The BZ-Metru Story, Chapter 31

Nothing is as frustrating as arguing with someone who knows what he's talking about.

Sam Ewing

Christmas Morning—a time for young children to wake up early and find that presents have magically appeared under the tree, a gift from Hapori Tohu. For parents, it is a time of peace and solitude from the daily hustle and bustle of normal life. For armies warring against each other, it is a much needed respite and a time to lay down arms. For leaders of two warring empires, it is a time for planning.

That is exactly what Black Six, Toaraga, and Boneseiii were doing. All three looked depleted, haggard, and exhausted. None of the three was dressed in leisure clothes; not even Christmas could afford them that luxury. All were dressed in what was now their normal attire, military uniforms. Their setting was an officer’s tent on the border of Storyline and Theories, one of the few Forums that remained under BZ-Metru control.

“There is only one option,” said Toaraga, who was sitting at a table holding a map of the country. “I will take my forces to General Discussion, while Bonesiii remains here to defend S&T.”

Bonesiii, sitting nearby, rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you, that idea would be detrimental to us. The better idea would be for us to split them up, which is a lot better than them splitting us up like you suggest.”

“And remind me just how leaving your OWN forum defenseless would be better than defending both it and the capital?”

“Just look at the situation: Mahalis’ forces have taken every forum from BBC to the edge of the Library, and they just flat out destroyed that. This is the last forum we have control of, other than the Capital. We need to change that. By remaining here, we’re blocking them from further advancement. Hopefully we can stalemate them enough to allow Smeagol’s newly amassed BS01 force to overtake some of the BZR’s weaker forums, such as LGD or the Marketplace.”

“You’re assuming we’ll be able to hold them back long enough! You’ve barely been able to keep them from overrunning the continent!”

“Both of our armies have not yet been together like they are now, so I’m betting that with our combined strength, we can at least hold them back, if not push them back. It’s a win win situation, to use the cliché.”

Toaraga sighed and looked to the heavens. “What do you think, Six?”

Black Six, who had silently been sitting on a couch through the debate, silently wished that he had not been drawn in. He preferred to listen and make a decision intelligently, not argue. “Both sides have merits. Remind me what the details of your plan are, Toaraga?”

Toaraga smiled smugly at Bonesiii, as if to say ‘he chose me—’ “Our intelligence has told us that Mahalis has put all his bets into offense, and that the only credible fighting force he has is the one on the other side of the valley. It contains ten thousand troops, I’m told. My army contains four thousand troops, and

Bonesiii’s has eleven thousand. However, just as with the BZR, that’s pretty much the extent of our forces until Smeag gets here from BS01. Instead of gambling and waiting for him, I suggest I take my four thousand up to GD to defend it, while Bonesiii leaves his troops here.”

Bonesiii smirked. “And if those ten thousand troops attack your four thousand?”

“Easy, you attack them from behind and we destroy them.”

“Those are terrible odds! It’s a two day journey from here to GD, and that’s one man, not four thousand or ten thousand, and going through Books and Movies! It would take you at least ten days go through the Library District to avoid their army, and you’d be setting yourself up for an ambush! There’s no

way we could get there in time!”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with anything better, so I—”

“My plan is fine, certainly better than yours!”

“Shut up, let’s see what Six has to say.”

The two generals turned their heads to their commander, awaiting the final decision.

Six looked away. Personally, he thought both men should spend less time arguing like jealous two year olds and spend more time planning, because he honestly thought both plans just wouldn’t work. There had to be another option. Both men were wrong in assuming that it would take time for Smeagol to get there, as Smeag had called to say his one thousand troops amassed in BS01 would arrive in S&T by morning. They would provide an adequate decoy… perhaps…

“Gentlemen,” said the administrator. His tone was heavy, weighed down by the thousands of lives that hung on his decision. “Amass your troops. We march south immediately.”

“South?” both generals exclaimed, shocked and surprised. Neither had proposed such an idea.

“South. By morning we will be on the southern edge of the library, and preparing for our next offensive.”

“But… offensive? Where?” asked Toaraga, perplexed by the sudden decision.

“CoT. If it really is as undefended as you say, Toaraga, it should be ours by this time tomorrow. From there, we have re-established our stronghold on the continent and will be able to retake the smaller forums.”

The two generals were speechless. Black Six stood from his chair and exited the tent, pausing long enough to speak: “Come on, we march within the hour.”

Ninjo was in a completely different situation. He was not in a tent, for one thing, as Mahalis had decided to occupy the city district of Books and Movies rather than camp outside. Ninjo sat behind the desk of the FL’s office, which had formerly been used by the predisposed Takuta-Nui. Mahalis and Bfahome, is top generals, sat in chairs facing him.

“Gentlemen,” said Ninjo, folding his hands on the desk. “The time for talk and petty espionage is done.”

Bfahome twitched slightly. “Why, sir?”

“All of our attempts at espionage have failed. EW and his assassination attempts have landed him in prison. Toa Velox has defected and disappeared. Our only attempts at such trickery that have succeeded have been because of the stupidity of others.”

These words struck deep into the heart of Bfahome. For the entirety of the war, he had been in charge of every non-war related attack against BZ-Metru. The fact that Ninjo was ranting on his failures could only mean one thing—he was being replaced. But Bfahome knew that arguing with his leader would only result in a fate worse than whatever was already planned.

“So I have decided,” continued Ninjo, staring at his folded hands, “to dissolve our intelligence agency, and to promote you, Bfahome, to General of the Armies of the BZR.”

Both Mahalis and Bfahome nearly gagged, Mahalis out of ungrateful shock; Bfahome out of joyous surprise. Mahalis quickly gathered himself together.

“May I ask why sir? If the intelligence department has had such failure, that is…”

“You have no room to speak of the failure of others,” Ninjo replied with a sharp tone. “While it is true that you have had some success in this eastern offensive, you have made one critical mistake which will cost us thousands of lives and dollars.”

“…what?” whispered Mahalis, horrified.

“I took a moment to speak to our scouts earlier today. They reported to me that two hours ago, the forces of BZ-Metru deserted their campsite and began to march south toward the Library border.”

“And?” Mahalis’ face turned a shade of red not unlike that of a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“…and they also told me that they gave you the exact same information naught but two hours ago.”

Mahalis sunk into his chair. Bfahome resisted every urge in his body to burst out laughing, instead keeping a stone cold grimace.

“So you must be able to understand these personnel transactions. They are not my decision entirely, I phoned Dimensioneer an hour ago and he suggested it to me. He is not happy with you, Mahalis, and as soon as this campaign is over he wishes to speak with you—alone. As for you, Bfahome, what to do with our amassed forces is your decision.”

Bfahome shot a smug glance at Mahalis—fast enough to go undetected by Ninjo—before answering. “If BZ-Metru is going south… then it must be that they are going to attack CoT.”

Ninjo nodded.

“…So we can lure them into a trap, by allowing them to be engaged by Kex’s troops before surrounding them from behind.”

Ninjo smiled, a rarity. “Excellent, Bfahome. Though why would you want to destroy BZ-Metru?”

Both Bfahome and Mahalis were shocked, not sure of what had just happened. Their minds raced, before they separately came to the same conclusion. A conclusion involving a private discussion with Dimensioneer, and about the virus in Ninjo’s system…

Ninjo was still smiling, wondering why neither spoke. He opened his own mouth to speak, but before a sound came out he closed his eyes and shuddered violently. His eyes once again flickered open, and the smile vanished from his lips.

“What are the two of you staring at?” he barked, at which the two looked away. “We have an army to move. Leave me.”

Rama-Swarm had no family. So on Christmas Day, he had no choice but to remain in his office turned apartment in the Admin’s Palace, catching up on much needed sleep. He had spent much of the last week finishing designs for a new Bohrok style gun—bringing Bionicle onto the battlefield—so sleep had been rendered a luxury.

But despite his lack of friendship on a holiday, he enjoyed his solitude. So it was a bit of an annoyance to be summoned to Dimensioneer’s private residence at eleven o’clock at night, for reasons unknown.

“Do sit down, Rama,” said Dimensioneer when he opened his apartment door. Rama complied and sat down on the living room sofa.

“So, you rang?” said Rama, short winded as ever.

“Yes, I am sorry for interrupting your rest Rama. But I have grave news for you.”

Rama nodded. “What is it?”

“Do you remember the conversation we had back when this all started, about how the virus in Ninjo has been weakening?”

“Yes.”

“And how we must kill him to continue with our plans?”

“Yes…”

“The time is now.”

Rama looked up at his leader, perplexed.

“We have to kill him now?”

“Not immediately, no. But if events play out as I believe they will…” Dimensioneer paused, gazing out the wall sized window at the starry sky above. “Ninjo will return to General Discussion within a week. And when he does…”

He turned to his friend and confidant. “I want you to kill him.”

“How will I know he is here?”

“It will be unmistakable. Now go, that is all I wished to speak about. Go get your rest.”

Rama nodded obediently and left. Dimensioneer smiled bitter-sweetly as he left, knowing full well that he had just sentenced his close friend to an unfortunate, but necessary, demise.