Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  “No remote det?” Rix asked.

  Zoll knew that Rix had some horrible memories of using delayed explosives when they worked for Abimbola. Hell, they both had bad memories of those crazy escapades in the Dregs. But this wasn’t Ooragee, and these weren’t expired Repub munitions. Plus, the Dregs wasn’t full of bio-splick that could wipe out planets, or whatever it was the dau Lothliniums had been screwing with.

  “No remote det,” Zoll confirmed. “Not with the unreliability of this facility’s defenses. If those barricades can cut comms, they’ll cut det signals if we get on the wrong side of something.”

  “Copy that,” Rix said with a sigh.

  * * *

  “So, so, yeah. I think we have exvac recon fill out for you, sir,” Cyril said.

  “What in the hell are you talking about, kid?” Zoll asked. He always remembered Cyril being a little too smart for his own good back in the Dregs, but ever since they’d joined the Gladio Umbra and spent more time with the former military guys, the code slicer was coming up with some funny-ass jargon.

  “A way back to the surface,” he said. “I think we figured it out.”

  Zoll left Rix and the dau Lothliniums and headed across the garden toward Cyril. The kid laid his data pad on a workstation and brought up a three-dimensional schematic of the sub levels.

  “We’re right here,” Cyril said, indicating a blue dot on the lowest level. “Here’s the elevator shaft.”

  “And you want to go back up it?” Zoll asked.

  “Oh, no, no. Sorry to infer that, sir. We couldn’t even if we wanted to.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Well, well, because there are several more of these barricades, and I’m not sure Wish could manage those and lifting us in a magic bubble, sir. Even with Longchomps’s help.”

  “It would be too much,” Wish said. “My apologies.”

  Zoll studied the schematic again. “Then, what’s your plan, kid? Because the only things I see connecting us to the upper levels are air vents and wire chases that are far too small for any of us to fit through.”

  “Totally, right, sir. Yeah, you’re absolutely right. But, see, that’s just the thing. We aren’t going to go up.”

  “We’re not,” Zoll stated.

  “Oh no. We’re going down and out, as they say.”

  “Down and out?”

  “Again with the repeating of words already spoken,” Longchomps said. “So irritating.”

  Cyril continued unabated. “Turns out that the architects were so busy keeping this complex’s lower levels disconnected from the surface that they forgot to create adequate drainage for human waste into the city.”

  “The city sewers?” Zoll asked.

  “Essentially, yes. Though it’s rather more complicated than that. This facility’s waste management is robust, as you might guess, especially given the sensitive nature of all the bio matter. But even a waste system needs a waste system.”

  “You’re talking civil engineering and integration.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s a lot like finding exploits in code slicing—the best gaps appear in between redundancies. People think that they’re making a system stronger by adding in failsafes, but the more complex and tightly knit you make any system—”

  “The more points of potential failure there are.”

  “Exactly, sir. That’s—yes. Right. So here”—Cyril pointed to a subterranean building adjacent to sub-level four, separated by a large conduit—“this is the lab’s own sewage management system. It’s really well designed and can filter out anything they don’t want. But they completely forgot that their system had to integrate with the city’s system.”

  “So the city had to build a separate pump system”—Zoll reached forward and pointed at a secondary pipe that ran out of view—“right here.”

  “Precisely, sir.”

  “And where does it lead?”

  Cyril raised his eyebrows. “Well, I don’t exactly know that, but it leads away from here.”

  “And that’s your plan?” Rix said, apparently done with the charges.

  “Uh, yeah. That’s our plan.”

  Rix rolled his shoulders like he was putting on a jacket. “We follow a sewage system, filled with stuff that can kill us, and then jump into a second public system that leads who knows where, and could potentially kill us.”

  Cyril laughed so fast Zoll thought the kid might hyperventilate. “More or less—ha-ha. But hopefully not as much killing as you just mentioned, Rix—ha-ha.”

  “It’s the only way,” Balin interjected.

  Zoll turned to look at the man. “How so?”

  “As far as we know, there is only one way back up.” He pointed at the elevator shaft. “And that’s it.”

  “He’s right,” Cyril said.

  “In all the time we’ve been here, we haven’t heard of any other way out of this sub-level. So if your code slicer here has found something, then I’d take him up on it.”

  “Then into the sewers we go,” Zoll said. “Wish, can you get word to Charlie and Delta Teams? They need to know we’re on the move.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ll let Telwin and Finderminth know.”

  “Good. Cyril, how long to get to that secondary system and into the sewer?”

  “Uh—ha-ha. I’d say ten minutes?”

  “Make it five.” Then something on the map caught Zoll’s eye. “What’s that?”

  “The ring, it’s, uh, closing in on us,” Cyril responded, nodding at the red circle. “That’s the AI. I guess it finally solved my riddle, so it’s locking down this floor.”

  “Then that’s our cue to move.”

  11

  Awen did her best to keep up with Rohoar and Czyz, but they were simply too fast. So she settled for keeping a shield around herself and one on each of them. Not that they needed protection yet—Magnus’s new mechanized armor had done enough damage to keep the base reeling for several minutes. Like on Worru and the Labyrinth, the Gladio Umbra had killed dozens of Marines in a matter of minutes. Even though Awen knew her team had a mission to do—knew it was these lives or billions of civilians—she still found it difficult to stomach the sheer loss of life.

  Magnus had tried to reassure her that the ends justified the means. Intellectually, she understood that. At least she thought she did. But coming face to face with means this gruesome, this horrifying, made it harder for her head to remain convinced—even harder for her heart. Somehow, troopers were able to compartmentalize the tragedies of war. Awen swore she’d never be able to understand that. But she guessed that, for many of them, compartmentalizing was not about virtue or moral rightness. It was about survival.

  Body parts dotted the tarmac inside the base. Wherever she turned, she saw bodies, pools of blood, and victims crawling toward cover. One man had lost his helmet—and his legs. He pulled his way forward on his elbows, crying out for a medic, while two long red trails followed him.

  Awen looked away and tried to keep from retching. To the other side, a large chunk of blastcrete sat smoking in a heap—until she realized it wasn’t blastcrete at all. It was a limbless, headless torso. This time, Awen did retch, vomiting inside her helmet as she ran to catch up with the Jujari. But the emotion welling in her chest was stronger than she knew what to do with. Anxiety turned to panic. She spun around twice—she was having trouble remembering which way she was supposed to go.

  “Are you still with us, scrumnip braulick?” Rohoar asked over VNET.

  Awen hesitated, not sure who Rohoar was referencing. Then, as if on autopilot, her brain worked out the translation—beautiful little peacemaker.

  All at once, Awen realized that Rohoar was talking about her. She had never heard a Jujari reference her with a nickname before. But it warmed Awen’s heart, taking her back to when she first fell in love with the species.

  At once, the feeling of panic ebbed, and then the anxiety. Rohaor’s words seemed to call her back from the land of the dead. Awen’
s eyes focused again, and she noticed Rohoar standing two meters in front of her.

  “Rohoar,” Awen said, barely recognizing the sound of her voice. Where had he come from? “You’re supposed to be in the substation.”

  “No, Rohoar is supposed to be protecting his teammates and accomplishing an objective.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Come. Rohoar will carry you.”

  Before Awen could protest, Rohoar scooped her body up with one arm and deposited her on his back, much like a father might do with his little child. She clung to his armor as his body resumed its lunging beat toward the substation. Within moments, blaster fire filled the quad as the rest of the gladias engaged the Marines attempting to defend their base against the invisible intruders.

  Rohoar slowed and let Awen slide off his back as they arrived at the substation. It was a rather large structure, about the size of a three-story dormitory on Worru. But in comparison to the megastructures that her HUD said were the central core generator and its accompanying tower, one that seemed to stretch to the stars, the substation was little more than a shed.

  “Stay behind us,” Rohoar said. “And we will keep your path clear to the console.”

  “Thank you,” Awen replied. “Let’s go.”

  Rohoar nodded at Czyz, who slashed at the door with his claws. Sparks filled Awen’s vision, and she looked away. Then the Jujari lodged his fingers inside the furrows he’d made and began separating the leaves. The sound of straining metal rattled Awen’s head as Czyz forced the barricade open. Once it was large enough to pass through, Czyz stepped aside to allow Rohoar in.

  Rohoar darted inside, followed by Czyz, with Awen in the rear. Clear of the carnage and the blaster fire, Awen felt her focus return, and she remembered that she had an important job to do: activate the manual override for the planetary shield generator. She reviewed the steps in her mind, recalling what Azelon had told her while on the beachhead. The bot had even sent a list of notes in a separate chat window. Focusing on the task made it easier for Awen to stay calm, especially when the killing began again.

  The first person to pose a threat to the Jujari was a security guard who’d pointed his weapon at the odd shapes moving down the hall. He wore a black military uniform and matching beret.

  “Stop where you are,” the guard said. But Awen could tell by the quiver in his voice that the man was unsure of his command.

  Rohoar bounded forward, grabbed the guard’s blaster and forearm in one paw, and then yanked him forward. The guard’s feet left the floor, and his head whiplashed, cracking against Rohoar’s belly-plate. The guard bounced backward and then hit the ground without so much as a groan. Judging by the glazed look in his eyes and the blood streaming from his broken face, Awen guessed the guard was dead.

  “Come,” Rohoar said. “We must keep moving. This way.” The Jujari followed the course outline in Awen’s HUD, taking several turns and crossing more than one truss that was suspended over a deep cavern of energy wells, conduits, and monitoring stations. What the substation lacked in height, it made up for in depth.

  Suddenly, two Marines in full armor stepped out of a side passage and raised their weapons. Unlike the first guard, the Marines didn’t issue any orders—they just opened fire. Czyz took the first two hits while Rohoar took the third. But Awen’s Unity shield absorbed them all, sparing either Jujari’s personal shield or armor. In reply, Czyz stepped forward and slammed both Marine’s helmets together. A deafening crack rang down the hallway as the bodies collapsed to the floor.

  “Keep moving,” Rohoar said. But another two guards appeared further down the hallway and started firing. Again, the Unity shield absorbed the blows. But it was Rohoar who took off running, running past the protective cover.

  “Rohoar, wait,” Awen yelled. But the warrior was not interested in heeding her words. So Awen was forced to move the shield forward as fast as she could. Only one enemy round struck Rohaor’s shield before Awen’s power caught up with him. But by then, the Jujari was upon the two Marines, slashing at their armor and divesting the men of their lives. He chomped down on one helmet, ripping it off the man’s shoulders, along with his head. The second Marine lost his right arm as Rohoar’s claws shredded it from its shoulder socket. The man still managed to fire several shots from the blaster in his remaining hand, but that arm was severed next and flopped on the hallway floor.

  Rohoar spat the Marine’s helmet out and then yelled to Awen to keep moving. “Just a little further.”

  Then the gladias came around a bend and entered a control room about 100 square meters. A wide console covered the far wall, and Awen instantly recognized it as the one in the image Azelon had provided. Two technicians looked up from their work and stared back at the entrance, but Awen could tell by the quizzical looks on their faces that they had no idea what they were seeing. That, and they were most likely terrified by the blaster fire both outside and inside the substation.

  “Put your hands up, and no one gets hurt,” Awen said. Both men raised their hands and looked at each other. But then one of them reached for his sidearm and fired. The bolt collided with Awen’s Unity shield, and then Rohoar reached out and palmed the man’s entire head. He twisted his wrist in a sharp motion, and the technician dropped to the ground.

  The other man backed up, hands raised in surrender. The sight of his coworker’s head randomly twisting surely put the fear of the mystics in him. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “Let him live,” Awen said to the Jujari.

  “As you wish,” Czyz said, knocking the man out with a strike to the side of his head.

  “The console,” Rohoar said as if presenting it to Awen for her inspection.

  “I’m on it.” Awen moved the main holo display and started swiping through it. As per Azelon’s instructions, she found the manual override function in a subset of other miscellaneous menus. Apparently, this was not an option that Capriana wanted to be accessed easily, and for good reason.

  Magnus’s voice came to her over comms as she moved through the required file path. She could tell he was under stress, and the sounds of weapons fire meant the rest of the gladias were in the thick of it.

  “We’re at the console,” Awen said. “I’m navigating the—”

  Rohoar growled and then snapped at something. Awen turned and saw three Marines who’d accidentally walked into the Jujari’s backsides. The men fired several rounds into the room, a few of which struck equipment against the adjacent walls. Czyz lunged at one of the troopers and drove his claws into the man’s chest. Chest armor split open like a cracked egg, and then the Jujari flung the man aside, letting his torso slip off his nails.

  Rohoar chomped down three times, splitting armor and blowing up a blaster’s energy mag. He yelped as an explosion filled the control room with a quick blast of white light. Then the two Marine bodies hit the deck, and Rohoar and Czyz turned back to face Awen.

  “Awen?” Magnus asked. “Talk to me!”

  Awen saw blood running out of Rohoar’s mouth, but he raised his chops at her in the Jujari version of a smile.

  “I’m okay,” Awen said, and then returned to the holo screen to initiate the final step. “I’m activating the…” A new screen appeared. Her eyes took in the readout, and she caught her breath. “Oh no.”

  “What’s oh no?” Magnus asked.

  Awen stared at the screen a moment longer to be sure it was saying what she thought it was saying. A large timer was counting down from thirty seconds with the title Substation Auto Destruct.

  Magnus called her name again and asked her to clarify the situation, but her mind was in overdrive.

  “Everyone out,” Awen yelled, turning to Rohoar and Czyz. “It’s a trap!”

  * * *

  Awen was on Rohoar’s back, riding down the hallway. Czyz was in the lead, slashing at troopers unfortunate enough to try and stop the trio. The least Awen could do was to put up a shield as a rearguard, absorbing enemy fire. But the Marine attem
pts to thwart the gladias seemed halfhearted, and presumably for good reason. The klaxon and swirling red emergency lights meant that anyone who valued their life should get out of the building.

  “Self-destruct sequence initiated,” the automated voice announced in a smooth female tone. “Fifteen seconds remaining.”

  “Faster, Rohoar,” Awen said, urging the Jujari forward.

  Rohoar claw’s dug into the floor as he slowed at the first intersection, then he pushed off the wall as he made a 90º turn. He continued to bound down the hallway, tearing up the ground and leaping walls. At the end of the last hallway, Awen felt Rohoar accelerate as he and Czyz headed toward the exit. A dozen troopers turned toward the commotion, but they were still unable to see anything beyond blurry edges and semi-translucent shielding. A few fired on what they must’ve considered strange anomalies, but the rest of the Marines pushed through the blast doors and into the night.

  Czyz barreled through the remaining troopers, opening a space for Rohoar and Awen. As they leaped out of the building, Awen yelled, “Everyone, get clear!”

  She noticed as several gladias looked in her direction then back away. She was about to repeat herself when the structure detonated, giving off four separate explosions that rippled down the building. The sound cracked like lightning, rattling her body and making her ears ring. Awen was ripped off Rohoar’s back and felt herself fly through the air, unable to tell which way was up. As a last-ditch effort to protect herself, she enclosed herself in a small forcefield. Then her body slammed against something hard. Even with the extra protection from the Unity, the shock made her vision grow dark and her head hurt.

  “I have you, daughter of dau Lothlinium House,” a deep voice said. She thought the sound belonged to Abimbola, but she couldn’t be sure. A cold metal hand slid underneath her back and hoisted her off the ground. “It is time for us to leave.”