The Cadre Files (Vorcian Imperial Chronicles Book 1)

by Taki Drake

  The Cadre Files

  By Taki Drake

  from the Vorcian Imperial Chronicles

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Legal Stuff

  The Cadre Files

  Introduction to Mara's Honor

  Mara's Honor

  Chapter One – Svedik

  Chapter Two – Planetfall

  Chapter Three - Succor

  Chapter Four – Aftermath

  Introduction to An Attitude Adjustment

  An Attitude Adjustment

  Chapter 1 – Corvus II

  Chapter 2 – Marines Have Landed

  Chapter 3 – Search and No Rescue

  Chapter 4 – Teased and Taunted

  Chapter 5 – Reinforcements

  Chapter 6 – Return to Base

  Chapter 7 – Housekeeping

  Introduction to Heart of Stone

  Heart of Stone

  Chapter 1 – New and Strange

  Chapter 2 - Arrangements

  Chapter 3 – First Clients

  Chapter 4 – Client Review

  Author Notes

  Author - Taki Drake

  Legal Stuff

  Copyright © 2019 All Chaos Press, All Rights Reserved.

  Reproduction of any kind is strictly prohibited unless written permission granted by the editor of the anthology and the author.

  The stories included in this compendium are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Mara's Honor, ©Copyright 2019 Taki Drake, All Rights Reserved

  An Attitude Adjustment, ©Copyright 2019 Taki Drake, All Rights Reserved

  Heart of Stone, ©Copyright 2019 Taki Drake, All Rights Reserved

  The Cadre Files

  Talents Together. The Vorcians spread their philosophy and messages through the galaxy as they reached out into the stars. Holding technology and magic, intellect and physical capability as equal, their alliance has created a stable and powerful force.

  The Vorcian Imperium has grown from a single star system to more than a hundred worlds. As it has expanded, those of exceptional talent have found their place on the galactic stage.

  Meet some of these exceptional individuals, Mage, sharpshooter, cook, or soldier.

  Welcome to the Vorcian Imperial Chronicles.

  Welcome to the Cadre Files!

  Please note that earlier versions of these stories were published in anthologies. The stories in this compendium are extended and supplemented.

  Introduction to Mara's Honor

  Everyone screws up at some time. Many people try to evade taking responsibility for their errors, but sometimes you just have to own up to the fact that you made a mistake. The consequences can be painful or embarrassing, but the long-lasting effects are controlled by what you do afterward.

  How you act and what you do after a major misstep can determine how the rest of your life will be.

  For Mara, the horror of a penalty posting is unrelenting, but she refuses to give in or give up. All she has left is her sense of duty and honor.

  Will that be enough?

  Mara's Honor

  By Taki Drake

  Chapter One – Svedik

  The air was a brisk -12°C with a blowing wind. Mara pulled her jacket closure a little tighter around her neck, shivering slightly. The walk from her quarters to the outpost’s main offices was less than 10 minutes on a good day, but with snow and high winds it became a bit more challenging to navigate and considerably a significantly longer trip. Over the last few years, she had gotten used to the weather. The cold of the winter days and the extended cold season did not bother her at all. However, she had never fully adjusted to the intense heat of the irregular summers. In her opinion, 48°C was hot no matter where you were. And on a military base, no matter how small, there were only so many items of clothing you could take off and still be professional.

  It was sad, but in many ways, her professionalism and her sense of duty and honor were all that she really had left.

  Her posting here was a result of a long tumble of bad judgments and unfortunate coincidence. Once a rising star in the Chorion Space Force, or CSF, she learned the hard way that abilities and skills without wisdom left you vulnerable to defeat and demotion. It was a lesson that she would never forget.

  By the time that Mara got to the office door, her hands and feet had started to numb. Her eyelashes are frozen, and tears had leaked down the side of her face and frozen onto her cheeks. She ignored them, just like she ignored most of the discomfort of her situation. In some bizarre way, she felt that it was deserved. A way of paying for mistakes.

  The quiet woman began her usual morning routine, straightening the mess left by the evening duty officer and starting the ever-present klava pot. Sitting down at her desk, she placed her palm flat on the authorization plate which scanned her hand and responded with a green light and the cheerful voice of the office AI. “Good morning Lieut. Brown. There are no open reports and no incident reports from last evening and no alerts on the calendar for today. Are there any things that you wish to register?”

  “Thank you, but no, Gareth. I have nothing to add at this time. I’m assuming Officer of the Day responsibilities per regulations as of now.”

  “Very good Lieut. Brown, it is so logged.”

  Intently, Mara focused on making sure that all of her duties were executed well. As the primary officer responsible for oversight of maintenance, including both land and air vehicles, she reviewed the previous day’s activities, checked spare availability, and made sure that all of the vehicles had their mandated inspections and repairs completed. This was normally the easiest part of her day since their outpost had very little activity and vehicle maintenance was driven more by the calendar than by usage. She knew that on many other bases that more maintenance was performed due to high activity, wear on engines and other vehicle components. But in the exile post of Svedik, there was little reason to drive or fly anywhere. The lack of settlers and traffic to the planet made an assignment to this outpost a particularly painful lesson.

  The younger officer was so focused on her thoughts and activities that she did not hear the base commander come into the room until he cleared his throat. Jumping to her feet, she saluted crisply and greeted him. “Good morning, Cmdr. Stephenson.”

  Waving his hand in general acknowledgment, the highest officer at the base wandered over to the klava machine and filled his cup. He was dressed in his usual mixture of civilian and military garb. His garments reflected none of the attention and care that Mara’s did. His uniform shirt was unironed and had a variety of stains on its front. His pants were non-regulation, chosen for comfort rather than any conformance to military guidelines. He was even wearing slippers today. Nice warm slippers.

  Ignoring Mara, who still held her salute in position, he walked through his office door and firmly closed it. Mara knew that she would not see him for most of the day. Only after he closed the door did she bring her arm down.

  When she had first gotten to the base, the Commander had thought it amusing to ignore her salute and stay in the room, trying to see how long she could hold her arm up in midair. He soon tired of it, since her stubborn adherence to military protocol did not wane. Now, he just left her alone. It was too much effort even to torment her.

  Mara braced herself. She knew that if the commander had come in that the XO would follow shortly. Where the base commander was both unprofessi
onal and inattentive, at least he was benign. The XO was different. Unprofessional, yes. Benign, no.

  Venial. Mara had never understood what the word meant until she had met Lieut. Cmdr. Sorensen. Frank Sorensen was the ultimate definition of venial and slimy. Every time that he came within 6 feet of her, Mara was left feeling like she needed a shower. When she had first arrived at the base, he had seen her as a convenient conquest. Her refusal to participate in what to him was a logical relationship infuriated him. When he put additional pressure on her, she was forced to document her discomfort and file it with the Bureau of Personnel. He would never forgive her.

  Knowing that he stood only one substantiated violation from removal from the service, his hands are tied in many ways from retaliating against her. However, there are a million ways that he could make her job more difficult and her stay more uncomfortable. Apparently, he was focused on making sure that each one of those torments was inflicted on her. His attitude and actions had turned a depressing and painful posting into something approaching hell for Mara. Only her determination to do what was right kept her from outright despair. She was clinging to her sense of proper behavior, and her battered honor like a drowning person would cling to a lifeline. Focusing on executing her duty and responsibilities to the best of her ability one day at a time was the only path that she could determine in her late-night soul searching. And Mara was resolved to stay on the path she had chosen rather than repeat the error of letting other people choose her path and consequences for her.

  This morning, the XO was apparently preoccupied with some other activity. He wandered into Mara’s office, ignoring both her morning greeting and her salute. Leaving her standing in the middle the room with her arm raised, he went over to the klava machine and poured a mug full of the beverage. Rather than returning the pot to the machine, he placed it on the counter with a slight smirk on his face. Still ignoring the motionless woman, he left the room, seeming to accidentally dump the folders waiting by the file cabinet onto the floor. The door closed behind him.

  Drawing a relieved breath, Mara released her salute and began to repair the damage that had occurred. The replacement of the klava pot was simple. Mara was on her knees on the floor reassembling the file folders when the door to the office open once more. Tensing as she looked up, the young officer saw the senior NCO of the base, Sergeant Watson. Nodding her head to the man, she picked up the last of the file folders and stood.

  The sergeant was a middle-aged man with a closed face and wary eyes. While he could look intimidating, at the moment, he had a rueful expression on his face as he said, “It is amazing how clumsy our XO is!”

  “Yes, it is. And good morning to you, Sergeant Watson.”

  The NCO had been one of the few nonjudgmental people at the base when Mara had arrived, sick at heart and grieving. He never had treated her with anything but respect, and his ongoing courtesy and lack of negative commentary on her behavior had been a balm to a very wounded soul. The young officer was positive that he probably knew of her demotion from flight engineer to her current position, but he never made slighting comments or give her anything but professional responses. In fact, it was the sergeant that had made a suggestion that since the existing quartermaster appeared to be too ill to execute his duties that perhaps Mara could assist in that area.

  Mara thought that it was an interesting description of a man who drank so much in the evening that he was unable to get out of bed until late afternoon. A crony of the XO, Lieutenant Commander Sullivan had retreated into a bottle on his arrival at the post and showed no signs of wishing to leave the comfort of his alcoholic daze. More used to energetic and filled days than idle time, Mara had been more than willing to help out. She was appalled by the condition of the base supplies, and after collecting written authorization from the quartermaster, she had dug in and expended the energy from her regret and grief on whipping the organization and stocking activities into conforming with military standards.

  She had had faint hopes of garnering a bit more respect and companionship from the remainder of the base personnel when food supplies and other essential items became more available. It was a forlorn hope. With the active dislike of the XO and the apathy of the base commander, Mara was effectively isolated. No one else in the base really wanted to get close to her or be seen as one of her adherents. Only the civilian clerk that worked in the quartermaster’s office and an ensign from flight maintenance were even marginally pleasant to her. Both of them needed to work in close collaboration with her, and she ranked both of them. At least it meant that she had somebody to talk to some of the time. After three years on the base, she thought they even might be starting to like her.

  The day dragged to its inevitable close, just like the previous thousand had done. Mara made sure that all of her reports were filed, that all protocols were completed and waited for the formal turnover of her day to the night officer. Who of course was late. Mara remained in the dark of her office, thinking about nothing much at all. She quietly watched the weather outside, snowing still. The cresting of snow on the outside of the window to the office made her remember snowball fights and sledding of her childhood. How she wished that she could go back and start again.

  Chapter Two – Planetfall

  “Wake up, wake up, Mara!” It was three hours after Mara had gotten to bed. Her relief had been two and half hours late and come in reeling and stinking of alcohol. Despite her misgivings at leaving him in charge, Mara had headed back to her room. Reading for a short period of time, she decided it would be warmer and had crawled in with her book. Apparently, she had fallen asleep because the book was pressed underneath the corner of her face.

  Crawling out of the depths of her exhausted sleep, Mara realized she was being shaken rudely awake by both her clerk and the maintenance ensign. Both of them were hysterical, stammering and talking over each other urgently.

  “What on earth? Ensign, report!” snapped out Mara.

  “I heard the noise and went into the office. The radio’s squawking but no one else is there to answer it, and I don’t know how to do anything with it,” stammered the clerk, Jonas. “I went to get Ensign Sloan because I knew that he was around. We had just finished playing chess so I knew he would still be up.”

  “I’m sorry ma’am, but we haven’t been cross-trained on the radio, and I don’t know what to say. Please, please, could you come with us and see what needs to be done? It sounds really, really important,” added the ensign.

  Mara moved quickly. Because she had planned on getting up after she was done reading to prepare properly for bed, Mara was still wearing the clothes that she had had on during the day. Throwing on her jacket and checking her equipment, she was ready to leave in just a few minutes. She knew that the temperature at this time of night would be severe, so she added an extra head covering and hauled on heavier gloves. Motioning the two men to go ahead of her, she closed the door.

  The wind hit her like a blow to the face. Between the dark and the blowing snow was almost impossible to see much ahead of them. But the men knew where they were going, and Mara followed in their wake. They had made it approximately halfway to the office door when a thrumming snarl from the right warned them of one of the planet’s main predators, the white leopard cat. Preferring to hunt during nights with snow, it was the top of the food chain. Massing out close to 200 kg, it was a deadly hunter with huge claws. Crying out in fear, the clerk turned to run. Slamming his body to the ground, Mara shouted, “Stay still, you idiot!”

  Noticing out of the corner of her eye that the ensign had taken a futile defensive position to her left Mara turned smoothly toward the oncoming predator, her weapon in her hand. Firing the massive projectiles from her service gun, she hit the cat before it leaped. The three closely grouped shots blew the animal’s throat to bloody ruins.

  Keeping her weapon out, Mara grabbed the clerk by the back of his jacket and dragged him upright pushing them toward the office. Before the ensign could even st
op stammering, she gave him a shove in the same direction. Shouting over the wail of the wind, Mara said, “You can send someone out to recover the carcass later. Let’s get to the radio!”

  Mara rushed into the office without bothering to remove garments or to even shake off the considerable amount of snow that she had acquired. The communication unit was still calling, sending a series of code protocols. Settling down in front of the console, Mara stripped off her gloves and laid her hand on the identification plate. The voice of the office AI sounded, saying, “Welcome Lieut. Brown, a priority message has been queued and waiting for approximately 28 minutes. Do you wish to respond?”

  “Yes, thank you, Gareth. I am assuming Officer of the Watch at this time.”

  “It is so logged, Lieut. Brown.”

  Mara’s hands flew over the control pads, entering the memorized counter codes and initiating the required acknowledgments. Shortly after that, a firm voice came over the communications unit.

  “This is the HRS Markham, Major Saltz commanding. We require base assistance including medical, repair and resupply. Authorization Alpha, Gamma, Gamma, Omega.”

  Quickly checking the validity of the codes, Mara responded, “Base beacon initiating in 15 seconds. We stand ready to assist. Svedik Base out.”

  Quickly initiating the timing of the beacon activation, Mara proceeded to sound the alert to the base commander, XO, NCO, base doctor, and commissary. Responses from all but the commander and XO were received promptly. Concerned that there might be a communication fault, Mara sent the clerk off to wake both of the non-responding officers.

  The ensign she sent off to make sure that all of her maintenance personnel and facilities would be ready to help where possible. Running through the protocols and procedures and making sure that nothing had been skipped kept Mara very busy. A pained gasp interrupted her thought and action. The clerk was back, and he was wounded. He looked like he had a broken nose, with blood running down his face. Mara was appalled. Jumping up from her seat she guided the shaken man to sit in her place. Grabbing a towel and pouring cold water on it, she carefully placed the cool compress against his bruised cheekbone. Mumbling through swollen lips, he finally managed to tell her what had happened. She was furious. The XO not coming. Apparently, he didn’t think it was important enough. The clerk then went to the commander’s quarters. The commander had refused to leave his bedroom, directing the clerk to talk to the XO. When the clerk had gone back to the XO to relate what the commander had said, he was struck in the face several times.