Further back, more mystics followed the single-file line, while five or six held the wall. Magnus looked up to see the massive beam that had caused so much trouble moments ago—he was nearly through. “Almost there,” he said to Awen, but she didn’t reply. Instead, her body shook like she’d plunged in a bath of ice water. “Just a few more steps.”
Magnus looked back and saw more blaster rounds penetrate the Unity shield. They bounced off the wreckage and struck one mystic in the chest. He collapsed in a heap.
Magnus felt the wreckage lurch. He was about to heave Awen away, but everything held. When Magnus felt hands on his sides, he let them guide him clear of the threshold and then slowly pulled Awen with him. The other four mystics followed, but then stopped, apparently choosing to stand near the blast door’s opening. Magnus continued to hold Awen’s hands as more mystics funneled out of the narrow shaft. Then they ran their last few steps and sprinted clear.
“Is everyone out?” Sion asked Magnus over VNET.
Magnus double-checked his roster and then saw the four remaining mystics’ outlines. They still held the shield, but now they advanced toward the enemy—putting distance between themselves and the wreckage. “Okay, you’re good to go,” Magnus said. “Everyone’s clear.”
“It’s been a pleasure serving you, Magnus,” Sion said. “May your cause outlive our lives.”
Magnus squinted in confusion. “What the hell?” In the next moment, all four mystics went nova.
35
The explosion was so violent that Magnus nearly fell off his feet. The deck thundered, shaking the Labyrinth’s port side. New alarms went off, and an automated voice alerted the crew to a hull breach several sections aft. Whatever catastrophic suicide event the four mystics created, they directed it down the corridor’s far end and spared the retreating gladia.
“Thank you, brothers,” Awen said, her voice tired and barely audible. Then she collapsed.
“Whoa, easy there.” Magnus caught her beneath the armpits. He hadn’t even noticed that she and Granther’s other mystics had released the wreckage—he’d been too busy thinking they were all going to die from the massive explosion. “I need some help here!” In seconds, the fire teams raced over to help carry the exhausted mystics back to the shuttles. “I want them secured. And get those two shuttles fired up and ready for evac.”
“One shuttle,” Forbes corrected, running toward Magnus.
“Come again?”
“The second shuttle is too badly damaged to use.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me right now.” Magnus turned in a circle, surveying the hangar bay, and called up Cyril. “We need another evac plan, kid.”
“Evac plan. Okay, okay, okay. And I confirm what Captain Forbes said. The second shuttle is in no shape to fly. No way, no how.”
“So whaddya got?”
There was a long pause filled only with the sound of Cyril’s nasally breathing.
“Cyril?”
“Got it, sir. There appears to be a Paragon shuttle in the next bay, directly forward of your current position. I’m pretty sure Azelon and I can hack it through the node.”
“I need more than pretty sure, kid,” Magnus said.
“I’m super sure. I mean, I’ve never done it, but the principle is easy enough, so I’m sure I can do it once you—”
“Then how do we get to it?”
“Through there,” Forbes said, pointing toward the south corridor. It was piled with wreckage, and sensor data showed plenty of life signs between the gaps—Marines.
“We don’t have time for this,” Magnus said. “I need options.”
“There is another way to access the hangar, sir,” Cyril said.
As if reading the code slicer’s thoughts, Forbes turned and looked toward the blue environmental containment force field that shimmered against the void. “He’s right, Magnus.”
“You want me doing a spacewalk?” Magnus asked.
“That’s an affirmative confirmation, sir,” Cyril replied. “It’s just like a holo game. Your suit’s maglock capability works for more than just weapons, you know.”
Magnus was about to react to the code slicer when Dutch stopped him. “I can do it, LT,” she said as she walked up to him. “My last pre-deployment workup included a section on exterior ship maintenance and repair.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Magnus replied and started walking toward the force field.
“But sir—”
“Negative, Dutch. Forbes, I want that shuttle filled, triage priority assessment in effect. And you’re taking Piper. If anything happens to us, you make damn sure she gets back to the Spire.”
“You got it.”
“Granther Company, you’re last out, along with anyone else who can’t fit aboard Forbes’ party barge. Except you, Willowood. You’re going with your granddaughter and Awen.” Willowood faced Magnus but had the good sense not to argue with him. Smart lady. Her cadres would be fine without her—it was Piper who needed her most. “Colonel, you listening?”
“Like a teenage boy to a hooker’s call line,” Caldwell replied.
Magnus smiled. “How close is our air support?”
“Two minutes. But I’ll have you talk to TO-96 directly.”
“I’m right here, sir,” the bot said, his avatar appearing in the lower left of Magnus’s HUD. “Hello, Magnus.”
“Update me.”
“Very good, sir. All three squadrons are en route now. They’ve successfully eliminated the enemy Talons and are leading the surviving starships back toward the fleet. Since fleet command thinks they’re in for an assault, the last thing they’ll expect is an immediate about-face, all but ensuring your getaway. Azelon will be ready to adversely affect their sensors in order to mask your retreat trajectory.”
“Okay, but there are two ships now, not three. And we’re gonna have different timelines.”
“I see. What will the offset be?”
“That depends on Cyril and me. The important thing is that you get the first shuttle back. Make it your highest priority. It’s got Piper on it.”
“Understood, sir.”
“We’ll keep you posted on the second ship. Magnus out.”
* * *
Magnus reached the edge of the hangar bay and stared at the force field for a moment. Working in hard vacuum wasn’t anything new to Magnus, but it did require extra concentration—one wrong move, and you were on a one-way sightseeing trip of deep space. Plus, he’d never worked in this kit before. Granted, if there was one good thing about Azelon’s manufacturing, it was that it was far superior to anything the Repub did. In the end, however, an operator got used to what an operator got used to, so new tech was awkward tech, even if it was better tech.
“Initiating mag system now,” Magnus said to Cyril, directing power to his boots and—just in case he needed it—his gloves. “Just like the holo games,” he mumbled to himself.
“Sounds good, sir. I’m right here, so if you need anything, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks.”
“You know, it’s kind of funny if you think about it—Magnus initiating his mag system?”
“Cyril! Stay focused.”
“Focused. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Weird kid, Magnus thought not for the first time. Smart. But weird.
Magnus walked into the force field’s plane then stepped to the edge. He extended his foot into hard vacuum and saw his suit’s systems adjust for the pressure discrepancy. The next bit was always the tricky part. Magnus committed, lunging forward as if the hangar bay’s floor extended out, ready to catch his leading foot. Instead, his body fell forward, pulling his rear foot off the deck. In the same instant, he flipped down and reoriented along the Labyrinth’s port side. His boots adhered to the metal, making the hull his new ground floor.
“I’m out,” Magnus said to Cyril.
“Good, good, good. Now—turn ninety degrees to your left and proceed forward one hundred forty-three meters
. The faster, the better. Yep, slow is smooth and faster is better.”
“Got it.” Magnus eyed the varied landscape and chuckled. “You do know what the hull of a Super Dreadnaught looks like, don’t you?”
“No, sir. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen one up close, sir.”
The one hundred forty-three meters that Magnus had to navigate was littered with obstructions—boxy maintenance compartments, sensor panels, shielded conduit runs, and any number of structural trusses. What looked like a flat surface from five klicks away was actually a highly intricate maze of mechanical engineering oddities.
Magnus clomped his way around an access hatch, then ducked under a support beam. He covered the next ten meters reasonably fast but had to use his gloves to hurdle two broad sections of truss. From there, Magnus moved around some communication dishes and then stepped through several maintenance panels aligned in a grid pattern. The progress was slow going, but he could see the waypoint indicator draw nearer with every step.
“So, talk me through the next part,” Magnus said. “How am I gonna fly this bird?”
“It’s a Heavy Armored Transport shuttle, hull designation HAT-NU-441.”
“I don’t care what it’s called, kid. I want to know how to fly it.”
“Oh, right, right. Well, fortunately, I’ll have access to its flight systems once you start it up.”
“Which means you can fly it for me?”
Cyril let out a nervous laugh. “No, sir. I’m not sure you’d want me doing that, sir.”
“And you think I can do any better?” Magnus carefully climbed over a series of thick conduit runs.
“Um, well, not exactly, sir. Even though nerds do rule the cosmos—ha ha.”
“Copy that. So, I start it up. Then who’s gonna fly it?”
“I will, sir,” said TO-96, his voice fresh in Magnus’s ears.
“That suits me just fine, bot.”
“I’m happy to hear that, sir. However, I must insist that you hurry. Fang Company is closing on your position.”
“And we are about to have several unwelcome guests,” Abimbola said over VNET. “The south tunnel is about to reopen.”
“Can’t you close that one, Cyril?” Magnus asked.
“I did, I already did. Something must’ve jammed the actuators.”
“Probably from the explosion,” Forbes said. “We’re just about good to go here, Magnus.”
“Get out of there, Forbes.”
“Magnus, I must ask you to reconsider the order,” TO-96 said. “Spreading out your evacuation will pose an unnecessary risk to the mission.”
“And keeping that shuttle full of our people on the deck poses an even greater risk. They’re the priority, ’Six. Nothing else matters.”
“I understand, sir. But just to be clear, I’m not sure the Fangs can cover two different waves of—”
“Dammit, ’Six! Cover the shuttle, and we’ll figure out a way to get the second one home. We don’t have time to wait around.” As if to punctuate his point, the three Fang squadrons appeared to Magnus’s left, doing a low pass over the Labyrinth’s top deck. They strafed the ship, firing silent blaster rounds through the void, while the Super Dreadnaught returned fire. But the Fangs were far too fast and vanished from sight before the starship’s auto turrets could put any round on target. The entire episode happened in the blink of an eye, and not a sound was made.
“You ready for us, Magnus?” Ricio asked over a channel dedicated to air support.
“Yes, sir.”
TO-96 piped up. “On the contrary—”
“Can it, bot,” Magnus ordered. “Ricio, I want you and ’Six conversing with Captain Forbes. He will be your primary POC moving forward.”
“Copy that,” Ricio replied. “You bowing out early?”
“Just delayed, that’s all. But you get the lead ship to safety, no matter what. That’s an order.”
“Coming from a Lieutenant, I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“Stand down, Ricio,” Caldwell interjected. “It’s the right call. Piper is the mission, and she’s on the lead shuttle. Patching Forbes through now.”
Instantly, the sounds of close blaster fire filled the comm. “Get this ramp up,” Forbes yelled.
“Captain, this is Caldwell. Are you ready to launch?”
“Yes, sir!” Forbes sounded like he was running. “Pilot, get us the hell out of here.”
“Sounds like they’re coming out hot, jockey,” Magnus said to Ricio. “Get yourself looking pretty.”
“On it,” Ricio said. “Squadrons, prepare to cover port-side evac, shuttle launch imminent.”
“Happy flying,” Magnus said. No sooner had he said the words than the Novian shuttle emerged from the hangar bay and moved into open space. Repulsors shut off, and ion thrusters went to full-burn. The bright light glared against Magnus’s visor as the ship silently sailed away from the Labyrinth.
Magnus was about to take another step when a massive explosion shook the hull about twenty yards to his right. An auto turret had been deployed—but not for long. One of Fang Company’s starfighters had apparently seen it and sent blaster rounds to take it out before the weapon had a chance to fire on the shuttle.
Magnus was about to spit out a warning to the pilots when he caught movement to the left. Twenty yards in the opposite direction, another auto turret popped from the hull. Magnus swung his NOV1 up and fired as soon as his finger could get on the trigger. He held the weapon wide open, pouring blaster rounds on the metal housing that protected the barrels. The enemy weapon system rotated, tracking the shuttle, but Magnus didn’t let up. His lead mag went dry, and the NOV1 switched effortlessly to the second. Just when Magnus thought the auto turret would fire, his blaster bolts pierced the armor plating, and the gun exploded in a spray of loose energy and orange sparks.
“Thanks for the help,” Nolan said to Magnus.
“My pleasure. And, hey, try not to shoot me? I’m walking here.”
“Roger that.”
Magnus mag locked his blaster on his back, then reoriented himself to the upcoming waypoint. He had less than thirty meters to go, and no time to waste. Magnus picked up his pace, racing around obstructions as a spacetrack star might do, but in slow motion. Then he looked over his shoulder. Forbes’s shuttle was heading away from the fleet, covered by all forty-two Fangs. “Safe travels, little one,” Magnus said, touching a finger to his helmet and then pointing in Piper’s direction.
* * *
“Alright, guys,” Magnus said to TO-96 and Cyril. “Talk me through this.” He’d stepped into the hangar bay and snuck onto the HAT without anyone noticing—a good start, he thought. But an unsanctioned shuttle launch during a firefight was sure to draw unwanted attention. He saw Marines run across the bay for the corridor leading aft, heading to reinforce the attack on Granther and Paladia Companies. “All I see are a bunch of consoles filled with buttons and a few dozen holo screens.”
“Good, good, good! Now, have you ever seen the holo vid The Unity Arises?”
“Cyril—”
“Because in it, there’s this great scene where a guy steals a shuttle, and it’s almost exactly like this scenario, but the thing is, that holo vid is not realistic, so do not do what the guy did. I repeat, do not—”
“Cyril, for splick’s sake!”
“Oh—ha, ha. Yeah. Sorry, sir. First, I need you to turn on the shuttle’s power supply and disconnect from the host circuits. There should be a large red toggle switch under a cover on the…” Cyril seemed to be consulting a schematic. Or he was dozing off, Magnus couldn’t decide which. “Right side. It’s on the cockpit’s right side.”
“I see it,” Magnus said, reaching over to flip the cover and throw the switch.
“Right next to it you see another toggle marked—”
“External Power Shutoff,” Magnus said.
“Exactly! That’s an affirmative ten ten. Now, kill it!”
Magnus threw that switch as w
ell. Next, Cyril walked Magnus through a dozen instructions to get the ship up and running. Finally, TO-96’s cheery voice said, “I have control.”
“As in, you’re good to fly this bird?” Magnus asked.
“Affirmative. I believe the expression is, hold my alcoholic beverage.”
“Now you’re just gettin’ cocky.” Magnus took a seat and grabbed the harness straps. But before he could buckle in, the ship lurched, and Magnus was thrown sideways. A second later and the ship struck something, tossing Magnus the other way. He stayed off the floor thanks to his iron grip around the straps. “Easy there, pal. What’s going on?”
“I am readjusting my parameters to compensate for the input declination values for this make and model. My apologies.”
“Yeah, ’cause that made so much sense. You good now?”
“I am good now, yes.”
Suddenly, the shuttle eased back under repulsor power and headed toward the environmental force field. TO-96’s jarring lift-off had gotten several Marines’ attention, however, and a small group stopped to observe the shuttle leaving the hangar. A few pointed then looked to a control window about halfway up the far wall.
A commanding voice broke over the ship’s audio system. “HAT-NU-441, you are not cleared for takeoff. Stand down immediately. I repeat, you are not cleared for—”
“Yeah, tower?” Magnus said, finding the comm holo and pressing the transmit button. “This is HAT-PISS-OFF. We’re not thrilled with service here, so we’ve decided to take our business elsewhere. Also, we will be leaving a bad review with your superiors, and last we knew, they take reviews pretty seriously.”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 162
