“Sir,” the sensors officer said. “I’m detecting a vector change among the Sypeurlion ships.”
“How many?” Seaman asked.
“Fleetwide. They appear to be slowing, Admiral.”
Seaman glanced at DiAntora. The change in momentum was a good sign, and—based on the subtle smile she gave him—she knew it too. In war, alliances could flip in a heartbeat, all at the drop of a credit chip. If you were on the winner’s side, the odds were in your favor, and taking risks usually meant big payouts. But when fortune favored the enemy—or, Fortuna, Seaman thought with a wry twinge in the corner of his lips—all bets were off, even among the strongest of friends. He’d seen allegiances crumble before, and he was witnessing it once again, or so he thought. The Jujari’s loss of the Victorious Might was more than just a blow to their own forces—it was a blow to the faith the Sypeurlion had in them. Probably the Dim-Telok too.
“Let’s press our new advantage,” Seaman said to his captain. “The Jujari’s surrender is imminent. Let’s make sure no Sypeurlion ever thinks about aiding them again.”
“Right away,” DiAntora replied and walked toward the navigation and weapons officers.
Seaman sucked in a deep breath through his nose and pursed his lips. He’d always dreamed of helming a flagship, and now that he’d been given a chance, he felt as though his childhood dreams had been realized. With his recent streak of minor victories, and now this significant win, Seaman felt as though he belonged here at the helm. And it felt good. While Lord Moldark hadn’t conveyed all of the ways he intended to restore order to the galaxy, Seaman felt confident that he would play a critical role in the redemptive process. Forcing the Jujari to surrender and hopefully join the Republic was only the beginning.
“Commodore,” said the comms officer. “Incoming message from Admiral Brighton.”
“On screen,” Seaman said.
The Fleet Admiral’s bust appeared, outfitted in the Paragon’s new naval suit adorned with three white stripes across the left breast. “Commodore Seaman, congratulations on taking out Pethroga’s Victorious Might. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I am relaying new objectives to you now.”
Seaman hesitated. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Brighton. We have detected what we believe is a Sypeurlion retreat and think it wise to press our—”
“Your new objectives should be on display now.”
The smaller missions objectives window floated to the main screens right side, sitting a meter forward. Running down the column was a list of all the remaining Jujari ships.
“I—I’m not sure I understand,” Seaman said.
Brighton’s left eye twitched ever so slightly—enough that Seaman noticed. Either the man was not used to a Commodore talking back and saw this as insubordination, or—Seaman’s thoughts wandered—or Brighton was insecure about the orders himself. Seaman almost felt ashamed for this second conclusion, but he couldn’t avoid his conscience.
“I am ordering you to destroy all the remaining Jujari vessels, Commodore. What don’t you understand about that?”
Seaman swallowed. Destroy all the remaining vessels? “Admiral Brighton, sir, the enemy fleet is withering away as we speak. Meanwhile, we have a chance to engage the allied ships and make a lasting statement.”
“The remaining Jujari ships, Commodore,” Brighton said with a crisp tone.
Seaman hesitated. He didn’t want to jeopardize his newfound command—but this? “You’re—you’re asking me to annihilate a crippled foe on the verge of surrender?”
“There will be no surrender.”
“But you can’t be sure about that. They have little left that threatens—”
“I don’t think you understand what Lord Moldark wishes, Commodore.” Brighton leaned in, and, once again, Seaman felt as if the other man was trying to convince himself of his own words. “Even if the Jujari offer a surrender, it will not be acknowledged.”
“Not be acknowledged?”
Brighton hesitated, seeming to study Seaman’s face. “Is there a problem?”
“With all due respect, sir, this violates the Valdaiga Accords and the Naval Rules of Engagement.”
“And yet you are commanding a Paragon flagship, are you not?”
“I am.”
“And we are charged with the sacred duty of bringing order to chaos, of righting terrible wrongs. And this power has been granted to us by the highest echelons of the Republic, which transcend all previous standards.” Brighton seemed to be gaining confidence as he spoke, now lowering his voice into a more contrite tone. “Commodore Seaman, you have before you the tremendous opportunity to defeat our greatest enemy once and for all. I think it is not a stretch to say that future generations will look back on your actions today and call you a hero.”
Seaman didn’t know what to say to Brighton. All his life, Seaman had been trained to kill on a large scale, setting up battlefields and giving orders. He’d become a master of strategic warfare, adept at commanding forces large and small, as today’s victories illustrated. But with it came a great responsibility, one that recognized the sizable power that lay beneath each touch of a data pad, every press of a button. It was the power to wipe out life, to end uprisings, to destroy ships, and cities, and worlds. With the responsibility came rules—rules that helped keep the power from getting out of control.
But the rules had been removed, and the power was writhing, searching to swallow order, like a Fathroni sand snake slithering just under the desert’s surface. At first, the disturbance in the dune seemed like nothing more than the work of a gentle breeze, but another few seconds and the entire dune became unstable, frothed up into a frenzied sand trap that could swallow a light freighter in seconds. Seaman felt his heartbeat quicken as the sand snake’s body swirled under the ground beneath his feet.
Suddenly, blaster fire struck Solera Fortuna’s front shields. The ship shuddered, snapping Seaman from his thoughts.
“Sir,” DiAntora yelled. “We’re taking heavy fire from a Sypeurlion vessel.”
“Bring us around to bearing 125 mark 240,” Seaman ordered. “Auxiliary power to forward shields, return fire.”
“Commodore,” Brighton said, his voice stern. “What is going on?”
“We are taking fire from a Sypeurlion ship,” Seaman replied, noting the strange hopefulness in his voice. Seaman was about to sign off when the Brighton’s channel cut out. He looked back toward the communications console and saw DiAntora standing over the ensign with her paw pressed firmly on the primary data pane.
“Oops,” she said with a shrug of a shoulder.
1
Magnus adjusted his body in his captain’s chair, assuaging the soreness in his muscles and joints. Nos Kil had given him quite the beating, and Magnus was still mending from both Azelon and TO-96’s surgeries and his new flesh. Still, he had a job to do. And since sleeping was difficult—being plagued by nightmares about Valerie’s death and fears regarding Piper’s whereabouts—Magnus knew there was no better place to be than in the Spire’s bridge addressing his command team.
Awen and Willowood stood arm-in-arm, their puffy eyes evidence that they were still mourning Valerie’s loss and Piper’s disappearance. Abimbola stood beside them, flanked by Berouth and Colonel Caldwell, followed by Titus, Zoll, and Bliss. The Jujari representatives included Rohoar, Saladin, and Czyz, each still wearing their Novian armor chest plates. Ezo and Sootriman leaned on one another while Saasarr looked over their shoulders.
The newest face, of course, was Ricio’s. The man had helped save their lives as they escaped Worru, and he deserved to be here. The other two men who deserved to be here were Flow and Cheeks, but their lingering aversion to Jujari made it impossible for Magnus to allow them in this meeting. He’d fill them in later, but it still pained him not have them by his side.
Magnus opened by greeting everyone and recognizing their unit’s losses—Andocs, Haney, and Valerie. The last o
ne made him catch his breath. He knew he wasn’t the only one either. So he encouraged everyone to take the time they needed to grieve, especially while time was on their side, due to the time dilation in between metaspace and protospace.
Then Magnus turned to the tasks at hand, reminding everyone that they were at war. “The galaxy’s going to splick, and we’re the ones who’ve volunteered to stop it. So, until this thing is over, we all face it the same way—together and with courage.”
Despite forlorn looks on several faces, Magnus knew his team would pull together. They had to. Hell, you have to, Magnus, he reminded himself.
Magnus cleared his throat then looked around the room. “I need a SITREP on our current position in metaspace, as well as points of concern as we look to move forward with…”
With what?
Magnus hadn’t even thought about what was next. Valerie’s death and Piper’s disappearance had so consumed the few waking minutes of his consciousness that he realized he hadn’t planned much past the assault on Worru.
“With stopping Moldark and So-Elku,” Magnus said, finishing the sentence. Those were general terms, of course, but at least they pointed the way forward.
“OTF,” Colonel Caldwell said in reply. Those who knew the Marine expression repeated it back.
“And as we move forward with finding Piper,” Awen suddenly interjected. Hearing those words made Magnus’s heart skip a beat. He thanked Awen silently, grateful that someone else had inserted the mission point in the conversation. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“It’s all good.” Magnus raised a hand to calm her. “Do you have any idea where she is?”
Awen turned to Willowood. The older woman’s shoulders raised and lowered. “I’m afraid not, Magnus. She has concealed herself in ways that even I don’t know how to penetrate. Piper will only be seen when she wants to be seen.”
Magnus ran his tongue along the front of his teeth. His gums were sore from his fight with Nos Kil—the traitor. Magnus recalled the recording of Nos Kil’s conversation with Piper, and the memory of it made Magnus sick to his stomach. He swallowed, willing the bile to stay down, then asked, “Is her location something you can keep working on?”
“Of course,” Awen said. “Granted, it’s harder to search for her from here in metaspace. The closer we are to Worru, the easier we can find her.”
“If she’s still on the planet,” Magnus said.
Awen looked from Magnus to Willowood and back. “What do you mean, still on the planet? You think So-Elku took her somewhere?”
Magnus shook his head. “I reviewed the footage from her conversation with Nos Kil.” Suddenly, Magnus felt the room shift. He guessed that either everyone had already seen the footage or that no one had. “In it, she confessed to having discovered a new ability.”
“Moving things within the Unity,” Awen said, her eyes focused somewhere else.
“Yes. You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Magnus thought back to past conversations with Awen, where she alluded to Piper’s powers. Awen hadn’t been specific, of course, but there’d been something there, something just beneath the surface. Magnus wanted to be mad with her for not telling him sooner, or for her not figuring it out. But he knew the feelings were just his frustrations coming out. The situation was not Awen’s fault. If anything, it was his.
“And do you think that is what she has done?” Abimbola asked. “Has she moved somewhere else?”
“It might explain why we can’t detect her,” Willowood replied. “Though, as Awen said, we are very far away from her. Again, until she wants to be found, I suspect we will search in vain. Still, I will remain vigilant.”
That was not the kind of intel Magnus liked. He wanted something firm, something that would help narrow options and focus on a concise course of action. But with Piper being anywhere in the galaxy—even in metaspace for all they knew—securing Piper was quickly becoming less of an actionable objective than he wanted. Instead, she would be a side goal, one they may or may not ever actualize. And that pissed him off.
“What else do we have?” Magnus asked.
“Piper managed to imprison So-Elku,” Awen said. “But there’s no way to know how long that will last. He’s grown more powerful with the knowledge he gleaned from the codex.”
“And the codex itself?” Magnus said. “Did it survive the…?”
The what? he asked himself. He meant to say something about Piper’s explosion of power but found himself at a loss for words.
“Yes, it survived,” Awen said, sparing Magnus. “And I have possession of the volume. Willowood and I hope to leverage it, with Azelon’s help, to train the Luma in the Novian ways.”
“Good,” Magnus said, reflecting positively on the win. Maybe it will help them find Piper sooner too, he thought. “Any idea what So-Elku’s up to? What he’ll do next?”
Ezo raised a hand. “Can we talk about those corpses coming to life in the catacombs? Because that freaked Ezo right out. Anyone else?”
Several people nodded, including Magnus. He didn’t mind admitting that he’d been rattled, having never seen anything like it. But if So-Elku had power over the dead, who knew what he’d use it for in the future.
“I can speak to that, Ezo.” Willowood took a step forward. “It seems that So-Elku has already leveraged much of what he’s learned from the codex. His study of it began shortly upon returning from an expedition that I now know was to Ithnor Ithelia in metaspace.” Willowood acknowledged Awen in a way that suggested the two had debriefed while Magnus had been recovering.
“So-Elku explained that he’d garnered a new token of power,” Willowood said. “One that would rival anything in the galaxy. He demanded allegiance from those who wished to join him in his ultimate pursuit of peace. But when many asked for clarification, So-Elku became enraged and dismissed the meeting.
“Over the next few days, many of the elders had a chance to formulate objections to So-Elku’s violent pursuit of peace. Conversely, others took the time to redouble their support of So-Elku, perhaps sensing the power he’d acquired. When the council reconvened, the clash between the two factions turned hostile. So-Elku, however, anticipated the confrontation and seized those who opposed him, locking them in the catacombs. I learned of this by those who joined me in the tombs. I had already been placed there following my attempts to help Awen escape.
“As for the living dead that you encountered, I can only guess that So-Elku’s new powers in the Unity—those dealing with the Foundation and the Nexus, of which I am still learning about from Awen—enabled him to reanimate the bodies of the mystics for nefarious purposes. Beyond that, I cannot tell you exactly how he summoned the corpses.”
Awen stepped forward to stand equal with Willowood. “As far as what he’s planning next, we suspect So-Elku will continue with his campaign to rally the Luma to his side and attempt peace by force.”
“And yet he’s the bad guy, and we’re not,” Titus said. The phrase seemed intended for himself, but all eyes turned toward him. “Peace by force. Isn’t that what we’re doing too? Don’t get me wrong, this guy’s a lunatic, and he needs to be stopped. But if we’re talking about the way to restore peace to the galaxy, shouldn’t we at least admit that we’re trying to bring peace by force too?”
“Ezo thinks that’s a load of splick,” the former smuggler said.
But it was Caldwell who raised his hand and insisted that Titus be allowed to continue.
“I’m just saying I think we need to define what makes us different before we go sending more rounds downrange,” Titus said. “’Cause it might just lead to more bloodshed if we don’t.”
“He’s got a point,” Caldwell added. “Not to be too sanctimonious here, but we oughta be clear about what makes our motives different from everyone else’s. If not, we’ll get neck deep in splick faster than a senator caught sleeping with his sister.”
“This is the Jujari way,” Rohoar said suddenly.
<
br /> “Sleeping with your sisters?” Ezo asked. “Explains a lot.”
“No.” Rohoar sneered. “This way of peace by force, this is how we have maintained control over our lands. This the Jujari way.” The giant hyena-like warrior lowered his head. “But surely it is not the Novian way of our ancestors, nor that of the Gladio Umbra.”
“I can affirm this assertion,” Azelon interjected. “Though it is worth noting that creating new peace is not always the same as maintaining existing peace.”
“I’m not following,” Dutch said.
“Peace sought any other way but through peaceful means poisons the root,” Rohoar replied. “But sometimes force is required to spare lives until sustainable peace is achieved, especially in the most hostile of contexts. We Jujari have suffered much from violence with no goal of sustainable peace. Worse still, the poison of ill-won peace still stains our paws.”
Magnus scratched his chin, recognizing just how much the Repub had in common with the Jujari on this point. Pursuing peace through necessary conflict was the only way Magnus knew. The Republic’s military existed to exercise force against those deemed a threat to galactic peace. And while he despised So-Elku, Magnus at least felt that he understood some of what the leader was after—if he was indeed honest about his desires for peace and not the pursuit of some personal oligarchy. If order could not be sought through non-violent means, then it must be secured through conflict. Perhaps the Luma leader had more in common with the Republic than he cared to admit. And that gave Magnus pause for concern.
Magnus had no illusions that the Repub had lost its way after three hundred years. Not entirely, of course. The will of the people would keep such things from happening. At least he hoped it would. But as conflicts became more complex, and backroom deals formed new alliances, which then spurred new threats, Magnus knew corners had been cut. Promises had been broken. And the Repub’s military might had been used in ways that its originators never intended.
Such things were kept from the public, of course. The senate had a way of assuaging the anxieties of the Corps and the populace by downplaying questionable ethics. But now Magnus wondered what kind of navy could allow someone like Admiral Kane to become Moldark without anyone trying to stop him. He wondered about a senate that could commute the life sentence of a monster like Nos Kil so they could use him on their enemies and an unsuspecting child like Piper. And he wondered about a Marine Corps that could turn its back on a decorated veteran and accuse him of treason.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 134