Heavens of Glory

Chapter VII

Orion felt prepared. He had asked his team, now colorfully called the Idiot’s Faction, a name created by Orion’s second-in-command, to make all the gadgets they could. By the rules, any team could implement whatever electronics they created so long as it didn’t interfere with the blast armor, or change the laser array. The Idiot’s Faction had made a massive amount of spy units, communication devices, and fortifications. And it was Scarth, the second-in-command, who found a loophole in the law, and created a low-power shield for their main base, located in the gym. The instructors had accepted it and integrated it into the laser array in such a way that thirty shots would cause it to fail.
         Orion assembled his team in the gym one hour before the competition was set to begin. A massive metal structure now dominated the center of the gym, housing the prized medical facility which could “heal” anyone who was shot. In each of the eight corners of the gym, the cameras gazed solemnly on the area.
         When all one hundred of Orion’s soldiers, in their bright-green armor, had assembled, Orion began a brief speech. When he finished, the army sat back, checking their various gears and gadgets, and waited for the buzzer to sound and the battle to begin…

         Carla Laos sat down at her desk inside the legislative building. “Computer, set up a link to Warleader Tash.”
         The computer beeped twice. “Security passcode required.”
          “Laos 3659.”
          “Passcode accepted.”
         Tash’s face appeared on the screen. “Hello, Laos. How can I help you?”
          “Hello, HOB. First of all, how’s the attack going?”
          “Poorly. After destroying the Firstwave four weeks ago, and suffering considerable casualties as a result of that encounter, we completely lost to the Secondwave. We’ve just sent a few cloakable scouts to search for survivors. You may release this to the public, if you wish.”
         Carla smiled. “You know me well.”
         The Warleader shrugged. “You did serve directly under me when you were still a Bonscout. I make a point of knowing my soldiers well. Is there anything else?”
          “Yes. I am getting concerned about the Neyna. It’s been over three days since they should have come back through the catapult.”
         Tash snapped to attention. “How did you know about that? That is strictly confidential.”
          “Tash, you should know by now that you can’t keep anything from the Triumvirs. Apart from having your room bugged…”
          “I’ve dismantled all your bugs.”
          “Not all of them. Anyway, as I was saying, apart form having your room thoroughly bugged, I also have numerous contacts in the warring branch. I knew the instant you gave Hadrmagar and Terone their orders.
          “But I didn’t give Hadrmagar the orders in here. Which means you either have the entire complex bugged, which would be impossible, or Hadrmagar is one of your contacts.”
          “Oops. Laos out.” Carla shut the channel. The Warleader was wrong, and she knew that he knew it, but it couldn’t hurt to make it look simple. She had no real inside men, per se, or any bugs, for that matter, but she did have two flea-sized scouting bots which she had managed to smuggle into the complex inside the casing of an old logger. One of those were detailed to follow the Warleader whenever he entered the complex, the other she kept around for various reasons. She’d also managed to find an old unused wire coming out of the complex, which she used to get the transmissions past the EMP grid surrounding the base.
         The knocker rang on her door.
          “Come in,” she said. Her assistant Wievan entered.
          “You have another press conference in five minutes.”
          “I know. Thank you. You may leave.” Wievan bowed and left the room.
         Carla knew that she should go, but she had one more thing to do before she left.
          “Computer, set up a channel to the HT at the Federation Trading Outpost.” She knew that the computer would ask her which one, but the number designations were impossible to remember.
          “Specify which FTO.”
          “The nearest one.” She was glad to hear the computer make a small chime in confirmation.
          “Security Passcode required.”
          “Laos 3659”
          “Passcode accepted.”
         Carla waited for the beep which signified that the connection was open, but it never came.
          “Computer, why hasn’t the link been completed?”
          “The Federation Trading Outpost is ignoring our hail.”
          “Get me the next closest FTO,” Carla demanded. The computer beeped.
          “Hello, this is the HT of FTO 1134. What is your business?”
          “Why isn’t the FTO 1135 responding to hails?”
          “Tsk tsk. Pushy, aren’t we?”
          “Just answer the question.”
          “Very well. FTO 1135 was forcefully captured by a hostile species. They called themselves Tonorians. Pretty nice people, usually. We don’t know why they attacked. Why do you ask?’”
          “Because we happened to own half of the catapult there, and have a ship on the other side.”
          “Oh, well, in that case, I’m afraid that your ship is stranded in our space, and your claims to the catapult are now quite worthless.”
          “What do you mean, worthless!? Don’t you care about the catapult?”
          “We are not a violent species, you must understand. We do not fight unnecessarily. We have the blue prints for the catapult, and can build another when we wish to. And now we won’t be forced to share ownership of that catapult with you. You see, this situation was actually probably the best thing that could happen to us concerning that base. I’m sure that you can understand where we’re coming from.”
          “I understand that we have lost a valuable ship and crew, and you pigheaded bastards don’t give a damn!”
          “See, you do understand. I am sorry for your losses, but the Federation looks out for its own. We’ll try to contact your ship and tell them of our predicament, but other than that, we don’t promise anything. But we’ll make sure that your ship does not fall into enemy hands.”
          “Fine! Laos out.” Carla Laos cut the channel and looked up to see Wievan waiting at the door.
          “What is it?”
          “Your press conference began two minutes ago. They’re waiting.”
          “Very well.” Carla got up in a temper and left.

*           *          *

         Maria was stranded.
         Her escape pod had crashed on a desolate moon two days ago. Mac, the only other person in her pod, had suffered severe injuries during the attack on the medical ship, and had died shortly after landing, despite Maria’s best efforts.
         Maria tried to fall back asleep in a desperate, yet in the end useless, attempt to conserve oxygen. The limited light on the moon could only allow the oxygen synthesizers in the walls to undergo a limited amount of photosynthesis. Maria estimated that she had only three, maybe four at best, days left.
         She ignored the warning lights and automated distress signal, always flashing. She had silenced the computer long ago.
         She waited.