Samurai Guns (Orphan Wars Book 3)

by J. N. Chaney

  “Let’s find shelter for the night,” I say.

  Shaina nods, then pulls a small combination hatchet-hammer from the meager supplies we found in the orphan gate cavern. “Come on, kid. Time to learn a life skill.”

  “I know how to camp,” he says.

  “Good. But now I’ll teach you a better way. The soldier’s way,” she says, and they disappear into the trees.

  “Do you need anything, Murph?” Zedas asks.

  “A hot bath and a hot meal. Boots. Maybe a beer?”

  “I have none of these things,” he says. “Perhaps I could interest you in meditation?”

  “Knock yourself out,” I say, then watch him sit cross-legged with Patty-pats curled up in his lap.

  I spend my time inventorying our meager gear and thinking about what to do next. It’s taken so long to return that I’ve lost my bearing. Jack took the gate ship, betraying me and my friends. The Protheans have arrived, and the Overlords seem to be massing for total war.

  What can I do about either situation? Not a damn thing.

  “What am I doing here, Zedas?”

  He continues to meditate. The cat opens one eye, considers my value to the universe, and apparently finds me lacking. She closes the eye of feline judgment and purrs steadily.

  “What did the gate do to you, Patty-pats?” I ask. “Are you going to change into a sabertooth or start talking?”

  She doesn’t answer. Cats are like that. I’m not sure why I risked my life saving her. The Murphy clan has always been dog people.

  Staring into the night, listening to the not-so-distant sound of Shaina teaching Garin to chop branches for our shelter, I finally face the realization I’ve been avoiding since before the ice world.

  The Dark Eye has something I need, and I have to take it from him.

  Shaina and Garin return with armloads of branches.

  “Shaina says we can make a waterproof lean-to with these,” Garin says. “Cause I think it’s gonna rain hard tonight.”

  “Shelter is a good thing,” I say.

  “Go stack these like I showed you,” Shaina says to Garin. “I need to talk to Murph.”

  “On it.” Garin dives into the job with far more energy than anyone should have after hiking all day.

  “What’s on your mind, Murph?” Shaina asks. “Dark thoughts?”

  “It’s decision time.” I watch Garin, not wanting him to come back in the middle of the conversation but not terribly worried about it either. Our group is too small for a lot of secrets. “Jack really screwed us.”

  Shaina raises an eyebrow, clearly attempting to parse out the idiom.

  “Right before he left us on a sabotaged ship, he shared his plan.”

  “I imagine it wasn’t a good one.”

  I clench and unclench my fists, searching for the calm Zedas has found in meditation. “Peace through strength, he said. The man wants to seize control of the Hadrian Empire and go to war with the Protheans.”

  “Why would he do that? I always suspected he wanted to be the number one Overlord, but why provoke the Protheans?” she asks. “And why continue this civil war with a greater enemy at the gates?”

  “Ego.” There’s more, of course. “And domination.”

  “I don’t understand?” She glances at Garin, starts to correct something he’s doing, but decides he’s fine.

  “That is how a tyrant stays in control. As long as there is a terrible enemy to unite against, he can keep absolute power,” I say.

  Color drains from Shaina’s face. “When you say it like that, I understand, and I think he’s already won.”

  “We can beat him, but not by ourselves. All this time, we’ve been fighting to get back to Tamondran. I barely stopped to ask myself why.”

  She laughs darkly. “Staying alive took most of our attention.”

  “Exactly. Just like Jack wanted. But he underestimated our determination. His plan was for us to be stuck in the Midas system for a year or longer,” I say. “He doesn’t know we’re here. All we need are allies and a plan.”

  “Sounds easy,” Shaina laughs. “Let’s get started! Come on, Murph. Anyone who could have stopped the Dark Eye would have done it a long time ago.”

  “I know him better than Tamok or any of the others,” I say. “So let’s find Tamok and get the gate ship back. Jack wanted me exiled for a reason.”

  “What reason?” Zedas asks.

  “He knows I can beat him. I’m a threat because I understand how he thinks,” I say.

  “Good,” Shaina says. “I think we can reach the Tamondran base tomorrow if we’re not washed off the side of this mountain by a flash flood. And our feet don’t fall off.”

  24

  Rain pounds our shelter all night. Lightning flashes across the sky. From time to time, illuminating Prothean ships searching high and low. Flashbacks to the ice planet keep me awake, but I don’t see anything from the Overlords or the resistance.

  Water rushes down the mountain slope, leaking under the bottom of the lean-to, waking everyone up for the tenth time.

  “I hate sleeping on the ground,” Shaina says. “This feels like our indoctrination training.”

  “We called it basic, and everyone dreaded it.” I press on the bottom edge of the structure, hoping to keep the water out. The trick works at first, but the rain pours harder.

  “At least we’re dry,” Garin says, then slaps his palm on the water pooling between us.

  I splash him back.

  Shaina joins in, and we have a regular water war.

  Zedas holds Patty-pats in both hands, shielding her from the flying droplets, watching the back and forth action with concern and not a great deal of understanding. “This seems pointless.”

  “Relax, big guy,” Shaina says. “We’re already soaked.”

  “This small furry creature does not seem to like getting wet,” Zedas says.

  “Sorry, Pats.” I use a small dry section of my shirt to dry the cat. Her feelings on the matter are clear. Her wide-eyed meows sound like protest combined with a lecture.

  Zedas takes her back. “You must learn to be a better cat dad, Doctor Hank Murphy.”

  “I’m working on it. The care and feeding of stray cats wasn’t a course offered during my doctoral program.”

  A fresh deluge hits the outside of our shelter, forcing it to slide several inches.

  “Not good.” I lean out and see water flowing down every part of the slope.

  “This was the driest spot we could find,” Shaina says. “Gather your gear. Make sure you have everything, then wrap it up as tight as you can. We’ll dry our clothing later.”

  I take my shabby pack, more of a sack than anything military issued, and roll it and its contents into a log of fabric, then tie it with the drawstrings. The bundle hangs neatly over my back. We huddle together in the center of the little shelter. Despite our antics, the rainwater is cold, and my companions are feeling it.

  “You’re not affected at all,” Shaina accuses.

  I shake my head. “It’s good to be an Orphan, I guess.”

  Time crawls with nothing to distract us. Patty-pats swats me in the face with her tail. I search for her on Zedas’s shoulder but don’t see her—until one of her eyes opens, appearing to float in the air between me and the Dogan.

  “What the—” I flinch away, fall in the pooling water, and scramble upright.

  Zedas, Shaina, and Garin stare at me like I’m crazy.

  “There was a cat eye, right there!”

  Everyone looks at Patty-pats sitting on Zedas’s shoulder.

  “Cat eyes are generally connected to cats,” Shaina says, picking up the animal and petting her.

  “No, you don’t get it. All I could see was her eye—one eye like she winked at me,” I say.

  “You’re losing it, Mr. Murph,” Garin says. “Maybe you should get some sleep.” He splashes water at me.

  “Hah, hah.” I peek outside, but it’s still raining hard. As miserable as o
ur situation is, suffering the monsoon-like rain would be worse without some shelter.

  Patty-pats stares me down, and I swear she’s smiling.

  I point at her. “Wag your tail, cat. I’m onto you.”

  “You act like she turned invisible or something,” Garin says.

  “None of you were looking at her when she winked at me,” I say.

  “Right,” Shaina says, clearly skeptical.

  “All of you, just wait.” I rejoin the huddle. It’s the driest spot in the lean-to. The cold doesn’t bother me, but I am tired of being wet. “I’ll expect some apologies when you see what she can do.”

  “How could she turn invisible?” Garin asks.

  “She came through the gate just like the rest of us,” I say.

  Garin rolls his eyes. “I can’t turn invisible.” He faces Shaina. “Can you turn invisible?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about you, Zedas?” Garin asks.

  “I cannot. Though it would be a tactical advantage in every situation imaginable,” he says.

  Patty-pats licks a paw, totally innocent of wrongdoing.

  I scratch her behind the ears, hoping to show her there are no hard feelings. “How could I be angry with you?”

  She swipes her tail, unconcerned with answering. One by one, my companions lie down and sleep despite the constant trickle of water running through our shelter. I squat next to them and pet the cat. Neither of us need to sleep, apparently.

  When the second dawn arrives, it feels like the aftermath of a battle without all the dead bodies. None of my companions look rested. This was the wrong kind of waterbed, apparently.

  “Rise and shine,” I say. “Come on, lazy bones. We’ve got places to be and people to see.”

  “I’m up, I’m up.” Garin shivers and yawns at the same time. “My feet hurt. Do we have to walk today?”

  “Think positive, kid.” I slug him in the shoulder. We need to get moving or start a fire to warm them up. “You won’t be weighed down by shoes.”

  Shaina crawls out of the lean-to and checks her meager collection of gear. The inner contents are drier than seems possible due to the way we rolled up the packs and kept them off the ground. She sets off to inspect our perimeter. Zedas shoos the cat out, then follows.

  “This is a good day,” he says.

  I fist-bump him. “Did you see any invisible felines this morning?”

  “I did not,” he says. “And I don’t expect I will—especially if they remain invisible.”

  Everyone takes care of their necessaries and eats some fruit we gathered the previous day. And then we’re off.

  The ascent is tough, but once we crest the main escarpment, it’s downhill all the way to the base. Birds call out from their perches. Apparently, it isn’t time to take wing.

  We look out over the next valley, and my heart sinks. Tamondran base is a smoking ruin. A dozen buildings smolder. Others are gone, little more than craters in the ground. I quickly check the blast doors to the underground bunker and see them lying in the parade field, torn off their hinges.

  “I don’t think we’re going to find Tamok today,” Shaina says.

  “Let’s stay in the trees as much as possible on the way down,” I say. “I want to look for clues of what happened and scavenge for supplies. The branches will give us something to grab if the trail has been washed away by last night’s rain.”

  “The resistance got wiped out by the Protheans, is what happened,” Garin says. “I hope people got away. And I didn’t have a lot of friends back home, but I hope my village was evacuated too.”

  “The Protheans may not have attacked your village. This was a military target with strategic and tactical value,” I say.

  Garin doesn’t argue, but neither does he look convinced.

  We make our descent. Evening is approaching by the time we arrive at the bunker. The birds are out, but none of them come close to the base. The smell of charred flesh is stronger here, but I don’t see any bodies. Tamok Sky, or whoever is in charge now, took care of their dead before starting the exodus.

  “I suggest we leave Zedas to keep watch while you and I search for weapons and supplies inside the bunker,” Shaina says.

  I nod, and we get started. Garin stays outside with Zedas and Patty-pats without being asked.

  “Stay together, or split up to cover more ground?” Shaina’s expression suggests either option is fine with her.

  I think it over and decide we should split up. I don’t feel a threat. Does that mean this place is safe? Probably not. So like a teenage couple in every single bad movie, we each pick a room and start searching.

  I find waterproof tarps and some rope, and think I can make a better tent than the lean-to from the night before. For the next hour, I do little more than get my hopes up, only to be disappointed. Someone scoured this place for anything useful before they fled.

  Shaina and I meet up. “Anything?” I ask.

  She holds up a hammer. “This might be useful. I already have a combination hammer and ax, but I’m thinking I might sacrifice this one.”

  “Tell me more,” I say and follow her into another room.

  “There are several lockers that are still secured,” she says. “I can break them open, I think, but I didn’t want to make a lot of racket without telling you first. I might have to break the hammer. These locks are stout. Watch my back.”

  I position myself near the exit. Shaina starts beating the hell out of some padlocks, eventually smashing them apart. She begins her search immediately.

  “Boots. Cold weather gear. Not super useful this time of year, but let’s see what’s down here.” She digs out a box full of sentimental items, examines the contents, and puts it back where she found it.

  The next two lockers produce a few ration bars, two more pairs of boots, personal items, and a comm device with no charge. We gather the meager loot and head outside.

  Zedas stares toward the east, a crew-served machine-gun resting on his shoulder. The weapon has a charge box on each side of the firing assembly and a chain of ammunition wrapped around his left arm.

  “Where did you find that?” Shaina demands.

  “There was an upside-down vehicle. I turned it over,” he says, voice neutral. “None of you are strong enough to carry it or fire it without help.”

  “True,” Shaina says. “But wow, that’s a big change from your flail and sword.”

  “I will continue to use them when my enemies venture near,” he says. “I saw a reflection in that direction.” He points to the east. “Possibly from a vehicle windshield.”

  I shade my eyes and peer into the wilderness. “Don’t see it.”

  “I suspect it continues to move and is now well out of view,” Zedas says.

  “I saw it too,” Garin says. He looks skeptically at the boots Shaina hands him, then puts them on. I sit and do the same.

  “Good thing we found three pairs.” Shaina lifts one foot to examine her work. “Perfect fit.”

  Garin and I glare at her. The kid’s new footwear looks like clown boots. Mine look like I’m wearing… well, they look like I’m wearing Shaina’s combat boots.

  She laughs as I discard mine and Garin stomps around, making goofy sounds.

  I tell myself my feet are getting used to this and ignore the scrapes, cuts, and blisters. “Let’s get moving. Shaina on point. Zedas, bring up the rear guard.” I search for Patty-pats, hoping to catch her in the middle of her hijinks and prove to my companions that the animal can go invisible at will—which leads me to question my conclusion. Just because she was invisible doesn’t mean she can control the post Orphan Gate mutation.

  My skepticism is irrelevant because she just looks like a very content, very devious animal perched on Garin’s shoulder.

  “I’m watching you, cat,” I say. “And you too, kid.”

  “Imagine the trouble I could get into if I could turn invisible.” He emphasizes the last word.

  Call me crazy
, but I think the kid is skeptical. “I’d rather not think about any such thing. How do you feel?”

  “Taller,” he says with a laugh and a nod toward Zedas.

  “That is a figure of speech among my people,” Zedas says.

  “I know, big guy.” Garin hands him the cat. “I pay attention. Have to when you’re an outcast like me. Important to keep a good sense of humor too.”

  “You are correct, Garin of Tamondran Village,” Zedas says. “But perhaps you will grow taller and become an adult.”

  “That’s the plan. See if you can get Patty to turn invisible like Mr. Murphy says.”

  “Doctor Hank Murphy,” Zedas corrects him. “That is the more proper form of address.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. Just keep your eyes open.” I motion for them to keep up and follow Shaina. She makes good time, stopping each time the trail changes course or enters a danger area—like a clearing or river crossing. We continue until midday and eat from our meager food supply.

  “I bet when we find Tamok’s army, they will have a lot of food,” Garin says. “Maybe even some cookies and pie.”

  Sitting down feels good. I’m tempted to lie on the grass for a power nap even though my sleep needs are minimal these days. A good soldier rests when he can, not when he needs it. Zedas meditates. Shaina spends her free time checking our perimeter and planning the next leg of our hike.

  I stare at the sky and count the ghostlike shapes of ships moving in the upper atmosphere. Just when we are about to move, I see the space battle.

  Only a few of the ships are visible from the surface of the planet. I know this because I see missiles streaking toward ships with no apparent point of origin, which I assume came from a ship farther from the planet, well beyond the atmosphere.

  “Shaina, is that normal to fight this close to Sarsten’s gravity well?” I ask.

  She nods. “It’s common because most void battles are for control of a planet or planetoid.”

  Large Prothean ships disgorge smaller, more compact fighters and bombers that race toward Hadrian style ships. “I would watch this all day if we had time. Let’s get to the coast and find what’s left of the resistance.” I take the lead this time, mapping the area in my head in case I need to come this way in the future.