Sara nodded, “You’re right. I’ll work hard. I promise.”
She didn't hear anything more from Cora for the rest of the evening, and if she was honest with herself, she was a bit relieved.
Half an hour later Ensign Boon brought her dinner. She ate in silence, drinking a glass of rather good wine with her chicken and vegetables. The whole meal had been printed in the galley, but the wine was real. She would have to find out whom she should thank for that.
She eventually fell asleep sitting on the floor in a meditative pose, Alister curled in her lap, after failing to fully envision even the simplest of spellforms.
Chapter 17
Sara jerked her head up from the floor the next morning to the sound of her alarm, with a string of drool wetting her cheek. She wiped away the saliva and could feel the waffling pattern of the carpet imprinted on her face. She groaned and dragged herself into the shower.
She spent the next six hours in her captain’s chair, reviewing the night’s data and the defensive strategy she and Grimms had developed the day before. She only half paid attention to the documents, her mind wandering to her problem with spellforms.
Alister had taken up a position on the back of her chair, cycling between sleeping and attentively watching the crew.
Eventually, Grimms came to relieve her.
Sara decided to eat lunch in the galley, hoping to connect with the crew while she had the chance. The problem was that she was the captain, and everyone treated her as such. Conversations died down once she walked in, and only slightly picked up again when they realized she was there to eat and not to check up on anyone. Sara could feel the tension in the quiet conversations around her, and she regretted her location choice.
A large dark-skinned man in black fatigues slipped into the chair opposite her, seemingly from nowhere, wearing a muted smile on his face. He had a tray full of food, and two cups of coffee to wash it all down. Sara's eyes widened at how large he was; even dressed in the unflattering fatigues, she could see that he bulged with muscle. He had a handsome face framed by stark white hair that contrasted with his dark brown skin and was trimmed short to the scalp. He was far too young to have white hair from old age, so she reasoned he must be a mage with a peculiar physical trait, not unlike her and Cora's own Carnelian red hair.
His large hand came at her, open for a shake. “I’m Sergeant Major Baxter. I lead the battalion under Colonel Grimms. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain Sonders,” he said formally, in direct contradiction to his easy manner and familiar handshake. The familiarity of the handshake reminded her where she had seen him before. He was the one who had given the smile and lazy salute after her speech.
Sara was so glad that someone had actually come to sit with her that she was more than willing to overlook the slight breach in protocol. Not that she gave a damn about protocol in the first place, but she had known quite a few Marines at the academy, and they seemed to eat the stuff for breakfast.
“A pleasure, Sergeant Major. How are the troops settling in to the new ship?” Sara asked as the Sergeant Major began digging into his meal.
The sergeant began to answer her question, but stopped at the sight of intense, yellow eyes regarding him.
Alister was peeking up over the edge of the table from where he sat on the bench beside Sara.
Baxter smiled at the cat and offered him a sliver of chicken from the end of his fork. A black paw snaked out over the edge of the table and snatched the chicken before the animal disappeared completely.
“Sorry, he’s a bit of a food hound,” Sara said, her cheeks reddening at Alister's blatant manipulations.
“It’s fine. I had cats growing up, so I’m well aware of their tricks. I also know that if you want to be friends with a cat, you have to do it through their stomach.”
Sara reached down to pet Alister's head while he pulled the chicken apart, one paw holding it down to give his teeth the best leverage. “He’s pretty new to me, and, unfortunately, I never had pets growing up. We’re together by accident, really.” Alister stopped eating and gave her a look like she had said something stupid. “Well, maybe not entirely by accident.”
The sergeant ate a few more bites, waiting to see if Sara would continue. Right before the lull in conversation became awkward, he spoke up, saving her from blurting out something embarrassing just to fill the void.
“To answer your earlier question, the men are getting on just fine. The practice room is quite advanced, so we are able to do things that would normally be impossible on Earth,” he said, then took another bite.
Sara noted that his meal was disappearing at an alarming rate. “You may want to slow down there, Sergeant. You might choke.”
He looked puzzled, and then understanding slowly came over him. “Oh, sorry. It’s an enlisted thing. If you get to sit down for a meal, you better eat it fast, because you could get called out in the middle of it.”
Sara laughed lightly. “I think you have plenty of time. We are in a warp bubble, after all. It’s not like we could be boarded at any moment.”
“True, but habits are habits, Ma’am,” he said before shoving another bite into his mouth.
“So, what makes the practice room so advanced?”
Baxter chewed and swallowed before answering. “Well, the gravity manipulators, for example. Most planets we visit are going to have different gravity than the one g we are used to. The Aether powered exosuits help with our ability to move in such gravities, but it can't help control how we react in them. So, we might suit up and then crank the gravity down to simulate working on a moon, or crank it up to simulate a heavy planet. Like I said, the suits do most of the heavy lifting, but you still feel the effects. Plus, things like aiming down a weapon or throwing projectiles change with gravity. I always thought it would take years to get men to adapt to different gravities, but the human body has surprised me once again. It seems like people can adapt in just hours, or even minutes.”
Sara sipped on her own coffee while she thought about this. “Does casting change in different gravities?”
She hoped to try it out to see if it might somehow kickstart her spellforms.
Baxter nodded. “To a degree. It’s not that the spells change, but you have to get used to the odd feelings your body is going through in order to concentrate on the spellforms.” He finished off his coffee and gave her an appraising look. “Would you like to come down and practice with us? I’m guessing the captain would want to be able to perform her duties in any environment,” he said with a playful smile.
That cheeky bastard. He’s hitting on me.
She did like the idea of trying to cast in an odd environment, though, so she nodded. “That would be lovely, Sergeant Major. Are you free now?”
His eyes widened, and he stammered. “Uh, yes, Ma’am. I could meet you down there anytime.”
She smiled. “Great. I’ll just run to my room and change into my combat suit. See you in ten minutes.”
Sara smiled to herself at the look the Sergeant Major got on his face before he jumped up and cleared his empty tray. She guessed he would be rushing down to the practice room to tell everyone to be on their best behavior.
Chapter 18
Sara walked into the practice room. Though while calling it a ‘room’ was technically correct, doing so did the space an injustice. The Raven was not a large ship in comparison to, say, a cruiser; however, it was still on par with an aircraft carrier from Earth. The practice room was a towering, four-story enclosure that was easily fifty meters to a side.
There was an open area in the center of the room set up with a holographic environment system that, when used in conjunction with the Aether suits providing haptic feedback, were just as real as actual environments. You could walk through the holograms, but the suit would stop participants with their onboard motors.
The far end was set up as a live firing range with many types of low structures to shoot from and around. There was a weight room fille
d with Marines, all of whom wore the same skintight battlesuit Sara currently wore.
Sergeant Major Baxter stood just inside the door, now wearing the same battlesuit as she. When he saw her enter, he stood at attention and proclaimed in a loud voice, “Captain on deck!”
Everyone in the room stopped and stood to attention, snapping sharp salutes.
Sara held her head high and addressed the soldiers. “Thank you, Sergeant Major. Ladies and gentlemen, at ease.” The room went to parade rest. “I’m just here for a workout, like the rest of you. Please, continue.” Everyone turned back to the task at hand, and soon the room was once again filled with the sounds of men and women working their bodies.
Sara turned to the Sergeant. “You didn't have to do that. I don't want to put undue stress on the troops with my presence.”
“I can understand that, Ma’am. But you are their commanding officer, and they need to know that you are present. Protocol. You know how it is.”
Sara raised an eyebrow. “I do, unfortunately. So, show me where you and the other mages practice. I want to get a little work in.”
Baxter indicated a far corner that was walled off. “The practice room for the mages is separated and shielded from magic by one of the participants. We wouldn't want a stray bolt of something accidentally taking out a bystander. If you want to practice in various gravities, I would suggest we step over to the equipment dispenser and have your suit pulled out.”
Sara saw that there was a section of the wall with a dozen or more lockers where equipment was dispensed, along with benches and tables to outfit troopers. She gave a nod, and they headed that way.
Alister came flying from the floor to land on her shoulder as they walked, making Baxter jump to the side in surprise, his hands up in a defensive gesture.
“I thought you said you had cats growing up, Sergeant. A little thing like Alister got you all jumpy?” she said with a smile, as Alister rubbed his face on her head and purred loudly.
Baxter gave a chuckle. “I had cats, but most cats don't go riding around on their owners’ shoulders. Most cats are lazy little fu—sorry, lazy little animals that only eat and poop. Occasionally, they will deign to sit on a lap so that the owner of the lap might be given the honor of petting them.”
Alister gave the Sergeant a quizzical look and went back to rubbing his face on Sara's head, causing random strands of her hair to stick out in all directions.
“Is that so? I guess I just thought this was normal. Like I said, I’ve never had a pet before.”
Baxter walked to the dispenser and placed his thumb on a little pad beside a door set in the wall. The pad scanned his thumb then displayed his name over the reader, along with a list of all the equipment he was authorized to take. It appeared he had access to everything on the ship, which made sense—he was second in command of all the Marines.
Grimms was the actual colonel in charge, but he left the responsibility to Baxter, seeing as Grimms was also the first mate of the Raven. The command structure became complicated when Earth’s forces combined into a space Navy.
Baxter selected his Aether suit and waited the few seconds for it to be delivered. The light above the door turned green, and he pulled the locker open, revealing a matte black suit of armor that looked dangerous just sitting in its rack.
“You can use another dispenser, Captain,” Baxter said indicating the dozen or more doors.
Sara stepped over and pressed her thumb to a pad. She selected her suit and noted that even though she was the captain, she did not have access to nearly the amount of equipment as Baxter. She opened the door when the indicator turned green and took in her own suit.
Each suit came in three sizes for either male or female: small, medium, and large. This was so that parts, or even whole suits could be exchanged on the battlefield, if one was damaged too badly.
Her suit was a medium and painted with the matte black Aether sensitive material the Raven was coated with. She knew that as soon as it recognized her it would display her rank and name in the appropriate places. It looked a bit like plate armor, but with smaller segments that overlapped one another like large scales. The helmet was solid matte black without a glass faceplate and made of the same material as the rest of the suit. When the suit was powered through a small spellform built into the helmet the wearer would be able to see through the faceplate as if there was not four centimeters of armor blocking their view.
Baxter pressed his thumb to the forehead of his suit, and it hissed as sections opened like unhinging clams. He turned and stepped backward into the suit, which closed once he was inside. Blue light strips lit up along his torso and arms, indicating that he was channeling Aether into the suit’s spellform. The suit came to life, and he stepped out of the rack with an easy, natural grace. Sara noted that the suit looked even more dangerous in motion, and hoped she would never have to face down someone coming at her in one.
As soon as Sara was nestled into her own suit, a tiny light in the faceplate revealed a small, intricate spellform, recessed into the padding in front of her eyes. She blinked a few times, readying herself. She focused on the spellform and reached for her well of Aether, and it responded to her touch, just like it always had. It seemed her problems were with the spellforms, and not her ability to channel Aether. That was a development, at least.
The lit interior of the helmet disappeared and was replaced with a view of the outside world. She looked left and right, twisting her head inside the helmet, but there was no sign that anything stood between her and the busy practice room filled with marines. She held up her hand and took in the slim fitting glove of the suit, flexing her fingers a few times to get the feel for it.
The Aether suits were wonderful inventions that the Elif had brought with them. They were an uncanny mix of tech and magic, simple enough for anyone even slightly sensitive to Aether to power. But unlike most magical devices, it kept the Aether in a closed system that would let the suit run for days on one charge. This left the wearer able to focus on other things besides the spellform that powered the suit.
It was a piece of Aether tech that didn't come close to matching anything else the Elif had invented. It was as if they had been shown how to make the suits, but had no idea how to recreate the effects for other applications.
Sara stepped out of the rack and noted that her movements were effortless. The suits supplemented muscle movements with a kind of artificial muscle built into the thin lining. This meant she could run for hours without feeling the strain.
She took a few steps, then began to stretch in various poses, reacquainting herself with the feel of wearing the powered armor. Its flexibility was such that she could actually do most yoga poses without the plates getting in the way. The suit adapted and shifted as the wearer moved to provide maximum coverage, able to stretch and reorient as needed. The fact that such a flexible platform could stop small arms fire was amazing. The armor was not indestructible, however, and repeated hits from something like a rifle would eventually crack a plate.
Alister jumped up onto her shoulder as they headed to the magical practice room.
“Whoa, little buddy. You’re going to have to wait out here. There are all kinds of spells going off in there, and I don't want you to get hurt,” Sara said, craning her head to the side so she could look at the little black cat.
Alister just stared at her like she was an idiot, and dug his claws into her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how he actually did that, considering the armor plate could stop a bullet.
She reached up to pluck him from her shoulder, but he wouldn't let go. She was afraid she would hurt him if she pulled any harder; the look on his face made it clear she would have to, if she was going to get him free of his perch.
Baxter watched the whole exchange stoically, or at least he looked stoic, in his black faceplate. Eventually he spoke up. “There is a viewing section in the room. You can take him in there, and he can watch through the glass.”
Alister looked h
is way and stood a little prouder, almost as if to say, “What a good idea.”
Sara threw her hands up. “Fine. You are one stubborn animal. If you get hurt, it’s your own fault.” Sara thought she saw Alister roll his yellow eyes, but it was so quick, she wondered if she imagined it.
Baxter pressed a button to the side of the door to the practice room and waited for the indicator to turn green. It took nearly thirty seconds, and Baxter explained, “It gives a warning that people are about to enter, telling them to stop casting and make sure the room is safe. The mage on shielding duty confirms the room is clear, then gives the signal.”
He opened the door, revealing a large room recessed into the wall, making a much larger space than the outer dimensions indicated. The firing range was half as high as the main practice room, but long and narrow. There were half a dozen mages in armor standing at the closest end of the room, looking over at the newcomers. Another mage stood by the door, and behind him was a small room with viewing windows. Sara could see another half dozen men and women in the viewing room, looking to see who had entered.
Everyone snapped to attention, and the mage on shield duty—Sergeant Razz, according to his nameplate—yelled, “Captain on deck!”
Sara stepped forward and gave a salute to the room at large. “As you were. I’m here for the practice, same as you. Please, don't let me interrupt,” she said, hoping the mages wouldn’t ask her to step up and take their place out of duty, and inadvertently exposing her lack of magical abilities at present
The mages all turned back to their spellwork, except for a few in the viewing room, who watched the captain and sergeant major with interest.
Baxter opened a private communication channel with Sara. “Everyone here is a specialist in one kind of magic or another. As a special forces team, we strive to be experts at all magic, but the abilities are so varied, it’s nearly impossible to do. Everyone can cast all the combat-oriented spellforms, but we take this time between missions to get better in the areas of magic where we are lacking. We take turns teaching the rest of the team our specific specialty, giving advice and tips for more efficient casting. But as you know, form theory is a difficult thing to explain without practice. Today, Specialist Gonders is explaining the finer points of force magic. She is a wonder in fine control, and is trying to trim the fat from our less delicate spellforms.” He indicated the short, armored woman talking to a pair of mages.
War Mage Chronicles- Part One Page 10
