“I need you here,” he told them, and they looked at each other. It took them several minutes to note they were the oldest and longest-serving in the section.
“We’ll have our test when the first successes return. In the meantime, we need to keep our girl running.”
They snapped to attention and watched the rest of their section leave. A few minutes later, a small squad of Marines arrived.
The captain reported directly to the Chief.
“We’re here to make sure the section stays uncompromised, Commander Larkin.”
The chief inclined his head. “Thank you, Captain Moser.”
He watched as the Marines spread out to ensure that the drive section was secure, certain that they weren’t the only ones keeping an eye on their security. His expectations wouldn’t have been disappointed.
The Tempestarii maintained a careful set of sensors on every part of her shell.
John felt good. He rolled his shoulders as he went through the avatar preparation room. Combat training, huh.
He grinned as he selected medium battle armor and collected a blaster, some spare magazines, a couple of battery packs, a kukri-styled combat knife, and two pistols.
“Are you sure you’ll need all that?” Roma asked.
Her voice echoed through the avatar room, sounding slightly amused.
“Oh, yes,” he assured her. “This is Frog, Lars, and Vishlog we’re talking about. I’ll need all of this.”
“But you have magic,” she reminded him, and he chuckled.
“If there’s one thing those guys have taught me over the last few weeks, it’s that Talent will only take you so far.”
The AI smiled inwardly. She’d taken the time to review the training files, and she had to admit, Lars’ training in that area had been particularly thorough.
It was good to see John so happy with his role, even if he truly didn’t know what was in store for him. It made her want to pity the boy, but she couldn’t.
He had to learn and he had very little time to do it in.
In the meantime, though, there was one more thing she needed to do. It was a relief when he signaled that he was ready to move on.
When he appeared in the white room, he turned in bewilderment to Roma’s avatar as soon as it appeared.
“I thought I had training,” he started. “Is…has something happened?”
She shook her head. “No, John, but I have something to say to you before you begin.”
“Okay…” He regarded her a little warily.
“I wish to apologize,” she began, and he frowned.
“You do?”
“Yes. I underestimated you and did not greet you as I should have.”
“You mean that first night?”
“And your approach to the center. I…did not follow protocols.”
John shook his head and smiled slightly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You did what you thought you needed to do to keep your base safe. We’re past that now.”
Roma drew back in surprise. “But—”
“We all make mistakes, Roma. The important thing is that we learn from them. Your intention was good and you and I have things to do. We won’t let one incident get in the way of that.”
His response surprised her and she stared at him. “We won’t?”
“Well, I won’t,” he told her. “Will you?”
She studied him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I am still sorry for your lost night’s sleep.”
“It all worked out well in the end,” John told her with a grin. “I discovered where you hid the good coffee.”
“And the jam tarts,” she replied with some asperity.
He shrugged. “I’m not gonna say I’m sorry about that.”
“You will be when they run out,” she replied and faded as the white room gave way to a high-ceilinged training room.
Lars, Frog, and Vishlog were already waiting.
“You’re late,” the security head snapped, and John’s jaw dropped.
“But—”
“And I don’t take excuses,” the man added.
“I’m fairly sure you can access the system and see why,” he retorted and called the Talent to his hands as his lead instructor stalked forward.
Lars chuckled. It was not a nice sound.
“Let’s see what you’ve learned between now and RM018.”
He took a step back. “What do you know about that?”
“Well, we know you threw Vishlog off a cliff,” he informed him, and his heart sank.
So much for his hopes that they hadn’t been updated with that.
“And that you now have battlefield awareness,” Lars added as Frog tackled the boy from the side. “Not that you’ve remembered how to use it.”
John brought his glowing hands down hard on either side of the smaller guard’s head. It looked like he was clapping, but the man had gotten between his palms. The magic flared and Frog vanished.
Lars exchanged looks with Vishlog. “That was new.”
Vishlog nodded and surged forward as Lars feinted to one side.
The boy rolled to his feet and raised both palms to launch a beam of blue at the warrior as he angled himself so he could keep an eye on both of them.
The Dreth sidestepped, and Lars drew his pistol and fired.
John laughed. “Straight to the hard stuff, hey?”
He slapped a shield in front of the projectiles and deflected them back. Lars’ yelp of surprise lingered after he vanished, and he chuckled.
It matched Lars’ laughter for mischief and ended when Vishlog shot him in the head.
Still laughing, he scrambled off the floor in the white room.
“What?” he asked when Lars and Frog both glared at him. “You didn’t expect me to learn?”
“You fight much dirtier than the records indicate,” the security head observed. “What else have you done since you last trained?”
John glanced at the ceiling. “Roma, did Remy show you the fight I had with the Talents?”
“Negative, John. I will ask him to share the file.”
Seconds later, Lars’ eyes narrowed. “I see.”
The white room vanished and John had a feeling he wouldn’t like what came next. They reappeared back in the training room where a nonplussed Vishlog waited.
“No blasters,” the leader commanded and put his down near the wall. “Or pistols,” he added when John laid his blaster down but kept the smaller sidearms in their holsters.
Vishlog and Frog groaned and added their smaller weapons to the pile. When Lars didn’t add his, they all stared at him and he simply smiled.
“There are exceptions to every rule.”
The young rogue Talent nodded, and they all moved to the center of the room.
“On my mark,” the lead instructor stated, and John waited.
The three were arrayed side by side in front of him, with Lars in the center.
“Mark!” he snapped, and they moved as one.
Instead of trying to put more distance between him and his opponents, John ran at an angle and aimed for Vishlog. Frog was the smallest of them, but the Dreth was easier to hit.
The boy coated his armor with a sheen of sparkling light and drew his dagger. There was something to be said for not having to worry about killing your teammates in practice.
No holds barred meant exactly that.
The warrior sidestepped his initial attack, and John pivoted to face him. Unfortunately, that put his back to the other two, who’d altered course. He shuffled briskly to the side in an attempt to put them on his right, and Vishlog charged.
He kept moving and repositioned as he prepared to meet the Dreth head-on. At the same time, he put a shield between him and Lars and bulldozed it toward Vishlog.
Frog’s shout made him look up as the smaller man landed on his shoulders. It would have been his head, but he shifted in time to avoid that.
The shout turned into a howl
of pain when the Talent shimmering over John’s armor stung his attacker hard enough to drop him to the mat. Unfortunately, that took most of the charge he’d saved for the massive warrior.
He dropped to his knees, but the Dreth stopped before he could be tripped and lashed out with a boot. As he pulled his head back, he took hold of his opponent’s calf, wrapped his arms around it, and straightened to push the fighter back.
Unfortunately, that cost him the concentration he needed to maintain his shield, and Lars fired.
The first round pounded into John’s armor and knocked the breath from his lungs. The second round impacted but didn’t make it through, and he released Vishlog’s leg and slapped him with a wall of blue.
The third caught him in the ribs under his arm and pain followed.
Bruising, he reminded himself and turned toward the man as the fourth round hit, which was when Lars brought the second pistol into play.
This time, the boy was fast enough to raise a shield between them, even if it wasn’t one that boomeranged the rounds. The security head grinned and threw the pistols to one side.
“Now, let’s see what you’ve got.”
John moved back and tried to catch his breath as Lars closed the distance between them. As the two of them crossed the room, Frog rolled to his knees.
“Sonuva—” He stopped mid-word and raised his head to stare at a patch of light that had appeared in the center of the training hall.
Not far from where the small man knelt, Vishlog groaned, rolled onto his stomach, and forced himself to one knee. Folding his forearms across it, he raised his head to stare as well.
The young rogue Talent glanced up to see what had their attention, but Lars continued his attack. He danced forward and lashed out with both fists, and John bounced back but not quickly enough.
He took his eyes off the growing patch of light and forced himself to focus on his opponent. The man lunged and one fist drove into the armor directly above a bullet mark. The impact traveled through the weak point and John gasped.
Lars hooked an arm around the back of his neck and brought his outside knee into the boy’s ribs. When he stumbled sideways, the man followed with a tackle that brought him down onto the mat, and he pinned him in place and belted him over the back of the head whenever he saw a shimmer of blue.
“Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted,” he muttered and looked at the growing glow.
It was taller now, about man-height, with the first sign of a figure forming within.
Chapter Eight
“Take the bar,” Emil ordered and ignored the startled look he received in return.
This was the youngster’s first trip on the Tempestarii, and he remembered him from the recruiting rounds. He’d been fresh-faced, eager, and not too confident that he’d scored well enough in his engineering exam to be accepted onto her weapons team.
He still didn’t look confident, but that was because he’d never seen the bar before.
In fact, he thought and almost pitied the boy, he’s never even heard of it.
They hadn’t used the bar test in years—not for at least the last decade and a half, when they hadn’t heard from Stephanie for over ten—and the old-timers hadn’t spoken of it.
No wonder the kid looked at him like he’d gone crazy.
“Take it,” one of the Marines snapped from beside the captain, and the boy’s eyes widened.
Emil lifted the bar and the young crewman grasped it.
“What do I do now, sir?” he asked.
“Tell me, what do you think of Stephanie Morgana?” the captain asked, and the kid’s eyes lit with enthusiasm.
“She’s a hero, sir!”
The bar grew colder beneath his touch and he looked worried.
“And are you looking forward to her return?” Emil asked before the crewman could comment.
The boy gave him a startled look. “Come back?” he asked and seemed alarmed, and the bar warmed beneath his touch.
Emil looked down at the device in his hand.
“Well, that’s rather conclusive,” he muttered and signaled to the Marine on his right.
“Wait. What happened?” the kid asked.
The Marine gestured toward the door on the right, and the crewman paled.
“I failed?” he asked. “B…but why? I love this ship. I’d do nothing to harm her.”
“Wait!” one of the older hands called, and everyone stopped to look at him.
Emil turned toward the voice with an inquiring look on his face.
“Harper?”
The engineer came forward. “I think it’s just because he hasn’t…he doesn’t…” He sighed. “May I speak to him?”
The captain considered the request, then nodded.
Harper hurried forward as the Marine guided the kid to one side of the hall. A second Marine moved to intercept him and the captain spoke.
“Before you do, Harper…” He lifted the bar.
Immediately, the engineer changed course and came to stand before him. He took hold of the bar without being told to.
“Ask your questions, sir.”
“What do you think of the Morgana’s victories at Dreth?” Emil asked.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, his eyes on the captain’s face as the bar chilled to his touch.
“And Stephanie herself?”
“I am grateful to have met her and honored to have served her,” he replied, and his heart leapt at the memories the question raised.
“And her return?”
“Tell me it’s true, sir.”
The bar turned to ice in his hand, and the captain nodded as he held his hand out. Harper attempted to pass it back, but he stilled and his face turned pale.
“Uh, sir…”
Emil chuckled and signaled to another Marine, who laughed and picked up a bucket of water at his feet.
“Dip your hand in here, Chief.”
Harper submerged his hand and the bar into the lukewarm water. When he felt skin and metal separate, he lifted the bar and handed it to Emil.
“Sorry, sir.”
“That’s quite okay, Harper.” The captain gestured to where the Marine and the young weapons engineer waited beside the wall.
When he reached them, the youngster gave him a sorrowful, disbelieving look.
“I wouldn’t harm her,” he whispered, and Harper wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t,” the youth repeated.
The engineer nodded understandingly. “I know you wouldn’t, but that’s not what the test is about.”
“I wouldn’t harm Stephanie either,” the boy whispered as fiercely as Harper crouched at the foot of the wall and drew him down with him.
“Then what’s the problem with her coming back?”
“I…I don’t know what that would be like,” the young crewman explained. “She’s been gone so long and the Regime…”
“It’s a powerful beast, sure,” he told him, “but it’ll start a war anyway. We both know that.”
The kid swallowed, his face paler than before. “I know, Chief, but…”
“But what?”
“What if she starts it?”
Harper smiled, and his subordinate’s eyes widened.
“Look, son, let me tell you something about our Stephanie. You know she was born on Earth, don’t you?”
The boy nodded.
“And do you know why she left?” he asked and was relieved when the kid shook his head. “What about what she did during the war with the Telorans?”
Instinctively, the kid cast an anxious look at the lines, but the captain hadn’t yet called the alien mages for testing.
“No,” he admitted.
The chief leaned against the wall, and after a moment’s hesitation, the boy did the same.
“For one thing,” Harper began, “Stephanie never was one to start the fight, not unless she thought she had to step in to protect something or someone who needed it.”
“Like Earth?” his subordinate asked, and he wondered who he had on their homeworld. He didn’t look old enough to have anyone who would know Stephanie.
Instead of asking, he answered, “Like Earth,” he confirmed, “but also like Dreth and Meligorn. If she knew what was happening to them, she’d stop it.”
“Really? She…” The kid glanced at the Marine and lowered his voice. “She wouldn’t be mad?”
Harper snorted. “At what? Dreth? Meligorn?” He studied the boy’s face. “Us?”
The crewman nodded.
“For what?”
“For not taking better care of things while she was gone.”
The engineer laid his arm across the boy’s shoulders. “Well, she has this thing about people doing their best…”
He felt the youngster relax as he talked about the times he’d seen Stephanie deal with those who’d failed despite doing their best and what she’d done to keep her world safe.
“And she’d do it again,” he told him when he’d finished telling him about the Battle for Dreth.
“But she almost died…” the kid whispered.
“Yup,” Harper agreed, “but that’s our Steph. She feels responsible for all her people.”
“So she won’t destroy Earth?”
Harper was shocked. “Now, why would she do a thing like that?”
“Because of what they’re doing to everyone else.”
“That’s not Earth doing that. That’s the Regime and—” He raised a hand to silence the kid as he went to break in. “Steph will understand that.”
“Oh.” The young crewman glanced to where the captain was testing another crew member. “Do you think he’ll let me try again?”
“Now that you have a better idea of who you’re talking about, you mean?”
The boy nodded, “And I want my world back. My mum and dad…” His voice caught. “They keep telling me about relatives I’ve never met and I don’t know if they’ve survived. Magic runs in the family.”
He sounded almost wistful, and Harper got the impression the boy wished he could have been a mage. It was tempting to tell him that manipulating the technology in the guns was magic of a different kind but he resisted.
His subordinate continued. “They had friends, too, and they don’t know if they survived.”
Michael Anderle - [Heretic of the Federation 03] Page 12
