He wanted to yell something back, to question what good the Unity was if not for this, when Piper spoke over comms. “I can see it, shydoh,” she said.
Awen’s voice sounded surprised. “You can?”
“Could one of you please be more specific?” Magnus asked, downing a fourth creature.
“I can see So-Elku’s design coming from the Nexus. He’s asked the people in the crypts—”
“Can someone please tell me what she’s talking about?” Magnus interrupted.
“He’s reanimated the corpses using the Nexus,” Awen said.
“The what?”
“The Nexus.”
“Never mind. Can you stop it?”
“No,” Awen replied. “I don’t think so.” She glanced at Piper. “Do you see a way to stop them?”
Piper shook her head. “No. They just seem sad.”
Magnus furrowed his brow at Piper’s comment. “Then we’ll have to hold them back with conventional weapons.” Over his louder speaker, now maxed to 100%, he yelled, “Everyone up the stairs! Alpha Platoon, defend the stairwell!”
Blasters screamed, drilling the oncoming crash of corpses that assailed the retreating Luma. Whatever they lacked in structural integrity, they made up for in sheer numbers. How many mystics did they bury down here? As if to reinforce the legitimacy of his question, the far stairwell that they’d just come from spit out more corpses.
“Keep them back,” Magnus ordered. Valerie, Haney, and Gilder defended the left side while Dutch, Sootriman, and Ezo defended the right. They walked backward toward the stairwell as more Luma filed up of the circular staircase.
“You seeing this too, ’Six?”
“If by this you mean an unexplained phenomenon whereby the bodily remains of deceased humanoid lifeforms have been reanimated for the purposes of dispatching intruders—namely, us—then yes, I am seeing this.”
While the bot spoke, Magnus used his eyes to select TO-96’s sensors suite, pulled up his optical sensors, and opened a small window in his HUD to see what the robot was looking at. TO-96 pivoted in a circular fashion, spraying a near-constant stream of fire from his XM31 Type-R wrist-mounted blaster, while his other hand released one micro-rocket after another into a grouping of the creatures further back.
“Well aren’t you a one-stop munitions shop,” Magnus said, smiling at the carnage the bot was dishing out.
“I disagree, sir. None of my munitions are for sale, at least insomuch as neither Ezo nor Azelon have given me that directive.”
Magnus chuckled and put down two more creatures. “Dutch, VOD on this stairwell. I want it shut down.”
“Copy that.”
“Everyone else, head upstairs.”
The gladias peeled off the formation and ducked into the stairwell while Magnus and Dutch drew together. There seemed to be no end to the reanimated corpses, and Magnus couldn’t believe he was wasting so much ammo killing things that were already dead.
Dutch stowed her NOV1 and pulled out a VOD—variable output detonator. But not the old Repub version. This was the new Novia one Magnus had engineered with Azelon.
“Now or never,” he said to her.
Dutch thumbed the selector pad three times and then gave Magnus a nod. “Fire in the hole.” Magnus stepped aside for Dutch to retreat up the stairs behind him. Then he gave one last spray across the flooded room to keep the creatures back before darting up the circular stairwell.
Four beats later, a thunderous explosion shook the stairwell and brought chunks of stone down from the ceiling. The debris blasted off Magnus as his HUD flickered once from the fireball that licked his armor. A cloud of white dust and flames shot past him and went up and around the curve. He imagined it burst out on the next level like a dragon’s burp.
His personal shield had dropped to 74% as he rounded the last corner and emerged into TO-96’s level. The hallway was now full of Luma and gladias, driving a path through the undead with TO-96 in the lead. Magnus joined Dutch and started picking off assailants that tried picking at the weaker Luma.
“We could use a little help down here,” Magnus said over the company channel. “Just… don’t get freaked out.”
“Jujari do not get freaked out,” Rohoar said, overemphasizing the words. “We are coming.”
A few seconds later, Magnus saw several Jujari appear at the opposite end of the hallway. Rohoar’s voice sounded strained. “I take it back. I think I am experiencing the sensation of freaked out.”
“Just take out as many as you can,” Magnus instructed, trying to suppress the smile forming his lips’ edge. He watched as bodies started flying to the left and right, limbs and skulls popping off the corpses as they slammed into the walls. Bits of bodies pelted the ceiling as the Jujari moved through the crowded corridor. It was like watching a spotted Meglavton hedgebore burrow its way through a pack of unsuspecting flapperskrill. And Magnus revelled in it. If there was one thing those Jujari knew how to do, it was shred enemies from life and limb—or, in this case, death and limb.
Once Rohoar and his platoon met TO-96 in the middle, they formed a two-sided phalanx that ran the length of the hallway. The new thoroughfare allowed the Luma to make a run to the far side stairwell, which they did without any instruction. Meanwhile, Magnus and Dutch helped defend the closing end of the phalanx, relieving gladias to peel away and head toward the stairwell.
“Someone give me a SITREP,” Magnus ordered.
“Exfil of the Luma is nearly complete, sir,” came TO-96’s voice. Magnus could see him on the topo map standing just beside the stairwell’s mouth, defending it from the creatures who seemed to think his metal body would make a delicious treat. “Good. The rest of you file out of here just as fast. Dutch, I want one more VOD. Maximum damage. Take it off my hip this time.” He didn’t want her using more of her ordinance than she needed to. Better to share the resources than have one person go wanting when they needed it most.
Magnus and Dutch continued to backpedal as the beasties grew in number, filling in their wake as the stairwell grew closer. Magnus fired on corpse after corpse, shredding joints, eviscerating stomachs, and decapitating skulls under this NOV1’s withering rate of fire.
“Ten meters,” TO-96 said, coaching him and Dutch as they neared the exit. “Delta Platoon is clear. Only you, Valerie, and Haney remain.”
Magnus heard a scream over comms. Out of the corner of his eye, a boney hand drove into Haney’s shoulder joint. The gladia was yanked forward and pulled into the undulating sea of corpses. “Haney, no!” It was all Magnus could think to say as the former Marine medic was swept out of sight. Two seconds later, his icon blinked out on Magnus’s HUD.
“Bastards,” Magnus cried out as he leveled the next several creatures that tried to reach for him and Dutch.
“I’m good,” Dutch exclaimed, ready to toss the VOD.
“Do it.”
Dutch tossed the fruit-sized device and then ducked into the stairs to cover Magnus’s retreat. He drilled one final corpse in the top of the head before stepping up and into the curved stairwell. “Move your ass, Dutch! I can still see it from here!”
Dutch replied instantly by finding an extra gear in her step, then pulling up and away from Magnus’s field of view. He’d lost track of the count in his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even asked Dutch how much time she’d given them—which made Magnus take the steps even faster.
His servo-assist whined as he barreled up the torch-lit corridor, knowing that Elder’s Hall must be less than ten meters away. The light from the domed room began to warm the top of the steps when the VOD detonated.
The blast sucked the air from the stairwell, pulling back on Magnus’s body for a split second, and then sent an energy wave back through the passage. Magnus felt the blast push him forward. He meant to take the next few steps in conjunction with the assist, but the force was far greater than he expected. Instead, the shockwave flung him up and out of the stairwell like a cannon shot.
&nb
sp; Magnus flew out of the passage and tucked into a roll. His back hit the marble floor and slid away from the opening, NOV1 trained on the collapsing passageway. When he finally came to a halt beside someone’s boots, Caldwell’s voice said, “Get up, son.” The colonel helped Magnus stand and brushed some dust off his armor.
“You okay, buckethead?” Abimbola asked.
“I…” Magnus patted himself down and double checked his shield. The status bar read 52%. “I’m good. Thanks.” Then he turned and surveyed the room.
Elder’s Hall was now filled with over fifty Luma and more than half of Granther Company—the rest of the gladias were still outside on the steps.
“Is everyone okay?” Magnus asked.
“We’ve lost Haney,” Gilder said.
Magnus felt a heart pang cinch around his throat. “I saw it.”
“And we lost three Luma,” Willowood said. “We are down to fifty-one”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Magnus replied.
“What were those things down there?” Abimbola asked.
“Not now, Bimby. We make it out of this, you can replay the footage all you want.”
“I’ll pass.” Then Abimbola made that strange shape in front of his chest again.
“What does that mean?” Dutch asked Abimbola. “That little thing you just did?”
Magnus waved off the question. “Hey, if it helps to ward off evil spirits like the ones they just encountered down there, I’m all for the Miblimbian’s mystical arts splick.”
“As am I,” TO-96 said, mimicking Abimbola’s movement exactly. “Though I have no idea what these motions do.”
“Stick to your Type-R blaster, pal,” Silk replied. “It’s way more effective.”
“Thank you for the advice, Silk. I’m most grateful.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Magnus?” a voice said over comms.
“Go ahead, Titus.”
“Better wrap it up in there. We’ve got more company.”
23
Awen followed Magnus out of Elder’s Hall and rushed onto the upper landing where Titus stood. Her eyes looked past the large staircase, up the red carpet, and stopped near the Grand Arielina’s main entrance. Several dozen Luma stepped out of the darkness and spread out along the colonnade. Their dark blue robes sent a chill up Awen’s spine.
“This isn’t good,” Awen said to Magnus on a private channel.
“Why not?”
“Those are the Blue Guard.”
“And?”
“And what? They’re assigned to protect the Master even unto death.”
“We beat them last time.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, we did.”
Awen turned on him, slowing her words. “No, you didn’t. They’re only called out when the Master says the city or his own life are in grave danger. And trust me, your last showing? It didn’t constitute either.”
“Now that just hurts.” Magnus said in a playful tone. “Guess we just need to leave a better impression this time. Can Willowood’s Luma handle them?”
“I think so, but what about the codex?”
“You tell me. Any word on its whereabouts?”
Awen shook her head. “He’s locked the whole city up in the Unity. It’s almost impossible to get a read on anything right now. I can’t even find So-Elku himself. For all I know, he’s not even on the planet.”
“Okay, just calm down.”
Awen hadn’t even realized her heart rate had gone up. She was grateful for Magnus’s steadying words.
“Let’s just think it through. Before, you said it was probably in So-Elku’s personal quarters.”
“I did.”
“And where’s that?”
“Two levels up.”
“Well, give me the Luma and then go take a look with Piper. But be fast. I don’t want to waste any more time on it than we need to.”
* * *
Magnus ordered the company to spread out along the landing and take cover behind the columns going down the sides of the staircase. They had the high ground… but he seriously doubted how much of this conflict would be won by conventional weapons and strategy.
“Granther Company, prepare to engage. Watch for friendlies.”
“But how will we know which Luma are friendlies?” Nubs asked.
“They won’t be the ones trying to kill us, numbskull,” Dozer replied.
Abimbola shut the exchange down. “Keep that off the company channel, you two.”
“Sorry, boss,” they replied, almost in unison.
“Willowood?” Magnus asked. “Can you hear me?”
“I can, Magnus. And your company is receiving my voice though your comms?”
“We are.”
“Good. I suggest you remain where you are and let us handle the first wave. Your blasters will do only minor damage until we negate their personal force fields.”
“Understood. Is there anything else we can do until then?”
Willowood let out a half laugh, like a forceful sigh through a smile. “I’m beginning to see why she likes you so much.”
Magnus raised his eyebrows. “I…”
“To answer your question, yes. If any of the blue robed Luma break off and head toward you, shoot them.”
“But what about their personal force fields?”
“Just pray to the mystics that you have enough magazines. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Suddenly, more than thirty Luma dressed in burgundy and black robes raced forward on either side of Magnus and then charged down the stairs. He looked further down the hallway to see the blue robed Luma begin to run as well.
“Steady, gladias,” Magnus said over comms. “Let them take this wave. Fingers off the triggers.”
The two groups of red and blue robes charged one another, several of them yelling as the battle lines closed. To Magnus’s amazement, it was the old woman Willowood who outpaced them all.
* * *
Willowood hadn’t felt this much adrenaline since… She couldn’t even remember a time. But it felt good. The last time she’d been given a fair fight on an open field was decades before, perhaps during the Miblimbian conflict. Instead, she’d grown accustomed to the head games played in Elder’s Hall and political posturing of the court. It was numbing, so much so that she often wondered why she’d remained here for so long.
But she knew why. It was her love for teaching and her love of the students. Worru, in its heyday, had been a place of learning, of true acceptance. She had thrived here, relishing the halls of academia for the freedom it afforded her. Ideas weren’t tossed aside in knee-jerk reactions simply because they conflicted with partisan politics. Instead, they were examined inside and out, heralded for their virtues and critiqued with careful justice for their faults.
But now, it had come to this—a fight to the death between a wolf in sheep’s clothing and the flock that had looked to him for protection. With his Blue Guard charging at her, she guessed So-Elku couldn’t be far.
Willowood counted at least three dozen Luma racing at her. To call this a fair fight wasn’t exactly accurate—she’d trained most of these Luma, now turned enemies. Which meant she knew their moves better than they did.
The art of Li-Loré had been entrusted only to a few, those charged with defending the Master, and those sent on dark errands that were never recorded in the Order’s archives. Fortunately, both instances were scarce. That is, until recently. Ever since So-Elku’s term as Master began, Willowood had noticed a shift in policies. And a shift in the Unity. She hadn’t been able to connect all the dots, but when she’d seen So-Elku restrain Awen, that had been enough to tell her who the real enemy was.
The first attacker was a young man named Ouin. She’d known him since he was a boy. Now, however, he was no longer a child, but a highly disciplined warrior who’d committed himself to preserving peace in ways no one dared talk about outside these hallowed halls.
“Ouin,�
�� she yelled, hoping to catch him by surprise. But the man didn’t hesitate in the least. He ran to meet her, hands swirling in a powered attack. Willowood sighed and crossed her forearms.
A ball of energy culminated in front of his chest and then leaped from his hands. Willowood deflected the blast and sidestepped Ouin’s charge, bringing her hand down to touch the back of his neck. Instantly, the man crumpled to the floor. He’d survive.
The next attack came from a woman named Sonja. Willowood had been her benefactor in her final year of observances, signing the requisite documents to get her into the Blue Guard. Now Sonja pulled one hand back and pushed the other forward, attempting to overpower the old woman.
Willowood ducked under the strike and spun in a circle. Her robes and wiry hair twirled about as she came up behind Sonja and punched her in the spine. The blow would not cause any long-term damage, but it would paralyze her for a day or more.
The third combatant, one Willowood did not recognize, seemed to hesitate when he saw Ouin and Sonja’s bodies on the floor.
“You don’t have to join them,” Willowood said, bringing her hands up in a defensive pose.
But the man sneered at her and charged. Willowood caught his right wrist in a forearm lock, flipped her body around to twist his arm in an unnatural fashion, and then fell to the ground, hurling the attacker over her head. He flew a short distance, stripped of energy, and landed unconscious on the hallway’s red carpet.
Willowood paused to survey how the other Luma were doing in the opening seconds of the conflict. While a few knew Li-Loré, employing it against their various assailants with great skill, the large majority did not. Instead, they employed more general defenses—slowing physical attacks, deploying force fields, and resisting opponents in the Unity.
Most thought of Li-Loré as a physical art, but practitioners knew it was far more than that. In reality, it began—like all things—in the Unity. Learning to harness energy, to coax it into a malleable expression that manifested as a physical movement, was a years-long process reserved for only the most adept.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 119
