Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles 1: Wizard Defiant (12 page)

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“Cadet 832!” said TAC Officer Myers one day during morning formation. “You’re not going to training this morning. Return to your room and put on your battle suit. Then report to Sergeant Hendricks in the armory.

“Sir! Yes, sir,” Richard said. He did as perfect an about face as he could muster. He then took off running to the barracks. Once in his room, Richard removed his clothing and put on his battle suit.

Any idea what’s up, Nick?
Richard said.

I’d say there’s an eighty-six percent chance you are being sent on a mission, Rick. It’s really too bad. I’m surprised since you’re still lacking a lot of training. I’d say it’s been nice knowing you, but I’ll be riding on top of your head. I guess I’ll share whatever terrible fate is in store for you.

Are you joking, or are you serious, Nick?
Richard said as he headed towards the armory.
I always have trouble telling which.

That’s because you have no sense of humor, Rick
, said Nickelo.
But as it turns out, I’m only half joking this time. I think you’re going on a mission. You should probably have started your supplemental training earlier, oh wizard scout extraordinaire.

When Richard entered the armory, Sergeant Hendricks was waiting for him.

“Cadet 832,” he said cheerfully. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me these last few months?”

“Sir! What trouble? I haven’t even seen you in three months, sir.”

“First off, don’t call me, sir,” said Sergeant Hendricks still smiling. “I’m a sergeant. I work for a living. As far as trouble, here it is.”

Sergeant Hendricks reached under the counter and pulled out a box which he promptly set on the top of the counter.

“Hand me your utility belt, 832.”

Richard did so.

Sergeant Hendricks put one hand in the box and lifted out a black holster. He hooked it to the right side of the utility belt. He pulled a large, dull-black handgun out of the holster.

“I made this bad boy as per your specs,” said Sergeant Hendricks. “I don’t mind saying it took every bit of skill my team and I had to get everything right. It was quite a challenge.”

Sometimes, Richard felt he stayed in a constant state of confusion. This was one of those times.

“Sir, er…, I mean, sergeant,” Richard said politely. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Now you’re hurting my feelings, 832,” said Sergeant Hendricks in a tone that assured Richard the sergeant’s feelings weren’t really hurt. “Every wizard scout is allowed to pick out their own personal hand weapons; within reason of course. That normally occurs in a cadet’s senior year. But as you know, these are not normal times. Anyway, I received the specs for your weapons three months ago. I had to hire a team of civilian contractors to help me complete it all in time, but we did it. So, what do you think?” he said as he held out the handgun to Richard.

Richard took the weapon and pulled back the slide to make sure it was empty. It did not have a magazine inserted. “It’s heavy,” Richard commented.

“You bet it is,” laughed Sergeant Hendricks.

“I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, sergeant,” Richard said, “but what is it? No one asked me what kind of personal weapon I wanted. If they had, I’d probably have requested a Deloris blaster or some type of plasma weapon.”

“Yep,” agreed Sergeant Hendricks. “Those would have been my choices as well. But, the specs for your weapons came down straight from the High Command, and they were marked high-priority urgent. Half the junior class had to settle for stock weapons, because most of my team was busy working on yours.”

Nick
, Richard said.
Do you know anything about this?

These weapons are perfect for you, Rick
, Nickelo said.
Trust me. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.

So, did you order this pistol and whatever else he has in that box, Nick? How’d you get it approved by High Command?

I don’t remember ordering them, Rick. But, from what I see and can pick up with my sensors, everything in the box is what I would have ordered for you. Why don’t you just let the good sergeant finish his explanation? You don’t have to fully understand. Just nod your head every once in a while and look appreciative.

Whatever
, Richard growled.

“Okay, Sergeant Hendricks,” Richard said. “I’m impressed. Now, please tell me what this beast of a handgun is. It looks deadly.”

“Oh, that it is, 832,” said Sergeant Hendricks with a note of pride in his voice. “This weapon is a piece of art. It is based upon an antique Terran weapon called a .44 caliber AutoMag pistol. The original weapon looked cool, but it was always significantly underpowered. Consequently, it was never fully appreciated. I was able to keep the look of the original as well as the .44 caliber bullet size. But other than that, it is a completely different weapon. I used high-carbon brerellium steel for the weapon, so it’s ten times as strong as the original’s steel. On the downside, it’s also half again as heavy. For the propellant, instead of gunpowder, the shells use J22 plastic explosive.”

Richard whistled.

“Yeah,” said Sergeant Hendricks with an even bigger smile. “It has one hell of a kick. The slug itself is brerellium steel with a core of depleted uranium. When you fire this baby, it will send a chunk of metal downrange at three times the speed of sound. When I bench tested it, the round consistently penetrated eight centimeters of steel at a hundred meters. I’ll give you a word of warning. Never fire this weapon unless you’re wearing your battle suit. The recoil will shatter your arm.”

“Thanks. I think,” Richard said. He wasn’t quite sure what to think. The AutoMag definitely look deadly, but he wasn’t sure how useful a weapon which fired solid matter would be in combat against enemies equipped with plasma weapons.

“Oh, don’t poo-poo the weapon, 832. I’ll admit, I wasn’t impressed when I first saw the specs, but I think it will serve you well. Because it’s not a plasma weapon, it will be able to get past a lot of the more basic energy shields. I believe a solid chunk of metal may serve you better than a plasma weapon in a lot of situations.”

“Well, thanks, Sergeant Hendricks,” Richard said as he started to take the belt and holster.

“Hold on, 832,” said the armorer still smiling. “I’m not done with you yet. I’m issuing you this one along with three magazines of seven rounds each.” As he said this, he inserted two magazines in the ammo pouch located next to the holster and inserted the third into the weapon itself. “The other copies of the AutoMag and the extra ammo were all shipped out three weeks ago.”

“What other copies?” Richard said. He was so confused he forgot to even ask why the sergeant was issuing him live ammo in garrison. “You made more than one of these? Who else is getting them, sergeant?”

“Hell, yeah, I made more than one,” said Sergeant Hendricks. “I told you half the junior class was issued stock weapons because my team was too busy working on your equipment to work on theirs. What? Did you think I was kidding?”

In truth, Richard had thought the friendly armorer was joking. Richard kept his mouth shut and just shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Sergeant Hendricks. “The .44 caliber AutoMag pistol you are holding is one of fifty-five. The other fifty-four were shipped out three weeks ago along with a hundred thousand rounds of ammo and two thousand extra magazines. The shipment orders said it was all assigned to Wizard Scout Richard Shepard. I’m assuming that’s you, although I wouldn’t advise bragging to your TAC officers that you’re calling yourself a wizard scout already.”

“What?” Richard said. “Why did you make so many of these antique weapons? And a hundred thousand rounds of ammo? That’s crazy! Err…, I mean, sergeant.”

“Don’t worry about it, 832,” Sergeant Hendricks said with a mischievous smile. “I was shocked when I saw the orders as well, and I used words a lot worse than ‘crazy’ to describe my feelings. But, the order was for fifty-five copies of the .44 caliber AutoMag, and it specifically said one hundred thousand and twenty-one rounds of ammo. That’s exactly what I made. And believe me, it cost more credits to make just one of these AutoMags than you and every cadet in your cohort will probably make in the next fifty years.”

Richard’s head was spinning.
Nick, what the hell is going on?

I really don’t know, Rick
, Nickelo said.
But, I’d say someone is investing a lot of resources into you. I’m sure they’re going to eventually want a return on their investment. I hope you’ll be able to pay when the time comes.

“Sergeant Hendricks, one more question if you don’t mind, then I’ll let it be. Where did you ship the extra equipment?”

“I have no idea, 832,” said Sergeant Hendricks. “I’ve worked on top-secret projects before, and they had nowhere near the level of security surrounding this project. The shipment tag came straight from the central computer, and it was fully encrypted. I know for a fact everything was shipped off world because a buddy of mine at the space port helped load the crates onto an unmarked starship. Where it went from there is anybody’s guess.”

“Thanks, Sergeant Hendricks,” Richard said. “You’ve been a big help. Is that all?”

“No, that’s not all, 832. I’m just getting started.” Sergeant Hendricks reached down into the box and presented a phase rod to Richard. “We made a hundred of these. You get this one. The other ninety-nine were shipped out last week. It’s a fully-functionally phase rod, 832. It’s not one of the quarter-powered training versions you’re used to, so be careful. Also, it’s linked to your Power frequency, so it won’t work for anyone else. And I know your propensity for destroying isotopic batteries, so I made a hundred extra just in case. This is not a standard phase rod either, so it won’t work with a generic, isotopic battery. So, don’t go using these batteries like they’re hand grenades or demolition charges. When their gone, their gone.”

Sergeant Hendricks gave the phase rod to Richard.

“Give it a function check. We couldn’t test it fully since we couldn’t emulate your Power frequency.”

Richard took the black tube with his left hand and proceeded to run a function check. The phase rod was basically a modified riot baton created especially for wizard scouts. When stored on the wizard scout’s belt, the phase rod resembled a metal tube the length of a hand. Richard flicked the activate switch on the side of the rod. The rod’s hydraulics thrust a meter long shaft of brerellium with a creallium alloy core out the end of the handle. In this mode, it could be used as a normal club or mace which was useful in non-lethal situations. He moved the charge lever to destructive. Small red arcs of plasma energy immediately began crawling along the entire length of the rod’s shaft. While it was still a battering weapon, when a blow was landed with destructive on, the plasma energy could penetrate the object at the atomic level and tear atoms apart. The effect was almost like having a series of microscopic, nuclear explosions within the struck object. An added bonus of the plasma energy was that it created an energy field which made many creatures nervous and jumpy at close range. That was often useful in a fight. Of course, it could also give the wizard scout’s position away when trying to sneak up on opponents. Richard was told wizard scouts normally kept the charge lever in the non-destructive position until they were ready to use it.

With a nearly simultaneous motion, Richard moved the charge lever to non-destructive and clicked the deactivate switch. The red arcs of plasma energy dissipated, and the shaft collapsed back into the handle. Richard handed the phase rod back to Sergeant Hendricks who attached it to the left side of the utility belt.

“Those things give me the creeps,” said Sergeant Hendricks with a shudder.

“It’s the radiated Power,” Richard said automatically. “A lot of creatures are sensitive to it at short ranges. It can be an advantage during fighting sometimes, but it also means you can be detected if you activate it too soon. Do you have anything else in your box of toys, sergeant?”

Sergeant Hendricks’ normal smile returned as he reached into the box. He pulled out a shoulder holster with another odd-looking handgun in it. “This is a copy of an old Terran 9mm pistol. It uses a seventeen round magazine. The barrel has been screwed to accept a silencer.” He pointed to a finger-sized tube in a pouch on the holster. “When that silencer is attached, you will only hear a small pop when you fire the weapon.”

“Another antique weapon?” Richard said disappointedly. “Can I trade it in for a plasma weapon?”

“You most certainly cannot,” Sergeant Hendricks said. “It wasn’t easy making these things. This is one of one hundred. Here are three loaded magazines. We shipped out extra magazines, silencers, another hundred thousand rounds of ammo, and the other handguns to wherever the stuff is being stored. It’s very mysterious, 832.”

“It’s mysterious to me as well, sergeant,” Richard said. “Is that all?”

“Not quite, 832,” said Sergeant Hendricks. He tipped the box over onto the counter. Out spilled three grenades, a wicked-looking knife, a canteen, and a small, black pack. The pack looked empty.

Richard picked up one of the grenades. “Are these live?” he asked.