Wizard Omega (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 4)

by Rodney Hartman

  Terrie gave a laugh. “Because, Rick, old buddy. Trecor doesn’t have any diviners. The only Trecorians who’ve been fully trained in their Power usage were trained while they served in the Empire. The Empire isn’t too keen on training potential enemies. And you know diviners are pretty rare. Only one in a thousand wizard scout cadets are diviners.

  Richard had been told often enough diviners were rare. But he’d always assumed there were plenty of diviners to go around.

  “It seemed like there were plenty of diviners at the Academy,” Richard pointed out. “I was tested by five diviners during my freshman year. And I know the Commandant, Myers, Stella, and I were also diviners. That makes nine I know of.”

  “Yeah, well,” said Terrie, “the Commandant and Gaston were assigned to the Academy as instructors specifically because they were diviners. And, having Stella and you both as diviners in the same cohort was a rarity. Believe me, diviners are rare. And, only a diviner can train another diviner to use their Power properly. That’s why Trecor doesn’t have diviners of their own.”

  “Nobody trained me,” Richard stubbornly insisted. “I’ve been able to use my Power reserve as long as I can remember.”

  Terrie shrugged his shoulders. “As I said, you’re a rarity.”

  If he was anything, Richard was persistent. He refused to give up on his point.

  “Okay, fine,” Richard said. “But it seems like a big waste of potential. Why hasn’t Trecor tried to get diviners of their own? Or, why haven’t they at least tried to get one of the Empire’s diviners to train their soldiers?”

  The look Terrie gave Richard cutoff any further thoughts of being stubborn. His old TAC officer looked as if he was surprised Richard couldn’t answer his own questions for himself. If he’d still been a cadet, Richard would’ve assumed he was on the verge of getting extra duty.

  “Trecor has tried,” said Terrie. “But until now, we haven’t been able to persuade the Empire to loan us one of their diviners. We’ve never had anything the Empire wanted bad enough to make a trade.”

  Richard’s confusion must have shown on his face because Terrie explained without requiring additional prodding.

  “You, Rick,” said Terrie. “Why do you think I worked so hard to convince the duke he needed to pressure the Empire into assigning you to us?”

  “Uh…, I didn’t know you did,” Richard said genuinely surprised.

  Richard liked Terrie, but he wasn’t sure he liked him meddling in his life. “Are you saying I have you to thank for this assignment?”

  “Only partially,” Terrie answered with a shrug. “The duke needed you to heal his soldiers. The fact some of them were his own children motivated him even more. My battle computer, Taylor, told me the Empire was interested in obtaining information about the anomaly. I wanted you here to help train Trecorians. So…”

  “So you put the pieces together and got me assigned here,” Richard said finishing Terrie’s explanation.

  Richard thought he was finally starting to see the behind-the-scenes manipulations which had gotten him to where he was.

  “So why didn’t you just flat out tell me, Terrie? Why all this subterfuge? Was this meal invitation just a ploy to get Angela and me together?”

  Richard thought Terrie’s face reddened a little.

  “A little,” admitted Terrie. “But Angela wasn’t in on the plan. She really did want to meet you. I just figured the two of you would eventually get around to talking about the anomalies. And just so you know, I haven’t told the duke everything. Taylor actually suggested I go about it this way.”

  Richard didn’t say anything, but he had a distinct feeling he knew who made the original suggestion to Terrie’s battle computer. Richard could smell the manipulations of ‘the One’.

  “Well, not to burst your bubble,” Richard said, “but no one’s said anything about me training anyone to use their Power reserves.”

  Terrie grinned. “No, I don’t suppose they have. Like I mentioned before, we Trecorians are a proud and independent lot. We don’t like admitting we need help. But, I’ve a feeling that’s going to change tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Richard said. His interest was piqued. “Why tomorrow?”

  Terrie gave a knowing laugh. “Because my friend, tomorrow Colonel Santos is going to show off all she’s taught you about heavy cats to the duke. And to be quite frank, Rick, old buddy, you suck at piloting heavy cats.”

  Richard didn’t disagree.

  Chapter 29 – Attitude Adjustment

  _____________________________________

  The next morning found Richard in the pilot seat of a Leviathan cat. His copilot was Colonel Santos. His two tail gunners were none other than Commander Leander and Master Sergeant Stover.

  A glance at the computer readout on his pilot’s console confirmed the positions of the other Leviathan and the two Long Cats in his quad. As of yet, he didn’t know the positions of his opponents. Colonel Santos had ordered him to only use the cat’s electronics for the training exercise. She’d told him if she detected any indication he was using his wizard scout abilities, she’d consider it cheating and automatically fail him for the exercise. Richard’s initial reaction was he didn’t care. Besides, he seriously doubted the colonel could detect one of his active scans unless he let her. But in the end, he decided to play by her rules. The end result was that even though the regiment’s intelligence officer had indicated his quad would be opposed by four aggressor quads totaling sixteen cats, none of his cat’s electronics were picking them up.

  “Do you have any suggestions?” Richard asked.

  “The duke’s here to observe you, Shepard, not me,” said Colonel Santos in a tone Richard thought was a little too smug. “I’m just here to act as your copilot. So what are your… err… orders?”

  Richard forced himself to swallow the anger welling up inside him. He hated things that weren’t fair. And this whole test scenario wasn’t fair as far as he was concerned. Richard supposed he should be used to it after all his years with Myers riding his back, but he wasn’t.

  The whole testing scenario had turned out to be a much larger affair than he’d anticipated. The duke was in the control tower along with Admiral Formida and a dozen other high-ranking officers.

  To make matters worse, while Sergeant Hendricks had been hooking Richard’s armor into the Leviathan’s computer system, his armorer mentioned Admiral Donovan was in the control tower with the duke as well. Having Liz’s current love interest watching did nothing to quell Richard’s sense of pending doom.

  “Fine,” Richard said as he moved the two hand levers to start the Leviathan forward.

  “Leviathan two,” Richard ordered into his communicator. “Take both Long Cats and sweep around to the right. I’ll try and smoke our targets out by drawing their fire.”

  “Roger,” replied a voice over the cockpit’s intercom.

  “Quads are meant to support each other,” said Colonel Santos. “I told you that before. You should keep–”

  “I asked for suggestions, and you wouldn’t give any,” Richard said without attempting to hide his irritation with the colonel. “You want to be a copilot? Fine, be a copilot. You want to be in charge, that’s okay too. Just say the word, and you can have the controls.”

  The colonel’s face turned red. Through her visor, Richard noticed she was biting her lip. However, she didn’t say anything further. The colonel just folded her arms and stared stoically ahead.

  Richard hadn’t moved the Leviathan more than a hundred meters when an excited voice came over the intercom.

  “Contact,” said the voice of Leviathan two’s pilot. “Long Cat one is down.”

  “Roger,” Richard said as he made an awkward turn towards the position of the other cats in his quad.

  “You’re too tight on your turn,” said Colonel Santos. “You’re going to tangle your legs if you’re not careful.”

  “Then take the controls and get us over there,” Richard
said irritably.

  The colonel kept her arms folded across her chest. “It’s not my test. You should’ve kept the quad together. You obviously left their flank exposed.”

  Before Richard could respond, a voice over the cockpit speaker said, “Leviathan two is down.” Richard recognized the voice as one of the Long Cat pilots. “What are your orders, Leviathan one?”

  “Hold fast,” Richard said. “We’re on our way.”

  “See what happens when you separate your quad,” said Colonel Santos. “This is a classic example of why–”

  “Incoming,” came the voice of Master Sergeant Stover over the cockpit intercom. “Four missiles are coming from our six o’clock. Another four is inbound from our eight.”

  “Activate countermeasures,” Richard ordered.

  “Activating,” replied Colonel Santos as she slapped a button in the middle of her copilot’s console.

  Richard picked up eight energy readings on his passive scan tracking inbound. He had a momentary thought he might be cheating, but he didn’t care.

  “Can you take them out?” Richard said using the dedicated channel for his tail gunners.

  A series of shudders from the rear of the Leviathan told Richard his tail gunners were responding to the attack. He saw four of the energy readings blink out. However, four of the energy readings continued tracking towards his Leviathan.

  Richard pulled back hard on the levers for the Leviathan’s rear legs in an attempt to kick the cat out of the missiles’ paths.

  “No!” said Colonel Santos in a high-pitched voice. “That’s non-standard. You’ll tangle–”

  The colonel’s warning came a little too late. Richard felt the Leviathan lean to the left. Before he could do anything to compensate, Colonel Santos made a grab for the levers controlling the Leviathan’s legs.

  “I’ve got the controls,” shouted the colonel.

  “You’ve got the controls,” Richard said as he willingly released the levers. He hadn’t wanted to pilot the Leviathan in the first place.

  The colonel’s hands moved deftly over the controls. Richard felt their cat slowly right itself. While he didn’t especially like the colonel, Richard was forced to admit she was one heck of a cat pilot.

  Before the colonel could do more than get the Leviathan stabilized, the cat shook several times. The vibrations were accompanied by the sound of four loud bangs.

  “We’re hit,” said Master Sergeant Stover. “The commander and I are dead.”

  No sooner were the sergeant’s words out than Richard sensed a score of energy readings heading his way. A warning alarm sounded. The alarm was followed by a computerized voice saying, “Missiles inbound from nine, eleven, one, and three o’clock positions.”

  The distance was short, and before either Colonel Santos or Richard could react, the Leviathan shuddered as missile after missile hit. The lights in the Leviathan’s cockpit went out and all was silent.

  “Well, I hope you’re satisfied, Shepard,” said Colonel Santos in an angry tone. “Thanks to you, we’re–”

  The animal which was Richard’s temper broke out of its cage. Richard slammed his hand down on the control panel.

  “Enough!” Richard said between gritted teeth.

  The colonel’s initial shock at Richard’s outburst quickly gave way to anger. She started to speak, but Richard beat her to the punch.

  “No!” Richard said. Anger flooded through him. “I’ve had enough of your crap. I’m a wizard scout, not a damn cat pilot. And I’m certainly not a heavy-cat pilot. You wanted me to do this exercise as a cat pilot. Fine. I gave it my best shot. But if this was real combat instead of a training exercise, there’d be sixteen smoking cats out there. And none of them would be ours.”

  The colonel’s mouth remained shut as she struggled for words. Richard didn’t give her time to gather her thoughts.

  “I’m tired of playing games, colonel,” Richard said. “I’m a highly-trained killer. I don’t appreciate being treated like some wet-nosed cadet. You want to send a hundred cats against me with no limitations on my part to keep their crews alive? Fine. I’ll destroy every one of them given enough time. And, there wouldn’t be a damn thing they or you could do about it.”

  Richard knew that wasn’t exactly true, but he was too angry to care.

  The colonel and Richard glared at each other. Where things would have went from there, Richard didn’t know. As it was, he wasn’t given a chance to find out.

  The lights in the cockpit lit back up as the control tower returned the Leviathan to full functionality.

  “Leviathan one,” said an authoritative voice over the cockpit intercom. “Pilot and copilot are to report to Duke Bistoria in the control tower immediately.”

  “Roger,” said Colonel Santos.

  Without asking Richard’s permission, the colonel took over control of the cat and moved it at a double-quick pace in the direction of the distant control tower.

  Neither the colonel nor Richard said anything further. Richard thought it was the quietest five minutes he’d ever experienced.

  * * *

  Admirals Formida and Donovan stood at stiff attention in front of Duke Bistoria. Colonel Santos and Richard stood next to them at attention as well. Except for the five of them, the control tower was devoid of life. Duke Bistoria had ordered everyone else out. Richard had never seen twenty soldiers including senior officers clear a room faster.

  The duke was angry. He was a big man, and his size only added to the intimidation factor of his anger. Richard began wishing he’d tried a little harder to cooperate with Colonel Santos. Not that it would have mattered. No one knew better than Richard his skills in heavy cats were less than desirable.

  The duke faced the four of them. He let his eyes wander down the line. They stopped on Colonel Santos.

  “Report,” ordered the duke.

  “Sir,” said Colonel Santos. “It’s as I said before. Shepard’s not a cat pilot. He can’t even grasp simple quad maneuvers. I can teach him nothing.”

  The duke looked at Colonel Santos for several seconds. “You teach him? Is that why you think he’s here?”

  “Uh…, sir?” said Colonel Santos sounding less confident. “I assumed–”

  “You assumed?” said the duke.

  Richard thought the duke’s voice had lost a lot of its anger, but his displeasure still came through loud and clear.

  “Sir,” said the colonel. “I’m not sure what value you thought this outsider could bring to our forces. Our regiment has a five to one kill ratio over our enemies. The Trecorian-wide average is three to one. Our cat pilots are the best, sir.”

  The duke looked at Colonel Santos for a few seconds before glancing at the others.

  “Is that what the rest of you think as well?” asked the duke.

  The two admirals remained silent. Richard wisely chose to follow their lead.

  When no one responded, the duke said, “Well, let me tell you what I think. The Trecorian Planetary Alliance has 22,000 cats. How many cats do the Balorian pirates have at their disposal?”

  Admiral Donovan answered for the rest of them. “Approximately 15,000, sir.”

  “That’s right,” said the duke. “And how many do the Crosioians have?”

  “Uh…, sir,” said Admiral Donovan less confidently. “No one knows for sure. Our latest estimates are about 140,000 cats of various models. We think many of them are older models though.”

  “Your numbers are a little off, admiral,” said Duke Bistoria. “What I’m going to tell you now is classified, and it stays in this room. Is that understood?”

  The three Trecorians immediately answered yes. The duke looked at Richard.

  “Uh, understood, sir,” Richard said.

  “Very well, I’m going to hold you to that, wizard scout,” said Duke Bistoria. “Three weeks ago, we received word the Crosioians had signed treaties with the Balorian pirates along with the Katlan and Namidian federations. Their forces now have a
total of nearly a half a million cats, not to mention a combined naval force of a 180,000 starships and an army of eighteen billion.”

  “Uh, but sir,” said Admiral Formida speaking for the first time. “We’re not at war with the Crosioians. Neither are we at war with the Katlan or Namidian federations for that matter. The Crosioians have their hands full with the Empire. As long as the Empire stands, we have little to fear from the Crosioians.”

  In what might have been an attempt to support his superior, Admiral Donovan added, “Admiral Formida is right, sir. The Balorian pirates may harass us with a few raids now and then as the Crosioians’ proxies, but we’ve never had direct combat with those bat creatures.”

  The duke stared at all four of them for a few seconds before turning his back to look at a star map on the wall.

  “Wizard scout,” said the duke. “How many cats can the Empire muster?”

  “Uh, sir,” Richard said unsure of his footing. “I’m not sure I should–”

  “Oh, come now,” said the duke turning back around. “It’s not like it’s a great military secret. But let me save you the trouble. On a good day, the Empire can muster 90,000 cats and about 35,000 combat starships. And what’s the size of your army? About two billion?”

  “Uh, sir,” Richard said amazed at the accuracy of the duke’s numbers. “Maybe. That’s not counting the reserve forces like the Conglomerate though. I think the Conglomerate actually has more combat ships and cats than our regular forces.”

  “Yes, they do,” agreed the duke. “And as long as the Empire can count on the Conglomerate’s continued support, the Empire will continue to be a buffer between us and the Crosioians.”

  The way the duke put it worried Richard. It was as if the duke knew or suspected something.

  “What are you saying, sir?” Richard asked.

  “What am I saying?” said the duke. “I think I’ll let you all figure that out on your own. In the meantime, I’m telling all of you a kill ratio of five to one isn’t good enough. I’m not even sure a kill ratio of twenty to one would be enough. But by the Creator, it’s a hell of a lot better than we can do now.”