Derek Ward

“What the devil are you doing in my crime scene?” hollered a voice from behind me. I didn’t need my abilities to know the woman was very upset. I didn’t blame her. I would be angry in her place. The problem was that I was busy examining the body, and I didn’t need the distraction. From what my stepfather told me, if I didn’t get this problem solved, the aborigines living in New Town would either be exiled – or worse, hunted down and killed. As much as my stepfather hated to admit it, he liked having the Stone Walkers in the city. They had proven themselves far beyond any normal trouble they caused. This case was a different matter. This was murder. (more…)

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. (more…)

“Warrant Officer Eric Stahl, reporting as ordered, sir,” I said as solemnly as I could muster. I was in the formal uniform of the Imperial Security Ranger Division, but I had not yet earned the coveted silver-star-within-a-circle that would make me a full member of that elite unit. For that prized bit of metal, I was required to make the “Long Ride.” If I didn’t make it, I would have to join one of the regular Imperial Security units stationed in Tam Bay, which was something that I really didn’t want to do. The Ranger captain gave me an appraising look as I stood ramrod straight. Captain Rodgers was an old Tam Bay hand, having ridden in the sector for nearly three decades. He had proved himself against almost any threat a Ranger was expected to handle, and done so with a solid record. He certainly looked the part. Captain Rodgers was easily two meters in height with a build that was solid, but not bulky. His black hair was worn long, and tied back. His dark eyes were notorious for being able to reduce even the toughest Rangers to stammering fools, or melt even the coldest lady’s heart. As I said, the captain was notorious. Right now, I was on the brink of becoming a stammering fool. (more…)

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

By

Derek Ward

A Ranger’s patrol was usually boring. Most of the time, it was just riding the vast stretches of land between the cities and towns, on the watch for bandits or Dark Towers’ forces that may have infiltrated into Imperial territory. It was demanding work, and the path to becoming a Ranger was one of the toughest in the Imperial Armed Forces. Only the Imperial Commandoes and Imperial Marine Reconnaissance were more rigorous. Maintaining constant vigilance with little or no human contact for days at a time – and sometimes harsh environmental conditions - was one of those things that could make or break a Ranger candidate. Most couldn’t make it past the Long Ride – the probationary solo patrol before officially becoming a Ranger. Those that did muddle through had even rougher patrols to tackle. After all, we endured the stress of our job because we knew that we were protecting the citizens of the Empire that couldn’t do it. Fortunately, the brass in Imperial Security, the internal paramilitary force to whom the Rangers belonged, were nice enough to allow the Rangers to customize their patrolling gear to allow for maximum comfort. It was one less irritant to distract a Ranger from his duty. For me, that meant instead of the combat fatigues that most soldiers were forced to wear, I wore denim cargo pants, knee-high brown leather riding boots, a tan colored light cotton shirt, leather gloves, and the traditional black Stetson hat. My pistol was holstered on my right hip, while my saber was sheathed at my left hip, and my retractable spear was in its holder on my back. I wore a dark green riding vest – sort of a combination web gear, informal uniform, and riding protection. Sewn inside the padding were high-strength plastic plates to blunt trauma wounds from any of the various mishaps that could happen on a patrol, from falling off the horse to small arms fire. Pockets for various tools, food, and ammunition were dispersed all over the vest. Embroidered in black over my left breast was STAHL – my family name. On the right breast was the sigil of the Rangers, a five-pointed silver star within a silver circle. Above the sigil were the three circles of a warrant officer, first-class. The vest looked onerous to wear in the warm and humid grasslands of the Tam Bay sector, but it had been designed by former Rangers. It was good stuff, as we said, one of our highest praises for a piece of equipment. (more…)