Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

Video games made using grapple guns look easy.

Recreational climbing made me feel like it was impossible.

Military training managed to temper my expectations, and combine the best and worst of both worlds into something actually doable.

My aunt, however, had some very strong opinions on their use.

“Grappling Hooks? In the modern military? What do you take me for, a fucking goober?” I heard my aunt’s voice echoing loud and clear as the day my 14 year-old mil-sim-lite obsessed self dared to ask her that dreaded question.

“But Aunty Ran, surely there were times where a grappling hook was useful in one of your deployments?” I’d ask back, excitedly as well, given how a certain infamous Call to Valor title had more or less featured it throughout the game, and had single-handedly propelled the image of a grapple-launcher wielding TSEC trooper into public consciousness.

“The Jovian Uprisings was a stint that lasted barely a year, and was more or less limited to station combat. Where the hell would I have found time to use a grappler?”

“When the station broke in half and you had to grapple onto the other side in order to save your squad? Come on, Auntie, they said that that scene was based on a real life war story! Yours!”

“Okay fine. I was the goober who rocked up two uses of a grappler out of the five logged in the entire deployment. But just so you know, they exaggerated that scene in that silly game of yours since they had artistic license, Emma. Now, what do you want to know about grapplers?”

“I wanna know if the game did it justice or not.”

“Okay, what did the game teach you?”

“Well, you target where you want the grappling hook to go.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then you shoot the grapple.”

“Okay.”

“Then, you fling yourself off the edge, while shooting the next grapple, then unlocking the original one, and you just repeat the steps like you’re swinging across vines!”

My aunt’s deathly silence was challenged only by my puppy-dog-eyed perseverance, so she eventually did relent. “I guess that’s one way of using it, if you’re a fricking goober. Any other questions?”

“Erm, how do you get good at using them?”

“Simple. You don’t. You use it once, in your entire career, then forget it exists. Then you spend the next two decades of your life training for another use-case scenario that never comes, and you never really get over the vertigo either. The trick is to just not use it. And if you do, don’t use it in rapid succession like it’s some kind of a fucking superhero toy. It’s not for swinging around like a monkey. It’s for sticky situations where you need to hold onto something, or launch yourself between two spaces. But heck if I know how to get good at that silly game of yours, because real life is a heck of a lot different, even more different than training will ever have you believe.”

And she was right, real life was definitely a heck of a lot different.

Because when you were out here in the field, when you actually looked down to see neither an END-SIMULATION pop-up, a physical safety net, or an instructor waving you on, things became fundamentally different.

Especially when what was straight down was nothing but a two-thousand foot drop into white-water rapids, courtesy of the Academy’s insane decision to build its campus atop of a raging fucking waterfall.

“Anchor-point secure. Target 1 reached. Locking onto the next target.” The EVI’s voice announced loud and clear, completely cutting through any and all anxiety-driven doubts I had, its overbearing assertiveness was remarkably useful in keeping me grounded and out of what my instructor liked to call the panic zone.

“Target locked.”

My eyes were now drawn to the HUD’s reticles, as it locked onto another one of the many large decorative outcroppings jutting out of the castle walls. This one looked like some sort of a large pot with exaggeratedly large flowers sticking out of it.

“Requesting operator status: Confirm readiness.”

I started shuffling in place, adjusting my orientation in mid-air, as I began reorienting the suit’s mounted grapple-launcher. “Operator ready, fire left grapple.”

“Firing [L] Grapple in 3, 2, 1…”

THUOOMP!

The launch of the grapple was accompanied by a strangely satisfying sound that was disturbingly similar to the one made by old-fashioned grenade launchers. Though to be fair, more seasoned specialists claimed that you could actually hear the electrostatic discharge from the magnetic rails prior to the signature thuoomp.

I couldn’t make it out though.

But that was probably because all I could hear between the right grapple launching, and the clanking of metal against solid stone were the constant thump thump thumps of my heartbeat resonating deep within my eardrums.

“Unlocking Anchor-point on Target 1 in 3… 2… 1, Forward-motion commencing.”

The world flew by me as I felt that gut-churning lurching of my whole body weight being flung on a single anchor point. Vertigo threatened to kick in hard, as training and discipline were the only two things keeping it from outright sending me into a panicked frenzy.

The swinging was mitigated though once my whole body had successfully transitioned forward by a whopping 20 feet, and up another 5 feet, as the stabilizers were doing their best to prevent the forward momentum from going too wild.

“Anchor-point secure. Target 2 reached. Locking onto the next target.”

The next target the HUD’s reticles had locked onto was an outcropping in the shape of a large lantern.

“Target locked.”

“Requesting operator status: Confirm readiness.”

I once again shuffled in place, now battling against the residual momentum that still swung me back and forth. A likelihood-of-success indicator next to the targeting reticles flew back and forth between the green and the red, as if to reinforce the fact that death was just a single error away.

“Operator ready, fire right grapple.”

“Firing [R] Grapple in 3, 2, 1…”

THUOOMP!

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Medical Wing Tower C, 5 Feet Right of Room 705’s Balcony. Local Time: 1505 Hours.

Emma Booker

I’d made it.

I felt like jello, I could feel bile rising up to my throat, and my breath struggled to remain just short of the panic zone, but I made it all the same.

It took over 50 grapples, and each one was just slightly different enough that it never got much better.

I totally understand now why my Aunt called this an exercise in goober-tactics.

Whatever the case was, now was the time to shift from goober operator mode, and back into diplomacy mode. Which was definitely going to be awkward, and a heck a lot more difficult to do compared to the garden episode, considering the fact that this would be covert diplomacy Romeo and Juliet style straight onto a balcony.

There were a lot of ways I could approach this. However, a part of me just wanted to start swinging, generating enough momentum to then slam right through the balcony doors and into the room.

A star-studded entrance befitting of an operator.

Alas, the mission parameters didn’t allow for it. If this were anything but a semi-covert operation, I would’ve entertained that idea with a lot more seriousness.

With the way things were developing however, I knew I had to get clever about this. I could just land sneakily onto the balcony and start tapping on the window. I could also try getting the apprentice’s attention by shining a light or a laser through or something.

The list of ideas that I hadn’t considered until I got up to the last leg of the journey was growing exponentially with each passing second.

However, as fate would have it, I wouldn’t get to use any of those ideas.

The doors to the balcony suddenly clicked, unlocking themselves as the apprentice hobbled her way over to one of the ornate chairs on the balcony.

“I was informed that there might be someone outside wishing to speak to me, in private?” The apprentice started looking around.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 545% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

And just as quickly began casting a few spells in an attempt to scope out my presence.

The active-camo really was doing wonders.

“Yes, erm, it’s me, Cadet Emma Booker.” I managed out awkwardly, as I decided against actually landing on the balcony, or even taking off my cloak’s active camo for that matter. “I’m wondering if it’ll be alright if we talked like this? You know with-”

“Do not speak.” The apprentice interjected sharply, as another mana radiation warning probably signaled the creation of a privacy screen.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

“Keeping yourself out of sight would be a prudent way to go forward with this illicit meeting, yes.” The Apprentice managed out with a frustrated sigh. “Just let it be known, that under almost all other circumstances, I would find this manner of discourse entirely unacceptable. However… given how things have developed, I believe it would be safe to say that this particular instance would fall under one of the few exceptional circumstances in which I will tolerate this unconventional meeting.” The apprentice paused, taking a moment to struggle into the reclined chair as she weakly raised a hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun.

“Yeah, I know this is a bit unconventional, but as I said before, the issue I need to bring up with you is something that is deathly serious. You don’t think I’d risk my life climbing over here just to finish… whatever the heck this whole point of personal privilege is now would you?”

The apprentice paused, as if she was actually taking that rhetorical question into serious consideration, which gave me genuine concern as to how far these Nexian social conventions actually went. “I wouldn’t rule it out, some of the nobility hedge their entire identities on the basis of honor, bound to the expectant decorum and the rules that bind.” The apprentice managed out coolly, before shifting the small talk into an entirely new direction I wasn’t at all expecting. “But I digress. I owe a debt to you, Emma Booker, one that transcends my duties and responsibilities as an apprentice of the Academy, and the scholarly ties that bind.”

“A debt?” I parrotteed back, my mind going blank on what the elf could mean for a solid second, before it finally hit me. “You mean what happened in the gardens? Listen, apprentice, I just did what I had to do, and what was right at the time. There’s no need for this whole debt business alright? Anyone half decent would’ve done the same. Plus, it was more or less just self defense at that point.”

The apprentice shook her head vehemently at that. “It is one thing to defend oneself against an active threat, and in doing so, saving others around them by virtue of the necessity to save themselves. It is another matter entirely to act out of the goodness of one’s heart, to go beyond self-preservation, but to act with empathy and compassion to the lives around oneself. Through accounts from the Gardener to the Master-Healer, to my own limited recollection of the events from the garden, I have come to understand that you belong to the latter categorization. I have also been led to believe that it was likewise your prompt actions that led directly to my chances of survival being far greater than what they would have been had you not been there in what the Master-Healer calls the life-saving seconds. And because of all of this, I Larial Essen, now owe a life debt to you, Emma Booker.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, as my whole focus had now entirely shifted away from the weird sensation of my whole body swaying gently in the breeze held on by a single tether, to this whole medieval-era life debt business that I had no cultural context for. It felt oddly surreal to have someone be pouring their heart out like this, to have someone be actively crediting me for saving their life when I felt like I honestly hadn’t done much at all.

“I… erm, thank you, Apprentice, for the kind words.” I managed out in a half-confused, half-dazed manner as I tried to recover from that radical shift in the conversation I hadn’t at all expected.

“Words are not a requisite for gratitude, Emma Booker. Most certainly not in this instance. You should be less humble about your heroics, as the humble can only go so far in this world.” The apprentice paused ominously as it was clear she was considering her next few words carefully. “It is unbecoming for a being of your capabilities to be so restrained.”

It genuinely felt as if the Apprentice wanted to carry that conversation forward, opening her mouth only to close it shut soon after. It was only after a solid half a minute of silence did she finally raise the issue she wanted to address. “The manner in which you dispatched the null is as unconventional as the means by which you have assailed the heights of these castle walls; which in and of itself is a feat impossible to most mages or anyone with conventional biology. I wish to address these matters in greater detail. I wish to understand just what those three successive cracks of lightningless thunder were, and how they were capable of neutralizing the threat of the null… but that would be unbecoming of me. This is your conversation after all, Emma Booker, and I need not take up more of your time by diving into a series of interrogatives which I have no right to ask.”

The apprentice’s whole shift in tone was radical, at least by the Nexus’ standards where it felt like every single person in authority was more or less an immovable force of nature, with the sole exception of Sorecar of course. So this willingness to actually hear me out, despite it necessitating me saving a person’s life, was progress that I honestly wouldn’t question. At least not until I got the crate situation sorted.

“Thank you for taking this whole situation seriously, Apprentice.” I started out politely, seeing that there was no need to ram the issue in her face as this whole exchange more or less proved to me that the elf was finally willing to listen. “I’m not sure how much you remember of the events before the… incident, so I’ll just be blunt in my recap. I know for a fact that Professor Mal’tory not only knows about the whereabouts of my missing crate, but has taken possession of it. While that’s a whole issue and a genuine offense in its own right, I didn’t climb all the way here just to start a fuss about theft.”

I paused, waiting for the apprentice to interrupt me like she did in the gardens. I even gave her ample time to raise her voice in vehement denial about my blatant accusations.

But nothing came.

This prompted me to continue.

“This is about a threat which is lying in wait within the box, Apprentice.” I spoke in no uncertain terms. “Because inside that box is a fail-safe: a mechanism designed to protect the contents within from tampering and misappropriation. The mechanism’s sole purpose is to destroy, and its destructive potential is contained only by the six metal panels which make up its walls. It is a destructive device, and under typical conditions, it is a safe device. It was not designed to kill, but given the right parameters, it can and will.”

I half expected the apprentice to raise her nose up at that, to enter the denial Olympics yet again, but she didn’t. Instead, she reacted in the exact opposite way I’d expected her to, as the color from her face began to drain, and her pupils began dilating, leaving only one thing present in her eyes: fear.

Without any interruptions, I pressed forward, trying my best to bridge the apprentice’s fundamental systemic incongruence as I had done before with Thacea.

“The protection afforded by the box’s metal panels have their limits, and more worryingly these limits can be overcome. The device is designed to activate when it senses that these limits are being purposefully tampered. The device is also designed to activate after a certain amount of time has elapsed. These two factors will determine if and when the destructive potential is unleashed, and there is no means of preventing its activation if the former or the latter conditions are fulfilled. The only means of preventing the possibility of this destructive potential being unleashed is by returning the crate to me, as only I have the ability to prevent its activation.” I paused for effect, before hammering home my message with a simple, resonant warning. “There is nothing else in the Nexus that can prevent this, and I do not wish for humanity's diplomatic legacy to begin with a preventable tragedy incurred by flagrant acts of pettiness.”

The apprentice’s face shriveled inwards, her whole body slid deeper and deeper into the reclined chair. Her eyes looked almost hollow now, as without someone to really focus her attention to, she instead zoned out towards the town in the far distance.

“A mechanism…” The apprentice finally spoke up, breaking up that nerve-wracking bout of silence with a similarly shaky voice. “... similar to the one you utilized in order to defeat the null?”

“Different.” I replied plainly. “But suffice it to say, we have had time and experience with the tempering and taming of many a destructive force, most of which we harness for benign purposes… though some of which we’ve commandeered just for destruction alone.”

“But what need would a newrealm have to create such novel artifices-”

“What need would the Nexus have of creating the null?” I shot back almost immediately, with a hint of a sneer in my voice. “What need would the Nexus have of creating a bathroom that molds itself to a user? Or a spear which can kill fifty people at once? Same logic applies to us. We have our own unique problems to solve, and our own issues to address. We have an inherent drive to innovate, with or without, mana.”

The apprentice once again grew silent, her shaky breaths becoming steadier and steadier still. She sat like that for a full minute, refusing to respond until she regained some semblance of her own composure. “If we were having this conversation in any other context or setting, I would have had you penalized for not only openly declaring such threats, but also daring to undermine the fundamental truths we hold as self-evident.” The apprentice began, her voice on the verge of cracking, as I wasn’t sure if it was fatigue or FSI that was getting to her first. “However, considering recent developments, I must at least consider this threat as a real and present danger that requires addressment.” The apprentice paused, as she craned her head towards my general direction. “I assume the responsibility of preventing this tragedy falls squarely on my shoulders? As I am to act as a liaison between yourself and Professor Mal’tory?”

“That’s what this whole meeting’s about, Apprentice.” I responded plainly. “There’s nothing more to it.”

The apprentice took a moment to turn back towards the town, taking several deep, steady breaths before continuing with a renewed look of determination. “Then I will do what needs to be done, and I will say what needs to be said. This is going to be much more complicated than the delivery of a simple memorandum, Emma Booker, I hope you understand that.”

I shrugged. “The past few days have taught me that my very existence tends to make everything more complicated than it should, so that’s nothing new. Though, you have my thanks for deciding to tackle this situation with the seriousness it deserves.”

“Gratitude is not necessary, Emma Booker. This is only a small price to repay for the life debt I now owe. Do not take my willingness to entertain the possibility of this danger, as my admission to a reality-altering narrative that you purport as truth.” The apprentice spoke solemnly, before shifting the direction of the conversation towards an unexpected tangent. “For the record, Emma, this entire situation wasn’t born out of a flagrant act of pettiness as you put it.” The apprentice quickly added.

“What? Listen, I’m sorry if that was a bit rude of me to say, but I really don’t know any other way to put it. Professor Mal’tory stole what was mine. I could’ve used a euphemism, something like an act of misappropriation of property or something, but I just wanted to call it what it is, Apprentice.”

“No, that’s not the intent of my point of clarification, Emma.” The apprentice responded promptly, visibly wincing as she moved to face my general direction, probably figuring out where I was based on where my voice was coming from. “This wasn’t an act of pettiness, nor was it an act of theft.” She stated, before shifting her gaze away for a brief moment, as if she was considering her next words very carefully. “Professor Mal’tory wished to reclaim what is rightfully the property of the Academy, and by extension, the property of the Crown.”

This sudden ‘revelation’ threw me off, as I narrowed my eyes at the apprentice despite her inability to see me or my face under the helmet. “What do you mean by that, Apprentice?” I shot back.

“We noted a discrepancy in that specific box, a sign which indicates that there exists a mana-based artifice within it. Now, that on its own is not grounds for the withholding of one’s property. It is instead the specifics and the peculiarities of what was inside, that prompted the seizure, as we detected a Minor Shard of Impart within it. This is the very same artifact we gift annually to all realms in order to maintain the uninterrupted web of status-communicatia, including your own, Emma. What’s more, we noted several discrepancies with its properties, discrepancies which suggest your kind have changed it, in ways completely unforeseen.”

Confusion hit me first, followed by a sudden chill that ran up my spine as I realized exactly what the apprentice could be talking about.

I turned off my speakers for a moment, as I quickly addressed the EVI. “EVI, we’re going to have some words after this.”

“Acknowledged, Cadet Booker.”

“Now I want you to bring up the schematics of the Exoreality Communications Suite, and narrow down what exactly the apprentice could be talking about. Can you do that for me?”

“Acknowledged, Cadet Booker.”

“The engineers in the ex-com department can’t have fucking done what I think they’ve fucking done.” I whispered under my own breath, before addressing the EVI proper. “We’ll talk about this when we’re back on solid ground. It’s time to wrap this whole thing up.”

With those terse few words out of the way, I turned my speakers back on to address the apprentice. “Whatever the case may be, the danger we face still stands.”

“Of course…” The apprentice nodded, as she shifted the conversation back on track. “I require one more point of clarification to ask of you, before I am able to fulfill my responsibilities in this task, Emma.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“You mentioned two particular parameters which when fulfilled, will activate this artifice’s destructive potential, one of them being time. Exactly how much time do we have left, Emma?”

“Exactly 31 hours, 29 minutes, and 27 seconds, Apprentice.” I quickly read off of the countdown timer permanently affixed to the upper right hand corner of my HUD.

The apprentice visibly flinched at that answer, as her gaze now sat squarely on the town, as if she was trying to focus on something else to rid herself of the stress that had just been added onto her plate of worries.

“I will request for an early discharge sometime tonight.” The apprentice announced with the first hints of anxiety finally creeping into her voice. “Though the Master-Healer doesn’t like granting such requests.” She reached her hand to clasp her forehead. “Nevertheless, I will attempt to gain an audience with Professor Mal’tory as soon as I possibly can.”

“And how will you notify me about where and when I can meet-”

“I will call for a gargoyle, or a messenger elf, or some other form of letter conveyance to deliver a letter of appointment to you. If you cannot be found, then the letter shall be delivered to your quarters.” The apprentice promptly interjected, answering my question before I could even finish asking it.

It was clear she was now on edge, as the time limit seemed to have incentivized her to hit the ground running with this newfound quest.

“Thank you.” I responded simply, prompting the apprentice to begin shuffling back to her feet.

“If that is all, then I suggest you leave post-haste, Emma. This entire illicit meeting has gone on for long enough as is. Provided of course, you have nothing else to ask of me?”

“No, that’ll be it, thank you Apprentice.” I answered, before adding sheepishly. “I hope you get well soon.”

The apprentice merely nodded once in reply, as I took that as my cue to leave.

With another deep breath, I turned to face the outcropping immediately underneath me, as it was time to rappel downwards.

“Target locked. Requesting operator status: Confirm Readiness.”

“Operator ready, fire right grapple.”

“Firing [R] Grapple in 3, 2, 1…”

THUOOMP!