Heavier Ordinance (1.0)
The following is an excerpt from a larger story I'm working on; it's seen only rough edits for readability and represents an acceptable 1st draft. I already know which wide swaths of this chapter need to change. But in the meantime, enjoy magic, powers, teamwork, witty dialogue, and a tense battle.
Staff Sergeant Tiffany Couch had never been so happy to watch a man plummet from the sky. It was a curious thing to even consider. But as the wiry man fell towards the earth, his dirty blonde hair tousled by the wind, she couldn't shake the unmistakable feeling that their situation would improve dramatically once he hit the ground. The Army veteran hunkered down behind an uprooted tree and watched.
The man turned over in midair, righting himself right before he hit the tree line. A translucent purple haze covered his body, slowing his descent until his feet grazed the mossy carpet of the frosty Colorado forest. Sergeant Couch sprinted at him, trusting her squad to keep the attention of the monster they'd attracted.
“Glad to have you, Major,” she said, her voice low and tense. “Did Joint Command fill you in on the situa-”
“Jeez, you look like shit.” The new arrival interrupted her, looking past her and into the dense woodland behind her. “MC2 mentioned an 'unidentified hostile mage.' Something about 'hard light.' I'll figure it out as I go.” He shrugged.
“That's not just 'some mage.' That's Verdict, the religious terrorist.” She explained. “He's one of those Manifestations,”
“Like Gracia?” The man asked, wisps of majik still rolling off of him.
“Yeah. They're both Manifestations. But Gracia leads parades and stops riots; Verdict melted half a city block. We didn't expect him all the way out here, but as soon as we snatched the doctor, he showed up, threw up some barrier over the cabin, and shrugged off everything we threw at him. Only th-”
“Have you tried majik?” Impact interrupted again.
“I was saying that only the Soul Fists had any effect, but we're running short on those.”
“Dr. Adeseun is inside the cabin?” The Army Battlemaje looked through the clearing at a strange white dome a hundred yards or so from him.
When the Staff Seargent nodded, Impact kept talking.
“So, you got your ass kicked by a renaissance fair reject, the mission went FUBAR, and then you called for backup. Solid copy. You're really doing us proud out here, Sergeant.” The Major shook his head and looked towards the sound of gunfire and shouts. “Luckily... they sent me. Rest easy and find somewhere to hide while I put this freak on ice.”
“Get down!” Another soldier screamed, and Sergeant pressed her body against the nearest tree for cover. She watched Major Impact stick his hand in front of him, erecting a short, curved wall of the same purple haze that'd slowed his descent earlier. A spear—glowing as if made entirely of harsh white light— flew past her and deflected off of Impact's majikal barrier before it disappeared in the foliage behind them. Sergeant Couch observed fresh disdain cross his face, and the new arrival tugged on the sleeve of his padded bodysuit while advancing in the direction of the latest projectile. “Let's go earn some medals.” The Major grinned, blissfully unaware of the scowl growing on the Staff Sergeant's face
“Gauntlet One. Do you have eyes on Impact? Has he engaged the threat?” The voice rang out in her earpiece.
The veteran soldier pressed her finger to her ear and responded. “Affirmative. Impact is onsite. Dr. Addy's whereabouts are unknown.”
“Solid copy. That VIP and his data are priority 1. Assist Impact if possible, but we need the Dr and his data intact.” The man's answer did little to calm her nerves, but that's why they'd sent Major Impact.
Maj Max Impact ran towards the barrage of hostile majik until his feet no longer skimmed the ground, using his own majik to pull himself into the air through the air. The harsh purple glow of his telekinesis covered him, lifting him off the ground and shunting another incoming volley. Joint Command had mentioned some hostile mage, but Max hadn't expected a hulking titan, clad head to toe in glowing white armor more suited for a fantasy movie than a modern battlefield. But such was the nature of majik and the weirdos who so frequently wielded it.
The monstrous knight menaced him with empty hands, its face obscured by a full plate helmet. A cross had been cut into the helmet, but where Impact expected to see a face staring out at him, he found only a pulsing red glow. Impact didn't spare a thought for the meaning of the symbol, or the runes carved into the mage's armor. Instead, Major Impact swept his hand in front of him, collecting a mound of debris from the forest floor before flinging it at the monster the military had summoned him to subdue. Not content with his first barrage, he wrapped his majik around a felled tree and flinging the oaken pillar directly at the glowing threat.
“I'm supposed to tell you to stand down and come quietly, but I'm really hoping I'll get to beat you to a pulp.” Impact sneered as the tree slammed into the mage, hurling them off the trail and into a nearby thicket. “I'm Major Max Impact of the Liberated Republics of America, but you know that already. Just like you know that you're going to die here, freak.”
Max circled to his left, still a foot above the ground. He kept his hand on his firearm while searching for any sign of the mage. The soldiers chattered behind him, and he was thankful he'd lowered the volume on his earpiece before he'd arrived. Command's nagging was bad enough without adding panicked soldiers to the mix.
“I know who you are.” A voice responded, reverberating through the air, not through his earpiece. The knight didn't have a mouth to speak from, but Impact knew in a moment who was addressing him. “You're a pawn, a criminal, a sick joke. You're also an asshole, but-”
“Says the medieval reject...” The Major cackled.
The knight stood, surrounded by the armed soldiers, evidently prepared to fight them all with empty hands and white armor that radiated a harsh light reminiscent of fluorescent tubes. “The Creator placed the Angels over the Earth, to render their perfect judgment. The truth is simple: I am their Verdict.” His armor pulsed, stinging Max's eyes with a sudden flash that made him thankful for the sophisticated visor attached to his blue and white padded suit. He was less thankful for the earpiece built in, which now inundated him the sounds of panicked soldiers.
“That’s Verdict?”
“The terrorist?”
“Wasn't he the one who blew up Com Bank HQ last year?”
“Nah, he didn't blow up the building. He killed everyone inside.”
“I heard the janitors survived.”
“We are so fucked!”
“Cut the sanctimonious shit.” Impact yelled, using his telekinesis to grab a tree behind the boastful knight and bring it down right on top of him. Verdict lifted his arm and what Impact could only describe as a plate of hard light formed, catching, then shattering the tree. Instead, the knight dashed at him, covering the 10 meters between them faster than Max thought possible for a man—or creature—that size. This Verdict was even taller in person, and nearly as broad thanks to his bulky armor. Max's suit had been designed by military scientists and engineers for aerodynamic air travel, and sufficient protection to stop bullets, plasma, and spells, but Verdict's armor suggested that whoever had designed it had started with the loose idea of a medieval knight and freestyled from there. Red fabric like a bodysuit clung to the man beneath the bulky white armor, and black locs spilled from beneath the knight's round helmet.
A sword materialized in Verdict's hand as he swung it and dissipated just as quickly, particles of light forming from empty air and returning to the same. Max Impact employed his own majik to blunt the incoming strikes, letting them clang harmlessly against the purple miasma wafting from his hands. The knight raged, swapping from his massive scimitar to an even larger axe to a broad spear, wailing away at the military mage's defenses.
Max danced and dodged, leaning on his five years of majikal experience before he hurled himself through the air, cloaked in his majik, and finally bought himself enough time to reach for the firearm on his hip. The rifle hung in the air before it produced a burst of blue-white plasma that hurtled towards the rampaging knight. He watched the knight errant erase the hurtling plasma with a burst of light from his outstretched hand, then add insult to injury and punch his own burst, turning the spherical spell into a projectile of his own, now rushing towards Max. The telekinetic threw himself high into the air to evade the blast. His majik reached down to his firearm, still floating beneath him, and he pulled the trigger of the weapon from 15 feet away. spewing bursts of hot plasma as the Major hurled any debris big or small at Verdict, clobbering him with felled trees, large rocks, and anything else within the reach of his majik.
Verdict burst through the storm of debris carrying a massive plate of white light affixed to his arm like a shield. “Nice try flyboy, now hold this L!” Impact swore as the knight leapt toward him. The wild mage moved faster than anything wearing that much armor should. Impact swerved in midair, partially dodging the axe soaring Verdict's leaping punch and the axe swing that followed. The pain in his side sent Max crashing to the ground, kicking up leaves and debris as he struggled to right himself. Verdict tilted his heavy plate helm at the government mage, and Max noticed two notches above arm of the cross carved into the knight's helmet. The entire carving seemed to glow with an eerie red light that emanated from the center of the helmet, as if there were no head inside it at all. “Ready to say 'night night?' My steps are ordered by the Redeemer, the Angels, and the Divine Presence, not 4-star generals and politicians. You're out of your league, Chair Force.” Verdict drew a line in the air with his finger and a massive, curving sword manifested into his clenched fists.
Verdict swung the blade downwards, but the scimitar buried itself in the translucent purple miasma spreading out from Impact's hand. The hulking, luminescent knight recoiled too slowly to keep the haze from spreading along the weapon and covering his whole body. The Major clapped his hands together, but concern clouded his face when the knight didn't squish into a meatball, didn't even compress. “That's some kinda majik. Most people get crushed like aluminum cans.” Instead, the interloper crashed face first into a nearby tree, still tangled in the throes of Max's telekinetic majik, before the Major flung him over the trees and out of sight.
“Problem solved. Ok Sgt, now where's the... shit. What were you here looking for?” Impact called out, turning towards the tree he'd left the Staff Sergeant hiding behind. “It was a book or something, right? No, wait, it was....”
“We were here to retrieve Dr A-” A new soldier spoke up, eyes darting as if the towering knight might remerge at any moment.
“Don't tell me.... wait I got it. You were here to retrieve Dr. Addition or whatever. More importantly, who the fuck are you?” Impact narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar man crouching besides the Sergeant.
“Captain Jake Basch, 72nd Recon Squad. I'm Gauntlet Actual. Thanks for the assist, Impact.”
“Major Impact. And you're welcome. Where were you when I got here?”
“Trying to see straight. That thing ambushed us; I took the worst of it. Knocked me clean out apparently.” He shook head in apparent disbelief.
“Figured I'd find the officer sleeping on the job.” Impact laughed, only laughing harder when he discovered that no one had joined in his mirth. “Fuck you, that was hilarious. Anyways, my orders were to neutralize the enemy mage. He looks neuched to me. Go do your jobs now.” He ran his gloved hand through his windswept hair and assessed the ruined forest surrounding them. “Which were what again? Rescuing Dr. Addition?”
“Dr. Addy.” The man explained, pivoting to point towards a nearby clearing in the woods.
“Sorry, Dr. Address.” Impact corrected himself.
“No, Dr. Addy. Short for Adeseun. He comes from the Republic of Freed Peoples. Lots of West African family names there.” The captain advised.
Impact dismissed the reminder with a flick of his wrist. “Didn't ask. Don't care. Where's the doctor?”
The Captain and the Sergeant both nodded and walked towards the clearing, where the path led up a hill to a small shack whose top was just visible above the tree line. Even from this distance Max could sense powerful majik radiating off the small wood structure. “Addy ran in there after Verdict ambushed us. Then Verdict sealed it up like that.” The Captain gestured towards the harsh fluorescent glove emanating from every orifice of the building.
“Blow the door off.” Impact explained, gesturing as one might to a large child.
“Tried. Whatever Verdict did to that place, we can't physically touch it anymore. Besides, Command wants the doctor alive. Otherwise, we'd have shot him when we found him. We asked Command about it, and they say the easiest way is to get Verdict to undo it or carry him far enough that it unravels on its own. Or...”
“Couldn't I just kill him? Would that unravel it?” Max reached for his carbine, checking the gun for jams and clearing the chamber with a flick of his fingers before snatching it from its spot hanging in midair. He secured the rest of his skintight, padded flight, including the two handguns he kept as sidearms. When the Captain nodded slowly, Impact lifted himself into the air. “Sit tight kiddos. I gotta go find our freak and ask him real nicely. Wonder what kind of medal they'll pin on me for this one.”
Captain Basch watched the mage lift higher into the air, buoyed only by the purple wisps of smoke emanating from his hands. As glad as he'd been to wake up and see a mage among their ranks, he'd be just as grateful to see Major Impact leave for good.
“I heard that the Major didn't have any before he joined the Air Force.” Basch remarked.
“I heard about some folks being late bloomers. Don't get any majik until their twenties or later. Maybe he...”
“Not a fucking chance.” The officer spat. “With majik like that? The only question is what the Air Force did to him, and why they picked that asshole.”
Impact hovered above the tree line now, looking for any sign of the rogue mage. He'd flung Verdict hard enough to buy them some time, but the cage of hard light surrounding the little wooden shanty was evidence enough the hulking knight was still alive and still in the vicinity. He flew for a minute, guns at the ready, majik primed to snatch anything and turn it into a projectile. Each swaying tree, each bush kissed by the wind was a potential threat.
He loved it.
This was what he'd signed up for. This is what the Air Force'd made him: a weapons platform. The scientists and researchers called him a near perfect match for whatever minor, dormant deity the LRA government had contracted: Enough power to make him great, but not enough to make him a god. Or so the official report said. Max saw the situation differently. In his eyes he was a one-man spellbound gunship. A hunter of predators and freaks. A symbol of hope for civilians, and heavy ordinance for struggling troops out of their depth.
The men and women of the 72nd Recon Squad disappeared beneath him. A minute later he heard the familiar voice of the Warrant Office assigned as his direct connection to the Command's leadership in his ear. “Got eyes on the hostile?”
“Negative. Just trees. And oh shit— Just a deer. Goddammit.” Max said.
“Copy that. Good hunting”
“Feels like Gloucester all over again.” Impact mused.
“Let's hope not. For everyone's sake” The voice in his head shuddered. “God, what a shitshow that was.”
Impact let the voice go silent and tried not to think about what happened that day in Southwest England, the last official mission of the team of mages assembled from a handful of nations for the ostensible mission of international peace, the Paragons.
It was their last official mission because it ended when the leader of the “Paragons” blew up a University and its hospital on international TV.
A bird cawed overhead and snapped the lanky airman from his reverie. A crow? A falcon? Some other, less cool bird? He had no idea. But majik was easier to recognize. For instance: a 2-meter-long javelin made of pure light, glinting against the trees as it hurtled toward him. Max whipped around, brought his hand up and nudged the air in front of him, majikal strong enough to shift the air molecules and shunt, not stop, the oncoming spell. The bolt of white majik slid off Impact's translucent haze and dissipated into the air above him.
Impact dove at the source of the bolt, banking to his left to avoid catching another one. Something else bright and hostile whipped toward him, and he batted away a spinning axe intended for his sternum.
“It hit your hands. Try catching it with your chest next time!” The knight laughed, an ominous rumble that felt like it only came at someone else's expense. Max watched him trace a light in the air and grab the axe that materialized in its wake, swinging it once, hurling it at the approaching airman. Impact moved to slow the axe, to snatch it from the air with his own majik and send it spinning back towards its sender. But the moment he plucked it from the air the translucent golden handaxe dissolved into golden particles that scattered through the air, landing harmlessly on Impact's majikal barrier.
Verdict stood before him, one hand outstretched above him, glowing with an intense golden light. Max feinted, strafed, and finally advanced, hurling one log at his foe and lifting another high into the air for a later attack. “So what's your plan, Verdict? Fight off the whole platoon and walk off with Dr. Addition?”
The tree exploded as it collided with Verdict, sending more particles of light splintering through the air. Impact watched Verdict abandon whatever ritual he'd attempted and resumed his stance, hands low, fists clenched. But there was something different about him. “The angels order my steps. I've never had a problem arriving where I'm needed. But the doctor has a higher calling than 'political prisoner'.”
“When the fuck did you get a cape?” Impact stared at the shimmering sheet of light billowing behind the rogue mage.
“Why is that the thing you're concerned about?” The knight roared, and Max detected new confusion in the taciturn knight's voice.
“Cause it's the only useful spell you've got. Everything else is just medieval bullshit and posturing.” Impact cackled. “Watch!”
Vedict caught Impact's next attack on his shoulder and shrugged it off like a stiff breeze. Impact slid back through the air but couldn't escape the knight's leaping punch, or the combination of blows that detonated against his chest with a final burst of hot white light that sent the military mage skidding along the ground like a stone skipping across a lake.
“People avoid me cause I'm dangerous.” Verdict reminded him, stalking towards Impact with heavy steps.. “But I'm not here to kill anyone. 'Pursue justice, love your neighbor, walk humbly,' and I won't exist. SImple as, kid. I'm only what you've earned.”
“Spare me the monologue. You're a zealot. A radical. You and the whole Creationist cult.” He scrambled back to his feet in a burst of deadly majik. “But if you unwind whatever spell you've got around the doctor, I'm willing to let you scamper back to whatever church you crawled out of...”
Impact's next projectile sailed high and he hoped the knight couldn't see behind him. The telekinetic airman charged at his target, drawing his majik into his own legs. He watched Verdict brace for the impact, then snatched the boulder he'd just thrown and and yanked it back toward Verdict. Max angled his own arc through the air, and his boot and the massive rock collided with the bellicose mage at nearly the same time. Verdict spat an expletive before the twin impacts sent him sprawling. The shining knight flew through a grove of trees before rolling to a stop on a leaf strewn hill.
“Did that majikal... barrier dissipate yet?” Max Impact asked into his earpiece.
“Negative.”
“How the fuck is he still alive?” Max groused, turning back to the apparently still living angelic mage.
“I'm old school like that.” Verdict staggered to his feet. “Don't quit, don't break, don't complain.” Both men noticed the dimmed or cracked plates in Verdict's armor, and the way that they filled in and rebuilt themselves at the expense of the angelic mage's cape. “Come get some, young blood.” Verdict menaced, fists raised.
“It's your funeral, freak.” Max sneered, charging ahead, majik churning around his entire body. He hadn't been given the title of the Liberated Republic of America Air Force's premier mage killer, he'd earned it.
Dr. Samuel Addy cowered in the small wooden shack, unable to see out past the hard white plates of majik that kept the soldiers from capturing him again. He hadn't remembered if they'd introduced themselves as marines or soldiers before they kicked the door down. He didn't know how they'd found him in the secluded Colorado countryside. All he knew was that his research had attracted the wrong kind of attention from the exact kinds of people he'd never wanted to see. Who knew asking questions could be so dangerous?
The advice to 'disappear until things died down' had been oddly prescient and also weeks too late. His sole comfort— save the hulking, glowing knight who'd come out of literally nowhere to assault his captors— was the hope that the other researchers and assistants were faring better than he had.
The shack, too small and too empty, was a prison of its own. He could not leave, but his military captors could not enter, and all that remained of the world outside was the occasional tremor through the ground,threatening to collapse the crumbling shack with himself still inside.
He'd analyzed the nature of his majik prison as best he could. All that remained was to wait for the spell to unwind and discover who be there to greet him.
“Nichols... I want every Soul Fist we have locked on Verdict. It's the only ordinance we have that even staggered that thing.”
The young man nodded at Captain Basch before scrambling to load the weapon. “It's like some kind of demon.” He muttered. “What the fuck...”
“Not a demon.” The Captain gritted his teeth. “We're not that lucky. Couch, any word?”
“They're still going at it.” Staff Sergeant Couch replied through her radio. “Did Command say anything about an artillery strike? Maybe some heavy ordinance? Shit, drop a space needle or something.”
“Negative, Couch. Command says that Impact is the artillery. That's the heaviest ordinance we'll get.”
“Solid copy.” Tiffany said, certain she'd heard the Captain sigh as he delivered his latest status report.
A deafening boom sprayed dust and leaves over everything and demanded the attention of each human in attendance. Whatever Impact and Verdict were doing, they were reaching an imminent conclusion.
Max Impact didn't need a mirror to know how ragged he looked— he could feel the air licking across each of the open wounds striping his arms and chest. He'd long since stopped using his majik to keep the air away from his cuts, not when he needed every ounce of soul he could muster to have any chance of winning this fight. The two firearms that still worked hung lazily in midair, firing intermittently each time he needed to distract, move, or pressure the resolute mage with the still too bright armor. Verdict called himself a manifestation, and a handful of similarly empowered mages claimed the same title, advocating for their persistent belief that a singular being had created everything, each human, spirit, and molecule of matter. Creationism didn't make much sense to Max Impact, but he'd never been paid to think. Impact was a problem solver, an achiever, and this obstinate knight was a problem to be solved.
They traded spells and blows, and for each gash and contusion Impact had earned he'd paid verdict back in kind. Much of the knight's glowing armor had dissipated into glowing white particles, leaving patches of ugly gray beneath. verdict had demonstrated an ability to regenerate his armor and his reserves of majik energy, and Impact had resorted to shooting him, or at him, each time he tried.
Impact faltered as he caught his breath, a momentary lapse in his mastery of his majik, and needed each ounce of his soul to deflect the scimitar that appeared from a ray of light drawn in the air and sliced through the air trying to separate his head from his shoulders. He pushed, pushed, pushed with his entire soul, forcing the knight back, and prepared himself to engage again.
“You don't have to die here, bootlicker.” Verdict taunted. “Fall back. Tell them I showed up, things got hectic, and -urgh!”
Two massive blue shells exploded in quick succession against Verdict's patchwork armor, sending the knight careening through the air and forcing Impact to summon whatever scraps of majik he could to keep himself steady in the face of the blast. Verdict, or what was left of him, landed face down, the lingering majik of the military weapons still sizzling against his armor and in the cloud of debris that hung over everything.
Impact immediately recognized the telltale blue glow of a Soul Fist, the military child of a malignant spell and a bazooka shell. He tore off the remains of his cracked visor and watched for signs of life from the knight. There was no telling what spell he might unleash with his last gasps of light if the spell hadn't totally obliterated him.
“Took you long enough with those Fists, Sergeant. What, were you waiting for an invitation?”
“Hit confirmed on the Soul Fist!” One of the soldiers yelled. “Target is down. Moving to-”
“The hell I am!” Verdict groaned, pushing up to his hands and knees, to the abject horror of every soldier and airman watching him. “I'm not down. I'm just... y’all play too much.” He gasped, drawing two short lines in the air in front of him. One produced a glowing plate of solid majik, as evidenced by the bullets that bounced harmlessly off it. But the second formed an object Max hadn't seen the knight make yet. He strained his eyes and finally recognized it as a horn or a trumpet. Whatever instrument it was, Verdict pulled it to his cracked helmet and produced the most terrifying sound Impact had ever heard, something like rushing wind and audible fury.
TacCom was in his ear a second later, instructing, demanding him to grab every soldier and vacate the area. Each of Max's protests were met with panicked shouts from the Command Post until he finally acquiesced.
The Major pulled every soldier he could see or hear into a single pile of wriggling soldiers and dragged them behind him as he lifted into the air. In his periphery he saw the gray clouds above him beginning to split, pouring forth a golden light. Then he understood the urgency from the command post, and why every fiber of his being had responded with fear at the sound of that trumpet.
“You've gotta be kidding me. No fucking... there's no fucking way!” Max shouted, pulling himself and his human cargo as fast as his faltering majik would carry them, traveling as close to the ground as he could manage. He didn't want to fall far to the ground if he couldn't escape what came next. He flew, and flew, ignoring the piercing, growling voice behind him, and the peals of thunder cracking the sky. Whatever was talking now wasn’t Verdict and didn't speak in English either. It was something else, something he didn’t understand and didn’t care to.
And then the light overtook him and the squad he'd been assigned to assist.
The opaque white shell surrounding the small shack that served both as Dr. Samuel Addy's prison and his refuge burst, dissolving into a million grains of glowing white sand. The doctor pushed past the front door, letting the ruined wood beams collapse behind him. Before him stood the same Manifestation of God's justice that'd saved him from the military earlier. But the Verdict that stood before him now was so much more diminished than he’d been an hour ago. He leaked dim and weathered, and altogether less menacing.
“Samuel... are you a praying man?” Verdict asked, his voice still low and accusatory.
“Sometimes?”
“Then put up a prayer for both of us.” Verdict growled. “N-need every drop of faith you've got.” Verdict's chest did not rise and fall with any sort of cadence, but his movements were more careful, as if he might falter at any moment.
The frightened doctor mumbled a prayer, and the fraying knight swayed on unsteady legs. Verdict's white armor frayed and dissolved as he stood there and the 40 year old doctor struggled to imagine what could have so grievously wounded his shining savior. Fear, hope, and exhilaration gripped the scientist by turns.
Verdict lifted his outstretched hand and a glow gathered in his palm, shining brighter with each syllable from the doctor’s mouth until it finally became too painful to behold.
“Good enough.” Verdict growled, “Order my steps!” The plea came as a shock to the doctor, and Verdict’s sudden shove sent the scientist stumbling backwards. Dr. Samuel Addy watched the Colorado forest grow further and further away as he fell, certain that he would die, dashed upon the rocks waiting below whatever cliff he must have fallen from. How else could he still be falling?
Instinct ripped a terrified scream from his lungs as his back finally hit whatever he'd falled onto. But the surface that broke his fall felt... plush? And his groping hands touched what felt like carpet. Dr. Samuel Addy rolled onto his stomach and found himself on the rug of a brightly lit room somewhere that was clearly not a chilly Colorado forest. A smiling woman greeted him and he recognized her face even before he saw the warm yellow light of the halo fixed above her head.
She was Gracia, and he truly was saved.
Gracia served as the heavenly manifestation of the Savior's grace and love and hope. Her glowing hair and wings of pure golden light identified her as a mage, but her warm smile and cheery countenance marked her as the continent's most universally popular hero, friend to the needy and the suffering and the faithful wherever they might be. Samuel clambered to his knees and offered a prayer of thanks.
“Don't get starstruck yet.” Behind him, Verdict's voice was a bucket of cold water. “We brought you here for a reason, Doc. We got work to do. All of us. My part was to get you here. Gracia, Wis, tell him what comes next.” The massive knight walked past the other two members of his group, shaking his helmeted head. “That flyer hits like a truck. Didn't think having a tree dropped on me would hurt that bad.” He muttered to himself.
Samuel noticed for the first time that of Verdict's hair glowed too, and that twisted locs spilled from the bottom of the back of Verdict's helmet. Could there be a head inside that majikal helmet after all? He resolved to ask him later, or more safely, to ask someone else who knew him better.
“We heard the news. Verdict, I thought we agreed you wouldn't blow Judgement's Trumpet?” Gracia turned to her fellow mage and put her hand on the fraying threads of his armored shoulder.
“No, you asked me not to. I tried. Things got.... wild. Pretty Sure Impact saved most of the boots anyways.” Verdict shrugged. “Doctor's safe. That's the important part.”
“Well, yes, but my research, and my laptop, they're still back in C-C”
“You're more important than your research, Doctor.” Gracia explained. “Dr. Sepulveda is in the back as well. Dr. Liao is still at large, or so we heard. Verdict's too blunt, like always, but I think you know why the LR wants you and your whole lab in custody. The real question is what they want to do with you once— or if— they have you.”
The Doctor nodded: it'd taken more weeks of sleepless nights to fight for his research and defend his dissertation. Why should fighting for his own life be any easier? At the very least, there hadn't been any angels at his side while he earned his doctorate in majikal studies.
“Captain Basch, do you copy?” The voice on the radio buzzed. One of the soldiers picked it up and handed it to him.
“Copy. I'm here. Dr. Addy is gone. One of my team retrieved the storage drive from the laptop,” He explained, flashing a thumbs up to the soldier who'd pulled the small solid state drive from their pocket. “But everything else is gone. I don't know what that sound, or that explosion was, but we need an evac, stat. I've got wounded here.”
“Recovering the data is a good start. Good work. But we need that doctor. And Captain, that explosion was the majikal equivalent of a million pounds of TNT. Same as what hit that bank's headquarters two months ago. Tell your team congrats: they just survived strategic ordinance. Majikal, strategic ordinance.”
“Can’t say I’ve had a nuke dropped on me before. I'm sure they'll appreciate knowing what we lived through.” He deadpanned. “Now where's-”
“Where's the Major?” The staff from the Command Post demanded.
“In the wind. We all went down after that blast, but he flew off immediately afterwards. Mumbled something about someone owing him a new suit and a good reason...” Captain Basch didn't need to hear the specifics of the shouting happening in the command post to understand that Major Max Impact's whereabouts were unknown to them as well. He'd heard that they put trackers on military mages like Impact, but knew better than to ask. “Now... about that evac?” He inquired, already hoping to never see another wisp of majik again.
Impact answered the radio in his suit on its 3rd attempt to reach him. Or maybe the 4th. He was too angry to remember or care.
“Major, Capt Basch said that you left the AOR. I expect to see you in my office in 15 for the debrief” The Colonel explained, half a warning and half an offer to the Major who was an Air Force fighter pilot in every way except for his lack of a jet plane.
“Sir, we can debrief here. I’m clear and the FOB is a 30-minute flight from here. These comms are secured for Top Secret, right?” He growled, sitting cross-legged in the air too high to be anything more than a blip in the sky, too low for planes to see.
“Besides, Colonel, I didn't know the terrorists had heavier ordinance than we do. Wanna debrief me on that? I didn’t know I was supposed to play nanny for a bunch of Second Lieutenants and Sergeants with peashooters. Fill me in there.”
“That's not how a debrief works, Max.” Came the stern reply. “You're going to-”
“Do whatever the fuck I have to keep this country safe, Colonel. I just wish I didn't have to do all the heavy lifting my goddam self.” He spat. “One of us can fly and one of us can shut the fuck up.”
The conversation only deteriorated from there, short tempers subsuming any semblance of reason or empathy. How could Max be expected to solve a problem like Verdict with minimal resources or assistance? How could the Command Post be expected to brief an airman who almost famously didn't listen? The former pilot turned loops in the air, growing more and more enraged.
“I'm just tired of being set up to fail, sir. Maybe that fucking disaster at Gloucester really was just standard operating procedure.” He growled, plucking the earpiece and the transmitter from his suit and flinging them towards the horizon. Major Max Impact would once again rely on the only dependable squad member he had: himself.
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