The Cadre Files (Vorcian Imperial Chronicles Book 1)

by Taki Drake

  After reflection, the noncom presented Major Burns with the Intel he had been provided when he and the lieutenant had spoken to the Einsville Council. His terse explanation had the senior officer nodding in understanding.

  Thanking the noncom, Burns carefully noted the source of the briefing material and promised to follow up with those council members. Feeling that he had finally been able to do his duty, Sgt. Ted Dreyer was content.

  The base had been warned that there were several shuttles en route from the orbiting battleship. Additional forces and a bevy of very senior officers were included in the passenger manifest.

  As the assembled forces waited for the shuttles’ arrival, Sgt. Dreyer could see the remaining platoon troops approaching the base. They were heavily laden and straining to move quickly. A small group of three had separated from the platoon and was headed directly for what had been the command building. Leading the way was Lt. Marcos, uniform spotless and body posture confident.

  He arrived moments before the first shuttle touchdown. Spying Dreyer, the young officer demanded, “What the hell is going on, and why did you not inform me of the need for my attendance sooner?”

  Before the noncom could respond, Maj. Burns intervened, “As I am sure that you remember, lieutenant, Sgt. Dreyer and his men have been seconded to my command. It would have been inappropriate for him to continue to report to you. Both your expectation and your demand are unacceptable.” He continued, “I also find it interesting that you apparently have forgotten how to salute a senior officer.”

  The flustered young man immediately snapped to rigid attention and saluted. Forcing the junior officer to hold the salute until he responded, the major stared briefly into his face before returning the salute.

  Having made his point, Major Burns turned to Sgt. Dreyer and said, “The Admiral has specifically asked for your presence at his briefing session, Dreyer. Why don’t you accompany me, while we leave the lieutenant to settle his men.”

  As Ted followed the senior officer toward the command center, he saw Lieut. Marcos standing, stunned.

  While the unpleasant confrontation had been taking place, the shuttles had landed, and their passengers had filed in for the meeting. Walking into the briefing room at the restructured command center, Ted was surprised to see a packed room of senior officers.

  It appeared to the overwhelmed man that the chamber was stuffed with high-ranking officials from every one of the Imperium military forces. ImpMEC had representatives of the Navy, the Explorer group, and the Marines. While they were impressive enough, there was a black-uniformed general from IMPIntel as well as a heavily decorated woman in the garb of the diplomatic corps.

  The next two hours were a blur of questions and answers, requests for Ted’s thoughts and demands for map locations, and justification for the previous action. He would have possibly folded under the intense scrutiny and questioning, but only moments after he had entered the room an unexpected ally appeared.

  The noncom would not have been aware of her presence behind him, but for the respectful silence that greeted her entrance into the chamber. The Admiral was the first to speak, “BattleMage Devlin, you do us much honor in your attendance.” Welcoming comments tumbled out of the mouths of the other men, like pearls offered in worship, accompanied by the looks of profound honor and respect.

  The woman in diplomat’s garb walked over and pulled Corda into a bear hug. Ted could barely hear the words of greeting and personal pleasure. That didn’t prevent him from understanding both the depth of the two women’s friendship and the long time that the friendship had endured.

  Corda - no, Imperial BattleMage Devlin - glanced around the room commandingly. She laid a proprietary hand on Ted’s shoulder, saying, “I knew that the capable Sgt. Dreyer would answer your questions, but I thought I might fill in some of the pieces that he was missing if needed.”

  The looks directed at the sergeant changed, going from an acceptance of his presence as a source of information to acknowledgment of him as an individual. At the pit of his stomach, Ted was nervous about the attention but found himself appreciating the change in how these people that he respected were now looking at him. He could tell that in their eyes he was now someone considered worthy of sponsorship by one of the top Imperium players. It was a thrilling yet frightening experience for the noncom. And totally unexpected.

  The session was draining. Ted had been able to answer most of the requests and felt that he had represented the activities accurately. Major Burns had contributed his input as to the situation and subsequent actions during the time that his EG troops had been on the planet.

  The noncom was amazed to hear how the base had detected the emergence of the enemy assault force, relying on the monitoring setup by Alana and Dorothy. He cringed as the BattleMage recounted the waves of attack, detailing the desperate efforts of the skeleton group of defenders to repulse the hordes of Centrax.

  Only the unexpected firepower of a Mage capable of throwing mass spells of destruction, coupled with the technology and skill of the sniper and armor specialist, kept the camp from being overrun. Ted now understood the change in dynamics that he saw among the defenders when his small group had finally reached them.

  In the heat of shared battle, in an almost hopeless situation, they had become a team. Ted hoped that he and the few men in the duty squad had made progress toward that integration also. It was evident that the Mage and the cadre of support people that had defended the camp considered him and his small force as part of their team.

  Almost in passing, Sgt. Dreyer heard that Lt. Marcos had been sent off to a new station. It was a cold world, newly settled. The officer would be in charge of the small base there but would be required to work carefully and closely with the civilian settlement personnel. Having to deal with different duties and responsibilities might teach the young officer alternate ways of dealing with people and change how he thought of others.

  As Ted hurried off to brief his men on their new duties in support of the special logistics group, he thought to himself, There is a lot of attitude adjustment going on around here.

  Introduction to Heart of Stone

  Corda, the BattleMage, has resigned from the service of the Emperor and decided to take her team to form an active investigation group. The change from military to civilian life is proving to be a bit challenging. Different dynamics, lack of defined processes are just a few of the issues.

  Picking out an office should not be difficult, right?

  Wrong!

  Heart of Stone

  By Taki Drake

  Chapter 1 – New and Strange

  Looking around the room, the woman felt a sense of total dislocation. A random observer would not have understood her confusion. It looked like a totally normal office, with subdued carpeting and pleasant, but neutral paint. There was a fair amount of light in the room, even at this early morning time. It’s just that she felt so strange to be standing there. Just standing.

  Corda could not wrap her mind around how she felt. It was as if she were covered by an insulating blanket, keeping her experiences away from her skin. Sounds seemed a little deadened, and the images around her were either too bright or shadowed. I wonder if this is what shock feels like, she thought to herself.

  It hadn’t been that many days since she and her team had been in a war situation. They had been fighting for their lives, dealing with blood, explosions, and the strong likelihood that they would not survive. For so many years, the BattleMage had armored her heart in a protective shield of stone so that the constant stress and loss did not break her apart.

  That had all changed, and the abrupt change in circumstances and location left the BattleMage feeling unsure of herself. To go from the immediacy of conflict to civilization was disorienting.

  Although Corda and her cadre had worked for a civilian contractor for the military after Rabican, they had never been totally separated from the familiar structure. The time spent working for LogiconX ha
d been a transitional step, but as a group, they had decided to take another, even significant stride.

  Corda was now standing in a civilized city, one where the majority of people had never seen death, had never been in mortal fear. It was a different time and a different place.

  The BattleMage was not sure she belonged here.

  There was a slight creak behind her. Instantly, battle instincts flared, and habit took over. Her left hand stretched open, and she began to gather her magic in a BattleMage’s automatic response to an unknown threat. Her right hand scrabbled at her waist, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. As the woman started to spin in place, the familiar aroma of hot coffee and warm donuts caused her to pause.

  Releasing her will with a deliberate action, the BattleMage completed her turn and smiled at the immensely tall woman standing there.

  “You know one of these days you could end up being fried when you sneak around me like that,” the Mage said.

  “I know I’m safe when I am carrying donuts.”

  “Well, I guess it depends on what sort of donuts you have.”

  The two women smiled at each other with the ease of long familiarity and shared experiences. The smiles were unforced, although both BattleMage and Armorer had mixed emotions. The warmth of their friendship was like a banked fire, one that never needed more fuel.

  Corda and Dorothy had nothing to prove to each other. Both of them at the pinnacle of their field, they did not feel threatened by the other person’s abilities. Confident in their own skins, each woman had made a private vow to face their new life and new experiences with an open mind.

  Of course, they were dealing with the shock of moving into this next phase of their life. When Corda had made her decision to leave the service to which she had devoted her life, there had not been one split second of hesitation before Dorothy announced that she would follow her friend into the unknown territory of civilian life.

  This did not mean that they didn’t have doubts or regrets. However, experience had taught them that sometimes wounds need to have some time to heal. The feelings they had were too raw, the pain too new for anything more right now. The responses and automatic behaviors that they had would need to be evolved from that of a war zone and readjusted for civilian life. There was no attempt to lie to themselves on what they faced, but both women felt better for meeting it together.

  Any emotion that they were suppressing could be hauled out later, examined in the privacy that they each craved. Perhaps, at a later time, they could discuss it, but for right now, the two women were just content to be with each other.

  I just need to get over the dangerous ground as quickly and smoothly as I can. I can’t take time to worry about anything right now. Perhaps later, it won’t feel like my heart is made of stone, Corda thought to herself.

  Corda Devlin, Imperial BattleMage Primus (retired), smiled at her longtime friend, Dorothy Coleman, Master Armorer (retired). Granted, the shorter woman needed to tilt her head up to smile into the face of her friend since Dorothy was well over seven-foot tall, nearly two feet taller than the Mage.

  I could look at this as if it were part of a morning exercise ritual. You never know when it will be essential to be flexible, Corda thought to herself before speaking.

  “What brings you out so early this morning? I would’ve thought that you would have chosen today to sleep in a little bit.”

  “After so many years of getting up before the crows, I couldn’t sleep. I also knew that you would be in here looking around and obsessing,” answered Dorothy.

  “Really?” the BattleMage asked.

  Both women were surprised when a voice answered them from beside the door. “Really. We should all know by now that Corda always has to obsess about things. Personally, I’m not complaining because that saved our lives many times, but it’s a very predictable pattern.”

  The speaker was an older man, erect with the habit of many years in the military. He carried his cane as if it were a convenience, but a knowledgeable observer would get the impression that it could become a weapon at any time. With a face that was unmarred by the wrinkles of time, he could have been any age from 35 to 70. At the moment, however, he looked like a mischievous boy with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face.

  “George, it looks like at least three of us were in the military too long. We just can’t sleep in the morning,” Corda said. The BattleMage smiled as she accepted the cup of coffee from Dorothy and leaned over to check out the selection of donuts. George joined her, already holding his own morning drink.

  “What? Donuts? Did you save one for me?” This time the speaker was a very tiny woman. Looking like a stiff wind would blow her away without a problem, she was well below 5 foot in height and very slender in build. Her large blue eyes and tiny frame might make someone think that she was a pushover. They would have been wrong.

  Alana Meyers was an expert sniper instructor and security specialist. Her diminutive stature and elfin looks had fooled many an opponent, none twice. The expression of implacable purpose in those eyes was a broad hint that taking her less than deadly seriously was an error. To thousands of people, it had been a fatal mistake.

  Corda laughed. “Here we are before 6 AM in a totally empty office having donuts and coffee and talking about absurdities. If I wanted a case in point to illustrate the difference between military and civilian life, this would be it.”

  “You forgot about the critical fact that no one is shooting at us,” offered George. The four of them shared a laugh in commiseration and applied themselves to their morning food rituals.

  Alana was contemplating a second donut when noise from outside made the office occupants spin and face the door. Corda noticed an amusement that all of them automatically fell into combat postures. Alana had produced a lethal-looking weapon from somewhere on her body, and George was holding his cane as if he was going to slam it into whoever was coming into the room.

  Corda in Dorothy exchanged a look and shared a smile. Corda thought, We did the same thing just a few minutes ago. I wonder how long it’s going to take to break that reflex?

  At first, all four people in the room saw was the posterior of a huge man. He was backing through the door with his arms wrapped around a massive desk and breathing in slightly forced exhalations. Scuffling sounds from beyond the furniture indicated the presence of at least one other person. The room’s occupants watched in astonishment as somehow an enormous desk was maneuvered through a normal-sized office doorway.

  Clearing the entry, the men carrying the load jointly let out an explosive sigh and placed the desk on the floor. There were three of them, including one in what appeared to be a delivery company’s uniform. They had been so focused that they hadn’t known that the room had occupants. All of movers were all startled when clapping sounds from the office made them realize that they had an unexpected audience.

  “Ma’am, we didn’t expect to see you here.” The speaker was a muscled and stocky man in his early 40s. He had that sort of dependable look that one sees in very good noncoms. Which is precisely what Sgt. Ted Dreyer had been until two weeks ago. He and another NCO, Rence Alaric had chosen to follow Corda also.

  Dreyer’s experience on Corvus II with Corda’s team had led him to opt-out when his reenlistment came up. Instead of nursemaiding young officers, he had decided that he would rather be part of a trustworthy team and one that would have his back. Dreyer was still adjusting to the change in circumstances and personnel. In fact, all of them were.

  Corda thought to herself, This has to be one of the most confusing experiences of my life. Here we are all playing at being civilians, without really knowing what to do. I truly hope they are not looking to me for leadership here because I am just as lost as all of them.

  While the BattleMage had been thinking, Dreyer had paid off the deliveryman and signed the receipt for the desk. After watching the man leave with a cheery wave, the former senior NCO turned and started to explain where they
planned to put the piece of furniture.

  Their affection and respect for each other were firmly set through the crucible of battle, but until they could figure out how to function in the civilian world, they had a tacit agreement to stick to safer topics. Any coherent, long-term plan would have to wait till later.

  The conversation became general as people found innocent topics of discussion that were safe to cover while simultaneously helping them to avoid anything specific. As a group, they all needed time to adjust and find their bearings.

  They had not discussed much of anything before the movers arrived with the rest of the new office furniture and equipment, purchased the day before. Alana became quite busy installing security equipment, drafting Alaric, Dreyer, and Dorothy into helping her. Only the BattleMage and the former JAG officer were exempt.

  The hustle and bustle of Alana and her assistants concealed the pool of absolute quiet with which Corda surrounded herself. Unobtrusively, George watched the Mage with a concerned eye.

  In all of the decades that he had known her, this was the first time he had seen her with this particular expression. It was a closed-in, shuttered front that kept her feelings concealed and her friends at arms’ length. Her typically mobile face looked like it was frozen in stone and the man longed to ease the dark shadows that he saw in her eyes.

  George knew better than to push Corda on anything right now. The BattleMage would talk when she was ready, and until then, there was no prying anything out of her. His physical presence would be there to lend her support when she needed him.

  Chapter 2 - Arrangements

  It had taken the team more than three hours to get the office arranged so that it looked like a place of business. None of them were exactly sure what sort of company they were going to form. Even Corda had only a vague idea of a problem-solving, troubleshooting commercial entity that would take on jobs and perform them for a fee. Nonetheless, the cadre formed in their shared experiences had decided to stay together as a group and apply their knowledge to situations and opportunities that made sense. At least to them.