Chapter 3

The train had begun its slow crawl onto Sephiro Station, the cars were abuzz with activity as soldiers from every class of the Zeraph Republic had prepared to depart. Mageblades rumbled out first, their heavy armor in baggage while their plasma swords slung light on their backs. Lancers led their horses by the reins, marching in a single line.

All while the Voltiir Line infantry waited for their turn to depart. Likaya stood alongside her platoon, though she no longer led them. She felt it was necessary that she stayed close, till she no longer could. Her Sergeants had taken command, and soon enough they’d be shipped off to officer school.

She bade her unit a tearful goodbye as she mounted her horse and rode off to her new home of Fort Wilks. Aster had grown close with her unit. She had lead them for the past three years, through brutish battles and near endless campaigns. They had faced Ovakians, Skolics and even Renegade Mangani. They were a unit, a family that had suffered so much losses and so much triumphs. She didn’t think it would end like this, at the event of a new commission.

“You’ll see them again.” Her brother had sensed her grief as he rode alongside her. The plodding of her horse’s hooves grew tiring in their sequence, a conversation with family outside of the confines of military structure was well needed.

“You know I miss them.” She replied as her thoughts recalled a moment of casual celebration that she spent with the platoon.

“Leaving a family is always hard, I understand.”

“I hope the new one is a good bunch. What is this damned commission after anyway?” The frustration was seeping in.

“You made Captain, didn’t even have to pass the full course. That’s Dragon Point Academy’s prestige. Be proud!”

“It’s just that, where’s my company? How come I only get a special mission? A squad?”

Jovin didn’t speak.

“I’m right aren’t I?” Her brother only nodded his head.

“Well, I’ll bring this all up with the Colonel. Get things cleared up.”

“And I’ll be there with you all right?” Jovin’s assurance was comforting.

“Well, I just hope I could make a family with this platoon.” She smiled.

A scoff cracked from her brother’s mouth. One she felt uncomfortable with.

“What was that?” Aster Likaya turned to face him, blocking his horse with hers.

Captain Jovin Likaya was a seasoned veteran, a soldier of many wars. And an accomplished Battle Mage. He was also an honest man, almost to a fault. “Aster, it’s nothing to worry about. But.”

Aster interrupted her brother with a sharp gasp, as a disturbing thought entered her head.

“Am I leading a squadron of rejects! Are you telling me that this new platoon will be made up of criminals and thieves who were one crime too short for the gallows? Is that it?”

Jovin rubbed his face in anguish. His sister was a stickler for proper military decorum, a proper career soldier and a strong believer in her abilities as a warrior. The idea of leading a unit of disciplinary cases was an understandable fear of hers. “Aster, ASTER!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, thankful he didn’t have to pull rank.

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” She exclaimed, parting her horse allowing the anger to dissipate.

Jovin sighed, as he led his horse forward.

“The DragonWolves are the opposite of the rejects you feared you’d lead. In fact, they might be too ‘perfect’ for you to handle.”

…

Fort Wilks was simple, a stretch of tents and walls built to hold vital choke point before any invading force entered the valley. But the strangest part of it was the appearance of her residents. The guards were the usual military drivel, proper in all necessary things and ready to serve at a moment’s notice. But the guests of the fortress were indeed strange, these were voltiirs of a silent and stoic stock. All dressed in proper decorum and marched in a battle line formation at all situations, yet they were of different races. Human, Mangani Ape men, knife eared Elves, green skinned Orsims and even the Xanithite lizard men.

They never walked alone, and entire platoons could be seen marching in perfect cadence. Some even in full battle gear, down to autocross teams lugging their heavy weapon sets and accompanying Gearbanes that bristled with arcane energy and steam power. But the most striking tool these soldiers voltiirs wielded was the bayonet that stuck to the head of their blast staeves. The attachment bore a curved sickle blade at its bottom, just the right size to penetrate the smallest of armor gaps.

Aster didn’t feel like she had entered a Fort that had whittled down its activity due to the end of the war. For this place was no different than the camps at the Ovakian border. This was a place that was ready for war. “Varker would have loved this place.” She whispered, low enough that her brother heard nothing.

“He would have.” He added, his hearing was still sharp after all. Aster nodded in response and sucked in whatever grief had begun to resurface. The two passed by scores of entire voltiir columns, lined up and ready for combat. Despite there being no war afoot. Still, the men and women of this strange regiment all marched in unison. As if ready to face combat at a moment’s notice. They arrived at a tent that sat at a location of strategic safety which was at the middle of the fortress. Far from the walls, but in short distance to rally a swift defense.

The regiment’s strange banner sat at the front of the tent. A dark green banner where the light gray symbol of a leathery winged wolf sat in the middle.

Banner of the DragonWolves, the 50^th Regiment.

“Captain Jovin Likaya and Captain Aster Likaya reporting for duty.” The two entered the tent and introduced themselves, getting ready to salute at any commander in the vicinity. The officer’s face was burned beyond recognition, her eyes seemingly lost in the scarification.

Still she stood up and snapped a salute. “Captains” She replied, and gestured towards the other side of the room. Three men stood at the other side, their uniforms pressed and straight. While their chests were riddled with more combat badges than Aster had seen in her life. She had fought for three long years, and she only had two combat badges. The man wearing the Lieutenant’s uniform had what appeared to be seven combat badges stuck to his left breast.

“Colonel Xerxes, delivering assigned Captain Aster Likaya. Sir!” Jovin announced himself, snapping a crisp salute which Aster replicated. The old Orsim bore no expression on his face, only a blank stare that seemed as pale as the white scars that sat on his green skin. But what Aster found strangest of all, was the lack of any clan markings on the man.

The Orsims were traditional to a fault, they wore the markings of their tribal communities in clear view of everyone. Be it facial tattoos, ritual scarification, or simple hair ties, an Orsim wore their tribe. This old man wore nothing but the scars of his service, and his uniform.

“At ease” the Colonel ordered, Aster and her brother complied. Placing their hands behind their backs. “

This is Captain Xenophon, he leads Company H’s Voltiir light infantry.” Xenophon nodded his head at the Captains. Aster expected a handshake, none was given.

“I understand Captain Aster will be taking command of the squad?” Xenophon was clearly of half-elven stock, sunken cheeks, angled eyes and somewhat sharpened ears. But unlike the rest of his kind, his voice had little to no accent.

“Yes Captain. I will be.” At Aster’s word, the Lieutenant that stood by the side gave her a crisp salute. Unlike the others, this one was a baseline human. Brown skinned, dark haired, gray eyed and sporting a few combat scars on his face.

“This is Lieutenant Able Froster of the third platoon. But now second in command of Lictor Squad. Your new outfit Captain Likaya.” Aster offered a hand to the Lieutenant, hesitant at first. The man inched his hand towards hers and shook it, their scarred palms met, signaling some measure of an assurance that both had served in battle.

“Captain.” Able Froster’s voice was blunt yet clear. The perfect military tone. “A pleasure Lieutenant,” She replied as they returned to the introduction.

“Now, as the briefing states. This is a direct order from the Republic Recon Collective, you are to lead a team to the Suha Marshes with the intent to recover the journal of archaeologist Dorian Keever.”

The picture of their charge displayed a bearded half-elf wearing rounded spectacles and sporting a faint smile. The file said he had been embedded in Southron University for four years. History was hiding something if the Collective kept such an agent that deep.

“The man is an asset of the Republic Recon Collective. Embedded in an academic expedition from Southron University, but approximately four days ago. He was theorized to have been killed by external forces. Dorian Keever’s journal has an inbuilt trace emitter, it was activated just four days, exactly at the time of his disappearance.” The Colonel continued without a break in his words as he detailed the mission’s parameters.

“Your mission is to retrieve Keever’s journal, and if possible retrieve Keever and any mission sensitive assets that the professor may be carrying/ But the Collective has already accepted the loss of the agent and they prioritize getting the journal back instead if Keever has not survived.”

The mission, didn’t have a lot of details to it, other than the location and the objective. Perhaps that was why they wanted someone with the arcane eye to handle it.

“Captain Likaya, you have been selected lead Lictor Squad due to your mastery of the skill known as the arcane eye, every .ember of this unit has mastered the ability and they would benefit from your leadership. The success of this mission relies on your new squad following the arcane emitter’s trail, the mission requires that at least the journal be recovered in any case. Is that clear Captain?”

“Yes sir, I’ll do everything I can to complete our objectives.” She confirmed, giving him a slight nod.

Aster had served for nearly three years, unremarkable compared to others. But still enough for her to encounter hundreds if not thousands of personalities and archetypes. As a student of anthropology, she was observant to a fault. Always taking in mental notes while writing imagined essays of cultures and sub cultures, despite her long departure from the field.

Despite the assumed diversity in the room, she was unsettled to realize how textbook the DragonWolves were with their near accentless voices and their unsettling blank stare. She had yet to meet such a regiment.

“Captain Likaya” The Colonel called, “Yes sir.” She piped, snapping out of her personal musings.

“Lictor Squad will be taking a Steam Boat through Keleesi River. We’ve modified the ship to carry both of your Gearbanes. The craft leaves at 0900, tomorrow. Have your squad ready by then. Dismissed.”

With that, the introduction was over. Not much was spoken other than what was needed, no small talk was initiated. When they left the tent, Aster bid her goodbyes to her brother. Both as soldiers and as siblings leaving her to Lieutenant Able Froster to introduce her to the squad. She at first was led to her own quarters, a small cottage where other officers were bunked. The room was standard fortress fair for officer’s quarters, one bed, one bath room, a table, a few lamps and a bookshelf. Her things were already brought in, save for her personal armor. “Lieutenant, where did my armor go?” She asked.

The second in command straightened his posture as he delivered the answer to the Aster’s question.

“Regiment Regulation 330-A6 states that all combat armor is to be assessed and maintained at the company armory. Your equipment is in Compound 9, maintained by archanist mechanics of the 50^th Regiment.”

“Hey, voltiir. At ease. I respect the decorum but you can calm down.” Aster added some lightness to her tone, even cracking a smile. The Lieutenant did not reciprocate. “Ok then. But I’d like to remind you I am a Battle Mage. Army regulation states that a Commissioned Officer of the Line Infantry is allowed to personally keep and maintain their armor within the premises of their own personal quarters.”

The Lieutenant stiffened once more before he replied.

“Permission to speak freely mam.” He asked. Aster granted it.

“The DragonWolves follow Regiment Regulations, that is the standard procedure.”

“Regiment Regulations eh? Alright you win.” Aster raised her hand in high five, the Lieutenant did not reciprocate. “Don’t leave me hanging Lieutenant.” She joked.

“Mam?” He wondered, the color of confusion had just landed on his stony demeanor.

“Slap my hand Lieutenant” Aster by now had realized how strange her Lieutenant was, and had garnered an inkling of how to engage in conversation with what she regarded to be the living embodiment of military regulation. Ever the obedient soldier, Froster had slowly raised his hand and planted it on hers, his eyes fixed in an awkward gaze directed at the Captain’s palm.

“By the Eternal Star, where did you grow up Lieutenant?” Aster asked, joking of course.

“Agoge Valley mam” He replied.

“Oh, farmer’s child eh?”

“No mam.”

“Then how were you raised then? Speak up voltiir”

“Just the Agoge Valley mam.”

The Captain by now had felt the heavy weight of her disappointment, the strangeness of her assignment coupled with the unfamiliar collection of soldiers she had to lead was beginning to take its toll. And her Lieutenant’s earlier rigid but now unprofessional response had perhaps pushed her closer to the zenith of her emotions. But Aster Likaya was a Battle Mage and an officer of the Line Infantry. She was a judge of not only the ever shifting tides of the battlefield, but also an excellent reader of any mortal’s true emotions.

As far as she could tell, Able Froster was not lying. The black of his eyes were stable, the strain on his face was none existent and the breathing was indeed well paced.

“To the squad then.” Likaya felt the need to prod, but decided against it for the mission was close.