For her part, Sootriman had chosen to fly her favorite ship—the Radiant Queen. She only took it out on special occasions, and this was, no doubt, the most special event yet. She figured that if this was going to be her last battle, then she wanted to go out in style.
To those looking on the outside, the Queen seemed an appropriate match for Sootriman’s sense of style. It’s gleaming black hull and red accents turned the Wilda-class starfighter into the most glamorous version of the Repub’s oldest attack platform. Three times the size of a Talon, the Wilda-class vessels sported larger missile bays and ammo magazines for blaster cannons. Sootriman kept these features, naturally, but also saw fit to increase the gunships arsenal, shielding, and—most importantly—its engines. She called her revitalized hybrid the RBF-class for Resting Bitch Face—which was precisely how Ezo said she looked when squeezing off rounds into enemy targets.
In all, the twelve magistrates of Ki Nar Four, including Sootriman as their Queen, had managed to pull together 115 ships for the “heroic battle to end all battles,” as TO-96 had recently put it. Even with his propensity for melodrama, Sootriman admitted that the bot wasn’t that far from the truth—especially considering how things looked in the distance.
Sootriman marveled at the conflict unfolding over Oorajee. Not only did it seem like every Talon in Third Fleet had been scrambled, but Jujari ships were ramming Paragon Carriers in what was the most cataclysmic display of hardened combat Sootriman had ever seen. Even the Spire was taking long-range shots at the Paragon ships. And all this over a little girl. Damn straight it is, Sootriman thought. Girls rule the cosmos, and boys just want to blow it up.
“Thirty seconds,” she said. “Attack formation. Choose your targets, and give ’em hell.” Sootriman’s magistrates complied, as did the host of other ships.
“With pleasure,” Chloe said as the sound of her cracking knuckles transmitted over comms. “I seem to recall having a few scores to settle.”
“When don’t you?” Barlow asked.
“Hey, you wanna take this outside?”
“Save it for later,” Sootriman said. “Take all that rage and send it ahead.”
“Piss ant,” Chloe said to Barlow.
“Dorf picker,” he replied.
Then Dieddelwolf chuckled. “Mystics, the sexual tension between you two is—”
“Shut up, Wolf,” the pair said in unison.
“Remember,” Sootriman said. “Nobody touches those two shuttles, but favor the lead one if you can only pick one.”
“We got you, Red Queen,” Barlow said.
“Now, let’s show them just how hard—”
“Wolf,” Chloe cried. “Gross! Stop talking and shoot something!”
Dieddelwolf hunched over his controls. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Hold on, baby,” Sootriman said to herself. “We’re coming.”
* * *
Ezo watched with pride as his wife lead over a hundred ships into battle. For everything the Paragon ships were to order and continuity, Sootriman’s ships were to chaos and bad taste. Except her’s, he noted. The Radiant Queen was easy to spot, and Ezo made sure to track behind her in case she got into trouble. But with the way she was taking on the enemy, he doubted she’d need any help.
Sootriman banked left and right, firing relentlessly at every Talon she could. She rolled high over exploding debris fields and dove away from incoming missiles as if she owned the skies. In fact, that’s exactly what Ezo realized was happening. For all the Paragon’s numbers, and for all the Novian tech, no one could fly quite like his wife. Okay, so maybe Ricio was a better pilot technically, but Sootriman’s flying style was second to none. Even the ace Repub pilot took note.
“Damn, that’s your wife?” Ricio asked, now for the second time.
“Sure is,” Ezo replied, trying his best to stay on her tail.
A Talon darted in from the left, guns blazing. Blaster bolts tracked Sootriman’s Queen and nearly caught her when Ezo sent his last missile at the enemy ship. The projectile streaked away, bent sharply, and then slammed into the Talon. The resulting explosion washed over Sootriman’s ship, then Ezo flew through it too.
“Thanks, babe,” Sootriman said. “I see you creepin’ back there.”
“Just something about this view,” he replied with a smirk.
“Oh, I’ll give you a view.” The Radiant Queen’s engines flared, and Sootriman accelerated away from Ezo.
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
Sootriman laughed. “If you don’t work for it, where’s the fun?”
Ezo pushed his Fang forward and watched as Sootriman tore into three more Talons, and then rolled away to pursue a fourth. If given enough time, Ezo felt his wife could take down the entire fleet herself if she had too. That was rose-colored thinking, of course, but he liked the fantasies. Plus, Sootriman wasn’t alone—not by a long shot.
To starboard, Ezo recognized Chloe’s black and blue Sypeurlion Jackal-class fighter. It’s distinct vertical stabilizers aft, and smaller horizontal stabilizers on the nose made it excellent for in-atmo dogfighting, while its powerful quad cannon made it a menace in hard vacuum combat. And Chloe knew how to handle it. She unloaded on a Talon that had broken for Magnus’s shuttle. Her cannon shot four simultaneous rounds that blew through the Talon’s shields and then decimated the fuselage. All that was left were the wingtip mounted blasters, which spun into oblivion.
Chloe rolled up and over the explosion, only to circle back and fire on two more attack fighters. The enemy ships were hunting down a Fang whose ammunition had been expended. Chloe’s quad cannon opened up and delivered three bursts of inescapable blaster fire. The enemy ships detonated like fireworks in a celebration day parade, followed by a streak of ion thrust as Chloe shot through.
Ezo looked back at the two shuttles as they grew smaller and smaller against the star-filled galaxy. Fewer and fewer Talons attempted pursuit, and the Carriers had stopped aiming at the tiny ships. To Ezo’s amazement, the enemy was being pushed back—the rebels were winning. The Radiant Queen crossed in front of him again, taking out another Talon. It was like watching a Venetian mawslip hunt quarry—there was no escaping her. Sootriman, his beloved wife, and her gang of outlaws and misfits had saved the day.
“Mystics, you’re beautiful,” Ezo whispered.
“I heard that,” Sootriman said.
“So did I,” TO-96 added. “Thank you.”
* * *
Magnus surprised himself by letting out a deep sigh of relief as the giant warships disappeared around Oorajee’s edge. He’d felt helpless, trapped on the shuttle, and hated every second of it.
First, his crew rode out the barrage of anti-ship fire launched from every Carrier and Battleship in Third Fleet that could get crosshairs on target. Then, when Victorio had helped mitigate that assault, the Talons closed in. Magnus was sure they were finished—there was just no way they could outshoot or outfly the famed Repub fighter platform. But survive they did—no small thanks to Fang Company’s efforts, and to Sootriman who, quite literally, saved their asses with her makeshift fleet of rejects and delinquents. At least that’s how TO-96 had described them to Magnus.
Up ahead, Piper’s shuttle vanished as it docked inside the Spire, hidden within the massive ship’s protective cloak. Again, Magnus felt a wave of relief wash over him. They’d made it. Though, it had been a costly fight.
His mind wandered to Saladin and Nubs, remembering them in their final moments of heroism. Taursar and Hedgebore Companies had also suffered significant losses while holding the hangar bay. The mystics, too, had seen their share of casualties. And then there had been the Fang pilots, several of whom gave their lives in trying to ensure Magnus’s escape—he’d watched one jump into another using his subspace drive. Whoever it was, Magnus would take time to honor when this was over. Maybe he’d even name a ship after the pilot.
More than anything, however, Magnus thought of Piper. The child
had been the focus of his every waking moment since… well, since she’d stumbled into Nos Kil’s cell block. Magnus could not stop scolding himself for allowing that to happen. Perhaps now that she was safe, he could let the guilt go—if she was indeed safe. Like all Marines who’d seen combat, Magnus knew that the enemy could cause harm long after the battle was over. So the fact that Piper had been in contact with both So-Elku and Moldark made his stomach tighten into a knot. When she woke up, what would she say? What horrible things might she tell him? And would she carry those happenings into adulthood? Mystics, he hoped not.
But nothing seemed to gnaw at his thoughts more than the two questions he wanted answered more than any others: How had he harmed her? And could she forgive him?
Magnus’s finger wrapped the top of the pilot’s chair as the shuttle approached the Spire. It was Dutch who eventually placed a hand over his nervous fingers in an apparent effort to keep him from annoying the pilot. “Let the man do his job,” she said, nodding at the pilot.
“Right.” Magnus stepped back and then looked at Dutch. “I’m just… ya know.”
“You’re eager to see how Piper’s doing.”
Magnus nodded. “I suppose it’s just—well, she’s been through a lot, and if they’ve done something to her—”
“Magnus,” Dutch said, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ve got her. And whatever she’s suffered, we’ll work her through it, and she’ll be okay.”
“You can’t know that.”
“But I can.”
Magnus half-closed one eye in suspicion. “I don’t think you can be so sure of that.”
“Sure, I can.” Dutch removed her hand and placed it on her hip. “You wanna know how I know?
“I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me whether I want you to or not.”
“Damn straight. I know because we’ve all had to work through our own splick—every last one of us.” She gestured back toward the cargo hold and pointed at his chest. “You especially. We’ve all been through our own versions of hell, and we’ve all found a way forward.”
“Yeah, but she’s just a kid,” Magnus said.
“And you didn’t go through hell as a kid?”
Magnus wasn’t buying Dutch’s argument. “Not like she’s been through.”
“And that’s my whole point.”
A moment of silence passed between them as Magnus tried to wade through her reasoning. “I don’t follow.”
“You haven’t lived her hell, and she hasn’t lived yours. No two people’s are ever the same, so you can’t compare. It’s unfair to you and, more importantly, it’s unfair to her. The most we can ask of one another is to be present while we walk back toward the light.”
Magnus gave her a half smile and shook his head a little. “Damn, Dutch. That was some poetic splick.”
“Just be there for her, LT. She’ll find her way out, and she’ll need friends—just like you did.”
39
Magnus was walking down the shuttle’s ramp door before it even opened a meter. Awen’s head appeared above the lip, helmet off. “She’s awake, Magnus,” Awen said.
“How is she?”
“She’s asking for you.”
Magnus froze. He wanted to say something—to make sure he hadn’t misheard Awen. Then she pointed across the hangar bay to a gurney floating amidst a team of medics.
“They’re taking her to sickbay, but I told them to wait for you.”
Magnus raised his arm over Awen’s head as he bolted toward the cluster of medics. He felt Awen follow behind him. He could also sense the rest of the Gladio Umbra looking on as they emptied from both shuttles. This little girl, this tiny form on a gurney in the hangar bay of an alien starship, was the whole reason they’d risked their lives today. And now, here she was. And with every step Magnus took, he felt his pre-planned words slip from his mind until he approached the floating stretcher with only one word on his lips.
“Piper,” he whispered, placing his hand against the child’s face. She seemed so small, lying there. Her large blue eyes were bloodshot and sleepy, but she was awake and looking into his face.
“Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir,” she said with a smile. “You came for me.”
Magnus swallowed the lump in his throat but couldn’t stop the tears from filling his eyes. “Yeah, I did.”
“Just like my dreams.”
“Something like that.” He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “You okay? You need anything?” His eyes searched her small body for injuries, but she looked alright.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir.”
Magnus balked. “Sorry? Kid, there’s nothing to be—”
“I was wrong. About you.”
“Hey, listen. You just need some—”
Her tiny hand reached up and touched his cheek. “I thought you were bad. That you did bad things, because of what Nos Kil told me about you. And then”—she gulped in a breath as more tears filled her eyes—“I thought you killed my mommy.”
“Mystics, kid. I—”
“But you didn’t,” Piper said, sobbing. “You didn’t. I saw everything. I saw what happened, and you didn’t.” Piper grabbed ahold of his armor and pulled him down. Then she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him like she’d never let go.
Magnus wept so deeply that he hardly recognized this version of himself. But he didn’t care. To hell with everything else. He put his arms around Piper and stood up, holding her tight. He faintly heard the medics trying to stop him, and Awen and Willowood telling the medics to stand down.
“I know you tried to save her. I know it wasn’t your fault.” Her tears streamed down the side of his neck. “And I was so mad at you. That’s why I ran away, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
Magnus was so overwhelmed he couldn’t put two words together. Instead, he just cried with her, holding her close. But the child wasn’t done.
“I shouldn’t have hurt you,” Piper said. “Or Awen, or my grandmother, or anyone else. And please don’t be mad at me. Please. I’m so sorry.”
“Piper,” Magnus said, not sure he recognized the sound of his own voice until he cleared his throat and said her name a second time. Then he gently pulled her away from his neck until he could see her eye to eye. “I forgive you. You hear me?” He brushed her messy blonde hair out of her face. “I forgive you, and everything’s okay. Everything’s okay, and I’m not mad at you. Not one bit.”
“You’re not?”
“Nuh-uh. I’m just—” Magnus choked. “I’m just happy you’re safe.”
“Me too.” Piper threw herself back into his neck and wept bitterly—her tiny chest heaving as her breathing tried to keep up with her grief. Magnus found himself petting the girl’s hair, trying to soothe her like he’d seen mother’s do. He let her cry for a minute then helped her off his shoulder to look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry too, you know.”
Piper smeared her tears away on both sides of her face. “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, I did. It was my job to protect you.” He swallowed. “And I failed. I failed big. You should never have been able to find Nos Kil as you did, and I was wrong to bring him on our ship. And when I suspected that he told you things about my past, I should have been brave enough to confront those things with you. Instead, I… I held back. And that wasn’t brave of me.” A new wave of heat pushed more tears down his cheeks. “I wasn’t strong for you the way I needed to be. So I want you to know—I need you to know—that I’m sorry, and it will never happen again. And I ask you to forgive me.”
“Oh, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir”—Piper held his bearded cheeks in both her hands—“I forgive you with all my heart.” Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheekbone. She whimpered again, squeezing his neck, and he squeezed back.
They held each other there for a minute or two. Finally, as his emotions subsided, Magnus heard other people sniffing around him. He looked up to see the entire
host of Gladio Umbra surrounding him and Piper. What Magnus had imagined as a profoundly personal and private moment had been shared with the whole host of gladias. But rather than see the audience as intruders of his otherwise private world, he welcomed them, knowing they were just as much a part of this reconciliation as he was. Without them, he and Piper wouldn’t be talking.
Magnus raised his head and turned slightly, trying to determine where the bulk of everyone stood, but they were truly surrounding him on every side. He swallowed and raised his voice. “I want to say—” He cleared his throat, then wiped his eyes with the back of one wrist. “I want to say thank you to each of you—”
“Me too,” Piper said in a quiet voice, still bound to his neck.
“We both want to thank you, each of you, for bringing Piper home. And to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice—” Again, Magnus found it hard to speak. He wasn’t used to so many damned emotions messing with his head and heart. He looked around at everyone’s faces, searching them for some sense of what he should say next. In their eyes, yes, Magnus saw pain and even the shadows of fear that plagued anyone who saw war. But he also saw hope. And defiance.
Magnus continued to scan their faces, knowing that he had to finish his sentence for them. His eyes suddenly met Colonel Caldwell’s. He also saw Azelon and TO-96. Cyril smiled and then brushed hair out of his face. Even the rest of Drambull and Raptor Companies had filed into the hangar, apparently while he’d been speaking with Piper. The only people missing were the pilots of Fang Company, who he assumed were still covering the retreat.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Magnus turned to see Awen, her face wet and eyes bloodshot. She nodded slowly at Magnus with a look that implored him to continue. “They need you,” she said. “You’ve got this.”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 165
