He’d been so caught up in training over the last several days that he’d completely forgotten about the lizard. Now, as he prepped the arena for morning sparring, the last thing he expected to see was the archenemy of the Jujari striding out of the rows of tents.
“Stay where you are,” Magnus ordered, ready to point and shoot without hesitation.
Saasarr looked at Magnus and raised his hands… talons… claws. Whatever.
“Don’t shoot, Marine,” Saasarr said with a hiss. “Saasarr is unarmed.”
“That means nothing to me. Who let you out of your cage?”
“What means nothing to you?” Saasarr said, taking another step forward.
Magnus raised his Z, aiming down the sights at the lizard’s center mass. “I swear to all the mystics, if you take another step, I’ll drop you, no questions asked.”
“Is Magnus afraid of Saasarr even when Saasarr is without a weapon?”
“I’m not afraid of you, but I am afraid of what will happen when you meet the rest of my team.”
Saasarr let out a long hiss. Magnus could feel his muscles coiled up and ready to spring into action. He’d met Reptalons on several other occasions, and they were—without question—one of the vilest opponents he’d ever faced. Second maybe to the Jujari.“There’s no need to worry,” came a new voice, and a tall, dark-haired woman emerged from one of the tents.
“Sootriman,” Magnus said, dropping the barrel of his pistol ever so slightly.
“Good to see you too, Magnus.” She pointed to his pistol. “Mind putting that away?”
He hesitated. Away? “Sootriman, begging your pardon but—”
“I’ve got it all worked out.”
He squinted at her and then at Saasarr. “You’ve got what worked out?”
Given the long list of grievances the Jujari and the Reptalons had with one another, he found it hard to believe that Sootriman had “worked it out.” That said, she was a woman of significant power and resources. Hell, she’d managed to employ the lizards as members of her personal guard. Magnus figured that was equivalent to catching lightning in a bottle and using it as a nightlight on command.
“I figured out how to get the Reptalon and the Jujari to play nice.” She skirted Saasarr, approached Magnus, and laid a palm on the top of his Z.
That rubbed him the wrong way—nobody touched his weapons but him. But Sootriman wasn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill nobody. She had a way about her. Magnus had hardly known her more than a few hours all told, and he noted that she had a way of getting people to do what she wanted. You don’t become ruler over Ki Nar Four because you play by the rules.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’d you do?”
“I reminded him of his blood oath to me and told him that if he didn’t put his grievances aside, I’d offer him back to his overlord on Orin Five and tell his nest that he betrayed me.”
Magnus glanced at Saasarr. The lizard flicked his tongue in the air but said nothing to contradict Sootriman’s story.
“You just told him not to attack the Jujari after how many centuries of grudges…?”
“Just a couple,” she replied with a smile.
“And how’s that working out for you, lizard brain?” Magnus asked Saasarr, who licked the air again but said nothing. That’s not good enough. “’Cause a bunch of Jujari are gonna walk out here in about five minutes, and they ain’t gonna just let you waltz around here without taking a bite out of you.”
“Magnus, please,” Sootriman said.
“And you’re telling me”—Magnus took several steps toward Saasarr—“that you’re just going to let them do that? After all they did to your people? You’re going to let them walk all over you?”
Magnus noticed the lizard’s eye twitch. There it is.
“Imagine what your overlord is going to say to you when you had a prime opportunity to slaughter almost a dozen unarmed Jujari in cold blood. Imagine the shame.”
Several blood vessels pulsed under the creature’s scaly skin. Magnus could even smell the hormone sacs excreting their defensive scent across the scales behind his neck. That stuff was nasty.
“What’s it gonna be, lizard breath?” Magnus took two more steps, his Z mere centimeters from the end of the Reptalon’s snout. “Go ahead. I’m ready for you. Do it.”
“Magnus!” Sootriman scolded.
“No,” Saasarr said at last. He lowered his head and took a step back.
That was new. Reptalons never retreated. Ever. Just like they never let go once their jaws clamped down on something. It was their fatal flaw but something that shouldn’t be toyed with nonetheless.
“Damn, woman,” Magnus said to Sootriman. “What’d you do? Work some voodoo magic on him or something?”
“I already told you—”
“The shame of failing a blood oath,” interrupted Saasarr, “is greater than the shame of failing to kill a Jujari. Saasarr knows where his priorities are.”
“Good,” Magnus said, satisfied. He holstered his sidearm and nodded at Sootriman. “That’s step one.”
“What’s step two?” she asked.
“What do you think?” No sooner had Magnus spoken than his three new platoons emerged from the mess hall. Sootriman turned with Saasarr and watched as the warriors filed out. It wasn’t long before the Marines noticed their lieutenant and then spotted the Reptalon. Once that happened, the Jujari took notice.
Howls echoed through base camp as if a pack of wolves had just discovered a woodland kill in the dead of winter. Magnus felt the hair on the back of his neck go rigid, just as he was sure the Jujari’s hackles were raised. Shouts went up from among the Marauders and the Marines as the Jujari started bounding straight for Saasarr.
“Dammit,” Magnus yelled, ripping his MAR30 off the maglock on his back and drawing it on the incoming pack of hyenas. “Awww, spliiick! Stand down! I said, stand down!” But the beasts weren’t even listening. Foam frothed from their jowls, claws scratched at the stone, and snarls filled the still morning air.
Magnus didn’t want to shoot them. Rohoar and Abimbola had nearly died trying to secure these recruits. Mystics knew, Magnus would need everybody he could to have a fighting chance against Kane’s operatives on Ithelia. Otherwise, this was going to be a bloodbath.
And so what? One less Reptalon to worry about isn’t such a bad thing.
Suddenly, Sootriman stepped in front of Saasarr. The Reptalon said, “My lord, no!” But the woman wasn’t going to budge. Magnus stared in wide-eyed wonder as eight Jujari warriors bounded toward the dark-haired beauty as she stood in front of the Reptalon. The moment was one of a kind… and someone was definitely going to die.
A loud roar went up from somewhere in the camp. Magnus ducked instinctively, swinging his MAR30 around in the direction of the sound. But the noise was so loud that he couldn’t get a bearing on it. He covered an ear with a hand, trying to shield the other with his shoulder. “What the hell?” he asked no one in particular.
The effect on the Jujari, however, was more dramatic. The warriors slid to a halt, their claws scraping across the stones and dirt, creating furrows in the ground just three meters short of Sootriman, painting and sweating. But now their heads hung low, ears folded down in… deference?
Rohoar strode out from between the buildings leading up the temple road. He was on the far side of the open area, ambling toward Magnus.
“For crying out loud,” Magnus yelled. “Think you could have done that a little sooner? I almost had to shoot some of your warriors to make a point!”
“I have made the only point that needs to be made,” Rohoar said, now within a few meters.
“And what point is that?”
Rohoar looked at Sootriman and then the lizard. “Does Magnus wish this Reptalon to remain unharmed?”
Magnus eyed Rohoar then Saasarr then the Jujari. “Yeah, one hundred percent.”
“And this Reptalon is a vital part of the mission’s execution?”
“He
is, Rohoar.”
“Then he shall not be harmed.”
Magnus looked again at the Jujari. Their heads were bowed in reverence—all but one of them…
“Would you like to say something, Grahban, son of Helnooth?”
Grahban’s ears were erect. That’s different. Rohoar didn’t miss a thing, which was no surprise as he was these warriors’ former mwadim.
Grahban raised his head. “Why have you become soft?” When Rohoar didn’t respond, Grahban continued. “Why, after generations of bloodshed, would you let this drehglesh harcum breathe the same air as us?”
“And what would you do?” Rohoar said, stepping closer to Grahban.
Grahban stood up on his hind legs, raising himself as tall as Rohoar. “I would flay his hide from his body and feed it to the carrion atop the ramparts of the Great Gate.”
“And can you see the Great Gate from here?” Rohoar asked.
Grahban sneered at Rohoar. “I do not need to see it to know that—”
“And tell me, what about Oorajee? Do you see it too?”
“Yes, in my heart, I see—”
Rohoar struck the other Jujari with a single paw, knocking him to the ground. The strike was so swift that Magnus never even saw it coming. He only heard the sound of fur rippling through the air and the deep thud of the blow against the side of Grahban’s head.
“You are a fool, then, Grahban. Oorajee is too far to see. If we hold to our bitterness, it will only lead to death. But if we embrace honor, if we embrace the pledges we give to those whose lives we are sworn to protect, then we have a chance of living. Do you want to live, Grahban?”
The Jujari was recovering from the blow to his head. He licked his chops and winced as blood pooled from the corner of his mouth.
“Do you want to live, Grahban?” Rohoar said, his paw coming to rest on Grahban’s shoulder. Magnus could see the long nails pressing into the soft flesh at the base of the hyena’s neck.
“Yes, Mwadim. I want to live.”
“I am not your mwadim anymore, Grahban. But I will kill you just the same if you bring harm to this Reptalon or anyone else whom my blood oath deems essential. Do I make myself clear?”
Grahban lowered his head and bared his neck. As soon as he did so, Rohoar removed his paw and stepped back. “They are yours to command,” he said to Magnus. “You won’t have any more problems from now on.”
Magnus glanced at Sootriman, who looked as surprised as he felt. “Mystics, had I known it was going to be that easy, I would have done it days ago.”
“Sure you would’ve.” Sootriman patted him as she passed him, heading for the arena. When Magnus didn’t turn to follow her, she added, “Are we doing morning PT or what, Marine?”
She was pushy. But Magnus liked pushy—it was a hell of a lot better than being a pushover. He glanced at Rohoar and then the rest of the teams. “You know what?” he said over his shoulder. “Why don’t you get them started, Sootriman.”
“Me? But—”
“Since you seem so enthusiastic, they’re all yours. I’ve got something to discuss. I’ll relieve you in a while.”
“But—”
“They’re all yours, warlord.”
* * *
Magnus, Awen, and Rohoar stood in the shade of the temple tree, their feet not more than a meter from the edge of the fountain’s cold, clear waters. Rohoar had followed Magnus and Awen, his brow furrowed in suspicion. The Jujari had every reason to be concerned. Neither Magnus nor Awen had taken the time to debrief with Rohoar after the virtual binary bomb he’d dropped on everyone two days prior.
“You are upset about our history,” Rohoar said, breaking the silence.
Awen shook her head. “Rohoar, we—”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to unsettle you. I understand that everything I shared must have come as a shock.”
“Well…” Awen conceded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“It was not my intent to cause distress in any of you.”
“Listen,” Magnus said, “we’re not here about that. Well, not exactly. But we’re not mad about anything. We just want to run something by you.”
Rohoar looked to his right and left. “This is a strange custom. What is achieved by running by someone?”
“Mystics…” whispered Magnus with a shake of his head.
“He doesn’t mean it like that,” Awen said. “What he means is we’d like to ask your opinion on something.”
“My opinion?”
Awen nodded. “Yes. We’d like to ask your permission to call our new group of warriors the Gladio Umbra.”
Rohoar looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“We need a name for our team,” Magnus said.
“And you want to call yourselves the Gladio Umbra?” Rohoar scratched the side of his neck. “I do not understand. You are a Marine, and you are a Luma. What reasons do you have to require redefinition?”
“That’s the right question to ask.” Magnus looked at Awen then back at Rohoar. “I can never go back to being a Marine after what happened to my eyes. And even if I could, the Republic’s out to arrest me. My career there is done.”
“And I can never go back to being a Luma,” Awen added. “After whatever So-Elku has done to it, there is no more Luma for me.” Awen lowered her head, and her voice softened. “Sometimes, when old things die, something new has to be birthed… something that reminds us of the way things used to be. But since it’s new, it must do things as they’ve never been done before.”
Awen raised her head and looked Rohoar in the eye, not blinking. Interestingly, it was the Jujari who finally looked away, not the Elonian.
“We wish to use the name of your ancestors, Rohoar,” Awen said at last. “But only if you allow it and only if you are a part of it. If you don’t wish us to, we completely understand.”
“I would be honored if you used the name—if we used the name.”
Well, that was easy, Magnus thought.
Rohoar took a deep breath. “Being with you these last several days, I have seen some lights.”
“Seen some lights?” Awen asked.
“Yes. Isn’t that what you say? When you have ideas?”
Magnus did his best not to laugh, and he could see Awen was attempting to suppress her response too.
“There is more to life than fighting just to protect your own interests. This is the Jujari way, of course—to survive at the expense of others. But I know there is also fighting that puts others before yourself. You have demonstrated this well. Again, it is not the Jujari way, but I do believe it was the Novia way. Perhaps it was the Gladio Umbra way too.
“We—the Jujari—have strayed from the path, it seems. Further than I thought… further than any mwadim suspected. In wanting to distance themselves from the Novia, the Gladio inadvertently became the thing they despised: a self-righteous inward-looking tribe. They became Jujari. They became us.”
Rohoar looked into the branches that shaded them. Magnus could see that he was having a real moment. He hadn’t even known the beasts were capable of such deep thoughts. So much for being all gnashing teeth and swiping claws.
“It was Rawmut’s greatest wish,” Rohoar continued, “to see this place, Ni No, and to see Itheliana. He imagined that the Novia were good people. And he dreamed of what a reunion would look like. He dreamed so much that it often made me wonder if he’d lost his mind. At long last, however, I have arrived in the land of my ancestors. My only regret is that I cannot do for my mwadim what I wished to.”
“And what’s that?” asked Awen.
“To show Rawmut that he was right. That the Novia were real and that a peaceful reunion was possible.”
“Rawmut would be proud of you, Rohoar,” Awen said. “You are honoring his desires with integrity and nobility.”
Rohoar took a deep breath. The air exited his nostrils with a subtle whistle as his body appeared to relax. “Thank you, Awen.”
“You’re welcome.”
Awen reached out and placed a hand on Rohoar’s paw. The small gesture delayed the conversation long enough that Magnus had to clear his throat and incline his head toward the Jujari. Rohoar wiped at his eyes and met Magnus’s gaze.
Is this big-ass pooch crying? Magnus wondered.
“The Gladio Umbra are no longer here,” Rohoar said, “but I am their descendant. And now that we are here, we must inhabit this place and train to defend the galaxy. Therefore, I can think of no more fitting title than resurrecting that of the Gladio Umbra.”
“Well,” Magnus said, scratching his beard, “sounds good to me.”
“Me too,” Awen replied. “Thank you, Rohoar.”
“It sounds good to me too,” Rohoar said, but the words seem strained in his mouth.
Awen stared at the Jujari. “Are you okay, Rohoar?”
“No.” He shook his head, brow furrowed as if in pain. “There is no sound that is good in my ears. I was just trying to agree with you.”
31
Magnus spent the night creating a new urban landscape using the ECSE’s creation interface. He’d never seen—let alone heard of—holo-projected hard-light before, but the possibilities astounded him. He was able to create buildings, vegetation, and particles that not only looked authentic but actually felt real to the touch as well. As soon as a simulation was terminated and the hard light dissipated, it was as if nothing had been there at all.
Learning how to use the creation interface had taken him several days. Truth be told, he was having a good time with it. Azelon’s patient tutelage helped him create his first viable scenario. By his fourth, he was making them on his own. They were, however, far from flawless.
“LT?” Dutch asked, her hand raised.
“Just call me Magnus, Dutch.”
“Right. Sorry, sir. Magnus.” Dutch pointed at something overhead. “Is that supposed to be there?”
Magnus looked to where she indicated and saw half of a dune skiff, upside down and floating about ten meters off the ground.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 93