TRADE PARK BATTLE
A Story Of Ranger Eric Stahl
There are some days that change a person. Then there are some days that can change the course of the Empire. Then, there are the days that do both. Mine started on what should have been a day of peace. The Empire had been basking in the glory of its triumphant Red Lake Campaign for the past ten years. The Imperial Armed Forces had taken what had been a normal border battle between Imperial Army forces and a large force of Dark Towers creaturs and had begun a five-year campaign that had ended with the Human Empire seizing the vital Red Lake. The Red Lake was the largest body of fresh water on the continent and fed three major rivers, one of which flowed into the heart of the Dark Towers’ territory. Control of the Red Lake meant control of the majority of the water ways. With the Imperial Navy’s “brown water” section as strong as it was, the Human Empire could project its force deep into the Dark Towers’ territory. It had been a costly campaign, though. Nearly four hundred thousand human and elven soldiers as well as hundreds of aborigines were killed in the brutal campaign, and several times more were injured. It was generally believed that casualties on the other side must have been severe also because no Dark Towers’ forces started up the familiar violent cycle since the establishing of the ten-kilometer perimeter around the lake. Usually, one of the Towers would have mobilized a large enough army to put constant pressure on the border. They hadn’t this time. There had only been sporadic raids along the border and into the northern territories. It was as peaceful as it had been on the continent since humanity had first encountered the Dark Towers and their minions. The Empire was pleased. Everyone knew it was going to take time to incorporate the hundreds of square kilometers that had been just added to our territory, but that was expected, and quite frankly, heavily anticipated. Over the past decade enterprising people started their way north to claim homesteads and to start up businesses near the forts and magrails that had helped push our armies forward. It would take time before all of the territory was formed into sectors. In the meantime, our new territories had been divided into four governorships. It was rough for people in those areas. I knew. I had just finished an eighteen-month stint with the third governorship that stretched the southern border of the new territory– what had been the Human Empire’s northern border just fifteen years ago.
My name is Eric Stahl, and I am a soldier in the Imperial Security Ranging Patrol Force, better known as the Imperial Rangers. Imperial Security was the branch of the military designated to handle internal threats, and the Rangers were the long range scouts for the regular garrisons. It was the Rangers that did most of the patrolling in the vast open lands between the various territorial cities, allied towns, free towns, and homesteads. Primarily, the Rangers were looking for Dark Towers’ forces that managed to open a portal within our territory and send out a mess of orcs or goblins. Once Rangers find those nasty creatures, we can call in whatever Imperial forces are around, assuming a communications airship is available, or we can deputize whatever civilian forces are available. We also round up bandits as well as ensure the free towns – those towns that refute Imperial allegiance – stay on the straight and narrow. Just because people don’t want to join the Empire doesn’t mean they can go around and cause trouble for the Empire. Rangers make sure of this. We also did small things like handle small citizen disputes, and occasionally assist local law enforcement with problems.
I was considered a pretty decent Ranger, even without the advantages that my powers gave me. Considering both the rigorous nature of a Ranger’s duties and our generally reserved attitude, it was high praise from my colleagues. It was also the reason that I had been detached from normal duty station of the Tam Bay sector on the west coast of the Imperial Peninsula and sent north to the third governorship, which the residents just called the 3G. The 3G had become a hotbed of bandits, hostile freetowns, and leftover Dark Towers’ forces. To make matters worse, the Imperial Security forces - including the Rangers – in the 3G were corrupt and adding to the horror. The violence and chaos in the 3G had deteriorated enough that the Emperor had formally directed Imperial Security to replace its current leadership with new ones and to take control of the 3G and reestablish stability. Just to back it up, the Emperor also placed an entire Imperial Army division at the disposal of Imperial Security – something rarely done, and a true indicator of how incensed the Emperor was over the situation. Rangers from all over the Empire were assembled and tasked with reforming the Rangers in the 3G into a viable and honorable force, something we hadn’t anticipated when we first arrived on station.
The first six months had become known as the “Rangers’ Civil War.” It was perhaps one of the darkest incidents in my life. I hated seeing those soldiers who wore the same famous silver star on their uniforms so disgracing our traditions, and I hated that I had to find them and kill them. The Rangers didn’t tolerate those who disgraced us, and our enemies knew it. There were several pitched battles, and we ended up seizing a lot of free towns that harbored the excommunicated Rangers. We didn’t get all of the traitors, but we forced enough of them out that the citizens of the 3G no longer cringed when they saw a Ranger riding through.
Then came the hard work of fully stabilizing the governership. The real fun of that part was meeting and establishing relationships with the various aborigine tribes. Rangers have a long history of amicable relationships with aborigines, but we had no problems with hunting down tribes that decided to raid Imperial settlements. It was the newly reestablished Rangers that began negotiations with the tribes of the 3G to enlist the aborigines’ aid to ensure the safety of Imperial citizens within the 3G. It was hard work, but the four major tribes of the 3G had finally agreed that humans in their territory were not to be raided, and that trade was allowed between the human settlers and the tribes. Some of those agreements had been cemented during a particularly nasty fight between Rangers, Imperial Security forces, the tribes, and nearly ten centuries of orcs with accompanying goblins. The Battle of Black Rocks began when an Imperial Security company had found the main stronghold of the Dark Towers within the 3G. Then, as the saying goes, the company threw a battle, and everyone came, including the aborigines, and myself. My stint finished with the 3G just about to be broken into the new Utalla and Ypres sectors. For my service, I had been awarded a silver chit (for my assistance with the negotiations with the aborigines), a gold chit (for my actions during the Battle of Black Rocks), as well as a nice promotion to Warrant Officer First-Class. I got the feeling from the governor that if I had asked for a commission, I would have been made a lieutenant on the spot and given part of the Ypres sector. I was grateful that the authorities thought highly of my work, but I wanted to return to the humid grasslands of the Tam Bay sector. Before I did that, though, I decided to do something I rarely did. I took a week of leave and went to visit my mother in New Town.
I had nothing personally against my mother, but our relationship was effectively stunted the moment I realized that her marriage to my father had been only an alliance between her aristocratic family and my father’s commercial family, and I was essentially the part of the deal that benefited my father’s family. That is not to say that she spurned me or didn’t show me affection. It was just that she just relinquished the majority of her parenting duties to my father and his family so that they could groom me to work in the family firm. After all, I was a first born. When my father was killed in an orc raid on one of our holdings, my mother promptly packed up my sister and their belongings and returned to her hometown of Liberty. I was left to my father’s family raise. I was fifteen. The family shrink said I developed abandonment issues. She wanted intensive therapy to help me deal with my rage – especially in light of my burgeoning powers. Instead, I followed the advice of my grandfather. On my eighteenth birthday, I joined Imperial Security and became a Ranger. Grandpa was right. The Rangers gave me a sense of belonging and a mature outlook on my life. My earlier resentments dissipated and I settled into the rough and tumble life of an Imperial Ranger. It annoyed my father’s family that I didn’t resign after my first hitch, but Grandpa and my Uncle Dennis laid down the law. I was allowed to be a Ranger for as long as I wanted, and my family wasn’t to bother me about it. They still did, but they were at least subtle enough that I could ignore them without being rude.
My mother had returned to her social circle in Liberty and ended up marrying the Lord of Manattan in New Town. I didn’t like Stephen much, nor his eldest son, but I could tell he was truly in love with my mother, so I did my best to maintain a civil relationship. Being a lord and a politician, Stephen recognized my gesture for what it was and returned the sentiment. His eldest son, George, on the other hand, continued acting like a spoiled aristocratic brat. Fortunately, George and his younger brother Timothy were commissioned officers with the Imperial Army and they were gone when I visited my mother. I had hoped to see my sister, but she was attending school in the capitol city of Crash.
The day started normally. I had been in New Town for a couple of days already, so there was no more standing on ceremony. By long ingrained habit, I had awoken an hour before dawn to do my daily chores. At five-thirty in the morning, the only people roaming about Manattan Keep were some of the cooks and a few of the personal servants. My mother and her husband wouldn’t be down for breakfast until eight in the morning, so activity was kept to a minimum. Some of the servants grinned with amusement as they saw me go through my morning ritual. First, of course, was PT down in the Keep’s gym. A half-hour of running on the treadmills and some weight work wasn’t as much as I normally did, but it kept me in shape while I was on leave. I spent the next hour on my weapons and gear. I cleaned the firearms, sharpened and oiled my saber, checked the action on my retractable spear, and made sure that my riding and personal gear was in order. I still had a few days left on leave, but a Ranger is always ready at a moment’s notice. It was a tradition as old as the Rangers themselves, and I had no idea that the tradition would be so important that day. As soon as I was satisfied that I had fulfilled my obligations, I cleaned myself up for the coming day. Then I went to meet with Halle.
I had no real problem with the personal assistant that my Stephen’s chief of staff assigned to me during my leave. As the stepson to one of the six district lords – one who was also making a name for himself as a firebrand for the Liberal Party in the House of Lords – I was perfectly aware of how the media and Stephen’s political opponents were watching me. Personally, I didn’t care, but part of my maintaining a civil relationship with my stepfather was not putting myself into a situation that could have problems for his political career. Stephen had never asked me to pretend to support him or his politics – which I vehemently didn’t – and in return for that consideration, I didn’t make my opposition public. I even occasionally showed up at one of the numerous little affairs that usually took up an aristocrat’s daily schedule. Which is why I had Halle to remind me of those affairs that were more important than others. I looked down at my watch. It was seven in the morning. I suddenly started feeling a little queasy, but I just chalked it up to needing something to eat. Even I sometimes forget to pay attention to the little things.
Halle had her normal strained smile on her face. She tried to mask it, but I knew she despised having to work with me. One of the advantages of having my powers was that it was almost impossible for people to hide how they felt. I am a psychic, primarily an empath. I can sense emotions. More than that, I was an empathic hunter. Once I had someone’s unique psi-scent, not only would I recognize it again instantly, but I could track the person from the “ghost” emotions that people leave trailing behind them. Amongst psychics, I am considered to be a very powerful empathic hunter, which was a problem until I learned how to control it. Most of the time, I just felt a person’s psi-scent and whatever strong emotions are running through them. Opening my empathy fully could be overpowering even in small cities like Tam Bay, much less the sprawling metropolis of New Town. Still, I enjoyed my powers, even those other powers that I didn’t use very often. They were part of what made me a successful Ranger. I don’t think Halle was told exactly what I could do, but there was something about me that she didn’t like. It’s not like I have telepathy. I couldn’t read her thoughts. I sat through her telling me Stephen and my mother’s schedule, informing me what invitations had been offered to me by individuals and organizations hoping to make inroads with Stephen, and reiterating once again how I needed to watch my decorum. At first, that last part annoyed me. After all, I had been in the military for nine years, almost all of that time as a Ranger. Rangers were expected to maintain a professional attitude no matter what. When a Ranger is dealing with feuding homesteaders, deceitful free townspeople, bandits, and aborigines, that professional attitude could be just effective as the weapons we carried. Then I came to the realization that Halle had absolutely no idea what the military demanded of its Rangers, and she wouldn’t even if I explained it to her. After that, I just ignored her and concentrated on finishing my leave without incident. It was seven forty-five when the two of us began to walk to the dining room to join Stephen and my mother for breakfast. As the two of us walked along the plush-carpeted hallway, the dizzying wave of power hit me. As I collapsed to the floor amidst Halle’s startled scream, my mind made the logical jump. Someone had just let loose some powerful magic in Manattan. Magic that powerful could only mean one thing – it had been something from the Dark Towers.
I scrambled back to my feet and ran the distance to the dining room. Stephen’s head of security was a former Praetorian and a minor psychic as well, and although we had a personal dislike, we were both professionally respectful. As I entered the room, I saw Stephen on the telephone with his head of security, Major Higgins, leaning up against a wall next to him. Higgins and I traded a look and both of us knew that the other had felt the wave. Since his powers were nowhere near my level, the wave didn’t affect him as strongly as it did with me. My mother was sitting at the table looking like nothing was wrong, but I knew that she was nervous. She knew that something was going on, but she didn’t know exactly what. Stephen glanced up at me as I came into the room. He didn’t say or show anything, but there was some measure of relief as I came into the room. I pulled Major Higgins off to the side to get whatever information I could. Something bad was happening, and I was a Ranger. I needed to be a part of the action.
“I know you felt that too,” I said, “Do the elves know what just happened?” There was a large community of elves that lived in Manattan and another in Brooklyn. Elves had been allies with the Human Empire since shortly after humanity crashed on this planet. The elves, unlike humans, could cast magic, and they had contributed heavily to our understanding in how it works. I say our, as in humanity in general. I had the principles of magic explained to me more than once in school and during training to become a Ranger. It just never made sense to me. Major Higgins looked at me and then shook his head.
“The lord is speaking with the Earl of New Town,” Higgins said, his voice still uneasy. I wish I could have known what he was feeling, but being a former Praetorian, Higgins had some strong mental defenses. “He sent two of my people down to the elven temple to see if the elves will give him a liaison. What are you going to do?”
“I am going to go get geared up,” I told him, “That was too strong of a power wave. The Army and Marines will take a while before they are ready to assist and Imperial Security only has a little over a battalion of troops in the entire city and only a company of those are on this island. They’re going to need every trained soldier that they can get their hands on.” I thought for a moment. “Is he going to call the bases?”
“That’s up to the Earl,” Higgins answered. I cursed under my breath. By long tradition, Imperial Security soldiers were under the direct command of the local aristocracy, usually the earl of the city. New Town was odd in that each of the districts had a company of Imperial Security troops assigned under each of the district lords. Although there was a big Army base in Bronx and a naval base in Brooklyn, those soldiers and marines were under direct Imperial control and couldn’t become involved unless either the earl asked for them or the Emperor directed them to become involved. It was one of those power checks that must have sounded good when the Empire was being organized, but too many of the earls thought it would make them look weak to call on imperial forces instead of relying on their own Imperial Security troops and law enforcement officers. I was a Ranger, and therefore Imperial Security, so I had no problems about becoming involved.
“Do we know where the wave originated?” I asked. I was pretty sure it was on the island, but the wave was so powerful, I couldn’t determine exactly where it could have come from. All I did know was that it had erupted somewhere in New Town, and I would have to get to where it had originated as fast as I could.
“No, but I will let you know where when we find out,” Higgins said, “Go get your gear, and tell the Keep’s armorer I said to release anything else that you need.” It was at that point that I realized the true depth of what was happening. I spent days arguing with Higgins about keeping my weapons in my room rather than the Keep’s armory. He didn’t trust me, even beyond the normal professional paranoia of a bodyguard. If he was encouraging me to take up arms, Higgins was really worried about what was happening. I wasted no time, saluted Higgins and Stephen, and raced back down to my room. I had to get ready. It was eight o’clock in the morning.
I really didn’t like wearing the body armor, but it had saved my life more than once. The main component was the flak jacket. It covered my chest and stretched down to a skirt. It was made of a lightweight, cut-resistant fabric with layers of cloth and embedded steel plates that could protect against most things that the Dark Forces or bandits could throw at me. The jacket had matching bracers and grieves, which were annoying, but would keep my limbs from being removed if I met up with a nasty orc and its battle axe. A helmet of fabric-covered steel completed my combat armor. I belted the helmet to my waist. I hated wearing the thing unless I had no other choice. Until then, the traditional black Stetson hat would stay firmly on my head. The web gear went over the combat armor with its myriad of pouches for ammunition and the various items that a soldier would need in combat. The pistol and carbine were newest Army models, specifically designed with the lessons learned in the Red Lake Campaign. The saber, on the other hand, was ancient by comparison. It had been by my side since I had first put on the silver star within a circle that proudly proclaimed me as a Ranger, and it had been by my grandfather’s side when he put on the same star and helped tame the Tam Bay sector in its infancy. I could feel a certain sense of power every time I picked up the sword, like the comforting sense that the spirits of Rangers of old were watching over me. It was a comfortable feeling. I placed the shaft of the retractable spear in its holder on my back. The regular army rifles had the spring loaded spear built into them, allowing the infantryman to keep the huge monstrosities of the Dark Towers out of lethal arm reach. Rangers carried the smaller carbine that lacked that particular feature, so we carried a retractable spear that went from a half-meter rod to a two meter pole arm with heavy brackets to keep the orcs and other things from sliding down the shaft. The point was actually one of my bayonets. They were designed to punch into a creature and stay there to keep the wound open, and were easily released. I usually had three bayonets on my person and another half dozen on my horse. I was about to head down to the stables when the phone rang on the bedside stand and Major Higgins voice filled the receiver. “It’s at the Trade Park.”
The Trade Park was an old commercial district at the south end of Manattan Island which had been rebuilt in the last ten years into a modern commercial and financial center. It held the headquarters or branches of most of the top firms in the empire, including one that belonged to my family’s firm. If the Dark Forces were attacking there, I didn’t have the time to properly saddle up my horse and ride down the island. I ran up to the roof of the Keep. As I looked to the south, I saw the three large towers of the Trade Park. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but I could feel evil emanating from the towers. Gathering my strength, I took two steps and leapt off the roof.
Telekinetic flying is difficult to the untrained. I literally have to mentally lift up my own body weight and the weight of everything that I was carrying, and then constantly keep myself propelled with a wagon wheel of telekinetic energy. To do it with any type of speed requires intensive instruction, which is why the wonderful folks at the Psi-Academy train a person so hard once the instructors know the psychic has enough telekinetic strength to do it. It had taken me weeks of work before I could fly properly. It had taken weeks longer before I could do it without having to consciously maintain every small detail. This was important, because at the moment, having to concentrate on the act of flying across the city was the least of my worries. As I streaked across the sky, I began to feel the vile psi-scent of the Dark Towers coming from the Trade Park. It was strong and powerful, more than anything that I ever felt before. I tightened my hand around the pistol grip of my carbine as the tall buildings of the Trade Park loomed in front of me. The three large towers were in a triangle phalanx at the south end of the island, each topping off at twenty stories. I heard stories that humans used to construct buildings well over a hundred stories, but on this world it was difficult enough to build to fifteen stories without the constant needs of the military driving up the price of building materials and construction equipment. Running down the east and west sides of the Trade Park were several smaller buildings that surrounded a large park. The peaceful lawns and fountains looked incongruous with the Prowler armored personnel carriers parked in front and the Imperial Security soldiers milling around.
I landed with a thump, getting several weapons trained at me from nervous soldiers. Imperial Security rarely saw any heavy action this far south, so most of the troops were rarely experienced fighting against anything more than the constant goblin infestation. This was something much worse, and they knew it – and were terrified. An officer with captain’s bars appeared from the crowd and approached me as I stood up. I saluted quickly, and read his name badge. COLBERT. “Ranger Stahl, reporting for duty, sir.”
“Where did you come from Ranger?” the Captain Colbert asked. His psi-scent told me he was confused, scared, and more than a little relieved at my arrival. “Are you from the Praetorians?”
“Not on your life, sir,” I answered firmly, “I actually like being out in the field. I’ve just got some power behind me, is all. Technically I’m on leave, but I felt the power wave from whatever has infested the Trade Park and headed down here. What do you need from me, sir?” The captain seemed satisfied with my answer, and I began to see how young he was. He was probably a few years out of one of the military academies, and he was so nervous I was surprised he wasn’t trembling. I got the distinct impression from the captain’s and his lieutenants’ emotions that Colbert was new to the company.
“All right, I’ve got my company here and the Manattan district of the New Town PD is sending its Emergency Response Team down,” the captain said. “That gives me an additional platoon’s worth of armed personnel, and you. I don’t know when any other forces will be getting here.” He didn’t look happy with his forces. Neither did I. Not looking at the massive towers. I could just imagine the havoc that could be wreaked in those monoliths. Worse, we didn’t have an exact location for the Dark Towers’ forces.
“Are the elves coming?” I asked. We would need them to destroy the portal or portals that the Dark Forces had managed to open. Plus, the elves would be able to localize where the Dark Towers had opened the portals. Captain Colbert just shrugged his shoulders. I really didn’t want to do the locating myself, but I didn’t see any other option. At least not one that didn’t involve putting the Imperial Security soldiers on the pointy end of the stick. My own distaste and discomfort paled in comparison to lives being lost needlessly. “Captain, would you excuse me for a moment? I need to find out where our enemy is.” He gave me a goggled-eye nod and I walked a few meters away from the company. I closed my eyes and let my psi-senses open up fully.
The putrid psi-scents blasted through me with almost enough force to knock me off my feet. I was used to picking up forces of at least a century’s worth of orcs, but this was much worse. The Center Building and the Kromer Building burned with the scent of thousands of orcs, goblins, and hobgoblins. It was completely beyond the scope of anything I had dealt with before. This wasn’t a raid. This was an invasion.
I tore myself away from the Center and Kromer buildings to take closer looks at the rest of the Trade Park complex. With great relief, I felt none of the unique vileness of the Dark Towers emanating from the other buildings. My task completed, I pulled back my psi-senses to their normal levels. I looked up and felt the concern coming from the Imperial Security troops around me. They looked worried, and I could feel the anxiety and fear that permeated the company. I wished that I could comfort them, but what they faced was far worse than they expected. I carefully closed down my empathic senses to a manageable level and carefully walked back to Captain Colbert. I was still a little unsteady, and I didn’t want the troops to see it. It would have gone against the Ranger tradition.
“Captain, we need the Army and the Marines,” I said. I hoped that I was still living up to the stoic Ranger tradition, and I was a little scared that the gravity of what I had felt was being conveyed by my body language and tone. “We also need the elves to get down here immediately to counteract whatever magic has been used to open the portals.”
“I’ve already spoken to my battalion commander,” Colbert answered, and I could feel the frustration that was behind his words, “He’s trying to get the other companies down here from the other districts, but so far only the Queens and Brooklyn companies have departed. The Earl has refused to ask for Imperial support, and my colonel won’t discuss it further than that. As for the elves, I just don’t know. They haven’t said anything as far as battalion knows.” He was frustrated, angry, and completely lost as to handle the situation. It was just something that no one had contemplated, and therefore, no had trained for the scenario. I couldn’t comprehend why the lords and the Earl of New Town hadn’t thrown all of their resources into the growing problem, but I had to guess that they were unaware of exactly how grievous the situation was. Shaking my head, I began to focus on what could be done at the moment.
“Captain, sir, I respectfully suggest we get NTPD down here to evacuate all of the buildings except for Center and Kromer. Our enemies are in those buildings,” I began, using the famous tone of a knowledgeable subordinate respectfully ordering his not-so-knowledgeable superior to do the right things. Thankfully, Colbert was fully receptive to this and pulled his platoon leaders and sergeants into the discussion. “We need to get a message to the elves directly. Where’s the nearest temple?”
“Tenth Street, Ranger,” one of the sergeants answered, “I can have a runner there in five minutes, sir.” The sergeant directed his comments at the captain, but it was understood who the real recipient of the comments was. Colbert may have been a shiny new captain, but his officers and noncoms were obviously experienced with how operations went. They may not have had to fight anything stronger than a bunch of goblins, but they could recognize someone who had, and they would rely on my “advice” as much as they could.
“No, ask NTPD to get me one of the temple elders,” the captain answered before I could make the same suggestion. I nodded in response, and I made a mental note to mention the captain to Stephen. This man was thinking on his feet and was willing to swallow his pride to listen to the advice of a warrant officer. It was a rare combination, especially in Imperial Security units so far from the border. Too many of those unites were used as “safe” positions for well-connected officers. “Anything else, Ranger?”
“Two actually, sir,” I answered, respectfully, “First, we need to get any and all active and inactive reserves that show up organized and ready for action. Secondly, I need to get a hold of the Ranger station in Queens. That would give us a dozen Rangers, assuming they are already not on their way down.”
“You really think that reservists will show up?” asked one of the sergeants.
“They will if the captain asks for them,” I replied. The officers paled at the suggestion. A consequence of humanity’s almost constant warring with the Dark Towers was the large numbers of people who had served their obligatory tour with the military. About twenty percent of the population was on active reserve, ready to be called up to serve if needed. Another thirty percent of the population belonged to the inactive reserve. These were men and women capable of fighting, but were not current on their training. These were to be called up only in cases of extreme need. Usually, only the Ministry of Defense could call up the reserves, but there was a legal proviso allowing commissioned and warrant officers on scene to call up the local reservists to assist in a conflict. Rangers used this frequently in the field to form posses against Dark Towers and bandits. Unfortunately, with the rigid aristocratic tradition of the Imperial Security commissioned officer corps, junior officers were reluctant to do anything so audacious that might reflect poorly on their superiors’ judgment. After all, if the colonels and generals didn’t think the reservists were needed, who was a mere captain to question their exalted decision. The problem was that the colonels and generals were having their hands tied by the Earl and the lords, and Captain Colbert needed to shake things loose, or at least, get enough troops to do his job properly. There was another thing that needed to be done, but I had said enough shocking things for the officers. I would have to wait to see if I needed to go dig up more reinforcements on my own.
As our group continued speaking, New Town police began showing up in force. Cars with emergency lights blazing encircled the front of the Trade Park as four, old Hatchet APC’s drove up to where the Imperial Security soldiers were standing. Police officers in older body armor and carrying sub-machine guns climbed out of the Hatchets and began forming up ranks with military precision. The officer in charge, Lt. Horngren, watched his police officers for a moment, and then walked over to where the Imperial Security officers and sergeants and I were standing. I knew Lt. Horngren from a reception that I had attended shortly after I arrived in New Town. He and I had quickly struck up a friendly acquaintance over a long conversation at the party, and I was glad to see him. I knew he was experienced in the kind of hard fighting I was expecting from his time in the regular Army before he had joined the police force.
“Captain, Lt. Horngren, NTPD,” he introduced himself, with a casual salute, “What do you need my people to do, sir?” It was direct, professional, and exactly what was needed.
“Ranger Stahl has localized the Dark Towers in the Center and Kromer buildings,” Colbert answered. Lt. Horngren gave me a suspicious look, so I pointed to the Psi-Academy tab on my uniform. Apparently satisfied with my unspoken explanation, Horngren turned back to Colbert, who continued without any outward acknowledgement of the exchange. “I don’t know when the rest of Imperial Security is going to arrive, but we need to get those people out of those buildings. Regular NTPD can evacuate the rest of the buildings.” Colbert was definitely following Imperial Security’s mission, but I was unsure if the forces on the ground were sufficient for what he was asking.
“Captain, I understand your sense of duty to get the civilians out of harm’s way, but there’s a ton of bad guys in those buildings,” I interjected, “If you send in the troops now, I don’t think you would be able to hold against any determined attack. It would be best if we set up a perimeter around the buildings and waited for additional forces, either from Imperial Security or from the NTPD.” Horngren and the others in our huddle seemed to agree. Colbert looked northward to the growing encampment of regular police and rescue personnel. Dozens of paramedics and fire personnel were waiting to rush wounded to the local hospitals. I could see the strained anguish in the young man’s face. He turned back to us with a look of determination.
“I will take First Platoon into the Kromer building,” he stated with a tone that brooked no argument, “Lt. Alson, you will take Third Platoon into the Center building. Both platoons will advance slowly to assist any and all civilians to evacuate the buildings. Second Platoon and the ERT will assist with getting the civilians to the emergency personnel. We will withdraw to defensive positions and hold the moment we come into contact with any heavy opposition. Ranger, how powerful are you?”
“I can be very powerful Captain,” I answered without any modesty or reserve. I didn’t like his plan, but I would be damned if I didn’t help him succeed. “What do you need me to do sir?”
“For the moment, assist with the evacuation, but I want you ready to act as cavalry,” Colbert answered, “If the fighting becomes too heavy, I expect you to assist in helping my people withdraw, either to defensive positions or completely out of the buildings.” It may have sounded good, but Colbert didn’t have a clue how best to use my powers. He didn’t wait for to hear any objections and began issuing orders to his platoons.
“Lt. Horngren, we better get this rolling,” I said, looking on as the captain formed up his platoons. I had a nasty feeling I wouldn’t be seeing the captain again.
The platoons began their assaults at eight forty-five in the morning with simultaneous charges of armed Imperial Security soldiers. The Haligan tower was being evacuated as the New Town Fire-Rescue Department moved in their armored ambulances as members of the Special Emergency Units began moving into the lobbies of the Kromer and Center buildings. Horngren and I looked at each other in stunned amazement. Both of us were pretty sure that Colbert had asked Fire-Rescue to hold off its people until Imperial Security had secured large sections of the building and could begin an orderly evacuation. Horngren charged to the fire captain on scene. Lt. Golf, commander of Second Platoon, watched in amazement as Horngren began yelling at the fire captain to pull his people out until Imperial Security cleared the building. The fire captain began yelling back at the lieutenant, and although the volume was rather impressive, they were still too far for me to make out any of the words. The emotions from both men were spiking hard with anger and righteous indignation. Both of them were still arguing when the fighting began.
There was almost simultaneous reports of contact with orcs from both First and Third platoons. First platoon reported numerous orcs on the eighth floor while Third platoon hit a force of orcs and goblins around the seventh floor. Lt. Horngren and the fire captain were still yelling at each other and Lt. Golf looked at a loss of what to do. The radioman, better known as an RTO (radio-telephone operator), of Second platoon looked at me with a pleading look. I straightened my shoulders and looked at the soldiers and police officers. It was time to go to work.
“Second Platoon, form up for entrance on the Kromer!” I bellowed, “ERT, form up for entrance on the Center. Sergeants, have your men mount bayonets! Handlers, have your animals ready for combat!” The soldiers reacted with surprising alacrity. They may have never thought they would actually be called upon to use their skills, but they were ready to do so. The police officers raggedly followed suit. ERT was used to dealing with dangerous humans. The most inhuman thing they fought was the occasional aborigine that got out of hand or goblin that had attacked a human. Fighting orcs was beyond their normal operations. I would have to lead them if the lieutenant didn’t get finished with his disagreement with the fire captain. I didn’t have to worry. Apparently, my bellowed commands were enough to end the argument.
“Thank you Ranger,” Lt. Horngren said as he walked up to me. He looked at the two platoons, “Lt. Golf, please have your men begin their assault on Kromer. My men, we will assault Center. We are going to relieve the others and help extricate the wounded. Ranger, would you please await the rest of the forces?” I hated when members of the aristocracy reverted to their overly-polite speech. It was patronizing and usually completely out of place, such as now. I also didn’t want them to go into those buildings without me. I had fought more orcs and goblins than any of the soldiers or police sweating in front of the towers.
“You are going to need me,” I told Lt. Horngren, “I can fight better than any of your people.” Horngren just shook his head. I thought Horngren was going to be a better officer, but he was reverting to that aristocratic foolish officer that I had evaded for most of my professional life. He would go charging into those buildings, his men would follow, and all of them would die because they wouldn’t know what they were going up against. Horngren turned away from me and began leading his men into the Center Building. Lt. Golf gave me a helpless, humorless smile as he walked over to his platoon and led them into the Kromer building. I began cursing under my breath as I watched the soldiers and police officers storm into the towers. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t see any of them again unless I got into those buildings and saved them myself. Arrogant, maybe, but I knew what I was capable of handling.
“Ranger?” a gruff voice asked me from behind, “Are you handling us?” The man standing before me was about my height with dark brown hair and even darker eyes, and maybe twenty years my senior. He was dressed in a well-tailored blue suit that had been slightly torn and tattered from the evacuation of the towers.
“Evacuees are being handled by NTFD,” I said, shaking my head.
“I don’t think you understand, Ranger,” the man said, straightening up and firing off a quick salute, “Sergeant First-Class Jeffries, inactive reserve.” I gave him a closer inspection. He was older, but he was in shape. His emotions showed that he was calm and confident. He reminded me of Chief Ward, the senior warranted Ranger in Tam Bay. I guessed Jefferies had probably been a top kick before he left the service. He would definitely be an asset in getting whatever reservists showed up to help.
“Okay Sarge, what weapons do you have?” I asked, returning the salute.
“Just a sidearm sir,” Jeffries answered, “There’s a reservist armory a few blocks away. I know the guys on duty over there. Their commanding officer was a butterbar with me.” I grinned at the sergeant’s comment. For all the lofty, aristocratic notions that many of the officers in the armed forces affected, all of them had a fondness for the noncoms that helped guide them in their early years. Many forged relationships that endured far beyond their careers in the military.
“Good, as soon as we get some more here, I’ll send you to go get our weapons,” I told him, “Hopefully the earl will get the regulars in here before that.”
“Not likely, sir,” Jeffries replied, “The earl’s been in a pride fight with the Imperial Cabinet. He’s going to want his own forces to handle this without involving the regulars.” There were days I really hated the aristocratic parts of my government. I knew that the founders had a reason for setting up a nobility after the Crash, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. It was kind of like studying magic – I knew that it worked, but I couldn’t understand the underlying principles. “I know of some more inactives on my floor and a couple of others. Request permission to round them up?”
“Go to it, Sarge, break a few arms,” I answered. Jeffries gave me that peculiar noncom smile and left with that calm alacrity that they must teach in sergeants’ school. I listened on the radio as ERT and Second platoon made contact. The voices on the radio were confident as they made contact. Then came the panic as they realized exactly how many creatures had been ported in. Automatic weapons could scythe down orc after orc - at least as long as the magazine still held bullets. Then the full force of the Dark Towers hundred-to-one force disparity would come crashing down. Artillery, vehicle-mounted heavy weapons, grenades, specially-bred attack dogs, and the occasional psychic usually allowed Imperial forces to overcome the disparity. In the close confines of an office tower filled with civilians, the only thing that would keep the force disparity from hammering down on them would be the intensive small unit tactics training that the military rigorously enforced, including fire discipline. The Imperial Security soldiers might have had some training, but I was very certain that the ERT officers didn’t possess that kind of training. It wasn’t a slight to them, but at the end of the day, the ERT were police officers, not soldiers. It started to show as I listened to the RTOs report. The soldiers couldn’t keep up with waves of orcs and smaller goblins. How had the Dark Towers ported in so many of their forces? I was going to need more help than some reservists. I just hoped that I wouldn’t have to ask for help from the Praetorians. They had a superiority complex that made them almost impossible to work with. Powerful, yes, but I would rather work with soldiers that would listen to me rather than dismiss me because I wasn’t a part of their unit.
I knew that two more Imperial Security companies were on their way, as well as the Rangers in Queens. Their arrival times were anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours. The bridges onto Manattan were clogged with people fleeing. New Town hadn’t seen a raid in over fifty years, much less something of this size. The population didn’t know how to handle themselves and were in panic. Complacency was always a dangerous thing in a city’s population. The reservists were all I had, and from the trickle that Jeffries was dragging in, I would be lucky to form a platoon. As soon as I had a squad, I sent them under a reservist corporal to fetch weapons and armor.
“Warrant, may I speak with you?” asked a voice from behind. From the psi-scent, it was the fire-rescue captain that Horngren had been arguing with earlier. I turned to face the officer. He had obviously come up in the ranks from the scars that covered his forearms and neck. “What are you doing?”
“What’s your problem captain?” I asked. I could tell from the emotions raging in the man that there was something substantial that was bothering him.
“I’ve got my best people in those buildings while there’s a raging firefight happening,” he told me like he would one of his subordinates, “I don’t like that one bit. I want protection for my people.” I could see his point. Even his special teams wouldn’t stand a chance against orcs. A few reservists with automatic weapons would allow the fire-rescue personnel more time to save civilians.
“Weren’t you asked to keep your people out until we could provide that protection?” I asked as I watched Jeffries distribute rifles and body armor to the waiting reservists. Most of them were scared and hesitant, but they did it just the same.
“Okay, yeah,” the fire captain answered, “There’s too many civilians in there for my department to ignore. Civilians have a nasty tendency to get into the line of fire in a fight like that, and your people can’t deal with them and the baddies. You need my people in there to help.” He had a point, and he had the Special Emergency Units that proved he wasn’t being foolish about whom he sent in to deal with the crisis. I made a quick decision.
“I’ll have my soldiers move in as soon as we’re formed up,” I told him, “We’ll see about setting up a barrier between the fighting and your people.” The fire captain thanked me and left me to handle the details. He was obviously used to having subordinates that could think and work by themselves. My initial opinion of the fire captain had changed dramatically. “Sergeant Jeffries!”
“Yes sir,” answered the sergeant from where he was holding an assault rifle for another man who was stripping out of a business suit. As soon as the reservist had hastily donned the web gear at his feet, the sergeant handed him the weapon and walked over to where I was standing. “Sorry sir, its taking a bit longer to get the troops sorted than I had expected.”
“Sergeant, we’ve got about a platoon, right?”
“About that, sir,” Jeffries answered, “Maybe a bit more.” I filled the sergeant on what the fire captain had told me and my plans. The reservist sergeant mulled it over in his head as he watched two corporals he had found get the reservists in some semblance of order. “Can’t say I like it much, but I see what you and the fire captain are talking about. I think we can get about two reinforced squads each. I’ll make sure that you and I each have an RTO and at least one SAW gunner.”
“Are we really going to need machine guns in those buildings?” I asked. I had never fought a battle in a building like those, but I had done some urban warfare work. Machine guns could make small corridors and narrow streets into death traps, but with the short confines of the office buildings, I was worried that the SAWs wouldn’t be able to keep the enemies at distance.
“I’d rather have them and not need them,” the sergeant answered, “Especially if we might have to protect working medics from waves of orcs or goblins.” It made sense, so I just nodded. Jeffries would have the squads squared away in good time. It took less than ten minutes and we had about fifty outfitted reservists ready to assault the buildings. It wasn’t much, but it was going to be the best I could get. Time was running out to get this fight under some kind of control. I had two squads under a Corporal Reeves, who seemed as if he had gotten out of the military maybe six months previously. Private Jones was my RTO, although I had a nasty feeling that he was going to have a hard time keeping up with me once we made contact with the enemy forces. Jones looked like it had been ten years or so since he had last put on his uniform. I was just going to have to make do with what I had.
“Jeffries, get your squads into Kromer,” I ordered the sergeant, “You are to protect the paramedics and help any civilians as well as provide a secure line of retreat for Imperial Security. Do not go charging off to fight the bad guys. That’s what the Imperial Security troopers are for.” The sergeant nodded and promptly wheeled to get his reservists moving. “Corporal, get these squads moving.” As Jeffries and his troops moved into Kromer, I ordered my reservists to do a simple assault entrance. It was sloppy and there had been some nasty holes in their securing of the lobby, but it reinforced my faith in the reservist system. Twenty former soldiers who last put on a uniform anywhere between six months and twenty years ago and who had never trained with each other managed to perform a cohesive maneuver with less than twenty minutes preparation. The lobby had been turned into an impromptu triage for the wounded civilians by the paramedics. Those civilians who were okay or just lightly wounded were being directed to the waiting NTPD officers. The critically injured were being carried into the armored ambulances or carried on stretchers to ambulances outside of the building.
The lobby of the Center Building was a large open-air area that took up the first three floors of the building. Four grand marble staircases led up to the third floor. Small shops and boutiques lined the walls of the lobby. Corporal Reeves already had two-man fire teams on the staircases trying to secure them. It was a smart move – those stairwells were natural bottlenecks and a defensive boon. Any bad guys that tried to assault them would find it very messy and very expensive. The rest of the reservists were broken into two-man units and placed in covered positions that would allow them to provide fire support to the stairwells or cover the paramedics. I looked over to Reeves. “You worked in this building.”
“Yes sir,” he answered flatly, observing the reservists moving into position, “I worked for the Kolson group on the fifth floor. I mapped out defensive positions the first week that I had begun working here.” I clapped the corporal on the shoulder. It was a shame that the military had let go of such a bright junior non-com, but I was glad to have him.
“Okay Corporal, carry on,” I told him, “Make sure that your fire teams on the stairs are ready to help the civilians evacuate.” I had watched as a steady trickle of people came down the stairs and through the lobby to the waiting paramedics. Reeves nodded, and I decided to let the man work the section. He didn’t need my help, and I had other things to do. “Jones! Get over here!”
“Yes Ranger?” puffed Jones as he hustled over to where I was standing. The out of shape reservist was struggling to keep up, but he was determined.
“What’s Horngren’s and Alson’s positions?” I asked. Jones looked down at a small memo pad. He may have been out of the service for a long while, but at least he remembered the important parts, like writing down all the information that I would need.
“Lt. Alson is still on the seventh floor, but I think he’s surrounded and cut off, Ranger,” Jones answered, “Lt. Horngren is on fifth and in heavy contact with the enemy.” Heavy contact meant forces at least three times stronger than his own. Horngren was about to be overrun. I looked over the reservists as they continued to move into positions under the direction of Corporal Reeves.
“Okay, go tell Reeves that I’ve got to go help them upstairs and that he is to follow the same orders that I gave Sergeant Jeffries. You’re to stay with Corporal Reeves.” Jones saluted and walked over to where Reeves was barking orders to some of the soldiers. I knew that if Alson’s and Horngren’s people were to make it out alive, I would have to directly intervene. Checking the action on my carbine, I telekinetic lifted myself up to the third floor and entered into the main hallway. The sudden appearance of a psychic in military garb was enough for most people to open a hole for me to rush into the upper levels of the Center building. The few that didn’t were pushed out of the way. I wasn’t trying to be callous, but there were soldiers’ lives at stake. The third and fourth floors were clogged with civilians trying to get out of the building. I didn’t blame them because I could clearly hear the sharp barks of submachine gun fire from above. I was wrong about those police officers. The ERT were demonstrating some heavy fire discipline from the sound of the continuous short bursts. As I left the fourth floor and entered the fifth floor, the nature of the battle became evident. The police officers had made an impromptu fortification at the top of the main emergency stairwell and had branched out to seize nearby offices. Corpses of goblins and orcs were piled where they had fallen to the gunfire from the ERT. I found Horngren taking cover behind what had been an executive’s expensive desk. He had taken an arrow to the shoulder, but he was still directing his people in the fight. I landed next to him and his RTO.
“I told you that you would need help,” I commented to Horngren as I crouched up and fired my carbine at a hobgoblin with a bow. Unlike their immature cousins, hobgoblins were smart and frighteningly accurate with ranged weaponry, such as bows and crossbows. The creature’s midsection was torn apart by the rifle caliber round and the hobgoblin crumpled to the ground. “Have you been in contact with Third Platoon?”
“I beg your pardon Ranger,” Horngren replied with an appalled tone to his voice, “I believe I ordered you—“
“I don’t have time for this Lieutenant,” I said with a snarl, “In case you haven’t figured it out, this isn’t a simple raid. There’s more orcs and goblins here than we’ve seen in a single border raid since the end of Red Lake. We need to get whatever is left of Third Platoon down here and form a strong blocker until the cavalry arrives.” I knew what I was doing amounted to insubordination, but I didn’t have time to really wonder about the consequences. If the ERT and Third Platoon didn’t link up and form a better blocking position, both of them would be wiped out. A small flurry of arrows thunked into the overturned desk. Horngren didn’t look convinced, but his RTO certainly did.
“Limited contact with Third Platoon, Ranger,” the RTO answered crisply over the echoing sounds of weapons fire and the eerie howling of the goblins, “I think Lt. Alson is dead, and the rest of them are holed up in one of the office suites on the seventh floor.” I rose up just above the desk to find an orc trying to charge. A burst to its head threw the orc to the ground. Its battleaxe fell out of its hand and cut down a goblin as the weapon slammed to the ground. Sometimes you just got lucky.
“I’m going to try and get up to Third,” I told Horngren, “When I make contact, I’ll rally them and get them down here. Have your people be ready to cover us when we return.” Horngren looked disgusted, but he nodded. I slithered out from the cover of the desk and ran crouched to the stairwell fortification. The ERT officers had used whatever materials they could find to build some firing positions for the goblins that had tried coming down the stairwell. There was something wrong with this attack. I knew that the Dark Towers forces in the building numbered well into the thousands. They should have been able to overwhelm the police officers with waves of goblins and orcs. Instead they only sent a few hundred at the ERT. I needed to get upstairs, find Third Platoon, and maybe figure out what the creatures were up to.
The massive telekinetic blast cleared the small chattering goblins from the stairwell. Goblins weren’t very sturdy creatures to begin with. Being thrown against a concrete wall sent most of them into unconsciousness and killed a few more. The few that were still awake were quickly cut down by police fire. I didn’t wait. I threw up a shield and ran up the stairs. I bypassed the sixth floor without incident, although I was seriously tempted to start my own little firefight. From what I glimpsed, it was just as well that I didn’t. There wasn’t anything that I could do on my own to stop the wholesale slaughter of civilians, not against that many opponents – but it still bothered me. The landing onto the seventh floor was being guarded by a pair of veteran orcs. They held their weapons with the easy grace of a warrior that had seen the carnage many times before. I was actually glad about that. From what humans had learned over the years, the majority of the orc forces were made up of barely trained warriors with little to no experience in fighting humans. Veterans were uncommon, and therefore, gorgeous targets. Especially when they weren’t expecting the attack.
The first the two orcs knew that they were under attack was when a burst from my carbine exploded the head of the left hand orc. Its companion wasted no time in dropping down into a crouch and looking for me. It spotted me as I was readjusting my aim. A huge knife whistled through the air at me. The blade would have done a good job of skewering my guts if I hadn’t deflected it with my bracer. I ignored the flash of pain from the knife’s impact as the orc leapt at me, its battleaxe swinging as it closed the distance between us. I slammed it to the stairs with a short telekinetic blast. Of all the things the orc had been expecting me to do, that wasn’t one of them. It tried to shake the disorientation off, but I didn’t give it the time. I just placed a single round to the bridge of its nose. As the lifeless body of the orc settled on the stairs, I rushed past. I needed to get up before the landing was reinforced. As I entered the main hallway on the seventh floor, I could hear the mix of screeching howls, bellowing yells, and automatic weapons. Third Platoon might have been surrounded and unable to extract, but they were definitely making sure that the Dark Towers paid a heavy price. Unfortunately, the Dark Towers had plenty of orcs and goblins to spend. I felt a sudden wave of nausea and was nearly eviscerated by a small group of goblins. The things weren’t more than a hundred and twenty centimeters tall, but they were strong. A telekinetic blast sent them flying from me. I only saw the arrow as it bounced off the sudden wall of psychic energy. Briefly ignoring the goblins, I placed a burst at the hobgoblin down the hall. The creature dropped, as did the orc standing behind him. Normally the danger of overpenetration was why urban Imperial Security soldiers and police forces carried submachine guns. In this mess of a melee, it was a blessing. Another wave of sickness flowed through me. Something was happening. Something that involved magic.
I kept my shield around me as I followed the sounds of the weapons fire. It was slow going, mostly because I had to stop to deal with the enormous numbers of orcs and goblins clogging the narrow hallways. I was forced to sling my carbine. Most of the fighting was pistol and saber work. The sharp edge of the saber neatly opened orc vitals while the pistol easily knocked down the goblins. It may have sounded like a backward way to fight my enemies, but there was a method to my madness. My pistol wouldn’t take down an orc in one shot, but it had no problem with punching a lethally big hole in a goblin. The saber, on the hand, could hack a big enough chunk out of an orc to lay it out with minimal effort. All that said, it was slow and bloody work – and it was using up a lot of my psychic strength. By the time I actually reached the edges of where Third Platoon had holed up, I was hurt, tired, and bleeding. Nothing immediately lethal, but with just enough pain to keep me feeling very uncomfortable.
The hallway leading into the section that Third Platoon had fortified was clogged with the bodies of fallen orcs and goblins. Hobgoblins were maybe five meters from me, firing arrows at the soldiers as fast as they could pull their bowstrings. Dozens of orcs and goblins were scrambling over the corpses of their dead in an attempt to rush the soldiers’ position. I holstered the pistol and reached into one of the pouches on my web gear. I pulled out the baseball-sized orb and pressed the heavy trigger. With an easy motion, I tossed the orb towards the hobgoblins.
“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” I screamed as loudly as I could. Goblins and orcs turned at my sudden shout, and found themselves staring into the grenade’s explosion. The hallway shuddered and thundered with the deafening explosion. Hot metal fragments lanced through the air, rending the vulnerable fleshy creatures with contemptuous ease. Dust and pulverized gore filled the air and then began to settle. I could feel the human emotions at the end of the hall, but there were none of the vile psi-scents of the Dark Towers in front of me. At least, none living. I trotted through the hallway with my shield up. I didn’t want to get shot by those I came to help. Most of the soldiers were still huddled behind their fragment-laced fortifications. Using a fragmentation grenade in the close confines of a building was generally frowned on because it had the nasty tendency to cause just as many friendly casualties as enemy casualties. The soldiers in front of me were radiating relief and anger as I emerged from the smoke in the hallway. I leapt over their hasty fortifications and found myself in front of a very upset platoon sergeant.
“What was that?” he half screamed at me before he saw who I was and belated added, “Ranger.” I could see two soldiers with fragment wounds. I didn’t want to wound anyone, but I needed to clear that hallway. I was about to answer when a wave of sickness hit me strong enough to knock me off my feet. A deep thrumming began in my head, like someone was piping a kettle drum directly to the base of my skull. The platoon sergeant loomed over me with a concerned look on his face. “Ranger, are you wounded sir? I can get my medic over here.”
I motioned for him to give me a moment. The thrumming was familiar. I had felt it before, but it wasn’t in New Town. It was back in Tam Bay. My mind raced as it pushed through the haze of nausea and mental noise. The connection was made as the floor itself began rumbling. I had felt this before – right before the Dark Towers opened a portal. The thrumming that time had been like a deep sounding mosquito. This one was much, much worse. The floor shook and some tiles fell from the ceiling. “RADIO!”
The soldier holding the radio pack wasn’t Third Platoon’s RTO. He still managed the bulky device without a problem. I grabbed the heavy handset and told the soldier to open it up for a wide broadcast.
“Everyone in the Kromer and Center Buildings, evacuate immediately!” I yelled into the handset, “Get out! Get out! Save as many as you can before—“ There was a flash of light, and I felt a force pick me up and toss me through the office complex and out a window. The last thing I remember seeing was the giant white disk of energy that appeared between the Kromer and Center buildings just before the two monoliths shattered. Shattered like giant glass vases. Then the blackness took over.
I woke up to a bright light in my eye. The light was quickly removed, but the ghost of the light made it impossible for me to see what was going on. I felt many people around me, and they were all relieved and anxious at the same time. I could pick out the psi-scents of Stephen and my mother, as well as a few other familiar ones that I knew from the Keep. I was laying on something firm, but cushioned. It had to be a hospital bed, but I knew that I wasn’t in a hospital. The psi-scents around me were too different. I tried to speak, but my mouth didn’t want to work at first.
A doctor hovered over me, checking over my body. I hurt all over, but I knew I needed to sit up and move. The doctor tried to put a restraining hand on me, but a man in an Imperial Security uniform and colonel’s sigils on his epaulets stopped him. I could feel that the colonel was worried about me, but not in the same way that my mother and Stephen were worrying. He needed something from me.
“How long have I been out?” I managed to ask after a nice nurse gave me a swallow of bitter water.
“A little over two hours Ranger Stahl,” the colonel answered, “How are you feeling?” From his emotions, he wanted to know if I was still functional, or if I was going to be unable to continue. That meant that the battle was still going on. I took a mental inventory. Using delicate psychic touches, I probed my body. I was bruised, I had a small fracture in my left arm, and my powers were still recovering from the abuse they had taken. I could also feel that they had just become much stronger, but it was going to take a few long months to fully incorporate all their new strength. Just the way it worked.
“I can manage, sir,” I answered as I stood up. The doctor, the nurses, and Stephen all made to rush in to catch me. I knew that I could stand, and the look on my face must have told them as much because they stopped as quickly as they started. “What’s the situation, sir?” The colonel was skeptical, but he didn’t let any of it show on his face.
“Are you good to go, or are you just being a Ranger?” he asked with a tone that brooked no argument. He knew of our institutional tenacity and the tendency to ignore even serious wounds if it meant continuing on in our duty. Rangers Do Not Give Up.
“I am good to fight, colonel,” I answered, “Where do you need me?” He nodded to me and pulled out a map. The others in the room were shocked that the two of us just ignored their presence, but the colonel and I had better things to worry about.
“The Kromer and Center towers were destroyed when the Dark Towers used them to open a portal like no one had ever seen before,” the colonel told me, “Even the elves hadn’t seen the like before, but they have managed to shut it down – at the cost of over a hundred of their lives. The Kaligan tower was actually toppled into the harbor. Most of the other buildings were demolished by the portal opening. As it stands, we have nearly ten thousand orcs and nearly twice that number in goblins and hobgoblins semi-contained to the remains of the Trade Park. I finally have the remaining Imperial Security troops here, as well as every police officer that NTPD could spare and every reservist on the island of Manattan.”
“The Rangers?” I asked. The local Rangers would be probably where I would go.
“I have them spread out,” the colonel answered, “The reservists are enlisted heavy, and I don’t have enough officers to lead the reservist units. It’s got to the point I have cadets from the local military academies leading some of the platoons.” I must have had a shocked look on my face, because the colonel quickly assuaged my concerns. “Don’t worry Ranger, I have tried to make sure that the children have decent sergeants to keep them in check, but I’m running short of bodies. The lines have more or less stabilized, but we are taking heavy casualties. If we keep up this attrition, the orcs will break out in less than two hours’ time.”
“With all due respect, sir, but where the devil is the Army and Marines?” I almost yelled. The colonel was annoyed at my slight insubordination, but he didn’t seem to begrudge my sentiment. He didn’t answer me, but just looked over at Stephen. There was a streak of shame running through Stephen, and I didn’t like what that bode.
“The earl still refuses to allow the regular armed forces to engage,” Stephen answered, “The lords of Brooklyn, Bronx, and Queens have all more or less demanded him to release the regular forces. It has taken everything we’ve had just to get the earl to order all Imperial Security and spare police forces down here. I had to call up the reserves, and we’re fighting to get the rest of the city’s reservists here.” I thought about the problem for a brief moment. The colonel wasn’t wrong in his analysis. Imperial Security didn’t have any artillery, and very few of the vehicle-mounted heavy weapons that were needed to fight the grinding battle that was raging at the Trade Park. The police had even less in the way of heavy weapons. They were probably fighting with patrol carbines and sidearms. We needed the Army, Navy, and Marines’ full fighting force. Until the earl grew some political courage or the Emperor got off his butt and intervened, the main thing that we needed was additional troops. The colonel saw that I was working through something in my mind, and he gave me the space to finish my thoughts. I knew what needed to be done, but no one was going to like it.
“Stephen, you’re going to have to come with me,” I told him, much the same way I spoke to wayward free town residents. It was the infamous Ranger Voice – a mix of threat, command, and inspiration. It took years to perfect it, but when used properly, it could quell a riot. “Colonel, I think that I can get you some more forces, but you may not like it.”
“THIS IS RIDICULOUS!” my mother screeched over our conversation, “Dear God Eric, you just fell seven stories and somehow managed to survive the destruction of three skyscrapers where everyone else died. Now, you’re just to scamper off on some other adventure with my husband?” I could feel how close to emotionally breaking my mother was. I knew she was an inconsequential psychic, which was why it was always hard for me to read her until her emotions flared. Right now, she was an emotional pyrotechnic display. I did something that I never thought I would ever do. I slapped her.
“Get something through your head,” I said to her shocked face, “I am an Imperial Ranger. WE DO NOT GIVE UP! I will not allow any of those people out there die if I can do anything about it. I can, but I need Stephen’s help. Even if this idea doesn’t work, then I will be out there fighting. That is my duty.” She looked at me and then broke into tears.
“My God, you are so much your father’s son,” she sobbed, “I don’t think a Stahl could turn his back on his duty if Jesus Christ, himself, asked you to.” An old wound that I thought had scarred over opened back up. My mother rarely spoke of my father, but there was always such a unique tone to her voice when she did. She looked at me with a harsh look to her face. “Why do you need my husband?”
“Negotiation.”
Major Higgins had to be physically restrained when he found out that he and his people would not be accompanying Stephen and me. I didn’t blame him one bit, but the art of supplication had its rules. The supplicant didn’t bring his army into the lair of the supplicator. I was the facilitator – my presence would be necessary. Plus, I had negotiated with these folks before, sort of. My armor had been badly mangled, but the colonel managed to find some replacements. My saber had been recovered when I had been rescued, and it was a comforting weight on my left hip. The slung carbine and holstered pistol were borrowed from the Keep’s armory. Higgins had given them to me himself. Stephen was similarly equipped and armored, but I doubted he would know what to do with the sword at his side. I had seen him fence before, but there was a huge difference between fencing and sword-fighting. You’re not trying to kill someone when you’re fencing.
We left the command post and walked across Central Boulevard, the huge road that ran north to south like a spine for Manattan. I had sensed them while I was still in the command post. It was surprising that they were watching the events unfold. It was my task to get them involved. Which was going to be difficult enough.
“Just who are we negotiating with?” Stephen asked as we crossed the empty road, “The elves and the mafia are already helping us.” Somehow the idea of gangsters helping out the police and Imperial Security forces that normally persecuted the thugs was amusing, but I wasn’t surprised. The mafia had often showed up with their shooters when the city’s goblins got rambunctious. From what I had learned, there was some sort of “gentlemen’s agreement” that mafia shooters would be able to assist in the fight against the Dark Towers, and the police wouldn’t arrest any of the shooters at the scene. Afterwards, all bets were off. The problem was that the mafia shooters would not have the training to effectively fight the massive amounts of orcs and goblins at the Trade Park. I knew who would.
“We need to talk with the Stone Walkers,” I answered, and awaited the inevitable eruption.
“You’re having me talk to the RATS?!” he almost yelled, “They’re nothing more than a nuisance and petty criminals. They cause almost as much problems as the few goblin clans that infest the city.”
“Stephen, do us all a favor and shut up for a moment,” I said harshly as I whirled on him, “You arrogant aristocrat! You never once tried to talk with the aborigines in your city. Do you have any idea why a nomadic group such as the aborigines would willingly live in this stinking metropolis? They can’t hunt, and the humans here refuse to seriously trade with them. Yet they’re still here. Why?” Stephen blazed with anger at my effrontery.
“Okay, so enlighten me in your superior knowledge that you got out of some wise woman,” Stephen answered derisively. My biggest contentions with Stephen was his firm belief that those who lived in the “civilized” sectors of the Empire were far superior to the simple people who lived north of the Pearl River, and his refusal to learn any of the “common” things that people who did live north of the Pearl River learned when they were children. Part of that was the true nature of the aborigines.
The aborigines were a nonhuman nomadic race of hunter-gatherers that were sometimes allies and sometimes enemies. They stood an average of a meter and half tall, but were easily a hundred kilos of furry muscle. They had the flat face of a cat, the muscular build of a dog, and the long whip tail of a rat. They were social animals like dogs, stealthy hunters like cats, and incredible foragers like rats. They could also be the most infuriating creatures on the entire continent. Normally, the aborigines stayed out of the cities, keeping their tribes on the vast plains between human settlements. The exception to this was the Stone Walkers. They weren’t a tribe, they were a religious movement. Sometime before I was born, a prophet began preaching a more active in helping the humans remove the Dark Towers from the continent. The Prophet believed that it was the aborigines’ duty to help destroy any Dark Towers forces. Since the tribal elders refused to band together, and the humans refused to properly teach and arm the aborigines (the aborigines did have a tendency to raid human settlements if they were in the mood), the Stone Walkers came into the cities to rid them of the invariable goblin infestations. It was an odd philosophy, and I didn’t understand all of the ins-and-outs of the Stone Walkers. These days, only the outcasts and true believers left their tribes to join the Stone Walkers. The rest of the aborigine tribes shunned what they considered outlandish “cultists.” I explained all of this to Stephen, who seemed to grudgingly accept that the aborigines weren’t quite the scourge he had made them out to be.
The Stone Walker spy was caught off guard. Aborigines tended to get overconfident in their stalking abilities. They really are good, but Rangers learned a lot over their institutional life that even seasoned aborigine warriors knew better than to ambush us. The spy had been living in the city for too long. He never suspected that I was aware of his presence until I psychically reached out and snatched him. It took a moment before the aborigine was coherent enough to listen to me. “Go find your Reverend. Tell him that Lord Manattan wants to negotiate an alliance.”
“An alliance?” Stephen asked, his eyes agog at my command to the now quickly disappearing aborigine, “Just what are you getting me into?”
“I’m helping you do your duty,” I retorted shortly, “Aborigines have been fighting orcs and goblins since before humans crashed down on this world. They are vicious and ruthless warriors. They are just what we need to help not only stabilize the line, but maybe push it back. They won’t, though, do it out of the goodness of their heart, or they would have been fighting already. You are going to have to ask for their help, and maybe make some concessions in order to have them fight.” Stephen didn’t say anything after that. He just stood there and looked down the alley in a sightless stare. His emotions were swirling with confusion and anxiety. I leaned against one of the walls and waited. The aborigines would show up, but how fast would depend on the Reverend. I hadn’t met any of the Stone Walkers before, so I didn’t know when—
“You are a Ranger?” asked a voice from above, “Rangers are good. This may be good.” The Reverend was naked with the exception of a pair of dirty, tattered cotton shorts that served as a loin cloth and a dirty preacher’s collar. He was being escorted by three other aborigines who were dressed in tattered clothing. All of them crawled down from the outside of one of the buildings. They looked unarmed, but knowing aborigines, I heavily doubted that.
“Yes, I am a Ranger,” I answered, “I’ve worked with the Stone Bone and Swift Wind tribes as well as the Jagged Knife tribe. I’m here to help Lord Manattan.” I motioned to Stephen who stepped forward. “He needs your help.”
“Yes, many bad things,” the Reverend answered. Then he made the high-pitched clicking sound that I recognized as the aborigine name for the orcs. “Stone Walkers been taking care of the small ones. Many, many small ones.” The Reverend gave me a twisted grin that I had seen on other aborigines. The goblins in the city were trying to link up with the Dark Towers forces in the Trade Park. The Stone Walkers had spent the morning killing them. I returned a knowing smile.
“We need you to help us kill the big ones,” I said, “Lots and lots of big ones at the big fight.” The echoing sounds of weapons fire and howling screams added proof to my statement. “I really don’t have time to go through the normal trade talkings. What will it take for the Stone Walkers to join the battle?” The Reverend gave me another of his twisted smiles and pointed at Stephen.
“You must make nice with Stone Walkers,” the Reverend stated, “We do lots of good works here, but humans still thinks we are bad. This is not good. If you want us to fight big ones, we need guns and swords. Not sending Stone Walkers to die simply because you ask.” Stephen’s emotions erupted in indignation, so I turned to him and gave him an evil look. I knew the idea of handing weapons over to the Stone Walkers horrified him – after all, he still thought the aborigines as little more than savage rodents that were only slightly more preferable to having the goblins that infested his city. Stephen understood that wasn’t true in an intellectual sense, but his emotional responses hadn’t changed. Still, being a politician, he was able to keep his face neutral at the suggestion.
“We can give you guns and swords for the fight, but we can’t let you keep them afterwards,” I told the Reverend, “Lord Manattan can order his police and ask his residents to no longer harm you and yours, but humans will not want Stone Walkers with guns and swords.”
“I will let you keep the swords,” Stephen interjected, his voice full of his aristocratic command tone, “But I warn you, if you use those weapons against humans in any illegal act, I will confiscate all of them and I will hang the ones that attacked my subjects.” He looked the Reverend dead in the eye, which he couldn’t know was normally considered a leadership challenge amongst the aborigines. “The Stone Walkers have provided my subjects with some protection against the goblins. For that, I will give you better tools. But, the Stone Walkers have attacked and stolen from my subjects. This will stop immediately. We will work out some payment for your services so that the Stone Walkers may trade.”
“Then we will fight,” the Reverend said with a solemnity that I had heard before. Stephen didn’t know it, but he had just become the leader of the Stone Walkers in New Town. I was going to have some fun explaining what just happened to him. That would be much later.
I wondered how it looked in the command center when the aborigines joined the battle. It had taken nearly an hour to gather the some three hundred Stone Walkers on Manattan Island and hand out weapons and ammunition to the warriors. During that time, the human line had begun crumbling on the west side. The reservists on the west corner were all inactive reservists and had begun running low on ammunition. Leading the reservists were cadets from the New Town Military Institute, and the unblooded cadets ordered a slowing of fire to conserve ammunition. It sounded good in theory, but any veteran knows that slackening in the fire would allow the Dark Forces to charge through and carry the battle to close quarters. This is considered something akin to suicide. Humans have no business going close quarters with orcs or even goblins unless there is no other option. The inactive reservists and their green officers were unprepared for the rush of orcs and were fighting a desperate fight in close quarters. The orcs were threatening to breach the line and flank the humans.
Then came three hundred screeching Stone Walkers into the fray. Humans may have no business fighting in close quarters with orcs, but aborigines excelled at it. Throw in human swords and guns and the Stone Walkers became an unleashed storm of destruction against the Dark Towers. Moreover, goblins had a unique fear of the aborigines. The goblins fighting with the orcs broke and fled as soon as they heard the unique screeching howl of the aborigine battle cry. Thus, a desperate fight just to hold the line rapidly became a rout of the Dark Towers. The Stone Walkers pushed the orcs and goblins back in a relentless torrent of gunfire and sword strokes. Behind the Stone Walkers, myself and two other Rangers managed to reform the shattered human forces. As Rangers, we knew that the Stone Walkers had bought us some time, but the aborigines would quickly push too far and hit a mass of Dark Towers that they couldn’t break. Great fighters, the aborigines were, but not so good on larger scale tactics. We needed to be ready to cover the retreat of the Stone Walkers and the rushing wave of orcs that would be chasing them.
The reservists and the cadets were terrified at the prospect of having to do battle with the orcs again. I could feel the fear amongst the soldiers, and I knew that the line would break if the orcs managed to close again to close quarters. Our only hope was that the aborigines would stand with the humans and not continue their retreat. Knowing how aborigines fought, it was a slim hope at best. They were terrifying warriors, but not very good soldiers. I could feel the anxiety of the other Rangers, but they stood solidly, shouting orders over the din of the battle. In front of us, we could see the Stone Walkers falling back, alternating between running towards our line and running back to fight with the pursuing orcs. The fear amongst the reservists began rising as the battle came closer to the line. We began bracing as the Stone Walkers crossed the fifty meter line. Then came a beautiful whistling sound.
Artillery began crashing down in front of us. As the reservist soldiers looked dumbfounded at the whistling crashes of the shells, the two Rangers and I rushed forward to guide the Stone Walkers out of danger. Human soldiers, even reservists, knew what to do when artillery began falling, but the Stone Walkers had no idea how to evade the fire pattern. I threw up the strongest telekinetic shield I could manage as the Rangers led the Stone Walkers out of the rain of shrapnel and fragments. When we crossed the defensive line, the reservists were gone. In their place were the deadly formations of Army motor rifle platoons.
The heavy machine guns and grenade launchers mounted on the Prowler APC’s began hammering away at the orcs chasing the Stone Walkers and us. The mass of running orcs quickly dissolved into something out of a charnel house as the large caliber rounds and lethal fragments easily punched through the orcs’ armor and shredded the vital flesh underneath. I heard as the same thundering sound was repeated down the line with the deeper rhythm of Rhino tanks with their autocannons. Army helicopters roared in and added to the symphony with the chattering of their chain guns and swooshing of their rockets. The howls of the Dark Towers were drowned out by the cacophony of weapons fire that only the Army and Marines could place on the battlefield. Just to prove the Empire’s new dominance on the torn urban battlefield, joining the helicopters in the air where members of the Imperial Guard of the Praetorians – led by Major Justice, himself. The man was an arrogant prick, but never once would I doubt his courage or battle skill. By himself, he was a force of destruction. With the five other Guardsmen accompanying him, they cut a wide swath of psychic devastation that the Marines charged through like a hostile beachhead. The orcs and goblins hastily tried retreating from the onslaught, only to find themselves trapped between the Army and Marines on land while the Navy’s gunboats, led by the frigate, HMS Gauntlet, tore them apart from the sea.
The Dark Towers forces tried to make a last ditch effort by digging into the jagged remains of the Trade Park Towers. Perhaps they expected the regular Imperial forces to try and dig them out like Imperial Security had when the day began. The Army and Navy quickly disabused them of that notion as artillery and naval guns began relentlessly pounding the ruins. Army helicopters and small attack planes added their fire as the soldiers picked off any bad guys that emerged.
An Army colonel with the name of Fitzgerald approached me as I watched the barrage. When the regular forces had taken over the battle, I had retired to the command center. I was tired and sore, but I needed to watch the battle end. I had been there at the beginning. I needed to be there at the end. The colonel was a big, beefy soldier dressed in urban camouflage fatigues. His face was a professional neutral, but I could sense the determination behind the soldier’s façade.
“Ranger, are you in command of those aborigines?” he asked without preamble.
“In a manner of speaking, Colonel,” I answered, “I guess the better term would be liaison.”
“Good,” the colonel answered, “I assume those rats are as good as the ones out on the plains?” From his tone and emotions, I could tell that the colonel’s use of rats had no maliciousness behind it. He was a veteran of plains fighting, and he had probably fought beside aborigines before. Amongst veterans, the term rats became more of a compliment.
“They managed to save the line,” I stated firmly, “They will fight. What do you want me to ask them to do?” There was a sudden hesitancy in the colonel. He knew what he needed to do, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to do. I had a nasty suspicion what the colonel needed the Stone Walkers to do for the Army.
“The artillery barrage will lift soon, and the troops to root out the last of the Dark Towers. I want the Stone Walkers to bird-dog for us.” It was going to be dangerous and nasty work. It was also something that the Stone Walkers would be perfect for. Yet, I couldn’t just order them to go on what would be a bloody mess. It wouldn’t be right.
“I’ll ask them.”
The Trade Park Battle was finished. I was sidelined for the last push after securing the Stone Walkers’ cooperation. The Imperial Guard’s medic was responsible for my being pulled out of the battle. She was worried about my injuries, but was more concerned with the strain I placed on my psychic powers. Pushing one’s limits was how a psychic built strength, but I pushed mine beyond any safe limits. Until I could control my new psychic strength, any use would be unpredictable, and possibly dangerous to those around me. I decided not to be professionally offended, but there was still an internal seething at not being able to accompany the rest of the Rangers as they helped assault the ruins. The artillery had killed a massive number of the enemy, but the ones that survived were dug in hard. The Stone Walkers ably helped the Army and Marines dig the orcs and goblins out of their strongpoints, suffering many casualties in the process. Elves magically scanned the ruins to make sure that all of the Dark Towers’ forces were killed. As soon as the battle itself was finished, New Town Fire Rescue began their invasion to save whomever they could and to make sure that the fires dotting the Trade Park didn’t spread to the rest of the island.
Stephen walked over to where I was watching the firefighters and paramedics work with the assistance of soldiers to save lives and contain fires. He was emotionally drained, and I could feel the contradictory swirl of happiness and grief swirl around him. I had to admit that the two emotions were playing heavily on me. He stood next to me, saying nothing for a minute. I wondered why he had come over to me. We weren’t exactly on the best of terms most of the time and there were plenty of people who needed the leadership of the Lord Manattan.
“One of the longest days in my life,” Stephen finally said, the fatigue rolling through his tone, “What about you?”
“It certainly ranked up there, milord,” I said, a bit formally. I was still uncertain of Stephen’s motives, so I was wary of him and what he wanted from me.
“Ever the Ranger,” Stephen chuckled to himself, “You know that you were the only survivor of the initial confrontation. At least on the military side.” I nodded in response. Captain Colbert and his company, Lt. Horngren and his platoon, my ad hoc platoon of reservists, and the better part of the NTFD’s rescue personnel were killed in the collapse of the towers, along with nearly five thousand civilians. The day’s total death toll hadn’t been calculated, and probably wouldn’t be known for several days. I did some quiet checking during the final push, and would soon have the unpleasant task of informing my uncle that none of his employees, save two that had been out sick, survived the attack. For all of the reputation of ruthlessness that my family’s firm had acquired over the years, there was a sense of family amongst the employees. The loss of a hundred or so of their coworkers would not be easy for the firm’s employees to bear. Still, I knew that my family would do everything in its power to help its employees handle their grief. Stephen saw that my mind was going through my own roll call of dead and gave me a moment to collect my thoughts.
“Everyone has asked if you would write your after-action report as soon as possible,” Stephen continued when he was sure that I was listening again, “Especially the Army and the new earl.” The reason that the regular Imperials had finally joined the battle was that the Emperor finally had enough of the Earl of New Town and his antics. The Emperor ordered the Praetorians to arrest the earl and raise his son to the office. The new Earl of New Town wasn’t about to make the same mistakes of his father. Within fifteen minutes of his father’s arrest, the new earl had secured the assistance of the Imperial Army, Navy, and Marines. The elder earl’s resignation had come down after the end of the battle, about the same time as the House of Lords quietly let it be known that the elder earl would not survive the impeachment hearing.
“What do they want from me?” I asked, “I’m just a Ranger with some psychic powers.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the only one of the first responders that survived,” Stephen answered, “We need to know what mistakes were made in the beginning so we can remedy them. Plus, we want to know whom to award the posthumous medals that will be coming out of this. I’m sure you will receive some recognition for your part in this.” Stephen didn’t look smug, but there was a whiff of it in his emotions. It was part of his nature that grated on me. As the Lord Manattan, his recommendations would be taken very seriously by the Imperial Honors and Promotions Board, and he felt a small sense of satisfaction at the possible patronage he would be giving me.
“That’s up to Captain Helle to decide,” I said with a hint of ice, “The Rangers always review their own actions before forwarding it to the Board, and since she runs the Queens Station, it will be up to her to look at my actions and determine what is proper. I would prefer if you not interfere with it. Rangers have a peculiar way of looking at honors, and it would not be in my professional interest to have a lord giving me brass tacks.” The truth was, I could expect a gold chit, or exemplary service in combat award, for my actions in the Trade Park Battle. I was sure that if Stephen involved himself, it would become a Gold Star for service above and beyond the call of duty. Rangers, like other elite branches, maintained a harsher view of awards. What I did was expected of a Ranger. We always fought to protect the Empire, be it from human or inhuman forces. We did not quit, and we did not fail. Our reputation gave us an edge in the field against our enemies, but it also put a more strenuous filter on our actions. Rangers were expected to operate beyond what some would call the call of duty. We demanded it of ourselves because none of us would dare fail to live up to our professional mythos. Stephen didn’t understand any of that, but he could detect the undercurrent in my voice. Part of being a polished politician, as well as a skilled Ranger, was being able to correctly interpret the myriad of tiny verbal and nonverbal cues that a person gives off in a normal conversation.
“I understand,” he said quietly.
“No, you don’t,” I replied with a neutral tone, “Not fully at least, and I don’t think I could explain it to you well enough for you to understand. I do believe that you understand that you really shouldn’t involve yourself in the affairs of the Rangers, and for that I am very grateful.” There was a spike of anger in Stephen, but it faded quickly away.
“You still don’t like me very much?” Stephen asked. I looked at him and made a quick assessment. Stephen had acted very poorly when I first met him, partly because I wasn’t a part of his class of society, and partly because I had no intention of trying to be a part of his world. Since his marriage to my mother, I had watched his political actions as well as how he treated my mom. I didn’t agree with his politics, but I never saw him use any of the normal political dirty tricks or bombastic rhetoric that I saw out of most of the Liberal Party.
“I respect you Stephen,” I answered, “I think you’re still an overbearing, arrogant aristocrat, but I trust you to act honorably. Beyond that, I can’t give you.” Stephen seemed to accept that, but I could tell he didn’t like it very much. “Stephen, I will give you the names of a few people I think you should endorse for awards. I’m not asking you on my behalf, but because they were your subjects, and their families deserve your thanks.” I hoped what I said came out without sounding pompous or demanding. It must have, because no trace of anger or resentment passed through Stephen’s emotions. He just nodded wordlessly. An aide called out to him, and Stephen left with just a clap on my shoulder.
I watched as the rescue work continued through the night. I felt that I had a duty to watch because I couldn’t help them. My powers were sorting themselves out, which meant my telekinesis would be unreliable for the next few days. As I watched, I thought hard on what the day actually meant, both for the Empire and for myself. This wasn’t the normally sloppy kind of rear area raid that the Dark Towers used. This had been a calculated strike at an important target. The Imperial economy would take a nasty hit from the loss of the Trade Park, and subjects who had long taken their safety for granted would no longer feel safe. Imperial Security would be bolstered by regular forces until they increased their size to meet the new demand, which meant that there would be fewer soldiers defending the borders or roving the vast interior of the Empire. What it meant for the Empire was simple. There was a new leadership amongst the Dark Towers, and this one was demonstrating a scary understanding of our society.
As for myself, I had seen more death and destruction in a single day than I had seen in my entire life. I knew that there was a new threat to my Empire, and I knew that I was among the vanguard that would protect my Empire from this new threat. I became a Ranger because of the death of my father. I stayed a Ranger because I enjoyed the work and enjoyed being part of such an elite unit. As I looked beyond the day of the Trade Park Battle, I knew that my reasons for staying in the Rangers had changed. I felt the pull of duty stronger than ever before. My family would continue to subtly nag me, but I knew as I watched as rescue workers hunt frantically for survivors that the only way I would leave the Rangers would be to buried in full uniform. Then the sun dawned upon the new day.