Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles 1: Wizard Defiant

by Rodney Hartman

  She seemed to mull over Richard’s answer for a few seconds. Then she thrust out her free hand and said, “I believe you, 832. If by some miracle TAC Officer Gaston Myers lets you become a wizard scout, take a hard look at the pilot whenever you’re on a shuttle. You might see a familiar face.”

  Richard gave her a strong handshake in return and said, “Good luck, 215.”

  “No,” she said. “Not 215. I’m no longer a wizard scout cadet. I’m worthy of having a name again, and my name is Ensign Elizabeth Bistos. You can call me, Liz. I know you’re still a cadet lower than a worm and not worthy of a name,” she said with a grin, “but if you did have a name, what would it be?”

  “My name would be Sergeant Richard Shepard,” he said with a grin of his own, “formally of the 43rd marine recon detachment.” Then he added more seriously, “The Academy’s system for filtering cadets is screwed up in my opinion. You’ve been in the top of the class in just about everything we’ve done during the last two years. To D.F.R. you based upon one simulation is wrong. I’d say it’s not fair, but nothing involving TAC officers is fair. But, it’s still wrong. I don’t even understand why our quads were matched against each other. My quad was in leather. Your quad was in full-body armor. The whole basis behind the simulation is for everything to be equal except for the skill of the cadets. I think someone made a mistake, Liz.”

  Liz looked at Richard a moment before answering. “Richard, I’m not a cadet anymore, so I’ll let you in on a little secret. I mean, what are they going to do to me? They’ve already kicked me out of the Academy.”

  Her comment piqued Richard’s curiosity. “What secret is that?”

  “I think the whole thing was a setup from start to finish, Richard,” she said. “We had four hundred and thirty-two cadets who were supposed to be randomly divided into one hundred and eight quads of four cadets each. I had cadets 212, 87, and 316 on my quad. All modesty aside, we were probably the four top-performing cadets in the class. You’re normally rated somewhere in the middle of the class. I personally think you could do a lot better, but I’ve always had the impression you could care less about scores.”

  Richard shrugged his shoulders at her comment.

  “In any regard,” she continued, “you were teamed with 114, 187, and 605. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good. No one gets into wizard scout training unless they’re good. But they were consistently the bottom three cadets in combat scores. What do you think the odds are that the four highest-scoring cadets would be randomly teamed together while the three lowest-scoring cadets would be randomly teamed with you?”

  “Pretty low, I guess,” said Richard.

  “Astronomically low,” Liz said. “And on top of that, my quad had full-body armor, phase rifles and grenades. Your quad had light-leather and quarter-power phase rods which were incapable of penetrating my quad’s armor. Doesn’t that seem suspicious, Richard?”

  “Well,” Richard said noncommittally, “it’s like I said. Somebody made a mistake.”

  “No one made a mistake, Richard,” Liz said emphatically. “You were setup. You were supposed to lose. Unfortunately for me, whoever set you up misjudged your combat abilities. I don’t mind telling you that when we were told you were a member of the other quad, we got very concerned. Scores aside, most of the cadets take it for granted you’re the best in the class at combat. If not the best, you’re certainly the luckiest. It was just my bad luck to get matched against you in the simulation.”

  “You were told who you would be fighting?” Richard said a little astonished. “It’s supposed to be a secret in order to simulate real combat. Who told you I was in the other quad?”

  “It was on my heads-up display,” Liz said. “I had access to full specs on everyone in your quad. The only thing I didn’t know was your exact location.”

  “Why would anyone want to stack the deck against me?” said Richard. “I guess I wouldn’t put it past TAC Officer Myers, but the quads for the simulation are determined by the central computer via the tele-network. I don’t think TAC Officer Myers has the resources to hack into the system. I know he hates me, but I doubt he hates me enough to beg, borrow, or steal the five million credits it would probably take to hire a team capable of hacking the selection program.”

  “I’ve said my piece,” Liz said, “so I’ll leave it at that. But let me give you a bit of advice, Richard, even though you haven’t asked for it. You should try to be a little friendlier with the other cadets every once in a while. They’re good people. You’ve always seemed a little standoffish. One day you may regret not having friends. They come in pretty handy sometimes.”

  Richard thought about her comment for a few seconds before answering. It was true he wasn’t the friendliest of cadets. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly, but just that he didn’t go out of his way to get to know the other cadets. If truth be known, he was probably scared to get close to people. During his short, twenty-two years of life, it seemed like every time he got close to someone, that person either died or had to leave.

  “Liz,” he continued. “I understand what you’re saying, but friends can be a liability at times. I had two good friends in my last unit, and both of them were killed in front of my eyes. Cadet 647 was a good friend during our initial training, but she got D.F.R.’d in our sixth month here.”

  “I’ve lost friends in combat too, Richard,” Liz said, “but being ‘Dropped From the Rolls’ is not the end of the world. You’ll probably see cadet 647 again someday. Almost anyone with prior military experience has lost friends. You’re no exception, and neither am I. Just because there’s a chance you could lose a friend doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let someone get close.”

  “Life’s strange, isn’t it?” said Richard. “We’ve talked more today than we have in the past two years. I’m sorry we didn’t get to know one another. I have a feeling you’d have made a good friend.”

  “I’m just D.F.R.’d, Richard. I’m not dead,” Liz said. “We were cadets together. If we ever meet again, I hope you’ll consider me a friend and buy me a drink. You owe me, after all, for getting me kicked out of the class.”

  “I’ll buy you all the drinks you can handle, Liz.”

  Liz laughed and said, “You may regret saying that. I can handle a lot.” Then more seriously, she said, “Goodbye, Richard.”

  “Goodbye, Liz,” said Richard.

  With that, she picked up her duffle bag, turned, and walked down the hallway to the stairs. Richard continued watching the stairs long after she had disappeared from sight.

  Chapter 3 – The Inquiry

  ____________________

  Late in the afternoon, two security police came to Richard’s room. They escorted him to the commandant’s office on the far side of the parade field. It was a nice day, but the field was empty. The last of the cadets who had failed their simulation had departed earlier in the afternoon. The TAC officers had rewarded the winning cadets with a twenty-kilometer road march. Such was the life of a wizard scout cadet.

  Richard knocked on the frame of the commandant’s door. The door was already open, but no one who wanted to keep their head on their shoulder’s ever entered the commandant’s office without an invitation. The Commandant was Wizard Scout Thomas R. Jacobs. Wizard scouts had no official rank other than wizard scout. But everyone in the Academy, and even the Interstellar Fleet staff, knew where Wizard Scout Thomas R. Jacobs stood in the military command structure. He was allegedly the oldest living wizard scout at ninety-three years of age. He had been on active duty for almost seventy years. Considering many wizard scouts did not obtain more than five years of active service, the commandant’s age alone demanded respect. However, his near deity status among wizard scouts came from his battle record during the fifty-two year-long Teton war. After the defeat of the Tetonian Empire, he had been assigned to his current position as commandant of the Intergalactic Wizard Scout Academy.

  “Enter,” said the Commandant.

  Richard marched int
o the office and hit a stiff brace two paces in front of the small field desk. He did not salute. Wizard scouts rarely saluted. The commandant’s office was Spartan to say the least. The Commandant did not believe in fluff or comfort. Besides the commandant’s desk and chair, the only other furniture in the room was a high-carbon, plastic chair located in front of the desk. Out the corner of his left eye, Richard noticed TAC Officer Gaston Myers standing at parade rest against the wall.

  “Sir! Cadet 832 reporting as ordered, sir!”

  The Commandant looked up from the computer display embedded in his desk long enough to acknowledge Richard’s existence. Like all wizard scouts, he appeared the same age as the day he’d gotten his DNA baseline taken. Richard guessed the commandant’s apparent physical age was in the late twenties. Mid-twenties to early thirties were pretty typical physical ages for wizard scouts. But with an actual age of ninety-three, Richard knew the Commandant was nearing the end of his life span. A wizard scout’s self-healing could maintain youthful looks, but it couldn’t stave off eventual death. Richard had a feeling the Commandant would remain at his post until his last breath unless he was removed from office by the higher ups. But, with the commandant’s war record and political friends, Richard doubted that would ever occur.

  “Take a seat, 832,” said the Commandant. He had a short, gruff voice. Instead of being intimidating, it gave the impression of someone who took care of business quickly and fairly.

  Richard sat down while keeping a stiff brace. He could feel the eyes of his TAC officer drilling into his back. Richard knew he would hear about even the slightest departure from proper military protocol later. Assuming, of course, he was fortunate enough to leave this office still a wizard scout cadet. Richard wasn’t sure he would be.

  “Let’s set the rules, 832,” said the Commandant. “This is an inquiry. It’s not a court martial, so we will do away with any legal, mumbo jumbo. However, you may stop answering questions at any time and request legal counsel should you desire. My only other rules are that you answer honestly. Also, I want you to forget for the time being you are a wizard scout cadet. That means I don’t want to hear two ‘sirs’ when you address me, and I want you to relax in that chair. Your back is so stiff I could bounce a plasma round off it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said forcing himself to drop the first ‘sir’. He tried relaxing his back a little, but he failed miserably. His half-hearted attempt to relax was even more uncomfortable than his stiff brace had been.

  The Commandant watched Richard’s attempt to relax. He looked like he wanted to smile. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I guess that’s about the best we can hope for with your TAC officer burning holes in your back. Be that as it may, we will proceed. Margery will be recording the proceedings, and TAC Officer Myers is here as a witness. Is that acceptable?”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said. Margery was the commandant’s battle computer. Richard noticed the commandant’s battle helmet sitting on the corner of his desk. Margery would be embedded in a hardened, brerellium-steel shell deep inside the battle helmet.

  “TAC Officer Myers,” said the Commandant. “You have made a charge of attempted murder against cadet 832. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s a very serious charge,” said the Commandant. “Present your evidence?”

  “Sir,” said TAC Officer Myers, “a review of the simulation’s video files will show that cadet 832 removed the isotopic battery from his phase rod and placed it on the neck armor of cadet 215. He was preparing to detonate the battery with a phase rifle when we declared an emergency and stopped the simulation.”

  “I have already reviewed the video file,” said the Commandant. “Your charges against cadet 832 also include a lesser charge of cheating.”

  “Yes, sir,” said TAC Officer Myers. “During the course of the simulation, the technicians detected a use of Power to perform telekinesis on a rock in order to distract cadet 215. Since cadet 832 has not been trained in telekinesis, the technicians believe he must have smuggled a mind booster into the test environment. I concur.”

  “Was any unauthorized equipment found on the cadet?” asked the Commandant.

  “No, sir,” said TAC Officer Myers. “However, the technicians have not yet completed a full sweep of the simulation area. They should be finished by 2100 hours tonight.”

  “Cadet 832,” said the Commandant. “You have heard TAC Officer Myers’ account of the incident. Is it accurate?”

  “Sir,” Richard said. “TAC Officer Myers’ account is partially accurate. I was preparing to detonate part of an isotopic battery on the neck seal of cadet 215’s armor when the simulation was stopped. It would have cracked the seal on the cadet’s armor, but it would not have seriously injured her. As to the lesser charge, I did not smuggle any unauthorized pieces of equipment into the simulation area. Nor did I break any test rules during the course of the simulation.”

  “The detonation of even a small portion of an isotopic battery can be deadly,” said the Commandant. “Are you saying your technical skills are so high that you can accurately judge to the milligram the amount of battery required to crack the seal without injuring the person inside? Were you somehow connected to the tele-network and receiving detailed specifications from the central computer?”

  “No, sir,” Richard said.

  “Then explain,” said the Commandant. “Otherwise, I will have no recourse except to recommend a court martial.”

  Richard hesitated a moment before answering. He was getting into a grey area. A misstep would get him kicked out of the Academy at the least or send him to the military prison on Diajor at the worst. All cadets were connected to a Power reserve else they would not have been selected as a wizard scout cadet. However, it was unusual for cadets to display uses of their Power before receiving training. It happened. But it was unusual.

  “Sir,” Richard said. “I saw the amount of energy stored in the portion of the isotopic battery that I broke off and placed on cadet 215’s armor. I saw how much energy it would take to crack the seal without causing injury to the cadet.”

  “Wh-” began TAC Officer Myers from behind Richard. A stern look from the Commandant cut him off.

  “I see,” said the Commandant. “Are you claiming you are a diviner?”

  A diviner was a rare type of wizard scout who specialized in manipulating Power links. Their abilities allowed them to ‘see’ the Power in objects as well as the Power links and the energy flows between objects. Only one out of a thousand wizard scouts were diviners, and it normally took years of post-Academy training to develop their skills to a useable level.

  “I do not claim anything, sir,” Richard said. “I am merely saying I was able to determine the size of the battery required to break the seal on the armor based upon what I could see.”

  “TAC Officer Myers,” said the Commandant. “You look like you’re bursting to say something. Out with it.”

  “Sir,” said TAC Officer Myers. “Cadet 832’s records do not indicate a potential for diviner abilities or any other advanced skills. Additionally, with the possible exception of combat training, his scores during the past two years of pre-Academy training will show cadet 832 barely meets the minimum required to stay in wizard scout training. As the Commandant knows, it would take years of diviner training to obtain the proficiency level required to accurately determine that a broken-off piece of isotopic battery would be non-lethal.”

  “Cadet 832,” said the Commandant. “If you had any indication of diviner abilities, it should have been listed on your application for the Intergalactic Wizard Scout Academy. When you volunteered for wizard scout training, the members of your review board undoubtedly drilled you. They would have documented every nuance of your abilities that you had ever noticed during your life. Did you fail to tell them about an ability to see Power links?”

  Again, Richard felt as if he was on the edge of a very dark pit with a bottom that could only be his doom. He’d know
n things were different for him, but he’d never mentioned it. He really did want to be a wizard scout, and he hated to stir up trouble.

  “Sir,” Richard said. “I never filled out an application for the Academy, nor did I volunteer for wizard scout training. Additionally, I was never reviewed by a board or anyone else. My commander called me into his office two years ago and told me I had orders to report for pre-Academy training. I was escorted by security onto a space destroyer heading for Velos that very afternoon. I was put into deep sleep immediately upon boarding. I woke up two months later in a shuttle just as it was landing at the pre-Academy barracks. Other than a Power reserve test that first day at pre-Academy, I have never been tested or questioned about any skills or abilities.”

  The Commandant looked past Richard. “TAC Officer Myers. What does cadet 832’s application and records indicate about his abilities?”

  “Sir,” said TAC Officer Myers. “Cadet 832’s records prior to his assignment to the pre-Academy are restricted access. I am unable to affirm or deny cadet 832’s claims. I can verify that his Power reserve test upon assignment to the pre-Academy shows he has the smallest Power reserve of any previous or existing wizard scout cadet.”

  Ignoring Richard, the Commandant said, “Didn’t you think it strange a cadet’s records were restricted access?”

  “Yes, sir,” said TAC Officer Myers, “but I assumed he had political backers who had used loop holes to get him into wizard scout training. His Power reserve test meets the minimum requirements, but a standard review board would never have approved him for the Academy.”

  “Hmm. We’ll soon see,” said the Commandant. “Margery, pull up cadet 832’s application and previous testing records. Are there any indications of diviner abilities?”

  “Unable to comply, Thomas,” said a soft, feminine voice out of the battle helmet’s external speakers. “Access is restricted.”