Dragon Invasion

by Craig Martelle

  “All right…” He started searching the database while Villalobos picked up her paperback and read, humming under her breath.

  Thirty minutes later, he’d gotten a cup of coffee and let it go cold. He’d ordered a quesadilla, which hadn’t arrived yet—and that he didn’t want—but it felt odd to sit there without ordering food. He didn’t want to stand out, even though his friend assured him people did it all the time.

  “Operation Swordfall,” he read out loud. His gut told him that was it. It was the name attached to the Side Liner’s last mission. “What is that?”

  “They always come up with such dramatic names.” Villalobos leaned into his space to peer at the screen. “There aren’t any tags. You’ll have to search it manually again.”

  He kept searching, but not much else came up. Dante had been chosen specifically for Swordfall, but it didn’t say why. He’d been sent alone, but it didn’t say why. Now, Coraolis was being sent to stop him without any guidance about what to do with a Mystic strong enough to cut a path to the Astral Plane.

  ***

  His leave of absence was approved with unheard-of speed. One of the Administrators was taking over Coraolis’s classes, so he was free to go to Earth Fleet Headquarters. He didn’t need to report in until the day before launch, and he’d run out of leads to follow at the Academy. He had one more to try at HQ.

  He was assigned a dormitory but declined the tour. He’d been to HQ enough to know his way around. Without assigned duties, he was free to pick up two coffees—one heavy on sugar and cream—and visit an old friend.

  Administrator Tiegan, elbow propped on his office desk, read through a report. Coraolis waited until the Administrator finished reading. The slight look of annoyance in Tiegan’s eyes went away as soon as he saw his visitor. The Administrator broke into a grin and came around his desk for a quick hug. Years ago, Tiegan had been Coraolis’s mentor, and they’d shared a rapport ever since.

  “I heard you were in the neighborhood.” Instead of returning to the chair behind his desk, Tiegan dropped into one of the visitor chairs. Coraolis handed him a coffee and did the same.

  “Plenty of sugar and cream,” Coraolis said.

  “Ah, you know me too well. I’m glad you stopped by. They’ve got trivia at the Sunset Tavern tonight. We could make a team. Show the E.F. how the game is played.”

  He grinned, and Coraolis smiled back. The offer was tempting, but he figured he couldn’t commit until he knew how this conversation was going to go. “I am free tonight,” he said, “but I need to talk to you first.” He glanced back, double-checking the door was shut. His friend was frowning by the time Cor looked at him. “This is important.”

  “If it’s about your mission, you got one more briefing on it than I did.” Tiegan’s smile had become wary. “But go ahead. Let’s talk.”

  “It’s about Operation Swordfall.”

  The color drained out of his friend’s face, and he knew he’d found the source he needed. Tiegan was a good man and a reliable friend. His first instinct was to help if he could and was always honest about when he couldn’t. Coraolis respected that and never asked his friend for much, even after he’d been promoted to Administrator.

  The only thing he’d ever asked for was that Tiegan go out for a drink with him occasionally. Coraolis didn’t like to cash in on a friendship, so he’d assumed he’d never ask for anything else. It wasn’t in his nature.

  Yet here he was, staying silent while Tiegan digested that name. It was too late for him to pretend ignorance, too much time had passed.

  “Swordfall, huh?” Tiegan set aside his coffee, then went to the liquor cabinet. “Drink?”

  “No thanks, I’m fine.” Coraolis watched Tiegan pour one and toss it back. “I take it you know something.”

  “I don’t like lying to my friends, Cor.”

  “Then don’t,” he said. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he couldn’t go too light either. “M1C Dante went out there alone. I need to know why before I go after him. What was the plan? How did he open portals to the Astral Plane?”

  “We’d all like to know that.” Tiegan poured himself another drink, then returned to his desk. He leaned against it instead of sitting down. He peered at Coraolis, the extra height lending him some authority. “It seems he picked up a few secrets he didn’t share with the rest of us.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Why send him alone? What was the point?”

  “There aren’t that many of us, and the demand grows all the time. The colonies want Mystics as much as the E.F. wants them on exploration vessels; the fact is there just aren’t enough of us. We’re stretched too thin.”

  “And you wanted to see if we could be sent out alone and survive?” Coraolis couldn’t believe it. “I can’t imagine being out there alone. Even with the increased demand, is the risk worth it?”

  “Dante was the most powerful Mystic to graduate the Academy in my lifetime. If anyone was suited to a solo mission, it was him.”

  “And you knew he had to go somewhere dangerous or the mission wouldn’t mean anything,” Coraolis said.

  Tiegan’s silence told him everything he needed. Dante had been sent out on his own and, essentially, set up to fail in an entirely new way, and a lot of people had been killed. More would be, too, if they didn’t deal with it soon.

  “It wasn’t an easy decision, if that helps,” Tiegan said. “I had reservations.”

  “It doesn’t help,” Coraolis said before standing up and pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d thought he knew Tiegan. He’d always been a good man and a smart one. He never fit with political machinery, not even the Mystics’ Secret Council. He could do better. He was better; or so Coraolis had always thought.

  This was a new side to his old friend, one that was hard to digest. It didn’t change anything he’d known before, but it did paint everything in a new light.

  “You’re angry,” Tiegan said.

  “I am. I’m also disappointed.” Coraolis offered his hand. “Thank you for your time, Administrator. I’ll do what I can to bring Dante back alive.”

  ***

  Coraolis walked until he found a park bench. He sat and held his coffee while it went cold. Dante was a traitor, he didn’t question that. The Mystic had joined with dragons and had done terrible things. He needed to be stopped, and Coraolis had been assigned to do it.

  That was fine. But he wanted to bring Dante back alive. He deserved a trial and the chance to tell his story. The fact that it would satisfy Coraolis’s curiosity was, of course, a bonus.

  His datapad chimed. Rubin was asking if he’d chosen a team yet. They’d need to put in transfer paperwork right away for anyone posted elsewhere.

  Coraolis shook his head and tapped his answer.

  Working on it, he sent, then logged into personnel records and started to skim. He’d need a partner; that went without saying. Seasoned fighters would be welcome as there was a good chance they’d see combat.

  But there was one other thing. He brought up Captain Julia Ronasuli’s bio. She was on Earth getting debriefed. She was probably at E.F. HQ, in fact. He studied her photo, wondering if it had been taken before or after the Side Liner incident. Her dark eyes and the set of her jaw said after, but he wanted to ask for himself. He decided to meet her, this woman who’d fought dragons and lived.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Julia stood at the window. She was at the headquarters for the Earth Fleet. She gazed at the flags at the front of the building. At the center was the flag for the government of Earth; to her left, the flag representing the Mystics; to the right, the Earth Fleet.

  She kept coming back to the Mystic flag and clenched her hands a little tighter every time she looked at it. Only the flags of her branch of the military and the government belonged. They didn’t need to honor the Mystics. Not here.

  She waited in a small conference room. A heavy oak table took up much of the space. A world map covered the north wall and a wormhole map covered th
e south. A photo of the President of Earth looked down from above the door, grimmer than usual. She didn’t care much for it, so she occupied herself by gazing outside.

  She turned away from the window when the door opened. Admiral Victor Rudolf entered, followed by two aides. He took his place at the table across from her, then waved at her to do the same while one of his aides distributed cups of coffee.

  “Captain,” he said evenly.

  “Good morning, admiral.” She took her seat.

  “We’re almost done here. I want to thank you for your cooperation and your patience. I know you’ve had a lot of people ask you the same questions, and you’re probably getting sick of it.” He opened his file folder and paged through it as he took his first sip of coffee.

  “No trouble at all, sir. I want everyone to understand what happened.” She accepted a cup from one of the ensigns and took a sip, savoring it. Top brass got the best stuff. Her ship carried the standard blend-and-grind no matter how hard she worked the supply chain.

  Admiral Rudolf looked at her, eyebrows raised. “There’s one point I want to talk about. During your debriefing, your experiences regarding Side Liner and Cavey have been on a ‘need to know’ basis.”

  “Aye, sir. I haven’t discussed this with anyone not involved in the debriefings.”

  “Good. That information is confidential and will need to stay that way until further notice.”

  She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Her brow furrowed. “Sir?”

  “Is there a problem with that, captain?” He stopped thumbing through his paperwork to look at her.

  “Admiral, I have grave concerns about security if no one knows what a Mystic is truly capable of. We gave them our trust. I gave Dante my trust, and—”

  “The Mystics still have our wholehearted support, captain,” he cut her off.

  She bit off the rest of her protest. He was the only one of her questioners who hadn’t made her feel like she was on trial. The first debriefing had felt like an interrogation. Her time with Admiral Rudolf felt more like an actual interview…until now.

  “You don’t have to like it, but I need to hear you understand,” he said.

  “I understand, admiral,” she said. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but I know this isn’t my decision.”

  “Very good, captain. This is the only time a Mystic has acted against the interests of Earth in the history of our partnership. One incident isn’t going to change that.”

  She nodded, feeling impatient. She’d already said she understood. Intellectually, she did. In her gut, she hoped it would be a long time before she had to deal with another Mystic. It was a frail hope. When she was taken off leave, she’d start a new tour, and every ship came with a pair of Mystics.

  He took a paper from his folder and slid it across the table. “To underscore the point, I have your new orders. Your administrative leave ends in forty-eight hours.”

  Julia picked up the deployment orders. Funny, in a digital world the military still required physical documents for certain things. They confirmed what Admiral Rudolf had said. In two days, she was to report to Doomslayer but not to join her crew.

  “A task force, sir?” she asked.

  “I was getting to that. You will work with Mystic First Class Coraolis to return to Cavey and stop the renegade Mystic. We prefer he be captured alive, but if that isn’t practical, we expect you to do what’s necessary.”

  She looked down at the orders again, the coffee burning a hole in her stomach. She had to work with another Mystic. Worse, she had to follow his lead. That didn’t ease her mind. If one Mystic went bad, another could as well; but as Rudolf had said, it wasn’t her decision. She saw the logic of it, even if her gut didn’t agree. They needed Mystics to deal with threats from the Astral Plane. If they lost that edge, the E.F. would be severely hobbled.

  “Understood,” she said, instead of protesting further. No point. She was an officer of Earth Fleet, oathbound to serve the people of the Earth and its colonies. Following commands was part of that. Like it or not, she was being ordered to move forward.

  ***

  Julia walked into her empty apartment and headed for the kitchen. The fridge was empty with only a few frozen meals in the freezer. Nothing looked good. She started a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, reading over her mobilization orders again.

  Her command on the mission included a squad of E.F. Special Forces. She’d work with M1C Coraolis to subdue and contain M1C Dante. If they weren’t able to do that, they were authorized to perform a permanent solution. Once Dante was dealt with, they were to confirm the condition of the Side Liner and perform rescue operations.

  The orders provided nothing on how they were to deal with the rift, but that was the Mystics’ domain. She was certain they had it in their orders. She was also certain that someone had to take care of the dragons. They couldn’t be allowed to invade the material plane.

  She was eager to get back to space. She’d never felt like she fit in on Earth, mainly because she’d spent so much of her childhood on an alien planet. When her parents moved back to Earth, she was confronted by a classroom full of kids her age, every one of them as alien to her as she was to them.

  She’d said the wrong things, acted the wrong way, and became an outsider. She’d made friends eventually, adjusted to her new reality, but she’d never gotten over feeling separate from her peers. She was a duck trying to fit in with swans, and she knew exactly why. She didn’t belong on Earth. She belonged among the stars.

  ***

  Coraolis stood opposite Julia Ronasuli, captain of the lost ship. She leaned against the door jamb with deliberate casualness, arms crossed as she looked at him. She was taller than he’d thought she’d be. She was still in uniform but had let her hair down. It framed her face, softening it, yet she was still cool and reserved as she assessed him in turn.

  The Mystic was above average height and, even though he was shy of forty, his rust-colored hair showed hints of white. He wasn’t vain but the early signs of age had inspired a weightlifting regimen that appeased his ego.

  He’d worn his favorite sweater and trousers rather than his Mystic uniform. He wanted this to be a casual meeting and hoped the civilian clothes would put her at ease.

  “I know this is unexpected,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “I was hoping to ask you some questions,” he added. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  He’d shown up unannounced, hoping to ask a string of personal questions. She was probably gun-shy after Dante. Yet he had questions that only she could answer—one of which was whether the officer in charge of the mission would work well with other Mystics.

  He could see that she wanted to say no, obvious from the long pause before she waved him through the door. That was a good sign. Even if there was a problem, she decided to act professional.

  “I think I can handle a few questions,” she said.

  Her apartment was simply furnished with a sofa and bookshelves. Impersonal photos hung on the wall along with a couple paintings. He didn’t get more than a glimpse of it on the way to the kitchen.

  This was where the Captain lived. When she was on Earth.

  Souvenir magnets from all over the world covered the refrigerator door. Most of them held snapshots of an older couple in alien surroundings.

  The picture that held center stage was a group in Earth Fleet uniforms. They were all smiling, but he wasn’t sure any of them looked as happy as the captain standing at the center of the group. She had a remarkable smile. It was a shame, what had happened to her and her crew. If there was any way he could make it right, he would.

  “Coffee? I just brewed it,” she said.

  He jumped a little and turned away from the fridge. She didn’t seem bothered by his snooping. Her expression was neutral, a trifle less expressive than when she’d opened the door.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “There’s milk, if you wa
nt it. I drink it black, so I don’t keep cream around,” she said. “I might have some sugar.”

  “Black is fine,” he said and sat at the kitchen table.

  “I’m gone most of the time. It doesn’t make sense to keep perishables around. And I don’t want to come home to ants,” she explained. A small line formed between her eyebrows.

  “It’s perfectly fine. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  Julia joined him at the table and put a steaming cup in front of him. He smiled when he saw the mugs. His had a cartoon cat pointing at its mouth as it demanded coffee. It looked new. Hers, marked with the E.F. Academy logo, showed a little more wear. It looked like a favorite.

  “You had questions,” she said.

  “More of a request. I need to hear more about Dante…this change he went through. To be frank, I’ve never heard of anything like it. The more information I have, the better.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything you can think of. I think I’ll know it when I hear it.”

  She traced the rim of her coffee mug as she stared into space. He knew she’d been debriefed. She could have spit out the same answers she’d given her superiors; instead, he could see her thinking it through.

  “He seemed fine on the trip out,” she said. “Friendly, if you gave him the chance. It was strange that he was there alone, but he wouldn’t say why.”

  He nodded. There was a question in there, but he couldn’t answer it. He wasn’t supposed to know the answer. It pained him. She deserved to know. “When did you notice a change in him? Before or after he went to the planet’s surface?”

  “After he did his exploration bit. He was out for four days, then suddenly he came out and demanded to go to the surface. He said the magnetosphere was interfering with his powers, or something like that.” She frowned. “Is that a lie?”

  “I would say so. Magnetism has never had an impact on a Mystic’s ability.”

  “Figures,” she muttered.

  “You said after being out for four days he started making demands? Did he sleep first?”

  “No. He didn’t rest at all after his commune.”