War Mage Chronicles- Part One

by Charles R Case

  Admiral Franklin, a man in his mid-sixties with a neatly trimmed white beard, regarded the cat. “And you say that this familiar,” he looked down at his own tablet, “Alister, is no normal cat, but a conduit for the power you’ve harnessed in becoming a War Mage?”

  “That’s right, sir. The spell is extremely difficult, and new evidence from one of the cores we recovered suggests that the ability to cast this spell is somehow genetic in nature; though the details of those genes are, unfortunately, not on the core. The important thing is that my abilities as a mage have escalated. According to the records of the Ancient Humans, a War Mage was like an army unto their self, and that was all possible because of…” She hesitated as the word ‘pixie’ was stricken from her mind. “Creatures like him,” she finished, resting her elbows on the table and giving Alister a smile. He rolled his eyes at ‘creature’, but he knew the restraint she was under.

  It must be part of the contract Alister mentioned when we met in the Aether. I really need to talk to him. Tonight, she thought, playfully pulling on the tip of his tail. He gave her a dirty look before sitting up straight, ignoring her pestering.

  “I just want to be clear. You’re telling us that, because of this spell you found in a schoolbook, you are now able to take on an entire army? I find that hard to believe, Captain,” a female admiral with her hair in a severe bun said with a smirk.

  Alister looked at the woman and flipped an ear in irritation.

  Sara suppressed a smile. “With all due respect, Admiral, you have the reports. You have the video from a dozen Aether suits. I can pull this building down around us, if you would like a personal demonstration,” she offered snidely, regretting the flippant comment immediately.

  Admiral Franklin frowned. “Despite Captain Sonders’ ill-advised offer of a demonstration, the footage does not lie, Admiral Smith. It is not unreasonable to think there is a type of mage we have not heard of, or a set of spells the Elif don't know about.” Admiral Smith gave a conceding nod, and Admiral Franklin turned back to Sara and Boon. “Ensign…” he checked his tablet once more, “Boon. What is your impression of this union between Captain Sonders and Alister?”

  Boon looked up from the tablet, blinking a few times, as the color drained from her face. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, better for showing the rising flush of her skin at her sudden involvement in the proceedings.

  I’m just supposed to be Sara’s secretary for this meeting!

  After a strangled swallow, she cleared her throat. “Sir, to be honest, I had no knowledge of the union until after the battle of Colony 788. But I have to say, the things the captain was capable of were nothing less than amazing. You have the reports, but seeing the wreckage left behind after her attack on the Teifen carrier and their ground troops…” She trailed off in thought. Coming back to herself after a moment’s reflection, she continued. “Sirs, to ignore the possibility of a working union with the familiars is folly. We are facing an un-winnable war, and we are going to need all the help we can get. Right now the only defense we have against the Teifen and Galvox is that they don’t know where Earth is; if they ever found out, we would be extinguished in less than a day. Humans are short-lived and slow breeders, on the galactic scene, but we dominated the galaxy for thousands of years. It seems pretty obvious that the War Mages made that possible. It took the combined forces of three empires to take us down. That tells me we have an ace up our sleeve, and, to be honest, if we don't play it, we may as well give up now and save the ammunition. Sir.”

  Sara's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. Boon, normally so reserved and quiet, had broken the problem down perfectly. They needed the United Human Confederation to adopt the idea of creating War Mages; even if they could only find a few dozen on Earth, they would have a huge advantage.

  The admirals sat back, each officer quietly contemplating Boon’s words. Then they leaned in and talked amongst themselves for quite a while. They seemed to be torn about what to do with this unexpected development. Normally Sara would be concerned that they would try to study Alister, and any like him they could summon, but she knew there was nothing the Navy could do to the pixies.

  Pixies only show themselves to their summoner, and after that, the two become inseparable. The Navy can’t just catch one and study it with no consequences, Sara thought, relieved that the pixies would be safe. And no War Mage would ever give up their Familiar. This is an all-or-nothing move, and the admirals know it. They’re just worried about not being in control, about putting their hopes in a nuclear option with a will of its own. She understood where they were coming from, but she still hoped they’d make the right call.

  Admiral Franklin cleared his throat. “Captain Sonders, you have sent all the information you have on the familiars—and the process for obtaining them—to Naval Intelligence, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. I have given them the spellforms and all the notes I have taken on the subject. My sister, who helped with the creation of the spellform, has sent her reports as well. They have everything they need.”

  “Good. We’re going ahead with the project. Ensign Boon is right: we need every edge in the coming conflict. The Elif leaving to defend their home system has left us with a gaping hole in our own defenses, but the core you have brought us will go a long way in filling it. We are already shifting production to the new designs, and upping the schedule for the second and third fleets, and a few surprises will be coming out of the printers in a few days; I just hope it’s fast enough.” The old man referred to his tablet once again. “Captain Sonders, I understand you have requested to take some leave while the Raven undergoes its testing, is that right?”

  “Yes, sir. I need a little time to come to terms with my new power and the responsibilities that come with it. I wish to serve at my best, sir, and I don't think I’ve given myself enough time to adjust,” Sara admitted, arranging her face to convey seriousness and loyalty.

  The admiral nodded. “I can understand your desire to become better, Captain. Be sure to stay close to your comms; I’m sure there will be many questions for you in the coming days.”

  Sara stood, making a quick hand motion for Boon to do the same, and they both saluted. “Yes, sir. I’ll be at your disposal, sir. Thank you.”

  She turned and started down the aisle of empty seats, toward the back of the room and the double doors that led to freedom. Alister was on her shoulder before she’d gone two steps, Boon right behind them.

  Before she could open the door and step out, Admiral Smith called out for her. “Captain?”

  Sara cringed slightly, but turned and smiled at the elderly lady. “Yes, ma’am?”

  Smith narrowed her eyes slightly in consideration before asking, “Could you really pull this entire building down?”

  Her question caught Sara, and the other admirals, off-guard. The surprise on their faces was replaced with questioning stares, and Sara realized they wanted to know the answer as well.

  “Easily,” she said without hesitation.

  Chapter 8

  Two days of endless talks and debriefings awaited Sara and Boon when they landed at the capitol building in Hawaii. For two days, they watched footage and explained decisions, and—while never actually having to—justified Sara’s new powers. At the end of the two days, the only thing the captain was sure of was that the UHFC was very nervous.

  Having someone who could literally take out an army under the command of someone who could not was a dynamic they had no experience with. While Sara tried to convince them that she would follow orders, she knew there would eventually be someone who would not.

  Sara had talked with Cora right before getting on the tram. After a day and a half of scientists who had no clue what was happening trying to tell them what was happening, Cora said the tests were finally getting started. The Raven was making its first test warp with the core in a few hours. Sara wished her luck.

  Boon shaded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun, as she and Sara steppe
d out of the tram that had brought them down the mountain from the capitol complex on the side of Mauna Kea.

  Sara handed her a spare pair of sunglasses. “Here, I figured you’d forget to bring some,” she said, putting on her own pair of silver-rimmed aviators. Boon quickly followed suit, and Sara had to smile at the too big glasses on her small face.

  “Come on, let’s find you some that fit properly. I have a feeling we’re going to need them over the next few days.” Sara tightened the straps of her backpack and headed for a line of shops on the edge of the square outside the tram station.

  They were both dressed as civilians: tee shirts, blue jeans, and, in Sara's case, a white knit hat that she could stuff her fire-engine-red hair into to make herself a little less conspicuous. Boon had opted for a ballcap, with the adjustable snaps in what Sara thought of as the ‘child-sized’ position. She had pulled her ponytail through the hole so that it bounced around her shoulders as she walked. Each of them carried a backpack containing a few changes of clothes, their arm tablets, and some metal water bottles strapped to the side. A few weeks ago, Sara would have wanted to bring a gun, just to be safe; now she brought a cat instead, and felt much more comfortable about it.

  They stepped up to a kiosk where a young woman sat inside, playing on her tablet. The entire cart was covered in sunglasses. Boon took off the too large pair and began trying on various styles—none of which, Sara noted, were aviators.

  Sara loved her aviators, but she knew they weren’t for everybody. She crossed her arms as Boon tried on pair after pair and checked herself in the mirror. Alister poked his head out of Sara's backpack and rested his paws on her shoulder, watching Boon with interest.

  “So, how do we know where to look?” Boon asked, trying on her fourth pair of glasses, then going back to the previous ones and checking them again.

  “Right now, we don’t. I’ll find out tonight, after I go to bed,” Sara said, reaching up to scratch Alister's chin. They had finally made plans to meet in the Aether for the second time. “First I want to get us a hotel, then we can go to the beach. This will probably be the last opportunity either of us has to relax for a long while.”

  “Okay.” Finally choosing the pair she liked best, Boon reached over the counter and pressed her thumb to the payment pad. It scanned her identity, and the price was deducted from her account.

  The economy of Earth had changed quite a bit, if Sara was to believe her dad. In the old days, people had to work for basic survival; now they only worked for luxuries. Everyone’s housing and food and medical care was provided for free, and Earth was no longer in the resource game. With the molecular printers, an asteroid could be towed in and broken down to its elements, then reassembled into anything—food, clothing, buildings, starships. Now people only worked if they wanted something more. The population used to be divided into ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’… now there were just ‘haves,’ and nobody suffered for it; there was plenty to go around.

  “What do you think?” Boon asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she looked up at Sara, showing off her choice. She had picked out a pair of black plastic frames with oversized black lenses. She looked like a fabulous bug.

  Sara smiled. “Marvelous, darling. Simply marvelous,” she complimented, rasping her voice a little to sound like she was from the golden age of cinema.

  Boon flashed a smile then turned to look down the street that headed toward the beach. “Where did you want to get a room?”

  “Come on, Baxter told me about a little place he stayed the last time he was on leave,” Sara said, starting down the wide avenue that was full of tourists on day trips.

  “Baxter, huh?” Boon asked playfully, but Sara acted like she didn't hear.

  Am I that obvious?

  They passed many glass-windowed storefronts, lining the main road. Boon had to scoot out of the way of several people when something caught her eye and she stopped watching where she was going. Eventually, Sara noticed that Boon had disappeared completely, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around for her. She spotted the small woman standing in front of a boutique shop, her thumbs tucked into the straps of her backpack and her mouth hanging open as she stared into the window.

  Sara backtracked, fighting the current of people, until she was beside the girl. “See something you like?” she asked sarcastically, then looked in the window.

  It was a dress shop. ‘Handmade, classic dresses! Made to order’ the graphic on the window read. Sara leaned back and saw the name of the shop. ‘Mr. Green Jeans’—despite a total lack of jeans on display in the front window.

  “It’s beautiful,” Boon murmured, leaning in so close to the window that her nose nearly touched the glass.

  Sara looked past the graphic to see what had grabbed Boon’s attention, and wondered how sheltered the poor girl had to have been, raised on that compound with her family. She was looking at a dress. A simple, sleeveless, skater dress.

  “The color is amazing,” Alicia said, nearly drooling.

  Sara had to look around to be sure she wasn’t the butt of some elaborate prank. “It’s blue,” she noted, cocking an eyebrow.

  “I know, isn’t it pretty?”

  “You know your uniform is blue, right?” Sara asked, still not sure this wasn’t a setup.

  “I know, but it’s not the same,” she almost whined.

  “Don't you own a dress? I mean, you have to own a dress; every girl has at least one dress,” Sara pressed, cocking her head to the side. Alister bumped his forehead against her ear and purred at her closeness. She reached up and scratched his chin in acknowledgment.

  “No. Where I grew up, everyone wore white pants and shirts. Divinity’s Light preached that no one should stand out, so they took away everyone’s individuality,” she explained, not looking away from the dress in the window. “When I left, I immediately joined the Navy, and they provided all my clothes. These jeans and a few pairs of shoes are the only clothing I’ve ever bought. Even this tee shirt is Navy-issued.”

  Sara rolled her eyes, grabbed the shoulder of Boon’s tee shirt, and dragged her through the store’s open door. Boon was stumbling along behind her until she got her feet under herself and was able to pull out of Sara's grasp.

  “What are you doing?” Boon hissed, half-hiding behind Sara.

  “Making you try on the dress,” she said, waving to the young woman working a handheld stitching machine behind the counter.

  The boutique was filled with bolts of cloth of all different patterns, and had that smell that lingers when there’s just a little too much dust in the air. Three mirrors stood around a low platform where, Sara guessed, a customer would have her measurements taken.

  “I can't afford that,” she argued, glancing at the dress on display.

  The woman waved back to Sara and set down her work in progress, then came around the counter and headed their way.

  “What do you mean you can't afford it? You’re a fucking officer in the Navy. I mean, a low-ranking one, but still. How do you not have money? Everything is provided for you, we don't sell anything on the ship, and you just told me the only things you’ve ever bought were some shoes and a pair of jeans,” Sara recounted, looking down at Boon’s red face.

  “I bought a hover bike,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as she smiled blankly at the approaching woman.

  “A hover bike? Seriously?” Sara marveled at this whole new side of the normally-reserved woman.

  “Yeah. I’ve always wanted one, and I found a shop that does them up custom. I’m too small for one off the salesroom floor.”

  “A hover bike?” Sara asked again. She couldn't picture Boon racing around on one of the death traps. Now she was sure this was an elaborate prank. “Why?”

  Boon gave her a puzzled look. “Because they’re awesome.”

  “Hi, what can I do for you?” the saleswoman asked in the overly polite, customer service manner.

  Sara smiled and pointed at th
e blue dress in the window. “Is that for sale?”

  “Oh, yes,” the young woman said, brushing back some mousy brown hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I normally make dresses to order, but I do have a few in stock.”

  She led them around a stand full of rolls of cloth to a rack on the wall filled with dresses of various designs. It looked like she just made whatever struck her fancy, because no two garments were alike—or from the same decade, it seemed. She slid a section to the side, revealing a copy of the blue dress from the window.

  “It’s one of my most popular designs, so I always have a few on-hand in different colors,” she explained, showing both a red and a yellow version. “Would you like to try it on? It may be a little short on you, but you look like you have the legs to pull it off.”

  Sara reddened slightly at the compliment. “Actually, it would be for my friend, here,” she said, pushing Boon out in front.

  The woman’s eyebrows rose, and she said, “Oh, well then, I may have to take the hem in just a bit. Come with me, dear,” she said, guiding the stunned Boon to a curtain and pulling it back to reveal a changing room. “Slip it on and come out so I can see about adjustments.”

  Boon stumbled into the changing room, and the woman slid the curtain closed.

  This woman knows how to get a sale. Sara smiled. “So, are you Mr. Green Jeans?”

  The sales associate laughed. “Oh, that. Well, I started out making designer jeans, but got bored with it and switched to dresses. I kept the name because it was such a hassle getting the sign up on the building in the first place. Oh, I think she’s ready. Are you decent?” she asked the curtain.

  “Um, I can’t reach the zipper.”

  The woman whipped back the curtain and revealed a barebacked Boon, who yelped and clutched the front of the dress to her chest. “Let me help you out with that, darling,” she offered, deftly zipping the dress before Boon could even move. “Come out and take a look at yourself in the mirror.”