Let's try this again.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Warring Ones
<We must get to the amplifying device!> commanded a harsh female voice.
<Before the beanheads!> another added.
<Death to the grain-brains!> yet another declared.
<To the greatness of the Helmacron Empire!> another one proclaimed.
It was like some sort of weird pep rally aboard the third Helmacron ship. It hovered just outside RAF, in the no-man's-land between RAF and the Bannedlands. Yet, they were just posturing. They haven't gotten around to
actually discussing just
how they were going to accomplish this.
But it was inevitable for the topic to come up. And when it did . . . well, swords got involved. If they managed to increase their size with the FYI . . . it was a truly terrifying prospect.
***
Back in the warehouse that Gary once used for a home base, a headquarters, lurked the Fmek commandos. The walls were lined with every exosuit in the tri-state area, barring the two that were repaired by Aquilai, Goom, and Yarin and the twenty in RAFian custody. None were legally owned by the Fmeks, and all were stolen.
The seven that had escaped were on their knees . . . er, their
exosuits were on their knees with their heads, er, ****pits bowed, face plates wide open.
Before them, a slim-bodied exosuit designed to look like a blonde, tanned twenty-something, wearing a reddish-orange tracksuit with white trim. He was piloted by the Fmek commander, and he had the face plate open as the others did.
"
Twenty." he said, with obviously supressed anger. "You fools allowed
twenty exosuits to be taken."
"Forgive me, sir," said a Fmek piloting the surfer exosuit, "but we didn't --"
"And twenty of our people dead," he said.
"They were captured, sir," said the Fmek piloting the girl scout. "Captured, not killed."
The commander whipped around so fast that his face plate slammed shut. The faux face that was completely blank before now reflected the commander's fury. He spoke through the exosuit, "THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE!! Especially if they talk!"
The commander straightened up and pressed the button on the lobe of his exosuit's ear. The face went blank as it swung open.
"What's worse is that you blew your cover! Now the vermin and the guardians of the device are put on guard!"
"No, sir!" the Fmek piloting the boy exosuit protested. "We were keeping up the pretense and no one was any the wiser! But the cloaked one knew the truth somehow without anyone dropping the pretense."
He whipped around, slamming the face plate again, and said "What? You're sure?"
"Yes, sir!"
"We may need to keep the Arquillians around, after all," he said thoughtfully, looking at a kitty carrier where the Arquillians cowered, and the young ones cried.
