Ruins of the Galaxy

by J. N. Chaney

  Caldwell took a deep breath. “That’s what the intel coming out of the system suggests. I’m sorry, son. Granted, we have only visual and thermal scans at this point, but they’re not picking up any non-Jujari movement from the mwadim’s tower.”

  “Any word of a search-and-rescue team going in?”

  “I’m afraid not. Orbital bombardment is being considered, but right now, there’s a multi-fleet standoff.”

  Magnus’s eyes snapped to Caldwell’s. “Did you say a multi-fleet standoff?”

  “Republic and Jujari-allied ships are jumping into the system. Second Fleet has joined Third, and there’s even talk that First will be called up from Capriana Prime if the Jujari continue to amass ships.”

  “But, sir,” Magnus said with squinted eyes, “you’re talking over half of the Republic’s warships.”

  “So you understand how big this is.”

  “But that’s… that’s…” It was even worse than he’d projected to Awen.

  “It means the Republic is looking at a doomsday scenario. It’s beyond conceivable, maybe even suicidal. I agree.” Then the colonel turned thoughtful again. “Maybe we’re finally paying the price for turning the helm over to bureaucrats and not warriors.”

  “Says the man who’s put up shop with the Luma.” Magnus suddenly remembered his place. “I’m sorry, Colonel. That was out of line.”

  “I said bureaucrats, not mystics,” Caldwell replied, waving Magnus off. “The way I see it, the only way back from this is with something we haven’t tried.”

  Magnus wanted to argue that they had tried it the Luma’s way… and it had cost lives.

  “The truth is,” Caldwell continued, “we may not get the chance to try anything at all. Granted, no one’s fired the first shot yet. But if you ask me, we’re sitting on a good old-fashioned powder keg.”

  Both men stared at the floor, lost in thought. Finally, Caldwell said, “I’m sorry about your platoon, Magnus. It’s times like this when I wish I hadn’t given you and your boys a shot at RIP.” Caldwell took a drag on his cigar. “I know it must bring up memories of Caledonia. I’m sorry, son.”

  Magnus pursed his lips. He didn’t know what to say. Admitting that the colonel was right would give the demon ground, and he didn’t want to concede more than he had already. But denying Caldwell meant lying to himself, and he was tired of that. Either way, I’m screwed and inviting the demon a little closer.

  “Thank you, Colonel. I’ll be okay.”

  “Will you, though? I suppose the pain is what makes us who we are. It’s what makes or breaks all of us who’ve worn that armor. It’s what made your grandfather great.”

  “Copy that.” Magnus nodded, meeting the colonel’s eye. “What are my orders, then, sir?”

  “As much as I wish you could stay, you’re heading back to Oorajee. Brigadier General Lovell’s orders. But I see that you need medical attention.”

  “Nothing shipboard sick bay can’t attend to.”

  Caldwell raised an eyebrow as he surveyed Magnus’s armor. “I know the Mark VII can take a beating, but you gave it a run for its credits, son. You sure you don’t want to visit the infirmary?”

  “Let me get back to my unit, sir.” Magnus realized his error. His unit was most likely gone. “My battalion.”

  “There’s a Sparrow leaving in five.”

  “I’ll be ready in four.” Just have to work out an issue with my bladders. He looked at his thigh. He could almost hear Awen laughing at him.

  “One more thing,” Caldwell said as they stood. “With most units on their way to Oorajee already, your shuttle crew is made up of a corporal escorting two PFCs back to the front lines, piloted by a navy chief warrant officer and an NCO. So, play nice.”

  “Fabulous.”

  “We’ve received a distress transmission from a light civilian cruiser in the Kar-Kadesh system,” Caldwell said in the holo-vid. “Night Wing class.”

  Magnus let out a short whistle. “Someone’s got nice taste, Colonel.”

  “That’s because it belongs to a senator.”

  “A senator? If you don’t mind me asking, what’s a senator doing all the way out there?”

  “We’d like to know the same thing,” the colonel replied. “Seems it was a last-minute flight. But the order, flight log, and manifest all cleared. Our guess is they dropped out of subspace due to a drive-core failure.”

  “So you want me to check it out,” Magnus said with no attempt to veil his lack of enthusiasm.

  “That’s correct. As much as I want you back with your company, you’re our closest asset. Investigate, lend aid, and if your crew can’t get them on their way, transport them to the closest sector station.”

  Magnus rubbed his face. “I’m not questioning your judgment here, Colonel, but there’s got to be—”

  “Lieutenant, I don’t think you understand what’s happening over Oorajee. We can’t spare anyone, and this order comes at the personal request of Brigadier General Lovell himself. It has a need-to-know designation, and apparently, the general doesn’t trust anyone else. Once he heard you were topside, he contacted me directly. I don’t think I need to explain the uniqueness of that to you.”

  “No, Colonel, you don’t.”

  “Good. It seems this senator”—Caldwell looked off-screen at a data pad—“Senator Stone has two family members and a small crew on board as well. Sending you the roster now. Make sure they’re okay, get them on their way, and then get to the front.”

  “Copy that, Colonel.” Magnus glanced down at the dashboard, eyes unfocused on the myriad of blinking lights, their colors blending together in a kaleidoscope of shapes. All he really wanted was to be back with the Recon, prepping for whatever ground assault the fleet commander had in mind. Instead, he was going on a mission that he knew was a distraction, and he felt powerless to do anything about it.

  “Colonel, if you would just hear me out—”

  “Magnus, please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

  “They’re my men, sir. What would you do in a situation like this?”

  Caldwell sighed. “I’d be wondering why my CO was ordering my ass to some no-good senator’s busted-up party barge when I should be looking for my brothers in hostile territory.”

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  “However, Lieutenant,” Caldwell said, emphasizing Magnus’s rank as if to remind him of his duty, “your orders stand.”

  Magnus worked his jaw. If the holo-vid had been steel, his eyes would have burned crimson holes right through it. He turned his head away and swallowed. This was the difference between Recon and civilians. Civilians faced hard choices, but Recon were paid to wrestle hard choices to the ground and slit their throats.

  He looked back at the colonel and replied in a smooth, even tone, “Yes, sir.”

  Magnus closed the connection and rocked back in the comm officer’s chair, rubbing his face. He knew the mission was a total waste of time, and if anything embodied Colonel Caldwell’s suspicions that the Republic was going soft, this was it. The fact was, the Marines were attending to bureaucrats when they should have been saving those who were saving everyone else. The Republic was eroding. No, it had been eroding for a long time. They should never have been on Oorajee, and Magnus shouldn’t be going to—Where is it again?—Kar-Kadesh.

  “You got all that?” he asked the pilot.

  “Laying in a course for the cruiser now, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll ready a boarding party.”

  “We’re ready to go, Lieutenant!” came an excited voice from the bridge’s entrance. Two PFCs stood at attention, eyes locked straight ahead.

  Magnus raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. “You most certainly are, Privates. You most certainly are.”

  18

  Piper clutched Talisman in her arms as she fell asleep in her stateroom aboard Destiny’s Carriage. Her fingers had been treated in sick bay earlier that day and were healed within the hour. She tried
to explain the dream to her mother—tried to explain that she had really been falling within the mountain—but Valerie insisted that Piper had scuffed her fingertips on the wall. No matter how hard Piper tried to argue, her mother found one excuse or another to explain it away.

  Now Piper dreamed again, only this time, she was in her home on Capriana Prime. She was back in her bedroom, Talisman in one hand, her holo-pad in the other. Warm sunlight tapped on her bedroom window like a next-door neighbor asking her to come out and play. She smiled at the sun and swiped open her door, only to discover that she was alone in the apartment. She didn’t remember her parents saying they’d be gone.

  Despite explicit instructions to the contrary, Piper decided to venture outside by herself. Well, I do have Talisman. He’ll protect me. She opened the front door and walked onto the veranda, the sunlight playing peekaboo through serpentine arches overhead. The rays of sunlight kissed her face and dispelled any sense that this was a dangerous thing to do. She took in a deep breath of the lavender flowers that grew beside the apartment’s front door, then she walked toward the fountain. Beyond it lay the elevator, which invited her down.

  Ground floor. I should go to the ground floor. To venture so far away from her family’s apartment was wrong, though. She was never allowed to do that without supervision. One of her security guards was always beside her when she went outside. Still, in her dream, it seemed all right. Plus, there weren’t any other people around that she could see, and she still had Talisman.

  Piper called the elevator to her floor. The translucent blue doors slid apart, and the glass bubble invited her inside. The city’s buildings glistened like jewels against the backdrop of the great ocean, which was a shimmering blue carpet that stretched to the horizon. Everything is so perfect, she thought. Just the way it ought to be.

  Piper felt like a storybook fairy floating over the city as the pod descended one hundred flights to ground level. She had never been afraid of heights. If anything, her mother had to keep her from getting too close to edges for fear that her “impetuous daughter might take to the sky like a falcon.” Piper didn’t know what the word impetuous meant, but if it was wanting to jump into the air and fly like a bird, then she agreed.

  The elevator chimed, and the doors parted. Piper stepped into the lobby and noticed that everything was in perfect order. The carpets were vacuumed, the wood floors glistened, and fresh flowers blushed from countless planters spread around the room. Water caressed three tiers of marble landings and splashed down into an emerald pool. The only thing missing was any sign of people.

  Clusters of chairs sat without bodies in them. The recreation area to the far end was empty. All the other doorways and elevators were closed. How strange. Piper wondered where everyone had run off to.

  Piper clutched Talisman in her arm and hunkered down inside her coat as a chill tickled the back of her neck. She walked across the lobby to the main doors, where the three sets of glass partitions separated before her with hushed whispers. As Piper walked between panes of glass, the sunlight flickered, casting prismatic flares across her face.

  Once on the street, she looked left and right, hoping to finally see where all the people had gone. Perhaps an important person has come to the city. Maybe there is a parade. Or even a ball! Her heart thrilled at the thought of a real ball with music and dancing and food. The costumes would be extravagant, and all the attendees would be so handsome.

  Piper walked toward the setting sun—a warm orb on the horizon, peeking between buildings and reflecting off the great ocean. Suddenly, she thought the city’s inhabitants might be near the shore. Her excitement mounting, Piper began to run, Talisman jostling from under her elbow. She felt her fingers slipping on her holo-pad. But the thought of seeing where all the people had gone excited her. She just had to know!

  Her boots pounded down the pavement, and Piper felt her lungs burning like they did when she’d exerted herself too hard on the playground. She should probably stop and rest, maybe take a drink from the water fountain. But no, the people waited. She wanted to know where they’d gone off to and what had captured their attention. It had to be marvelous if everyone in the city was there!

  Her mother would be there. And her father too, surely. They’d most likely saved her a seat, so she didn’t need to wait in line. She didn’t want to miss a minute of whatever they were looking at. Piper stared at the setting sun. It was so bright. But unlike every other sunset she’d ever witnessed, it was getting brighter. And brighter. Until finally, she had to shield her eyes.

  She tasted something salty in her mouth. Her hair began to dance. The wind whipped, and she covered her face with Talisman. The sun had become so bright that she could hardly look at it, stealing only the smallest glance to see that the horizon had turned white. As white as the sun.

  Piper became afraid then. The sun was no longer friendly, and the wind no longer smelled of lavender. Talisman hid her eyes as the bright white encroached from every side, gusts nipping at her coat and her boots. A sense of panic rose in her stomach. There was nothing she could do, nowhere she could run. All around her, the white consumed everything. Not even Talisman or her holo-pad was distinguishable anymore. Power surged through her like a lightning bolt splitting a tree. The sound was deafening. She shrieked in pain, feeling as though her soul had been torn from her body at the hands of a merciless giant.

  Then all at once, it was over. Piper could hear herself breathing in short panicked breaths but heard nothing else. She was alive, or at least she thought she was. So she chanced a look from between tight eyes and clenched fists.

  Piper stood alone in a completely different place than the one she had stood in moments before. The white was gone, replaced by gloomy blackness. The wind was also gone, as were the buildings. In their absence stood ruins, gnarled hands of steel and concrete reaching angry fingers toward a murky sky.

  But this isn’t a different place. It’s the same place, just a different time.

  Piper looked behind her and noticed her apartment building surrounded by all the other once-beautiful buildings of the capital district, now shadows of their former selves. Where there had been gleaming spires in a pastel sky, ashen ghosts now stood, torn apart by an evil spirit. Their contents lay on the streets like bodies whose entrails had spilled out on the execution floor.

  Piper felt herself crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at her holo-pad on the ground. It was cracked. Talisman had been burned beyond recognition. And she had the distinct sensation that her parents were nowhere to be found.

  I am alone. Truly alone.

  She reached down and picked up Talisman’s remains, weeping for her dear friend. Then she heard something—heavy footsteps clomping through the rubble. She looked up and mashed the tears from her eyes with a dirty palm.

  There! She spotted a mound of debris near the place where the sun had exploded on the horizon. A figure rose from the heap, walking up the back side and looking toward her. Piper squinted, trying to make out details. This was, after all, the first person she’d seen since arriving here. She was curious, but she was also afraid. Very afraid.

  “Hello?” she called out, wiping another tear from her vision. “Who’re you?” But the figure kept walking toward her, boots mashing the metal and dust.

  Piper could finally make out the outline of a suit of armor, not like in her storybooks. No, like… the Republic troopers. But this armor was darker and scarier. It was as if any remaining light around her was sucked into this warrior, like a black hole on the edge of the cosmos. Nothing escaped him, and Piper knew right then that she could not escape him either. She would never escape him.

  “Stay away from me,” she said then repeated it with more confidence. “Stay away from me!”

  But the trooper kept walking toward her, one foot after another. Piper turned around and started running toward her apartment building, hoping she might find a passage back inside. She’d be safe there. But when she looked down, her
feet weren’t gaining any ground.

  “Just let me get home!” she yelled. It was so frustrating. Infuriating! She had to get away!

  Piper stole a glance over her shoulder. The trooper was upon her now, able to reach out and snag her if he wanted. His armor was huge, and she knew he could crush her in one hand. She tried to run harder but still failed to make even a meter of progress.

  “It’s all right,” the trooper said, his voice coming through a speaker. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Piper froze, shocked at how soft the words felt despite the warrior’s evil appearance. She turned around, clutching Talisman’s burnt corpse to her chest with both arms. “Who—who are you?”

  The trooper reached up, unlocked his terrifying helmet, and pulled it over his head. Piper stared at his face, studying it. Memorizing it. And then woke up to a warning klaxon blaring in the ship.

  19

  Admiral Kane sat alone in his quarters while his flight crew brought the Peregrine into orbit over Worru. The Stiletto-class corvette loomed over the lush green-and-blue planet like a hungry raptor searching for prey. Made to be both visually and functionally aggressive, the Peregrine’s fuselage was flat on the bottom and sides. The rounded top, however, swept from bow to stern in an arc. Large twin stabilizers raked forward like the ears of a prowling predator, and small port and starboard wings supported oversized weapon pods.

  “What do you mean you let them get away?” Kane hissed over the holo-vid.

  “I didn’t let them get away, Kane,” So-Elku retorted. “I only said that they escaped.”

  “There’s a difference?” Kane waited for the Luma to say something meaningful but realized it was a waste of time. “And I suppose you failed to open the stardrive as well?”

  “I did,” So-Elku said. “The woman still has it.”

  Kane was growing impatient. The only thing he despised more than failed plans was an inept leader. “So she’s on the run with the stardrive, and we have nothing.”