War Mage Chronicles- Part One

by Charles R Case

  She suddenly decided having an audience was a little too much for her, and cut the yoga short. She stood and smoothed her red hair back, redoing her ponytail, making sure she didn't have any wild hairs. She grabbed the towel beside her mat and wiped at her face, but, not having really broken out in a sweat, managed only to smudge her mascara.

  “Shit,” she said, looking at the black smudge.

  Why do I even bother with this stuff? She looked over her shoulder at Baxter, who was messing with an app on his arm tablet, oblivious to her makeup tragedy. She noted that he was not wearing his uniform, but instead had put on a pair of old jeans and a black tee shirt. If it weren’t for the cuff on his forearm holding his military issued tablet, he would have looked like he was just heading out to the bar with friends. She smiled. Looking nice isn’t a crime. Besides, the mascara brings out my eyes.

  She rolled up the yoga mat and stuffed it in her closet. She picked out a thin knit sweater, deciding her black yoga pants were fine for a beer with a friend. Plus, he seems to rather like them. Not that that matters, she amended quickly. She slipped the sweater over her head, and after a small internal battle, reapplied her mascara in the small mirror on the closet door.

  She could see in the reflection that Alister had jumped up onto Baxter’s lap, and was being vigorously petted.

  Slipping on some ankle socks and black running shoes, Sara declared herself ready for beers.

  They walked down to the dining area, a slightly awkward silence accompanying them. It wasn’t unusual for the crew to dress in their civilian clothes if they were off-duty, but most people just wore their battlesuits. The suits were extremely comfortable, but sometimes not wearing a skin-tight suit was nice. Seeing Baxter in jeans and a tee shirt made Sara think of him as someone more than just the Sergeant Major.

  Finding an empty table in the corner, Sara sat down while Baxter went to the drink dispenser and grabbed them two beers. He returned and twisted the tops off the plastic bottles, handing her one.

  He took a long pull before saying, “I don't know that I’ve ever seen you in anything but your uniform or battlesuit.”

  So we’re going straight for the elephant in the room. Sara flushed, taking a gulp of ‘beer’ to cover it up. “Same to you. I didn't even know you owned anything that wasn’t government-issued.”

  He laughed. “To be honest, this is about it.” He leaned in conspiratorially, his voice low and without a trace of humor. “Don’t tell anyone, but this tee shirt came from boot camp.”

  He said it so seriously that it took Sara a second to realize it was a joke. She barked out a laugh that surprised them both, and quickly took another drink to mask the burning flush that was creeping up her neck. She noticed a few heads turn their way and then quickly look away when they saw who it was.

  God, I wish this beer was real. What is wrong with you, Sara? It’s Baxter; no need to be nervous. You’re just two friends, having a beer.

  Baxter gave an easy smile, chuckling at his own joke. “So, where are you from? Originally?” he asked, leaning back and giving her some room to breathe.

  Having something to pour her unexpected nervous energy into, she was happy to tell him all about her life in the American Midwest. “Columbus, Ohio. My parents own a farm just outside the city that they inherited from my dad’s parents. They still work it, though it’s not all that big… mostly fruits and vegetables that taste better than the printed versions. They have kids come from the local schools to learn about farming techniques and practices, and they still sell the produce locally. My dad said that, before the Elif came and the molecular printers started to provide everything, they were struggling to stay afloat. Now the farm is there for educational purposes and because he didn't really know what else to do. He was a farmer all his life, then overnight, it became a boutique business. They make a little money for luxuries, but it’s not like money is all that important anymore.” She was rambling, but Baxter was following every word.

  He nodded when she finally took a breath. “That must have been fun; growing up on a working farm. Not many people can say they’ve done that.”

  “Cora and I were off to school at seventeen, so we didn't really ever get into it.”

  Baxter took another swig of beer. “Yeah, I was in the Marines at eighteen, and never left, obviously,” he said, indicating the ship in general with a wave of his hand. “But my dad was a cop in L.A., so I kind of followed in the family business. Though I’m sure he never thought his son would be seeing action on another planet.”

  After the ice was broken, the conversation took an easier turn. They ended up talking about everything from school to what the holidays were like back with family, and how long it had been since they had gone home.

  Sara found it easy to talk to the dark-skinned man, with his generous smile and white hair that somehow didn't add years to his face. Halfway through the conversation, dinner was being served, so they grabbed trays and fell in line with the rest of the crew, continuing to talk the whole way through the queue.

  Once they had eaten, Alister crawled into Baxter’s lap, purring and rubbing his face on Baxter’s fingers. Sara felt a stab of jealousy; he only acted that way with her.

  Alister stopped purring and turned to look at Sara, a perplexed look on his face. His yellow eyes narrowed slightly, and she could feel his confusion through their empathic link.

  Then she got it. He liked Baxter so much because her own feelings were bleeding into him. Alister was just acting on what she was feeling.

  Oh, my god. I like him. Shit… shit. I can't. He’s my subordinate. This isn’t good. What would people think? What would Cora think?

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said, standing up and interrupting Baxter right in the middle of a story about his time in boot.

  The look of shock on his face quickly turned to something more somber. “Ah, right. Wouldn't want to keep you. Have a good night, Captain,” he said with a nod, putting Alister on the floor.

  “Sorry, it’s not you. I have a… few reports that I need to get done before my shift tomorrow,” she said lamely.

  He gave her a smile, but she could see the disappointment it hid. “I understand. Please, don't let me keep you. I had a nice time.” Sara was well aware of the lack of the usual ‘We should do it again sometime’ that accompanied the end of most nights like this one.

  Fuck, Sara. You’re an idiot.

  She didn't know what to do, though. So she gave him a nod and made a beeline for the door.

  She looked back right before exiting and saw that Baxter had his head down slightly, and his brows furrowed in confusion, more than likely wondering what he had done to drive her off.

  Alister trotted up next to her as she walked down the corridor toward her room. He gave her a sideways look. “Merp?”

  Sara frowned. “I know. I’m a big ol’ chicken. You don't need to rub it in.”

  He flicked an ear, but didn't say anything more.

  Chapter 6

  The next day and a half passed with Sara trying to avoid Baxter and the feelings she was burying. Her shift on the bridge became a relief instead of the monotonous chore it had been in the previous days of transit. She wouldn’t have to deal with any feelings while staring at the slowly expanding view. Grimms had picked up on her odd mood, but said nothing, gleaning that it was a personal matter he was best left out of.

  Sara took the time she wasn’t on duty to talk with the Elif on board. Dr. Hess and Dr. Romis had caught a ride with the Raven, and had been spending time with Ambassador Foss in his quarters. The Ambassador had training on how to handle being alone, but he was relieved to have some company.

  The Elif were a very social species, and spent the majority of their time in small groups, even sharing quarters on starships. The doctors had taken the time to reacquaint themselves with each other, and Sara was glad to see that Ambassador Foss was a welcome addition to their reunion. Sara did feel a little uncomfortable at the thought of all t
hree of them sleeping in the same room together, but to each their own. She wasn’t about to judge them for finding happiness, after the battle they had survived.

  The doctors were currently keeping busy talking with Cora. They pulled up old descriptions of human ships and the fascinating things they could do both in battle and in peacetime. Cora was finding the detailed records immensely helpful, seeing them as a glimpse of what was to come from the tests she and Grimms had set up. All three of the Elif made it clear that they would like to be onboard when the testing commenced, in order to see firsthand what they had been studying for the majority of their lives. Cora welcomed them with an enthusiasm that mirrored their own.

  Sara, however, was still having a little trouble trusting the Elif as a whole after watching the video of the War Mage dying at their treachery. But that was her problem, not the doctors’ or Ambassador Foss’s; they had been nothing but kind and helpful since before Colony 788. She needed to remind herself that what she had seen had happened a long time ago, carried out by long-dead rulers of a desperate race of people. The circumstances were far different now. She didn't think she could ever sacrifice an entire race of people to save her own, but then again, she had never been confronted with that choice.

  On the third day, the Regis dropped out of warp, and, with a sweep of the sensors, the Sol System showed itself on the bridge’s holo projector, looking the same as it had when they had flown out on their maiden voyage just under two weeks ago.

  They were towed insystem, all the way to the orbital shipyard, where Connors detached the Raven from the destroyer’s hard points and flew them into the dock under thrusters. Sara still didn't want Cora doing any heavy lifting, even the relatively short warp across the system, despite her twin’s reassurances that she was fine.

  Sara was packing up her Navy-issued duffel bag for the short stay back on Earth during her debriefing. The Admiralty wanted her to come in person, and with the sensitivity of the information she had gathered on their short mission, she thought an in-person meeting was a good idea.

  “Well, we have our testing parameters. Grimms’ suggestions were all accepted, as I figured they would be,” Cora said from the room’s speakers.

  Sara smiled. “He is rather thorough. Are you sure you don't want me onboard for the tests?”

  “No, Grimms and I can handle it. We’re not going to be looking for a fight, and the jumps we have planned are into deep interstellar space and back. There shouldn't be anyone even remotely close to us; if there is, I can get us out of there quickly,” Cora said, amused at the idea that Sara would want to hang around for a boring battery of tests. “You’re going to have your hands full, anyway. With the debriefings and searching for the dreadnought, you’ll be busy. Do you know where you’re going to start looking, by the way?”

  Sara had been thinking about this ever since Cora had brought it up the first time. “I have an idea, but I need to talk to Alister about it.” The cat perked up at the mention of his name.

  “How are you going to do that? He’s a cat,” Cora said, reminding Sara that she had not told Cora about their meeting in the Aether. Or the fact that he was a pixie—though now she wondered if that was even possible. Sara told herself she’d kept it quiet so that Cora would not be distracted while adjusting to the core, but she wondered why she really felt the need to keep things like this from her sister.

  Some habits die hard, I guess. It’s your sister, dummy; who else do you trust even half as much? Now is as good a time to tell her as any, she supposed.

  She opened her mouth to explain how she could talk to her cat, but found she couldn't mention anything about it. Her mouth opened and began to move, but she couldn't get the words out. It was like when she had tried to tell Boon about the pixies. Something was keeping her quiet about anything even remotely concerning the creatures.

  I really should have met with Alister to talk about this, she admonished herself. “We have our ways,” she finally told her sister, knowing it sounded lame.

  Sara could hear Cora's disbelieving expression. “Uh, okay, weirdo.”

  She changed the subject before she was talked into a corner. “How long will the testing take?”

  “A few days, a week at the most. I’m sure the UHFC has plenty of plans for us, so they don't want the tests taking too long, but of course they want a thorough examination, at the same time. Don't worry, we’ll be safe.” She paused. “How is Boon doing? Any closer to getting the spellform?”

  Sara had just come from Boon’s bunk before packing her own bag. “Don't you watch everything that happens on the ship?” she asked, realizing she had no clue how Cora operated from her tank.

  Cora laughed. “I can, but I don't. People deserve their privacy. Besides, I can't look everywhere at once. I’m still human.”

  “You spy on me all the time!” Sara argued, standing up from her half-packed duffel bag and planting her hands on her hips.

  “Well, you don't count. You’re my sister. And besides, someone has to keep an eye on you,” Cora said smugly.

  “Great, my own personal voyeur,” Sara said, rolling her eyes, and she snatched a folded shirt from the bed and stuffed it into the open duffel. “Boon is doing well, for your information. She can make both forms, but is having trouble combining them; I can say from experience that’s the hard part. I’m really impressed by her ability, though, considering she hasn’t had any formal training. With a little more work, I think she’ll have it.”

  “Good, then I don't feel so bad that I ordered her to accompany you.”

  “What? I’m going to be in with the Admiralty most of the time. Doesn’t she have duties here on the Raven?” Sara asked, immediately regretting the question, because it let Cora know that she wasn’t paying attention to her crew’s duties.

  “God, I can't believe you’re in charge of a warship,” she said with a sigh. “Yes, but nothing that can't be covered by someone else. Besides, most of Boon’s duties are related to you. She is your cabin girl, after all.”

  “I knew that,” Sara lied. “It’s probably best if she’s with me, anyway. I’m hoping to learn more about being a War Mage, and she may as well learn it with me.” Sara kept her fears about being unable to control her powers to herself; no need to worry Cora.

  There you go again, she scolded herself, before shaking her head slightly to dislodge the worry.

  “How long will it take her, do you think?” Cora asked, bringing Sara back to the conversation.

  “To be able to cast? I have no clue. She works on it constantly, but it’s a really hard spellform. Besides, if this whole thing is determined by genetics, she may not be able to do it at all,” Sara said, dropping her makeup bag on top of her clothes and zipping the duffel closed.

  “It is a hard spell, but I think the fact that she can hold the two separate forms is proof she’s a War Mage. I never met anyone able to hold two forms at once, but after what I learned from the core, I gave it a try. After some practice, I was able to do it, though I still can't combine them,” Cora said mischievously.

  Sara cocked her head. “You’re trying the Familiar spell?”

  Cora gave a light laugh. “Of course I am. We’re twins, remember? If you’re a War Mage, then so am I.”

  Sara blinked a few times, trying to let that sink in. “I didn't even think about that. Holy shit, Cora. We would be unstoppable if you had a familiar, too. “

  “The problem is I’m stuck in this tank, and the last I checked, there are no small animals onboard for me to bond with,” her sister reasoned, sounding slightly disappointed.

  Knowing that the familiars were not animals at all, Sara had an idea. “Let me worry about that. Don't cast the spell if you figure out how, not until I can arrange for a potential familiar to be close by. I don't know what will happen if they can’t get to you.”

  “I figured you would say something like that. Don't bring me a rat or anything creepy; make it something cool,” she laughed.

  Sara lo
oked over at Alister, who was paying close attention to the entire exchange. He gave her a very slight nod, though she didn't know if it was to indicate he agreed that Cora could be a War Mage, or if he was saying they could bring her a pixie. Either way, they had a plan of sorts.

  Sara checked her arm tablet. “Shit, I have to go. Is Boon ready?”

  “I’m ready,” a high voice chimed in from the doorway. Boon was in her dress uniform, and her bag, gripped in both hands, hung in front of her.

  Sara threw the strap of her own bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. “Let’s go. We have some admirals to impress,” she said, closing the door behind them once Alister was out in the hall. He jumped up on her shoulder as they made for the airlock.

  “Does he always do that?” Boon asked, looking at Alister perched on her shoulder, doing his best impression of an Egyptian god.

  He caught her gaze with his yellow eyes, and raised an eyebrow at her. Alicia started, and turned to face forward.

  Sara gave a chuckle. “He does. I think it’s because he’s a lazy bastard that hates to walk anywhere.”

  His head snapped around to her, and he let out a high-pitched “Meep?”

  Sara regarded him with squinted eyes, then said to Boon, “Don’t worry, you’ll have your own little bundle of joy riding you like a horse in no time.”

  The girl let out a long breath through her nose, dispelling the pent-up frustration that the spellwork had brought on. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 7

  Sara took a sip of water, sitting straighter in her chair. She was at a table facing a semicircle of admirals, all of whom were old enough to remember a world without magic. Boon sat next to her, holding a tablet and scrolling through the reports Sara had written during the mission, presenting the pertinent information to her captain when the time came.

  Sara cleared her throat and continued. “That’s right, Admiral Franklin, a familiar.” Alister sat at attention on the table beside her as exhibit A.