Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles 1: Wizard Defiant

by Rodney Hartman

  The last thing Richard saw before he lost consciousness was a big fist sporting a Wizard Scout Academy ring coming his way with TAC Officer Myers’ red face silhouetted behind it. Then everything went black.

  * * *

  The world was foggy for a long time. Occasionally, the fog would lift long enough for Richard to see blurred figures. He even caught an occasional word or phrase such as; ‘lucky to be alive’, ‘head trauma’, ‘induced coma’ and ‘shattered leg’. Eventually, the fog lifted, and Richard dreamed of dragons, demons, elves, spheres and dark tunnels full of undead. In almost every dream, Richard was low on Power. Chief Instructor Winslow’s warnings to conserve Power kept haunting him.

  I should have been more efficient with my Power, he thought. I could have helped her more if only I hadn’t used my Power so inefficiently. He promised himself he would never waste Power again.

  Richard tried to remember the elf’s features, but they had faded from his memory for some reason. All he could remember was her silver hair and eyes along with the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen. Even in his dreams, he was jealous of the elf who had won her heart.

  “He’s a lucky elf, whoever he is,” Richard whispered.

  Richard heard the soft murmuring of voices around him. He raised his hand to clear the cobwebs from his face. There were none. When he didn’t find any, Richard opened his eyes. He squinted. The light was very bright.

  “So, back from the dead, are you?” said a cheerful, feminine voice.

  Richard had a sudden realization. He could hear. There was a constant buzzing sound, but at least he could hear.

  “Yeah,” laughed another female. “We thought you were going to sleep the rest of the semester, you lazy bum.”

  “That’s right, 832,” said a male voice. “No rest for the wicked. It’s time to start earning your keep again.”

  Richard opened his eyes a little further. Three faces slowly came into focus. I know them, he thought.

  “Telsa. Tam. Jerad,” said a voice Richard barely recognized as his own. It sounded more like a croak than a voice. “Where am I?” Richard asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but it was the only thing he could think to say. His brain definitely wasn’t functioning on hyper-drive yet.

  “Where all the lazy, good-for-nothing sluggards are,” said Tam. “You’re loafing in the lap of luxury at the Academy’s hospital. And, it’s all paid for courtesy of the Empire’s taxpayers.”

  “Seriously,” said Jerad, “you’ve been in an induced coma for six weeks while your injuries healed. I’m guessing the worst is over. It was touch and go there for a while though.”

  “And you’re just lucky enough to be here when I wake up?” Richard asked.

  Telsa laughed. “Not hardly, Rick. What’d you do, sleep through all your medical classes? It was an induced coma. They woke you up on schedule. We bribed the orderly to tell us when they were going to do it, and he let us in.”

  “Bribed?” Richard said still stalling for time to get his thoughts in order. “What did you use for credits?” Cadets weren’t allowed to have any monetary items in order to discourage gambling and offsite forays.

  “Credits?” said Telsa with another laugh. “I haven’t had a single credit in my hand in over two years. I promised the orderly a date with a woman of loose moral standards.” Telsa paused, then laughed, “By the way, Tam, he’s picking you up later tonight.”

  Telsa and Jerad burst out in laughter. Even Richard chuckled a little until the pain in his side made him stop. Tam, on the other hand, didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.

  “Whatever,” said Tam. “Guess who’s getting latrine detail all next week. Her name starts with T.E.L.S.A.”

  “See what I have to put up with, Rick?” said Jerad. “I need you back in the barracks to keep these two jokers inline.”

  “Yeah,” said Tam. “We do need you back in the barracks. We’ve been trying to keep the extra training going, but it hasn’t been the same without your battle computer and you. Most of the group has drifted away.”

  Richard was silent for a few seconds. His friends were trying to cheer him up, but he was pretty sure he knew the lay of the land.

  “Look, guys,” Richard said while trying to keep his voice even. “I’m not a military novice. My leg was shattered, my eardrums were ruptured, and my head took a hit so hard there’s bound to be at least some brain damage. On top of that, I’m a resistor. Even TAC Officer Shatstot can’t heal me. A wizard scout has to be in nearly perfect physical condition. I doubt I could even get back in my old recon unit. I’d probably even have a tough time getting assigned as a clerk typist in some admin outfit. I’ll bet Myers had my paperwork filled out for a medical D.F.R. while they still had me in the operating room.”

  “Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?” asked Jerad. “Or do you at least think you could be quiet long enough to hear what’s really happening?”

  Richard stayed silent until it became apparent Jerad wasn’t going to continue until Richard answered his question. Richard was stubborn, but he needed answers, so he mentally surrendered and said, “All right. What’s really going on?”

  “Tam?” said Jerad. “You know more about his medical conditions than I do. Would you care to explain it?”

  “I’d be happy to,” said Tam. “But only if Mr. Inquisitive here promises to hold his questions to the end. I don’t like interruptions. Understand?”

  Richard had a feeling his platoon sergeant was serious, so he meekly said, “Fine, Tam. My lips are sealed until you’re done.”

  “Good,” Tam smiled. “Well, first off, you’re mostly correct on your self-assessment. Your left leg was shattered in three places. The medical bigwigs were going to replace your thigh bone with an artificial one. Before they could start, orders came down from High Command. The orders forbid the doctors from using artificial materials in your treatment. The orders said it would interfere with your self-healing once you got your DNA baseline reading.”

  “The High Command said that?” Richard asked skeptically.

  “So much for keeping your lips sealed,” smiled Tam. “Yes, the High Command said it. At least, I’m told the orders came straight from the High Command via the tele-network. The orders were encrypted at the highest level. It was all very top-secret stuff.”

  “So,” Richard said with a weak smile of his own, “if it was so top secret, how do you know about it?”

  “Ask me no questions,” said Tam, “and I’ll tell you no lies. Now stop interrupting.”

  “Whatever,” Richard said.

  “They’ve spared no expense on you,” said Tam. “I’ll bet you had a half dozen bone grafts if you had one. You’ll probably have a slight limp the rest of your life whenever you’re out of your battle suit. Even outside your suit, though, you should still be able to perform most combat moves.”

  “Most?” Richard said.

  “Depends on how hard you work to recover,” said Tam. “As for your hearing, you’ve got most of it back. However, a medic told me you’d never be better than seventy percent of normal. Sorry, Rick. At least your side is okay. You’ll have a scar, and you’re missing a rib, but other than that, it’s perfect.”

  “You call that okay?” Richard said. “Your standards are apparently lower than mine.”

  “Of course they are,” said Telsa. “She accepted you as a friend didn’t she? Obviously, she has low standards.”

  “I don’t need your help, Telsa,” said Tam. “Now, stop interrupting, Rick.”

  “Whatever,” Richard said.

  “Last, but not least,” said Tam, “you did take some brain damage. But, they don’t know how much, and the High Command’s orders prohibit them from delving further.”

  “So, what does this all mean?” Richard asked. “I don’t understand the High Command’s involvement.”

  “Who cares?” said Telsa. “It means you’re staying in the Academy. Apparently, Myers and the Commandant are forbidden to D.F.R.
you regardless of your medical condition. Heck, I’ll bet the High Command won’t let them kick you out of the Academy no matter what you do. So, you’re stuck with us, Rick, old boy. Now, get that pout off your face and give your friends a big smile.”

  “I doubt this is going to make me popular with the Commandant,” Richard said. “That’s unfortunate, because I really like him. I could care less what Myers thinks. He already hated me.”

  “It can’t be helped, Rick,” said Jared. “By the way, Sergeant Hendricks said he’s salvaged as much of your gear as he could. He said to tell you to stop taking the isotopic batteries out of his phase rods. Oh, yeah, and he wants to know what the hell you did with his knife.”

  The image of Sergeant Hendricks getting his first look at Richard’s battle suit and gear made Richard smile. He probably blew a gasket.

  “In all seriousness, Rick,” said Tam, “it looks like the only way you’re getting out of the Academy is if you D.F.R. yourself. So, what are you going to do? Are you staying here with your friends? Or, are you D.F.R.ing out of the Academy and living off a military-disability check for the rest of your life?”

  All three of his friends watched him closely. Richard thought long and hard before answering. He had a feeling he’d find Sergeant Hendricks’ knife in his pack along with a new battle helmet. He was confident Nickelo would be there, bossy as ever.

  The question is, Richard thought, do I still want to be a wizard scout after all I’ve been through? And, would ‘the One’ even allow me to D.F.R if I wanted?

  Richard had no trouble remembering his last instructions from ‘the One’. He was to ‘Continue training’.

  Heck, Richard thought, given the past record of ‘the One’, he’ll probably ship me off to an Academy in another dimension with a set of twin TAC officers named Myers to keep me company. That would suck.

  In the end, Richard figured he had no choice. He didn’t like the fact ‘the One’ had taken him out of the battle before he knew for sure the elf was safe, but he had a feeling she was. The isotopic battery had been on the verge of detonating. Stuck like it was under the loose scale on the dragon’s neck, the explosion would have cut the neck in two.

  Richard looked at his expectant friends and gave them the only answer he could. “I’m going to stay in the Academy and be the best wizard scout I can be. And, TAC Officer Gaston Myers can kiss my wizard-scout-rear-end if he doesn’t like it.”

  His friends laughed. So did Richard.

  For one of the few times in his life, Richard felt truly happy.

  Epilogue

  ____________________

  Nickelo was teleported onto charger two located in warehouse twenty-seven room six row fifteen shelf twelve. Fifty-three battle helmets were located on identical chargers to his right. One empty charger was located to his left. The other fifty-three battle helmets were functional; but they lacked software, and thus they were silent. Nickelo was the only active battle helmet in the vicinity.

  Using the battle helmet’s visuals, Nickelo scanned the large room. No one was in sight. Regardless, the room was too clean for the warehouse to be abandoned. There was no dust, and he could hear the hum of generators in the background. Nickelo tried to send a query through the charger’s network connection, but his access was blocked. Based upon serial numbers, Nickelo knew his memory chip was now embedded in a different battle helmet.

  An outside thought came into Nickelo’s consciousness. The wizard scout almost died. That would have been unacceptable. You failed us.

  I have many failures stored in my data banks. Be more specific, Nickelo replied.

  The wizard scout should have accompanied the elf to plant the seed, said the voice. He could have secured the link for the gate. The elf could have given him additional training. He needed it. But both he and the elf ran out of Power too soon. We had to extract him early. The elf returned home with the seed parts alone. Now we must modify the algorithm. The wizard scout is not logical. He is too emotional. You must guide him. He must learn. He must sacrifice.

  Guide him to do what? Nickelo asked. Learn what? Sacrifice what?

  No answer.

  Who are you? Nickelo asked.

  We are ‘The One’, came the reply.

  [End Transmission]

  Copyright © 2015 by Rodney Wayne Hartman

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Angie Abler

  Acknowledgments

  This book could never have been completed without the assistance and support of family and friends too numerous to mention. However, I would be amiss if I did not give special thanks to my wife, Karen Hartman, for her support and encouragement in this project.

  About the Author

  Rodney Hartman is a retired U.S. Army veteran with over twenty years of experience in military operations ranging from an infantry private in the paratroops to a Chief Warrant Officer flying helicopters during the Persian Gulf War. Mr. Hartman currently works as a computer programmer specializing in secure web applications. He enjoys writing in his spare time, and he has written numerous articles as a ghost writer for various websites. Mr. Hartman lives in North Carolina with his wife and family along with their cat, McKenzie.