Stepping back from the corpse, Sam wiped the muzzle of his handgun off on the mage’s uniform. He turned to Kara, who was unsteadily making her way towards him, a hand pressed to a burn on her abdomen.

Sam holstered the pistol and jumped to assist the dwarf, looping an arm awkwardly under her shoulder. Given that she was just over nipple-high on him, it wasn’t an easy maneuver. He shot Ellie another mental image of his location as he hauled the incredibly dense Dwarven maiden to a charred stump nearby, pressing a hand to it briefly to confirm it wouldn’t burn her.

It was warm to the touch, but not hot, so he rested her down on it.

“You good?” he asked, looking her in the eyes, which currently seemed to be having trouble focusing on him.

“Mmmm,” she replied, smacking her lips once, then twice. “Water.”

Sam chuckled, but internally worried about her having a bad head injury. She was acting drunk, but alive.

‘Mana depletion,’ said Ellie in his head. ‘She’ll be fine in a couple hours. I’ve got the squad moving to you now, I think Henfri and the Sergeant took care of our sniper problem.’

‘Mana depletion?’ Sam asked, having no idea how magic worked beyond the ability to launch fireballs in the vicinity of enemy soldiers.

‘Mana powers magic like a battery. Right now, I’d imagine she’s feeling like…’ Sam suddenly felt a force akin to an Olympic high-diver dropping directly through his thoughts and memories, disappearing into the depths of his psyche for a second before coming back. ‘Like you did at the end of Ranger School.’

Ellie seemed to dredge a visceral memory of Sam stumbling through the final days of earning his tab, woefully tired, hungry, and thirsty, mostly kept moving by a desire to not stop, lest he be unable to get back up.

‘Fuck, okay,’ he thought at Ellie,. ‘What do I need to do to get her on her feet?’

‘Give her water, and while she’s drinking, get some rations opened for her,’ Ellie elucidated for him. ‘Make sure she eats properly, by that time we should be at your position.’

Nodding, Sam reached over Kara, pulling her canteen from her belt. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a rib-crushing hug. Sam patted her on the back several times as she held his waist, attempting to make the woman stop. He honestly couldn’t breathe, the diminutive woman’s arms like dual constricting pythons.

“You didn’t leave,” she murmured into his chest.

“Kara,” he groaned, using his last bits of oxygen. “Can’t… Breathe.”

“OooOoooooooOoooo,” she said deliriously, thankfully releasing him before he sucked in a gasping breath. “Sorry! Glad you’re alive.”

“Me, uh, me too," he said, passing her the canteen. “Drink this.”

She accepted the opened bottle, taking large gulps of water between deep breaths. Sam took this opportunity to pull free a small tin from the bag at his side, which contained potatoes, dried meat, and vegetables. He popped the top, pulling a spork-like implement from the bag as well, setting it next to Kara on the stump.

While she recuperated from the duel, he turned to the corpse of the enemy Mage, intent on searching his body for any intel. He rifled through his uniform, pulling free a packet of identity documents, an envelope, a set of five opalescent crystals, and a cigar.

Sam grinned, running the cigar under his nose briefly before returning it to the small case it sat in. Moving to the Mage’s pants pockets, he found a vacuum-sealed bag of jerky and grinned widely. Nothing more was present in the Mage’s pockets, and Sam turned to the envelope, opening it and extricating a small document from inside.

Glancing through it once, he found it was orders for continual reconnaissance and guerrilla operations in the valley until a main body of soldiers could reinforce and push. Eyes widening, he quickly inserted the letter into his jacket pocket, vowing to read it later.

He stood up, walked over to where his rifle had been batted away, and picked it up. The wooden stock of the rifle had a small crack where the mage had struck on the fore end, but was otherwise fine. He unclipped the two-and-a-half foot long bayonet from the muzzle, sliding it into its sheath on the side of his body, and slung the rifle over his shoulder.

“That was stupid,” stated Kara abruptly from behind him.

“What was?” He asked, turning in place. She was leaned against a tree, looking like she’d just ran a marathon instead of drunk now.

“I told you to leave,” she said, cracking her neck one way, then the other. “You didn’t. You could’ve gotten us both killed, instead of just me.”

“One is none, two is one,” shrugged Sam, pulling the empty magazine from his belt along with a stripper clip of bullets, “I’m not just gonna let you sacrifice yourself because you have some ‘blaze-of-glory’ kick.”

“Sam, the whole reason officers are assigned Mages is to advise you on magical combat,” she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I can’t do that if you don’t listen to my advice.”

“I did listen,” griped Sam, holding a palm skyward. “You made it clear that this mage was a real and tangible threat, so I flanked, and looked for an opening. You’re confusing advice with orders.”

She leaned down to the dead Mage instead of responding and ripped a small crystal necklace off the man, analyzing the bright red stone for several seconds. Turning back to him, she threw the crystal at his feet.

“Sam, he was just a Journeyman Fire-mage!” she shouted, stomping a foot angrily. “Literally the most common rank and specialty outside of students!”

Sam paused, eying the necklace and looking back to Kara, who almost looked on the edge of tears.

“What happens if we face a Magus, or Gods forbid, a master?” She asked with a bitter snarl. “What then, huh?”

“Point the biggest gun we have at him, fire, repeat.” Sam shrugged, attempting to add some levity to the conversation. He honestly had no idea how to face a higher tier Mage like Kara was insinuating.

“This isn’t a joke,” she replied somberly. “He wasn’t even trying, really, at least not until the end. And he still beat me like a parent scolding a child.”

“Why’s he dead, and you’re alive, then?” Sam asked, opting for a direct route. He was decidedly unhappy with the self-doubt Kara was espousing.

“Because you caught him off-guard,” she replied sullenly. “One in a million chance of that happening again.”

“What do you need to get more powerful, then?” Sam asked.

“I- what?” she replied, looking very confused, “I mean, I…”

“What do I need to get you to fucking super-charge the shit outta you?” He stated, taking a step towards her, “Because if this is the shit we’re gonna face on the front, I want you to be a walking nuclear holocaust. Is there some type of big-ass magical battery? A damned power-crystal? Do I have to give you dragon souls or some shit?”

“I, no,” she stuttered, her eyes wide, “Why would I need a dragon’s soul? I’m not a necromancer, Sam. And what in the caves is a ‘new-clear’?”

“So there’s nothing I can do, then?”

“Well, there are crystals,” she said, pointing to the necklace on the ground, “Those don’t increase my power, though, they just… refill the glass, so to speak.”

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you as many of those as I can, but how do you get stronger?” Sam asked, deciding to ‘tactically acquire’ as many crystals as possible from command.

“Practice,” shrugged Kara, seeming to deflate under his questions, “Meditation, training with better Mages. That’s really about it. It takes a while to be a competent Mage, Sam.”

“Okay, when we get to camp, we’re setting up a range for you to throw fireballs into all day, and you’ll get better?”

“That’s… Actually not a terrible idea,” she shrugged. “Much like the practice range at the DAM.”

“Lieutenant?” The voice of Sergeant Thom called through the trees. “You alive, sir?”

“Right here, Sergeant!” Sam responded, nodding to Kara. “Just had to kill a Mage!”

Sam heard loud rustling from behind himself and turned just in time to see Corporal Henfri burst into the clearing, her unnervingly sharp-looking fangs bared as she stopped sprinting to survey the charred surroundings. Now that he noticed it, wherever fire had touched was burned to a crisp, but it didn't spread. He turned back to Kara with a raised brow, who looked somewhat blearily at him.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Why didn’t the fire spread?” Sam asked, pointing at the many charred trees and logs.

“We control any fire we cause,” Kara shrugged, throwing a match sized tuft of fire onto some dried grass nearby. The fire caught, igniting a small patch of the mountain flora before she flicked her wrist and it went out without any warning, smoke, or embers. “Be pretty useless if every time a fire mage fought, there was a forest fire.”

“So, if I gave you enough time to start a massive fire, you could control a firestorm?” Sam inquired, a sadistic idea forming in his head for boxing the enemy in during an assault.

“In theory, yes,” the Warrant Officer nodded. “But, the bigger the fire is, the more control and Mana is required to guide, and by extension, snuff it out. After a point, it becomes more like directing its path, as opposed to actually being in control.”

“Well, shit,” he stated, his ideas rapidly changing to covering a fighting retreat.

“Sam,” said Henfri from behind him, sucking in gulps of air, “I saw the explosions, I was worried.”

“You kill the sniper?” Sam asked, looking for the Sergeant. “And where’s Sergeant Thom?”

“I split the bitch from her skull to her clit,” proudly admitted the big lizard with an ear-splitting grin. “And he’s somewhere behind me, I heard your voice and had to make sure you were alright.”

“So you just left your teammate, alone, in a locale with high enemy presence?” Sam asked, raising a brow.

“The Sergeant is a competent fighter, and less than a hundred meters away from us,” She groaned, sounding almost like a child being scolded by a parent.

“Then why are you sucking in air like that, you look like you just ran a marathon,” Sam teased the big woman with a smile. “Are you that out of shape, Corporal?”

“I am not built for speed, sir,” she grumbled, leaning her rifle’s stock on the ground like a cane. “My kind is built for distance, and weight.

“So I should strap a saddle to your back and ride you into battle, then?” Sam asked, finding that he very much enjoyed teasing the woman, when her scales abruptly shifted from near-camouflage to the telltale black and red. As it turns out, she enjoyed teasing him too.

“Are you asking to mount your subordinate, Lieutenant?” She asked with a malicious twinkle in her eyes.

“For fucks sake, Henfri, just go escort the Sergeant here, please?”

“Very well, sir,” She groaned with a wink, and then began to trundle back in the direction she’d come from.

As soon as Henfri cleared the treeline, Sam heard Kara snicker from her seat on the charred stump.

“Shut the fu-“ he began.

“But she’s so cute!” Teased Kara.

“Don’t even go-“

“She’s like a little schoolgirl with a crush on the boy a grade ahead of her!”

“Kara, please, for the love of Senire, just shut the fuck up. I already have to deal with a mischievous dark-elf,” Sam said, realizing he never actually asked what species Ellie was. So far, he’d just gone with the flow, and accepted what came to him. “Or whatever the fuck Ellie is, I don’t need a seven-foot tall horndog NCO who blushes every time she speaks to me.”

“Is that what the scale thing is?” Said Kara with a wide, teasing grin.

“That’s what Ellie told me it was,” shrugged Sam, desperately hoping for a change in subject.

“That's exactly what it is,” came Ellie’s voice from the other direction, just now appearing from the foliage with a fireteam behind her. Sam rolled his eyes, intent on not acknowledging her antics.

“How’d we do?” he asked grimly.

“Two dead, one wounded,” Ellie replied nonchalantly. “Both Privates, they tried to push from cover and attack the sniper directly.”

“Fuck, okay,” growled Sam. “Let’s just get to the Forward Operating Base, this day’s been long enough as it is.”

* * *

“Identify yourselves!” called a Dwarf with a large, belt fed machine gun atop the front of the fortification.

“Lieutenant Volkjel, here to take command of Third Platoon, along with reinforcements!” Sam called back to the fortifications.

Sandbag walls piled eight feet high surrounded the small hilltop fort, ragged-looking soldiers occasionally peeking over them at irregular intervals. The near hundred-meter circular base sat atop a high plateau, overlooking the valley below, with breathtaking views of the lands of Darabad visible as the mountains gave way to great, sea-like plains of grass and forest land.

“Approach!” called a different voice, gruff and weary.

Sam gestured for Ellie and Kara to follow him, but the rest of the squad to remain back. The trees along the steep rise in the ground they’d walked up were all cut down, the ground scorched, and bullet casings littered any walkable path. Clearly this base had been hit quite a few times.

Sam knew any soldier worth their salt would be on a hair trigger in a place like this. The threat of infiltration, even of drawing the men of the base out, particularly the NCO’s so they could be victim to sniper fire, was a real possibility.

“Stop there!” Called the voice from around the small palisade gate, “Leave your orders and identification on the ground, step back thirty feet!”

Doing as instructed, Sam pulled the ID and envelope containing his orders from his breast pocket, leaning down to place them on the ground, and setting a fist-sized rock atop them so they wouldn’t be caught by a stray breeze. He stepped back, and was quickly followed by Kara and Ellie, who had placed their own IDs on the ground.

The gates opened, and a very nervous young man stepped forward pensively. His long, pointed ears twitched once as he stared at the three like a rat peering at a coiled viper. Then he burst forward with nearly superhuman speed, covering the thirty-meter distance to the paperwork in just over a second, scooped up each with celerity, and then sped back towards the gate, which closed loudly behind him.

“Speedy little fucker,” he remarked softly to his bookends. “Should give him an SMG and let him get nice and close to the enemy.”

Kara subtly kicked his boot with her own in response to his joke.

‘Tough crowd,’ he thought, wincing slightly.

“Lieutenant Volkjel,” the voice called again. “Where are you from?”

“Etalumarrun!” he called back, just barely recalling the information on the ID.

“Warrant Officer Coalbelt, how tall are you?”

“Five feet even!” She called back after a moment’s hesitation.

“Corporal Elanor Vezir, where was your previous station?” he asked again.

“Its Staff Sergeant, thank you very much!” Ellie responded, sounding slightly indignant. “I was with Bravo Company, Third Battalion, Seventy-Third Support Regiment!”

Several seconds of silence bared down upon them like a heavy blanket as they looked to each other in concern, obviously worried about whether or not they’d be shot in short order. The gate clacked open, an older elf in a stained uniform waving them in hurriedly.

“Get the fuck in here, LT!” he called.

“Squad, move out!” Ordered Sam, gesturing to the twelve remaining soldiers in his small unit and pointing at the gate. Their dead were carried on stretchers at the front of the group as the small press of bodies filed through the two-man-wide improvised gate.

Sam exhaled audibly as he gazed around the interior of the camp. Several ramshackle wood, stone, and sandbag buildings had been constructed, along with tents placed sporadically inside the walls. Small ladders were leaned periodically along the walls of the fortifications, allowing soldiers to peer and presumably fire over the fortifications at an assaulting enemy force from any direction.

A motley assortment of ragged, unshaven soldiers of several different races stood in an impromptu formation by the gate, standing at what appeared to be a fuckless state of attention. Sam looked at his new home and was about to start asking questions when he saw what was causing the soft, wafting miasma that greeted them when he entered.

In the corner, covered by bloody sheets on the muddy dirt, was two rows of nine dead soldiers. Looking to his formed soldiers, he saw many exhibiting the telltale signs of exhaustion, post-traumatic stress, and deep pain at the loss of their fellows-in-arms.

He looked at the squad that came with him, fresh-faced and looking for all the world like they were ready to go.

The older man who had ushered themselves inside walked up to Sam, saluting crisply.

“I’m First Sergeant Eddec Stahlbrecher, Lieutenant,” he stated.

“Sam,” Sam replied, extending a hand to shake after quickly saluting the older soldier.

“You took casualties on the way in Lieu- er, Sam?” Stahlbrecher asked.

“We got ambushed by a sniper, then I got to throw down with a Journeyman Fire-Mage,” Sam groused. “Couple of the privates wanted to play hero instead of suppressing from cover, got themselves killed.”

“A Mage?” asked the first Sergeant, raising a brow.

“Yep,” replied Sam, pulling the Mages ID and orders from his pocket.“Got his orders too, might be an intel gold mine.”

“Impressive work, sir.” Replied the First Sergeant.

“Thanks,” he replied, inserting the documents into his pocket, “Listen, our boys look a little ragged. Put me and this squad on guard duty for a bit, let them get chow and some R and R. If what I skimmed from this is right, everything that’s happened so far is just to soften us up for the main force. I need these men ready to go.”

Sam shot a glance over to the sheeted corpses, now with two fresh additions, and his heart sank.

“Well, as ready as they can be, considering.” He finished, looking back to the grizzled NCO.

“Aye, sir,” the man nodded. “Thank you.”

‘Sam,’ said Ellie in his head. ‘We need to talk.’

‘Shit,’

‘I heard that,’ she teased.