Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  He was about to finish her off when a stream of blaster fire struck his side, forcing him to leap away or risk losing his shield altogether—his HUD displayed 17% power remaining. Rohoar grabbed two bodies off the ground and used them as shields as he charged into a cluster of Marines huddled behind a cargo container. Blaster fire riddled the corpses, drilling the armor with holes and smoke, as Rohoar bashed the troopers back. He roared, then snapped at weapons and swatted heads.

  Clear of immediate danger, Rohoar used the opportunity to survey the room. A paragon trooper managed to grab onto Titus, grasping him in a bear-hold from behind. Titus stabbed blindly at the man’s torso, but the trooper’s armor was deflecting most of the blows. Suddenly, Abimbola came up behind both men and lifted the Paragon trooper and Titus over his head. Panic-stricken, the trooper dropped Titus, who rolled harmlessly along the ground. Then Abimbola hurled the enemy fifteen meters against the nearest wall. He is nearly as strong as a Jujari, Rohoar thought to himself and pulled his chops back in a toothy grin.

  Rohoar and his gladia had made quick work of at least two dozen troopers—but the fight was far from over. Additionally, Rohoar saw reinforcements fill in from a side doorway with their blasters raised. Just then, auto turrets dropped from the ceiling, but they spun in circles, attempting to gain target locks. The Novian armor worked well to dispel the initial sensor sweeps, but Rohoar knew it wouldn’t be long before the weapons picked up life signs.

  And, apparently, Magnus knew it too. He ordered Silk and Dutch to open fire on the turrets, and then let Doc and Nubs loose on the second wave of troopers. With energy origin points, the turrets and weapons focused on the gladias’ positions and opened fire.

  Rohoar looked across the open ground and up the dais where Piper and Moldark stood. Saladin must’ve sensed his concern through their pack connection. “She will be kept safe,” she said, pausing behind a large structural truss. “I swear it.”

  “As I do,” Rohoar replied. Then he noticed Magnus and Awen’s outlines and name tags in his HUD. They were moving along the window, still invisible to the enemy. “Come. We have glory to obtain.”

  “As you have spoken.” Saladin snarled, then dove toward a group of three troopers.

  Rohoar checked his shield, now at 6%, and then looked at as his next target.

  32

  Magnus marveled at the destructive force that Rohoar and Saladin unleashed on the unsuspecting guards. In a matter of seconds, the two Jujari had eviscerated, maimed, beheaded, or dismembered two dozen guards. The remainder tried to stop the invisible fury with their blasters, but the Jujari seemed unstoppable. Magnus noticed Rohoar’s shield drop to less than 10% and worried his friend was in trouble, but with Abimbola and Titus’s help, Rohoar managed to stay clear of further blaster fire.

  “Turrets,” Dutch called out.

  “Take them out,” Magnus said. A second later, Dutch and Silk blew two auto turrets off the ceiling. Three more pairs appeared, but they met the same fate, exploding into countless fragments of red-hot metal and a blaze of sparks under the two women’s deadly sniper fire.

  “Reinforcements,” Nubs called out and raised his blaster at new Marines filing in from side doors.

  “Engage. Keep them busy.” Then Magnus looked at Awen and motioned for her to follow him. They ran to the window and then turned to race along it.

  Ahead, Moldark studied the conflict from atop his dais. Piper, however, was crumpled on the ground. Magnus felt his heart stop cold, but still, his legs pumped, pushing him faster toward the target. Magnus raised his NOV1 and sighted in on Moldark. He squeezed the trigger, and his weapon belted out a rapid-fire stream of blue bolts. Magnus’s mind reported that the target went down. But through the smoke, Magnus saw Moldark still standing.

  The enemy turned, leveled his eyes on Magnus, then smiled. Magnus couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Suddenly, some sort of translucent wall vibrated a meter in front of him.

  “Keep going,” Awen yelled from behind. “I’ve got you!”

  Magnus had no idea what was going on. But he refocused and then bounded up the dais, taking three steps at a time. His heart pounded in his chest as the wall in front of him vibrated again and again. It was almost like Awen was blocking waves of invisible attacks from Moldark.

  Magnus raised his blaster a second time, now less than seven meters away, and fired. Combined with his body’s speed, the burst of gunfire was tantamount to point-blank. But, again, the rounds seemed to do little but catch Moldark’s black suit on fire. It was like the energy was absorbed right into his body.

  The words “Be careful” registered in Magnus’s mind as he charged Moldark. But adrenaline and rage had overtaken Magnus to such a degree that he was on autopilot. Subconsciously, he noted Piper’s crumpled form behind Moldark. So Magnus switched his weapon to full auto, aligned it with Moldark’s center mass, and squeezed the trigger.

  The NOV1’s muzzle erupted in a blaze of blinding light as the weapon drained an entire magazine. Magnus knew the rounds were on target, drilling Moldark into dust. The enemy disappeared in black smoke. But as Awen’s force field pushed the fog aside, Moldark’s face popped out.

  Magnus jolted in surprise, but he was going too fast to change course. Instead, he and Awen’s shield struck Moldark, and the two men toppled over the far side of the platform. Awen’s force field disappeared as they flipped down the stairs. Suddenly, Magnus felt something pierce his chest.

  “Magnus,” someone shouted. He thought it was Awen, but the ringing in his ears overpowered her voice. Pain exploded from his sternum. It was as if someone had taken a red-hot prod and pressed it through his ribcage to his spine. He tried to move—tried to yell—but his body was a slave to the pain.

  Again, someone called his name, but it felt like the speaker’s voice was part of an underwater dream. Nothing could be as loud, as all-consuming, as the torment he was experiencing. It was like something was trying to suck out his very soul. Magnus wanted to shoot whatever it was—to end it. But he was paralyzed. That’s when he realized that the only thing worse than death was the fear of not being able to do anything about it. He felt helpless in light of this all-consuming force. For the first time in a long time, Magnus was afraid.

  Then, all at once, the pain stopped.

  Magnus flopped onto something irregular—not flat like a floor, but bulbous. Like a body. He blinked several times, then focused on his HUD.

  Moldark’s razor-like teeth snapped at his visor. Magnus jerked, rolled to the side, and landed on his back. Again, the same translucent shield vibrated a few centimeters above his chest. He looked up the dais and saw Awen descending toward him. She’d established the shield and cut off whatever Moldark was trying to do to him. She was also saying something—over and over.

  “GET UP,” Magnus finally heard her yell. He snapped out of his daze and rolled away from Moldark. Then he pressed himself up and brought his weapon around.

  “DON’T SHOOT,” Awen said next. “STOP!”

  Magnus hesitated, looking from Moldark back to Awen. Moldark took notice of the mystic racing toward him and turned to face her. The same kind of shield that had protected Magnus now shimmered in front of Awen. But the block seemed weaker than the earlier ones, until it disappeared completely. Magnus guessed that Awen had given him the majority of her energy, sparing little for her defense.

  Awen choked, but no noise came from her mouth. Instead, her advancing body arched through the air like she’d been on the end of a pole. Moldark followed her overhead, tracking with her until she slammed on the floor.

  Heeding her warning, Magnus slung his NOV1 and withdrew his tactical knife. He flipped his grip, leaped at Moldark, then drove the knife into the soft tissue between the neck and shoulder. Moldark roared and twisted so forcefully that Magnus was thrown into the steps. Had it not been for his helmet’s protection, Magnus would have been knocked unconscious.

  Magnus blinked then saw Moldark stal
king him. The good news was that, a few meters away, Awen climbed to her hands and knees. The bad news was that Magnus’s knife was still protruding from Moldark’s shoulder.

  “You fool,” Moldark hissed. Whatever Moldark was doing, the pain struck Magnus again—only this time it was more powerful. Magnus cried out, feeling as if every cell in his body was rupturing. He’d never wanted to die before, but at that moment, death would have been a relief.

  Death, however, didn’t come—but concentrated blaster fire did. The rounds pelted Moldark’s side, tearing holes into his clothes, even boring into his flesh. And yet the man—the monster—didn’t go down. Not in the slightest. If anything, he seemed stronger.

  “Stop,” Magnus ordered, feeling a wave of relief as Moldark’s attack subsided. “Stop shooting at him!”

  “He absorbs it,” Awen added, turning on the enemy and resuming her shield around Magnus. But then Moldark focused on those who’d fired on him.

  The next thing Magnus knew, Nubs flew through the air and stopped two meters in front of Moldark. The gladia’s telecolos system shorted out, and Nubs’s armor came into view. With his body hovering a few centimeters off the ground, Nubs spasmed, sputtering over comms. Magnus raised his NOV1 in an attempt to fire, but before he could, Nubs’s suit of armor clattered to the floor. Dust swirled up from the helmet and heap of plates.

  “You son of a bitch,” Magnus roared and ran toward Moldark. Magnus reached down and picked up Nubs’ knife while the other blade still protruded from Moldark’s shoulder.

  Black eyes gleaming in the blaster fire, Moldark tried once again to reach out and hit Magnus with whatever mystical powers he possessed. But Awen regained her strength and kept Magnus safe, enveloping him with a shield.

  Magnus capitalized on the defense and lunged with his knife. Moldark parried, but the blade sliced through the enemy’s forearm, splitting his sleeve and opening a long red furrow. As Moldark retaliated—swinging high—Magnus raised his arm and blocked the blow meant for his head. The Unity shield glimmered as each man struck the other. Finally, Magnus thrust his knife at Moldark’s abdomen, but the blade was knocked free, accented by another glimmer from Awen’s force field.

  Moldark roared, and Awen’s shield dispelled a new attack—but she seemed to struggle with the effort. Frustrated, Magnus thrust his knife at the enemy’s face, but Moldark caught Magnus’s wrist and drove his arm up. Then the enemy jabbed with his free hand, but Magnus caught Moldark’s fist. The two combatants faced each other, heads half a meter apart, while Awen’s force field reverberated between them—a shimmering wall of otherworldly light.

  “I’ve secured Piper,” a voice said over VNET. Magnus saw Willowood’s name tag light up as the communication came in, but he could not risk taking his eyes off Moldark. The old woman must’ve snuck up the dais and retrieved the unconscious child during the fight, which may have explained why Nubs was unprotected against Moldark’s attack.

  “Leave him,” Awen said, her voice strained.

  Moldark snarled at Magnus, saliva and blood sputtering through cracked lips. His black hate-filled eyes flared as he said, “You cannot stop me, human.”

  “A little help here,” Magnus said to Awen, ignoring Moldark.

  “I’ll try to contain him, but I’ll need help.”

  Magnus double-checked to make sure the squad channel was still open. “Willowood, Nídira—you available?”

  Moldark snapped his teeth at Magnus’s helmet, but Awen’s protective bubble kept the gladia safe—at least for another few seconds.

  Suddenly, a new translucent field appeared, but this one encompassed Moldark. Magnus noticed Awen’s shield disappear, and then she turned to Moldark, adding her strength to the other two mystics’ containment field. The enemy thrashed inside the bubble, lunging at Magnus, then spun on his heels and darted at Awen. But the bubble held.

  Magnus’s shield took three direct hits in the back. He spun to see two Paragon Marines aiming at him from behind crates. Knife still in hand, Magnus brought his NOV1 into high ready position and opened fire. The first Marine was struck in the head and disappeared behind the box. Magnus hit the second Marine in the shoulder, spinning him out into the open, and then dropped him with two shots in the chest. Then Magnus ran behind a column.

  Blaster fire peppered Magnus’s cover, but he was safe for the moment. He needed to assess his unit’s condition. Magnus glanced at Awen and saw her running toward the two teams, while Moldark remained fixed in place, still throwing a fit in his temporary prison. Rohoar, Abimbola, and Titus had fallen back and resorted to blasters now that Piper was secure behind their perimeter. But more Paragon troopers continued to pour into Moldark’s bay from the west and brought the heat. Enemy bolts deflected off a single energy shield that Nídira erected, leaving Willowood and Awen to manage Moldark on their own. Piper, dressed in a small black naval suit, lay unconscious in Willowood’s arms.

  “Where’s Saladin?” Magnus asked.

  “We cannot get to her,” Rohoar said with a growl in his throat.

  “What? Where is she?” He scanned the room from the column’s safety and saw her outline behind some shipping containers. But she was pinned down by heavy enemy fire. “Splick.”

  “Leave me,” Saladin said. “This fight will be my last.”

  “No way,” Magnus said. They were too close to her to leave her behind. But the amount of enemy fire had increased enough that Magnus questioned his confidence in a rescue effort. The mission was to rescue Piper, no matter the cost. But he’d already lost Nubs—he would not lose another.

  “Hold on, Saladin.” Magnus swapped out his rear mag for a fresh one. “We’re coming for you.”

  “Negative, scrumruk graulap. My glory has come.”

  “Like hell it has.”

  “Do not advance,” Rohoar said over comms. It took a split second for Magnus to realize the Jujari was talking to him, not Saladin.

  “Belay that, furball,” Magnus said.

  “No,” the Jujari said. “She has issued her last wish.”

  Magnus balked. “I don’t have time for this. We need to move out. Granther Company, I’m gonna need something faster than that tunnel.”

  “Sir. I may have something for you, sir,” Cyril said.

  “Make it snappy, kid.”

  “Gotcha, gotcha. There’s a power substation directly behind your position to the east. I just managed to get the doors unlocked, and you should be able to cross through it and gain access to your section’s main lateral corridor. As long as you and the other fire teams retreat north, you—”

  “Should be able to group amidships,” Magnus said, finishing Cyril’s thought.

  “Yeah. Exactly, sir.”

  “Got it.”

  New waypoints appeared in Magnus’s HUD. Two retreating routes ran parallel to one another and then converged halfway down the ship. From there, they ran to the shuttle bay’s south door. Magnus pinged the rest of the company. “Proceed to the highlighted routes. Teams Charlie, Delta, Echo, meet us at Zulu Zero Five. Confirm.”

  “Roger that,” Zoll said. “We’ll see you there.”

  To Alpha and Bravo Teams, Magnus said, “A little cover?”

  “No problem, buckethead,” Abimbola said. A fresh wave of blaster rounds erupted from the defensive line. Magnus ducked out from the column and dashed for Saladin’s location, but his shield took two more hits, dropping it to 3%. The next hits would be plate armor only, and that wouldn’t hold long.

  “What are you doing, Magnus?” Rohoar yelled.

  “Saving your kin!”

  “Stand down,” Rohoar replied, his voice as stern as Magnus had ever heard it. “And return yourself to cover before I have to drag you myself.”

  Not that Magnus had much choice: blaster rounds peppered the ground all around him until he was forced to halt his advance and retreat behind Nídira’s safety shield. He pushed on Rohoar’s arm. “What the hell, hyena?”

  “Do not call me that.�
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  “You gonna help me get her or not?”

  “She has summoned her glory.”

  Magnus was furious. “Dammit, Rohoar! What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “Magnus,” Awen said in a gentle voice. “Saladin is mortally wounded. According to their warrior customs, she is going to help secure our escape with a final act of bravery.”

  “Like hell! I’m not losing another one.”

  “You already have,” Awen said. “She’s made up her mind, and I don’t think we can keep Moldark contained much longer.”

  “Please depart,” Saladin said, followed by several deep coughs. “So I may make good on my fate.”

  Magnus punched his chest once and then shook his head. Then he felt a paw touch his shoulder. “It is all right, scrumruk graulap. It is the way of our people, and we must go.”

  Magnus nodded blindly at Rohoar. “Saladin?”

  She coughed. “Yes, Magnus?”

  “Dominate.”

  “Lib—Liberate.”

  Magnus took a deep breath then watched as the enemy continued to fill the observation deck. The mystics’ shields wouldn’t hold much longer. Reluctantly, Magnus pointed to the door Cyril had unlocked. “Let’s move!”

  Once his units were underway, Magnus opened the Taursar Company Commander channel. “Forbes. Do you copy?” The channel was open, and at first all Magnus heard was breathing and the muffled sounds of large-caliber blaster fire.

  “A little busy here, boss,” Forbes said. “Whaddya need?”

  “We’re gonna be coming in hot, south entry.”

  “Might be a problem,” Forbes replied. “There’s a TS40 blocking it at the moment.”

  “Well, can you move it?”

  “After we take care of the one ripping up your shuttle, yes. Probably.”

  Magnus cursed. “How bad is it?”

  “Bad enough. Stand by.” To someone else, Forbes yelled, “It’s breaking left. Left!”

  “Just get ready for us, Forbes.”