Musings from Space: League War 4 (Fan-Fiction)

by Chained Angel
ID: 20570

    Floating in space, the arena for the Stellar Battle compared easily with the other seven wonders of the world. Glistening, metallic panels and dense glass reflected the light of the sun as brilliantly as a diamond beneath a jeweler’s glass. Several occupants of the shuttle pushed and shoved one another while trying to behold the astounding sight through the ship's windows.

    “Amazing,” Catalyst sighed in wonder as he observed during the shuttle’s approach to the landing bays.

    “I can’t disagree with that.” Wyldfyre peered wide-eyed over Catalyst’s shoulder.

    “Is it really worth everything they spent?” Chained Angel asked from her aisle seat. “That money could have gone to so many other good purposes.”

    “True,” Prysmatica nodded as she read on her data-pad.

    “Bah,” the Eternal Tempest grunted. “The last league wars were fought in the oceans in their arena. BADGE was cautious of interfering with nature fortunately, but it is better out here. Their waterborne monstrosity scared the fish.”

    “The peoples of your world are very cognitive of the expenditure of one resource at the cost of another.” HowlingMoon commented. “I find it odd. Talaria was far different.”

    “Money talks, baby,” Wyldfyre said as he returned to his seat. “Some say it can’t buy you happiness, but those who do really just haven’t tried hard enough.”

    “To each their own.” Prysmatica turned off her device and looked to her fellow league-mates. “Look at those gathered around us. You can tell that many have spent a great deal to compete. If it makes them happy, so be it. We fight to make it a free world, for people to be able to choose for themselves, don’t we?”

    “Yeah, but once, wouldn’t you like to have everything you want by hitting a button?” Wyldfyre snapped his thumb and middle finger against one another. “Boom, baby. Happy-time!”

    “It would be nice for a moment, but soon after, someone else will hit their big, red button and get more than I have.” Prysmatica brought out a nail file and began to inspect her nails. “Then it becomes an endless cycle of who has the most. I don’t want to live like that.”

    “It just doesn’t seem fair because everyone should have the same option to cash in,” Chained Angel sighed. “Pun intended.”

    “Morphon’s weren’t fair. Some people got powers, others didn’t. Was that fair?” Wyldfyre shrugged. “Fair ain’t always part of the game, sweetheart.”

    “I hate to say this,” Chained Angel offered a playful smile to Wyldfyre. “But unfortunately, you’re right.”

    Several pings go out from the shuttle’s inboard speakers. “We will be landing in less than two-minutes. Please feel free to get ready for departure at this time.”

    “Do you think Starmaster will make back for the league war?” Catalyst asked as he pulled himself away from the window.

    “I hope so.” Tempest replied. “Our first match-up doesn’t look good without him.”

    “It doesn’t look good with him.” Wyldfyre shook his head. “They have a full roster of long-term combatants with multiple wins. We’re a handful of noobs. I plan on nappin.”

    “Have you seen some of the early results so far?” Prysmatica returns her file to her purse. “There are quite a few one-sided fights. 114 to 0, 170 to 1. A couple battles are closer, but most have a huge spread. There are even divisions where allied teams are fighting against themselves.”

    “Ha,” Wyldfyre guffawed. “You said huge spr—”

    “Don’t be a pig.” Prysmatica rolled her eyes. “How did you get in this league again?”

    “If we don’t think we have a chance, why are we even here?” Catalyst inquired.

    “It isn’t always fair, it isn’t always easy, and there are times where all you have is bad luck,” Chained Angel looked to each of her teammates. “We aren’t the only league out there that will have a challenging first battle round today. But, in the end, we are here to get stronger. To become better."

    “Forget that!” Wyldfyre unbuckled the strap across his lap and stood. “I’m here to woo some disgruntled women who need a good reason to forget the last few hours.” He reached overhead and retrieved his duffel bag from an overhead compartment. Unzipping it, he slid a hand in and pulled out a bottle of liquor. “Tequila and all the boys. Jack, Jim, and Johnny. I come prepared.”