Chapter 02 – False Assumptions

        Major Loreen Schoen stood and saluted the general as he walked in the room.  “Sir!” she stated with a voice as straight as her back.

        The room was a bit small to serve as an office for someone of his rank, and the door opened directly to the outside without any place for a secretary.  But the room actually belonged to no one, which made it suitable to be commandeered for a day, as neither she nor the general had a permanent position at the training base.

        The room didn't have many furnishings.  The desk was technically a table, and sat with the door to its left and the window to its right.  There were a couple lamps, which were needed as the drapes were closed.  A few chairs lined the wall opposite of the table, one of which was pulled into the middle of the room.  A thin bookcase stood by the door, which didn't even have enough books on it for them all to stand up straight.  A thin sergeant also stood by the door, who, unlike the books, was indeed standing up straight.

        General Greenfield returned the salute and dryly stated “As you were, Major.”  There was a ring of silver hair across the nape of his neck, curling up to his ears and sideburns, but the rest of his hair was fully brown.  His face didn't look old, but just a bit weathered.  The demeanor of the man seemed listless, or perhaps simply bored.  He carried a large brown binder stuffed with papers under his arm.  He dropped it onto the table and it hit with a deep “whud!” sound.  He walked around the table and pulled up his chair while in the same motion as sitting down.  He opened the binder and quickly flipped through its pages.

        His lackadaisical demeanor put the Major at ease; it seemed to cast an air that the standard military protocol wasn't going to be strictly enforced; this was just a daily business routine to him.  With that in mind, Loreen decided she should be asking the questions on her mind.

        She sat down and scooted her chair a little closer to the stack of papers.  “So, sir, how exactly do we go about this?”

        General Greenfield kept his face toward the papers but looked over at her with one eye cocked.  “Have you never done this before?” he asked.

        “No sir, at least, not on this side of the table.”

        His attention turned back to the papers.  “Well you're going to be doing it a lot more.  If I'm not mistaken, you're the highest-ranking woman in the Imperial Army.  The top brass would want you to be the first face all of these women see if they have an issue with this.”

        “I see,” she said, nodding her head slightly.  “Then, what kind of attitude and demeanor should I present to these women?”

        “I would assume you should be open and soft with them, motherly I guess.  But you were a recruit once; how would you have wanted someone to appear to you?  As they say, 'be the leader you wish you had.'”  His head bobbed up toward the Sergeant.  “Bring the first one in, Sergeant.  And then wait outside.”

        Sergeant Baum nodded and complied.  A moment later one of the female recruits walked into the room.  She saluted with notable surprise as the door closed behind her, leaving her alone with the unfamiliar officers.  She looked like she had passed the threshold between teenager and young adult, but her face was still red with acne scars.

        “At ease,” the general stated without interest.  “Have a seat.”

        The recruit tepidly sat down.  The chair remained in the middle of the room.  Loreen frowned inside at how uncomfortable the recruit looked.  'Perhaps I should pull the chair closer; she looks like she's being interrogated.  Or would that make them feel more nervous, being so close to such high-ranking officers?'

        The general still didn't look up from his papers.  “Name?”

        The recruit held up her hand in a salute.  “Recruit Carina Riehl, sir!”

        Loreen proffered “You don't need to salute for that, Carina.”  'Wait, maybe I shouldn't be calling them by their first names; that sounds too casual.  But just 'Recruit' is too impersonal; I need her to relax.'

        General Greenfield flipped to the page for the recruit, and then looked up from his papers for the first time since he opened the binder.  His tone seemed simply matter-of-fact.  “Recruit Riehl, have any of the men here made any sexual advances toward you?”

        Riehl balked for a moment.  Her response sounded more like a question.  “No?”

        Greenfield's tone didn't change.  “Have any of the men made any sexual comments or gestures that you have felt were inappropriate?”

        Riehl's response was quicker, but the tone changed very little.  “No?”

        Greenfield continued.  “Have any of the men made any sexual comments or gestures that made you feel uncomfortable?”

        “No...”

        “Has Sergeant Baum made any sexual advances, comments, or gestures toward or about you?”

        “No...”

        “Has Sergeant Baum made any threats or demands that you remain silent about any activities he has done or claimed to do with you or any of the other recruits?”

        “No...  Did...  Did something happen?”

        The Major leaned forward and tried to speak with a comforting tone.  “No; Miss Riehl, this is a routine investigation.  You'll have these from time to time, especially while you are still a recruit.  Having women serve in the military is still a new thing, and part of the process we've decided on is that we have regular interviews to ensure that there is no form of sexual misconduct between the soldiers.  That goes double for this boot camp, since all the recruits are sleeping in the same barracks with only a folding screen to divide the two genders.”

        Major Schoen unfolded her hands and made a slight gesture with them.  “We want you to feel comfortable with coming to any officers if you feel someone is crossing the line.  We want you to feel comfortable reporting any actions to Sergeant Baum, or with coming to us or any higher-ranking officer if the Sergeant is the one saying or doing anything inappropriate.”  She motioned to Greenfield.  “That's why we have a general here today; he outranks everyone on this base, so if anyone has done something wrong, you can bring it to us.”

        General Greenfield spoke up; his tone seemed slightly more personal than it did earlier.  “This is especially true among new recruits.  We need to be able to weed out any soldiers who are having difficulty with these rules as soon as possible.  Even if someone's action may not seem to you like they should warrant any serious repercussions, we still need to know which recruits may need, shall we say, a firmer understanding of where to draw the line.”

        The recruit drew in a breath while her head nodded back slightly.  “I see...  No, sir, no one has been saying anything inappropriate.”

        The General's disposition returned to the same stern matter-of-fact demeanor it had before.  “Has anyone touched you in any manner or place that you felt was inappropriate?”

        The interviews continued with nothing of note occurring.  Major Schoen made sure to explain the nature of the interview before any questions were asked.  The General asked his questions without even the slightest deviation to a single word.  Major Schoen was quite certain that there was no requirement for exact words; she had never seen anyone read off of a script when she had been interviewed before.  She freely asked questions in whatever tone seemed appropriate, and the General never made any comments that this was out-of-place for her.  She felt it important to try to have a comforting tone, especially against the bored and monotonous tone from the General.

        The interviews went through quickly as there were only six women in this unit.  As the fifth one left, Greenfield flipped to the last page for this platoon.  With a low tone he mumbled “Hmm, Darkwood.  Why does that name sound familiar?”

        A moment later a small girl walked inside the room.  She had sandy-blonde hair, a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and couldn't have been more than eight years old.  If it were not that she were wearing a uniform Schoen would have asked what she was doing here.  Even with the uniform the question still seemed appropriate.

        The child recruit balked when she saw General Greenfield.  With a surprised tone she called out “Colonel Greenfield?”

        The general looked up.

        The child's eyes grew wide and she suddenly snapped to attention with a salute.  “G- General Greenfield?!”

        The general's mouth dropped slightly.  “...Amber?”

        The two stared at each other in silence for an uncomfortable moment.

        The major tried to get things back on track.  “...Have a seat, Recruit.  We just need to ask you a few questions.”

        Greenfield looked down at his papers and pretended to need to move some around for a moment.  “Yes, uhh...”  He looked back up at the recruit.  “So Amber, has anyone... said or done anything that has made you uncomfortable?”

        The recruit looked around for a moment without turning her face.  “Um, no.  It's, uh, boot camp though.”

        “Has anyone... touched you in a way that you didn't like?”

        She seemed slightly perplexed by the question.  “No, no one's done anything like that.”

        “Has your sergeant, Sergeant Baum, said or done anything... bad?  Anything that you felt was wrong?”

        The child shrugged.  “Not really, I mean, he's supposed to make life hard for us, that's part of the training.”

        Schoen didn't know how she could correct her.  Greenfield's concerned expression suggested he wasn't sure what to say either.

        “...Right.  Amber, have any of the men here said anything... inappropriate?”

        After a moment Darkwood's face lit up.  “Ohhh!  You mean sexually!”

        Greenfield kept his composure but his eyes looked defeated.  “Yes, we mean sexually.”

        “That's what these questions are about?”  The child placed a palm on the side of her forehead and leaned back and laughed.  “Oh jeez, no!  No, thank God, no.  No one has been making any sexual advances toward me.”  She dropped her hand and leaned forward a bit.  With a dirty expression on her face she continued.  “And if anyone did, I'd cut his balls off and then feed them to him.”

        When Greenfield didn't say anything, Major Schoen asked “How old are you, miss Darkwood?”

        The child replied, “I'll be nine when I'm finished with all my training.”

        After a moment of silence the General at last said “Amber, what are you doing here?”

        She replied, “Hm?  Well if you guys are checking for sexual misconduct I shouldn't be excluded; pedophiles are a real thing.”

        “No, I mean, why are you in the Army?  How are you in the Army?”

        The child paused a moment to collect her answer.  “I want to be useful,” she replied.  “I was gifted with magic ability, and this is my chance to put it to good use.  Serve our country; protect the fatherland.”

        Greenfield looked down; he put a hand on his head and began rubbing his temple.

        There was an awkward silence.  Finally Schoen began timidly speaking.  “If...  If anyone makes any sexual advances toward you, we want you to feel comfortable about reporting it to your CO.  And if your CO is the one responsible, you can always report that to us.”  She felt as if her words sounded discouraging somehow.

        Darkwood nodded.  “Will do.  ...Is there anything else, sir?”

        With a defeated sigh General Greenfield declared “No Amber; you're dismissed.”

* * *

        Sergeant Baum tried to hide his nervousness as he approached the office.  Why had the general summoned him immediately after interviewing the women in his unit for sexual misconduct?  If one of his men had done something wrong, wouldn't he just directly speak with that recruit?  But the General had called for him.

        He paused for a moment before he opened the door.  What had the women said about him?  He had treated them properly, did he not?  Was something he did misconstrued in some way?  He tried to think; he needed his defense ready before he stepped into the battlefield.  Did he touch someone in a wrong way, was that it?  Did he touch someone's butt when pushing them through an obstacle course?  He remembered that happening with men when he was in training.  When could that have happened with the new recruits?

        Finally Baum had to admit that it would look suspicious if he waited any longer.  He opened the door and stepped inside.  The general stood with his back to the door, facing the window.  With his eyes still adjusted to the outside and the window as the only light source, the general stood as a three-dimensional shadow.  Even the thick line of silver hair on the general's nape wasn't discernible.

        “You asked to see me, sir?” Sergeant Baum said with a salute.

        “Sit down,” the officer-shaped shadow declared.

        Baum swallowed his tepidity and quickly found his way to a chair.

        “I just finished my interviews with the women in your unit,” Greenfield said.

        “Yes sir,” Baum replied.

        General Greenfield turned around to face the sergeant.  His eyes had adjusted well enough to make out the distinct scowl that soured his superior's face.  The tone of his voice was equal to the expression on his face.  “Can you tell me why, there is an eight-year-old girl enlisted into your platoon?”

        “...This is about Darkwood?”

        “Yes of course this is about Darkwood!  Why else would I be speaking with you?”

        Baum stammered for a moment.  “Well I mean, you had just been interviewing the women for...”

        The general paused for a moment, and then pressed a palm to his face.  “Oh for the love of...”  He rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “Please tell me you don't have any reason to suspect that was the reason I called you in here.”

        “No sir,” Baum stated, briskly shaking his head.  “I know full well what lines I am not to cross.”

        “Good,” the general spat out, “then with that out of the way, let's address the real issue you are here for.  Darkwood.  I don't care how smart she is, I don't care how exceptional her magic ability is, she's an eight-year-old girl and we are NOT sending her to fight in a war.  Do you agree?”

        “Y-yes, sir!”

        The general sat down at the desk.  He flicked on the desk lamp and looked over the sergeant.  “Then can I count on your help to get her ejected from the Army?”

        Sergeant Baum paused for a moment as he weighed the statement.  “But...  Sir, why would you need my help?  You're a general; can't you just have her discharged?”

        Greenfield sighed.  “I can, but we need to go about this the right way.  She is smart, very smart in fact, and she has tremendous magical power.  I don't want that to go to waste; I want her in the Army.  But...  When she's eighteen perhaps, not when she's eight.”

        Greenfield pressed his hands together and began arching his fingers.  “If I have her discharged, that's going to put a stain on her record.  Worse, it would put a stain on her heart, her spirit.  I don't want her to leave this campus thinking that she has been treated unfairly.  I want...”  He began shaking his hands as if he were trying to grasp some invisible object.

        Baum finished the statement for him.  “...You want her to feel like the right thing is to wait until she's older.”

        “Exactly!  She needs to feel like it's her decision, so she can still be excited to serve later, when the time is right.”

        “I see what you are saying sir.  But how exactly are we going to do that?”

        “You're going to do that; you're her drill instructor.  It's time to take the kid gloves off and drill those recruits to their breaking point.  Let's put her in some situations where a child simply can't succeed; something that she can see as something she could achieve once she's older.  I'll give you all the approval you'd need; we'll tout this as simply a change to the training regimen.  This war is turning out so differently than anyone expected, everyone in the central office is talking about making changes anyway.  Whatever we decide to do will get approved without a second thought.”

        Baum nodded.  “Alright, that makes sense.”

        “How the hell is she keeping up with the physical regimen anyway?”

        “She pushes herself really hard, sir.  She's at her limit with every activity.  Honestly, it's... it's hard to reprimand her for falling short; she has an enthusiasm and determination that I wish the other soldiers could match.  I...  Well, I can't help but let her performance slide a little when I see her exert herself to her very limits.”

        “Well that's going to stop right now.  Remind her that her comrades' lives are depending on her, and if she can't keep up they are as good as dead.”

        “Should I take away her magic orb as well?”

        “I beg your pardon?”

        “Well, I've noticed lately that she's started using magic to keep pace on our marches.  I can see her eyes glowing.  In fact since she's started doing that she hasn't failed to keep up with everyone.  If I take away her orb, she won't be able to use magic for that anymore.”

        “Hmm...” the general leaned forward and rubbed his chin.  “No, I don't think that will work.  We can't let her think we are targeting her specifically, so if we did that we'd have to take the orbs away from all the mages.  And the whole point of having them start mage training before the basic training is so that they can become more accustomed to using magic before they start the flight training.  They're supposed to be practicing their magic during basic training.”

        He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.  “Besides, she'd realize she's being singled out if we took away her magic after she found how to use it to keep up.”  He thought for a moment.  “What kind of spell is she using anyway, that can enhance her physical performance?”

        Baum shrugged.  “I don't know sir; my power level isn't even a ten.  I never studied magic.”

        “Who's her magic instructor?”

        “Captain Mangold, I think.  I'll have to double-check.”

        “Talk to him when you have a moment; we'll want to identify what spells she's using so we can work around them.  In the meantime, we just need to find some training exercises that a child would never pass, mage or not.  What's something that children are bad at?”

        Sergeant Baum shrugged.  “Patience?  Sitting still in church?”

        General Greenfield's eyes narrowed.  “Hmmm...”

* * *

        Amber hustled along the dirt path in her full battle gear.  The fields on the outside edges of the base had long ago lost their luster; it would have been nice to have a change of scenery for their next training hike, but such comforts were far from an option here.

        Kifeda was marching alongside her; his eyes suddenly piqued in curiosity when he looked at her.  “Your eyes, dey glow,” he stated with his thick Hurian accent.  “You use de magik?”

        Amber nodded.  “Makes the pack lighter,” she said.  “I can go longer this way.”

        Kifeda nodded back.  “I am jealous.  Is must be nice.  Pack is heavy.”  He wiped some sweat from his dark skin as if to punctuate the point.  He smiled warmly at the girl, and Amber returned the expression.

        Suddenly the air was pierced by the sound of a gunshot.  Amber quickly looked over to see one of the drill instructors from another battalion was standing several dozen yards away, firing a rifle into the air above her unit.

        Sergeant Baum yelled out to the crew, “Everyone get down, now!  Hit the dirt!  Lay flat!”

        Everyone quickly obeyed.  The other instructor fired a few more rounds.

        Sergeant Baum barked out more orders as he paced his way around the prostrate soldiers.  “You are taking fire from an unknown position!  You must remain absolutely still!  If there is even the slightest movement, the enemy will know where to shoot!  If you move in any way you are DEAD!”

        'Eh, no big deal, I've been dead before.'  A slight smile crept across Amber's face.

        The sergeant slowly paced around the troops, watching them very carefully.  It was after about fifteen minutes when the first soldier made the mistake of trying to scratch his face.  “MOVEMENT!” Baum bellowed, pointing at the recruit.  “Ramberg, you are DEAD!”  He ran over and aggressively lifted Ramberg by his collar.  “You will sweat until the rest of your squad is safe!  Report to Sergeant Erhard for PT!  Double time!”

        Baum shoved the soldier in the direction of the compound.  Ramberg softly uttered a mild curse as he hustled along the way.

        Amber wasn't fazed by the experience, she recognized the severity of what they were doing.  'I remember hearing about this happening to soldiers in Vietnam.  Their lives were actually at risk, and they had to remain still until nightfall before they could move.  This kind of thing happens in a real war.'  With that in mind she had already disconnected her mind from reality, preparing herself for the long haul.

        She hadn't landed in a very comfortable position.  The sandy gravel from the trail was pressing into her cheek.  Her belly was pressed against her rifle.  And over time, her joints would beg to move again, no matter what position her limbs had landed in.  Slowly more and more of the exact contour of the rough ground beneath her became more recognized and uncomfortable.

        Her body hurt in random places, but she had disconnected her mind from her physical state.  As she felt itches pricking her back, she instead grew curious, wondering how long they would last before they faded away.  She felt a bug crawl around on her neck, but it wasn't an irritant, it was just a distracting story to focus on.  Where was he going to go next?  What was he looking for?

        Sergeant Baum's footsteps would occasionally be heard walking around her vicinity.  'Do all you want to me.  In the end, there's nothing you can do that is anything more than ordinary pain.'

        Eighty minutes into the exercise, Amber heard some footsteps behind her that sounded a little heavier than before.  Somewhere in the distance she could see the shape of Sergeant Baum standing over the troops, so it had to be someone else.  She saw Kifeda's eyes dart around to get a good view of the person Amber could not see.  And then Kifeda's eyes grew wide in surprise.  His reaction seemed a little delayed; it must not have been a person he recognized, but something else he had seen.  Perhaps it was the rank marked on his uniform?  Who knows; asking isn't worth dying over.

        The man standing behind Amber dug his foot into the dirt.  Then with a swift motion he dragged it across the ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust.

        It brought back a memory from Amber's first childhood, when she was Darren.

        He remembered being a small boy, talking with his friend Elliot about a movie they had both seen.  What movie was it?  Or was it a TV show?  He couldn't even remember that anymore.  But there was a scene where a kid was hiding from some bad guy, and the bad guy had incidentally kicked up a cloud of dust.  The kid covered his face and tried desperately to not sneeze; a sneeze would reveal where he was hiding.

        “Do you think you could really hold back a sneeze if you were hiding like that?” Elliot had asked.

        'Ah Elliot, you were always the scientist.'

        How long had they spent trying to throw dust in each other's faces, trying to make each other sneeze so they could try to hold one back?  It's almost hard to believe that two kids thought they were having fun doing that.  And of course, he had to face a very upset mother when he came home pelted with dirt.

        But what really stood out in Darren's memory was when he and Elliot were young adults.

        “Hey Darren, you remember that time when we were kids, and we kept throwing dirt in each other's faces, trying to make each other sneeze?”

        “Oh jeez,” Darren said with a laugh.  “Man, I thought for sure that was going to be a real thing, and one day I would get caught by a serial killer if I didn't learn how to keep myself from sneezing.”

        With a broad smile Elliot continued, “I don't know if I actually thought that would happen, I just wanted to know if it was possible.  And I was sure that you could avoid sneezing if you just breathed through your mouth instead.”

        “That's right, I remember now!  We just wound up coughing the whole time!  Breathing in all that dirt, and then we kept coughing!”

        “So, I know this is kind of weird and random, but I was thinking about that the other day, and I had a thought about how you could keep yourself from coughing, too.”

        “Oh no, you aren't going to ask me to go outside and throw dirt in your face again, are you?”

        Elliot shook his head in a humorous manner.  “No no no, I don't want to do that again!  Just, hear me out.  I want you to tell me what you think of this idea I had...”

        General Greenfield looked down on Amber as the cloud of dust began to settle.  He vigorously scraped his foot across the ground and kicked up another cloud just for good measure.

        The pale dirt began drifting and settling around the young girl's head.  Despite this she remained still and motionless; she never so much as trembled.  Were it not for the subtle twitching around her eyes one could almost mistake her for being dead.  Even the next recruit behind her was flinching from the dust.

        'Dammit Amber, don't you breathe?!'

        The dust seemed to have no impact on her.  And then the tiniest motion around her mouth seemed to catch his attention.  He peered over a little more to get a better glimpse.  Tiny bubbles seemed to be forming and popping around her thinly parted lips.

        'She's... spitting?  No, she's filtering the dust through a layer of saliva?  She...  She prepared for this?!'

        He stepped over to the next row of recruits and angrily kicked up another large cloud of dust, and then another on the next row.  He looked back on the column just to make sure.  As the dust settled on another four recruits, he saw one of them tremble slightly as he tried unsuccessfully to stifle his own coughing.

        Greenfield stepped up to the coughing recruit.  In a low tone he simply uttered.  “Movement.”

        The recruit looked back without moving his head.  Just as quietly he called out “But... sir...”

        Greenfield knelt down and spoke in as quiet of a voice as he could.  “You just got out-classed by an eight-year-old.  Now report for PT.”

        With pain in his eyes he began standing up.  “Yes sir.”

* * *

        After I crossed paths with Greenfield, now a general, there was a distinct change in the training regimen.  I didn't piece it all together until after the training was over, but General Greenfield had been taking efforts to try to get me ejected from the Army.  I guess I can't blame him; like many people he saw me as a small child.

        Should I bother mentioning what happened with Bronner?  This was an important turning point in my training.  Indeed it was a hinge point for my entire military career.  In a weird way, I owe a lot to him.

        Recruits Menger, Bronner, and Strauss walked through the hallway, speaking in tones just beneath a normal volume.

        “Really though,” Menger stated, “I get the Hurians; they're part of the empire now, and besides, the Norlans are invading Hura too.  So fine, I'll fight alongside some Hurians.  But what I don't get is that eight-year-old girl.  What the hell is she doing here?”

        Bronner scoffed.  “No shit, right?  I mean is she just here for the Army's new bake sale?”

        Menger laughed, “Yeah, let's get her in the kitchen baking some cookies!”

        Strauss and Bronner laughed as well.

        “Recruits!” a voice called out from a crossing hallway.

        The recruits turned back and saw an officer leaning against the wall with his arms folded, positioned so they did not see him when they had passed.  They immediately stood at attention and saluted.

        Menger almost gasped when he saw the officer's rank, which he hadn't noticed when he was reprimanded for coughing during the exercise the other day.  “Sir!”

        “Step over here for a minute,” General Greenfield said while motioning further down the hall.

        Menger saw a poster pinned to the wall; another one of the 'Every Citizen of the Empire is a Citizen of the Empire' posters depicting soldiers of differing races and even a woman.  'Shit, is that what this is about?  But I just said I'm fine with fighting alongside Hurians!  How much did this guy hear?'

        Once they were a stones-throw from the main hall, he turned and looked at them.  “Your unit is going to be doing some special squad training today.  The soldiers slated for officer training will be leading the squads, including that Darkwood girl.  Does that upset you?”

        Menger promptly responded, “No, sir.”  'Oh thank goodness, it's not about that.'

        Greenfield looked at him with a slightly suspicious gaze.  “This isn't a formal inquiry; I want you to be honest.”

        With a slightly defeated tone Menger continued.  “Well, it bothers me a little bit.”

        Bronner fidgeted a little and then spoke up.  “Honestly, sir?  It bothers me more than a little.”

        The general nodded slightly as if to say “go on.”

        Bronner continued, “I mean, what's making her so great that she's going on to officer training?  What rich family did this brat squirm out of that makes her think she's better than us, when she's barely stopped wearing diapers?”

        The general stared sternly at the recruit like a disapproving father.  But a moment later he instead flashed a devilish smile.  “Alright, you'll do.”

        Bronner glanced over at his fellow recruits for a moment, but they seemed as clueless as he was.

        The general continued, “Use that anger.  I have a special assignment for you, and your frustration is exactly what I need.  One thing though; you don't tell anyone about our little meeting here; what I'm about to say is strictly off-the-record.  Don't worry; Sergeant Baum is in on this and you won't be reprimanded.”

* * *

        Amber looked over the pile of equipment.  She suspected there was more here than they really needed for the exercise; there was a lot of dead-weight just to put a strain on the recruits.  She thought for a moment that there might be a test to see if she could weed out the equipment that was not essential, and so she double-checked the written orders.  It clearly stated 'take all given equipment' to the specified coordinates.

        She let out a sigh, but it didn't look like more than she could handle.  There were three other men assigned to her command, and she felt fully capable of carrying her portion.  She walked over to a large and bulky box with the words RADIO EQUIPMENT painted on the side.  She tried lifting it up, but she could barely get it off the ground.  She paused for a moment and focused her mind on her orb.  It was becoming easier and more natural for her to find the levitation spell.  Her eyes began glowing with a faint amount of light as she reached out with her mind.  'We're not supposed to be doing the flight training yet, but I'm so glad they left this spell available here.  It's made a world of difference for me.'

        She focused the levitation spell on the box and lifted it once more.  With the weight substantially reduced it was like carrying a large chunk of Styrofoam.  Moving it felt awkward as she had to focus on how she was moving the box; she didn't understand why the levitation spell couldn't just 'make it lighter' like she thought it would, but such questions would get resolved when the formal training began.  She slid the box into an empty pack and it stretched the canvas to its edges.  The top of the sack wouldn't flip over but it still could be carried on someone's back.

        Amber looked over to the three men assigned to her squad.  They were casually standing around as if there were an invisible water cooler placed before them.  If cell phones were invented yet they'd be mindlessly staring at them.  “Strauss, Menger, Bronner!  Get over here and start dividing this equipment up!”

        Strauss began slowly sauntering over to the equipment and casually looked it over.  The other two just exchanged glances and didn't even move.

        Amber raised her voice slightly.  “That's an order, soldiers!”

        With a conceited expression Bronner looked Amber directly in the eye.  “I don't take orders from children.”

        Amber's eyes narrowed.  “Do you take orders from the sergeant?” she asked.

        Bronner nodded.

        Amber continued with a curt and forceful tongue.  “Sergeant Baum ordered you into my squad, under my command.  That means he has ordered you to follow my orders.  Now get over here!”

        A fair distance away, Sergeant Baum looked over in their direction, but remained firmly planted where he stood, watching all the squads assemble.

        Bronner made a slow saunter toward the equipment and Menger began following behind him in like manner.  Strauss seemed to look at them with an almost nervous expression.

        Amber faced the equipment again.  “We have four backpacks and an abundance of equipment.  However, if we focus on the larger parcels first, we will stand the greatest chance of getting everything to fit.  At worst, the smallest items can fit in our pockets.”

        Bronner sneered, “Well if you know exactly how you want everything packed, why don't you just pack it yourself?”

        Amber looked up at Bronner with notable aggravation.  “Does your skull have an additional foramen that your brain matter is leaking out of?  That was an order, you malformed paramecium!”

        Sergeant Baum continued to watch with a sideways glance, not moving from his position.

        Bronner scowled.  “Tch!  Why do you always use such big words!  Do you think you're going to make up for your tiny body by acting smart?”

        Amber was trying to subdue the fire of her anger, but with that statement the fire suddenly exploded as if someone dumped sawdust on it.  “Why you always gotta use such big words” was a phrase Darren was constantly fed by his incompetent classmates in middle school, and Bronner's words dug straight into a 37-year-old nerve.

        Amber fiercely gritted her teeth and walked up to Bronner.  “Then perhaps I'll just have to speak on a level you can understand.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Is Amber Darkwood gonna have to choke a bitch?”

        Bronner stood up straight and looked down at the girl with a smug expression.  “Ha!  Like you could even reach me!”

        Amber's eyes glowed with magic power as she raised a hand up before her; she held out her thumb and forefinger as if she were grasping something, and targeted the levitation spell on Bronner's neck, closing his windpipe.

        Bronner's mouth began twitching slightly and he started pulling on his collar nervously while making stifled gagging sounds.  Strauss and Menger looked on with perplexed expressions.  Bronner's sounds became more pronounced.

        It was too perfect; Amber could not resist the opportunity.  With a cool voice she stated “I find your lack of faith... disturbing.”

        Bronner's choking sounds became more pronounced as he tried to force strong bursts with his lungs, but still failed to collect anything substantial.  He fell to his knees and began desperately feeling his throat.

        Strauss and Menger gasped in horror and took a step back.  Other nearby recruits looked on with shock and awe.  Sergeant Baum at last began moving toward Amber's squad, his face much the same as the nearby recruits.

        With a stern tone Amber called out “Now tell me Recruit, do you happen to recall how orders work?”

        Bronner vigorously moved his head up and down.

        Amber opened her hand.  Bronner gasped loudly and then began coughing.  He inhaled with another gasp and coughed again.  He stumbled as quickly as he could toward the pile of equipment and began indiscriminately shoving items into the closest backpack.  Strauss and Menger rushed over and began packing with similar alacrity.

        With a failure to hide the concern in his voice, Sergeant Baum called out “What's going on here?”

        Amber swung the pack she had filled onto her back, and with a bit of a smug tone she replied “I don't see any problem here, Sergeant.  What about you men?”

        “No Ma'am!” Menger quickly responded.

        “No Ma'am,” Bronner rasped out.

* * *

        Amber found herself in a tiny room.  She stood at attention on one side of the table, while seated on the other side of the table was Sergeant Baum, Captain Mangold from her mage training courses, and a colonel that she didn't recognize and nobody bothered to introduce.

        “I understand the men were being antagonistic, and refused to follow your orders,” the colonel stated.

        Amber responded, “I believe that is putting it mildly.” 'Man, I'm really going to have drum up how disobedient they were; I'm really in for it now.'

        “How so?” the colonel asked.

        Amber paused for a moment.  “They were... aggressively not following orders.  Not simply being slow or disobedient, but being militant in their stance against me.” 'Wait, I can't drum them up too much; I'm sure these guys spoke with them and they already tried to make themselves sound better than that.'

        “Yes, well...  The point is, you began choking the man, with magic?”

        “Yes sir, that is...  Well, he was expressly contumacious because of my size and age; I needed an avenue that demonstrated my competence beyond my impairment.”  'Should I mention that I never actually touched him?  No, what kind of stupid rule-lawyering is that?  It would be like hitting him with a club and saying I never touched him; he'd see through that in a heartbeat.  Shazbot, I'm in for it now.'

        The colonel softly waved his hand.  “Yes yes, that makes sense, but that's not what we're here to talk about.”

        “Right...” Amber dropped her head slightly and drew a breath.  'Let's stop all this pandering.'  “Sirs, I ask you this: if I had gone to Sergeant Baum to rectify this matter, how would that have looked?  He was calling me out for being a child, and 'going to tell mom' is exactly the sort of childish behavior that would have cemented his impression of me that I wasn't fit to lead.  Without that alternative –”

        The colonel cut her off “Darkwood, stop.  ...You're not in trouble here.  At least, not from anything I have heard.”

        Amber was perplexed.  “Sir?  Then why are we having this meeting?”

        Captain Mangold spoke up.  “We want to know what it was you did to him.  What spell did you use?  That's what we don't understand.”

        “Huh?  I was just adapting the levitation spell from my orb.  I was playing around with it and practicing it for a while, and I realized it could be used to levitate other objects.  See?”  Amber waved her hand and a pencil laying on the table lifted into the air.  “I just did that, but on the sides of his throat.”

        The men in the room were stunned.

        Amber's face grew from perplexed to concerned.  “Okay, what am I missing here?  Why is this so surprising?  Has no one really tried to use a levitation spell this way?”

        Captain Mangold shook his head.  “That's... not a levitation spell.”

        Amber tilted her head to the side.  “It's not?  But I found it installed on my orb; isn't it the levitation spell needed for the flight packs?”

        Mangold grabbed the pencil in the air and pulled it back down onto the table.  He looked Amber squarely in the eyes.  “Recruit, the levitation spell for the flight packs is built into the flight packs, not the orb.  And they most certainly don't have the capacity to levitate other objects.  ...Can I see your orb?  I want to see what spell this is you are using.”

        Amber dutifully pulled out the red jewel fastened to her chest and set it on the table.  Mangold removed his own orb and placed Amber's on his chest.  He merely pressed it against his chest rather than slipping it into the sling behind his shirt.  He held it there while concentrating.  After a minute he finally declared “I don't see any spells on your orb except the standard-issue ones.”

        Amber's tone continued to sound perplexed.  “Really?  Because it's on there; I found it on all the training orbs I used, too.”

        “The training orbs...” Mangold repeated.  “Wait...”  He looked over to Sergeant Baum.  “Sergeant, let the recruit use your vox-orb for a minute.”

        Baum looked suspicious, but complied.  He unclipped his vox-orb from its harness and handed it over to the child.

        Amber looked at it in her hand for a moment.  It looked less like a magic jewel and more like a pocket-watch.  In fact with the large dial around its circumference, it looked like a steampunk-inspired thermostat.  “I thought you didn't even have to be a mage to use one of these.”

        “You don't;” Mangold affirmed, “you could use that with just a power level of five.  But the point is, there is nothing that orb can do except project your voice.  Even so, I want you to try your levitation trick using it.”

        Amber placed the vox-orb over her chest.  She focused her mind the way she was taught to do with the regular orbs.  Nothing was there, not even the voice amplification that would take hold automatically.  'It's not on.'  She turned up the dial and then focused again.  She felt the vox-orb touching her mana, just like the early training orbs that were used to teach her what to look for.  But now that she knew how to find the spells herself, she noticed that there was also something else there...  Something that just felt... natural.

        She reached out with her mind to touch the spell.  The vox-orb was clunky; it was like trying to use a couch as a flyswatter.  But the spell was still there.  She lifted her hand and the pencil rose into the air.

        All the men in the room gasped.

        Amber dropped her hand and the pencil fell down and rolled to the floor.  She took the vox-orb off her chest and with a panting voice she stated “Wow, that took a lot of mana out of me!”

        “I've seen this before!” Mangold declared.  “Miss Darkwood, you have a natural talent!  The spell isn't in your orb, it's in you!”

        “Huh?”

        Mangold handed Amber's orb back to her.  She passed the vox-orb back to the Sergeant and then took her orb back.  As she began putting it back in position the captain continued speaking.

        “It's rare among the rare, but it happens.  It's part of how magic was discovered in the first place.  Some mages are gifted with natural talents: they are special spells that only they can use, or sometimes, special affinities toward certain spells that allow them to utilize a spell to an exceptional proficiency.  But if you can access this spell with any orb, then yours is the former.  It's a special gift, Recruit, one imbued into your very nature.”

        Amber pointed at the pencil on the ground.  She reached out with her mind and lifted it into the air.  “A natural talent...” she breathed almost silently.

        “Amazing!” the Colonel declared.  “You have a special levitation ability!”

        “Levitation...?”  She waved her hand back and forth; the pencil moved side-to-side as she did so.  It wasn't the levitation spell for the flight-packs, nor was it just making things lighter; this was something else.  Something seemed to open in her mind; there was a fresh perspective as the pencil danced while she waved her hand.

        Sergeant Baum breathed out “So that's how you've been keeping up; you've been levitating things to make them lighter.”

        The colonel continued speaking.  “Why, I'm sure there's all kinds of ways that could be useful!  I wonder how big of an object she can levitate?”

        Captain Mangold put his finger to his chin.  “Darkwood, I want you to practice that levitation spell as much as you can.  That... enhanced levitation spell might...”

        “No,” Amber said, cutting him off.

        Mangold looked at her with a sharp gaze.  “No?”

        “This is more than just levitation.”  She opened her hand with her palm forward.  She could envision herself pulling the pencil to her hand, and pulled at the writing tool with her mind.  Suddenly the pencil zipped straight into her hand and she clasped her fingers around it.  “The word for this is... telekinesis.  I can freely move things with my mind; I have a telekinesis spell.”

        Mangold slowly nodded.  “Telekinesis then.  I want you to practice your telekinesis spell as much as you can.”

        “Absolutely,” Amber nodded.  She stared at the pencil in her hand.  Her mind swarmed.  With a soft voice she uttered “so many possibilities...”

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