by Taki Drake
The Imperial Advocate interrupted the heated discussion by saying, “Juanio, I think what Misha is saying is that right now everyone exposed to this problem believes that the legitimate military is trying to kill or abduct student Mages. If we do not find a way of both getting a fair and complete investigation of this and clear the reputation of the Imperial Military, we are asking for an explosion against the Imperium.”
The onlookers could see the Military Chief of Staff close his eyes in pain. The man asked tiredly, “Is there anyone that either of you can think of that could be accepted by the civilian side and represent the Vorcian Military?”
There was a pause as each person searched their brain for someone who would fit the requirements. Spinning through hundreds of people, no one stood out until the Emperor’s Own Captain suggested, “What about General Washick? I know he is retired, but he is still talked about in the military for his exemplary conduct and his brilliance in battle. He is also famous in the civilian side as the man whose nickname is Honor Mountain.”
Juanio blurted, “Perfect! Not only is he a thorough son of a gun, but he is one of those that calm things down rather than riling people up. What do you think, Misha?”
The Seer sighed, her eyes dark with remembered pain. Staring at her hands like there was a message written on them, she admitted, “Yes, he would be perfect. That is one man that would never betray his oath or deliberately harm innocent people.”
“I will comm him right away and see how fast he can join you. In the meantime, the teams that I have inbound right now will do perimeter protection and have strict orders to not enter the Academy grounds without a specific invitation from one of the three Advocates, or you, Misha.”
“Thank you for understanding, Juanio. Keep us informed and we will keep you up-to-date, but I would like to have all of this information under Imperial Seal.”
“On that, you will get an argument for me. I will provide my feedback to the Emperor in a closed session. I’m going to assume that the two of you will also.”
The Seer and the Imperial Advocate responded in chorus, “Yes, we will.”
The comm channel closed, and the holograph disappeared. For a moment, Caria stared at Misha, noting her pallor and her drooping shoulders. Placing a comforting hand on the Seer’s forearm, she quietly asked, “Are you going to be okay with this, my friend?”
“Yes, I will survive this just fine,” she stated quietly as Misha lifted her head to stare back at her longtime friend with the darkness of loss and regret shadowing her eyes. “If there is one thing that life has taught me, it is that some things are inevitable. For all these years, I have been too much of a coward to confront something that will now punish me for my tardiness. It doesn’t help when you know better, it just makes the hurt larger.”
Chapter 38 – Old Secrets
General Matthua Washick arrived less than two hours later, entering without fanfare and accompanied by only one noncom. A tall, spare man with iron-gray hair, Matthua stood ramrod straight and moved easily. The men and women in uniform were affected when he walked past, straightening their posture and keeping their shoulders back in their head high.
The combined forces were dealing with various levels and sources of guilt and regret. The regular Military personnel was almost crushed by a mixture of confusion and shame. Unable to explain or defend the apparent betrayal by branches of their service, they were faced with the pain and suffering that had been left behind.
When Liz had wakened from her exhausted slumber and climbed out of bed, her first sight of a regular Imperial Military uniform had triggered a PTSD episode that left the young woman sobbing and frantically trying to crawl behind a pair of Peacekeepers. When one of the EO troopers reached out to reassure the young woman, Liz lost control of her bladder and fought with such hysterical energy that the Healers were forced to sedate her.
There were enough regret and feelings of failure to go around. The Armsmaster was distressed because he had not recognized the urgency of putting up different protection and getting it into place more rapidly. The Triage Healer was bemoaning the fact that he had not informed the Armsmaster that they had moved Corda into the larger room.
Everyone was carrying their own load of guilt and doubt.
Matthua changed that. The first thing the old man did was to have two meetings with the combined protection forces. He started off the sessions by saying, “This has been a rough few days. There’s no point in either pointing fingers of blame or feeling the time with explaining how imperfect we all are.”
Looking around the room, he saw that he had everyone’s attention and continued, “we are faced with a complex and multilevel problem. It has personal as well as more Galactic implications, and we need to be conscious of both sides.” Looking around the room, the retired General knew that he had his audience’s attention, and Matthua expertly led them down the path that they needed to go.
The retired General soon had the different groups melding their work with increased efficiency. Establishing an Office of Investigation, Matthua made sure that the actions taken by his group were totally open to the Academy, the Peacekeepers, and the Imperial forces.
Moving with assurance, Matthua Washick navigated the swamp of Barkin Prime politics and the concerns of the Academy with the ease of long experience. While significant changes were occurring in the staffing of the Academy, no one complained about the man’s conduct either in the scope of the investigation or personally. For many in the group, this was a significant relief.
No more did the Academy have to deal with rudeness from the military personnel or the burden of concerns about being attacked by what was supposedly their own forces. Instead, the investigation went smoothly, mostly due to an attitude of respect and teamwork, rather than the rewards that came on the discovery of substantial information.
With the assistance of T’Kini, the whole Academy had been swept for spy gear, and the results sent shockwaves down the Academy Security structure. Although the infirmary was the most densely bugged, the entire Academy was infected with listening and visual devices.
The uproar from the instructors and the Academy Advocate was explosive. When it was determined that those audio and video pickups had slithered their way into the bathrooms and locker rooms of classes and dormitories, the Headmaster was put under full arrest and an acting one was designated. To everyone’s surprise, Arthan Rezal stepped up to take the reins on that interim basis.
The elderly Protection Mage had explained, “I realized when I got involved in the battle that I have been getting bored, and that is a quick way for your brain to dry up and rattle around in your head. So I decided that this is something I could do but not permanently. After all, I’m only 142, and I still have plenty of time to kick up my feet!”
It took three days before Corda finally woke up all the way. Although Jerroy was encouraged, he still was worried about the long-term ramifications of her experiences. Liz continued to struggle with the traumas of the Winterfaire day, and there was every indication that her Magic had been changed in response to the ordeal.
Discussing everything that had gone on over beers in the Armsmaster’s quarters, Matthua, Hony, Jerroy, and Jamie Yousses, the second-in-command to PK Commander Rankev were talking about the different people and personalities that they were dealing with when Hony mentioned that he had checked out the combined set up there was designed to provide Corda, Liz, and Argah with better protection and a calmer environment in which to recover.
Matthua looked surprised and stared at his mug of beer for a moment before saying, “I just realized that I have never actually formally met or talked with the central person in this whole nexus of power shifts. What is Corda like?”
“Plucky, smart, and dedicated. Too young to be here and struggling with a childhood that is left a lot of scars,” said the Armsmaster, a contemplative expression on his face.
Jerroy set up and said, “That’s not fair. She does her damnedest and somehow kee
ps pulling miracles out of some dimensional closet. There is no way that that child should have been able to protect her friends and survived a full-grown Mages attack at the level of training she has today. Additionally, she is loyal to a fault. Once you are her friend, she’s all in.”
Matthua laughed and said, “Sounds like you two are pretty fond of her.”
Hony stared at the old General, and stated very seriously, “If I had to pick three people to go into a fight with me, and I had a choice from the entire Academy, instructors and staff and students included, she would be one of them.”
Matthua looked thoughtful, his mind wandering and his eyes shuttered. Finally, he said, “In other words, you would consider her an asset on a personal level.”
The Triage Healer added, “If we can get her to adulthood, I would extend that statement.”
Matthua quirked an eyebrow in question, and his eyes flared when Jerroy finished his statement.
“When she is grown and trained, she will be an asset to the Imperium.”
The conversation became a little more general after that, and the man talked about the progress they had made in ensuring that all the spyware had been swept out of the Academy and changes in procedures.
One of those changes was that as Corda and her two friends were released from the infirmary, they had been moved into a larger room that would be shared among the three of them. Since the Academy Security Guard had very few female personnel, the Peacekeepers had seconded a group of twelve female officers to provide a more stringent protection detail for the young women. These bodyguards would maintain tighter support, including a presence in the girls’ room, and accompany them anytime they went off Academy grounds.
The standard Academy Security would provide additional protection, but that would be present in the hallways and outside of the girls’ personal quarters. Everyone agreed that this would help, but the worry and concern did not go away. Hony thought to himself, There are just too many forces involved in this problem. It’s like standing in the middle of a hurricane.
Just then, there was a knock on the door immediately followed by the Imperial Advocate charging into the room, towing the Seer. “If I have to talk to one more political appointee with the equivalent of two left feet for brains in the next 24 hours, I am not going to be responsible for death and dismemberment.”
Misha was looking at her friend and trying not to giggle, as she said, “I just listened to Keiri hear talk with two of the Imperial Ministry heads for 45 minutes. There was absolutely positively nothing substantive said in that discussion except that if you netted it out, Caria told them to go get screwed.”
The Advocate spun on her friend and waggled her finger in the woman’s face saying, “Like we are going to lock down the Academy so that our future weapons can be preserved.”
Caria thumb down an empty seat and looked over at Hony and said, “dear! I want beer!”
Jerroy reached into the tub sitting next to his side of the couch which was filled with ice and bottles. Fishing out two of them, he expertly cracked the top off each and passed them over to the two women. Almost in unison, the two female friends took a big gulp of the beer and sighed.
“Hello, Misha.”
The Imperial Seer froze in mid-swallow when she heard Matthua’s voice. Looking wildly around the room, Misha saw his flecked green eyes focused on her face. The man had a pleasant smile of greeting, but Misha was almost overwhelmed with dread. Swallowing convulsively, the woman stumbled to her feet and said in a big rush, “I am so sorry. I just remembered there was something critical for me to finish.”
Setting the beer down, the old woman got her feet and fled out of the room and down the hall as if the demons of hell were chasing her.
Eyes wide in astonishment, the men exchanged glances before they turn to the Imperial Advocate. Kari was looking after Misha with a very sad look in her eye. The men's silent regard eventually broke her concentration, and she turned them and began to say, “I…”
Pain in his voice and confusion written all over his face, Matthua asked his burning question, “Why did she do that? Was it something I did or said?”
Her voice full of compassion, the Imperial Advocate told him, “No, it is nothing you have done or said. It is the weight of old secrets and the burden of regret.”
Chapter 39 – Investigation
Matthua continued to conduct his investigation, growing more distressed and distant as time went on. Realizing that the honorable man would not discuss the findings before the Emperor announced them, his friends tried to keep his spirits up but did not question him.
When the girls had finally been cleared by the Healers, the ordeal that they had dreaded in the debriefing had almost disappeared. Instead of exhaustive questioning by multiple groups, there was a disciplinary hearing about Hera and short sessions with Matthua’s team.
Liz was still extremely nervous about the whole process and couldn’t take a lot of comfort from the feedback that Gerald, Keve, and Ricee gave her. They tried to tell her that it was nothing to worry about, but just thinking about the debrief prompted another panic attack, and Corda and Argah spent an hour comforting their roommate.
Even their bodyguards got involved, promising that if she got too distressed, they would haul her out of the interview. When Liz realized that they meant what they said, some of her fear was reduced, but the day of the debriefing still found her wandering around at 5 AM, nervous and chewing her nails.
Finally, Corda spoke up, saying, “Liz, just control the meeting. You are panicking because you feel like you’re going to be in there and helpless. You probably think that while you are vulnerable, somebody might attack you, throwing fireballs or something.”
Mouth open in shock, the oldest roommate said in astonishment, “When you put it like that, it sounds pretty stupid.”
“Yeah, it can be, but if that’s what you’re afraid of, decide how you can handle it. Talk to your bodyguard detail and tell them if I say this, please get me out of there and then make that phrase something that is not common.”
Liz walked away with a thoughtful look on her face, and a few minutes later, Corda saw her talking to one of her bodyguards. Smiling to herself, Corda thought, It is better for her to have a plan of action than to feel helpless, like a child.
Argah didn’t seem to have any nerves about the debrief at all. When she and Corda were talking, Argah said serenely, “We did not do anything wrong. And I won’t put up with them yelling at me. If they do, I will get up and go out.”
Corda hadn’t thought about it one way or another. She did not look forward to the questioning, but she knew she had done the best she could, and whatever was going to happen was going to happen.”
Each of the girls had a private session for the debrief, and Corda walked into hers with curiosity and hope in her heart. I wonder what they are going to concentrate on. Are they going to ask me about my spells, or the people that attacked us, or even Hera? I hope they don’t expect me to really be able to explain the spells because I’m still working it out.”
The room was not large, and it held a small table at the front that seated three and a chair directly in front of that table facing the panel. Corda assumed it would be the place that she would sit.
There were clusters of chairs on either side of the room, and Corda saw that most of them were already occupied. On the right side, she saw the familiar faces of some of her teachers and the Academy Advocate, who smiled at her. On the left, all of the people seated in the twenty or so chairs were strangers. Most of them were serious-looking men in either uniform or business suits. The lone exception was a woman who looked like an older version of T’Kini, and Corda was immediately burning with curiosity, I wonder if that is someone from the other Academy, the one on Nyri? If so, why is she here?
Against that wall, there were two military men in uniforms that Corda did not recognize. Similar in appearance to the Imperial utility dress, they wore unfamiliar insignia and were sta
ring intently at her. One was an older man perhaps a bit younger than her grandmother, tall and slender, but still powerful looking. The man next to him was much younger and was staring at Corda with his eyebrows scrunched into a frown.
I wonder why he’s mad at me? Corda thought to herself. Oh well, there are plenty of people mad at me because I don’t have all the answers. As long as they don’t just jump up and start shooting me, I should be all right.
Feeling a little calmer, Corda sat down and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for the debrief to start. Glancing at the people on both sides of the room, she occupied herself with imagining stories about each one. When she turned her eyes back to the group on the left-hand side, the young girl saw that there was a man staring at her in the second row, and his expression made her body shiver in revulsion. Fairly nondescript, the man was average in looks and height, with even coloring. Corda felt as if she were a hot pastry, and the man that was looking at her was starving.
Picking up her distress, one of her bodyguards came forward and bent over to whisper, “Are you all right?”
Corda answered in such a faint whisper that the bodyguard had to stick her ear almost by Corda’s mouth to hear her say, “That man staring at me with his mouth open really is frightening me. He just makes me sick, and I’m scared, Keira.”
Holding the young girl’s thin shoulders gently, the bodyguard said, “If he continues to creep you out, we will take you out of the room. Remember your safe word?”
Corda gave her a brilliant smile, her gray eyes lighting up and whispered, “Albacore!” Holding the smile, Corda felt much better and said, “Keira, thank you.” The bodyguard patted her hands and said, “Good girl. I’ll be right over there, listening.”
The knowledge that she had support from someone that was focused on her well-being brought a trace of a smile to her mouth. Buoyed by the feeling of grateful relief, Corda straightened up and looked around the room one more time. There was an explosive sound of astonishment, and Corda whipped her eyes over to where the older man in the unknown uniform had half risen out of his chair, staring at her with an absolutely stupefied expression on his face. The younger man beside him was tugging him back down to his seat as the three members of the debriefing panel walked into the room, and the session started.
