Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  “It’s time.” Magnus brought his hand up in a salute, and the entire company followed his lead, returning the salute. “Dominate!” Magnus roared with his right fist held high.

  “Liberate!” answered thirty-nine souls with their fists to the sky.

  34

  No one spoke as the shuttles entered Ithnor Ithelia’s atmosphere. Flames flickered across the windowplex while the ships bounced and jolted. Nolan piloted Red One, carrying Alpha and Bravo Platoons, while Andocs piloted Red Two, taking Charlie and Delta Platoons.

  Magnus sat beside Nolan, examining the holo-map, while the remaining two crash couches behind him held Awen and Piper. The two were extremely quiet, which made Magnus feel even more uneasy. While he loved silence, this mission was tense enough as it was, so anything to break up the constant hurry-up-and-wait aspect of prebattle anxiety would be welcome.

  “So we’re going to come in from far away, right, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir?” Piper asked.

  Mystics, favor her, Magnus thought, grateful that she had broken the bridge’s constricting silence. Even if she can’t separate my old rank from my name. “That’s right, Piper. You ever see a shooting star?”

  “Lots of times.”

  “Well, that’s what we look like right now.” Magnus pointed out the window as the flames began subsiding. “All that fire’s from friction, and it makes us visible for hundreds of kilometers in every direction. So we need to make sure no one in Itheliana can see us.” He enlarged the holo-map so she could see from behind him. “The navigation computer gives us an exact path to follow so we’re out of view.”

  “Then we fly fast and low to Itheliana?”

  Magnus chucked. “Have you been studying military tactics in your spare time, little one?”

  She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Just makes sense is all.”

  “That it does,” Magnus said, turning back to study their progress.

  “So we’re gonna land over there, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir?”

  Magnus followed her pointed finger toward the green dot that lay east of the city in a forest about one klick from the city’s eastern border. “We sure are. Mr. Nolan here is going to drop us in the middle of a small clearing. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

  “Will I get to walk beside you?”

  “I’m afraid not, Piper.” Magnus turned in his chair to face her. The girl was such an enigma to him. On the one hand, she looked so childlike that she seemed younger than her nine years of age. But on the other, she was so mature, so confident, that most adults paled in comparison. He had trouble reconciling the two images he had of this young lady. “You’ll need to stay back with Awen for this mission.”

  “But you’ll rescue me when I get in trouble, right, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir?”

  “Right.” Magnus leaned toward her. “I’ll always be there to rescue you… but you need to make me a promise.”

  “Sure, anything.”

  “That you’ll be there to rescue me when I need it too.”

  “Promise,” she said. Then she did something incredibly spontaneous—she kissed her fingers, reached forward, and placed them on his cheek.

  Somehow, he felt he was supposed to do the same to seal the mutual deal, as it were. So Magnus kissed his fingers—far larger and rougher than hers—and placed the imaginary kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled, accepting the pat with a warmth he couldn’t remember seeing elsewhere—at least not in a very long time. “Promise,” he said.

  * * *

  The shuttles skimmed along the tops of the trees for another ten minutes before Nolan called out the time to landing. “Two minutes,” he said, flipping several switches.

  Magnus heard changes in the ship’s drive core and noticed the craft start to decelerate. He unbuckled his harness and passed between Awen and Piper. “Stay here until I come and get you.”

  “Copy,” Awen replied, smiling up at him. She was nervous—he could see it in her eyes.

  “Hey,” Magnus said, leaning down toward her ear. “You’ve got this.”

  Awen nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Magnus left the bridge and stepped down the alternating-tread staircase into the shuttle’s extended cargo bay. “Heads up. We’re less than two minutes to touchdown. Pre-combat check means helmets on, lock and load, and check the gladia beside you.”

  One by one, each gladia donned helmets, powered on and charged NOV1s, and examined the gladias to their right and left to make sure they were buttoned up and ready to move out.

  “One minute,” Nolan yelled from the bridge.

  “One minute,” Magnus echoed, holding up one finger. The gesture was mimicked throughout the cargo bay.

  Magnus placed his own helmet over his head. His visor powered on, giving him a crystal-clear view of the cargo bay. Both platoons stood and turned toward the aft. He still couldn’t believe how clear the view was in the Mark I helmet. It was as if he wasn’t wearing a helmet at all—perfect peripheral vision—and the tech even interfaced with his bioteknia eyes, thanks to some custom coding by Azelon.

  The advanced neural interface took only a second to boot up, calibrating to his brain waves via the embedded sensors pressed firmly against several points on his skull. As soon as they established a secure connection, the displays in his visor and his eyes synced, creating a multidimensional mesh of data that made Magnus feel like he was seeing the world from inside a hyper-intelligent AI.

  ’Cause that’s exactly what you are doing, dummy. Gone were the days of having to use his eyes to navigate menus, let alone his hands. All he needed to do was think about doing something, and it happened.

  From inside his helmet over comms, Magnus heard Nolan say, “Thirty seconds.”

  Magnus held his hand over his head in the shape of a C, denoting second and final call before loadout. A sliver of late-morning light appeared at the ceiling as the shuttle’s rear door crept open. Within another two seconds, Magnus saw leaves rustling under the shuttle’s thrusters.

  “Activate ambient-environment skin,” Magnus said over comms. Pings of acknowledgment lined his visor as each gladia acknowledged the command. Even Magnus’s command was displayed in real-time text along a chat feed, supplying a time-stamped log for every mission order and action. The Repub’s got nothing on this, Magnus thought.

  To Magnus’s astonishment—even though he knew it was coming—the gladias disappeared as they activated their telecolos system to replicate their immediate environment. “Splick,” he said, looking around the room. The only evidence that anyone was there at all were dozens of minor bumps in the scene—places where the suit’s infrastructure had a hard time projecting across the curvature of limbs and joints. Still, if Kane’s troopers didn’t know what they were looking at, they’d be hard-pressed to know there were almost two dozen armor-clad beings waiting to tear them apart. Which is exactly what we want.

  “Ten seconds,” Magnus said over the sound of the straining drive cores. The ramp was almost fully lowered, revealing a dense frost without.

  “Hey, where’d everybody go?” Piper exclaimed from the bridge. Her tiny face peered down at Magnus, who still hadn’t activated his telecolos system.

  “Everyone’s still there, Piper,” Magnus replied, grabbing a strap of webbing to brace himself against the landing.

  “Just use the Unity,” Awen added.

  “Oh,” Piper said. “I see them now.”

  Just like that? Magnus thought. Mystics, she is… incredible.

  Wait until you see her in action, came a second voice inside Magnus’s head. He almost hit his helmet with his hand—a bad habit he’d picked up from bungling around inside old Mark IV armor—but realized the voice sounded exactly like Awen.

  That’s because it is me, she replied.

  “Three…” Nolan said. “Two… one…” The shuttle bounced only slightly as Nolan executed a textbook landing. “Touchdown!”

  “Did you just read my—are you in my head?” Magnu
s asked out loud. Hell, this was distracting. He had an op to run.

  Only if you want me to be, Awen replied.

  Me too! Piper added.

  Magnus wasn’t sure he could handle having either one of them in his head. “Shut up for just a second, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  Magnus ordered everyone out of the shuttles. Both platoons exited and set up a perimeter around the ships. Amazingly, optical sensors hardly detected anything save the rustling of long grass and shifting shadows among the distant tree trunks. Even his thermal imaging had a hard time identifying the shapes. It wasn’t until Magnus activated his atomic sensors that the shapes of his gladias filled his vision, echoed by his bioteknia’s redundant imaging systems.

  “All right, platoon leaders,” Magnus said, singling out Dutch, Abimbola, Titus, and Rohoar over comms. “Let’s secure the enemy shuttle and prep for entry into the city. Smooth is fast, and fast is deadly.”

  “La-raah,” Rohoar said through his snout of clenched teeth.

  “La-raah,” the other three echoed.

  “I’ll be right behind you with our mystics,” Magnus added. Once the company was off and moving, Magnus walked back inside Red One to retrieve Awen and Piper. They’d already descended from the bridge and donned their helmets.

  “Looking good,” Magnus said to both of them over comms.

  Thanks, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir.

  “Piper, can you please use comms with me for right now?” Magnus asked. “I’m… just not sure I’m ready for you being in my head yet.”

  “Sure. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  Freak me out? This kid is something else. “Okay, you both ready to move out?” he asked.

  They nodded.

  “Stay close, and keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary, or however it is you track stuff in the Unity.”

  “Understood, Magnus,” Awen replied. “We’re with you.”

  “Yeah, we’re totally with you,” Piper added.

  Half of Magnus felt really strange for purposefully escorting a child into a hostile environment. It was just something a person never ever did. Yet the other half of him wouldn’t want to enter a battlefield without her.

  “Here goes nothing.” He turned and led them down the ramp, carrying his NOV1 in low-ready position, and activated his suit’s chameleon mode.

  * * *

  Granther Company proceeded through the forest as planned, moving in two columns with scouts farther out. Their first objective was securing the enemy’s transport shuttle, which was located adjacent to the ruins of Ezo’s former command, the Indomitable. His ship, as he told it, had been scuttled by the departing Admiral Kane to prevent any later escape.

  According to Azelon, the enemy’s shuttle hadn’t been used in several weeks, and therefore, it was unlikely to be occupied. Still, Magnus didn’t want to take any chances—the craft needed to be cleared and disabled, or else the enemy might use it later on. It was best just to take the thing out of play.

  Eight minutes had ticked by on the mission clock before the first scout announced, “Eyes on the Hotel One.”

  “Good work, Zoll,” Titus said over comms.

  Magnus watched as the blue dot in his projected topographical map changed to yellow, confirming the first waypoint but designating it as unsecured.

  “Charlie and Delta Platoons,” Magnus said, “set up a perimeter. Alpha and Bravo Platoons, initiate search and seizure.”

  Again, confirmation pings sounded as green icons lined the chat thread. Magnus watched the map as the white dots, signifying each member of each platoon, spread out into the target area. Small member designators also spread across his field of view, allowing him to call up exact coordinates and distances should he desire.

  “Can we go look too?” Piper asked.

  “Not yet,” Magnus replied. “I want you staying here behind this tree. Since your suits don’t change color like ours, it’s important that you keep out of sight. I don’t want you moving forward until we’re sure where the enemy is.”

  “I understand, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir.”

  Magnus patted her on the shoulder then looked to Awen. “Stay here for a sec?”

  She nodded. “Will do.”

  Magnus turned and ran toward Hotel One. He could barely make out the shuttle’s black hull through the trees with optical sensors, but the ship appeared clearly through the rest of his spectral sensors. He could even see members of Alpha and Bravo Platoons moving around inside it.

  “Dutch, Abimbola, report,” Magnus ordered.

  “Looks to be abandoned, buckethead,” Abimbola said. “And Cyril says there are no signs of remote detection or active relays either.”

  “They pulled the drive core right out of her too,” Dutch added. “Whatever they found in the city, I’m guessing they needed the power there instead.”

  “Yeah, that can’t be good,” Magnus said. “Disable the flight systems. But don’t do anything we can’t fix later.”

  “Copy that,” Dutch replied.

  Magnus moved under the ship, heading for the far side of the clearing. The hulking mass that was the Indomitable lay to his right. How Ezo had ever managed to fly that piece of junk was beyond him. That Nimprith was either a damn good pilot or a damn crazy one. Probably both, Magnus thought.

  Saladin crouched beside Rohoar at the edge of the clearing, looking through a stand of trees toward the eastern gate’s ruins. While the Jujari’s lack of telecolos-coated armor failed to blend all of their bodies into their environment’s visual palette, their fur certainly went a long way toward adding to their unique version of camouflage.

  Magnus approached the two cautiously, careful to make his presence known over comms—the last thing he wanted to do was startle a Jujari from behind. “On your six, Rohoar.”

  Rohoar and Saladin turned slowly, motioning Magnus to crouch beside them.

  “Waddya got for me?” Magnus asked.

  “Do you smell it?” Rohoar asked him.

  “Smell it?”

  “Humans,” Saladin said, licking her chops. “Many humans. Upwind, nine hundred meters to the west.”

  “Anything closer than that?” Magnus asked.

  Rohoar shook his head. “No. That is the only place where we smell humans.”

  “But you might not be able to smell all of them, right? We need to—”

  “Jujari always smell all humans,” Saladin said. “Jujari never miss any humans. All humans stink.”

  Magnus had both his eyebrows raised. “That’s good to know.” To Dutch and Abimbola, he asked, “How are you coming with the ship?”

  “Good,” Dutch replied.

  “Cyril says he’s almost done,” Abimbola added. “Five more seconds and then—”

  Pop! Pip–pip. Crack!

  “I think it’s done,” Abimbola said. Magnus could practically smell the electrical smoke.

  “Yup,” Dutch replied. “Shuttle scuttled.”

  “Good.” Magnus switched to the Spire’s dedicated channel. “Azie, do you read me?”

  “I do,” the AI said. “That is, if by read you mean detect your audio transmission with sufficient clarity. And if so, I believe I am starting to get the hang of your human idioms.”

  “Congratulations, Azie. Listen, the Jujari are picking up human scent nine hundred meters to the west. Can you confirm that?”

  “Negative, sir. Whatever shielding the enemy is using has made me unable to pinpoint their exact location. The only thing I can tell you is that nine hundred meters from your present location is within acceptable margins of error for possible enemy presence. If I were you, I would go with your gut on this one.”

  “Well said,” TO-96 added over comms.

  Magnus rolled his eyes. “Thanks, you two. If anything pops up, I need to be the first to know.”

  “Affirmative, sir,” TO-96 said. “We’ll do our very best.”

  “Yes,” Azelon confirmed, “we’ll put o
ur backs into it and give it the old college try.”

  Magnus chuckled. “I couldn’t ask for more. Magnus out.” Before they could demonstrate more of their idiomatic speech, he turned off the channel.

  “All right, teams, listen up,” Magnus said over company wide comms. “We’re detecting a human presence nine hundred meters to the west. But I want that confirmed before we move in. Awen, are you able to see that far?”

  “Stand by, Magnus, I’ll—”

  “Yup, I see them,” Piper exclaimed. Magnus winced, as the audio compression wasn’t fast enough to catch her sudden outburst. He could see several other gladias reacting to the loud sound too.

  “Thanks, Piper. Try not to shout, okay?”

  “Okay, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir.”

  “Can you describe what you’re seeing?”

  “Uh-huh.” Magnus heard her little voice counting under her breath. “I see twenty troopers dressed in black. They have… a base camp, like ours! But smaller. And no ESCEs or ISCEs, but they might have a temple. No, wait! Twenty-one troopers. No, wait! Twenty-two!”

  “Piper, slow down,” Magnus said. “Where is this base camp?”

  “It’s up the main street in front of us. You have to go under the gate. Then we have to jump two streets over, and then it’s diagonal. It opens into a pretty-looking plaza. That’s where they are.”

  “And why do more of them keep appearing? Something about a temple, you said?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. ’Cause they have a tunnel.”

  “A tunnel?”

  “Uh-huh. They keep going in and coming out. Ooo! There’s another one—twenty-three!”

  “Magnus?” Titus said.

  “Go, Titus.”

  “Bettger has marked the location on the holo-map using Piper’s directions.”

  “Perfect,” Magnus replied. In addition to the map icon, he’d also noticed a new waypoint in his field of view along with a distance-to-target indicator, both of which moved and updated in real time—much as his bioteknia eyes did. “Granther Company, we have our next objective. Your nav systems have been updated. This is it.”