“What’s it to me?” Magnus stood upright and looked around, repeating the question once more. “The better question is what’s it worth to you? Because my AI can probably provide me most of what I need with a quick brain scan and background check on your Repub personnel file. But I’d rather do it this way.”
“Good luck,” the pilot said.
“Wrong answer.” Magnus delivered a second punch to the gut, this time sending the pilot to his knees. The man coughed, taking nearly twenty seconds to catch his breath. Magnus put his hands on his knees and leaned over the prisoner. “How about this: I give you something, you give me something, copy?”
The pilot just groaned.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m a former Marine. Which means I can do this all day long.”
“You’re…” The pilot looked up. “You’re a Marine?”
“Former, former Marine. Get it right.”
“No wonder they want you dead.”
Magnus hesitated; he desperately wanted to ask who wanted them dead. But he doubted such an answer would come easily. “Yeah, we’re turning out to be quite a pain in their ass.”
“They’ll send more squadrons when we don’t report back.”
“I should hope so,” Magnus replied. “Because that last demonstration was fairly pathetic if you ask me.” He looked to Dutch. “Get him on board.”
“On it,” she said with a boot to the pilot’s rear end.
* * *
“What are you going to do with the two prisoners?” Awen asked now that they were back on the Spire. She and Magnus were the last to leave the shuttle, and they watched as Robillard and Bliss escorted the Navy pilot and the rogue Recon operator out of the hangar bay. Magnus had asked several leaders to meet him on the bridge in a few minutes to debrief, which meant they had some time to talk. And this point was important to her.
Awen didn’t like seeing Magnus punch a prisoner like he had back on the planet. She knew that bringing it up was like shining a light in a Boresian taursar’s eyes. The Navy commander had, after all, made an attempt on their collective lives, as had the rogue Marine. Still, the subject had to be breached. She wouldn’t tolerate barbarism, nor would she allow the newly formed Gladio Umbra to sink as low as their enemies. She’d be damned if she didn’t stand for the virtues that both the Luma and the Galactic Republic had lost.
“Nothing,” Magnus replied, buckling himself into an empty crash couch on the bridge. “We’ll let them sit for a little while. Then, when I want more information out of them, I’ll take my time in breaking them.”
Awen swallowed. He wasn’t serious, was he? Torturing another member of the Galactic Republic’s armed space force was nothing short of barbaric. It was also proof that the industrial war machine was no respecter of persons. It taught its own members to become so ruthless that they’d even exact judgement on one another if the circumstances were right.
As much as she respected Magnus—even had feelings for him—she couldn’t bring herself to endorse what he’d just proposed. This was the very thing the Gladio Umbra had once stood against, no matter what species perpetrated the crimes. So if Magnus did choose to leverage his trade skills against the prisoners, Awen knew she’d have to step in.
She shook her head, trying not to imagine how that interrogation might go.
“What is it?” Magnus asked her. He must’ve seen her shaking her head. “You don’t agree with my methods, do you.”
“No,” Awen said. “They’re barbaric.”
Magnus nodded… as if in understanding. “I get it.”
“Do you, Magnus? Because, if you hadn’t noticed, you just—”
“Awen, relax.” He held a hand up. It had the strange effect of silencing her more quickly than she cared to admit. She never let anyone shut her up. “I told you, I get it.”
“You get what?”
“You really are impossible sometimes.” He sighed, turning toward her. “I get that you don’t agree with my methods, with Marine SOPs.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, having no idea what he’d just said.
“Standard operating procedures.” He let out a short laugh. “I get that it’s violent. And, yeah, it’s probably wrong a lot of the time.”
“A lot of the time? Then why do—?”
He held up a finger.
Is he shooshing me? she wondered.
“I thought we covered this ground already,” he said.
Awen winced in surprise. “Remind me.”
“Back on Ezo’s ship. On Geronimo.” Magnus seemed to be genuinely searching her face. “We’re called to do evil things—”
“To evil people.” Awen nodded. “I remember now. You said you didn’t expect me to understand.”
“And I still don’t. It’s part of my job.”
“Not anymore,” Awen said.
Magnus hesitated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That was when you were a Marine.” He waved the term away with a hand. “No, you said you were Recon. But you’re neither a Marine nor Recon anymore. You’re Gladio Umbra.”
“But there are no fewer evil people to stop,” Magnus said.
“Maybe not, but if those tactics worked, don’t you think we’d have solved the problem by now?”
Magnus stroked his jawline. “The goal was never to solve the problem, Awen. It was to keep innocent people alive.”
“And how’s that worked out for you?” The challenge leaped from her mouth before she could catch it. She instantly regretted it but knew there was no way to take it back. “I’m sorry, that was—”
“It’s worked well enough to keep the galaxy from falling into total ruins. At least until recently. But the ways you’re used to… it’s just… that’s how good people get killed.” Magnus looked away, his eyes searching for something that Awen couldn’t see. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to go on. But she wanted him to keep going. She wanted to know what made him think the way he did… what drove a man like him to do things she didn’t even want to imagine doing to another living being.
“We both know you don’t like the Order of the Luma,” Awen said, trying to keep her voice even. “But I can’t help but feel that something happened. Something in your—”
“Something did happen. Plenty of things happened.”
Awen tried to get him to look at her but his eyes were somewhere else.
“What?”
“First time I ever saw a Luma try to negotiate a peace deal in the field, it went sideways. We were set up on a rooftop on a small island on Caledonia. The emissary had conned—sorry, convinced the brass into letting him try to bargain with the ’kudas. Everyone on Capriana was tired of war, and we were losing by attrition. So they gave him the reins.
“The bastard walked four of our Marines to a bridge without their weapons and without cover. It was supposed to be a sign of peace or some splick. Three fish came out to meet them, but one was wired.”
“A bomb?”
Magnus nodded. The Caledonian Wars had ended years ago, but this memory still seemed fresh for Magnus. Like it had just been yesterday.
“Apparently the Luma raised some sort of shield just before the device went off. It saved his life. At least from the initial blast. The other Marines weren’t so lucky.”
“Mystics, Magnus. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. So am I. Our damned boys didn’t even have blasters in their hands. And what about a force field big enough to save them too? But I suppose that was too much to ask for.”
Awen knew she should explain how shielding energy worked in the Unity. But this wasn’t the time. Given how much he’d seen, she doubted it would ever be the right time. Instead, she hung her head and waited for Magnus to finish.
“The Luma emissary died a few seconds later by enemy blaster fire. We buried his body the next day, but there was nothing left of the four Marines.” He took a deep breath. Awen thought she heard the slightest quiver of his lip but dared not look up.
>
“I don’t like it, if that’s what you want me to say. All the killing, I mean. I don’t. But I’m damned good at it. And it’s what I know. The only way to keep evil at bay is to meet it head on. If there was another way, I’d use it. But the only alternatives just seem to get more people killed. And if people are going to die, I’d rather it be them than us.”
Awen felt as though some sacred space had just been created. She’d been allowed deeper into this man’s life, a man she cared for. And she desperately didn’t want to mess it up. Yet, as he spoke his truth, she had a hard time swallowing it. How could she tell him that she felt he was settling for less than the best? How could she convey to him that everything he knew was inferior to ways of shaping peaceful outcomes that didn’t involve the level of violence he’d come to be so proficient at? Maybe the whole subject wouldn’t be breached now, but she could at least start—by offering an olive branch of her own.
“What you do…” Awen took a deep breath. “It’s remarkable.”
Magnus shot her a bewildered stare. “Excuse me?”
“I couldn’t do it. Mystics know it’s not in me. And you’ve probably saved more lives than I could ever hope to.”
This was, perhaps, the only time she’d ever seen him slack-jawed. He acted like he wanted to say something, but she didn’t want him to. Not yet anyway.
“Truthfully, where would we be without you, Magnus? You’re the one who has held this team together… you’re the one whose leadership and sacrifice have guided us. And, yes, your propensity to meet violence with violence has meant stopping the enemy from killing us. Killing Piper. And me.”
Awen took another deep breath. Magnus was searching her face. His gaze was intense, and she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable in her admonitions. But this next part might put an end to all that, and she didn’t want to hurt him. However, she had to at least try and help him understand.
“All I’m saying is that with everything we’ve seen, with everything that’s been done, there has to be another way forward. A better way forward. And before you say anything, I don’t claim to know what that way is. I don’t. The Luma haven’t found it, and the Republic hasn’t found it either. But maybe, just maybe, if we’re lucky, we can discover it together.”
There was a long moment that passed between them as Magnus looked deeply into her eyes. It felt much like the moment they’d shared back on Neith Tearness when they kissed—only deeper. This wasn’t infatuation. It was something more… perhaps the beginning of mutual respect… of a desire to grow toward something together.
“I believe you,” Magnus said, taking her by the hand. “And I would like to find it together.” Then, in what was one of the most astounding things she could have imagined, Magnus said, “What would you have me do?”
Awen opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Then opened it again. Her mind was a flurry of thoughts. She’d been so opposed to his behavior that she’d never given any consideration as to what, exactly, she might say constructively if given the chance. All her answers were things the Luma would say. Not that they were all bad, but none of them seemed right for this situation. Instead, the only thing she could think to say was: “Don’t torture the pilot.”
Without even hesitating, Magnus said, “Alright.” Then he pulled Awen’s hand toward his chest, wrapped his other arm around her lower back, and kissed her.
She let the moment stretch on for a few seconds before finally pulling away. She smiled at him. “If that’s what happens when I ask you not to torture someone, I can’t imagine what happens if I ask you not to kill anyone.”
Magnus blushed—something she’d never seen him do. “Hey, one step at a time,” he replied.
6
Magnus knew kissing Awen was impulsive, but it was what he wanted. The whole idea of liking her, however, still seemed strange. She was, after all, a former Luma—a member of the very society he’d scorned for so many years. Their notions of peace and inclusiveness had made his stomach turn. But she was no more a Luma than he was a Marine, so distancing themselves from the hardline positions of their former lives seemed inevitable despite whatever vestiges remained.
This new life and these new alliances were changing them both. And he was okay with that. If they were going to survive and stop their enemies, neither he nor Awen could hold to ideals of what they once knew. Something better had to emerge from this, something stronger than what they’d known.
He walked with her toward the bridge, greeting various team members as they passed each other in the corridors. He and Awen were truly building something special. Whether or not they could actually take on the forces of evil that were building in their home universe remained to be seen, but this was the best shot either of them had. And for reasons Magnus couldn’t explain, it felt as though the cosmos wanted them together—wanted them to combine their approaches in rectifying the evil growing in the galaxy.
They were almost to the bridge when Valerie stepped into the hallway. For just having survived a firefight not more than two hours prior, the woman was stunning. With her armor still on, she was the picture of feminine ferocity. The soot stains on her cheeks only seemed to accentuate her eyes, and her blonde hair draped delicately over her shoulder plates. The Marine Corps had been stupid to let her get away and marry a damned senator.
Valerie greeted them both, then looked to Awen. “Piper is getting cleaned up in our room. But…” Valerie hesitated.
“What is it?” Awen said.
“I don’t know. She just seems distracted by something. I was wondering if you might speak with her.”
Awen looked at Magnus. They needed to get to the bridge and regroup; discussing the next steps for their operation was critical. But if Piper needed Awen, so be it. She was a priority.
“Just head to the bridge as soon as you’re done,” Magnus said.
“I will. See you shortly.” She gave Magnus a quick smile, and then ducked into Valerie and Piper’s quarters.
“So,” Valerie said, stepping closer to Magnus. “We made it.”
“Yeah, not bad for the first run.”
“Still rough around the edges.”
Magnus nodded. “Yeah, we’ll need more training before the teams are fluid.”
“Agreed. Communication was bad in a few areas.”
“And we’re gonna need to work on coordinated—”
“Advances,” Valerie said, finishing his sentence. “I noticed it too.”
Magnus laughed. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”
“Well, neither of us are new to this game.”
“True.” Magnus studied her face. Mystics, she was beautiful. And brilliant. And a damn good fighter. As much as Magnus liked Awen, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to Valerie. She represented so much of what was normal to him—his life as a Marine, the cultural norms of Capriana… She was the popular girl in school that everyone wanted to be with. And he knew she liked him, which meant he’d be a fool not to reciprocate the feelings.
And there were feelings. Over the last several months, they’d worked hard to drill Granther Company together, to use their combined experiences in the Corps to develop training exercises that began to turn a ragtag band of fighters into trained warriors. But even despite the amount of time they’d shared, Magnus had resisted outright conversation on… well, anything beyond their working relationship.
Granted, Magnus knew that Valerie would have him if he said anything. He’d want her too, if he was being honest. From the first time he’d laid eyes on her in the senator’s starship, he’d felt something visceral at work—some unseen attraction that made him desire her whether he wanted to or not. And then there was Piper, a little girl in need of a father. Magnus had fantasized, more than he cared to admit, of the family they’d make: weapons loaded and enemies running. But it was more the stuff of movies than reality. The military hated family life. He knew that. And so did Valerie.
In the end, however, Magnus was realizing
that Valerie wasn’t right for him… almost as much as he knew that Awen was right for him. The two women could not be more different in background and worldview. And yet he admired them both for different reasons. He knew that life with Valerie could be wonderful… maybe even easy. They had so much in common. But it was Awen who captured his imagination more than any other woman he’d ever met. She was a mystery to him, one he felt compelled to figure out. And when they disagreed on something, that feeling drove him to want to know her more than ever.
Unlike the life he’d envision with Valerie, Magnus could not see into the future where it concerned Awen. It was almost as if the thought of the unknown called him forward to create some new reality with her. In a weird way, that idea scared him. He didn’t like walking onto the battlefield without having a good idea of what he was getting into. And with Awen, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting into—the unknowns were too great. But that was the strangest part of all. As long as she was there, he knew he could face them. He could face anything with Awen.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Valerie asked.
“What?”
“Just now. You went somewhere.”
Magnus blinked and realized he had, in fact, been lost in thought. “Sorry. I was just… thinking.”
“About what?” Valerie asked. Magnus hesitated long enough that when he didn’t say anything, she went on. “Maybe about how we first met in a starship corridor like this?”
Magnus blinked. Was this conversation about to turn romantic? “Yeah, we sure did.”
“You looked so badass in your Mark VII kit,” Valerie said with a wide grin. “I was always a sucker for a boy in armor.”
“Yeah…” Magnus shook his head. “I mean, I’m glad we met… in my armor.”
Valerie laughed a little and cocked one eye at him. “You feeling okay?”
Magnus rubbed a hand over his face. “I think I’m just tired.”
“We all are,” she replied. “But, after you get cleaned up and we’re on our way, if you want to talk, I—”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 104