Caldwell eyed the bottle. “You do know you’re not gonna pass inspection tomorrow morning, right?”
Forbes shot the liquid and sucked air through his teeth. “Something tells me I won’t be doing PT in the morning, colonel.”
That was the first thing Forbes said that gave Magnus any indication of what he was feeling. And unless Forbes meant he would die trying to keep the two intruders from leaving his home alive, the phrase boded well. At least he hoped so—Caldwell still had to answer the question.
“That was us fighting against the two companies, yes,” the Colonel replied.
Forbes put his glass down. “Mystics, Colonel. You know how many of our men you killed? My men?”
“The colonel didn’t kill a single one,” Magnus said. Both heads turned to look at Magnus.
“And how’s that?” Forbes asked.
“He was the one using non-lethal force. Wish I’d thought of it first.”
“Well, isn’t that rainbows and avacots. You coulda told that to the rest of your team.”
Magnus sighed. “If that would’ve gotten us out of there without casualties, I would have.”
“You sure about that, Lieutenant? ’Cause it sure as hell seems like you had a lot of fun with your fancy guns and armor there.” Forbes nodded at the NOV1 and helmet on the table.
Magnus sat back. He wasn’t going to win this argument by force of will. Hell, there wasn’t an argument to win. And wasn’t that the problem with fighting? War was making the best of a thousand horrible situations gone sideways with lives on the line and little to no time to think it through. “I’m sorry.”
Forbes face filled with the coldness of a CO who’d needlessly lost Marines. “You’re sorry.”
Magnus nodded, looking at the bratch in his glass. “What happened back there? Those are the kinds of moments that never leave you—the kind that haunt your sleep until the day you die. And part of me will never be able to forgive myself for it. And so, for them, and for your loss, I’m deeply sorry.
“The other part of me, though? The part that had to get my people to safety, that decided to keep evil people from murdering the innocent? That part isn’t sorry at all. Because that’s the mission. Your Marines and my gladia? They signed up to die. But the people that Luma bastard put down? And the innocent lives Moldark wants to take out? They haven’t signed up to die. So I’m going to do whatever it takes to fight for them and complete the mission.”
Forbes seemed to consider Magnus’s words for a while, then asked, “What about the company of marines that got wiped out? We cleaned up a lot of boys in that docking bay.”
“Now that—that was different,” Magnus said.
“That was a little girl,” Caldwell replied.
Forbes looked like he was about to choke on the liquor. “You wanna run that by me again?”
“It was a child named Piper,” Magnus said, sparing the colonel the reply. Magnus gave the captain a summarized version of Piper’s background, leading up to her energy explosion in the bay.
“And you’re saying she’s been missing ever since?” Forbes asked.
Magnus nodded, swirling the last of the amber liquid in his glass. “We have reason to believe she’s still here on Worru. Got some teammates checking on that now.”
Caldwell finished the last of his drink and looked at Forbes. “Well, cappy? What’ll it be?”
Forbes thought for a moment and looked up from his empty glass. “It’s crazy. All of it. I think you’re both out of your mysticsdamned minds. And even if I believed it all, there’s no way I could communicate it with two companies of Marines and still mobilize them on such a short timeline. They wouldn’t believe it. Hell, I hardly believe it.” Forbes studied Caldwell’s face before taking a deep breath. “But I don’t have to believe the whole story. I just need to believe you, Colonel.”
Magnus couldn’t read Forbes at all. Just when Magnus thought the captain was going one way, the man juked. So until Forbes came around and said it straight, Magnus couldn’t be sure. Talking to this man was like talking to a blasted politician.
“I don’t like what happened to my men back there. And I’m not getting over that quickly. Don’t know that I ever will. Like you said, Magnus, some things just haunt you into hell.” Forbes paused, then looked at the colonel. “I once told you that I’d follow you to hell and back. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I guess I didn’t plan on hell looking so damn strange.”
“So you’re in?” Magnus asked, unable to support the suspense any longer.
“Hell, yes,” Forbes replied. “Bastards wanna screw around with power at other people’s expense? You can bet I’m going to help you land a fistful of hurt on them.”
Magnus offered up his hand, elbow on the table.
Forbes clasped it. “OTF.”
“OTF,” Magnus replied, the old mantra coming to his lips faster than he would have liked. “Now I say Dominate, and you say Liberate.”
Forbes cocked an eyebrow but didn’t seem opposed to the idea.
“Dominate,” Magnus said, holding the man’s unblinking eyes.
“Liberate.” Forbes released Magnus’s hand. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“So how are we getting two companies off this planet without raising suspicions?” Magnus asked.
“Easier than you’d think,” Forbes answered. “Command still hasn’t assigned a new battalion commander, and with all the recovery operations still underway, ships have been coming and going faster than Plumeria’s space traffic control can track.”
“So you’re in charge?” Caldwell asked.
Forbes nodded. “First few hours I’ve had to myself in four days. ’Til you showed up and ruined it. And by the sounds of it, I won’t have any more peace and quiet for quite a while.” Forbes capped the bottle and slid it away. “But who needs peace and quiet anyway?
“I’ve got two rifle companies and a support company under my command, along with a few attachments from other battalions, including some navy jockeys.”
“We could use them too,” Magnus said. “But what about ships?”
“I’ve got ships coming out my ass,” Forbes said with a chuckle. “Seems the whole sector is interested in what you all did here. Guess you might say that’s how I know.”
“That we’re telling the truth?” Magnus asked.
“That what you’re doing is important and that you’re going to need all the support you can get. Two Alvera-class transports will get everyone off-planet. Give me three hours?”
“You’ve got two,” Caldwell said.
Magnus pushed the bottle back toward Forbes. “And I’d say bring the bratch. You might want it before this is all over.”
Suddenly, an alert chimed from Magnus’s helmet. He met the colonel’s eyes for a split second before transferring the comm alert to his bioteknia eyes with the audio ported through bone induction. “Go for Magnus.”
An image of Awen appeared in his vision. By the looks of it, she was still in the shuttle, which was a good thing. “Magnus, I think we found her.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Where? Here?”
Awen nodded. “We’re pretty sure she’s in the Grand Arielina.”
“The Grand—you’re kidding me.”
“I wish I was.”
“You think he’s captured her?”
“I don’t know what I think. But that’s not the worst of it. Azelon said eight Paragon warships just jumped into the system.”
Caldwell nodded at Magnus. “What’s wrong, son?”
“We’ve got company.”
“Magnus,” Awen said, regaining his attention. “You know what this means?”
“We’re not gonna have time to look for her.” He could already see the tears welling in her eyes. “We’ll come back. We’ll get her.”
Awen didn’t reply. Willowood appeared beside Awen and put an arm around her. “It’s not the time, child,” the older woman said. “But it will come.”
“We�
�re almost done here,” Magnus said.
“And?” Willowood asked.
“And it looks like Azelon better make room for a few more guests on the Spire. Tell Nolan to warm up the shuttle.”
“Will do,” Awen replied.
Magnus terminated the call and looked at Forbes. “Timeline just bumped up, Captain. You’ve got an hour.” Forbes looked like he was about to reply when a chime rang at the front door. “You expecting someone?”
Based on the look Forbes gave them both, the answer was no. “You?” Forbes asked in reply.
“It’s too late for dinner and too early for breakfast,” Magnus said.
“But never too late to whoop ass,” Caldwell added as he pulled his V from its holster and racked a charge.
5
“You smell that, ’Six?” Ezo asked as he rubbed his hands across the top of his captain’s chair in Geronimo Nine. The heavily modified Katana-class light freighter sat inside the Spire, occupying a large hangar bay beside a long line of Novia Fangs.
“Iron oxide and cleaning astringents, sir,” the bot replied with a nod. “Yes, I am detecting those.”
“No. The smell of home.”
TO-96 turned. Ezo knew if the bot could have expressed a puzzled look, he would have. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that smell, sir.”
“It’s a metaphor, ’Six.” Ezo sniffed the leather seat back and moved around to sit down. His body made the chair squeak, and then he reached for the flight yoke. “Mystics, it feels good to be back.”
“It feels exactly as it did before,” TO-96 remarked as he sat in the co-pilot chair. “I am beginning to think that you’re suffering the effects of nostalgia, sir.”
“You could say that.”
“Will you smell me with such fondness when my structural composition degrades?”
Ezo glanced as his co-pilot. “Smell you?”
“Yes. If I project the odors of iron oxide and cleaning astringents, will you make a metaphor about me?”
Ezo chuckled. “Sure, ’Six.”
“And what will the metaphor be?”
“I suppose that all depends.” Ezo’s fingers danced over several instrument panels, summoning the ship from slumber.
“On what, sir?”
“On how I feel about you when you’re a derelict.”
“I see. I trust I will be a satisfactory derelict worthy of a nostalgic metaphor.”
“Don’t we all.” Ezo brought the ship’s systems online one by one. “Are you gonna help me run the pre-flight check, or are you just gonna sit there and pine about your obituary?”
“I hope you compare me to a warm beach,” TO-96 said, assisting Ezo with the startup sequence and pre-flight checklist.
Ezo passed and looked sideways. “A warm beach?”
“My first records with you are in Caledonia. If you said that Geronimo Nine reminds you of home, then that is the home I wish to be remembered by.”
Ezo swiped holo-screens left and right, ordering them to compliment his field of view out the cockpit window. “You know, ’Six, you can be surprisingly sentimental.”
“Is that a desired trait to have in a companion?”
“You could say that. Just don’t go overboard with it.”
“Like smelling the seats of your starship, sir?”
Ezo glared at his bot. “Stay focused on pre-flight.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“What’s this about beaches?” Sootriman asked as she walked onto the ship’s bridge.
“I wish to be remembered as a beach,” TO-96 said before Ezo could respond.
Sootriman’s eyebrows went up. “Is that so.”
“It’s a long story,” Ezo said.
“On the contrary,” the bot replied. “The dialogue transpired over a matter of—”
“It’s a long story, and we don’t have the time for it.” Ezo looked back at Sootriman. “You and Saasarr ready to shove off?”
“The gear is stowed, and we’re ready to go.”
“Great.” Ezo activated the ramp closing sequence and began transferring all systems to internal power, disconnecting from the Spire’s infrastructure. “’Six, what do we need from Azelon to get out of here?”
“Nothing, Ezo,” Azelon said from speakers in the console.
Ezo sat back in surprise and patted his thighs. “Ezo keeps forgetting you seem to be everywhere at once.”
“It is a characteristic all humanoids from your universe seem to forget. In any case, I am opening your bay’s blast doors now.”
Ezo’s heart skipped a beat as the thin crack on the hangar bay’s doors appeared through the cockpit’s window, revealing the void’s starry expanse. The thrill of open space, of destinations unknown, always invigorated him. And now that he was back behind Geronimo’s helm, the galaxy was at his disposal. Well—almost. They had a job to do first. But he wondered how much longer this conflict would last before he could get back to his life of roaming the galaxy. Alone.
No, not alone, Ezo corrected himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Sootriman. He had her to think about now.
As if prompted by his inner thoughts, Sootriman placed her hand on his shoulder. They’d been through so much together. And after almost losing her—twice—Ezo couldn’t imagine being without her. Then again, she’d never liked the starfaring lifestyle. She’d barely been able to leave her family behind on Caledonia. But she did, to be with him. And maybe she’d be willing to do that again. To leave Ki Nar Four and venture off into the outer reaches of the galaxy. When this is all over, Ezo reminded himself. Gotta survive it first.
“Atmospheric force field is at 100% and holding,” Azelon said. “You are clear for departure.”
“Roger that, Azelon,” Ezo replied. “Take us out, ’Six. Nice and slow.”
“Affirmative.” TO-96 activated Geronimo’s vertical thrusters, and Ezo’s stomach fluttered. The ship rumbled as the landing gear retracted, locking in place within the hull. Then, as smoothly as a dancer entering stage-right, TO-96 moved the ship through the force field and into the vacuum of space.
“Safe travels, Ezo,” Azelon said. “We’re awaiting your safe return.”
“And we await safely returning to you,” TO-96 replied.
Ezo looked at his bot. “I don't know what is with you two, ’Six.” Then, back to Azelon, he said, “We'll see you soon, Spire. Ezo out.”
* * *
The trip to Ki Nar Four took one day via subspace. It would have been faster had Ezo taken one of Azelon’s shuttles equipped with the Novian equivalent of a subspace modulator on it. But the slower speed was worth showing up in Geronimo Nine. In fact, they had to or else risk blowing the whole point of coming this way, which was to recruit reliable people for the Gladio Umbra.
Sootriman did not want to tip their hand too soon regarding the nature of the mission volunteers would be asked to join. One look at a Novian ship, and everyone would see credit symbols and fat accounts. Trying to keep those kinds of leeches happy would be an uphill battle, especially when they learned they weren’t being paid.
No, what the team needed were those who saw the big picture, those who realized that the galaxy was going to splick, as Magnus had started saying, and would risk their lives to keep it from happening. The reward, for those on Sootriman’s planet, was staying alive to rip someone off another day. Therefore, showing up in Geronimo Nine meant the queen was back in town, so everyone had better straighten up. Plus, Sootriman had some very particular people she wanted to recruit, but that was all she would say.
Ezo brought the ship into a docking bay reserved for Sootriman and powered down everything but life-support and drive core subroutines. He wanted to be able to move fast if the need arose.
“What’s the plan?” Ezo asked as he, Sootriman, TO-96, and Saasarr readied themselves in the main cargo hold. They’d traded their Novian armor for more normal garments that Azelon had helped manufacture—all but TO-96. He couldn’t exactly swap out the telecolos
emulation compound on his plating. Instead, Ezo gave him a cloak to cover up the expensive looking patina.
Saasarr recovered most of his Reptalon armor but wore a new black bodysuit, courtesy of Azelon. The garment’s woven fibers were said to be stronger than Saasarr’s original and needed to be laundered less frequently too—always a plus for a Reptalon.
Sootriman donned a luxurious red dress that she’d designed with Azelon. The open back closed at the small of her back, and gave way to a wide train that expanded outward to sweep the floor. Meanwhile, her ample cleavage and the front of her long legs were on display for all to see—few allusions to her well-endowed figure left to the imagination.
For his part, Ezo had requested his old floor-length leather coat back but agreed to a new thick-collared knit shirt and black cargo pants and boots. He holstered his Novian V pistol on his right hip and his Supra 945 on a shoulder holster under his left armpit. “Stay in the shadows and keep out of sight?” Ezo asked Sootriman.
Sootriman shook her head from beneath a white travel cloak that she fastened around her neck. “I need a show.”
“A show?” Saasarr repeated.
“I want everyone knowing that I’ve survived Moldark’s attack on me and my inner circle. I want the city to know I’m untouchable.”
“But Sootriman, you’re not,” TO-96 said. Saasarr hissed at the bot.
“Saasarr, that’s enough.” Sootriman raised a hand at the Reptalon, then turned to TO-96. “I know that, and you know that. But they don’t need to know that.”
“A display of defiance,” the bot said, beginning to surmise the woman’s intent. “To bolster your image among the common folk.”
“Common folk?” Ezo asked.
“Piper gave me some suggested reading, volumes which were not previously in my database.”
“Let me guess,” Ezo said. “Fantasy?”
“I believe that is the colloquial category, yes.”
Sootriman smiled. “It’s less about bolstering my image and more about good marketing, Tee-Oh. But that’s the basic idea.”
“Might I be allowed to lead the way then?” TO-96 asked. “A queen deserves a herald.”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 138