Tales from the Oriceran Universe: Fans Write For The Fans: Volume 1 (Oriceran Fans Write For the Fans)

by Michael Anderle

“He will live.” Kate looked at him in disgust. “The karate I used is to disable so I have time to run, not hurt someone, although I’m pretty sure he is feeling it! I could have used other moves that would have done more damage, but I know they want to question him. Hard to do that if he’s in the hospital or dead.”

  Rob groaned again and looked like he was thinking about trying to get up. He decided to stay down when a van pulled in. Sara saw who the driver was. “Looks like his ride is here.” Mary and four other Silver Griffins jumped out, and Mary looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. “Nice job, Kate. He can still talk! We’ll take it from here.” One of the witches looked at him in disgust and did something with her wand, and Rob got up and walked to the van. Mary very quietly told the girls, “That’s his aunt and she hates his whole family, so this really made her mad. She has more persuasion in her little finger than he could ever wish for. Thanks for calling. We will get back to you when we know something. I’m pretty sure his aunt will have all we need by the time we get home!”

  Chapter Nine

  The girls decided to head back to Sara’s place. They really didn’t feel like they’d enjoy themselves waiting for the information at the bar. They had just settled in when the phone rang. When Sara answered, Mary began talking. ”Okay, the box stores any magic willingly offered to it. We figured it was something like that. All we had to do was turn it upside down and dump out the necklaces. You can come and get them tomorrow. However, there were seven other necklaces in the box, and we may never know who they belonged to. The good thing is, probably the only magic stolen was the first girl’s. He thought it would give him the magic it collected, but we doubt that would have happened. However, we also have no information on who made it or how to give that girl’s magic back. He bought it from a guy in a bar. No name. Other guy said he’d used it and it worked. I’m thinking the other guy probably had no clue how it worked either and just was getting rid of what he thought was a piece of junk. That was all Rob’s aunt could get from him. She’s pretty good at what she does, so there probably isn’t anymore.

  “Anyway, as I said, come get your necklaces tomorrow. At least it’s out of Rob’s hands, and whoever else might have ended up with it. We are going to work on investigating the box. I’ll let you know if we find out anything we can tell you. Have a good night.” Mary hung up.

  “Well, I’m ready to go back out for a drink after that!” Sara grinned, “Everyone, leave your jewelry here!”

  Author notes

  Author Notes are hard! Most stories, the characters help you figure out what to write. For Notes, you have to use your own thoughts!

  When I wrote this, I was thinking about how most people in this universe were powerful in one way or another. What if someone only had a little magic? How would they use it?

  Thanks to Michael Anderle and the other authors for allowing us to use their universe.

  — Kat

  A Confluence of Metal and Magic

  By TR Cameron

  Dark magic arises in yet another city, and a new team of agents assembles to fight it.

  Combat experience: significant. Magic experience: less significant.

  Who better to lead them than no-nonsense, highly experienced Agent Diana Sheen?

  It’s a new gig in a new town with a mostly new crew.

  Sheen can count on her right-hand woman Cara Binot and not much else when it turns out there’s a jailbreak planned.

  The culprit? A seven-foot-tall, dark-magic-using demonic-seeming menace who calls himself “The Fallen.” It will take magic, guns, and a lot of luck to bring him down, especially with an unproven team backing her.

  Because reports suggest he likes fire—a lot.

  And the jail? It holds prisoners with deep wells of dark power and the ability to use them.

  Taking him out is a mission she can’t refuse.

  It’s going to be a blazing hot time as Sheen heads into the monster’s lair!

  Dedication

  For Dylan.

  A Confluence of Metal and Magic

  “I hate those pretentious bastards,” Diana Sheen groused as she entered her office and threw her briefcase at the bench by the wall. It missed, and she stared at the traitorous item while it fell, then turned to regard the other person in the room.

  The compact blonde on the visitor’s side of the stylish glass desk laughed. “You mean the oversight committee actually wants to exert oversight on us?”

  Sheen slipped into the expensive leather chair across from Agent Cara Binot and leaned back, closing her eyes. “Exactly. ‘Miss Sheen,’ they say—it’s always Miss, of course—Miss Sheen, can you explain why your division’s new location needs so much budgetary support?’” Her impersonation of the committee’s head elicited another bout of laughter before she continued in her own voice. “Why yes, Mrs. Chairperson, it’s because a new fucking realm made itself known in the not-too-fucking-distant-past, and each year more rogue elements cross over to threaten our way of life. Perhaps you could quit asking me stupid-ass questions and let me go do my job before you find the blessed Golden Triangle overrun with creatures out of legend and a damn dragon or some other bloody monster taking up residence at the gods-damned confluence, hmm?”

  “I hope you were more politically correct than that, Boss.”

  “I may have used slightly less colorful language.”

  “So, are they freezing us?”

  “That’s the best part. They know if they tried, they’d be totally screwed. We need an office in Pittsburgh, given the off-the-charts magical power base or whatever the hell it’s called here, so of course, they approved the request. They just needed to make sure to put me in my place. A farce. An absolute bloody farce.”

  “If only they knew the truth.”

  “Ha. Assuming they were capable of recognizing truth if it bit them, it would be a disaster. They can’t cope with reality, which is why they try so hard to avoid it. So, I’ll keep jumping through hoops until the time comes to tell them that they can kiss my shiny metal ass.”

  She blew out a breath and sat forward in her chair, rotating to face Binot. “So, what’s your complaint today?”

  “We need more people, including a WMW.” The government loved acronyms, and a think tank had designated those strong in magic as Witch/Mage/Wizard to avoid offending anyone. Naturally, they had succeeded in offending everyone.

  “Half the team has strong magic.”

  “Let me put it this way: right now we have the magical capacity to take down mid-range enemies, but—”

  “But we’re not facing mid-range. I get you.” Sheen sighed. “It’s ironic that we’ve got the funds to hire but can’t find the talent. What a mess.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Suggestions?”

  Binot shrugged. “If Kettner works out, we could consider more investigators from the Army’s police.”

  “And how is Kettner working out?”

  Binot checked the time and grinned. “Actually, Ninja and Glam are about to run him through the course. Wanna watch?”

  “Anything to get out of this damn office before another Washington reptile calls me. Let’s go. Fast.”

  “Three sentries in position ahead,” said the far-too-young-sounding voice of the team’s electronic ghost, Kaleigh Dornan.

  Trent Parker acknowledged with a pinky tap of the comm stud on his glove and glanced up to see the tiny drone hovering above, almost invisible in the darkened heights of the warehouse.

  Their targets were in the back corner. The rest of the cavernous space was a maze of stacked cargo containers. It was a ludicrous tactical situation, but “ludicrous” had become the new normal.

  The glasses he wore linked wirelessly to the combat computer on his belt and provided an augmented reality view of the enemy guards. He whispered, “Khan, you have number one. Kettner, run past and take the second. I’m on three. Don’t miss.” The leapfrog tactic was less than ideal, but time was a factor. “Go on my mark.” He paused to see
if the universe would provide him with any additional suggestions. It didn’t. “Mark.”

  Khan broke out of his hiding spot in the shadow of a container stack and ran for the ninety-degree angle in front of them. Kettner was two steps behind. Parker moved forward in a shuffling crouch, rifle seeking opponents above. The drone would probably identify any such threats, but redundancy was a good thing. His teammates careened around the corner. In their camera feeds, positioned in the extreme right of his glasses, he saw Khan’s triple burst drop the first opponent in a clatter of body armor.

  The second guard had overwatch on the first and fired at the same time as Kettner. The two traded shots, a controlled salvo from the Army MP and a sustained one from his foe. Kettner’s knocked the guard back, but the return volley climbed his body in a diagonal from his thigh to his chest. The big man spun to the ground, his rifle swinging free on the end of its sling.

  Parker swerved to avoid his fallen ally and engaged his attacker. He was running too fast to aim, so instead, he swung the rifle’s stock around, smashing him in the solar plexus as he passed. The guard collapsed to his knees, temporarily out of the fight, and Parker trusted that Khan would finish him. He rounded the corner to find the third foe waiting and slid to dodge the fire that was sure to be coming. His silenced weapon spat out a triple burst, hitting the enemy in the thigh, torso, and throat. The man staggered and slumped against the nearest container.

  Parker rolled up to his feet, smiled at the subdued man, and raced on. Unfortunately, the drone had not spotted the tripwire, and neither did he. When he crossed it, deafening explosions filled the maze. His body locked up and he dropped to the ground.

  Binot walked into his line of vision and knelt to gloat. “Got you.”

  He sighed. “I guess it’s true, what they say. There is a first time for everything.”

  “Unfortunately, Sheen got called away on our way down. Otherwise, she would have gotten to enjoy the sight as much as I did.” Binot hit a control on the tablet she held, and his training suit released and allowed him to move again. Trying to do so without the electronic all-clear was something a person only did once. The electroshock punishment was ferocious. He took the offered hand and pulled himself up with an audible groan. She laughed and he glared with mock fury, then dropped the act.

  “What was it?” He secured his rifle, which shot laser light instead of projectiles, setting it across his chest in the ready position.

  “Hyper-directional ultrasonic sensor. Anyone moving faster than a slow walk would have set it off.” Binot motioned for him to follow.

  “Seems impractical.” He stayed a step behind her as she walked back through the maze, releasing those still trapped by their training gear.

  “Reports are that the Oricerans deployed something similar in a recent fight, although they used spikes rather than a light show, and almost certainly magic sensors instead of tech.”

  “Ouch.” He shuddered theatrically.

  “Right? Plus, of course, the spikes were thrown by some kind of magic. Give me good old reliable and predictable gunpowder any day.”

  Dornan’s voice interrupted their chatter. “We have a problem. Boss wants you in the situation room.”

  Ten minutes later they were in what passed for an everyday uniform at the Agency, a mix of denim, sports, and tactical wear, and other personal odds and ends. Anik Khan wore the photographer’s vest that was the non-combat equivalent of the tactical demolitions gear used in the field.

  “It took you long enough,” Sheen observed with a frown as the foursome entered the situation room in a line.

  “Everybody died. Had to revive them.” The humor in Binot’s voice was unmistakable and drew a laugh from Sheen.

  “Speaking of dying,” Dornan interrupted, breaking the mood, “take a look at this.” From her position in the corner surrounded by a curve of computer monitors, she triggered the displays that covered the walls of the room. They showed an image of a skyscraper fed by one of her many drones as it circled the building. “An informant tells us the top floor houses a person of interest—a level-five bounty that calls itself “the Fallen.” She made a dismissive noise. “Stupid name.”

  “Brownstone’s not available?’ Kettner quipped.

  “He doesn’t make it to Pittsburgh all that often, it seems,” Binot replied. “That’s one of the reasons we’re here.”

  Sheen nodded.

  “Guess we’ll have to take care of this pendejo ourselves.” Parker’s voice transmitted his eagerness to engage. “What do we know?”

  Dornan replaced the uniform feed with different data routed to each monitor. On one, their target glared at them from an official-looking photo. In others, facial recognition had caught him at various activities in the city, none of them notable. Binot approached a monitor that triggered her instincts. It was a file page bearing the logo of the Oriceran consulate.

  “Holy hell. Says here that he’s telekinetic and pyro-transgenetic.”

  “What now?” asked Khan.

  “He can bind fire into shapes,” Dornan explained.

  Sheen crossed her arms. “That’s pretty fucking impressive, all right. Let me just say that I love this town and the opportunities it presents for us to preserve the common weal.” She turned to face Dornan. “So why is he suddenly too important to wait until we’re fully operational?”

  “The Oricerans gathered intel suggesting he’s planning to liberate some friends from the Cube.” The prison for the magically active beneath the north shore of the city was a closely-held secret, so his knowledge of it was troubling. That he planned to engineer an escape was a catastrophe in the making.

  “Do we have enough evidence to move?” Franklin Kettner, the investigator seconded from Army Military Police to help launch the new office, was the unit’s legal conscience.

  “It’s all on the up and up,” Kayleigh replied. “Warrants and everything.”

  “That was fast.” He smoothed his mustache with a knuckle, left side first as always. Sheen smothered a grin at the habit.

  “It pays to have friends,” she said. “Okay, any concerns before we go?”

  There were none.

  “Then get your lazy asses to the bus, people. Move.”

  The rolling command post was about three-quarters as large as a standard semi-trailer and had several skins that could deploy at the touch of a button. Currently, it was pretending to be an auto parts delivery vehicle. It had inconspicuous bulletproof armor all around, and the front third could expand to provide more room.

  The back two-thirds was a mobile armory. Lockers occupied one wall, and a folding bench latched down on the opposite side. As the driver wove through city streets and earned constant curses and rude gestures, the team geared up in silence, each finding their center for the upcoming battle. The standard Agency combat uniform inspired thoughts of mayhem. Tight black pants featured Kevlar plates covering critical areas, and a thick long-sleeve t-shirt covered them neck to wrists. A wide web belt held a medic pouch, magazine loops, grenades, and attachment points for other essential items. They wore jump boots with metal bracing to improve protection and minimize potential damage.

  Atop this base rode thigh holsters, a pistol on the dominant side and baton with electrical discharge capability on the other. A bulletproof vest protected chest and back and offered more attachment points. Straps held light impact shields to upper and lower arms, and a black combat helmet and AR goggles finished the kit. The Agency had experimented with full-head protection that locked into the vest, but operatives had found it too disorienting for close-quarters battle, which this was sure to be.

  There was a shotgun or rifle with a chest strap for each team member on the wall by the back exit. They loaded the rifles with alternating armor-piercing and hollow point rounds, and additional magazines of each were in the standard loadout.

  Once outfitted, they sat on the bench and watched the feed from Dornan, who remained at HQ. They had discovered early on that so
me forms of magic could compromise computer gear, so she took part by remote. A network of relays that the advance team had quietly installed on roofs all around the city prior to their arrival offset the lag.

  Her voice was soft and carefully calm as she handled the briefing. “The tower is sixty-four stories. The top floor used to be a restaurant, but now it’s the home office of Evil Oriceran WMW, Incorporated.” An image of the skyscraper grew larger and rotated. “The drones identified the windows on fifty-nine through sixty-four as not-glass. They’re metal of some kind, and the analysis software is going haywire trying to figure it out.”

  “How does that happen?” asked Kettner.

  “Wizard did it,” answered Khan immediately. “Only, you know, literally.”

  “So rappelling from the roof is out is what you’re saying.” Parker sounded disappointed.

  “Exactly,” Dornan confirmed. “We’re not blasting through that stuff with anything shy of a missile, and the oversight committee frowns on us borrowing Predator drones to use in domestic territory.”

  Binot snorted. “Should be called the ‘short-sight committee.’” A low laugh came from the front, where Sheen was setting up the team’s comms and goggle feeds. “Besides, there are probably traps or surveillance up there. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Is there any good news?” Parker asked.

  “Well, there’s this.” Dornan switched to the feed from a different drone. It showed a construction crane working nearby.

  “You’re not seriously suggesting we use that to enter the building?” Khan did not sound as if he was in favor of the plan.

  “Unless you want to walk up sixty-plus flights.”

  “I vote against that option,” said Kettner.