Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  Awen paused, aware that she was about to say something she’d never said before. “Then… thank you for your vow of vengeance.” The lizard hissed and lowered his head beneath the plane of Sootriman’s bed once again.

  Awen rose to her feet and left Saasarr to his watch. She gave Ezo a disappointed smirk and shrugged. “What now?”

  “Not sure,” Ezo replied, keeping his voice low. He glanced over Awen’s shoulder. “That guy’s a badass, but not even he can take on those troopers by himself.”

  “My thoughts exactly. We need an alternate plan.”

  “We can camp out here for the remaining two days that Azelon said it will take for Sootriman to recover. Maybe she knows something we don’t. She’s got to have other connections.”

  “Two days…” Awen rolled the number around in her mind. “Isn’t that, like, forty days in the metaverse?”

  Ezo shrugged. “Sounds about right.”

  “Imagine… imagine what they could do…”

  “None of that is certain, Star Queen. Don’t go psyching yourself out before we’ve even begun.”

  “So you don’t think they’re uncovering some new technology—something they can use to their advantage—even as we speak?”

  “Ezo doesn’t know what he thinks right now. But Ezo does know hypotheticals can kill you faster than reality sometimes. So just take a deep breath, and we’ll figure this out.” Ezo looked across at Sootriman. “Right now, she needs to get better before we do anything. That’s a hard stop we can’t get around. We also know we have a friend in the lizard there. That’s more than we had before.”

  “But still not enough.”

  “How is it that Ezo is suddenly the optimist here?” Ezo’s raised voice drew Saasarr’s ire. “Sorry.” He gave a thumbs-up to the Reptalon. “Keep guarding. You’re doing great.” Back to Awen, he whispered, “Listen, we’ve got this. The universe has a way of working things out. Just have a little… you know…”

  “A little faith?”

  “Your words, not mine, Star Queen.”

  * * *

  Awen figured the only thing that would distract her enough from her incessant worrying was being on the bridge with TO-96 and Azelon. She found the two bots staring through the main window, looking out over Ki Nar Four’s volcanic surface some twenty thousand kilometers below. In a strange way, the view was beautiful, she had to admit. And having two metal-and-composite humanoid bodies side by side, looking out at it, seemed fitting.

  Awen stepped onto the bridge and cleared her throat. She assumed the two bots already knew she was there. Still, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  TO-96 and Azelon turned at the same time.

  “Hello, Awen. And how is Sootriman?” TO-96 asked cordially. Again, Awen felt this was a formality, as he surely knew how the woman was doing in far more detail than Awen could.

  “Fine. Resting.”

  TO-96 nodded. “And the Reptalon?”

  “He won’t leave her side. He seems deeply concerned for her well-being.”

  “He should be.”

  Awen cocked her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  TO-96 hesitated. He looked at Azelon then back to Awen. “Ah, I now understand that you are not in the loop, as it were.”

  “No, I guess I’m not. And for the record, you’re getting better at using figures of speech, no matter what Ezo says.”

  TO-96 placed a hand on his chest in such a human gesture that Awen almost forgot he was a bot. “Why, thank you, Awen.”

  “Now, what loop am I out of?”

  TO-96 raised a finger as if to make a point but then seemed to think better of it. “I believe this is information for Sootriman to share.”

  “Whoa, Ninety-Six. You can’t go leading a girl on like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You can’t just say, ‘I know a huge secret,’ and then turn around and say, ‘Never mind, I can’t tell you.’”

  “But I thought better of my intended course as I considered other factors that played into the dynamics of human interaction.” The bot tilted his head. “I am confused. In considering what is best for one human, I inadvertently did not do what is best for another human. Your species is extremely complicated.”

  “Welcome to being human, Ninety-Six.”

  “Yes. How arduous…”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Awen,” Azelon said, “I am detecting a starship that has just jumped out of subspace.” The bot turned to the main window, where several new transparent layers of information superimposed themselves on one another.

  “Here? Now?”

  “Yes to both questions.” Azelon moved her head around the window as if scanning and analyzing. Then a new image appeared, a massive starship filling up the screen. “The vessel is currently three hundred thousand kilometers away. Do you recognize it?”

  It took Awen a second to respond. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Yes… yes I do. It’s a Jujari destroyer.”

  “I can confirm Awen’s assessment,” TO-96 added.

  “Is it hailing the planet?” Awen asked.

  “Negative,” Azelon replied. “It is only emitting its ship name on a repeated algorithm.”

  “Its ship name?” Awen asked. “What… what’s its ship name, then?”

  Azelon hesitated. “I am sorry. I think there is a problem with my translation protocol. I will need a moment. Forgive me, Awen.” Azelon twitched. “No. I was wrong. Everything is working properly, and I cannot detect any issues with my translation protocol.”

  “What’s the ship’s name, Azelon?”

  “Naked Monkey Butt.”

  12

  “Magnus, is that you?” Awen said over the holo-transmission.

  Seeing Awen’s face again was… disarming. He was back on the streets of Oosafar, helping her flee from the mwadim’s palace. Then he was in Abimbola’s jail, watching her bargain for his life. Then he was on the skiff to meet that smuggler—Enzo or something—and his overly familiar bot. There had been that long talk on board the ship… and then she was gone.

  He and Awen had spent hardly any time together. But the time they had spent had been memorable. Intense, and memorable. But not more so than any other op in which he’d rescued someone. He’d rescued Valerie, after all, and she was…

  What?

  Splick. This was getting complicated. Still, Awen was different. The way she’d talked during their one-on-one conversation aboard Enzo’s ship… before the nav bot had asked Magnus to touch his missiles. Crazy robot.

  Awen was different because… because she’s the total opposite of everything you stand for, Adonis. He seemed to have an inclination toward opposites.

  “Put us through,” Magnus said.

  “As you wish, scrumruk,” Rohoar replied.

  Awen’s face lit up with a smile when the transmission connected. “Magnus. It is you.”

  “Hey, Awen. Good to see you again.”

  “You too.” She laughed. “Nice ship designation.”

  “I figured that would get your attention if you were out here.”

  “Like nothing else could.”

  There was an awkward pause as both of them smiled. Magnus felt the eyes of everyone on the bridge fixed on him. Including Valerie. But what did he care?

  “How did you know where to find us?” Awen asked.

  “Well, that’s a fascinating question. We’re coming from Worru.”

  Awen’s eyes lit up, just as Magnus thought they might. “Why in all the cosmos were you on Worru?”

  “I should probably explain that in person.”

  “Right. Okay, we’re sending our coordinates now. TO-96 confirms that there’s an open docking bay adjacent to ours.”

  “Roger that. See you soon.”

  She hesitated. “Yeah. See you soon. Azelon Spire out.”

  “NMB out.”

  * * *

  Upon their arrival at the docking platform, Awen had insiste
d that Magnus and his crew come aboard her ship—something about it being more spacious than his. And by the looks of it from their docking approach, she wasn’t kidding. Magnus had never seen anything like it. Its iridescent hull was shaped like some sort of megalithic sea creature. Everyone on the bridge looked at it slack-jawed.

  “What system is that from?” Titus asked.

  “None I’ve ever seen.” Abimbola ran a hand over his jaw. “Where’d that Luma go get a ship like that, buckethead?”

  “I have no idea.” Magnus turned to Rohoar. “Can you pull up anything else on that ship? Maybe some sort of Repub top-secret firewall?”

  Rohoar stared ahead as if he hadn’t heard Magnus at all. The Jujari was clearly impressed.

  “Hey, Rohoar.” Magnus snapped his fingers.

  “I’m sorry, scrumruk. What did you request?”

  “Any additional metadata on that ship.”

  “No,” Rohoar replied without looking at his data pad. “There’s nothing more on it.”

  “Strange.” Magnus studied Rohoar a second more. The hyena was really taken with the ship. Magnus turned to Titus. “How many life signs are we detecting? I want to make sure we’re not walking into a trap.”

  “Our scans are unable to penetrate the hull, Magnus,” Titus replied from the sensors console.

  “Definitely smells top secret to me,” Abimbola said. “But she’s too damn pretty to be a Repub bucket of bolts.”

  “Hey.” Magnus shot a look his way. “We’re not the ones building rickety old contraptions in the desert.”

  Abimbola shrugged. “Have to work with what you’ve got.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” Magnus gestured toward the rest of Abimbola’s crew. “I want everyone armed and stacked behind me in stages, in case there are any problems. Rohoar, you stay with the ship and keep her ready to book if we pop smoke.”

  “Pop smoke, scrumruk?”

  “Emergency retreat,” Abimbola said.

  Rohoar raised his head. “I think Magnus will be needing me.”

  “Oh? And why’s that?” Magnus asked.

  “Anyone else can run this ship. Titus, for example.” Rohoar pointed to the Marauder. “It’s so simple even he can do it.”

  “Hey,” the man protested.

  “But only I can protect Abimbola’s buckethead scrumruk.”

  Magnus made to protest, but the Jujari really seemed to want to come along. Plus, he had a point—that was, assuming Titus could actually fly this ship. But it was true that no one was fiercer in battle than a Jujari.

  “Okay, you can come. But make sure Titus knows what he’s doing. The rest of you, I want you locked and loaded in three. Valerie, I want you and Piper in your quarters.”

  Fortunately, Valerie nodded and led Piper toward the bridge’s elevator.

  “Let’s move, people.”

  * * *

  When the blades of NMB’s port hatch spiraled open, Awen stood there, eyes wide. Magnus kind of figured that four Marine and navy troopers, three Marauders, and a former Jujari mwadim pointing weapons at her would be overwhelming—which was the point. Based on her genuine surprise, however, Magnus decided there wasn’t anything to worry about.

  Awen said, “There’s no threat here. Promise.”

  “Lower ’em,” he said over his shoulder, dropping his hand. “We’re clear.”

  “You came ready for a firefight, I see,” Awen said.

  “Didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “Shoot first, ask questions later. Am I right?”

  Magnus raised an eyebrow. “You’re learning.”

  In a poorly coordinated attempt to greet one another, Magnus leaned in for a side hug while Awen extended her hand. Magnus adjusted, extending his hand, but Awen leaned in for the hug. The result was an awkward collision that left Magnus leaning over his gun and Awen’s cheekbone pressed against his chest plate. They patted one another on the back and then pulled away.

  “Good to see you,” Magnus said.

  “Yeah, you too.” Awen smoothed her clothes with two hands. “Who’re your friends?”

  “Right. This is Rohoar.”

  The Jujari lowered his head and exposed his neck toward her. “It is an honor to meet the Luma emissary of my people once again.”

  Awen’s eyes lit up. “Thank… thank you, Rohoar. It’s an honor to meet you too.”

  In a whisper, Magnus asked, “You okay?”

  “They don’t speak to women, remember?”

  Magnus did remember, thinking back to when he’d escorted her through the mwadim’s palace. “People change,” was all he could think to say. He straightened himself. “And I think you remember Abimbola.”

  Awen stepped forward to shake the Miblimbian’s large hand. “Yes, quite. It’s good to see you again, Abimbola.”

  “And you, Madame dau Lothlinium.”

  “And here you have Rix and Silk, two of Abimbola’s Marauders.”

  They waved at Awen.

  “And finally, four of the Repub’s finest: Marine Corporal Aubrey Dutch, Private First Class Tony Haney, Private First Class Waldorph Gilder, and Navy Chief Warrant Officer Shane Nolan.”

  “Pleased to meet you all,” Awen replied with a wave. “And thank you for coming. Please, come aboard.”

  Magnus turned to Rohoar. “Would you please go get the others?”

  “Right away, scrumruk.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  The exterior of Awen’s starship should have given it away. But it wasn’t until Magnus was standing on the bridge and met Azelon that he realized the vessel was from some advanced alien species. The Repub was still centuries away from anything this complex, and to his knowledge, nothing like it existed in any other part of the galaxy.

  “Pretty impressive, right?” Awen turned around in the middle of the bridge.

  “I’d say.”

  The rest of the crew seemed dumbstruck too. The gleaming surfaces, soft blue-and-white lighting, sleek black controls—all of it was almost transcendent. That was the best word Magnus could think of. But he wasn’t even sure if that was right. He was a Marine, not a poet.

  “Where did you say this ship was from?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Magnus continued to look around, head on a swivel. “Right.”

  The slender white robot spoke up again. “This ship hails from—”

  “Let’s save that for later, Azelon,” Awen said.

  “Understood, Awen.”

  The bridge’s elevator doors opened. Magnus instinctively raised his MAR30 but not all the way. A man in his late twenties—most likely a Nimprith, judging from his narrow eyes and olive skin—stepped from the elevator, accompanied by the modified nav bot. The last time Magnus had seen this pair, he’d asked Enzo to stay behind on Worru and protect Awen. Based on Magnus’s experiences on the Luma home world, he guessed Enzo had done a stand-up job.

  They approached Magnus’s team, hands extended.

  “Enzo,” Magnus said, taking his hand.

  “Eeezo,” the man replied.

  “Right. Good to see you again.”

  “You too.”

  “And you’re TT-96 or something,” Magnus said, shaking the bot’s hand.

  “TO-96, sir. Pleased to meet you once again.”

  “Pleasure’s mine.” Magnus leaned in and nodded toward Awen. “I can see you did as I asked—back on Worru, I mean. Thanks.”

  “She got herself into some trouble similar to what I’m guessing you found. You were right to ask us to stay behind.”

  “Good to know my gut’s still got it.”

  Ezo turned to Abimbola. “It seems you just can’t escape these two, now, can you, Abimbola?” He gestured toward Magnus and Awen.

  “Seems that way,” Abimbola said, flipping a poker chip. “The gods have weighted the odds, and when that happens, well…”

  “Somehow, Ezo doesn’t think the gods have anything to do with this, Miblimbian. But to each hi
s own.” Ezo nodded at the other Marauders. “Rix, Silk, good to see you.” They nodded in reply.

  “Right,” Magnus said. “And this is the rest of my crew, with three more on the way.” Magnus made the introductions with Dutch, Haney, Gilder, and Nolan.

  “We’ve got two more in sick bay,” Awen added. “We’ll introduce you later.”

  “Sounds good,” Ezo replied.

  “So, what’s this all about, Magnus?” Awen asked.

  “Well, I’m hoping you can fill in a few blanks yourself.”

  “Oh?”

  “But it might take a while, and we don’t have that much time.” Magnus looked around, noticing there weren’t going to be enough seats for everyone. “Got somewhere we can sit?”

  “Right this way, Magnus,” Azelon said, gesturing toward the elevator.

  “Dutch, I want you and the others to stay put here on the bridge. Bimby and I need to debrief my friends.”

  “Understood, LT.”

  “When the others get here, send Rohoar and the ladies my way.” He turned to Azelon. “How will the rest of my crew know where to go?”

  “That will be taken care of, Magnus. There is no need to worry.”

  “Good.” He looked back at Dutch and the rest of his ragtag crew. “You need anything, reach me over comms.”

  “Copy that.”

  * * *

  Magnus and Abimbola sat down in heavily padded white chairs finished with tan leather as Awen and Ezo joined them. The oversized seats were scattered throughout a mess hall that looked more like a hotel’s grand parlor than it did a starship’s dining facility. The closest ship Magnus could compare this to was Valerie’s—yet for all its luxury, Valerie’s still paled in comparison.

  Round orbs of light hung from the curved ceiling, suspended in midair. Embroidered purple banners—which seemed more like war pennants than wall dressings—hung on the walls. And the white tables were spotless, as if they’d never been used. In fact, it felt as though this entire ship had never been used. Which was strange, as Magnus had the most peculiar feeling that this vessel was older than any other in the galaxy.