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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (129/?) Revised Version 1
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 22:15:50 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note: Hey everyone! There’s been quite a lot of edits in this one so I do suggest you guys give this another read through! :D The most notable edit that I need to make note of is when Emma tells the EVI to turn off its active assist systems! Thereby making sure that this sparring match with Thalmin is as genuine to her capabilities as is possible despite the armor! In addition to that, I’ve also made some big edits to the beginning and ending of the chapter to improve its flow, and much of the same can be said for the other big edits throughout the chapter. As much of the story remains the same, just that things have been improved in terms of phrasing and with the typical issues of grammar and such being addressed! :D As always, all of the revised sections are highlighted with an underline to easily see what’s been revised! :D
Ilunor had remained silent following our spur-of-the-moment sightseeing trip to Acela.
In fact, all three didn’t have much to say at all until Thalmin finally broke the silence as we snapped back to reality.
“Emma… although I have described your people as a nation of scholars, it was always meant as a tentative hyperbole. Because while I can understand that such an abundance of information might be necessary for a certain social class of commoners — scholars, scribes, civil servants, and the like — I cannot see how said abundance would be useful for your average commoner.” He posited only to be answered, not by me, but by Thacea.
“It aligns with what Emma had claimed from the onset.” She began. “That there exist no gods or kings, but only the masses. And with that comes the responsibility and the burden of collective rule, facilitated by collective intelligence, which necessitates an abundance of accessible knowledge.” She turned towards me, as if knowing I was ready to tag team off of that statement.
“We all share and chip in, in carrying the burdens that come with civilization. Or more accurately, the responsibilities of maintaining civilization. We all benefit from it too, of course, and much of what you saw was either blatant benefits, or just utilitarian tools in making daily life a little bit easier.”
Thalmin blinked at that, gesturing at the ZNK-19. “That was somehow an attempt to make life easier?!”
“Well… it makes things more seamless. Especially as it pertains to stuff like travel, scheduling, and so on and so forth. Beyond that, there’s also the added benefit of having both the compendium of all human knowledge, current events, and the infosphere plus the extranet at your fingertips.”
I’d lost the prince right about at the last sentence, the man resorting to staring blankly whilst Thacea’s eagle eyes narrowed even further until they were only pinpricks.
“Erm, I shouldn’t get into it right now, but suffice it to say our incorporeal world also comprises a sort of… communications network. A perpetually active web of intangible streams of information communicated over our infrastructure, creating this sort of…”
“Webway.” Thacea offered.
“Yeah, something like that. Like a web composed of lines of communication, coalescing into this always-active hive of live data that anyone can access.”
“What purpose would having a webway for the masses serve—”
“A tool for politics, I’m assuming.” Thacea interjected once more, swerving right into the lupinor prince’s winding and confusing train of thought. “If Emma’s world is what she claims it to be, then the only means by which the masses can rule themselves without a single or consolidated group of individuals becoming disproportionately powerful, is by a sort of… democratization of not just the legal mechanism of politics, but its dissemination within socio-cultural lines as well.”
I blinked rapidly at that, my mouth hanging slightly agape at the princess’ rationalizations.
“That’s a huge part of it, actually.” I nodded rapidly. “‘Free flow of information is the only safeguard against tyranny.’ High Commissioner Pravin Lal.” I promptly quoted. “Our modern democratic institutions were molded and reformed with transparency for the masses in mind. Discourses in all levels of the legislature are open to public scrutiny, and even those hidden for security concerns, have statutes on just how long they’re able to be hidden away. Scrutiny by the masses is made possible by our hyperconnected world, so much so that it’s often said that there are three auditing institutions a politician has to be wary of. The first being the Judicial Review Council, the second being the Office of the First Speaker, and the third being the High Court of Public Review — the prying eyes of a billion participants active in the infosphere at any given point in time.”
Silence once more descended on the trio, with Thacea’s eyes closing down tightly, as if in deep thought following that.
Thalmin, meanwhile, had barely shifted in his expression, remaining in that sort of flabbergasted look of disbelief as if still processing it all.
It would be Ilunor, however, who eventually broke the silence with a simple, understandable rebuttal.
“Madness.” He scolded. “A system doomed for failure, either through collapse or indecision.”
“There were times that happened, I admit.” I acknowledged. “The First Intrasolar War, to be precise, but that’s why reforms happened and… well, that’s a story for another day.” I laughed it off awkwardly before Thacea finally opened her eyes, staring at me with a sort of wariness I’d become accustomed to by now.
“These are solutions to a problem that didn’t need to exist, earthrealmer.” Ilunor surmised. “Such complications arise as a result of a resistance against what should be self-evident — the natural inclination for chaos without strong rulers. This is why royalty, nobility, and the aristocracy are needed. This is why even with your manaless dispositions, a tyrant masquerading as a monarch might simply be more reasonable than the unnatural state you force yourselves into. You waste so much in propping up something which should not exist, whilst we—”
“Can’t even provide a decent quality of life for your people.” I countered. “That’s the underlying difference between our two mindsets, Ilunor. We measure our success based on how best we can elevate the quality of lives of the masses; how well we treat the most vulnerable to the average joe. Meanwhile, you measure success exclusively by the exploits of nobles, tallying your achievements solely by their accumulation of power, both magical and otherwise.”
We were just about ready to butt heads yet again, if not for Thacea promptly stepping in between us, placing both hands to separate our growing feud.
“Emma.” She began sternly. “Isn’t there more you wish for us to aid you with, in regards to your… artifice’s machinations?”
“Oh, yeah, I was hoping to get some readings on some basic spells and magic. As well as like, a basic rundown of the types of mana just to calibrate the wand and—”
[Notice: General equipment calibration in process… User interface prototype in queue… Warning: Additional data aggregation will result in a decrease of processing efficiency and reserve processing capacity. Suggestion: Delay additional testing until further notice.]
“... maybe that can wait.” I quickly added. “We’re burning daylight, and I think I wanna get some sparring done with Thalmin before we get back into the thick of things with the wand.” I offered, garnering a nod from the princess and a disgruntled shrug from Ilunor.
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. En Route to the Hall of Champions. Local Time: 1535 Hours.
Emma
I took the EVI’s pleas for leniency as an opportunity to finally take on Thalmin’s offer, as we both left for the Hall of Champions, leaving a visibly upset Ilunor to mope at the heels of an increasingly contemplative Thacea.
While excited by both prospects, the thought of filling out additional paperwork in the form of annexes, addenda, and appendices when it came to the more technical projects sent shivers down my spine.
Though ironically, perhaps one of the largest sections to be filled in this week’s action report wasn’t about the WAID, but something that had yet to transpire — the GUN’s first true joint military exercise with a truly foreign polity.
A paradigm ‘first’ in all but pomp and circumstance.
A paradox was quickly forming. Wherein a lot was happening in my mind without much, if anything, truly precipitating into words, let alone actions.
Words and ideas passed me by as quickly as new thoughts came in to replace them, creating this constant buffering where I had too much to say, without anything being said at all.
Excitement, anticipation, and giddiness all clouded my mind, as I struggled to really approach what was quickly coming to be.
The sheer number of implications that this simple sparring match carried with it would’ve required a hundred committees to parse… before inevitably collapsing, re-forming, and then collapsing again all in the span of months.
And here I was, tackling it alone.
Yet at the same time, I couldn’t get past the understanding of what this truly was — a friendly matchup and nothing more.
This wasn’t something grand, epic, or truly reality-defining.
Instead, it felt like a natural evolution. Another step in the path towards forging stronger bonds between two comrades in arms.
It was probably this functional disconnect between what was technically happening, versus what was actually happening that was messing with me.
And at the end of the day… I was probably just overthinking things again.
But I couldn’t help it, especially given how the soldier in me often butted heads with the diplomat I was also meant to embody.
This stray thought eventually gave rise to an opening talking point that was very much needed.
“So… how do you do it, Thalmin? How do you handle being so many things at once?”
“I’m sorry?” The prince responded, cocking his head as he did so.
“As in, how do you handle your disparate responsibilities? From what we’ve discussed, you are as deep into the military pipeline as you are a royal. How the heck do you balance state administration, international diplomacy, and your martial responsibilities?”
“Ah, so the pressures have finally gotten to you, haven’t they?” The lupinor chuckled, crossing his arms as he did so.
“It probably should’ve gotten me ages ago, but I guess the constant stressors have either started to wear off… or… my brain chemistry has probably adapted to being swamped in adrenaline 24/7. Either way, the effect remains the same. I kinda want to know how you manage to deal with it.”
The prince chuckled cockily at that response, crossing his arms in a show of personal pride. “Breeding, heritage, lineage, and blood, Cadet Emma Booker.” Thalmin spoke uncharacteristically, sporting a smarmy grin that eventually broke out into an uproarious laugh. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He managed out in between breaths. “But tell me, how was my Ilunor impression?”
The flurry of emotions that quickly followed was both confusing and cathartic, leaving me with little option but to catch the lupinor’s contagious laugh, letting out a series of cackles in the process.
“Pretty good, perhaps too good if you ask me.” I let out through a relieved sigh. “Honestly, if our deluxe kobold carried himself with just half your stoicism, then he’d probably be a lot more menacing than he is.”
“Well, consider me flattered, Emma.” The prince acknowledged with a dip of his head. “But in all seriousness, I will say that it’s quite impressive how well you’ve held your own, especially for a commoner. To be quite frank, the way you carry yourself and the decisions you’ve consistently made have pushed me so far as to have completely forgotten that aspect of your identity.” He offered, before promptly adding with a sheepish smile. “And I mean that as a compliment. I hold nothing but respect for your achievements as an individual, not in spite of or because of your supposed status.”
“Right.” I acknowledged with a nod, prompting the lupinor to quickly shift his tone.
“But to address your question, Emma? I’ll need to preface this by saying that I’m quite possibly the least conventional royal to ask for advice. Havenbrock and its royal family is, after all… quite unconventional, if you haven’t already noticed.”
“That does seem to be the general consensus, not that I agree it's warranted.” I replied diplomatically.
“Indeed. How I personally manage the handling of so many disparate responsibilities is simple — exposure. Exposure and experience are the keys to tempering the panic and nervousness that come with encountering unforeseen circumstances. This is the fundamental principle that both my father and uncle have raised me by, and the one I credit for my continued survival.” He paused as we reached one of the many twists and turns between the dorms and the stadium. “The life of a Havenbrockian royal isn’t about glitz, glamor, or stately decorum. It is moreso centered around the literal fight for survival, which in turn makes almost everything else seem superficial by comparison.”
Thalmin eventually capped that off with another snarky smile. “I told you this wouldn’t be the answer you were looking for.”
“No, no. That… honestly aligns pretty well with something my Aunt said a while back, honestly. Especially the whole perspective shift thing about having been in life-and-death situations, and seeing everything else after that point as being kinda… trivial, so to speak.”
This prompted Thalmin to raise a brow, just as we were finally about to leave the towers. “I take it your aunt is also a warrior in some capacity?”
“Yeah, she was. For a pretty long while too.” I answered frankly.
“Might I ask what sort of role she served?”
“She served in our version of…” I paused, trying my best to actually explain the whole mission statement of the Terrestrial and Space Expeditionary Corps to Thalmin. “...a form of elite rapid response strike, recon, and pathfinding group trained for any environment; from space, to any realms floating within it, to traditional surface operations.”
The lupinor paused, pondering this for a moment with wide eyes. “So… does your Aunt ride those firespears we witnessed earlier into combat?”
“Well… sort of. Like I said before, the ancient firespears I showed you are a thousand years behind me, so she’s—”
“So I was right.” Thalmin whispered under his breath, fist bumping the air in the process.
“I’m… sorry?”
“You showed that those firespears could supposedly be used to deploy people to the void and other realms. Internally, I had theorized that they could likewise be repurposed for the deployment of soldiers to any point within a realm. A sort of void legion, or perhaps even a void diver of sorts.”
I paused, blinking rapidly at the excitable lupinor who I could only smile nervously at.
“I mean… you aren’t too far off in your assumptions, Thalmin. Our firespears, even in that era, were also weaponized.” I admitted. “I just didn’t have time to include that in our presentation since explaining the void was much more of a priority.” I trailed off, garnering a narrowing gaze from the lupinor.
“Understandable. However, I would like a glimpse at such weapons in the future, if that is at all possible.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll… put that on the list of presentations when we get to it.” I offered nervously, prompting an equally suspicious nod before the lupinor moved onto another topic entirely.
“Forgive me if this is intrusive to ask, but considering your aunt’s service, am I correct to assume that you belong to a lineage of warriors and soldiers?” The lupinor questioned, raising a hand to rub the bottom of his snout as he did so.
“I mean, it’s somewhat of a tradition, one that members of my aunt’s side of the family tend to take on sporadically. But it isn’t enforced or anything if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I see.” Thalmin nodded, a glint of some deep thought behind those eyes. “You will have to tell me more about your aunt in the future, Emma, as well as her exploits as this… void diver of sorts. Provided, of course, that she’s seen active service.”
“Oh, she definitely has.” I chuckled cockily. “If anything, she’s quite literally the most well-decorated veteran in living memory. Considering she’s participated in practically every major engagement in a flashpoint conflict in one of our realms. The one and only conflict to have erupted in our otherwise three centuries of uninterrupted peace.”
Thalmin raised an excited brow at that, a fangy grin forming soon after. “I can start to see why your people chose you to be their candidate, Emma.”
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Liring’s Training Stadium. Local Time: 1557 Hours.
Emma
We arrived at the Hall to an audience of one.
Meeting a certain felinor who, after much convincing, approved us for a private booking of one of the smaller halls to the side of the main stadium.
However, her reluctance to approve us at first stemmed less from our intent to spar, but a more pertinent issue still fresh in her mind.
“And you are certain that you have fully healed, Cadet Emma—”
I addressed the professor’s concerns with a swift movement of my pinkie, bending it to within its natural limits, before reaching it out to her much to her surprise. “I pinkie promise it, professor.”
The bewildered professor paused for a moment, before simply going with the flow and completing the foreign gesture with a protracted pinkie claw.
“Is this the work of some miracle panacea, or a result of your natural regeneration abilities, Cadet Emma Booker?” She pointedly asked.
“A little bit of column A and a little bit of column B I suppose.” I answered coyly, causing the felinor to simply let out a sigh before donning a polite smile, one which was barely able to hide the burning curiosity behind those slitted pupils.
“Very well. I won’t take much more of your time Cadet Booker. Prince Havenbrock.” She turned to face Thalmin for a moment, dipping her head slightly in respect. “If you need me, I will be in the stadium’s offices.”
With that, the professor quite literally leaped away, disappearing into the rafters to the tune of a mana radiation warning and the whirring of the calibrating WAID.
At which point, I was reminded to quickly address the elephant in the room, before it became too large of a talking point during the spar.
“EVI?”
“Yes, Cadet Booker?”
“Training mode, on. Active Assists, off. Save for the bare minimum of actual threat mitigation emergency countermeasures, of course.”
“Acknowledged.”
If this was to be a proper training session, then I needed the EVI’s active assists deactivated. Otherwise, there really wouldn’t be a point to this.
Thalmin wasted no time in speed-walking us to the smaller training stadium, opening those two sliding dark oak doors to reveal what was, by all measures, a cross between one of those traditional dojos and a high school basketball court.
The vibes and general aesthetic definitely fit the former, what with the heavy use of wood for the floors, pillars, and rafters. However, the presence of bleachers, stands, and magical lighting equipment alongside the wrought iron scaffolding gave it an undeniably ‘modern’ aesthetic that was difficult to ignore.
The space certainly was more appropriate for a one-on-one session, though, as the size wasn’t anywhere near as overwhelming as the big open stadium it was connected to.
“I’d be remiss if I did not address a fundamental disconnect between our two peoples, Emma.” Thalmin began as he strode his way up and through one the bleachers, navigating us through to the center of the gymnasium. “The proverbial wyvern in the nursery, so to speak.” He continued as he moved closer towards me before deploying a privacy screen. “A tool — nay, a weapon — that grants commoners the ability to kill from a hundred paces.” The lupinor stopped, gesturing at the distance between us. “Bridging the martial gap, in a way that only mages and the gifted can. Without once making use of magic, neither inherent nor enchanted.” He finished his statement, raising his right hand and extending a single index finger whilst clenching the rest of his fist, as if in an attempt to mimic the shape of my pistol.
“The martial gap?” I parroted, unclasping my holster in the process.
“Aye, that which separates commoners from nobles, a fundamental crux rendering their attempts at harm completely null and void — distance.” The prince elaborated, taking the time to walk circles around me with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “Physical distance is what underpins the martial gap, a functional disadvantage spurred on by a noble’s inherent natural advantages.”
“Ranged attacks.” I offered bluntly.
“Precisely.” Thalmin acknowledged, before once more stretching out his arm. “A noble’s capabilities in war are only limited by their imagination. Whilst those in their service, be they chosen ones or men-at-arms, would be provided the training or enchanted weapons necessary for accomplishing much of the same, albeit to an admittedly lesser capacity.”
The prince paused, halting his walk as he did so. “Roads to power, both soft and hard, can be traced to magic and those that wield it. For those without, their fates are sealed — sidelined to irrelevance by virtue of their inefficacy.”
He let out a sigh, raising both arms out to his sides. “For even if a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand commoners were to march towards a castle’s walls… they would be burned, drowned, frozen, subsumed, or imploded before once setting their eyes on their intended adversary.”
“And even those gifted with enchanted weapons all rely on mages not only for their production but also for their fuel, upkeep, and maintenance.” I reasoned, crossing my arms as I did so.
“Precisely. Which is what I wished to address next — that the martial gap applies to matters beyond the functional disparity of distance, but is also a term applied to the inherent gap that naturally arises as a result of this status quo.”
I exhaled sharply at that. As despite Thalmin simply reinforcing what I’d already worked out, it just felt… jarring to hear it all laid out so blatantly, as a named principle at that.
“Your kind, despite lacking magic, have created a weapon capable of breaching that gap. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word.” Thalmin continued, his features stiffening if only for a moment, as it was clear something was currently spooling up behind those yellow eyes.
“Now tell me, exactly what did your training entail?” He transitioned abruptly, as if trying to steer away from a subject matter that was bound to crop up eventually.
“Well… my training wasn’t exactly what you’d call typical.” I began frankly. “For starters, I was run through an unconventional combo of Basic Combat Training and Advanced Individual Training tailored just for this mission, while also taking class hours for stuff typically reserved for Officer Candidate School. BCT typically takes six months, followed by anywhere from six months to a year for AIT, but—”
“I meant the actual contents of your training, Emma.” Thalmin interjected, letting out a frustrated sigh as he did so.
“Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, so, most of it was accelerated BCT. So stuff like physical training, small arms weapons instruction and drilling—”
“Small arms?” Thalmin quickly interrupted.
“As you might expect, we have a lot of weapons types that have spawned over the years.” I pulled out my gun for emphasis. “The sheer variety of weapons required an equally diverse classification system in order to categorize them as a result. With small arms eventually coming to encompass any individual-use firearm that does not require the use of partially powered or fully powered exoskeletons to function to their fullest capability.”
Thalmin blinked rapidly, before once more narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“You mentioned exoskeletons.” Thalmin inquired sharply. “A-are you implying your people are in some way… arachnous or insectoid—”
“Oh, nonono. By exoskeletons, I basically mean this—” I paused, gesturing at my armor for emphasis. “It’s a complex system of… well… machines, basically. Machines that clamp all around a user in order to bolster and boost their strength by the power of mechanical force!” I beamed. “As such, what I meant was that there are some weapons that work functionally as small arms, but are only ever usable for individuals wearing some form of exoskeleton-assist kits.”
Thalmin’s suspicions didn’t fully subside however, though he seemed to just run with it for the time being.
“And what happens if one uses one of these weapons without the aid of an… exoskeleton?”
“The recoil will dislocate or break your shoulder and/or wrist.” I replied bluntly, causing the prince to blink rapidly in response.
“As you can imagine, firing a traditional chem-kinetic weapon comes with the caveat of force being generated. So… the larger the explosion in the gun, the more kickback you’ll expect.” I shrugged.
“I see.” Thalmin responded slowly. “I… assume the next category up from ‘small arms’ to be ‘large’ arms, and perhaps ‘medium’ arms too, yes?”
“Erm…” I paused yet again, reaching for the back of my neck in preparation for the explanation to come. “The next ‘step up’ as it were, is actually light weapons.”
That answer prompted the lupinor to simply stare at me blankly, his mouth curling up in a fit of confusion.
“But we started with small arms—”
“The next step up following light weapons is heavy weapons, if that helps any.” I smiled awkwardly.
“Of course it is.” The prince acknowledged with a drained breath, gripping the bridge of his snout in the process. “I apologize for leading our conversation astray. I was not anticipating, nor at all ready, for another semantics lesson. To no fault of your own, of course.” The prince let out a polite sigh, before gesturing towards me with a single hand. “Let us return to our original line of discussion.”
“So, yeah, small arms training. I had plenty of that, along with light and heavy weapons training in accordance with my Advanced Power Armored Specialist, or APAS certification.” I inhaled deeply, steadying myself for a rapid-fire delivery of mil-spec jargon. “Then there was advanced equipment training because of the power armor, along with advanced electronic operation’s training as a baseline requisite, tactics and strategy training, battlefield drone and recon training, expedited forward operations training, and of course, there was also Close Quarters Combat, or CQC training.”
While the lupinor’s attentiveness waned with each piece of jargon, it was that latter category that prompted Thalmin to perk up and chime in.
“And this… close quarters combat, I assume it is a sort of martial art?”
“Various martial arts distilled into a condensed package.” I nodded. “It draws from many ancient and modern disciplines, but with a core focus on surviving unarmed.” I continued methodically. “The first lesson, if anything, is preventative — consisting of tactics on how not to lose your primary in the first place.”
“Your primary being your gun, correct?”
“Yup!” I nodded.
“Proceed.” The wolf urged.
“In addition to that first lesson, you got lessons on controlling your assailant during an all-out brawl; open hand strikes, knee strikes, anything and everything to get them off of you. Really, you’re not gunning to win a mixed martial arts match here. You’re more or less just trying to disengage ‘safely’ to the point where backup arrives or where you’re able to regain control of a weapon.”
The lupinor’s features morphed from one of stoic intent to one drowning in thoughtful contemplation, his eyes beckoning some internal turmoil rumbling away beneath the surface.
“This sounds less like a tutelage on dueling, and more like instructions for when you’re driven to the last resort.” He offered with disappointment.
“Precisely.” I nodded. “The idea is that if you’ve reached a point where you’re left unarmed and fighting, then something’s already gone terribly wrong.”
Thalmin acknowledged this with a series of slow nods, his hand gripping the bottom of his snout as he did so.
“And… melee weapons?”
“Oh, right, there’s this.” I acknowledged with a nod, and a quick draw of the Mark XIV multipurpose combat and utility knife. “Fourth generation composalite with a leading monomolecular diamond edge.”
Thalmin stared at the blade with a quirk of his brow, looking not too impressed by, well… everything about it.
However, that expression soon shifted to one of contemplative realization, returning to the very face he’d led this conversation with in the first place.
“So you really have abandoned the notion of melee weapons as a primary offensive tool.” He whispered under his breath, the implications of which prompted him to lock his gaze onto my pistol with increasing intensity.
“Yeah. No offense to you and your arts, of course, but swords and melee weapons have been obsolete in our realm for the better part of a millennium.” I acknowledged frankly. “It’s just… no longer an effective killing tool. At least, not when stacked up against the sorts of weapons I’ve shown you.” I quickly added. “And in conflicts, that’s kinda what counts, right?”
“Along with the capacity to maintain said weapons of war. Capability is meaningless without sustainability or scale.” Thalmin reasoned. “Though… if what you stated weeks ago was anything to go by…” He trailed off, allowing me to address that particular point.
“Sustainability, logistics, and scale are the hallmarks of what makes modern warfare, well… modern.” I answered plainly. “So everything I said in that conversation wasn’t posturing, but an abject fact.” I shivered just referencing that conversation, especially given its preceding context — the null fight — was still as fresh in my mind as the day I’d faced it down. “There’s enough guns in my realm to arm every human currently living a hundred times over, and that’s not to mention the ammunition…”
“But surely that’s accumulative—”
“It is! But it wouldn’t really take too much to churn them out either. We have the industrial capacity to probably flood the entire surface of a realm in guns if we wanted to.” I paused, before letting out an awkward chuckle, once more reaching the back of my head awkwardly in order to defuse the situation. “That’s… not a hyperbole. Practically speaking, we could do it. But just because we could doesn’t mean we will.”
Thalmin’s face reflected the same ghostly visage he’d shown on that day, as his features quickly darkened along with his tone of voice. “But you could.”
“Yeah, we could. But like I said, we probably won’t have a need to.” I attempted to calm the situation down some. “I mean, unless the Nexus really gives us a reason to… but I doubt that’ll ever happen.” I offered sarcastically.
To which Thalmin could only reply with a weary smile.
“So to confirm what you said previously, every soldier in your realm, every man-at-arms and void legionnaire, every sailor and flyer, all of them—”
“Go through some form of BCT, in which all of them are trained in the art of the gun, yeah.” I intercepted the man with a grin.
Though it was clear his expressions were far less receptive, and more so mortified at the implications that came with this confirmation of what I’d only alluded to before.
“So you really have crossed the martial gap, all without once casting a single spell.” He reasoned, before once more narrowing his eyes. “And if your Void Diver Aunt is of any indication, not only have you crossed the gap in weapons, but likewise in conveyances too.”
“Yeah… but that’s a whole other story, Thalmin.” I chuckled darkly. “Suffice it to say, engagement distances in modern warfare aren't measured in meters, but in kilometers and then some.”
That comment seemed to cause the man to shudder even moreso. “Snipers engage enemies kilometers out at a time, same for frontline drone operators, and I’m not even going to get into remote—”
“I see, Emma.” Thalmin interjected warily. “I see.” He sighed.
A moment of silence punctuated our little back and forth, before he finally elongated his blade, forming the longsword I’d seen only a few times before.
“So you have mastered the manaless art of breaching the martial gap, creating entirely novel forms of not just weaponry, but the arts and industries required to sustain and maintain it all.”
“Yup, that’s right.” I nodded proudly.
“Then I must ask… with what you currently have at your disposal, do you feel as if your tactics and strategies will be viable in the long term?”
“Yup! In fact, every piece of equipment I have with me was chosen just for that specific task. It’s the whole reason why they chose this specific model of armor to use as the base for my mission, despite it not being the most advanced or up-to-date. This logic extends to my gun, the ZNK-19, and every piece of tech I have with me. So the production of caseless ammo? Completely viable if not a non-issue whatsoever.”
“But that requires the use of your larger equipment, no? Your tent, your… manaless microfactoriums.”
“Indeed.” I nodded.
“Our quest will take us away from these comforts of manaless logistics, Emma. And while I understand that you may take as much ammunition with you as possible, there always exists a possibility that it may simply not be enough. What then?” The mercenary prince posited, extending both of his arms in the process. “Your skills with the blade may prove more necessary than you initially expected, Emma.”
I paused, taking into consideration the lupinor’s words, as all of it did ring true to one of the many contingencies the IAS had anticipated.
“You do have a point, Thalmin.” I acknowledged.
“You were trained in the martial arts as a last resort, while I was trained in it as a first.” A daring smile formed across the lupinor’s face, the longsword suddenly crackling to light with a momentary surge of lightning.
“Let us humor this hypothetical scenario then, and see how you fare, yes?”
Comments
Ignacy Olszta
Actually it would be the AKM, as the AK47 was the first in the series, with the AKM being a modernized version, basically being an upgrade in every right over the AK47. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AKM
Foxner
"Now THERE's a Helldiver. You remind me of a younger me -- fearless, invulnerable and 7 feet tall. You're finally ready for the realest deal of 'em all: The Galactic War. Liberty, Democracy, Justice. They're in your hands now." Oh... erm, Void-diver
PEBZ101
If you were to flood a few realms with guns I'm sure we can all guess which one it would be... The AK47.
