The bars continued to close in, contracting and descending more and more. So-Elku protested, yelling at the cage as the space grew smaller. Awen couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like Piper would drag him into the ground itself, crashing him within the cage’s grip.
“Piper, that’s enough,” she ordered. The progression ceased at once. Piper opened her eyes and looked up at Awen. The girl wasn’t so much as trembling—not a bead of perspiration was evident on her brow. “Piper, leave him there as is.”
“But, shydoh, he tried to—”
“I know what he tried to do, but that doesn’t mean we must do the same. Sometimes mercy means letting our enemies live with the consequences of their actions instead of letting them die from them.”
Piper seemed satisfied with the explanation, though clearly not happy about it. She relinquished control of the bars with a sigh, but did not release So-Elku from his prison. He remained crouched beneath the bars’ fitful sputtering and spitting, showered by miniature lightning bolts that licked at his robes.
“So long, bitch,” Piper said.
“Piper! Language!”
“What? Abimbola said it.”
“That does not mean you can say it!”
“But I was just—”
“That’s enough,” Awen said, feeling mortified. And yet, secretly, she smiled inside.
* * *
Awen and Piper appeared back in So-Elku’s study and opened their eyes. The Luma Master stood as before. But his face was contorted in frustration, eyes closed, sweat dripping down his forehead. His mortal body was contracted, hands balled into fists—and yet, he remained motionless.
“Piper, be careful,” Awen said as the little girl walked over to examine him. She still clutched the book to her chest and made a full circuit around him.
“How long will he stay like this?” she asked
“You tell me,” Awen replied.
“For a while then. Until we’re safely away.”
“I think that’s more than fair.”
“Fair?” Piper wrinkled her nose. “Fair means we shoulda killed him. Just like what he wanted to do to us.”
Awen made to reply but found that the girl had a point. “Perhaps fair is not the best word. Releasing him once we are free is gracious of you.”
“But won’t he just try and kill us again later?”
Awen didn’t feel up for answering these questions. At least not at the moment. They had the codex, So-Elku was temporarily bound, and now it was time to fight their way back to the shuttles. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we’ve got to get everyone back to the Spire. Come on.” And with that, the pair turned from So-Elku’s study and left the man’s body fighting in a fitful rage.
25
For almost three minutes, Rohoar and the other gladias had been picking off members of the Blue Guard who stepped away from the main fight. Beyond that, however, the platoons were of little use to Willowood. The fighting had become so compact—more close quarters combat than an open range scenario, as Magnus called it—that their NOV1s were a liability, not an asset. Plus, this was one round of CQB that Rohoar knew Magnus’s team was not prepared for.
But perhaps Rohoar’s was.
“Magnus, would it not be helpful to Willowood if we Jujari lent her our claws?” Rohoar asked. Willowood was losing several Luma to the blue-robed assailants.
“It’s certainly worth asking.” Magnus opened the company channel. “Willowood, would our platoon of Jujari be of any use to you right now?”
“Send them in,” she replied. “But tell them to be careful.”
“I can hear you, Madame Luma,” Rohoar replied.
“Their attacks are powered, Rohoar. These aren’t your average Luma. Stow your blasters and roll up your sleeves.”
“We’re on our way.” But Rohoar paused and looked at Magnus. “We are not wearing sleeved garments. What does she mean?”
“She means to get ready to bash some heads, pal. Now get in there!”
“Your kind has too many worthless expressions,” Rohoar growled. “Also, I do not think she knows about our own powers in the Unity.”
Magnus gave Rohoar a surprised look—perhaps the man had also forgotten that the Jujari were descendants of the Novia Minoosh and the original Gladio Umbra. But he was smarter than that. Wasn’t he?
Rohoar summoned all of Delta Platoon to him, mag-locked his NOV1 to his back, and bounded down the stairs on all fours. His pack released long howls as they charged down the hallway. Jujari jumped to the sides of the columns and then leapt away, looking for any advantage they could as they neared the battle line. Willowood’s forces were stretched widthwise, paired even with the enemy. But the blue robed fighters were thinning Willowood’s ranks and threatened to punch through the line.
Rohoar’s claws dug into the red carpet and his heartbeat quickened. The sound of the battle clash drew near and he looked to his sides to see the Jujari surging forward as one. On his left were Saladin, Czyz, Longchomps, and Grahban; to his right were, Arjae, Dihazen, and Redmarrow.
His tongue whipped in the wind, tasting the pheromones of his enemies as they noticed the pack of crazed predators charging at them. No matter how many times Rohoar tasted it, he never tired of swallowing his adversary’s fear.
Rohoar barked an order and loosed his pack.
Several of his fighters sprang off the pillars and dove to the rear of the line, while others forced their way headlong into the fray. Jaws snapped on raised Luma arms. Claws swiped at terrified faces. Saliva and blood splashed into the air, commingling in the clash of bodies.
Rohoar came up on Willowood’s right. She must have sensed his presence—that, or she noticed the look of terror in her opponent’s eyes—and stepped aside to allow him through. The enemy Luma sent a blast of energy at Rohoar, but the Jujari had already pushed off the ground and was airborne, flying at the man. Rohoar’s top teeth closed on the man’s neck and shoulder while his bottom teeth caught under the man’s opposite armpit. The Jujari clamped down hard and heard his prey scream as they struck the ground.
The pair tumbled across the floor, flipping end over end. When they stopped, Rohoar gave a final snap and felt the Luma’s chest cave in. He released the body as soon as it went limp, his ears detecting the final sounds of air escaping from the puncture wounds in the cavity.
Rohoar sprang to his feet and twisted around. He was behind the enemy line now, but two Luma had noticed him. They turned toward him and moved closer, their hands in some sort of defensive fighting posture. He’d never seen the form before, but trusted Willowood’s advice to stay clear of their attacks.
The two blue Luma moved closer and closer before one of them lunged at Rohaor. The second did the same, both aiming for Rohoar’s chest. Just before the blows landed, Rohoar rolled to the side. He lashed out with a muscled arm and sliced through the nearest enemy’s gut. Three crimsons streams of blood laced through the air as the assailant cried out. Rohoar smelled the iron on his paw as he completed his roll and then gained his feet once more.
The gut-sliced Luma was down, struggling on his knees, while the second circled Rohoar tentatively. The man lashed out several times, his fists and feet aglow with energy from the ethereal realm. Like most humans, this man didn’t know that some Jujari had inherited the ways of the Unity from their Novian ancestors. So, Rohoar let the blow come.
The Luma landed a palm against the Jujari’s chest. The power raced from the man’s arm and impacted Rohoar like a lightning bolt. A blinding white flash lit up the hallway while a thunderclap made Rohoar’s ears ring. But when the violent concussion subsided, Rohoar remained standing.
The assailant blinked in stunned amazement. Then he looked down at his hands in disbelief, clearly unable to reconcile why his deathblow hadn’t slain the Jujari.
“It really is a pity when efforts don’t go as planned,” Rohoar said through clenched teeth. The Luma looked up at him and made to blast the Jujari again, but he never had the chance. Roho
ar batted the man aside as a child might throw a doll across their bedroom. His body hit a pillar with a thud and then slapped against the marble floor.
Rohoar let out another howl and then charged back into the fray. More strikes from the enemy Luma struck his body, but they resulted in little more than bursts of light and sound. He absorbed the energy, storing it within a pocket in the Unity, and waited until he snuck up behind the latest adversary to challenge Willowood. Not that she needed the help—the old woman was clearly the most capable of all those rescued in the catacombs. But as the tide had turned quickly since the Jujari joined the fight, Rohoar took it as a point of personal pride to make his presence known. That, and it was fun.
The blue-robed man swiped at Willowood’s head, but she leaned back and ducked under each successive blow. Her own thrusts were parried and then countered. Rohoar watched just long enough for Willowood to bend out of the way, then laid a paw on the combatant’s back. It was unfair, he knew. But they’d spent enough time here, and it was still a long way back to the shuttles.
Rohoar allowed the pent-up energy to surge out of his chest, down his arm, and through his paw, punching the Luma so hard that the mystic flew over Willowood’s head and sailed toward the steps leading up to Elder’s Hall. When the body finally finished somersaulting and rolled to a stop at the bottom of the step, Willowood turned to face Rohoar and said, “Thank you, Master Jujari.”
“My name is Rohoar.”
“Well then, thank you, Master Rohoar,” she said, smoothing her robes and looking around. “It seems your pack has helped us turn the tide. And rather quickly, I might add. Though I suppose I had not accounted for your powers within the Unity.”
“Most never do,” he said with a toothy grin.
“A point I will not soon forget.” The old woman bowed, and Rohoar returned the gesture.
When the last of the Blue Guard had fallen, Willowood stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled down the hallway. Rohoar was shocked at just how loud the action was and pulled his ears back on instinct. She waved Magnus and the others forward and then looked at Rohoar.
“Is it true you are Piper’s grandmother?” Rohoar asked.
Willowood gave him a soft smile. “It is. And you know my granddaughter?”
Rohoar bared his teeth, though he suddenly remembered that most humans took the gesture to mean a threat. “I do. It is an honor to be her friend and confidant.”
“Confidant?” Willowood seemed impressed by the way she eyed him. “Then you must be a very trustworthy person.”
“I endeavor to be, yes.”
“Well then, consider myself indebted to you for keeping safe the heart of someone I cherish more than almost any other.”
“Your daughter, perhaps? And your husband?”
“My husband has long since passed.” Willowood gave Rohoar a wink. “You had it right with my daughter. Now, shall we get a move on? I’m nearly ready for some morning tea.”
Magnus and the remainder of Granther Company arrived. As they did, Rohoar looked around to inspect the bodies on the floor. Many were incapacitated, but even more were slain. It looked as though the Luma had suffered maybe ten casualties, while none of Rohoar’s kin had suffered serious injury.
“You good, Rohoar?” Magnus asked.
He growled. “Ready for more.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“And it’s a good thing too,” said Magnus’s teammate in the Spire—the one they called Flow. “Because it looks like you got some more company coming, LT.”
“Talk to me, Flow,” Magnus said.
“Looks like Repub Marines, entering the courtyard from three sides.”
“That would be the company stationed beside the Grand Arieline,” said Magnus’s former commander, Colonel Caldwell. The man was old, but Rohoar suspected he still had a lot of fight in him. He also gave off a strong scent of tobacco, which meant he was probably a good tactician, at least according to what little he knew of Repub lore.
Rohoar looked at the colonel and said, “Colonel, will inhaling the smoke of one of your tobacco rolls also give me tactical supremacy over the enemy?”
“Say what now?”
“If I partake with you before we enter battle against your troopers, will it aid me in combating them?”
“Son, I don’t know where in hell you get your intel from but where I come from, we save the cigars for after the fight.”
“I see,” said Rohoar, making a mental note. “Then you and I shall partake when the battle has subsided.”
“Sounds good to me. Now, we have some Repub ass to try and dissuade.”
* * *
Colonel Caldwell walked onto the top of the Grand Arielina’s front steps and raised a fist. The rest of Granther Company held short just inside the front doors, staying mostly out of sight from the Marines gathering below.
“Begging your pardon, colonel,” Magnus said over a private channel, “and I don’t mean to question your judgement here, but you sure this is how you want to proceed?”
“First off, you’re the one leading the company, son. So don’t you dare ask me what I want anymore. I’m doing what I think serves you best unless you tell me otherwise. So from here on out, no more begging anyone’s pardon but your own. You copy?”
“Yes sir.”
“And to answer your question, yes, this is exactly how I want to proceed. So shut up and give me a second.” With that, Caldwell mag-locked his NOV1 to his thigh and removed his helmet with both hands, stowing the cover under his left arm. Then he withdrew a cigar from a cavity on his chest armor and lit it with a small lighter.
Magnus felt Rohoar lean in and whisper against the side of his helmet. “He just told me he inhales tobacco smoke after the battle is over.”
Magnus chuckled. “He does. But sometimes he finds it helpful to inhale it during the fight too.”
“I have taken note. Do all your battle heroes engage in such inhalation?”
“Not all. But most of the good ones do, yeah.”
“I see.”
Magnus returned his attention to Caldwell. The colonel watched in placid stoicism as the courtyard began to fill with an entire company of Repub Marines. Whoever had sent them here, it wasn’t Caldwell. Magnus guessed it was So-Elku’s bidding, but how he’d overridden the colonel’s office, he didn’t know. He just hoped that the rest of the battalion stationed in Worru hadn’t been alerted either, because that would be a fight none of them would walk away from.
The Marines marched in and lined up in assault formation against the Grand Arielina. Any other time, the colonel would be addressing them as their CO and giving them orders. But given the circumstances, it seemed as though the colonel was about to try and pull a fast one.
“Charlie Company, what is the meaning of this?” Caldwell said, his voice ringing out over the square with the trained practice of a drill instructor.
Magnus saw the entire unit swivel to look at the colonel. He couldn’t see through their helmets of course, but he could only imagine the looks of confusion and comments of shared disbelief over comms at the sight of their colonel in a suit of alien armor.
“Captain Daniels,” Caldwell blatted out, “what is the meaning of this?”
Dozens of heads turned and looked at a Marine with the most senior insignia on his chest and shoulder plates. The man stepped forward and removed his helmet. “Sir?”
“Don’t sir me, captain. You know my damn rank by heart.”
“Yes, colonel. I’m sorry.”
“Quit apologizing and tell me the meaning of all this.”
“Colonel, sir, we were ordered to rally to an emergency here, at the Grand Arielina.”
“On whose orders?”
“Why, yours, colonel.”
Magnus watched the colonel remove his cigar and blow out a long white plume of smoke. “Mine, he says.”
Just then, Awen and Piper ran up and appeared beside Magnus. “Sorry we’re late,” Awen said f
rom under her helmet.
“Where have you been?” Magnus looked down at Piper, who clutched an ancient looking book beneath her arms. The moment he saw her, however, the little girl turned away. “I see you retrieved the codex.”
“That’s it, yes,” Awen replied. “We had a little trouble with So-Elku.”
“So-Elku?” Magnus nearly ripped his helmet off. “You encountered him?”
“We fought him,” Awen said.
“And kicked his ass,” Piper added.
“Piper!” Awen whirled on the girl. “I told you not to use that kind of language.”
“Sounds like a regular Marine if you ask me,” Magnus said. For the briefest second, Magnus could have sworn he saw Piper’s helmet poke out from around Awen to look at him.
Colonel Caldwell was addressing the Marines again, and Magnus told Awen and Piper to find cover and prepare for the worst.
“Welp,” Caldwell said, toking on his cigar again. “You all passed the exercise with flying colors. No PT in the morning, and report to your stations at 1100 hours. Sweet dreams, kids. Dismissed.”
Caldwell turned and gave Magnus a look that said, “Hope they bought it.” As Magnus looked out over the courtyard, however, there seemed to be enough indecision in the ranks that he wasn’t so sure the colonel had completed the play.
When the Marine named Captain Daniels refused to walk back down the steps, Magnus felt a knot form in his stomach. He took a slow breath and spoke in an even tone. “Everyone prepare to engage.”
“Colonel, I’m afraid I’m going to need you to confirm your insignia ident,” Daniels said.
“Excuse me?” Caldwell replied, turning to face the captain. The colonel was trying to intimidate the young captain, but Magnus had a feeling this was no longer about grandstanding.
Daniels raised his MC99 at the colonel. “You told us to expect an impersonator, and that he’d be leading a small element of rogue Marines, Jujari, and Luma. From the looks of it, I’d say we found our imposter.” As if to accentuate his pronouncement, the rest of the company raised their weapons and aimed them at the colonel.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 121