Gateway to War Read online

  Magnus blinked. “Say again?” But Flow was unresponsive. “Hey, Flow. You with me?” Magnus snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Flow!”

  Flow’s eyes fluttered open. “You remember all those rumors about how they bleed out their prisoners for weeks?” He was growing manic, his eyes starting to dart left and right. Magnus wondered if he should call for Valerie.

  Flow reached out and grabbed Magnus’s chest armor. “You remember? Well… it’s true. It’s all true. Only they didn’t give us weeks. The ‘living blood,’ they call it. They bled us out in a few days then brought us back.”

  Magnus stared at Flow, the man’s bloodshot eyes sending a wave of fear through Magnus’s chest. “Easy, Flow. Come on—let’s get you settled.” Magnus gently pressed his sergeant’s shoulders back down, but the big man resisted him.

  “Hey, what are you doing to him?” Cheeks yelled.

  Aww, splick. Magnus felt Flow bucking under his hands. This isn’t good. “Cheeks, you stay where you are. Copy?”

  “Who do you think you are, man? Get your hands off him!”

  “Cheeks, it’s me, Magnus!” Just then, Flow tried to swing his legs off his bed. “No, buddy. No, no, no. Listen, this is Magnus. You gotta relax, pal. Hold tight.”

  “I said get your hands off him!” Cheeks yelled, attempting to climb off his bed.

  “Cheeks! Stay where you are!”

  But Cheeks kept trying to stand anyway, only to slip off his bed and collapse in a heap. His head bounced off the floor with a wet crack. He was out cold.

  “Dammit!” Magnus yelled, still struggling with Flow. “Flow, listen, you gotta settle. No one’s gonna hurt you. You hear me? You’re safe.” Despite the man’s injuries and fatigue, adrenaline was giving Flow a definite advantage. His legs thrashed the covers off the bed. Magnus could barely hold onto him. The best thing he could do was to try a sleeper hold, and not even that worked.

  “What in all the cosmos is going on in here?” said a voice from across sick bay. Magnus looked up to see Valerie striding in from the entrance.

  “Could use some help here, Doctor Stone.” Magnus was in a stymied arm lock with Flow, both men red-faced and sweating.

  Valerie gave Cheeks a quick glance on the floor and then opened a cavity on the far wall. She produced a small molecular syringe, flipped it around in her hand, and jammed it against Flow’s neck. The sounds of a small electrical charge emanated from the device, and within three seconds, Flow was slumped in Magnus’s arms.

  “Thanks,” Magnus said as Valerie helped him lay Flow’s unconscious body back on the bed.

  “What happened?” she asked. “What’d you do?”

  “I asked for their account of the last two weeks. Let’s just say it wasn’t great.”

  “Severe PTSD,” she said, turning to Cheeks. She knelt beside him, checked his pulse, and examined his eyes with a penlight. “As bad as I’ve ever seen it.”

  “Me too.” Magnus knelt to help her lift Cheeks back onto his bed. “He’s gonna be okay, right?”

  Valerie produced a small scanner and held it over his head for a few seconds. She studied the readings on the display then tucked the device back into a holster on her belt. “He’ll be fine. Just one hell of a headache when he wakes.” She grabbed a second syringe and administered the same injection she’d given to Flow. “Nothing some medications can’t help. However, Magnus…”

  He looked at her and saw the concern in her eyes.

  “They’re going to need time. Both of them.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not sure you do. Whatever they’ve been through, it’s bad. You don’t get this type of reality incoherence unless you’ve been messed with, and they’ve been messed with. Like I said back on Oorajee, they’ve been tortured, Magnus.” She paused, and he didn’t know what to say. “I know you’re going to want to go after the Republic leaders who’ve set you up. However, your guys… they’re not ready to follow you there yet.”

  “They don’t have to.”

  “But they’re going to want to. I know Marines. And I’m telling you, Magnus, you can’t let them. They’re your brothers—I get that. I’ve seen this type of loyalty before.” She reached out and touched his forearm. “They’d do anything for you. But this…” She looked between Cheeks and Flow. “They’ll need time before they’re ready to fight again, and you should be prepared.”

  “For what?”

  “For the worst. They might never fight again. They might never even be themselves again.”

  Magnus lowered his head. He knew Valerie was right. The emotional and physical trauma Flow and Cheeks had been through was the worst he’d ever seen. Most guys died before it got this bad. And that was the worst of it—according to Flow and Cheeks, they had died.

  “Flow said the Jujari killed them and then brought them back to life.”

  Valerie tilted her head and squinted at him. “What did you say?”

  “Rumor has it that the Jujari bleed their enemies to death, siphoning off their life force or something, and then bring them back to life only to do it again. I’d never thought it was true, of course, just—you know—stories that circulated through the Corps late at night around campfires and splick. But, mystics, Flow said something about ‘living blood.’”

  “Living blood,” Valerie repeated. “That might explain the strange group of punctures around their kidneys and over their heart.”

  “You mean… like transfusion scars?”

  “Something like that.” She walked over to one of the black wall panels and swiped it to life. She shuffled through medical diagnostic charts, having already changed the text to Galactic common, and brought up bio scans of Sergeant Michael Deeks and Corporal Miguel Chico. “Here,” she said, zooming in with her fingers to show some discolored skin tissue. Five small dots in the shape of a pentagon were positioned on each side of the lower back, over the kidneys, and another set over the heart.

  She pulled the images off the wall into a holo-projection and twisted it. The patterns became three dimensional, showing five small tubes that traveled subdermally and ran to the kidneys and heart respectively like five-fingered claws.

  “Holy mystics,” Magnus whispered. “What is that?”

  “Whatever the Jujari were doing to their blood, that’s how they got to it. Based on my initial exams, the Jujari could, theoretically, use a body as a pump—”

  “A pump?”

  “Or more like a fuel source.”

  “For what?” Magnus asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. But there’s no way they could keep it up for long. The metabolic rate required to sustain such activity would be enormous. Not to mention painful.”

  Magnus turned from the holo-display and regarded Flow and Cheeks. His heart was heavy for them both. For Wainwright. For the old Luma who had survived with them… and for all the people they’d lost. He wished he’d been there sooner for them and for Mouth. Maybe Magnus’s MAR30 would have made a difference.

  “There’s nothing more you can do right now,” Valerie said, placing her steady hand on his biceps. “Just let them rest and then get them somewhere safe. Away from war.”

  “That’s the one thing I can’t do.” Magnus turned and put his hand over hers. “This war will consume every corner of our galaxy.”

  2

  Magnus and Valerie walked through the empty corridors of Rohoar’s ship. They’d left Flow and Cheeks to rest in sick bay and decided to head to the bridge to see how the rest of the crew was doing. The Shining Bright Star of Mwadim Furlank over a Thousand Generations was the rough equivalent of a Repub destroyer-class vessel. She was old, Magnus imagined, and well used. The hallways alone had enough scratch marks and hair on the floor to send a fleet of cleaning and maintenance bots into overload. But at her peak, the Bright Star must have been quite a ship.

  In fact, most of the Jujari starships, while old, had an elegance to them that betrayed mere utilitarian war lust. Beneath the gun decks and bulbous armor were hints of beauty more reminiscent of nature than of battle. The Bright Star, for example, resembled a manta ray from Capriana—almost, except for the slew of turret emplacements, external torpedo racks, two backup shield-generator rectifiers, and reinforced plate armor that turned the ship into a cumbersome war hulk.

  Magnus was beginning to see a theme at work in the Jujari people. Beneath their rough exterior was something of deep integrity. Though he wouldn’t go as far as Awen to interpret what he saw as praiseworthy—not when they would bleed prisoners to death and back. She was crazy to overlook that. But he had to admit that there was an element of honor among the beasts, at least the Tawnhack, that he at least found… noble.

  The way Rohoar had so quickly taken his son’s place in honoring their debt code, for example—Magnus had never seen anything like that before. He knew plenty of Marines who would have tried anything they could to get out of the situation, and then, once committed, they’d complain until their captor was forced to release or kill them on account of their constant whining. Instead, Rohoar didn’t even seem to be bothered by the drastic arrangement. Once he’d made up his mind, he didn’t second-guess the decision. The closest thing Magnus could compare it to were the few times he’d seen a Marine sacrifice his or her life for others in a final act of heroism. But Rohoar’s actions were not heroism—they were the equivalent of indentured servitude.

  “Are you still mad at me?” Valerie asked.

  Magnus slowed and looked at her. “Come again?”

  “Are you still mad at me? About your bioteknia eyes.”

  Nothing like an assertive woman. Magnus noted—yet again—how attractive she was. But there was also sincere transparency in her question, which made her seem vulnerable, maybe even insecure.

  “No.” Magnus stopped and turned to face her. “I’m not mad at you.”

  As though his words had lifted a weight from Valerie’s shoulders, she relaxed and took a deep breath. “Because I knew what it would do to your career and how much that would hurt you and then all the relationships with your Marines, and—”

  “Valerie.” Magnus put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You made the right call.”

  She regarded him like a child looking for approval from her parent. “I’ve thought about it every minute since.”

  “Well… cut it out.”

  Valerie laughed then looked away from him. But she still seemed nervous.

  “Tell me about them,” Magnus said, hoping to put her at ease.

  “What?”

  “You gave me a brand-new toy but forgot to give me the instruction manual.”

  “Well, you did kind of run off to rescue your men.”

  Magnus smiled. “I know what I did. And your gift helped me do it.”

  “My gift?”

  “Come on, Doc. I might not know much about implants, but these eyes aren’t your off-the-shelf line, are they?”

  Now it was Valerie’s turn to laugh. “No, they’re not.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tied it in a bun. “I mean, they’re not the best thing on the market—we were on Oorajee, after all. But you’d be surprised at the kind of tech Abimbola had stockpiled.” Valerie shrugged. “It was as simple as me asking him for the best he had, and then he cut me a deal.”

  “You’re telling me you bought these?” He pointed at his eyes. “With your own credits?”

  She smiled. “A senator gets paid pretty well.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “So it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “It was a big deal to me.” He stared into her eyes a beat longer than he wanted to. Then they both looked away. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I figured if your military career is over, you might as well walk into your next line of work with an advantage over everyone else.”

  “That’s… real sweet, actually.” And here he’d thought the surgery had just been a hasty decision by a low-grade triage medic—the kind of doctor who had a knack for ending Marines’ careers prematurely.

  Valerie smiled then turned to walk away. But Magnus caught her by the arm. “Valerie, wait.”

  “Yes?” Her big blue eyes seemed limitless, and the smell of her hair was intoxicating. She was so close he could feel her body’s warmth. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman or held someone? Out of nowhere, he felt the sudden urge to take Valerie in his arms and kiss her. Such things happened when he was tired—when his deep sense of discipline slipped. Tighten it up, Adonis.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Magnus blinked. He was holding Valerie at the elbows. “I… I just wanted to…”

  Valerie leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Her breath was hot, and she smelled like strawberries. Strawberries! Who smelled like strawberries after spending two weeks on Oorajee?

  A senator’s wife, that’s who. Dammit, Adonis!

  While it pained him to do so, Magnus pulled away and let go of her arms. “Valerie, we shouldn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “You’re still grieving. You need time.”

  “No.” Valerie shook her head. “That love died a long time ago.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The political life… is not what it’s cracked up to be.” Valerie gave him a look that Magnus couldn’t decipher.

  Is that regret or desire?

  “Darin was no Marine,” she added.

  What does that mean?

  “Anyway, you said you wanted to…?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Magnus had completely forgotten what he was going to ask. Her unexpected advance had caught him off guard. Then his train of thought came back to him. He shook his head. “Piper. I wanted to ask you about Piper.”

  Valerie’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “She’s fine. Enjoying yet another ride in a starship, this time one flown by giant ‘puppy dogs.’”

  Magnus smiled, feeling the awkwardness of the kiss pass. But was it awkward? Or was it just so good that I want to do it again? “That’s kids for you.” He cleared his throat. “But I mean, how is she?”

  “Oh, you mean her abilities?”

  “I was thinking something more along the lines of magic death rays, but abilities works.” A pained look crossed her face. “Dammit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Valerie spread her thumb and index finger across her eyes, pushing back tears. “Marines have never been known for their bedside manner.”

  “Seriously, that was stupid.”

  “It’s okay.” She waved him off, collected herself with a calming breath, and closed her eyes. “I realize you and I haven’t talked about this yet.”

  “Well, it’s not like there’s been a whole lot of time for it.”

  “That’s true.” She took a step back and leaned against the wall. “Piper’s different. She’s what the Luma call a true blood.”

  “The Luma?” Magnus felt blood rush to his cheeks and ears. “What’s this got to do with the Luma?”

  “Everything.”

  “You’re not telling me Piper’s a Luma, are you?”

  Valerie laughed. “No, not at all. But she has more power in the Unity than any Luma.”

  Magnus froze. What does that even mean? “I’m lost.”

  “I come from a long line of Luma,” Valerie confessed, placing her hands on her lower back. “Like all of my ancestors, I was bound for observances on Worru.” Valerie paused and searched Magnus’s face. “Sorry, observances is like graduate school for Luma candidates.”

  “I know what it is, basically. I have a friend who…” An image of Awen suddenly popped into Magnus’s mind. It caught him by surprise, because he realized he missed her. Save a woman’s life, and her face haunts you forever. He wondered if Valerie’s face would do the same. “Never mind. Go on.”

  “Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted,” she said.

  “Then what did you want?”

  She chuckled. “Anything other than the Order. Being a diplomat, working through everyone’s problems, spending time in stuffy conference rooms and attending over-the-top dinners—that just wasn’t for me. I wanted something else. Something real. Something harder.”

  “Harder than being a Luma?”

  Her lips curled into a cute smile. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know.”

  “Wait. So you’re telling me you turned down a career as a Luma to join the Republic Marines?”

  Valerie nodded.

  Magnus wasn’t entirely surprised, of course. Looks could be deceiving. And while she might have looked more like a Luma, the way she’d handled herself with his Z back on Oorajee and her ability to stay calm under pressure were Marine qualities. People were born with those or they weren’t. There wasn’t any middle ground.

  Magnus ran the back of his hand across his beard. “But you just said you didn’t like stuffy conference rooms and fancy dinners. Forgive me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t that exactly what marrying a senator gets you?”

  Valerie puffed her cheeks and exhaled. “You do stupid stuff for what you think is love. And then it gives you… well, it gives you Piper.”

  “That’s why you got out?”

  “I did two tours in Caledonia and fell in love with Darin, and then we found out I was pregnant with Piper. I wanted to stay in and serve out my time, but he insisted I get an honorable discharge. He wanted me to have Piper and said we could make a comfortable life together. His connections made getting out easy. But that didn’t mean that life with him was easy.” Valerie’s eyes focused on something in the distance. “Part of me still wonders… you know… what might have happened if…”

  “Yeah, don’t go there.” He wanted to be affectionate, to reassure her, but he didn’t want to go back to the kiss. Well, he did, but it wouldn’t have been right—not at the moment, anyway. “Second-guessing is a cruel master. It convinces us we can still change stuff in our past while it hijacks our present. Just don’t.”

  Valerie’s big blue eyes blinked at him. “Sounds like you have some experience there, Lieutenant.”

  “Maybe.” He pulled his hand away from her. “So Piper’s a savant of sorts—in the Unity, I mean.”