Chances
an excerpt

III. 2xxx
The Soldier
i.

His third incarnation was a space soldier posted in a watch station near the outskirts of the planet Shyrah. Since the last war, the Shyrah governors had been extra vigilant about their security and had created new space stations for surveillance and defense purposes. Wanting to defend the numerous tikbalang sanctuaries on Shyrah, they had commissioned L33T to provide manpower for the space stations.

He had been born in one of the ‘human factories’ as the commoners called them, his sole purpose in life having been determined beforehand. The moment he could walk, the L33T defense organization took him in. The very first day inside the training complex, he had been given his codename; 4UR3L14N0. He had diligently memorized his designation, not complaining at all about its length.

It was the year 2xxx, only two decades after the Philippines had taken over the entire planet of Earth. The take-over had been done quickly and smoothly; most countries didn’t know what had happened until the Philippine president had made her worldwide broadcast, announcing the capture of the presidents of other major countries.

The Philippine government had quickly commandeered several of the newly discovered habitable planets and turned them into sanctuaries for their endangered species and Shyrah was one of them. The rest they had granted to faithful, subservient ally countries as stewardships. Certain continents were also granted to other minor countries to govern.

Of course, there were people who fought against the planetary rule of the Philippines. Their base was on the planet Mortel, only a day’s worth of space travel from Shyrah. Because of its location, majority of the Mortel faction’s latest attacks were concentrated on Shyrah and the tikbalang sanctuaries located there.

A beeping sound alerted 4UR3L14N0 that there was an incoming transmission waiting to be acknowledged. He switched on the communications system.

“Agent 4UR3L14N0, status report.” The voice crackled over the comm system, booming throughout the security room, making him wince and cover one ear.

4UR3L14N0 reached for a knob and lowered the transmission’s volume before pressing a button and answering. “This is 4UR3L14N0. No Mortel activity so far. There was a small leak in the station’s water supply but it was quickly detected and remedied. No foul play suspected.”

“How are things planetside?”

“Agent J0S3 reports no abnormalities.”

“Good. President Bautista wants to tighten security a bit more. Apparently, they’ve received threats via vidmail this past week about bombings and Shyrah is one of the target places.” 4UR3L14N0 raised an eyebrow; his commanding officer sounded a bit harried.

“Sir, security is already as tight as it can be,” 4UR3L14N0 said calmly. “I highly doubt that any sort of incendiary device can be brought planetside without one of the space stations detecting its approach.”

“I know that,” the voice snapped over the comm system. “And I tried to tell those government lackeys that as well. Just keep a sharper lookout for anything out of place.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” The transmission immediately died, leaving 4UR3L14N0 with the sound of static crackling over the speakers. With a sigh, he turned off the comm system and settled back to sit more comfortably on his chair.

The security room was brightly lit, revealing one wall entirely covered in screens that showed different views of different areas on the space station. 4UR3L14N0’s fellow soldiers were all in their assigned posts and nothing was out of the ordinary. He sighed. Life was getting boring on the station. The Mortel faction was becoming all talk and their attempts at sabotage were quickly becoming mediocre.

4UR3L14N0 missed the times when he had been at the frontline of battle against hardened rebels. Now, he was babysitting a planet with sufficient defenses even without L33T soldiers stationed there. “This is stupid,” he muttered to no one in particular, resting his elbows on the control panel in front of him.

“Why, yes. Yes it is.”

4UR3L14N0 sat up straight at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, his gray eyes immediately looking around warily at the room. It was completely devoid of life, except for him, and there was no possible source for the voice unless…

He glanced at the control panel. His elbow had accidentally switched on the comm system and had also changed the transmission frequency. He was about to just turn off the comm system when he realized that he was on a classified L33T frequency. That meant that the person on the other end of the transmission was a fellow soldier. Well, 4UR3L14N0 was bored and the guy on the other end appeared to be bored as well. No harm in chatting; he could always receive alerts for incoming transmissions anyway.

“This is a L33T soldier posted at a space defense station,” he said into the microphone.

“And this is a L33T undercover operative.” There was a pause before the voice went on. “Well, I’m training to be one, actually,” he said wryly.

“Aaah. You’re on a school planet, then?”

“Nope. Only a school outpost on Earth.” There was a pause before he went on. “So, soldier boy. How’s life on a space station?”

Soldier boy? 4UR3L14N0 blinked a couple of times. That was new. “Since I am already a soldier and you are merely an operative-in-training, it would do you well to remember that I am technically of higher rank than you. You should address me properly. And besides, I am older than you. Calling me ‘boy’ is highly inappropriate.”

He could almost see the smile on the student’s face when he answered. “Oh really? And how should I address you? By calling you ‘sir’?”

“That is the accepted term.”

“Well, soldier man, you don’t really know where I am and you can’t do anything to me if I keep on calling you whatever I want. Besides, don’t you wanna loosen up? You sounded bored when you first spoke. Have some fun, why don’cha?”

Soldier man… 4UR3L14N0’s eye twitched but a smile made its way across his face, nonetheless. “Well, rookie. When you put it that way, it’s hard to argue with you.”

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming open came from the comm system. “R4F43L! We’re going out to go swimming! Are you coming or not?”

The next sounds were muffled; the rookie must have covered the microphone with his hand. 4UR3L14N0 stopped his smile from growing any wider. When the voice on the other end came back, it sounded a bit annoyed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“So your designation is R4F43L?”

A sigh. “You got me. I was just practicing using the comm system when your transmission suddenly came through. And now I have to go.”

“Until next time, then.” 4UR3L14N0 was about to turn off his own comm system when R4F43L spoke hurriedly.

“Wait! What’s your designation?”

The soldier paused before answering. “4UR3L14N0.”