Worlds Rising

     “Mrs. Valiant!”
     Lina Starhart cringed at the name but turned in answer and tried to put a pleasant look on her face. Waving her hands frantically, a young blue woman in hotel uniform was ducking through the bustle of coveralled movers as they guided floating platforms piled with chairs through these wide halls. Lina nodded at her as she made eye contact again.
     “Mrs.Valiant, they need you in the main ballroom. Right away, ma’am!”
     Two sets of men hauling long tables on anti-gravs cut off Lina’s view.
     “But Mrs. Valiant--” the man behind her said.
     She turned back to him seated at his multiple computer consoles, screens hanging in the air in front of him, and swooped her hand in a “sound off” command. “Just take ‘em in order,” she told him. “I don’t care if they’re the Lord High Poobah in Charge of Planetary Pinky Etiquette on Sarastor itself. Tell them I said so. My name’s Lina Starhart and not Mrs. Valiant; you can include that, too. Tell them that we’re restricting this to five people per world, but take up to eight if their world borders the Empire; just don’t offer that to begin with. We only have five days scheduled to do this and with four hundred planets in the Confederated Worlds and God knows how many Unaffiliateds...”
     Lina sighed at the schedule ahead of her, but the man merely waited for her orders. “You sign them up in the order they come in, no exceptions except for Legionnaires. We’re supposed to get just Team Leaders and Primary Team Members from them, everyone else to come later. Coordinate with Sub-Commander Nurunori’s office for that.” She grimaced. “You should refer to me as Mrs. Valiant when dealing with them. But only with them.”
     “There are so many applicants!”
     “We do two hundred people per session, no more, no less,” Lina ordered. “Any leftovers, tell them to consult the schedule, reserve their space and go ahead into hyperspace to the next stop on this tour as soon as they can. Our transportation’s a lot quicker than hyperspace, and we’re not going to wait for them. If they miss the session, we’ll have a tape available soon.”
     “Yes, ma’am. They won’t want to wait for the tape.”
     “Mrs. Valiant!”
     Lina turned to the hotel woman, who ducked under a floating table and scrambled to attention by Lina’s side.
     “I’m coming. Main ballroom, you said?”
     “Yes, Mrs.--”
     Lina ported there directly.
     She chose one of the few spots that didn’t hold someone or something. The coveralled staff quickly set up two hundred chairs in reasonable order and bowed the floor to form a shallow amphitheatre, plenty of view for everyone. These weren’t folding chairs; they looked more like armchairs that one would curl up in on a rainy Sunday afternoon to read a good book.
     “I’ll have to work to keep them awake,” Lina muttered to herself as she looked around. She tuned into her guides and their invisible hands pointed to the back of the room.
     Lina strode to the refreshment table, where the food had just been brought in. It was still securely wrapped and looking quite interesting for a eat-at-your-seat breakfast, probably a good choice for the mix expected. Lina didn’t know much yet about foods Out Here.
     Two Legionnaires talked quietly between themselves at the table. She knew both of them. There were five hundred Legionnaires to learn, hard to do without scorecards. She’d made friends with a few, made an enemy of one, and married two others. That was a start.
     “Lina!” Tall, dark-haired Leellen waved her over with her sensor padd. She circled her arms to take in the entire table of food. “Poisoned. All of it.”
     “Poisoned?” Lina stopped in her tracks.