Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (11/?) (Patreon)

A flood of emotions overwhelmed me as I began going through the rest of the containers. Every single one of them was accounted for: the spare parts, the ammunition, the pre-purified foodstuffs, the special armor add-ons and mods, and the drones. What remained distinctly unaccounted for out of everything was perhaps one of the devices I most desperately needed.

The Exoreality Communications Suite, or ECS for short.

But that was only half the story.

The fact of the matter was, I was now in a race against time for its retrieval. The IAS was anything if not over prepared. Every contingency was accounted for and every point of failure had been well accounted for months in advance. That’s how they were able to perfect the suit after all. That’s how they were able to ensure that if one particular aspect of the mission was compromised, another could take its place or at the very least, the mission could continue unimpeded. This over preparedness however went beyond planning for the mission in and of itself. It went beyond even my survival, as macabre as that was. Indeed, due to the lack of intel of the Nexus, the IAS had in fact reacted with increased scrutiny and paranoia at the assurance of control at all costs. This control ranged from the most benign of things such as the shackles placed on my EVI, through to the Broken Arrow protocol, to be activated in the event of my untimely demise.

Indeed, what concerned me most at this point in time was a contingency somewhere in the ballpark of severity between a simple shackle protocol and the Broken Arrow protocol.

As the scientists and administrators back in the IAS were prone to do, it was given a name quite fitting to its purpose, or rather, the context it was designed for.

The Lost and Found procedures.

That was, of course, its colloquial name. In actuality, the operational manual penned it as the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties, or the DSAUP protocols. I had to agree on the colloquial term this time around.

The protocols, or procedures depending on how you looked at them, were deceptively simple. In the case any one container was not signed off on the manifest by its intended operator, or in the case a container was marked missing by its operator, an explosive would be detonated within the container causing the contents within to be rendered beyond practical, operable, observational, and improvisational use by a malicious and/or unauthorized party. The countdown would begin immediately after departure, and was set at 72 hours.

As it stood, the rest of the containers displayed a total of 1 hour having elapsed since the timer had begun, which left be with 71 hours on the clock.

Panic had slowly set in after that realization. Mainly because despite the time out protocols being active, the container also had the ability to detect unauthorized tampering. So in the case of say, a liberal use of force in forcibly opening the container without operator approval… the explosives would be activated all the same. This meant that should the container be tampered with enough, there was a point in which its structural integrity would not be able to contain the blast.

The thing was built to withstand a blast from inside and out, but only up to a certain point of structural integrity.

My panic now was thus derived not just from a complete loss of communication back to Earth, but of a literal ticking time bomb ready to go off at any point.

My whole body felt like it had just been dealt the greatest suckerpunch in the world.

I struggled to find my footing as the suit was quite literally the only thing keeping me from losing my balance. I felt a sense of vertigo spread throughout my form from head to toe, as I closed my eyes and tried my best to remain calm, to regain my footing.

Instead of the slow, gradual journey into regaining my bearings however, I felt a warmth flooding over me similar to the one I felt back in the Grand Hall. It started on my shoulder, with a familiar soft and slightly ticklish touch that sent a wave of warmth radiating through my whole body. After being cut off from the outside world for a full 7 hours, and experiencing the first taste of my life stuck behind a wall of synthetic fibers, steel, composites, and glass, a reassuring touch was the last thing I’d expected. But it was one I needed, as I turned around to face this would-be perpetrator and forced out a smile underneath my helmet.

“Emma, you have been standing staring at your… boxes for a considerable amount of time now. Are you feeling quite alright?” The princess asked with genuine concern.

To which I responded with a confident nod, as a renewed sense of purpose and invigoration flooded over me. “Yeah.”

Now wasn’t the time for panic, it was a time for action. So as soon as I regained my bearings so too did my list of priorities become clear to me. The source of all panic could always be tied to a lack of intel, and perhaps that’s what the Academy was banking on for newrealmers like me. I was convinced now that this entire trial was conducted in such a way that all ‘candidates’ that entered through the portal would be harried, harassed, and consistently put on edge. By overt or subtle means, they would break down these volunteers, until they were more pliable to whatever sick and twisted ambitions the Nexus had in store for them. That would explain why they’d given us scarcely any intel to work with prior to arrival. This would also explain the gaslighting and the constant confusing practices.

That was all just a theory however. I knew however that I was operating solely on anger and frustration at this point in time, and all I had to go on was baseless speculation and anecdotal evidence.

Yet despite this I had all the tools necessary to gather the intel that would be key in supporting my theories. Indeed, I had the tools at my disposal to determine just what became of that missing ECS container.

If the Academy was going to play this game, then they’d find themselves woefully outmatched and underprepared. We were playing by two completely different rulesets. Heck, I’d say we were playing two completely different games outright. Maxxed out spells and tricked out enchantments might have been the name of the game for the likes of Fantasycraft and Worldhammer… but I was playing Call to Conflict.

They had no countermeasures for the moves I could take.

But I had to be wary.

Because that same logic went both ways.

And despite the starting advantage I had with the armor and the painstaking preparations of an entire government agency behind me, I knew better than to underestimate an opponent, especially one with home turf advantage.

At the end of the day, Intel would be the ultimate equalizer here. So it was time to rectify this disparity in situational awareness.

Step one on my priority list, was making use of the over preparedness of the IAS’ logistics and supply division. Courtesy of the Administrator herself, and the various military and government officials who deemed it necessary to push for the over engineered nature of every aspect of this mission. This step would involve the complete and systematic review of the logs of every sensor and camera on these containers.

Accessing CARGO DATALOGS… Standing by…

DATALOGS Ready. Total raw footage: 793 Hours across 122 cameras. Total raw sensor logs: 327 Gigabytes.

Please Specify Query

My heart would have sunk if I was some intern stuck in a low paying data aggregating job back in the 23rd century. Thankfully I wasn’t. It would take weeks for me to review all the footage in real time, not to mention the utter magnitude of data recorded by the sensors. Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to as this was where the EVI would come in…

“EVI, what’s your status?” I spoke within my helmet, making sure all internal audio was severed from the outside world.

“Nominal, Emma Booker. What are your orders?”

“I want a full review of the raw camera footage and sensor scans within the Cargo Datalogs for anything anomalous or that could be considered intentional tampering or misappropriation of any container within the manifest. Anything that could be considered foul play, anything from a few taps on the container to determine what’s inside, all the way through to the suspected attempts at opening the containers. Prioritize determining the location and whereabouts of Container 10.” I barked out, to which the EVI beeped once in affirmation.

“Affirmative. Commencing data aggregation and processing… standby… time to completion… 5 minutes and 43 seconds.” It spoke. Its voice was very much typical of what I’d expected from a military grade EVI. I didn’t know how or why this norm came to be, but the voice was harsher, gruffer, and more direct than that of most civilian smart systems. If it had any emotional inflexions, I could definitely see it being the most passive aggressive backseat driver of all time. Something that I was glad to not have given that it’d be a backseat driver I’d have no chance of escaping from.

With the first order of business pending, I turned to the next item on my priority list: active searching. All the containers were equipped with a corresponding signal I could detect on my scanners. I knew that reviewing the logs would be necessary to narrow down the search radius as it would determine the last known location of the container. But given it would be a full 5 minutes before it was done, I chanced it anyway.

With a few taps of my wrist mounted data-pad, I began pinging for the missing container.

The rest of the containers appeared on screen almost instantly. With the ping radius waning as it failed to travel through the thick solid stone slabs of the castle walls. Maybe it was because of the thickness of the walls themselves, and the fact that they only grew thicker and larger with every floor down. Or perhaps there was some latent signal dampening effect due to some enchantment or mana-derived anomaly. Whatever the case was, my ping wasn’t able to travel more than the dorm, and the hallway in front of it.

With just under 5 minutes left on the clock, I finally turned to face Thacea, who at this point had been worryingly holding on to my shoulder for the entire duration of my voiceless tasks.

The princess would be the third matter to address on my priority list.

“Emma.” She began, as she was able to finally stare at me with those piercing, worrying eyes. “What is the matter?” She asked simply, tightening her grip on my shoulder as she did so.

I sighed in response, letting that go through my vocoders as my hands instinctively reached to pinch the bridge of my nose… only ending in my gloved hands bonking against the glass and steel of my helmet unceremoniously. “I’m missing a container. Er. A piece of luggage. And it holds something very, very important to me.” I stated simply, barely able to hide my tired and strained voice underneath a veneer of stoic confidence.

This seemed to perplex the avian for the briefest of seconds. It hadn’t occurred to me how this might have looked like from an outsider’s perspective. Whining and basically throwing a tantrum over a lost bag… I must have looked like one of those troublesome passengers wheezing and whining at a spaceport baggage claim.

To her credit though, Thacea’s expressions didn’t remain entrenched in perplexity, nor did it evolve into disdain or annoyance. No, it moved into the same genuine look of concern and sympathy that she’d shown me multiple times before. “I see.” She began nodding slowly. “Can I assume that this piece of luggage contains an item that may be more than just a simple change of clothes, er…” She looked me up and down. “Armor… plates…” She corrected herself before moving on. “And perhaps contains materials vital for your ability to sustain your existence here in the Nexus?” She asked, which genuinely impressed me as to her ability to put two and two together that quickly. I’d just briefly touched on the armor’s purpose for my survival in the Nexus during the events of the Grand Hall. Barely a throwaway line before that conversation took a nosedive. So to have Thacea not only remember that, but to reach for such a conclusion was rather impressive. And honestly if it was the tent that was missing she wouldn’t be too far off at that.

“No, no. It’s not that.” I quickly clarified, as I gave the container containing the tent a few hard slaps. “That is all accounted for right here. I guess I should be grateful that I’m not on like a countdown for my assured demise then.” But the potential demise for whoever’s messing with the missing fucking box. I spoke jokingly, which certainly didn’t do much to lighten up the princess’ expressions. “Sorry. Right, so, what I’m missing is an item that isn’t necessarily vital to my long term survival no. However, it’s still something that’s…” Vital to my mission? No, that doesn’t sound right. “... necessary for me to be able to talk to folks back home.” I explained simply.

Thacea seemed to take this with a certain pause, as if considering something before responding proper. “Emma, the Academy doesn’t allow for unmonitored communications back to your homerealm. In fact, only under extraneous circumstances or matters pertaining to an urgency of lifehood, statehood, or personhood, would a portal be opened for the expressed purposes of engaging in conversation and communication. What you talk of is… forbidden.” Thacea explained in a manner that should have sounded blunt, but was tempered by the polite, measured nature of her cadence.

I should’ve guessed as such. It made sense though. Given the fact the Academy seemed hell  bent on shaping their students to their own ends, what better than to deny any and all contact with the outside world? It was step one of starting a cult, making sure that your victims had no lifelines to friends, family, and loved ones. This sent a shiver down my spine in fact, but I didn’t let it bother me too much. Thacea… clearly had a good head on her shoulders. That whole spiel about surviving at the Academy together, rather than fighting amongst ourselves, cemented that fact.

She’d be an ally through and through, something which would be cemented as she continued.

“There are many reasons behind this, Emma. The stated and practical reason being that the liberal use of portals beyond the threshold quota is undeniably linked to the unwarranted expansion of taint, leading to the destabilization of mana-fields over time. This was but one of the reasons for the Great War after all. The unofficial reason is, as you might have surmised-”

“Because they want to control the flow of information. He who controls information, controls you and the world.” I interjected, cocking my head, as it was effectively the only way I could convey a questioning gesture beneath the hardened layers of metal and synthetic weave.

Thacea responded to that rude interruption not with a look of royal disapproval, but a smile of understanding. “Precisely.” She responded curtly.

We stared at each other knowingly for a few moments, as I pondered the importance of what I could call my insight into this alien reality. Thacea clearly had all the traits of someone who knew how to survive. She was smart, witty, she knew how things worked. She was a survivor, and given her rank and the rampant discrimination she faced with her taint status, it was clear that she needed to be smart in order to avoid an untimely demise at the hands of those that vied for her rank and had an easy out for removing her from the picture under the guise her taint.

I really am living a fucking fantasy epic aren’t I… I thought to myself. All those years of reading intense fantasy politics are finally going to be put to good use.

“There is a certain… danger with retrieving your lost luggage if you do wish to pursue it, Emma.” Thacea warned, her expression shifting to a dourness and severity that I hadn’t seen before. “The Academy prefers to play by its own house rules. There are victories that they will tolerate, and some they will not. They practice social warfare in a manner of back and forth escalation. A slight for a slight, a transgression for a transgression. Whatever you wish to win, you will have to lose in comparatively equal terms.” Thacea paused for a solid moment, as if pondering and considering what next to say. “I do not know much about your realm, Emma, and I apologize if this is already known to you. Regardless of if it is, I still feel it prudent to reemphasize the one fundamental cornerstone by which society is forged, here in the Nexus as it is in the adjacent realms.” Thacea took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with me all throughout our interaction. “That cornerstone being, the importance of face. Any transgression will result in one party losing face and there is no means of circumventing that fact without an equal or more extreme sacrifice or loss of face on the end of the perpetrator.”

A wave of indignation filled me as I responded in kind, not so much frustrated at the princess but at the social institutions that underpinned everything here. “So what about my lost luggage? If that’s the case then it’s me who’s losing face by accepting it right? You heard the elf, she said something about it being my world’s fault for losing it and disavowing any and all responsibilities. What did I do to garner that measured response?” I asked back.

“The binding ceremony.” Thacea answered promptly. “The fact that you not only resisted it, but caused an uproar within the faculty, is more than certain to have caused one or more of the staff to lose face. Even as we speak, I assume the Dean, the black-robed and blue robed professors to be in heated arguments over your resistance. It may not be intentional, Emma, but you may have inadvertently caused a few of the higher ups to already lose footing amongst their own. This… loss of luggage as it stands, is a relatively minor loss given what the faculty had lost in front of their own peers, and in front of the first year students as well.” Thacea finally removed her hand from my shoulder, taking a moment to address me with a deliberate austerity that reminded me of the Administrator's talks with her fellow higher ups. “It’s a warning, Emma. It’s a warning to accept this one loss, in restitution for the loss you’ve inflicted on the faculty. It is a token of peace, in a manner of speaking. If you leave it at this, then I can only assume that moving forward, a blank slate approach can be taken to your time here at the Academy. The faculty will move on from this infraction of their unquestionable status, and you can move on with only a single article of luggage missing.” The princess at this point seemed more than the skittish, submissive bird I’d seen in my first few interactions during the Grand Hall. This was genuine royalty. This was the complex overthinking I’d expected from someone who managed to survive this long in this cutthroat world of court politics.

I took a moment to gather myself as I assessed my options, and took a series of deep audible breaths in and out. “Alright.” I started. “Alright. I understand.” I continued, as I tried to wrack my head around with an appropriate response to everything. “However, I have to disagree with you on a few particular points, Thacea.” I finally pushed back, garnering a look of questioning curiosity from the avian as she nodded for me to continue. “I don’t doubt your perspectives. You have invaluable insight into how things work over here, and for that I can’t thank you enough.” I gave the avian a slight bow in gratitude. “However, whilst your expertise may be in politics, mine is in the art of war. And at this point in time, an unconscionable threat has just begun with a clock that continues to tick down further and further toward a point of no return. Because this matter isn’t just a show of politics. It’s a palpable threat as the container in question houses technologies far beyond the capabilities of the Academy, and heck, perhaps the entire Nexus. We’re talking about the theft of technologies that would far outweigh any social restitution this may involve. So I’m thinking this whole situation is a mix of both of our analyses, Thacea. However, as it stands, I cannot sit by and allow political acquiescence to trump strategic losses.” I explained in no uncertain terms.

“And what’s more…” I began to trail off, my heart once more beating out of my chest as I shook in place, debating whether it was worth it bringing someone else into this… but soon realizing that my chances were better with someone else who held this level of insight into a place I had nothing on. “There’s a potential that if they try to open it, it might end up hurting a lot of people, Thacea.”

The avian’s expressions shifted dramatically upon this revelation, as she met my gaze with a single, plainly spoken question. “What do you mean?”

“The container… it… my people saw it fit to place a device within it. A device that has the ability to completely destroy all the contents within it. This device was designed in such a way that without my interference, it will activate within a set amount of time. In addition, should the container detect sufficient evidence of tampering, it also has the ability to activate this device. In normal circumstances, the container is capable of withstanding the destructive forces of this device. However, in the event the container’s structural integrity is compromised beyond a certain point, there is a possibility of the container failing and thus leading to unintended collateral damage to anything and anyone around it at the time of its activation.” I stated simply, succinctly, almost repeating verbatim what the logistics technicians briefed me in preparation for this mission.

Thacea’s eyes once more sharpened, as she cocked her head, deep in whatever analytical thought she was busy tackling. It didn’t take long however before she’d reveal what was on her mind, and her response wasn’t what I was expecting. “Emma, if you’re worried about the Academy’s staff, somen of the most renowned and talented magic users in the entire known Nexus from falling prey to a simple trap spell, then I think your worries are quite unfounded and we can rest assured that there shall be no losses aside from that of your communications artifice.” The avian attempted to reassure me.

“Thacea…” I spoke under an exasperated breath. “This isn’t something that you can just wish away using a spell or flick of a wand. There’s no dispelling spell or resistance magic or whatever that can get you out of this one. This is a bomb, Thacea. And no matter what these magic users do, there’s nothing that can stop it.”