Wizard Defender (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 8)

by Rodney Hartman

  “Humph,” Liz said out loud. “Those days are long gone. Reality is so much harsher than youthful daydreams.” She shook her head. I’m tired, she thought, but I can’t let my mind drift. I’ve got to stay focused. Billions of life forms are depending on me. I’m not going to let them down. She glanced at the digital time display on her wristband. It was time to make her call.

  Sitting in the chair at the head of the table, Liz touched an icon on the computer display built into the desktop. A half-meter-high holographic image of a young boy with dark curly hair appeared above the table. Standing behind the boy were Tia and Matthew.

  Liz frowned. She recognized the boy as Richard’s adoptive nephew but hadn’t expected him to be part of the call. She didn’t like surprises.

  “I thought I mentioned that I wanted to talk to you in private, Lieutenant Bistoria,” Liz said doing her best to keep her irritation under control. The fact that she’d only gotten two hours sleep in the past two days wasn’t helping.

  Tia’s back stiffened. To her credit, she replied in a somewhat respectful voice, “Yes, Sir. You did, but things have changed. Brachia’s found something I think you’re going to want to hear.”

  Instantly alert, Liz straightened in her chair. She’d talked to the boy a couple of times in the past. The discussions usually left her feeling a little inferior. The boy’s too smart for his own good, she thought. Switching her gaze to Richard’s adoptive nephew, she said, “All right, let’s hear it. What do you have?”

  Brachia grinned and lifted a black rod the length of a large man’s hand. “Dren found this in one of the warehouses on Storage. She sent it to me this morning. Naturally, Omar and I used it on our imp as soon as we could.”

  Liz tapped her foot under the table but succeeded in keeping her face neutral. “Naturally. Now, what is it?”

  “Oh,” said Brachia, grinning again. “This is a knowledge transversal device. It was—”

  “Do you mean transferal?” Liz asked, already beginning to feel a little confused.

  The boy frowned and glanced at Tia before looking back at Liz. “Uh, no. It’s a transversal device.” He frowned again as if struggling to find the right words. “I mean, it does transfer knowledge, but it does it by a transversal of psychic lines.” He scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess to really understand the process you’d need to read an Imperial Scientific Academy paper my parents wrote called ‘Knowledge Transversal by Subliminal Consciousness Using Third Party Psychic Assistance.’ You see, in order to transfer knowledge, you first have to—”

  Raising her hand, Liz said, “Enough. I don’t have the time or patience for this. What’s your point?”

  When the boy cocked his head and frowned, Tia spoke. “This device was invented by Brachia and Dren’s parents before they were killed. Their parents used the device to transfer their knowledge into their children. That’s why they’re so smart.”

  “That’s not the only reason,” said Brachia sounding defensive.

  Ignoring the boy, Tia continued with her explanation. “Dren found the device while she was conducting an inventory of the warehouses on Storage for Rick. She and Brachia had assumed it was destroyed when her parents were murdered, but somehow the device found its way to one of the warehouses.”

  Liz rubbed her forehead, wishing she wasn’t so tired. “Too much detail, Lieutenant. Skip the background. What do you have that I need to know?”

  Turning a shade of pink, Tia clenched her lips.

  Matthew bent down until his head was even with Brachia’s. “What we’ve found out,” he said, “is that a contingent of Crosioians have several thousand demons and magic users at their disposal. Brachia used the transferal device—”

  “Transversal,” corrected Brachia.

  “Fine,” said Matthew. “He used the transversal device on the imp. Some of the Crosioian tribes have been secretly bringing demons into the physical dimension. From what Brachia can gather—”

  “The imp’s thought process is…uh…different,” said Brachia, “but from what I can figure out, there is a major disagreement among the Crosioian tribes about the use of demons. The current leadership believes all the demons and mages utilized during the Estos battle were either returned to their home dimensions or killed. Behind the scenes, about a third of the tribes have been working in unison to bring demons back to the physical dimension. They are using those demons to hide at least half of the Crosioians’ fleets from our scout teams.”

  Liz frowned. “Are you saying their leaders don’t know about this? I find that hard to believe.”

  Brachia shrugged his shoulders. “All I know is what the imp believes. It could be wrong, but from what it understands, a third of the Crosioian tribes are positioning themselves for a coup. Our prisoners on Estos are the bait that the Crosioians’ supreme leader is using to lure us into a trap. They have stripped their borders and rear areas of soldiers and ships and positioned them for a strike on Estos, should we attempt a rescue. Unbeknownst to the supreme leader, some of the tribes are using the gathering of their forces for that ambush as a smokescreen for their planned coup. They’ve been bringing in demons to hide their fleets and fake out false locations to fool their own leaders. Their fleets are actually positioned to take over key facilities in the Crosioian Empire the moment the rest of the fleets have sprung the trap around Estos.”

  Liz’s stomach tightened. She’d always known the Estos mission was a gamble, but she hadn’t figured on demons and undetectable fleets. “Does the knowledge you got from the demon include the locations of the hidden enemy fleets?”

  The boy shook his head. “No. I get the impression the demons don’t really care where the Crosioians’ ships are. And it’s an imp. It’s more of a weak devil than a demon, but I guess that doesn’t matter in the current situation. You see, the demons have a Dark Council composed of—”

  Liz held up her hand. She forced herself to ignore the fact that the person she was talking to was a young boy and tried to phrase her questions the same way she would if he was a highly qualified scientist. Which he is, she thought. If what he’s telling me is true, I hope he and his sister are as smart as Rick tells me they are.

  “All right,” Liz said. “Assuming what you’re telling me is true, why are the demons helping the Crosioians, and how are they getting into our dimension? I got the impression from Rick that it took half a year for the Crosioians’ mage lackeys to summon enough demons to hide their fleets during the Estos battle. If they were all forced back to the demonic plane like Rick thinks, how is it the Crosioians have been able to gather several thousand in just a few weeks?”

  “Uh—” began Brachia before looking back at Tia.

  Liz noticed her sister glance at Matthew before looking at her.

  “I think the reason Brachia’s hesitating is because he’s a scientist and wants his facts straight before he gives out information,” said Tia. “I know we don’t have that luxury, so here’s our best guess on what’s happening. The Crosioian tribes that are planning the coup are using a dimensional gate located on one of their planets called Astaris. The gate’s been closed for a long time, but even before the first battle on Estos, some demons had been working with those Crosioian rebel wannabes and working to open the gate. Mages from Portalis have been brought in to help.”

  Liz frowned. “Why are the demons helping the bats?”

  “They aren’t,” said Matthew. “At least they aren’t the way the Crosioian rebels think. Our imp prisoner is just a low-level demon, so it’s not in the know about a lot of things, but Brachia found out enough to know even the demons have their own set of political strife. Their Dark Council, whatever that is, has one set of plans for conquering the three galaxies. Another set of demons under the four brother demons Rick has fought off and on over the years has another plan. Then there’s a third group of demons that our imp prisoner’s a part of, that is working to use the Astaris gate to invade the physical dimension. It gets pretty co
nfusing. The end result is that this third group of demons is working to open the Astaris gate. The imp believes a demon army will be gathering at the gate soon to begin their invasion. Their plan is to kill every living thing in our galaxy. That includes the Crosioians.”

  Liz’s mind went into hyper-drive trying to find some way she could use the information to her advantage. She rubbed her forehead with both hands. I’m too tired, she thought. I can’t think straight. There must be some way to use what they’re telling me, but what? She took in a deep breath before lowering her hands and looking at Tia. “Does that imp of yours know where this Astaris is located? I’ve never heard of it.”

  Nodding her head, Tia said, “Yes, it does, but it’s out of our reach. It’s located near the outer realms, on the far side of the Crosioian Empire. It would take a full thirty-five hyper-jumps to make it there. None of our ships could reach it without having their hyper-drive replaced before they got two thirds of the way there.”

  “The Defiant could make it,” said Brachia.

  Liz had no doubt the little recon ship with her prototype hyper-drive and silver dragon could, but there was a problem. “Unfortunately,” she said, “the Defiant isn’t here. Neither is Rick, so we’re out of luck.”

  Tia caught Liz’s eye. “What are we going to do, Sir?”

  “Do, Lieutenant?” Liz replied. “We’re going to get our soldiers off Estos before they’re all dead. We’ll deal with this demon thing after that.”

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Matthew. “Our Conglomerate forces are nearly assembled. I’ve made sure every one of our fleets is commanded by senior staff with Empire navy experience.”

  Liz nodded. Her respect for the young man went up a notch. She allowed herself a tired smile. “I’m sure convincing the previous commanders to retire early wasn’t an easy task, Matt. You did right though. We can’t afford any betrayals this time.”

  Matthew Deloris’s face turned a shade of pink. “There won’t be, Admiral. I guarantee it.”

  Liz nodded again. She believed him. “Very well, then. Once your forces are assembled, have them rendezvous with the Empire and Trecorian fleets as planned. Come hell or high water, the attack on Estos will commence in twelve days.”

  Tia snapped to attention and saluted.

  Matthew didn’t salute, but he did nod his head.

  Brachia stared into Liz’s eyes. “I wish Uncle Rick was here. He could help.”

  Liz gave another tired smile. “I’m sure he could, Brachia, but he’s not here. We’re going to have to do it on our own. I imagine Rick and Sergeant Ron have got their own set of problems.”

  Chapter 32 – Hyper-drive

  ____________________

  “Our shields cannot take this kind of beating much longer,” said Margery over the Defiant’s intercom. “By the way, the forward torpedo tubes have finished reloading. I highly recommend you knock out some of those warships’ weapons pods before we lose our shields completely.”

  Sergeant Ron punched the icon for the torpedo tubes located in the bow of the Defiant. The recon ship bucked as six high-speed missiles shot out toward the nearest destroyer. The enemy vessel’s force field was nearly as battered as that of the Defiant, but it held long enough to resist the blast from the first five warheads. The sixth torpedo exploded in a bright flash near the pirate ship’s bridge. Pieces of metal and hot gas scattered outward from the hull, creating a rippling effect of explosions along the full length of the destroyer.

  “That ought to slow them down,” Sergeant Ron said as he turned the Defiant to present her starboard tubes to the second destroyer. He spoke into the ship’s intercom. “Sergeant Hendricks, I want you to fire all starboard weapons at those pirates the moment they come to bear. We’ve got to take the pressure off the yacht. I can sense Comstar’s shield weakening.”

  “Roger that,” replied the ship’s armorer from his position at the recon ship’s weapons control station on the second floor. “Weapons will commence firing in six seconds.”

  “Incoming,” said Margery.

  Even as he turned to look at the tactical hologram located between the pilot and copilot seats, Sergeant Ron reached out with his passive scan seeking whatever the ex-battle computer had spotted. He drew in a deep breath and jerked the control stick hard to the left as six white dots on the hologram closed on the Defiant. The agile recon ship dodged the first two missiles. Sergeant Ron punched the countermeasures icon on the armrest of his seat. A flurry of anti-missile plasma and phase beams shot out from the sides of the Defiant, striking two more of the missiles. Their explosions were bright enough to temporarily blank out the forward view screens. A glance at the tactical hologram showed the last two missiles heading directly for the recon ship’s hyper-drive exhausts.

  “Our rear shields are down to fourteen percent,” said Margery. “I calculate a forty-one percent probability they won’t stop both missiles.”

  “Seal all airtight doors,” Sergeant Ron ordered. “Charlie, get out of the engine room and help Sergeant Hendricks with our weapons systems.” Reaching over to the armrest of the copilot’s seat, he angled the rear shields for maximum efficiency. He belatedly wished Angela was in the cockpit with him instead of back on Portalis with Terrie. If wishes were credits, I’d be a rich man, he thought, smiling in spite of the situation.

  The first missile hit the rear shield. The Defiant bucked hard to the left, slamming Sergeant Ron into the right side of his seat.

  “We took no damage, but our rear shield is down,” said Margery. “The second missile will make contact with our hull in four, three, two—”

  Boom!

  The final missile exploded short of the Defiant. Sergeant Ron caught sight of a silvery flash zooming through the fiery debris. It was the dragon-fighter.

  “Thanks, Asquan,” Sergeant Ron said into the intercom. “You saved our bacon this—”

  “Incoming,” said Margery.

  Sergeant Ron sensed a flow of energy to the Defiant’s rear. He only had time to think the word magic when the obvious stealth spell dropped to reveal a high-velocity solid projectile heading straight for the engine room. Sergeant Ron wasn’t a wizard scout. Still, he did have a Power reserve, and both the commandant and Richard had taught him a few tricks over the years. He drew every bit of Power he had in his reserve out and threw it at the incoming projectile. He sensed another line of Power reaching out from deck two to join his. The image of a four-armed Sterilian mechanic popped in Sergeant Ron’s mind. That was all the time he had to think before the two lines of Power and the projectile made contact. He sensed the projectile slow but not enough.

  Boom!

  The Defiant lurched to the side. Sergeant Ron was slammed forward in his seat, bent nearly double and hitting his head on the control panel. Everything turned black for a couple of seconds. Struggling to remain conscious, he focused on a loud ringing in his ears. What? he thought before realizing it was the cockpit’s alarm bells.

  “Breach in engine room,” said Margery. “We’ve got a hole the size of a basketball in our hull. I have activated fire suppression systems in all compartments on the second deck. We’re leaking air fast on decks two and three.”

  With years of commanding recon ships under his belt, Sergeant Ron got down to business. “Charlie! Sergeant Hendricks! Are you okay?”

  “Affirmative,” said Sergeant Hendricks. “I’m in the starboard side weapons control with Charlie. We’re donning spacesuits now. Charlie’s going to go out and try to seal the holes in our hull.”

  One of many flashing lights on the control panel caught Sergeant Ron’s attention. The words HYPER-DRIVE CRITICAL made a shiver run down his spine. “Negative. We’ve already lost atmosphere. That ain’t going to get any worse. The hyper-drive’s been damaged. It’s overloading. Tell Charlie I’m ejecting the drive before she blows. I want him to divert all life-support systems to the ion-drive.”

  “Roger that, Captain,” said Sergeant Hendricks.

 
Flipping up the safety cover for the drive’s ejection switch, Sergeant Ron wasted no time in clicking it to the armed position and pressing the EJECT button. Nothing happened. He recycled the switch and tried again. Still nothing.

  “Hyper-drive overload in twenty seconds,” said Margery. “I calculate the drive’s emergency eject is inoperable.”

  “Ya think?” Sergeant Ron snapped as he unstrapped his chair’s safety harness. Already in a pressure suit, he grabbed his helmet and put it on as he made for the cockpit’s exit. The door didn’t open at his approach. “Margery, open the dang-blasted door.”

  “Atmosphere has been lost on decks one, two, and three,” said Margery. “Opening the door will lose the air in the cockpit.”

  “We’ll worry about oxygen later if we don’t get blown up first,” said Sergeant Ron. “Now open the door.”

  “Compliance.”

  The cockpit’s door slid open. Thanking his lucky stars the artificial gravity was still working, Sergeant Ron ran down the stairs and past the mess table. He jumped down the stairs to the next level, barely touching the rails as he made his way toward the engine room. When he got close, he saw a head-sized hole in the hull venting red gas from the hyper-drive into space. The sides of the prototype engine were glowing red with several spots turning to a bright white.

  “Twelve seconds until the hyper-drive reaches critical mass,” came Margery’s voice over the ship’s intercom.

  Making straight for a maintenance panel near the engine room’s door, Sergeant Ron pried it off and grabbed hold of the manual release lever with both hands. The lever didn’t budge. He braced his feet against the wall and jerked with all his strength. Still, the lever didn’t move.

  “Six seconds until overload,” said Margery.

  A large gray hand shoved Sergeant Ron to the side, throwing him against the wall. He bounced off and hit the floor. When he looked up, Charlie was holding onto the lever with all four hands and pushing against the wall with both feet. His arms and legs quivered.