Clearly, So-Elku had already gotten to the Marines, or at least one of his lackeys had. And Magnus knew as well as Caldwell did that he’d left his insignia on his Repub armor back in his home. There was no way Daniels was going to get a positive scan. Which meant he was screwed.
“Splick’s about to get real, kids,” Magnus said over the company channel. Green icons raced along the chat window. “Witch’s tits in a tornado kind of real.”
“You want my insignia ident, captain?” Caldwell asked.
“I do, sir. Very much.”
Caldwell took a long drag on his cigar. “Can I give you a bit of advice, Daniels?”
“Sir?”
“When you’re faced with overwhelming odds and only one way out, give your enemy hell.” With that, Caldwell turned on his heel and tossed his cigar.
26
Caldwell was running toward Magnus before the cigar had hit the ground, but when the embers from the tobacco struck the marble, it seemed to trigger an explosion of blaster fire.
The colonel took two shots in the back before stumbling into the hallway. Fortunately, his personal shield had absorbed them. Magnus doubled checked his status bar and saw Caldwell’s shield had been reduced to 71%. Magnus grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the center pillar while a flurry of blaster fire filled the air on either side of them.
“Put that helmet on, gladia,” Magnus ordered over his loudspeakers.
Caldwell did as he was instructed, and then pulled the NOV1 from his leg. “Looks like we’re back at it again, Magnus.”
“And here I was thinking we’d gotten too old for this splick.”
“You might be,” Caldwell said, tapping the top of his helmet, “but I sure as hell ain’t!” Then the colonel rolled out, firing on Daniels, and advanced to a stone half-wall.
“Covering fire,” Magnus ordered. Return fire erupted from the mouth of the hallway in a hailstorm of competing flashes. Magnus’s audio filters engaged, lowering the decibel level, and his visor dimmed against the explosions of color. “Alpha and Bravo Platoons, flank the courtyard. Charlie and Delta, we’re holding the center. Echo, do whatever the hell you can.”
As Alpha and Bravo moved out and down each side of the stairwell, Magnus stepped out to join Caldwell against the wall. Titus and Rohoar led Charlie and Delta Platoons out and sent a withering barrage of blaster fire down on the enemy. The Marines’ MC99 were no match for the NOV1, but the Repub had the numbers. And until Granther Company made a dent in the enemy’s force, those numbers would be a threat.
As soon as Dutch and Abimbola’s forces began drawing fire with their flanking maneuver, Magnus felt a temporary respite in the volley against the building’s face. “Rohoar, take your pack and exploit this.”
“Right away, scrumruk graulap.”
Rohoar and his Jujari tore out of the hallway and ripped down the stairs, moving so fast the first line of Marines didn’t even have time to get a shot off. When the Jujari slammed into the front line, Magnus actually saw a helmet pop up into the air. The sound alone was arresting—a combination of breaking plate armor, screams, and howls.
For the moment, the company’s attention had been diverted to Abimbola, Dutch, and Rohoar’s efforts. This gave Magnus, Titus, and Caldwell time to fire down on the company’s center in an effort to collapse their mass inward.
Magnus aimed at a cluster of three Marines in the middle of the formation and fired his NOV1 at maximum rate. The individual blaster bolts were almost indistinguishable from one another, tying together in a blistering stream of fire that chewed through Repub armor like it was made of fabric. The three Marines were driven backward, colliding with their counterparts as their bodies were ripped to shreds.
But the output had also dropped Magnus’s magazine by 27%. He couldn’t keep that kind of assault up for very long, not without burning through his mags faster than he wanted. He dialed back the fire rate and took aim at the Marines responding to those he had just killed. His targeting reticle locked onto a helmet, and Magnus squeezed, driving two rounds through the cap and splitting it open. He struck the next Marine in the chest and shoulder, and a third one in the abdomen.
A pang of regret grabbed him by the throat and tried to wrench his stomach from his gut. These were fellow Marines he was slaughtering, not some rogue operatives with direct connections to Moldark. Putting Nos Kil down would be one thing. But these bucketheads? They deserved better than this.
Worse, he could imagine their fear… their complete shock at all this. When they’d received their orders, they probably bought a round of shots for everyone in the watering hole that night. They were going to paradise. Drawing a duty station on Worru was akin to winning the mysticsdamn lottery. There was nothing to do here but meet cute Luma girls and try to convince them to give up their vows. Forget ever having to see combat. But now, here they were, getting drilled by some chameleon-clad unit disappearing into the night and surrounding them on three sides.
As Dutch and Abimbola laid into the Marines with withering blaster fire, Magnus saw Daniels signal their retreat. The arm wave would have been accompanied by a verbal command over TACNET.
“I got movement leading out of the courtyard, LT,” Flow said.
“You got ’em on the run, baby,” Cheeks yelled with a hoot.
“Granther Company, maintain pressure. But once they reach the main road, let’s give them a chance to breathe.”
“Sir?” Titus asked. “But they’re shooting to kill!”
“And so are we, so there’s no sense in putting more down if they’ve given up. Just wait and see.”
“Yes, sir.” Titus resumed his rate of fire, dialing in one target at a time using the tips Magnus had given him. He was a damn fine gladia, and Magnus was glad to have him by his side.
The Marines backed into the street, emptying the courtyard as fast as they could. Magnus looked at all the bodies left on the grass as the unit peeled away, and he saw just how lethal Granther Company had been. That, and he realized that whoever had given them the initial order had sent them into a kill box in this courtyard. Magnus would have let the feelings of pride surge through him had the enemy been anything other than Caldwell’s Marines. He could only imagine the pain in the colonel’s chest. But if the old man felt anything, he sure as hell didn’t show it. The man was a machine, delivering one-shot, one-kill combos in numbing succession. The bastard was gunning down his own soldiers as quickly as he could…
Until Magnus realized the colonel was delivering shots to knees, thighs, and calves.
Mystics, he hadn’t killed a single Marine!
Suddenly, Magnus felt like he was going to vomit. He’d been so focused on getting Granther Company to safety—on executing the mission—that he’d failed to see any other option than punching a hole in the Repub as fast as he could.
“You were right to do it, son,” Caldwell said, as if listening to his thoughts. “I see you hesitating there, and I know what you’re thinking. But you just keep doing your part, and I’ll do mine.”
Magnus almost choked on the lump in his throat. “Copy that.”
The Marines were clumped together, filing into the road and seeking cover as Granther Company continued to lay down a wall of blaster fire. Magnus had supposed this was going to be a slaughter, but in the Marines’ favor, not his. Instead, their weapons and armor superiority combined with their placement outside of the courtyard’s kill box gave his gladias the upper hand.
As the last of the Marines exited the grounds, Magnus studied his map. “Granther Company, return to the shuttles. Flow, I want waypoints that take us around the Marines.”
“On it, LT,” Flow replied.
Magnus noted that he hadn’t lost a single gladia in the exchange. And yet so many Marines. He looked at the bodies strewn across the courtyard and, again, found himself fighting to swallow. So-Eklu arranged this. He was sure of it.
“Yes, he did,” Awen replied over comms.
Magnus double checked
to make sure it was a private channel before replying. “I thought we talked about you reading my thoughts.”
“When it comes to advising you, especially in battle, it’s important I get the whole story. And to restate the point, yes, So-Elku arranged this.”
“Mystics,” Magnus said, realizing how apt it was to take the name of Luma’s occupation in vain.
“He’s taken care of, at least for the moment. But we need to move. You can mourn these Marines later.”
“I wasn’t mourning, I was just… Aw, hell, I was mourning.”
“I know. And it’s okay. But we’ve gotta save it for later.”
“Okie dokie, LT,” Flow said. “I’ve got a course marked out for you.”
Magnus watched a series of waypoints and connecting lines appear on his HUD. The new route only seemed to add about five minutes onto their previous path. But if it meant keeping Repub casualties down, he’d take it.
“Thanks, Flow.” Magnus accepted the new course and sent it to all units. “Granther Company, move out.”
“Happy to be of service,” Flow replied. “And sorry about the delay. We’re having issues with the system here.”
Magnus looked at Awen. “What issues?”
“Azelon seems to be preoccupied with something, so we had to do a little old-fashioned orienteering for you.”
“Hold on.” Magnus pinged TO-96 and instructed him to join him at the top of the steps while the rest of the gladias moved out of the courtyard. The bot headed in Magnus and Awen’s direction. “’Six, Flow says there’s something wrong with Azelon. You reading anything abnormal?”
“My sensors are reading all systems normal, sir. That said, I fear that I do not have sufficient connectivity with Azelon to determine whether or not she is fully operational. Though I don’t see why there would be any cause for concern as we have no enemies within range of the ship.”
“But we have Luma,” Magnus said. He turned on Awen. “Is there any way So-Elku or the others could mess with Azie or the ship from down here?”
“Given So-Elku’s recent forays into the additional dimensions of the Unity, yes.”
“Splick.” Magnus was really growing irritated with this Luma master punk. “Flow, Cheeks, listen. I don’t know what’s going on with the ship, but keep your eyes open. I want to know if you encounter anything strange. Copy?”
“You got it,” Cheeks replied. “Flow says the same.”
Magnus hesitated. “Wait, where’s Flow now?”
“He’s over trying to pull up some sort of weapons system.”
“Weapons system?”
“He says you’re going to need it. Our sensors are showing that the Marines are readjusting to cut you off. Seems they’ve figured out you’re trying to head to the star port.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“But we got it, LT. You stay the course, and we’ll try and keep them away.”
“Cheeks, if you don’t have to kill any of them, don’t.”
“I read you. Don’t you worry. We’ll keep the casualties low. Just trying to deter them, that’s all.”
“Okay, good.”
“Come on, Magnus,” Awen said. “Time to go.”
He nodded and then started down the steps. He followed the rest of Granther Company out of the courtyard and moved into the southbound street. The fighting had started to awaken the city, evident by the lights turning on and people poking their heads out of windows and doors. Several members of his company were shouting for people to stay inside, but the sight of the strangely clad warriors only seemed to make the residents more interested.
“Go chameleon,” Magnus said over the company channel. “We don’t need any more eyes on us.” Instantly, the icons on his map changed to white, indicating that the telecolos mode had been engaged. The only icon not yet converted was his. Magnus changed modes and looked at the horizon to his left, catching the stars between buildings. The eastern sky was starting to warm—another hour and it would be sunrise.
Granther Company tracked west, turning at Flow’s first waypoint. Up ahead, however, Magnus noticed the Marines headed south along convergent streets. He was just about to call out the movement when a shaft of light streaked down from orbit and slammed into the city somewhere ahead. The resulting explosion shook the ground and sent a shockwave rippling up from the city. It wasn’t nearly as bad as something like an LO9D—the type of cannon blast he’d survived on Oorjaee. Such a strike would have put countless civilians at risk. But it was enough to tear up a street and divert a pursuing enemy.
Several local klaxons blared, and Magnus could hear shouting coming down the side streets. In spite of these negative developments, however, Magnus saw the Marine movement had been stopped. The icons were doubling back.
“Nice work, Flow,” Magnus said. “Keep it up.”
“You got it. Incoming!”
A second streak of light screamed down from the night sky and struck the next street over. Another shockwave rocked the streets as superheated debris launched into the air.
Flow let out a whoop. “Come on, son! I should have joined the Navy.”
“Don’t get carried away on me,” Magnus replied. “Just enough to keep our path clear.”
“You got it, LT. Hey…”
“Go ahead.”
“Who let you out of your cages?”
Magnus slowed. “Cages?”
“Aw, hell nah.”
“What’s going on?” Magnus demanded, suddenly realizing Flow was talking to someone else. “Cheeks? Someone talk to me.”
“Son of a bitch,” Cheeks yelled.
“Dammit, boys! What’s going on?”
Awen tapped him on the shoulder. Magnus spun on her. “What?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
“I know we do!”
“Not up there.” Awen turned and pointed behind them. “There.”
27
Awen felt Magnus’s hand pat against her body in a wordless attempt to get her moving. When he brought his NOV1 up and fired several rounds into the Luma chasing after them, Awen scolded him. “That won’t do any good!”
Magnus’s volley burst against the Luma shields, dissipating into nothing more than ripples of light and yellow sparks.
“You just take care of the Marines and we’ll handle this,” she added.
He glanced at her. “But…”
“There’s a lot, I know. If we need help, I’ll let you know.”
Magnus let out a frustrated grunt. “I don’t like this.”
“The Marines, Magnus.” She pointed toward the front of their convoy. “Now get out of here.”
There wasn’t time to argue. And Magnus’s forces would be best utilized at the head of the line—he has to realize that, she thought. He finally conceded the point and left her alone, but he seemed to do so begrudgingly. First there was the implication of whatever was happening on the Spire with Flow and Cheeks, and now this. Awen felt pretty sure that this was not how Magnus wanted their retreat to go.
“Willowood, I need you and any Luma able to fight in the back of the line,” Awen said, choosing to communicate over comms instead of in the Unity as it would keep Magnus and the other platoon leaders apprised of her activity. “Rohoar, if Magnus doesn’t need you, I could use Delta Platoon as well.”
“Take him,” Magnus said without hesitation. She could see Magnus charge along the side of the street and tap Rohoar on the shoulder as he passed. “Go. Get back there.”
“Coming your way, Miss Awen,” Rohoar said as he summoned the Jujari to him.
By the time Willowood and Rohoar joined her with their respective forces, the wall of Luma marching toward them had closed to a hundred and twenty meters. They were moving with purpose, heads tipped forward, hands crossed and hidden in sleeves or balled into fists down at their sides.
“Who are these ones?” Rohoar asked, licking his lips.
“The Elders,” Awen said with a chuckle of disbelief. Is this really happeni
ng?
“And where were they a little while ago when we fought the blue ones?”
“Probably still sleeping,” Willowood replied.
“So they’re old and tired.” Rohoar cracked the knuckles on both hands.
“No, not really,” Awen said.
But Rohoar shhh’d her like he would a pup. “This is what helps me win. Picturing them as wrinkly old humans makes it easier.”
Awen made to protest but Willowood laid a hand on her. “If it makes it easier for him…”
“Right.” She smiled. “They’re just wrinkly old humans.”
“Exactly,” Rohoar replied. “Now, let’s strip them of their skins and drink their blood.”
“Rohoar, I—”
“Kidding, Miss Awen. Kidding. Kind of.”
Awen glanced at Rohoar with a confused smile. The look was interrupted by renewed blaster fire from the front of the line. Magnus was engaging the Marines in the absence of Flow’s orbital fire. “Time to do this,” she said, then looked at Piper. “You ready, doma?”
“Of course, shydoh. Let’s kick some—”
“Piper!”
“Butt. I was going to say butt.”
“Sure you were.”
* * *
Magnus found Dutch, Abimbola, and Titus up front, leading the charge against the oncoming Marines. Caldwell’s company, now under the command of Captain Daniels, had split his assault. He used the northern side streets to flank the Gladio Umbra’s westward advance, while the second half of this forces had progressed far enough to double back and come at Magnus head-on. The result was significant pressure to divert them south and east—in the opposite direction of the docks.
“If we are going to make it to the shuttles, then we are going to have to drive right through them,” Abimbola said, firing his rifle from behind a parked skiff. Magnus was crouched beside him, studying the map on his HUD as blaster fire filled the air overhead.
“Copy that, Bimby. The only other option is a long walk around, and something tells me they’ll match us every step.”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 122