional demand on the planet’s resources. Furthermore, given your proposed combat preparations, you will not have any additional time to cultivate the necessary crops and energy supply while still adhering to a conservative timeline. Therefore, the majority of your nutritional requirements will be met by my replicators. Likewise, your energy needs will be met by a temporary battery-node array.”
“Sounds like we’ll be living in the lap of luxury, then,” Magnus said. “When do we get there?”
“Approximately fifty-eight minutes, Magnus,” TO-96 replied. “Now that we are in-system, we will ma
ke a short subspace jump to just outside the planet’s gravity well, then we will advance under normal ion engines to low orbit.”
“Speaking of time,” Awen said, “how long has it been?”
“That is an incomplete question,” Azelon said.
“Do you mean how much time has elapsed since we last left?” TO-96 asked.
“Yeah, exactly.” Awen stood and moved close to Magnus.
“Our most recent duration in the protoverse—”
“That’s our universe,” Awen said to Magnus.
“—was roughly eighteen hours. Following what I have discerned to be a twenty-to-one time-dilation ratio, that correlates to fifteen days local time.”
“Damn,” Magnus said. “You mean to tell me even though you just left here less than a day ago, fifteen days have gone by already? Out here, I mean?”
“That’s correct, sir,” TO-96 said.
“Wait, so…” Magnus looked at Awen. “If you were gone from our universe for a couple of days, that means…” He seemed to be attempting the math in his head.
“Don’t hurt yourself there, trooper.”
“I can handle this.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. Just take your time.”
Magnus waved her off. “Was that like three months or something?”
“Well done, sir,” said TO-96.
“See?” Magnus said to Awen. “I can still do the math.”
“And aren’t you just so proud of yourself.”
“Ninety-plus days… that’s a long time,” Magnus said. “What’d you do with yourself?”
Awen felt her eyes glass over. The memories of her time in the city came back as if they’d happened only moments ago. She remembered exploring the temple library while the others searched the city. She’d been afraid of going back inside the Unity, haunted by the dark presence that possessed Admiral Kane’s soul. She had bitter conversations with Ezo and cost her friends a lot of time by not facing her fears sooner. Eventually, however, she consented to exploring the temple library from inside the Unity. And what a day that had been—little more than eighteen hours ago by one timetable and fifteen days by another.
“We did plenty,” Awen said. “That’s for another day. Azelon, tell me—are you picking up anything from Itheliana? From the intruders there, I mean?”
Azelon nodded. “Yes. The Novia’s continued presence in the city is a part of my consciousness, though the information they provide is often sporadic or incomplete. Is there something I can answer specifically?”
“Sure. I mean, have they… I don’t know… discovered anything they shouldn’t have? Or damaged something? Or taken something they shouldn’t have touched?” The more Awen spoke, the more she realized how vague her questions were. What are you asking, Awen?
“If you mean, has the military force that pursued you in the city found anything of value that might serve an ulterior purpose to do others harm, then no, at least not from what the Novia can ascertain.”
Awen let out a sigh. “Well, that’s good news.”
“However, it does seem that the contingent of intruders—as you call them—”
“They’re a former recon team,” Magnus interrupted with a raised hand. “Former Repub Marines—traitors and murderers. But let’s just call them what they are.”
Azelon nodded then amended her description. “The enemy’s reconnaissance team is spending an inordinate amount of time near several points of interest that the Novia find distressing.”
Awen’s heart tightened. “What do you mean distressing?”
“The Novia note significant energy expenditures near two collections of material reservoirs.”
“Material… like rare metals or fuels or something?”
“They are far more complex than that,” Azelon said, “but yes.”
“That can’t be good,” Magnus said.
“The Novia do not think you should be overly concerned, however,” Azelon continued. “The enemy’s team is not close to discovering a method of entry to these reservoirs, which are heavily fortified.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Magnus replied. “They’re trained to blow splick up. It’s part of their tradecraft.”
“The Novia are reasonably sure you have nothing to fear,” Azelon countered. “I calculate that there is less than a 5 percent chance they will penetrate the city’s defensive measures.”
“I concur with her findings, Awen,” TO-96 said. “The potential is negligible.”
Their reassurances didn’t lower Awen’s sense of urgency. These Paragon troopers needed to be stopped and quickly. Whatever it was they were after couldn’t be good.
“Where do you recommend we set up base camp?” Magnus asked.
“Here.” Azelon pointed to an island that expanded to meet her fingertip. It lay just below the planet’s equatorial line and was shaped like a triangle with rounded corners. “This is the largest island, Ni No. I believe the founding city’s ruins will best accommodate the list you provided, Awen.”
“What list?” Magnus asked. “You gave her a list?”
“I did, yes. Basic things. Safe shelter, adequate space for training, varied terrain, inspiring views.”
“Inspiring views?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“We’re training for battle, not a vacation in the Venetian system.”
“And what I’m about to lead Piper through is going to be harder than you can possibly imagine, so a meditative environment will go a long way in easing her anxiety.”
“Whatever floats your starship, Awen. Just maybe think about consulting me next time. If we’re gonna be a team, we gotta think like one.”
“I figured you could train anywhere.”
“And I didn’t figure you’d need picturesque vistas.”
Awen pursed her lips in thought. “Fair enough.” Magnus had a point. And she did like the idea of being a team. With him. That felt good. How often had she wished he’d been with her on Ithnor Ithelia? How often had she wanted to ask him what to do next or wished he would blow something up that she couldn’t—like the troopers?
But something bothered her about what Magnus had just said—the way he’d referred to her as a Luma. Was she still a Luma? From the first moment she’d learned what the Order of the Luma was, when she was a child, she’d wanted to be one. She’d learned about them at school, keeping the reading assignments a secret from her parents after they told her the Order was rubbish. That was the only time in her life that her parents said they didn’t mind if she failed the unit test on a subject. But she’d achieved a perfect score on the exam and even opted to take electives on the Order for further study.
But after what she’d seen So-Elku do—and after what he’d done to Willowood, Magnus, and the others—she wasn’t sure. This wasn’t the Luma—at least, not her Luma. This was something else. She felt sick to her stomach and wanted to get as far away from the Order as possible, to renounce her oaths and reject the title she’d worked so hard to obtain. If manipulating and killing for your own purposes is what being a Luma is about, then I want nothing to do with it.
And what were So-Elku’s purposes, anyway? She wasn’t sure. But after meeting Piper, Awen was at least convinced that it had something to do with the little girl… and something to do with the codex he’d stolen from the temple library. What those things had in common, she had no idea.
It was hard to reconcile So-Elku’s behavior with the man she’d believed he was. The betrayal was deep, like a blade slowly piercing her heart, twisting in small painful fits that made her want to weep. She’d trusted him, revered him. His office epitomized everything the Luma stood for. His very title of master meant he fully embodied the Order’s ethos. If he’d failed, if he’d fallen, were the Order’s ideals to be questioned too? Surely, the desire to fight for the best interests of a species is noble, isn’t it? But why, then, did that produce such horrible fruit? How could I—or any of us—have missed this?
19
The shuttle ride to Nieth Tearness’s surface had been uneventful for Magnus. It was nice, he admitted, not to be chased or shot at or preparing to fast-rope into a hot landing zone. Instead, for once, he just enjoyed the view. He glanced over at Awen, who likewise seemed to be enjoying the view. Her purple eyes were even more intense under the sun’s otherworldly light. Magnus found himself staring at her. He jerked away and looked out the shuttle’s cockpit window.
The ocean stretched out from east to west, north and south, dotted with islands of various sizes. The system’s violet-hued star cast the land in deep green, the islands lying in stark contrast to the purple-blue oceans. It was, he had to admit, a beautiful sight. Maybe the Elonian wasn’t that far off in her need for stunning views. Still, they had a job to do, and Magnus was eager to get started.
Ezo had agreed to stay behind to look after Sootriman, Saasarr, Valerie, Piper, and the bots while Magnus and Awen took everyone else planetside to get settled. Nolan piloted the shuttle to land in a large clearing in the center of the ruined city. Even though Azelon had assured them that the planet’s inhabitants had long abandoned their residences, Magnus still tasked his Marines and Marauders with setting up a perimeter as soon as the skids touched down.
The remains of large stone buildings lay to each side of an open hexagon. The ruins had been reclaimed by the forest long before, covered in a myriad of mosses, grasses, vines, and—where there was enough soil—trees. Still, Magnus could make out windows, doorways, and balconies in the buildings. His troops cleared the closest structures as best they could, but the only signs of life Magnus could see were various types of local wildlife—birds, some form of monkey, and ground animals that darted into burrows mined between stone blocks.