Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles 1: Wizard Defiant (8 page)

“Funny,” Richard said. “What’s up? I’ve got to take a shower before Myers calls formation or does some kind of surprise inspection.”

“Relax,” said Jerad. “I’ve got it on good authority we’ve got another thirty minutes before any of the TACs come snooping around. Besides, this is important.”

“What’s important?” Richard said. Jerad was not one prone to exaggeration, so Richard was interested to hear what the ex-battalion commander had to say.

“First off,” Jerad said, “we’re going to be fitted for our battle suits tomorrow. That includes battle helmets.”

“Are you sure?” Richard said a little shocked. “We’re just in our third week. I thought that was third year stuff. Heck, the cohort in front of us hasn’t even been fitted yet. Who told you this, Jerad?”

“Never-you-mind who told me, Rick,” said Jerad. “The information’s good. They are going to fit three cohorts at the same time. That’s just shy of six hundred cadets.”

“And that’s not all,” said Telsa. “They’re accelerating the training for the senior cohort. They will be shipping them out for their final internship this week. That’s a full six months ahead of schedule.”

“Sounds serious,” Richard said.

“It’s big serious,” said Tam. “It’s war. The Crosoians have broken the truce. Word is they have partially overrun sector five.”

The Crosoians were a dark race who thrived on combat. The last encounter between the Empire and the Crosioians had ended in a shaky truce sixty years ago. Both sides had taken heavy losses with no clear cut winner. The Empire already had a full scale war going in sector twelve with the Norwedian Federation not to mention the trouble with the Balorian pirates. Committing to another full-scale war would stretch the Empire’s resources pretty thin.

Richard sat down on an empty bunk next to the one Jerad sat on. Originally, four cadets had shared Richard’s room, but with all the D.F.R.s, every cadet had a room to themselves now.

“So, Jerad,” Richard said, “you were a battalion commander. Do you think they are planning on committing the senior cohort to actual fighting? That would be pretty short-sighted. Every senior cadet that gets killed now is one less fully-trained wizard scout next year.”

“Rick, old buddy,” said Jerad. “I think they are going to shove both the senior cohort and junior cohort into action ahead of time. I doubt they’ll send us freshmen or even the sophomore cohort into action. We’re not trained well enough to be useful. It would just be pissing equipment into the wind. The junior and senior cohorts are a different story. They’ve got enough training to actually make a difference.”

“Then why,” said Telsa,”are they fitting us for our battle suits and helmets tomorrow?”

“That’s easy enough,” said Tam. “If things get really desperate, even partially-trained wizard scouts may start to look good. If our senior and junior cadets start taking heavy losses, you can bet they’ll start picking replacements out of the lower cohorts.”

“But we’re not trained,” said Telsa as if common sense should win out. “You guys have prior military experience, but I’m straight out of civilian life. I’ve never killed anyone. I majored in astral physics for Creator’s sake.”

“It might not come to that,” Richard said. “Maybe it’s not as serious as it sounds.”

“Oh, it’s serious all right,” said Jerad. “My source at brigade headquarters told me some of our TAC officers have already received orders and will be teleporting out tonight.”

Richard couldn’t help but hope TAC Officer Gaston Myers would be one of those shipping out tonight.

“Just so you don’t get your hopes up, Rick,” said Jerad, “Myers is not one of them. I heard he begged the Commandant to give him combat duty, but the old man wouldn’t hear of it. He basically told Myers the cadets needed him, and the only way he would leave is if the Commandant got orders for both of them to leave at the same time. My source said Myers left the commandant’s office red-faced and fit to be tied.”

“Well, too bad for Myers,” said Tam. “And it’s too bad for us. I guess the only way to get away from Myers is for us to get assigned a combat mission.”

“Won’t happen,” said Jerad, “at least not as wizard scouts. We’re not trained enough.”

“What do you think, Rick?” said Telsa.

“Well,” Richard said. “I think tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.”

___________________

The next day was interesting indeed. Richard and his fellow cadets were up at 0500 hours as usual. At 0505 hours Richard stood in formation with the rest of the cadets in front of their barracks. A slight drizzle of rain made for miserable weather. As TAC Officer Myers marched to the front of their cohort, the platoon sergeants yelled, “Attention!”

“At ease!” said TAC Office Myers.

In cadet lingo, at ease meant standing at parade rest, which was only slightly less uncomfortable than standing at attention. Still, it was unusual for any of the TACs to give them even a slight break.

“As you’ve undoubtedly heard,” said TAC Officer Myers. “The Empire is now at war with the Crosoian Federation. What you may not have heard is that ten months ago, ninety percent of the wizard scouts were transferred out of districts five and six. They were replaced by tele-bots by order of the Intergalactic Council. As of this morning, the Crosoian Federation controls about twenty-five percent of district five. District six is also being hard pressed. All available wizard scouts have been activated and are being deployed to the hardest hit areas. Unfortunately, some wizard scouts are forced to stay here to babysit you wizard scout wannabes.”

“Attention!” someone yelled from behind the formation.

Two hundred and sixteen cadets along with the seven TAC officers standing with TAC Officer Myers snapped to attention.

The Commandant marched to the front of the formation dressed in his physical training uniform. TAC Officer Myers gave the Commandant a rare salute.

“Join your platoons,” said the Commandant.

TAC Officer Myers and the other TAC officers marched quickly to their perspective platoons. TAC Officer Myers took his place in front of Richard’s platoon.

“As you may have noticed,” the Commandant said, “you have some new TAC officers this morning. Most of your TAC officers were teleported out last night to districts five and six. But I assure you, the TAC officers now standing in front of you are more than capable of continuing your training and motivating you to maintain the standards expected of a wizard scout cadet. Each of your new TAC officers is a retired wizard scout. Like me, they may be old in years, and their Power reserves may not be what they used to be, but their bodies are still young, and they are more than capable of running all of you into the ground.”

The Commandant looked down the line of platoons as if daring anyone to challenge his assertion.

“With that said,” continued the Commandant, “we will be modifying your schedules to better take advantage of every available training opportunity. Your days will continue to start at 0500 hours with two hours of physical training. But instead of marching to the Academy, you will be trucked to save time. I have talked with Chief Instructor Winslow, and she will be extending your Academy training until 2000 hours each evening. That will leave you very little personal time, so use it wisely. Your Academy training will be seven days a week. This revised schedule will stay in effect until further notice. Are there any questions?”

There were none.

“Very well,” said the Commandant. “I don’t have to tell you the seriousness of the situation. The senior cohort will be getting their baseline DNA testing this week. They will be shipping out as newly graduated wizard scouts immediately thereafter. The junior cohort had their battle suits fitted at the end of their training last year. They will be issued their battle suits this week and begin a modified training program. Unless things change drastically, the junior cohort will complete their training in the next four weeks. Those who can pass their wizard scout testing at the end of the four weeks will graduate early and be shipped out as well.”

The Commandant let his words sink in before continuing.

“And that,” said the Commandant, “brings us to the freshmen and sophomore cohorts. The training for both cohorts will be expedited as well. However, even headquarters knows the younger cohorts are not sufficiently trained to do anything other than get in the way of real combat troops. Consequently, unless everything goes to hell in a hand basket, your cohort, along with the sophomore cohort, will be remaining at the Academy under the watch care of your TAC officers. But, never forget for one minute that your military brothers and sisters on the frontlines are dying to buy you the time necessary to complete your training. I assure you that your TAC officers and I will not be forgetting.”

“TAC Officer Myers,” said the Commandant. “Commence your morning training.”

“Yes, sir!” said TAC Officer Myers as he gave another salute.

Within fifteen minutes, Richard’s uniform was soaked with sweat. The Commandant led the exercises, and while he might be ninety years old, his body was still that of a man in his late twenties. He’d said he could run the cadets into the ground, and he proved it that morning. However, while the training was harder than usual, it lacked something. Richard felt the difference, but he couldn’t put his finger on it until Tam pointed it out to him.

“Cadet 832,” said Tam. “Did you notice the TAC officers aren’t harassing us? They’re running our butts off, but their almost treating us like we’re human.”

Richard nodded his head in acknowledgment. He had to think about it for a minute, but eventually he had to agree.
They’re yelling at us,
he thought,
but no more than our senior sergeants did back in marine recon. Even Myers is being relatively civil.
Myers’ non-harassment pressed home the seriousness of the situation even more than the commandant’s speech.

At the end of two hours, they returned to the barracks and cleaned up. After a rushed meal, they loaded onto trucks. Instead of being driven to the Academy proper, they were taken to a section of the post devoted to large rows of metal warehouses. They quickly unloaded the trucks and formed up.

“Cadet 832! Come here,” said TAC Officer Myers. “The rest of you follow TAC Officer Shatstot to the far warehouse where you will be fitted for your battle suits.”

Richard rushed to the front of the formation and snapped to attention in front of TAC Officer Myers. “Sir! Cadet 832 reporting as ordered, sir,” Richard said.

TAC Officer Myers remained silent until the other cadets had been marched away.

“Well, once again, cadet 832, you’re determined to show how special you are, aren’t you?”

Richard said nothing.
So much for not harassing us,
he thought.
Myers is as big a butt as ever.

Richard remained standing at stiff attention. He concentrated on a small mole located at the intersection of his TAC officer’s eyebrows. Richard tried not to breathe or even blink when possible.

Myers is just looking for any excuse to chew me out,
he thought.

TAC Officer Myers remained silent for almost a full minute before speaking. “Cadet 832,” he said as if hating to even give Richard the dignity of a number. “You will be reporting directly to Chief Instructor Winslow. She is located in the building directly behind you. If I so much as hear you give her or anyone else any trouble, I will personally rip your head off and crap down the hole. Do you understand?”

“Sir! Yes, sir,” Richard said. But he didn’t understand.
What the hell is going on?
he wondered.

“Then move!” said TAC Officer Myers. “Or do you expect me to hold your hand for the rest of the day?”

“Sir! Yes, sir,” Richard said flustered. “I mean, sir, no sir. I don’t expect –“

“Move it, cadet!” said TAC Officer Myers.

Richard moved it. He did a quick about face and double-timed to the nearest door of the warehouse. He knocked and then entered. Inside was a large office occupied by Chief Instructor Winslow and three technicians wearing lab coats.

“Cadet 832,” said Chief Instructor Winslow. “We’ve been expecting you. I’ll bet you have a few questions.”

Richard hesitated. The pre-Academy part of him wanted to deny he had any question, but Chief Instructor Winslow’s insistence over the last couple of weeks that the cadets ask questions had him torn over what would be his best action. A neatly folded wizard scout’s battle suit on the desk next to Chief Instructor Winslow overcame his hesitancy. Besides, he was the only cadet in the room other than Chief Instructor Winslow and the three technicians. Obviously, they were there for his benefit.

“Sir!” Richard said, “This cadet does have some questions, sir.”

Chief Instructor Winslow smiled. “I’ll bet you do. We have few of our own. And please don’t shout or say ‘sir’ twice. It’s very annoying.”

“Sir! Yes, err…,” Richard said. “I mean, yes, sir.”

“First off,” said Chief Instructor Winslow, “has anyone gone over your test results from a few weeks ago with you yet?”

“No, sir,” Richard said forcing himself to answer with only one sir.

“Well, they were unusual to say the least,” said the chief instructor.

“Sir?” Richard said.

Chief Instructor Winslow frowned a little and said, “I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to convince you cadets to call me ma’am instead of sir, will I?”

“No, sir,” Richard said.

Two of the technicians, also females, laughed. “I told you it was a lost cause, Harriet,” said the older of the two female technicians. “You will be a
sir
as long as you are at the Academy.”

“So it seems,” said Chief Instructor Winslow. “But I digress.” Looking at Richard, she said, “As I was saying, your test scores are unusual. All wizard scouts have an innate ability to use the Power in their reserves to form shields, perform scans, use telekinesis to move objects, and heal. In addition, all wizard scouts have at least a limited ability to sense Power lines and flows. Some wizard scouts can even do partial dimensional shifts. While all wizard scouts have most of these abilities, their Power is attuned for a single ability. For instance, your TAC Officer Shatstot is a specialist in healing, while TAC Officer Myers is a diviner. He specializes in sensing Power. Do you understand so far?”

“Yes, sir,” Richard said. He’d heard most of it before.

“Good,” said Chief Instructor Winslow. “Well, your test scores indicate your Power is attuned equally to everything. It specializes in nothing, because it specializes in everything. As far as we can tell, that’s an Academy first.”

Richard was confused, but he shook his head affirmatively as if everything his chief instructor said was making sense.

“That’s not the most exciting thing,” said the male technician. Richard recognized him as the same gentleman who’d been in charge of his testing three weeks ago.

“Go ahead and tell him, John,” said Chief Instructor Winslow with a smile. “I’m surprised you’ve been able to hold your tongue this long.”

“Yes,” said the old technician. He looked at Richard and said, “It’s very exciting stuff, I can tell you, 832. Power collects in pools. We call them reserves. If a creature happens to be connected to one of these Power reserves, they can manipulate that Power to do things. That’s why wizard scouts, and even magical creatures, are able to perform their abilities. Understand?”

Richard nodded his head.

“Good,” the old man continued. “Now I come to the most exciting part. You’re not connected to a single pool of Power. You’re connected to twin pools.”

“Possibly three pools,” said the younger female technician.

“That hasn’t been proven,” said Chief Instructor Winslow, “so don’t get sidetracked.”

Chief Instructor Winslow drew an oval on the computer screen built into her desk. She then drew a stick figure of a person with a line going to the oval. “This oval is a pool of Power.” She pointed to the stick figure, “This work of art here is you. This line represents your connection to your Power reserve.”

The male technician, John, reached out and drew a smaller oval to the left and a little lower than the first oval. He drew a series of lines from the larger oval to the small one. “And this,” he said pointing to the smaller oval, “is a second pool of Power formed by the overflow from the larger pool. Do you know what this means?”

“It means,” said the younger female excitedly, “that you have an opportunity to keep your primary Power reserve full while using the overflow pool to energize your healing ability.”

“How can I use a second Power reserve if I’m not connected to it, sir?” Richard said. “And, I don’t have any healing abilities.”

John looked at the drawing and said, “Oops!” He then drew a line from the stick figure to the small oval.

“You haven’t demonstrated any healing abilities,” said Chief Instructor Winslow, “because I’ll bet you haven’t tried. Plus, you’re not trained. We will be changing that in the months ahead.”

“Sir?” Richard said. “Why was I separated from my cohort? We’re supposed to be fitted for our battle suits today. With all due respect, I’d prefer not to miss that.”

“Ah, yes,” said Chief Instructor Winslow. “Salina, maybe you should explain.”

The younger female said, “You were separated from your cohort because you’re not being fitted for a battle suit today.” She pointed to the folded battle suit on the desk. “This suit is yours. It arrived yesterday. And this,” she said picking up the battle helmet, “is Nickelo. More accurately, I should say, the chip embedded inside this battle helmet is Nickelo. He is your battle computer.”