(Photo by NASA)

There was something about being in full dress uniform that made other people pay just that much more attention to you. There weren’t many instances that warranted the full-dress uniform and so it most sat unused in her wardrobe. Pulling it out and laying it flat on the table before her was almost always a reason for excitement. The last time she’d worn it was when she’d been promoted to the rank of Conflagrator and given command of her battalion. This was not one of those moments that she’d been eagerly looking forward to, but one that had been on her mind for some time, nonetheless.

Piece by piece she dressed, ensuring that nothing was out of place or soiled. The first layers were comprised of padding and body armor. It would have been far too heavy for a person to wear were it not for the magic that had been imbued into it. As each segment was slid into place they melded together to form a seamless suit that protected every inch of her body and moved with her freely. Following the armor, she began attaching the various pieces of draping cloth. Strips of crimson and orange fabric, signifying her rank, adorned her back, arms, and torso. Once in place, the fabric drew upon the magic of her suit and began to shimmer as though they were made of actual fire. In fact, it wasn’t just an illusion. With a thought she could make flames truly burn, although she’d never found herself in a situation where she’d needed to do that.

She was almost finished when a knock at her door sounded.

“Enter,” Fas stated and her door de-materialized.

Skith walked in a moment later, already in his full-dress uniform. It was very much like Fas’ with the exception that he only bore orange strips of cloth. He saluted and Fas tapped his hands.

“Report,” Fas said.

“The two units of Embers, along with their Sparks, are in position at the outer door of the warehouse as ordered. Igniter Prin is ready in Observation. We are awaiting further orders.”

“Very good,” Fas nodded. “You will accompany me inside the warehouse to assist me. Igniter Prin is to send the units in should we run into any trouble while we’re working with the Ka’Raks.”

“I will relay your instructions,” Skith replied.

“Deliver them in person,” Fas warned, “not over the neural network.”

“Yes, Conflagrator,” Skith replied, and then added, “May I ask why we’re conveying orders in this manner?”

It was a reasonable question. Information could be disseminated so much more quickly and efficiently over the neural network.

“I’m not certain what capabilities the Ka’Raks have,” Fas explained, “and until I’m certain that they can’t tap into it, we will need to limit such communications.”

“My understanding was that the warehouse was shielded against such signals and that that was why Igniter Prin was needed in Observation,” Skith replied.

In Fas’ experience, she found that most people greatly underestimated what Ka’Raks were capable of doing even when everything that was known about technology and magic stated that certain things were impossible.

“Those are my orders and my reasoning for them.”

Fas generally gave Skith greater lenience with regards to his duties and privileges, including allowing him to ask for clarification or explanations from time to time but there were instances when she either didn’t have the time or the means to fully lay everything out for him. Skith saluted, signifying his acceptance, and waited for Fas to place her hand upon his so he could go deliver the orders. Fas, however, did not release him just yet. Instead, she strode over to her wardrobe and retrieved from it the box that housed her helmet.

She set it down on the table and opened the box. She knew Skith would be able to see the contents and it was a testament to his discipline that he didn’t break his salute. He did, however, open his eyes wide and take in a sudden gasp.

Fas placed her hand on Skith’s outstretched hands and then motioned for him to step a bit closer to the table.

“Due to the dangerous nature of our assignment,” Fas said, “we will both be wearing our full armor, including our helmets.”

Skith nodded and turned slightly, revealing his own helmet currently strapped onto his back.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked.

Fas withdrew the helmet from the box, a significant aura emanating from the translucent surfaces. It was perfectly smooth beneath her fingers and yet she had no difficulty handling it. There was no warmth or chill to its touch. In fact, it was difficult to tell she was holding anything at all since the helmet also had no weight. That said, if she dropped it, the helmet would still fall to the floor. It was the most unnatural thing she had ever seen herself, not to mention be the owner of.

“It’s a pure magic helmet,” Fas stated in answer to Skith’s question. “Awarded to me for services rendered just prior to my promotion to Conflagrator.”

“I had no idea,” Skith said, still in awe.

“It’s not an award that they announce,” Fas said. “I wouldn’t be showing you this except for the fact that, once given such an award, you’re not allowed to use anything else in its place.”

Fas placed the helmet over her head and it melded into the rest of her armor. However, this time, instead of simply creating a smooth join, the rest of her armor became translucent as well as the magic of the helmet flooded into her suit and temporarily overcoming the physical material in her armor and replacing it with magic. Such figures on a battlefield were rare but always a significant rallying point since such armor was all but invincible. Some had even survived orbital bombardments while thus armored.

“Conflagrator,” Skith began uneasily, “there’s been some discussion among the soldiers about your past experience with the Ka’Raks.”

“In what way?”

“It was mentioned in your promotion ceremony that you had provided key support in the effort against the Ka’Raks, and most supposed that meant you were being commended for a battle, but this assignment has made some wonder if your previous experience was not specific to the battlefield.”

“What have been your thoughts on the matter?”

“Pure magic helmets aren’t awarded for simple battle honors,” Skith remarked.

“You’ve read my service record, yes?”

“I did,” Skith nodded, “your last assignment prior to assuming command of the battalion was on Isarch.”

“And what did you find out about Isarch when you looked it up?”

“It’s a contested world,” Skith replied. “Ka’Rak forces are significant but not insurmountable.”

“And how many of our forces are stationed there?”

Skith’s eyes glazed over slightly and Fas knew he was accessing the information via the neural network. A moment later, Skith’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “It’s listed as contested but I don’t see any forces assigned to Isarch.”

“I was serving under the command of Conflagrator Bielus,” Fas began and noted how Skith’s eyes glazed over again, undoubtedly looking up Conflagrator Bielus’ service record. “We were en-route to an assignment when our transport ship was attacked. Isarch had previously been uninhabited and our flight path took us through that system for a gravity assist around its star. Unfortunately, Ka’Raks had since settled Isarch and our presence set off their orbital defenses. We were completely unprepared for the assault. Within minutes we were without power and drifting with the Ka’Raks still bombarding us.”

Memories of those frantic minutes, the ship being blasted apart all around her, the sirens blaring before everything went eerily dark and silent.

“Next thing I knew, I was outside the ship. The section I’d been in had been hit and the explosion shot me through the bulkhead and out into space. I’d have died then and there if I hadn’t been in my armor. Not many had the chance to get their armor on in time.”

“Conflagrator Bielus is listed as having fallen in battle,” Skith said when Fas paused in her recounting, “with his battalion marked as a complete loss.” The confusion in his voice was apparent. “How could it be a complete loss if you survived? And,” his eyes glazed back over momentarily, “how could you have been assigned to Isarch? I can’t find any other records for anyone else being stationed there.”

“After the explosion,” Fas explained, “I found myself falling toward Isarch. I didn’t have much in the way of tools, but I had managed to grab a booster pack. At the time I’d intended to use it to navigate the ship since the induced gravity field was down, but it worked just fine in open space. The booster pack wouldn’t be enough to de-orbit me so I scanned the debris field until I found a large enough piece of the ships hull for me to crouch down behind during reentry. That provided me with enough protection that I didn’t burn up, and it also helped to slow down my descent. Once I was near enough to the surface that I couldn’t see the curvature of the plant I engaged the booster. I did short bursts at first but once I’d slowed down enough I was able to bring myself down at a safe enough velocity.”

“How long did it take for you to be discovered and rescued?” Skith asked. “And how did you avoid from being found by the Ka’Raks?”

“I didn’t get rescued,” Fas said. “No one knew I’d survived and I didn’t have any beacons to signal for rescue.”

“What did you do then, steal a Ka’Rak ship?”

Fas laughed. “No,” she said, “I conquered the planet.”

Skith stared at her, slack jawed and speechless.

“Isarch is listed as contested because it’s entirely populated by Ka’Raks who are loyal to…us,” she said somewhat awkwardly. “But this isn’t exactly common knowledge yet and we don’t want ships going there to resupply and being surprised when they find a world full of Ka’Raks.”

“How?” Skith asked. He mouthed the word a couple more times as though searching for the words to ask the myriad of questions he had.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Fas said, motioning for him to follow her. “Some think I got lucky, others think I may have finally figured the Ka’Raks out.”

With that, she led Skith out of her quarters and began making their way towards the warehouse where the Ka’Raks were held. If she could repeat her success again, albeit on a smaller scale. They were almost there when Skith finally spoke up.

“The initial orders given to the battalion,” he said quietly to avoid being overheard, “stated we were to research the Ka’Raks and determine whether it was magic or technology that they used.”

“Correct,” Fas muttered back. “I believe I’ve already figured that out, and this is the means of proving it.”

She knew Skith still wouldn’t understand. It had been difficult for her to understand, let alone accept as being right, when she’d first come to her conclusions about them. Just telling Skith what she’d discovered would probably be just as futile as it had been the first time she’d tried to explain it to her superiors. It was only once she’d shown the evidence of her claims that they had begun to even consider what she’d told them. Even now she doubted that they believed her fully. Why else would they have assigned her to this post so quickly before she’d had adequate time to settle into her new responsibilities. At least they’d given her mostly fresh recruits. They would be easier to work with in the long run.

Once she and Skith reached the warehouse, Skith turned off to one side and made his way to the small building beside the warehouse that held Observation so he could pass along Conflagrator Fas’ instructions. Fas waited in front of the large doors, flanked on either side by the units she’d ordered to stand ready. This gave the soldiers ample opportunity to see her in her armor, her pure magic armor, and hopefully quiet some of the concerns and doubts that were circulating. No doubt as soon as the soldiers returned to their barracks the word would spread that their Conflagrator was one of the select few to have been awarded such a prize. That sort of thing inspired people and Fas, more than anything, needed her soldiers to believe in her.