Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6

by Chaney, J. N.

  Virtual Magnus adjusted and fired on the second target, laying waste to it as effortlessly as the first. The third he dispatched with equal efficiency.

  Magnus let out a “Woot!” and pumped his fist in the air.

  The simulation vanished, and Azelon asked, “Does this meet your expectations?”

  “Meet my expectations?” Magnus said without any attempt to hide his enthusiasm. “Hell, yes, it does!”

  “Would you like to see the other platforms?”

  “Are they better than this one?”

  “I am unable to quantify the term better, sir. Could you—”

  “Can they do more damage in less time?” Magnus asked.

  “No.”

  “Then we have our base platform.”

  “Very good, sir. I am pleased, as the DS1479-91A was my first choice as well.”

  “Glad to know we’re on the same page. So, what mods can we make?”

  “Mods, sir?” Azelon asked.

  “Modifications. For instance, it needs to be maglock adaptive, and we’re going to need to make the magazine receivers compatible with standard Repub issue.”

  “I can utilize TO-96’s findings on these topics?”

  “Absolutely. And I want to make sure there is a variable-output function for single-round, three-round burst, and full-auto modes. Mystics, these new recruits will unload a full magazine before the firefight even starts if we don’t.”

  “Acknowledged,” Azelon said.

  “Also, is there a way to borrow some functionality from the MAR30?”

  “What features specifically, sir?”

  Magnus thought through the question and decided that the MAR30’s distortion function was unnecessary, given that the Novia weapon’s energy output could decimate just about any solid structure he could think of. “I was thinking some version of the wide-displacement function. A single pulse, variable frequency. Take out several targets at once in an outnumbered scenario.”

  Azelon paused, presumably processing Magnus’s requests. Finally, she said, “If we utilize the DS1479-91A’s multidirectional sighting feature and its gimbaled barrel to command the trajectory of individual blaster rounds, we can achieve a similar effect without unduly draining energy-magazine capacity.”

  “I have no idea what you just said, but if you’re good with it, so am I.”

  “Would you like a demonstration?”

  Magnus smiled and gave a short chuckle. “Azie, for the record, you never need to ask me if I want a demo. The answer will always be yes.”

  “Acknowledged, sir. Demonstration initiating.”

  Virtual Magnus appeared once again, looking downrange. This time, a dozen smaller targets were spread across the firing range at different heights and distances.

  “The onboard computer will need time to calculate the precise location of each target,” Azelon explained. “But we can make that time adjustable by reducing potential accuracy.”

  “I like it.”

  “In a perfect scenario with at least two seconds of calculation allowance, twelve targets will be eliminated as follows…”

  Virtual Magnus squeezed the trigger. Two seconds passed before the weapons spit out a staccato burst of twelve rounds. To real Magnus’s amazement—and probably virtual Magnus’s too, he concluded—each round struck its own target, blasting an eight-centimeter hole clear through it.

  “Damn, Azie,” Magnus said, letting out another whistle.

  “Does this meet your satisfaction, sir?”

  “It meets my satisfaction and then some.”

  “The only thing I must warn you about is that this function will only be available to operators with a Novia biotech interface, or NBTI.”

  “A biotech interface?”

  “Correct, sir. The calculations required for this operation place high demands on both the AI and operator. I will need several days to properly integrate each user into the Novia Defense Architecture.”

  “The NDA.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Damn, you like your acronyms almost as much as the Marines do.”

  “I am unable to verify that claim. However, I will take your word for it, sir. Shall I proceed in manufacturing a prototype for you?”

  “Sounds good. Only, there are two more things we need to talk about.”

  “What’s that?” Azelon asked.

  “What color is the body?”

  “That is an excellent question, sir. The receiver is covered in a glossy-white telecolos emulation compound, while the stock and barrel tip are what you would call matte gray.”

  “Go back,” Magnus replied. “Tele-whatever emulation compound? What’s that?”

  “It’s a material that emulates visual information and projects it within the average spectral range of most sentient life forms in the metaverse.”

  “So… you’re saying it can change color.”

  “Among other things, yes.”

  “Patterns?”

  “Yes. Material synthesis, environmental cloning—anything within the visible light spectrum.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better.” He could think of several applications for such tech—most notably, armor.

  “What is your second point of discussion, sir?”

  “The name. There’s no way we’re saying DS14-whatever in the field. That may have worked for the Novia Minoosh, but that’s not gonna work for us. So I’m thinking of something else.”

  “What do you propose?”

  Magnus scratched under chin, then said, “What about something simple, like the NOV1.”

  “NOV for Novia, plus the first integer of your numbering system.” Azelon paused. “It is acceptable to the Novia.”

  “Hold up—the Novia?”

  Magnus had forgotten that when he was talking with Azelon, he was conversing with the entire Novia singularity in some form or another. But that also begged another question that had been scratching at the back of his head since Awen first filled him in on their initial findings. If the Novia were a peace-loving species that sought to see the unity of all things—blah, blah, blah—why were they suddenly all right with him using their 3-D printers to manufacture advanced weapons for an assault force? The answer, Magnus feared, was that Kane’s men were getting closer to some resource or invention that the Novia Minoosh didn’t want them having access to.

  “Yes, sir. As I said, the Novia approve of your proposed name as well as your suggested modifications. Pending the results of your team training, the weapons significantly increase your likelihood of mission success.”

  Magnus thought to ask for the actual percentages but then thought better of it. If they were low, that would only serve to dishearten him. At the moment, he was on a high unlike any he’d been on in a while. It was best to stay there and take Azelon’s statement as a compliment.

  “Please let them know I’m thankful for their help,” Magnus said.

  “And they are grateful for yours.”

  “Good deal.”

  “Now, sir, what would you like to make next?”

  “Azie, I thought you’d never ask.”

  27

  “Rohoar!” Piper shouted from across base camp in the hexagonal plaza. She ran toward the Jujari with outstretched arms, outfitted in her glowing power suit. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  “As am I happy to see you,” Rohoar replied, kneeling to embrace Piper in his furry arms. They felt warm and soft, just like last time.

  “I missed you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And did you miss me?” Piper inquired.

  “I’m afraid there was no time to miss anything.”

  Piper pulled away from Rohoar and tilted her head at him. He glanced at Awen, who stood to one side. Awen had a curious look on her face, like she was trying to communicate with Rohoar inside his head. She could do that sort of thing really well.

  “I mean,” Rohoar said, “yes, I missed you, Piper. I had a lot of time to miss you. I be
lieve that is all I did while I was away from you. All I did was miss you until I could not miss you anymore.”

  “Overdoing it,” Awen said with a tight smile.

  Rohoar’s eyes darted around. That made her giggle. She hugged him again. He still smelled like he needed a bath.

  “Well,” Piper said, “I didn’t have too much time to miss you either. Miss Awen—I mean, my shydoh—has been keeping me very busy. Super busy, even.”

  “Your what?” Rohoar asked, his ears perking up.

  “My shydoh. It’s an old word she learned from the Gladio Umbra. It means teacher.”

  “Does it?” Rohoar asked, looking to Awen. “How interesting.”

  “Do you like my suit?” That got his attention back, she noticed.

  “I do see you are wearing a strange suit to cover your nakedness.”

  “That’s inappropriate!” Piper lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s what my mother says when I use that word.”

  “Jujari don’t need such suits. We have fur.”

  “But this is a special suit.”

  “Special in what way?”

  “It lets me do amazing things,” Piper replied.

  “Like what?”

  “Um, like this. Watch.”

  “Piper,” Awen said cautiously. “Careful.”

  “I won’t do anything fancy, shydoh. Promise.”

  “I’m watching you,” Awen said, hands on her hips.

  Piper whispered to Rohoar, “She doesn’t want me to get hurt, that’s all. But watch!”

  She stepped away from Rohoar, lowered her head, and closed her eyes. Then she stretched out her hand and held it palm up. Suddenly, a tiny purple flower appeared, growing from her skin as if it had been soil.

  When Piper opened her eyes, she could tell by the look on Rohoar’s face that he was amazed. He sniffed at the flower, pulled back, inhaled, and released a giant sneeze.

  Piper winced but didn’t move, still holding the flower toward him.

  “It’s real,” Rohoar said, sounding full of wonder. “I wish to grow a flower from my hand too. Can you teach me?”

  “Maybe someday. But I think you’ll need a power suit, and I doubt Awen has one in your size.”

  “I definitely don’t,” Awen said. “At least not yet.”

  Rohoar reminded Piper so much of Talisman it hurt. Come to think of it, she’d seen about as much of her stuffed corgachirp as she’d seen of Rohoar in the last week. But where she was content to keep Talisman stored in her tent, she did not want Rohoar stored anywhere. Now that he was on Nieth Tearness with everyone else, she hoped to see him every day.

  “So how was your trip?” Piper asked her fluffy friend.

  “My trip?” He looked at his feet.

  “No…” She giggled. “Your voyage, I mean. What did you do?”

  “First, we turned the ship on a heading toward Oorajee. Then we powered up the main drive core. Then we entered coordinates for Oorajee. Then we made the jump subspace and activated the modulator. Then—”

  “Maybe you can summarize,” Awen suggested.

  “Ah,” Rohoar said. “We recruited eight Jujari and twelve Marauders for our mission. We also narrowly missed certain death at the hands of a squadron of Republic Talons.”

  “Republic Talons?” Piper asked. That doesn’t make sense. “Why would Republic starfighters want to hurt you? That isn’t right. I’m sure it was just a mismanderstand—a misderstanding—a mis—”

  “Misunderstanding,” Awen said.

  “Yeah, a misunderstanding.”

  “It may have been,” Rohoar replied. “But the important part is that we returned safely here.”

  “To me!”

  “Yes, to you, Piper. And I am grateful for that.”

  “Meee too.” She hugged him again, unable to hold herself back.

  “Can I show you around?” Piper turned to Awen. “Can I show him around, shydoh?”

  “As you wish, doma.” Awen checked the time on a small data pad built into the wrist of her suit. “Class resumes in twenty-four minutes, so you have until then.”

  “Thank you, shydoh.” She took hold of Rohoar’s index finger and pulled him forward. “Come on! This way!”

  * * *

  Piper led Rohoar through the buildings that climbed toward the knoll where the training ground was. The street heading up the hill had been cleared by Magnus and his team. The old stones were free of grass and dirt, as were many of the buildings. It was beginning to feel like an actual town—an old one but a special one nonetheless.

  Rohoar seemed to be fascinated with the buildings. He paused several times to examine the stonework, even tracing some of the carved lines with a fingernail. Piper was glad that he liked Ni No so much. That was one more thing they had in common.

  Once they reached the end of the street, Piper ran ahead and dashed under the gate. “This is my tree!” she said, pointing to the middle of the open plaza. “And these are the rocks Awen and I sit on for meditation. We just repaired the fountain and filled it with water again. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Rohoar just stared at the sight, unable to move past the gate.

  “Rohoar, come on.” Piper motioned him with both hands. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It most certainly is.” His voice was much softer than she’d expected it to be. Wasn’t he excited?

  Not content with how slowly he was moving, Piper ran back to him and took his finger. She pulled, urging him to step farther into the plaza. “Come on. I still have more to show you.”

  “The tree,” Rohoar said, pointing to the branches. “It’s blossoming.”

  “Yeah. I love the flowers. And they smell so good too.”

  The petals were yellow and white. Perfect summertime colors, Piper thought.

  “You’re probably tall enough to smell them without a boost, you know,” Piper continued.

  “Indeed,” he said. “I can smell them from here.”

  “Oh, right! You can smell really good, can’t you?”

  Rohoar nodded, not taking his eyes off the tree.

  “Come on, this way.” Piper pulled Rohoar toward the temple at the top of the plaza. She couldn’t wait for him to see it—and the view of the ocean. But the fluffy Jujari was moving so slowly. Maybe he was tired from his trip. Sure enough, the closer they got to the temple, the slower Rohoar walked. Then he stopped altogether. Piper was jerked backward by his sudden stop in momentum.

  “Mr. Rohoar, sir?” She looked up at him. His eyes were locked on the temple. “What’s… what’s wrong?”

  “I… this place is…”

  “It’s beautiful, right?”

  Rohoar nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Come on. Wait until you see the inside.” She pulled and pulled, finally getting the big doggy to budge. He was so heavy. She’d hate to have to carry him if he decided to stop walking.

  As they stepped over the threshold, Piper looked up to see Rohoar’s head slip below the stone doorframe. He was the perfect size for it. And he really seemed to like this place, maybe even as much as she did. His hand slid away from hers as he walked among the columns. He touched the stone walls with trembling hands, tracing the lines, feeling the script.

  “Can you read that, Mr. Rohoar sir?”

  He shook his head. “No.” The way he examined everything was so… what was that word Awen had used? Reverent.

  “My shydoh—that’s Awen—she says TO-96 is planning to come to translate it as soon as he has some free time.”

  “I would like to know what it says.”

  “Right? Me too!”

  “And this is where Awen placed my power suit the first day I found it.” Piper pointed to the stone slab in the middle of the room. “When I came in, I didn’t even notice it at first, but then—”

  Rohoar brushed by Piper and seemed to stumble as he neared the granite table. Then Piper watched in curious fascination as Rohoar did something extremely unusual, at least to her. He fell on h
is knees and leaned on the slab. Then he lowered his head, tilted his neck slightly to the side, and rested his forehead and muzzle in small divots on the slab. It was as if the smooth indentions had been carved out just for his head.

  Rohoar mumbled something so low that it felt like a growl, but Piper could still make out distinct syllables. It was almost like he was chanting. The batten channels on Piper’s suit began to glow. She looked at her arms and chest. Is he making that happen?

  “Mr. Rohoar, sir?” Piper took a hesitant step toward him. “Are you okay?”

  Rohoar’s mumbling grew louder. Suddenly, Piper noticed more light filling the room. It was coming from the lines on the walls. The columns started glowing too. Wherever there were lines and script in the temple, light emerged, as if the carved markings were electrified with brilliant yellow.

  “Rohoar?” Piper asked, spinning slowly around the room. “Are you seeing this?”

  Still, the Jujari was preoccupied with his prayers. His voice was snarling. If Piper hadn’t felt safe with the doggy, she might have been scared. But clearly, this place meant something to him—which didn’t make any sense. He was a Jujari, from Oorajee not Ni No. There was no way for him to know about this place. Was there?

  At last, Rohoar’s voice began to fade, his snarl turning to a low roar and then a soft mumble. Finally, he was still. The glowing subsided, both in the temple etchings and on Piper’s suit.

  The sound of waves crashing on the shore far below came in through the window. Sea birds shrieked in the distance, and the warm breeze whistled softly through the temple. Piper didn’t dare move. Something marvelous had happened—something extraordinary. She had to tell Awen and her mother.

  “Rohoar?” asked a sudden voice from the temple entrance. It startled Piper. She turned to see Awen leaning against the doorframe.

  “Shydoh! You need to—”

  “Hush, doma.”

  “Yes, shydoh.”

  “Rohoar?” Awen asked again. “Are you all right?”

  Rohoar lifted his head off the stone slab and nodded. He slowly pressed himself off the table, took a deep breath, and turned to face Awen.