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Stories from the Verse
In Version
Chapter 121: Beam 191
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Brown 275
Emperor: I have some video you need to see, Captain Malacon said as he walked into what had been his primary office, but was now Beam’s chief operation’s room. Beam nodded, and went to the video room with his group and a dozen of the LGMs.
The use of all call to stop the robots was almost completely successful. The berserk attack on Floor 45 was quelled by it, after much unfortunate loss. However, ten warbot-configured robots were passing through a radioactive containment chamber. This offers a shortcut between levels 9 and 13 which is not guarded as the indigs cannot utilize that area except with extensive protection for short time periods. Thirteen is one of our allied floors.
We believe their numbers were called when they were out of all call range. They began to attack on Floor 13. Military forces were concentrated near the elevators, and we did not expect this. This is my fault, Emperor. The commander of Floor Thirteen is a good commander, but he is only a Floor Control Officer. He does not have the strategic training I have.
Beam internally shuddered. This sounded like it was going to lead to a massacre. His level of concern was not deep, but he did not look forward to seeing LGMs slashed into bits and pieces. Captain Malacon began a video.
Bob translated the words in Malacon’s head into English as he watched the video so that Beam and the others could understand it.
Confused, Beam saw a roomful of fifty Imperial Guards, standing in a bloc, facing a screen.
We fight for the Empire! For the Emperor Light-bringer! For our people! For the Emperor! And as one, they turned, spun about, and activated their repulsor pikes. A wider than normal set of doors at the back of the room opened into a scene from a horror movie. Dozens of LGM were strewn, cut and burned with blood everywhere, even on the ceiling. And in the midst of it all, nine robots continued to make war on shrieking survivors.
Then the Imperial Guard charged screaming, pikes forward, in perfect formation.
For the Emperor!
The first two rows of three each did not make it the fifty feet to the warbots, but some of the third did. Repulsor pikes jabbed and pierced, slashed and cut. More Guardsmen piled around the first bot, and went to the second. They died, and still they came on, and one by one, the bots fell in pieces or were drilled through their electronic brains until finally they all were finished. A minute passed, and medics arrived.
The video skipped time, and now four wounded Imperial Guardsmen stood, one with a missing arm.
For the Emperor. For our brothers and sisters. The holovideo ended.
Beam stared in shock. He felt dirty and awed at the same time. No, he would not go back on what he had done. He knew that he himself would never have done nor ordered that mad charge, but he could see greatness, and know, even as he cursed it as insanity, that it was greatness. With his mouth dry, he questioned.
“Only four survivors?”
Yes, my emperor. He looked around the room. The LGM, no, the People, were in shock, or tears, he thought. His own people looked amazed.
“What do we do when we have instances of the most outstanding courage?”
We can give the unit a battle commendation.
With my support, Beam signified with a jerky nod.
Yes, Emperor. It will be the Battle of Level 13 Hallway AC90, with Imperial Honors.
Beam looked over at Malacon with a question.
“Do your people give out individual awards?”
Yes.
“What is the highest?”
It is the Imperial Sunburst. It can only be given by the Emperor himself.
“One for each of that unit, living or dead.”
Yes, Emperor. It will be my supreme pleasure to do so. Malacon bowed as did all the other Little Green Men in the room. The Robot Offensive by the renegade Norax is done, Emperor. All robots are either nonfunctional, or in your control.
“Thank you, Captain Malacon, First Officer Lors,” Beam said. As the LGM left, he felt drained. He heard Bob’s voice in his head.
This one senses change in mood of ship. Mass of residents on ship have decided Norax must be destroyed. We have won war; you are Emperor. Norax is out there, seeking another plan.
Beam arose, and decided that now was a very good time to try out some of the LGM liquor. He would raise a glass and take a sip in honor of each of the guards who had died. Bron joined him, and soon Malacon and Lors did as well, along with others, and they spent the rest of the day getting drunk, and then drunker, telling sentimental stories, and crying until Beam realized he, Bob, and Dawn were the only ones awake. He had drunk everyone else under the table.
“Lightweights,” the white haired man scoffed, and put his head down on the table.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #495: World Crises. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
