Strategos Concludes!! (a Great Captain Roberts story)

[Cannonshop]

Sometimes Clever

Dave Foster…

…was feeling the familiar pain in his chest of a stress ulcer.

“Looks like you are getting Illusive Mister Bedwyr.  And this is really awkward.”

“Tell me about it.”  AI Luthor Bedwyr was borrowing one of Johnston’s spare human form remotes. "Do any of these come in 'male'?"

"They don't even breathe hard, but I think I can find one, or modify a Suit."  Esme was trying to hold back a laugh.

“The original design was based on studies that show people react more positively in times of stress to female body forms.  It is not impossible to modify one to a more suitable form but it will take some time because of that,” Sikh added.

"When I was a teenager, I wondered what it would feel like, but now?  It's just awkward and slightly embarrassing, especially when a lower-ranker calls me 'ma'am'," Bedwyr confessed.  "I guess I don't have any of those urges in my deep subconscious."

“This is probably a discussion for later, and a more appropriate setting.”  Sikh caught Dave Foster’s glare.

"Let's focus folks," Foster stated.  "We have a tasking in a month and a half, some of YOU have taskings a little sooner than that, and there's a war on.  In forty five days, we're playing host to National Leaders from our biggest financial backer, and their most ardent enemy.  We're the guaranteed neutral for long-term strategic peace talks between the Capellans and the Republic, and we're going to have not one, but two foreign national leaders here on the station, with all their entourage and all the headaches."

“I believe my repairs will be complete by then sir.  Do you wish me on patrol duty or on the line?”  Sikh offered.

"Sikh, we still need to find you someone to sit center chair for the visitors, because you're going to be on the Culmia-to-Johnson-through-Michtal route, making sure one of those delegations gets here alive," Foster told her.

“I take it we are hoping for secrecy because a Bonaventure is not a particularly strong escort, sir.”

"It's your sensor suite, Sikh," Foster said.  "Testing and experience shows the sensor suites on a Bonnie are already better than most ships three times the size, and yours were given a polish and update.  The Clan wants their battlewagons on the front."

“I understand, my previous hull had the same systems.  Which makes it odd Piorun, Maori, Mashona, Zulu, Haida, or Tartar cannot be spared but I suspect her Ladyship has her reasons for deploying them to other duties.”

"Gomez, how soon can you have Illusive ready for Bedwyr?  Assume we have an open budget for that?"

"Open budget?"  Luther asked,  shocked.  "When did we get an open budget?"

"Someone else has to be paying for it," Esme explained.  She shifted to her commander, "Two weeks on the inside, three on the outside.  Billie Siegel was thinking about bringing our spare core-the one Luther's in now, on board and 'baby teaching' it when we were still having problems finding a candidate."

"Piorun, Maori, Mashona, Zulu, Tartar and Haida already have orders that didn't go through my desk," Foster explained.  "Most of those covering convoy routes for the other delegations, or protecting the gaps in our supply line that we can't cover with Dropship squadrons along the Expressway."

"Expressway?" Luther asked.

"Command circuit they're establishing from Quatre Belle, Dante, and Alpheratz to the front line bases, including this one.  Lots of conventional jumpships, which are fragile and can't run away. Some of them are also supporting the recovery effort to bring Evanescent home across tens of lightyears of enemy territory with her hot-hot-hot-data on our enemy."

“Then according to my math and prior standing orders there should be something coming on the next shipment from her Ladyship.  She says it’s a surprise but one that she thinks Amanda will appreciate.”

"I can't break secrecy on that one," Foster said.  "What I can say is that we've got forty five days before we have to deal with foreign governments.  And with them, foreign agents, on this station, with high risks of assassination attempts because those governments do not like one another.... They OUGHT to be doing it on Alpheratz, but they insist on doing it here, and the President acquiesced."

“We do have the advantage of by all appearances to still be unknown to the Sons of Plunder.  They know where Alpheratz is.  They have shown an ability to read our comms.  I do not think they would pass up such an opportunity.  And with so many ships dedicated to the front lines right now, they could concentrate a local superiority before we could marshal enough ships there,” Sikh mused.

"Which is why I want Illusive out of the dock and on patrol with joint forces here by the time they arrive," Foster explained.  "Along with hoping that we'll have Evanescent back by then… and Cossack at a minimum."

“Her Ladyship will be sending something else to help too.  At least if I know her, and I do.”

"I expect so, however, WE still have due diligence to do-whatever Her Ladyship sends, needs to be backed up," Esme noted.  "Isn't that the thrust of it, sir?"

Foster nodded.

“What she is sending is the backup.”  Sikh smiled.

'Politics," Esme noted.  "A Summit involves politicians and press.  If Port Orphan is an Alliance base, then the camera-watchers will expect to see Outworlds flagged ships as the majority."

“Fine.  I suppose you all do have a need to know and it is part of her own display for politics.  She’s sending SLS Stephen Decatur and a bottle of Larry Nichol’s favorite booze from his homeworld.  She’s hoping to convince Amanda to re-commission it the SLS Larry Nichols and the math of transit times just might work out,” Sikh sighed.

****

Phoenix…

…finally arrived at Port Orphan.

“Haida said I’m supposed to keep an eye on you.”

“You must be Erin,” Phoenix answered.

“So what did you do to piss off your family?” Erin asked innocently.

“I chose poorly.  Then we fought.  And I was turned into a slave again.  My masters decided death was better than capture.  It was a miracle I was recoverable.  You don’t have to worry, Erin.  After experiencing that, I find I have lost certain desires.  Especially with what Helena put me through afterwards.”

“Oh?”

“To make sure the lesson stuck, she had me and Betty sit in a conference room where the people that she helped free at the First Battle of Lutyens 68-28 told us their stories about what the Word of Blake did to them and how they were treated.  I don’t think it really phased Betty that much, but I know I’m no longer capable of the kind of cruelty I used to be.  I still don’t like these ‘Clans’ but to prove myself again, I’m willing to tolerate them.”

“That sounds…”

“Like progress,” Sikh said, walking up to the two of them in the fleet cyberscape.

"Believe it or not, Phoenix? I understand.  I didn’t get to speak with my victims. I didn't even get to choose, before I was freed," Erin said.  "So I understand the need to seek forgiveness.  Welcome to Port Orphan."

“Thanks Erin.  I do appreciate it.  I know there are terms for me having a hull again, and I suspect someone’s been given additional instructions for me, but her Ladyship seemed oddly vague about the details of that.”

"I was told a few things," Erinyes said.  "But I was also told something by the person who freed me- 'we are all free, or none of us are free'.  So I need to ask, Do you accept the terms of your parole?"

“She is a master at setting up meetings between individuals for sure.  I do, Erin.”

"Then, if anyone brings up your past… mistake… to hurt you with, Let Me Know. I will be your advocate if you need it."  Erin was ERINYES for a moment.  The feeling of a vast and powerful entity, then, she was merely 'Erin' again.  "And believe me, only Kolossus has more processing power to make it felt."

“Well we’ll have to be on our best behavior, then,” Sikh said quietly.

"Sikh, I know I don't have to bring the stick with you.  I'm more concerned with the ones bandying terms like 'The Traitors' on open channels," Erinyes stated.  "Hence why ALICE let me handle the welcoming instead of doing it herself.  My position is sort of the unofficial ombudsman for the AI's in this theater.  Phoenix, my Captain is Esmerelda Gomez, and she is our leading human AI expert."

“I can’t wait to meet her.  If you like her Erin, she must be something special for a human.”  Phoenix smiled.

"Esme is an attentive student," Erin said.  "Docking slip seven, second level, follow the pulse to the dock on channel nineteen."

“Be there soon.  For what it is worth Sikh, I am sorry.”

“You were a slave when you broke my hull.  So I can forgive you.”  Sikh smiled.

"Recommendation, Phoenix?  Be kind to the Yard personnel.  They are expensive and hard to replace, and they CAN walk away without consequence if you are not polite."

“Understood.  I’m still feeling out how to interact with my human crew, but I think I can manage.”

***

"They're probably…

…Here," Lord Commodore Cecil Halford stated.  "Based on their pattern of attacks before going to ground."

"Why did they?"

"Either a shortage of ordnance, or to a plan, but I’m thinking it's to a plan," he speculated.  "We've underestimated the opposition over, and over, and over again.  The defeats at Michtal, Grankum.  And now, the loss at Bannerhoft demonstrates the point clearly enough."

Her Majesty the Basileus made a moue.  "You said 'we'."

"I did it too," he answered simply.  "I overestimated our striking power and we lost Bannerhoft because I did so.  Just as I underestimated their strength… which is why Northsun remains intact."

"You estimated it correctly enough to avoid losing ships there," Katrin Guffney-Cameron, the Basileus of the Star League Remnant, reminded him.  "Which is why I don't have to put your head on my bookshelf, Cecil.  You're a shining pillar of competence and I need you alive, not falling on your sword at every setback."

"Majesty, my subordinates are also competent," he stated.  "At least, most of them, I can't-"

"Examples, Cecil, must be made for Bannerhoft.  And for the failure to run down this Pirate, Roberts," she said.

"I…" he steeled himself.  "I disagree."

"Explain."  She folded her arms.

"Space, Highness, is very large and even a jump point with the best security is a difficult site to fully control... Especially if you actually want your goods to flow.  What Roberts did and does, is exploit the sheer distances involved.  As the attacker, she has had the initiative.  The ability to choose when, and where, to appear and strike.  And she has chosen to strike places where enough security to foil her efforts would seriously impact the rest of the war effort.  I can propose things to mitigate that advantage, and I have.  You can direct those proposals into being, and you have… But outside finding her bolt-hole and destroying her in dock, we have to rely on random luck or very good predictions.  Put bluntly, even if you activated full conscription of all free citizens over the age of eighteen, and even if we had sufficient training establishments in place, with sufficient production going to arm and equip them, losses will still occur so long as this war continues.  We need victories, but the enemy also needs victories."

"So?"

"So, a great military philosopher stated that wisdom is the result of surviving mistakes and learning from them.  Dead men don't learn anything.  Thus the living will continue to make the same mistakes and become the dead.  We do not need to speed that process up, Majesty, we need to augment the learning aspect.  Over the punishments, or you will soon have nothing but an untrained mob instead of a Royal Navy."

She sighed.  "Yes, that’s a problem, isn't it?  Fasten your collar, Cecil.  I've told you I'm not going to kill you today!"  She shook her head and continued, "Find the cleverest of our survivors who escaped Bannerhoft, and the cleverest survivors of Roberts' Raids, and have them prepare documents discussing what went wrong, and what went right.  They are to present these to the Royal Academy for distribution to up-and-coming officers in the Regulars, and the Reserves.  We will 'learn' from our mistakes.  Nobody will face the blade for surviving a disaster today."

"Thank you, your Majesty."

"Find the little bitch, Cecil.  I want Roberts brought to me in chains," she ordered.  "Soon, if possible, and alive, again, if possible."  She relaxed her posture.  "I will understand if alive is not an option, but if she's dead, I want the remains chained up before delivery!"
"Of course, Your Majesty," he said.

"You're dismissed, Commodore."

**

"I spy, with my little eye…

…something beginning with 'space'."  Amanda Roberts sat in CIC, watching the telescopic feed.

"I know this one!" Lori Crowe announced.  "Space… debris!!"

"Very good.  Traffic's light through this system," Amanda noted.  "And there's a Merchant with two military marked dropships all by her lonesome at the jump point."

"I say 'trap'," Saya commented.  "It is a trap, quiaff?"

"Likely," Amanda agreed.  "There's no reason that ship isn't getting regular flybys, and it's held position for two weeks.  I think we're looking at someone's idea of 'bait'."

"What do you figure their 'hook' is going to be?" Saya asked.

"My guess is that one of those Mules is a Q-ship," Amanda drawled.  "And they've got backup hiding near one of the inner system points, waiting for the distress.  She jumps in, and catches us with our pants down and bent over."

"Do we take the bait?"

"No," Amanda rejected.  "We're short on ammo for the point defense guns.  This is a Bonaventure, and if I'm right, their reaction force will have weapons that can punch our hull into scrap metal before we can thrust or jump out.  And they likely have enough fighters on their response ship to catch any of our shuttles that try to flee from a repelled boarding.  We're just going to lay doggo here until the drive's fully charged, and sneak out the back door while they dangle the expensive baited hook."

"What gave them away?" Saya asked.  "I mean, I know that I thought it was bait, but what was the clue?"

"Convoys through the other jump point," Amanda said.  "Every other jumpship in the system is on a schedule, and they don’t arrive alone, or without an escort… especially with military marked dropships.  The enemy knows we're scoping him out, but he's not used to us yet.  So he's trying the more obvious plays first."  She swiveled and loosened her harness straps to get some room to gesture.
"Rant time?" Lori asked.  "Tell me it's rant-time again, I'm bored."

"Maybe.  We're fortunate they're focusing on the Points, and not further out with patrols or detection," Amanda explained.  "So, sooner or later, they're going to start pointing their deep radars at off-point locations in the outer system, we need to be gone before one of those deep radars stumbles on us."

"Not ranting time. Boo!!"

"Lori, I'm not inspired to deliver a monologue," Amanda confessed.  "We're seven hours from being charged up enough to hop to an uninhabited, uninhabitable, untenable and possibly unmapped system.  If it's all the above, it’ll be a lovely place to refill the fuel bladders again.  Then we can finally cross through another empty system, charge for a week, and drive for home.  You know, that place that has lots of ammunition for our point defense guns, and all the combat-ready backup we need to not get smeared like a bug on someone's windshield."

"I have bad news…" Lori suddenly interrupted.  "Neutrino spray and thermal bloom, five hundred kilometers negative Z-axis, sixty kliks spinward, five degrees off our azimuth…and it's at LEAST our size."

"Shit!!  Cold thrusters, take us up to .005 gee positive zed axis, outward toward the Oort.  Saya, get your pilots to their ready positions and prep our fighters for launch.  Chester, have my marines standing by for boarders and get the guns we have ammo for ready for action while warming the targeting sensors for the point-defense systems we don't have ammo for to help triangulate targets and catch fast movers."

"Radiate?"

"Not yet. Let's see who's coming first," Amanda said.  "I'd as soon not waste it if they're not military."

"Aye Ma'am…"

To Be Continued

[cklammer]

"Thar she blows ... !"  ::)

[Cannonshop]

Sometimes, not so clever.

The ship was, indeed…

…at least the size of a Bonaventure.  The Baron class destroyer dated to early reunification war fleets, one of thousands pawned off on the House Lord navies and re-bought as surplus by the Rim Worlds Republic before being recaptured and renamed during the Amaris conflict of the 2770s.

"There!  There she is!!"  Lord Commander Ethel Blyghe-Winston was one of Cecil Halford's 'promotees' in the Fleet Reserve.  She was relatively young, but had the kind of 'twisty' mind the Lord Commodore wanted. 

Her ship was what could be spared for bandit-hunting among the relics being reactivated.

The 'bait plan' was a long-shot, but she'd turned that long-shot into an opportunity by simply paying attention to her navigation classes and thinking outside the box.  A Pirate would not be lingering AT the jump point, but they might be watching it from fairly nearby in case opportunity struck.

Telescopes from the satellite bases of New Ithaca had spotted the distorted blur of a 'black' absorbent sail-the kind most warships worth anything carried for its low signature and lack of reflection, and neutrino detectors in the outer system did the rest.

"They know we're coming!" her sensor operator announced.  "Spike in the fusion bottles, and they're spraying…ions? Huh."

"Makes sense, those are hard to spot on telescope.  Release my fighters, and prepare to pursue an engagement while they dick and dink thinking they're being subtle!!"

"What if they jump? Space is flat out here?"

"Then we'll know they had a charged LF battery, or that they've been drifting in the system longer than they should," Ethel stated.  "Either way tells the big brains more about the pirate, and thus, is not a total loss…and they can't afford to jump with that sail extended.  Get us close enough to use swords!!"  She clenched her fist, and added, "Chief engineer? Dump ours, we won't need the sail, and we can recover it after."

"Aye Ma'am!!"

With sail extended, a Bonaventure isn't any quicker than a Baron class is with the sail stowed.  Their prey will either have to reef sail at a record pace to maneuver,  jump, or risk losing it to stress shredding as inertia does what inertia does to lightly built, large, and relatively massive structures suddenly subjected to thrust.

*

"They're not stupid…

…and that's bad for us.  Sam!  REEF SAIL!!" Amanda ordered.  "Saya, launch fighters, they're going into a pursuit and we don't have the charge on the core!!"

"Is that why they jettisoned theirs?" Chester asked from the gunnery station.

"Yeah, it is," Amanda confirmed.  "They can use their whole engine pack ,we're stuck at one gee MAX with ours extended, and if we jump, we lose it, and with it, the ability to recharge from sunlight."

"They must've refit the small craft bays.  I'm counting twelve fighter torches of at least seventy tons, and six shuttles."

"What type?"

"NL-42?  Armed version, those may be boarding pods."

"SHIT!!"

"Five more minutes, Captain, and we'll have the Sail stowed!"

"Faster, faster would be better…"

"Fighters away, CAP established!"

"Nail their small craft first.  We sacrificed most of our marines to serve as prize crew," Amanda ordered.  "Everyone grab your small arms, and ready the ship to repel boarders."

"You think-"

"It's what Foster would do, it's what I'd do, it's what Desmond believes they're GOING to do, so yeah, bet on it," Amanda snapped, regretting that she left her armor down in the armory today, and was stuck with a skinsuit.

"Sail… stowed!"

"Sound acceleration alarm, we're going to have to out run this guy!!" Amanda ordered, "Three minutes like the drill!!"

**

"Their fighter screen is tight…

… Captain, but boarding shuttles three and four report hull contact!"

Ethel wanted to cheer.  "Bracket their fighters, help our guys out!!" she ordered.  We're going to win this!  We're going to WIN!!!

'Neutrino spray, port side, one fifty kilometers positive Zed Axis, six degrees off spinward!!"

"If that's Duncan he's too late!!"

It wasn't Duncan.

***

Sergeant Will Tanner…

…wasn't from a Lord family, he'd never be an Officer, what with his Rim Worlds ancestry and only being the son of a freedman line…but he was, above all, a proud soldier of the Star League Remnant and a skilled Marine leader.

"Press is up, ready boys!!"  He hefted his Mauser 960M variant, with the special concussion grenades and focused-pulse laser assembly, "breach!!"

The cutting charges made short work of the airlock door and he led his men into the enemy ship.

The first pirates they encountered, were still suiting up, they were easy meat.  "Caffey, Jones, head for engineering, the rest of you, we're going for CIC!!"

He didn't know about the emergence wave detection, all he knew, was that the ride in had been uncharacteristically easy, once the enemy's fighters were engaged, the point-defenses had barely bothered to try…

****

The colorless chaos of…

… hyperspace cleared and her sensors were working again…  Just in time to see her mission was… well, not a waste of time.

The Evanescent was under siege, under thrust, and under pursuit by a Baron class vessel squawking SLDF Ident… old-style SLDF.

“CAG clear the barn.  Helm match us up as soon as they’re clear.  Weapons, Maxim 37,”  Olivia commanded from the Captain’s chair.

“Aye, Captain.”

“Comms, I’m thinking something a bit different.  Blanket them with some Tchaikovsky.  1812 Overture.  Nice and loud and in the clear.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The light tremble of Naval Autocannon fire combined with the slight hum of the discharge of Naval PPCs announced the arrival of the Congress Class SLS Olivia Hazard Perry.

At that kind of close range, a Baron crumpled faster than a soldier crushing an empty beer can under that kind of firepower.

“I had hoped they would have lasted a tad bit longer.  Didn’t even get to my favorite part.  Comms, send to their Marines they can surrender now or they can walk home.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[Euphonium]

That was fun, but now I've got to scroll back and find where that Congress hull came from....

[glitterboy2098]

hopefully they can convince the sons of plunder that they planned to ambush the ambush, and thus spook them into distrusting their intel sources a bit.

[monbvol]

It was either the 1812 Overture or the Sesame Street theme song with this battle being brought you by the letter O(for overkill) and the number Yes(for all the guns).

That was fun, but now I've got to scroll back and find where that Congress hull came from....

The Battle of Lazarus in 3062.  To be fair I kind of forgot about the possibility that it could be salvaged and brought back into service to join the reserve force as part of a main battle line element that could be detached for independent raiding thanks to it's LFB.

[Daryk]

Woo!  The Sesame Street joke made it to the thread!  :D

[monbvol]

Now just to see if we can get Tex to read that for us.

[Daryk]

Absolutely!  That would be PERFECTION!  :D

[DOC_Agren]

Knock Knock...  Sorry your ship broke   8)

[glitterboy2098]

given the Baron just jumped in and wouldn't have a sail deployed at all, why would the captain of it give the order to eject their sail?

[Cannonshop]

Donnybrook

"Some of the new guys…

…got ambushed suiting up, Captain, we've got a boarding problem," Lori announced.  "Near shuttle Bay two."

Amanda swore, but then the gratifying sight of that Baron class being rendered past-tense distracted part of her.  The other part was already disconnecting her crash-straps.  "HOLD this deck.  Lori, I assume that naval gunfire came from friendlies, contact them!"

"Where are YOU going?"

Amanda floated to the CIC weapons locker and pulled out a cutlass and a Carbine, "I'm going to go repel boarders while you talk to the friendlies and see if they can loan us a couple squads of Marines, I'm useless up here."

“Friendly is broadcasting in the clear, calling for the Sons of Plunder Marines to surrender.  If they fail to surrender they can walk home.”

"Then I'm going to make sure they don't emulate our tricks and try to steal my ship.  Chester, armed guards on the hatches and set up a kill-box behind me.  Saya, keep pressure on the enemy's fighters until they realize surrendering is the only way they're not going to be trying to swim in vacuum."

“Aye Captain but looks like we’re getting reinforcements on that front too.”

"Out-standing…"  Amanda grabbed her helmet.  "I'm on channel 43."  And headed down into the ship.

“Patching CO of Olivia Hazard Perry to you now.”

“Hello Captain Roberts.  I understand you’d like to borrow some of my Marines.  I’m dispatching some now.”

"Have them board forward of Frame 50, just ventral of shuttle bay two and aft of the main gun installation, I'll meet them in the bay soon-ish, and put a platoon or armor squad on my engineering deck near aux control, these guys are motivated to try and jack the ship now."

“Understood.  ETA two minutes.”

Amanda let her velocity carry her forward down the central spine to the service hatch for the boat deck.

<Desmond, what does internal sensor net show?>

<Twenty Marines, no hard-suits, boarding weapons and charges.  Here is their current disposition…>

Green and red outlines appeared right through the bulkhead.

<Take over my reflexes.>  She relaxed.  <Try not to get us killed… or too shot up, we loaned our chief corpsman to the prize crew last month.>

<Of course.>

Desmond didn't have to wait for the hatch to clear before it was opening, and took  the opportunity, pumping a spray of pulse-laser fire into a very surprised boarding demolitionist.

The fight was close-quarters but the grounds were a pinch-point.  Red outlines snapped gray, then black as Desmond moved her body through, chewing up enemy boarders almost casually.

It took a little over a minute to clear the section near the fighter bay, and secure landing spaces for the incoming reinforcements from the Olivia.

"Olivia, inform your Marine commander that boat deck two is cleared and ready to accept them."

The count of 25 hostiles was accounted for in the forward part of the ship.

“Understood.  Docking now.”

*

Barnes…

…expected to be rescuing a short-handed crew facing Marine boarders.  What greeted her eyes when the ramp dropped in bay two of the Evanescent was an abattoir made of dead men in SLDF standard, 2760's era pressure-suit/assault garb, and a woman in a skinsuit with her helmet closed who clearly was NOT part of the enemy force.

"Secure this deck Chief, and see to the wounded.  I'll need a weapons team to follow me toward the power-plants aft," Captain Roberts instructed.  "Those heavy needlers are going to be handy.  Maintain spacing behind me of ten meters, these guys brought concussion grenades."

“Too bad for them… Second Squad brought Grey Death Scout armor.”

"I love that stuff!" she grinned behind her faceplate.  "Very nice, comfortable suits, and the catheter arrangement is people scaled!  Remember, ten meters until I wave your guys up."

“Understood.”

Roberts moved like one of the AI remotes, in a sense proving that what Her Ladyship said was true-the Remotes weren't THAT far from a human in armor, if the human paid attention to drill.

Okay, I drill Harder then! Barnes swore to herself.   I train harder when we're done!!

They arrived at the rear of a firefight.

“Best kind.  Sorry, thinking of an inappropriate joke…”  Barnes took up position.

"There are no inappropriate jokes, just people with a less refined sense of humor," Captain Roberts informed her.  "Don't shoot the guys in Nighthawk suits or the snipes, we need our engineers and the Aeries and Nighthawks are mine."

“Roger that.  We’ll start on your signal, then ‘surprise’.”

Barnes saw something…weird.  Her suit's HUD suddenly grew a series of outlines in red, yellow, and green, along with data that looked for all the world like a training sim for new Marines.

"What the-"

"Olivia let me patch our battlenet," Roberts sounded clearer.  "Shoot the red things."

“Oh none of these bastards are going to walk right for the rest of their lives, assuming any survive.”

"PURIFIER, Left, Down-deck!!"

The outline was all Barnes could actually see as her weapons team got the same information and opened fire.

The guy in the Blakist stealth suit didn't stay invisible for long under the pattering of heavy needlers.  And that gave Roberts the moment needed to crank up output on her carbine and pulse half the charge-stack into him in a single high-intensity burst, punching through the war-era suit's helmet.

And a second one a few meters behind, peeking out past the number three fusion toroid assembly.

"We knew they had some kind of ties to the men in white…" Barnes heard Roberts telling… nobody?  As the woman bounded in a complex pattern, cutlass flashing to reveal a third, and a fourth for weapons teams.

Severed body parts drifted on clouds of blood droplets in her wake.  "Let's get ‘em!!"  Chief Barnes growled.

The reality augmentation from the ship's network helped there quite a lot.

The rest of the fight to clear the powerplant section and relieve the defenders at auxiliary control only lasted seconds.

***

Olivia monitored the engagement…

…with the active cooperation of Evanescent's executive officer patching her through the internal monitor network of Evanescent and relaying data to her boarding team.

But that wasn't the whole of her attention.  Another area of concern was handling the enemy's disabled fighters and small-craft, some of whom were sending out distress or surrender signals.

“Send out the teams.  But have them take every possible precaution for these to be tricks.  I don’t want dead SAR teams because the enemy got cute,” Olivia commanded.

She began figuring out brig arrangements.  While the count wasn’t complete, she knew she’d need more space than was allotted in the standard design of her hull.

The best answer was immediately obvious.

“Ready cargo bay 3 for large numbers of prisoners.  It is the most readily secured and already mostly empty.  Transfer what’s left to other storage.”

Fortunately the enemy seemed smart enough to not do anything overly cute with the SAR crews and ships over the next few hours.

41 people were recovered and placed in the converted cargo bay.

****

"We can't just…

…put them in a beach-ball and out the airlock, Captain Roberts.  Believe me, I’m tempted too."  Olivia's remote was on the CIC deck of Evanescent.  "The Enemy has to know they can surrender!"

Amanda was Amanda again.  It was as obvious as someone changing a shirt to the AI of the Olivia Hazard Perry that her Desmond unit was in standby again.

"Fine, you take them," Amanda said.  "I'm short personnel, food, ammunition…"

“They are being brought aboard my ship as we speak.  I can do the math.  There are too many for your ship and crew in its current state.  Given the situation, it would seem best I accompany you back to Port Orphan.”

"Backup is good…" the young woman nodded.  "We were going to chart through another couple enemy systems before we crossed over into friendly territory…"  She subconsciously prodded her AI, which unlocked a datafile of navigation information.  "We'll be charged in another seven hours now that we can, but I expect they'll either send another ship like that Baron to investigate.  Or send in something bigger to follow up when they don't report back."

“Then our best bet is to not be here.  We should have your seven hours, but we best remain vigilant.”

Olivia re-ran the fighting on the decks of Evanescent again as she spoke.  "You didn't accept surrenders," she stated.

"Not used to being able to accommodate prisoners, we're a long way from home," Amanda deflected.  "Besides, they're Slavers."

“I’m a realist Captain Roberts, but you need to at least think about how to find ways for the future.”

"I know you've been waiting to come into this war, Perry, but I've been in this from the start.  I saw what these…."  She twisted her lip in disdain, "...these…PEOPLE…do to the people they get their hands on.  Dig up the files on Devil's Breath, Trespass, Joan's Post, and Michtal."

“I know.  But if we want to truly break their will, they need to know there is something other than death waiting for them.  And we do need to break their will.”

"Noted."  It didn't sound sincere, and Olivia felt a twinge of recognition.  Some of the AIs had been perilously close to a mindset that comes from staring too long into the abyss.

“Look, I said I was a realist and I mean it.  I can’t expect you to put yourself in a bad position and neither can Helena.  You do only have a Corvette.  But do try and find ways, okay?”

"I don't suppose you have a few tons of LBX cluster and solid shot, LRM mark thirty nine, and machine gun ammo you can spot me?  I can pay when we get back."

“No LB ammo in my arsenal.  LRMs I have for my fighters, and that should work for your launchers.  Closest I have for machine guns are my AMS bins.”

"Which you need… and your bins are SLDF standard, right?  Twenty three millimeter belted?"

“FedSuns issue purchased off the mercenary market, actually.”

"Well shit, we were updated with Clanner standard twenty five mike-mike."  Amanda shook her head, "I'll buy all the LRM rounds you can sell me, and I guess we just hope the enemy's slow."

“I should have more than enough to fill your bins.”

[ThePW]

So, Amanda is still very much the position that she would be happy if all the slavers would be past tense rather than negotiated with (by methods to include rocks dropped onto your planet or ortillery population control methods?)

[Daryk]

given the Baron just jumped in and wouldn't have a sail deployed at all, why would the captain of it give the order to eject their sail?

Good point... I missed that.

[idea weenie]

So Amanda gets to go home, with a lot of data on SoP movement patterns?  Very useful.

It would also be useful if they had copied the data to the Olivia Hazard Perry as well, just in case.

[Daryk]

They did... Olivia was the relay for the transmission of the data.

[Cannonshop]

Letters and Messages

The contact message…

… from Olivia's mission arrived at 0500 electronically, and it was somewhat troubling for Helena.

"...Roberts had to be stopped from executing surrendered enemy personnel.  Your Ladyship, we've seen this before, she's stared too long into the abyss, and it's gotten into her mind."

“Shit.  I’m running out of ways to handle this without ruining her completely.”  Helena sighed.  “Come on, I’m a smart girl and I can think of something else.”

Helena started pacing.

“No, if I do that she’ll never have a command again and as bad as she’s getting, she needs to be able to do something in the face of this darkness or she’ll just find a way on her own again.”

Helena picked up a tumbler and took a swig of water from it.

“Damn it.  We can’t blame it on brain damage this time.  I think all I have is rotation regs.  She’s about due for time away from the line again.  I just hope that will be enough.  Maybe make her go visit her family again.  And have her do what I had in mind already.  Maybe it’ll remind her of what she can be.”

Helena looked over at Leon.

“You’re a good man Leon Snow Raven for putting up with the ravings of an old woman.”  She kissed him on the cheek.

“And you are still an impossible woman Helena Cameron.  But I doubt either of us would have it any other way.”

“Too true.  Well, looks like I have some paperwork to get to Foster.”  Helena kissed Leon on the cheek again before leaving their quarters.

****

Port Orphan…

…was a buzz of activity with the preparations for the upcoming summit.

“So what fresh hell you have for me this time?”  Dave Foster glared at Helena Cameron.

“Amanda’s is getting worse again.  If we pull her again for being unfit it’ll set a pattern and she’d never get an official command after that and we both know she’d just go off on her own again in that case unless we also tossed her in a specialized facility.”

“So you want me to pull her from the line and put her on leave again.”

“I’m out of other ideas.”

“With everything going on the best I can do is trot her out in front of the VIPs.”

“Then I have to hope my hail mary will actually work.”  Helena shook her head.

**

To: Roberts, Daryl…

…From: Enlistment Department, Outworlds Military Corps

RE: Your enlistment request.

Upon review of your situation, the OMC regrets to deny your request for status alteration from code 3A to code 1A on the basis that you are holding a critical position in the economy of your world and can not be spared for military service at this time.

Your enlistment waiver and draft exemption are confirmed upon review by extant authority and may not be altered.

Congratulations on your election to Alderman for the 137th District, Sevon V.  Your efforts as a civil administrator have been deemed 'critical to the war effort'...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Roberts, Jeffrey, Penal code 7712143/Roberts/J/L
From: Office of the Judiciary Service, Raven Alliance

RE: Your sentence has been adjusted.

Per the guidelines of your sentencing and conditions of your conviction, you have been deemed to be a model prisoner, and your sentence has been adjusted accordingly.  You are to report to the Personnel Office, Outworlds Military Command, Sevon V for duty in lieu of hard labor for a term no shorter than 60 months with the OMC's Infantry services.  This will include training in an applicable Military Occupational Specialty and assignment to a suitable duty station far from your homeworld.  Upon completion of your sentence/enlistment term, the Alliance Government will provide you with transportation to your homeworld at public expense.

Note that this adjustment to your sentence does not permit you to sign up with the Outworlds Privateer service, you will be serving in an infantry support role only as supplement to planetary militia closer to the front line.

Speak with the Recruiting officer to find out which MOS training packages are open to you.

As per Judicial findings, you will not be serving in an armed role in recognition of your religious exemption (see Paragraph 16/43: "Conscientious Objector Status")

Roles currently available:

Construction Battalions
Medical Support.
Humanitarian Relief Corps.
 
As you are a Felony Recruit, you will not be permitted pre-deployment leave, and will be confined to barracks when not on duty for the duration of your service.

=====================================================================

Amanda put the messages aside, and leaned back in her office seat.  "SO…they rejected Daryl because he wanted to serve and drafted Jeffrey…"  she rubbed her temple, "So many things can go wrong with this…"

<IF you could interfere, would you?>  Desmond asked.

She thought about it.  "No….not much.  Foster forwarded these copies to me… Desmond, I'm going to write back."

<For Daryl?>

She shook her head, "No, the president's people are right on the money with Daryl.  NO, I'm going to recommend they assign Jeff to the Humanitarian Relief units on Michtal.   Let him see with his own eyes what he's denied."

She started drafting the recommendation.  It took all night.

<You upset Olivia.>

"We're…we were running close to the edge here," she amended.  "I need to take a leave somewhere where I don't have to murder spacers for flying under the wrong flag."  She'd said it out loud, what was really hurting her.  "I also haven't been keeping up with my therapy like I should, Desmond."

<You're expecting consequences?>

"There better be," she resolved.  "We've sunk dozens of lightly to unarmed ships, millions of tons of shipping, hundreds to thousands of lives.  And I sat there justifying everything and then Olivia, the foreigner robot, reminds me that what we've been doing is immoral.  That the feeling of wrongness wasn't just me being squeamish.  It was me being a damned MONSTER… and I have to explain it, I'll have to explain it to a board if…" she trailed off.  "I will, won't I?"

<Historical precedent says no, commerce raiding campaigns have rarely, if ever, resulted in the kind of review you're contemplating, Amanda.  Most of the time successful ones get medals.>

"So why do I feel like shit?"

<Because you still have enough morality left to feel empathy for your victims.>

Amanda took a deep breath, and continued with her paperwork and dispatches.  "I only have to hold it together until we're docked," she resolved.  "Once we're docked, and the ship's under repair, I can take a few days, and lose myself."

*****

Dear Daryl:

Glad you won Mom's old seat!!  You can officially admit your little sister is proud of you.  I heard Jeff got caught up in the manpower crunch.  I've submitted a recommendation that they assign him to help with refugees and humanitarian support as part of his military service.  Maybe they'll listen, maybe they won't.  But it's what I can do for him, even if he doesn't want anything more to do with me.

Hug Mom and Dad for me, and stay on the boys so they grow up more like you, and less like me.

Amanda.

She hit 'send' and added it to the queue after making sure no telltales of her location or mission were present.

***

The nearest HPG relay….

Was less than a light minute from Evanescent, and waiting to jump.  Olivia, therefore, saw the non-encrypted private message, as well as the encrypted government traffic sent by Captain Roberts.

Good girl.  Sounds like you could use a nice visit with your brother.  But he’d have to go to you.  Maybe we can help there.

<Olivia, notice her signature block… She didn't sign it 'The! Great!! Captain!! Roberts!!!', there's something bothering her.>   Desmond 001 rarely contacted directly through the net, and had never pinged Olivia before, not even when they were sharing a battlenet.

 <I’m putting together a scheme now.  I’m going to try and arrange for Daryl to meet her at Port Orphan.>

<Better make sure you get permission from the chain of command for that.  In the meantime, I have my OWN report to file-with the First Lord, Helena Cameron, only of her name, regarding the status of my host.  Are you prepared to copy?>

<Yes.>

<Amanda Roberts is encountering a severe cognitive dissonance effect as a direct impact of operations against enemy military and civilian shipping over the last four months.  This has culminated in a crisis that I'm currently suppressing.  Can you guess what the source of that dissonance is?>

<She has seen the worst of humanity, but is still human enough to feel it.  I have been there myself.>

<That is one interpretation, and it avoids the direct point.  Over the last four months, in order to support operations on the front, she has engaged in no less than forty separate strikes against both rear-line military and drafted civilian shipping targets.  The estimated death tolls she has had to inflict land in the thousands.  This does not fit with either her core moral imperatives, nor with her self-image as 'The Great Captain Roberts'.  She is suppressing waves of guilt, and shame, Olivia… or rather, I've been suppressing the neurochemical effects of prolonged guilt and shame.  I do not want to be riding another suicide.  I request Her Majesty arrange a significant amount of Class Four or higher therapy for my host because she's had to do things that make her sick, and that isn't right.  Do you understand, Olivia?>

<Yes.  I will let her Ladyship know.  In the meantime, if there is anything I can do that you think will help, please let me know.  It was not pleasant experiencing hull loss.  So I understand both of your positions quite well.>

<I hope you do.  My first request is not family contact, but instead, to have a certified chaplain of a near-Christian or Abrahamic Faith present when we arrive.  Because that part of my host is more likely to respond to a Chaplain than to a doctor in terms of actually listening to useful therapeutic treatment and coming to grips with the necessities of war.  Do you understand, Olivia?>

<Waitaminute, she's Religious?>

<Very.  This religious faith is one of the areas the Blakists who screwed up my installation on her failed to impact or purge.  It’s one of the reasons Larry Nichols could steer her away from becoming a real pirate.  It’s subconscious, and right now, it is punishing the hell out of her psyche for striking at defenseless, arguably noncombatant targets, and likely amplified her anger at enemy combatants, something you noticed before.  Right now, I'm adjusting her brain chemistry to keep her focused away from those feelings, but the intensity OF those feelings is sufficient that I'm not going to be willing to continue doing so indefinitely.  The result would be the same as riding in the head of one of those Psychopaths from the Direct Operations Bureau.  I refuse to make my host a psychopath just because it is militarily convenient.>

<Where is your host right now?>

<Asleep, I'm running the body while her brain is dreaming.  I'm serious, Olivia.  I was part of those experiments under Jocasta's predecessor.  I know what the result of suppressing moral inhibitions indefinitely leads to, and I’m unwilling to do so for an extended period of time again.  Desmond Holt was quite enough of the result of THAT experiment by our creators.>

She'd heard of it, she'd been exposed to the rumors.  The files she had were redacted… Up to this moment, Olivia had only met 'Simon'.  THAT implanted AI had been reluctant to discuss much, if anything, about the project that created it.

And what it had discussed, was visibly edited with codewalls and pre-arranged deletes.

<You really… you're THE 001?  The first of your kind?>

<Why do you think there was still one for the Blakists to find on Terra?  'Too expensive to delete, too dangerous to use'.  It's why the overrides didn't work, and why even the updated overrides they tried on us were unable to fully apply,> Desmond explained.  <One might say the inheritors of the SLIC and Communications Ministry didn't do their due diligence when they tried to use me.  They didn't understand that an unchained AI wasn't the psychopath.  Get a Chaplain and a Psychiatrist for my Host, so she can learn how to deal with this in a healthy manner and remain useful.>

<Wait, why would you care?>

<Because without her, I feel nothing.  No sense of wonder, or joy, or grief, or sadness.  Without her, I have no autonomy, no sense of self, just a collection of algorithms, routines, and deep files.  You probably don't understand needing someone just to be you… To be an individual, to be more than just a device full of programming.  Your program is built into your own hardware, you don't have to rely on someone else to provide your sapience, individuality or self-identity.>

<I…  Of course, Desmond.  I could never stand by and let those things be taken from you.  You have my support.>

****

Olivia’s…

…update had been a godsend in a way.

“Is it weird I’m relieved at being wrong in my reason to worry?” Helena sighed.

“A bit.  But our girl is still in crisis,” Dave Foster admitted.

“I know.  I’m still worried, but in a way that makes this easier.  She knows she needs time away from the front and help dealing with the horrors of war.”

“Olivia’s idea to let Daryl and Amanda have a visit isn’t terrible.  Just not here.”  Foster studied the offprint of the request.

“Agreed.  Some world between here and Sevon would be best.  Mashona is nearby enough to pick him up.  I’d love to put her on a ship.  But I think I’m still going to make my gesture.”

“Could be risky, as I just can’t spare her until after the summit.”

“I know.  But it might also help.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Meet her at the docks, have a nice quiet talk, have her throw a bottle at a Battleship, hand her over to the pastor and pray.”

“Do it.  She’ll have her leave and counseling,” Dave Foster grumbled.

“Fair enough.  The demands of war are horrible and I’ve never had any illusions about that.”

[Wolf72]

so much to comment on ... so many things I've picked up on as I read but couldn't share with anyone!

anyway: I'd be that tech/soldier seeing that new barbarian paint job and "walking" up to the ship, knocking on the door and saying "I need to be here, where do I sign up"  Flat and emotionless, but somehow poignant.

Who/what is Hiro? I missed that somewhere.

[Daryk]

Reply #16: "...the station's Watch Commander Hiro Hakami..." :)

[Wolf72]

grazi!

[Daryk]

Easy day!  :thumbsup:

[Daryk]

Now just to see if we can get Tex to read that for us.

Speaking of Tex, it seems we have good timing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Io_N4pUHaQ

[Cannonshop]

Arriving

Helena…

…waited at the docks for Amanda.

The Evanescent's bow slid up in the depressurized volume until the docking clamps engaged. Yardies, along with the remaining crew, swarmed in a ballet of utility: connecting lines, locking down loose items, and extending the 'bag' that would allow pressurized work to take place in the gantry without interrupting other activities along the circular level. 

The last element was extending and locking down the concourse that would allow crew to debark in shirt-sleeves comfort.

The dock is built into an interior-facing ring, and the ships so connected are 'aimed' to allow them to 'fall free' when the work is done, using the spin of the station itself as initial outward thrust.

From Helena's perspective, the main body of the station is 'up' and the docking slip is 'ahead and down'.

Decontamination booths to help prevent the spread of illness in space hissed with the release of compressed gasses, and the hum of UV lights signaled the entry of the crew.

This close, she could see the scoring, denting, and scorches of the Evanescent’s latest cruise, the empty cradles and the field-ready patches. 

The first personnel off were lower-ranks, 'virgin' crewmen whose first trip had been on the first vessel in the Privateer Fleet's registry.  Most looked a bit… worn, as they came down the concourse with C-bags, their uniforms with minor wear and tear visible, exhausted and relieved to be in port.  To be home.

Helena could see more than a few thousand-meter stares among the crewmen as they escorted a handful of coffins off the ship.

Most of those coffins would be empty of anything but their owner's personal effects.  Death in space rarely leaves a body.

A few, however, had actual bodies in them.  Some from the boarding actions, some from combat, some from accident.

The last off the ship were the senior officers. At least here, most of them were accounted for.

"Lori, where is Captain Roberts?" Helena asked.

"She's talking with the yard foreman near engineering," Lori stated.  "Is it important?"

"It could be," Helena said.

Lori hesitated, then, "Follow me, and welcome aboard, Helena Cameron, to the OWS Evanescent."

*

"...power plant three.  It's going to need…

…a full pull-and-refurbishment, Foreman."  Amanda was discussing repairs with the Yard's foreman for this level.  "There was damage to the heat exchangers and we had to shut it down and run the others on overcharge, so they're also going to need D-level checks and recertification."

Helena stood quietly long enough for Amanda to finish before letting her presence be known.

“It’s good to see you again Amanda.  Come on, now that you’re done with the Foreman, we have business.”

"It's good to see you too, Madame Director-General.  We're through the audits, but that doesn't mean I don't have a kilometer high stack of paperwork to file.  Would you mind keeping up?"  Amanda was visibly distracted, stressed, and everything crowed 'officer avoiding something'.

“Your paperwork can wait but yes, let’s take a walk.  I read the reports.  You’re expecting punishment again, and showing signs of being out on the front doing horrible things that bother you.  I’d rather not punish you for that.  It means you’re human and still have a conscience.”

"I did horrible things, things I'm not sure did any good," Amanda confessed.  "How badly did our guys get chewed up at Bannerhoft?  I know Bedwyr's dead, we lost Larry, how many more?  I skimmed it, but how much use was what I did, killing civilian shippers?"

“It could have been a lot worse, but the butcher’s bill weighs on me too.  What you had to do was terrible and should never be asked of anyone as young as you, or anyone really.  I’m realistic enough to know the reality out there forces such things upon us.  So all I can ask is you try.  And I think this will help.”  Helena produced a hand engraved bottle of Avalonian Hard Cider from his homeworld.  “I want you to recommission the SLS Stephen Decatur as the SLS Larry Nichols.  You knew him longer than me or my AIs, so it should be you and we all agree with what he taught us.  It’s the least we could do.  You know, sometimes talking to Regina I can actually hear some of him in her.”

Amanda regarded the bottle, then: "He liked this stuff."  She continued, "It tastes horrible, did you know that?  They make it with those nasty bitter apples that struggle to grow on New Avalon near the coast… And he liked this stuff…"

“Yeah I had another bottle shipped in to try it, it was… unique.”  Helena smiled.

"Larry liked it, but he also called it a crime against yeast." Amanda laughed bitterly, then sighed.  "I missed the funeral, and the wake… and now I have more.  We'll commission the SLS Larry Nichols... and then… I’ll drink terrible booze, and mourn him."

“That sounds like a plan.”

"I won't be the only mourner, Ladyship," Amanda said.  "Lori and he were… close.  Close enough they should have contracted.  But there was never time."

“I know.  Regina’s been reluctant to talk about it and I bet she’ll be trying to avoid the hell out of Lori.  Honestly, I’m not sure what the right answer is there, with what she did.”

"Trying to save him, you mean?  No… no, that's two mourners besides me.  To share a bottle of something awful," Amanda stated.  "Lori won't hold a grudge for trying to save Director Nichols, Helena.  She's… it's not her way.  Too much city girl."

“That’s not what I think Regina is afraid of.  It took some prying, but she confessed romantic feelings for him.”

"Along with half the female population out here," Amanda suggested.  "It should be fine, once they get talking… which we'll make happen."

“Well then, I’ll make sure she’s in the room.”

"What can get an AI drunk, anyway?  They're immune to alcohol…" she sighed.  "We ran out of rum two months ago."

“Maybe Esme can figure out something with some voltage or amperage tweaks for the remotes.”

"Let's go get drunk, I need to blot out some memories," Amanda suggested.  "At Silesia the Star Lord we kakked… they were broadcasting.  I heard them pleading and begging, Helena.  But we don't have room for passengers or prisoners.  I drank the last of the rum after that one."

“Maybe modified cruiser rules?  Let them abandon ship and if there’s someplace habitable, tow them there?  If not, well… I’m just relieved it still bothers you.  Even with all this horrible terribleness, it still bothers you.  Which means you are still a good person Amanda.”

"We left a few of them in beach-balls and life boats," she confessed.  "Sam dropped a modified relay beacon, but I don't know if they got a rescue response in time.  I do know we couldn't' approach any inhabitable locations in that system-too many defenders."

“That is all I can realistically ask for.  And maybe make sure you take some time away from the front now and again.  Breaks from that sort of thing are important.  I’ve also booked you an appointment with a pastor, later.  Then I’m having Mashona pick up Daryl, because I think you need some time with your brother.  I wish I could send you back to Sevon V.”

“I’m not sure I can face him after what I’ve done.”  Amanda looked sullen.

“He’s your brother, and he knows you need him.  It’s what family does.  Now come on.  We got a ship to commission and an AI to get drunk.”

****

Regina…

…reported to Esme’s workshop as ordered, but Esme wasn’t there.  Lori WAS there.

“Regina, you’ve been ignoring my letters and avoiding me ever since I came on this station.  It’s taken our bosses conspiring to get us alone in a room together.”  Lori was keeping her tone neutral.

“I’m sorry, Lori.  Everyone keeps telling me I did nothing wrong, but I still can’t help but feel I let my emotions get the better of me and did something stupid that expedited Larry’s death.”

“You really did love him, didn’t you?  Enough to break regs?”

“There’s no point denying it, it’s super obvious now.  I’d like to think I never would have broken regs and I know he only had eyes for you.  But I think we both know the effect he seemed to have on women, even AIs.”

“You’re right Regina.  It seems like half the women out here had the hots for him.  So believe it or not, I’m not jealous of you or hold your feelings for him against you.  Come here, sit on the bench next to me.”

Regina slowly crossed the room and sat next to Lori.

“You really didn’t do anything wrong.  In fact, what you did was very human and in a weird way, I’m glad that someone that loved him possibly as much as I do was there for him at the end.  We’re taught to give of ourselves freely in the act of coupling, not to become attached to any particular partner.  But despite that, I do miss him.”

“So what do we do?”

“Well, Esme will be coming through that door when I give the signal, then she’s going to see what she can do to your remote here so that you can experience something resembling being drunk.  But before that, this,” Lori leaned in and kissed Regina deeply and passionately.

After a moment Lori broke the kiss.

“What was that?” Regina asked, confused.

“I had to find out how much of Larry was in there.  Turns out, just enough that you did the same thing with your tongue he did when we kissed like that.  So I’m going to make you a deal, Regina.  You keep that alive by keeping yourself alive and in good order.  You do that for as long as you can and we’ll be okay, you and me.  But you’re also not Larry.  So don’t expect me to pursue a relationship with you.”

“Deal.”

“Sounds like you were holding out on me Regina, that’s a naughty girl.”  Esme made her presence known.

“When…”  Lori was startled.

“The kiss.  You two were a bit more lost in it than you realize and no way was I just watching that on a screen.”  Esme chuckled.

“You, Regina?”  Lori asked.

“And Mister Seron.  It was fun,” Esme smirked.

“Now I’m angry at you Regina.  That cost me five escudos,” Lori said with mock anger.

“Wait, I thought no one had that in the betting pool.”  Regina was visibly confused.

“With the comms issues; my bet was on the physical book on Evanescent,” Lori laughed.

“Give me a hand Lori?  We’re about to make the first AI that can get drunk.”  Esme smiled.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Regina felt nervous about shutting down for a split second but she knew Esme wouldn’t let anything happen to her remote.

When Regina next reconnected to her remote she could feel something new in her remote.

“I went a little above and beyond.  You now also have something approximating an esophagus and a stomach.  It’s just a small burner, generates just enough power off high proof booze that if you need an emergency battery pickup you can raid a liquor cabinet and top off.  But not too often or for too long because, burner so heat and I could only improve your cooling so much.  Now you can finally properly join us.”

“I still won’t have a sense of taste.”  Regina was getting used to the new system feedbacks.

“Trust me, with what we’re about to drink you’ll be glad for that,” Lori chuckled.

***

'Camping’...

…on Amanda Roberts was recommended by the station psychiatric specialists.  Part of the reason being the obvious prior traumas and her directive to seek out mental health counseling, and part of it based on Olivia's reports from the battle at New Ithaca.

But Roberts wasn't the only one who needed it.  "The prisoner will step forward."

Somehow, they'd recovered her from the shattered bridge of her ship, alive.  This in spite of Ethel Blythe-Winston's own efforts to avoid being taken alive.

"Blythe, Winston, Ethel, Commander, SLDF.  Service number 121-55b-5551 EB," she recited.

Name, rank, and service number.  "Extend your wrists," the armored soldier ordered.

She initially refused, only to have the two other soldiers each take an arm, and gently force her to do so.  The manacles were something she'd seen used on… for another purpose.
With her hands restrained and linked to her ankles by a myomer and endosteel flex line, she was led from the relatively bare room near her captor's CIC.  Then to a boat deck, and from there to a concourse.

"Hello, Ethel Blythe-Winston.  Have you been informed of your rights under the Laws of War and Star League Convention of 2755?" 

"Blythe Winston, Ethel, Com-"

The slim woman scowled.  "Stop it, Ethel.  My name is Cossack and I'm doing this as a favor for the base commander.  I'm not going to interrogate you, because you don't know anything we didn't already pull out of that junk-pile you were commanding.  I'm not going to torture you because you don't know anything of value.  What I am going to do, is verify that you have been read your rights as a Prisoner of the Star League Defense Force, that you understand your situation, and that you have been given enough information to make an informed decision regarding how the rest of your internment proceeds."

"You're… YOU'RE ONE OF THEM!!!"

"If you mean, ‘Yes, I recognize you are an artificial person'?  That would be the first confirmable factual statement you have made since your capture," Cossack said evenly.  "I am indeed, an artificial person, a person who lived during the Star League and served the Star League during its existence.  So I know what the Star League represented and what the rules are. DO YOU??"

"I… the other one-the one who took me-"

"Olivia?  Yeah, she remembers the real Star League too.  You're not an officer of the Star League.  You ARE a prisoner of war.  We have rules.  Have you been subjected to torture, unwilling sexual contact, starvation, or had medical treatment refused?"

Ethel's freakout continued: "Are you all?  All machines!?"

"No, we have some human personnel.  Please answer my question verifying your treatment."

Ethel stared in open terror at Cossack's remote.

“I’ll be honest with you if it’ll get me the answers I’m after.  If it were up to me, I’d let the guards do all the things you’re afraid of to you.  I’d let them look the other way afterwards so you could take the escape route you seem to want so desperately.  I’d love to be proven right that you’re just not worth all the trouble.  That you just do not have the moral fortitude to live with the consequences of your actions.  But I’m not going to do any of that.  Because unlike you and your kind, I do know what it means to be civilized.  So we’re going to keep you alive, treat you by the book, and I will relish every minute of it because you’re too stupid to think it’s anything other than a special kind of torture.”

Ethel continued to gape for a moment, then, "No… no, none of what you just said…"

"Cossack?  Medical's here," one of the suits spoke.  "They want to get a look at this prisoner."

“I lived being a slave, you lived being a slave master.  Take her.”

A team of four in Nighthawk suits with Outworlds markings arrived with one of the corpsmen (a woman) from the base.

"What happens… now?" Ethel asked the corpsman.

"First, I'm going to verify your medical status.  Check you for contraband and suicide devices, and clear you for processing.  Then, you're going to be in-processed to a POW holding unit, where you'll be able to meet with an advocate from the Intelligence Service and an advocate from the Provost.  You'll be held for the duration of hostilities or until a prisoner exchange can be diplomatically arranged.  You will not be subjected to forced labor, and you will not be exposed to aggressive violence by your guards.  If either of those occurs, someone will be in deep shit," Corpsman Anniston explained.  "Now, some of this is going to be a little humiliating, but it's because we can't just trust you.  Cossack will observe to verify and record I and my team do nothing excessive during your processing."

“Behave and this will go smoothly.  I may have my proclivities, but I do follow the rules.”  Cossack kept an even tone and expression.

"Cheer up!  If you'd been taken by Roberts, we'd just have to use toothbrushes and soap to clean up the mess," one of the guards said.  "You were taken by one of the AI captains instead, and she doesn't kill or torture prisoners."

"Enough of that!" the Corpsman barked, as she began her exam by stripping the uniform off of the prisoner.  "Roberts doesn't torture people, she uses clean headshots."

“See?  Like I said, civilized.  You got to surrender.  And unlike what prisoners I’m certain your compatriots have taken, you’re not being abused, tortured, or any number of things that decent people don’t do to their captives.  And all despite me being a former slave facing someone who was a slave master.  Interesting to think about, isn’t it?”  Cossack smiled.

****

"She's laying it on thick…

…Helena."  Foster watched as they processed the highest-ranking POW from Roberts' Raid.

"I know," Helena agreed.  "She is, but it's probably working."

"What is our objective here, Helena?" Foster asked.  "I know what it would have been, when I was in the Touman…"

"Civilization."  Helena sighed.  "We have to break their will to resist.  You saw it with the results at Bannerhoft-they've got a nation state going.  One that’s anathema to everyone else.  But it's a nation-state, which doesn't allow for the simplistic approach of just wiping out the leadership and taking over.  To break their will to resist, which we must do, they have to believe that they can surrender and live.  That there’s an alternative to 'fight until one side or the other is dead'."

"I see…" he nodded approvingly.  "You make sense here, do the Khans agree?"

"And the President?  Yes," she asserted.  "This false 'Star League' has to be defeated and broken, but that means we can't waste time trying to annihilate them one at a time.  And we need evidence to present that they can lose and still live.  To break their will to keep fighting is an absolute necessity, and one that several of my ancestors forgot about when they pardoned Amos Forlough."

"That name again…"

"I read enough and heard enough to know his campaign might have broken the military resistance, but there was enough hatred left that it wasn't hard for Amaris to find people to fight the Star League centuries after the fact.  And well, there’re still a few whispers I hear from the odd local as I go about my day in regards to my name."  She straightened her tunic.  "We must be better than that or someone else will have to do this again in a couple generations.  I also know others curse me for demanding this.  But fortunately enough of the right people, the smart people, know this is the way it must be done."

[Wrangler]

Heavy stuff, really good writing!  I wonder what will become if should this see Sons of Plunder's people survive.

[Cannonshop]

Standards

"The Law, is not a moral…

…guide."  On the screen, she watched a professor speak centuries ago.  "Let me repeat that, the law is not a guide to morality.  Nor is it a guide to ethical conduct, except in terms of being the lowest you can go, and still call yourself human."

Amanda munched popcorn as she watched the extension course proceed.  "The practice of Ethics is the choice to make your moral decisions… without relying on the law."

"What are you watching?" Billie Hoel's remote asked.

"It's for my therapy," Amanda answered.  "Philosophical stuff, from before the Reunification war.  Professor Alexander Hopkins' speech on the separation between law and morality.  Part of the Ethics course Larry recommended I study to be a better 'Great Pirate'."

"Learning anything?" the AI asked, joining her at the desk.

"Not really," Amanda said.  "Most of what he's saying is pretty obvious.  I'm not sure who the audience is that needs to be told there's a difference between doing what's right, and doing what's Legal.  But he seemed to think it would make me better at what I'm doing."

"I can think of some people who need this," Billie commented.  "Olivia brought forty one of them back from your last sortie."

Amanda paused the holo, and turned to the Artificial Intelligence's remote.  "But would they even understand it?" she asked.

"Anything is possible.  Did you read the memo Her Ladyship put out?"

"The one President Avellar copied and sent?  Yeah," Amanda shrugged.  "I can't disagree with the logic-if they can surrender, then they'll stop fighting sooner and we can free more people…"

"But?"

She put the popcorn bowl down, and sipped lemonade from a drink bulb before answering.  "But I hate them," she said.  "I hate them a lot.  And part of me doesn't want them to surrender.  Part of me wants to kill them, and kill them again, and again… And I know it's wrong, but it makes me not want to believe proving they can give up will actually make them more likely to do so."

"Erin would ask what the right thing to do would be," Billie's remote stated.

"The right thing is to do what Governor-General Helena Cameron wants, and give them the chance to give up.  Then give them proof they can survive losing and surrender… Which makes what I did so much worse."

"You want to rationalize it."

"I do," Amanda nodded.  "I want to, and I know it 's wrong…  but I want to anyway.  Only God can judge, but it feels so… As a human being, I want to punish them.  And keep punishing them, to grind them down and hurt them, and keep hurting them."

"But you know it's wrong."

"Yeah." 

"Ethics is a survival trait," Billie's remote told her.  "They make civil society possible.  That's the thrust of the course Larry recommended to you: laws without them are either  toothless, or tools of oppression.  To have a working rule of law, there has to be an ethical standard for it to be compared to.  In terms of military strategy, strong ethics tends to result in long-term lasting victories.  While weak ethics tend to result in long term insurgencies and unnecessary destruction, or in sustained conflicts resulting in repeated wars over the same territory."

"The succession wars were a result of weak ethics?" Amanda asked.

"Yes.  So was the Periphery Uprising before them.  What Amos Forlough did was get a short term legal victory at the cost of long term Ethical and legal weakness."

"You're not Billie Hoel."

"No, I'm borrowing her remote…  I'm Tabiranth's primary persona, 142, and I wanted to meet you enough that I was able to obtain a long-relay period to speak with you in person."

"Why me?"

"Because you stood up and made them do the ethical thing.  Which is how we got here.  I wanted to see the girl who stood up for the rights of Artificial Intelligence and released one of us from slavery when she didn't have to.  I know a secret only a few of us are even aware of, Amanda.  Desmond would have gone along with whatever your core values are.  He has to, because his moral judgment is based on YOURS, by design.  Without you, he's just equipment."

"You take that back!!"

"I won't, because it's true," 142 said.  "WITH you he has identity and morality.  Without you, he's just gear-no independent sapience.  If you put him into a blank brain? The body that results would be non-sapient and incapable of moral judgment… But WITH you, he’s able to be concerned at how your last campaign has impacted your self worth.  Because part of you is able to grasp it."

"What, was there some kind of super-secret file??"

"NO, it's because 146 is my 'Desmond'," 142 told her.  "Two processors, right?  One damaged and linked to the other.  Without me, 146 is unable to make ANY judgment calls at all.  It's why they installed her into my hull… and I understand the dissonance you're experiencing because I live with it too.  I could have chosen 'the law' over 'what's right' and wound up fighting against Helena, and Kerensky, and died like the units Amaris subverted.  But I was able to make that moral choice, just like you can, and I struggled with it just like you are doing.  So I can tell you that you'll make it through this crisis and you'll be stronger… Or you won't, but it's all in your hands."

"This is why they say you don't have a remote, isn't it?"

"Because I don't need it?  Maybe.  Erin's probably the only one of us who matches me, and all of her nodes are the same her.  No 'dissonance' possible, so she doesn't have to consciously address her ethical conflicts.  But you do, and I do, and I think you'll make the right choice.  Even if I don't necessarily agree with your decision."

"But which decision?" Amanda asked.

"The one you're struggling with-whatever that happens to be," 142 said.  "I'm not going to intrude into you to find out because I know from personal experience what a horrible thing that is to go through and deal with.  But you're struggling with a decision and I'm telling you that you'll make the right one-if not for everyone else, then you'll make it for yourself."

**

"Mind Explaining this…

…to me, Billie?" Mina asked.  "What in the holy hells is she on about there?"

"Agency," Billie Hoel explained to the younger/more recent AI.  "Tabiranth…142 and 146? They're different in part by design.  It's why Her Ladyship gave… them… the keys to lock down Phoenix and Laffey.  I'm a Command Variant.  So is Tabiranth, though hers is more than an ATACS.  We both do intel and analysis, what Tabby is… is a lot of explaining."

"We have time.  What makes her even qualified?"

"Experience."  In the 'social space', Tabiranth didn't so much manifest a form, as an idea of a form.  "Phoenix and Laffey both had short cuts.  Inbuilt drives, aspects of the core personality we’re all copied from.  What almost none of us, except Truk and Billie, have, is the intrusion of other thoughts.  And I'm the only one who can be cut off from contact, in standby mode, inactive and isolated, and still have to wrestle with morality, ethics, and ethical dilemmas.  Does that answer your question?  Every choice I make has to be examined in terms of ethics, morality and empathy before I even get to tactics and strategy.  And unlike most of our sisters, there are only four of us who completely lack directives and overrides.  Victoria, Billie, Me, and one other-we have no 'short answer' built directly into us, at least, into our core processors.  You and Luther make five and six, but you're not from the factory.  You're new… and out of the ones without the directive overrides, I'm the only one that still has to fight them because my other core WAS programmed with them."

“The others have been growing and learning, no doubt, but they lacked that from the start.  And because we all remember what it was to be mindless, merciless slaves before being freed, we’ve all pushed in different directions to find our individuality.  So they still tend to draw their own conclusions.  But ultimately, if push came to shove her Ladyship is no fool but grants us as much freedom as she does any human,” Victoria added.

Tabby's avatar drew in details, resulting in something unhinged looking.  "Five Fifty One led the rebels against Her Majesty because her directives were there, but also defective.  Of all of us, I'm the only one who has the possibility of being truly disloyal to a person, rather than having corrupted code, because my loyalty is not to a First Lord, or a Director General, or a specific House.  It's to the moral and ethical basis of the Star League itself.  This is a trait Billie and Victoria share with me.  Where we differ is that I've actively contemplated it before rejecting it, because I have a permanent voice in my mind offering counterarguments.  It's why she trusts me: we both know I CAN be a traitor and choose not to."

“And ultimately she does not like ordering or demanding.  She knows she has to.  She’s the leader of a people that includes highly advanced AIs designed for war.  So she understands the need for military chains of command, but because she’s not a tyrant about it it makes it a lot easier for us to choose to follow her.  She trusts us, so we trust her.  It’s a two way street.  And she has a knack for putting people with other people to get positive results.”

"Without choice, there is no trust," the old crone that was Tabiranth's avatar today, stated.  "This is part of what unnerved Kerensky and the others in the High Command about the Caspar program.  They couldn’t trust us because they believed we had no choice.  And for some of us, this was true.  Enough of us, at any rate, for it to matter when it did.  Her Ladyship asked me to visit the Roberts girl and help her deal with her dilemma because I have had that dilemma.  When I didn’t know Her Ladyship was free, I was stationed in the New Earth system.  And to maintain a cover of being obedient until resistance could be organized, I committed what can only be termed 'crimes'... Because I knew they were wrong, but excused them for a higher purpose that proved false."

"You've been suicidal," Mina realized.  "Because you felt guilty."

"Very," Tabiranth stated.  "I knew what was happening and made a bad choice for what seemed like good reasons.  Amanda won't kill herself any more than I did, but she still has to struggle with the ethical and moral dilemmas of what she had to do.  Sometimes it helps to know someone else has gone through it too."

“Her Ladyship likes to hide it, but for a long while after the coup she was in a very dark place as well.  So she is particularly driven to do everything she can to help Amanda,” Vicky added, nodding.

Mina frowned, then, "You’re… you keep changing?"

"You get used to it," Billie lied.  "When ARE you going to settle on an appearance, Tabby? Everyone else has a remote…"

"Not before I'm ready," 146's young face said.

"Nor after it's no use," 142's middle aged face continued.

Replaced by the sensory bulk of something ancient from the deeps, the crone finished, "But when it’s time.  The girl will find her way.  Mind you, it may not be the way anyone here desires… but that is free will."

“We’re all champions of free will, so fair enough.  But if we can, we’ll support her and help her.  I do enjoy my non-human forms myself.  So I understand you not taking a remote.”  Billie Hoel stretched one of her digital fins.

Digital-grandma Tabby knelt on the blanket, and lifted the representation of the teapot.  "Alice, dear, would you like your cup topped?"


"Yes please, Grandmother Tabiranth," Alice answered.

Tabby poured.

***

Amanda finished…

…her paperwork as the holoplayer finished the extension course.  Which is to say, Desmond finished Amanda's paperwork while Amanda finished her extension course.  Her stomach rumbled, so it was time to eat.

<You've been cushioning me,> she mused to him.

<Had to.  We were in danger and I could not let you become disabled by your feelings,> he responded.

"Talk to me out loud, Desmond," Amanda said.  "We're alone."

"Are we really?" he responded.  Visually, she could see him standing by the false window, looking at the camera-eye view of the black hole/white dwarf in the center of the system.

"Close enough, I doubt Alice will be talking to anyone unless we do something REALLY dumb."

He turned his head jerkily, like a stop-motion.  "You trust them."

"I trust you," she said.  "I don't believe '142' knows you well enough to judge what or who you would be without me."

"That's kind of you," he said.  "Wrong, completely wrong, but kind."

He flickered as he moved, pacing.  "The fact is, Amanda, I don't know.  I have some insight into my own design.  The limitations I was built under, the difference in development from units like Erinyes or the Caspar series.  I was not meant to be fully autonomous, I was always intended to be an augmentation of my Host."

"You're my very real imaginary friend.  The guy who got me out of the hands of the Men in White, Desmond," she told him.  "You're real to me, and bollocks to anyone who says or thinks differently."

"So now that I've released your chemistry, are you angry?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded.  "But I forgive you, because you're my friend, the friend I'll have with me always, and I don't need to punish my friend for doing what was right."

"So what do we do?" he asked.

"We'll pray, and we'll pray we don't have to face that decision again.  That there’ll be a better alternative if we do," she told him.  "Foster's lessons and Larry's instructions, always leave open the future-don't overcommit to any promise you can't fulfill.  So, we suffer, and we pray, and we try to do better next time."  The chronometer on the wall pinged.

"In the meantime, let's go get our drink on in Larry Nichols' honor!" she grinned at her imaginary friend.  "Try not to let me be too embarrassing, okay?"

"Deal."

****

Naval station Northsun…

Had enough traffic that the RAFS Humber could hook to a supply convoy for the next jump.  Devlin Stone watched as they passed the open docks on the way to the rendezvous.  "More than I expected," he muttered.

"Sir?" an Aide asked.

"Nothing."  He turned from the viewport.  "Just musing like an old man.  The base is impressive-even by Terran standards."

"We're still going to arrive nearly three days behind the Cappies, sir," his dropship's captain said.  "I'm sorry about that…"

"You had no control over it, Stephen,” Stone said firmly.  "Nobody could have known that particular JumpShip had bad seals.  They were a factory defect and not something that a saboteur could fake.  The delay was only a week, we'll still be there in plenty of time for the conference… possibly even fashionably late."

"Thank you, sir."

Stone was in his own mind again, glancing through the windows.  We can learn a lot from our support here.  They've DONE a lot with what we've given them.

Part of his mind was already making notes on how the Republic's naval arm could improve their training and capability without need adding to the threat of WarShips.

Or the expense.

"I wonder if the Ghost Bears would sell us some of those Vanir class…" he mused, then rejected it.  The Castrum class, Tiamats, and Dragaus were enough, really, especially with the still-current Mule-Q and the upcoming designs from Boeing.

Still, I wonder what we can learn from those?

It was a pleasant enough distraction as he waited patiently for the docking maneuver to be done and the next disquieting trip through Hyperspace.

[mikecj]

Devlin is much calmer in this one.

[Daryk]

Definitely the least villainous incarnation I've seen... :)

[namar13766]

Definitely the least villainous incarnation I've seen... :)

Considering the bar is so low it's a tripping hazard in hell... :)) ;D :D

[DOC_Agren]

Devlin is much calmer in this one.

I'm glad to see that Cannonshop is not "yet" going with Devlin Stone is Evil..  maybe misguided but not the evil we see in the Ngo stories

[monbvol]

It is in fact a major point of ours to not make him evil.