Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  19

  Azelon brought the Spire into Worru’s orbit without any resistance from the Luma. In fact, if she was to be believed, no one on the planet even knew the ship was there, thanks to the Novia’s cloaking technology.

  The shuttles, however, weren’t as fortunate and required that the pilots traverse to the planet’s far side, make entry, and then travel below radar on approach to Plumeria. In addition to the two shuttles that carried Granther Company, two more shuttles accompanied them to ferry any Luma prisoners that Magnus and Awen found.

  TO-96 and Cyril sliced several databanks to access ship logs for vessels native to Worru. They stole four identification tags and reassigned them to the shuttles, making the ships appear to have come from another city on the planet’s far side. So far, the plan was working like a charm, and all four shuttles had touched down in docking bays thirty-four through thirty-seven.

  “If I’m not back in sixty-minutes, you proceed to waypoint Juliet Zero Two,” Magnus said to Awen.

  “We head to Grand Arielina,” she replied.

  Magnus nodded. “And don’t think twice. Just get in as fast as you can, find Willowood and the others, and get out. If the codex is within reach, get it, but it’s not a main priority.”

  “Understood. But what about you?”

  “He’s either gonna arrest me or come along for the ride. You’ll hear it over comms.”

  Awen took a deep breath. “Be careful.”

  “Be dangerous,” he replied with a wink.

  “Sure.” Then she hit the ramp door button with the heel of her hand and watched a sliver of moonlight pierce through the darkened cargo bay. The ramp hadn’t even come down halfway when Magnus kissed her, put his helmet on, and vaulted through the gap. She hit stop, then stared at the darkened Plumeria skyline.

  “Now what?” Silk asked, standing directly behind Awen with her NOV1 laying over her shoulder.

  “We let Magnus be Magnus and wait.”

  * * *

  Magnus moved alone through the streets of Plumeria. His Novia armor was in chameleon mode, allowing him to operate without risk of being seen. But given how quiet everything was, he was more worried about being heard than seen.

  For someone who’d developed a deep resentment of the Luma, he never imagined he’d be on their homeworld three times in less than a year—depending upon what universe one was counting time in—and certainly not to save a handful of their asses. But, like Awen, he’d been changing—and for the better, he noted. This first part of the mission, however, was not about the Luma. It was about the Repub, about the Marines, and about his relationship with one of the Corps’ legends.

  Magnus followed the vector waypoints on his HUD until he stood outside the colonel’s residence. It was a two-story stone building in a nice part of the city—though Magnus guessed the “nice parts” of Plumeria outnumbered the “not so nice parts” a hundred to one.

  He double checked the time to see he had forty-nine minutes left before needing to either get back to the shuttles or send them on their way.

  “Azie, you seeing this lock?” Magnus asked over comms as he zoomed in on the front door.

  “Affirmative,” she replied. “Please stand by.”

  Magnus waited a moment, keeping his vision focused on the security panel, when Azelon said, “Sir, please raise your left wrist toward the security system.”

  “My left wrist?” No sooner did he lift his arm than a hard-light emitter on his wrist projected a replica of Azelon’s robotic hand. Magnus almost winced at the apparition but managed to hold still.

  “Please keep me steady, sir.”

  “You got it, Azie.”

  Magnus watched a series of lights blink along the home security device as Azelon’s hand went to work, moving faster than he could track. A soft chime issued from the door, followed by a feminine voice that said, “Welcome, friend of Colonel William Caldwell. Please come in.”

  Magnus swore. Everything seemed louder when trying to be covert. Still, he had to remind himself that such a sound would be white noise in this neighborhood. Hopefully the colonel felt the same. The hard-light emitter faded and Azelon’s hand disappeared.

  “Thanks, Azie.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  The door slid open and Magnus stepped into a spartan hallway. An opening on either side led to a living room and an office respectively. The hallway terminated at the kitchen while the stairwell—he assumed—led to the bedrooms. The colonel had lost his wife years ago, so unless he had a mistress for a sleepover, the colonel should have been alone.

  Magnus switched from night vision to HSI—high sensitivity infrared. Instantly, he saw a single warm body lying in bed on the second story.

  “I have eyes on the colonel,” Magnus informed Azie. “Proceeding upstairs.” He powered off chameleon mode to conserve energy and switched his NOV1 to its new mode. Azelon had modified the weapon to produce a high-voltage low-amperage discharge if Magnus needed to subdue Caldwell without permanently harming him. He laid his finger on the trigger guard and moved up the stairwell. His footfalls were slow and methodical, and he kept his hips and shoulders even, resisting his body’s natural tendency to bounce up the steps.

  Magnus turned right at the top of the stairs and approached the master bedroom. “Azie, can you put that door on manual?”

  “Affirmative,” she replied. Magnus saw a small blue LED shift colors to green.

  “Thanks.”

  He laid a hand on the door and slid it to the right. When the opening was large enough for him to slip through, Magnus stepped sideways into the room and pointed his weapon at the bed. Caldwell was still asleep. He’d taken no more than three steps across the bedroom floor when he heard the power cycle of a pistol.

  “Hold right there,” said a commanding voice behind him, followed by the chime of a desk lamp turning on. A small nudge just under the back of Magnus’s helmet meant there was probably a weapon pointed at the base of his neck.

  Magnus brought his hands up slowly. Whoever this was, his body hadn’t registered on Magnus’s HUD.

  “I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Magnus said over his external speaker.

  “Looks like a mighty big gun for someone who isn’t interested in shooting it.”

  Magnus froze. “Colonel Caldwell?”

  “I should hope so. You did break into his house, after all.”

  “Colonel, it’s me, Magnus.” Magnus felt the weapon behind his head twitch.

  “You’re gonna need more proof than that,” Caldwell said, pressing the barrel back into Magnus’s neck.

  “You accepted my request to move the Fearsome Four to RIS after Nos Kil killed your son in Caledonia.” The words came out effortlessly despite the cruel memories they provoked.

  There was a moment’s hesitation before Caldwell said, “Magnus?”

  Magnus raised one hand and pulled off his helmet, making a grand display of his intentions. Then Magnus turned slowly to look at the colonel. When their eyes met, Caldwell powered down his pistol.

  “Holy mystics, Magnus. What in the hades are you doing here? And what are you wearing?”

  “It’s a long story, colonel. But we don’t have much time.”

  “Time before what?”

  “Time before things go sideways. You got somewhere we can talk?”

  “Sure, sure, Magnus. Just let me get some damn clothes on.” That was when Magnus realized the colonel wasn’t wearing a thing. He looked from the dimly lit bathroom to the bed, confused.

  “I don’t get it?” Magnus asked as the man stood in front of a tall dresser. “IR sensors showed you we’re in bed. Did you know I was coming? You spoofed my kit?”

  The colonel laughed. “I guess there are some benefits to getting old.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Heating pad, son.” Caldwell chuckled, then nodded toward the bathroom. “And I was taking a cold shower. Doc says it’s good for my circulation.”

  “Son o
f a bitch,” Magnus said with a grin.

  “Now”—Caldwell pulled a shirt over his head and walked toward the door—“let’s get us some coffee and you can tell me what’s going on.”

  “Sir, I really don’t think you—”

  “Have time for coffee? Son, if there isn’t time for coffee, then we’re already screwed, so what’s the difference?”

  Magnus sighed. “Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Magnus sat at the colonel’s small kitchen table, talking to Caldwell as fast as his brain would allow and still be coherent. He didn’t realize just how much had happened since their last meeting here on Worru and feared this was taking too much time. But sharing the details was too important to skip. The colonel needed to know everything if he was going to make an informed decision.

  When Magnus had finished, Caldwell said, “That’s all well and good, but it still doesn’t explain why you caught me in my bedroom with my pants down.”

  “To be fair to the saying, you actually caught me with my pants down.”

  “That I did,” the colonel said with a smile, sipping the last of his coffee. “So? What do you want from me?”

  “Well, sir, I was hoping you’d join us.” Magnus searched the colonel’s face for any sign of a reaction, but the man was unreadable.

  Caldwell cleared his throat. Then he licked the corner of his mouth as if searching for his ever-present cigar, and rotated his coffee mug on the table when he couldn’t find it. “You’ve got a lot of balls coming here. You know that, right?”

  “I do, colonel. And you know I wouldn’t have come unless it was serious.”

  The old man nodded. “And what, you hoping I can sling one of these fancy alien weapons and clear buildings with you? Is that it?”

  “Well, sir. Actually, I was hoping you’d help—”

  “Get the heat off your ass and clear your name with the brass?”

  Magnus’s eyes snapped up to meet his. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, but it seemed too far-fetched to be real. Given the charges of attempted murder of a senator and whatever else the Repub had cooked up about Magnus’s involvement with starting the Jujari war, the only thing that seemed like it would get them to stand down was his head on a platter.

  “Actually, sir, I was hoping you’d help build our team.”

  Caldwell stopped rotating his mug. “Then you’re serious about taking everyone on then.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Son.” Caldwell leaned into the table, making it creak. “You’re on Plumeria in the middle of the night about to break into the mystic-damned capital building to try and free prisoners charged with treason against the Luma and the Republic. So, yes—you’re about to take on everyone.”

  “Damn, colonel, you don’t need to be so enthusiastic about it.”

  Caldwell laughed. “And then you’re hoping I’m gonna what—help recruit Marines who might be second guessing their orders to stop you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Splick, son.” Caldwell took a deep breath and let his shoulders sag. “I’m getting too old for this.”

  Magnus raised an eyebrow. “So… is that a yes?”

  “You’re a damned son of a bitch, Adonis. Just like your grandfather. You know that, right?”

  A wave of relief flooded Magnus’s chest like… like a heating blanket on an old man’s bed.

  “I’ll help you however I can, son. I also felt Kane craved power for the sake of power, and now that he’s morphed into this Moldark fellow, well, he’s got a pile of hurt coming. On top of all that, I already know Master So-Elku is as vile as an old whore’s hanky holder, and in league with the senate to boot. The way I see it, the galaxy needs a push in the right direction, son. But I’m not sure you’re recruiting anyone on this side of the Corps. So far, there’s no reason for them to question the chain of command, not like what you’ve seen. And I don’t think we’ll have time to recruit any of my battalion stationed here on Worru. You’re on a tight schedule, ain’t you, son?”

  “Pretty damn tight, colonel. There’s just not enough time for you to speak to your commanders, not like what we’re doing here. And you haven’t asked me for proof like they will.”

  “And they’ll need it too.” The colonel seemed to grow solemn as his brow furrowed. “No, there’s not enough time. Which means this might turn ugly faster than a witch’s tits in a tornado.”

  Magnus suppressed a smile, knowing what the colonel really meant by things turning ugly. “While the fight for allegiances hasn’t come to them yet, it has to others. And that’s where your voice might help in the future. That’s where we need you, colonel. I need you.”

  “For those inside the Paragon, as you called it.”

  Magnus nodded. “I don’t believe all of them want to be there.”

  “People like your captured pilot.”

  “Exactly.”

  Caldwell scratched his chin, then gave a soft chuckle. “Desk rash is a lot worse than they say.”

  “So is trigger rash. But desks are a lot safer.”

  “Some might argue that point.” Caldwell looked straight at Magnus with one eye half closed. “You remember how I said I accepted this station to see if the Luma were on to something? On to another way of bringing peace to the galaxy?”

  “I remember you alluding to something of that nature, yeah.”

  “Well, they aren’t. Not the way I had hoped. They’re just like the suits in high towers of Capriana, making people dance but with different music. Desks kill as good as blasters. It’s just harder to tell who’s shooting at you. So, if there’s another way to figure this out, if there’s another fix for the galaxy? Leave it to a Magnus to figure it out.”

  “You’re really in then?”

  “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you turn off your heating pad and put your damned dentures in.”

  20

  Magnus and Caldwell made it back to the shuttles without incident, and with five minutes to spare.

  “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we, Magnus?” Awen said as he and the colonel came up the ramp and into the cargo bay congested with gladias.

  “Awen, this is Colonel Caldwell,” Magnus said, introducing the two of them. “Colonel, this is—”

  “Awen dau Lothlinium,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it.

  “Magnus, you never told me he was a gentleman.”

  The colonel waved off the comment before Magnus could answer. “Only royalty get their hands kissed, miss” he said.

  “We need to get him suited up,” Magnus said, pushing past them with a hint of a grin on his face. “Azie! I need a suit and an NOV1.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  “Everyone else, get ready to move out.” Magnus put his helmet on and repeated the order over comms for the other shuttle to hear. When he pulled it back off again, Caldwell was walking toward Azelon and a flight case that held a new Novia suit of armor and a weapon.

  “So you convinced him,” Awen said. “Nice work.”

  “Thanks. But it wasn’t that hard. The old man’s a pushover for a fight.”

  “I wouldn’t sell yourself too short, Magnus.”

  He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

  “You’ve got yourself quite a cause now. The way I see it, he would’ve been an idiot not to follow you.”

  “Let’s hope he feels that way.”

  “He does.”

  Magnus hesitated. “Wait, did you—”

  “He really respects you too, Magnus,” she said, lowering her voice.

  “But I thought there were Luma laws about not reading people’s minds without their consent.”

  “Luma laws, exactly. I haven’t written any for the Gladio Umbra yet. Plus, you really think I’m letting a Repub Colonel on this team without making sure he’s not hiding anything?”

  Suddenly, a wave of panic gripped Magnus’s chest. If she’d read Caldwell’s mind
about his allegiance, had she read his mind about his past with Argus and Nos Kil? He swore in his head. I do not need this head game right now.

  “You okay?” Awen asked.

  “Yeah, fine. You?”

  Awen winced. “Yeah… Magnus I… Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

  “Sounds good.” He looked across the bay. “Azie?”

  “He’s almost ready, sir.”

  “Damn suit is a little tight around the midsection,” Caldwell said.

  “Desk life’s a bitch, ain’t it, colonel,” Dutch said, walking to help the man with the plate armor.

  “Corporal Dutch?” Caldwell asked, seeming to recognize her.

  “It’s just Dutch now, sir. You can drop the corporal.”

  “I can see my assigning you to Magnus turned out to be quite the commission.”

  “And I can see you put on a few kilos since the last time I stood in your office.”

  “Watch it. I can still court-martial you.”

  Dutch yanked on a plate strap that squeezed the colonel’s gut. “Nah, you can’t.”

  * * *

  “You remember what I told you, Piper?”

  The little girl in the power suit looked back at Awen and nodded. “Stick with you, look for enemies, keep our teammates from getting hurt without killing anyone to do it.”

  “Good girl. And if we get separated?”

  “Make my way back here to the shuttles and wait for further instructions from Azelon.”

  “Right.” Awen patted Piper down to make sure her suit was on right. Then she double checked her helmet before handing it to her.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, shydoh,” Piper said, taking the helmet. “I won’t let you down.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Awen muttered.

  “What’s that?”

  Awen smiled. “Nothing. Put that on and get ready. Magnus will be giving the order any second.” Awen couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Piper squint when she said Magnus’s name. “You okay?”