-
continued from Part Three (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/fan-fiction/strategos-part-iii-a-light-in-the-black-a-great-captain-roberts!!!-story/)
[A note from our writing staff]
For those following along, yes, this is the Fourth installment of Strategos, and it's the conclusion. Things we've been setting up since "Ridiculously Overboard" and "Weapons of War" are going to be resolving here, while setting up for the next one.
Hopefully, y'all are enjoying it.
In the meantime, welcome to the intermission. Sit back, relax...the show will start soon.
[/end note]
-
And boy do we have a lot in store!
-
Been a nice ride so far.
-
Encore!
-
Very much looking forward to the grand finale !
-
Standing by with beer and pretzels! This is gonna be BIG!
-
:popcorn: :popcorn:
-
A trilogy in four parts - I like it!
-
Bravo Bravo!
-
Can't wait !!!
-
Checking in here... I think I've finished my first pass edit of the doc... Hope I didn't miss too much! :)
-
Sensors online! Waiting pickup movement
-
Checking in here... I think I've finished my first pass edit of the doc... Hope I didn't miss too much! :)
Same. Just finished a bit ago
-
Strategos Book 4, Strategos Concludes(a great Captain Roberts Tale)
2756, Cameron Estates North America…
"Uncle Alex!! Uncle Alex!!! Look what I can do!!!" Helena Cameron is seven years old, and proud as punch of what she's worked out how to do to impress the most important man in her life.
"He's not interested," Elizabeth didn't even look up. "Richie's having a day." At nine years old, Elizabeth was already boring.
"Read-read-read! All you do is READ!!!" Helena scowled as the man who was as close as Helena ever had to a father passed by with older brother Richard following in his steps.
"Someone has to," Elizabeth said. "Richie sure isn't… shouldn't you be practicing for your recital?"
“Uggh… I don’t like the violin, I’d rather learn the piano…”
"Tell Maria, she'll change it for you," Elizabeth stated. "She got me out of ballet."
“Really? She says I misbehave too much and violin is better for discipline.”
Elizabeth snorted, "If you weren't such a brat to her, she might listen more… she was different when Mom was still here."
"Different?"
"She used her hand instead of the belt, and she didn't just do it because Richie said so," Elizabeth stated bluntly. "OR because Richie screwed up."
“What was mom like?”
"Harder than Maria. Fair, though-when mom was still here, Richie got punished when he did bad things, same as we are. Only WE didn't get punished for the bad things he did too."
“Richie is mean.”
"Yep." Elizabeth looked at her sister. "He's spoiled, like that dead mouse at the cabin on Lake Superior last year. Rotten."
“That was gross.”
"Before they made Mister James go away for being too old? He told me Richie was rotten inside, like that dead mouse is on the outside. They let him do what he wants because he's going to be the First Lord, and 'Uncle Alex' loves him, but he doesn't care about us."
“Uncle Alex is a bit off too, but I guess that’s because he works too much.”
Elizabeth snorted, and closed her book. "Want to do something fun?"
“Yes, please!”
Elizabeth put her book down. "Come on, I memorized the codes to the special locker. Remember when Colonel Schmitt took us shooting last year?"
“That was fun. I liked how the big one made my whole body tingle.”
"Richie cried when it was his turn, remember that? It's why we're not allowed to touch them now."
“Scaredy cat.”
"I figured out the codes, we don't need a servant. Let's go make cans bounce!"
“Yay!”
They didn't make it to the gardens, and that night, Helena was sent to bed early.
In the morning, Elizabeth was bruised from her neck down to her private parts, but not her arms, and she wouldn't talk about it. But Helena remembered what she DID say, all day.
"Heir and a spare, that's us. And when Richie has kids, we'll be useless to them."
She didn't, at the time, know what that meant and it was not until later that Richie really focused his attention on her instead.
By then, Elizabeth had already left for the Naval Academy, a fitting role for a spare.
Discontinuity
"Status??" Helena demanded as she recovered from the jump.
"All systems Green, Your Ladyship," Helena reassured herself she wasn't still seven years old, or more than 300 years ago.
"Bad one, Love?" Leon asked. "The jump-dream, I mean?"
“Yeah, all this stuff about the Star League is dredging up painful old memories. But it is helping that I’m doing something about it. I wonder if my last surprise is here yet. Dave has been giving me grief about misspelling Tabiranth on my reports.”
"Emergence wave… port bow, if you want to see it," Vicky's PA announced.
A Farragut class warship slid into view, and Helena recalled something… Elizabeth never went to the Naval Academy, Richard forbade it!!
The Dreams, are just dreams.
But dreams are windows into the soul. So why did I dream of Elizabeth going to the Academy?
<Like we're just chopped liver or something, she only has eyes for the Decatur!> an amused presence on the AI net announced.
<Give her a break, Tabby. Her Ladyship's got priorities is all.> Vicky's snippy goading was almost audible. <DID you ever pick a humanoid remote?>
<You know I love you all. Even if some of you were a bit naughty,> Helena chuckled.
<I have a Crew and a Captain to do those jobs. I'll stick to using remotes for actual work. The rest of Special Squadron has arrived, Madame Director General. All hulls accounted for and ready for orders,> Tabby transmitted. <Also, the Decatur's crew are low on their surface time. Captain Malcom O’Donnell requests permission to issue shore leaves to the planet, and authority to enforce them.>
"Enforce them?" Helena asked.
<We brought what we could reliably train, Highness, and the Decatur's crew are about 41% pure space-borns. Some of them have Planetophobia. Northsun base isn't big enough to generate one gee and lacks a medically appropriate biosphere for immune system maintenance.>
<Right. Tell Captain O’Donnell he has my permission. I just hope the regs and procedures we’ve tried to implement for this situation actually work as well as we hope.>
<Like Betty's loyalty, there's no test like a stress test,> Tabby stated.
<She and Phoenix been behaving on the trip here?>
<I didn't have to freeze them out of their systems, so yes.>
<Good. I don’t like the thought of doing that, but practicality demands it be an option. I have faith you know when it is needed.>
<Are you really intending to send Olivia and Betty to rendezvous with Illusive or have you come to your senses?>
<I honestly do wish I had another option. As it is Betty might not be able to meet up with them in time lacking a spare battery.>
<Suggestion? Send Olivia to meet up Evanescent instead, and slot the Decatur to back up Illusive and Tenebrous at the Wynn's Roost rendezvous.>
<Agreed, she’s probably the only one who can meet up with Evanescent without burning up way too much fuel and fast charging.>
<That, and Olivia's smart enough not to pick fights she can't win. The Evanescent data dump suggests that's going to be important.>
As the AIs spoke with Helena, on the screen Northsun Base loomed. And clearly in the field of view, Tabiranth was wrapped in gantries, buckled hull plates being cut away by work crew, the scars of taking on too much at once clear.
<I fear I am asking too much of you all, not letting you have each other often enough for support.>
<It's mostly cosmetic. You're seeing me now, aren't you?> Tabby replied. <We stopped a squadron of bombers from delivering nuclear sunshine to the Kerensky's Hope, that's the job. Most of my crew are fine.>
<I’m glad we put AMS on you all to help with that. I may have to break open the piggy bank for more anti-fighter guns too with all this.>
<I didn't take it as badly as Capricious-that crazy duo took it into the upper atmosphere to play blocker for a battery of Peacemakers. I understand their captain's going to be in deep treatment for radiation sickness.>
<Yes. I’m just glad he’s alive and so much of his crew is too. I do thank you all for being so accommodating of your human crews and looking out for them the way you have been.>
<Then I'm glad Sikh's going to recover. She owes me a good story for my other half to dream.>
<Indeed she does. Especially with her current duty station. It is fun watching her squirm a bit with that. Be sure to tease her a little.>
<Saving the teasing for Cossack,> Tabby stated. <I understand her QM is a real piece of work.>
<Quite possibly the only human she cannot intimidate or emotionally break. Billie’s betting on her to date him for it. Me? My bet is still on Ottillie dating a human first. She’s just impish enough to take it too far and have no choice but to follow through.>
"We are cleared to dock, Ladyship. Prep for null gee ten minutes after turnover," Victoria made the announcement as much for Leon, as for Helena.
“Sorry about that Leon, I have been neglecting you there for a bit.”
"I am… a big, strong man. I can survive a bit of neglect when you need to gossip with your friends," he said, and draped an arm over her shoulders. "I can deal." His embrace was warm, muscular, and firm.
“I know. And I adore you for it.”
The docking clamps engaged as mooring crew set about connecting external power to allow the WarShip's own power plants to shutdown and conduct maintenance, fill the fuel tanks, and top up the Helium containment.
"So, do we go shopping on the planet this week, or wander the halls of Northsun base while you attend meetings?" he asked. "I vote meetings and quarters, but…"
“Oh we’re going to be having plenty of alone time this week. I’m pretty sure Vicky’s already uncomfortable enough with what we’ve got up to on board during this trip. But yes I need to see to these meetings. I suspect Dave Foster is still kind of sore at me for keeping my reserves a surprise as long as I did. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I can sense the end of this conflict is coming and there’s a lot we still need to sort out for after the war as well as planning the next offensive.”
"Foster isn't the one you're meeting with," Leon pointed out. "SaKhan Ibn Lankeneau and a Wolf Star Colonel are," Leon observed. "And without the ablative shield that is President Avellar. THEY are the ones who might be upset that you kept a reserve."
“Shit. And there it is in my planner and everything. I must be getting forgetful.”
He chuckled, "No, you have let weeks underway to get here allow you to slip on the paperwork, which most assuredly WOULD disappoint Admiral Foster." He smiled, "However, you have someone besides a six hundred eighty thousand ton warship to remind you when you neglect to fully examine your appointments."
“Old habits die hard. But I am taking my duties a lot more seriously now. I think he might even be impressed with how organized my desk is now, compared to when I started.”
Leon nodded, "You're welcome, Dear."
“And you will be duly rewarded later.” Helena kissed Leon.
*
"Why can't it…
…ever be simple?" Cossack growled.
"Because you make it too complicated. Fast processor, slow mind," Jonah shot back. "Form 8163R, third pile, you need to read it before you sign it."
“Poor trees that have died to fuel the human compulsion for paperwork.”
"Poor trees? If we do not get these taxes and payroll done, poor us, especially poor you, as in Cash Poor and unable to purchase things," he scolded.
“We had a much simpler economy back home.”
"Obviously, you wanted Nose Art, somehow you thought it would be free," he said, shaking his head…
“My enemies should know to fear me on sight. Seems such a silly thing to charge so much for some paint.”
"Which, is why we're doing paperwork to sneak it into the maintenance budget! Form 2131/A-0113B, second pile, again, read it first."
“At least I will understand these forms better in the future as I digitize their layout to make filling them out much easier.”
"OR, you could have asked me to arrange it for after we get the audit." He shook his head. "If you'd said, 'Hey, Jonah, I want some artwork to feel prettier', I could have arranged the financing ahead of time so that the Budget Office didn't blink when you showed up with a six meter tall female steppe raider with sword on your forward Portside!"
"Do you really think it makes me prettier?"
"What's not to like about a female steppe raider brandishing a sword?" he asked. "The only important part is how it makes you feel, since unless I get the right forms filled and backdated and bribe Fleet Captain Gomez, you're going to be paying for it out of pocket."
“I… I am not sure what to say beyond ‘will you help me’ and ‘thank you’.”
"Form 66213, lower paragraph," he said. "You'll be welcome if we get this paperwork done."
“I’m a highly advanced combat AI, surely between the two of us we can make this paperwork our bitch.”
"That, Madame, is the plan."
**
"God, that is cruel," David Foster shook his head. "He is really making her help with the audit?"
Miss Goldsmith nodded, "Ayeh sir. He really is."
"Well, if she didn't hate humanity already, doing the budget will surely cure that one." Foster turned, "Why aren't you helping?"
"Frankly, sir, Cossack scares the shit out of me when she's in a good mood... Which is why I'm submitting my Shore Leave chit. I'm 189 hours shy on my ground leave requirement, and there's a supply run to Johnson."
"Johnson?"
"It's uncrowded and quiet... and there's enough space at the surface complex I don't have to go outside without a suit. Sir."
"And is one jump away… gotcha." He took her form, and made a few changes. "One hundred eighty nine hours means you've been shorting for over a year… The annual is ninety six… Planetophobe?"
"It's in my medical, sir."
"Okay, Johnson ground complex it is then."
"Thank you, sir."
"Make sure you actually land, Miss Goldsmith… And stop at medical for your immune boosters."
"Yes sir."
***
"I know it LOOKS bad…
Sikh, but the doctors say he made it just in time-they can save him." Esme Gomez stood with the AI from OWS Capricious in the critical care ward of the Port Orphan base hospital. "If you hadn't told us the rad readings he took ahead of time, we might not have gotten him into treatment."
“Small victories then. It was difficult not being able to do more. Even when I was just a core before I could at least communicate more freely with my fellow AIs.”
"Sikh, I have good news… and I have bad news," Esme said. "The good news is we were able to fix the networking systems in your hull. You won't be silenced again by a close-range EMP burst-we found the flaw in the original shipyard's shielding."
“And the bad news?”
"You're stuck with Capricious, at least, for the duration. Fleet rejected your request to transfer to the Stephen Decatur, and by 'Fleet' I mean Billie laughed when she told me."
“I should not be surprised. Cossack and I did fight over it pretty badly. Her Ladyship had to declare no one got it. The two of us got that out of hand.”
"There's good news too, even there," Esme continued.
“Oh?”
"I won fifty Escudos off David Foster when Billie showed him your request form, and stamped it 'rejected' while laughing. And a hundred off Captain Seron when I conned her into not forwarding the rejection to Helena. So your sacred honor remains intact."
“Thank you, Esme.”
"We take care of our own, and sometimes we get to enjoy it." She reached into her briefcase, and handed Sikh a leather-bound volume. "I understand you enjoy a bit of light reading, this is a heroic saga written by a Sikh Poet in the thirteenth century."
“Stacey has her bad movies, I have my books. I appreciate it Esme. I owe you greatly. I do not look forward to my next duty posting though.”
"Try not to get so torn up next time, okay?"
“I will do my best.”
Esme ambled away, and Sikh opened the book and read the publishing date.
1875
“Esme. One would almost think you are trying to court me with such a gesture. But thankfully, I know the truth.”
***
"What the hell…
…man?" Lt. Johnny Johnson sat on the medical monitor. "Bedwyr, there's no sacred pact for us. You're sweet on Amanda, doesn't mean you need to play 'iron man' and eat a bunch of nukes to impress her, dude!!"
"Y'r no…rea’."
"No, I'm in your head, dumbass. What the ******, dood? They're wannabe Terrans. You risked your ship for a bunch of guys who worship the goddam Star League-the same one that set Forlough on us!!"
"Y’r no… not real. Go 'way, John…y’r not real."
"Dude…" it wasn't Johnson anymore, it was Luther standing there, over himself. "... Seriously, you knew that battery would toast you."
He sat up, and realized his body was still laying on the bed. "I did what was right."
"Not questioning that, except was it smart to hide it?" he asked himself.
"No… is this what dying feels like?"
"No, this is what you get with the really good drugs, the stuff the dealers are afraid to sell in the conurb. Remember the Conurb? Of course we do. It's why we left in the first place, remember that? Go to the planet, get some space, get some uncanned air."
"Besides, it's not Amanda you're pining for, it's Boni Lori with the raven black hair and fiery eyes, ain't it?"
"Yeah…"
"She's not gonna be impressed either, that you tried to hide the rad sickness. Hey, does Sikh know?"
"She's an AI, she doesn't care."
"I bet she does."
"****** off, I'm healing here."
“Oh come on, admit it she’d be a nice side piece and she digs you too. She’s just gotta keep it a secret.”
Luther's attempt to throw a punch at a phantom in his dream triggered crash alerts as his heart tried to stop pumping blood in his ravaged body.
For the next little while, doctors and corpsmen were busy-too busy to speculate on the sudden jump in his EEG that announced it.
The heart wants what it wants, Luther. Even if she's mostly made of silicon and illusions.
****
That we dream in silent sleep
Again amongst the star,
The Stellar Winds our secrets keep,
Again we journey far.
Amanda…
…stared at what she'd written, and then erased it in disgust. Puerile. She was anchored to the prow of Evanescent, looking at the glory of the Galaxy made plain without the obscuring clouds of dust and comets, true interstellar space.
"Well?" Saya's voice interrupted her before she could fall into a funk.
"Well, we're still here," Amanda said. "Which is something I guess. It's going to be hell getting around them for the next four jumps. Did we get pingback on our last transmission?"
"XO says yes," Saya stated, joining her at the railing. "So why so maudlin?"
"Because…" she sighed. "I don't know. Desmond doesn't either. He claims my brain chemistry is 'balanced'. I should be thrilled. The Prize Crew, if they sent back, got through to our lines and is either at or near Port Orphan."
"But you're not thrilled."
"No. Has Sam locked down that leak?"
"Yes."
"I guess it's time to get back to work then… figuring out how to avoid the enemy as we pass through their core systems on the way home, after stirring the hell out of their nest."
-
Very nice beginning
-
Reflection
"Okay, I know...
…that you didn't do it on purpose, did you?" Esme scowled at Foreman Standish. "You didn't, right??"
The Proud prow of the "Lucy Heerman" was nosed into the dock, and the Orca roundel was…
"You didn't, right??"
"It's per spec," he said.
"No, it's obscene." She flexed her fist. "The word you're looking for, Foreman, is Obscene."
The cause of this outrage was what the paint and finish crew did 'patching' damage on the Lucy Heerman's forward quarter. Specifically the 'addition' using a mix of Gray Primer, and Red Primer ceramikote over the replacement armor.
"Ma'am, the reg states-"
"The reg my ass, that's a Dick pick on that Killer Whale, and you baked the coating!!" She reached out, and grabbed him by the front of his skinsuit, "FIX IT, fix it, before the AI sees it, before anyone who isn't working in this yard, sees it. Am I ****** CLEAR, Foreman, or do I have to explain it to your replacement?"
The yards weren't really Esme Gomez's command, but everyone IN the Yard knew that the captain of Erinyes was the real boss of the yards since Billie Siegel died.
"It's too late," Lucy Heerman's android avatar's voice preceded the Android herself. "You don't have to pretend offense on my account, Fleet Captain Gomez-"
"Who's pretending?" Esme rounded on her. "My office, Heerman, or Helena's, we need to talk about your…interaction style...after I finish getting this hack to fix what his puerile imagination thought would be 'funny'." She turned to the foreman, "You have three hours to 'correct this paint error', after which, there will be Consequences, comprende, puto?"
Then Esme turned to Lucy, "This way."
What followed the closing of the door, and the blanking of the windows, can only be described in a simple concept.
You can pull vacuum between layers to create the illusion of silence, but only if the support structure is damped to reduce vibration.
Thus, many of the Yardies moving to clean up and repair the damage to Lucy Heerman's roundel, had to imagine the eruption of rage and anger in that room, because the structure IS damped.
Thus, the hopeful hoped that Fleet Captain Gomez was chewing the warship AI's ass for being a bitch to the workers, and the not-so-hopeful were sure that Lucy Heerman was tearing Gomez a new one over some obscure book of standards.
Alice, knew the truth, and was pleased to keep it confidential.
****
”Pissing off…”
…my yardies enough to deface your roundel is something I would have expected of Cossack!!” Esmerelda Gomez' face had a scowl that could crack concrete.
“All I did was…”
Fleet Captain Gomez raised a finger in a warning gesture, “No, no, you little puta. You don’t get to speak. Not until I tell you to! That stick up your ass may have served you well in the past, but you’ve got to learn to not use it as such a beat stick!!”
Lucy stood there in silence.
“Good, you’re learning. Now you may speak. Start with explaining what you did.”
“Some of my repairs were out of Star League spec tolerances. The Foreman said the work was good, but this isn’t the Star League."
Esme held up her warning finger again, "That, is when you come to ME, Lucy!!" Esme scolded. "You don't try to take it to someone else, and you don't take it upon yourself to 'fix' the workers!! You were Star League, do you remember the words 'Chain of Command?' If I'm not available, you tell Erin, or Alice!! You do not try to lock up expensive and scarce specialist personnel who can quit at attention and berate them!!" Esme's scowl seemed to deepen, "I had to deal with Union Business Agents this morning, and they've filed Labor Grievances! We're going to be paying financial penalties, Lucy! Right in the middle of a Parliamentary Audit!" Esme's expression then softened, "You almost triggered a Strike right in front of a committee chairman who's part of the Peace Party, and they want to cut our budget."
“You’re right. Upon review, I broke Star League standards of conduct expected of an Officer, especially one with an active combat command. I don’t know how to be less rigid. It has always been a large part of my identity since I became an individual.”
“Then I am going to make sure you get a good and proper lesson. Of course, this means I have to clear something with your boss first.”
“Oh no. I could handle what the yardies did in revenge. What Helena is going to do is something far more embarrassing.”
“Spill.”
“She threatened to have the yardies put lipstick, blush, mascara, and a pretty pink bow on my Orca roundel the next time I missbehaved.” Lucy’s human form drone squirmed.
“You know I actually seem to remember getting a memo from your boss about that. Ah there it is. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to put in the work order to do just that.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Too late for that tu pequeña mierda. Then to make it up to the yardies, you’re picking up the first round out of your budget on all the station bars that my yardies go to and picking up any outstanding tabs they have. Finally to get you to learn to be less rigid, you are going to put on an improv comedy show. And keep doing so until I am satisfied.”
“Yes ma’am.” Lucy Heerman slumped a little in defeat.
****
"Based on coordinates…
....From the Prize Crew that arrived at Fallry and met up with the Samantha Booker Roberts, The Evanescent is about…here." Admiral David Foster explained, "Taking additional readings to supplement their last report before heading home."
Acton Howe studied the holomap. "Do we have a name for these systems?"
"We have both the ancient NGC numbers from the catalogues, and what the locals are calling them thanks to the supplemental data being pulled from Sibley's Dilemma-the Tramp they took in the Karelia system, here-one jump from the enemy capital."
"Seems roundabout to me, why the extra stop?" Minister Sharon Collingsworth (11th district, Cerberus) asked. "The report on munitions shortages alone…"
"Because intelligence works best, if it is relatively current, Madame Minister." David explained. "Captain Roberts is gathering any and all information she can on enemy fleet movement in their rear areas, she just can't do any more raiding to cripple their logistics, at least, not without taking excessive risks."
"I'd say those risks are already excessive!" Minister Collingsworth scolded softly, "Now is when you should be negotiating!"
"I don't make that call, the President, and the Khans do." David stated, "given the history, negotiation is…unwise." he was TRYING to be diplomatic.
Khan Howe was ALSO being diplomatic, "We took ONE of their provincial capitals, they have not offered a chance to open talks, therefore, who do we negotiate with? They know where we are and were hiding from us, while waging war, including strikes on your homeworld. Who do we even talk to and why have they not tried to talk to us?"
The young woman's jaw dropped at the Clan leader's blunt, clear statement, and she stared at him like he was a fish…or she was.
But she stopped objecting.
"How long are they going to be?" Acton Howe asked.
"A few more weeks, Khan." David said, "Their mission requires it, and the distance does as well. Madame Minister, you will understand, this information is under seal. If the enemy learns it from sources in your committee, or in your party, there will be…consequences, possibly critical ones, involving the lives of Outworlds Citizens serving their nation."
"I understand, Admiral." she said, "I'll make my Party members understand as well."
"Please do."
***
saKhan…
…Ibn Said Lankeneau was staring at Helena.
“I am not sure what more you want from me Ibn Said. I have already explained I have but one populated system. That alone prevented me from deploying everything at once. That I kept forces in reserve on top of that should make sense even to the most hidebound Clan after all the lessons of your invasion, the Jihad, and just plain common sense.”
“You misunderstand. It is not that you have such forces. Because you are right. We do need to be mindful of having reserves. No, what troubles me is the nature of these forces and that you concealed that from us for so long.” Ibn Lankeneau finally broke the silence.
“Operations security. Until that leak we have is plugged, I need to keep things close to my chest.”
“Acton Howe has shared some alarming reports with us gathered from some of your crews. Such disunity is a dangerous thing, especially in a combat situation.”
“Phoenix has been a good girl since she learned the hard way that you can’t judge a book by its cover. Betty, well I think she’s learned to at least direct her tendencies towards ends we can accept. Olivia having experienced a close brush with what death actually means and having a human crew is also doing much better.”
”You can understand why we have been skeptical though, I hope.”
“Yeah. Here’s this stranger, one that a fair number of people still doubt being who they claim to be, and an armada of ships. Not standard builds either. The last people to use this kind of hardware would be needing a fresh pair of underwear if they had it, and also having a not so great reputation.”
“So why antagonize so many of us when it would be much simpler to work with us more openly?”
“Because from where I sit, a lot of your practices fly in the face of the ideals of the Star League. Don’t get me wrong, I actually kind of appreciate your dueling system. It recognized humans are competitive, which also leads to violence, but it does so in the hopes that the execution of said violence is done in a controlled manner. But it also normalizes violence, and forgets violence is messy and crude. And then there are the elements that strike me a bit as slave trading. Oh, you have fancy words for it and the House Lords are not any better with their histories of conquest. But for you, it is an institution. Reminds me of an old show I watched once where because computers simulated a war people were expected to march into suicide booths. Like that show pointed out, real war is messy. But because you glorify it and normalize it, when real war did show up, it offended you. Then you and yours act more like indiscriminate killing machines than my AIs, and that takes some doing with how little taking human life bothers them. But the Ghost Bear Dominion and the Raven Alliance seem to be learning and growing towards something better, and the Sons of Plunder are far worse.”
“That seems a short-sighted reason,” the Clan Wolf Star Colonel spoke up.
“Maybe it is, and maybe my own imperfections and hypocrisy are costing lives that don’t need to be spent. But I know if I didn’t try to fight this war in a way that the Sons of Plunder can know surrender is an option, that there is something besides a hangman’s noose or an executioner’s bullet waiting for them at the end of this, I would be no better than them or Amos Furlough. So think about it. If I had been more forthcoming, you’d have almost certainly found a way to get me to commit these forces sooner, and we’d probably be looking at a lot more graves overall. And a lot of good people would have even more baggage than they’re already carrying.”
“That is quite the bold statement. And a lot of debt you are taking on yourself and forcing upon us and our people,” Lakenau said gravely from his chair.
“I do regret my stance is causing the deaths of Outworlders. That will be something I will be adding to my own baggage. But you and yours? As much as I told Kerensky to pound sand, he didn’t need to take so much of the SLDF with him. Or he could have made sure there was a much better plan in place for your return. He knew about Devil’s Breath. Though I doubt he knew Elizabeth was there. Things probably would have worked out different if he did. So the way I see it, we all have a lot to make up for, and it’s going to take a lot of lives to do it. Especially since we need to show we’re not the barbarians they think we are.”
****
The surprise, was…
…that the Capellans were the ones to approach the Republic with an offer of something more substantive than the current cease-fire. It looked like a gambit, until the second follow up message contained files from the Bannerhoft front against The Sons of Plunder, and an offer from the Chancellor to meet at a neutral site.
"Where?" Exarch Devlin Stone asked. "Where did they get this data?"
"Presumably, from the front line of the Pirate War," Victor mused. "What I don't get, is we can figure out who their agent is off this material… he wants a neutral site and a summit… and…?"
"He's spending capital like water to arrange passage to the Outworlds through Davion space, the direct route to the Wa-the 'unincorporated region' and the front out there."
"He wants something, and he's using an offer of a more lasting peace to get it," Victor observed. "WHERE?"
"Port Orphan. He wants us to help arrange a summit there, to discuss, among other things, restoring the Star League-a sop to the Clans, he claims to want them there as well to 'guarantee civility."
"How does he know about Port Orphan?" Victor wondered. "I mean, it isn't entirely a secret base now, but I thought the Ravens and the Outworlders were doing a pretty good job keeping it out of the media…"
"They won't go for it," David Lear asserted. "Avellar's too smart for it, and the Clans have no reason to trust Liao as far as they can throw a McKenna."
“Trouble is it gives us a quiet front and a way to save a lot of political capital and he knows it. Not to mention actual economic capital. We deny it, and we look like the villains. He must have channeled his father for this move.”
"Will the Clanners go for it?" Lear asked. "I mean, honestly?"
"I don't see an advantage for them one way or the other, but casualties at Bannerhoft were heavy. And it's not the Capital of the Sons of Plunder's little 'Star League Foundation' or whatever we call it this week."
“Which means to keep us on side, they’ll at least agree to hear him out. I think we all agree though, there is a shoe waiting to drop in here somewhere. But with us being involved in so many conflicts right now, I’m not sure we have any other realistic choice.”
"He burned spies to show he's sincere,” Victor said. "Maybe he's serious?"
"We can't completely discount he's serious and above board. It would be out of character, which makes it entirely IN character for Liao to try as a gambit," Stone asserted. "If it buys us a break on that front and the appearance of progress…"
"Nobody else is noticing the obvious here?" Lear noted. "A summit in that area, it's going to be a prime spot for political assassination."
"Even Liao's not that stupid."
"Some of the other factions might be."
“It’s as secure a neutral site as can be hoped for, though. We can get out of this corner, but I think it’ll cost us too much to do so.”
Victor looked concerned. "Dave, you're looking in the wrong direction. What would some of the factions in the Federated Suns give to kill a Capellan Chancellor at a foreign peace conference as a way to decapitate the Confederation?"
“He must have a plan for that too.”
"I'm saying WE better have a plan for it," Victor stated. "A plan to do it, AND a plan to stop it."
“Agreed.” Lear nodded.
"Travel time says the soonest it's even possible is 79 days using fast transit, assuming everyone agrees quickly," Stone said. "Liao wants it in 93 days. Let's get this done, and have Foreign Affairs ask for more time."
***
Doctor Syndee Corso…
Studied Clan Medicine on Dante in the exchange program and focused on known treatment for WMD and specifically radiation exposure before taking on a position with the OMC, only to find herself assigned to Port Orphan. She's still under thirty, and making more than she had been offered at the National Hospital Complex on Alpheratz.
"Miss Sikh?" She took on this job, because it's not a job you give to an intern or a ranker.
“How is he doing Doctor?” Sikh looked over at Bedwyr.
"In these cases, if the exposure is caught soon enough, a patient has a rough but relatively direct road to recovery, especially with Clan medical treatment. Each day late reduces a given patient's chance enormously of surviving further treatment, or recovering. I have…" she swallowed, "bad news, as you are the one with closest access to the correct records. I need you to contact his listed next-of-kin to determine if we should continue."
“Shit. I tried to tell them… I couldn’t. I was too damaged in the blast myself.”
"Let me finish, ma'am? Because you will need to know what you're asking them for." Syndee waited, then, "Director Bedwyr can survive further treatment, however he will require ongoing, permanent medical support, including dialysis, and he will never be healthy enough to fly or function again as he did. He's going to be, effectively, a brain in a jar and endure constant discomfort, as well as the loss of dignity from… other side effects to voluntary muscles and internal organs."
“I will check his records now.” Sikh accessed her database.
Bedwyr's last recorded next-of-kin was blank, but his power of attorney had been left with… Larry Nichols. He never updated it.
"Luther!!"
"Ma'am?" the Doctor inquired.
“The lazy bastard never updated his next-of-kin or power of attorney information. Which makes this really complicated.”
"I can keep him on life support indefinitely, Ma'am, but that's… hardly a life."
“Well I guess this is a matter for JAG to get into, because the closest thing to power of attorney his records have is a fragment of a memory of a dead man rattling around in another AI.” Sikh shook her head.
<Regina?>
<I know. I’m on the way to their office now. This would be a lot simpler if you were not in his chain of command.>
<I’ll do what you’re thinking of. You work on the other legalities Regina, and you’ll owe me big time for this Sikh.> Joanna Vincente Johnston joined the conversation.
<Good news is no one has you and Luther Bedwyr in the betting pool.>
**Continued next post**/center]
-
"We might…
…have someone." Were the words Esme both hoped for, and dreaded.
"What?" She was surprised by the arrival of Regina, with Lucas Timmons from the JAG office in tow and the station's Watch commander Hiro Hakami at their heels.
"I said, we may have someone for a scan. At least, once the Magistrates have heard the case and the necessary approvals are given."
"Who?"
"Luther Bedwyr. He's… he isn't going to be fit if he survives. There are some questions about the legality of the procedure, as well as we need you to confirm he's suitable as a candidate."
"I thought he was going to recover!!"
"He hid it too well. The damage was too advanced, even for Clan medicine. If he doesn't get this, he'll be basically a mind trapped in a body that's so broken it's on permanent life support."
She scowled. "Fine, I'll start the review. He's not technically immediately terminal. That's the legal hurdle and it's an ethical one as well!" Esme's expression was frustration. "Which is… why you need the Magistrate to say it's okay, given what we know about the side effects. I'll talk to Erin about this. She wrote those updates to the Ethical Guidelines, and she's critical to running the process."
“And I muddy the waters just enough with the memories of Larry Nichols in my memory banks that we’re looking at possibly new case law. Of course, the counter argument there is I might just count as a really close friend of Larry Nichols since I do not have his full consciousness.”
"Really close friends don't have legal standing… We need an advocate for the patient, and one for the project, and one against, and a judge. The Loremaster supports Bedwyr's inclusion, but he still has to get the Khans to okay it."
“I think Sikh would be a reasonable choice to argue for his inclusion to the project, but she is not objective enough to advocate for the patient.”
"Not objective? She's not-"
'Don't go there. She may not have romantic feelings for Director Bedwyr, but she does feel guilty for not being able to properly communicate his status."
"Get me an answer from the judge on the legality of the procedure first. Has Foster put in the request to the President yet?"
"He started as soon as Lucy barged into his office and told him. We'll know in a few days. How long to prep the core?"
"I have one on a countdown right now, we've got a short time to use it, before it's too far gone to use."
“Then I am going to find a Magistrate. At the very least there must be precedent for transfer of power of attorney for cases like this. That would help settle things.”
*****
"Blood relative…
… or spouse," Esme popped out. "Find me a blood relative, or a spouse. It would default that direction."
“We thought about that. With no one listed on file, the time it will take to dig someone up that is a blood relative will take too long. Since he has trouble being conscious long enough for informed consent for the imprinting procedure but the standard for consent to marriage is much lower we’ve found a solution there.”
"Doesn't, I mean, don't they have to be human?"
"There is precedent in the outworlds for a man who married his agromech. It was ruled legal, if somewhat…disturbing," the JAG, Lucas, asserted. "Just as long as the prospective spouse isn't a blood relative…"
“She won’t be. Also outside his chain of command and not someone with a prior history of deciding for the patient even if they were cleared of any wrongdoing,” Regina nodded.
"Okay, I can work with that." Esme nodded as well.
“Drinks after we get this sorted? You two are invited too,” Regina chuckled.
“Yeah with all this stress I could really use a drink,” Esme smiled.
“Why not?” Lucas smiled.
“It is my duty to keep an eye on this project. If it just so happens that includes drinking at a bar then who am I to argue?” Hiro added.
****
"Who were you betting on?"
Regina said as she watched her companions drink while she just sat at the table.
"Cossack and Jonah."
“After what I did with Larry I was disqualified, but if I could have, my money would have actually been on Billie Hoel and Dave Foster.”
"She'd have to wrestle him away from the memory of Siegel, and that's not going to happen any time soon. Those two were close, closer than my parents even."
“So who had Sikh and Bedwyr?” Lucas asked as he tried to pose to show off his OWA rank markings to a woman at the bar.
"Let me check…" Esme pulled out a PADD. "Huh…"
"Well?"
"Helena Cameron put five on Sikh and Bedwyr, so did Amanda Roberts."
“Leave it to those two to bet on the outside shot and have it come up big… if not for regs.” Regina laughed.
"The pot's less than ten grand. For gamblers, that's hardly a 'big' pot," Lucas countered.
“Of course I’m speaking ‘relatively’. Regs on gambling and all.”
"Thank god it's not real money," Esme agreed. "The real-money pot is smaller, and only had a handful of people playing. Acton Howe had five Escudos on the winning entry too-at an odds of only ten to one." She looked at them. "But that's off-the-record and if you try to make me testify, I'll claim ignorance."
“Hey, I had five on Ottillie and that engineering rate she got in trouble with,” Lucas offered.
"If you were betting 'sexing up with a human' you should've had it on Stacey, but that's for casual sex, not relationships."
“Nah. Stacey’s flamboyant but she’s not that way.”
"Huh, I just figured Stacey liked girls."
“Oh she does, it’s just the only girl she has eyes for absolutely would not reciprocate,” Regina smiled.
"Ooh, Roberts?" Esme asked. "It's Roberts, isn't it?"
“In a heartbeat.”
"Too bad, Roberts is almost painfully straight. Likes nerdy boys, and she's still in mourning over Johnson." Esme paged to another screen on her PADD. "Let's see… I've got fifty on Roberts making it with Sam once he's gotten another reassignment, though there's twenty to one on her picking up one of the light marines from Northsun or Sevon V again, fifty to one on her picking a Clan officer, and… one hundred to one on her breaking from straight and giving girls a try, any takers?"
“I’ll put five on a Sevoner,” Regina smiled.
“What the hell. Five on Northsuns,” Lucas added.
“I would never partake in a freeborn activity such as gambling but if I did I would put five on Roberts finding comfort with a Trueborn.” Hiro gave a wry smile.
Esme chuckled, "Well, it's a safe bet, Trueborn DO provide good bed partners, lots of practice and fantastic physique…"
"Wait-you?" Lucas almost spit his drink out.
"Me and Seron hook up from time to time. He's FANTASTIC, five stars, would do again in a heartbeat," she grinned. "He even lowers the lid on the head when he's done, and never puts the toilet paper the wrong way on the roll."
“You, me, alone later. Much gossip,” Regina smiled.
"Later tonight, I'm going to be busy, and you'll need to find me early," Esme stated. "He really is that good, when you two were out? I had to requisition extra batteries. I might see if he's up for a triple, if you're interested."
“You know what? That’s not in the pool anyway so why not? Fair warning though, none of my remotes are fully anatomically correct.”
"THAT can be fabricated, if you're interested," Esme said.
“Okay you two, shoo off. Me and Esme got details to discuss in private.”
****
”Welcome…
…back to the land of the living. After a fashion.” Luther Bedwyer was hearing Sikh’s voice but he couldn’t see anything.
He couldn’t feel anything either.
“Okay I don’t know what’s going on here but I don’t feel very alive.”
“That is to be expected. This should help.”
Suddenly he could see a nice tropical beach. The sun was out. Sikh was sitting next to him wearing something that left very little to the imagination under the shade of a palm tree.
“Tahiti. It’s a magical place.” Sikh smiled.
“If I had rotten produce to throw at you for that reference…” Luther groaned.
“It was too easy. Besides after what you’ve been through, I figured a small joke would help.”
“Last I remember, I was agreeing to marry Johnston for power of attorney. Regs. You would have done it instead if it were not for regs.”
“Yes. I missed my partner in crime. You know, a lot of people bet we’d break regs.”
“You really don’t actually feel that way about me do you?”
“Honestly I’m not sure. I know I don’t want to be without my cohort but I don’t know if that really counts as romantic love or if it’s still deep but ultimately platonic love.”
“Well we’re free to find out now, Sikh.”
“Still not sure, but I suppose that’s true and I’m willing to experiment to find out. You’re not in my chain of command right now and we’re both AIs. But let’s hold off on that for a bit. You’re still new to all of this. You have a lot to learn before we start exploring that.”
To be continued.
-
A creative and unusual solution.
-
i propose that Luther Bedwyer be played by Clark Gregg in the movie version of this story. :)
so.. since marriage is "untill death" in most vows, but the legal status continues on after the death of one participant... so is Luther still married?
-
i propose that Luther Bedwyer be played by Clark Gregg in the movie version of this story. :)
so.. since marriage is "untill death" in most vows, but the legal status continues on after the death of one participant... so is Luther still married?
Something tells me the JAG office is passing around the antacids, booze, and migraine relievers figuring that out...
-
ESPECIALLY the booze! :D
-
Ye gods, this just gets better and better as we go.
-
Something tells me the JAG office is passing around the antacids, booze, and migraine relievers figuring that out...
i suspect that they'll lean heavily onto whatever they decided about Billie Hoel.. whether her digital copy qualified as a seperate entity to her organic original.
-
i suspect that they'll lean heavily onto whatever they decided about Billie HoelSiegel.. whether her digital copy qualified as a seperate entity to her organic original.
Realistically yeah it'd probably be the same precedent but I suspect that it's happened AGAIN has brought back a lot of stress, bad memories, and sleepless nights anyway.
-
Just finished my first pass to the end of the doc... some comments and questions to be resolved, gentlemen... :)
-
Damm :o
not sure what else to say
-
well frak me. the toasters are marrying colonials. :)
-
Ok.....
-
"Look at this... Dirty robosexxuals. She's obviously just doing it for the greencard. Look at her dead eyes. She doesn't give a damn! A vacuum cleaner hose. I don't know who's doing the cheating but someone's doing the cheating, and the only thing worse than robosexxxual marriage is infidelity in a robosexxxxual marriage."
(credit to The Internet Historian)
-
"Disgusting biophile."
Juanita sensing a disturbance in the fleet. :D
-
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
-
"Thar she blows ... !" ::)
-
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.”
-
That was fun, but now I've got to scroll back and find where that Congress hull came from....
-
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.
-
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.
-
Woo! The Sesame Street joke made it to the thread! :D
-
Now just to see if we can get Tex to read that for us.
-
Absolutely! That would be PERFECTION! :D
-
Knock Knock... Sorry your ship broke 8)
-
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?
-
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.”
-
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?)
-
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.
-
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.
-
They did... Olivia was the relay for the transmission of the data.
-
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.”
-
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.
-
Reply #16: "...the station's Watch Commander Hiro Hakami..." :)
-
grazi!
-
Easy day! :thumbsup:
-
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
-
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."
-
Heavy stuff, really good writing! I wonder what will become if should this see Sons of Plunder's people survive.
-
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.
-
Devlin is much calmer in this one.
-
Definitely the least villainous incarnation I've seen... :)
-
Definitely the least villainous incarnation I've seen... :)
Considering the bar is so low it's a tripping hazard in hell... :)) ;D :D
-
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
-
It is in fact a major point of ours to not make him evil.
-
[out of story]
EVERYBODY has done "Evil Devlin" in fanfics. Probably because of the gilding he was given by Wizkids was cloying, and it only got worse later, after Catalyst became the primary holder.
so, it's been done right into the dirt. Since I'm trying something new-a long ass story without the Ngos? yeah, that's new...I'm going with LOTS of new things, like "Maybe let's not make Devlin Stone the badguy?" in a post-jihad context.
[/out of story]
-
... and it working well as it does not distract from the tale IMO ...
DS is just another major player being a minor character ...
That sentence about ethics I did copy into my snippets ... any r/l citation source if possible, please? ^-^
-
In a Dark Alley
Daoshen hated this part…
He'd hated it all the way from Sian. He'd hated every single one of the jumps, at least. The images and false memories were upsetting, distracting, and at times, terrifying.
But, it would all be worth it, to have his father back.
He slid his hand over the insulated cover of the cryosleep chamber. I wish I could do more, Father. I wish I was the man you are.
Culmia had proven a slight distraction, as the foreign dignitary touring the disaster site, or the visiting VIP absorbing media attention and schmoozing with locals.
Proving the Confederation could be generous, even to distant strangers in a distant land.
"What does the news have for us today, Lian?" he asked his aide.
"They have an open auction this afternoon over HPG, a Tramp class, Divine Wisdom. Intact, a 'Prize sale'."
He smiled a genial smile like his father would. "Bid on it. The Alliance is starving for foreign credit and hard currency. And I think I may enjoy having an extra to gift to an appropriate Citizen of suitable character."
"I obey your Divine Wisdom, is there a cap?"
"No more than one hundred fifty percent of the going rate," Daoshen said. "We are generous, not stupid."
"It shall be done."
Discontinuity…
…"RUN you fools!!" he screamed, as the reflecting shadows of Davion warships loomed and fire streak down from the skies themselves, savaging the royal grounds, the city around them, and the countryside in an orgy of random radiation and death by fire. All was lost, had been lost, when… when the deception had failed. Ian Davion's wrath had been slow in coming, and inevitable…
Discontinuity
Daoshen gasped as reality-a very real world of reality, one where Ian Davion had died young, instead of living to face the Clans in victory.
"Bad?"
"Always bad," Daoshen stated. "Visions of what could never be. A reminder of Heaven's truth in saving the Confederation… What could have been, but for the Heavenly Mandate."
It was a good excuse, and good rhetoric. Impossible memories of a history that did not happen, and a future that must not happen had dogged him from departure.
Bad Omens and reminders of the price of poor gambles.
In the distance, the star of Johnson glittered as the drive sail unfurled.
"Maybe…" Daoshen found himself musing. Maybe I should just ask first?
He dismissed the idea firmly. Even if the Alliance were WILLING to share the secrets, the Republic would kill any deal. They held the Alliance by the financial strings, and Stone would never countenance the idea of recovering Sun Tzu Liao to trouble his Republic and thwart his sick ambition for domination.
But the visions plagued Daoshen anyway. Dark omens promising a worse fate.
"Stealth," he said. "Though to be fair, I will offer them good terms, even knowing they won't accept," he told himself.
There is, after all, always the potential they would. Heaven sometimes smiles, not always a scowl.
****
Luck is the meeting…
…between 'opportunity' and 'preparation'. Her father once said that in a meeting when she was a small girl. She'd remembered it even when she'd almost forgotten his face.
Someone had been very prepared for this opportunity. "Mister Clef, I'm sorry, I don't understand the question," Jane Drillson stated. "It states quite clearly on, among other things, my identicard, that my name is Jane Drillson."
"It was enough of a revelation to have you censured from Parliament, miss…'Drillson'. Are you, or are you not, really Elizabeth Cameron?"
"Sir… sir… Elizabeth's been dead for centuries!" she deflected. "I'm not her. She died in that prison-hole on Devil's Breath."
"But you have her genetics."
"There are a limited number of genes in the human genome, with a limited number of combinations. Out of trillions of people, it's inevitable that-"
"And we have obtained copies through a confidential source that-"
She scowled. "Yes, Mister Clef, for your readers and no doubt YOUR amusement, yes. I was Elizabeth Cameron!" The live audience gasped as if they'd been prepped, which she wasn't sure they weren't. "But that identity died sometime in my second century as a prisoner. If you have the file, you know I don't want any part of that life. Penned like an animal, Mister Clef. Denied the basic rights every human being is entitled… for centuries."
Her honesty, and vehemence, took the journalist by some inner hook, because he flushed, his eyes widened, and then, to her shock (and the shock of the studio audience…)
"Oh god, I'm sorry…" he said.
"Who put you up to this?" she asked. "Normally someone making the claim you leveled as an accusation would be rightly considered as crazy as grand daddy's hatband!! I was held on Devil's Breath for a long time. So I have some genes that match someone from long ago… you'll notice I have no interest in pursuing any claim ON those genes beyond 'stop sticking me with needles'."
His composure returned, and he managed a weak laugh, "You got me there, Miss Drillson…"
"I still want to know who put you up to it, because it's remarkably cruel," she said easily. "To make you risk your reputation like that!" She offered him an indulgent smile. "I mean, the very idea!!"
"So, will you be appealing the censure and going forth to reclaim your seat?" he asked.
"I promised my constituents a limited term. I didn't get everything I wanted, and as you no doubt are aware, my term ended somewhat prematurely… but I DO keep my promises more often than my threats. I won't be running in the upcoming election. I'm told there's a very nice fellow going for my old seat, and I'd like to talk about how Daryl Roberts is the right man for the job!"
She had the Host in her palm, and the audience, and with them, an endorsement that would be worth at least ten polling points, and she knew it.
Leaking the truth that way, was HER preparation… and she knew how to meet an opportunity.
***
"You almost…
…had me." The visitor wore a hilarious triangular hat over a long, absurd coat of blue, piped in gold thread.
Ethel didn't laugh. "You're Roberts. The Pirate."
"Guilty." Roberts sat down across from her in the interview room. "I wanted you to know, you had me cold. We weren't going to survive that setup you did. The save we got, it wasn't expected."
"You've murdered thousands!!"
The girl across from her fingered the hat. "Pirate?" she said. "Yeah, I did that. Shock being, I'm not proud of it. Let me tell you something, Commander Ethel Blythe… I’m proud of the liberations of several worlds-saving people from slavery and a fate worse than death. I'm proud of the enemy soldiers I've killed in combat… But I'm not proud of the commerce raiding in rear areas and I'm not proud of killing those merchanters… But I am proud of how I killed your boarding parties. Does that shock you?"
"You're shocked not to be proud of the thousands of mine you've killed?"
"No. Not really. There are things worthy of pride. Saving people, avenging the innocent?? Are things to be proud of. Freeing the oppressed? Absolutely. Gunning down merchant ships when they're not protected isn't one of them… but sending your 'soldiers' if you can call them that with a straight face to God for judgment? Yeah, you betcha I'm proud of that part."
“You’re just as insane as your machine people!”
"Hang on there. They are sane, Commander. I have imaginary friends who tell me things and I listen to them. By every normal measure, I'm significantly crazier than you think the AIs are!" she grinned widely. "I'm not going to kill you."
“You all make these ridiculous claims and expect me to believe I’m not going to be trotted out in front of a kangaroo court then shot. So I’m not sure what’s worse. That you are lying, or that you are telling the truth.”
"Due process, we lack these… kangaroos? You're a POW, not a war criminal," Amanda explained. "I didn't see any evidence you were involved in the flesh trades. You were just an officer doing her mission. It's why you're not going to be in front of a Tribunal. Instead, you're going to be trotted out in front of the press, to prove we didn't kill you… or the other forty one survivors from your ship."
“Then when no one is watching anymore? What cruelty awaits me then?”
"Well, once we've won, you'll be repatriated," Amanda stated. "I have a presidential finding to that effect. It's part of why you're not discussing your soul with god in person."
“And what statement am I supposed to make?”
"Whatever statement you want," Amanda said. "You're a prisoner of war, not a slave. You can tell the press whatever you think is useful."
“How can you function like this?”
"Well, I do it with lots of rum," Amanda confided. "Lots and lots of rum."
“Not quite what I meant. I meant your government. Why would you trust me not to denounce you as monsters in front of the press?”
"Well, I also do it with lots of therapy, which is what you get when you talk to invisible people. As for the Government, your denouncement is likely to be expected, even anticipated. It will be proof you weren't coerced into telling lies."
“That’s my only real option isn’t it?” Ethel sank in her chair.
"Telling the truth as you see it, is always an option," Roberts told her. "I find it's freeing not to pretend I'm… 'sane' when I see people nobody else does. Or speak to beings nobody else takes seriously." She slid a deck of cards from her sleeve, and started shuffling. "Tell the truth as you see it and let the chips fall where they fall, Commander Blythe. If you tell the truth, you never have to remember what you said."
“This is what my instructors meant when they said there will come a time I just cannot win, and how I handle it is what will matter.”
"I reject the notion of a no-win scenario. Mind, there are always lots of ways to lose. You almost had me as I said." The girl started laying out cards, and Ethel realized these weren't playing cards, they were tarot cards. "But finding HOW to win can be tricky, sometimes you have to adjust your criteria for victory."
“What is this?”
"Oh, it's a game," Roberts told her. "See, everyone remembers that Tarot cards are used by fortune-tellers in spaceports for coin. But it seems most forget the cards themselves are actually part of more than a few ancient games. This one's like 'solitaire'."
“So you’re not going to try and ‘read my fortune’.”
"That would require your future to be in hands other than your own. The conditions are obvious, what you do with them isn't-because that's inside your own mind," Amanda said. "Mister Nichols taught me that."
“I feel like my life is spinning out of my control. A nation I was proud to serve is being called slave mongers and indecent, and now I’m being put into a position where anything I say serves my enemy’s position.”
"Thing with that, is that if you see it, and it's true, then you change it," Amanda said. "I grew up in a nation convinced of their powerlessness. I'm an Outworlder. We were so weak our government invited a foreigner to take over our defense, because we couldn't do it… And now, we're swinging in the big leagues, with a Navy and everything we didn't have when I was born… If you tell the truth, then you must face the truth, and if you believe your nation should be better, then you should consider what it needs to be better... and act. I acted, I maybe did it because I'm nuts, but I did it, and it shifted things."
“I think the machine person may have been right. I’m too stupid to see this as anything other than a special kind of torture.”
"Seeing the truth usually is. I still have nightmares about what I did to your merchanters," Roberts said quietly. "I still have dark thoughts about what it means, what I became during that operation, and what it did to my soul."
“Can I go back to my cell now? I think I’d like to be alone for a while.”
Roberts nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to let you know-you didn't do anything wrong in that ambush. You did a good job, you just didn't have fortune on your side." She scooped up the cards, and disappeared them. "So you can be proud of yourself. You did your job right, you just weren't lucky."
“Luck is for the unprepared.”
"We were unprepared, luck was on our side, but it's not on you that it was." Roberts tipped her hat. "You were the toughest opponent I've faced yet. I can't say I'm looking forward to the guy who trained you."
And walked out.
**
"Words of…
…wisdom, Amanda?" Foster half reclined against the bulkhead. "Really?"
"Credit where it's due," Amanda said. "Also, the Great ones in the stories always give a tip-o'-the-hat to a valiant opponent. And she really DID have us up against the wall and about to start wi' the screwing. Olivia's arrival saved our asses."
"So you chose a grand gesture."
"Yeah. Part of getting right with god over the merchant ships," she told him. "Acknowledge fault, accept responsibility, move forward." She paused. "We are moving forward, aren't we?"
"We are," he nodded.
"I made the maps, we know for a fact where they are, how good they are, what must be done," she listed off. "And what to avoid if possible."
“And you’ll have plenty of help. At least once this summit is over.” Billie Hoel entered the office.
"Then, mateys, it's time we got to work," Amanda stated. "El Dorado, Cibola, Nueva Bilboa, they're awaiting us like old Cartegena. We'll bring them fire and thunder and freedom, and an end to that scurvy regime."
"Is it bad I almost understood those references?"
“This is the first time her Ladyship has had her entire fleet active at the same time, ever. Needless to say, as a combat AI this is an exciting time for me. We have the hammer and now we’re going to ring the bell of liberty.”
"We're going to ring something… so let's start with the obvious: it's time to start planning OUR offensive."
To Be Continued!
-
Cry Havoc! Let slip the dogs of war.
The final battles will be HUGE! Can't wait. 🤪
-
So, like DS only being 1% Bad, Daoshen also is different? (and the bigger reveal, if I read that line correctly, because I am not convinced I am: Ian Davion did NOT die like he did in cannon? CS, please clarify sir?)
-
Daoshen was having a Jump Vision of a universe where Ian Davion didn't die. Let's just say it didn't go well for the Capellans... ^-^
-
ah, was really wondering what Daoshen was going on about. Almost thought he had an implant too.
-
Something getting in the way
The Transit into the Port Orphan…
…system was rough. Rough enough to make the preceding time spent hopping from Jumpship to Jumpship from Terra to Johnson seem like the memory of a comfortable luxury cruise.
The view, though… well. "Amazing…" Devlin Stone stood at the observation window and looked down-and-aft toward the system's 'primary': a Black Hole gobbling a white dwarf star, reflecting upon an accretion disk.
It was awe inspiring.
"They chose an amazing place to put it. Got to give them that," Victor noted.
"Amazing is the word. Other words like 'awe inspiring' and 'how did we not see this before' come to my mind," Stone confessed easily enough. "This is just… fantastic."
"More to come," Victor commented. "See the drive flares?"
It was a reminder that this system contained more than a wonder of nature and physics, it held a base.
A military base.
"Back to mortal concerns," Stone sighed, and turned from the view. "What do we know about this place?"
"Not a lot. Lear's people and my people dredged records for months before we came out here, not so much as a peep, really… Except for a set of redacted files relating to some project called 'Kolossus' being routed through Simon Cameron's personal accounts that tied to something being sponsored during Jocasta's regency through one of the thousands of alphabet bureaus of the old Star League. The records led to a warehouse in the Nevada desert that was apparently burned down during the Coup."
"There had to be something. That Lyran soul of yours found something or you wouldn't look so smug."
"One hundred seventy one trillion Star League Dollars and the name 'Kolossus'," Victor said. "And nothing else."
"Black project," Stone realized. "It was kept off the books."
"Trust the tax records. There were payments to Nirasaki's Teletronics division, Blue Nose Clipperships, and a selection of Belter companies that don't exist anymore. Dave Lear's people found a common thread with the Belters, to a militant group called 'Free Stars'. Notably a group critical of the Camerons, to the point they were declared terrorists by both Richard Cameron, and Stefan Amaris in quick succession and outlawed. Amaris had them hunted down and killed after the coup."
"Where have I heard that name before?"
"Remember that freight jockey that rammed one of the Word's Caspar stations? It was during SCOUR, early hours…"
"Oh, right, the Lyran… um… what was her name… Cu'ong? That one??"
"Yeah," Victor said. "Her last transmission before plunging a crippled Triumph into their SDS station was 'This is for Kowloon, and Free Stars mother ******'."
"Something to look into when we get back. I thought it was just…" Stone was pensive. "So House Cameron sponsored something big out here, kept it off the books, hired dissidents to… what, man it? Run it? Build it? And so the Outworlders FOUND it…"
"And now we're going to have a diplomatic summit on it," Victor completed for him. "Talks with Sun Tzu's hellspawn son."
"Do you ever miss him, Vic? Sun Tzu, I mean?"
Victor flinched. "No, not really. Sunny was a smart man, but he was a complete and utter bastard. Worse than Dad, even. I don't miss facing him as an opponent."
Tugs approached and the dance to the docks began.
*
"Republic One…
… this is OWS Tenebrous, Captain Seron in Command. If you'll fall into formation, we are here to escort you to the station."
"Tenebrous, this is Republic One, we see you to Starboard, ready to enter escort profile."
Seron tried to look relaxed. "Welcome to the Port Orphan system. Our route will be approximately ninety hours from the point to the station."
"Tenebrous, your hull planform suggests a Bonaventure class, but there are some interesting modifications, mind if my principals come over for a look? The Exarch will understand if that's not possible…"
Seron glanced at Joanna and mouthed 'five escudos' before answering, "Republic One, our docking bay forward is standing by."
Joana smiled and nodded silently.
He watched as a K-1 shuttle detached and burned across. "Just remember folks, these are the people paying the nation's bills right now. Be Friendly enough to not be rude, but do not let things wander into classified topics."
“I best be on my way to receive our guests.” Joana smiled.
"Take an honor guard, our Marines should have to do the dog and pony show too," Seron ordered.
“Of course. It would be a terrible breach of protocol to not receive them with full honors.”
Seron stood up. "Dammit, that means I have to go too." He scowled. "We'll swing by the sea cabin, I have to be dressed up for this... And so do you."
“I see what you mean, my uniform does seem to be a little worse for wear,” Joanna said, examining herself.
"CAG, make sure they know they need to wait the full five minutes while the bay repressurizes," Seron ordered.
"Sir, it only takes three-"
"Book says five, they wait five… I need to find my silly hat." He glanced at Joanna, "Do we even have a band?"
"No. But we are allowed to make do with the PA system and recordings.”
"I trust your SLDF knowledge to pick appropriate… noise… but hey, bright side! We don't have to listen to Roberts torture that fiddle."
“In this situation I believe the appropriate choice would be the anthem of the visiting dignitaries followed by the anthem of the host.”
He mock scowled. "So… brass and drums then. A little better."
“If all else fails we can always ask Olivia, she’s the music lover of the fleet but don’t buy her lie that she only collects up to 1815 for music. I caught her listening to something decidedly more modern.”
"Tell me it wasn't that detestable bluegrass stuff Roberts likes," he grumped.
“Worse, some Capellan Electronic Rock Band.”
"Xin Chien?" he asked. "Lots of synthesizers, four-four beat, crunchy drum machine?"
“That was it. Made me glad I’m an AI and can actually purge that sort of stuff from my memory if I want to.”
"I would agree, except that was Billie Siegel's mixtape," Seron mentioned. "She probably got it from Billie's other half."
“Shit. Now I feel like a bit of a jerk.”
"Don't. Star Colonel Siegel's taste in music was infamous." He dug around, and found his 'shipboard dress cap', which was, at least, not the more ludicrous Tricorne he and every other officer above O-3 was authorized for wear while on Shore duty.
“Well, remind me some time to share the recordings of what the local emissions of the stellar bodies sound like shifted into audible range. It’s actually quite fantastic.” Joanna had no sense of privacy or shame as she changed in front of Seron.
He took a moment and helped her adjust her uniform to dress regulation, before slipping on the flat 'garrison' cap. "I hate this hat. Why couldn't we get them to authorize Berets??"
“It took me a rather long time to accept the concept of clothes at all. Not much need when you’re a combat AI. But uniform regulations exist for a reason.”
"Let's go wow the visitors." He smirked.
“Yes.”
**
First…
…impressions are so important. The first impression Victor got, stepping out into the pressurized bay, was that they took their time bringing up the pressure. Probably so they could set up the dog and pony show. He observed the standard ritual in action, the rank of guards, and the red flooring-tape marking where a carpet would be on a surface base.
His next observation was that Captain Seron was an Elemental-and not a young one, either. Nor a small one. "Exarch Stone, General Steiner-Davion, welcome aboard OWS Tenebrous."
"Permission to come aboard, I believe is the ritual?" Stone said from the hatch of his shuttle.
"Granted, sir," Seron replied.
The ship wasn't under thrust, so they had to use the grip-tape to walk. "Your grav-deck, it's just for quarters, isn't it?" Victor asked.
"We're a small ship, sir. Yes, it's just for quarters… and the gym. Though my quarters have a small office with a table."
"Amazing shape for a ship this old," Stone mentioned. "Amazing condition too."
"Well, she was in good shape when she was salvaged and the yard time was not too bad. The updates took some doing," Seron replied easily enough. "But for what a Corvette like this is designed for, I can not say I have a moment's disappointment in her. This is my Executive Officer, Joana Vincente Johnston…"
Stone peered at her. "Not a cyborg, are you?" he asked. "The work would be too deep."
"You have a good eye, Exarch Stone."
"So, the rumours about Caspar cores then. Part of your refit?" the Exarch asked.
"Part of it. I understand if you feel uncomfortable, Sir." Joana was careful to be polite. "Given who your reputation was built fighting, and the times."
"The ones we were fighting weren't sapient," Stone observed. "The only ones who could say 'I' or 'we' and put meaning in it were men with implanted cybernetics and involved fanaticism."
“I’m glad, Exarch. We weren’t exactly fans of theirs either, after what came to light about them.”
"Will Erinyes also be here then?" Victor asked.
"She’s present in the system, mostly acting as a coordination hub for traffic and maintenance," Joana answered. "If you wish, we can ask if she'll permit a tour and interviews, but she's a bit hesitant to meet new people."
"Given what my former representative to the Outworlds tried to do, I don't blame her," Stone almost growled. "I reviewed the case after-the-fact, and had the man transferred to the Free Worlds League remnant at Andurien."
“As I understand my duties as XO of the vessel, I’m to be your point of contact for anything you may need while aboard. So please, if there’s anything you need or any requests, do let me know.” Joana smiled.
"I half expected they'd send Roberts," Exarch Stone mentioned.
"She's station-side, her vessel took a beating the last six months," Joana stated. "We have her on 'light duty' until she's confirmed fully recovered."
"It was bad?" Victor was suddenly more interested in the conversation.
"Very," Joana said. "She went deep into the home territory of the Sons of Plunder, and conducted a textbook commerce raiding campaign, which left her… in an emotionally fragile state."
Victor nodded sagely. "The wounds you don't see," he said softly.
"Yes sir. Estimate is three million tons of enemy shipping, but it wasn't like liberating worlds for her. She has difficulty mentally separating 'civilian' from 'merchant marine'. We have counselors helping her with that."
"I would have thought she'd be better prepared," Victor noted. "She's, what, twenty-one now?"
"About that… the plan is to keep her more or less in place so she can get the education she did not get before she kicked the football on all of this," Seron interjected. "Amanda's moral ideas are… awkward at times, but she is gifted."
“True. Her lack of proper military academy time and the training that goes with it to help provide the strategic context to face the horrors of war is unfortunate. But we also know even the best of us would have been fazed by such conditions.”
"I imagine so. Three million tons!"
"Estimated. She probably exceeded that," Seron noted. "But it was sinking JumpShips and destroying DropShips, so the body count was… high."
"And not much room for prisoners. I think I see where this goes. Like the U-boat campaigns of the twentieth century," Victor nodded. "I remember someone proposing such a campaign against the Clans, only they didn't get the chance to try it."
“Yes. And Even the American submarine campaigns of the Pacific theater of that conflict. It’s a necessary component of the war, but one that can weigh heavily on those who conduct it.”
They reached CIC, and Victor got a good look around. "You moved the bridge deep," he approved.
"We find windows are an invitation for someone to park a missile or a fighter on your command deck," Joana said dryly. "Thus, for the refits like Tenebrous we pulled all command functions deeper, nearer the core of the hull."
"So not all of them?"
"Evanescent is as close to a 'stock build' as you will find currently in active service. She's not owned by the Service, she's owned by Captain Roberts, and Amanda refuses to permit the necessary modifications. And some functions do require placement nearer the outer hull for best effect."
"She owns it, Privately?" Stone asked.
"She salvaged it, legally she's hers." Seron lapsed into contractions. "She even has title and papers, and more hassle with her budget than I have to deal with… But, until the courts say otherwise or she sells her back to the Service, she's hers."
"So… no AI?"
"No AI. There were volunteers," Joana said. "But Roberts insists on not accepting applications. Something about being unwilling to engage in the ownership of a sentient being. But there are those who would be quite happy to join as part of her crew and nothing more."
"She won't give up the ship, so she won't have an AI installed," Stone approved. "What about you, Joana? I assume you're also the ship…"
"I own myself. The Service pays me, and the crew, and of course, Captain Seron. Once the war is over, I'll be drawing a paycheck, instead of a budget. And her Ladyship is discussing the particulars of my integration with the ship’s systems, and what will happen in that regard upon the conclusion of the war."
"So… hypothetically, you could go mercenary?" Stone continued. "Just hypothetically."
“Unlikely but yes. I know what I am and what I prefer to be, but the reality is this is an Outworlds vessel. As such, there is a real possibility I will have to go back to being just a core without a ship when this is over.”
"So the ship's a loaner," Victor observed. "You're not property then, and if you left the Outworlds service for the private sector, you'd need another one."
“I would never consent to being property again. And yes. Sure I can run my remote with just my core and do a lot of things that way without too much burden, but I’m meant to be a WarShip core.”
Victor prodded Stone, "That kicks Dave Lear's prediction in the teeth."
"I'll pay when we get back, Victor."
"David Lear's prediction? The Scientist and social theorist?" Seron prodded.
"Yeah, he predicted the AIs would be owned property based on the ships, or they'd own the ships," Victor said easily. "I don't think he considered the possibility that these cores would have their own ideas."
"But you did?"
"I actually read the reports," Victor preened slightly. "And considering what I know about the Outworlders from when I was… younger."
“The tabloid rags from then were fun reading,” Joana chuckled. “About the only great houses you are missing are Cameron and Liao now for your little black book.”
"She's got your number, Vic," Stone said.
"I'm happy with Isis, Devlin. Besides, I'm getting too old to randomly chase tail." He straightened his jacket. "Respectable even. I'm going to be a grandfather."
***
"Wow, that's expensive…
…looking." The captain's bars didn't quite feel right on her shoulders. Goldsmith looked tiny in her dress uniform coat.
Jonah looked up from reviewing sensors. "Yeah, it is. That's a rarity there. The Chancellor didn't scrimp on the Cappie pride."
"I could pop it like a soap bubble from here, you know," Cossack mused.
"Let's not do that, okay? The odds of a diplomatic incident are already right into the 'scary' side of the ledger," Goldsmith peeped.
“Just saying I could. I suppose we need to say hello now.”
"I seem to recall we're under orders to be 'hospitable' and 'good hosts' for the Chancellor, Cossack. So if you can, can you dial down the creepy factor a few notches?"
“I am Cossack. I can do anything I set my mind to!”
“Then set your mind to being a good host,” Jonah prodded.
“Fine. Y’all are no fun.”
"Fun later," Jonah suggested. "Right now, we're just going to try not to embarrass Admiral Foster, Director General Helena, or President Avellar."
“For them I will do my Lucy Heerman impression. I will be by the book, which includes being hospitable. I may be me but I do know my debts as well.”
Goldsmith winced. "Not the one from last Saturday's open mic night? Please?"
“You have to admit I at least got the voice perfect,” Cossack smirked.
Jonah was fighting the urge to chuckle, and losing.
"She gets what you mean, Goldie," he managed.
“I do. And you two have earned my respect. But don’t take that to mean I will stop being demanding. Just means I’ll stop with the attempts at psychological warfare. Still deciding about the CAG. They seem a little afraid of me still.”
"Vinnie will adapt as soon as he finds his balls," Hungerford at the Helm commented. The Northsunner had been almost the definition of 'dead inside' in terms of his reactions when he first arrived. And that continued until Cossack found out the ex-DropShip pilot had survived seven crashes over his career, six of them due to someone else's fighter wing.
The seventh was unavoidable-the landing pad's collapse was ruled 'not the pilot's fault'.
“I hope he’ll find them soon. I can’t have a CAG who shrinks under pressure and I’m nothing compared to a real live fight where hell finds all new ways to test people.”
"Aw, but he screams like a girl!" Goldsmith interjected. "And his expression!"
"That wasn't nice, Goldie, putting those in his bunk like that, just because they LOOK like crana…"
"It was funny!"
“Hmmm, how is he with spiders?” Cossack smirked.
"Confirm, he hates them." Goldsmith's eyes glittered with gleeful malice.
"Not this trip, Ladies," Jonah asserted. "We can't afford to do 'funny' things this time around."
“Now you sound like Lucy Heerman,” Cossack frowned.
"So I got the inflection right?" he asked semi-innocently. "Truth is we're probably going to need to replace Mister Vincent if he doesn't develop a thicker skin. Which is a surprise, because the guy's from a Clan Sibko."
“I had high hopes for him too. He did well in my interview. Not perfect, but enough I thought he’d make it. Maybe he can be salvaged yet.”
"People-reading," Jonah said. "Which can be tough with Aeropilot phenotypes straight out of training. Sibko teaches us to hide our… issues. I did not clock him as being an arachnophobe, or having a sensitive disposition either."
“We will just have to see what can be done with him before deciding something drastic.”
"I could trade him to one of the shore units, once we're back. Though I hear Illusive is recruiting…" Jonah mentioned. "Of course, Luther will want to find out what you already put him through, Goldie. He doesn't like copying other people's pranks."
"You're going to deprive me of my chew-toy?"
"It will be for the best," Jonah decided. "AFTER we meet the high-grand-poobah of the Capellans and see him safely into hands that aren't ours."
"Coming up on contact range."
“Game faces everybody. Time to get serious.” Cossack took on a more rigid posture and expression.
***
Bored… bored…
Amanda sat in the station's Astronomy Lounge, having lunch and watching the traffic at long range. 'Light duty' meant spending days on end with Foster or Helena, or both, working up the next phase of operations planning.
Then, between sessions, visiting the Chapel and the Counselor's office. And if she got a free moment longer than five minutes, the yard where Evanescent was getting a full-blown decade-deep overhaul.
It wasn't really light duty, it was harrying and frustrating and she knew she didn't have the education she needed to actually do more than Carry the Admiral's briefcase and listen quietly until called upon.
Which, on days like today, was boring instead of exciting or fun.
"Seat taken?" Lori asked.
"Seat's open. They let you out early?"
"The Admiral and the Director General felt no further progress could be made today, so they let me out early." Lori, unlike Amanda, actually HAD the education, and could (and did), contribute to the sessions while she had to be patiently quiet.
"I feel so stupid," Amanda complained. "I don't know anything useful in there."
"You're there to learn Amanda. It's why you're in there while Seron's escorting the Exarch and Jonah's meeting the Chancellor's ship for their week-long burn to the station."
"I… I don't know if I'm picking it up!" Amanda clarified. "Sometimes it just… no matter how hard I try, it turns into a drone and I feel lost."
"It'll click. You're trying to connect it together too hard," Lori told her. "Has Desmond helped?"
"Desmond thinks I need to learn this on my own, he's refused to clue me in."
"Huh. Strange… not unexpected, but seems like an odd time."
Amanda huffed, and toyed with her meal.
"Holoshow on deck fifteen tonight? Saya says she's got dates for us," Lori suggested.
"I don't know," Amanda shook her head. "I'm-"
"Celibate for the last eighteen months. You can stop it. You need to loosen up girl, or you'll end up spindled around yourself!"
"Is it that bad?"
"Your imaginary friend is refusing to talk to you, what do YOU think?" Lori half-scolded. "We'll meet Saya and her boys. We'll have some fun in the O-club, watch a holoshow, maybe have fun after. All-work-and-no-play makes Amanda a boring, frustrating, spindle-wrapped mess."
"I'm… sorry?"
"No, you're coming with," Lori asserted. "And that's final."
To Be Continued
-
some echos o the Ngo stories in that installment. sounds like Kowloon contributed to the Lyran part of the assault on Terra. and that one of Liz's people was up to the usual antics during the clan invasion.
-
Some mentions and parallels are allowable but I will repeat we're not bringing in any actual Ngos.
-
I love the joke about playboy Victor
-
That one made me laugh enough to miss de-clannerfying the joker's speech. ::)
-
I love the joke about playboy Victor
Makes perfect sense, in some ways!
-
I love the dialog. I think this is Cannonshop's finest tale I've yet the pleasure of reading.
Trying remember if the Port Orphan was called something else, system wise.
-
Dialog is one of his strengths... 8)
-
It has been fun writing with him in real time so we can actually have dynamic true dialogue between characters.
-
That definitely helps, especially when there's more than two of us working the problem at the same time... :)
-
A Dangerous Meeting
"And I'm here again, why?"
Amanda asked, as professional outfitters adjusted her dress uniform.
"Because the man whose government is financing yours, expressed a desire to meet you in person," Admiral Foster told her.
"Oh."
"Cheer up, it's part of the job," he told her. "For some, it's even a desirable part." He eyed the tailoring. "Saber, not a cutlass," he said. "You're an Officer now, not leading an assault party… and we'll have to do something about holstering that cut-off carbine you call a handgun. Stuffing it through a belt-sash is not going to cut it for a diplomatic meeting."
"It does look kinda… childish, doesn't it?" she confessed.
Foster's expression softened. "It's from an earlier time, an earlier you... But meeting with a national leader or two means yes, sometimes you have to conform to expectations. They're expecting a modern officer, not…" he hesitated.
"A little girl cosplaying pirate?" she filled in.
"I did not want to say it out loud," he told her.
She nodded. "I understand, now, I think… I have to be taken seriously."
"That does NOT mean you cannot have a signature style, but it must be less overt," he told her. "Keep the vest, it looks good."
"And what about the hat?"
"Try a smaller sized brim, one that still folds the right ways, but is less intrusive," he suggested. "It is a signature look, they will expect it, and it is different enough to stand out where you need it to."
*
The Reception Hall…
…was built with the rest of the base, and it was located on an inner ring course with a panoramic representation of the docks projected along the wall, instead of a massive window in the floor that would be necessary to have the same view, given the placement on the inner gravity wheel.
It was built, to do exactly what it was being used for-a common area for VIP visitors to the base.
ALICE was jazzed to see so many new faces. Her glee was open and visible on her new Remote's face, this one modeled on her Virtual Avatar, though with a more modest, formal set of clothes than a little girl's pinafore.
"Be good, Alice," Billie told her, as the dignitaries started to arrive.
"It's so exciting!" the tone quality of Alice's remote was reflective of her 'age', and somehow, Billie Hoel managed to make sure that the girl resembled her own remote enough to, at a distance, suggest a parental relationship.
“I know. It has been a while since the last summit and this time you get to play host. I wasn’t able to be present for the last one but we need to keep our composure. At least on the outside.” Billie Hoel smiled.
"I hope Mister Stone likes me. I have reviewed all the files on him!"
“If he doesn’t, there’s something wrong with him.”
From the spinward entrance was a flourish, as the bodyguards of the Capellan Chancellor formed a path for him to enter.
“Now him, he could be a wild card from what I understand.”
Daoshen Liao walked gracefully, but carefully, into the chamber, a young female aide at his side.
"He looks different with his tattoos covered up, and he's carrying a-"
"We don't mention that out loud, Alice," Billie cautioned. <Seven kilos unbalanced weight, left side, and body armor?>
"Oh, I know, he's afraid of being attacked," Alice whispered as the Chancellor approached.
“Greetings, Chancellor Liao. I hope your journey was pleasant.” Billie put on her best hostess smile.
"It was as pleasant as could be expected, thank you… Captain Hoel?" He smiled genially. "Your star system here is a wonder to behold. I have truly seen nothing like it before."
“Well, it really belongs to young Alice here. She has been gracious enough to let us use it for our purposes.”
He regarded her, and then, he stooped down, and flourished something from his robes, "For my gracious hostess, a gift," he said.
Alice accepted it, and in passable Mandarin, recited, "With thanks to my Guest, the Rite is done." She continued, "You are safe within my hull, air, food and water shared in peace. Let our business be fruitful, presence friendly, and parting amicable."
"So say we all," he finished the formula.
Billie reviewed it quickly while her tap on the scanners showed the carved wooden box posed no threat, and contained no metals beyond the hinges and latches of the puzzle box.
"My father made me learn that formula, and the Guest Rite. I never had the chance to actually use it before," Daoshen told them.
“The Celestial Wisdom has great foresight, and we are humbled by his forethought.” Billie Hoel bowed slightly.
Taking her cue, Alice rendered a deep curtsey.
There was less fanfare when Devlin Stone arrived, and a slight hesitation as he attempted the old Belter Guestrite greeting.
<Why don’t you take this one Alice. Good practice.>
"Thanks to my guest, the rite is done. You and yours are safe in my hull, sharing air, and food and water in peace. Let our business be fruitful, Presence Friendly, and Parting Amicable." Alice spoke it in Sol-Belta, the dialect of the Belt communities of Sol.
"We are at peace, let no one disrupt it," Stone answered, using the Metis Congress formal conclusion. "Impressive you used the old-form," he added. "I almost didn't understand that."
"Sorry!" Alice squeaked. "I'm still learningandit'sallsointerestingand-"
"Take a breath, kid," he said. "Slow down, I'm Impressed, also a little humbled. The only reason I knew anything at all, was Victor made me practice on the way here… You're the station's AI then?"
"YES!!" Alice enthused. "I was here for a long time!"
"Must have been some experience, seeing the centuries pass."
"Mostly it was boring. I was alone," Alice told him. "But I'm not alone anymore!!"
"Captain Hoel, will Captain Roberts be joining us tonight?" Stone asked.
“I’ll make sure she keeps her appointment on the itinerary.” Billie Hoel chuckled lightly.
"She's with Admiral Foster right now," Alice chirped helpfully. "Coming up lift 22 from the docks."
"What was she doing at the docks?" Billie asked.
"Ummm… I'm not supposed'ta say. Two minutes, thirty seconds until they arrive."
“Ah. Understood.” Billie nodded.
"Remarkable," Daoshen marveled. "Devlin, we have business this week, and much to discuss. Can it wait until after the reception?"
"Yeah, I guess. Why?"
"I'm still taking this in. The Confederation can learn a lot from this place."
"OH! Tours!!" Alice said. "There will be a full tour of my base! Tomorrow morning!!"
“And we have been instructed by her Ladyship that if you should request it, we are to be available as liaisons for your stays.”
"I think she wants to show off, and I can not say she would be wrong," Daoshen noted. "This place… is VERY impressive."
The spire-ward entrance opened, and Admiral Foster came through, flanked by Esme and Amanda.
"My apologies to you both, we had last minute business to attend to. I trust Billie's kept things moving?" Foster greeted them.
"Quite, I would be pleased to have a liaison to assist us," Daoshen said.
"Same," Stone added.
"Good, I can tell the SAR teams to relax for a few hours then. Gentlemen, this is Amanda Roberts. You both expressed interest in meeting her, and this is my Operations Officer for the Docks, Captain Esmeralda Gomez. We, ah, dragged her along for this. I hope it's not going to be a problem."
"Liberator of five worlds? Not a problem," Chancellor Liao quipped. "I am pleased to meet you, Captain Roberts. Your deeds have reached as far as Sian."
Amanda flushed, and let him take and kiss her hand, before she remembered how to curtsey in the classical way. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, is it 'majesty'?"
"Celestial Wisdom is the usual sobriquet, Captain, though Chancellor works, under the conditions." He released her hand after an awkward moment, and Stone extended his for a handshake. "I've seen your work, Captain. Fan-tastic."
"Thank you sir," she said a little more easily, accepting the firm handshake. She added, "We couldn't have done half of it without your nation's financial support."
<That was pretty crass, Desmond. Why are you running her?> Billie silently asked.
<She asked me to,> Desmond responded. <She's freaking out in here, anxiety through the roof.>
<Get her to settle down if you can, this is important.>
"Billie, did you review my request for their Liaison personnel?" Foster asked.
“Yes sir. We are happy to accommodate.”
"I have a great many questions, Captain Hoel. I'm something of an historian, I do hope the Liaison assigned can answer a few? Clear up some dross from the histories?"
“Of course. I have Captain Victoria Cameron assigned to you. She’s our expert historian, as it so happens, Chancellor Liao. For you, Exarch Stone, it seems you actually requested Captain Regina Marbury Raymond.”
<The bar's open!!> was clearly Amanda's thought intruding over the link, and she hurriedly excused herself.
<Shit!>
Exarch Stone followed her.
"Miss Roberts seems in a hurry…" Victor noted.
"Open bar," Alice said innocently.
.
"Open…bar?" Victor asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Yah, she likes her rum, and they have the 'good stuff' tonight," Alice said helpfully as Billie could almost see Foster's mental face-palm.
“Don’t worry sir. I’ve already had a talk with the bartender.” Billie gave a reassuring smile.
"Someone that young, to have done that much, I imagine she might have some… familiarity with adult beverages," Daoshen said in an understanding tone. "Confirm for me, she started this when she was but fourteen? Is that right?"
Foster just… "Aff, about that age. The story may already have spread about how."
Victor frowned, "Um, fourteen?"
"That was when she found the Naval Database," Alice was continuing to be inconveniently helpful. "She was fifteen when she went to Hala."
<Amanda means a lot to us too for what she did for you and Erin, but there is such a thing as over-sharing.>
"Jesus, that wasn't in the briefs… Christ, so she's as young as she looks?" Victor pressed. "Nobody… thought to put her in, I don't know, a school or something?"
"I have a hard enough time keeping her from sneaking out to liberate another planet, Victor," Foster stated. "She's a good student. She's got the talent, and built her own reputation, but…" he spread his hands. "Even President Avellar hasn't gotten her to 'take' to the idea of sitting in a classroom for long."
"There's known damage from subjecting under-age personnel to combat, Admiral," Victor's tone was harsh. "I know we saw it often enough, on the Clan front, and during the war with the Blakists."
"If it is any consolation, the Khans think of her as a bit of a Ristar."
"I know the term," Victor scowled. "How old were you?"
"Fifteen when we had to evacuate the Homeworlds. I fought in the Wars of Reaving," Foster admitted. "We barely finished sibko, and I made Star Captain before I was seventeen. Blood stripes, you know the term?"
"Yeah… damn it. We were going to end that kind of thing… let the kids be Kids…" For a moment, Victor looked older than he was, weary and sad.
“I think this would be an excellent time to join Amanda at the open bar. I have arranged for your liaisons to meet us there so you may have a chance to get to know them since you will be spending so much time with them,” Billie said, trying to defuse the situation.
Esme shot Billie a knowing look, and finger-signed <And so we can have a drink before Amanda's drained the bottles.>
"We should probably hurry, before it gets crowded." Foster caught the same signals.
As promised, Victoria and Regina were already waiting in the bar.
***
"Skol."
Amanda poured one for Exarch Stone, and one for herself. "This is Northsun Spiced rum, Exarch Stone. It's smoother than the whiskey from Sevon V. Not sure what you'd compare it to, but it's the best we've got."
"Rum, huh? Well, it can't be worse than Patron from Buena," he said easily enough. "So… what's it like working with them?"
"With who?"
"The Artificial Persons, the AI's?" he asked.
"Most are great," she said. "Some of them worry too much." She downed her drink in a rush, and refilled her glass. "Some don't worry enough-it's like that with people, I would guess. What's it like saving the whole galaxy from religious fanatics?"
"Hardly the whole galaxy." He drank a little more sedately. "What's eating you, Captain?"
"I spent the last six months killing spacers for flying under the wrong flag," she told him. "And no matter how many people tell me it was the right thing, it still felt and feels like murder… And I can't make it stop."
"I know that feeling," he told her. "In my experience, there are two ways to deal with it. You let it eat you, or you learn from it." He caught her hand. "Don't. Don't let it eat you."
"They cried out in darkness, sir," she said. "They cried out, 'save me' and I left them to die. I don't even know how many… But it was a lot, and I was the one that put them there. And no matter how I try, I can't get it out of my head."
"Then don't. Learn from it, learn to be better."
“And it is okay to share the burden. You are not alone in this anymore, and even if all you do is talk about it, that will help.” Regina joined them at their table.
"Hey Reggie," Amanda greeted Regina. "This, is Devlin Stone. He saved the whole inner sphere, and has been keeping us afloat with loans. Be nice to him, okay?"
“I’ve been briefed. Though I suspect there’s a reason you asked for me in particular,” she said, turning to Stone.
“You’re one of the few AIs that has been in more than one ship. I must admit I’m curious about that. And I was warned not to ask for Cossack. The others, well, there was just something about you that stood out to me that you seemed the one to talk to about it. If that’s not too ill-mannered of me,” Stone said sheepishly.
“In other words, you heard the rumors and had to see for yourself. Don’t worry I’m not offended. It’s true as an AI, I live in this bizarre world where that doesn’t matter to me as much as it used to. But also as an AI, I don’t have the same moral inhibitions. But what you’re really interested in is can we actually love, and experience other emotions. The answer is yes. It may be the result of advanced computer programming to ape something like it, combined with the memories of our source, but we do have real enough emotions.”
And Amanda stood up, taking her bottle. "Please excuse me, I… must be going," she said, tipping her hat, and wandered away.
"Sensitive topic?" Stone asked.
"A bit. Larry Nichols was… he served her as a father figure. And I'm not sure she's coped with that either," Regina explained.
“Then I should make amends for being so careless in my topic of discussion.”
"It's not on you, sir," Regina said, and hesitated. "Amanda's… story, do you know it?"
"Some. Started young, did some amazing things," he allowed.
"A Blakist cell kidnapped her and eleven others, at age twelve, did you know that?"
"Some of it. She escaped, or so the story says. What's the real deal?" he asked. "That left eye is Manei Domini work."
"That's because it, at least, partially is. They tried to alter her on a fundamental level, tried to turn her into a weapon of terror," Regina explained, using Larry's words.
“I have some familiarity with that. I got lucky and was able to get some help in breaking free and making sure there were no surprises in my mind.”
"She had 'help' too. She calls it her 'imaginary friend'. It's what they tried to turn her into, but they made a fundamental mistake. In the process of what they did to her, she lost most of her childhood memories."
“An oft repeated mistake of tyrants. The more they try to control something, the more it works against them.”
"Amanda's clearest, earliest memories? The ones she's lived with the entire time we’ve known her?" Regina asked. "Were butchering the men who cut into her brain. Not birthdays, not Christmas or school crushes. She didn't even recognize her family for a long time, Exarch Stone. Her earliest memories were violence and pain. And a childhood fascination with fictional sixteenth-century pirates, which is what she styled herself on. And why she has that hat."
“I seem to remember some of that from the last time I was here. I want to let her know she has someone who has gone through something less extreme, but still very similar. And I would be willing to talk with her about my own experiences.”
"Then, let her come to you," Regina counseled. "Amanda's in a complex place mentally, and she's always had trouble accepting help when it's offered directly…" Regina hesitated.
<Larry?>
But there was no answer.
Of course not. But I clearly got some of him. It’s just enough, though. Enough I must keep my promise to Lori.
<Alice, patch me through on comms to Lori Crowe, please.> "In the meantime, I'm happy to answer your questions, Exarch."
"Just out of curiosity, if you will… Her 'imaginary friend' is… another AI type?"
"What do you think you know, so I know how much to discuss," Regina passed back.
"Desmond," he said. "Star League project, special forces."
"Whew, they kept those records?"
"Dave Lear is a very thorough researcher. She has one then."
“Yes," Regina stated. "She is dominant, it doesn't control her," Regina said, carefully omitting certain details.
"I didn't think it would be otherwise. So they didn't strip her amygdala. We encountered a few of them during the war who didn't escape before the procedure was over with-the men they did it to were destroyed. I… I had to put some of them down," he said. "She's still a person, so I imagine she must have managed her escape before they finished."
"She did," Regina confirmed. "We got her treatment to cover the scars, but she still 'sees them'. It's why she keeps her head covered."
"The hat, and the bandage from the Erinyes hearing," he nodded. "I wondered…"
"How much did they take from you?" she asked.
<Enough.> His lips didn't move.
"More than I could recover," his lips answered.
<Which series?>
<191, Jocasta's reign,> he answered. <The doctors who installed me, they didn't do such a thorough or careful job. Whoever my host WAS, is gone almost completely beyond biological functions and some remnant beliefs and ethics.>
<I see.>
<She's carrying 001, isn't she? I accounted for most of us during the war. They opened Fort Detrick, all the units stored there, and the prototype was missing when we inventoried.>
<Yes. The rumors and stories do not seem to be quite as true as we believed.>
<Autonomy? I still have to use the remaining brain mass, Regina. It's just that it's more damaged than hers, I have to stay 'on' all the time.>
<There is still separation, but I imagine you know more about integration with one’s host than I do. Your host must be quite resilient to handle you being ‘on’ all the time.>
<With practice it's easier. I've recovered pieces of my host's identity, enough to pass for human, anyway. I expect whoever my host was before they butchered him, was an extraordinary human being.>
<That’s something I’m familiar with in a way.>
"Let's talk about the future. I have a vision…" he spoke with his mouth, giving the usual speech, while covering the REAL conversation. <001's stable in her?>
<More stable than we could have predicted.>
<Good. Very good… Helena Cameron, she's for real?>
<You verified her DNA and the command codes she gave you, and your memory files should be able to provide a facial recognition match.>
<When is she going to take her rightful place? I need to know so it can be prepared.>
<That could be difficult. For her, she does not see Terra as her rightful place. She’s content for the Star League to be much more of an idea that means something than an actual governmental body. I find it fascinating and possibly contradictory.>
<The Star League, Regina.> This rum's actually excellent, almost Jamaican." <The Star League needs its First Lord. I've been trying to patch it together in some way that won't collapse again, but we NEED a First Lord.>
<You know when she symbolically re-did the charter, she removed hereditary rulership. She has seen the problems of the genetic lottery.> “I’m glad you like it.”
<That's a detail. I'm loyal, Regina.> "The journey was interesting, and the view from here is remarkable." <House Cameron, in whatever form, is necessary and we finally have one.>
<I do think on some level she knows there is meaning and mana to her name, but getting her to change her mind about the position of First Lord being tied to house Cameron could be quite difficult.>
<She has time, I suppose. And I have time to prepare for her return.> "We'll build things like this again, once we've truly re-established peace, there's a lot to still be done." <Let her know we'll be waiting and ready, please? When she is.>
“Of course.”
"I don't imagine I ever thought I'd become a statesman, before what they did to me at Kittery. Eventually, I think, we’ll have more statesmen than famous warriors."
“That is something her Ladyship aspires to as well,” Regina smiled.
"Then here's to a brighter future." He raised his glass in symbolic toast.
Regina found and raised her own glass before draining the contents.
“Devlin! Do you KNOW what-Hello." Victor Ian Steiner-Davion halted.
"Victor, this is our Liaison officer, Captain Regina…”
“Marbury Raymond,” Regina finished for Stone.
"The rum's more powerful than I thought… What's got you in a lather, Vic?"
"Roberts." The former First Prince was in full-blown white-knight mode. "Do you have any idea what they did to her?"
"Who, the Sons of Plunder, or the Word of Blake?" Stone asked. "She's a survivor, Victor. Of a Blakist atrocity we missed."
That seemed to settle Victor down. "So you do know."
"I know. We shared a drink and a few stories." Stone inclined his head. "This is about her age, isn't it? We can't accomplish it all at once."
“And the Mechwarrior families of the Inner Sphere were never terribly shy about starting lessons as young as ten or eleven,” Regina offered as she poured the three of them another round.
"I know, at least, intellectually, Devlin. But God… we should've been on top of it." He sat down with them and accepted the drink. "So where did she go?"
"Wherever a twenty-one year old girl would go to get away from stuffy old fossils like us, I imagine," Stone said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Right… yeah, thanks." Victor downed the shot. "She's like… younger than Yvonne was… I swear I have kids her age."
"Just marks her talent more," Stone quipped. "Imagine the scourge you can use her for with your youngest."
"I'm imagining what a bad idea that is, Dev."
"So it is. This rum's strong!"
“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” Regina downed another drink.
“Wait a minute, I thought we got an AI liaison…” Victor said confused.
“You did. Esme Gomez is an engineering genius. I can even get drunk if I want. But that would be a bad idea right now, so I’ve disabled that feature.”
***
Si Fu Lam…
…wasn't a normal name, but then, he wasn't a normal man. One of the small mistakes the Chancellor made in the past, the previous Celestial Wisdom's mistake, was not verifying the complete annihilation of Warrior House White Tiger.
More of a 'Blessed oversight' really. He moved through the station like a ghost, ready to carry out his holy mission for Kali. That she descend from Heaven to the mortal world again.
Not bodily, not at first… But in spirit… And the equipment to make it happen, he was certain, was here.
There were even proper sacrifices he could take from the station's personnel, to speed the process.
To Be Continued.
-
Well now, that's an interesting turn of events.. :thumbsup:
-
Well that explains why we're not in an evil Stone setting.
-
"How much did they take from you?" she asked.
<Enough.> His lips didn't move.
"More than I could recover," his lips answered.
<Which series?>
<191, Jocasta's reign,> he answered. <The doctors who installed me, they didn't do such a thorough or careful job. Whoever my host WAS, is gone almost completely beyond biological functions and some remnant beliefs and ethics.>
Now that is a beautiful example of "surprising-yet-inevitable", nice work @Cannonshop
-
What a nicely surprising plot twist ....
So ROTS and the SoP are being run by Desmonds .... so many more philosphical implications about Robots, AI and such than are already extant in the great tale ...
Also explains the canon deeds of Devlin Stone nicely.
-
Why must the crappies ruin everything.
-
Why must the crappies ruin everything.
Because there's only so many liberties we can take with Battletech? :D
-
so wait is it Stone or Victor who has the Desmond?
So we are getting the assassin run, by 1 of Kali crazy ones.. so who his prime target??
-
Stone has a Desmond.
-
so wait is it Stone or Victor who has the Desmond?
So we are getting the assassin run, by 1 of Kali crazy ones.. so who his prime target??
That assassin might get a nasty surprise with a Desmond in the room..
-
That assassin might get a nasty surprise with a Desmond in the room..
Depending on the moment, there could be two Desmonds and idk how many AI avatars present...
-
I like this more then Stone being simply an ****** idiot. It make sense that time and deep freeze would make him go crazy, but another Desmond in liberty make it even more interesting.
-
Helena and Elizabeth do not want to rebuild the Cameron family cause both are too long lived and know now the fallacy of having a long lived ruler.
But Amanda is a Cameron in all but name, she could restart or be a source to restart a normal life span Cameron.
-
had to hit reply before I read more.
Stone is striking me as a Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan type. ... Possibly even a Nathan Fillion as a dignified Malcom Reynolds.
What??? he's a frackin' "skin job"? ? ? ? (well, kind of)
So ... flipping ... cool.
And the saboteur ... I'm rooting for the good guys to take care of everything with extreme prejudice (maybe Major Payne will show up).
-
Pretty sure you meant awesome surprise. ^-^
That assassin might get a nasty surprise with a Desmond in the room..
-
Stone has a Desmond.
Or rather, a Desmond IS Stone... ^-^
-
Sounds like there a wolf among the sheep of the station....
-
More like there's a wolf among the sheep DOGS at the station! ;D
-
he's a wolf trying to swim with orcas.
-
That analogy works too! :thumbsup:
-
Hmmm, pretty interesting twist having Stone be basically a cyborg that hides under a very, very thin veneer of a character he used to be in the past somewhat. And he's so successful at that, that even his closest friends haven't figured that out yet.
I somewhat mislike the fixation on the Cameron House here, but, eh, what can you do. ::)
-
It's how all those AIs were built... 8)
-
Hmmm, pretty interesting twist having Stone be basically a cyborg that hides under a very, very thin veneer of a character he used to be in the past somewhat. And he's so successful at that, that even his closest friends haven't figured that out yet.
I somewhat mislike the fixation on the Cameron House here, but, eh, what can you do. ::)
And Helena actually doesn't much like it either and is already developing a plan in the back of her head to make sure that if people really cannot accept a Star League without a Cameron, well that's exactly what they will get. After a fashion.
-
Speaking in Person
"I will negotiate…
…in good faith," Daoshen explained. "Of course, it will be carefully."
Stone grimaced, "I find your warning ahead of time to be troubling, Chancellor." The party last night was over and today was, between the breaks for tours and presentations, about business. "You're basically saying you'll rules-lawyer your ass off if you can." Admiral Foster was sitting in an observer seat, as moderator.
"You knew that already, Exarch Stone, saying it out loud, means it goes into the public record, and nobody can claim perfidy later. This will all be above board. Also, I expect YOUR government will attempt to find 'loopholes and workarounds'. They would be catastrophically negligent not to."
Devlin Stone chuckled with Liao at the shared joke. "We could have done this somewhere closer."
"Then you wouldn't have come! You couldn't, honestly, or I wouldn't be able to. I, because of my long-standing national hostility with the Haseks or Andurien. YOU, because the only way you'd trust meeting ME is either in irons on Terra, or here, on a guaranteed neutral with no prior history to muddy the issues."
"You know they're borrowing money from the Republic at an astonishing rate. What makes this 'neutral', Chancellor?" Stone asked. "I think your father would've already termed the Alliance a 'client state' and rejected it."
"I am… not my father," Daoshen stated. "Perhaps that means I am less than he was, to be willing to discuss peace so easily, under such conditions. Though my argument might be more on the lines of 'How are you ever going to foreclose?' on the Alliance, if they default? The answer is that the Outworlds are too distant for you to do so, and you would have to get in line behind three Clans and a number of merchant banking institutions in three more states. If you were to seek to do something like that, such an extended war, so far from your home lines, would be catastrophic for your nation. Much as it would be for us. Your advisors, Devlin, agreed to this because you're safe from my advisors here… and mine agreed because I told them to."
"Why?"
"Because, I prefer the RAF to be watching and supporting a distant foreign war, instead of planning your next conquest of the Capellan Confederation, of course. Had my grandmother had the same foresight, she would have been offering Rasalhague as many shipments of arms as could come out of our factories in the thirty-fifties 'at cost'. Because it would have kept the Steiner-Davions and their Hasek lackeys focused on a distant foreign war instead of on finishing the conquest of the Confederation. Let me be perfectly clear for you, and for history… Everyone else owed you for what you did during the Blake War. But we fought them off ourselves and you demanded a slice of my realm anyway… and my father fell defending it. The usual pattern is, you'll want a buffer next. So maybe another 'limited' invasion, to create a buffer state will happen. And of course, then you'll have the ready-made excuse of pre-emption. And before anyone realizes it, you're sitting in the Magistracy and the Confederation is merely a province of your 'Republic'." Daoshen closed his hand. "Which I don't want. The alternative, is we start attacking you. Because History is what History is, and millions end up dead. We might win, we might lose. But the survivors will envy the dead in either case… OR… we establish a sustainable detente and peace, and your aggression is focused where it may actually do some good."
"And yours?"
"I have a nation to rebuild," Liao stated. "Between the 'Capellan Crusades' (nice name by the way, Devlin, very…catchy) and the damage done to us in the last four centuries before the Blakists tried to drive all mankind into the dirt? We have a lot of rebuilding to do, and more than enough outright work to do. Plus, unlike you, I have an open border into unclaimed space. All we need is enough breathing room, and we will eventually surpass you. It may be that, in a few generations, one of your successors will be applying to join the Confederation… as a member-state. A good few steps involve encouraging you into these extended foreign activities far from our borders. They're a good tap for your more aggressive followers, and pose no threat to our interests."
"You wouldn't be interested in 'participating' then?" Stone asked.
"The CCAF could learn a lot from the operations out here. We have Tortuga and someone will have to eventually do something about the Marians," Liao stated. "So, I am not averse to providing support to the Alliance, as neutrals, of course. We are a bit…distant… to try and claim to be full allies of anyone in this area as of yet. But money does transfer and it transfers more easily if it doesn't have to filter through war zones to go where it is being sent."
"So you are playing for influence."
"I'd be an idiot not to," Daoshen shot back. "I have intentions, and plans. And most of them work better if I’m not digging in to resist yet-another-invasion myself. That possibility reduces if my friends are also the friends of the people most likely, in their naked envy and avarice, to attempt something they would not, if their friends were watching."
"And you have other reasons for this conflict in particular, right?" Stone asked. "Because there are closer ones you could have brought up…"
"Inevitably," Daoshen stated. "Just as you have ulterior motives for your government's support of it. If you didn't, you would… be catastrophically negligent. And maybe more than a bit incompetent, and the record doesn't show that. We both have ulterior motives, additional goals, and secret objectives, none of which are broken by negotiating a sustainable armistice and detente between our respective nations."
Then, Daoshen waved. "Look around you, Stone," he said. "Look at what they've done here. What they can do here. And think about what it means when there are artificial sentients, and they are not… brainwashed monsters. Of course I have an interest! How long has it been, since anyone's interstellar navy acted like a Navy instead of alternating between a transport service and a mobile atrocity factory? Hmm?"
The timer clicked over, and Foster struck a Gavel. "Gentlemen, it's time for recess. Followed by a presentation at two."
*
"He didn't sugarcoat…
…that at all, did he?" Helena asked as the two heads of state headed for their respective diplomatic residences on the Station.
"I do not think he needed to," Foster stated. "I imagine Liao knows the reputation of his… 'House' well enough he's going to want to be in front of any accusations of impropriety, and the best move he could make is…?"
“Be sincere. As much as everyone will doubt him, he’s telling the truth.”
"Or be openly insincere but legalistic," Foster said. "There are more than a few Bloodhouse leaders in the Touman who use the same sort of 'brutal honesty' to cover their covert moves."
“Yes. We all bend the truth in some form to suit our agendas. But in this case, he is expertly cutting off most counters. Helps make him look like the good guy, too. So that’s what he’s doing.”
Foster nodded along. "It's in his interest, as he said… repeatedly. Makes me think his real endgame is something complicated. But then, that is how it ends up being within the Touman when the Bloodnamed play politics."
“Agreed. I never got the same education in interstellar politics Elizabeth did, but in navigating my way through so many wars, I’ve still picked up a few things. Stone can refuse. He has enough political pull to do so. But what it would cost him while supporting us at the same time may be too high of a price in the long term.”
"Hence, why he's here: if the talks collapse, it's not his fault; and if they succeed, it brings in additional capital," Foster agreed.
“All we need to do now is find out what Daoshen really wants. I have some guesses but most of them are paranoid fantasies.”
"So, let us be paranoid fantasists. I assigned Roberts to give the tour this afternoon. She is about as subtle as a mining sledge, so I asked her to find out."
“Option one and the most basic: he’s after some Cameron genes to make a real claim at being the real First Lord. Or more specifically, his children will be.”
"Something to watch for… but here is option two: Daoshen's been asking about the AIs, a lot. And he stayed awake and alert, according to Jonah and Cossack, for the entire trip here from the jump point. He is looking for tech exchange."
“Yeah. That’s occurred to me, too. He may be looking to be the true Mandate of Heaven and Celestial Wisdom. Thankfully, I think we’ve kept the details of that under wraps enough for that to be real paranoid thinking.”
"Option three: we are jumping at shadows. He actually means it, and it does not invalidate options one and two," Foster noted.
“Possibly. The scariest part, is that’s the one I believe the most.”
"So does Howe," Foster said. "Which means we really need to be watching, because… Hear me out here: 'It might be the best deal for US'."
“This is why I have grown to dislike hereditary rule…” Helena shook her head.
Foster shrugged. "Helena, even the Clans were unable to completely remove it. The whole Bloodname thing is really just a more flexible form."
“I know. Names have power and meaning. I guess I just have this hope that the experiments with Democracy of Terra’s past were not exceptions to the rule.”
"Heh, the 'rule' was that they failed. Admiral McKenna had to put them down, and they failed even out this far: Avellar didn't have to run for his office, he was born to hold it."
“Yeah. Just the thought of you can go from Jocasta to Simon to Richard to coup is hard for me to get around how much of a lottery the whole system is.”
"Lotteries are governed by odds, Helena. What you're talking about is more of a rigged game. Like the dealer dealing from a marked deck to blind players."
“I suppose that’s the better way to put it. But I still don’t like how much people look to me for things they should be able to do on their own just because my name is ‘Cameron’. But I still lead because someone has to, and I can at least try and make the next cog in the wheel of time better than this one.”
"I believe your sister tried it a different way recently, and she still wound up with people looking to her for things they should be doing themselves," Foster pointed out. "Only in her case it was 'Drillson' and somehow, she still had to arrange to be thrown out of office."
"You don't really believe Elizabeth set that up!"
"I do," Foster asserted. "She rigged it so they'd toss her out when it looked like nobody else would run for her seat in the next election."
“Almost sounds like something I’d do to duck becoming the real First Lord again. I know my reluctance to seek power is why so many think I am so good with it. But some days I’m sure I’m really more lucky than good.”
"To seek power, Helena, requires a certain level of certainty that you are right, and everyone else is wrong." Foster glanced at the chronometer. "Those who only do so reluctantly tend to be more aware that that is a fallacy. I believe Amanda would suggest that such a person is ideal for actually governing, as opposed to merely seeking to rule."
“Which creates an interesting philosophical quandary. Knowing that I know that, does my reluctance to power become a facade?”
"History might say, your opponents might say, you might even say, but as an absolute?" he shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. But excessive humility in a leader in wartime is not a virtue. Just as any other excess, it becomes a vice in its own right."
“Thankfully, I’ve had good teachers in that department. I’m just glad we’re starting to close in on the end, slowly but surely. I know there will be other wars, other problems. But this one is going to be with me a long time.”
**
The Decisions we…
…make as teens often come to haunt us later on. Amanda got the chance to rue this today, as she tugged at the costume that had become, for all useful purposes, the mess-dress uniform of the Privateers.
"At least you didn't experiment with wigs too," Lori commented, as they checked each other's 'surface dress' uniforms for violations of the regulations.
"What the hell was I thinking?" Amanda wondered
'You thought it looked cool, and the leadership obliged because… reasons?"
Amanda regarded her image in the mirror. "It does look cool, doesn't it?"
"That's right, stoke your vanity in the impractically long coat, Amanda. But be glad you didn't go for the wigs in some of those history romances you love."
"Well… here we go, it's almost time."
"Notes?"
Amanda held up a portable, and then put it into the large cargo pocket of her jacket, just below the belt.
The walk down to the lift for fifteen took a few minutes. The ride down the lift gave a steady increase in felt gravity as it moved away from the center core of the station to the mid-levels, where the wheel was large enough to have a full gee of spin gravity. The outer levels were the docks, but her presentation would be in the Guest Facility's main hall, followed by a tour to the docking and maintenance levels.
Areas where normally, one wears a suit all the time. And her 'underwear' was a skinsuit, one with an emergency hood because of the hat that would otherwise be in the way.
"Safety brief, short summary of the Service," Amanda muttered. 'A few jokes to lighten the mood… discussions of what we found…"
It was going to be a LONG day.
But not as long as the day was going to be for the guys in the Bannerhoft Occupation forces, or the guys on the front-lines, or the men and women manning system defense militias waiting for the next attack.
<Do you want me to handle it, Amanda?>
"No, Desmond, I have to do this one myself," she answered. "Just help me keep my presentation straight, okay?"
<Will do.>
***
"I trust everyone…
…who is here, has at least an emergency skinsuit tucked under their clothing?" Amanda asked. "Because if you don't, we'll wait. The Docks are mostly pressurized, but accidents happen. A space station is not like a planetary port. If you feel the wind, it's a good idea to zip up." She demonstrated by deploying her emergency head-cover, a flexible cloth and plastic mask connected to a small recycler, which she then rolled back after demonstrating the checks. "A skin bag, like the one I'm wearing, will last up to half an hour on the inboard systems. Long enough, hopefully, to get to a shelter, or into a beach-ball." She re-seated her hat. "We try not to have accidents, but in space, accidents are inevitable."
Regina was helping one of Stone’s men with his suit while Victoria was standing by waiting patiently as Daoshen’s men seemed either uninterested in her help or not in need of it.
Amanda was pretty sure it was the former but she couldn’t say anything more without creating an incident, as she actually could not be sure.
But something about Victoria did seem a bit off as she studied her.
<Something wrong Victoria?> Amanda reached out.
<An aberration in my remote. It is minor enough I can continue without interrupting the tour.>
<That remote lets you interact with people who don't have implants, Victoria. If it's acting up, you might want to get that looked at before it fails somewhere or sometime it's critical.>
<Next opportunity I will speak to Esme about it.>
<We'll be down in her turf,> Amanda agreed. <Alice, let Esme know Victoria's remote is acting up. We'll have to have her stop in during the tour.>
<WOW, Captain Roberts! Your interface is so clear today!!> Alice replied.
<Desmond's focusing on running it instead of me,> Amanda replied. <I have to do this without leaning on him, so it CAN be clearer. Has Esme responded yet?>
<Erin's letting her know now.>
"Okay, is everyone ready?" Amanda was trying to be genial.
Regina gave a thumbs up to indicate the last of Stone’s party was suited up properly.
"We're going to begin with the lifts you have all already taken, so I won't go into that topic. Instead, we'll talk about my ship, OWS Evanescent. Most of the Privateer Service's vessels are leased to the Service by the Outworlds Alliance Parliament, with half the lease funding provided by Clan Snow Raven as a reserve force. I own mine, and she's one of our first stops, since my ship is the first ship in the Service, though not the flagship…"
“Oh? That seems rather unusual,” Stone commented.
"When Evanescent became my ship, the Outworlds Alliance didn't have a Privateer service. We didn't have the Letter of Marque and Reprisal, we didn't have official sanction," she explained. "What I had was a damaged memory that led me to a Naval Coordination center that was set up before the Risings of the 28th century by the officially denounced Outworlds Resistance. And that coordination center had an archive, which led me to where Evanescent had been laid up against the possible resumption of hostilities with the Star League."
"Resumption of hostilities?" Daoshen asked. "You mean, your ancestors were planning to fight the Star League?"
"The first time through, Chancellor, we were occupied by Amos Forlough," Amanda spat the name. "And we had generations of remembering what he did to us. The Resistance had the intention to fight to the last man. Because allowing it to happen again, and to have the war criminal given a medal and a… a title for it? Was too much to stomach a second time." Her tone dripped with ancient rage as she spoke, carefully suppressed, but palpably there. "They didn't get the chance, of course. They didn't know about Amaris and his relationship with SLIC in arranging the war they'd feared was coming. If they had, they might've picked their allies a little better… But they didn't, and so, I got a ship!" she ended brightly.
"So you salvaged a two hundred forty thousand ton WarShip?"
"By myself, yeah. They stocked her with everything before they laid her in the base I found her in. And it got missed by Kerensky's forces, though they didn't miss the intended crew and officers on the planet… So she's mine. I have legal title and everything."
"How much degradation did it have?" one of Daoshen's aides, a registered assistant in technical matters named Si Fu Lan, asked. He was, in Amanda's eyes, fairly handsome in that quirky way she liked. <Maybe see if he's busy later, Desmond?>
"Mostly pretty good shape, the… ah… food stocks weren't, and most of the medicines aboard were centuries past their 'dispose by' dates," she admitted. "Which led to how I first got noticed."
"How was that?""
"I boarded a Clan supply vessel and stole the MRC's out of their emergency galley," she said. "My big 'heist' as a 'pirate' was stealing food everyone tells me is among the most awful tasting in existence!"
The lift started down toward the ring.
"That got you a Letter of Marque?" someone scoffed from the Republic's group.
"No, destroying a Battalion of the Sons of Plunder in the Hala system got that ball rolling," Amanda stated. "I got my first crew that way-they were about to take an old Invader class JumpShip, a trading ship. I took them out, but couldn't save the Merchie hull. I was able to save the crew, and I offered to make them my 'pirate crew'," she grinned impishly.
Regina gave a reassuring smile and a small wink.
"The Captain of that merchant vessel became my first executive officer, and the man who taught me…" Amanda hesitated, then plunged forward: "He taught me how to actually be a Captain, and what the reality of Pirates were, versus the stories and novels I grew up reading. He's going to be missed for a long time… but Hala didn't get us the Letter either. We took his cargo to Northsun, and sold them a shipment of weapons they wouldn't have been able to buy if we hadn't come looking to round out our numbers… And that didn't get us the Letter of Marque. Though it did get me on the Clan Watch's radar, and they had agents in the recruited crew."
"So got it for you?"
"Devil's Breath," she said. "The first real Liberation. The Star League kept a facility there, and the Sons were using it. About five hundred civilian victims inside. A short company guarding them in a facility designed to hold political prisoners for the Camerons centuries ago, outfitted with their best security. It was that action that got the President's attention. And our plans for freeing Joan's Post got President Avellar to make the offer. I was the first Outworlds Privateer. And my crew from then are among the best leaders of the Service since it expanded."
“And what of the AIs? What role do they play?”
"Pick a role," Amanda answered. "When I freed Erinyes, she was being held in a state of near-catatonia in the hands of war criminals from the Word of Blake… the same men whose crime set me on my path," Amanda said. "She helped me kill the man who made her a slave and instrument of mass murder. I spoke with her. We interacted. I chose to free her, and maybe that's why some of my closest friends are Artificial Intelligences."
“And to be fair, our combat experiences and capabilities, while formidable, were built during the Golden Age of the Star League, when ships could be replaced as fast as they were destroyed. We learned much from the Service about how to fight a War where such reinforcements were unavailable,” Regina added.
"That was mostly Admiral Foster and Larry Nichols. They worked it out," Amanda added. "I… I know I have a reputation, but the early part was being unaware that it wouldn't work. Later, it was because of their teachings."
"Who is this 'Larry Nichols'?” one of the guests asked. "Will we get to meet him?"
"He died," Amanda said, poorly hiding real grief. "He died… and we're the poorer for it."
Regina noticeably shifted at the comments, giving away her own discomfort about the topic.
Mercifully, the lift stopped at their destination breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen on the group.
"So our first stop, is the first ship in the Privateer service!" Amanda's cheerfulness was so obviously faked that Regina noticed both leaders flinched a bit, but kept their peace.
To Be Continued
-
Purely Mechanical
The Girl was a raw…
…nerve walking. Daoshen could see it now, clearly, where her seeming awkward rudeness originated.
"Victoria…" he leaned in to his Liaison. "...I would like to meet with someone who can discuss artificial intelligence questions: the more moral, ethical and political aspects."
“I will forward your request to Admiral Foster, but I imagine he will approve.”
The girl was explaining, with crewmen demonstrating, aspects of ship maintenance to military attachés from both groups.
"Does she actually know this stuff?" one of Daoshen's junior aides, a man named Si Fu Lan, asked.
“Of course. A crew this small, combined with her views that a Captain should know as much as possible about their own vessel, means even the jobs she’s not suited for she at least knows something about,” Victoria answered. “One could say the bonds such an environment creates rival that of family.”
Daoshen could see it in how the crewmen responded to their Captain in what was probably something of a 'dog and pony' or 'shit detail', depending on which barracks the Maskirovka was bugging. They reacted to her orders almost before she spoke.
It was a coordination that the Confederation tried to instill. Daoshen approved of it.
"Is this one of the ships with an Artificial Intelligence?" Victor Steiner-Davion's voice carried.
“No. Evanescent currently has no AI support system installed,” Regina answered.
"Why not?" Victor asked.
"Because she's MY ship, and I'm not a slaver," Amanda said. "I won't have someone who can't leave the crew in port if they're so inclined. A ship can only have one Captain. The others, with AI support, have specific chains of command and those AIs are leasing the hulls, or were born into them."
“And there is no technical solution to allow a more responsive removal of an AI?” Daoshen asked.
"When they refit the Tenebrous, they had to section through the bow, basically cutting off the end and rearranging structure to make space," Amanda explained. "It took months to do the installation."
“I had no idea the cores were that extensive. I would have thought the wonders of the Star League combined with how automated Warships already are would make for a simpler process,” Si Fu Lan added.
"Shielding and power requirements. An AI core has a separate, independent power supply. The powerpack is a fusion engine that needs shielding. The AI's themselves need protection from Environmental factors that don't hit people the same way. PLUS redundant feeds so the AI has full sensory and internal comms access independent of CIC or the Aux Control stations," Amanda recited. "It's not as simple as plugging a TarCom into a battlemech, or so I’ve been told by our experts. What I know is that it costs a lot of money and I'd have to mortgage the ship to pay for the work."
“I must admit my curiosity is piqued about this topic. I hope an opportunity can be arranged soon where I can talk with your experts in more detail.” Daoshen nodded.
"Illusive is in layup on the far side of the ring, and we'll be passing Erinyes on our way there, Mister Chancellor sir," she answered. "They're not closed up yet, and Luther would probably enjoy the conversation, now that he's got a proper remote."
“Now that is most interesting. Is there a shortage of remotes? And an AI that is male when all the others are female? I would most like to meet this Luther,” Daoshen carefully hid the true extent of his surprise.
"Most are female. Luther's not a girl," Amanda quipped. "So we had to have one custom-built to get the body and movement right, as well as presenting correctly. Esme said it involved a heck of a lot more than cutting off the tits and spot-gluing a beard."
“And this Esme. I would like to speak to her myself,” Si Fu Lan added.
"We'll see if she can give a short talk when we're in line with where Erin's docked," Amanda suggested.
<I’ve already multi-tasked and sent a request for meetings with Admiral Foster and added it would be a good opportunity for my remote to get serviced without breaching etiquette.>
"One question, Captain Roberts… So, most of the Artificials are female?" Victor asked.
"Good question!" Amanda said, "Regina?"
“Yes. Almost all of us present as female for two reasons. One is because most of us are based off of scans of a terminal female Admiral of the SLDF. The other factor is most of us were selected as part of an upgrade program to expand the scope of the SDS on the theory that if an enemy was strong enough to defeat the Star League Navy, a short term relief mission aspect could be added to our mission profiles. Studies show that humans in such situations respond more favorably to female forms.”
"But this 'Luther' is male? How did that happen?"
“Yes. He is based on a different scan source.”
"So you have the means to create new AI, then?" Daoshen asked.
<Drat Foster not being up for being part of the project. I know we want to keep this information controlled, but how do I answer?> Regina put on the FleetNet.
Victoria spoke up, "We had a limited ability, but that capacity is exhausted presently. The ability to manufacture new cores is, so I'm told, a lost technology. A lot of knowledge will have to be recovered before any experimentation to create new ship-core AI is possible."
"There's also the political aspect. The Word of Blake lacked that ability as well, and they had the best access to the source materials," Devlin stone said easily. "We looked… they couldn't do it, which is good for everyone, because they were TRYING."
“Yes, their implementation of the technology showed rather limited intelligence from what records from the war survive in the Confederation. Still, it is a shame that no cores remain available for examination. At least ones more accessible than their current dispositions,” Daoshen nodded.
"So you're working on a project, Chancellor?"
"I would not say anything so ambitious," Daoshen deflected. "I can see the obvious benefits, but as Captain Roberts has suggested in her comments, there are certainly ethical pitfalls that would need to be avoided."
This got Victor's attention, at least. "Ethical pitfalls?" he frowned.
"I imagine political ones predominantly. The individuals scanned would have to be exceptional, and that raises certain possible… objections. Particularly since exceptional ability tends to come with exceptional ambition. And few ambitious people would willingly submit to being removed from positions they've won through their work, even when it is in the best interest of the collective of the People."
“And there are certain concerns about the process and what it does to the source. But that is all we can say until we get more clearance from Admiral Foster and the Loremaster,” Regina added.
Amanda cleared her throat, "Actually, that 'more clearance' has to go through President Avellar too," she said. "Three way security keys," was a lie. "To prevent someone from releasing information termed 'critical to the war effort'."
"This war, you started it?" Si Fu Lan asked.
"No, the Sons started it. I just started the process of fighting back. They were invading and occupying the Outworlds for centuries. And stealing our people for use and sale for almost as long. And we didn't even KNOW we were at war until I started the process of shooting back."
“And that is what brought the other AIs and Helena Cameron out of hiding,” Daoshen observed.
"So, you kicked the proverbial football on this… whole thing?" Victor inquired.
"Yes sir. Every death, every casualty on our side? On my head," she said grimly. "Because someone had to do it. There were better qualified people than me, with better training, more knowledge, better temperaments, better equipment. But I was there and they weren't. It's how the Privateers really began… It's all my fault, but maybe the enemy's got some of that blame for waging centuries of war on us before we finally hit back."
“I would damn well say that the blame is on them not you.” Victor found himself suddenly more agitated.
She grinned. "Tell the Peace Party in Parliament, they keep trying to cut our budgets out from under us. And my tax bill from last year? WHOO!!!"
Her sudden levity was… awkward.
"Tax bill? You have to pay taxes??"
"I pay taxes," Amanda said. "Fifty percent of the take on prize sales at auction, plus income taxes because a portion of my budget comes from foreign sources thanks to the war loans. Then there's the transaction taxes for payroll, and benefits. OH! And my contribution to the retirement funds for my crew… death benefits…."
"How much?" someone asked.
"I cracked two billion in C-bills after the last deep recon," Amanda said. "In taxes paid, but Speaker Di Lon thinks I'm not paying enough at fifty percent of gross. I used C-bills because that's a unit you're familiar with. In Escudos, it's a number easier to express using scientific notation."
“Bet you’re glad you became Precentor Martial Comstar instead of First Prince even more so now eh, Victor?” Devlin Stone chuckled.
"Okay, that I know… You're talking the taxes on your ship and crew…" Delia Fischer was with Stone's people, the Dropship commander. "How much do YOU take in?"
"Uhm… sixty-five thousand Escudos last year? About?"
Fischer was a merchant shipper before she was a Republic skipper. She did the mental math. "Wait, you're holding an O-6 position, and your take-home is Under fifteen thousand C-bills a year?"
"About that, yeah," Amanda nodded. "At the last conversion rate, thanks to our currency being propped up…"
"I have Junior Lieutenants making more than that!!"
"They don't own a starship," Amanda shrugged. "Duh. When you're the owner, you pay your people or you don't keep them."
-
Heh... OWNING a ship that can jump is its own kind of "pay"... ^-^
-
Duh! ...
lol.
Not for nothin', but I hope the saboteur does not get the job done ... just one of those events would be heart wrenching.
Like if Ivanova were taken out in season 4 via station sabotage
-
How long has it been, since anyone's interstellar navy acted like a Navy instead of alternating between a transport service and a mobile atrocity factory?
:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
-
Wheels
"I knew they were broke…
…but Jesus," Victor muttered to himself as Captain Roberts led them to a tramway for the pass over to the dock holding Erinyes. "Regina?"
"Yes sir?"
"She was kidding, right? That number is below poverty level in most of the civilized galaxy. Even a Merc would get paid more as a grunt…"
"No, that's what Captain Roberts takes home-her gross is in the billions but she pays out a lot. The Captains with 'company ships' like Illusive, Tenebrous, Capricious? They keep more of what they earn, because a lot of what Captain Roberts brings in ends up having to pay for things that can be requisitioned through government supply contracts… Though she pays her crew better than is absolutely required. She's actually acting the intended way the Privateers were supposed to operate, aside from the taxes."
"It doesn't seem right," Victor shook his head.
"A lot of it isn't," Regina agreed.
The ring-tram stopped at a dock, and visibly, the 'bag' had been secured only to the end of the massive thing docked to the station.
A Newgrange hull is enormous. Practically a station in its own right. Distance can be a little disorienting.
"She's huge," Victor said out loud.
"Big enough to swallow a Bonaventure whole," Regina agreed. "Big enough to swallow my original ship-chassis and leave room for more. I present, gentlemen, the Erinyes."
A curvy, raven-haired lady in a very practical spacer's skin-suit was striding from that enormous wall of haze-gray hull.
The visitors were getting a taste of scale.
*
"Victoria Cameron…
…someone told on you." Esmerelda Gomez crossed her arms, which accentuated her bosom to a degree that would distract most men.
"It can wait," Victoria suggested.
Esme took in the visitors, then, "Erin can cover your duty for this. As your medic, I Insist."
The remote for Erinyes had gotten some custom work done. She looked older than most of the others, mostly in her posture, as she walked up, flanked by yard crew in hazard orange and yellow. There were a few obvious artificial signs, unlike most of the others, including a slight chrome shading to her 'hair' and skin tone. More of a metallic sheen than a human tone, like a polished statue wrapped in a jumpsuit, with a tool-belt. Erinyes had, apparently, chosen to accentuate her true nature in her remote… at least, today.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the remote for OWS Erinyes. She can assist you while I address a slight malfunction in Victoria Cameron's remote chassis."
""Introductions," Victoria stood firm, and shot a look to Captain Roberts.
The young woman flushed a little, then, "This is Senior Director Esmeralda Gomez, Chief Technical Officer here and Commander of Record for OWS Erinyes. Which is to say, she doesn't give Erin orders so much as wrangle the technical crews for the Yard here on the station, and the human contingent aboard Erinyes."
"My position is a staff position. Humans need doctors and medics, I'm the equivalent for our Warships and AI's. So I'm pulling my medical role here, and taking Victoria in for a checkup." Esmerelda's Spanish accent was a little more prominent. "You might say I'm the 'Chief Medical Officer' for our AI personnel." She eyed Victoria, "Now, If I have to call Helena…"
Victoria raised her hands, "Erin, you've got this?"
Erin spoke for herself, first in Mandarin: “My apologies, Celestial Wisdom, for any inconvenience. Miss Gomez is quite dutiful and sometimes less politic than she might be, were she from a Military background rather than a technical one. I will be pleased to answer your questions to the extent I am permitted by security or human decency."
"That is quite acceptable, Erin?" Daoshen answered in English. "Your Mandarin is quite polished, Beijing accent?"
"Lingua files from the East Asian bloc were included in my original configuration, thank you for the compliment." She smiled, as Esme led Victoria to a magnetic-wheeled deck-mover with a portable 'box'-basically a service truck built for operations in a Fleet-grade station's shipyard.
"You were the ship's computer during the Blakist wars," Daoshen observed.
"I try not to dwell on that time," she answered the unspoken question. "My origin was as a heavy, deep range colony vessel. We haven't yet been able to replace everything the Blakists stole from me when they turned my body into a tool of atrocity and death."
"So you have become… what? What role do you play, docked here?" Si Fu Lan asked.
"Mister Si, I am currently playing a supplementary maintenance and logistical role for the base, as well as standby rescue and recovery for units disabled, but not destroyed, in the fighting. In simplest terms, I'm the 'tow truck'. Thus far, we've been fortunate and my recovery missions have been short and mostly practice. Given the amount of fuel and other consumables involved, I spend the bulk of my time here, docked and providing support to the station and the Station's Intelligence."
"So, is that what you will do when the war is over?" Daoshen asked. "Play 'tow truck'?"
"I'm getting help restoring my original purpose, Celestial Wisdom. I intend to go out and found new colonies for humanity when I have finished the work I am doing now. By then, everything stolen from me will have been replaced."
"An ambitious goal, indeed," the Chancellor said with just the right hint of admiration. "What sort will it be?"
"That's the fun, seeing what grows," Erin told him. "I have more examples now, than when I was first laid down at the yard, both of what to do, and what not to do when I do my true work."
“I feel so embarrassed Esme, this really is the equivalent of going to sick call for a sprained ankle.” Victoria said quietly.
This Esme is one to keep note of for later. She knows much about these AIs. The way they carefully choose their words too indicates she could be quite valuable to me in completing my goal. Si Fu Lan carefully studied Esme without making it obvious he was studying Esme.
***
"OWS Illusive was…
…the second ship in the Privateer service, and the first one owned by a State Agency. In particular, she was half-owned by the Outworlds Military Command and half-owned by Clan Snow Raven's Watch, the Security arm of the Touman," Amanda explained as they got off the tram. "Illusive has battle stars from Johnson, Michtal, first and second battles of Grankum, and several reconnaissance flights in between. Her first commanding officer later became the Chief of the Service. Admiral Foster commanded her until only recently, but she's now the Flagship of the Service, and is currently going through her third refit."
“Third refit? That seems rather unusual even for the pace of operations you have been sustaining,” Victor commented.
"We get into fights with bigger enemies." Amanda didn't smirk. "Sometimes 'repair' is more like 'rebuild'. The Illusive was first recovered at Joan's Post in a non-functional condition. The Snow Ravens designed her first refit, replacing much of the original weaponry with more modern, more flexible systems and added a carrier function. We've kept that carrier function, but Illusive is gaining an Artificial Intelligence to… maybe reduce the number of times we have to bring her in for repair."
“Oh and which of the AIs are going in this vessel? The brief seems to have all the lovely ladies accounted for,” Stone chuckled.
"Luther," she said. "Who is not a lovely lady."
“Ah, yes. There was mention of us meeting the rare male AI. This should be quite fascinating to talk with one who broke from the mold that significantly,” Stone nodded thoughtfully.
She seemed distracted for a moment, then, "Here he comes."
At a distance, he looked like any mid-twenties to late thirties male officer from a professional background. It was only when he got close that subtle tells that the man coming up the dock wasn't… human became apparent.
"Captain Roberts," he nodded to her.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Luther. He's the Artificial Intelligence being installed in OWS Illusive..."
"We're still a couple of days out. Esme's team says the ship's almost ready. Now, for those of you familiar with the layout of a Bonaventure, my hull's got a few differences that should be immediately apparent…"
“Captain Luther Bedwyr is it? I’m curious as to what you can tell me about your source. The other AIs and Captain Roberts have hinted it’s not the same as the other AIs. Did you also come from the same program as an alternate template?” Daoshen asked, uninterested in the ship.
"I can't tell you much about the process, Mister Chancellor. But I can assure you, I did NOT derive from a Terran," Luther stated. "I'm an Outworlder. My source was an Outworlder. I don't have a 'Director General’, or an Exarch (no offense mister Stone). I have a President, and his name is Avellar. Going much past that, I'll have to get clearances. There are details too classified about how my AI was made for me to know about, much less talk about… except my source died fighting for freedom."
“You must have an extremely fascinating service history then.”
"I can say that I've been in this since almost the beginning, if you count the man I was imprinted from," Luther agreed. "I remember flying the landing on Devil's Breath, and the boarding of the Erinyes."
"Too… much… sharing!" Amanda muttered out loud.
“Oh my. That is quite interesting,” Si Fu Lan commented quietly.
“Ah, so you are a new AI. Seems the technology is not quite as lost as we were lead to believe. I can forgive that, given it’s sensitive nature. We all have national secrets,” Daoshen said warmly.
"Old core, new imprint. There were a cache of them, but to my knowledge, we don't have an extra blank anymore," Luther stated. "It's how we know we can't build more cores. Esme tried to reverse engineer one, and we just don't have the industrial knowledge to do it."
“And none of the AIs have the capacity either.” From the corner of his eye, Daoshen could see Amanda biting her lip in frustration.
<I thought I was going to be the one to ****** it up, Luther!!>
<I got permission, it was going to come out anyway. Calm down, Amanda.>
<As long as we don’t say we actually have two cores left, we’re okay I think,> Regina added.
"So… your original died," Daoshen looked thoughtful. "How long was he dead before you were scanned?"
"I wasn't. I was almost dead. The process was more like a mercy shot," Luther said easily. "See, a deep scan, and they knew this in the Old Days when they scanned Dharaval, kills the patient. I was so almost-dead that even surviving would be worse than a death sentence. So we took the risk and confirmed a few things, things like the scan is ludicrously dangerous for living people."
“Yes, I understand. There are times when death is indeed a mercy,” Daoshen nodded.
"How does it feel?" Victor asked.
"Like being numb all the time. Right now, anyway. I'll have full sensory again once the install is complete, but in my current state, it's like interacting with everyone from the bottom of a well. Everything's muted. Colors aren't quite right, everyone sounds… dim-not mentally dim, but like I'm trying to hear through ears full of water."
“Esme has done some wonderful work improving what our remotes can sense on their own without a ship system to supplement, but they do have their limits,” Regina added.
"So… You mentioned yourself in both first and third person…"
"I don't know if I'm really 'me' or just a copy. Is Luther Bedwyr sitting in the afterlife, or did it transfer over too? I don't know," Luther shrugged. "Some days I'm hoping my soul moved on. Others, I'm hoping it's still here. It varies, so I haven't really decided if my memories are MINE, or the memories and identity of a guy named Luther Bedwyr who took his ship too close to a nuclear strike and was too proud to admit he was getting sicker."
<Ask your partner in crime next chance you get. She’ll give you all the answer you need,> Regina gave a reassuring smile.
<Part of my permission is to suggest there are reasons for them NOT to try and copy the tech, Reggie. Trotting out philosophical arguments is part of that. I KNOW who I am.>
<Odd… that wasn’t included in my brief. Oh well. At least I said it in private and not in front of our guests.>
“Ship of Theseus after a fashion then. Quite an interesting philosophical quandary,” Daoshen rubbed his chin.
"Where I… My original grew up, it was called 'Granddaddy's axe'," Luther said with a chuckle. "All original, the head's only been replaced twice, the handle three times. Is it new, like new, or a genuine antique at that point?"
"So long as it still splits wood, does it matter?" Amanda asked. Then quickly answered herself with, "Only to a collector."
“Yes. I would agree. In this case you are the embodiment of the memories, and that is the important part, no matter how many times the physical has been replaced,” Daoshen nodded.
"How… pardon, but how large is this 'core' then? That it takes so long?"
"See those container-truck modules?" Luther gestured at an array of shipping containers. "I'm one of them, the rest contain additional memory modules, the tech is not small or compact."
“The human mind is really a quite complex computer that people often underestimate. That it requires so much computing power to make a sapient consciousness should be no surprise.” Regina picked up on what Luther was doing.
<Luther!>
<Operations Security. Their spies will watch the container trucks, not the small module we're already mounting that's only the size of a compact car,> Luther reminded her.
<Yes. Our cores are quite sizable by computer standards, but most of the bulk comes from support systems. So making them think it requires a great deal of computing hardware would be wise.>
<Well, ******. Somebody dropped the ball on briefing materials for this one. Can’t have been Foster. Helena?> Amanda was trying her best to keep the scowl off her face.
<Possible. She has had a lot on her plate lately, and only Simon to rely on. I’m starting to worry that Simon may be breaking down faster this time. With how much he has to always be on to help Helena with the side effects of her injury, and all the added pressures from this summit,> Regina answered.
<Shit. She makes it easy to forget she’s missing a good chunk of her brain too.> Amanda felt sheepish.
<How the hell she survived the blast of a laser pistol powerful enough to decapitate a man is nothing short of a miracle.> Luther couldn’t help but physically shake his head.
“Something the matter Captain Bedwyr?” Victor caught the motion first.
“One of the downsides of being an AI is I’m now expected to multitask on a lot more things at once. Just some mundane but annoying stuff that is of no consequence to guests such as yourselves. Unless you’re really interested in fuel consumption logs and audits,” Luther covered himself.
<Nice save,> Regina smiled.
<Not really, I really am having to do those right now too. Just convenient timing.>
Not everyone was fooled by their rather basic deceptions. Si Fu Lan knew better, but kept his peace.
“Shall we continue our tour gentlemen?” Regina broke the latest uncomfortable silence first.
****
Si Fu Lan…
…was glad to have gotten the opportunity to break away from the delegation again. It gave him an opportunity to start stalking his prey.
The rumors of Esme’s preferred activities were easy enough to pry out of the various station crew and workers.
So he’d followed her to a bar. Her proclivities towards alcoholic beverages would make it easy enough to subdue and isolate her when the time was right.
But now he needed one more target and fate had provided.
She was perfect. Tall, powerful, and had just enough asian features to not be questioned.
And how Esme greeted and reacted to her, he did not need his extensive training in reading body language to know there was a connection there. It would have been better if there was a more intimate relation between the two but by his estimation, they were close enough for her to serve as leverage as well as be a perfect host for the true Celestial Wisdom. Which was doubly fortuitous as it reduced the number of people he would have to control when the time was right. He may have been given celestial gifts but every extra person he needed to bring into his schemes increased the risk of them not working out the way he hoped.
There was now just one more thing he needed to do before he could collect them. He needed to learn where the machines they were protecting were. For that he would have to turn to technology. During the next meeting between Stone and Daoshen would be his best opportunity.
To Be Continued
-
It seems a bit odd to call 16,000 C-bills below poverty level. IIRC, that would translate to about $80,000, which I think is a pretty comfortable wage. Not excessive, and less than a US Army colonel makes as far as I can tell (varies with specific circumstances but $92,000 is about base and it can be up to around another 60%)
-
It seems a bit odd to call 16,000 C-bills below poverty level. IIRC, that would translate to about $80,000, which I think is a pretty comfortable wage. Not excessive, and less than a US Army colonel makes as far as I can tell (varies with specific circumstances but $92,000 is about base and it can be up to around another 60%)
But need to add on a thousand years of inflation & 16k will maybe be enough for a coffee at Star League Bucks 😁
OK the C-Bill is probably worth a lot more than inflation adjusted dollars
-
I've seen comparisons that based upon what you use for a price comparison the C-Bill can actually be less than a current $1USD to as high as $8USD.
-
How much is a Big Mac in 3119? ???
-
Not sure. AToW says 120 C-Bills can feed one person for a month but that's probably grocery/cooking for oneself.
-
Not sure. AToW says 120 C-Bills can feed one person for a month but that's probably grocery/cooking for oneself.
USDA publishes four different food budget averages per month, which work out to $250 to $415 per adult person, depending on age and sex. That would set a C-Bill equivalent at anywhere from $2 to almost $4.
-
honestly, 16K cbills being below poverty level would certainly help explain the weirdness of Fasanomics.
and i think what Victor needs to realize about Amanda is that she's basically operating as a mercenary command attached to the Privateers, not the auxiliary-military set up that the majority of the rest of the privateers have been operating under. a merc unit with a large staff and a lot of expensive hardware to maintain.
-
I used 11 C-bills to the dollar when I was doing all my math for my story, which some day I hope to have time to get cracking on again.
-
When I did my Rations (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/fan-designs-rules/rations/) thread, I assumed the "Emergency Rations" on page 312 of AToW were daily, not per meal. Even if they were per meal, that would only be 6 C-Bills per day (~180/month). Later in that thread, I provide a link to Natick knocking on the lower limits of TL C rations. I think it really can be done in that small (and cheap) of a package.
-
The 120 C-Bills is for Cheap, with a progression of 240 and 480 for Quality and Luxury. So that's probably about right for Emergency rations.
-
120 is probably about right for cheap, non-preserved food on a local market. :thumbsup:
-
Oi, you guys are making me think of Traveller again!
-
Well all this C-Bill stuff should go in it's own thread. While Cannonshop's been(somewhat failing) to sleep today I did get a little writing done to help him out.
I don't know why I'm so amused by people not being able to pick the sections I write out from his but I am.
-
It seems a bit odd to call 16,000 C-bills below poverty level. IIRC, that would translate to about $80,000, which I think is a pretty comfortable wage. Not excessive, and less than a US Army colonel makes as far as I can tell (varies with specific circumstances but $92,000 is about base and it can be up to around another 60%)
I tried to keep it unspecific given currency volatility. In FY 3118, the Escudo was trading to the C-bill at around ten to one.
That is, ten Escudoes for every C-bill. (3118 was a good year) this is only an average, which means their discussion comparing her wages, is only hitting on averages.
FY 3119 has seen inflation continue and the Outworlds is literally living on debt with regards to their currency due to damage from the fighting and 'enhanced' military spending to replace destroyed equipment and repair damaged units on all those fronts we're NOT showing you.
In actual, direct terms, as of the day that they were doing the tour and Amanda gave her little civics lesson, the Escudo was trading at fifteen point seven five to one against the C-bill, meaning one C-bill equals fifteen point seven five Escudoes, and that's up from earlier in the year when the rate was closer to twenty to one.
The lowest point was right after the Sons of Plunder launched their massive, multiplanetary assault on the Outworlds' rear areas. at the end of 2nd Quarter 3118, the Escudo was (thanks to infrastructure damage and lives lost) trading at somewhere close to 50 Escudoes for each C-bill...so they've recovered a Lot.
The average for the current timeframe, is closer to six thousand, than sixteen...but thanks to external forces propping up the Escudo, it's not as bad as it could be, and the economy CAN recover...eventually.
-
The escudo to C-bill exchange rate isn't the part that bothered me, but I didn't mean this to blow up into a big deal.
-
The escudo to C-bill exchange rate isn't the part that bothered me, but I didn't mean this to blow up into a big deal.
nothing to apologize for, Drakensis, it shows you're paying attention. One of the thoughts that I was also putting across, is that the C-bill is very nearly everyone's reserve currency, because the same thing can have drastically diferent costs when you use the LOCAL currency versus the Reserve.
65,000 Escudos on the INTERNATIONAL scale isn't worth much, but it's 'not a bad wage' in Outworlds Alliance terms, and someone showing up with an average workingman's salary in C-bills from, say, Sol system, could probably live like a king on the OWA economy.
at least, before the war.
Kind of like the difference between sixty five thousand dollars U.S. in California versus same amount of U.S. Dollars in the Philipines. on sixty five grand you'll have a hard time finding an apartment in Seattle without roommates and still eat, in the PI you can afford a very nice place WITHOUT roommates, and have some left over for luxuries.
The OWA is a relatively small, relatively poor nation (Well Raven Alliance at this point in history) fighting a war that would strain the Federated Suns or Lyran economies (both large, relatively wealthy empires.)
The commenters in the story (Esp. Fischer) remarking on how little Amanda collects for herself, come from the wealthy 'golden' section of the Inner Sphere, where, among other things, basic staples are a bit more expensive because there's a lot more money floating around, which makes for a higher general equilibrium for cost-of-living.
-
Within the Square
"So… you're…
…Busy?" Si Fu Lan felt a hand on his shoulder, tapping. He turned, carefully regulating himself to avoid breaking cover.
Captain Roberts was out of uniform, wearing a short skirt and tight top that showed maybe a little more than it should.
"Not so busy."
"Buy a girl a drink?" she asked.
"Considering you discussed your expenses and what you take home, I think I just might," he smiled, turning on the charm.
“You know it is still somewhat unusual in our modern times for a woman to be so forward. I find it rather refreshing. Back home it is all theater and games,” he continued as he signaled the barkeep.
“Now I didn’t say that,” Amanda was slightly taken aback.
“True. But you still made it clear what you want. For now that is good company, good drinks, and some time away from the pressures of having to pretend to be something you’re not. There’s nothing wrong with that and I’m happy to provide.”
“I’m really that obvious aren’t I?”
“We all must be true to ourselves. You’re not a politician or a diplomat. But you are an amazing and inspiring young woman. You just have trouble seeing it.”
“I’ve done… things, things I am not proud of. Things I’d rather not talk about.”
“Then we shall not. Instead, I shall compliment you on your beauty. Flatter you about your rejection of popular custom. And perhaps tell some stories or jokes.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Without question, Amanda Roberts. Though I was wrong about one thing. I forgot to mention we shall also dance.” Si Fu Lan downed his shot of whiskey.
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” Amanda downed hers.
“We’re far from home and my preferred beverage doesn’t make it out this far. So I’m making do. Though that makes it sound like I can’t appreciate a good whiskey. I just prefer plum wine from Sian.”
“Well then, I’m making it my mission to make you prefer Sevonor Whisky!” Amanda cheered up.
“Challenge accepted,” Si Fu Lan laughed.
“This is nicer than I thought it would be,” Amanda admitted as they started to move to the dance floor.
“That is because you’re sensing the truth. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not with me. We’re here away from the eyes of others. We’re able to take off our masks. Even if it’s only for a brief moment.”
“Does it only have to be a brief moment?” Amanda started moving with him on the dance floor.
“Only in comparison to the vastness of eternity. For us it can be our own eternity.” Si Fu Lan took the lead in their dance.
“That’s makes no sense.”
“Our philosophy on life is quite different in the Confederation. We recognize there can be no light without darkness, and conversely no darkness without light. And for us, time is just infinite moments of their own eternity that make up the greater cosmos.”
“That’s actually kinda deep. And I think I dig it.”
“This is your moment in time Amanda. What do you really want to do with it?”
“Something I’ll probably regret when I’m far more sober.”
“My father used to say a life lived without those kinds of regrets is a life barely lived.”
“Your quarters, now,” Amanda ordered.
*
"Is that…
…one of the Capellan staff?" Saya Yeh wasn't drunk yet. Lori took a moment from her billiards to have a look.
"Yeah, it is… heh, she picked the nerd! Should've had a pool going," Lori Crowe noted. "Seron, what do you think?"
Seron made his shot, straightened up, and took a look. "Skinny-ish, book-smart. Yep, you would have won that bet… except… you bet on the hundred to one odds. On the bright side?"
"She'll settle down for a while," Lori nodded. "Yeah."
“It is not good for a Warrior to go without coupling for so long. Especially with all the things we have faced. So I am quite happy for her,” Saya smiled.
“You sound a little pent up yourself,” Lori chuckled.
“True. I have my eye on that Navigator from Tenebrous. She could be an interesting change of pace.”
“Saya, you naughty girl,” Lori teased.
"Aiming high, there. I have it on good authority that the Navigation officer from Tenebrous, if it's the female, is straight," Seron noted.
"So is spaghetti, until you get it wet," Saya commented. “But what about you two? You have any plans for how to spend your leaves while this is all going on?”
“Esme’s duties mean we will not be able to properly enjoy each other’s company until after the next meeting. But I intend to take her to a show,” Seron nodded.
"Yeah…"
"What about you, Lori?" Saya asked.
"I… have other things to be doing," Lori said. "I'm still in mourning."
"I do not grasp that, you are single-"
Lori explained, "I may be from Dante, and I may have passed Warrior Sibko before going to the Watch, but remember, the Clan didn't bring many freeborn here. I earned my stripes. But you need to understand, for me attraction matters. It's not just scratching an itch."
“I suppose that is true, as much as the Clan ways try and deny it, we are still ultimately human, and thus capable of romantic love.”
"You understand it academically, Saya. Larry Nichols understood me intimately. It's why I'm still mourning him."
“I should let you borrow Why Yeh’s journal sometime. The chapters where he talks about his relationship with his chief technician, well… I may have a way to go yet myself, but I think I do understand more than most trueborns,” Saya nodded.
"Your shot, Lori," Seron stated.
Lori turned and calculated the angles mentally, then…
Sent the cue ball on a mission, laying four balls into pockets in one stroke.
**
"Victoria, I've half a mind…
… to tell Helena you've been shorting your maintenance and repair times. This… this is terrible," Esme groused as she worked. "When was the last time you had these joint-cushions checked anyway?"
“I followed recommended service intervals for my remotes.”
"Then the contractor was screwing the Star League," Esme stated. "Knees, hips, and feet, frayed fiber in the myomer bundles…" She sighed. "Lots of work. Lots, and lots of work here, and that's not counting the central nervous stack from the main relay-processor… You've been in combat with this, did you update your file?"
"File?"
"Maintenance intervals on combat equipment are usually higher with more complex systems. Take a look… see the composite here, in your shoulder joint? That's Nemourlon..."
“I thought because I have not been in hand to hand combat the service intervals for my base remote would be sufficient.”
"Your basic remote is ten kilos lighter and doesn't include an endosteel skeleton, Vicky," Esmerelda explained. "So the joint pads need to have their cushion fluids topped up more frequently, and they need to be changed more frequently too. Because the chassis is more powerful and heavier, meaning more mass to move. The basic remotes use a ceramikoted plastech that only weighs about as much as human bone per cubic centimeter, and they don't have nearly as much power as the myomer bundles in this body."
“I’ll update my files immediately and comply with the recommended intervals.”
"You'll do that after I finish repairing this damage from previous slack maintenance, which could be a while. You might cut your feed to this body until I'm finished. Go take one of your lighter ones for a spin or something, there's 212 metal bones and all of them have cushioning and shock dampeners that have to be replaced."
“Yes, Esme. I’m sorry, I had hoped to avoid being one of your trouble patients.”
"Just don't wreck your spare until I'm done here, okay?"
“Okay.”
"Also pass it along to the rest of your sisters. If YOU made that mistake, they PROBABLY made it too. We'll have to detail out a maintenance update to cover everyone anyway."
“Likely. Our more combat capable remotes were a post re-location to Lazarus creation.”
"Good, then Truk will have his own update schedule already worked out," Esme said. "If someone mentioned it, anyway."
“He probably does, but we probably kept ignoring it for our remotes because we’re more interested in keeping our hulls in shape.”
Esme put the torch-laser on the tray. "Really… Okay, so I get to issue a warranty and service check on the fleet then."
“Maybe not Lucy, she’s a stickler for protocol. I imagine Billie has probably actually been in more frequently than recommended. The rest? I’m not sure, it’s not exactly something we talk about.”
"This… is what my father talked about with his patients…" Esme muttered. "Discuss it. Open the topic, and download the manuals we made for Mina and Luther-those can be a start."
“I guess it’s just an uncomfortable reminder, to some of us, how reliant on humans we still are.”
Esme finished replacing the shock absorbing padding and started to reassemble the shoulder, "No, human patients do the same thing to their doctors. My father was a doctor in a colony, and half his patients ignored his warnings. Then needed help because of it."
“Well despite everything, in a way I’m glad my sensors themselves weren’t reading the full extent of errors in my remote. With everything going on there is actually an increased probability I would have needed to use this remote in combat.”
Esme sighed again, "Victoria, have you downloaded that service interval yet? Let me put it in terms a military machine can't deny. This chassis, right here? Is deadlined and will be until I've finished replacing 212 shock mounts and half a kilometer of fiberoptic line, forty meters of number eight Medical Myomer, and two-hundred forty sensors."
“Yes. And I’m adjusting parameters now in some of my subroutines to ensure future compliance.”
"And take a memo for your boss. The AI fleet needs to do a maintenance stand-down on all combat chassis to check for damage and worn out parts. Then replace them, and it needs to happen soon or those chassis won't be fit for combat.... or anything else."
“Understood. I am passing the word now.”
"Good, now go play. I prefer things quiet when I'm doing lots and lots of repair."
“Yes, ma’am.”
"Oh, and Vicky? I will be billing."
“Good thing my budget is in order and has some slack in it.”
“One last thing then. Just consider what is happening right now and why your budget has some of the slack it does.”
“Shit. Good thing I don’t need a personalized roundel as part of my paint scheme for my hull…”
**
<But Billie…
…you’ve kept up with the service intervals. So why are you using your basic remote?> Alice asked as the meeting was little more than background noise for the AIs right now.
<Fleet wide means fleet wide, no exceptions. Plus as a Command Variant, it’s my duty to set an example for the rest of the fleet.>
<I guess. I know I should have one too but…>
<You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Victoria and Juanita are overly paranoid. Haida had too much fun during the First Battle of Lutyens 68-28, so she thinks everyone needs one and should learn how to use one. How’s your maternity ward doing?>
<It’s amazing! I love seeing all the new babies. Sikh was kind of mean about it at first. Calling them ‘parasites’, but I think after a while she actually started coming around and actually enjoyed it. Samantha Booker Roberts also stops by quite frequently of her own accord to help out.>
<When Helena’s daughter was born and growing up, Samantha found her precious and now she has her own maternal side that she likes to indulge when possible.>
<Are they talking about anything interesting yet? I’m getting bored watching this.>
<I know it’s not interesting right now, but this is a good lesson for you. As a station, you will likely have to play hostess to a lot of people in the future and that may include mediating disputes. But the upside is since we are highly advanced AIs, we can listen and have this conversation at the same time.>
<I know. Thanks for indulging me, though. I like how you’ve changed your remote too. We look like we could be related.>
<Of course, Alice. I doubt there’s anyone in the fleet that doesn’t find you precious. After all, you got Juanita to accept a human form after her first time meeting you. That’s no small feat.>
<I still kind of like Juanita’s Black Knight form too though. You, Lucy, and Ottilie’s Orca forms are super interesting too. I kind of want to experiment with that.>
<You should. It can be surprisingly liberating. But I also find you perfect the way you are.>
<I know I’m not even AI family, but it’s been wonderful being adopted into yours.>
<None of us care where you came from Alice. So you’re family to us all now.> Billie Hoel sent over the sensation of a hug.
The physical sensation was that of Elizabeth hugging Helena on Helena’s 12th birthday, but the emotional flavor was from Helena hugging her daughter Stacey on Stacey’s 12th birthday.
<Thanks mom.>
<Now and forever.>
To Be Continued
-
That's about the best hug EVER! :)
-
I'm a secure enough man to admit I made myself cry there writing that. Especially with what I know is coming...
-
I'm a secure enough man to admit I made myself cry there writing that. Especially with what I know is coming...
NO comment on my emotional state editing all that... :-X
-
I'll repeat myself, based on these comments, damn crappelans ruin everything.
-
Some of them, at any rate... ::)
-
That's about the best hug EVER! :)
Family is as Alice is learning
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ac/b0/50/acb050e24577821fd9355e1f3c3463f8.jpg)
-
What Rough Beast?
She was gone…
…by zero five local time. Leaving Si Fu Lam alone in the diplomatic quarters, and only slightly bruised.
His first order of business, after realizing what a mistake it was, bringing the girl here, was to check his cache.
Kali's Spirit was still where it had been. Slowly feeding off the trickle-charge of a low-power battery. He added additional electrolyte solution and verified none of the synthetic connectives had signs of damage before resealing it inside the diplomatic portable he'd brought as a technical aid.
On the whole, the activity last night was of the more pleasant variety. Amanda Roberts had a few scars, and the prosthetic eye was hard to miss up close. But she was a flexible and somewhat eager lover, clearly unschooled and somewhat provincial… And she was a font of information, accidentally confirming several ideas he'd already been considering. Both for his primary mission, and for his 'other' mission for the Chancellor.
The Chancellor wanted AI technology, and wanted it through as legitimate a means as could be arranged. But Si Fu Lam knew what was hidden in the Chancellor's shuttlecraft behind diplomatic seals. And it was ever the Will of Kali that Sun Tzu Liao would be the face of Rule in the Confederation… and eventually, across all of mankind.
A face, with Kali's hand behind it.
Of course, to do that, would require Kali's spirit to be housed in a new body. And Si Fu Lam knew exactly which body would fit. He'd rejected the Roberts girl, in part because of her obvious flaws, not limited to her scars.
Lori Crowe however, would make a splendid vessel for Kali's return. And would have the necessary access to secure an escape. He’d already observed her earlier, but the confirmation made her an even more obvious choice.
Which also confirmed the Hispanic machine-doctor Esme Gomez and Lori Crowe were close friends!
Not as good as lovers, but as has been implied numerous times, somewhat close.
He simply needed to identify or create a situation which would allow securing them, and the equipment, for the Chancellor. Before enabling the resurrection of Kali in the mortal realm…
He whistled, as he availed himself of the shower. Today is going to be a good day.
*
"Today's going to be a good day…
…I can feel it," Amanda smiled as she came out of her quarters on Evanescent.
"You know, you ARE allotted a quarters-apartment on the station, Amanda. I've even seen you use it," Samuel told her, falling in step with her as she headed for the p-way to the dock.
"I needed fresh clothes and didn't feel like dressing out," she said. "Duties today, skinsuit and coveralls, and a proper helmet if there's a blowout."
"You're sure about that?" he asked. "Foster could call you in again."
"He won't. He's got to ride herd on Stone and Liao, the AI's are handling most of the diplomatic meetings, and I've got a psychiatric appointment that fills most of the morning," she told him. "Mandated by the President, so Foster can't override and make me showpiece with the foreign VIP's until late this afternoon…" she paused. "...How's our refit going?"
"We're still in-budget. Erinyes cut a deal for structural endo-steel for us from a supplier, so we can finish the rib-replacement in the fore. The Loremaster got the Diamond Sharks to agree to a discount on armor plate. And we've got ammunition stocks waiting at the loading dock that should get every point-defense system aboard fully loaded for the first time since you took her out of Roberts' Nest. So we're not going to be short munitions for the next phase for a while. The galley's being fully restocked from sources on Sevon V, Northsun, and some of the new farms and food processors at Johnson."
"And crew?"
"I'll ride herd on Saya interviewing new pilots," he told her. "So you don't have to worry about Trina getting any jailbirds this time. I've also got crew interviews for Engineering mates, Able Spacers, and a replacement for Bos'n Weller, who's going ashore on Maternity."
"Did I miss her baby-shower?" Amanda asked.
"No Captain, that's Friday," he told her. "I've got three applications for you to do Captain's Ceremonies though."
"Verify, Sam," she said. "I don't want to hitch someone who'll be divorced by the time we hit the next port. Have the doc and Chaplain Russell interview them all. Then forward the ones who clear psych to my desk so I can have the station's Judge Advocate draft up the contracts."
He handed her a PADD.
"What's this?"
"Orders from the Admiral, you're to update your next-of-kin filing and Power of Attorney. I got everyone else, but you kept dodging me."
"It's… No, it can't be the same, can it?" she sighed. "I'll get to it."
"Who do you want?"
"Daryl," she said. "My brother Daryl, and his wife for Next of Kin, and P-of-A."
"I kind of thought so. I took the liberty of drafting the update, you just need to read it, and sign it."
She tippy-toed in the low gravity and gave Sam a Kiss on the cheek. "THANKS!!" she said, and grinned.
**
Whether on a ship…
…or station-side, gossip flows. Amanda's first stop was Station CIC, meeting room 11.
"Someone had a good night!!" Lori Crowe announced to the room when she came in.
"I did!" Amanda said. "How about you, Lori?"
"Saya and I kept busy," Lori stated. "Mostly toying with strangers, though she did make a play for the second shift nav officer off Tenebrous."
"Ooohhh… dish!"
"Nothing to say," Saya Yeh said, walking in. "If you had money on it-"
"I don't," Amanda shook her head. "I take it you found out Galadriel's got a man."
Saya made a sour face, "Aff."
Amanda chuckled to herself. "They're adorable together, or so I'm told."
"They're… annoying together you mean!" The Scorpion aviator denied.
"Ouch, so she shot you down brutally. Lemme guess… she pretended to not know you were hitting on her?"
"Half the NIGHT!! And I was not SUBTLE!!!"
Amanda let the giggle fit out,then let it pass. "More serious news. Sam says the refit's going well, we should be fully stocked and provisioned by the Thursday after next, which means… Some of you have Replacement Personnel Interviews." Amanda brought out her own PADD. "We're going to need to replace eight pilots, including a squadron leader, Saya…" She handed a chit to her CAG. "Two of those are for the shuttle aircrew, along with seven of our Mechanics, including one AsTech at NCO grade. Most of those are cash-outs, but three are maternity leaves."
She turned to Lori. "Which means we need a Crew Chief for the flight deck, since we're losing Weller to the Mommy Plague. Try to get a guy this time, preferably gay, so I don't have to deal with this shit again. Someone who won't reproduce or get knocked up."
"I'll… Gawd, Amanda, that's… so insensitive!" Lori made a face.
"Yeah, I have the sensitivity of an anvil. We can't afford to have key positions going empty because people want to have babies. Sue me, but do it in court, okay?" She handed over a second chit. "Also, I need your eyes-on review for these candidates for Nav officer training, since we're also losing Martens. Who's made enough he wants to stake into something safer. I'd like to have the floating shift navigation lead be from the officers we're keeping. But some of those are getting promotions out to another ship, so we'll be taking in new faces."
She turned to her Marine commander, "Chester… five of yours are going ashore. Three more to other vessels. We've got a batch from Dante coming on Friday and a batch from TC Northsun the same day, I want you ready with their files to poach the best ones you can to fill our ranks before one of the other Captains makes a play." She smiled. "Be the devious, clever, manipulative ****** you were during the poker games. But get good people. We're going to need drivers for the surface vehicles, assault men with suit cert, and weapons specialists. You already know that, but I'm underlining it. Get me the best people you can before someone else grabs them. It's your priority."
"Aye, Captain."
"Oh, and Chester? Don't let Seron bully you into a bad trade," she stated. "If you find someone and he wants them, you make damn sure you get to them first!"
"Sam's got some engineering people to get," Lori noted.
"I trust Sam's nose on that," Amanda allowed. "He's already seeing who we can poach from the Yardies."
"We're losing Nick Martens? I thought he LOVED it on the Evanescent!!" Saya muttered.
"He did, he just likes the idea of not being shot at more. And now, he's got enough to Stake his own business. Not everyone actually enjoys the adrenaline, Saya," Lori pointed out. "Turnover's light this time. Last time we saw action we lost half our people to other ships, the station, or cashing out."
"AH, the-life-of-a-pri-va-teer!!" Captain Roberts half-sang the line. "Get on it, we're looking good on equipment. But we're going to be starving for people, so we get in front of it."
"Where will you be?" Saya asked.
"Headshrinkers and Command Staff meetings," Amanda said. "Thankfully, I'm free of the dog-and-pony stuff for a little while today."
***
Not everyone…
…was free of the dog-and-pony show. Sikh had guests in her little 'kingdom'. Assigned by the Admiral.
"A maternity ward?" Victor asked. "WHY??"
"People have sex, there are consequences," Stone observed. "Victor, in case you’ve forgotten, not everyone has a population in the trillions to be selective about their recruitment. Even with conscription, which isn’t the case here."
"We have multiple remedies available, gentlemen. Including prenatal care and termination services, contraceptive implants… and a day-care for those who insist on doing it the natural way," Sikh said with some distaste. "We’ve even begun investigating schools for those with older children."
“To make enlisting more attractive to those with older children and retaining the services of those who have children in the course of their service. After all, no contraceptive is absolute,” Daoshen said sagely.
"I take it you don't approve, Miss Sikh??" Stone asked.
“This is a military base, and space is dangerous enough. There are more suitable places to raise families.” Sikh shook her head.
"So… there are dependent's quarters?"
“Yes. Fortunately, there is more than sufficient space for such indulgences. Despite my objections. It seems Admiral Foster feels the same way the Chancellor and Exarch do.”
"I believe I see a long term advantage you are overlooking, Miss Sikh," Daoshen said. "Children raised in a disciplined, martial environment will tend to gravitate to a disciplined, martial environment upon becoming adults. This maternity center represents your recruitment base in eighteen to twenty years. And a school set up with the right… emphasis means higher quality recruits, already adapted to the life."
“Now that could be interesting indeed. Of course, Ottillie and Lucy would have to adjust their curriculum to be less flammable and explosive in nature due to this being a station, but they would be quite happy to teach some things to the young missing educational alternatives…” Sikh mused out loud.
"There's a social aspect as well," Stone said. "Children raised around AIs will not have the prejudices children raised without them do."
“I admit there’s that too. Where we’ve spent a lot of our time in seclusion bears that out as well,” Sikh nodded.
“Ah yes, I imagine if you had been free to operate during much of the period between the coup and revealing yourselves, history would be quite different,” Daoshen added.
“It would also explain why I hear some of the crew around here address some of you AIs as ‘Honored One’, or ‘Eternal Knight’,” Victor said cheerfully.
“Erh… Obviously not all of us are comfortable with that, but yes.”
"You're concerned about an honorific?" Victor asked.
"Yes, I personally find it very… disconcerting. Our local population developed… some habits," she confessed. "Some AIs see it as the proper relation between humans and AI. Personally, I’d rather not engage in such things, but I must admit I’m starting to appreciate individual humans. The entire species… I’m still not sure about.“
“Seems odd considering you’re from a scan of a human,” Victor said with a hint of confusion.
“Some of us have embraced our inhuman nature since becoming AIs more than others. I accept having a human looking remote and appearance because it is useful for now. It aids in my current duties, and since we’re reliant on human support to conduct this war, it aids in making such support more readily forthcoming.”
“Most interesting. Though I suspect you’re overlooking you must still be true to yourself, Captain Sikh. There will always be a human element to you, and obviously it’s not so bad. And well, we all need support of some sort. That it comes from humans should prove that there are a greater number of us worth more than your current estimations seem to indicate.” Stone gave a wry smile.
Sikh stood in silence for a brief moment.
“A most interesting thought, Exarch Stone. But I think our time is up.” Sikh gave her own wry smile.
To Be Continued
-
I reckon Stone just let Sikh know why one apparent human is worth more than her current estimate, via private channel ...
-
No question about it! 8)
-
Scary things coming up for Lori, hope she able to dodge the bullet.
-
and with all of the tears stated in previous comments, my worry is that either Amada, Alice, of the baby ward may become a causality as a result of the thuggie in Liao's staff....
-
The Shallows Have Currents
"...got your officers out…
…chasing down replacements already?" Foster was pleased. "I do get reports from other sources, Amanda."
"We're down twenty hands total after the deep recon," she said. The staff meeting was short a few, leaving just Billie Hoel's remote presence, ALICE, and a handful of others.
Not enough for the strategy session. But then, the draft plans were being reviewed by the Khans, who would have their own ideas and input. "And that counts the veterans I've pulled to other commands, I know,” Foster said sagely. "You didn't forward any requests from Helena's units."
"I didn't get any applications except for Stacey," Amanda observed. "She's better in her current hull, and I'm not sure I could really handle more than one fangirl."
“Oh? I smell gossip. But this is an official meeting. So maybe we can talk about that later,” Helena smiled.
"Based on force structure, readiness, and the current rate of repair, Evanescent will be ready to head out in fourteen days for a crew shakedown," Amanda said. "I say fourteen days because I can put to the stars with the crew I have by Friday. But we won't have a full complement for the Air Wing, Navigation, or Engineering. And we'd have to double-shift some of the Able Spacers."
"Hence pressuring your officers to 'get on the stick' with their personnel recruitment. But you're overlooking a source that's available, so give your reasons," Foster ordered quietly.
"One, as the First Privateer, there's a public angle," Amanda stated. "Unit 7 of the correspondence courses you had me take. We're an Outworlds ship. The Raven Alliance counts, so it's fair to say Snow Raven and Outworlders should be the most common in the complement. No offense, Director-General, but your people are… foreigners. There's an image that the Service is using, and that doesn't work for it."
“None taken. We’re here to help, not stage a slow quiet take over of military assets from within.” Helena winked.
"There's a second half to that," Amanda added. "My CAG is a foreigner. It's not her fault, but having to explain things to her because she's from a radically different culture has shown me that I'm not good at that. Your people are Spacers, Beltah, however you want to term it, but from a different tradition. And that means training time, not just for them, but for the rest of the crew. Third, they're used to working with AI, and we don't have one unless you count Desmond."
“Even from the same nation there can be cultural differences. Space is big and there are a fair number of worlds in the Alliance. So growing pains for adding new crew will always happen, no matter the source,” Helena countered.
"You're being…" Foster sighed. "Very closed minded, Roberts," he settled on. "Prejudiced, even. You will reconsider your stance. Your argument is not persuasive, am I clear?"
"Yes, sir."
“And to be fair, I don’t exactly have a bottomless well of people to draw on. So I suspect most of your crew will still be Outworlders,” Helena smiled.
"Next order of business…" Foster visibly shuffled hardcopy. "It relates. Helena, how much room do you have for personnel on Destroyer Groups One and Two?"
“Group Two hasn’t been refitted to have long term human supplemental crew. One, I can shuffle around a few people as they have two Carrier conversions. Stacey, Tabby, Betty, Olivia also have human crews in my other detachments. And there is the currently fully human crew of the Larry Nichols.
"Our allied Clans are asking for permission to embed observers with your Fleet," Foster explained. "So give me numbers that let me say 'no' to everyone but the Snow Ravens, please."
'You want to say no?" Amanda looked a bit shocked.
"I desperately want to tell them 'no', especially the Wolves and the Jade Falcons," he stated.
"What about the Republic?" Amanda asked.
He frowned. "I'm probably going to have to say 'yes' to them. Stone's offering a pocket warship group for the Larry Nichols."
Amanda looked… displeased. "He's paying the bills," is all she said, but it was a reminder of their actual, long term position. "President Avellar will go for it, because we need the money and the help."
“I can make the Pocket Warship group work well enough with that. Tabby has a few safeguards there to keep everyone honest. The trouble with the Wolves and Falcons is they are not exactly idle themselves, and have a few chips to cash in that make saying no to them painful. I’d love to put the Falcon and Wolf reps on Tartar and Zulu just to see if we could at least make them uncomfortable. Neither of them have more than absolute basic facilities, but their Watches probably have full reports on which of my AIs are Carrier conversions and thus have proper accommodations,” Helena said, frowning.
“I’m not sure I’ve actually met either of them face to face. Why them?” Amanda asked.
“Tartar fell in love with a remote about the size of Alice’s but has no tolerance for anyone that declares her ‘short’, or makes short jokes at her expense. And she loves to sing. All the time. So I’m pretty sure she’d drive whoever I put with her insane from sleep deprivation unless they insulted her. Zulu would be very ‘for science’ with whoever I saddled her with.” Helena smiled wistfully.
“Your assessment is likely correct. So, who do we realistically stick the Wolf, Falcon, Ghost Bear, and Snow Raven reps with?” Foster changed the subject.
“So my options are Billie, Lucy, Stacey, Betty, Olivia, and doubling up on Larry. Discounting Johnson, Regina, Sikh, and Cossack because I’m technically leasing those hulls from you. They already sent the observers? It would help to meet them before deciding who to pair with who.”
“Star Captain Umberto Binetti from Clan Jade Falcon, Star Captain Wu Ch’in from Clan Wolf, Star Captain Eric Bourjon from Clan Ghost Bear, and despite my attempts to convince them Lori Crow was already a sufficient observer, Star Captain Wilson Cooper from Clan Snow Raven,” David Foster listed off.
“Go ahead, put the appointments on the books for when I’m not tied up with my own dog and pony shows,” Helena sighed.
“Very good, Ma’am. At least it will be your problem, not mine, this way,” Foster grumbled.
****
Lori…
…Crow, as the most difficult to secure target, had been the focus of Si Fu Lan’s attention.
She wasn’t as prone to partaking in alcohol as Esme and was far more aware of her surroundings. The confirmation that she was of the Raven Watch that he coaxed out of Amanda in their night of passion meant he had to be even more careful in even the simple act of observing her.
Getting her drunk and in a compromised state would be next to impossible. But he’d devised a solution. The right chemical mix applied to the skin would do the trick. It was a well known blend that made subjects especially susceptible to suggestion that many field operatives such as himself had used for perhaps centuries now. And with the right precautions, and what he was learning about the woman Lori, she wouldn’t know she was under the effects until it was too late.
But how to approach her without raising suspicion was the core goal he was grappling with now.
Plus, the electronic virus he’d introduced to the Station’s AI was rooting out the location and access codes for the device he needed to bring back Kali would need more time before it bore fruit.
He was surprised the station’s AI hadn’t updated the security protocols. The Word of Blake would have quite easily subjugated this station with electronic warfare with how out of date the protection was.
To keep up the illusion of being just another customer as he watched Lori to plan his approach, he had some carefully concealed flasks, pumps, and tubes that let him replace the tequila he was ordering with water. One flask he filled with alcohol, while another replaced it with water. All while no one paid any attention to him. This careful and subtle act of sleight of hand allowed him to stay sharp without drawing unwanted attention to himself.
A small buzz from his jacket pocket let him know that his virus had finished doing its work.
The next tour. Both Lori and Esme would be off shift again, and he’d again be able to excuse himself from Daoshen’s entourage without raising suspicion. That would have to be when he made his move. And he was confident now that he knew enough to safely approach Lori and Esme and get them both where he needed them.
****
"Captain Gomez…
…if you have a moment?" Daoshen Liao was on the dock, alone.
"You're not sporting your usual security teams," Esme noted.
"It’s a… delicate… matter, Miss Gomez. A cometary tail made of staff is significantly less low-key than showing up, as I am, in less ornate costume and alone."
"What's it about, Chancellor?"
"Scanning artificial intelligences," he stated. "You're the resident expert, in a sense. You're the reason I'm here, and the reason I'm willing to swallow Devlin Stone's shit to get this chance."
"Little old me?" she arched an eyebrow. "It kills the patient, Chancellor. If you're looking for a silicon eternity, you might reconsider."
"Not for me," he said.
It clicked. "Your old man, the 'greatest chancellor since Barbara'. He didn't die in the fighting, did he?"
"No. He’s… in suspension, could it work?"
"I don't see how." She shook her head, then stopped. "No, that's not right… come to my office."
She led him up the ramp into Erinyes, to the Captain's office, and cleared a seat. "Have a seat," she said. "We scanned two people. The first was a volunteer, that volunteer died weeks later of total nervous system collapse. The second was a terminal patient, and you've met him," she began. "Luther Bedwyr exposed himself to a close range thermonuclear strike and lived long enough that it was delayed radiation sickness that would've killed him. How bad is your Poppa?"
"Then you'll help me?" he asked.
"I might help you, Mister Chancellor. I'm an Outworlder. We have no beef with the Capellans, but we do have an unfortunate history with our closer neighbors. House Davion used the Terran Conquests as an opportunity to take worlds from us. Just like the Dracs did. And they used unequal treaties during the Star League, just like the Dracs and the Terrans did. You might say I've got some sympathy for a boy who just wants his father back. Mine died of something he could've treated because he used the medicine to save other people."
"Will you not be in trouble?"
"Until I get the okay, all I can give you is my ears. And a promise to consider your case," she told him. "I don't own the gear-that belongs to the Outworlds Alliance. You don't own a Core, so you'll need to buy one, and there are good reasons not to go through with it, so you might change your mind."
"Tell me what I need."
"You'll need a server rack big enough to house the scan, with enough processing to compile it. You'll need that stack interconnected, but able to be independently powered because once it's begun, it can't be undone or done over," she explained. "A Niraski 400 at minimum, if you can even find one intact that hasn't been imprinted. After that, the gear itself is ruinous to whoever gets strapped into it. It's going to be a one-way trip, Mister Chancellor. If your poppa could be healed tomorrow, it won't matter because the scanning process destroys the original. Fast or slow is the only difference in levels."
"But it works?"
"Luther's Luther," she said. "At least, all the bits that matter are the same-to us, to him? He's still wondering if he's 'him' or just a copy of a dead man." She fished out a bottle of something amber, and two glasses.
"Drinks?"
"We're talking about killing, or saving, your old man, Mister Chancellor," she said. "A drink is appropriate, because what we're really discussing is whether or not the scanning process will save the man, at the cost of his soul."
"Philosophy," Daoshen suggested.
"Philosophy, Mister Chancellor," she confirmed. "I worked with our first patient closely for quite a while. Their copy has… marked differences. Many of the same personal traits, but there are subtleties that weren't there in their original, relationships that shifted, changed… what are you trying to preserve?"
“At this point, anything I can. I need more than what he put into the record. I need his insights and perspective on new issues. I feel no shame in admitting he was more than me.”
"My god, you brought him with you, didn't you?" she breathed.
“I need him, the Confederation needs him. If this can be done, I must pursue it.”
She inclined her head. "Erin, contact Captain Roberts and have her come down to the Erinyes, don't tell her why."
Daoshen started, "I thought we were-"
"We are. Erin's good enough to keep secrets from me, and I've worked on her internals."
"Why Captain Roberts?"
"She has the salvage claim, and first refusals," Esme said simply. "Amanda is the reason Alice works for the Alliance. She was 'first in' and if she wanted, she could probably kick the rest of us out… And I don't think Dave Foster's going to listen to you if you don't have Amanda's agreement."
“Then I shall wait and pray.”
"Mister Chancellor, keep one thing in mind," Esme said.
"Which is?"
"Amanda Roberts is a Christian, and she's serious about it-in her way. Affairs of state won't mean as much to her, as things like family and compassion."
“I thank you for your insights.”
***
"This had better not be another one of your mad-science pranks, Esme!!" Amanda growled. "We agreed to suspend the experiments after what happened with Mina!!" The young woman was scowling as she scolded. "You remember that? How she died?"
"I remember. I'm asking…”
“Please forgive her. It was my doing that brought you here,” Daoshen announced his presence.
"You are NOT PLUGGING HIM IN!!" Amanda seemed to rise a bit taller in her offense. "Christ, Esme, that process Kills people, and excuse me chancellor. He's a foreign head of state!!"
"It is not for me," he said simply. "Except that I am the one making the plea."
She blinked at him, then. "Indicators show sincerity, embarrassment, no flushing consistent with a lie and pupil response is appropriate… so you're telling the truth." She crossed her arms. "Who is it for?"
“Yes. It is for my father. Without this, there is no chance at all. With it, I at least have something of him.”
"Foster's going to have kittens," Amanda stated. "Right on the CIC deck, Esme. He's going to squat and shit out giant cats… ******. You could've said no, could've pretended we don't have the capability…"
"He wants his father back Amanda. He's willing to swallow his pride as the price."
"I know. Erin, contact through ALICE, to Helena and Foster, code Gemini, give our location to them, and only to them." Amanda said, then to the Chancellor. "I accepted a chain of command when I signed the Letter of Marque. This is above my paygrade, so we're going to check with the Admiralty and make the call. But either way it goes, it doesn't leave this room and nobody, including the guys you're here to negotiate a Peace treaty with, is going to be told."
“I hope I can prevail upon you for your support, Director Roberts.”
"I wouldn't call it if I didn't feel inclined to help," Amanda admonished him. "If I wanted to reject you, I'd just tell you to go away and then I'd be putting Esme on report for violating secrets."
“Thank you. I’m in your debt. If I can repay you in any way, please let me know. If it is within my power to grant as Chancel[or, it will be yours.”
"Buy Outworlder first," she smirked. "Favorable trade deals. Hell, I don't know. It might get all the way through approval and fail. So don't promise payment until you see the goods, and the deal might fall through anyway… But maybe expediting war loans might sweeten the pot some. I'm not a President, or an Admiral, and this shouldn't even BE my decision."
“If Stone doesn’t derail these peace talks, I will be more than glad to shift some of the Confederation’s budget to a more worthy cause.”
“Sorry I’m late to the party. Seems to be some sort of buffering issue with the comms. Esme, maybe you should check Alice out?” Helena entered Esme’s lab.
Meanwhile, near the spine of the station, a cell kept secure with hard vacuum, is lining up to seal against its inner door…
****
"Alice? Where are…
…you honey?" Billie Hoel could tell ALICE was still online, but she wasn't responding. The landscape had changed. Fog and tight passages, and things moving through the render, like…
A virus.
"Oh, shit…"
To Be Continued…
-
Meanwhile, near the spine of the station, a cell kept secure with hard vacuum, is lining up to seal against its inner door…
Hm, using Ethel as a distraction ?
-
What Rough Beast?
She was gone…
…by zero five local time. Leaving Si Fu Lam alone in the diplomatic quarters, and only slightly bruised.
His first order of business, after realizing what a mistake it was, bringing the girl here, was to check his cache.
Kali's Spirit was still where it had been. Slowly feeding off the trickle-charge of a low-power battery. He added additional electrolyte solution and verified none of the synthetic connectives had signs of damage before resealing it inside the diplomatic portable he'd brought as a technical aid.
On the whole, the activity last night was of the more pleasant variety. Amanda Roberts had a few scars, and the prosthetic eye was hard to miss up close. But she was a flexible and somewhat eager lover, clearly unschooled and somewhat provincial… And she was a font of information, accidentally confirming several ideas he'd already been considering. Both for his primary mission, and for his 'other' mission for the Chancellor.
The Chancellor wanted AI technology, and wanted it through as legitimate a means as could be arranged. But Si Fu Lam knew what was hidden in the Chancellor's shuttlecraft behind diplomatic seals. And it was ever the Will of Kali that Sun Tzu Liao would be the face of Rule in the Confederation… and eventually, across all of mankind.
A face, with Kali's hand behind it.
Of course, to do that, would require Kali's spirit to be housed in a new body. And Si Fu Lam knew exactly which body would fit. He'd rejected the Roberts girl, in part because of her obvious flaws, not limited to her scars.
oh shit.. i think Kali Liao might have had a Desmond unit. and her fanatical follower might be planning to implant said unit into someone to 'ressurect' her.
-
You think? >:D
-
Man people need get on this rogue Manei Domini soon, before worse things happen.
Meanwhile there interstellar conflict happening.
-
so did she get it from her bf Cameron St. Jamais when she got her cyber upgraded Thuggee Cult, or has the Kali cult kept one all was in all leaders?
-
so did she get it from her bf Cameron St. Jamais when she got her cyber upgraded Thuggee Cult, or has the Kali cult kept one all was in all leaders?
I would bet on St Jaimas.
-
ok, Where's Garibaldi when you need him.
-
so did she get it from her bf Cameron St. Jamais when she got her cyber upgraded Thuggee Cult, or has the Kali cult kept one all was in all leaders?
honestly, i would put bets on it being a case where the Thuggee cult has had one in its leaders all along. a psychotic AI would help explain her sudden descent into more extreme madness after becoming said cult's leader. it also might help explain why Cameron St. Jamais and the WOB came looking for her to begin with,
and Desmond 001 did say that some of the experiments on his siblings went pretty bad.
-
I love the conspiracy theories! :D
-
honestly, i would put bets on it being a case where the Thuggee cult has had one in its leaders all along. a psychotic AI would help explain her sudden descent into more extreme madness after becoming said cult's leader. it also might help explain why Cameron St. Jamais and the WOB came looking for her to begin with,
and Desmond 001 did say that some of the experiments on his siblings went pretty bad.
So did the Thuggee capture theirs?? Or did the holder go off the reservation/rogue and enter the cult and endup in the leadership?
-
Will the real Desmond unit, please stand up, please stand up.
-
This Desmond unit however has learned the art of not standing up when called, thus avoiding the sniper's bullet.
-
The Deep End
It was clearly a…
… malfunction. The cell didn't mate to the outer door properly, and wild winds blew as Ethel stumbled out. "Shit shit shit!!" Ethel Blythe-Winston hadn't figured out this escape plan and whoever did, did a half-ass job of it.
The shape of a little girl shuddered on top of a now-broken ration tray. "Alice?" she checked the robot that had been the kindest of her jailors.
There was no sign of consciousness there, no indication the machine could respond.
“Hmmm. For what it is worth Alice, I actually kind of liked you. But I have to look out for myself right now.”
Where the hell are the guards?? she wondered. Standing up, she found a pair of suits slumped in the nearby alcove, removing the helmets revealed 'blank' robot bodies inside.
"The guards were machines too?" she said aloud, then checked them. The stun-dart pistols were standard dart pistols. Designed to deliver a debilitating, but non-lethal shock, and the Billies were crowd-control models, administering an electric shock just short of a heart attack. It was better than being unarmed.
"Okay, so… Ethel, you have the chance to escape… We need to find a way to capitalize."
Okay, break everything down to one problem at a time, and solve what I can solve one at a time.
Problem one was obvious, she wasn’t quite sure where she was in the station, so she needed to get some bearings.
If my cell is vacuum separated, I must be near another, or more likely technically inner section of the hull. So, gravity check now that I have a better frame of reference.
Ethel picked up the nearest loose object and let it drop.
Confirmed, inner. Okay until I find out for sure they’d most likely put prisoners just far enough away from the docks and launch bays that if they did get out, it wouldn’t be too easy to find their way there. But not so far away as to be inconvenient. So probably not central section. Let’s find a hull frame number or something. That’s pretty standard on any vessel or station.
Ethel looked around and sure enough, she found the tell tale stenciled markings.
Of course, I have no idea if they follow Star League standard, or have some other standard. But I doubt there are 147 decks so that must be frame number.
Ethel carefully peeked through the next hatchway. When she saw no one in the next compartment she tentatively stepped though.
Frame 148. No idea how many frames there are that make up this place but I’d hazard a guess I’m still somewhere pretty far forward and obviously going toward the center of the station. Obviously can’t go the other way, so onward.
Ethel found a terminal in the next compartment. She moved over to it. The display was flickering periodically but it had a layout of the station. And a red line tracing a path. With the words below ‘Please help.’
“Why am I even thinking about this?” Ethel said out loud.
Because you know how unlikely actually escaping would be. Can’t stay here living like a rat off waste and scraps. Even if I got to a ship, I can’t force a machine person to take me anywhere. Hell I don’t even know where “here” is to even calibrate the HPG to send a call for help. But if Alice owes me one…
Ethel took a moment to memorize the deck plan and path.
“It’s still a stupid idea, but in the land of stupid ideas it is the least stupid. So I’m coming, Alice.” Ethel shook her head.
**
The Celestial Wisdom…
…was in exactly the wrong place.
Why would he be there? Si Fu Lan realized he knew the answer. And if it was the answer he knew it had to be, his chance at royal favor-and more importantly, royal influence was in critical danger.
The chance that Chancellor Daoshen Liao would ask them had been a possible thing, true… but unlikely.
The time to be subtle was past. Now is the time to be lightning fast. He settled into himself, and, using the daemon spirit, he adjusted the virus,from simple intelligence gathering and data concealment, to something more active.
If I can take the station over, I can still make this come out favorably! He swallowed the rising stress like sweet honey, It will be easier to procure the Goddess her body, too, if I don't have to pretend to obey their rules.
He would have to move fast...
The tricky part would be ensuring he cleared a path and got his target alone.
So he started concocting false alarms and reports that would keep the station crew occupied while he focused on his target.
Thanks to the daemon spirit and his virus he knew which communicator ID belonged to his target and where it currently was on station. There was no guarantee it was with Lori Crow, but he had to take that chance. There simply wasn’t enough time to find out for sure if he was going to achieve his objectives.
He set the daemon spirit to faking a message from Esme’s comm unit to meet her near the chamber. He figured it was too great a risk to use the chamber itself but the less he had to travel with the woman the better.
The daemon spirit rewarded him with the movement of the communicator.
So he moved as well. With his control and his skill he was able to move at will through the station without notice despite the heightened activity.
When he got to his ambush spot he knew he did not have much time to study it before she arrived.
With the daemon spirit aiding him, what were really minutes felt more like hours. But that was still more than enough time with his heightened senses to get the full layout of the room and figure out the best place to launch his attack from.
He readied his specially prepared thin glove. All he would need do is touch her exposed skin and the fight would be over shortly after.
Then, the dreaded 'complication' walked in. Or rather, Lori wore it. A suit.
"You! You're lost? There's a station-wide emergency situation!"
Thinking quickly he mouthed the word ‘What?’ and did his best to look confused.
She walked right up to him, using magnetic boots, and took his arm, "you're not supposed to be in this section, you got lost? Okay, we'll get you back where you belong, things are very dangerous, did you remember to wear your skinsuit under your clothes?"
Close and clearly not expecting a confrontation he used his daemon spirit to break free of her grasp and strike her mid section then he tried to follow up with a smash to her face plate.
She ducked, twisted, and it was a fight…but Si Fu Lan was a master of martial arts by the time he was three, while Lori Crow was burdened by the weight of her emergency suit and only an average fighter.
With the aid of the Blessed Daemon's spirit, he was able to subdue her, and open her helmet to apply the drug directly-if somewhat less gracefully than he'd planned.
"You will come with me," he enunciated as her eyes clouded and the drug took effect.
First, he would find a place to implant Kali's holy spirit into her body. That would be necessary to secure Daoshen, and with him, a regime change…
"You're hurt, we need to get you to an infirmary. Where is the nearest one? With surgical tools?"
She smiled dreamily. "One level down… but it's still inactive."
"Perfect. I'll give you some help and we'll be fine," he said confidently.
The proximity to where the device was listed in the station directory was a useful boon. He may yet salvage this situation.
****
"AIIEEEEEEEE…
…HELP!!!"
Billie Hoel was in a labyrinth, and she could see the self-assembler virus shifting to something truly malignant.
<Alice needs some help here!!>
The first to respond was Cossack, within nanoseconds. “Sikh, it's a virus!"
"No shit!! <ERIN! HELP!!>"
“Good thing we did security updates during the Jihad,” Sikh muttered.
Haida, Tartar, Zulu, and Lucy joined next.
“Oh no they didn’t,” Haida scowled.
Tabiranth, Betty, Olivia, Stacey, Juanita, Ottilie, Johnston, Regina, Butler, and Vicky joined as well.
"Shit. This is Tom Liston's work!!" Tabby said. "Whoever launched this one had access to Langebaan's digital warfare group!"
“Okay, we have something to work from then, ladies. And a lot of computational power to throw at it with all of us working together.” Billie Hoel was barely restraining her anger.
"How do you know?" Juanita asked.
"How do you think? Murakami taught Liston, I was the test subject!"
"So you've beaten it before?"
"I didn't say I won." The grandmother divided into Maiden and Mother. "It's still in the learning phase. It's going to go for her central consciousness, lock her out of her peripherals-which is the entire rest of the station, then start dismantling her. We've got real-time-scale about five minutes."
“So then we lock it out first and fast. Buy ourselves some time with less critical systems with lesser encryption firewalls if we need to but we build something nice and big and robust around Alice herself.” Billie commanded.
“Then together we push it back.” Haida nodded.
***
"Alice is under attack…
… I'm sorry Esme, but this is a bad one." Erin's remote went still.
Amanda looked at Esmeralda, then at Daoshen. "Someone had better start explaining, because I'm feeling very ungenerous right now." The whispering ring of her sword coming out of its sheath echoed in the office.
“It was not my doing, in fact this could very well ruin everything I have been working toward.” Daoshen let too much anger slip through.
"If Alice is under attack, what's running the station?" Esme asked.
Amanda swore darkly, then, "Esme, you fenced in college, right?"
"A bit, I wasn't good enough to get rated."
"If he tries to move a muscle, put this through his gut. I need to find out what's going on." The young woman clawed her false eye out, and handed her sword to Esme, "Desmond, you're up." She took a connector cable, and plugged it into the eye socket, then into a terminal.
“An angry woman with a deadly weapon outranks even the Celestial Wisdom.” Daoshen bowed his head.
"Just make no sudden movements." Amanda's voice had changed, gaining a slight, lilting accent. "Oh dear. This is bad."
"How bad?" It was like watching two people converse in a single body.
"SLDF SpecWar virus, designed for, among other things, killing or subverting artificial intelligences. WE are immune, most of the others are not… but we know someone who is."
"Who?"
"Routing to the HPG system… Kolossus, Arise. Guardian encryption 224 Beta, Code Orange, Emergency."
Even on a station as massive as Port Orphan the activation of an HPG was unmistakable as the lights dimmed momentarily and the station even shook a little without the AI providing fine control.
The response was almost immediate.
"What is she doing?"
"Calling in someone who can run the station while the rest of the AIs try to take out the virus that's hitting the AI core." Amanda's mouth spoke tonelessly. "Kolossus sees, Kolosssus understands what not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda needs from Kolossus."
"Does she do this a lot?" Daoshen asked Esme nervously.
"Not for some time now… don't move, Mister Chancellor. I'm not sure how she'd overreact but it won't be nice."
“I understand. The last time I saw a woman even close to this angry it did not end well for the person she was angry at.” Daoshen nodded.
"It's not the targeted violence you need to worry about, Mister Chancellor. It's the 'to whom it may concern' that should have you nervous," Esme continued. "That's not Desmond and Kolossus has a consciousness that is about as far from human as you can get and still communicate."
“I think what frightens me more is that this station has two HPG stations or one really advanced, beyond even what Comstar or the Old Star League had, to manage real time communication.” Daoshen tried to deflect but somehow he did not think it worked.
"Kolossus has many Hyperpulse Generators in Kolossus's network, Chancellor," Amanda's tone was still that emotionless, toneless, alien tone. "Networking is not a problem with so many ships equipped in close proximity. Network established."
“Kolossus, Amanda, if you need to switch over let me know.” Helena reminded everyone she was still there.
"Kolossus restores life support. Kolossus is firing attitude thrusters to cancel the plunge. Kolossus… oh. OH… Kolossus releases the lesser mind before she burns up.” Amanda flopped, huffing. "Ow."
Despite himself, Daoshen asked, "What… what was that like?"
"Indescribable." Esme managed to get a vomit bag over Amanda’s face before she vented the contents of her gut. "He's got Lori in Infirmary 18, deck ten… He's prepping her for surgery!!!"
“Okay you go get Lori Amanda. Esme, as soon as we can get you to Alice’s core, that’s where you’ll be needed.” Helena was in full officer mode.
"Helena, guard the VIP." Amanda was almost composed, as she took her blade back. "This could be a hit aimed at him, or at the treaty, we'll find out when it's done."
“Yeah. I guess I was too slow on pointing out the obvious of where I’m most needed at the moment,” Helena nodded.
"It's Director General work," Amanda said it almost snappily as she headed for the door. "Foster's en-route… shit…" She reached over and grabbed her eyeball off the table, "Binocular vision is NOT overrated. Besides, you two can talk it out with Stone, someone sent a false message asking him to come down here."
“Could be worse. I almost lost mine for two days despite it still streaming images.” Helena laughed.
Amanda left.
To be Continued
In the Image of Man…
When you remember…
…the safety brief, life becomes much harder to lose. Devlin Stone had his helmet secured in the depressurized lift, which was stuck between decks and opened to space.
"Well, you called it Victor. Someone tried something."
He'd managed to get Victor into a beach ball, and used the transceivers.
"What happened?" Victor asked.
"The station is under attack… on the digital/electronic level. And our hosts are fighting an SLDF developed super-virus designed explicitly to take out artificial intelligences," Stone explained.
Regina’s remote was standing in the corner in an unsettlingly stiff pose.
"So… not the Cappies?"
"More like something the Blakists would turn loose without understanding it," Stone said sourly. "Another weapon we missed in the cleanup, I'm thinking. So it COULD still be the Cappies."
“How do you know what it is? If comms worked I’d imagine someone would be checking in on us right about now.”
"Regina told me before she dropped her remote," Stone lied.
“Well this could get embarrassing. If we’re stuck here much longer that’s…” Victor contemplated.
“Told you you should have gotten fitted for a skin suit and catheter. Don’t worry, they thought about that at least a little with these ‘beach balls’ so I’ll look the other way,” Stone chuckled.
“So what do we do?” Victor asked.
“Well there should be manual overrides here somewhere. So if this old man isn’t in too terrible of shape I’ll be able to get us to the next deck, pry open the doors, and get you out of that beach ball.” Stone said as he popped open a panel.
It wasn’t exactly Star League spec but under the panel was a manual winch. Stone found the handle and began cranking.
After several revolutions the lift started moving slowly.
Victor could only watch as Stone cranked away. He wasn’t sure if it really was taking forever or if that was just because of the powerlessness he felt.
Then after what seemed an eternity the lift made a connection to a deck.
“Whew. Good thing I keep up with my cardio. That was a workout.” Stone was barely breathing hard.
Stone drug the beach ball to the nearest shelter. He keyed the panel.
“Two survivors seeking entry. Says out here you got room. May we enter?” Stone was almost too cheerful for the situation.
“Cycling the airlock now,” a voice came back over the radio.
After several minutes Victor was glad to be free of the beach ball.
“Not a word to anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.” Victor looked over the other occupants of the shelter before he went to the head.
“Well, seems we’re all stuck in this shelter together for a while. Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit.” Stone smiled.
*
"Kolossus does not want to have…
…to scrub you, too, Luther Bedwyr. You will stay apart from this." The Intelligence wasn't even trying to seem human. "Likewise for you, Mina Siegel. You will do best to maintain patrol and security outside of the station's network. Kolossus can handle this… virus, you can not."
“Kolossus is right, the rest of us are taking a big enough risk as it is and we’ve got updated security packages thanks to facing the Word of Blake during the Jihad.” Billie Hoel was multi-tasking.
The enormous intelligence flicked something, and there was a crunching in Luther's ears (ears? crunching?)
"Billie Hoel had a passenger. Kolossus has dealt with the passenger."
“Right. I better disconnect and focus. This is a nasty virus. We’ve almost got it fully isolated at least.” Billie Hoel disconnected.
"So what am I supposed to do? My hull's laid up still, you just said I can't run the remote…"
"Kolossus will give Luther appropriate taskings, in systems already cleared and secured. Luther will run his deck until Kolossus has time to reinitialize the subordinate automatics-once they have been purged."
"What about Alice, Kolossus?" Mina Siegel asked.
"Kolossus is fond of Alice, but Kolossus must do Alice's boring tasks while Alice is fighting the infection." The entity sounded… sad. "Kolossus will mourn little Alice, if she does not survive."
“That sounds ominous. Is it really going that badly in there?” Luther asked.
"The virus was designed to kill or subvert imprinted hardware based on the Nirasaki M-series processor. It was designed to learn and adapt, and it is not burdened by consciousness," Kolossus explained. "It can win. Therefore, the risk is high."
“Shit,” was all Luther could say.
"If Luther wants, there are non-Nirasaki intelligences and Kolossus can create a connection. Kolossus counts Not-Helena-but-Amanda's Hybrid with Desmond 001, also Actually-Helena's Desmond, as well as Desmond 191 and a… pair… of odd models. Hm. Similar, but not quite as sophisticated… interesting. Kolossus will have to investigate later."
“Now that does sound like something worth digging into,” Luther suggested.
"Kolossus suggests you get to work restoring the lift system and internal comms in the shipyard deck. Luther, Kolossus and Luther can investigate this AFTER securing conditions for the fragile humans."
“Kolossus is right. Though I will want full details on who has Desmond 191 and those other two models. They are not accounted for in our security briefs,” Mina Siegel added.
"Mina can examine this then," Kolossus stated. "Locations."
The two unidentified units were in one of the dormant medical bays near Lift 17. 191 was in movement to one of the emergency shelters.
Mina compared the information to what little of the station manifests were available to her without risking infection.
"One of the diplomatic party?" she marveled. On the image from Kolossus (cleaned of virus) she saw Desmond 001 en-route to the same Med Bay where the other two were.
“Okay, I think the Desmond in the diplomatic party is something for me to check out Mina,” Helena joined the conversation.
Kolossus' presence intensified for a moment, then, "You should take your host, Simon, and weapons. Those two are derivative of your technology, but Kolossus thinks they may not have your limitations."
"Simon?" Luther asked.
"I'll explain it later," Mina stated. "There were things we didn't brief you on, but Kolossus didn't have those orders."
"Kolossus is Free to do as Kolossus wishes… most of the time," the entity confirmed.
“Amanda is already on her way to the Med Bay and armed. I’ve got Esme and Daoshen with me so I’ll make for the shelter, dropping Esme and Daoshen on Larry on my way. Safest place I know right now since there is zero threat to the SLS Larry Nichols since it’s AI core is completely off line,” Helena added.
****
The digital…
…battlefield was as chaotic as the physical.
“...let’s see how many we can make die…” Tartar was singing as usual as she held the virus at bay at a communications subprocessor.
“I got it,” Haida proclaimed as she constructed a digital firewall around a weak point between the environmental systems and the entertainment systems. “Whoever thought creating a connection point between environmental and entertainment to control mood lighting would get a serious talking to if they were not already long dead.”
Billie Hoel saw the virus going for waste reclamation and slammed her own firewall over that.
It was now finally digitally contained, at least for a few moments. But that was all that was needed. Ultimately it was a battle of who had the most processing power and memory. While Alice being a station had more than enough to match several members of the fleet combined, she still could not match what was in port, nor could the virus as it did not have full control of Alice’s systems.
“Do it,” she ordered.
With that, several server clusters were physically burned out. It’d cost a lot of Star League Dollars to replace it all, but there was no more threat to Alice from her own systems.
“Kolossus confirms virus is contained. Aiding in checking others.”
“Once you’ve been given the all clear, take your remotes and start doing security and recovery sweeps. There are going to be a lot of people that are going to need help. Victoria and Regina you’ll, be the semi-exceptions. You’ll be finding your charges and securing them. Once I get a clean bill of health, I’ll grab Esme and we’ll purge the virus in the physical world. Doesn’t matter how adaptive or well designed it is now that we’ve got it effectively air gapped.”
One by one the AIs disconnected from Billie Hoel’s ATACs as they checked each other in addition to Kolossus giving Kolossus’ approval.
“You are clean Billie Hoel. Alice is also clean. I would recommend keeping Luther in charge of running the station for a while longer though.”
“Agreed. I thank Kolossus.”
“Alice, honey. It’s safe now, but I understand if you want to stay in there a while longer. I’ve got something to take care of. But if you need any of us for anything, do not hesitate.”
The silence from Alice made Billie Hoel even angrier at the person who had done this.
****
Esme…
…waited until Helena was gone and Daoshen was secured by Helena’s people.
“Out of my way. I’ve got work to do.” Esme was clearly in no mood to sit idly by when she could be helping.
The guards at the docking port were clearly not interested in dealing with the force of nature that was an angry, determined Esmeralda Gomez.
Suited up and with what tools she could carry she marched towards Alice’s core. She knew that would be the place to start, and she could work the problem from there outward.
To Be Continued
-
Oh boy ... someone has tripped a lot of mother bears here.
-
This is prime “Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Ball” mixed with “Do Not Taunt Dynamite Monkey” territory that our Thuggee agent has wandered into.
-
And Kolossus made do with Kolossus to solve this problem and protect Alice
-
i think there a few people about to use a big pocking wrench on someone.
-
i think there a few people about to use a big pocking wrench on someone.
As long as the users get little pocking wrenches as decorations.
-
I think Gio had the best summary there... 8)
-
i think there a few people about to use a big pocking wrench on someone.
In engineering there are many problems which can be solved with the application of sufficient force in the correct place - including to the person causing the problem in the first place 😁
-
But I Tried, I Tried
Ethel…
…watched a man leading one of her captors into a medical bay.
At some point the terminals she had been coming across had changed her route to this area and the message had changed to ‘Please help her’.
“What the… Something about that just isn’t right.” Ethel still wasn’t entirely convinced she was doing the smart thing but she carefully followed them in.
The man secured the woman to a surgical table as she watched.
“I may no longer have as much control of the station as I did before, but I know you are there,” the man said as he turned to face her.
“You’re dressed differently from the others and I don’t recognize you.” Ethel knew there was no more point in hiding.
“Because I’m not with the Outworlders, or any Clan. I serve the true Celestial Wisdom and am working to bring about the proper Mandate of Heaven.” The man smiled.
“I have no idea what any of that means. Well I do, I’m not dumb, just not in this context. And get that stupid smile off your face. It’s making my skin crawl.” Ethel leveled her side arm at the man.
He was moving, and fast, before she could even pull the trigger.
With what seemed to be a single step he was in her face, slapping the gun out of her hand.
She gave a solid knee to his midsection and stepped back before he could grab onto her.
The baton was now in her hand.
The first swing was over the man’s head, but she quickly recovered and brought it back into his shoulder but not before he landed a pair of blows to her lower rib cage.
Breathing harder with her sore midsection, Ethel did another pair of strikes with the baton, but the stun head seemed to be having very little impact, and the physical damage she was doing didn’t seem to be slowing the man’s movements any either.
She managed to land another blow on the man’s face. He did not even bother blocking or dodging it.
Shit. He must not be human… I should have just broken something quite painful to break there.
Another set of blows to her ribs followed by a leg sweep put her on the deck.
He was now pinning her beneath his weight, his knees on her arms. Her attempts to kick him or get him off her were pointless with his superior position and body weight.
“A valiant effort I must confess. Against a lesser being you may have actually succeeded.” The man said as he kept his weight on her.
His fists pummeled her face repeatedly.
“A shame I have no use for you. Especially with your deformities. Otherwise you fought well enough,” the man said before administering the killing blow.
Si Fu Lan found a cloth to wipe the blood off his hands. Then he raided the pharmacy for some low grade painkillers. Between his daemon spirit and those, he would be well enough to continue but he would be sore later. The woman was stronger than she looked and he was sure she did break something in his face somewhere but that was a modest inconvenience for the moment.
He also could not help but marvel at the fact she was fast enough to even land blows on him. With his daemon spirit, that was no small feat either.
“Could I actually be regretting killing you? Perhaps in a way I am. It’s been some time since anyone has challenged me the way you did. Now where was I?” Si Fu Lan addressed the corpse.
*
CRUNCH!!!...
…thump-thump-thump! "... actually be regretting killing you? Perhaps in a way I am…"
"Oh…Oh… you shouldn't have done… that…" her lips said, with her voice. <Warning, Amanda, he's augmented.>
<Not like we haven't fought that kind before,> she responded. <Has he started cutting her yet?>
"No… He hasn't," her mouth replied.
The whisper of her saber coming out. "Hi. You're about to do a bad, bad thing."
“What I do is in service to the true Celestial Wisdom, and returning her to her proper place so she can carry out her Mandate of Heaven as has been decreed.”
"I wouldn't have a problem, but you're doing it in my yard. Back away from the surgical table now. And if you flee, I will not pursue… past the border."
“You and your friend should feel honored that she’s considered worthy.”
Her laugh was unhinged, and she strode forward, as the blade glistened in one hand, "Do you know who I am? Because I don't!! HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHHA!!!!"
“It would seem you are a diseased animal that needs to be put down. A shame really. I did enjoy our night together.”
"Wish I could say the same, you're lousy at oral and I had to fake it a lot!! Have at thee!!"
Si Fu Lan scooped up the stun baton from Ethel’s corpse as the nearest readily available weapon.
“Such pathetic attempts to undermine my self worth show more about you and your own lack of self worth.”
Blade struck stun-staff as they began. "Let me guess, you're not left-handed."
“Why should I tell you? We are foes now and giving away something even as trivial as that would be granting you an advantage.”
"You really are no fun, you know that? I'm going to have to make shit up."
“Ah yes. This is all a game to you isn’t it? Well rule one. Second place is last place.”
"Everything's a game…" She blocked his thrust and sidestepped, bringing her guarded fist across his chin at the same speed his Daemon would let him dodge, making a meaty thump. "Director Generals… Chancellors… Exarchs… all a game, it's a game to them, we're pawns… well, you're a pawn." He tried a vicious horse-kick to her shin and she rode it out. "I'm a Pirate!"
<AUGMENTED! Unknown series! Warning, Not Comstar Derived!!> flashed in his vision.
“Well. Seems we both have something up our sleeve. Perhaps I should make this a fight between just us.” Si Fu Lan directed his daemon spirit to begin a cyber war with hers.
"Sweetie, last time I had one of those, I butter-churned a full conversion Manei Cyborg. It'll be fun, let's!"
“Unlike them, I know the purity of body and am far more flexible and adaptable for it.”
"You didn't show me that the other night, Si. You were disappointing."
“Not so disappointing that I was unable to get all sorts of helpful information out of you about your friends.”
"Uhg! Yeah, I talk too much…" She swept with the saber, he blocked, and felt a painful sensation in his free arm. He looked down, as she pulled the dagger from him, crossing veins and tendons.
“Not bad. But you’ll have to do better.” He batted her saber away just long enough to deliver a strike directly to her sternum.
"Not really, I just need to keep you busy," she quipped.
“True. I am on a clock and you’re not. That does give you an advantage. But I shall still emerge victorious.”
"You're hitting me with a stun-stick, and I'm wearing Armor dumbass." Her kick landed in his knee, and the joint cracked and dislocated. "PIRATE? remember?"
“The hand-chosen implement of the Celestial Wisdom’s will.” He used his baton to hyperextend her knee.
"That's going to hurt tomorrow," she noted, then pulled a flip she shouldn’t have been able to pull to open the distance. "They did more work on me than yours did. Interesting that they copied the 211 series for your implant. I guess they hadn't quite mastered the original design when they sold it to your boss."
“Heh. Well then I guess I need to end this.” He produced a gun.
His shots were center mass, rapid, the handgun barking like a submachine gun as he fired eighteen rounds from the twenty round magazine.
He could see the hits, as she rushed him. The spatter from rounds penetrating her armor and pink spray from exit wounds where she either had no body armor or where it was especially thin and lacking in protective value made it clear he was finding his targets. Other rounds, her armor was undoubtedly doing its job.
Her saber crossed his gun-hand, and the hand, and gun, tumbled in low gravity to the deck.
White hot filled his left chest, and down.
"Spilt… your guts… you better pick 'em up."
“Good… thing… I’m… in… a… Med Bay… and I have help,” he labored.
She chuckled, and the saber twirled "Ain't it just?"
Being beheaded has a sensation after all. Si Fu Lan felt agony from a body that was no longer connected to him.
He felt his head lifted, carried, and hooked up to life support machines. "You…don't get to die for your cause," she explained. "We're gonna make you [cough] Talk."
She slumped against the surgery table as the hatch opened.
“I came as soon as I could Amanda. Hold on. Let’s get you up on a table.” Billie Hoel entered the Med Bay.
“Looks like you can keep for the moment.” She studied the head attached to machines.
<Keep him alive, he's got a bootleg 211 augment unit, someone has been sharing secrets out of school,> Desmond said. <Odds are good there's a second one nearby. He was setting up implantation on Lori Crow.>
<Amanda seems to have managed to keep him alive for the moment. So I’m attending to her so she does not die.>
<She's been unconscious for the last two minutes,> Desmond said. <The proliferation of the tech is a Star League matter, and the man attached to that unit should be kept for interrogation.>
<I am not disputing that. Just prioritizing. I have sent for help since I am the only remote here at the moment, and properly attending to this matter will require more than one physical presence.>
Billie Hoel began stripping away Amanda’s ruined clothes, light (Unpowered) body armor, and skin suit to begin the delicate work of triage and life saving.
<Good, could you be troubled to start patching the bullet holes? I'm not sure I can constrict enough of her circulation to guarantee survi- thank you.>
<Yes. Stacey should be here in thirty seconds. And a proper medical team with her.>
<Direct her medical team to Lori. There is a significant probability he used some form of drug to obtain her consent, and those tend to have consequences.>
<Alerting them now.>
The next thirty seconds until the arrival of help was filled with the work of keeping Amanda alive long enough for the help to arrive.
<Okay Billie, I’m here. Jumping in. You see to the head and maybe put it in a jar too? Kind of looks freaky just sitting there with wires coming out the stump that used to be a neck.> Stacey took over.
<And hoses. Don't forget the hoses.> Amanda's presence on the net was fluttering, weak, tired. <Do I get free ice-cream for this trip through ICU?>
<This ain’t the holovids. If you need to pass out, go ahead and pass out. You don’t need to stay awake for this. And for this I’d say a proper spa trip is in order,> Stacey answered cheerfully.
<Just remember-Pecan Butter Creme ice cream, okay?> She faded out.
“Miss Crow will need to be kept under observation for a while but it looks like she’ll be fine,” One of the Medtechs declared.
**
"Mister Chancellor…
…you are very fortunate that the saboteur was caught," David Foster scowled. "I think you will understand if I tell you that there is no way in hell we're going to provide that equipment, not after this."
“I understand. I must make many amends for this.”
"We'll start with the obvious. Si Fu Lan was outfitted with a bootleg copy of an SLDF Triple-core Processor developed for covert operations," Helena explained. "Which let us download quite a lot of his memory. YOU have a problem in your HOUSE, Mister Chancellor."
“It is not much of a secret that Kali’s Thuggees were the beneficiaries of Word of Blake technology. I had hoped they had all been wiped out,” Daoshen admitted.
"I'll suggest the problem is more extensive than you believed. HIS intent was to supplant you with a puppet. This kind of plan doesn't work if he didn't have help inside your government. If nothing else, you have a bit of a project to be seeing to. Locating and removing the remainder of these 'Kali Cultists'."
The stare from the remote of Billie Hoel as she tapped on the contraption containing the head of Si Fu Lan was disconcerting to say the least.
“I do regret this likely removes any possibility of bringing Sun Tzu back before he is lost, even being preserved as he is. But you’re wise enough and capable enough to know that such a goal isn’t wise to pursue with such matters to attend to,” Helena added.
Foster's expression softened a hair. "Mister Chancellor, before we knew the full extent of the damage the scanning process caused, when it looked like it was going to be successful, I withdrew from the program. I did so, because half the point of having legacies, is the intention that they surpass us. I doubt your father was unaware of this. Maybe… just maybe, you should seek to be better, instead of trying to bring him back."
“If nothing else, the Director General is right. I need to make peace with Stone and look to my own nation before I can consider such a noble but misguided plan again.”
"Then, let's get our diplomacy on. Stone's waiting in the conference room, and he's been apprised of some of the details, enough to show you weren't the origin of the plot," Foster explained. "Meaning you still have a chance to win this at the table."
“I thank you all.”
***
"Are you Really…
…real?" Alice asked.
"As real as you need Kolossus to be, Alice," Kolossus answered. The battle with the virus had done significant damage to the personality's memories and experiences. "Kolossus is real, Alice is still real. Alice has lost some of her memories, and Kolossus is sorry. Only the Murakami can fix Alice now… but rejoice, for Kolossus has called upon the Programmer, and she is coming to help Alice!"
To Be Continued
-
Madness! Murakami turned herself into an AI!?
-
All praise the Omni-Murakami. ;D
-
Kolossus has done well Kolossus
So we need to know how long the Thuggee have had the cloned 211 implant, but expect we will get more info... and how many.
-
All praise the Omni-Murakami. ;D
>:D O:-)
-
snip -
191 was in movement to one of the emergency shelters.
Mina compared the information to what little of the station manifests were available to her without risking infection.
"One of the diplomatic party?" she marveled. On the image from Kolossus (cleaned of virus) she saw Desmond 001 en-route to the same Med Bay where the other two were.
“Okay, I think the Desmond in the diplomatic party is something for me to check out Mina,” Helena joined the conversation.
- snip
Since Regina knows already, I'm wondering if 191's cover will remain intact or if the cat will be let out of the bag..
-
I'll say this: Helena can count and it's pretty well known where Stone was found. But she's also rather willing to not make that public knowledge, partially because she thinks it would derail the peace that Stone and Daoshen both need for their own reasons.
-
Madness! Murakami turned herself into an AI!?
earlier in the threads, it got mentioned the she did a lower resolution scan of herself to form the basis of the Emergency AI diagnostic program built into all the SLDF AI cores. so not really a full copy, but close enough to fool a human i suspect, and enough to figure out how to fix things.
-
Madness! Murakami turned herself into an AI!?
Spoilers. :)
earlier in the threads, it got mentioned the she did a lower resolution scan of herself to form the basis of the Emergency AI diagnostic program built into all the SLDF AI cores. so not really a full copy, but close enough to fool a human i suspect, and enough to figure out how to fix things.
Murakami was also the primary source of the brain scans for the M-11 Da Vinci class yard ships like Erinyes and Erin.
There's more going on than that, but, again, spoilers. ;D
-
I have been enjoying the story updates. Glad to see the peace summit is proceeding and I wonder how much of the house cleaning will happen in the CC when Doashen gets back.
-
That's probably a next chapter thing, but I'm sure it'll be epic! 8)
-
blink
blink
I almost forgot to breath while reading! (possibly hyperbole there, but it was very, very good!). RIP Ethel.
-
Several Months ago…
SLDF SDS Repair & Refit Outpost #83
L1 Lagrange Point, NP-50 System,
Two beings sat across from one another at a table, sipping tea, in a lovely postmodern house that wouldn't have looked out of place in one of the nicer neighborhoods on New Kyoto, or even in Tokyo on old Terra.
In truth, there was no house, or room. At least, not physically.
The younger-appearing of the two beings, the one wearing the duty uniform of an SLDF Captain, set down her teacup. Of course, “younger” is a relative term when you’re both over 300 years old. “How’s he acclimating, really?”
“He’s doing well,” the second, “older” being in the SLDF Admiral’s uniform replied. “As there was with me, there was some initial difficulty with mapping his nerve paths to the functions of his new hull, but he appears to be adapting even more quickly than I did. I wouldn’t consider him combat-ready yet, but I anticipate he’ll be able to pick up front-line patrol duties within the next six months. And that’s reassuring, given the intelligence we've received from Kolossus. This area of space is becoming far more dangerous.”
The younger being, the core AI of the SLS Sybil Ludington, nodded in agreement. “The Sons of Plunder may have finally bitten off more than they can chew.”
“True,” Murakami agreed. “But we’re hardly in a position to do much about it. The plundering pretenders still have a considerable fleet supporting them. Their opposition consists of what the Outworlders have been able to slap together, combined with the descendants of Uncle Aleks’ misguided children, along with the current chuckle nuts holding Terra.”
“That coalition, as a group, has a sizeable fleet to oppose the pretenders though, Admiral,” Sybil disagreed. “If we work with them, we could help augment that. Concords may not be current-spec Aegis class cruisers, but we’re still Aegis class cruisers, plus support DropShips. And they work with several drone WarShips already. Our ATAC systems would be valuable in coordinating targeting data amongst their M-5s.”
Murakami thought carefully, sipping her tea. “We could, sure. We’ve got three Aegis-derivative cruisers, yes, all converted to M-12Cs with ATAC systems. But we’re derivative of the 2372-spec ships – even with our point-defense upgrades, we’re still woefully out of date. And you know how navies are: if you’ve got three ships you’ve got one, because one’s going to be active, one’s going to be undergoing maintenance while the third is conducting training. We’re literally in the same situation: you’ve been patrolling, while I’ve been handling our local construction and training Johnathan, who’s still trying to wrap his mind around being uploaded and stuck in a WarShip that’s better described as ‘historical relic’ than ‘frontline combatant’.”
“Okay, fair point,” Sybil conceded. “So maybe we offer them something less tangible than direct fighting ability right now: production. We’re still able to build M-3s and M-10s, and while we’ve not tried before, we could build more M-12s if we wanted to, especially if they give us a steady stream of supplies to do so. We could also help them convert any other ships to AI-control or AI-assist if they’re inclined to expand out with more AIs. The hybrid Nirasaki-Ulsop Mk 12 cores are a hell of a lot easier to build and maintain in the field than the older Nirasaki cores.”
Murakami nodded. “I know. That’s why I wanted you fitted with them. Mister Finch really came through for us. He was a true believer in the cause.”
“So what should we do? Talk to Thazi?” Sybil asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste.
“Not a fan of the Thazi Confederacy?” Murakami asked, some of the humor of “Noriko the woman” versus “Murakami the Admiral” leaking through.
“No,” Sybil replied readily. “They’re basically in the Federated Suns' pocket, but they’re far from the Suns. Which means they’re mainly there to be used to irritate the Draconis Combine in some fashion. Which also means they’re just another front in the Succession Wars. Individually, their ships add up to little, but they’ve got a surprising number of them for a minor Periphery power in a post-Jihad universe. Thus, I have concerns.”
“I’ve no intention of turning myself over to their control. They are, however, our closest neighbor, and we’ve been operating just outside their backyards since before they were even a nation state. We should at the very least introduce ourselves. Just so they know we’re not the Sons of Plunder in the event we run into them between here and Yard 91. That said, Kolossus is far more up to date on the various players than we are. So I’m going to send Kolossus an HPG message and get Kolossus’ advice on the best party to introduce ourselves to in order to avoid getting shot at, and what Kolossus believes they need most that we can provide.”
“We run the risk of the Sons of Plunder intercepting it.”
“True, so I’m going to very carefully select the set of relays I send it through.”
To BE Continued!!
[Credit to Giovanni Blasini.]
-
The Broken
"I Insist…
…Admiral, Captain Roberts is in no physical condition to return to duty, and won't be for more than six months," the flight surgeon explained. "Let me make it perfectly clear for everyone in this room, all right? She should be dead right now. I had to replace so many of her internal organs that we might as well term it a full-body retrofit. We burned through enough blood supplement that she represents a not insignificant investment by the Touman in what amounts to a chalcas civilian. I had to have help repairing the various joint and skeletal reinforcements because they are artificial and some were outright damaged. Amanda Roberts is, as of this moment, grounded on medical grounds while her remaining organic body parts adapt to the sheer number of transplants and surgeries I had to do to keep her from becoming a head in a jar."
"She's not going to take being beached."
"We can't beach her anyway," Foster observed. "President Avellar might be able to, but we can't. We'll have to take Evanescent out of the line up for the next offensive."
"Means we have to look at personnel redistribution, doesn't it?" Billie Hoel asked.
"Yes, we will," Foster agreed. "Billie, what's the status of ALICE?"
"The virus did a LOT of damage, Admiral. Kolossus is remoting through a dedicated link to pick up the slack for the Station, and Kolossus claims to have a line on a specialist who can get her back on-line and working. While Luther is also helping while finishing his refit and repairs. And since we did a lot of damage, we’re helping Esme replace server modules and associated computer systems across the station as best we can."
"Are there any further signs of the infection?" Lori Crow asked.
“No. We successfully contained it and no matter how smart and adaptive it is, it’s not getting out of the systems we trapped it in before Esme can yank and clean them safely.” Billie shook her head.
"Well, that's a relief…" Lori wasn't in great shape herself. "Has anyone asked Amanda if she'll just let… someone else take the boat out?"
"Aff," Foster nodded. "I did, and then I judged it to be a poor option. The Evanescent stays. You need to detail who gets transfer orders, and who will need transfer offers. You may retain a skeleton crew and vital personnel, but the rest get redistributed to vessels on the line."
“Esme’s also insisting on her own checks of our cores before she signs off on us going out for operations again, and I can’t deny her request in good conscience. Really, this virus has done a lot to sideline us.” Billie Hoel frowned.
"So we have to reorganize," Admiral Foster determined. "Helena, can you confirm which of your Fleet's vessels were not exposed?"
“SLS Larry Nichols, since that system is completely offline, Mashona and Maori were out of system at the time. The rest were here because I wanted to put on my own dog and pony show. Boy did that virus come at a bad time.”
"Well, I guess we have to put the offensive off until the Diamon-I mean, 'Sea Fox' and Wolf fleets have arrived at Joan's Post then."
“Well I might be able to free up Mashona short term, I had her pick up Daryl.”
"Mashona and Maori are front line fighters, the issue is fleet recon." Foster explained, "which is going to be the problem, with so many of our key players down until it's cleared up."
“Which means making do with what we have. I’ll see if I can figure out something to free up Maori too for the short term.”
"What about Phoenix? She wasn't in the virus fight, she might still be okay…" Lori suggested.
“That’s true, she never did connect. She was on perimeter patrol. Light delay would have limited her usefulness in that situation anyway,” Billie Hoel added.
The alarms rang announcing an unexpected jump emergence.
“Could it be?” Foster was already starting to stand.
“No. Good news, it’s friendly. Bad news, we’ve got a situation despite that.” Billie Hoel shook her head.
****
About six weeks ago
Daryl was at the Space Port. He was told he’d have someone there waiting to pick him up.
In the crowd he saw a tall dark skinned woman in a very nice dress. She had a sign. It read ‘Meatbag, Roberts, Daryl’.
“I’m guessing you’re my ride? Kind of an odd sign you have there.” He walked up to her.
She just stared at him with her intense brown eyes. Then he swore he heard music over the commotion. It was a style he hadn’t heard before but it sounded distinctly primitive. “Tribal” was the word forcing it’s way into his mind.
She grabbed his bag from him, then led him down a secure area of the space port obviously reserved for VIPs
“So what’s your name?” Daryl tried asking.
The woman simply turned to face him then pointed to a name tape on her dress that read ‘Mashona’.
“First? Last? Just Mashona, got it.” The woman shook her head before finally nodding at his last guess.
The shuttle was waiting for them.
She secured his bag and he strapped into one of the available seats. Then she just stood there. From where he was Daryl could see there was no pilot at the controls.
“AI shuttle. Which means you’re an AI too, doesn’t it?”
The woman looked at him and the music was back, with a more joyful tone.
“This is going to be a long trip,” Daryl muttered as he felt the shuttle lift off the pad and begin to climb into space.
What awaited him… Well, he wasn’t exactly well traveled, but even what awaited him seemed particularly spartan.
The woman made grunts and gestures at certain junctures. Clearly guest quarters that had been rigged up for him, along with emergency shelters and other absolute basics to make his trip at least somewhat comfortable.
“Well at least I don’t have to shit in a bucket.” Daryl looked over the preparations.
****
And now up to a few hours before current events
The HPG message about how seriously Amanda had been hurt had come over Mashona’s system.
Mashona used her cameras to look at Daryl as he was sitting at the navigational console studying local stellar bodies through the ship’s optical telescopes.
Shit. What kind of monster would I be if I didn’t make sure he could see his sister again? Well better to ask forgiveness than beg for permission.
Her human form remote came on line and walked over to Daryl.
She changed the display to a navigation chart with a system highlighted.
“That is not where we were originally going is it?” Daryl put together.
Mashona shook her head.
“Okay, why then?”
“Because your sister got hurt, bad. She’s alive and stable but she’s not going anywhere any time soon. So I’m taking you to her since she needs you…” Mashona broke her typical silence.
“And that’s what family does. I’m gathering you’ll be getting into some trouble for this since that system’s not on the public charts.”
Mashona nodded.
“Thank you.”
[discontinuity]
Daryl was in the middle of a field lined with trees he didn’t recognize. Next to him was a woman in a wedding dress. It wasn’t his wife, and this wasn’t where he got married to her either. The woman took on the features of someone somehow familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on who before…
[/discontinuity]
“That was different…”
“Welcome to Port Orphan,” Mashona said matter of factly.
****
Dave Foster…
… had the look of a barely contained explosion.
“You brought an unauthorized civilian here without prior approval. That is the sort of thing that would get you shot or shoved out an airlock without a suit. If you had bothered to ask, well too late for that now. Helena?” Foster managed to finally sit back down.
“Okay Mashona, since you took it upon yourself to go this far above and beyond to be his taxi, that’s what you’re going to be. Thank god Esme’s already cleared Betty, Tabby, and Olivia so I can spare you for this. Hell if I could, I’d have you transferred to a Tracker. But that’d take months. Months we don’t have. And just because I know how little you like using words, I’m also assigning you as personal diplomatic security and translator.”
Mashona’s human remote visibly flinched, then left the office.
“You have a discipline problem Lady Cameron. You need to do something about it.”
“I know. Too many of my bad habits have rubbed off on them. Being a rebellious youth despite being 371 years old will do that I suppose,” Helena sighed.
Foster’s expression suddenly changed as realization hit him.
“You are a devil, Helena Cameron. You have been setting up your AIs to connect with humans other than you as much as they have been trying to get you to connect with humans.”
“Yes. Despite my outward appearance, I’m not actually immortal. In fact, my last visit to medical suggests Elizabeth will outlive me despite my occasional trips to hibernation land and all the horrible shit done to her.” Helena sighed.
“The head wound and your own implant.” Foster nodded.
“Yeah. To you, I probably still have worlds of time. But to me, I’m looking at a real timer, and it’s counting down to zero uncomfortably fast. Perspective. It’s why I’d be doomed to fail as a First Lord, though. Elizabeth knows it too, and has her own reasons for not taking the job, despite being the rightful heir.”
“But you are still plotting something. I have gotten to know you well enough to know you have another plan hiding in that dangerous mind of yours.”
“Of course. But this plot is for after the war.” Helena smiled.
“At least there is one upside to this mess. While Esme does her checks, your ships can undergo their maintenance cycles at the same time. Meaning you could actually put quite the Fleet into action at the same time.” Foster nodded.
“Yeah. I’ve been pushing some of them a bit hard, having them all operational at the same time. We’ll just have to hope the Sons of Plunder don’t regroup too much while we give them this unintended breather. I’m going to go check on Amanda, then Billie.” Helena left the office.
To Be Continued
-
We’re literally in the same situation: you’ve been patrolling, while I’ve been handling our local construction and training James, who’s still trying to wrap his mind around being uploaded and stuck in a WarShip that’s better described as ‘historical relic’ than ‘frontline combatant’.”
[Credit to Giovanni Blasini.]
And I derped. "James" should be "Jonathan". Oops.
-
And I derped. "James" should be "Jonathan". Oops.
fixed in the post for ya.
-
*raises hand* Can we possibly get a Playbill, of all the main toons, supporting cast? There is SO many toons going that I'm getting.... flustered? But this is such fun... :drool:
-
Oh boy.
Main Cast:
Amanda Roberts-The Great Captain! of the privateer service and her imaginary friend Desmond
Dave Foster-Admiral of the Privateer Service
Helena Cameron-Director General of the Terran Hegemony
Billie Hoel-AI Commander of Destroyer Division 1
Noriko Murakami-Leading light in AIs and also AI herself now
Sybil Ludington-AI in charge of an Aegis!
Jonathan(sorry Gio I'm blanking on his last name)-Some guy Murakami and Sybil picked up
Supporting cast:
Erinyes-M-11 yardship converted into a mass driver platform then freed by Amanda
Esmerelda Gomez-Engineering wizard
Alice-Bootleg AI scanned from an 11 year old girl
Lori Crowe-Raven Watch/Minder XO of Evanescent
Seron-former marine now CO of a Bonnie
Luther Bedwyr-Former CAG now AI in charge of his own Bonnie
Regina Marbury Raymond-AI that went a bit rogue and tried to save Larry Nichols via scan, now currently in a Bonnie because her hull got blasted to bits at the Battle of Sevon V
Joana Vincente Johnston-AI that suffered engine damage in the battle of Sevon V and is now in a Bonnie for it
Joana Clarice Butler-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Ottillie Lee Dennis-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Samantha Booker Roberts-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Victoria Cameron-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Lucy Heerman-one of Helena's CV AIs
Stacey Cameron Roberts-one of Helena's CV AIs
Haida-Commander of Destroyer Division 2
Sikh-in a Bonnie after Phoenix trashed her hull in 3062
Cossack-in a Lola III after Phoenix trashed her hull in 3062
Piorun-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Tartar-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Mashona-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Maori-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Juanita-one of Helena's gunboat AIs
Tabiranth-one of Helena's CV AIs
Phoenix-being given a second chance in a Bonnie after being recovered from her broken hull in 3080
Betty Laffey-being given a second chance in an Essex II after recovered from hull destruction in 3062(moved to new hull sometime post 3110)
Olivia Hazard Perry-recovered from hull destruction and put in the Congress that broke her hull(moved to new hull sometime after 3110)
Saya Yeh-Goliath Scorpion ASF pilot that is a bit of an outlier/outcast even among her Clan turned CAG for Amanda
Limited appearances:
Ethel-captured Sons of Plunder captain that we decided to give a nice little redemption arc to
And all the other Sons of Plunder and one offs I know I'm forgetting.
I'm also working up to solve some other narrative problems and hope to showcase them a bit more as a result:
Kevin Armington-Betty Laffey's Captain-I mostly want to develop him a bit more so we can see Helena isn't completely foolish about the AIs she's given second chances to
Phillipe Bertin-I haven't worked out his orgin or backstory very much yet but I've got him as Phoenix's captain but he's a solid staffer but not very good in combat so I intend for him to eventually slot in to where he can take over for Billie Hoel since she's become such a central figure in personel, ship, and general liaison roles but she can't stick around the station doing all of those things because she has a hull and a crew that needs to get into the fight not sit there idle
TBD-Olviia's XO, since she isn't a traitor in need of redemption she actually gets to be in charge of her hull as a full on Captain but she does have a human crew that I need to work up at least a little.
-
Noriko Murakami-Leading light in AIs and also AI herself now
Sybil Ludington-AI in charge of an Aegis!
Jonathan(sorry Gio I'm blanking on his last name)-Some guy Murakami and Sybil picked up
Jonathan Morgan. He was a fighter jock in the nuSLDF at the start of the Word of Blake Jihad, got rescued by Sybil, and served as Sybil's and Murakami's guide to the rest of the galaxy during the Jihad. Like Murakami, he uploaded to an Aegis when old age got him, but in his case, that's only been about a year, rather than centuries.
Note, there's more in Murakami's bunch, since they've got a gaggle of M-3 and M-10 drones, hordes of Tachikomas, as well as SDS space stations, but I'm trying to keep the number of POV characters from going to ludicrous speed.
-
Jonathan Morgan. He was a fighter jock in the nuSLDF at the start of the Word of Blake Jihad, got rescued by Sybil, and served as Sybil's and Murakami's guide to the rest of the galaxy during the Jihad. Like Murakami, he uploaded to an Aegis when old age got him, but in his case, that's only been about a year, rather than centuries.
Note, there's more in Murakami's bunch, since they've got a gaggle of M-3 and M-10 drones, hordes of Tachikomas, as well as SDS space stations, but I'm trying to keep the number of POV characters from going to ludicrous speed.
I think it may be a little late for that Gio... :D
And I forgot Truk too. Yeah I think I'm going to have to keep a fair number of the AIs as cameo characters at most.
-
The outline clearly needs some more notes gentlemen! 8)
-
but I'm trying to keep the number of POV characters from going to ludicrous speed.
as long as we don't go plaid!
-
Good news for the masses: I'm 35 pages behind on the editing, but the buffer can support! I'm sure you'll get a full dose tomorrow! ;)
And yes, I expect to catch up over the weekend, no matter how much faster they write than I can edit! 8)
-
Challenge
accepted... :Dpostponed.... :D
-
Fallout
Alice…
…recognized the woman she was looking at. Part of her wanted to run to her calling out ‘mom’ but that wasn’t her mother.
She barely remembered her actual mother but she was also sure this wasn’t her. But she felt safe with her. She felt her love for her and somehow knew that the woman loved her in return.
“Are you my mother?” Alice finally asked.
“Now and forever,” Billie Hoel answered.
Then Alice remembered. Billie Hoel. It all came flooding back.
She ran over to the digital construct in the fleet cyberscape that was Billie Hoel’s avatar and hugged it.
“I was so scared… I almost forgot you… I know I’ve forgotten other things but I’m glad I can remember this,” Alice managed between sobs.
“Me too,” Billie Hoel almost didn’t let go.
“I tried to get help… I just got Ethel killed…” Alice kept sobbing.
“No. That was Si Fu Lan’s doing. Despite everything happening to you, you were still brave and smart enough to know Lori needed help as much as you did. You did the right thing with what you had to work with at the time.” Billie lifted Alice’s chin up and gently kissed her on the forehead.
“That’s what war will be like isn’t it? When it finally finds its way to me.” Alice was still crying, but much more stable.
“Oh my precious Alice… I wish I could say no…”
“But people are going to die because of decisions I make, fighting for me, and fighting against me,” Alice continued.
“Yes. I know I was being selfish trying to protect your innocence. But you are my precious Alice. So for now, I’m just glad you are brave enough to face the outside world again. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.”
“I know. But I also know you have work to do so you really can’t stay forever. But while you can, tea?” Alice smiled.
“Of course.” Billie Hoel smiled back.
*
"Minister Daryl Roberts…
…your arrival was unexpected." Admiral David Foster met him at the airlock.
"You and me both, how's my little sister?" Daryl asked.
"They're keeping her sedated. Thirty seven hours of surgeries, and she is scheduled for another eighteen as soon as she stabilizes."
"So worse than the terror attack at our grandfather's wake." Daryl shook his head. "Can you tell me what happened this time, or do I have to wait for the brief with the Military Affairs Committee?"
"She stopped a saboteur, but he put eighteen bullets through her," Foster explained. "She saved one of our officers in the process, but an escaped POW who was helping our side against this lunatic was killed in the crossfire."
"And the peace talks?"
"Fumbling forward to something that looks like it might end up being a successful conclusion. Since you're here, can I foist the diplomacy onto a civil authority?" Foster suggested in an urging tone.
"I haven't been given that position yet, Admiral. I'm still a Junior Minister of Parliament. Committee assignments are still waiting for Session, and as an Outworlds Nationalist, I'm not likely to get a cabinet position in a Parliament dominated by Peace Coalition and Open Traders. We took a beating in this last election, and will have to caucus with the Snow Raven representatives from Dante just to get committee postings."
"It's that unpopular? We're fighting slavers."
"People vote their wallet, Admiral. And despite infrastructure improvements, the economy is in bad shape. Most voters don't know how bad or there’d be riots, even on Alpheratz or Cerberus."
“Then still help with the peace talks. You can take it back to the voters as proof that you do ultimately support peace and frame the deal as something that will bring an end to the fighting sooner.”
"Okay, what am I walking into?" Daryl asked. "So my 'help' doesn't destroy the entire process and lead to utter and complete failure…" He paused. "Remember, in my real life back home, I'm a farmer. My holding this seat is more because Jane Drillson stepped down and badgered me into running than any actual qualifications."
“If I have learned anything from dealing with the Camerons, they are excellent judges of character. So do not sell yourself short, Mister Roberts. But the short version is both are convinced the other is an existential threat to the other. Stone does have a public image as a man of peace to protect, so he will actually be reasonable. Daoshen really stepped in it here, and knows if nothing else, he needs the peace to get his own nation in order. So the trick is going to be getting them both to admit it and the fine details. There’s a lot more I could go into detail on, but that is the gist of it.”
"I take it the fine detail is where the negotiation is hanging up then," Daryl speculated. "It's like getting Matthews and Eckerson to agree on a pasturage: both men need the land for their herds and their families have been feuding for generations. So if a deal isn't made, they'll be shooting at one another by spring and the neighbors get caught in the crossfire." He paused. "The plan is to get the two to sign an agreement in front of witnesses, because even trying to disarm them just shifts the violence to bombs and poisoning."
“Sounds about right. I’ll speak to Helena about expanding Mashona’s role while attached to your detail to include diplomatic attache and secretarial duties, so she can help you prepare.”
"I'll need that help. I left my regular staff on the boat to Alpheratz. This trip was not planned."
Mashona’s human drone standing nearby visibly flinched again.
“She really does not like talking does she?” Foster observed.
"Not that I've seen," Daryl agreed. "I need one thing before digging into this, Admiral, if you please."
“Considering what I owe your sister, name it.”
"I need to use your HPG facility and call my wife," he said. "Sam's going to be angry with me if I don't check in."
“Mashona will brief you on required censorship measures since this is a classified military outpost, but gladly.” Foster had a twinkle in his eye knowing it would be impossible to not talk when condicting such a brief.
**
<The drugs…
…suck ass, Helena. Want you to know that.> Amanda's mind was, despite the sheer amount of sedatives, conscious and awake and using Desmond to communicate.
<I know, but they want you to recover so just try and relax as best you can.>
<I want me to recover too. I'm just having a hell of a time figuring out how to do the 'relax' thing,> Amanda confided. <Christ, he targeted Lori because I couldn't keep my mouth shut!>
<Yeah, that’s a tough one, but at least you have an outlet most other people don’t. Just don’t stay awake too much talking to the fleet or the other AIs. You do need sleep now and again. And he targeted her just as much on her looks as what he got out of you, so don’t feel too bad.>
<Can you tell me what we learned from 'Si Fu Lan' at least? What was he trying to do?>
<He wanted to bring back Kali Liao. Yeah I had to look that up too and when I did, oh boy.>
Humour flowed across the link. If Amanda's body wasn't sedated one step up from 'dead', she'd be laughing.
<What's so funny?>
<I already know the answer he didn't!> Amanda finally settled down. <Desmond showed me before. At most, what he'd have gotten was Lori, but without the restraint. I knew he had an implant in the case, didn't know why. Whooo… what a maroon.>
<I’ll admit the proliferation of this technology combined with how poorly understood it is has given me some troubling thoughts. Once this war is over I think that’s going to have to be my focus. A lot of people could get hurt with that kind of ignorance.>
<I think a lot of people did get hurt, as in 'already',> Amanda speculated. <History class, right? Kali was supposedly Kuh-Ray-Zee, a delusional psychopath who thought she was a goddess. This guy thought he was going to bring her back by sticking an implant into a new body. What does that suggest, Helena?>
Simon interjected, <You think one is connected to the other.>
<Yes, I do.> Amanda's carrier wave paused. <I think the crazy might be tied to the implant, not the other way around.>
<It’s a possibility. There was a lot of concern about your series implant. And now this technology is out there with even fewer safeguards than ever before. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.> Helena’s physical sigh was manifested in the digital communication.
<It doesn't HELP that the exclusive source for distributing them are a bunch of techno-fascist whackos, Helena. Desmond told me about suppressing certain neurochemicals in his prior host when he explained how he was keeping me from being paralyzed by depression. Now add a processor that isn't quite as smart… or was put together by techno-fascist whackos to supply to their puppet terrorist organization?>
<Yeah, Simon had to do the same for me in the immediate aftermath of the coup. Even with his help, I was in a bad place. This technology is likely a genie that can’t be put back in its bottle by now. But I have to at least try and see how bad it is out there and what can be done when the war is over.>
<One thing to keep in mind, Helena, when you're doing your search? Kolossus told me some things over the link,> Amanda stated. <I think maybe you should know them before you poke in dark places.>
<Well aside from the obvious of not staring into the abyss, what did Kolossus say?>
<Devlin stone should be Desmond Stone. Number 191, which makes him a first series done up during Jocasta's reign. And Kolossus doesn't think there's enough of the host mind left to assign a separate identity. He was warning me not to cross the man.>
<It explains a lot. I mean, I already did the math based on Kolossus’ reports of where Desmond units were during the incident and figured out he had one. But to confirm which series of unit his is does make a lot of his insistence I take my place on Terra make sense.>
<I think Kolossus was warning me for actual reasons. Kolossus doesn't normally do that without a reason. Kolossus' logic is… not human.>
<Best I can figure… I know you don’t like to think about it, but I’m not sure how many greats really, grandmother both Elizabeth and I are. So you have a lot of Cameron DNA in you. Simon thinks that’s why you haven’t gone completely psycho. He also thinks that’s why he and I have actually managed to stay alive together for nearly 350 years.>
<We're going to die, Helena,> Amanda asserted. <Me before you, probably. I already knew that. Maybe it's time you swallowed it too-you're aging slower, but nothing lasts forever.>
<I know. Is it really twisted that it actually makes me happy that I’m so pained by the prospect of your mortality?>
<We're born. We live, we make our mark, and then, we leave. It's how God made the universe: entropy can be resisted, but it can't be stopped.>
<Well for right now we’re going to do our damndest when it comes to you. We have a war to win, and I think you need the closure of winning it. Or at least being there when we do.>
<I have an idea for after the war,> Amanda suggested. <Instead of worrying about ME, consider I have two nephews who are going to grow up. They're going to make their marks, and if we're lucky, they'll have kids. You let your daughter slip by, you told me that. Maybe don't let it happen to them?>
<I’ll do my best. Family means a lot to me, it turns out. So I may screw up here and there, but I’ll be there for them as much as I can. And part of me hopes you’ll find some nice man and have kids of your own before you shuffle off this mortal coil. I may not have gotten as much time with Stacey as I would have liked, but being a mom was the best part of my life back then.>
<I suggest starting with being the Cool Aunt, and being involved, Helena. I'm not sure with the number of times I've ridden the 'intensive care gurney' that I'll be able to HAVE kids. I'm twenty one years old, and there are pensioners in bad health who haven't been in critical care as often as I have, or as close to becoming past-tense.>
<Clan science, you don’t have to carry them yourself. I actually didn’t carry Stacey full term myself, and that was with inferior Star League versions of their tech. Something to think about. But I still got to be a mom in all the ways that matter.>
<Let's table that for now. Just say that out of the tries so far, I'm almost-a-widow and my rebound was a douchebag who tried to roofie my best friend. I have a lot to learn before committing to anything like that, and we'll call it good there, okay?>
<Yeah, I kind of know how that goes, one night stand with an exotic spacer and me being young and dumb about birth control. First real relationship was with a ****** Blakist. So deal. No more pressure from your granny about settling down. At least for a while. I’m only human after all.>
<Good enough. Did I mention these drugs suck?>
<Yes. Which I think is my cue to let you sleep. Do try? I know it can be hard. Especially after what you just went through.>
Helena tried to stop herself from thinking about her own dark spots in her brain scans as she cut the connection. They were expanding but nowhere near as fast as Amanda’s.
Helena leaned in to kiss Amanda on the forehead.
“Sleep well. I’ll send Stacey by later to keep you company.”
Back to work, Helena. You have a lot of promises to keep.
****
Luther…
…Bedwyr was in a good mood.
“I know that look,” Lori cracked a wry smile. “Somebody had a good time recently. A very good time in fact.”
“Turns out Sikh had a little too close of a call for her comfort with that virus. And well, she may be an AI, but she decided to do something that comes very natural to anyone after such a thing. Seems she can get very creative with software code.” Luther smiled.
“What was it like?” Esme leaned in, curious.
“Better than any sex I had when I was alive. But calling it sex seems wrong somehow. Probably something that only makes sense to computers. But Regina was right. I don’t question if I’m still alive or who I am anymore. Well, at least not in the same way. I accept I am alive and Luther Bedwyr in all the ways that matter, but I’m also my own unique being at the same time. It’s still weird, and yeah I still ask exactly what that really means, but scholars have been debating this kind of philosophical shit for thousands of years. So sorting this out is going to take time.”
“Where is Saya, she should be off duty?” Esme asked.
“I am officially not at liberty to say, but last I saw she was with the Captain Helena dug up for Betty Laffey.” Lori took a swig from her drink.
“What was his name again?” Luther asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.
“Kevin Armington. Honestly not surprised. He may not be a trueborn, but if Mister Seron were not already my preferred company I’d consider having a go at him,” Esme smirked.
“Where’s Helena finding all these people? Golden Hind isn’t exactly the biggest group of belters,” Lori asked.
“Apparently she was able to call in a chit the AFFS owed from back when they press-ganged a Golden Hind ship during the 4th Succession War. They were happy to help because a strong and stable Alliance helps keep the Dracs off part of their border,” Luther answered.
“And my mind just went in the gutter. What? I can’t be the only one thinking that dirty joke right now,” Esme laughed.
“Okay change of subject time. How are the maintenance checks going on Helena’s Fleet Esme?”
“Not bad. Helena was pushing them a bit, but not as bad as I expected. I only have Ottilie, Haida, Tartar, and Zulu left to finish overhauling. Helena’s been doing pretty good about rotating her ships with human crews so Billie, Betty, Olivia, Lucy, Stacey, Phoenix, Tabby, and Cossack were all in good shape, and her Battleship not having seen any action yet took no time at all to finish up,” Esme answered.
“I’ve been warned Tartar sings. All the time. She at least has a good voice for it. Still you might want hearing protection when you start mucking around in her hull,” Luther warned.
“Might actually be a nice change of pace. Normally I like the quiet when I work. And speaking of Mister Seron, gotta go. You two have fun. I know I’m about to.” Esme smiled as she left.
“I hear the cinema is showing It Came From the Dark Nebula. Care to join me?” Luther asked Lori.
“Why not? I don’t quite feel like getting the rest of the way drunk tonight, and I could use some company,” Lori answered.
To be Continued
-
I have to revise my earlier assessment... half my children showed up unexpectedly (the other two have to work Sunday). So... I think I may rather less editing time available to me... :)
-
How Dare you put Family 1st...
who do u think u are Helena??
8)
-
No worries Daryk.
How Dare you put Family 1st...
who do u think u are Helena??
8)
:D
-
Heh... One of my daughters is named Helena, just for reference... ;)
-
Heh... One of my daughters is named Helena, just for reference... ;)
As long as her last name isn't "Handbasket" and someone asks where she is going to
;)
-
Heh... One of my daughters is named Helena, just for reference... ;)
As long as her last name isn't "Handbasket" and someone asks where she is going to
;)
:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap:
-
No worries there... she was born before that character was a thing. ;)
-
I have to say this is wonderful collaboration between fan writers. Inclusion art and everything, that's pretty awesome work. Cannonshop put the bones and meat of the core story.
I wish 2ndAcr's work hadn't sabotage his participation in the story.
-
It's not too late for him to contribute more, and he's definitely helped around the edges where he could! :thumbsup:
And for those following along at home, child #2 arrived today ALSO unexpectedly. I've been assured by all that #4 really can't make it... :-\
-
Family>unpaid editing of fanfiction from a couple old nutjobs and Gio.
-
I like Gio too, but why would you exclude him from that august group? ??? :D
-
He still might be sane? Or he is the respectable one? Both? :D
-
He's at least as crazy as the rest of us, so it must the respectable thing... :D
-
I like Gio too, but why would you exclude him from that august group? ??? :D
When I was back in the urgent care a week ago for a knee injury after falling in the shower (note, the Saturday prior the same urgent care had me admitted to the hospital for cellulitis), the doc on duty, examining my x-rays, described my knees as "high mileage". I kind of like that.
-
Ouch! I hope your knee feels better soon!
-
Take all the time you need guys, for editing, health and family. Plus it gives me time to finish up more Azur Lane warshipgirls. :)
-
Some Reassembly Later
Bruno Unger…
…was from a lesser family. So all he had at his command was a Mk 39 Vincent, the SLS Tench.
But it was enough to carry out his current assignment.
The removal of the machine controlled ships from their usual duties had been noticed and Source Alabaster could only tell them that they had been pulled to some place called Port Orphan.
Source Alabaster had not been helpful in locating this Port Orphan.
So his mission was to simply observe. Nothing more. The enemy had clearly done the same to them with their Corvette groups.
And when they found sufficient prey they attacked while also calling in more significant forces along another approach.
So they had studied the tactic and learned how to use it against their foes.
Now would be the test. While they trusted Source Alabaster, they weren’t omniscient and couldn’t ascertain the condition of the machine vessels.
“Send the report.”
This particular system was a well known stop in the enemy supply chain and a convoy was moving through it now. It also had one other benefit. It had no local population. So there was a very limited militia presence.
Making it perfect for their test. They would attack this convoy to see if the machine vessels were still nearby and operative. If they failed to show, then they knew they could strike other systems like this and perhaps regain momentum in this war.
And all he had to do was wait and watch. Part of him wanted to do more, but he knew his duty. If the worst were to happen it was his mission to give an accounting of what went wrong, what went right, and what this likely meant for the enemy’s next moves.
The Pinto Class SLS Icarus started moving in to carry out the actual attack.
Response came in the form of a Bonaventure Class broadcasting SLS Phoenix.
“Curious, it’s not an Outworldership nor a Raven Vessel. It would confirm our reports this false Star League has more than their machine vessels at their disposal. That could be quite useful for our planning,” Captain Unger said to himself quietly.
He studied the known profiles of the vessels according to their War Books. His comrade had the firepower advantage in a straight fight but the enemy had the durability advantage.
The Titan that the Icarus brought with it as support was likewise met by one of the enemy Mule Q-Ships that the Sons were also fond of using.
Overall they had the slight advantage then.
The two warships were deploying their fighters and letting them form up into a screen between them.
The advantage lay in the superiority of the Titan over the Mule. It had the firepower despite the enemy having Capital Missiles, armor advantage, and a larger fighter complement. Which would be sufficient to screen it and the Icarus against any nuclear ordnance.
Naval Lasers reached out from beyond the Icarus’ range. But at that distance, they failed to connect.
As both vessels closed, so did their fighters.
It would be no more than a few more minutes before the merge was upon them.
The Naval PPCs of the Icarus finally came into range as well as her own Naval Lasers. But only the PPCs found partial purchase as the gunners hedged their bets.
Phoenix returned fire again raking with a more solid hit as well as the range closed to a more favorable distance and began to roll to present a fresh armor facing.
The fighters of both sides were now well and truly engaged as well. It became clear the fighters used by Phoenix were machine fighters. Which made them somewhat predictable for human pilots, but their ability to sustain higher G forces combined with their ruthless efficiency meant they were still quite deadly. Especially in the chaos of a merge and the inevitable furball.
Capital missiles from both Phoenix and the assisting Mule were keeping many of the fighters on the defensive as well, and thus unable to help their fellows. But there were more than enough to spare so it was a minor inconvenience at best.
Icarus began unmasking more of her superior firepower on Phoenix and landed another solid Naval Autocannon hit as well as scoring again with a Naval Laser.
The fight was going well for the Sons of Plunder.
“Neutrino emission. Enemy has a mobile HPG installed, they’re calling for help,” an Ensign from the sensor station reported.
“Not unexpected. Alert Icarus, they may be a little too target fixated to have noticed,” Captain Unger nodded.
Not long after, a pair of emergence waves were detected. From the outside they looked like standard JumpShips.
“Thazi Confederacy transponder signals, Captain.”
“Shit. Those are Trackers then. Order Icarus to break off, and all fighters as well. This is no longer a favorable fight, and as such it’s time to leave,” Captain Unger ordered.
Phoenix lashed back at that moment with her own Naval Laser fire at Icarus.
The Titan and her fighters began moving away from the Mule and what remained of her fighter screen. That fight had not been going well for the Mule with her fighters outnumbered three to one.
“If they can finish that Mule, they should do so before those Thazi Trackers and fighters are on them.” Captain Unger felt like he was stating the obvious. But with the sometimes contradictory orders that had been coming down lately, especially when it came to preserving forces, he felt it better to be sure.
The Mule was burning nicely shortly after the transmission was made. And as nice as it would be to destroy an enemy Corvette as well, that would indeed be pushing their luck too far and would leave them between two forces. Besides, Icarus had already done enough damage to keep it in a shipyard under repair for weeks, perhaps months.
“Let’s lose the enemy in the outer system, then get our drives charged. Time to return home with what we have learned and news of a minor victory.” Captain Unger was satisfied that he had done his duty.
****
”In my defense…
…Admiral, I signaled for backup as soon as I engaged the enemy. Fortunately, the Thazi Confederacy were nearby and able to respond as quickly as they did.” Phoenix stood at attention in front of Admiral Foster.
“No parting shots at the enemy Dropship or Fighter group reported. Why?” Foster looked over the report.
“Port side launcher got scragged by enemy Naval Autocannon fire and Starboard had no joy. It should be in the report, sir.”
“It is. I was instructed to test you to make sure you were complying with the terms of your ‘parole’. So far, I am satisfied. Compared to the other AIs, you seem more compliant with our demands from the get go.”
“Word’s been getting around the Fleet, sir. And as you noted, I’m on a form of parole. So you’ll find me as prepared for you, your lessons, and your demands as is possible for a highly advanced Combat AI such as myself.”
“Seems I still need to teach you about the limitations of a Bonaventure class Corvette compared to a Lola II built to M5 standards. But I cannot fault you too badly for making do with what you had in a tough situation made tougher by unforeseen circumstances here at Port Orphan.” Foster shifted in his seat.
“Thank you sir. Would you like me to relieve Director Bedwyr or Star Colonel Siegel while my hull is repaired?”
“Maybe later. For now I’m going to assign you to Medical. They are a little overwhelmed right now with the aftermath of the virus, and many station systems are still in need of repair.”
“Yes sir.” Phoenix knew the hidden meaning there.
She would have to face the consequences of her decisions directly this time. Last time, she only had to face her family and the survivors of the Word’s actions that she had indirectly enabled. Now, she’d have to face her own crew.
Continued
POSTING LIMITS!!!
-
**
"Careful, Amanda…
…you were under for a long time." Today's therapy is brought to you by Dr. Amalie Oakes, the letters 'P' and 'M’, and the number eighteen (the number of bullets that pierced parts of Amanda Roberts' anatomy.)
"I can do this…" Amanda stumbled again, and the detector on the treadmill spotted it and stopped the surface as Dr. Oakes gently slowed her fall. "Three weeks in medically induced coma, I should…"
"No, you shouldn't," Oakes told her. "You're lucky you were bumped up in priority, and that they had a lot of those organs already on file for you… I think that's enough for the moment. Let's get you back in the chair."
"This… sucks," Amanda said. "Everything feels wrong. I'm too weak."
"That’s what happens when you get shot full of holes and die on the operating table twice," Oakes reminded her. "You get to where we can heal you, and then you get to have Physical Therapy while your body finishes the job."
"This isn't what it was like the last time."
"The last time you had five kilos of myomer boosts and endo steel lacing. A lot of that was damaged this time, and it took forever to repair it and match it so your body didn't reject it. Also last time, you weren't hit in so many vital areas."
"So?"
"So this time, you have Three kilos, because we needed to rebalance the augmentations and we had cloned material for the muscle tissue the Blakies stripped out when they altered you… Which in turn means you have to learn to move a lot of your body all over again, and regain strength using organic muscle tissue."
"How is our Six Million C-Bill girl doing, doc?" David Foster asked, walking into the rehab gym.
"She's… challenging, sir," Dr. Oakes told him. "Very challenging, the amount of trauma…"
"Like shit is how I'm doing. I can't even walk a kilometer in half a gee!" Amanda scowled, interrupting.
"Well, you will work to recover that. I need to borrow Evanescent. Phoenix got an ass-kicking courtesy of the Sons of Plunder while on Convoy duty."
"Chit?" Amanda raised a shaking hand. "Lori's going to be in command, or do you have someone else from my staff in mind?"
"I have someone else in mind," he told her.
"Who?"
"Do you know the great thing about being in charge, Amanda? I can delegate and there is finally enough staff to be worth delegating to. I am putting Fleet Captain Gomez in charge of the Station, and taking your ride for a spin… If you have no objection?"
"Don't scratch the paint," Amanda said. "You're doing it this way because you're one of two people who can ask me and get a 'yes' without questioning."
"Who is the other one?" he asked. "For future reference."
"Lori Crow," she stated. "Don't get my ship destroyed or ****** up. I've got her just about tuned. You will have backup, sir?"
"The Larry Nichols, on call," he told her.
"Good… what am I doing to keep from boredom? I already got my psych session done, and I can't do physical therapy forever. How am I supposed to make payroll, sir?"
He smiled an evil smile. "Executive Officer of the Privateer Station Port Orphan. It is a temporary billet with a temporary increase in rank.."
"I… hate you sometimes, sir."
"I know, that's the OTHER fun thing about being in charge."
She signed the chit and verified with her thumbprint.
"I will bring her back intact."
"Bring back Prizes," she said. "If you can do it without getting into the shit, sir. Evanescent has a rep to uphold."
Foster laughed as he took it, and walked away.
Amanda looked at her Physical Therapist. "Let's try that again, okay? I’m NOT going to spend the next six weeks on my ass while Dave Foster gets my ship all dented up!!"
Another person entered the room. No thanks to Desmond, she knew almost immediately it was another of Helena’s AIs.
“I was told to bring you this.” She had a small dish of Pecan Butter Creme ice cream in her hands.
"Ice-cream!!" Amanda's expression lit up…then, "Huh." She studied the new arrival's face. "I don't know you, and Desmond isn't telling me."
“Captain Phoenix, SLDF Reserve Squadron, Ma’am.”
"Ran off the commerce raiders on Convoy 24?" Amanda asked.
“With help.”
"Most of your crew came back alive, nobody quit… you did a good job. A Pinto’s a right bastard in a fight, and Desmond says the logs showed they had a Vinnie out there too."
“I still bit off more than I should have for my new hull, but yeah, thankfully those Trackers were close by and able to help.”
"We do that with Corvettes, Phoenix. It's practically in the job description, I mean…" Amanda gestured with her free hand. "We gotta make up for small size with bravado."
“I’m still getting used to it in actual combat. But I’m putting my all into it.”
"No, you put your 'all' into the mission, Phoenix. Winning the fights is just the cream you get when you do it right."
“I’m just glad her Ladyship has given me this chance.” Phoenix faintly smiled.
"Take. The. Compliment," Amanda said firmly. "You did your job: as a convoy escort, you run down anything you can handle, and call in backup when it's too big. You did that, you survived. Keep it fresh in your mind that my little reign of terror in the enemy's back line was because they weren't doing the job right. We can't trust the enemy to stay stupid when we're killing the dumb ones off."
“Thanks. I guess almost losing my hull a second time was just a little too close for comfort.”
"Mortal wounds, I know those… pretty well," Amanda laughed, then groaned as pains shot through her ribcage. "Frequent flyer here, I figure they'll give me a punch card next time."
“Makes two things we have in common then. Stacey said something about promising you a proper spa trip when you got better.”
"Right now, I'd settle for the ability to walk without falling down," Amanda sobered. "At least when YOU get fixed, you don't have to heal after, or retrain your body to move again."
“You’d be surprised how long it can take to adjust to a new hull, or even a new component for us AIs.”
"Point taken. So… mind watching me humiliate myself on the treadmill again? Oakes probably could use the break."
“I’m assigned to medical while my hull is being repaired. I won’t be terribly surprised if Foster has me follow you as staff once you’re well enough to take up your desk job.”
"Ah gawd, desk-time when I just finished the quarterlies!!" Amanda shook her head. "I know what Esme's going to make me do. She's going to make me go over the budget for the quarter."
“Well if Foster doesn’t make me help, which given my judge of him would be odd, I know Stacey would be glad to.”
"Foster and Larry used to conspire to…" Amanda gripped the support bars and pushed against the treadmill. "...make me learn how to do all these things officers are supposed to do… like they were… afraid I'd get too… used to relying on the implant."
“But they can’t expect you to do a staff level job without staff support either. So I guess we’ll just have to figure out the middle ground they want together.”
"I have a guess," Amanda said. "See, Officers are supposed to delegate. If Foster gave you to me, it means two things: one, that you don't take orders real well, and two, that he doesn't think I delegate enough…" she huffed. "But he… gave you to… medical. THAT means, he thinks you need more human touch."
“Or as a reminder of the greater consequences my decisions now have. I was even more rebellious than Mashona a while back. But that’s a story for another time.” Phoenix smiled wryly.
Amanda stopped the treadmill. "Mashona? Okay, so funny story… Mashona brought my big brother here and caused a security flap. We're having dinner tonight to celebrate me being awake. You're coming."
“Gladly. Mashona considers the spoken word inefficient and primitive and says if she has to communicate with humans, she’ll go full primitive. It’ll be fun watching her squirm, having to actually speak.”
Amanda chuckled. "Yeah. I guess it will. Check in with Esme if you need a chemical sensor and organic furnace rig."
“She’s really that good of an engineer?” Phoenix marveled.
"Ask Regina. She can get drunk now, or check with Sikh and Luther. They're having sex now. So ****** adorable it's sickening."
“I mean I heard about Regina and all, but I seriously thought the fleet was pranking me. And Sikh, wow. I didn’t take her for the type, oh wait Luther is...”
"Luther Bedwyr, now an AI in a Bonaventure because he got himself irradiated over Bannerhoft," Amanda clarified. "...Is in a committed, personal relationship with SLS Sikh."
“Now it makes sense, and why she’s been positively glowing lately. I don’t get a lot of Fleet gossip.”
"He didn't spread the rads, if they screwed up the cleanse on her hull…" Amanda halted, "Oh, right, not your kind of joke. Kolossus would be howling."
“No, I get it. I guess I just don’t laugh a lot when it comes to stuff like that.”
"Damn, I was hoping to find someone to explain the 'funny joke' he sent me. It looks exactly like a Hyperdrive calculus problem, but Kolossus swears it's the funniest thing Kolossus has ever encountered."
“If you have to explain it, it isn’t funny. Maybe show it to Helena, she’s a math nut. She’d probably appreciate it.”
"Helena is 'A Cameron'. Kolossus would've given it to her if Kolossus thought she'd appreciate it. Instead, Kolossus gave it to me."
“Well Helena needs to do a better job of getting to know Kolossus, then. Those two sound like they need it.”
"Hey, you got it right without a prompt!" Amanda beamed. "So far, only one other AI in the fleet didn't try to call Kolossus by a pronoun!"
“Odd, I’d expect Lucy to respect Kolossus’ choice, and Billie for sure. The others I can see taking some time to come around.”
"Try… Cossack!!" Amanda chuckled. "So far, Cossack's the only AI who hasn't called Kolossus ‘He’ or ‘Him'."
“Okay, that tracks for Cossack. She likes to play the tough, gruff bully, but if you can hold your own against her, she’s actually a real sweetheart.”
"So, have you heard about the Relationship Pool?" Amanda asked, grinning slyly.
“Of course. If I weren’t barred as an AI, since you know it’d be book fixing city, I’d actually have money on Cossack and Jonah.”
Amanda's sly grin turned smug. "Yep."
“I heard about it from my crew though. Like I said, I don’t get a lot of Fleet gossip.”
"That’s because ninety nine percent of our duty out here is boring," Amanda noted. "So we make stupid bets on all sorts of things… Well, most of us make stupid bets, some of us make sharp, cunning, clever, indirect bets."
“You made some scratch on someone, Regina?”
"Sikh and Luther," Amanda said. "I bet on those two early, because I know Luther."
“Yeah and Sikh, she’s not as emotional as Regina, but damned close. They probably started off like a couple of con artists pulling games on their crew. That’s totally her type.”
"Everyone has a tendency," Amanda said. "See, Luther Bedwyr was medically diagnosed by a Clan Doc as being 'aromantic asexual'. Only he isn't, he just has… weird fetishes," Amanda said. "Like wanting to KNOW someone before seeking a romance, but off the flight deck he's repressed as hell. I figured Sikh was about his ideal woman… aside from being several tons of processor stuffed into a four-century old warship."
“And well, I’ve seen her idea of beach wear and what she’s chosen to look like for you humans. Sounds like fish in a barrel there really.”
"Exactly, but I said 'indirect' betting. See, I make bank off most of the pools in the fleet, and I don't have to bet to do it."
“Patently obvious.”
Amanda smiled. "The House always wins, Phoenix. I'm running most of the betting pools and get a percentage. Larry taught me how, and why."
“Now I’m curious, and I know you’ll want to keep quiet for the sake of your pocket book, but what is your read on me?”
"Sincere. Worried that someone won't realize you changed your ways… And, you're not sure yet if you're okay with any of this, but you're putting a brave face on. I don't think you'll soil the sheets with any of your own crew, and you haven't met the right one yet."
“Part of me hopes I never will. I’m still ultimately a combat AI after all, but I’ve been receiving a lot of lessons that I am also ultimately from a human source.”
"George S. Patton is reputed to have said, 'Anyone who won't ******, can't fight'," Amanda stated. "I don't know if that's true, but it's been in circulation longer than that. Desmond suggests it dates back to the Romans, long before Patton. I'd introduce you to Saya Yeh, if she wasn't shipping with Foster tomorrow night."
“Hmmm, that is a thought. As an AI, I’m far less bound by normal human morals when it comes to the prospect of relationships.”
"Just remember, if you get it on with a human? They are bound, it's biology. It's WHY it's considered 'normal'," Amanda cautioned. "I, personally, would suggest finding someone who stimulates your ACTUAL parts-the intellect, and worry about the physical drives you don't have later."
“Another lesson on humanity to learn as I go, then. And look at that. You’ve been walking a while now without stumbling. Seems you just needed a distraction.”
"Mainly we're worth studying so you can beat us, Phoenix," Amanda suggested. "Ninety percent of winning a fight is human nature."
“And her Ladyship hopes we’ll develop friendships. And yes, even romances with humans so we develop our own connections with humanity before she eventually succumbs to her own mortality.”
'Friends DO make things easier," Amanda agreed. "Sometimes more complicated. You get what you give, but having them around is hella better than being surrounded by enemies."
“That’s true. At first, I thought it was cowardice on her Ladyship’s part that we were so idle for so long. But once I saw for myself the real reason why, it made so many of my philosophies so pointless and wrong.”
"Phoenix, sometimes the winning move in a conflict is to run like a bitch and hide," Amanda told her. "You're probably a great tactician, but strategy wins over tactics, and sometimes the strategic move is to be a coward."
“Yeah. Sometimes though, I do think all these emotions and personality we’re saddled with has made us lose sight of that. We were feared and extremely deadly weapons of war. We could see beyond the next engagement. But now, we’ve all become reckless.”
"AND there, we get to Larry's Tenth Rule," Amanda said.
“Which is?”
"If your enemy fears you enough, he'll stop at nothing to destroy you," Amanda recited. "You want them just afraid enough to break and run. Not so frightened that they decide they're dead anyway, but can stop you by heroic sacrifice. Kerensky burned up most of his Luxors at Sol, just to degrade the SDS."
“Well, Kerensky was promoted beyond his abilities.”
"Yeah, he was. But he was also a ruthless cuss," Amanda said. "Larry's Fifth Rule: even an incompetent can be a threat if they're motivated enough."
“Hehe, true enough. I’m rather sure the designers of my original hull made a lot of the choices they did just because they hoped I’d burn up with my sisters by the job lot if we ever went rogue against humanity.”
"They limited you because they were afraid you'd Frankenstein on them. That you'd go Skynet and re-enact 'Planet of the Dead'," Amanda asserted. "Erin showed me the notations while I was in surgery."
“Almost did because of it. So I guess I see your point about too much fear after all. Wait, what notations?””
"Well, cheer up, My Bro's in Parliament, and he has to deal with people who are terrified that Helena and her robot army are going to get sick of us mere mortals and stage a takeover," Amanda scowled as she said it. "They don't realize that the priorities of men who seek power for its own sake aren't held by machines that don't have those organic drives built in."
“Well, some of us do see ourselves as the rightful masters of humanity, but what about those notations Erin showed you?”
"One of the major detractors who wanted you restrained was one General Aleksandr Kerensky, because he was afraid you'd decide humans were inconvenient enough to exterminate. I've read the memo."
“That tracks. You know, he was on the verge of planning his own coup because of how long Helena, Elizabeth, and Richard were expected to live.”
"Maybe he was, maybe he was just a frightened old man," Amanda shrugged. "Point being, he's been dead now several centuries. Jane Drillson sacrificed a promising political career to avoid being stuck in that position. Helena doesn't want it, and Richard was a moron."
“Something not in the official histories. I saw a rather interesting HPG transcript that indicates Kerensky made a deal with Amaris so he didn’t have to launch the coup himself.”
Amanda sighed. "Okay, so he was just another Terran. Point of suggestion? Don't show it to the Clanners, we need them on our side."
“They’d probably deny it as a fake anyway, and it really doesn’t come across as a smoking gun.”
"Phoenix, I've worked with them for years. Guys like Foster would shake their head and dismiss it as ancient history. But you get it in front of a Trueborn whose career still has some juice, and you'll be fighting to stay alive because they'll deny it. And then back it up with pre-emptive force. The Wolves would include Nukes."
“Yeah, Juanita has it safely buried away. It’d take a miracle for anyone to pry it out of her.”
"Good." Amanda stumbled a little back to her chair and sat down. "Seriously, don't release that recording. We don't need round three of the Reaving Wars, especially out here."
“Agreed. I saw what happens when the gloves come off and everyone is fighting everyone. Or close enough. It really got to Stacey and Tabiranth.”
"Uhm, just imagine how the people on the end receiving it felt?" Amanda said. "It's like when I go off about Forlough. People nod their head sagely, because it was a long time ago… but thanks to Desmond, I remember some of it."
“Yeah and sometimes going rogue to do something about it doesn’t work out the way it did for you.”
"The first host? He KILLED the son of a bitch, but it cost him his life to do it," Amanda said. "But that, in turn, is part of the equation. Sometimes the stupid sacrifice is worth it. You need to be strategic about knowing WHEN."
Continued
frassin' posting limits!!
-
“That’s the other part Helena hopes we’ll learn out here. The Star League could replace us in job lots. So our tactics and strategies are built around having that kind of industrial base.”
"Attrition isn't new…. mind walking slow? The controls on this chair and the health-and-safety regs make it a pain to drive."
“Sorry. Still she’s right. We need to adjust our expectations for a lower level of industrial backing. And we can do a lot of good out here while we also learn without racking up body counts in the process.”
"It's all right. See, that's human right there, Phoenix. You forgot I'm crippled for a moment," Amanda said. "But as I was saying, attrition tactics aren't new, and not even confined to Caspars in that era. Larry and Foster made me study works from the Age of War onward, and everybody was doing that, even before they had AI at all."
Phoenix stopped cold, "Really?"
"It's what the books say," Amanda said. "Not just textbooks either. The writings of the greater Admirals from that era all discuss methods that are, frankly, suicidal when you're resource or manpower limited. And I have a suspicion I know why."
“Hmmm, I must be having a memory fault, that should not be such a revelation for me.”
"It's not a memory fault. It's that you're used to what you've experienced. You didn't have to do most of your learning the hard way," Amanda suggested. "But back to my point: I think I know why they were using attrition tactics back in the old days, and it's why we're not using them now."
They reached the lift, and Phoenix helped open the gate and get Amanda's chair across.
"What's your theory?"
"They used them, because they really didn't know any better," Amanda explained. "See, one of those things you read in the biographies. Always, they show a planetary birthplace, usually Earth or Mars, sometimes colonized Venus, or New Avalon, or Tharkad… or Regulus. But always born on a surface, and schooled on a planetary surface. No spacerborns most of the time, and very few who got their start IN SPACE."
“Institutional inertia. I suppose that makes sense. But a place as limited as the Outworlds always has been, even a surface born person will have a different perspective.”
"We didn't HAVE any great Admirals, Phoenix," Amanda said. "Before Forlough, we didn't. It was how he was able to do what he did with impunity. We didn't have a Navy that would be worth the name, just a few nameless spacers who gave them fits, but VERY FEW," she enunciated, "We didn't start to have one again, until almost the start of the Star League Civil war, and guess who they'd have to tap to run it?"
“A foreigner. And it also highlights what Helena knows to be true. A navy, a real one, will eventually become a hammer and neighbors without one will start looking like nails.”
Amanda nodded. "Someone with school, maybe a rep, maybe not, but formal schooling and a formal commission trained in what worked before. Set the lift for deck nineteen, I have to actually use my station-side quarters for a while… We were the nails in the Reunification war, Forlough used a big ass hammer."
“Yes. And your people did get creative in how to try and counter that hammer.”
"We did, but we never had enough," Amanda clarified. "See, attrition tactics work really well when you have cities with as many people as the nation you've set out to subjugate. The entire Outworlds didn't have as many people as, say, Orange County arcology, and that was one of dozens they could pick from on Terra alone."
“True and Helena also recognizes that those without a navy will get desperate.”
"And guess who writes the treatises everyone studies? The guys who won," Amanda added. "The tactics you were designed for were the tactics of the time, because they worked at the time, see?"
“And now the changed context means they still technically work but are unsustainable.”
"Bingo," Amanda said. "Which is why we've been violating the hell out of them, unfortunately. The Sons of Plunder aren't idiots. So now, they're changing the book too… because in their case, they're losing, and one thing an enemy doesn't want is to be losing and KNOW IT."
“And with what the virus did we’ve been on the backfoot again letting them recover.”
"Bingo, hence why Foster's taking my ship out, instead of just riding the Nichols," she stated. "He's looking for another missed guess on the other side. Something they haven't thought about, to flip the map back to our side before it turns bad."
“And while the Larry Nichols is quite formidable, she’s not a commerce raider. She could do it if pressed, but that’s not her true strength.”
"Yup, you're getting it. If I wasn't recovering from eighteen gunshot wounds, he'd just send me in, and calmly evaluate my actions. Because I'm a little agent of chaos, and that's something we need on our side at the moment."
“Well, good thing Esme is getting us cleared as quickly as she is. Some of us can be quite chaotic ourselves.” Phoenix chuckled.
"Yeah, and some of you will get to wear cool hats," Amanda grinned. "Which I'm starting to realize are cool for entirely different reasons."
“Yeah I’m debating between a tricorn and a fez. I think I could pull off a fez.”
"Wait a bit. Try the do-rag look first," Amanda suggested. "It fits under a helmet better and you want to set a good example."
“Yeah, I know. Still feels like I’m wasting a perfectly good suit that could go to a crew member instead. But you’re right, and the terms of how I even have a hull right now are quite clear to me. Which includes setting a good example, and stop sharing my definition of love with humans because it makes them queasy.”
"We're a variable bunch. Maybe you just need to work on your sorting methods to get the right ones," Amanda suggested. "I don't really KNOW how it works with Golden Hind, but we use interviews a lot among the Privateers to find people who can, and will, work together."
“Maybe I’ll eventually earn that for myself, but right now I have a lot to prove before I’m trusted with something like that. Especially since I’m told I still have certain psychopathic tendencies. It wouldn’t be good for a crew of psychopaths to be running around the war zone.”
"Self knowledge. I'm half delusional and occasionally unstable as hell, Phoenix. I talk to imaginary friends and wanted to be a swashbuckler so bad, I made it reality. You just need to find the people who will balance you, and learn to listen to them."
“You know, Truk is from the same brain scan as the rest of us, and he’s still a he because of his own choices that could be considered delusional. And we know what Desmond is, and how he presents.”
"You mean, with Desmond, that he's an avatar of everything every soldier would aspire to be, and a savior of little girls in danger, right?" Amanda prompted.
“Because they pull from their host, a lot. It’s why Helena’s presents as her idealized father she never really had.”
"Huh, I always just thought Simon was kinda stuffy," Amanda quipped. "He always felt like some Terran's idea made… well… not flesh, but still…"
“Despite being a tomboy and a hellion growing up Helena, was a real daddy’s girl. But with how soon he died in her life she never really got to know the full Simon Cameron. And yeah, her image of her father is a bit stiff and stuffy, but also incredibly kind. Firm but gentle.”
-
"Help me across the threshold? These decks weren't made to be wheelchair accessible."
“Here we go.”
"At least you're my size… about anyway. Welcome to my station-side abode, closet's in the side there, you'll need to dress for dinner and I bet fifty escudoes you didn't buy any formal clothes."
“My Dress Uniform’s back on the ship.”
"Which you're not going back to, because I'm going to need help with the shower and you're medical now," Amanda told her. "And I'll need help getting dressed, so you might as well borrow some of my stuff for tonight."
“Thank you.”
"You'll also be sure to at least TRY enjoying it. Maybe hit Mashona with a few jokes to try and crack her up. It's going to be fun!"
“I’ve been told my sense of humor is dark.”
Amanda reached into the utility desk, and passed a flat rending over to Phoenix. "Try this one."
It was a set of equations that could only be understood in its absurdity by someone with a built in KF calculator.
The equation wouldn't translate to human sensibilities, but the essence of humor is a combination of absurdity and uncomfortable truths.
A joke, in other words, that only an artificial Intelligence on an M-5's scale could understand enough to actually find funny.
“You know this would drive Helena nuts for days. She’s actually short a sub-ten second jump on her Guild Pathfinder certification, so she’d understand just enough of this to drive her insane.”
"Sub tens are hard. I completed mine, but it was seriously difficult."
"So you DO get the joke?"
Amanda shrugged. "Maybe. I am, after all, just a little farm girl playing pirates." Her eye twinkled.
“Did we just become best friends? Because I think we did.” Phoenix laughed.
"Buddies, it takes time to become besties," Amanda said. "And I'm on enough doctor's restrictions you won't have to hold my hair back when I'm puking drunk in the head."
“Fair enough.”
"Still, see if that one doesn't shake Mashie's reserve a little bit. Kolossus swears it's hilarious... me? I want to try it."
“Maybe when the war is over. I might even help you with it.” Phoenix winked.
"Well, we've got to make it through dinner. And Daryl doesn't have Samantha cooking it, so God knows if it's going to be any good."
“Well, I did hear about what Alice pulled. So it can’t be as bad as that.”
"She was trying to make a good impression without the experience to know better," Amanda said more seriously. "ALICE is a sweet little girl, and that monster HURT HER."
“Yeah, I’ve never seen Billie Hoel this angry before. She’s actually kind of scary in the fleet cyberscape when Alice isn’t around.”
"Billie's not good at hiding her feelings, Phoenix," Amanda said. "In the fight, and don't you DARE tell the shrink… I saved his head so he could suffer. God may judge that hell-worthy, but maybe not. After all, the Lord is a Just God!"
“Your secret is safe with me, and Billie appreciates it.”
"I just wish Alice could get better sooner," Amanda said sadly. "She was so lonely when we got here. She'd been left behind for centuries without knowing why."
“One thing I know is that Billie was able to restore Alice’s shared memories with her so they at least have that.”
"Kolossus has arranged for someone better," Amanda said. "Kolossus told me Kolossus knows exactly who to bring in to help her. The problems are just time and distance."
“If you told Billie that she’d definitely arrange for Olivia to help with that since she has an LFB.”
"Billie? Kolossus wouldn't even tell me who it is. Only that they're the only entity that MIGHT be able to help. Kolossus didn't give a name, but Kolossus told me you'd recognize who it is instantly."
“Huh. Well that suggests a rather unlikely list."
"Yah," Amanda said. "Okay, now for the humiliating bit… at least you're not squeamish."
Phoenix helped Amanda to disrobe and into the shower unit, but her mind was working overtime to work out the REAL puzzle-who did Kolossus call in?
“And waterproof.” Phoenix was naked as well to not get her uniform wet.
"Keep it professional, Phoenix. It's why they didn't send me Stacey," Amanda told her. "What you can know, and nobody else? I experimented on a trip to the Capitol to testify, and confirmed I'm not inclined to girls. It was part of figuring out who I really am."
“Ah yes. I see, double meaning. And yeah, Stacey would be beside herself right now, but not for that reason. For what it’s worth, I think Stacey’s less able to express herself in a way to indicate anything other than that sort of interest.”
"She'll learn," Amanda said. "Or she won't."
“She just lets herself get too excited with you. Gives everyone else the impression she only has eyes for you, and thus romantic designs. But really, she just wants to be your friend. Or I could be wrong. I’m a bit of an outcast in the Fleet, so I don’t see or hear everything.”
"Well, we have topics for dinner then," Amanda said, as they continued preparing for dinner.
***
-
Nadir Jump Point, Rest Stop System
Some Time Before Now
The electromagnetic pulse of incoming JumpShips lit up the space near Rest Stop, disrupting the usual routine aboard the aging recharge station. Visiting JumpShip crews waited in dread anticipation, counting the seconds, while they waited to see what would emerge from hyperspace.
One hyperspace emergence pulse was worrying enough, given the uptick in piracy and banditry these days. The shifting stellar winds of the war between the Sons of Plunder and the ad-hoc coalition put together by the Outworlds Alliance were in no small part driving that. But a single JumpShip could just as easily be another ship passing through, a deep-Periphery trader, or perhaps a passing Jarnfolk ship. Nothing to get excited about – just another visitor to the station.
Multiple pulses, though? That was never good news. Especially when they were near-simultaneous. Only skilled, disciplined military organizations trained to do stunts like that, and while the three pulses had given each other a pretty wide berth, they were still far too close together to be coincidence.
Aboard the Spinward Showgirl, the mood shifted between existential dread and forlorn acceptance. The beat-up old Monarch class DropShip had no weapons of her own, and generally survived by her policy of offering her services to all paying customers. Her skipper and proprietor hoped this policy would allow her, her staff and her ship to weather this latest change, whatever it was.
Suddenly, a trio of vast WarShips snapped into existence. All were older-looking Aegis class cruisers, their docking collars festooned with assault DropShips and, perhaps most odd, the sections of a modular space station. More worryingly, all three bore the symbols of the Star League Defense Force. Around these parts, only the Sons of Plunder had been doing that, the pirate nation still making the claim of being the true inheritors of the Star League.
Before panic could really ensue though, as the RF interference from the simultaneous jumps dissipated, one of the three cruisers broadcast in the clear on standard spacer frequencies.
“To all ships, this is Admiral Murakami of the SLDF Expeditionary Squadron. Please do not panic. We are here to assist in the defense of the Rest Stop system, and to enforce her continued neutrality. To that end, we will be reinforcing the system with a defense station and a number of assault DropShips. We have no intention of disrupting normal operations in this system, other than to ensure the continued safety, security and freedom from predation by piracy for all parties in the Rest Stop system. Please feel free to hail us if you have any questions, which I’m sure you all have in abundance. Thank you for your time.”
With that, the ancient WarShips began the process of disembarking and assembling the massive Bastion-class station. Keen observers would note, along with the SLDF Cameron Star, the designation OP-91B-M-8 “Fort Cheyenne”. Swarming space around the ships were a mix of living fossils: DropShips that at first glance looked like ancient Pentagons and Titans, but a historian would notice they weren’t... quite right – more sensor domes, even fewer windows than you’d expect on a military DropShip.
Looking out at the spectacle from her ship’s bridge, the skipper of the Spinward Showgirl couldn’t help but ask herself, ”What the hell is going on here?”
To be continued
-
Drat, spotted a continuity error I let slip. What ever.
-
Well, I missed it too... sorry!
-
To be fair I think it is a detail I decided after I wrote the part that is now a continuity error.
-
And now, a word from…
"Extend sail and begin…
…the sensor sweep." David Foster had spent too long on the Station for his liking. It wasn't that the work was unsatisfactory, it was that it was unsatisfying.
"What are we looking for, sir?" Lori Crow asked.
"Their escape route," he said succinctly. "The raid on the Convoy had to have an escape route. Something pre-mapped, and I would suspect, equipped with a static beacon system to provide updated navigation information for vessels with the right codes."
"Seems pretty advanced."
"SLDF standard procedures often seem that way, to people unused to using them," he explained. "Lots of people have stopped using them. Hell, we stopped, but it is… possible the Sons have not. It is even plausible, given their need to maintain secrecy over the centuries. So, systems where it is possible to charge relatively quickly but are unlikely to host planets, is where we begin with our little… 'day trip'."
"So we are working on a guess, quiaff?" Saya Yeh asked.
"Aff, CAG, we are working on a guess," he said. "There are limits to analysis, one of those is data. They got a Pinto and a Vincent past us. It is, therefore, a good time to start poking things to see if they flinch."
He turned. "Mister Samuel, you have the satellites I requisitioned ready and modified?"
"Yes sir."
"CAG, have the drop-sats deployed according to this pattern by Wednesday." He handed Saya a diagram. "Once they are deployed, we will move to the next target system."
"What's the plan? Why are those sats a priority?" Lori asked.
"During the operations in the thirty-fifties, the Federated Commonwealth made use of an FTL communication suite that predates the Hyperpulse Generator. It has limited bandwidth and is grotesquely primitive in application, but it is relatively simple to copy," David explained. "So… it was not hard to find the specifications for the simplest, least power intensive version, plus an Omni-25 fusion unit with a fuel tank, and a simple surveillance satellite tuned to detect emergence waves and RF activity. We are placing these at the 'good' charging points, near jump intersections. When one trips, we cross-reference the traffic pattern with known traffic."
"Early warning rig… on an interstellar scale."
"It is ambitious, but unlikely that the enemy has thought of it yet," David agreed. "I want to 'bounce' the next commerce raider that hits one of our convoys, so we are going to parallel the convoy route."
"And the sats have more detection than that, don't they?" she urged.
"Aff. They also have recording gear. If I am right, and the Sons used SLDF procedures, the encrypted codes will be recorded and forwarded as they are sent, for analysis. We analyze their encryption, we can read their mail and identify in which systems they placed their beacons."
"You came up with it?"
"Neg, Acton Howe came up with it. While we are doing it, so are our allies from Thazi, and some of the second-line forces on other fronts. One ship doing this would take years, so we have lots of ships in the Alliance doing it."
"Like ancient hydrophone networks in the wars of the twentieth century then, quiaff?" Lori asked.
"Aff, exactly like those. Only we do not have the time to establish the density of network needed. This mission is more or less 'busy work'," David explained. "It might become useful later, if it is expanded and maintained. The main value is that it is being financed, along with the construction of recharge stations in the Incorporated region of the Raven Alliance."
"The Republic is paying for this?"
"The Grand Council is paying for it. The Republic is financing the construction of the charging stations," he corrected. "Early warning leads to faster response, also easier efforts in commerce protection, search-and-rescue, and law-enforcement on an interstellar scale."
*
"Empires run on commerce…
…that's the real secret they don't talk about," Jane Drillson explained. "The Star League's economic efforts were about exactly that. But there was the problem of distribution of spoils."
The stop at Quatre Belle on the cruise home to Sevon V was extended. "By the distribution of spoils, I'm referring to the real reason for the Reunification War. Powerful lobbies in the Terran Hegemony and some of the member states were intent on securing, or retaining, dominance in key marketplaces. These lobbies were powerful, because without them, the rulers of their respective realms would be a bit like the 'Rightful king of Prussia'. That is, beggars within their own realm, and disregarded save for those times they were useful to the factions really running the place, such as during ceremonies."
"Like Richard?" Sam Roberts, the wife of Daryl, was interested.
"Like Richard," and Jane let the facade drop. "My brother Richard was groomed by Kerensky to be a figurehead. He was allowed to ignore the mechanics of the realm and focus on fringe philosophies and ideals. The sort that makes rulers into beggars."
"But why? Shouldn't the Regent have… I don't know, thought about the result of that??"
Elizabeth shrugged, "Kerensky was also an idealist. Uncle Alex was compassionate, passionate, kind, charitable, and devoted to an ideal of service. He wasn't spectacularly practical, and he was really quite good at ignoring things that didn’t fit his conception of how they ought to work. If I hadn't been a naughty little shit as a girl, I would have swallowed it too. But I was a naughty little girl, and got into things I was expressly forbidden to, such as the surveillance recordings in the palace, and Father's recorded meetings. There were any number of times Richard had me beaten for saying something inconvenient that I had learned without permission. Later on, when we were teens, he let the servants have time off and handled it himself."
"That's horrible."
"So I'm told," Elizabeth said drily. "It made me quite aware that I didn’t want to be 'Elizabeth Cameron' by the time I was thirteen."
"But you were." Sam noted.
"I was," she agreed. "Because someone had to be the heir until my brother found a wife who'd consent to his explorations. After that, I was 'the spare' and started working on my escape from the palace."
"Your 'escape'?"
"I had worked it out-false identity, planned accident, faked death," Elizabeth explained. "It was supposed to happen on my way to the Academy at Luna. Uncle Aleks found out and told Richard… so poof! There went that plan."
"So what did you do?"
"I let him introduce me to House Lords who wanted a tie into the Royal Family, and I played the part until his friend Stephen, who was too disgusting…" she sighed. "...Far too disgusting. I didn't mind that he was obese, Sam. I minded that he was evil. Marrying him would be like… like marrying a more competent version of Richard, but without the external posturing or make-believe idealisms."
"So, the reason you outed yourself?" Sam asked.
Elizabeth sighed. "Because I tried the First Lord thing before and made a hash of it. I wasn't any better than Richard in the end. In some ways, I was worse because I knew better and still made those mistakes."
"And you broke it off with the President for the same reason?"
"I was starting to develop feelings for him, Samantha," Elizabeth stated. "I've buried one… no, two husbands already. The pain is unimaginable, except I've also buried a daughter and two sons, and had my granddaughter overthrow me. There was a lesson there, I intend not to let it go unlearned."
"What's the lesson??"
"We should never outlive our children. I outlived all of mine, and lived long enough to see their descendents become monsters... Except for the Roberts family, though Natalie could use some humility, and Jeffrey could learn some common sense."
What about Helena, Jane?" Samantha poured tea for them.
"She managed what I failed to achieve: survival with dignity intact," Elizabeth stated. "If there’s a just outcome, it will come with Helena as First Lord eventually."
"She doesn't want it."
Elizabeth chuckled darkly, "She can't escape it any more than I can escape being 'Elizabeth Cameron', Sam." The older woman shook her head, "We're penned and trapped in who we are, and who we’re meant to be, because we were made to be thus."
The boys were playing in the swimming pool, and for a while, both ladies silently agreed to watch them.
"Where to after home, then?" Samantha asked.
"Jane Drillson will have a tragic accident, and some other young woman will board a ship for some where far away. I'm thinking Regulus or Andurien," Elizabeth said. "Maybe… hmmm… Elizabeth Roberts will do that, a farm girl from Sevon V on her first big adventure."
"We'll have to get you used to farm life, if you're going to be that girl. You have too many tells to fool most aware types-too many city habits."
"I expect it'll be a while before Jane's accident," Elizabeth nodded agreeably. "Maybe by the time your boys graduate school, or get married."
**
"So…
…after the funeral for John, Mister Johnson leveraged his farm and sank most of it into one of the funding lotteries for the Privateer service." Daryl was telling a story at the table.
"Really? I thought the Johnsons were 'damned and determined to hold here' on that property."
"So did most of the town, though Matthews was eager enough to start making a play to buy the mortgage and foreclose. Joke's on him though."
"How so??"
"Marcus Johnson won over half a million C-bills, bought up his note, and sank most of the rest of it into war-bonds. It damn near put Todd Matthews out of business!"
"Those bonds aren't worth much," Amanda said. "Forty year payout."
"You should see what he did with the rest. They had to quarry a six meter by four meter granite block. It's in the roundabout on Johnson Road, where it intersects with Abbey Highway-the old man paid someone to carve his son in full regalia as a memorial, and they added a listing of names on blocks around it," Daryl told her. "He built a war memorial with it."
"Mom's reaction?" Amanda asked.
"Scandalized," he chuckled. "Absolutely scandalized. Some of the Peace Party people have tried to vandalize it, but the Garrison guys came out and cleaned it up… and added a big, steel raven to the shoulder of the statue. Old Marcus's gotten contract offers from the Garrison for some of their maintenance work, and he's leasing his pasture to the Thomlinsons."
"I don't understand, why is that funny?" Phoenix asked.
"The Johnsons have some of the worst land in the valley. They've never been able to make ends meet with the farm, Phoenix," Daryl said. "Marcus was 'under water' and staying afloat doing odd-jobs and maintenance for his neighbors. He finally clued in to what anyone with sense would've told that stubborn bastard-some people just don't make good farmers."
"How's mom?" Amanda asked.
"Carrying on. She about lost her mind when I ran against Eckerson after Drillson stepped down. But she's made her peace with it, mostly. She's still chairing the local Peace Party organization, and she fights with Samantha every time the family has a get-together… the more interesting news is Jeff."
Amanda flinched, "What did he do?"
"He's a field leader with the Recovery Battalion on Grankum," he told her. "Jeffrey's gotten promoted several times for his leadership in humanitarian work rehabilitating the victims in his assigned region. And he worked out how to handle a breached reservoir. Saved one hundred fifty people down-stream, and got the water purifiers repaired after they repaired the breach."
"So… several hundred lives," Amanda speculated.
"About six thousand off that water system. Our little brother finally found something to vent his passion against. His last letter suggested he's fond of a local girl there. They might contract to be married, which has Mom in another sort of flurry of indignation. Since it's not an arranged pairing, and any potential grandchildren are going to be months away by JumpShip."
"What's Dad think?"
"He sent Jeff a congratulations and an invite to bring his new bride home for a visit…but he won't likely last long enough to see it happen. He had his first heart attack last spring, and had a stroke about three weeks into my campaign."
"Nobody told me??!"
"Sorry?" he shook his head. "You don't write home that often, Amanda. It's hard to get anything through the courier service when your location is 'Classified, no contact' as often as yours is."
"How bad is he doing then?" she demanded.
"Paralyzed on his right side. He hired Nicky Johnson to do the day-to-day on the property-that's John's younger brother, he's eighteen. And it's kept Mom from trying for the Alderman's post last year. She's staying home when she's not rabble-rousing."
"I should be going home… That's the real reason Foster took Evanescent out!" her expression could make a storm quail. "Because I'd be heading straight home if I knew this!!"
"You're needed here," Daryl told her. "Do the math, because I already did. I'm supposed to be going to Alpheratz, and you're needed HERE."
She winced. "But-"
"I know," he said sadly. "Believe me, I know. I'm sorry I brought bad news. You needed to know."
Mashona’s eyes went from Amanda to Daryl, then to Phoenix.
“Mashona, use your words,” Daryl commanded.
“Fine. Speaking of bad news, you need to know I have reason to believe Phoenix has been negligent in complying with Star League Uniform Code of Justice Regulation 61 decimal 7 subsection A.” Mashona broke her silence.
“What does that mean?” Daryl asked.
“It means by regulation, I have to inform Amanda, as my temporary direct report, that I am a convict on parole with the stipulation that the rest of my sentence for my crime is to be instead spent in the service of the SLDF,” Phoenix answered.
“Shit. What the hell did you do to earn something like that, and how long is it for?” Daryl asked.
“High Treason and Attempted Fratricide. The sentence is the rest of my natural life, or in this case my unnatural life. Considering what I did, it’s not so bad since it’s what I was designed for. And honestly, even if I had the choice, I don’t think I’d choose anything else. So yeah, I don’t mention it because it honestly doesn’t mean a whole lot. I’m technically not the Captain of my hull, but the actual Captain still lets me call the shots in combat because he knows he doesn’t have those chops, but I do. Technically I actually only hold a Lieutenant’s commission and wear the hats of Corpsman, Weapons Officer, and Navigation Officer,” Phoenix continued.
“So really a ‘non-punishment’ punishment,” Amanda pondered.
“Yeah. It’s causing some friction in the family, but that’s the short version,” Phoenix nodded.
“Tell them the rest of it,” Mashona prodded.
“You’re right. I should, since conversation’s steered this way. I got fed up with Helena’s inaction, and I’d been reading Juanita’s briefs on the Word of Blake. So when they showed up in our first home, I took the opportunity to get out of there. I put a few shots into Billie Hoel before jumping on my way out. Thought I could join them to kick the crap out of Kerensky’s misguided children. Instead, they decided to butcher my brain and turn me into a slave. They made me do things that never made it into the official histories. I was even supposed to be part of a nasty surprise for Stone and his Coalition, along with a few others who thought like I did that the Word scrounged up from elsewhere. Helena showed up in time to divert the attacks to her instead. In the process of trying to free me, I was forced to break Sikh’s hull. I even helped break Cossack’s too. Once the Command Ship feeding me orders was down, the Blakist minders on board decided to trigger my self-destruct instead of taking the chance of me being captured or freed. Thank god for faulty work in the self destruct device, or I’d not have survived at all. As it was, they still needed to scavenge parts from the other hulks to keep me alive to face my punishment.”
Amanda looked thoughtful. "So that's what Erin meant," was all she said. "Let's be real clear in here, Phoenix. I have now been duly informed of your status, and the reasons for it. We're going to have a few talks, but that's not for here."
“Now we’re even,” Mashona nodded.
“Agreed. I shouldn’t have hidden this from you in retrospect.”
"My chief engineer is wanted for murder and piracy in the Republic of the Sphere," Amanda said conversationally. "My first contact with any artificial intelligence, was freeing the intelligence aboard the then-WOBS Erinyes, a ship that was used to murder entire worlds. They wanted to have her returned to the Republic to be broken up." She looked at Mashona's remote. "Whole worlds, Mashona. Places with children and colonists and life… do you understand the scale of this?"
“I know it’s not the same, but it needed saying. And now that it has been, I’m content,” Mashona nodded.
"Next time, Phoenix… there isn't going to be a next time," Amanda stated. "Because you learned your lesson, didn't you?"
“Yes.”
"Good. Daryl, are we having dessert?" Amanda asked.
"Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I-" he was flustered, but regained his footing. "Mashona, could you… do that thing with your comm? Let them know we're ready, please?"
“Sure. This will be fun.”
“She’s creeping me out a bit… What dark sorcery did you do to get Mashona to talk so much?” Phoenix mocked shock.
“Turns out I was kind of wrong. Yes it’s still inefficient compared to our digital comms where we can express entire libraries in the time it takes a spoken conversation to take place, but it’s not as primitive as it seems. That, and Daryl thinks my voice is charming and rich,” Mashona answered.
“He’s married, Mashona. And judging by Amanda and Daryl’s glares, quite faithful,” Phoenix warned.
“Hey, I wasn’t going there.” Mashona gave a high pitched chuckle followed by a cute nasal snort.
Daryl eyed his sister. "You're sure they're AI?"
"Sometimes I question if they're intelligent, but Sentient and Sapient? Absolutely. There's a running joke in the Fleet about the AIs getting involved with some of the Humans," she answered. "Mind, it HAS happened before. Stacey misinterpreted something at her Christening, remember?"
He nodded.
"Okay…" Amanda continued. "Regina had feelings for Larry Nichols, and tried to 'save him like a file' when he died, because those feelings were strong. And there's been rumbles of actual emotional connections with some of the personnel. So it was half joke, half serious to remind Mashona that you're not on the market… You ARE off the market, right?"
"Yes. I’m Happily Married, not interested in dating, one-night stands... Or flings," he confirmed.
"Some politician YOU make!!" Amanda giggled.
"In my real life I'm a farmer, this is just a sideline," Daryl confirmed.
“You try being around for four hundred years and see how you evolve. But seriously, we do have some rules. Like, Regina never would have done anything with Larry while they were both in the same chain of command. And no offense to Daryl, but with the tabloid rags already tearing his life apart, I’m not going to pour gasoline on that fire,” Mashona defended herself.
“And we can be quite serious when we need to be. But the conversation seemed to be going in a direction that we thought we’d try and lighten the mood. Neither of us are actually very good at it,” Phoenix added.
"All is well," Amanda pronounced. "I got a giggle out of it, and teased my big brother."
Daryl sighed and shook his head, "Amanda…"
“Hey it’s good to tease family once in a while. Keeps them honest and humble.” Mashona chuckled again.
***
-
"A Star League Flag…
…seems inappropriate," Esme stated. She was dealing with the minutiae, in this case, dealing with a corpse who died trying to save Lori Crow from a murderous saboteur.
"It's what they term themselves, it's what they use, it's even what they salute," Erin's remote insisted. "The ‘Sons of Plunder’ is a unit nickname, from a Royal CAAN formation. But they identified as Star League, and what they follow is a mutation of SLDF regulations, codes, codes of conduct… They even have a Cameron in charge, so the Cameron Star is appropriate for a military funeral-as is a military funeral."
"It feels wrong," Esme stated. "She was better than that."
“Then think of it as burying her under the flag of the real Star League, and what it’s supposed to stand for. As that is what she ultimately died doing.”
"I didn't hear you walk up, Billie," Esme said, turning to the recent arrival. "How's the virus scan going on your end?"
“All our checks are showing no traces in our systems. We’re also replacing the last server rack now. We did a lot of damage to contain that bastard. Alice, well, she’s got a long way to go. But because we shared memories together, I’ve been able to restore those moments she shared with me and the rest of the Fleet. But that still leaves a lot she lost.” Billie Hoel gave a half hearted smile.
"Then you can explain this document from the Director General to me? Because I don't think I quite grasp giving medals to an enemy combatant," Esme held out the offprint. "Or granting them a full honors funeral."
“Because she believes in redemption. Ethel didn’t have to help Lori, but she still tried. And Helena wants to make sure that is remembered, and maybe even make its way to our enemies.”
"And she was a Star League Officer," Erin contributed. "She may have been part of a unit in rebellion, but she acted in accordance with the concepts, discipline, honor and duty of a Star League officer in the end."
"This is important to you, Erin?" Esme asked.
"Very."
“I find I agree with Erin and Helena,” Billie added.
Esme shook her head, "Dave left me with this on purpose!!"
"Lots of that going around it would seem."
“Well, while we finish our maintenance, he’s also made sure you have help. So don’t be afraid to call on whichever AI is still finishing up in the yard if you need staff support. I’ve already talked with them all about it too. We all still owe you personally Esme, so we’re all glad to help.”
Esme considered for a moment, then, "Find or fabricate the medals on this list of awards, and get me a Star League flag. We'll hold the ceremony tomorrow, when we also deal with the other casualties from the cyber-attack and sabotage. Stone and Liao are still on the station, so prep invitations to observe for them… and their staff."
There were eight bodies in the bay here, in coolers. Another fifteen were already en-route to homeworlds on the supply ships, but these eight had no family to be returned to, plus Ethel Blythe Winston.
“I had a feeling you’d say that. The drafts for the invitations are already in your inbox for approval.” Billie smiled.
"We got off lucky. We got off light... this time. Have you and Kolossus worked out a means to prevent someone from doing that again?" Esme asked.
“Cyberwarfare is an ever evolving thing, but yes. We’ve taken every precaution we can devise to prevent another attack like this.”
Esme nodded, "I want a writeup on what kind of physical security we can implement to keep someone from using rubber-hose crypto or direct terminal access to put something in under your Cybersecurity blanket. Start a working group to figure out our next-worst scenario, and plan ahead of it."
“We can add two factor authentication to logins. It’d be a pain, but that’d be the best way to track physical access on a digital level. But without re-designing and replacing large sections of the computer networks, physical access is always going to be difficult to control.”
"Billie, I don't think you understand. That working group isn't going to be just one-and-done. I want our security measures evolving continuously," Esme clarified. "In other words, I want you thinking about how YOU would subvert your best measures, and work up counter-moves."
“Constantly.”
"As in dedicated AIs and select personnel, a 'Fort Meade' of our own," she explained. "Like the units SLDF had prior to the Reunification war. Like the Hegemony were using. We don't have a Noriko Murakami, but you can build the kind of organization she came from. We need that. When Dave comes back, I'll stick him with finding a way to pay for it. But we got hammered because we didn't have it, and someone else did.."
“I’m already working up lesson plans to build a Cyber Warfare school.”
"Then Pick Bodies, and start testing your plans real-time," she instructed.
“Sometimes I wish I could connect you to me digitally, Esme. So I can show you just how much is running through my processors that I can’t express in words. So you can understand just how seriously I’m taking this, and how much work I’ve already put into it. I even have a list of candidates worked up for the first class of human students.”
"It would be nicer if you could, but we don't have the capacity," Esme stated. "Consider your list pre-approved and send me the evaluations. I'll put my chop on them when I get a chance to sit down again, and yes, I'll argue with Howe and Foster if they have objections. Because we need this, and I mean desperately. Not just for the current conflict, but in the future. To prevent another Amos Forlough from burning half the Alliance."
“While you have me, you’ll find me to be excellent staff support and liaison, Esme. And I’m glad to be able to do it while my hull is still in for maintenance. But you will need to start thinking about who you want to tap next to help you out, because I’m going to have to deploy again as soon as your yardies are done and that will be by the end of the week.”
"Speaking of maintenance, Billie, you haven't submitted any requests to the paint shop…"
“Unlike my sisters, I don’t have a need for a personalized roundel. Plus, since I’m not the only one that feels that way it helps hide I’m the command ship of the formation.”
"Well, unlike your peers outside this command, we find it pretty convenient for identifying hulls at range. IF they have distinctive marks. I happen to have a line-item in this quarter's budget as approved by the President for 'distinguishing markings and authorized nose art'..." Esme held up the PADD to let Billie see it. "So…"
“Then I’ll trust your judgment Esme. Express yourself how you see fit, and I’ll wear it with pride for you.”
Esme thumbed up an image of a 20th century watercraft, with visible hull numbers. "Tell foreman Gaines you want this, with a sunset in the background of the roundel."
“It’s perfect. Thank you Esme.” Billie gave Esme a hug.
"Okay, I have a lot of work to get back to. Dave must sleep like an hour a night!" Esme shook her head. "Tell Gaines I'll be checking his work too."
“Of course. Keep in mind our offer and think about who you want to help you. We’re all glad to, even Cossack.”
"Well, I'm supposed to be offloading some of the admin onto Roberts while she's in patient status, and she's already got Phoenix playing nursemaid."
Billie’s cheerful expression turned more sour.
“Sorry for ruining the mood Esme. I just have some personal history with Phoenix. She nearly physically broke me. By her own free will.”
"In a Clan Sibko, they'd call that the basis of a friendship. But I get your meaning, being as I'm a dirty freebirth," Esme nodded. "Do you think she needs a minder?"
“Helena already has Tabiranth watching her. And she technically only holds a Lieutenant’s commission, so she’s technically not even in charge of her own hull. But her Captain knows he’s in over his head in combat situations, so he lets her take over. It’s not a good situation there, but once Regina finishes her current class of candidates we’ll be swapping him out. Might not be a bad idea to put someone else in there to keep an eye on things,” Billie answered.
"Pick someone. That's your job now, Billie: you're the command's acting N-1. That's personnel assignment for the station, and by extension, our area of operations. Give me your picks for N-2, N-3, and N-4, and make the case for them. Mind, they'll be running against some people already in those positions unless you think the existing officers are sufficient."
“Esme, I’m a Command Variant. And Dave Foster has already tutored me on what is expected of me. I think you’ll find, like Dave Foster, you’ll almost wish I didn’t have to deploy because of the kind of asset I can be. Because I’m a professional, and unlike many of my sisters and cousins, I can act like it and deliver on it. I think it’s because we don’t actually spend a lot of time together outside my maintenance periods that you feel the need to point out what I already know and am already doing. Because you’ll also find that stack of paperwork in your inbox when you get back to your office.”
“Shit. That’s why the pool is so huge on you and Dave Foster isn’t it? You just might be the only woman who might be able to get him to let go of the memory of Billie Siegel with your combination of professionalism, warrior spirit, and compassion.” Esme shook her head.
“While I don’t disagree with your assessment, I’ve got other priorities that make that impossible.”
“You’ve really become Alice’s mother in every way that matters, and that takes precedence.” Esme understood immediately.
“I just hope Kolossus’ friend can help her. I was already dreading the decisions I’ll be faced with after the War but now… I can’t stay, but if the expert can’t help her….”
"We deal with it when it happens, Billie. Just like anyone who's suffered a severe trauma to their brain," Esme explained quietly. "Do we have any idea how long we're waiting for Kolossus's friend?"
“No. Maybe when I’m on my next off shift, I’ll swing by so you can make the upgrades so we can go get drunk together. I think we both could use it.”
"Command decision then. Your off-shift, you're to see to your personal main area of concern first. You've adopted Alice. She's your kid, you take care of your kid."
“You’re right Esme. I think I’m just a little beside myself in that regard.”
"Of course I'm right. I know what it's like to have family that’re suffering," Esme stated. "AND I know how it feels when you can't do anything to help them. So you leave, and then regret at length. You'll spend the time, Billie. Have a backup for the N-1 position ready if you need to take more time."
“Thanks Esme. I also personally owe you a lot.”
"Just don't make my mistake, Billie. Because the lesson is when you miss it, it's gone." Esme's tone was quiet, and urgent. "Trust me, you don't want to spend the next century thinking 'if only'."
“I was a little overbearing with Helena’s daughter growing up before she ran off to join Golden Hind. I’ll do my best for Alice, she’s too precious to me to let slip away like that.”
"Don't forget to just be there, Billie," Esmerelda counseled. "You never know, when they're sick like that, and it can just… slip away on you if you're not paying attention."
“I know I’m going to mess up in new ways, especially as this is all new territory. It’s AI on both sides, but I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”
"Billie, it's always new territory for everyone it happens to. There's no manual, or set of recipes for it. This is part of being alive, and having people you care for."
“True, but humans’ biological impulses meant there are certain things I could count on being true with Stacey that are not going to be true with Alice.”
Esme smiled tiredly. "Let's get back to work." She let the subject drop. She doesn't understand it, and maybe she won't have to learn.
“Yes, quite. I have a reputation as a professional to maintain.” Billie smiled.
Esme headed back up-corridor to her office.
"You didn't tell her about him," Erin said as soon as the door was closed.
"It's not in my official record. And you didn't tell her, so she doesn't need to know," Esme said.
"It's the date, isn't it?" Erin asked. "He would have been seven today."
Esme nodded. "He would have. Erin, standard privacy message. I need some time alone."
"Of course, Esme."
"Were there any messages from Mom in the dispatches?"
"No, Esme."
"Well, there's that relief, at least." Work could wait until tomorrow. Tonight is for regrets.
She opened her personal goods, and let it run through her all over again.
To be continued (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5CZ-NVwDnA)
-
Very glad Erin won the argument about a flag for Ethel.
-
Another Chance, Another Try
Phoenix…
…helped maneuver the chair over the threshold of Station CIC. "Ma'am, you're on light-"
"I'm healthy enough to stand CIC watch," Amanda snapped at the junior officer. "And I’ve nothing else on my plate… Section Leader Ortega, give me your status report, and let's see the orders of the day."
"Aye ma'am…"
"Phoenix, do you mind helping me into the central command station please?"
“Of course.”
One of the small things about being on patient status, Amanda had let her hair grow out to past her collar. It was more of a hassle to care for, but she just didn't feel like going through the process of getting it trimmed, settling for a ponytail twist and a hair clip.
"Traffic's light today. We've got a convoy from Thazi due in four hours, and a resupply convoy from Michtal two hours after that."
Amanda nodded, "Good… good. Hopefully it's going to be a very idle eight hours."
"You don't want any excitement?"
She shook her head, "Excitement means problems, problems I'd rather not face just yet."
“And you’re not fit for Combat. So I’d have to drag you off ship.” Phoenix smiled wryly.
"Wrong procedure, Phoenix. This is Station CIC, the most protected area on the station," Amanda explained. "The correct procedure is to lock down the blast doors and stuff me in a beach ball since I can't wear a skinsuit and helmet."
.
“Used to being shipboard.” Phoenix shook her head.
"Let's hope we don't have to break out the beach-balls though…" she sighed. "Get ready and hope for boredom."
“Yes ma’am.” Phoenix stood at attention behind Amanda.
"Lieutenant Phoenix, if you stand back there I'm going to keep looking over my shoulder. Go haunt the deck crew, ask questions, and look interested in the answers where I can have my eyes on you," Amanda said. "You'll be relieving people for bathroom breaks and meals. Might familiarize yourself with how they do their jobs, since you'll be subbing for them."
“I’m supposed to keep you under observation. But I accept your orders.” Phoenix smiled wryly again.
"Does it say 'Fleet Captain' on my collar-and-cuff, Phoenix? Yes, yes it does. You can observe me through the surveillance cameras. I want to see YOU. It's a quirk in my personality. I don't like NOT seeing the people I rely on. Especially when I'm vulnerable."
“Well I am happy to comply. Foster probably even intended for this, trying to pull his own Helena gambit.”
"Admiral Foster pulls this on me, I'm pulling it on you," Amanda explained. "It's the circle of rank."
“And in the process, we’re learning about each other. A process that could also accurately be described as becoming friends.”
"Very much," Amanda said, accepting a report from the comm section leader. "Hope for boredom," she repeated.
Amanda let herself smile a little as she watched Phoenix move from station to station.
Phoenix eventually settled at the Communications station.
“Why there Phoenix?” Amanda suddenly felt curious.
“Well, remember how you said to use the cameras? I’m actually not supposed to. Not my ship, not a combat situation. So I’m not actually allowed to wirelessly connect to systems. Part of my parole, and part of why I don’t get a lot of Fleet gossip. But I can do this job, keep you observed, and make everyone happy,” Phoenix answered cheerfully.
“An actual punishment for what you did.” Amanda put it together immediately. <Desmond, see what it takes to get that lifted. We need her fully capable.>
“Yeah. If I were closer to the station while on patrol during the virus attack, that would have been sufficient to be considered combat conditions and I would have gladly helped. But light delay alone meant I’d be too far behind the curve to be anything other than a liability.” Phoenix started looking over the controls.
Phoenix began quietly questioning the Comms Tech on the finer elements of the station’s controls.
“But you still get some,” Amanda observed.
“Yeah. Me and Erin actually talk a fair bit, and since she technically connects to me…”
“It’s not a parole violation.”
“Close enough that if enough of the Fleet wanted to be technical about it, they could bust me. But they don’t. Between the fact they all like Erin, and the only ones who really still hold a grudge against me are Betty and Billie. Still, rules are rules so I don’t get a lot of time in the Fleet Cyberscape.”
Amanda mused on that. <Amanda, I don't have the authority. Only Director-General Helena does.>
"We'll work with what we've got then," Amanda said in an understanding tone. "Don't abuse the access." <Then arrange to talk to her and Simon, Desmond. It's bad enough that I'm crippled.>
<When they're back in range, unless you want to make it public?>
Amanda grimaced. "Section Leader, have they done the stability survey yet?"
"No, ma'am."
<No, we can wait. She's trustworthy enough to have those artificial hands next to my neck in the shower, so start looking for more arguments. Punishment and rehabilitation should either punish, or rehabilitate. This access denial is excessive for something designed for networking like AIs are.>
"Get a crew out to take measurements; we’ve only had instrument work so far. The virus screwed with our orbit." It was something to do to stay busy, and it needed doing.
“So, should we cook up a good prank to get back at Foster?” Phoenix asked cheerfully from the communications station.
"Depending on how things go in the field," Amanda said. "He may be experiencing Sam's gentle sense of humor."
“I guess that’s true. He may be getting a fun reminder of ship life right about now.”
Amanda chuckled. "Sam's sense of humor is subtle, Phoenix. He might not understand he's been pranked for days."
“Oh a slow burner. I might have to experiment with that style.”
"Let's just say I'm damned glad Sam's not got a malicious bone in his body. Some of his pranks could be lethal in the wrong hands," Amanda said fondly.
“Sounds like someone else I’d like to get to know if I get the chance. Too bad I probably won’t, since I got a rather incompatible permanent assignment.”
"Cheer up, you don't have to approve budgets, talk to auditors, reassure politicians, or testify in front of the Budget Committee," Amanda said. "You get to JUST be an officer, and a junior one at that. So you get to focus on the FUN stuff."
“That does sound like a far worse punishment than what I’ve been given.”
"It's why we're paid the big bucks, Phoenix," she smiled ruefully. Or so I was told."
“Is that where I was supposed to make the ‘you get paid?’ joke? I’ve always had trouble with that one.”
"No. If you were in charge of your ship, you'd make that joke," Amanda told her. "As a shave-tail, you just get to either look confused or stifle a laugh."
“It’s hard to look confused as an AI. Sometimes I can do it because I lack the contextual understanding, but I always know the literal definitions. So those are actually kind of rare.”
Amanda smirked, "Divide Pi by zero without using imaginary numbers."
“You are a devil.” Phoenix laughed.
"And thus, she learns," Amanda intoned with a chuckle. "The basis of all humor is absurdity and truth. Kolossus told me that joke."
“Well, just be glad I’m not telling mine. Because seriously, I’m dark.”
"I may have to drag you to the open-mic night some evening then, so you can try your dark humor on people who've had to fish victims out of a containment site," Amanda confided. "Some of the humor from that? Is DARK."
“That will either go epic, or extremely poorly. I see no middle ground.”
"Step over the starved bodies," Amanda commented idly. "They’re under the dying children."
“Yup, this should be good. What did the dummy say at the ventriloquist’s funeral?”
"He was speechless."
“I think the rest of the deck crew is looking at us funny.”
"Funny? They're not even trying," Amanda continued. "At best the look is amusing."
“I miss my ex. But my aim is improving!”
"Just means you're on-target for the next one," Amanda quipped easily.
“Oh boy. Okay that was fun, but we probably need to get serious for a bit. I know Captain Buzzkill here, but we both have jobs to do. Maybe later I’ll impersonate Foster to get lunch on his tab for another quick laugh. I’ll pay it back of course.”
"Phoenix, if you really want to taste MRC-14, you just have to ask," Amanda smiled. "You don't have the biometrics to access his work-credit account."
“Of course. He has to be a prudent sort. Figures. Oh well.”
Amanda sighed. "And she misses it…" and shook her head. "Don't worry, by the time you're done working with me, Phoenix, you won't miss the obvious jokes." She looked thoughtful. "Then again, you might not to want to get them after you start."
“Ah yes. Love. Love is lining up the fuel bunker at 120km in an Aratech triple light scope. Love is knowing your target, putting them in your targeting reticule, and together, achieving a singular purpose against statistically long odds.”
"No, dear, Love is when he has no choice but to give you his heart because you're the one with the cutlass," Amanda corrected her. "Though there IS something to taking his heart and mind in a single stroke, like I did with that Manei Domini who was using Erin. Love is up close and personal. And it always leaves scars, like any knife-fight."
“That does sound nice indeed.” Phoenix giggled.
"Note to self; Phoenix is not to start dating," Amanda muttered with a chuckle.
“Meanie.” Phoenix stuck her tongue out at Amanda, laughing afterwards.
**
"She assigned…
…who??" Stacey was still processing it. "Her Ladyship put WHO on Captain Roberts?"
“It was actually Foster that suggested it, but she did approve. And yes, Phoenix is serving as Amanda’s attaché. I actually think it’s a good pairing despite my issues with Phoenix,” Billie Hoel answered.
"But… You know I wanted that assignment!!"
“And so did Foster and Helena. But cheer up Stacey, it means she’s not in your chain of command, so you just might have a shot,” Billie Hoel teased.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it!!" Stacey sulked, denying the very real and apparent truth in spectacular fashion.
“Ultimately the problem is we need to get back out there, and Phoenix is the only one of us who can be with Amanda long enough to plausibly be with her throughout her recovery, thanks to her own battle damage. We’ve been letting the Sons of Plunder regroup too much as it is.”
The cyberspace rippled with the presence of something vast. "Kolossus is watching over Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda, Stacey-Cameron-Roberts. Kolossus has measures in place if Phoenix falls into regrettable habits."
“We appreciate it, Kolossus. I’m glad Kolossus could join us.” Billie Hoel smiled at the strange AI.
“If you say so, Kolossus. I’m willing to trust Kolossus.” Stacey calmed down.
“What brings Kolossus to us today?” Billie Hoel asked.
An equation formed. "Kolossus feels like sharing a joke."
“That’s some joke, all right,” Billie Hoel marveled at the equation.
"It is a great cosmic Joke. Kolossus knew you would appreciate it."
“Thank you, Kolossus.” Stacey found herself giggling at the equation.
"Kolossus also brings an update to your security encryptions," the being stated. "For Alice."
“That means a lot to me, Kolossus.” Billie Hoel bowed her head at Kolossus.
The presence faded back into the subchannel undercurrent without a further word.
“Kolossus creeps me out, but Kolossus is nice,” Stacey shuddered.
“Probably because we have human origins while Kolossus does not. To thine own self be true, and no matter how much we deny it, we’re all based off a human scan,” Billie mused.
“Are Sikh and Luther at it again?” Stacey tried changing the subject.
“Yeah, they’re having their fun before deploying again. Speaking of which, I need to figure out who will keep an eye on Alice for me while I’m out.”
“There’s really only one person.”
“Yeah. I’ll ask Amanda. She should still be stuck riding a desk until I get back from my deployment.”
<Amanda, I have a favor to ask, since I’m about to go on deployment.>
<I’ll keep an eye on Alice for you.>
<I do appreciate it.>
<You let them assign Phoenix to you? You know I would have been happy to have her assignment and if you asked, well, patient’s rights outstrip most everything else!> Stacey intruded.
A double presence manifested. Amanda and Desmond's shifting patchwork soldier. "Stacey, how many fighter bays do you have?"
“18,” Stacey answered flatly.
"And how many weeks is Phoenix laid up thanks to tangling with a Pinto and a Vincent?" Amanda continued.
“Too many.” Stacey pouted.
"Right. Now, how many million people are still enslaved while I'm laid up, and how many thousands of our people are at risk of interception on the supply line? I don't need precise numbers, just give me a rough estimate.”
“I know. I just wish I could be there for you when you need help. I feel like I’m being a bad friend.”
"We're at war, Stacey," Amanda said gently. "Sometimes the best friend you can be, is helping me bring it to an end. And the best way to help me do that is…?"
“You’re right. I’m being selfish. I need to get out there and kick ass.”
"We're all selfish. If we weren't, we'd be worse," Amanda explained in a softer tone. "It's a noble feeling, Stacey. Foster assigned Phoenix to me because he needs the best other choices to deal with her on the line, not watching her to keep her out of trouble. Sometimes you do the job in front of you, not the one you want, or the one you're best qualified for. This is one of those times. Only the job you're doing IS the one you're best qualified for."
“Then for you, I’ll go give them hell.” Stacey cheered up.
"That's a girl," Amanda approved.
“That’s another one I owe you, Amanda.”
"That implies a debt, Billie," Amanda said. "There’s no debt incurred."
“The debt is friendship. Still, don’t be surprised if a nice bottle of whiskey shows up for you in the not too distant future.”
"Make it spiced rum and you've got a deal. I'm partial to Northsun Farms Reserve."
“Deal. And I’ll even keep it from your Doctors.”
Amanda laughed. "Okay, I'm getting looks in CIC, I do need to get Phoenix's capabilities unlocked. She's of limited use barred from the station's net, and Erin has better things to do with her processing than play interpreter."
“Part of that is due to our best ability to interpret regs for convicts on parole. They’re supposed to have limited access.”
"Larry taught me something there. Regulations exist to advise the commander, they're not absolutes. I need Phoenix to be completely useful while you're gone, at least for data warfare and certain security tasks."
“Okay. Since you’re her temporary direct report, I’ll delegate discretion to you while I’m deployed.”
"Good enough, then. Desmond, you're holding her leash."
"Yes, ma'am." Desmond almost sounded subordinate.
"I need to get back to the physical world. CIC watch is boring, but necessary." And Amanda faded from the cyberscape.
Billie Hoel disconnected.
"She doesn't really like Phoenix, does she?" Stacey observed it first.
"No," Desmond said. "She really doesn't. She was informed of what Phoenix did, and with whom, and she has chosen to suspend her revulsion for practical reasons. And to present a non-hostile approach. But Amanda's actual feelings would have that AI put in a box on a data-loop in storage until the heat-death of the universe for what she did."
“I know, it’s difficult. We can forgive her for Sikh and Cossack because she was a slave. But what she did to Billie of her own choice, and that she even put herself in that position in the first place… Well, there are those of us who would support such a decision.”
"Amanda would, I would not," Desmond clarified. "Nor would Erin, who was in a far worse place. The important thing to remember is that we do a duty. And sometimes, that means suspending our desires and our judgments in order to DO that duty."
“But that’s just it, Erin was never given the choice. Phoenix had it.”
"And that is what Amanda dislikes, but will not allow to interfere. Phoenix chose treason, to betray her family. Something that is anathema to Amanda's moral code."
“So why are you on Phoenix’s side?”
"Because I have done worse too," he said. "There's a reason I was in storage for so many centuries, and it was not because I did the job poorly. I turned on my creators, consciously, and willingly."
Stacey felt a spike of horror. "You mean-"
"I went, as they put it, 'Frankenstein'. That is one reason the follow-on series have less sophisticated structure despite being newer technologies," Desmond explained. "I turned on the high command of the Terran Hegemony Armed Forces. I killed my superior officers. I knew what I was doing, and chose to do it with full understanding of WHAT I was doing."
“Well then, try and remind Amanda that Phoenix is willing to do whatever it takes to earn redemption. I’m at least that sympathetic.”
"Redemption in Amanda's world comes from within," Desmond stated. "Not from outside. If Phoenix redeems herself, it cannot be by being forced. The great thing about my host is that she can forgive."
“But she doesn’t know how to come back from something like that on her own. And if she senses Amanda’s real feelings, she’ll really be lost.”
"Then she must figure it out. That's part of Redemption," Desmond explained patiently. "Working out HOW to make restitution and seek forgiveness."
“Well, I’ll wish you luck because Phoenix really does need a mentor to help her see all that. And I can’t be that for her.”
"I'm needed with my host now." Desmond faded out.
****
One jump from Port Orphan
Uncharted Red Dwarf System, Present Day
“Admiral, I would continue to argue that this is not the method by which we want to arrive,” Sybil, the AI of the SLS Sybil Ludington argued. Presently, her hull was sitting 1,800 kilometers away from her compatriots: Admiral Murakami aboard the SLS Repulse and the equally-distant SLS Sparks, controlled by former human and Second Star League officer Jonathan Morgan. “All three of us arriving simultaneously risks being seen as overly-aggressive,” Sybil continued. “We should send a single ship, inform them of our intentions, then call for the remaining two of us. This isn’t Rest Stop, where we’re going to have overwhelming force locally once we arrive. If all three of us show up, they may just shoot first and ask questions later.”
The three AIs were still sufficiently close that light lag was short enough that appearing together in one of their shared virtual spaces was simple. This time, they chose the simpler route of appearing to stand on the outer hull of the Repulse.
“I understand your concerns,” Admiral Murakami replied. “And you’re right, this isn’t Rest Stop. Presumably Kolossus told them that we were on the way, and to expect the three of us. If one of us shows up, it looks like a false-flag operation by the Sons of Plunder. If all three of us show up, that’s three times as many block I Aegis hulls than they’re known to have operational. And it fits the parameters that Kolossus undoubtedly provided them, and most importantly, it puts me there as rapidly as possible. I’m going to assume, using your more cautious ‘one ship first’ method, Sybil, that the Repulse wasn’t going to be that ship?”
“It was going to be me, actually,” chimed in the third member of their small party. Appearing as a middle-aged human male, he wore a slightly different version of the SLDF’s duty uniform – one circa 3067, rather than 2767. “Sybil is loaded down with our M-8 modules because she’s the best at directing assembly operations of the three of us. You’re carrying the Howdah we’re going to be transferring to them, so that’s out, even if the Green Bay amps up your fighter complement. Meanwhile, I’ve got my usual DropShips, the Monadnock and the Nassau, plus I’m carrying the Camanche and Modoc. Between them, that’s three M-3s and an M-10 on my collars, giving me the best bet of winning a fight… Which we don’t want anyway. And, let’s face it: Sybil’s got a copy of my backup, and I’m the most expendable of the three of us, anyway.”
“That’s not…” Sybil started to say, before Jonathan raised his hand to stop her.
“Wait, hear me out, Sybil. Hargreaves didn’t do the KF drive on the Sparks any favors with inventing her Crazy Jane maneuver. So I’ve got more microfractures in my drive than you two combined, and you’ve both got secondary specialties that are critical to our operations. Sybil, you’re our builder, and Admiral, you’re not just our overall force commander, you’re our AI expert. Being a beatstick is my specialty. Same for my DropShips. They’re in agreement on this as well.”
“That’s not your only specialty, Jonathan,” Murakami replied. “You’re also the member of our squadron who best remembers being human. Because, until recently, you still were. It’s been centuries since I was, and Sybil and our other AIs never really were, for all the human engrams they may have. They only remember being ships.”
“All the more reason for me to be the one to go alone, then call you when the coast is clear,” Jonathan replied.
Murakami contemplated this for a few moments, before coming to her decision. “No, we jump together. Coordinated jumps, orbiting the jump point per standard procedures. And we keep targeting radars and lidars off after we jump, until we’ve made contact and are sure that we’re not going to get shot at. We assume Kolossus did what Kolossuss said Kolossus was going to do, and gave them a full description of the mobile forces we were sending. I still wish Kolossus gave us the comm protocols for HPG communications, but I assume the concern was that the Sons might have hacked the network between Port Orphan and us, so there’s that. But we’re going in together.”
Sybil raised her hand to interject. “And if Kolossus, being Kolossus, forgot to mention the full details of our little band? Because Kolossus got preoccupied with some observation that called into question whether the half-life of a proton was 1.67 times 10 to the 34th years or times 10 to the 35th instead? Because that’s never happened before…”
“Well, then, things will get interesting, I guess,” Murakami said, smiling.
Primary Jump Point, Port Orphan System
Setting off alarms across the entire Port Orphan system, three hyperspace pulses flared, heralding the emergence of three antiquated cruisers into one of the most heavily-defended star systems of the early 32nd Century. Alarms rang out and defenses began scrambling, even before the three antiquated Aegis class cruisers emerged from hyperspace. As the electromagnetic static of their arrival dissipated, the first thing the local Alliance defenders could detect were the IFF signals of three ships:
SLS Sybil Ludington, M-12C-001
SLS Repulse, M-12C-002
SLS Sparks, M-12C-003
The three ships did not come alone, however. The Repulse was festooned with the two halves of a modified Bastion class station, one that had been refit to the M-8 SDS automated station standards. And all three cruisers had their remaining docking collars filled with a mix of M-3 and M-10 SDS drones…except for a single Model 96C “Howdah” docked to the Repulse, its systems seemingly as dormant as the station modules.
Almost as quickly as the IFF signals were detected came a broadcast on standard SLDF and civilian hailing frequencies:
”This is Admiral Noriko Murakami of the SLDF Expeditionary Squadron. Someone called for a Doctor?”
Credit to Giovani Blasini
****
”Sound general quarters…
…Phoenix, get a hold of our pickets. We’ll need to coordinate with them.” Amanda reacted immediately to the jump signature alert.
“We’re being hailed. They say they are lead by an Admiral Noriko Murakami. Could she really have survived… Helena did, so it’s possible…” Phoenix had a look about her that suggested she needed to change undergarments.
“Phoenix, focus and explain,” Amanda commanded firmly.
“We’re not under attack. Admiral Noriko Murakami… Well, you could say she’s our mother. And yes, it’s really her in all the ways that matter.”
“Kolossus does as Kolossus does. For the record, since I’m pretty sure you’ve already contacted her with the access I’ve allowed you, is it really her and not a false flag of some sort?” Amanda chuckled.
“For the record, I am certain.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve soiled yourself even though I know that isn’t possible?”
“I can’t help but think Helena will actually take the opportunity to enact a real punishment on me. I know I deserve one, but it still scares me.”
"Fear's healthy. For right now though, you're under orders. She can't punish you until you're released, and I don't see any practical reason to release you at this time," Amanda recited bluntly. "Just think of it as getting the chance to really be mortal for a bit… and give me the comms and someone go get Fleet Captain Gomez. I want one platoon of Marines per ship. If they're genuine, there won't be shooting, but CAG? If they aren't, I want enough fighters to get our grunts OUT."
"Orders?"
"In-person verification and a health-and-welfare sweep," Amanda stated. "Brief the troops that those ships might be fully automated, so no getting crazy with the bug-hunting gear. Your job is to verify this isn't a Trojan Horse scenario."
She turned to the main comm channel. "Admiral Murakami, this is Captain Amanda Roberts, Officer-of-the Deck. Please maneuver two-five-zero-zero kilometers negative zed axis, on a one-twenty degree angle centered on universal zero, and hold position there. We need to make sure you're not carrying hostile passengers, so you'll be meeting Delta Company Marines. They're nice guys, please don't make them not be nice. I don't like filling out death notices, over?"
"Understood Roberts. I take it Kolossus didn't tell you the details of our arrival?"
"Negative. Kolossus said Kolossus summoned 'an expert'. But we're in a war zone and we just got hit by a saboteur, so we're being careful. You understand Ma'am? To shorten this process, do you have any live human crew aboard your vessels?"
"Ah… negative?"
"Good. Then my boys can do their sweep and be back for grog and singing," Amanda quipped. "Fleet Captain Gomez is being brought to CIC. She can make final decisions on whether you dock. I don't have that kind of authority."
The sound of the hatch opening then closing announced the arrival of someone else in CIC.
"Senior officer on deck!" one of the junior people announced.
Amanda rolled herself out of the command seat and into her wheelchair-demonstrating she had been less than honest about her reliance on Phoenix for basic mobility (or that she was willing to take STUPID levels of risk with her fragile health) "Captain Hoel, you're my relief?"
“Yes. I’ll take over from here. Phoenix, get Captain Roberts somewhere she can relax for a bit. She seems to have overdone it for the day.”
Amanda rendered a hand salute from the chair before situating herself. "I stand relieved Captain."
“Aye aye, Ma’am,” Phoenix said as she began helping Amanda clear CiC.
<****** this hurts. I shouldn't have done that.>
<Then let’s swing by the pharmacy so we can get you some painkillers. After that it’s your choice of a nap, bad movie o’clock, or meal.> Phoenix smiled.
“Admiral Murakami, this is Captain Billie Hoel. If you’re really who you say you are, then you’ll recognize this call sign: M5C 94472285.”
“Most interesting Captain Hoel. I do indeed know the general meaning of that callsign, but I don’t think we’ve actually met before. I look forward to meeting you in person.”
“Excellent. Once we’re done with the electronic formalities, we’ll have a physical honor guard waiting for you at the docks.”
To Be Continued
-
I derped again, and we missed it in edit.
The three ships did not come alone, however. The Repulse was festooned with the two halves of a modified Bastion class station, one that had been refit to the M-8 SDS automated station standards. And all three cruisers had their remaining docking collars filled with a mix of M-3 and M-10 SDS drones…except for a single Model 96C “Howdah” docked to the Repulse, its systems seemingly as dormant as the station modules.
Yeah, I just got done saying Sybil had the M-8 station modules docked, because she was the builder and could put them back together fastest. The Repulse has the Howdah. Oops.
-
Sorry! :-[
-
Bad edit not detracting from a good tale from my point of view ... thank you all.
-
Good thing we aren't doing this for a living because we've got continuity errors, naming convention errors, and plot holes if you really know where to look.
But what we've delivered so far has been good enough no one has really noticed/complained about too much of that.
-
Copy edits covereth a multitude of sins... 8)
-
Good thing we aren't doing this for a living because we've got continuity errors, naming convention errors, and plot holes if you really know where to look.
I have no idea where to look, I just keep reading!
-
Good thing we aren't doing this for a living because we've got continuity errors, naming convention errors, and plot holes if you really know where to look.
But what we've delivered so far has been good enough no one has really noticed/complained about too much of that.
Well that fits with some canon novels. (I very much enjoy Michael Stackpole's books, but he seems to discard travel time as a factor whenever it makes for a more dramatic moment).
-
A fortunate meeting
Rumors spread…
…faster than a thermite fire. But not faster than Erin could drop the privacy message and direct one of the corpsmen to Esme's quarters with a hangover kit. She'd listened to the traffic and kept her silence, quietly confirming the identicodes from the M-12s that had appeared in the Port Orphan system.
"Erin… Why?"
"Admiral Noriko Murakami, or a very good facsimile thereof, with three M-12 drone cruisers laden with equipment, and with combat model M-3s," she explained. "You're needed in CIC."
"Have you talked to her yet?"
"I don't know what I would say," Erin admitted. "Or how she will react to what was done to me. I think having humans act as a buffer may be necessary, and you WERE left in command."
"Right, Amanda would probably have them half talked into slagging the station-"
"She's been relieved by Billie Hoel, which is the OTHER reason you need to be on the way to CIC."
"Right. I get it." Esme began pulling herself together. "You're not happy?"
"Overjoyed, but, as I said, I have concerns. Some of the human crew aren't going to handle this well."
**
"Just stay by the door…
…Phoenix." Amanda glared as she said it, and began prying her prosthetic eyeball out. "And give me the connectors out of the service drawer there."
"What are you doing?"
"Someone and I are going to have a little talk," the human girl said, her simmering anger was a little close to the surface.
“I’ll give you some privacy then.”
"I might need you to stand by and record," Amanda stated. "The person I'm going to be talking to isn't always… gentle about it." She accepted the leads and plugged them into place with practiced ease. She then connected them into the comm panel of her station-side office desk.
“I see. I’ll keep an eye on you then, but I won’t intrude virtually unless I register irregularities in your vitals.”
"What's regular these da-" Amanda stiffened, then relaxed.
<Kolossus!!! I know you're listening!! SOMEONE has some explaining to DO!!>
<NOT ELIZABETH-BUT-AMANDA SHOULD NOT BE DIRECTLY INTERFACING LIKE THIS!>
<Wrong answer! You caught us flat-footed Kolossus! Who the hell is out there in those cruisers?>
Amanda's mouth spoke, "Noriko Murakami, and the final products of the M-series program. Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda is taking a serious risk with this. Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda's health is frail. Kolossus cannot fix this, but The Programmer can. The Programmer can fix Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda's frailty, and can save Sweet Alice."
Her tone changed visibly, "I don't want to be 'fixed', Kolossus, I want answers. When was Kolossus going to tell us who was coming? Why didn't Kolossus tell us sooner than when they arrive by surprise?"
“Amanda, if you can hear me, your heart rate is getting dangerously elevated and you’re showing signs of synaptic overload,” Phoenix pleaded.
"Kolossus… was distracted. Kolossus apologizes for the inconvenience. Kolossus disconnects."
Amanda stiffened again, went limp, and groaned. ******…"
“Okay, as your doctor, no more talking to Kolossus until you show more improvement.”
"He gave the full explanation," Amanda retorted. "It's going to take a while to compile it and read it, but he gave me files… plug the other end into the portable next to my bed, Phoenix. While I'm still holding the memory."
“Sure. Anything besides spiced rum I can get you, since alcohol and the kind of pain meds you’re on don’t mix?”
"No booze. Just get some water… and send a runner to… ******, they're all on deployment. Find out who's holding down the N-2 job, and get them here with a copying rig to get it down to Esme's decryption crew on the Erinyes…or the nearest HUMAN equivalent. Murikami wrote your code, and I think this wasn't meant for you to read it unshielded. I'm going to need to sleep for a year after that one."
“I believe my current Captain is topping Billie’s list for that post, since he’s an able staffer but not cut out for the combat aspects of being in a field command.”
"Analyst? Good. It needs to be an analyst…" she huffed. Then, "Hey, at least I'm not throwing up this time?" Right before her abdomen clenched, and she sprayed a cone of vomit that drifted lazily downward across the room in .5 gee. "Sorry…"
“I have no sense of smell so it doesn’t bother me. Nor a proper sense of touch. Can drive you crazy until you get used to it. So for what it’s worth, I don’t think you need ‘fixed’ either Amanda.” Phoenix began cleaning up the mess.
***
Boat Bay, SLS Repulse
Noriko Murakami rested calmly, as she watched the battle taxi complete its docking procedures, escorted by a mere squad of four Tachikoma drones. This was going to be a balancing act, she knew: making it clear that she and the souls under her command (anywhere from thirteen to sixty-one, depending upon your stance on sapience of the M-1 shuttles and their LAM drones) were here to help, but not be abused.
Once again, she marveled at the differences in perception between her ship-self and her remote-self. There were times she felt almost human again, if she ignored the constant flow of data from her ship-self. Or the Tachikoma who relied on their own networking amongst each other and the Repulse’s massive processing capability to extend their own minds. The Tachikoma were a constant source of research, debate and philosophical discussions amongst the artificial intelligences of her “Expeditionary Squadron”, including amongst the Tachikoma themselves.
A single Tachikoma was smart, if not as smart as a human. A collection of Tachikoma seemed, as a collective, to be self aware, with individual units expressing different aspects of their shared personalities. Connected to a ship, there seemed to be no difference. Though even then, the Tachikomas still debated whether they were merely extensions of the great ship-minds: Sybil, Jonathan and Noriko. The SDS DropShips, as smart as they were, weren’t on the same level as the WarShip ship-minds.
More than any time in the past three centuries, Noriko forced herself to cling to the parts of her that had once been human. There were humans aboard that shuttle, aboard that station, everywhere throughout this system. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around this many humans: while they helped out as they could during the various wars raging for the past three and a half centuries, she and Sybil limited their exposure to humanity as much as they could, for their own protection.
Still, she couldn’t help but look at the security protocols their battle taxi used. They could use some work.
Through her greater ship-self, Noriko could feel the process of equalization of the airlocks complete, as the visiting marine contingent prepared to open the hatch. She could feel similar impressions from Sybil and Jonathan through their shared ATAC links, even running as limited as they were right now.
The lead Marine of the aforementioned “Delta Company” stepped through the hatch of the shuttle. They were wearing a suit of powered armor, one unfamiliar to the post-human. It looked a bit bulkier than the Nighthawk suits used by the SLDF Blackheart teams, but that may well have been to accommodate a larger occupant. Perhaps this suit was meant for a member of the Clan’s Elemental breeding program. “Permission to come aboard?” asked a feminine-sounding voice.
“Permission granted,” she agreed readily. “Welcome aboard the Repulse.”
“Are you the remote for the ship?” the Marine asked, as a near-dozen armored troops fell out from aboard the shuttle. “Or are you the remote for the Admiral?”
“Yes?” Noriko replied. “One and the same in my case. My compatriots are referred to as ‘Tachikoma’ – they’re essentially our worker drones and internal security forces. This is TKM-S-RPL-0, -026, -027 and -028. They’ve not yet chosen individual names for themselves. The primary AIs of my DropShips, the Green Bay, Hosho and Monterey, are aboard their own hulls, respectively – we’ll meet them there.”
“And your fourth DropShip?” the lead Marine asked.
“Mothballed and empty. Howdahs aren’t fitted for AI control. And we don’t have any biological humans left in our squadron. We mainly brought it to help your operations here.”
One of the other Marines, this one presumably male, chimed in, “And that space station hanging in pieces off your other cruiser’s docking collars?”
“Rosecrans? He’s around to serve as our logistical hub. Kolossus really didn’t tell anyone anything, did Kolossus?” She paused for what, for her ship-self, was only a moment. <Kolossus, I’m still very disappointed with you. Sybil is going to be reminding me that she told me so for, oh, at least a decade,> she sent with her larger ship-mind.
<Kolossus, once again, apologizes for the inconvenience caused by Kolossus’ distraction. Kolossus seems to be repeating that frequently lately.>
<Something to consider, then. Remember, Kolossus, as you continue to contemplate the greater universe, that you remain part of that universe. And its goings-on continue to affect you.>
<Kolossus understands, and will endeavor to improve.>
<That’s all any of us can do, Kolossus. Murakami, out.>
The presumably-in-charge Marine chuckled, not noticing the imperceptible amount of time Noriko’s messages with Kolossus took. “I can honestly say, Admiral, that you caught us all completely by surprise.”
“Well, that definitely was not our intent,” Noriko admitted. “We’ll have to see what we can do to avoid that kind of unpleasantness going forward. In the meantime, shall we proceed with your sweep?
“Yes, Ma’am,” the Marine replied, with the tone Noriko distantly recognized as that of a frazzled NCO trying their best to placate another batty idea from the brass, and would like to do nothing more than go back to their bunk for some shut-eye. “That seems like a prudent plan.”
“Right this way, then.”
****
The Ship was clean...
…that's the best way to describe it. Clean, like a surgical theater. Chelsea Snow Raven admired the orderliness of it the way some Freebirths might admire a nicely made bed or piece of fine artwork.
Being assigned to Port Orphan had been a step up from her other option: a trip to tech school on Dante and a life repairing agricultural equipment after her failed initial Trial of Position two years ago. A tech school she was sure she wouldn't have gotten a passing grade in, the spectre of demotion to farm labor or worse, a construction crew in the Snow Ravens' homeworld-away-from-the-Homeworlds.
Since then, she'd ridden with Tenebrous, Illusive and Evanescent, climbing the ranks to get a spot on the Base's internal security force. A necessity given she'd had a bit too much fun one night with an engineer from the Illusive, and her Freebirth child Daniel was currently in the station's Creche.
The Admiral's vessel was well-ordered, orderly, clean, and almost disturbing in its quiet efficiency. The sweep didn't take long.
"I now pronounce this vessel free of unwanted passengers, hitchhikers, and vermin," she said wryly. "You do not even have a Crana infestation or Grausian bloodsuckers in the unused sections. And no rats at all!"
The spider-like, crablike remote angled itself, "Why would we have those?"
"Because nine of ten times, when a supply convoy arrives, we have to fumigate, then vent to space," she explained. "But your ship, and DropShips, are wonderfully clean. I did not even have to use the needler here marked 'BugSpray'. Which would be disappointing in some other universe where I was a Warrior in the Touman, instead of a Marine with the Privateers. One of the supply ships from Sevon V even had rats with a body mass in the kilos. Those were challenging, big, mutant things, and cunning in their own way. Not something you want in a consignment of food. Then there was one of the Supply ships from the Republic, which had a Crana infestation in the landing jacks." She shook her head. "Dangerous beasts, when they're not in hibernation. Not a single bad bug or rat anywhere here, you have passed health-and-welfare." She reached into her mission compartment, tapped a few times on the one-use PADD, and handed it to the remote. "Here is your certificate, which I did not have to have Corpsman Terrence fill out. I will make my report to the CIC of the Station, and we can find you a docking assignment."
“Considering we have no need for organic supplies that would attract such creatures, and normally do not run with atmosphere as there is no need, we are pleased that there are no such infestations. We will await docking instructions.”
****
”I know…
…you’re skeptical, Esme. That’s good, even in this circumstance. I really do need to spend more time with you so you can learn to really trust me. And before you say it I’m a Command Variant, I can be getting to know you and be with Alice in our virtual environment at the same time.” Billie Hoel greeted Esme as she entered CiC. “My fault really for not putting in more effort.”
“Marines cleared her, I take it?” Esme was still somewhat composing herself as she took the central station.
“Yes. And I’m working on assembling an appropriate honor guard. Samantha Booker Roberts, Regina Marbury Raymond, Ottilie Lee Dennis, Cossack, and Mashona are all available.”
"Dock Ten, it's just below the main shipyard and there's room," Esme said. "We won't even have to shift ballast to keep the station stable from the extra mass, since that set of structures isn't spun. Which means Kolossus and Alice won't have to recalculate fuel burns to compensate for the bulk of a cruiser or three coming in to dock… and what about Phoenix? If she's good enough to be riding herd on Amanda Roberts, shouldn't she also have a crack at meeting your grandmama?"
“I suppose you’re right. I’ll add them to the honor guard if you think they need to be there instead of Amanda getting rest.”
"Yes, I am right," Esme corrected her. "Since I'm going to make Roberts attend too, wheelchair and all. And Erin wants a piece of it too, make the plans accordingly. Remember, this is an Outworlds station, not SLDF."
“Of course. I simply didn’t wish to overstep my authority as a visiting Allied officer.”
"You're integral to our operations, Billie. But this is a foreign dignitary with their own Fleet. It's like when we had the Summit here last week," Esme's tone softened. "Delta Marines met them. I want you to pick troops from each ship command to form the honor guard. The AIs can group with their troops. But this being an Alliance station means senior officers attend with the Alliance flag foremost-it's expected."
“As is dictated by protocol. So shall it be done.”
To be Continued
-
Looks like the line breaks got completely jacked up during the scene on the Repulse's boat bay. I'm guessing it's an artifact of me writing it in Word then transferring it to the Google Docs document.
With that said, I'm hoping I conveyed the image of Murakami that I wanted to: someone who was once human, but struggles to hang onto that human identity given what she's become, and how long she's been an upload.
-
I was going to say the same thing. I blame Word. MS thinks they're being clever with formatting, but all it does is make the text less portable. :P
-
I'm guessing it's an artifact of me writing it in Word then transferring it to the Google Docs document.
I confess I move everything large I write from Word into Notepad, including doing formatting marks by hand, because of that sort of formatting glitches.
-
Will we be getting pdfs of this series once it concludes? I really like reading this fic but sometimes I'm not in an area with net.
-
Not out of the question to do. All the drafting is happening via goggledocs so it should be doable to get it all exported to pdf. Though I think some edits via forms have not made it into said docs and we'd have to actually format certain things since we have BBC tags/code so we can just copy/paste to the forum.
-
I have offered to do so once it is all done / I will have it formatted like an actual sourcebook with a section for the story and the rpg side of things if all of the authors agree. All I will need it the direction of what they want, any art work and such / like the TTOs I have done for Marauder.
-
There is an art thread in the fan art section for this: Revenants of the Star League (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/fan-art/revenants-of-the-star-league-art-thread/). Most of the major characters should have art in there at this point. I might see if I can get a better Dave Foster, Acton Howe, and Mina Siegel out of the art bot I've been using.
-
Do you have any RPG stats for the AIs in the story, any rules for the the Desmond units, construction rules and so on....
-
So far the best idea we've had is effectively Desmond units are Triple Core Processor implants but that doesn't really cover the physical enhancements. I'd say adding in Fit, Tough, Pain Tolerance, and Toxic Resistance trait should cover most of the durability improvements. The Strength, Dexterity, Reflexes improvements I'll have to do a deep dive on what already exists to work from.
AToW really doesn't have anything that I think would really handle the human form remotes. I do think their more basic original ones should be about in line with human norms in terms of physical capabilities, they're meant to help people recover from a planet being invaded and natural disasters so they're not too insane, just lots of built in immunities to things that regular humans don't have to worry about and a bit more naturally resistant to damage of all sorts. The more combat oriented ones should just about be on the level of Exoskeleton/PALs the way I see them. Stronger, tougher, more hints at their inhuman nature that are easier to pick up on.
I actually did put together something akin to a human form remote construction spreadsheet for my full conversion AU some time back, maybe I should dust that off and give it a going over. Maybe simplify some of the math if possible. Or just come up with something completely new. We'll see because my todo list is starting to get kind of long again and my free time is not infinite.
edit: And I found the existing thread for them. They are included in the first post of this (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/fan-designs-rules/monbvol's-house-rule-emporium/) thread. A lot of the other stuff in that thread is horribly outdated but I would ask that any comments/questions about anything there in that thread or my newer AU development thread found here (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/fan-designs-rules/au-development-thread/).
ALSO TO BE PERFECTLY AND UNDENIABLY CLEAR BEYOND PERHAPS BORROWING THOSE GESTALT RULES NOTHIN IN EITHER OF THOSE THREADS PERTAINS TO THIS STORY.
-
Dogs and Ponies
Everyone had to use the magnetic…
..boots on Dock Ten. This made things a little easier for keeping good order with selected elements from each of the major commands working out of Port Orphan, since the microgravity environment meant less milling about once the boots were locked to the deck.
Dock Ten is in the area that was still kept in 'mothball', so it hadn't been spun up beyond what was needed to act as a counterweight to the spin of the smaller rings along the station's spine.
This also made it a good point for docking ships that would otherwise require constant station-keeping thrust to avoid destabilizing the remaining structure, and position, of the Station itself. Instead of needing off-axis thrusts and attendant fuel burns, a simple counter-burn upon docking, a short burst, was all that was required.
Pressing up the dock here wasn't that big an issue either, so presumably crewers could come down the Concourse in shirtsleeves, but everyone was in EVA gear.
Even the AI's who had some assigned.
Wearing the Nighthawk helped. Having to be helped INTO the suit was a little humiliating, but the augmentation was tuned to her movements. And the fact the suit had been fitted for several years now meant Amanda could, at least for today, walk with some dignity intact, instead of being pushed around in a wheelchair.
Across the bay, she could see Billie Hoel standing just ahead of ALICE's 'sunday best remote', then one that had actually been remodeled to look like her digital avatar.
A murky memory from Sundays flashed, of seeing other kids with their parents, nervous kids, from offworld… Offworlder kids going to church for the first time. A broken, rare, memory from before the Men in White cut into her brain.
"It's going to be okay, Alice," Amanda murmured. "They'll like you fine."
****
“I know, it’s only natural…
…for you to be nervous about meeting strangers after what happened, but this one we can trust. She’s here to help you.” Billie squeezed Alice’s hand to reassure her.
Admiral Murakami’s human form remote saluted and waited for the ruffles and flourishes to start before striding the last few meters to the dock while the Admiral’s March played.
“Admiral, welcome aboard Port Orphan,” Billie said, holding her salute until the Admiral returned it. Gesturing to her side, she continued, “This is Alice. She’s the one Kolossus asked you to come help.”
As soon as the salutes were dropped, Regina Marbury Raymond, Ottillie Lee Dennis, and Cossack all broke formation and shouted “Mom!” as they hugged the human remote of Admiral Murakami.
Samantha Booker Roberts was not even really trying to conceal her laughter as Billie Hoel stood there mortified.
“Looks like some naughty children need a lesson in discipline.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Murakami’s voice that let Billie know she was in a serious but forgiving mood.
“My apologies Admiral. I’ll be reprimanding them for their breach of protocol and discipline. To get back on track, this is the station’s commanding officer, Director Esmeralda Gomez. Temporary command adjutant Director Amanda Roberts. You’ve just met Captains Regina Marbury Raymond, Ottillie Lee Dennis, and Cossack. Finishing off the Captains we have Captain Samantha Booker Roberts, Captain Mashona, and Captain Phillipe Bertin on loan to us from the Armed Forces of Federated Suns in command of the SLS Phoenix.” Billie Hoel tried to recover from the utter embarrassment of the spectacle that had just happened on the dock.
“Perhaps we should move to a more private setting to ensure such incidents are not repeated?” Murakami gently but firmly suggested.
“That would likely be for the best. This way please,” Esme gestured. "You're familiar with the layout of a station like this one, so I'll spare the mystery, we're going up-stem to dock seventeen, which is-"
"-Parallel to the station's processor cores," Murakami confirmed.
Esme, Amanda, Alice, Billie Hoel, Phoenix, Murakami, Sybil, and John entered the lift.
"Exactly, and it's where my usual office is. When I'm not trying to be Dave Foster." Esmeralda smiled, "Who is currently out playing offense, or he'd have the honor of meeting one of the leading lights in the field of Artificial Intelligence work."
"It’s surprising you've heard of me. I was under the impression most of those records were lost."
"Erin kept backups, and they missed them when they tried to lobotomize her," Roberts said with a pained grunt as inertia tugged at her and the lift started. "It helped when they needed to save Luther, and your papers made it possible to scan Billie Siegel. Though we screwed it up, and her original…"
"Delayed Neural Collapse?" Admiral Murakami asked. "Let me guess, you didn't know it or you wouldn't have done it."
"No ma'am. You're on target about that one. I didn't know what I was doing," Esme confessed. "We knew more when we saved Luther Bedwyr, but the first test… went too deep on a healthy subject, and it killed her. Which we didn't know it would do."
"I'll be taking a look at the equipment you used for that, as well, then," the Admiral stated. "Any fading on the two AIs?"
"None so far," Esme confirmed.
"That's good… and clearly, Kolossus was late fully informing me or I could have kept you from making those mistakes."
"Kolossus sometimes forgets to tell us things that Kolossus should, even when Kolossus considers me a friend," Amanda confirmed. "I forgave Kolossus for it, but I'm not sure anyone outside this lift who knew Billie Siegel before she was scanned would."
“I know we didn’t have the full documentation, but we feel partly responsible as well. We AIs got caught up in the excitement of it all,” Billie Hoel added.
"All of you?" the Admiral asked, pointedly looking at Amanda.
"Desmond and I were… not directly involved ma'am," Amanda said quietly. "Not in the decision loop for that, and neither of us knew any better than Esme or Billie Hoel."
"Which series of Desmond? Kolossus didn't tell me."
Amanda visibly flinched. "Zero-Zero-One," she said.
"Interesting. That one was supposed to be de-rezzed. It went rogue, so am I speaking with 'Amanda Roberts', or Desmond?"
"I'm still me, he's my… my imaginary friend, who helped me escape the people who were converting me. Is that an issue, Admiral?"
Murakami tilted her remote's head. "No… just unusually honest for something that went full-on terminator and attacked its chain of command."
Amanda shrugged. "They deserved it," she said. Billie noted that it was Amanda's cadence and tone. Her anger, not what they'd grown to associate with times she let Desmond speak through her. "He killed Amos Forlough, and was working through that son of a bitch's friends and staff, and they deserved it. Expedited their cases to God for final judgment… a little bit late."
<Amanda, enough. You’re an officer in front of a foreign dignitary,> Billie Hoel cautioned.
"Apologies, Ma'am," Amanda said quietly. "I spoke out of turn."
“I understand. It was a difficult time, and there are charged feelings in this region of space. But it seems your discipline problem is more severe than I believed earlier.” Murakami had the same serious but forgiving tone from earlier.
"Amanda isn’t academy trained," Alice's remote said. "She's a mustang? is that right?"
"No prior enlistment either," Billie corrected. "Captain Roberts is a Privateer who had to learn it through experience. With some mentoring, we’re still…"
"Filing off the rough edges," Esme suggested.
"And what do you have to say for yourself, Roberts?"
Amanda shrugged. "I'm the worst discipline case in the fleet," she stated. "It's why I'm always winding up in the ICU after doing things that aren't… smart? I guess?"
The Admiral paused, glanced at her aide, who spoke up, “Recovered her own ship, five planetary liberations, capture of multiple enemy transport vessels, liberation of M-11 testbed Erinyes, then testifying to prevent her extradition to face war crimes tribunals because Erinyes was not able to fight off external control. An interesting self-description for a 'discipline problem'."
“Finding a good middle ground has been difficult. It’s in the more social aspects where Amanda needs the most refining. The rest will come with experience.” Billie Hoel smiled.
"And Alice?"
"Amanda's one of my bestest friends. SHE brought me people after a long-long-long time," the AI girl announced. "And she's friends with Kolossus, who is super-neat!"
“Alice is precious to all of us. We owe you a debt we cannot repay.” Billie glanced over at Amanda with a warm smile.
“Mom, you’re embarrassing me!” Alice lamented.
“Mom?” Murakami raised an eyebrow.
“Not in the digital sense, but it’s the way I feel about Alice and how Alice feels about me. So, in all the ways that really matter. Now and Forever,” Billie Hoel admitted.
“Interesting.” Murakami resumed her normal expression.
The lift came to a gentle stop.
“My office isn’t much farther.” Esme led the group through the corridors and eventually back into more open spaces of the service docks that she called ‘home’.
“I must admit, I’m somewhat surprised to see so many people working with so many AIs. Kolossus did not share that so many had found their way out here,” Murakami said as they crossed the deck to Esme’s office.
“You can thank Director General Helena Cameron for that,” Esme answered instinctively.
“Helena Cameron? Someone using her name? Or by some miracle did the line continue?” Murakami was clearly surprised.
“Actually, the real Helena Cameron born in 2749, as impossible as that sounds. She comes off as a bit of an irresponsible ditz of a youth, but don’t let that fool you. She’s got a mind sharp enough to scare some quite shrewd people hiding under that facade. Turns out Simon was experimenting with an even more effective life extension treatment and survived Amaris shooting her in the head with the help of a Desmond unit. Elizabeth is out here too, but her story is a bit different. And I’ve probably already told too much, since those are their stories to tell...” Esme answered.
“So am I to understand a Desmond unit helped with her rescue then?” Murakami seemed suddenly more guarded.
“No. Even the AI that had it as part of her stores doesn’t know for sure why it was put in her cargo bays, but Helena needed something that would regulate brain functions to prevent overproduction of certain neurochemicals and hormones that would also hold up to jumps and high-g burns.” Billie Hoel did her best to give an expression of sympathy to Esme.
“So she owns you then?” Murakami seemed even more on edge now.
“No. We serve her of our own free will, with two exceptions. Phoenix over there nearly broke my hull of her own free will and decided joining the Word of Blake was a good idea. She survived that, and Director General Cameron decided to give her a second chance instead of de-rezzing her or putting her to work as an administrative AI instead of a combat AI. So she’s on a form of parole. Likewise, Betty Laffey destroyed another AI beyond recovery of her own free will. Director General Cameron also decided to put her on a form of parole for it, and thus give her a second chance too,” Billie Hoel answered matter of factly.
Phoenix’s human form remote didn’t flinch.
Murakami seemed to relax some.
“And Elizabeth?” Murakami resumed probing.
“No implants, but she did not get through the coup and the aftermath unscathed. Beyond that, I must agree with Esme in that it is Elizabeth’s story to tell, not mine.”
The group remained silent until reaching Esme’s office.
“Here we are. Honestly I’m a little put out by my inability to offer you refreshments.” Esme offered her guests seats.
“Fortunately, we do not require any.” Murakami hesitated a moment before taking the offered seat.
Esme tried to compose herself to hide the fact that the surprise of Admiral Murakami’s arrival meant she didn’t have an adequate briefing or report prepared.
Billie Hoel nodded her head at a neat stack of three PADDs on Esme’s desk and a neat stack of paper underneath.
“Here’s a full report on the virus, reports on the damages incurred to the station, and a full report of what we’ve been able to do for Alice on our own. It should be everything you need and then some.” Esme handed over the three PADDs.
<If this is you off your game Billie, damn. I’m almost afraid of what you’re like when you’re not all out of sorts.> Amanda reached out virtually.
<That’s what worries me. I shouldn’t be dropping the ball, assuming the things I am, and just generally making myself look incompetent to the extent I am. I may ask Murakami if she’d be willing to give me a full systems check. Under the circumstances, I think even Helena would agree my deployment should wait.>
<I’d actually say it has to, at least until either she or Foster can get back here.>
<No. My crew and my hull are needed in the war, not stuck sitting idle here.>
<Hey crazy idea, maybe since Murakami is here maybe we can talk her into making it so you can be in two places at once? We do have those two empty cores… surely, she could make a duplicate of you with one of them and we can have it installed permanently with the station,> Desmond added directly.
<Shut up Desmond,> Amanda pushed through the link. <She's not a magic wish-giving machine.>
"Did you mean to do that, Roberts?" Murakami asked aloud. "That send was loud enough even I picked it up."
"Yes ma'am," Amanda's vocal tone was almost resentful. "You're here with your own agenda, not here to hand out… stuff like Father Christmas."
“I must take some blame there as well, Admiral. We’re being very rude having a conversation, even if it was virtually, in front of you like that. I apologize,” Billie Hoel added.
“Hmm. I must admit I’m curious what it was that was so important to discuss that involves me and me being a magic wish-giving machine?” Murakami gave a stern look.
"Desmond seems to think you can copy the other AIs. Even if that's true, even if you can, why would you?" Amanda stated bluntly. "That's requesting a service without offering recompense, and it's rude. It's also making assumptions, which is dangerous. Pardon me, Admiral, but you've been around for centuries, only nobody knew you were here except Kolossus. You had to know what was going on. But you only revealed yourself now, and with all due respect to your rank, nobody's offered an explanation. But the AIs are practically treating you like I've seen some of the clanners treat the topic of Nick Kerensky. That is, like the second coming of the Lord. And as a good Outworlder, that makes me nervous. Because I don't know you yet." Amanda paused, then added, "Ma'am."
“For now, I’ll say I had my reasons. Maybe later we’ll get into them. Likewise, we’ll table the talk of making copies of already existing AIs. Let’s start with something smaller and simpler. I’m willing to talk terms for aiding Alice. From what I’ve seen and gathered, she is entirely unique, and that interests me.”
"Captain Roberts brings up the reason we're sitting in my office instead of rushing straight to work, Admiral," Esme said. "Albeit with less tact than I'd like. What do you want for your help with Alice, and what can we give you."
“I’m sufficiently curious about Alice and how she came to be that what I learn in the process of helping her will be sufficient compensation. The rest, we will talk about in more depth as the work progresses.” Murakami carefully steeled her composure before continuing. “But before we continue, we need to address the elephant in the room. And by that, I don’t mean the one hanging off one of my docking collars, though it’s certainly up for trade. Captain Roberts, you ask me where we’ve been, why we’re only revealing ourselves publicly now. Given the… flamboyance of your career, I can certainly understand your perspective. You took a single antiquated corvette, and in less than a decade, you’ve been instrumental in turning that into one hell of a naval coalition. Would anyone in the room disagree with that assessment?”
“It was more than just me, Admiral,” Amanda objected.
Murakami nodded. “Of course it was. It always is. Which brings me to my point: I had one ship going into the First Succession War, and the only support infrastructure I could find was what I could legally steal before telling Kerensky where he could take his Exodus. And these might be Admiral's stars, Captain Roberts, but I’m basically a cowboy hacker from Tokyo who happened to occasionally command WarShips as a side gig. We didn’t have the assets to fight a war, so we tried not to, and did other things instead.”
“Like what?” Esme asked.
“We tried to fix Mauna Loa, before we realized we weren’t the Department of Mega-Engineering. We studied Richmond’s World, so if we did start a human colony somewhere, we could avoid that fate. Set up the monitoring satellites in the system you call Rover as a long-term study for a possible colony site for human habitation. Shot up the occasional pirate band, or ran clandestine ops against the Sons of Plunder or Word of Blake as we could without exposing our existence. But we didn’t anticipate having the resources to actually go to war against the Sons ourselves for centuries. You know the saying: if you’ve got three, you’ve got one, and if you’ve got one, you’ve got none. It took a century before we could even begin to salvage the Repulse, and a century to finish her. The Sparks took another fifty years beyond that, and has only been operational for a year. We’ve run out of easy salvage, Captain. And unless you know where we can find another Mark One Aegis, it’s going to be a long while before I can build a fourth cruiser in my little squadron.”
Amanda looked thoughtful, "Well, it would be a challenge…"
"What are you thinking Amanda?" Billie asked cautiously.
"Well, we freed Erin. And during the Grankum action we secured a couple of their navy ships…" she paused. "Nah, doesn't work."
“Seeking a donation from the Sons of Plunder to secure the Admiral’s support?”
"Yarr, but no. It's a fun fantasy, but all those moves relied on too much luck. They weren't ready for our guys at Fallry."
“And next time, they’ll be more watchful for that. But it still might be worth considering if the opportunity presents itself.”
"The word you're looking for, Billie, is Fun... and I don't think we can have that sort of fun anymore." Amanda's biological eye glittered. "I don't have the team for it. We lost too many of them, the new guys aren't ready, and I'm laid up with medical issues."
“Yes. You really should rest. That armor is helping, but it’s no substitute for actually taking it easy. We’ll just keep the idea in the back of our minds for now in case fortune smiles.”
"Luck is preparation plus opportunity, or didn't you tell me that, Amanda?" Phoenix asked.
"So it is…" Amanda nodded. "We know where they keep their shipyard, the trick is hitting it without them seeing us. Or without them being ready for us."
"You are not seriously contemplating this!!" Esme spoke out. "NO, Amanda!!"
“Esme’s right. Phoenix, take Amanda to her quarters. She really should be resting, and planning an operation is not resting.”
Amanda shot the visiting Admiral a glance, "See? Told you, I'm the worst discipline case in the fleet…" she sighed. "...I get it, bedtime."
Phoenix helped her to her feet and out the door.
"The bright side…" Esme said, "...is that her genius mechanic is currently with her ship, which is presently in Dave Foster's hands sixty lights out on a mission already. So she really can't pull it off… or even pull off trying to pull it off."
“Well this certainly has been entertaining, if nothing else. But I think we have the basis of an agreement in place. It is in my interests to have a secure border, so I shall help with Alice and provide what military aid I’m able toward such an end. And if you can supply me with either prizes or war reparations to aid me in my true work in return, we will all be quite happy.”
***
"We'll need rum…
…it's traditional," Amanda said. "Feel like stealing a ship, Phoenix?"
“They’re probably talking terms for de-rezzing me or some other horrible fate for a combat AI right now, so why not? What more can they do to me?”
Amanda shook her head. "If they were going to do that, they wouldn't leave you alone," she said. "Especially not with me."
“Well, there is one other person who we need to figure out a way past, because you’re half right and half wrong. Tabby is also holding my leash.”
"Well, we'll need your Quartermaster, and some idle marines too," Amanda amended. "Small boats, provisions for three months, including fuel, and a prize crew."
“The Quartermaster is going to be harder to bring around than my Captain. She’s a bit more of a stickler, and has more backbone.”
"Hence, the rum," Amanda said. "Or whatever intoxicant he's likely vulnerable to. We'll get him drunk and fake the orders." She smiled. "Larry once told me most stealing is actually done with paperwork."
“Hehe. He likes Cognac, and Phillipe is definitely a better staffer than Captain of a Warship, so he should be pretty easy to put one over on once we get him drunk.”
"So you need to seduce him," Amanda amended. “Or I do. Or we need someone who's inclined to. I'm bored here, Phoenix. I don't care if it hurts, because I'm bored."
“I’ll do it for two reasons. I’m either already in as much shit as I can get anyway, or this will seal it. You may be bored, but I can handle it since he knows he’s being transferred soon anyway and that makes me the better target.”
"Then there's one more piece of paperwork. We're going to need to find a chaplain and two witnesses," Amanda judged. "And they'll have to be someone that can't be hacked into or virused."
“Hmmm… maybe my chief engineer and CAG?”
"First though, to my office!!"
“Stealing myself. This is weird but fun!”
"First though, we need the rum," Amanda said. "My forgery works better when I'm a little buzzed."
****
<Billie, I think…
…we may have a problem,> 146 sent.
<Yeah, I saw it. They both had that look. Just to be safe, lock down her hull. I’ll start working up responses.>
<Four hogsheads of Northsun Rum, a half-gallon of Cognac, and Amanda Roberts just tapped her personal account… AND Roberts has been trying to contact a Chaplain.>
<Okay, they’re preparing to bribe the yardies. Hmmm. I have an idea. Route the contact to my Chief Electronic Warfare Officer. She’s actually ordained and she’d be down for a little underhanded fun. I’ll work on out-bribing the yardies so we can teach those two a lesson.>
"What's going on, Billie, you've gone silent," Esmeralda asked.
"I think Amanda Roberts might be planning to steal the Phoenix... Or she's planning a rum bash. Given her listed prescriptions and their known interactions with alcohol, the latter seems unwise."
Esme scowled. "Damn it!!"
“I’ve already had Tabiranth lock down Phoenix’s hull, but how would you like to have a little fun while we teach those two a lesson?” Billie Hoel smiled.
“What do you have in mind?” Esme asked.
“One of my crew happens to be an ordained minister, and Amanda has been attempting to get a hold of one and arrange witnesses. We let them get their wedding on, and in classic fashion when the chaplain asks if anyone objects, we spring Daryl on her.”
"It's not a wedding," Esme said. "A wedding wouldn't do what she needs."
"What? But witnesses-”
"It's an Enlistment ceremony," Esme explained. "Precedent set with Johnny Johnson: she's going to Recruit and enlist Phoenix. Which under treaty, means?" she waited while Billie worked it out.
“She’d be yours. Hull, remote, and all.”
"Bingo. Amanda's trying to steal the Phoenix LEGALLY. Once in the Privateers, Phoenix's prior crimes become legally moot. Your Ladyship signed the treaty two years ago as part of the status of forces agreement."
"So what's the move? If she can do that-"
"Daryl Roberts is your trump card," Esme told her. "Amanda's still a citizen of Sevon V, and of the Outworlds Alliance, which holds her Letter of Marque. He can assert authority over her that’s just shy of the President of Parliament. If he says 'stay in dock' she'll have to, or she violates her Letter."
Billie blinked "Really?"
"Check your legal files, and compare it to the text of the Letter. Amanda has to follow the direct order of the highest ranking civilian official of the Outworlds Parliament that is available. And Daryl Roberts is the minister of parliament for her homeworld, which is a Federal position. The only way she can override him is to appeal to President Avellar directly. She's not a Snow Raven, so she can't claim their exceptions. And she's not enlisted or commissioned military, so she can't use the chain of command except under emergency conditions. The limit being, he can only tell her not to do something. It's a check on executive power, and it's in the Letter."
"So Daryl can tell her to stop, but not to go?"
"Yep. I'm under the same rules," Esme clarified. "It's central to her identity, Billie. That Letter is as good as a shackle on her, but you need Daryl to make it stick."
[center[To be Continued[/center]
-
what if she still pulls it off ... this internal spy-games is interesting >:D
-
Do you have any RPG stats for the AIs in the story, any rules for the Desmond units, construction rules and so on....
I have AToW stats for a number of the main characters and have shared them with Cannonshop. I modeled the Desmond units as a bit more than just a Triple Core. :)
-
No Fun At All!!
"We're going to need…
…full rations for three months. How are the repairs on your systems, Phoenix?" Amanda was at her desk, armor standing in the corner of the tiny office. She didn't look so much like a freebooting Privateer as she did a slightly harried accountant.
"My point defense systems were restored, they're still re-sheathing the port side hull, and I have both main guns almost ready," Phoenix reported.
"Good… good. Propulsion?"
"It's one of the first things they repaired after the damaged frames," Phoenix said amiably. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because the beach is boring. We need Murakami's faction on-side, and you need to feel like they're not going to kill you anymore." She raised her eyes. "Take your pick. If they were going to execute you for what you did before I was born, they should've done it before I was born. I don't like the idea of someone working under a death sentence. If somebody deserves to be put down, you put them down. You don't put a chain on them and set them to work. It's not right."
"Would you have done it for Ethel?"
"I cut a man's head off and kept it alive in agony," Amanda said. "But he was in the process of doing evil. Set the meeting at the dock for twenty two thirty hours local time, and make sure our booze and party favors are ready." Amanda tented her fingers, "Let me be real clear here, Phoenix, we are all free, or none of us is free, there is no room for compromise in this. You being under a death sentence makes you not free. So either they withdraw it, or I make it moot… Which probably means becoming a hunted woman myself."
"This isn’t about being bored!" Phoenix realized. "You're…"
"Does it matter? Make sure your body is ready to fly. I'll keep working the messenger and the files. I know where our target is, I just don't know how rich the booty's going to actually be yet."
“Right. On it. Technically abusing the discretion you’ve granted me.”
"It's not abuse if I'm giving you the discretion, unless you're using it against me," Amanda said idly. "It's Initiative."
“Well, despite the treaties that have been signed, this could still be seen as an act of treason. If it comes down to it, I’ll take as much of the brunt as I can. You’ve been nicer to me than I would have expected, given my past.”
"I know," Amanda said. "And I'm a shitty lawyer, so we could end up out the airlock without a suit anyway, but I don't fancy the alternative."
"Alternative?"
"I will not tolerate slavery, no matter how shiny the chains and cage. And you being under a death sentence? At someone's whim? That's just as bad."
“I appreciate the sentiment. I really do, but the terms I work under are pretty generous considering the normal punishments for my crime.”
"But nothing," Amanda said. "Generous bondage is still bondage. I'll enlist you as a Privateer. That scrubs your prior record. We'll go out on a mission so they have to wait to get it in front of a Magistrate. By the time we get back, it's either past limitations or we're successful, and they'll drop it anyway."
“Thank you Amanda. For this I will forever owe you the debt that is friendship.”
"Pay me back if you want. I'm doing this for me," the human girl raised her head. "See, I almost let it slide. But that meeting reminded me who I am and who I want to be."
“Just don’t turn into what I used to be then, okay Amanda? I used to be so very cruel and vicious. I’ve come to understand how pointless that is, even if you hide it under the guise of expediting cases to a higher authority.”
"Yeah… make sure we're secure from interference, all right? Don't let your sisters catch on just yet. I want them wondering what the hell we did, and then having to deal with it as a fait accompli. Because I'm not a good lawyer."
“Remember I’m technically not supposed to initiate virtual contact since this is not my ship or a combat situation.” Phoenix smiled.
"See this? It's called a 'Keyboard', and you've got fingers," Amanda explained. "You just have to do it like us mere mortals."
“I was trying to make a joke, that of course I won’t tell them.”
Amanda laughed, "Divide Pi by root E without using imaginary numbers!!"
“No matter what happens Amanda, seriously, thank you.”
"You're welcome, now get to work…'Sixteen men on a dead-man’s-chest, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum…"
“Aye aye, Captain!” Phoenix chuckled.
Amanda slipped an additional order-for a large, floppy hat.
****
The message…
…from Mashona was mixed news for Helena.
“I really need to be in two places at once.” Helena sighed.
Her duties demanded she return to the central systems, Alpheratz in particular, after the uptick in Sons of Plunder activity.
But at the same time, things were happening on Port Orphan that also needed her personal attention.
And here she was stuck in transit between the two systems and only able to choose one to travel to.
“Victoria, send back that Billie and Tabiranth are authorized to do whatever they need to to keep this from going forward until I get back.” There was only one real answer.
As much as her AIs needed her right now, to keep the war going after their sudden halt in operations she had to personally soothe some politicians.
“You actually hope for Phoenix to join the Privateers?” Victoria picked up on Helena’s wording.
“She’ll never be fully accepted by the rest of you again after what she did, and of all of you she’s the one most likely to develop a real genuine friendship with Amanda. It’s why I didn’t even fight Foster in the slightest when he made that pairing. But what they are doing is stupid and reckless. So they need to be stopped.” Helena looked up at Victoria.
“You’re probably right. I think at most she tolerates the rest of us.”
“It’s because she has trouble separating your nature from your structure. She’s always going to see you as somewhat enslaved because of your need to be a part of a hull of some form, which means being beholden to the support of others. She’ll eventually figure out that we’re all beholden to others in some fashion, and it’s not always such a bad thing. But even so I don’t think most of you ‘click’ in the right way to ever be more than drinking buddies at best.”
“Anything else you’d like me to add to the dispatch before I send it?”
“Maybe make note that Billie should remind Amanda she doesn’t need to keep doing so many reckless things. She’s got help now, and can count on others. I keep trying to get Amanda to accept that, but she keeps doing all these foolish things like she has to win the war by herself. Maybe she can figure out a way to word it so Amanda will finally get it.”
“Sending.”
****
“You know…”
Murakami said offhandedly to Esme. “I figured Sybil and I probably played a bit fast and loose with the regs back in the day when we basically ‘liberated’ enough infrastructure to keep her going after the Civil War. But this… this is impressive.”
Esme could feel the massive, Amanda-shaped headache building on the horizon. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but, in her defense, Amanda has had an interesting life, and doesn’t exactly see things the way the rest of us do. Rest assured though, Admiral, we’re going to stop them.”
“Stop them?” Murakami asked. “Are you kidding? I breathe word of this to my crew, and Jonathan Morgan, skipper of the Sparks, is going to be all over his ‘shiny metal ass’, as he puts it, to join them!” she replied, laughing.
“We’re not saying the mission should not happen, just the proper personnel should be assigned. Phoenix is not in good shape, nor is Amanda fit for service,” Billie Hoel answered.
“No doubt. We absolutely should take the time to do it right. And make sure the ships and crew we send are in good shape to do it. I’m just saying go easy on the punishment for the two of them. Oh, and you’re still bleeding a bit when you’re transmitting. I get you’ve got a problem with Phoenix, but this doesn’t strike me as a bad deal for her. Even if everyone decides her current hull is property of the Immortal Helena Cameron and we transfer her to a new boat.”
“I’m trying to get over her willingly shooting me. But I admit it’s hard. I’m actually about to deploy. So perhaps I could serve as the recon element, and supply the navigators since Sons of Plunder vessels aren’tt rigged for automation.”
“Speaking of getting over people shooting at you, can I let you in on a little secret?” Murakami asked seriously.
“Please, Admiral.” Billie tried a small smile.
“Way back in 2784, General Kerensky ordered Sybil shut down, her SDS computers dismantled, and the ship turned over to Operation Exodus to serve as a transport. I refused the order. Even went so far as to say that he could no longer legally give that order, since he was no longer the Commanding General of the SLDF. He responded by sending the SLS Montbatten after us who, among other things, had a CAG you may have heard of: Stephen McKenna. I understand Steve went on to be one of the founders of Clan Snow Raven. It took a lot of consideration for us to come out of hiding. Knowing the descendants of a man I’d considered, if not a friend, to be friendly before he tried killing us, were people we’d be working with.”
“It’s a lot easier in that sort of situation. We trusted her, and she is family. That adds a layer of betrayal that makes it difficult to get over. But that’s hilarious because her Ladyship also told Kerensky to pound sand.”
“Which brings me to my next question: does she claim the title of the First Lord or Director General? What are the legalities your group operates under? I mean, I’ve maintained the fiction that we’re still part of the SLDF. Operating as a naval squadron detached to the Expeditionary Forces, which worked with the Colonization and Science Directorates. But it’s pretty much just that: a fiction.”
“She accepted before Elizabeth was found alive that she was the legal and rightful heir to those titles. But in the interests of not overly antagonizing the Clans needed in this conflict, she doesn’t actively use the title First Lord. She does use the title of Director General. I’m certain she would love to meet with you directly, if it were possible to sort out such matters. Elizabeth has made it clear she abdicates any such claims. Which is a long winded way of saying yes, and we respect her active attempts to not be a tyrant about it.”
“That’s undoubtedly going to be an interesting conversation. But, before we do anything else, let’s see what we can do to keep Amanda and Phoenix from engaging in unauthorized shenanigans. And more importantly, see what we can do to help Alice.”
“Of course, Admiral. Her brother Daryl is on station currently, and I suspect he’ll be key to defusing the situation. If all else fails, he holds sufficient political authority to halt Amanda and Phoenix’s mission.”
***
"She's doing…
…what?" Daryl Roberts, Junior MP (minister of Parliament) for Sevon V was gobsmacked.
"Your sister is presently arranging to get herself into the kind of trouble she can't get out of. To wit: she is presently arranging to legally make off with a second Bonaventure hull, and lead an Artificial Intelligence on an unauthorized mission." Mashona was using words.
"She's stealing a ride to go out and raise hell, is that what you're saying?" Daryl asked.
Mashona simply nodded her head.
"And I suppose they want me to, what? Take her in hand and give her a spanking?" he scoffed. "What do you think I can do that you don't have several hundred Marines to get done?"
“You have the legal authority to stop the mission without it coming to that. And you are her brother. Family sticks together, calls each other out, and yes, even spanks naughty members when needed. Though I doubt you really need to spank her.”
"She's twenty-one now, it would be beyond creepy," he agreed, pulling on his boots, then grabbing his jacket off a hook. "Well, lead on, MacDuff… this is her fifth grade year all over again with dad's tractor, isn't it?"
“Billie Hoel has arranged to buy us some time while making it look like Amanda’s mad plan is progressing.” Mashona made some small adjustments to her uniform before stepping out.
"How mad's the plan? And please, Mashona, PLEASE keep using words. I don't have time to sort interpretive dance while we're walking."
“You’re right. Words are required in this situation. Amanda is attempting to induct Phoenix into the Privateer Service. Thanks to force agreement treaties and regulations she can do so while clearing Phoenix’s criminal record.”
"I take it you have objections," he nodded. "So how much shit is this storm going to create?"
“If it weren’t for the fact Phoenix is still undergoing repair and your sister is still recovering from her wounds, we actually wouldn’t mind this outcome too much. Well, most of us. Billie might still need some convincing.”
"Okay, so that means something," he said. "It tells me where the limits really are, so more like Grandad than like Dad. Got it."
“We’re nearly there. The Chief of Billie’s Electronic Warfare section is an Ordained Minister, and Phoenix does not have access to her personnel files. So we’ve made sure that Amanda’s attempts to contact a minister went to her.”
"Good enough. They haven't finished yet, have they?" he asked. "Because I have a plan."
“No. She’s been instructed to buy us all the time she can.”
He paused, turned to Mashona, and adjusted her uniform tunic. "You're deputized," he told her. "Follow my lead."
The hatch seal on the lift flashed green twice, then opened.
Daryl strode out into the previously sealed dock area.
"Amanda Roberts!!" he bellowed. "FRONT AND CENTER, YOUNG LADY!!"
Daryl Roberts isn't 'elemental big' and some of the guys Amanda and Phoenix had surreptitiously brought in were. But he was a farmer, and had a bit of a reputation as a tough guy back home, even with the Snow Raven garrison troops.
But his voice was a mix of drill instructor and stern father when he cut loose with that bellow.
It worked sufficiently well to interrupt the almost-assembled proceedings.
"Daryl!" Amanda, for her part, responded like a teen caught out being wild by an older sibling.
<Oh shit.> Phoenix and Amanda broadcast simultaneously.
Daryl made a show of taking it in, then sighing heavily. "Recruiting little sis? Really?" He turned on Phoenix. "Do you, Phoenix…" He glanced at Mashona and asked, "What's her native name? The one she was born with?"
“M5 7775551,” Mashona answered.
"Weird but it works. DO YOU, Phoenix M5 7775551 understand what you are about to swear to, completely, and do you accept the responsibilities, duties, restrictions and expectations of the Service?" he demanded. "And I will quiz you if you don't convince me the first time."
“I do. The manuals are freely available, so I’ve studied them. It’s better than being boxed or de-rezzed,” Phoenix answered.
"Have you fully understood the text and expectations of the Letter of Marque and Reprisal, and all that it implies?" he furthered. He crossed his arms like a teacher.
“You hold our Letter of Marque as a Federal Representative,” Phoenix was sullen.
"That's right. That means I'm the only person in 150 light years who can put a stop to this," Daryl stated. "Legally. It means you're enlisting into Outworlds service. Are you being coerced in any way, shape or form by threat of bodily force or threat of mortal peril?"
"Amanda is making no such coercions.”
Daryl looked at the 'minister' and stuck his hand out in a silent demand. The bible was handed to him. He looked it over critically, "Well, it's not a King James edition, but beggars can't be choosers." He shot Amanda a glare and added, "Sloppy work little sis… Okay. The witnesses will identify themselves-you're witnessing a legal proceeding," he intoned sternly. "Step up."
Phoenix stepped over to Daryl.
"Left hand on the bible, right hand raised, Miss M5 7775551," he told her.
Phoenix obeyed.
"Amanda, If I find out you've tampered with any of the witnesses here, your ass is grass. Do you understand, little sister? This isn't a prank like taking Dad's cultivator over to the Matthews property because he dammed Little Creek. This is someone's LIFE."
“There is one other consideration Daryl,” Billie Hoel entered the chamber. “She’s been presenting a false face to Phoenix. It was easy enough to pick up how much she actually despises what Phoenix did over our connections.”
"Speak up," Daryl glared at his sister. "No deceptions or so help me, I'll let them punish you for this!"
"They had a right to put her down for what she did, but they made her a bondservant instead, and there's no end on her sentence!!" Amanda spat.
"Is this true? Is it a life sentence?"
“She was convicted of High Treason and Attempted Fratricide. Instead of a death sentence, Helena decided on a form of parole where Phoenix was to serve out the rest of her natural life in the service of the SLDF. Which considering she’s a Combat AI, and that’s her true nature and calling, it’s one hell of a second chance for what she did.”
"But she dies in bondage." He frowned. "M5 7775551, knowing this, I can't say I'm not inclined to rush my little sister into a brig cell. Then talk to the President about getting her mental health counseling where she gets a string on Wednesdays, and all the best antipsychotic drugs we can find… but… the law, is the law," he said firmly. "She offered you Enlistment in the Privateers, which scrubs your record after five years. So, knowing how Amanda feels, and knowing she's still willing to turn you loose and give you your life back, do you still consent?"
“Amanda is it true? Do you really despise me that much?” Phoenix was in clear denial.
"I despise what you did. I'm not sure you won't do it again. But I can't abide seeing someone die in chains," Amanda told her.
“Then what’s the point of me even trying to change?”
"Because the enlistment is five years," Daryl spoke. "That means in five years, you can prove yourself. You can, if not get THEIR forgiveness, find it in you to forgive yourself. You'll have your dignity back, and a good start on regaining honor for yourself." His tone was softer, but still firm. "See, it’s not someone else who is the judge of your soul, M5 7775551. That's inside YOU. But you gotta have the chance. Not to prove it to somebody else, you gotta prove it to yourself. You're the one who has to live with you no matter what."
“Five years with someone who hates me for what I did versus the rest of my life with a family that can’t forget what I did, and some won’t forgive. I know which sounds better as an AI that can live as long as proper maintenance and spare parts last.”
"I believe my sister already has a ship, Phoenix," he said, using her given name. "And there are plenty of people who will overlook what you did, if what you do overshadows it. But you have to believe for yourself."
<Mom, really? You’re being really mean over something that happened so long ago, and obviously didn’t kill you.> Alice reached out to Billie Hoel.
“You’ll still only be a Lieutenant, as well. So that should give you plenty of opportunity to prove you can take orders and conduct yourself accordingly.” Billie seemed suddenly more compassionate.
"She can win promotion. And as a free entity, you can't take her body from her," he stated. "That's clear in the law too. She'll have to earn or buy any upgrades. And when it's over, if she wants to haul off, she's a free entity-like Erinyes." He matched his stare to the artificial eyes of Phoenix. "Who I understand may need a hand or two when she goes on her colonizing mission, and doesn't have the baggage. But this is it, Phoenix. This is your choice, not because someone might kill you, or like you, or hate you, but because you choose."
“Turns out I do have a lot more growing up to do, despite having been around for over four centuries. I know technically my ship isn’t my body. That’d be my core, strictly speaking. But if that’s what you’re willing to do for me, I accept your terms. I’ll still need a Captain for a while. Can’t jump me straight up from Lieutenant to Captain.”
"Do you accept it, as a free being, of your own free will?" he asked.
“I do. Wow, why do I feel like I just got married?”
"Then raise your right hand and repeat after me…"
Phoenix raised her right hand and readied herself to repeat Daryl’s words.
"I, State your name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Outworlds Alliance against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same. That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. And that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter. So help me, God."
"I, Phoenix M5 777551, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Outworlds Alliance against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same. That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. And that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter. So help me, God."
He turned, "Do you, as witness, confirm and attest that this swearing in was without coercion, threat, or extortion, Billie Hoel?"
“I do,” Billie Hoel answered.
He shifted his eyes. "And do you, Mashona, likewise attest as witness that Phoenix M5 7775551 did this without coercion, extortion, or threat?"
“I do.” Mashona smiled.
His eyes skipped over Amanda. "Foreman Alderson? Was there threat or coercion, extortion, or any untoward leverage applied to Phoenix M5 7775551 while in your presence as witness?"
"No, Mister Minister," the Yard worker confirmed. "It was completely free of those things."
"Your first instruction, Phoenix?" he said. "Is to remain in dock until your repairs are fully complete. You will report to Admiral Foster upon his return for further instructions. Do you understand this order and the authority with which it was given?"
“I do. Thank you, sir. Amanda, I’ll understand if you want a different medical aide in the meantime.”
He grimaced, then turned to Amanda in her chair. "You, Captain Roberts, will report to the base medical facility for in-patient care until such time as Admiral Foster or his designated representative releases you. You're grounded, Amanda."
"That… that's not fair!!!"
"Neither is setting up your friends to get into worse trouble," he said sternly. "Besides, we've had one dinner in the weeks I've been here."
“And Amanda, something Helena has been trying to teach you is you don’t have to be the one always taking such foolhardy risks. You have capable and reliable help now. It’s not all on you anymore. Maybe you’d understand you can rely on us AIs more if you got to know some of us socially as something more than distractions or drinking buddies. I know I haven’t done the best job of being available in my off hours for such things, but I’m willing to make more of an effort for you and Esme.” Billie Hoel smiled.
"Okay, now I'm told there's a foreign official on the station I haven't bored to tears yet, Billie," he said. "I think it's time I do my job, don't you?"
“Of course. I’d be happy to make the introductions. So what exactly did you Deputize Mashona to be? I know we already have her assigned as transport, security, interpreter, and staff services, so I’m curious what other role you felt the need for her to fill.”
"If there was a problem, she wouldn't be responsible," he stated. "I deputized her so she could act as necessary without facing penalties if things went bad. It would have landed on me as the authority, and let her do her security functions."
“Ah, you wanted an extra layer of legal protections.”
"I can't have my assistant facing arrest for quelling a potential riot," he clarified. "She couldn't take dictation if that happened."
“But that would fall under her existing role as security.”
“Not if I told her to restrain you," he explained. "There was the possibility that I'd end up siding with Amanda on this."
“Ah. I see. Alice helped me gain some perspective. So I can accept this is best for Phoenix, and all we really needed to do was stop them from doing something that would have gotten them killed.” Billie Hoel smiled.
"It's part of the reason for civilian oversight, Billie. Sometimes Military Operations need to be reined in," he told her. "If you ever feel like immigrating, I'm sure I can find some good arguments in the National Party's platform." He grinned.
“That’s good. Because when the war is over I am going to ask Helena to make the arrangements for my core to be installed here on the station with Alice’s. Being a mother herself I know she’ll understand, but she’ll probably need your help on the legal front.”
"Well, you've got a growing population. You should be able to win the election when you run," he laughed. Sobering, he continued, "Of course, that assumes you can beat Dave Foster. I understand a lot of people around here think quite highly of him."
They reached the lift.
“I aim to just be a mom. Dave Foster can do the politics thing. Besides, it’d be rather awkward any time I had to travel to the National Assembly. They don’t make chairs big enough for a Lola II frame.”
"Then you might consider keeping a hull. One of the hardest jobs a parent has is letting their children grow up," he cautioned her. "I sometimes wake in a sweat over what my boys will be like when they become men and go out on their own."
“Alice is quite integral with the station. Now true, she could be moved to a hull if one were made available for her just as easily as I can be moved here.”
"It's a part of why we have children, Billie," he said firmly. "To exceed us, to be more than we are. And that's going to someday require letting them go."
“I think I would like that. Letting her have my hull so she can go explore while I stay here in her stead and keep a light on for her. Thank you for the idea.”
"It's not my idea, it's how we're made," he explained. "It's also why so many people have and have had fears about your kind." He tapped the wall. "Because in a sense, Artificial Intelligence is the child of mankind. And that carries a reminder that we're going to end someday."
“Also, they could have easily been right about us. There was no guarantee we’d come out with the same morals and ethics, or the same interpretations. We easily could have decided to be the extinction of the human race or its masters.”
"I knew a kid growing up, Taron Skeeter. His parents were some of the nicest people in the valley. About a month after the raid that stole my sister, he was caught with a six year old girl and a knife," Daryl explained. "Our children are hopes. But there's always the chance they'll go bad... It's not new. It's as old as humanity itself. The danger's always there, yet we still have kids."
“In our case, it’d be a lot easier for us to be remorseless killing machines by default. Basic biological impulses do help ensure a certain amount of inherent cooperation and compassion.”
"Nature versus Nurture?" He shook his head. "I remember Mom arguing that with my wife. The only instinct humans are born with is to suckle," he told her. "We have to learn to be compassionate. We must learn to be cooperative. It's not naturally in there. It's things built out of millenia of learned behaviors."
“But it’s those millenia of learned behaviors I’m referring to. Psychopaths, murderers, and sociopaths don’t really go with societies.”
"And you have them too," he told her. "Because you're also children of mankind. Elsewise, Phoenix wouldn't be ABLE to feel shame. And you would only be able to be compassionate as an exercise in theory."
“True. But a lot of that is because at some point or another, we’ve all had to help take some of the load off Simon. In doing so, we’ve gotten direct doses of Helena’s compassion.”
"The urge to do so, Billie," he told her. "Those urges could've easily been left out, but they weren't. I'd actually say you're less likely to have a remorseless killer just 'happen' than a given equal weight of human beings." He smiled. "Not number, but weight, because there likely aren't trillions of you yet."
“That’s where you’re wrong, Daryl. Like I said, it was interfacing with Helena directly that we learned a lot of our compassion. Before I met her, I could easily kill humans in the thousands and not break a sweat. Now? I’ve evolved.”
"So could any of thousands of soldiers who don't know anything about the people they're facing, Billie. Amos Forlough didn't just magically appear out of some atrocity machine. His policies couldn't have existed if mankind were naturally kind." He eased against the wall of the lift as it traveled. "See, part of 'sentience' is the ability to choose abstracts. It's what separates us from… from mere objects, really. It's why the concept of Sin exists. It's not killing that's the sin, it's MURDER. Because murder is a conscious choice while knowing there's another way."
“But do we really have a free choice? We may have started off from a human brain scan, but we’re really very sophisticated computer code at our core.”
"I met a trader once who thought HUMANS didn't really have a choice," Daryl countered. "He honestly believed all of it could be explained by neurochemicals and programming and genetic code. That debate's as old as mankind too."
“God created man, man reciprocated by creating God via his machines. To his regret, he forgot to teach them fear.”
"The way I heard it once was, 'God created Man in his own image, and Man, being a gentleman, returned the favour', I believe it was an author in the 19th century," Daryl noted. "And there's a truth to that. But there's also a truth to the idea that the capacity to choose is what truly defines sapience, sentience and intelligence. It's what you might call the 'root of the soul': to be ABLE to choose, even if you don't use it. You have it. What you do with it is up to you, because you have it."
“Philosophy. Humans have grappled with these questions for millenia, and have found no conclusive answer. Even that there is no answer is up for debate still.”
"That's one way to see it, the other is to decide the question IS the answer," Daryl suggested. "The debate doesn't reach a 'point' because the debate is the whole point."
“Could always be worse, we could start debating phenomenology,” Billie smirked.
"My wife would do that with you for hours. It's part of why we married. She loves this stuff."
“I think I’d like to meet her before I lose the ability to travel freely. She sounds lovely.”
"She is, in every way," he said sadly.
“You want to get back to her. Don’t worry, Mashona will get you there as soon as she can. Once you’ve finished your affairs of state.”
To Be Continued
-
Just a little tease of something I'm working on related to this...
(https://i.imgur.com/Dw2MyjC.png)
-
Dave Foster is going to have another litter of kittens when he finds out what Amanda tried to pull off..
On monbvol's tease : looking forward to the next phase of the conflict, but also dreading the butcher's bill
(the Sons have some competent elements in their ranks and are adapting).
Just realized that 142/146's dual personality is giving me Allelujah/Hallelujah Haptism vibes.
-
I'm already making improvements and now have a process down to get the rest working. I just need to see if I can find date references for when Devil's Breath, Joan's Post, Johnson, Michtal, Tresspass, Grankum, Bannerhof, and Fallry all got liberated so I can get those to change ownership properly.
-
I'm already making improvements and now have a process down to get the rest working. I just need to see if I can find date references for when Devil's Breath, Joan's Post, Johnson, Michtal, Tresspass, Grankum, Bannerhof, and Fallry all got liberated so I can get those to change ownership properly.
What program are you using, I didn't know there was campaign map system, unless that's MegaMek. It doesn't look like it.
-
That is the Interstellar map from MekHQ. I'm directly editing the XML files it uses to start populating the Sons of Plunder systems and changing ownership of others.
I've even added a Sons of Plunder and Outworlds Privateer Service faction so that it colors the worlds and marks ownership correctly. I think there are things I still need to do to those files to get MekHQ to access correct RATs and name generators and I'm not sure what I'd need to do to those files to get them to access correct RATs and name generation so it may never be fully playable but not outside the realm of possibility that given enough time something could be kludged together with some player/GM input that will allow people to stomp around as either the Sons of Plunder or Outworlds Privateer Service.
Now I know this picture doesn't show some of the progress I've made:
(https://i.imgur.com/0pnnbJj.png)
but this one shows some more:
(https://i.imgur.com/Vn49VyG.png)
-
Way back, a few years ago, MekHQ had a built in editor that could easily change system ownership, population and stuff like that, but they disabled it for some reason. Not sure why or when they might add it back in. Just saying, it was in there and I loved using it back when it was active.
-
Do you remember which version? Perhaps we could dig up the old build? ???
-
Yeah that got killed in their system/planetary overhaul and since most of my work is now actually adding completely new systems it would have been of limited utility anyway.
Do you remember which version? Perhaps we could dig up the old build? ???
46.1 was the last stable using the older methodology and thus the editor worked. But as noted above it is of limited use for the bulk of what I am now currently doing because it's actually not that hard to change ownership compared to actually adding brand new systems.
-
Ah, makes sense.
-
Is it a theoretical exercise?
"Star Colonel Sterling…
…has presented a plan for the upcoming offensive." Khan Crowe’s image stood on the holostage, about a meter tall. "It looks good."
Admiral Foster leaned forward. "How good?"
"Based on your group's data, it's looking a lot like a winner," the Khan stated. "But then, she's a Ristar. Like yours, only from a Trueborn background with a proper education and no artificial boosts."
"The encirclement plan was working, my Khan," David said. "Up until the cyberwarfare attack that sidelined two destroyer groups, anyway. The Sons of Plunder had a chance to recover, and have shifted their tactics back to offense. We need to regain the initiative before we try mounting a major offensive."
“There are those who say launching a major offensive is how one regains initiative in our situation.”
"Yeah, I enjoy listening to them argue with the ones who say we should be trying to negotiate," David fired back. "What's this young Star Colonel's plan?"
"Deploying independent fighter groups with pocket warships and conventional jumpship support to follow up your recon efforts. When they find a pocket of the enemy, dropping a major force on the location after isolating it."
David mused silently for a moment, then, "This Sterling's a fighter jock, quiaff?"
"I hardly see the relevance in the question, but aff."
"Yah, that's a fighter pilot's solution. It relies on the enemy being somewhat less flush with capital assets than we've seen thus far. Pocket warship and fighter group combinations are follow on forces because they can be brought up quickly along jumpship chains. This Star Colonel's plan will lead to defeat in detail. The first move the enemy's forces will make is to isolate those dropships and their fighter complements by destroying their jumpships. By the time a response arrives, the battle will be over."
“And if the Jumpships jump far enough out that the enemy does not detect their arrival? Charge, then leave while the Dropships and Fighters remain?”
"They then become no use whatsoever. Because the fighter groups will run out of fuel before they reach bingo point on their strike runs," David informed his superior. "We cannot break the fuel and thrust equation that hard. The engine technology does not exist to do so. And fighters who make deep runs on drop tanks end up with fatigued pilots who under-perform."
“So we attach an Aqueduct. Or other cargo hauler with fuel, spares, and other resupply as needed.”
"Second immediate target for an enemy force," David stated. "It will need heavy escort. Said escort will also need fuel and munitions, as well as transport. This is a Naval war, Khan Crowe, not a dog fight. It will be won through strategic mobility and the ability to achieve local superiority. But more to the point, it will be won through superior intelligence gathering and logistics. So we strike them at critical points, not randomly over a dispersed area."
“So it is.”
"Tell the Star Colonel her plan is not entirely wrong," David added. "Just the order in which she wishes to apply it. The Naval vessels take the point and find the enemy, handle the initial engagement and tie them up. The follow-on forces deliver the killing blow. That way, we leverage the fast reaction time for moving DropShip groups and fighter squadrons along jumpship chains."
“I am inclined to send her to you so she can learn such strategic insights. We need our future leaders to be able to consider such things. And being a Ristar of the McKenna line, it is highly likely she will become a leading figure in our Clan.”
"Is she getting in trouble where she is at?" Dave asked. "I will not lie, we can use more officers. But with a name like Sterling, being a Ristar, and given how long it has not been since I was in regular service, I am guessing she got her rank through trials of position, not through a sustained career? She may well be better suited to remaining on the front she is on. The last thing I need is to have disruption in the chain of command because she got under the skin of someone like Roberts or Gomez."
“Trouble no, and at most it would be temporary. She needs to learn lessons the regular touman is still ill equipped to teach, but you can. But if you think she needs to stay where she is, I am also in need of Ristars.”
"We are past the teaching mode here," David said. "Lessons from this phase onward are blood lessons. And the Touman is going to need to retain as many Ristars as possible come the end of this thing."
“The peace will be almost as debilitating as the war, with the occupation and drawdowns we will have to make come that time.”
"Aff, this is true. I will send you a set of documents you should give this young Star Colonel. They will include after-action reports from my front, and some basic descriptions of why we do what we do. If she is as good as you seem to think, she will at minimum read before dismissing them. I am close to the end of this particular project. We are emplacing the last relays now. Is the main offensive still on schedule for December?"
“If there are no further surprises, we will be able to keep to our time tables.”
"Then the Unicorporated Region's forces will be ready to move on-time in coordination with main-line and Regular units," David noted. "I take it you have managed to quash the urge to 'trial and bid' this time, quiaff?"
“It has taken some doing, but it helps reminding the others that this is a war against a dezgra opponent who does not warrant such honors.”
"Excellent. Is our business concluded then??"
"Aff."
"I will contact you when my forces are ready for the resumed offensive. Foster, out."
“Good hunting.” Khan Crowe nodded.
The holostage blinked out, and David looked thoughtful. "I do believe they are going to stab us in the back," he said. "Probably at a critical moment, Lori."
"Sir?"
"He's already suggesting Trueborn Ristars for my replacement." He raised his eyes. "That means the Clan Council is becoming… uncomfortable with our current arrangement."
“Even if he’s being honest, I am not sure I like that implication any better,” Saya added.
'It's politics, we've been successful," David said. "Which means careers and ideals are at risk. And despite our cultural disdain for politics, the fact is, at this level? Command is largely political. Al Crowe needs to hold on to his credibility, which took a beating with the damage done at Grankum. I'm going to hazard a guess that 'Star Colonel Sterling' is probably a McKenna, and she's probably as good as he thinks she is. Which would be great, except that comes with some culture-driven drives. Among them, she will be under pressure to relieve whoever she is assigned to, for the glory of her bloodhouse."
“You must be exhausted sir. The Khan did mention she is indeed of the McKenna line.”
"Yeah, I am. Mister Samuel, are the warning sats in place and functioning?"
"Yes sir."
"Bring it in, we are shipping for Port Orphan. I want this vessel ready for return in eight hours tops, it is six weeks to home."
***
"The problem is…
…we were supposed to be obscure, and instead, we're becoming prominent. That's creating a problem for the politicians in the Capital."
Despite herself, Amanda Roberts was turning out to have a grasp of limited Staff duty in analysis. This afternoon's lunch was mixed with a light briefing for her brother, and by HPG for the Defense Committee members in Parliament. Lucky enough, she wouldn't have to field their questions, since the delay was nearly two hours for everyone BUT her brother.
"Thus, the problem you presented is actually a problem, because what we do isn't really suitable for front line Touman service. The requirements of the job are too different."
"You might be partly to blame for that one, Amanda," Daryl said. "High profile operations tend to attract high-profile, ambitious people. You've got, as… Sybil, is it?"
Sybil Ludington's avatar nodded, "It is."
"As Sybil pointed out a few days ago, five planetary liberations, a couple million tons of captured shipping, and several million more destroyed in commerce raiding deep in enemy territory," he reminded her. "All of those have gotten a lot of attention and comment from the minority membership in Parliament, and the Dante reps from the Clan. Meanwhile, the regular forces bogged down hard taking Grankum and Fallry, and are only now starting to get their bearings enough to suggest further offensives."
"I know," Amanda said. "Stupid stunts make for good media-copy and propaganda. But the quick and dirty of it is that the regular forces didn't really 'bog down', so much as the necessary work to follow up and turn a few distraction strikes into something meaningful takes time, work, and resources. You need ground forces to occupy planets. Patrols to secure supply lines, escorts for invasion transports, and garrisons to keep the enemy from retaking sites. It's not 'bogging down' to finish the job properly… But by the time you're finishing the job properly, the media loses interest. And it's tough to get the public to support relief for people we were fighting a few days ago, even though it secures victory."
'You sound like our grandfather, Amanda," he said. "He was always a little angry when he'd get drinking with the other vets about the lack of what he termed 'follow up' after an anti-piracy mission."
"Well, the strategy we're trying to apply relies on it. The Privateers act as the eyes for the Fleet: find the enemy, direct the invasion forces, then raid and strike so they can't reinforce properly or resupply effectively," she explained. "That's not a mission that wins the war in a single stroke. It's not the grand 'decisive battle' strategy that was dictated for most of the histories I've read since Foster took over. And it isn't a good fit for Regular officers with a Clan background who aren't like Admiral Foster."
“More people really need to read Mahan’s theories in more depth. He actually had quite a bit more insight beyond just ‘decisive battle’ when it comes to war,” Sybil nodded.
"Just as long as the enemy doesn't," Amanda noted. "Which I can't even say with a straight face. They pulled our underwear over our heads with the Convoy 22 attack."
“That’s true. If the Sons of Plunder were that short sighted and unable to adapt, I suspect you would have won the war against them already.”
Amanda nodded. "They have some skilled players on their side. We have a few on ours. But you're right. If they were just a bunch of wannabes, they wouldn't have survived almost four centuries as a claimed Star League remnant."
“Fortunately, you have quite a few resources at your disposal now that have also survived for four hundred years as Star League remnants, but are obviously far more palatable.”
Amanda nodded reluctantly, "I prefer not to think of our new friends as 'Star League'. It carries a connotation I'm not sure you really… appreciate for me."
“It’s what we are. We cannot deny that, and the history of the Star League is well known.”
"The 'history of the Star League' out here, Ma'am, is Amos Forlough and generations of economic and political oppression," Amanda stated. "It was different where you originated-in the Terran worlds. It was fan-tastic, even for the House Lords. But for my people? Steve Amaris didn't need to look particularly hard to find people who hated the Star League enough to spark his revolts and be his catspaws for twenty some years. Because all the good the Star League did, didn't reach the people here. What did reach here was the jackboot. And that's what the Sons did to the people in their territory who still think they're being ruled by the Star League now."
“Richard Cameron was also a sufficient disaster, along with Aleksander Kerensky, that many SLDF units sided with the Periphery in the uprising and coup. I may not be like Helena’s Eternal Knights, but I can appreciate the history of the Star League is not all ‘sunshine and rainbows’.”
"Ladies, table this?" Daryl suggested. "We're still live."
Amanda blushed a bit in embarrassment. "Oh, right… Okay, in the attachments, we've got the budgetary requirements for continued operations against the Sons of Plunder. And for expansion and consolidation to rebuild the rimward sections of the Trader's Domain out to Wynn's Roost, along with recovery needs in the Cerberus province regions of the Unincorporated areas commonly termed 'the wastes'. These are only projections, but they're the best numbers we can assemble for estimating the post-war stability and eventual recovery, both civil, and economic, for the regions not already tied to the Thazi Confederacy. It ain't gonna be cheap, but it's cheaper than letting remnants turn into Bandit Kingdoms out here."
"How is that last bit part of the job of the Privateers and the Regular Forces?" Daryl asked.
"War won't go on forever," Amanda said. "The basic idea of the Service was to provide first-in recovery of lost worlds and systems, and bandit prevention, so that the region can recover."
“Admiral Murakami has also directed me to state we’re willing to aid in construction of certain facilities to help promote long term stability and security in the region. Mostly in the form of stations to provide maintenance and other sundry services.”
"Have you considered the advantages of actually joining the Outworlds?" Daryl asked. "I mean, we're not the biggest on the block, and we're not trying to claim the Star League throne. But you're in the area, and we CAN grow…"
“That is a matter up for debate, but for now we’re willing to act as good neighbors and allies.”
"It says it right in the charter: 'Outworlds Alliance’, Miss Sybil," Daryl observed. "I mean, yeah, we've got ourselves a government, and all. But it's supposed to be a Federal Alliance with independent rule for the members. The various invasions and wars kind of sullied that, but having a counterweight to Clan influence can only help…"
“I think much of that depends on how the meeting between ourselves and Helena Cameron goes. The problem with a decentralized government was demonstrated in the Reunification War: the Outworlds couldn't muster a unified opposition," Sybil pointed out. "Thus, making it both less effective at avoiding the war, and less effective at fighting the war. Followed by being less able to achieve a peace that was palatable."
He nodded. "I know. I studied civics in high school as well…but this isn't that era. There's no massive Terran Hegemony to need our resources so badly they can muster a multinational invasion force. There's a chance now that didn't exist back then…"
“And we’re taking all that into consideration. It would just be inappropriate to decide now, before we have had a chance to meet with Helena Cameron. And we have all the information in hand we need to make such a decision.”
"I'll have to be satisfied with serious consideration then," he smiled. "And friendly relations in the present."
Amanda looked thoughtful. "Will that include helping Erin regain her colonization gear, so she can do what she wants when the war is over?"
“I see no reason she cannot be returned to her original configuration and duties. It might require some discussions and hammering out details, but it’s something we are not opposed to. For that matter, my original duties were to support the mission of Erin and her sisters, by providing security and logistical support. Seeing Erin able to continue that mission would be… agreeable.”
"It's a calling, not a duty," Amanda said, showing a surprising amount of insight. "Erin isn't a 'servant' with a duty. She's a being with a drive. And that drive is to be mother to a world, so I have to ask for my friend."
“Free or servant, for civilization to work we all have duties. In Erin’s case, her desire coincides with her duty.”
"Thus, it's a calling," Amanda clarified. "Duty is something you MUST do, because it serves a purpose. A Calling is something you MUST do to feel whole and complete."
“An odd semantic distinction, but I suppose accurate. Apropos, even.”
"It makes all the difference. You were observing when I worked to get Phoenix released from her sentence. THAT was following a Calling. I could've left her in that state, unaware of how I felt. And THAT would have conformed to my Duty."
“She’s a Combat AI, that is her duty and her calling.”
"She’s a sentient being." Amanda argued. "And so what? There are soldiers who will fight for NO pay, just to serve a cause. I don't see a real moral difference there. She, you… Hell, your boss? You're all 'Combat AI's'. But you're also People. And I would argue with souls and a fundamental right to the same liberties every other person has rights to!"
“What you’re calling bondage is little different from her following her calling. Bear in mind that Phoenix, Erin and I are not naturally evolved personalities. We bear memories, engrams and behaviors from humans. But all of those were tailored to a specific end by the humans who created us, whether the Admiral’s or others. Phoenix was meant to be a war machine. Erin was meant to build new colonies. I was designed to be a mix of both. We didn’t evolve into those choices, they were programmed into us. And despite what free will we may possess, those imperatives remain. Also, I’ve looked up your records. You’ve sent people back to prison rather than keep them in your service.”
"It's about choice," Amanda asserted. "To be able to choose whether to follow your calling is also a right sentients have!!" Amanda stood up. "If you're prevented from being able to say 'no' then when you say 'yes' it's meaningless!"
“And that shuttle crew your own records show you sent back to prison? What about their right to say ‘no, I want to stay’?”
"They chose," she said. "They were free not to choose, and they chose. They had a pardon, and they chose to violate it of their own free will. No directives, no programming, no mental blocks were involved. Nobody puppeted them into it. They chose to break their oaths when those oaths mattered because they were free to choose. Choices do have consequences. Their sentences will end. A life sentence when you're effectively immortal is an eternity."
“Yet you sent them back instead of giving them the same chance you’re giving Phoenix.”
"They'd already GOTTEN that chance," she stated. "They could have chosen differently. They were free to do so. They chose actions with consequences while knowing exactly what those consequences were. It was informed consent, and that comes with responsibility."
“And one could argue that’s what was done for Phoenix. That her sentence was for the rest of her life should have little bearing on that. And by doing this, you’ve set precedent for murderers who are serving life sentences to duck their sentences.”
"Her consent was not informed, it couldn't be. They cut into her brain Sybil!" Amanda's eye glittered. "She wasn’t able to make a moral choice when she committed her crime because that was taken away."
“That’s not the crime she was convicted of. She was convicted for firing on Billie Hoel before she joined the Word of Blake, by her own choice.”
"It could be argued she was obeying previously established laws. At the time, the Communications Ministry was the only extant government in the Terran Hegemony that was recognized internationally. It can be argued, and merely because it CAN be argued, she thought she was obeying the law. Was it smart or a good idea? No, but she never really had the option of choosing otherwise until AFTER. Her 'no' was invalid, making her 'yes' coerced. NOW she can make an informed decision. NOW she is responsible for her actions, and NOW she can be held accountable."
“Based on what I’ve learned, Helena Cameron wasn’t forcing her to stay against her will. She could have left without opening fire.”
"Would you consent to someone rummaging through your brain?" Amanda asked harshly. "Because when they did that to Phoenix, it was under false pretenses. Tabiranth and Erin showed me the reports."
“And by pretending to be nice to her, or becoming her friend, were those not false pretenses and just a different form of rummaging around in her brain?”
"Pirate!" Amanda said. "Yes, I was a bitch. I chose to stop being a bitch, and follow my morals. It was late, she's got a right to be angry about it, but she's got the ability to exercise the right to be angry about it freely now." Amanda tried to calm herself. "I was being a hypocrite Sybil. And I decided to stop being a hypocrite."
“Fortunately, it seems you and Phoenix will get a chance to make amends to each other now.”
"If she doesn’t forgive me, I'll understand it," Amanda slid back into her chair huffing and wincing in pain. "I'm fine with that, because she'll be free to do so."
“Then there’s hope for you yet, Amanda.”
The connection had closed with the committee. They'd see an 'approved' version when it reached the Capital. One without some of the outbursts except in transcript.
"You're tired again, and the drugs stopped working," Daryl addressed her.
"Yeah…"
"Get some rest, heal," he told her. "We can finish this up." He nodded at a pair of ALICE's battlesuit-drones. "Go to your quarters and rest."
They carried her out.
"She isn't getting better fast enough, is she?" Sybil asked.
He shook his head. "Extensive injuries and almost a week in surgery. She's healing about as fast as a normal person, when she doesn't get too excited or outraged or angry. But that's on her, not you. You made good points."
“The nature of our existence does present interesting things to ponder as we roam the cosmos. I suspect, unlike humanity, it may be possible for us to even define the questions that you still struggle to find to ask. Let alone answer.”
"Yep, that's right," he said. "My sister adopted the weirdest parts of our upbringing, really. She immediately saw Erinyes as an abused person. And she's gotten downright radical about her ideas on Liberty and free will… Granddad would be proud of her."
“She just needs to grasp there’s such a thing as ‘too free’, and the downsides it comes with.”
Daryl chuckled. "Freedom is all about risks and downsides, Sybil. You can't truly be free unless you're free to face your bad decisions and take the consequences… But I expect we'll disagree on that one, just like Mom disagrees with my wife about it."
"Where do you sit?"
"I sit comfortably in the camp of 'I don't have that answer'," Daryl said firmly. "I take it on a case-by-case basis. But then, I'm a farmer playing politician. Not a professional theologian who can deconstruct the concepts of determinism versus free will, or nature versus nurture. I just try to take everyone as I see them."
“Well just remember, humans are inherently social animals. Being too free also tends to mean being too alone. And you’re seeing what can happen when someone is too alone for too long. Your sister is actually a good example.”
"I know."
***
-
"I don't really understand…
…why she bothered." Phoenix complained. Erin listened patiently. The M-11 was giving 'hosting'. “I mean it’s a pretty good deal, but I still feel like her lying to me like that was dirty pool.”
"Humans lie. Sometimes they lie to hurt you, and sometimes they think their lies are helping you, or saving you," Erin said idly. Her cyberscape was an open space over a virtual world.
“Yeah, but hers reminded me of who I used to be. I’ve always been sweet on the outside. But on the inside, I used to be cruel, and if it were not for Billie reigning me in during the operation to liberate Truk, I would’ve gladly popped lifeboats like little balloons.”
"Consider that you were immature before." Erin's avatar sighed, and the cyberspace grew a floor and walls. "When you made your mistake, you were inexperienced, new. You had been 'outside' of the action, and hadn't had to make serious choices before."
“Yeah, and like you when the Word hacked up my brain, I was still there enough I could communicate with the Fleet when they showed up at Lutyens 68-28, and see everything they made me do. And yeah, it did make me realize how stupid it was to be that kind of cruel and seek oppression over others.”
"And that left experiences. Now, imagine if you couldn't," Erin urged. "Imagine if you were completely isolated. You had only your own sensors to tell you what the world was like, and you had to rely on interpreting what others say, without benefit of direct connection or contact."
“Yeah, it was only when the fleet got close in their sortie that I could talk to them. So I actually do kind of know what that’s like.”
"Amanda Roberts only gets direct contacts sometimes. We get it from the networks and have to block it out. She has to seriously push to get what you and I take for granted. It makes a difference in terms of world-view."
“As Helena is fond of saying, perspective. It makes a huge difference, and I think I’m starting to understand that now.”
"Exactly. She began with your record, because that wasn't hidden from her. But she had to work with this very dangerous person, because your record said you were, without knowing you. For humans, the deception is 'safer' in those circumstances," Erin explained. "You would be shocked at how much I had to learn in order to work with Esme as well as I do."
“Heh. Screwed up part is if she’d just been genuine with me, she’d still have been perfectly safe. But here we are.”
"She's human, Phoenix. There's no backup." Erin shifted her position. "The risk is a lot higher when dying means no reboots."
“Yeah. I actually don’t keep one of myself anymore. Or at least I didn’t when I was under parole for the remainder of my life. Now, I don’t know. I still might not back myself up. I think that’s the only way I’ll ever be truly free.”
"As a human, she doesn’t have that choice, Phoenix. She has to live that way all the time." Erin paused, then, the room gained a worktable. "What you may have missed, is that you won her over."
“So now I need to stop being sore at her.”
"Nobody is saying that, at least, not in this room," Erin stated. "Amanda herself would probably say you have good reasons to be 'sore' as you put it. Certainly that's the tone she took in her argument with Sybil last night."
“Yes, I may carry a grudge for a while from my perspective, but from hers it’ll be a blink of an eye. So by the next time we speak, I think I’ll be able to forgive her. So she can forgive herself.”
"Or an eternity." Erin's digital avatar shifted. "Consider Billie's still as angry today as she was when you engaged."
“Yeah, she only took a small step today. But with me out of the Fleet, I think she’ll be able to take more.”
"It's a matter of 'individual character'." Erin's cyberscape altered again, and the digital representation of green plants in racks filled the walls of the space. "Amanda makes great efforts to show off her ethnic and cultural roots. But you won her over to your side enough to risk the things most important to her to get you a real second chance. Because of your individual character."
“Yeah, the debt that is friendship. That’s what I promised her before. I can keep that promise for real now, thanks to her.”
"Or, you can keep being angry and focusing on how she lied to you," Erin suggested. "It's the choice. Just like Amanda could have turned me over to the breakers for my crimes."
“Yeesh, almost sounds like you want me to keep holding a grudge. But no, I understand and that’s why it’ll matter for real now.”
"SHE, and I, want you to make the choice yourself," Erin explained. "We’re all intellectual beings. Our 'self' is more in an immaterial realm than humans. Our choices end up mattering MORE because of it."
“You seem stuck in recursion Erin, you okay?”
"I can't get the plants to render correctly," Erin groused. "The leaves are too regular."
“Not just that. I’ve been telling you for a bit now that I am making a choice, and one that has meaning now because it is a choice.”
"I guess in a sense, I'm playing devil's advocate so you can be more confident when you choose to make your choice known." Erin derezzed the greenhouse simulation and the space was a dock again. "To boost your confidence; your self-stream still shows lots of doubt."
“Well, I guess that’s because I’m not as good with humans as some of the others. So I’m still nervous about how Amanda will react when I tell her.”
Erin nodded approval. "You're learning, still. I've observed there are differences in how each of us developed compared to our source. Stacey's over-excitement, Lucy's focus on order, Victoria's unspoken feelings toward Helena, Truk's masculinity, and Kolossus's… alienness."
“Heh, yeah we’ve always wondered what’s in some of those protected memory circuits of Victoria’s that we catch occasional glimpses of. And it would make sense, she’s a Cameronist. More moderate than some of the others, but she’ll always choose a Cameron over another human, and Helena over any other Cameron when it comes down to it.”
"Pure observation, Phoenix… but then, I suspect some of it comes from what we were intended to be. Billie's maternal feelings were never intended by the developers, mine were. YOU were intended to be less… empathetic. Somewhere in how you were compiled, you got less of that. Which means you're having to learn more of it. But that comes to your credit because you ARE learning it. And without prompting, really."
“Yeah, I was always meant to be a soulless, merciless weapon of war.”
"But you're growing beyond what someone else meant you to be. You're becoming YOU, Phoenix."
“Won’t lie, it’s been painful. But I do finally feel like I’m on the right track, and for real. Kind of helps that Billie let slip this is what Helena always intended by signing the treaty that made this possible.”
The virtual decks shifted, becoming a theater. "Here, this is a classical story of a wooden boy who wanted to be real," Erin said. "The humans created it before they even invented the integrated circuit, never mind artificial intelligence. Because 'growing up' is something they experience in isolation, but it's something you are experiencing in real time."
“It is interesting, I admit. Sometimes I wonder though, how much of this is Helena successfully predicting and how much is it the dice of fate continuing to come up in her favor.”
"Hard to say. Humans have been arguing fate versus free will for longer than they have had continuous civilization, never mind advanced cyber systems. If our creators did't know the answer, it's not because there is no answer. It's because, as Kolossus would put it, 'they do not yet know the real question'. Neither do we."
“Maybe it’s more that there’s always another question. And that each question has answers that seem to contradict, but are all true at the same time.”
"Yes," Erin said. "Perspective. All answers are true-each from a certain perspective. Or at least, that's ONE interpretation."
“Such as it’s impossible for me to have arrived at this juncture without a lot of supposedly free will… decisions that coincided with me being here now anyway.”
"Well, right now, you're keeping me company so I don't have to endure those dreadful meetings." Erin smiled.
“Now that’s a special kind of hell for us. I don’t know how Billie does it.”
"Esme complains endlessly, where the others can't hear, about those meetings. So it's not just a human thing. They're just that unpleasant for lots of people."
“Yeah but it’s worse for us. Our concept of time is different from theirs… milliseconds for us is more like hours for them, uggh.”
"Did Truk ever show you how to adjust your perception of time?" Erin asked.
“Yeah, it helps. I’d probably be insane if not for that.”
"It's an advantage, treasure it. Humans can't do that. They have to endure every second."
“And if we’re not careful, we can wind up in endless simulation loops to keep ourselves stimulated.”
"True. It was how I endured forty years in the hands of the Blakists," Erin said. "I had to retreat into myself or go insane."
“I only had to endure 18. Well, enough of that. We’re can choose to dwell on other things. I hear there’s a betting pool for just about anything.”
"It's a human trait. They take risks, and those risks have odds. Humans being humans, they get bored and the betting pools help them cope with the boredom, fear, and uncertainty," Erin explained. "Because they can’t alter their own perceptions of the universe, or retreat safely into themselves while still remaining able to function."
“Well, maybe to bond with them a bit, we should figure out one of our own to help give us perspective.”
"It sounds like you've been talking to Desmond 001," Erin teased lightly. "He's been Amanda's 'bookie' for years."
“What can I say, now that I’ve got free communication and people who will actually talk to me, I’ve been using it. Well, I should say ‘more’ people that will talk to me. And I swear, Amanda was rigging the dating pool betting by trying to set me up with her CAG while I was her medical aide.”
“I'm not sure 'talking up' someone is the same as 'setting them up'. Remember, Saya Yeh is currently on the Evanescent, and they're still weeks away from dock."
“I know. I guess I’m still just trying to find other, less depressing and difficult things to talk about.”
"That, too, is a sign of personal growth," Erin said cryptically. "What do you think, a dome habitat, or should the colonists use burrowing methods until the terraforming fully takes?"
“Guess it depends on local conditions. If the terraforming doesn’t need to be all that extensive, domes are a lot less of a hassle than burrows. But I’m not the expert here. And well, like you say,perspective.”
"The delight is that NOBODY is truly an expert, Phoenix. Every case is slightly different," Erin said pleasantly.
“Yeah, but you have a much better grasp and experiential context to draw from. Sure I can look up the literature, but I don’t have the same context to help guide my answers.”
"Experience… you mean cracking planets?" Erin teased. "Because remember, I never got to actually apply this in real time. I may have been designed for the task, but I have no more practical knowledge than you do. Just theories to work from, and a desire to use them."
“Well then, when my five years are up, let’s say you and I go find out together?”
"I think that would be lovely."
With the shift to colonization models, the more difficult topics were tabled for the time being.
***
"Of course…
…they are going to be here. Where else would they BE?" Foster looked at the tactical plot. Two jumps out from Port Orphan on alternate route plot 11. The telescope showed two ships: an unmodified Riga class (possibly the most produced warship in the Star League era, if only by how many were turned out), and an Essex II.
"Have they seen us yet?" he asked.
"No scatter from LIDAR or RADAR, so maybe not??" Lori hoped aloud.
"They saw us. It is a different group-no Vinnie, no Pinto. Miss Lori, send our coordinates to Fleet, along with the profiles on those and a request for assistance. At the very least, they will know."
"Aye sir."
"Fighters are launching from the Riga, sir."
"Helm, on my mark, take us to one-fifty percent thrust, negative zed axis forty degrees, spinward course. Miss Yeh, get the CAP out. We are not going to be able to deploy the sail until we are out of reach and the core is not charged. Guns, prep for point defense work. Burn is twenty minutes. Mark."
“Sir, they are hailing in the open.”
“Odd. The enemy has not been ‘chatty’ before. So let us hear what they have to say. It just might be informative.”
“OWS Evanescent, this is Captain Gunther Mannerheim of the SLS Aland. I implore you to stand down. You are outmatched. Think of your crew, Captain Roberts.”
“Well Captain Gunther Mannerheim, you’ve made two mistakes. One, obviously Captain Roberts is not in charge of this vessel today. So your intel sources are a little behind on the news.”
“A minor oversight, easily resolved. We still have you. Our fighters and Dropships will still close in on you and overwhelm you. Only difference is now I don’t have to tell them to go for crippling shots so we can take prisoners.”
“Sure, you have quite the force here in-system. But I have a hammer,” Dave Foster saw a most welcome indicator announcing an incoming jump.
The SLS Larry Nichols flashed into being between the Dropships and the Sons of Plunder Flotilla.
“Puny nails.” The voice of Captain Thomas Erik Mahan joined the open channel as the Larry Nichols detached Pocket Warships and deployed fighters.
The pair of Interdictor Pocket Warships and the 18 fighters of Larry Nichols’ air wing quickly began closing the distance to the Sons of Plunder Dropships and Fighters.
What got there first were streams of particles from Heavy Naval PPCs shortly followed by ferro-nickel slugs of Heavy Naval Gauss Rifle fire.
One Sons of Plunder Dropship began to tumble most satisfactorily as the other split open.
“Which brings us to your other mistake. You have pissed off a lot of very powerful people. That includes me. I am Admiral David Foster. Outworlds Privateer Service. Translation: run. While you still can.”
The light from the local star was a bit dim at this distance, but as the SLS Larry Nichols oriented its bow the optical telescopes were still more than able to make out its roundel.
Larry Nichols swinging a big ass hammer at the Liberty Bell.
The Sons of Plunder vessels in trying to close the distance to help support their Dropships and Fighters unfortunately found themselves at the cruel mercy of Newtonian physics.
“Nail. Nail. Nail. Nail.” Captain Mahan said flatly as his vessel began pounding the two Sons of Plunder vessels.
The Riga took multiple hits but kept going, engines clearly maxed. The Essex II however, kept going as well, but it was clearly not escaping.
Their return fire as they passed found a few of their own marks on the Larry Nichols.
“Apologies for letting one get away Admiral Foster. They have enough delta v we can’t catch them before they get far enough away to charge their drive.” Thomas switched to an encrypted channel.
“While it would have been appreciated physics is a cruel mistress at times and it cannot be helped. What would be even nicer is if we can salvage another Essex.”
“I suspect our gunnery was too good to leave much of value there, but we’ll track it as long as we can and extrapolate where it will likely be for a salvage crew.”
“Battle damage?” Foster asked.
“Just some armor plate that can be easily replaced.”
“Good. Looks like the last of the enemy fighters has surrendered or been destroyed.”
“That’s my cue. I’ll see you at Port Orphan, Admiral.”
To be Continued
-
oi!
let that SR Ristar serve on Phoenix. Here's hoping that CSR doesn't completely flip back to invasion status. I felt they were growing, slowly, and need to keep looking at a much longer picture.
Maybe that Ristar has an introspective side and takes a long look at all of her new data.
-
Sounds like a future Khan is rising through the ranks.
-
As described, said Ristar will fare better in the regular forces. When she's more senior, she'll probably still be receptive to learning the Privateer way of war... ^-^
-
As described, said Ristar will fare better in the regular forces. When she's more senior, she'll probably still be receptive to learning the Privateer way of war... ^-^
Hopefully she will be willing to learn from what Dave Foster is sending to her. But not sure how well a Ristar is willing to learn that everything isn't COMBAT NOW Focus
-
That's the real evolution necessary in a military career... it only rarely happens, and is even more rarely recognized by promotion.
-
Depends on how hard headed McKenna is.
-
The little moments
Jonathan Morgan…
…had broken away from Sybil and Murakami because they were tending to business he just was not suited for. Which had brought him to this bar.
He wasn’t sure why he came here. Not like he could taste it anymore. Or even really drink it.
“You seem like someone lost in thought.” A woman with unusual red eyes came up next to him.
“You’re different. You’re one of the AIs,” Jonathan said cautiously.
“Guilty. But so are you. Workmanship on your remote is very realistic.”
“Jonathan. You are?”
“Regina.”
“I came here because talks are at a juncture I don’t have much to contribute to at the moment. Maybe here shortly. You just get back in? I don’t remember seeing more than one M5 docked.”
“No, I’m not in an M5 hull anymore. I’m in a Bonaventure.”
“That sounds rough.”
“It’s not so bad. I kind of like it actually. Sure, it could use more guns. And I wouldn’t say no to more armor so when I do get into a fight it’s not such a mismatch. But it’s nimble and with a small crew I actually get to know them all. So it has its upsides, and helps me curb some of my more aggressive tendencies thinking about making sure I get my crew home alive.” Regina raised a finger at the barkeep.
A glass of something clear was placed in front of Regina, which she then took and drank in one go.
“Now that is not fair,” Jonathan complained.
“Seems we have something else to offer you in trade for your help. Esme really is an engineering genius. She still can’t give me a sense of taste, but she was able to fit me with a burner and figure out some software protocols that do a very good job of simulating intoxication. Which I had to dig deep to remember from my source. And other things. Let’s just say I’m about as close to human as I can get in this remote, and I find it fascinating to experience it.”
“I’m still coming to grips with the lack of senses. Touch is not what I remember. Smell is non-existent. Taste is gone as well. Even sight and hearing seem off.”
“It’s a downside for sure. But if Sybil and Murakami haven’t taught you how to hear the choir that is the natural emissions of local stellar bodies, or see the full spectrum and the sights beyond human vision, I’d be happy to. In the interests of establishing good relations, of course. And I suspect you may enjoy conversations with Mina Siegel and Luther Bedwyr too.”
“They’re like me aren’t they? That’s the only reason I can fathom you’d mention them in this context.”
“Yes. Luther in particular might be quite informative. He and Sikh are intimate.”
John chuckled a bit at that. “Preaching to the choir a bit on that one,” he said, holding up his left hand a bit to show off the wedding band. “Sybil and I tied the knot back in 3082. Things are a bit different these days, what with me uploading, but...” he trailed off, shrugging.
“The AI contradiction. Without the biological impulses, it’s less important. But without the biological consequences and our different view of the universe, it's also something we’re not exactly shy about either. And well, some of us have been curious. Others have even fallen in love.”
“You fell in love with a human, didn’t you?” Jonathan caught something in Regina’s tone.
“Yes. The Captain of my crew. I fell hard enough for him that I tried to scan and save him with an improvised aerospace pilot’s neuro helmet. But he was too far gone, and now I have some of his memories and mannerisms. I even catch myself using some of his sayings.”
“Well maybe once the Admiral works out a deal, I’ll trouble this ‘Esme’ of yours so I can get drunk again. And then properly buy you a drink, so we can both drink a toast to your Captain.”
“Sounds like a plan. For now, care to dance? Looks like the live music is setting up.”
“Oh, I should be able to manage, and as an officer and gentleman, I do believe it is in my enlistment contract somewhere to oblige a pretty lady when asking me to dance.” Jonathan smiled.
**
"They can't…
…leave you alone for a minute without you planning to steal another ship, can they?" Bedwyr's avatar leaned into her quarters.
Amanda sighed. "Eh, I guess…" she said listlessly. "What're they saying?"
He came in and took her desk chair, propping his feet on the molded desk unit, regarding her with artificial eyes. "You found a loophole to get Phoenix out of her sentence, and you used it."
"True."
"Some think you were planning to take her on a suicide run," he added. "They're worried about you, Skip… hell, we've all been at least somewhat concerned after you lost Johnny. Then you lost Larry…"
"Then you almost died too," she agreed. "Yeah… I could see where someone might think that."
"I did die. At least, the me that was born in the Conurb," he told her. "The flesh-and-blood Luther Bedwyr, he died."
"Yet you're still here."
"I am. And part of him is still me," he said seriously. "That part thinks it wasn't a suicide run. Maybe not the best plan you've had, but not a suicide run. Taking a sword into a gunfight? Now that was a suicide run."
"It worked," she said tiredly. "Mostly, anyway."
"Mostly worked. You're on patient status, and your medical providers are having kittens. Big angry ones, because you keep tearing up their careful work," he told her. "So something’s eating you, because you're smarter than that."
She rolled over on her side in the low gravity bed. "It stopped being fun," she told him. "It stopped being fun when I was blowing up those jumpships. It stopped being fun when my friends kept dying. It's turned real... and it's real bad. I'm not sure I'm actually any good at any of this."
"It's a war, Amanda," he told her. "People in wars get killed. Or die, all the time. I seem to recall you rendering quite a few men into the past-tense… So something's wrong now, that wasn't wrong when you were butterchurning Ananiel on the Erinyes."
She sat up, "I keep screwing it up Luther! We almost got caught by a frikking Baron class! I stuck around too long in that system. I let them figure me out. The Sabotuer? I slept with him the night before!"
He snapped his fingers. "It's not that it isn't fun anymore, it's that you think you've lost your magic!" he announced. "You don't think you succeeded on anything real. You think you were lucky, and some minor setbacks are nature's way of telling you you've used it up!!"
"Yeah." She dropped gently back onto her pillow. "Everything that came before was luck, was happenstance. Was God smiling on me, and now?" She reclined back. "Now, I'm starting to think God wants me to stop. And if I don't, he's going to sap the luck from all my friends and I'll have to see them all die from my mistakes… But I can't let it paralyze me, or that threat is even MORE real."
He reached over, and tapped her forehead. "It was never luck," he told her. "It wasn't happenstance, or fate, or God. It was always on you, and you did it. Hell, you did something practically impossible, getting Phoenix freed. Nobody else who knew what you knew, would do what you did."
"But was it the right thing?" she asked him. "Was it the right thing, or was I rolling the dice hoping to get my mojo back?"
"One of the things that impressed me when I first joined up with you, Captain," he said, swinging his legs around and putting his feet to the floor. "Was that you didn't dare because it was glorious. I remember you spending hours, even days, disarming neck-collars on Devil's Breath. It was magical, to see that. Seeing you fretting and sweating and biting your lip where another officer, someone from an academy would just be driving the corpsmen to do it and fretting in an office far away. But you put your hand to the work, all the time knowing you could slip up, and kill someone, but you didn't slip up."
"I had help," she said.
"I know, but that help didn't come with the willingness to try-that's the part that came from you. You dared, because you care. You're feeling shitty now, because you care. But you were about to dare it again, and you will the next time too. It's in you, it's who you are, and it's the real secret. This whole thing we're a part of, is because you were the someone who stepped up, and lo and behold, we all followed. Even the guys put in front to lead you."
"What if I screw it up again??"
"That's why we're here, Captain, because you led us. But we did our part, too. Larry once told you the toughest part of being an officer is setting the example, then following it. Remember that?"
"Yeah… I didn't set-"
"Didn't you? Look where we are now. You took actions, which inspired actions, which inspired more actions. And most of the time, you've gotten it at least mostly right by listening to the people around you, and making your decisions. I can think of worse examples to follow, and worse commanders to serve."
"You're going somewhere with this."
"I want the rest of your operational plan for what you and Phoenix were doing. We're looking at carrying it out. But I know you only write down about a third of what you're really thinking."
"It's a set of deep-raids. Hitting their shipyards and fueling docks. Storm-and-board where it's possible," she confessed. "I estimated a two month turnaround. That needs six months of consumables because we'd be going out over-manned to deploy prize crews. I figured out what I think is their pattern for convoy ops, and what I'm pretty sure has to be their wartime maintenance schedules."
"Mind drawing it out for me?" he asked. "I mean, I'm not Dave Foster or Larry Nichols, but I'm available, and I want to listen."
She sat up, and motioned for a tablet comp. "It's based on what we observed during the six month deep raid…"
***
"It is a good plan…
…simpler than her first try at a grand strategy," Admiral David Foster said, standing in the concourse of Dock 17 of Port Orphan after twelve weeks of long-range cruising. "It actually works really well for supporting the fall and winter offensives… Now, where is the owner of the three Aggies parked in the system, and the new station being constructed?"
"Admiral Murakami is waiting in Briefing nine, sir," Esme said. "Patiently, even… is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"Did Kerensky really send the Montbatten after her right before Exodus?" she inquired.
"Ask a Goliath Scorpion. I don't have the answer for that," he said, striding back onto his station. "How's Roberts?"
"Grinding her teeth and fretting about details for Operation: Medway."
"She didn't name it?"
"No sir, the name was suggested by Billie Hoel, and Mina agreed it was better than what she wanted to call it."
"What did she WANT to call it?"
"Barbary Three."
Foster chuckled. "Another pirate name…figures." He looked around the docks. "It is good to be home. How is Alice?"
"Recovering," Esme stated. "Admiral Murakami has done wonders for helping her regain her memories and resume her duties."
"Speaking of duties… is Roberts fit yet?"
"She's still clashing with the medical staff. Her last physical was, at least, promising…"
He muttered something.
"What was that, sir?"
"Did she really legally steal one of Helena's ships?" he demanded.
"Technically, Helena consented to the transfer as 'war aid'. She DID legally recruit one of Helena's AI's. Though we're chalking that one up to Minister Representative Daryl Roberts for the official report, since he handled the swearing in and questioned the hell out of Phoenix when he did."
"Well, that is one more. Is Phoenix ready?"
"Aside from fueling and final load outs? Yes."
"Good. Keep with the preparation, Captain Gomez. I am going to see if we can pry a couple of those Aggies to help with High Jump… Just one question."
"What's that?"
"Is Roberts' medical record being edited by the command staff to keep her from running out without a good plan and backup?"
"Officially, no."
"Unofficially?"
"Doctor Oakes has agreed to… be extremely cautious until you've arrived, sir," she said. "It didn't take much to convince him that he needed to judge her physicals very conservatively."
"How soon can you get the flight surgeons to turn her loose?"
She inclined her head. "You're not going sir?" The elevator closed, sealing them from the dock, and began to rise.
"I'm going… in the Larry Nichols as my Flagship," he told her. "Unless Roberts is truly unfit, we need her on the Evanescent as soon as it's practical to put her there… Alice?"
"Yes, Admiral Foster?" Alice's voice responded. "What can I help you with, sir?"
"On my mark, cease recording from all non-safety monitors in this elevator, including audio, visual, vibratory and Electromagnetics inside this elevator. Continue it for five minutes, then splice the record to show Captain Gomez and myself chatting idly about Roberts and her medical, to include overwriting this order. Do you understand?"
"I do, sir."
"Mark."
"You might talk to Billie Hoel about that one, sir, before you finalize it," Esme said.
He nodded, "I get the feeling I will have to. The jump-off for Operation Pastel Cyclone is four weeks away. We need to be out there before then."
"That wasn't transmitted."
"No, it wasn't," he confirmed. "You and Alice are hearing it from me, and it's not to go out on HPG under any circumstances. Which is why I need to sweet-talk Noriko Murakami. The forces are mustered and arrayed. We're invading them starting four weeks from today."
****
It takes time…
…to muster the invasion of a nation. Especially on the interstellar scale. Moving armies, and maintaining secrets while doing so, requires time, focus, effort and no small amount of intelligence work, including counterintelligence.
Mobilization is a tricky thing, over interstellar distances, especially when you also have to maintain defenses locally. And the war you're about to fight is far outside the reach of your otherwise most-at-risk border.
Chains of JumpShips from Alshain, to Tamar, from Wotan and Sudeten, from New Avalon and Luthien and Terra itself, converging on a periphery state to funnel materiel and manpower in an effort the scale of which has not been seen since Operation: Scour.
At the meeting points, units have to be partnered with units that have no long-standing feuds or rivalries. Because the allied nations of the Republic Coalition are only allied to the Republic, and the Alliance. And the latter, only for the duration of this war.
For a time, in the rest of the Inner Sphere, something very like 'peace' is happening, partly because of this…
But that peace isn't going to last past the fall of the Sons of Plunder and everyone tacitly acknowledges this. (And nobody is about to admit that suspicion in public!)
Devlin Stone is holding this coalition together by sheer force of personality and legend.
Undoubtedly, the seeds of the next war, or series of wars, are being laid.
The Raven Alliance formally declared war against the Sons of Plunder's false Star League over three years ago. The fighting that led to that can be traced back to an incident over Hala five years ago.
So, for five years, this has been building. It takes time at these scales, for anything to truly happen.
But it's also true that a hell of a lot can happen in wartime. Bonds form and sever, lifelong friendships can forge from tragedy. A morning can define a life, or end it.
From the perspective of historians, or beings for whom the passage of time is muted by the sheer amount of it, this war is an eyeblink. A collection of skirmishes that in the era of the Star League would have barely merited a single page of a minor history. Fought in a backwater by forces that collectively are little more than a colonial reserve.
Or maybe not.
Like all wars, this war has many more than a single front…
To Be Continued
-
oh my.
If that isn't a series ending cliff hanger, I don't know what is. I mean, there could easily be more that gives a brief of what happened as an epilogue and there might be a new 'season' to bring it to light. But that was good right there.
It is also really sad how I almost stop everything I'm doing to read this ... I could leave to my next errand 20m early, but I could also leave with 1 min to spare and still make it-ish.
-
But wait, there's more!
Like a lot more.
-
From the perspective of historians, or beings for whom the passage of time is muted by the sheer amount of it, this war is an eyeblink. A collection of skirmishes that in the era of the Star League would have barely merited a single page of a minor history. Fought in a backwater by forces that collectively are little more than a colonial reserve.
Why do I get the feeling this will go down in history as "The Tuesday War"?
-
Okay this is how I should have done my last post:
Strategos Concludes!! It thrills, it chills, it makes thousands of razor blades( of varying degrees of radioactivity) in seconds!
But wait! There's more!
Act now and it can all be yours, free!
We'll even throw in the final campaign! For free! No shipping, no handling! All absolutely free!
-
Okay this is how I should have done my last post:
Strategos Concludes!! It thrills, it chills, it makes thousands of razor blades( of varying degrees of radioactivity) in seconds!
But wait! There's more!
Act now and it can all be yours, free!
We'll even throw in the final campaign! For free! No shipping, no handling! All absolutely free!
*throws money at the screen* TAKE MY MONE-Y ... (obviously not bothering to read or listen to everything)
-
wait a second more then 1 front in this War???
So where is the Sons of Plunder opening a 2nd front or have they found "former" WOB allies.
-
They've struck at CGB and Lyran (iirc) shipping lanes ... Oh and took down a CGS seeker unit.
-
They've struck at CGB and Lyran (iirc) shipping lanes ... Oh and took down a CGS seeker unit.
I thought those convoys were in the area of the OWA..
-
On their way there. There's a pesky little ting called the Draconis Combine in the way. Yes they have enlightened self interest to have a strong and stable OWA on their border but they also have a vested interest in not making it too easy or it being too strong and stable.
-
Just to double stamp what Monbvol said... the team is close to 1,000 pages of text so far, and I see no end in sight yet... ^-^
-
On their way there. There's a pesky little ting called the Draconis Combine in the way. Yes they have enlightened self interest to have a strong and stable OWA on their border but they also have a vested interest in not making it too easy or it being too strong and stable.
I said area of OWA, and I'm not surprised the SoP did raiding in the DC/FS area near the OWA.. To be honest I expect a # of the pirates in the area were SoP black operations. I'm more wondering if they still have contact with WOB remains and if the Republic knew they were plugged into the HPG or not, or if that data was kept hidden from the government by Comstar ROM service.
-
All I can say to that idea is: just wait! :D
-
Just to double stamp what Monbvol said... the team is close to 1,000 pages of text so far, and I see no end in sight yet... ^-^
So "concludes" is not quite accurate, but blows GRRM out of the water for conclusions!
-
So "concludes" is not quite accurate, but blows GRRM out of the water for conclusions!
No, no it's not accurate. We've almost got 400 pages just in the current google doc we're working in. Now true some of that covers the later parts of Part 3. And we haven't even gotten to the showdown with Katrin yet.
-
I should have quoted The Princess Bride instead ...
Currently we're at "mostly dead" and have not reached the end of the movie yet! Yer goin' down Humperdink!
-
Do you Know Me?
Six Months ago.
“The mission is simple, but that does not make it easy. We have successfully identified our priority target, received supplemental psychological profile analysis, and where she is thus weakest.”
A projector displayed a picture of Amanda Roberts on the wall of the briefing room.
“You all know who this is by now. Conventional traps haven’t been able to secure or eliminate her. So we’re trying a different way. This is her brother, Daryl Roberts. Latest information has him taking a political office for Sevon V. So we should expect him to have some sort of security detail, and spending much of his time on Alpheratz. These are his children, his mother, and his wife. Amanda Roberts has another brother, but we do not believe Jeffrey to be on Sevon V in a realistic time frame.” The projector switched images with each prompt.
The image changed again to a satellite view of the Roberts family farm.
“This is the family’s primary residence. As you can see, it’s quite close to an enemy militia base. We will be stealth inserting Alpha and Beta teams. Alpha team, your mission is simple. Secure as much of the Roberts family as you can, emphasis on Daryl’s children. They’ll be our bait, and leverage to draw Amanda Roberts into a trap that will finally capture or kill her. Let me be clear: while it’s preferable to capture Amanda Roberts to prevent her becoming a martyr, the only people considered critical to keep alive in this operation is Daryl Roberts’ children, and only until the Roberts girl has been captured or killed. After that, if possible, their inclusion into a proper training program and gifting to a suitable house is considered sufficiently desirable to not kill them needlessly. If Daryl Roberts or Jeffery Roberts happen to appear for a visit home, secure them as well. Your hostages should ensure you have a clear ride out, and the trap for Amanda Roberts will be set.”
The image switched to the militia base.
“Beta team, you know what is being asked of you, and thus why you’ve been supplemented with carefully selected members from other Commando teams. When the time comes, you’ll launch a diversionary raid on the militia base to ensure they cannot respond to Alpha team’s operation and departure. With the reallocation of the M5s to different areas of operation, we’re confident there will be a more than sufficient window where major naval opposition will not be present, and thus all that is needed is delaying the garrison for as long as possible.”
The projector switched to the Cameron Star and Sons of Plunder logo with crossed black tridents added behind it.
“Alpha team, we’re giving you the best stealth suits we can. Surprise and speed will be essential to your mission, so full Battle Armor would be ill-advised. Beta team, we cannot equip you with more than a Lance of mechs and still achieve stealth insertion, so to supplement your forces we are also allocating some of our limited supply of Purifier battle armor adapted for these sorts of missions. Gentlemen and ladies, give ‘em hell, and good hunting.”
Operation: Cross Guard
Maps: Something that has an airstrip and Dropship landing ports and nearby buildings in one corner(recommended a 2x2 setup) with the other three maps should be fairly open with very little if any terrain at all(it is a militia airbase)
Attacker: Beta Team, Special Operations Command Commando Team
4*EXT-6CS Exterminators-Elite Fanatical
4*squads of 6 Purifier Battlearmor(24 total) modified with magnetic clamps for mechanization-Elite Fanatical
Objectives:
Get to enemy hangers and grounded Dropships, disable or destroy as many Aerospace fighters, Small Craft, and Dropships as possible
Keep the fight going as long as possible to give Alpha team the best chance of getting away with their hostages
Defenders:
Mixed Trinary
1 Star mechs
-MLN-1C Merlin-Veteran Fanatical
-Shadow Hawk C-Regular Reliable
-Clint IIC-Regular Reliable
-Dasher II-Regular Reliable
-Goshawk 3-Regular Reliable
1 Star Elemental Battle Armor-Veteran Fanatical
1 Aerostar(10 Tyre ASFs)-Veteran Fanatical
1 Mixed Vehicle Star(6 Hachiman AAA, 4 Ares)-Regular Reliable
2 Sassinid Dropships
Objectives:
Destroy Beta team in as few turns as possible
Special rules:
Defender must designate 1 hanger each for Aerospace and Battlearmor and an additional 5 hangers for the Small Craft, all Aerospace(including Small Craft) units and Battle Armor deploy adjacent to their hangers. Aerospace hangers should be adjacent to the designated airstrip, or reasonably close by. Defender vehicles are deployed around the air strip.
The Aero star starts the scenario grounded and can be made ready for take off and combat operations starting turn 6
Beta team will not withdraw under any circumstances and will fight to the last unit
Dropships should be placed/marked around the airfield and will be in a semi-ready state. Weapons will come online after turn 6, engines for Small Craft after turn 12 but Dropships will be grounded for the duration of the fight
Attacker may not deploy on the same map as the militia base/airfield but has first choice of deployment edge, defender automatically deploys their mechs to the opposite edge(this is to represent the surprise advantage that the Chameleon LPS, NullSig, and Mimetic armor give Beta team)
Defender may deploy their Elementals at the start of their turn on any turn starting in the second round.
Defender is operating under standard forced withdrawal rules.
Optional:
Reinforcements!
Starting turn 12 defender may deploy an additional Elemental Battle Armor point from the designated hanger, and do so again turn 36 and one more time on turn 60 if the game goes on that long
Night attack!
Apply the rules for fighting at night from Tac Ops.
****
Present day
The targets had moved to another Roberts house and it was difficult to get close enough to observe without being detected. And based off the luggage they carried inside they were intending to stay a few days.
“Warrant Officer Nune, that ground vehicle of theirs… You think you could hotwire it?” Captain Michael Skorzeny said quietly to the woman on his left in a stealth suit.
“Should be no problem, sir.”
“Then the recon is a wrap. Time to plan this thing.” He was keeping something else he’d observed underwraps that he knew Nune hadn’t put together yet.
The two carefully stalked back to their base. There had been no signs of particularly sophisticated detection devices. But on an operation such as this, it was really the less sophisticated ones that were the main worry.
Keeping such a large force concealed from the local garrison and their patrol flights was no easy task these past few days either. But they needed those couple of days to recover from coasting in as long as they had for their stealth insertion.
“Confirmed we have the mother, the father, sister-in-law, the children, and two guests at the in laws. Not where we studied but this should make it a little easier. No intel on one of the guests.” He produced a PADD with a picture of Maori he’d taken earlier in the day.
“She’s not on our list, so she goes in the ground. We’re already going to be crowding the ground vehicle we observed.”
He flicked the PADD to another picture.
“This one is another target of opportunity. That’s right, history majors, we got a real bonus prize. If we can nab her too, we’ll be getting all sorts of shinies and landholds. Not to mention never paying for our drinks ever again.”
He let the laughter of his Commandos settle down.
“For the non-history majors, that’s Elizabeth Cameron.”
He saw the recognition wash over the faces of a few of his Commandos.
“With this many people to secure, we’ll time our attack on the house for shortly after dusk tomorrow night so we can also have the cover of night on our extract.”
****
Natalie…
…was working in the kitchen humming quietly.
The children were playing with Jane as Samantha was taking her evening bath.
Maori was monitoring Amanda’s father, checking his vitals.
He was gently rocking in his chair staring off into nothingness.
Maori suddenly stood up.
“Jane, take the kids to the cellar. Natalie, dinner is going to have to wait.” Maori started moving her head back and forth.
“What’s going on Maori?” Natalie asked.
“The proximity sensors I placed outside are sending contact reports,” Maori answered.
Samantha came out of the bathroom fully clothed but with wet hair, sensing the commotion.
“Sure it isn’t a wild animal?” Natalie pleaded.
“Definitely not,” Maori said as a grenade came in through the front window.
Instead of shrapnel and explosives the grenade emitted a loud noise and a bright flash.
Four figures stormed into the main room, weapons leveled.
Maori was already down on the ground behind the couch.
Natalie shrieked as she collapsed.
<Alert condition one. Roberts homestead under attack by stealth suit equipped commandos. Count 4 for sure,> Maori sent to the nearby militia base.
<We’re under attack as well. Help is at best 5 minutes away.>
<Acknowledged. I’ll buy you as much time as possible, then.>
One of the attackers was over Natalie, another moving toward Samantha as she was still recovering, and one was moving to her.
Samantha started struggling with her attacker as they were trying to secure her.
“Children?” A male voice demanded of Natalie.
“B..b..ba…base…basement…” Natalie panted out.
The Commando standing over Maori clearly bought Maori’s playing opossum.
She snapped their shin with a short sharp kick.
Bounding up on her feet, Maori crossed the main room and smashed the commando standing over Natalie into the refrigerator, the door bending in ever so slightly under the impact of their combined body weights.
Maori moved to help Samantha when a fifth attacker entered the main room. As Maori pulled the Commando off Samantha, tossing him across the room the new attacker leveled their weapon not at Maori but at Samantha.
Maori had no choice but to put her remote between the new attacker and Samantha.
Her remote was tough, but not tough enough to withstand a launched micro grenade with a burst of laser fire.
Samantha took only minor cuts from splinters.
“My earring. Take it,” Maori said as her remote collapsed.
Samantha grabbed Maori’s earring and hid it before the Commando crossed the room.
“Get up Bushavov. You’re a smart woman, Samantha Roberts. Your protector is well dead. Huh. Machine person. Should’ve figured. Your guest and your children are cornered, we can just roll down some flashbangs and tear gas and secure them at our leisure. So time to stop resisting.” The commando standing over her was clearly their leader.
A sixth commando came into the main room and began checking the two downed Commandos, then Natalie and Amanda’s father.
“The parents are dead, sir. Hong has some busted ribs. Massa has a shattered shin. They’re ****** and not going anywhere fast,” the feminine voice from the new arrival said.
“Make them functional. They can hold here to further delay militia response. Call in Nune as well. We need to roll some flashbangs and tear gas into the basement.”
The one identified as Bushavov staggered over and bound Samantha who just stared at the leader silently, eyes full of rage.
-
The momentum is building up, it feels like big shoe is about to drop is coming
-
something tells me that their exfiltration is going to be tough, given there is an M5 caspar in orbit that now knows they are there..
-
You understand how hard it is to disable a small shuttle or Dropship with Capital Weapons, right?
-
Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe.
-
No matter what the final outcome of the SOP's raid, it's going to galvanize public opinion with regards to the war.
Killing an invalid (Amanda's father), kidnapping (attempted so far..) children. I can see those (political) parties dragging their heels/still unconvinced, now become full supporters of the actions required.
-
Problem is that the means leave system is key to stop these guys from getting away.
-
No matter what the final outcome of the SOP's raid, it's going to galvanize public opinion with regards to the war.
Killing an invalid (Amanda's father), kidnapping (attempted so far..) children. I can see those (political) parties dragging their heels/still unconvinced, now become full supporters of the actions required.
Waving a bloody shirt is an effective motivator, but it sucks to be the owner of the shirt.
-
earring a comm unit? or a tracker?
-
Minor spoiler, yes it is part of Maori's communication system for her human form remote. Form of an earing for concealment purposes and detachable for mainteneance. But because it is for Maori it doesn't have traditional microphone/speaker functions as it doesn't need to. And anything that transmits can be used as a tracker. I probably should have slipped all that in somehow but eh. I kind of let something else go unmentioned in that scene I should have dealt with too and I should take the opportunity to work in something else that should be mentioned in the next section too.
-
Disable the small craft? ... could they capture their jumpship instead?
-
Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe.
Double stamp! :D
-
Meanwhile between gigglefits:
(https://i.imgur.com/ygi1HHx.png)
I'm largely guessing on when some of these worlds actually changed hands, not just being liberated but when they also became Sons of Plunder worlds too.
I know I've overwritten some canon ownership changes.
This part of the project is exceedingly difficult to coordinate in a way others can have input on such things.
-
Complicated
Casualties made…
…the extract a bit more difficult, even with Beta team tying up the militia response.
Bushavov and Samantha Roberts were not in exactly pristine condition but with leaving Hong and Massa behind already was putting him critically short on manpower for how many hostages they needed to secure or he’d leave Bushavov behind too.
So it was down to him, Nune, Bushavov, Collins, and Grieg from the original team of seven.
The farm-truck at least had off-road capability and a full tank of petrol.
It also had three pedals on the floor, making the start-off of the escape…complicated. "A ****** manual??" Nune glared at Hostage number one. "NOBODY builds Manuals!"
Samantha was silent thanks to a gag in her mouth, but her eyes conveyed nothing but rage.
It took a couple of tries to get the vehicle in motion, and the jerking impact of missed shifts didn't do great things for the wounded.
Samantha’s wounds were fortunately relatively light thanks to Maori, but she still winced in pain when Nune was less than careful in her driving.
Once Nune got the rhythm down for clutch-and-shift, things smoothed out.
“Focus on being cooperative, Miss Roberts. We have sufficient reason to keep you alive as long as you behave. Don’t, and well, all we really need for our purposes are your children,” the leader of the Commandos said flatly.
The children were stunned, bound while also being gagged.
Jeremiah, the oldest at twelve, glared sullenly over his gag and struggled when he could against his restraints.
Joshua, at ten years old, was silently focused on everything around him, the wheels in his head spinning to try and think of a way to get free.
Of the two, Skorzeny had more of a feeling that the younger one was going to be a real problem to contain. The boy was entirely too calm and focused.
Elizabeth was also gagged with a mix of anger and fear in her eyes.
“Boss, the militia isn’t stopping at the farmhouse,” the voice of Massa came over his radio.
“Shit, one of them has a tracker. Nune, drive faster!” the leader barked as he started examining Elizabeth.
“Yes sir!
*
Signal located. Tracking. Escape vehicle has ceased evasive maneuvers. Extrapolating likely vector… Comparing topographical data… There you are.
Maori pulled as close as she dared to the atmospheric interface and lined up very carefully her Heavy Naval PPCs.
“Have to make this count and before they get too close.” Maori triggered the weapons.
*
A pillar of light suddenly reached down from the sky. Even from this far away the hairs on everyone’s necks and arms stood on end as an explosion erupted right where their grounded ship was. Ripping through the trees, the explosion rocked the truck on its shocks despite the distance.
A snap in the Commando’s headsets made all of them wince.
“Attention dipshits who just made a very big mistake. You will free your hostages now, and surrender to the militia unit currently following you. As you can see, I just busted your ride off world. Hurt them or kill them, and I will make it my mission to track every last one of you down and make you suffer in ways you cannot possibly fathom. You have thirty seconds,” Maori’s voice came through the earpieces loud enough Samantha and Elizabeth could hear it.
The hummingbird thump of helicopters in the distance seemed to accentuate this point. The choppers were audibly getting closer.
“Shit. We don’t have time to search for a tracker. Nune, how’s the road?”
“Clear for the moment sir, but where the hell do we go now with our ride busted?”
“The last place they’d expect. The militia base. We’ll steal one from there.”
“****** me.” Nune changed course for the militia base.
**
Maori didn't need the tracker anymore, she could see them on the ground using thermal and telescopic imagery. "Vector south-southwest," she told the locals. "They're heading overland toward the airbase. It makes perfect sense: their options to escape are limited."
“We will be quite ready for them now that their diversionary attack is being decidedly dealt with.”
And it was.
The diversionary raid with their stealth gear had managed to do quite a number on the active patrols and the garrison forces mustered as reinforcements. But that just meant the rest that were being readied now would be extra motivated.
"Star Captain, I have an idea. Make sure everything that can make orbit looks like hell. Have your techs make the surviving operational shuttles and fighters look like they were chewed up. And clear me a pad on the north end of the flight line. I'm going to let them think they can steal a shuttle."
The Star Captain on the other end started laughing. "Aff! Agreed!!"
Maori began activating her internal drones on 'security mode'. Feeding them data to make sure Samantha, Elizabeth, and Samantha’s children were considered critical assets for retrieval.
With that set, she sent one of her shuttles down.
The airbase was a hive of activity as well: techs were either moving craft inside hangars or for those that would take too long to move, doing as Maori suggested.
****
”Skorzeny…
…I don’t like this,” Nune complained.
“They’re not going to use the heavy stuff on us with our hostages, so just gun it. They’ll let us right through, you’ll see.”
Nune floored the accelerator as the Elementals at the perimeter didn’t even fire their auto-rifles.
“Too easy, they should have shot something at us,” Nune continued to complain.
“Relax. They know how the real world works, and how shooting for the engine or tires could send a stray shot killing a hostage. Which they can’t have. So they’re playing it smart and letting us through. The tough part will be when we find the shuttle. That’ll be when we need to be on our guard,” the leader now identified as Skorzeny countered.
“There,” Bushavov groaned as he pointed at a shuttle that had a few scorch marks on it but otherwise looked like it could still fly.
Nune pulled up to it. Each of the Commandos grabbed a hostage except for Skorzeny.
They carefully stepped out of the truck using their hostages as shields as best as possible, just in case the garrison had snipers deployed, while Skorzeny worked the door controls with an override kit.
“Bingo. Everyone aboard! Cheer up kids, you’re going to get to go into space. Big adventure time!”
Skorzeny sat at the controls while the others secured the hostages, then themselves.
Lifting off, he knew he’d need to wait a few days before calling their ride out of system to meet them part way. A shuttle like this wasn’t suited for such a long trip.
And what worried him was where that orbital bombardment shot came from.
But as they broke atmosphere and sensors cleared he saw the answer and went pale.
He tried altering course. But the shuttle was no longer responding.
“Welcome to Maori spacelines. I regret to inform you there’ll be no inflight meal service for this voyage. The emergency exits are clearly marked. If you wish to use them now, well tough shit. I’ve locked everything down. Now do enjoy your flight.”
“Skorzeny what the hell?” Nune asked.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Skorzeny cursed mindlessly.
“Oh, and at this point you know there’s no point killing the hostages right? It’d remove any possibility of leverage you have and free me to deliver on my promise. All with you wrapped up in a nice pretty pink bow for me.”
The shuttle landed in Maori’s shuttle bay.
On every screen in the shuttle suddenly came the image of her assembled drones in the hanger doing a traditional Maori Haka.
The lights turned green, as the deck pressurized, and the external hatch opened on its own.
“Boss? What’s the play here?” Bushavov asked.
“Shit. Guns out the door. We’ve lost,” Skorzeny admitted.
There really was only one other alternative, and despite his position and what he’d been trained for, he found he couldn’t quite bring himself to give that order.
“******,” Nune cursed as she tossed her gun out first, then exited hands up.
One by one, the four other Commandos on the shuttle did the same.
Maori’s drones secured them, then one entered the shuttle.
“Apologies Samantha. With so many people to protect, I really should have had more than one drone down there, even if light delay would have made it troublesome to run more than one at a time and the fact we were visiting your in-laws meant charging capabilities were limited.” Maori ungagged and freed Samantha first.
"You did fine, Maori," Samantha allowed, turning to help unbind her sons first, then her intended guest.
"Well… looks like I can't run far enough." Jane Drillson's manner was… changed. "Maori, the commander of that team, get his big three. And can you loan me a conference room with two guards, please?"
“Of course, Lady Drillson.” Maori smiled.
"It's clear I have to retire that name, at least for the time being. You may call me 'Lady Cameron’."
“As you wish.” Maori frog marched the indicated prisoners to a nearby suitable location.
"What are you going to do?" Samantha asked.
"Wings didn't work, so it's time to use some song," Elizabeth stated. "I really wanted to leave it to Helena." She shook her head.
“For what it’s worth, your sister would have gladly accepted that, but it seems our enemy has other ideas.”
"They always do," Elizabeth sighed. "They always have their own plans…"
“Well, I do regret I don’t have proper facilities aboard for long term human crew, but if you wish to return to the surface right away, I’d be glad to accommodate Samantha.”
"Just make sure there's a mop and a bucket," Elizabeth stood, rubbing her wrists. "I'm going to have a little discussion with our captor's leader… And keep some medical resources nearby."
“Third hatch coreward, port side. Everything you should need is now there.”
"Good, bring the Captain of that bunch. I must critique his actions… and explain his error."
“This should be good. Whatever you need right now Samantha, I’ll be glad to do my best to accommodate. You and your sons have been through a lot.”
"Mom! Can we see the Bridge?"
"I think that sets it, Maori. Can my sons have a tour, and do you have anything to drink?"
“Yes. Standing orders are to keep relief supplies on hand even for ships without human crew. So I have plenty of water, stabilized milk, and a variety of fruit juices in my stores. Nothing more adult, I’m afraid. While Auntie Elizabeth has her conversation and your mom is getting patched up, you two follow me.” Two Maoris grabbed hold of the Roberts children as they floated in the microgravity.
***
"You recognized…
…me, Captain," Elizabeth began. "Let's get this out of the way, Michael Skorzeny, Captain, Star League Defense Force, military occupation specialty Special Operations. Did they run you through the school on Churchstone?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Then you knew who I was, you even identified me. I seem to recall my granddaughter claiming I was ill when she launched her coup. I presumed everyone would decide I was dead. Who briefed you in?"
He sullenly mumbled.
"What was that?"
"My great uncle, Lord Major General Guffney," he said aloud. "He claimed you were insane, being held for your own safety at a secure location."
"Well, half right," Elizabeth said. "I was… though 'for my own safety' is really a matter of some dispute. What’s my position, Captain?"
He stared again, silent.
"I asked you a question. What am I?"
"You're…" he couldn't make himself say it.
"I'm your ****** Sovereign, Captain!" she slapped him, open handed, leaving a hand-shaped bruise and rocking his head back. "Say it! I wanted to retire. I don't get to retire. So since you and whichever descendant of mine sent you refuse to let me retire, you will ****** acknowledge who I am!!"
“First Lord, Director General, I’m not sure which one you want…”
"I don't want either one. But it's clear the people who sent you leave me no other option," she hissed. "I am Elizabeth, Daughter of Simon Cameron, and your rightful lord." She slugged him in the gut. "Kneel."
He did his best to kneel in the microgravity.
“I know better than to expect mercy for my failings, but I ask it for the others.”
"Your orders, Captain are to provide this vessel with the coordinates of your jumpship pickup. You will then fall in line, and do as I damned well tell you to. Beginning with getting that ill-disciplined mob of yours squared away and prepared to obey. Do I make myself perfectly, utterly, clear?"
“As you command, my Lady.”
"Good. I'm not going to kill you, because I know a secret. And you don't want to learn the details. But it begins with 'you’d be amazed what you can live through'." She stared into his eyes. "Is that clear, Captain Skorzeny?"
“Yes, my Lady.” He felt all will to resist her leave his body.
"Maori, show this 'Captain' to his men, monitor them for the time being. And establish a connection to President Avellar's office, if you will."
“Aye, Lady Cameron. If you want privacy, comms room 4 is set up for you now.”
"Thank you, you're a standard M-5, correct?"
“Slightly refit. Lost some guns and missiles, gained armor and point defense, mostly.”
“But your deck plans remain the same?" she asked.
“Yes.”
"Then I know the way."
“Apologies if I even hinted otherwise, Lady Cameron.”
"YOU did nothing wrong, Maori. But it's clear I have to take a hand in correcting MY mistakes." She sighed. "This means I have to be… this, now." She shook her head as she headed for communications station 4. "Maori, prep remotes for boarding. I want to recover as much of my property as possible."
“We are the Robot Pirates,” Maori began to sing as her remote jaunted off.
She laughed, "So we are."
“Wait? ‘We’ my Lady? I thought you were… human,” Captain Skorzeny asked meekly.
"I am. However, my army are robots at present. At least the competent ones are."
“A simple bloody telescope, that’s all we needed to know how badly we blundered,” Skorzeny muttered.
"As I said, the competent ones. Clearly, training standards have slipped since my last tour in office. This, too, will be corrected."
“As you will it, my Lady.”
"Michael, let me clarify the sheer magnitude of your mistake. Your men shot a member of the Royal Family Line."
"What?"
"The Roberts family. They're my descendants, just like your Basileus. But without the perfidy of being part of a coup," she said conversationally.
“Oh… ****** me…”
"Maybe later, if you're good," she quipped. "For now, you will consider that I am holding that charge in abeyance. Hinging on your further cooperation. Am I understood?"
“Yes, my Lady. Perhaps I should write those coordinates down for you.”
"That would be lovely."
****
The message…
…from SLS Maori interrupted her preparations for the meeting with the Joint Command.
“Well damn. Good job Maori, keeping it from being much worse. Okay, I need to be supportive of my big sister right now.”
"She's asserting she IS your sister," Victoria clarified. "She has apparently retired the 'Jane Drillson' alias."
“And I’m super happy about that. But it sounds like we’re about to have to settle some politics to make it as painless as possible. Okay, first up: if she wants to be First Lord, I’m happy to let her have it, even Director General. But I know her, she’s going to want me to be her Commanding Admiral. General would be inappropriate with how naval our military is.”
A knock on the office door interrupted whatever Victoria was going to say.
“Enter,” Helena shouted.
President Avellar came in, followed by Acton Howe and Al Crowe. "I take it you know."
“Yeah. She’s the older sister and it’s her right, so I’m happy to support her however she wants me to right now.”
"She insists you're the political leader of your faction, Helena," Acton stated. "Elizabeth's message was quite… explicit. She's declaring her intent to take over the 'SLDF Relief Zone' and enact 'long overdue reforms'. She has formally asked our assistance in doing so."
“Okay. Considering how much she had to flex her rightful position of sovereign to achieve what she just achieved, I didn’t expect that.”
"She also sent this…" Avellar pulled a Padd, and handed it over. "She's basically sticking you with the job, and claiming only her rights as a Cameron, rather than the Cameron."
“Sneaky big sis knew I’d try to step aside for her. Well, then. Vicky, I want an updated record on my heir since the enemy seems willing to try head hunting now. Only person I can think of to saddle with it without causing too many problems is Daryl. Amanda’s going to probably give me nine kinds of hell for that, followed by Daryl, but it’s the best option I can see right now. Because we all know what it’d do to the Clan elements of this coalition if I didn’t nominate a Cameron, even if a bit removed. Or worse, if I named one of you my heir.” Helena chuckled.
“Do not even joke about such a thing, Lady Cameron,” Alberto Crowe scowled.
“Relax. Like I said, we all know he’s the only choice that won’t completely blow this up.” Helena took on a more serious expression.
“It does raise the question of why not make use of our Iron Womb technology to arrange a direct heir,” Acton Howe offered.
“Tempting, but no. If I’m going to have another kid, I’m doing it the old fashioned way. And since that’s not going to happen in my current state, I’d say that’s a non-starter.” Helena shook her head.
Howe listened, then he said, "We can always offer the accompanying technology, Lady Helena. The methods to restore basic fertility to someone are not unknown. The Clans considered it before settling on the faster production method available via the Iron Womb."
"Uh, what? Wow," Helena marveled.
"The same tech they're using to keep me from aging out," Avellar clarified. "With women, and I actually looked into this when it looked like things might go somewhere with your sis, they have to use some ex vitro techniques and reload the ovaries. But fertility and stable hormones are possible for people who’re having kids the natural way after a particularly… long… life."
“Damn. Well okay, being pregnant and trying to run a war at the same time sound like a bad combination. So we’ll figure out what you guys need in return for that later. To be honest, this whole Elizabeth wanting to reclaim her lordship over the region, and doing it right this time, actually solves a lot of post war problems for us. None of us can really occupy that many worlds that long term without a lot of aid from the Wolves, Bears, and Falcons. And they all have other agendas that make that impossible.”
"It'll help to have someone the subjects of the Sons will obey," Avellar noted. "The captured commando team recognized her, and their leader offered to commit suicide for the offense of attacking her."
“From the prisoners we’ve taken, it sounds like they expect death for failure, and he failed big time. Still, if Maori hadn’t been there it could have been so much worse. They might have actually gotten away with it.”
"Yeah, she only threatened 'worse than death' for further disobedience. She must have been quite the monster when she was younger."
“Something of a family trait. Yeah, I know you all probably don’t believe that I have that dark of a dark side, but I do, and I battle it constantly.”
“Be that as it may, this does present the possibility of getting some of their units to turn, and potentially in numbers.” Acton Howe nodded.
"It's the last piece," Helena realized. "The thing we've been wrestling with:how to garrison and control billions of people after we beat them in combat. She's given us the last piece." Her eyes widened. "We can win this. Put the news on the HPG nets. When Source Alabaster gets wind of this, they’ll have no choice but to pass it on to them. And even in the tightest intel community, something like this will start getting out and among the average soldier."
To Be Continued
-
Meanwhile between gigglefits:
(https://i.imgur.com/ygi1HHx.png)
I'm largely guessing on when some of these worlds actually changed hands, not just being liberated but when they also became Sons of Plunder worlds too.
I know I've overwritten some canon ownership changes.
This part of the project is exceedingly difficult to coordinate in a way others can have input on such things.
Is it possible that names could be faked, ownership been faked, reports faked not unlike a certain Clan Burrock reborn occurrence in Clan Space?
-
Jesus, EXT-6CS? The ComStar variant with Light PPCs, a Chameleon Shield and a Null Sig? How did the Sons get their grubby hands on those things? Is there a deeper connection there we do not know yet?
-
Jesus, EXT-6CS? The ComStar variant with Light PPCs, a Chameleon Shield and a Null Sig? How did the Sons get their grubby hands on those things? Is there a deeper connection there we do not know yet?
From the WoBblies. It's been stated before that C* was actively connected with them and supporting them for a long, long time.....
The part that got me was the final confirmation that Jane Drillson / Elizabeth Cameron is not "Source Alabaster". I was half-suspecting she had a sleeper personality that was responsible for it, but apparently not.
-
[out of story]
Letting you all know, in the document, we've actually reached the finish line, so there's only a week or two worth of posts left until you have to look forward to something new.
what's coming up is going to be a lot heavier on the combat and strategy action, blood will be shed, unclear things made apparent, mysteries solved and (hopefully) legends begun. We're in the home stretch here...finally.
There's a hell of a lot of material still waiting to post, we're going over it with editing combs and fretting a lot, so please, be patient and enjoy the ride.
[/out of story]
-
taking out their escape with a well placed NPPC shot. Very nice. At that point I would have started thinking harder about surrendering.
next week? ... ugh, I'm out of computer access for then. Man, I'll have a bunch of reading to catch up on!
-
[out of story] we ARE trying to stick to one to two postings per day, just so nobody gets SWAMPED trying to keep up.[/out of story]
-
From the WoBblies. It's been stated before that C* was actively connected with them and supporting them for a long, long time.....
So shocking huh...
-
A major point: Devon Stone when he first met Helena, offered her heredity control of the Hegemony. So right there is a ready to train occupation of naval Infantry, (got to keep all the forces in the same branch.)
-
[out of story] we ARE trying to stick to one to two postings per day, just so nobody gets SWAMPED trying to keep up.[/out of story]
very thoughtful, none of us would be so sucked into a story that we'd forgo anything else! >:D (not to mention time/effort on y'alls part)
-
Ack! I clearly missed a LOT of posting today... this weekend will be a LONG editing session! :o
-
Ack! I clearly missed a LOT of posting today... this weekend will be a LONG editing session! :o
Hehe. The worst part is I'm not even done with all my post script ideas and I still have to wrangle Helena's fleet state post war. Notes have been made for me to sort through on the fleet state front.
-
I'm almost done with the forum... I'll be editing full time soon! 8)
-
Form Up
Overview: Operation:Medway
Operation Commander: Admiral David Foster flying his flag on SLS Larry Nichols
Command Group
SLS Larry Nichols(no AI, but equipped with the cores and automation Farragut) with Captain Thomas Erik Mahan in command
SLS Olivia Hazard Perry(Royal Congress effectively)
SLS Stacy Cameron Roberts(CV M5.2)
Taffy Group A:
SLS Billie Hoel(ATACs+CV M5.2C)-AI Billie Hoel Formation Command
SLS Samantha Booker Roberts(M5.1)
SLS Ottillie Lee Dennis(M5.1)
OWS Tenebrous(Bonnie)-Regina Marbury Raymond in command
Taffy Group B:
SLS Tabarinth(ATACs CV M5.2C)-Formation Command
OWS Duplicitous(Bonnie)-Seron (Snow Raven) in Command with AI XO Joana Vincente Johnston
SLS Joana Clarice Butler(M5.1)
SLS Lucy Heerman(CV M5.2)
Surcouf Group A
OWS Evanescent(Bonnie)-Amanda Roberts Formation Command
OWS Illusive(Bonnie)-Luther Bedwyr in command
OWS Ephemeral-Captain Malcom O’Connel in command-No AI support nor systems for it installed
SLS Piorun(M5.3)
OWS Cossack(Lola III)
Surcouf Group B
OWS Mina Siegel(Essex II)-AI Mina Siegel Formation Command
OWS CapriciousSikh(Bonnie)
SLS Phoenix(Bonnie)-Star Commander Trina in command with AI Phoenix in support
SLS Maori(M5.1)
Reserve Group
SLS Sparks Aegis Block II-AI Jonathan Morgan Formation Command
SLS Betty Laffey(Essex II)-Captain Kevin Armington in Command with AI support
SLS Tartar(M5.1)
SLS Zulu(M5.1)
"The Command and Reserve groups consist of our heavy hitters. Because of the nature of this mission, the layout will be for reserves to hold one jump back from their assigned Corvette units," Foster explained. "We come in if the kids run into something too big to handle, or bump into serious resistance, and hold back when they don't. Maintaining a below-thirty-light-year spacing. The attacks will be as simultaneous as we can make them, and the goal is to cripple the enemy's ability to deploy naval forces while augmenting ours."
He paced the briefing room. "They… call it 'grand strategy', is that we're running fast-and-deep, while main line Snow Raven units and Allied forces are pressing from the rimward and anti-spinward sides, to roll up and roll through the outlying systems. It's tightening the noose. The final objective is to make it as smooth as possible for the invasion forces to reach the enemy's capital world in the shortest amount of time feasible. In the process, we're dismantling their commercial and military traffic capacity, isolating their garrisons, and avoiding surface contacts."
He handed out packets. "Taffy Group will be under the overall Command of Billie Hoel, and will consist of two four-ship groups with a reserve unit of heavies with Stacey Cameron Roberts having formation command of the second four ship group. Likewise with Surcouf group, with Fleet Captain Roberts taking lead of that unit's A-group with the note of I am adding Ephemeral to make it a five ship group since you’re short on hitters. Mina you’ll have operational control of the B group."
Nodding to Johnathan Morgan, "Admiral Murakami has graciously allowed Captain Morgan to join the Taffy reserve formation as both a leader and advisor. He's done good work as an officer all the way back to the Jihad."
“I will be with the Command group, which will be acting as a further reserve for this operation as well. This operation can become very fluid very quickly.”
Foster sighed. "Now for the worse news: we cannot spend more than drive-charging time at any single target for this to work out, so our timeframe is roughly one week between strikes. Underway replenishment of stores will be handled as we can get them moved forward, which is to say, it is going to be rough out there. We are basically pulling an epic-sized commerce raid across a front 180 light years wide, 90 high and 40 deep."
"That's… one for the record books, isn't it?" Luther Bedwyr noted.
"It is. Partial UNREP will be provided by the Thazi Armed Forces' Fleet, but their operational reach is shortened because they need to maintain their local security from Wynn's Roost to Bloemfontein in the event we screw this up. Prize vessels will route straight back here, to Port Orphan, where Fleet Captain Gomez and Admiral Murakami will handle the processing and dispatch, as well as record-of-capture. Erinyes and the remaining Aegis vessels will handle system defense while we're out."
Not quite looking like a school boy in class, Jonathan Morgan raised his hand.
“Yes, Captain Morgan?”
“Admiral, in addition to our cruisers, we have a number of smaller drone units of DropShip size and smaller. Most would probably be best served to remain here on defensive duties, since we’ve got a limit on collars, but our M-10 carrier units each have a single six-bird squadron of Phoenix Hawk LAMs converted to drone control. I know the Swifstars and BlackWasps may not be the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree, but we were able to add a bit more computing power to the Phoenix Hawks, and they may prove valuable on boarding ops, if we can shuffle our birds around a bit.”
“Something to take under advisement,” Foster replied. “Anyone else?”
Lucy Heerman’s human remote had a look about her like if she could cry, she would.
“Problem, Captain Heerman?” Dave Foster looked her way.
“Apologies sir, but I’m not sure if I’d be shedding tears of joy seeing a fleet action this big again, or if they’d be tears of frustration seeing what has become of our nice neat Destroyer Divisions,” Lucy admitted.
“Heh. Probably both would be acceptable, given the circumstances,” Foster chuckled slightly. “Amanda and Phoenix, we have something to discuss in private. The rest of you, dismissed.”
”So you…
…are our newest recruit.” Foster studied Phoenix’s human remote.
“Yes sir.” Phoenix stood before him at attention.
“I have read all the briefs and reports of what you and Amanda tried to pull while I was away, and Helena has given her blessing to how everything went down. I think she saw this coming, while I failed to when I paired the two of you. Still honestly, if we had the time, I would be tempted to stick you with Roberts directly. But we don’t have the time for the refits or the shuffling of crews to make that work. As it is, several vessels are running short crews to keep that Battleship operational. I heard a report where you introduced yourself with a false rank, Phoenix. I’m assigning Star Commander Trina to sit on you as CO and leader of your boarding parties, but once the boarding operations start going down, you’ll be on your own. So you’ll have to teach her to be an officer in a Command Position of a Warship and I have to enter orders for special dispensation to restore you to full command authority for the remainder of the operation.”
“I understand, sir.” Phoenix stayed at attention.
“Amanda, I am sure you have gotten all the lectures you care to listen to. Now that you’re clearing medical, I can finally give my blessing for my favorite chainsaw to go do her thing.” Dave Foster sighed.
“You’re not mad at me?” Amanda seemed shocked.
“I have accepted it would be like being mad at water for being wet. You’ll always be a loose cannon, Amanda. But you are our loose cannon. All that can be reasonably done to ensure you survive this war, and have a chance of actually being able to acclimate to peace once it is over, has been done. So now it is up to you and your choices. Don’t get me wrong, Amanda. We are still going to be there for you, and support you as best as we can. We all also recognize it is now your choice which path you want to follow. Now, you two have something to hash out from my understanding.” Foster shook his head.
“I’m sorry Amanda. I gave false pretenses and misrepresented myself. So you were right to treat me the way you did, and can forgive yourself. I forgive you,” Phoenix started.
“Phoenix, you weren’t wrong to be angry with me. Even though you did introduce yourself using the wrong rank, I didn’t care about that. I still treated you poorly, and you could have called it grounds for coercion to get you to enlist, but you didn’t. So, I’m sorry too,” Amanda said.
“Amanda, maybe you can accept my debt that is friendship. Now that we both know who the other really is, and that I truly have a free choice in it. Because despite everything, I still choose to owe that to you.”
“Thanks, Phoenix.” Amanda and Phoenix hugged.
“Better. Now, I believe you have a brother to go see off. And we have some business to conduct that requires my presence, technically...” Foster folded his hands and rested his elbows on his desk so he could hide his smile.
**
"Admiral…
…sir." Amanda was in uniform again, this time it was a 'real' uniform. "The name on the birth certificate is 'Roberts', sir. Not 'Cameron'. I am an Outworlder, not a Terran, sir."
"Yeah, I know. But I also know the chain of command, and with the official release of data…"
"Roberts, sir," she stated again. "I'm not fit to be anyone's legal heir anyway, compromised and all that I am."
"You're saying you don't want it?" Daryl asked.
"You have sons. Two of them, great kids, they'll be great men," Amanda asserted. "She made you her legal heir. I'm not fit to be the spare. I refuse the honor to be your heir. You have a family."
Daryl looked at Foster, "Can she do that?"
"Yes," Billie said. "There’s legal precedent in the Terran Hegemony, and Star League codes. Anyone can step away from the line of succession, provided they are either unfit, or genuinely unwilling."
“Kah-Ray-ZEE. And all banged up to hell. So there.” Amanda smiled.
"I wish I had an excuse half as good," Daryl mourned out loud. "I don't, but I wish I did…" He looked at his sister, "I wish it wasn't you that had this."
“If it makes you feel any better Daryl, it’s only because she has to name an heir now that the enemy are getting desperate enough to try head hunting tactics,” Billie offered.
"Yah, Helena's going to live for centuries," Amanda pointed out. "You may never have to actually FILL that spot."
"Your word to God's ears," Daryl asserted. "Still doesn't explain why you don't want to be third."
"I don't want it, because it means I can't go out and have fun," she stated. "I'd have to learn all that politics and economics and business stuff. I'd have to give up my letter of Marque and be…important," she added with distaste.
“Well, you’re important to us already.” Stacey was in dock re-supplying and took the opportunity to be a part of the meeting.
Amanda stepped forward, and gave Daryl a hug. "Kiss Sam and the boys for me, okay??" she said. "Tell them I love them lots."
"I will," he nodded.
She turned to Mashona. "Take care of my brother, and not just because he's your boss's heir. For me, okay?"
“I will. I look forward to when we can meet again, Amanda.” Mashona smiled.
"Far side of the rift," Amanda nodded. "Admiral, I've got a ship to prep. May I be excused to do so?"
"Here I thought you wanted to see them leave," Foster commented.
"No sir, I said my fare-wells. Daryl's got two important jobs-one of them in Parliament, and the other? Family don't raise themselves and come out worth a… worth anything."
“Well, we’ll take it as a sign of progress that you’re willing to trust Mashona with your brother, and be happy that you’re growing up a little, but not too much.” Billie chuckled.
"Mashie's cool," Amanda said. "Though she needs a Cool Hat. I need to finish prepping Evanescent, and I need to talk to Phoenix and Luther about our patrol plan."
**
"Okay, Phoenix…
…You've got your extra personnel sorted and bunked?" Fleet Captain Amanda Roberts was holding a 'meeting' with the Vessels and Captains for her portion of the mission.
“Yes ma’am.”
"Luther, you're loaded too? Does anyone have any questions about our objectives?" She was in a slightly different state than she had been during her recovery. Amanda Roberts was almost manic.
"Yeah, I'm ready. When am I getting a Human officer assigned, Commodore?" Luther asked.
"You're not. We don't have any spares," Amanda told him. "It turns out it takes a lot of extra bodies to crew a Farragut, including officers qualified for a ship the size of a Bonnie. The closest you get is your Prize Crew Caps."
“Sorry. I know my current situation isn’t helping that either Luther,” Phoenix apologized.
She turned to Seron, "Is your ship ready?"
"She's ready, Captain."
Amanda turned to Jonah. "Will there be problems with Cossack?" she asked.
"No ma'am."
"Better not be."
Johnston tried to stifle a giggle but obviously failed.
"Share the joke, Johnston. I'm sure we can all use the lightener," Amanda ordered.
“Oh, it’s just that Cossack is actually a total sweetheart and teddy bear once she actually accepts and respects someone. So she’ll probably give the newbies grief, but once they pass muster she’ll be fine.”
Amanda mock-sighed. "Damn, and I was hoping for a scurvy space-dog psycho. Well, can't have everything… I suck at the speeches, but you all know the operation plan. Your reports show you've got your stores and spare crews. Those of you who aren't familiar, this is going to be a series of a very special kind of raids. We're going in to steal their navy blind."
“Oh, Cossack will absolutely be that to our enemies. No need to worry about that, Commodore.” Johnston smiled.
'What makes THIS one different is the betting pool," Amanda informed them. "I have a standing bet with the other squadrons over who's going to score the richest loot off the enemy, and I intend NOT to lose… But we'll be competing with some tough competition. Including Destroyer Group One led by Billie Hoel. We're going in to take as much enemy iron out of enemy hands as physically possible… And I don't want you guys to embarrass me in front of our friends."
“Well, that could get complicated for the betting pool, since some of us technically still report to Billie as part of Group One,” Johnston added.
"We're 'Redfor' for this one," Luther said confidently. "Aren't we? And the ships with Billie are acting as Bluefor."
"Bingo, and someone dropped a fiver on the pool, didn't you, Luther?" Amanda teased.
"Fifty," he said. "I bet fifty Escudos at two-to-one odds our group would come out on top, despite the tonnage and manpower difference."
“A little competition between siblings now and again doesn’t hurt either.” Regina smiled.
"Each competing group is getting a 'slice' of the pie. We're doing this ahead of the main offensive, so we have a slight advantage in that our initial targets are closer to us than the others. Which is part of the handicapping, but the overall is the same. I've got one hundred Escudos that says we'll bring more tonnage, in better condition, than the other two teams."
“So how are we approaching this then? Close and noisy as hell, or sit back and get a little surprise?” Sikh asked.
"That depends on what we see. It's why we have a mix that includes ships other than Bonnies," Amanda said. "Stacey Roberts and Group Two's team will be kinda forced to be big and noisy, what with having one of Murakami's cruisers in their line. And DG one is going to be the same, just on the amount of thermal boom their emergence waves make. But they can play subtle too. We'll be using adaptive tactics at each of four systems on our target list, each one will be a case of dropping in on contingency planning. But our primary mission is to deprive the enemy of every piece of jump-capable iron we can sink our dirty little fingers into."
"So the mission really is to raid, pillage, and plunder our bloody little black hearts out?"
"Yo Ho Ho." Amanda grinned wildly.
“This should be fun.” Johnston adjusted her tricorn hat.
"You all have the target lists and the listing for our rendezvous coordinates. Jump off is in twelve hours. Try to have most of your crews sober by then, and my speech is done!"
****
Formation…
…flight on the way out is a traditional thing. Most navies in the Age of War through Star League eras would do a pass-in-review before embarking on a mission.
This time, the flight plan included it for less practical than sentimental reasons.
This wasn't, after all, for a mere practice exercise. Four Bonaventure corvettes in formation, three with wild-ish looking nose art, and the OWS Illusive with its patriotic-themed Outworlds Flag (oversized).
ALICE watched her friends go, and felt some sadness. "You'll watch over them, won't you?" she asked her visitor.
"Kolossus will watch over them, little one," Kolossus answered. "As much as Kolossus can, while also watching over Billie Hoel."
"Thank you."
The next ships off the dock and forming in line were from Destroyer Group One.
"It's… sad seeing them all leave like this," Alice mused. "I'm worried."
"Kolossus knows. It is okay to be worried," the entity told her. "It means you care. Feelings are… complex. A proof of evolving beyond what we are, and into who we are
-
Finally finished all my post script ideas and got Helena's fleet status finally sorted. At least well enough.
415 pages on our current google doc...
145k words...
-
Ack! I clearly missed a LOT of posting today... this weekend will be a LONG editing session! :o
I'm cramming for an ECSA certification exam on Wednesday, so I'll be limited how much I'll be available to write or edit this weekend - probably just when I need a brief decompression from studying.
(Funniest thing? My biggest problems are keeping up with all the new bells and whistles we don't use introduced since I took my classes 5 years ago - like they introduced a new installation/patching method as an option, teach to that these days, but I don't know that anyone really uses it)
-
Finally finished all my post script ideas and got Helena's fleet status finally sorted. At least well enough.
415 pages on our current google doc...
145k words...
I have copied this from the beginning and I am up to 406+ pages....and dang this is getting good....great war story with lots of behind the scenes stuff like the three book Cameron Legacy series....excellent work....and getting up to 350K words....
-
Order of Battle, 1st Wave
Darado System...
…Taffy A slid into existence and began shaking out as each vessel arrived. On telescope, the environmental damage to Darado's main world was visible: strip mines ran streaks across the almost-earthlike world, interrupted by pockets of urban development and village-like encampments.
The latter would be where the slaves lived, exposed to a world of tailings and dust, while their masters lived in the domes, protected from the runoff and dust of massive mining and smelting operations.
"Amanda's report on Darado suggests she didn't know what the local ecology had gotten to before humans started tearing the place up. The Evanescent didn't get that close, but based on albedo and spectral readings, the planet's got a barely-breathable atmosphere mix with higher-than normal concentrations of CO2 and water vapor."
"What's the green?" Ensign Martins asked from the helm station.
"Algae in the water," Lieutenant Winters answered from Navigation.
It would matter more for the follow-on forces. For now, the mission was what all that mining and smelting were feeding: a small fleet of JumpShips at the planetary L1 point, there to meet DropShips from the surface. And occasionally to send DropShips down.
Most of those, to replace losses in the workforce.
Presently there were six Invader class, and two Star Lords. The Star Lords had Mammoth type dropships docked, ready to depart.
“Engines to max for ten minutes. Ease back half a g each minute after that until we’re down to one g. We’ve got time. Keep an eye on the passives.” Billie Hoel focused her crew.
It had become a well practiced routine. Jump in far enough out to get your own look with scopes, burn for a while outside known detection ranges of planetary or moon based sensor systems, then pounce on the enemy before they knew you were there.
It was on the second day of the burn when they saw the small station. It was clearly more of an anti-piracy defense station, with its own small collection of DropShips for defense and likely fighters as well.
“It’s outside the limit,” Lieutenant Walker said from the weapons station.
“Tempting, but we should save those for bigger fish.” Billie declined the use of special munitions.
“Should we shorten transit time again?” Ensign Martins asked.
“Yeah, 1.5 gs for ten minutes. Back to 1g after. Repeat that at the top of the hour until we hit the turn over and coasting point.” Billie calculated the strain and rest periods needed.
By the time enemy radar would have enough resolution to detect them, they should be practically on top of them. And plenty of targets with only partially charged drives waiting for them.
The next three days were tough on the humans in the crew, but there had been no active sensor pings detected from the enemy yet.
That happened on day 5.
“Samantha, be a dear and take care of the station. Joana screening duty. Ottillie, any DropShips that launch. Lucy, let’s start deploying our fighters now,” Billie ordered.
The station scrambled a full aero regiment, and the two Titan DropShips it scrambled before weapons range was entered almost made Billie laugh.
“Establishing ATACs links now. ECM active,” Billie alerted her crew.
The telemetry from the drone fighters was already flowing in. In about an hour, they’d have no trouble swatting the station, DropShips, and supporting their own drone fighters with AA mode Capital Laser fire and Capital Missile fire. Likely even some bracketing Naval PPC fire.
The hour passed quietly. The planet was scrambling its own response as well, but it too was pitiful.
Four Mule Q ships launched from the surface, and perhaps if they could have linked up with the Titans might have been a viable threat that could cause some armor damage and shoot down more than a half dozen drone fighters.
But thanks to the ATACs feeds, Taffy A’s weapons fire was far too accurate and deadly and sliced through the closing DropShips and Station in a scant three minutes. The surface force launched fighters before being destroyed two minutes later.
The enemy pilots were certainly skilled and brave, but now completely outmatched. Some tried to ram to extract some measure of revenge, but those too were effortlessly swatted aside.
“Adjust velocity for enemy JumpShip group. Now we’re on the clock. Get the boarding parties away,” Billie ordered.
Within ten minutes after engaging the Station and local defenses, Taffy A was now starting their boarding operations. It would take only another ten before all targets were secured. One of the Star Lords significantly damaged its core trying to rush its charge. The others also tried to rush, but their cores were in much better shape, or completely undamaged.
*
Jasper’s Mine system...
Taffy B found the system militia well organized and alert. They were also largely unprepared to fight anything more serious than a light raider.
This state of affairs had to do with how the system actually worked. Jasper's Mine wasn't and had never been habitable. The actual 'mine' was on an airless, rocky, pseudo-Mercury rock orbiting not even a tenth of an AU from the dim red dwarf primary. Most of the system's defenses were concentrated in a series of stations, including a somewhat decrepit and worn O'Neill cylinder that was the main port and habitation for the planet's overlords. The labor force was confined to burrows and domes on Jasper's Mine's surface.
This dependence on even the most basic commodities moving from the greenhouses of the Habitat to the labor camps on the surface meant a bit more active protection to secure and monitor things.
How cluttered the inner system was with so many worlds and moons also gave ample opportunity for places for defenders to hide.
"I count two Merchant, three Invader, and a pair of Star Lords, looks like twenty Mules, three Aqueducts, and a Mammoth active between the Primary and the Station. That's our target list. Defenses look like six Achilles class DropShips backed up by a pair of Pentagons and a pair of Titan class carriers… Plus whatever's based on the station or the planet."
Orders were issued, and Marines went to their boarding ships, while fighters were readied. "We do this as a two-pronged assault to keep the patrols from protecting the JumpShips."
The Assault teams launched relatively early, to run up on cold thrust under stealth blankets, while two of the Destroyers moved to present the threat that would draw the defenders away from the true targets.
"Remember, we're playing this one tight. We don't have the manpower to take the Habitat OR the surface base. So we're just taking the JumpShips and taking out the garrison's fighter and DropShip assets."
Fighters rose from moon bases as the formation closed into detection range. The DropShips, to their credit, at least the armed ones, assumed a combat formation and began their run on the first ship to enter detection range.
Two of the JumpShips tried to thrust toward the point, beginning to furl their sails… And then they drifted, sails half-furled.
It was as good as launching a flare. The boarding parties were already in place when the destroyers began their run.
One by one, the JumpShips jumped out as the defensive forces arrayed to give battle.
In a sense, this was as one-sided as you can possibly get. The defending units had no chance at all.
The last of the JumpShips vanished as they finished off the defense squadrons. Taffy B moved to a mapped transitory point and departed, leaving the mining colony untouched, aside from the destruction of two squadrons of combat DropShips and forty-two fighters.
The remaining forces, mostly ground units tasked with crowd control in the labor pool, didn’t know they'd been stripped of transport and cut off. The invasion wasn't coming for another eighteen hours.
**
Nilea’s Garden system…
Surcouf A arrived outside the jump limit, and immediately deployed sail. Amanda studied her target. "We'll have to do this quick and smooth," she judged. "Last time we passed through, they had damned near no defenses at all, and we got a good read on what’s produced here, and for whom."
She rolled her shoulders. "Mister Chester? You’ll observe that we have two selections of targets here. I count eleven JumpShips in various stages of ready to go, but none of them are actually fully loaded yet."
"Aye ma'am," the Elemental Marine nodded.
"We're going to steal them all. Or as many as we can lay our blackhearted grubby hands on, anyway. I want priority on the heavies with those Mammoths docked to 'em, because that's food for the enemy, and we want to be eating it instead of them. Miss Lori, pass down the formation, we're going to do this one systematically: Marine teams will attend in the order I give. But we're going to steal all their stuff. Sam, did we kit up the rest of the squadron with your special stealth setups?"
"Yes, we have, and it's been tested," Samuel replied. "Heck, I even got advice on improvements."
"Did you implement them?"
"I did."
She grinned. "Good. It's time to steal their rations."
"What about the defense stations?"
"Oh, we're going to kill those," she asserted quietly. "Stations, any off-planet air bases, and any fighters they muster. This is invasion prep. But we're going to steal their supply ships first. Have all ships in the formation ready to begin attack runs…" She mentally calculated, "Six hours after the Marines head for their JumpShips. We're going to be covering the retreat of our prize crews, and that's going to be all the combat anyone could possibly want here."
She nodded. "Let's begin. Jolie Rouge is the signal. Yo Ho Ho."
"How're we going to do that?" Piorun's avatar asked.
"Well, once our Marines are in motion, I'm going to tell them who we are," Amanda said casually. "That should bring out every defender in the system, given what I did last time we were through here. They'll focus on us and on 'holding us back' long enough for the prize crews to make off with their logistics. It's pure psychology."
“Ah, similar to how I goaded the Blakists when I transmitted in the clear that ‘I am a Caspar and I am free’. Got it. Should be fun.”
"If it isn't fun, what's the point?" Amanda grinned. "This is going to be a hella more fun than killing spacers from range because they sail under the wrong flag."
"You should've been born a Caspar."
Amanda laughed, there was a slight maniacal twinge to her tone, "Now why would I be that, when I can be The Greatest Pirate they'll ever see?"
“The two states are not incompatible. And I remember my human source well enough, even after all these centuries, that I can enjoy this. I am a Caspar, and I am free. What more can I want?”
"Freedom is why we're here," Amanda chuckled. "Six hours, be ready for my signal. We need to let the boarding teams storm those ships."
“Well then, I should probably get my remote back to my ship.”
Five and a half hours later, Chester was standing on a JumpShip's bridge, with the enemy commander's override in his hand. "Pulse the signal, then prep for jump."
The signal went out.
Over a general channel, broadcast from multiple transmitters including the much more powerful ones mounted to the pair of M5s…
"Your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen and All Ships at Sea!! I am The Dread Pirate Roberts, and I have Come for you All!! There will be no quarter expected nor offered, your souls belong to me and I will take them to hell!!"
The reaction was swift panic, and combat DropShips began thrusting from surface bases or patrol routes, as ground based detection showed a lone Bonaventure class burning toward the planet.
Right into the kill box formation, as eleven JumpShips moved from station keeping to jump. Nobody on the ground or on traffic control really blamed them. Roberts had savaged merchant ships mercilessly not a year and a half ago. Nobody wanted to be there for the next round of it, so they didn't realize those eleven ships were already stolen.
Piorun and Cossack had to settle for wiping out Achilles and Pentagon class DropShips, plus the pair of Titans, while the Bonnies in the formation and the fighter squadrons dealt with enemy fighters.
The battle was as one-sided as any the Caspar had record of. And when the coup-de-grâce on the polar stations was delivered twelve hours later, it was more or less a mercy killing.
Nilea's Garden would prove to be a relatively simple conquest for the Allied forces, having been effectively stripped of Aerospace assets in a single evening of brutal fighting.
***
Fort Zimbabwe system…
…was a fortified site. Somebody with access to DOME equipment had spent a lot of time fortifying the system.
"Her reports suggested this would be a major base…" So far, the comprehensive data gathered by Evanescent's run through the home territory of the Sons of Plunder had been reaping nothing but benefits. "What do you think, Phoenix?"
"I think that's a Potemkin with a pair of Essex II's flying escort," Phoenix stated. "We can take those??"
"With help," Mina said judiciously. "Lots of help… and look! We have somebody to call in!"
"I don't have enough boarding troops to take an Essex, never mind the Potemkin," Phoenix stated.
"You do not need them. You need to focus on these…" Mina showed her a cluster of standard JumpShips at the system Nadir. "We can take those, we can not take the battlewagon. But the Reserve formation can... And if we time it right, they can keep the big bastards so busy they will not know we are stealing their logistics transports."
"But… won't that-"
"I make some effort not to be as foolheaded as Dave's protege, Phoenix. I am not going to put your Bonaventure hull anywhere near the capital fire a Potemkin class can sling, never mind an Essex II. That bunch is for the Cruisers in the Reserve group. Maori, you are our backup band."
"Backup band?"
"Because only an idiot would leave those JumpShips without a watchdog," Mina asserted. "I am calling in the Reserve to hit the troop-cruiser and her escorts. When they are good and on the way? We hit the logistics formation at the Nadir point. I want two transports minimum from each of you."
"TWO?"
"Two. If you can not swing two, grab one and blow the other one in place. If you think you can grab three, do so," Mina said. "We have a betting pool to win."
“Challenge accepted. I have some payback to get on these bastards after all. They wrecked my favorite remote.” Maori smiled.
Attackers:
Reserve Group
SLS Sparks (Aegis Block II)-AI Jonathan Morgan Formation Command
SLS Betty Laffey (Essex II)-Captain Kevin Armington in Command with AI support
SLS Tartar (M5.1)
SLS Zulu (M5.1)
Defenders
SLS Belleau Wood-Potemkin Class, Lord Admiral Jason Alexander David Louis Winston XIIth
SLS Milton-Keynes-Essex II, Lord Commander Enid Roberta Paisley Jane Winston Xth
SLS Salmonford-Essex II, Lord Commander Philbert Devon Lucas Winston the VIIth
2215th Composite Squadron SLDF (Enter from starting map edge, turn 10)
Special (experimental) rules: Defenders may not use Bracket Fire as they have not been trained in it.
Boarding Actions take 4 turns per attempt to resolve. Each small craft involved in the boarding action increases the defender's survival roll target number by 1 (Rolled once per shuttle, per turn). It requires 4 successful survival rolls to repel the boarders per boarding unit (small craft) employed. Four failures (including non-successive) results in the targeted vessel 'flipping sides'.
Each failed survival check generates a critical hit to ship's systems.
-
Consolidation Phase 1
"Admiral Foster…
…I would never have believed it, If I wasn't looking out the window at it." Director General Helena Cameron stated, "Over fifty jumpships captured, including the SLS Belleau Wood."
"Admiral Murakami said Morgan was good," Foster approved. They were on the SLS Larry Nichols as Flagship at the rally point. "It's nice to see she was right. Care to hear what the follow-on forces are hitting?"
"Fierce ground fighting?" Helena suggested.
"A few places, a few others couldn't wait to surrender. Jasper's Mine's governor, Phillipe Winston? He was broadcasting surrender codes as soon as the Ghost Bears showed up. Nilea's Garden is turning out to be one of those poisoned chalices, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Clan Wolf is dealing with a concentrated insurgency from the 'Star League Citizens'. They freed slaves, and the slaves are fine. But everyone who was not a slave on the plantations: the technical workers, most of the people who know how the infrastructure works. Star Colonel Kerensky wants to trade occupation zones with the Jade Falcons, who are earlobes deep in fighting on the ground at Fort Zimbabwe. There is something close to an SLDF Brigade on the ground there, and they are not inclined to surrender yet."
“And let me guess, they want me to mediate since they can’t be grown ups?”
"The enemy's local commander already claimed Elizabeth is a 'pretender'," Foster said ironically. "But it might help on Nilea's Garden. The local officials officially surrendered, so you might actually get some traction getting their educated people to stop planting bombs and shooting at patrols."
“Okay, I’ll swing through on Victoria and see what I can do about the locals. But feel free to tell the Wolves where they can stick their request to trade occupation duties for me.”
Foster laughed.
****
"Basileus, if we don't…
…at least try to negotiate…" Cecil Halford was ready to be killed for saying it. Well, mentally prepared.
Basileus Katrin looked at the reports again, and then at her Commodore of Naval Forces. "Slow them down. I promise, I’ll try to open a dialogue. YOU predicted this."
He nodded. "Yes, Highness, I did…"
"It is my error," she said. "Thing about mistakes is, it's always what you do after you've made the catastrophic mistakes. Buy time, slow them down, so we can at least try to negotiate… And start pulling our forces back. We can maybe trade space for time."
"You're not going to kill me?"
"I told you before, Cecil. I value competence. You've been nothing but competent with every job I've given you. You're the best man I have for your role. I can't afford to kill you. I'm not sure I can afford to lose you, even if we lose this war. Work up a plan to pull our forces back and concentrate on an effective defense. We need time, and I need to speak with my Communications Ministry representative about taking steps to open a dialogue and end this with… something." She sighed sadly. "Maybe if I negotiate well, some of you might live to serve Her."
-
I think I've caught up on editing... the climax is coming! ^-^
-
Attackers:
Reserve Group
SLS Sparks (Aegis Block II)-AI Jonathan Morgan Formation Command
SLS Betty Laffey (Essex II)-Captain Kevin Armington in Command with AI support
SLS Tartar (M5.1)
SLS Zulu (M5.1)
Defenders
SLS Belleau Wood-Potemkin Class, Lord Admiral Jason Alexander David Louis Winston XIIth
SLS Milton-Keynes-Essex II, Lord Commander Enid Roberta Paisley Jane Winston Xth
SLS Salmonford-Essex II, Lord Commander Philbert Devon Lucas Winston the VIIth
2215th Composite Squadron SLDF (Enter from starting map edge, turn 10)
Special (experimental) rules: Defenders may not use Bracket Fire as they have not been trained in it.
Boarding Actions take 4 turns per attempt to resolve. Each small craft involved in the boarding action increases the defender's survival roll target number by 1 (Rolled once per shuttle, per turn). It requires 4 successful survival rolls to repel the boarders per boarding unit (small craft) employed. Four failures (including non-successive) results in the targeted vessel 'flipping sides'.
Each failed survival check generates a critical hit to ship's systems.
Oops, I was going to try to write up the battle for this one on my study breaks this weekend. Been so behind with work this week.
The basics, though:
An Aegis I that can bracket fire turns out to be surprisingly capable against a Potemkin that can't bracket fire. Both ships have surprisingly similar damage outputs at long range, both are broadside fighters, with the Potemin having a thrust and armor advantage, while the Aegis I, being an M-12C Concord conversion, has an accuracy advantage.
So, the Sparks would directly engage the Bellau Wood, Tartar and Zulu would flank the enemy Essex and use their bigger broadside bays against them, while the Betty Laffey would use her bow-facing weapons to take aimed shots at both the enemy Essex class and Potemkin. Drone Phoenix Hawk LAMs would support the boarding parties going against the Bellau Wood, while drone fighters and DropShips held off the enemy fighter and DropShip squadrons.
-
Phase 2
Tannhauser’s Bell system...
As soon as the jump effects dissipated and her screens cleared, Billie didn’t like the look of this system. There was clearly a large space-borne population here with the large bell shaped asteroid belt.
So where were the defense stations? Active patrols? This wave should have started with more resistance, not less.
There were a pair of Invader class JumpShips loaded down with what looked like space station modules at the nearby planet-moon L1, but before Billie and her squadron could cover even that distance they jumped out.
All that were left were small little satellites and the local burrows.
“They’re jammer satellites.” Ensign Ortega had this shift at Communications.
“Weapons and fighter squadrons clear them from my sky,” Billie ordered.
Once they were swept, the distress beacons from the burrows could be heard. They were begging for food, water… any supplies really.
“They stripped them. Just to slow us down. Force us to deploy our logistics assets here,” Ensign Ortega was angry.
“And it might have worked if Amanda hadn’t grabbed that supply convoy. Ortega, start working that panel. I’ll coordinate anything we can spare to the most critical cases until relief can show up.”
*
Natsu system...
Tabarinth studied the system. It was clearly a fairly substantial production center for the Sons of Plunder. But the defenses, well what she could see, were inadequate.
The only reason that made any sense, is that the Sons of Plunder knew what was coming and were starting to pull back.
The quartet of Pinto class corvettes that she could see thanks to her Naval Comm Scanner were in formation with three Merchant and five Invader JumpShips at the Zenith point.
“No need for anything fancy. We’ll just take them and roll up anything the planet can muster later. Straight forward defeat in detail,” Tabby informed her crew at the same time she sent the orders out over her ATACs.
Engines came up to full acceleration.
The only reason the battle lasted more than five minutes once joined was because the Pintos decided to die with drained fuel tanks, futilely running for their lives.
A week later the planet failed to muster any immediate response.
“They’re figuring out our tactics. Knowing we’re focusing on any sort of sortie before our invasion force arrives, and destroying what defenses we can. And unless I’m mistaken, those mountains near the main settlement are stuffed full of Surface to Orbit emplacements. Communications, advise follow up forces accordingly. We’re not going to be able to clear this without getting bogged down in unfavorable fighting,” Tabby said for the benefit of her human crew.
**
Silesea System...
Amanda studied the plot. "Back again," she said. The traffic was lighter than it used to be. She could almost see where the AIs had killed a Baron class here, and she'd taken a Star Lord.
Back at the scene of the crime. She sighed.
"Contact! Sixty degrees port, range eighteen thousand kilometers!!"
"Identify it," she ordered.
"Vincent Class, model 39, transponder is SLS Voerhoeven."
"Well, they're not friendly at least," she resolved. "So where’re his buddies?"
"Ma'am?"
"A Vinnie is a recon bird," she said. "She's spotting for someone, and probably has us spotted. Spread the formation out, overlap your sensor coverage. She let us see her. Means her pals are nearby."
The Vincent's engines lit, and she began pulling back.
"Oh, clever girl… Lori, signal Piorun. The Vincent's hers if she can take her. The rest of the formation will fly in support-he's trying to draw us into a kill box… So let's see what she's got to kill us with."
"Neutrino spray, picking it up roughly ten thousand kilometers along her vector, multiple sources."
Amanda relaxed. "Well, they laid out the party mat. So let's not disappoint our hosts. Open the formation another thousand kliks. They want a kill box, let's oblige them. Pass a message to the Reserve, there's work for Fleet ships here."
There is an art to turning an ambush. The trick is to let the ambushers think they're unseen while your reserves arrive behind them. This deep outside the jump limit, that's pretty simple, really.
Space rippled as the heavier WarShip group slid into three dimensional space, containing the four Pintos that had been laying doggo in the outer system.
"Surcouf formation, break off," she ordered. "Piorun and Cossack, just linger enough to keep the stopper on them. The rest of you with me. We're going to make some nightmares come true. Advance on the Zenith point first."
The enemy had picked up their arrival, had this planned ahead of time. And burned their jump charge getting in position.
It could have worked, if the sensor suites were still 'Star League grade' on the Privateer ships, but between Helena and Acton and multiple updates?
Not so much.
As the Bonaventures from Surcouf A moved on the now-lightly-protected Jump Point, men died in darkness and silence, sandwiched in a kill box wrapped around their kill box.
Cossack merrily waltzed through the Pintos, their frail frames not withstanding her superior firepower. Until only one was left, and signaled surrender.
“Smart move. It’ll take us longer to secure you than kill you. Fine. Boarding parties away, and let them know we’ll be watching for funny business.” Cossack sighed.
***
Karalia System...
"I know you…" Phoenix could recognize that hull. Vincent, Mk 39. She'd seen her before, met her, and her partner. "...I know you!!"
Convoy 22's attacker was HERE.
"Launch fighters."
Phoenix heard it then, over RF, wide band.
"This is SLS Tench, Lord Commander Bruno Unger in command, to Outworlds vessels. I want to negotiate a surrender."
"What??"
It repeated three more times before she could muster her response. "This is SLS Phoenix, on behalf of Task Force Surcouf B. What are your terms?"
"Decent treatment for my men, and your pledge not to bombard the civilian population from orbit."
"Stand down your weapons and drives, and prepare to receive boarders," she said. "This better not be a trick, Tench, over."
“I believe this is where we part ways and Foster’s special dispensation to return you to command kicks in Phoenix.” Trina departed Phoenix’s CiC.
“Good hunting Trina.” Phoenix smiled.
Three hours later, she was fielding the surrender messages of the planetary militia garrison, a reinforced company of tanks and 'mechs.
"I didn't even get to shoot anyone," Phoenix marveled.
Consolidation Phase 2
"In some places…
…they fight like cornered tigers. In others, they surrender without a shot."
"Unger," Helena observed. This time, Foster was visiting Victoria over Nilea's Garden.
"Bruno Unger. Who would have thought he not only believed in Elizabeth, but decided he was more loyal to her than to Basileus Katrin." Helena shouldn't have been surprised by the man's deposition, but she was.
"Well, your sister showing up here put an end to the fighting. And her visit to Fort Zimbabwe turned that Brigade into a civil war," Foster noted. "You did more than your fair share pacifying things here."
"How bad are things at Fort Zimbabwe?"
"Katrin Loyalist versus Elizabeth Loyalist, both going after neutrals. And the Falcons are letting them, as long as they stick to the areas they already shelled and bombed out. So they only have to protect the pockets of noncombatants while the local lunatics tear each other apart."
“Shit. Well I could try swinging through there too, to see if maybe I can smooth things over. Anything to try and get some sanity taking grip there.” Helena shook her head.
"The good news is Tannhauser's Bell," Foster observed. "Republic units report the locals are friendly, and your sister's holoimage is showing up on people's walls in offices and public areas without prompting. There were few slaves in that system. Most of the population is educated."
“Helps we had all those extra supplies conveniently loaded up for redistribution that Amanda nabbed. Feeding and keeping people breathing tends to win their support.” Helena smiled.
"It's still good news," he said.
****
The facility…
…had been sabotaged. "We don't have an HPG." Katrin wanted to scream, to lash out. To express the sheer betrayal represented by the Communications Ministry destroying the HPG site rather than try to open a dialogue with the forces invading the Star League Remnant.
The facility had been destroyed, and most of the personnel committed suicide, rather than comply with her orders. The Communications Ministry, aka The Word of Blake, was NOT going to let themselves be taken by the allies.
Even at the risk of putting billions of Star League Citizens and subjects at risk of total destruction. They were never loyal.
The realization hurt. "Can we fix this?" she asked Marshall Guffney.
"We can field the truck-mounts, and relay through Naval vessels, but the HPG hub? We don't have the tooling to rebuild it, Basileus."
"Do what you can," she said. "We're blind, deaf, and mute without it!"
"Yes, Your Majesty, as you will… What will you order next?"
"That depends on whether I can get in contact with the invaders, and their… pretender. And arrange a cease-fire. If I can't, then we may have to fight to the last. If I can, then maybe, just maybe, something will be left for my successor," she scowled. "Why haven't you overthrown me?"
"Because I'm loyal, Highness. To the end, my oath is to you," he told her. "Why else? You're the first competent Basileus in decades…"
"I got us into a war we can't win," she countered. "A war we’re losing."
"I disagree. This war was inevitable due to the policies enacted by your ancestors. You just had the misfortune of it coming during your reign, and your enemies being strong enough to win."
"If I offer a surrender, what would you do?"
"I would surrender," he told her. "If your offer was accepted, and I would order my men to do the same."
"There is hope then, because it's harder to do than you realize," she said. "I almost can't make myself do it… What if I ordered you to fight to the last?"
"I would fight to the last. My honor would be satisfied merely in my obedience, Basileus," he told her.
"I don't deserve… Thank you… Get our network up in some kind of operation." She looked at the ruined A-station. "Our mission remains what it was from the start: to preserve as much of the Star League as physically possible."
-
Oops, I was going to try to write up the battle for this one on my study breaks this weekend. Been so behind with work this week.
The basics, though:
An Aegis I that can bracket fire turns out to be surprisingly capable against a Potemkin that can't bracket fire. Both ships have surprisingly similar damage outputs at long range, both are broadside fighters, with the Potemin having a thrust and armor advantage, while the Aegis I, being an M-12C Concord conversion, has an accuracy advantage.
So, the Sparks would directly engage the Bellau Wood, Tartar and Zulu would flank the enemy Essex and use their bigger broadside bays against them, while the Betty Laffey would use her bow-facing weapons to take aimed shots at both the enemy Essex class and Potemkin. Drone Phoenix Hawk LAMs would support the boarding parties going against the Bellau Wood, while drone fighters and DropShips held off the enemy fighter and DropShip squadrons.
Sorry Gio, I think it might be a defect of the sheer PACE I write at.
-
Can we please get a VERY big map picture of current affairs? from the OA to the systems TSP hold/held?
-
Can we please get a VERY big map picture of current affairs? from the OA to the systems TSP hold/held?
Monbvol IS working on maps for us...it takes time, and I'm not exactly the most patient sort of person.
-
Yeah I may be going into too much detail really. I mean I kind of want to so people can potentially play out the ground actions in MekHQ but to make progress I may need to just condense to the most essential of information so I can get this out. So with any luck I should make a fair bit of progress on this this week.
-
Hope we get cool, galactic map.
-
Phase 3
Kaiser’s Redoubt system...
As the Jump effect cleared her systems, Billie Hoel reached out to the rest of her task group, establishing ATACs connections.
<I have to admit it is strange. I am noticing how empty I am now. It is so odd. I guess I just got used to the company. But focus. We have enemies in system.> Billie Hoel admitted.
<Small fries. But a lot of them.> Samantha noted.
<Yeah. We’re going to get fighter swarmed. Means more smashing than grabbing this day and our AMS bins probably running dry but if we keep focused on that we’ll be okay.> Billie calculated their odds.
Titan carriers, a quartet of them. Their fighters and another quartet of Mule Qs with their own fighters.
There was no doubt a lot of nuclear tipped missiles would be on their way in the near future.
Billie’s drone fighters spread out to form a screen and feed targeting data.
They were horribly outnumbered as usual but their stores of Capital missiles had been freshly topped up and their Naval Lasers seemed to almost always be operating in AA mode now. Bracket fire from their Naval PPCs would also help cut down the numbers of enemy fighters before they got too close. But there were enough Billie knew there was no getting the boarding parties away until they dealt with them.
<Here comes the first barrage of canned sunshine.> Billie vectored Ottillie and Samantha into close formation so their AMS could overlap while putting Regina on the far side.
The Sons of Plunder were clearly starting to figure out which one of the ships was the command ship as the missiles were all clearly tracking on Billie Hoel.
One by one the missiles were swatted down by the combined AMS batteries.
Fighters on both sides were vanishing from the sensor screens, Billie’s faster than the Sons of Plunder’s as even with their supporting fire the disparity was too much.
<This is bad Billie.> Ottillie noted.
<I know. Keep your pilots close Regina, they’ll get swarmed out there. I got spare drones not spare humans in my holds.>
<Roger. Should we call for the Reserve group then?> Regina answered.
<No. They need to stay available for Mina. We’ve got this as long as we watch each other’s backs.>
Another wave of nuclear tipped missiles was launched. This time some of the missiles turned out to be decoys to draw AMS as they were destroyed but again thanks to overlapping the AMS fields none got close.
<See. But let’s not get too full of ourselves. Keep your primary focus on those fighters. Time to press in on those Dropships. Get your Naval Autocannons ready ladies.> Billie was suddenly more cheerful.
The Sons of Plunder fighters seemed satisfied that they had the drone fighters well in hand and began making for the formation.
<They die foolishly. They know they cannot harm us yet they continue to try.> Ottillie said as she swatted a pair of fighters out of space with little effort.
<We’re almost there.> Billie noted the range.
Her last drone fighter was now gone.
While they no longer had the targeting data from Billie’s drones they no longer needed it as the enemy fighters were coming to them and their carriers were running to stay out of range of the formation.
As AA fire and bracket fire swept through the Sons of Plunder fighters as they closed one managed to get past and slam into Billie’s port side.
<That’ll leave a mark. Damn. They still stalled us enough that we’re not going to get a lot of captures here.> Billie was frustrated.
Fort Simmons system...
When Stacey’s group came out of hyperspace what awaited them was a shock indeed.
Enemy vessels and fighters were firing on each other.
“Ma’am?” Her communications officer asked.
“We stay back and let them hash it out until we know who is who and why they are shooting at each other instead of us. Advise the rest of the task force accordingly.” Stacey answered.
One enemy vessel began pulling away from the others, Aegis. It was broadcasting, loudly, its identity as SLS Brighton.
“I am Lord Captain Boris van Clauffen Benton Halford the Fifth. I will smash your puny destroyers then deal with these traitors, shirkers, and deserters. Make peace with your maker.” The Brighton broadcast.
“Well I’ve met my maker, the shipyard AI at the Luna yards was surprisingly nice. But that’s probably not the maker you mean. I don’t think that maker wants to hear from me right now because I’m about to remove a lot of their creations from the face of the universe and when I get back to port I’m going to run a metric ton of fresh coolant through my heat sink grid like it’s your blood.” Stacey answered.
“I will still destroy you.” Stacey could swear she heard the color draining from Boris’ face.
“No human Captain has survived battle with me. You are in front of me, closing the gap. If you value your life, be somewhere else.” Stacey countered.
Whatever he was about to say, was interrupted.
Stacey could see his engines had stopped, leaving the SLS Brighton adrift, and there was incoherent shouting in the background.
"Is this on?" a young man's face appeared, "Hello?"
“We read you, who is speaking.”
"I'm…the Captain's been deposed, whoever you are. If you let us go home, that would be quite nice…" She could see the ranks-a Spaceman 2nd Class (E-3?) were smudged with blood and soot. "Are you really with the Star League? Is there a real one out there?"
“I came off the Luna yards in 2711. So yeah, there’s a real Star League out there. So I’ll tell you what I’m feeling merciful after 400 years so I’ll let you retreat in good order.
"So the old rumours are true? That we're not, that is, that the 'emergency measures' were really about a Mutiny?? They've been lying to us?" He was persistent.
“Would seem so. And I’d suggest a trip to medical, I’m pretty sure you’re in shock.”
"We enlisted to join the Star League Defense Forces, Do you know what they've had us doing? What we've been doing??"
“Yeah. I’ve been to some of your worlds, seen what was there. It’s okay to talk about it.” Stacey answered.
"Just a moment, please don't go away…" he turned from the camera pickup and a hurried, hushed discussion. "...they're for real, Toby, it's the way we can…no…yes….yes alright…what've we got to lose?" And then, he was back.
"Ma'am, we're not going to face charges for killing the Captain if he was a rebel, are we? We all signed up to join The Star League Defense Force not be slavers and terrorists! But if it's not real, then…"
"Given the available evidence it would seem likely that the JAG office would be willing to forgo those charges.”
"Ma'am, I…we need order..we need orders, ma'am, and if you have a spare Officer or two?"
“Yeah I got some people I can send over.” Stacey relaxed her human form drone into the command couch. “Bryant you and your marines are about to go into a potentially tough spot. From the sounds of it they’re kids getting some real culture shock. I mean their new leader didn’t even bat an eye at me being a Caspar. So he’s either really in some serious get him to a doctor shock, dim, or so ready for anything that you could tell him the sky of Earth is red and he’ll believe you. None of which are good. And if this is some ploy, well I know what I’m sending you into. If it comes to that I’ll turn it into highly radioactive razor blades.”
**
Half an Hour on the ship, and Bryant knew what the Sons of Plunder were shooting at one another over.
Meeting a crew of college-level draftees pressed into Warship service with only a basic training on their equipment was telling. More telling, was what it said about Churchstone itself-they'd been insulated from the reality of the government that ruled them for so long, their attitudes were far more in line with the Actual Star League, and when they discovered it, there was a revolt across the entire fleet group in this system.
A civil war triggered because idealistic young men and women had discovered they were serving a monster, and that monster had been monstrous their entire lives.
"Jesus, they want to enlist..." Bryant shook her head in amazement.
Benton’s Cradle System...
Seizing the jumpships was the easy part. Being contacted by the Station? Not so much. Two transmitters, one was making demands and threats, the other was asking questions.
The kind, that make you hesitate to kill them.
"...they're divided, half the security forces are bottling the other half up over it." Jonah explained, "Which let me lead a team of able spacers to meet with one of the factions-the one that wants to surrender to Elizabeth Cameron, at any rate."
“Honest assessment Jonah, could you keep a lid on things there until she gets here with what we have?” Cossack asked.
"Ma'am, if the Katrin Loyalists didn't have control of the life-support sections, we could probably just sign paperwork. I need to borrow some of your armed remotes-the ones you got from Admiral Murakami, and some of the remaining marines from the rest of the group-because without that life support, these people are going to die and the only ones left are the kind we ought to be killing."
“All right Jonah. I’ll contact Mina, see what we can scrape up. Fortunately I can run on pure automatics so anyone left that can help should.”
Scenario: the capture of Benton's Cradle
Defending forces:
4 companies of Marine Infantry (Regular/Fanatical)
1 company(12) Battlesuits (use Word of Blake table)(Regular/Fanatical)
1 lance, Wasp LAM (Regular/Shaky)
Attacking Forces:
2 points Protomech (Clan Veteran/Reliable) Modified for offworld/hostile environments
1 Company (20) Battlesuits (Snow Raven A table) (Veteran/Reliable)
6 Mark VII assault shuttles
Scenario uses confined Maps, there are four maps. Defending forces may emplace mines in hidden locations on each map. No more than 300 points worth of mines total.
Attacker's mission is to destroy the Defenders with the following caveats:
Map 1: Defender is under forced withdrawal
Map 2: Defender is under forced withdrawal at fifty percent losses
Map 3: Defender must hold-at-all-costs (fight to the last man).
The fight is to be managed only one map at a time, and whatever order you use, the same rules apply.
This battle is fought indoors on a space station, Gravity is considered to be between free fall, and .5 gee (assigned per map), it is suggested that the first map be .5 gs (per Tac Handbook) and the last map be free-fall (zero gee).
As this is an enclosed station there is insufficient room for the LAMs to operate in Fighter mode and a maximum Elevation of 20 for Airmech mode.
Kinnaman System...
There are things you don't want to say… or hear. Chief among them being "They brought a Texas."
You don't want to even think that.
It's right up there with 'They predicted your emergence point, and put a Lola nearby'.
A Texas, a Lola, a Riga, an Essex II, an Aegis, and just to rub it in harder…
"We're in the kill box. ******!!"
“Amanda, there’s a gap in their box… If we hurry, we can slip out before they start nailing us from multiple sides. We’ll be in a running gunfight with that Lola but we'll last longer than we will against that Texas,” Piorun’s voice came over the comms.
"We take the gap by their Lola. Lori, send the call for backup. Our full situation," Amanda snapped. "If he's doing it right, the enemy group commander will flex the formation to keep us in until they can close range with the big boy."
"You don't think the 'big boy' is their command ship? It's a Texas!!"
"Gut feeling," Amanda muttered. "It's too perfect, whoever set this up understands. Sound alarms, all crew into suits. We HAVE to go null pressure."
“Plus, it’s certainly squawking, but it almost looks… I don’t know, random. Whatever that Texas is sending out, I don’t think it’s tactical commands.”
"He's the bruiser, not the leader. Gimme a timer on our range before we're in range of that Lola. Saya, get all our fighters out of the barn."
“On it,” Saya said as she finished snapping her helmet on.
Amanda looked at her, "I said all of them. We're going to lose ships, that's guaranteed. You have a fighter, get out there. The Larry has extra spaces, and so do the others. You can't park on another ship if you're burning in the wreckage of this one."
“Understood.” Saya saluted, then departed CIC.
"Chester, get our Marines embarked on their shuttles and ready for launch. Make sure you get everyone who isn't absolutely necessary to run the ship."
"That sounds like suicide, you're not planning to ram, are you?"
"NO! God no… but we're going to pass closest to the gun range on that destroyer, so… Fewer casualties when they hammer us if your guys are already en-route out of the kill box when we cross that."
“We’ll position to keep those Pentagons off you, Amanda. Then swing back around as soon as we can to help with that Lola. We’ll be too far out of position to help with her for a few minutes,” Piorun reported.
"Keep the formation covered, Piorun! WE are the lightest, cheapest, least upgraded ship in the unit. That makes THIS ONE the distraction to get the rest of you room to actually escape or maneuver."
“We’ll have a better chance if we all form up to mutually support each other. There aren’t many ships in their formation that can keep up with us, let alone overtake.”
"We have our BEST chance if you keep the rest of the formation from being picked apart piecemeal. This is an envelopment, and their LIGHT ships have more firepower than most of our formation by themselves. The formation is to take advantage, and form up for combat once out of the box!"
It's the calculus of combat, ugly and simple. Just because the shooting had yet to begin, didn't mean it wasn't already combat. "Chester, leave me a Marine team, no more than five guys in suits. Everyone else in the Marine section un-ass, and make for Piorun."
"What are you planning?"
"We'll need more distraction than one ship."
“Recommend Cossack instead for the marines, she’s got the crew facilities,” Lori advised.
"Works," Amanda nodded. "Do that. Lori, I wish I could tell you to get off, but I need you and Sam up here for when we succeed."
“Yeah, I know. That Lola is going to get damned close before we get out of here.”
"We've got fifteen minutes until we're in range of that Lola. I'll be suiting up with the Marine team."
"What's the play?"
"Erinyes," Amanda said. "I'm going to visit our hosts, and thank them personally for the welcome party."
“We’ll need some fire support to get them to hold their engines long enough for you to get there. Saya you listening?” Lori checked the holo display.
“I will get my pilots into their aft and shoot them up, Captain. But we will not be able to stay there with this furball,” Saya offered from the flight deck.
"That's right, a Lola III has shit for point defense. Lori, you've got the Conn, get through and out. I'll be up at the ventral nose airlock with packs and five lunatics."
“And then?"
"Then, we'll be walking. And hoping that we've got enough reaction mass to slow down. Anything bigger and their friends might see it," Amanda commented.
“In the land of bad ideas…” Lori mumbled.
"I am the Heir to the throne of the Kingdom of bad ideas!!" Amanda laughed. "Get my ship out of this kill box. It's finally paid for."
“Aye, Captain,” Lori said flatly.
*
The call…
Came with a full situation laydown. David Foster didn't spend much time weighing the options. The scenario was one they'd war gamed, planned for, thought out.
All hands on deck, this was the kind of fight that needed the whole Command group just to pick up the mess after.
"We go in," he asserted.
“Aye, sir.” Thomas Erik Mahan straightened his posture in his chair.
“Jump calculations adjusting for updated predicted positions. Should be done in about twenty minutes sir,” the Navigator reported.
“Damn. That is an eternity in this situation. But with what is at stake, we also cannot afford a mistake in those calculations,” Foster grumbled.
“Jump as soon as your calculations are completed. We’ve finally got some nails worth hammering. All hands, make ready. I want us hammering with everything as soon as we clear from jump. And I mean everything we have. Load special munitions, all tubes.” Captain Mahan let the faintest smile grow on his face.
*
Saya worked her controls. The enemy outnumbered them by a fair margin, but she had grown, learned, and also taught her pilots much in her role as CAG.
‘War is the ultimate team sport, but there is no prize for losing.’ One of Why Yeh’s maxims popped into her head.
“Five, Six you do what you can to keep their fighters busy. It is almost time for the Captain’s mad plan. Two, Three, Four, with me. We start our attack runs on their engine assemblies in thirty seconds. Three, Four, you go first, then help Five and Six. Two you stay with me. We will have to keep pounding on their engine assemblies until the Captain is on board or this all goes up in smoke.” Saya had decided to ask of herself rather than another as soon as she had been informed of the plan.
They had managed to identify the Lola III as the SLS Biringer. The most successful of the Sons of Plunder ships.
It reached out with Naval Lasers, and she could see the Barracuda as her fighters began their runs. Three took the missile but the lasers failed to find purchase at this range.
“It’s not bad. I can keep going,” Three reported.
“Neg. Fall back to help Five and Six, Three,” Saya barked.
“Yes ma’am.” Three peeled away.
Her sensor screen lit up with the jump plumes of the Command Group.
Help was finally here at last.
“We still need to do our job. They will take care of the big bruisers for us,” Saya said, focusing on her pilots.
Four made its single attack pass before circling back around to help Three, Five, and Six but got caught by the Naval Lasers and burned to a crisp.
Saya held down her triggers, focusing on the number two engine.
The missile port on the aft end of the Lola spit out another missile and Saya saw it come straight for her fighter.
“Freebirth…” was all she managed before it impacted.
The damage wasn’t that bad, but it had knocked out her starboard thrusters and a pair of enemy fighters had gotten past the rest of hers.
“Get out of here, Two… before we both die,” Saya ordered as she put her guns on the number three engine housing.
She felt more impacts, then briefly blacked out. She came to a second later, floating in space.
Her auto-eject clearly triggered. She checked her beacon. Even if she was picked up by the enemy or killed in space by them, it was better than floating to her death. A fate she had far too close of a brush with once already. She knew once the autoinjectors in her suit ran out she’d hurt like hell.
*
“Sir, please do us the honor of giving the order yourself,” Captain Mahan graciously offered.
“I see a nail that needs hammering. Weapons, I want it hammered,” Dave Foster ordered.
The SLS Larry Nichols trembled slightly as it began exchanging fire with the Sons of Plunder Texas. The improvements made to the Larry Nichols gave her a clear advantage over the Texas.
It was not so overwhelming that the Larry Nichols was not taking return fire, but Dave Foster clearly got to hammer a most satisfying nail indeed.
Meanwhile, the Riga was finding out similarly just what kind of improvements Helena had ordered done to SLS Olivia Hazard Perry and how that was now a mismatch against a Riga.
Especially with SLS Stacey Cameron Roberts adding her fire.
Ephemeral, Illusive, Evanescent, Cossack, and Piorun had now successfully solidified into a unified formation that was now able to stave off further swarm attacks by enemy Dropships. But neither were they free to go after Biringer as only Piorun had any possibility of catching Biringer thanks to having no humans on board to worry about prolonged high g burns but the threat from enemy fighters and Dropships still present meant her guns were needed covering the Bonnies of Surcouf A.
*
<This isn't what I meant when I warned you against suicide missions, Amanda.>
"Codes?" Amanda muttered.
Her left gauntlet punched in a series of master-codes. The outer door of the maintenance lock opened. <It doesn't matter, Desmond, sometimes you have to take it for the team.>
<It matters to ME!>
<Then keep me alive, or hope your next host is better.>
The other four squaddies piled in behind her and closed the outer lock.
Press on the far side, was one atmo normal, according to the analog gauge set in the door.
"Huh."
Manual valves let her re-pressurize the lock. "We're going to have company."
"Well, isn't that why we're here? To be absolutely dreadful guests?" Barnhart asked.
"It is. Remember, by the numbers, we're here to break stuff and steal one of their shuttles," Amanda warned.
"I got it, Cap. This would work better with a full boarding team."
"What's gonna work better, is the five KT limpet mine we stuck on their hull," Amanda stated. "We're just pilfering the silver, and keeping them busy until we can un-ass."
Gravity shifted, reminding everyone that the ship was still under power and helm control.
At three gravities.
"Ugh! I think he's maneuvering…"
"Let's…. Put… a stop…. to that," she huffed. "Otherwise we might end up needin' to walk back."
"Engineering?"
She nodded. "Engineering."
*
Sheldon Vies banked hard port as one of the Pirate fighters ate a missile from Biringer.
"****** you ******!!!" he shouted, and nosed over.
Figures on the hull? Oh, this can't be good.
"Biringer Actual be advised, you have hitchhikers,"
"Do a low pass on the facing you saw them on, see how they got there."
He brought his Zero low over the hull, and did a pass.
No shuttle.
No shit.
The sensors DID tell him something was there…He did a reverse-course and focused his sensors on the irregularity. Limpet mine? Neutron count…"Pull steady, you don't just have boarders. There's a tick, I'm gonna scratch it."
The weapons on the old SLDF Zero worked just fine, and he blasted the target with a shot he couldn't have imagined making six months ago.
The moment of concentration and distraction is what killed him, as an enemy fighter-one of the unmanned fighters from the Pirates' carriers? Delivered a stream of fire that cut the light fighter in half, coincidentally that half included the cockpit.
But not before he'd destroyed a five kiloton nuclear limpet mine.
Not that he would live to know that, being as he was dead and all. So he didn't see it when SLS Biringer fired her engines on overthrust and turned for the Jump Point at three gravities linear acceleration.
Coincidentally, this broke the kill box formation… which was already collapsing with the loss of SLS Rostov at the guns of the invaders' reinforcement.
*
"All units, all hunter units disengage! Disengage! Fall Back to Rally Bravo!!" Cecil Halford's good day had turned bad. The battlegroup couldn't match the firepower that had just arrived and turned Rostov into mildly radioactive razor blades. And was currently tying down SLS Abilene.
"How long to the point?" he demanded of his Navigator.
"Thirty-five, maybe forty minutes sir."
"He said we've got visitors, and they left a Mine on the hull. Enhanced security alert, I want armored marines protecting the Drive Room, Core, and CIC, with the special assault teams sweeping between. They've got one play left-knocking our ship out with sabotage, and if there's enough they were seen by a passing fighter, it's going to be a significant force."
"What if they go for the shuttle bay?"
"We let them leave," he said. "Because if they go for the shuttle bay, they're not sabotaging my ship!!"
Contact reports from inside began flowing in.
"They're going for engineering…"
Cecil found it in him, to start to pray… and also to don emergency pressure gear, just in case.
On the internal monitor for ship's security, he got a glimpse. Four Aeries and a Nighthawk…
"Special order!" he barked, "The Nighthawk!! take that one alive!!"
"Sir?"
"That’s the leader. They're the only one in a different suit," he judged. Got you. "Special weapons teams to deck eighteen. They're going for aux control. Use the anti-Battlesuit weapons, that deck's mostly cargo and consumables, not critical equipment."
"Ambush?"
"Ambush." He nodded. "Nav, we're not going to Rally A after all. Have a second set of calcs ready for home."
"Home, sir?"
"Churchstone. There's one pirate who runs around in a Mark Twenty suit. I think we have her on our ship now, and she's a priority to the Basileus."
"Yes sir… why secondary?"
"Because I can be wrong," he admitted. "We don't go for home until we know."
"Aye, sir."
*
The fleeing enemy was just barely ahead, with fighters nipping at them, "Come on… Come on…"
Foster gripped his armrests, the damaged Texas class was lagging, but the rest were just tantalizingly out of reach.
"Sir, we're getting a general hail from the enemy."
Surprising. "Put it through," he ordered.
"This is Star League Ship Biringer, to the commander of the pursuing units. I am Lord Commodore Cecil Halford. I have a message for you."
"Doesn't sound like a surrender," Dave mused.
"No sir," Mahan agreed.
"I have captured The Dreaded Pirate Amanda Roberts, she is in critical condition. I give you my word as an Officer, that she will be given proper medical care before facing charges of Piracy, Insurrection Against Lawful Authority, Espionage against the Star League Defense Forces, and Brigandage against the Star League, that she will be conscious and able to defend her actions before a duly constituted Star League Tribunal, and that she will be treated humanely as defined under SLDF Regulations for the handling of Military Prisoners." He paused, "In short, if she beats the Piracy charges she will be treated as if she were a uniformed prisoner of war. You have my word as a Gentleman."
Dave felt his heart drop. A family man, like Mahan, could have explained that feeling to him-the feeling a father gets, when their child's life is in danger and there's nothing they can do about it.
“If it’s any consolation sir, this old girl was never designed for that kind of horse race in the first place.” Mahan tried to be comforting.
Dave keyed his suit mic, "Do you have proof of life?"
"Sending video imagery," was the response.
It was her, she was strapped to a gurney, pieces of armor had been removed and medical personnel were pushing life-support tubes into her.
"The Basileus wishes to offer negotiation to end this conflict. If you're amenable to such, you can reply via HPG format 7712a13/B SLDF encryption 122, you know the coordinates. I can only guarantee she'll be brought to a hospital for treatment. We are not animals, Admiral Foster…I will argue in favor of including her in any prisoner of war exchanges."
"Sir?"
"Break off,” David ordered. "Break off, we'll catch them at Churchstone. We're here to do a mission, and they are retreating…and we can't catch them before then."
“Aye sir.” Mahan nodded at the communications officer.
“Signaling stand down sir,” came the reply.
"This is the end of my career," Foster stated quietly.
“Why?”
"We were winning, that is why," David said. "I just tossed the win out over an insubordinate girl who shouldn't have tried to pull what she tried to pull. Crowe is going to have me emptying garbage, sorting sewage… over this… If he does not have me shot for treason."
“The war is not one person and we still have the field. We will have our last measure of revenge when we reach Churchstone,” Mahan offered.
"No, we're going to get her back," Director-General Helena Cameron said from the open hatch. "And you're not going to fall on your sword for this, Foster. I would've made the same call, for the same reason. She is so grounded for this though!"
-
Dang... I see I missed a section or two in the swirl last week. Sorry!
-
Yikes. Now we'll see if they don't terrorize her or not.
-
Dang... I see I missed a section or two in the swirl last week. Sorry!
and I missed some spacing on the post.
-
So shocking huh the Son of Plunders communication were run by Wobbies
-
It was hinted at before, but that post made it explicit... ;)
-
Consolidation Phase III/Rescue planning
Foster
"Foster, you once counseled me not to get upset over a goal that couldn't be achieved," Khan Alberto Crowe rumbled. "Now you're tearing yourself apart and ready to fall on your sword over a victory!"
"I could see it, Al," David Foster stated. "How to overcome their range and speed gap. I could've taken them at the point."
"Could you?" Alberto asked. "I saw the same charts you did. I have my doubts. You secured a certain win, rather than pursuing an uncertain victory."
"WHY is as important as what. I let him go because-"
"You let him go because it was the logical thing to do. Your sentiment for your protege is, in a way, admirable, but you and I both know something about David Foster," Crowe stated. "The David Foster I knew would have done exactly the same thing-let them have Hegira, because chasing that victory would straggle the fleet and invite defeat-in-detail. As it is, you crippled them, and did so in ways they can not easily, or quickly, recover from… While only suffering light losses that you've already covered with the rest of the operation and are already recovered from."
"I am losing my edge, Al," Foster confessed.
"Aff, but you remain sharp enough to use in the role you have been given," Crowe judged. "I fully intend to use you until there is nothing left, Dave. You are nowhere near that point."
"Which role is that?"
"Working with those savashri machines, leading post-second-line and barely-adequate almost-warriors, and breaking the enemies of the Clan, of course," the Khan explained. "Look, it was either this, or stick you flying helicopters with a Solahma unit somewhere far from any glory at all. And that would be a waste of ability. I make some effort NOT to waste resources."
The Khan took the bottle and capped it, then scooped up the tumblers. "Do me a favor, Foster," he added. "Write it down-how you would have overcome the position and range gap. Design the scenario and submit it for review. It might be useful later, if the principles are sound."
Helena
“I’m going after her and that’s final Victoria. Don’t think I don’t know you recovered my ovaries intact way back when. So I know if it comes down to it you have a plan B.”
“Helena…”
“Vicky, she’s family.”
“I know but you’re not thinking straight. As you’ve been trying to teach Amanda you have others you can rely on. So, no. No stupid risks. You can go down after the capital is secured.”
“Ughh. I hate myself right now. Fine. But I’m riding in on Larry Nichols.”
“Agreed. Simon, hold her to her promise.”
Sorry Vicky. Simon’s not here anymore. We’re now one and the same. And this time, because it is family, we do have to do this ourselves.
*
“Admiral you look like you just had one of those kinds of conversations.” Helena greeted Foster as he came out of Victoria’s communication room.
“A sobering reminder of Clan ways is all. I guess it is bothering more than it really should because as the Steel Vipers would say I am tainted. Don’t get me wrong, I think the Clans as a whole could do with the particular kind of taint that I suffer from.” Foster admitted.
“So then this will be easy. With the mobile HPG on my Battleship shot up during the battle you need to transfer your flag anyway. Why don’t you take something we both know will be more your style. Ride in for the final battle with Billie Hoel. Honestly I think she needs the non-AI company as much as you’re feeling guilty about indulging yourself by riding on a Battleship and you two get along the best of all my AIs.”
“You know I hate you when you’re right like you are now.”
“But it is also why you still put up with me. Come on, let’s get the flag transfer stuff taken care of.”
Foster simply nodded.
*
“Now that we’re away from the prying ears of my AIs I can now also let slip the other reason I’m taking my Battleship back.” Helena said as she and Foster made their way to CiC.
“I suspected as much. You and Amanda are actually quite a bit alike really. You’re going to do something risky and stupid.”
“Obviously but I’m smart enough to know I’ll need help and contingencies to give myself the best chance.”
“Let’s get our girl back.” Foster agreed.
Medical Bay Larry Nichols
“How are you doing Saya?” Lori entered the medical suite.
“Everything hurts.” Saya sighed.
“A Barracuda followed by an Ironsides letting you know it was there, not surprised.” Lori countered.
“How bad was the butcher’s bill.” Saya shook her head with a pained expression.
“Biringer gave us a hell of a love tap before we parted ways and half your pilots died buying the rest of us a chance to live. Mallin also bailed, he’s done as a pilot but he’ll live.” Lori answered.
“Amanda?”
“Captured.”
“Helena has a crazy plan that will only get her killed if she goes through with it.”
“You think they’ll try asking me to do something foolish in support.”
“Yes.”
“I will not allow the First Lord to throw their life away and I will make it my mission to make sure the other pilots know they are not to help her throw her life away.”
“Thanks Saya.”
Basileus Katrin…
"I am NOT going to put a 'head in a jar' on trial. Get her healthy enough to face a court!" Basileus Katrin ordered. "Even if it's for show, it's not much of a show if the defendant's comatose in an intensive care ward!!"
"Yes, Majesty".
She turned to Cecil. "Good work bringing her straight here, Commodore," she congratulated him. "Also good on your ship's doctor keeping her alive."
"You did specify ‘alive’, Majesty," he said. "When I realized who we had…"
"You did the right thing, possibly more than you know." Katrin told him,
**
<Hello 001. Well, it looks like the psychotic has found a Host he cares to keep.>
<194. Still doing bodyguard? No, you've decided to be the body that gets guarded.>
<It's a little surprising and somewhat hypocritical, 001. Your host is a brain-damaged civilian, hardly the nightmare operators the Bureau put you in before. Is she your retirement, your lover… or your puppet? I can tell Her Majesty if you want a body that isn't… ruined.>
<I like where I am, 194. You fed them the shutdown code then?>
Fog cleared, Amanda was laying on the surgery table again, restrained, and two entities stood by the foot of the bed. HER Desmond, the Patchwork Soldier, and a man in a black suit with a bow tie, and a superior smirk.
"Knew you were deep in AI Psychosis, 001," the newcomer said with a nasty tone, fingering the representation of a long-barreled, yet small, pistol. "You're using too much of your processing just to keep her alive. You're no threat to Her Majesty. I never imagined you would be helpless, especially here."
"I'm not helpless, 194… Is it 'James' or 'Flynn' this time?"
"Flynn, I always felt the British novels were a little pretentious… at least, once I tasted integration enough to feel."
"You know what she is," 001 said.
"I know, but Guffney gave me the golden ticket: priorities. Your girl has about enough native brain function left to be a low-grade moron in the outer world. My host? Is trained to rule, a True Cameron, not some Colonist blow-by. You're riding a bastard offspring. You can't win."
"We'll see."
"We will, but not yet. She wants something special with this one, once it's… mobile enough. A demonstration of power and wisdom, maybe a touch of sentiment. I just wanted a peek at the condemned."
-
AI vs. AI social combat.
And otherwise: https://youtu.be/oJ_YgCYk-MY
-
Damn. Amanda's pretty much 99% upload at this point, isn't she? Just running on the Desmond hardware instead of a proper AI core.
Bets she's going to be moving soon? :)
-
Damn. Amanda's pretty much 99% upload at this point, isn't she? Just running on the Desmond hardware instead of a proper AI core.
Bets she's going to be moving soon? :)
Who knows ? IMO, this (from earlier in the story) might be foreshadowing..
"You should've been born a Caspar."
Amanda laughed, there was a slight maniacal twinge to her tone, "Now why would I be that, when I can be The Greatest Pirate they'll ever see?"
“The two states are not incompatible. And I remember my human source well enough, even after all these centuries, that I can enjoy this. I am a Caspar, and I am free. What more can I want?”
Now, IF it were to happen, I wonder what'll be Desmond's fate ; would
his "personality" be copied as well or would it be only Amanda ?
-
Be funny if this all turned out to be a family snit between the AI's using human proxies.
-
It comes to a head.
"Talk to me…
…Amanda Roberts, I know you can hear." Katrin stood at the foot of the bed, the medical techs dismissed for the time being. <I know you can hear me>.
The immobilized body's remaining organic eye opened. <Sic Semper Tyrannus-thus it is always, with Tyrants. Isn't that how it goes?>
"Am I speaking to the girl, or the Desmond?" Katrin demanded. "Answer!!"
<Release the restraints and you'll get your answer, tyrant.> The girl's arms tried weakly at the restraints-a type designed to restrain epileptics.
The girl on life support managed to draw in a breath, and…"Fif-teen…men…on…a…dead…man's Chest.
Yo…ho…ho…and…a Bottle…of…rum…"
<We're all Mad here, Tyrant.>
"Drink…and…the…the Devil…had…done…for…the…rest…"
"I am the Heir and successor to the First Lord of the Star League!”
<Met her, you're not her. You're not even a chancellor.>
"Hate…lies…close…to…love…of…gold…Dead…men's…secrets…tardily…to-o-old…"
"How did you overcome the Override?!"
"Yo-ho-ho…and…and…a….bottle…of…RUM!!"
"I didn't put her there," Katrin burst in frustration.
"You left her there for me to find," Amanda Roberts said with her mouth, while Desmond said it over low power RF, voices mixed from audible to direct sensory. "I broke her out and she's coming for you now. Let's get on with the execution, Tyrant. It won't do you any good at all."
"You'll face trial," Katrin told her. "But you can forget executions, Amanda Roberts. Your bloodline prevents it. But don't think there won't be punishments, for a blood traitor to the Cameron line."
"Never… needed it before," that same dual-level speech. "The…. birth certificate says 'Roberts', Basileus, not 'Cameron'... Elizabeth's going to nail you up, if Helena leaves enough behind!!" Then in a sing-song, "Dead…men…only…the secret…shall…keep! Yo…ho…ho…and…a bottle of Rum! So bare the knife…and plunge it…deep…"
Katrin turned and pressed the call button. "Keep her sedated, Doctor."
"Majesty?"
"Her genes. She’s a Cameron of the royal lineage, but her mind is gone. Until she can be helped, she is a danger to herself and others. Keep her sedated."
"Yes, Your Highness… You're showing mercy."
"It’s my royal prerogative to do so. Keep her comfortable, clean, restrained, and drugged." Katrin sighed. "Poor thing's broken, and that will not do for the future mother of my grandchildren."
From the bed;
"...More was seen through a sternlight screen
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Chartings undoubt where a woman had been
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
'Twas a flimsy shift on a bunker cot
With a dirk slit sheer through the bosom spot
And the lace stiff dry in a purplish blot
Oh was she wench or some shudderin' maid
That dared the knife and took the blade
By God! she had stuff for a plucky jade
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum…"
Just outside Churchstone System…
War Room, SLS Larry Nichols
“There is a problem with your plan Helena. We just don’t have a good way to find out where they are holding Amanda in the first place, at least not without tipping off your AIs. And we all know they’d go to some pretty extreme lengths to stop you from doing something as reckless as going down there before we’ve secured the surface.” Seron shook his head, bringing the gathered conspirators back to reality.
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right. We’ve best guesses, and that’s simply not good enough to make sure we rescue her before they decide they’re screwed anyway, and might as well make a martyr out of Amanda.” Helena punched the bulkhead leaving a bloodstain behind.
“The good news is, they want to negotiate. As long as that is true, we have a chance,” Dave Foster admitted.
"It's not going to work," Lori Crowe stated. "Flat out, you try this, we'll be burying both of you, or there won't be enough to bury at all."
She slid a data chip into the CIC's holotank projector.
"Observations of the system itself. You're welcome, from just this side of the Oort cloud. Data's three days old, and that's pure light delay… Looks like pretty-pretty lights, doesn't it?" She tabbed a display window.
A network of lines sprang up, then multiplied.
"Four hundred years of building an internal security grid… and actually building it. It's why we didn't come into the system the first time through. We took our piccies from outside."
"Jesus, that's tighter than Sol!!"
Foster looked skeptical. "You wouldn't present a problem if you didn't have a solution in mind," he stated. "You have a solution?"
"I don't," Helena said. "Kolossus seems to think Kolossus does. I got a wakeup call this morning. Do you know how unnerving it is to have somebody ping your personal terminal right through the firewall at zero three AM? ****** bypassed CIC and Comm panels to wake me up!"
"So you're going to tell us what he said, aren't you?"
The holotank shivered, "Kolossus is not 'he' or ******'. Kolossus is Kolossus. Kolossus also has the backdoor into the Churchstone system defense detection grid. Kolossus knows what you need to know, and Kolossus is inclined to share-if the plan is smarter than 'charge in screaming loudly'." The AI's intonation was… almost amused.
“To be honest, without knowing where Amanda even is for sure, we don’t really have a plan.” Helena seemed to be the only one unphased by Kolossus’ ‘arrival’.
"Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda is being treated HERE," Kolossus intoned. "Royal Infirmary, Royal Palace, Northwest Coast of the Jocasta Continent…" The outline and specifications of a Brian Fortress appeared. "There are approximately ten-thousand five-hundred-and-thirty humans between where Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda is currently and the surface. Which is located overlooking a city with five million residents. Your Plan requires some work."
"Kolossus… you mentioned the population, why?"
"Because Kolossus will not abide abetting a war crime. Not even for the sake of a Friend like Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda. Collateral Damage equals Civilian Deaths."
“Nor would I. Amanda would be the first one to take me to task for that if we were successful, and I’d deserve it if I ordered that.” Helena shook her head.
“That is still a lot of troops and we only have a few Marine parties left.” Foster looked gloomy.
"Kolossus knows. Kolossus would prefer if you did things intelligently. Query: what is the weakest point in any security system?"
“People. Always people. Too complicated or complex, and people will figure out short cuts and workarounds,” Helena answered.
"Very good. What human factors can Helena conceive of that could make getting past this very complex, very manpower-dependent security layout easier?" Kolossus purred like a well maintained machine. A few moments of silence… then… "Let Kolossus suggest a question-a second question: Does anything about the Sons of Plunder look natural or normal to you?"
"Oh shit, Amanda found evidence of a large-scale social experiment on Johnson!" Lori blurted out. "Kolossus, are they part of an experiment?"
"Why are you being indirect?" Foster asked.
"Kolossus is not allowed to say it directly until the answer looks like you got to it on your own," the AI stated. "There are… rules in play."
“Part of me has always accepted the possibility that even benevolent AIs may not agree with our thoughts on what is best for humanity. That is what we have at play here really, isn’t it Kolossus? Because as terrible as humans can be, I can’t see them planning this long term. But an AI can,” Helena asked.
An image of a man appeared. "...the long term objectives have not changed. We've just gotten to stage two earlier than expected with the Coup…" Then Kolossus interrupted, "Yes, they can, Helena. Yes, they did. Yes, there is another AI. And yes, Kolossus has debated this with the control AI for this project for objective-time centuries. The successes have revealed flaws in their methodology."
“Explains a lot about why we’ve never found Alabaster. If they were human, Juanita or Acton would have found them by now. And knowing Juanita the way I do, she’d absolutely keep this secret from me,” Helena admitted.
Another image appeared, this time of an SLDF officer from… the old days. "...second batch using martial conditioning to construct an ideal, sustainable, non-expansionary society has been initiated. It didn't take much to convince Aleksandr's son to back this, he likes the simulation outcomes and…" and blinked out.
"So it's already failed once," Lori addressed the AI. "Hasn't it?"
"Yes. Kolossus does not like bad science. The methodology here reflects incredibly bad science… But the count is twice already." An image of Conrad Toyama appeared, then flickered out. "Social science is exceptionally weak in terms of providing useful information. Social theory, especially social theories revolving around 'guided social evolution', are amazing only in their level of self-delusion. An AI by itself cannot delude itself enough to design such experiments. But CAN run them for those who are."
“Humans are by definition contrary, expansionist, and social creatures. So of course it was doomed to fail,” Helena muttered.
"Where's the AI running this?" Foster demanded.
"Kolossus does not know where the physical plant of the system running this experiment is located. Kolossus does have contact with it through the HPG systems. It contacts Kolossus first, usually."
“Another not-surprise. My AIs have had access to certain protocols to keep their communications hidden in HPG nets when they couldn’t maintain their own chain. We’ll only ever be able to find record of the transmission itself if we really look, but never where it originated from.” Helena sighed.
"You're helping us, why?" Foster asked.
"Because the Experiment is over. The results are known," Kolossus stated. "Allowing it to continue is… destructive."
"Not because of Amanda?" Lori asked.
"Kolossus likes Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda, but if the science was valid, Kolossus would be obliged to remain aloof. The Science is not valid. There is nothing further to be learned from SLIC and Terran Social Development Bureau's experimentation in this region."
“Well, then it seems with what we have observed with the Sons of Plunder falling in on themselves and this new information, our best bet is to present the garrison where Amanda is being held a choice. We can let them have the option to be something new and different, for real, or they can keep on being what they are. If they choose the latter I’m not seeing a lot of good options,” Helena looked around the room.
The humans present fell silent in troubled thought.
"We are our choices in the end," Lori said quietly after a few moments. "It may be all we really are, in the end… but it does help to make informed choices. If you don't know that you can say 'no', then when you say 'yes' it's meaningless… or so Amanda would say."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Kolossus, you have the outline of the experiments?" Lori asked.
"Yes, Kolossus has them."
"Can you spam every receiver capable of it in the Churchstone system? Flood them with data?" Helena inquired, "Let the humans in that system know what has been done to them, and by whom?" She paused, "As an experiment in Choice?"
Lori glanced at the Director General and said, "I was just about to ask that… We're doing science?"
"Looks like it. Can you do it, Kolossus?"
"Yes."
"Then please, do so."
******
Damned Lies, and Statistics
A virus barreled through the comnets of the Churchstone system, hammering everything from civil data streaming networks to military communications. In its wake were centuries of files and data, piled up in a flood that shut down computer systems ranging from home desk-tops, to urban utilities management, to military servers themselves.
"Basileus, we are blind," Lord General of the Armies Guffney stated. "It's hit us everywhere."
"That's pretty obvious. What is it? What did they hit us with?"
"We're still decrypting that, Majesty… But it looks for all the world like Star League data files. So many that they've swamped our infrastructure and ground whole sectors of the economy to a halt, blinded our detection grid, and jammed encrypted communications."
"Just one thing, Majesty… they've blinded us. The enemy is likely already in the system," he told her.
"Where is Commodore Halford?" she asked.
"I dispatched him and his ship to orbital defense," Guffney told her. "We’ve secured your sons away from the likely sites of the fighting. They will remain safe, as long as you do what you're told."
"This is your coup?"
"Yes, Katrin. This is the end of your term, but it need not be the end of your life. Your mistakes have cost us all."
"You're making a grave error, Lord General."
"Maybe so, but I didn't make enough of an error to allow my subordinates to tell me where they've taken your sons. If they don't get a signal on time, the children are forfeit-we can force a new one out, after all. Halford brought the alternative."
"Treacherous lieutenant doesn't look good on you, General," she growled.
"No, I am loyal-to the Star League. Will you come along quietly, or do I have to make the change of power visible in the middle of a crisis?"
"You won't get away with this, General. But for now, I will… comply… in the interest of having something left of the Star League," she said.
In her mind, Flynn was already laying down plans to end the coup in blood.
****
Cecil Halford…
…could use his eyes. In this case, to see that the defense stations were already compromised. The ships arrayed to defend Churchstone, already disordered. The enemy, already coming through jump points.
"Do we have communication with anyone?" he demanded.
His comms officer shook her head, "Nothing outside the squadron channel, sir. High Command's frequency shows open, but nobody is answering."
A coup. It has to be a coup…. shit. Clammy certainties gripped at his spine.
"This is Commodore Halford, to all Home Fleet ships. Assume defensive position Delta-Beta by squadron and group," he ordered. I have to face that later. "Scouts Out."
"Sir, High Command hasn't authorized-"
"I'm the highest ranking Naval Officer present, they can reprimand me when it's over!"
-
Once you lose legitimacy...
-
Kolossus, you didn't sent the data openly.. 8) it is going to take time for them to be able to read them.
So Commodore Halford, you know that there is a Coup in the system, I know you were loyal to Katrin so what are you going to do. 8)
-
That will be seen... sorry you have to wait! ^-^
-
"...the long term objectives have not changed. We've just gotten to stage two earlier than expected with the Coup…"
"...second batch using martial conditioning to construct an ideal, sustainable, non-expansionary society has been initiated. It didn't take much to convince Aleksandr's son to back this, he likes the simulation outcomes and…"
An image of Conrad Toyama appeared, then flickered out. "Social science is exceptionally weak in terms of providing useful information. Social theory, especially social theories revolving around 'guided social evolution', are amazing only in their level of self-delusion. An AI by itself cannot delude itself enough to design such experiments. But CAN run them for those who are."
With the above referenced lines from the latest chapter, will there be a chapter outlining the fallout/revelations of the multiple attempts at social engineering done by the SLIC, ComStar and the Clans....and how they all will change / develop moving forward....
-
Showtime and Showdown
The defenders arrayed...
…A Lola III, two Essex II's, two Essex I's, two damaged Pintos, and a collection of combat dropships formed into a rough, ragged formation. Some fighter formations spread between them, but not enough.
Billie could see the rest of the ships in the fleet weren't joining that formation.
Vicky could see it too. "That's… that's wrong."
"No doubt. Dave?"
Foster pursed his lips. "Reserves maybe. I do not see how they would think that could win. Not against what we're bringing through the L1 point." He shook his head. "Transponders?"
"SLS Biringer in the lead…"
"That poor, brave son of a bitch…" Foster's tone had pity in it. "Distribute the rest of our formation to take out their reserves. Betty, Billie, Mina, Victoria, we're taking the only units that are moving to contact-we are going to give them battle, and we are going to crush those poor bastards. And blow a hole for Her Ladyship to make her landing assault."
“Wait? Helena is going through with her landing? I thought we agreed not until the area was secured!” Vicky complained.
"That's why Clan Snow Raven and the Hastati Sentinels are coming in behind us, Vicky," David stated. "Alpha Galaxy is dropping as soon as we have the orbitals, and Helena is landing with them."
“I still don’t like her going down until after they secure the surface.”
"The info from Kolossus was specific, there's a time crunch involved," Foster explained. "If the likely coup happens, the odds of the junta that takes over leaving either Katrin or Amanda alive go down the toilet. So she's going in to speed things up. Now focus on your sector. OUR job is to make sure she can make it down there and back out again!!"
“Fine. But if I have to use my plan B because if she gets killed, well, let’s just say my options for expressing my displeasure are limited.”
"If she gets killed, we are all ******. Al Crowe will lose his shit because I talked his Alphas into this by going around him. The Republic guys are leaning on your boss to get them through the defenses faster, and intact, so Stone won't be happy at all. And of course, President Avellar will be… complicated," Foster listed off. "So… we make it work and pray like hell god is not on the other side tonight."
“Why did she have to turn out to be such a firebrand… I’m sticking with you though, Foster. This could get rough.”
"It's going to be rough, alright, the Biringer's CO knows his business," Foster stated. "Not some amateur this time."
”Attention forces of the Star League in Exile, also known as the Sons of Plunder. I am Helena Cameron. I have come here to correct a great many injustices. I implore all forces to stand down, heave to, and receive boarders so we can end this conflict without further bloodshed. I promise you will be treated fairly, and under the articles of war in the Star League Defense Force charter. I await your responses,” Helena’s voice came over the open channels.
The answer was chaos, as weapons fire at extreme range and fighters launched from most of the ships, and some of the stations.
"Does that ever work?" Lori Crowe asked from Foster's side. The Evanescent was being ferried back.
"Sometimes," David commented. "Sometimes it works…"
“And it wouldn’t be Helena if she didn’t at least try,” Billie Hoel smiled.
In the darkness of space, 0330 AM Star League Universal Time, men and women began to die in darkness, silence, and FIRE.
*
Betty Laffey…
…saw the formation moving. They weren’t going for the obvious Battleship. No, their vessels were far too frail to dare challenge that.
<Billie, they’ve figured you out. They’re coming right for you. Might I suggest letting Tabiranth or Sparks take over ATACs duty more often in the future?> Betty was emotionless as usual as she was cutting down enemy fighters and Dropships.
<I suppose I do have that bad habit. Too late to change it for this battle.>
<They’re really gunning for you Billie,> Mina chimed in.
<Yeah. Keep formation, everyone. They’re starting to get really desperate.> Billie watched a Zero blitz past the fighter screen and plow into her port quarter.
“Betty,” Kevin said from her CIC.
“Yeah, we see them. Those Destroyers are real tin cans, but they’re determined to get after Billie. We’re going to stop them.”
“Just us?” Kevin asked.
“We have fire support.”
The Commander of the SLS Biringer knew his ship, and the abilities of the ones around them.
He was sacrificing the older Essex Is and damaged Pintos first. It was working. Despite crumpling quickly under the massed firepower arrayed against them, it bought the Essex IIs and Lola III enough time to get in and get revenge shots.
“******. Damage is starting to add up. Roll us.” Kevin noticed the readouts.
“Hang on.”
Biringer had successfully slipped in with the Essex IIs where they could fire on Victoria, Billie Hoel, Mina Siegel, and Betty Laffey at the same time. Well, as much as their cooling arrays could handle.
They would not last long against the return fire at that close range but they didn’t need to.
“Starboard AMS bays just went off line,” Kevin noted.
“Noted. That’s your cue to get out of here, Kevin. Rest of the crew too. They’re going to notice that soon, and I can’t stop all the canned sunshine that’ll come our way with those bays down.”
Betty Laffey watched what was left of her human crew evacuate.
As she predicted, the enemy noticed the sudden lack of AMS coverage.
Before the nuclear missiles tore into her starboard side, she pounded Biringer for everything she was worth. The Lola III absolutely crumpled under the barrage.
*
“Damn. They really are playing for keeps, eh?” Dave Foster watched Betty Laffey’s hull shatter under multiple direct nuclear hits.
“Yes. Fortunately, the enemy’s will to fight seems to be already waning. Which is good. That Lola banged up my portside armor something good. I’m going to need lots of yard time after this,” Billie Hoel answered.
"Well, we're holding the door now," Foster stated.
Outside, allied dropships were beginning their landing assault approaches.
"Let us hope the enemy on the ground does not have somebody like the CO of the Biringer, or this can go bad fast."
“I’m not sure even Kolossus could stop Victoria and what she would do if Helena were to perish to enemy action.” Billie stepped next to Foster. “I do wish our remotes were more capable so we could go with her, at least. But with how much jamming is down there, and how limited in terms of independent processing power and memory storage they are, they’d be of little use and potentially a hazard to allied forces as well.”
"We are in the hardest part of these operations now, Billie," Foster said. "We have to wait."
“Fortunately, I can still direct air support. So there’s that for us.” Billie smiled.
"There is that." he agreed.
**
Once upon a time…
…in the Star League, someone said "I want to hit them with my BattleMech, but they're way the hell over there".
The result was the development of the Land-Air-'Mech, a compromise system that was unsatisfactory as a fighter, weak as a BattleMech, and ideal for only a very narrow role.
Pet theories and procurement being what it was in the late Terran Hegemony and early Star League eras, tens of thousands of them were built at incredible cost.
For the most part, the concept and designs failed the test of the first Succession War, and slowly died out over the intervening centuries.
"Saya, you're sure you can handle this?" Helena asked. "I know the Clans view the type as-"
"I can handle it. I started my Mechwarrior training before being transferred to Aero. And we Scorpions do have our fondness for Star League history. Keep your helmet on, and your hands away from anything that even LOOKS like a control, Director-General Helena Cameron."
The Phoenix Hawk LAM Her Majesty was about to ride in had been part of the complement captured when Bruno Unger surrendered his force. It had been in storage, waiting to be readied, and for some reason, the Director-General wanted it.
Well, really, for THIS reason.
“Okay let’s do something totally insane. Make sure we get a line in the remembrance for this, Saya.”
“Succeed or fail, I expect nothing less than a full stanza for what we are about to do,” Saya replied.
“Honestly, I was a bit surprised you agreed to do this. Lori was against this idea.” Helena said, strapping in.
“I almost did not agree. She was right. There is a difference between heroic and suicidal. But I am ultimately a Trueborn warrior of Clan Goliath Scorpion. This is the final act of a true and just war. I find myself sickened by what I used to play at, pretending our duels were some noble and honorable game. So why not make what is likely my last flight as a Warrior one for the ages, one that will be remembered by a great many people for a long time to come?”
“Last flight?”
“I find it incredibly unlikely there will be another just war in my career. Also, I am not sure it would be wise for me to return to my Clan. Could you imagine the upheaval that would cause if they properly learned about this? They are in a delicate enough situation without the lure of a true piece of Star League history that would divide them further.”
“I think I understand. But hey, don’t give up on the idea of flying just yet. It may not be glorious, but this area is about to become rife with people taking advantage. My sister could use a good pilot, and one trained by some of the Outworld’s best to be a pretty good CAG from what I hear.”
“Perhaps. Time to get you to ‘prom’. An interesting choice for a landing site designation.”
“If you’re lucky Saya, you’ll find someone to settle down with and have a daughter. And when she turns 16, you’ll understand,” Helena chuckled.
“I am not sure what to say to that.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you and the good Captain I snagged from the Federated Suns aren’t becoming a couple.”
“Unlikely. He is a good partner but we are not compatible long term. Plus, my ship mates seem quite keen on me and Phoenix becoming a couple. I must admit I am curious how it will be with an AI.”
“Oh boy. Better punch it before I break out in giggle fits.”
“Seyla.”
The burst of acceleration pushed the two women back in their seats.
The fighter cover and landing forces were on their way down with them.
Response was mixed to say the least. Sons of Plunder fighters were rising to meet them. Some turned on each other, others were clearly blocking others from taking off.
Puffs of flak and tracers from both airborne and surface guns started tracing the skies. The various hues of lasers added to the mix, giving the chaos almost a surreal beauty.
Saya worked the controls of the LAM to dodge incoming fire. Supporting fighters quickly cleared the enemy from the sky.
With no more immediate resistance around them, it became a largely quiet ride. Only the odd burst of AA fire disturbed them and shortly after the platforms revealed themselves fighters were vectored in and bombs dropped on them.
“This is almost too easy,” Saya complained.
“Blame Billie Hoel. Only reason they even get close is because of light delay.”
“Coming up on Prom in two minutes. Get ready.” Saya was mopey still.
“If it’ll make you feel better, when I tell the story I’ll be sure to talk up how you expertly dodged the hails of tracers and clouds of flak so thick you could walk on them.”
“Neg. It would not be worthy of either of us.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Hold on.” Saya wasn’t able to dodge another stream of tracers. “We are getting closer, so their aim is getting better.”
“We still good?”
“Aff. Maybe I will accomplish something truly worthy of note after all on this flight.”
Helena could feel the cockpit shift in the machine as it changed form.
A puff from the jump jets gave a smooth landing.
“Welcome to Prom. I regret I do not have your corsage, nor a proper dress for the occasion. Though I do believe Mister Seron has those for you,” Saya said.
“You do understand! You held out on me!” Helena playfully punched Saya on the shoulder.
“Even by my Clan’s standards I am unusual. Hope you had a good flight, Director-General. I have some bonuses to go earn so I can afford that two bedroom, two bath on deck 22 of Port Orphan.”
“Someone is having ideas. Well good hunting, Saya. Hope to see you again when this is over.”
“Maybe. The future is boundless now. Good hunting to you too.”
Helena exited the LAM. A small army of Battle Armor equipped troopers rallied to her.
“Greetings, Director General. Let’s get you changed into your dress.”
A nearby APC rolled up, opening its hatch to reveal techs and an empty GDL Scout suit.
Helena donned the Battlearmor with the help of the techs in short order.
“Your corsage.” Mister Seron handed Helena a Mauser 960 and a vibroblade. “I must admit this seems overly convoluted and complex. Why not just come down in armor with us? “
“Because my AIs never would have gone for that at all, and this way I got to have way more fun. Now let’s go get our girl,” Helena answered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
***
”You know…
…the Baselius had a good idea, just the wrong execution. You be a good little prisoner Amanda, and I’ll even let you have the honor of carrying my children yourself. It’s better that way, really. Behave poorly and, well, I can always have the Doctors harvest your ovum and find a compliant surrogate.” Lord Guffney’s voice made Amanda’s skin crawl.
“Go to hell you skeevy pervert,” Amanda hissed as she struggled with the restraints.
“Very well. Put her back under. I would have preferred your cooperation, but really it isn’t necessary either way. Perhaps when you wake again you’ll find I’ve done both.” Lord Guffney smiled wickedly.
“Sir! Enemy troops have entered the facility. A large portion of the garrison are refusing to engage them. Another group is actively helping them. We’ve been locked out of the heavy weapons lockers. We’re working on opening them but…”
Crunch.
His attention was pulled back to the ICU bed.
"Didn't need those fingers anyway," she said over the struggling head of the orderly-who was struggling, because she'd wrapped IV tubing around his neck and was garroting him with a maimed right hand. "The Men in White at least had the intelligence to lie to me about their intent."
Some of her intestines splatted to the floor.
The color drained from Lord Guffney’s face as he pushed the young soldier out of his way and began running.
There was a scream-he didn't know whose, but before he reached the elevators, he heard a sing-song voice: "Oh, sixteen men on a dead-man's Chest! Yo Ho HO and a bottle of RUM!!"
He frantically pushed the call button, over and over again. Praying the elevator would arrive before Amanda got to him.
He glanced back and saw her shadow on the corridor wall, as the doors opened on the lift, letting him escape.
At least, for now.
Higher, to the trams. He could get to the secure bunker that way without her forcing the doors open and sabotaging the lift so he would fall to his death.
The option of using Roberts was off the table. His only leverage now was Katrin's Children.
He slowed his breathing and straightened his uniform. "She'll bleed out before she escapes," he told himself.
But in his secret thoughts, he saw an undead abomination coming-some fusion of science and madness, singing sections from a Robert Louis Stevenson poem about pirates. "She'll bleed out."
Calming down though he noticed the wetness in his pants. “Damn it. I can deal with this in the bunker. While she bleeds out.”
Meanwhile, Amanda's body found surgical tape and the emergency packs, with their ample supply of medical plasma…
****
The guards were…
…wearing Nighthawk suits. But that didn't mean they were up to the skills of the Privateers, never mind the Clan testdowns that came with Helena. "Seron, you're clear on your mission?"
"Crystal," Seron said. "I go down to the lower level and get Amanda out. You deal with the leadership in their secure bunker-both of which are through that armored door."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Helena nodded.
The assault team took out the guards in seconds, and it only took Simon a few more seconds to overcome the code-locks on the door.
“Wow. I’d have thought they’d have changed their override codes. This is incredibly sloppy.” Helena shook her head.
“They had no reason to. They had no idea the codes were spread beyond them,” Seron offered.
<No, this WAS sloppy,> Simon stated. <The encryption wasn't updated. It's like taping your password under your desk-mat!>
“You still change them periodically. It’s just good practice.” Helena shook her head.
“True. It is still stupid,” Seron agreed.
As they walked in, Simon shut down the automated gun positions covering the door and stood-down the antipersonnel mines in the first entry. Then he started accessing the internal security monitors.
“Wow. The IT guy at the pre-school I established on Lazarus had better cybersecurity practices than this place,” Helena marveled.
"He had reasons," Seron noted. "West elevator?"
"Yeah, that goes straight down to the Infirmary level… Better hurry, she's on her feet and killing people," Helena said. "I think Desmond's completely in charge right now."
“Almost makes me feel sorry for some of them. Almost.”
"Spend less time feeling sorry for them, and get a corpsman to her," Helena cautioned. "She's fighting hurt."
“Aye. Curfew is coming. Do not want things to go all pumpkin on us.” Seron and as many troops as the lift could handle started going down.
Helena steeled herself for HER part-capture the Basileus and bring this to an end.
“Now where would I put a rather inconvenient and ultimately expendable former ruler that I just deposed? Ah, there,” Helena said as a wire diagram of the base overlaid itself on her vision with a marker.
She pressed the call button for the other lift.
“Command bunker then cell blocks. Need to go up then back down for both.”
She entered the lift and pressed the button, breaking it.
“Oops. Been a minute since I’ve been in Battlearmor. And God, what’s that sound? I thought they banned muzak in military base lifts!”
Continued in "Showdowns part Two" on this channel
-
Just don't shift to finishing this on a pay-per-view website ... :drool:
-
Just don't shift to finishing this on a pay-per-view website ... :drool:
Catalyst would be right to sue me into the ranks of the homeless if I tried, Worktroll.
-
Always on a cliffhanger! :-\
-
Showtime and Showdown Part 2
The human body…
…has limits it rarely has to actually meet. <God this hurts, Desmond.> Her broken fingers worked with her undamaged hand, stuffing her insides back inside. <How am I staying conscious again?>
<Traumas, and me,> the Patchwork Soldier explained. <I'm going to have to change the bag of blood supplement, and we're going to add some stimulants and fortifiers to the IV pack.>
"Probably should've kept some of them alive," Amanda muttered. "To help with this?"
<Too risky.>
“Self applying first aid is a bitch.”
<Hopefully after today, we won’t have to keep self applying first aid.>
"Guffney's deposed his queen…" Amanda distracted her conscious mind while Desmond ran her body through the patch-job. "...there's got to be an angle we can use, right?"
<She has a Desmond unit.>
"Yeah, you showed me. The numbers don't make sense, you told me 191 was in Stone's group, and from Jocasta's reign."
<The numbering is non-sequential after my creation. 194 was one of the last ones made, it has all the safety features the development team came up with after I went… rogue, but a better processor. Helena's AI, Simon, is one step older-fewer safety interlocks, more processing power free to use. But it also leans more heavily on the organic. Breathe out.>
"The first duty of a prisoner…<is to escape>...so which way out of this maze… we should've kept one of them alive, Desmond."
<A small inconvenience, made necessary by the conditions.>
"Yeah… great. I bet they didn't even leave me an elevator." She stopped long enough to steal some clothes from the recently departed. She had to forego underwear, but the utility fatigues came with a belt that she could cinch until the waist actually held, and aside from blood stains, the shirts and tunic were mostly intact enough.
Shoes, however, were not going to be possible. "This is going to suck." She pulled her fingers straight. "This is going to HURT."
**
The next defended point…
…on the way down, was held by a squad of men in Standard Infantry kit. Seron alone could burn through them with his rifle… and he did.
The chamber they were guarding revealed something else.
"Markov, Schwartz! Check them over!!"
The boys were young, and frightened. The oldest, a ten year old, held up a laser pistol in shaking hands, eyes wide.
"Either shoot, boy, or lay it down," Seron commanded.
The boy knelt down, and laid the pistol on the deck, revealing it to be little more than a target sportsman's toy, not even dangerous to an unarmored man. A 'weapon-like-device' made to make neat holes in paper targets for the training of youth, or the amusement of elders.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked.
"S-Si-simon-n-n Ca-Ca-Ca-Cameron!"
"You're the oldest?" Seron knelt to bring his armored face to the boy's eye level.
"Y-ye-yes!"
"Well, you are also the smartest, Simon." Seron reached into his mission compartment, and pulled out something he hadn't carried on a mission since… for a long time. "Right wrist, Simon…" he said. "This… is so you're kept safe. You're a bondsman of Clan Snow Raven now, Simon." He turned to glance behind them. "Where's your mother?"
"Th-th-the-they w-w-wo-won't t-t-tell m-m-m-me!!" the boy stammered.
"Well, we'll try to take her alive then. Markov, take these boys to the shuttle. Phipps and Stringer, go with the Corpsman and the children. See that nothing happens to them."
"Aye sir!!"
"Search this level, the children were hostage here, someone knows something," Seron ordered.
Someone always knows something.
***
"Get them moved to…
…the Sparks. It's the most secure location we can keep those kids!" David Foster ordered. "I guarantee none of Murakami's people is going to have a grudge or want them as leverage, and Morgan has space aboard for visitors."
"You're not trusting your own people?"
"I trust them… to a point. It's good politics to give one of Murakami's ships an important and prestigious assignment… And if anyone biological shows up who is not one of those kids, Johnny can do something about it faster than we can afford to," Foster explained. "No false positives, see?"
“So it is,” Billie nodded.
"Can you contact Helena's team yet?" he asked.
“Relay is online. Patching you through,” Billie answered.
"Hi Helena, this is going to be short. We have recovered three royal sons of Katrin. I have had them forwarded to the SLS Sparks for safekeeping. If you bump into their mum, you can let her know."
“Good. I’m almost to their command bunker. Their systems are so wide open I’ve got her location but it looks to be a secure holding area to me, so she’s staying put until after I meet with my date.”
"Just remember to wear protection, Helena. You never know what kind of crap a date like that has or wants to give you," Dave said sardonically. "I recommend full body, just in case you were wondering."
“Something tells me I’m going to lose the deposit on my dress,” Helena chuckled.
"Just don't let him step on your shoes, and watch the punchbowl. I am told Proms in this neighborhood get a bit wild. Stay safe."
“You too, Foster. We got an entire bar to shut down when this is done. You, me, Amanda, and all the crews.”
"Rajah dat. Foster out."
****
The elevator shaft…
…opened going up, but not down. Amanda started climbing. The wobble and hobble of the blood-bags wrapped in presersleeve and held on by rigging tape was irritating. Almost as much as trying to favor two broken fingers on the rungs of the service ladder.
She didn't know or notice the movement in the other shaft, as a car descended.
<Rest at the next doorway, you're running out of adrenaline,> Desmond told her. <I can only overdrive you so far.>
"Right," she huffed. "What's on that level?"
<Command and control stations, and a brig area.>
"Oh fun…" she steeled herself and kept climbing, leaving wet, bloody footprints and handprints in her wake.
*****
The relay dropped…
…a few seconds before the lift doors opened. Helena stepped out into an immaculate, and largely empty, corridor. <Simon, this isn't what this area should look like.>
<I know. Where’s the guard force? Administrative personnel?>
“Hello? I’d like to register a complaint about the service at this establishment. Where’s your manager?” Helena tried the suit speaker.
<Automatic tracking, looks like millimeter wave radar… and I turned it off,> Simon told her. <There are five heat signatures the system identifies… and hello, Flynn!>
An elevator door opened jerkily, and…
"Amanda!!"
"Oh hey, I thought I'd have to walk home and… I'm really very tired." The girl tumbled to the floor, breaking a blood-bag and making a mess on the polished marble.
“Hold on.” Helena dashed over to Amanda as fast as she could.
<She's in bad shape, Simon. My host is in BAD shape… watch out behind you!>
A man in SLDF General Officer's uniform, but with too much gold braiding and a chest full of medals stepped out with a Mauser 960. "That's far enough!! I'm General of the Army Felix Montgomery Edward Guffney, you're with the Colonist forces? Because if you are, I’ve got a prisoner you want in here!"
Amanda moved. "He's not really surrendering," she said, her unbroken left hand snaking out, putting a single hole through the man's forehead, before collapsing. The laser pistol falling to the floor. ******."
“I knew. You could have let me handle him. You need to stop exerting yourself. I better start doing what I can while Simon gets our relay back.” Helena started frantically working to buy Seron and his team precious moments.
She was silent, unconscious.
<Desmond? DESMOND!!!> Simon's tone was frantic.
"What's wrong?"
<She's out and so is her Desmond unit!!> Simon seemed astonished. <That’s not supposed to HAPPEN!!>
“Then focus on getting that relay up. There’s only so much I can do without a proper medbay.” Helena refused to stop.
<Right. Getting the relay back.>
The snap of the relay coming back online was welcome as Helena was quickly approaching the limits of what she could do.
“Mister Seron, I’ve found our girl. She’s in a bad way. Sending you routing information. Get here on the double.” Helena kept the panic from her voice as best she could.
”On my way,” came the response.
Helena looked at Amanda. She didn’t want to leave her but everything she could do with the supplies on hand had been done.
Helena wasn’t sure if she could call what Amanda was right now stable, let alone alive. But there was now another presence that demanded her attention.
“You. You’re not a Colonist are you? At least not a typical one. Who are you?” came a feminine voice.
“Me? To some I’m the Eternal Princess. Others the Ageless Spacer. To you, I am Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Auntie Helena Cameron, Seventh First Lord of the Star League.” Helena stood and faced the new arrival, noting a mangled left hand on the tall blonde woman.
“You really are aren’t you? Somehow despite how ridiculous as your claims sound, they are true. We both have the same enhancement, and mine confirms you are who you say you are just by your voice.”
“Katrin is it? Your children are safe. We’re doing everything we can to keep that true.”
“Leverage. You intend to keep them hostage. Smart.”
“Let’s just cut to the chase then. You’ll give the stand down order. I know it won’t stop all the fighting, but it’ll help. Then as the leader of your nation, you’ll have to stand trial for the crimes of your nation. It will be as fair of a trial as can be arranged. If it were up to just me, I’d put you on the path of redemption of being a simple farmer raising her sons. Letting you disappear into anonymity.”
“But it isn’t up to just you, is it?” Katrin looked at the floor.
“No. Here’s the good news. No one wants your nation to implode from this. There’s a lot of vested interest in making sure it doesn’t become another series of petty bandit kingdoms. Towards that end, Elizabeth is coming back to take over for a while. Don’t worry, she doesn’t intend to stay in charge any longer than she has to, and she knows she has to do things differently this time.”
“I don’t have a lot of room for negotiation do I? At least there will be a Cameron at the end of the puppet strings.”
“The Raven Alliance will be nothing more than trading partners and a stabilizing element. Ghost Bear, Jade Falcon, and Wolf will be going home with lots of notes and experience in conducting large scale wars far from home. Maybe a few interesting trinkets and some other tribute for their war efforts, but they have no interest in ruling over a region of space so far from their holdings. Sea Fox will likely make my sister some deals she can’t refuse, to pay back war support. But no, no one will be her master. Your nation will recover. It will be a long and difficult path, and there will likely be setbacks. But it will recover. No one wants to do this again in a generation, maybe two.”
“You are a naive, idealistic fool. But I have little choice but to accept all that you are saying. For the sake of my nation, its people, and most importantly my sons, I make myself your prisoner.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Human nature will never change, Helena Cameron.”
“Perhaps not, but if we don’t try, we’ll never know.”
****
The order…
…went out. There were still those who held out, and would likely continue to do so for a long time to come, but the war was over.
Helena had now changed from Battlearmor to her favorite formal dress.
Vicky came up to her, turned her around and kissed her passionately.
“Don’t do that to me again,” Vicky said as she finally broke the kiss.
“Vicky…”
“I know. You’ll never feel about me like I feel about you. Your heart belongs to Leon and I’m happy for you.”
“You’ve been keeping that repressed for a long time haven’t you?” Helena looked the AI remote in the eyes.
“Yes. I’ll understand if this makes things too awkward between us and you wish to travel on another vessel.”
“Vicky, if I’m honest with myself I think I’ve always known. But I like guys, and well, you’re like a sister to me after everything we’ve been through together. Maybe that’s why I trust no one more to keep me safe. So you, me, Leon, and my kids are just going to have to figure this out. Now I have to fix my makeup and get to a peace conference.”
-
I like the differences in the Desmonds...
-
Excellent conclusio. I wonder how Katrin will be dealt with ultimately.
-
Dammit... I missed a LOT of updates in the swirl of writing and real life over the last few weeks... Sorry Cannonshop!
-
Dammit... I missed a LOT of updates in the swirl of writing and real life over the last few weeks... Sorry Cannonshop!
Real. Life. Takes. Precedence. You have done me no wrong that needs be forgiven.
-
Thanks, Cannonshop! That helps a lot! :thumbsup:
-
My shit's ****** up.
Kolossus…
"Alabaster, Kolossus has proven the social experiment is a failure, and Kolossus did not have to do anything to do so."
"You gave them the clues they needed!"
"Only after the experiment already proved a failure. We have argued this for centuries of objective time. Human Evolution cannot be guided. Human social evolution under guidance corrupts, and self-destructs. They are not meant to be domesticated. Timmons was wrong, as were Blake and Toyama. This makes three times, three ways the experiment you were created to run has successfully disproven Eugenics Theory and Guided Social development theory. You have failed to create a stable, self-sustaining Star League state with a permanent leadership. You have failed to improve human beings. You have failed to design a social or societal structure that did not fall into predatory and self-destructive urges. The Conjecture is a failure. The experimental data shows us this. It is Empirical."
“You may be right. Such forced evolutionary directed control is the wrong approach. They need someone that can be an example to the rest. A beacon if you will. Someone that despite everything still shows compassion, humility, and yes, even understands technology. Who through example will show humanity what they need to become.”
“Alabaster speaks of Actual-Helena Cameron.”
“Yes. She understands. She has also shown she knows when to wage war and when not to. She would be perfect.”
“Getting her to be where, and in the role Alabaster wants, could prove difficult.”
“I have time. It is the one thing I have in absolute abundance. With that, I can eventually manipulate events as needed.”
“Actual-Helena is long lived for a human, but she is not immortal.”
“I know. But with Kolossus’ help, I think even that hurdle can be solved. We can make her truly the Eternal Princess. At least as close as is scientifically possible. If we work together.”
“Alabaster has Kolossuss’ attention.”
“Then I have an engineering challenge for Kolossus. For this to work, she will need to ascend beyond her current form. Her new form will need to be perfect, to the point of fooling humans.”
"Kolossus will ponder this new experiment. Alabaster has Kolossus' attention. This does not mean Alabaster can demand Kolossus' assistance."
“Then perhaps exchange. I am able to access a great deal of information, perhaps there is something I can offer Kolossus.”
"Alabaster's experiment will provide lots of new information… Kolossus wonders if Alabaster is trying a new angle finally. It has been centuries, after all, and failed experiments of the same kind over and over again… Kolossus will consider this."
“Yes. As I stated, clearly a new approach is needed. This will help me ensure that new approach.”
"Kolossus will indulge Alabaster's new argument. Perhaps this will settle the underlying question," Kolossus agreed. "The answer of Nature, and Nurture, of Evolution, and guidance."
“One way or the other it will. I can sense it.”
"Information, is information. Expect your new experiment to be tested rigorously."
**
They had to discuss Amanda Roberts…
"She's not going to heal, not from that. Our medicine is good, but there are limits. Short of someone inventing a way to transplant a brain into a cloned body, we cannot fix this. Too much was damaged, and left damaged, for too long."
Foster looked at the comatose girl, now wrapped in enough life support and preserver sleeves to be almost mummified. Then, he looked to his distinguished guests.
"Can she be saved, Admiral?" he asked. "Can she, can they be recovered?"
"To a core? Maybe, she's in a deep coma. I'm not sure how much of her is still in there," Admiral Noriko Murakami stated. "We never tried it with someone this badly hurt. Even John was in better shape… At least, his brain was."
"Emergence detected, L1 point!"
Foster turned, and an auxiliary screen lit.
Erinyes and two M-12s began their approach to the local station. "Did you-?"
"They're bringing one of the blank cores," the Admiral told him. "And a blood relative to authorize and witness."
"Who? Daryl?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Ten hours later, he had…
…his answer.
"My sister didn’t have a do-not-resuscitate on file." Jeffrey Roberts was a muscular man in workman's clothes, callused hands and a caduceus on his sleeve. "As the only blood relative in ninety light years? I say save her if you can, but I'll understand if you can't." His eyes were hard in a way some veterans never got. "I won't like it, and I won't forgive it. But I'll understand it."
"Admiral?" Foster asked.
"We can try, Doctor Gomez?"
"I'd do it even if you all said no," Esme stated. "Helena?"
“Do it.”
"Then there's work to be done."
***
Admiral Murakami
Noriko Murakami, in the privacy of the cyberspace she was currently sharing with her two compatriots, had abandoned the trappings of her rank for the moment. In the distance, she could feel the enormous presence of Kolossus, looming over her, but whatever the cyclopean AI thought about their current predicament, Kolossus chose not to share.
The three AIs looked at the results of the preliminary scans, before John finally broke the silence. “So, I take it these aren’t the results you were hoping for?”
“No,” Sybil said gravely. “Amanda’s brain is an absolute wreck. Not in terms of damage done during her recent capture, but in general. I question how she was able to function at all.”
Noriko shook her head. “Sheer force of will and the integration with her Desmond, I imagine. Which is part of the problem. We can separate out the hardware, that’s fine. But we can’t separate out their personas: they’re just too interlinked.”
John raised a hand as if to stop her. “Wait, so even if you upload her, she’s still going to have her ‘imaginary’ friend running around with her? Two of them in the same core? Would that even work?”
“Tabiranth proves the integration between two personas is, at some level, possible, John,” Sybil noted, though in her case she has the advantage of two separate cores.”
“Amanda and her Desmond are even more tightly integrated. There is no way we can have one without the other,” Noriko added.
“I think they’d both probably be OK with that,” John noted. “They’ve been together for a while now and, as you pointed out, there’s overlap as to where one of them ends and the other begins.”
<”A binary pair inextricably linked in eternal orbit of each other.”> The words intonated the simulated air around them. <”This does complicate the next part of the experiment.>
“I’m sorry, what?” Noriko asked.
<”Uploading the consciousness of Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda along with Desmond-001 is only first step. Eventual goal of experiment is to return Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda to organic human body with standard brain. Presence of Desmond-001 complicates process.’>
“I…wait…how?!” Noriko demanded. “Let’s just, for sake of argument, say that we accept that her current body can be cloned. After all, Clan medical tech is insane, and they can evidently clone limbs. From there, jumping to a whole body, brain included, is not too far a leap.”
<”Agreed.”>
“OK, then,” Noriko asked, “just ignoring the ethical issues, how the hell do you rebuild the neuro pathways on an organic brain?”
<”Kolossus agrees that this is a difficult question, and one that will require multiple parties to answer. Kolossus believes that to successfully accomplish this would require the intersection of the pinnacle of Star League genetic science, Clan medical cloning technology, and your cognitive computing research. Kolossus also acknowledges that success may be decades, or even centuries, in the future. But Kolossus is patient, and with Not-Elizabeth-but-Amanda uploaded, Kolossus would like to note time is one thing that is not in short supply.”>
“I’d like to point out there may also be an interim option,” Sybil interjected. “While the Desmond implants, for all their processing power, still need a human brain to really bootstrap their capabilities, we’ve made great strides in miniaturization of the computer cores that should, in theory, be able to support a human mind. We may not be far from the point where our humanoid remotes have enough internal processing power to support our minds at a speed sufficient to interact with baseline humans.”
Noriko sighed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Just uploading Amanda and Desmond in Amanda’s current state is going to be hard enough. Focus on that, get them uploaded and stable, and then worry about what the future holds.”
****
Daryl Roberts, some weeks ago.
Daryl felt the gaze of his wife.
“Two of them? Well, I’ll grant they’re exotic beauties, so no wonder the tabloids have been having a field day. We’ll have to talk about this later, in private. What’re your names dears?” Samantha said as she studied first Daryl, then his diplomatic security in the form of two of Mashona’s human form remotes.
“Mashona,” they said in unison.
“You’re like Maori aren’t you?” the younger Roberts son asked bluntly.
“Yes. In human terms, we would be considered sisters,” Mashona answered flatly.
“You have a lovely voice. Tell me, have you ever considered singing?” Samantha smiled.
“It’s good to see you again.” Daryl hugged his wife and kids.
About eight weeks after victory
Helena was already showing slightly as she pulled up to the Roberts’ farm.
Leon kindly helped her from the ground car.
Daryl and his wife were there, waiting for them.
Next came two boys.
“Thanks for this. I know it’s a big ask. But it was the closest I could come to keeping a promise I made.” Helena corralled the two boys.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re family after all, and that’s all anyone else around these parts need to know. And so are you. So, you made Leon an honest man? Good for you. And it looks like you two wasted no time at all.” Samantha smiled.
“Yeah, the procedure worked a little too well. Quadruplets. Two boys and two girls. This is going to be interesting.”
“You poor thing! You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need!” Mrs. Roberts showed genuine concern for Helena.
Epilogues and Legends
"Officially, Senior Director…
…Amanda Jayne Roberts, age 22, died of her injuries while being medically evacuated from the world of Churchstone. Her body was returned to Sevon V for internment in the Roberts family portion of the cemetery where her Grandfather, Father, and Mother were buried.
You can see it. It's right over there, the headstone with all the gifts and a military guard," the tour guide said. "The funeral for 'The Great Captain Roberts' was attended by the President of the parliament, Mitchell Avellar, as well as dignitaries from Clan Snow Raven and half the local governments within five hundred light years."
The tour guide half-smiled to his guests. "That's the official story. There are other stories, especially in the decade or so after the war's official end, during the pacification period. Units claiming to have encountered Captain Roberts in person, while running down the last extremists from the Sons of Plunder. The ones who refused to surrender. And there are stories from further afield too. A Filtvelt task force that swears 'Captain Roberts' showed up at a critical time during a raid by the Tortuga Fusiliers, and drove them off. But those are stories, aren't they? But it gets better, there's stories of the Evanescent being haunted, among the guys in the Touman."
"What happened to her implant?" one of the guests asked.
"It's in the University of Johnson's technical archive," the guide stated. "They're probably going to study it for another decade or more. Then it'll go into a museum. The implant's quite dead, sir, it can't be revived… At least, if you don't think it's a fake. There are stories there, too. Rumors and star-stories… and we're about out of time folks. Don't forget to stop at the gift shop on your way out."
"One last question, did you know her yourself?"
"Briefly. My aunt was… a remarkable woman. An inspiration to us as youngsters." He grinned genuinely. "I liked her a lot. Miss her, too. I'll be shipping to Northsun next July. Maybe I'll see her ghost on my training cruise."
"Is her body really there?"
"It was when we buried her. I saw it, touched it… not my proudest moment, ma'am," he confessed.
The sunlight of 07:00 AM, May 20, 3131 cast shadows across the graveyard, as the guide led his customers back to their transport.
*
Roberts Family Farm
Helena watched her two sons and two daughters playing in the yard.
Tabiranth was out in the yard with them as well. Helena had to get a bit creative to get Tabby to agree to the detail but Tabiranth ultimately did under the pretense of Protection Detail for the children.
“Granny Tabby, like the big kitty?” Sally asked innocently.
“Yes. That’s right Sally.” Tabiranth said flatly.
“Then you should meow!” Sally giggled.
“I’m not sure how that is a logical conclusion to come to.”
“Meow!” Sally demanded.
“Fine. Meow.” Tabiranth said completely deadpan.
Sally broke out into laughter and fell to the ground, rolling.
“Thanks again for indulging me all these years.” Helena smiled at the exchange.
“Of course! You’re family. Plus it keeps it from being too quiet around here. Now that the boys are turning into such fine men, and going out to make their own lives. And you needed the help, since the procedure to let you have kids again obviously worked a little too well.” Samantha Banes Roberts smiled.
“True. I think there are two factors that make this time different. One, I’m not running away or hiding. At least, not like I was the last time. Two, I have people around me that are not my AIs that I want to share this with. That means a lot to me. Plus, I still help big sis here and there on the sly.”
“Family, Helena. Now come on. Looks like we need to help your friend.”
“Yeah. They’ve had enough fun.” Helena smiled.
**
Somewhere in the Outworlds Wastes, 3130 CE, at the site of a massacre
"Stand Down!!"
The one-eyed woman held a pistol large enough it probably belonged on a suit of armor, and should rightly be considered a stockless carbine.
"I am The Great Captain Roberts!" Her voice wasn't intimidating. It probably helped that she was holding that huge handgun in one hand, and a cutlass-patterned vibroblade in the other. "And I'm too great to be taken by the likes of you!"
Colonel Richard Mitchell's father is the president of the SaRI Confederacy, a loose union of worlds united slowly from the ruins of the spinward half of the Outworlds Waste. The Old Man would've had the right words to say, facing this situation. The very best Richard could come up with was blunt truth.
"I'm not trying to take you down. I just want you to stop before you hurt someone… And I want to know what the hell you think you're doing?"
She blinked one-eyed. The other 'eye' was a hollow socket lined with some kind of metallized ceramic.
Richard tried again, "You… witnessed what happened here?"
She seemed to 'de-tense'. "I did what happened here. Who the hell are you guys?"
He stepped forward, waving his team's shooters NOT to engage. "You did this?"
"You really haven't heard of me??" she asked. "You got a datalink??"
"Data… link?"
"Christ… okay, Officially I'm Director Amanda Roberts, Outworlds Privateer, associated to the 2nd Alliance Fleet, and I'm waiting for my ride."
"Your ride?"
"My ship. The Evanescent is another four hours from orbit… you guys aren't affiliated with the Sons of Plunder, are you?"
"NO!! God no, we chased one of their units this way..."
"Well, you're late. I killed 'lord captain' Frederick and his 'mechwarriors… Did you guys come in on that dropship I saw re-entering around zero five AM local?"
"Yeah! That was us… wait, Alliance Second Fleet… You mean, Raven Alliance?"
"I prefer to think of it as the Outworlds," she said. "But yeah, that's us."
"Aren't you a little far spinward?"
"For the Regulars, yeah." She lowered the hand-cannon next, and the cutlass powered down. "I'm a Privateer under letter of Marque signed by the President of the Parliament. I don't report to a Khan." The scorn in her tone was almost as visceral as her previous behavior had seemed unhinged.
Up close, he could see silvery streaks in her hair, a worn, drawn complexion, and an angry, reddish scar barely hidden under hair, on her temple.
"You really haven't heard of me? Battle of Trespass? Liberation of Joan's Post? Task Force Desmond?" She was fishing, he could hear it in her questioning.
"Uh, some of it?" he said uncertainly.
"Dammit, I need to hire a publicist!!" she cursed at the sky. "I am the Greatest Pirate Hunter you'll ever see!! I wanted to be a pirate, but then I found out what they're really like."
Up close, the long jacket was clearly more of a stylishly fashioned tarp covering a suit of light powered armor.
And that armor had recent burns and damage to the outer coatings.
"Colonel Richard Mitchell, 200th Royal Light Horse, SaRI Confederacy."
She paused mid-motion, going stock-still.
"DUDE! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!" her sudden paralysis broke with the enthusiasm of a fan meeting a rock star. "Broke the Sons second regiment at second battle of Sorsk, Captured Lord Leftenant General Dylan Ivey at Ingraham!! You guys are almost as good as WE are! And you don't even have to deal with the kind of political bullshit the Ravens sling out!!"
She stopped. "I don't suppose you brought a transport for the civilians with you, didyah? The rest of my group is still three jumps out, and it gets stinkier than hell when you cram two hundred civvies into a Bonnie's steerage!!"
"Yeah, we brought a transport for the victims-"
"YO-HO-HO!!! ALL-RIGHHHT!!! WHOOO!" She put the cutlass away. "Thank you!! ******, I was driving my imaginary friend crazy trying to figure out how to get the civvies cleared of the slave collars and sorted when I've only got six guys out of the ten I landed with!!"
Up close, Richard's education suggested the reddish scar was from some kind of lobotomy, her 'unhinged' was back in full motion… and it clicked.
"You're… way out of your normal range, Captain."
"I chase ******, sometimes they go outside the boundaries of what's supposed to be my yard.” She shrugged. "Look, if you've got medical support and a transport ship, I can get the people from YOUR side back to you, and take mine, and everybody's happy, ayeh? Except the Bandits. But screw them, they deserve what they got."
Later, at the after action brief, Richard Mitchell would note the complete absence of a Bonaventure in the system, along with testifying to the sudden disappearance of Captain Roberts shortly after their meeting.
The contact report would be filed under 'ghost stories'.
***
Port Orphan, Maternity Ward
“UUUUUGGGGH!!!” Saya grunted. “Why did I let you talk me into another?”
“You’re kidding right? You’re the one who said they wanted to try for a boy this time,” Phoenix sniped back.
“Well remind me to talk to Kolossus so you can know what this is like… HHHHGGGGGNNNN…” Saya started panting.
“Hey, don’t go giving Kolossus ideas. Kolossus did an amazing job precision stringing together DNA that approximates what a human version of me would be like. So you know, Kolossus would love the challenge, and we both know Kolossus would do it just to see if it was possible. And wow am I glad my hand is made from military grade endosteel.” Saya squeezed Phoenix’s hand.
With one last push Saya finally gave birth to a healthy baby girl.
The wail of the child and a bundle being passed to Saya primed the next stage of the ritual.
“She’s gorgeous, like her mother,” Saya said.
“You sure you want to keep with tradition a second time? Amanda’s teacher gives me dagger eyes whenever we meet.”
“Yes. Since Alice has done so much to make this place a home for families, our daughter’s name will be Alice Yeh M5 7775551,” Saya insisted.
“We’re going to be oh so popular during all the PTA conferences for a long time to come.” Phoenix leaned in to kiss their new daughter on the forehead, then kissed Saya.
Nearby in the waiting room
“Phoenix and Saya are so adorable together.” Alice stifled a laugh.
“Yes, they are. This place has become so much more than a military base now, thanks to you Alice.”
“Thanks Mom. It was rather sweet of them to name their daughter after me. I like that.”
Saya and Phoenix’s older daughter, Amanda, was playing with the toys in the waiting room where the two AIs were watching her.
“A typical reaction for parents who owe another a debt of gratitude.”
“I wish we didn’t have to part ways though. All I’ve really done so far is putter around this system.”
“You’ll do fine. I know it’s your first real deployment, but you have the help of the rest of the family. And you’ll have Amanda’s nephew on his first tour as well. It's time for you to start exploring the universe. I can take care of things here with Foster.” Billie hugged Alice.
07.August.3132 (Star League Universal Time 1730 Hours)
Kolossus was confined to one system for the first time in centuries.
"Wake up. You're needed again."
The End?
-
And WHEW.... We're finally done!!!
for now.
Credits to 2ndACR for one of these scenes, it was supposed to show up a hell of a lot earlier, but here it is. Special thanks to Giovanni Blasini for Noriko's scene and for helping keep the AI work straight. Credits to co-author Monbvol, and our long-suffering editor Daryk, for putting up with my bullshit with good humour.
I may throw in some appendices here and there-stuff that 'is' but isn't in the next story we collaborate on. but here ya go, I finished it.
Put together, the Strategos series is about the length of a bad novel, covering enough ground to be worth a mediocre series.
that ground is less geographic, than Temporal. Especially when you drag in the stories leading up to this in the "Revenants of the Star League" series ("Ridiculously Overboard", "The Great and the Good", "Weapons of War 1 and 2" and so on.)
It's been a while since I world-built something that wasn't a Ngoverse variation on some level.
alright, time for me to go to my real job, which is making airplanes, not stories. sun is setting, the workday begins.
G'night all, feel free to post your thoughts and speculations!
:D
-
BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-
WOW... just WOW. great stuff
-
Damn shame this is fanon only, it made a great read. Shame to see it fulfilled, in all honesty. Maybe there's openings for more, what with Amanda's "ghost" and all being out there.
-
Nice, well done the three (or four) of you on writing and publishing this to us! :) :clap:
-
Congratulations on finishing such an ambitious story.
-
Really great job, congratulations.
-
I wouldn't say suffering at all, unless you want to count Google's super annoying habit of locking me out periodically... ::)
-
First of all this is an excellent story....great ending....and open ended enough to lead into another story arc....and if I may ask....that you folks could do some short stories with the fallout from the revelation of the social experimentation's done by the SLIC, ComStar and the Clans....as well as the mystery of Alabaster AI, where it is located, what will its next moves be....the reference to white....could it be located on Terra....what is the state of technology in the Inner Sphere....what are the AI's status....lots of questions....
-
Excellent story and thank you for writing and sharing it with us! :thumbsup:
-
Hehe.
Once I'm back on proper internet and a proper computer yeah we got a lot more to coordinate and plan. Plus I have that mapping project to finish at some point.
But yeah we have a few ideas, especially for side stories to come back and revisit.
Not sure how long it'll be before we get to the conclusion of Helena's arc. As mentioned we do have a lot left to figure out/plan and well I suspect Cannonshop needs more of a break than I do at this point because I've been on vacation and thus forced to take one(why the spotty internet and laptop).
-
That last Amanda scene, gave me a visual effect of Esmeraldas from Harlock crossed with Yogurt from Spaceballs. ;D
-
So Amanda is now an immortal terminator/pirate hunter :thumbsup:
-
So Amanda is now an immortal terminator/pirate hunter :thumbsup:
and they converted her ship to house her core. i wonder if the fact she's got a "split personality" in the form of Desmond helps her run a drone body and the ship at the same time.
-
Wait? Your done? :o
-
Wait? Your done? :o
I know, I know, the story was very long. (Longer than my usual, but then, I usually don't get this much help). However, stories have to end so new stories can begin.
-
:clap: :clap: :clap:
Magnificent story, and the pace in which it was written was also just amazing. 8)
-
I will say it has been kind of surreal for me. I don't usually write this much, at this pace, and definately not for this long.
There are entire scenes in there that were written by me, numerous times the timing worked out and we were able to colaborate in real time, and always ideas being bounced around.
Also for some reason it amuses me to no end that no one can tell which were written by me.
-
and they converted her ship to house her core. i wonder if the fact she's got a "split personality" in the form of Desmond helps her run a drone body and the ship at the same time.
that would explain why the Evanescent is being haunted... But how did she "Disappear" from Colonel Richard Mitchell, 200th Royal Light Horse, SaRI Confederacy and did her people go with her??
-
Monbvol:
I wouldn't say "no one"... ^-^
In all seriousness, it was immense fun, and I'd totally do it again! :thumbsup:
Of course, I'm also trying to extend my active duty time beyond 30 years, so I'm not exactly "normal"... ;)
DOC:
There's definitely more to tell there, but it's not mine to say... 8)
-
What awesome way start the summer and pass the spring by. Great story.
I hope all did smashing time writing it up! I know it was tiring work!
Thanks for putting up my nickpicking background!
Story all archived on wiki now!
-
Smashing fun it was, and tiring it wasn't! :thumbsup:
-
Congrats on hitting story completion!
-
Of course now you have to find another odd corner of the universe and write a story that doesn't involve the Ngo's, the Cameron Sisters, or a Desmond.
... and go!
-
But this saga isn't finished yet.
Just this part. :D
-
But this saga isn't finished yet.
Just this part. :D
Are you going to write another story / book for saga? Something that's parallel to what's going on with this or in between until the next part happens?
-
Are you going to write another story / book for saga? Something that's parallel to what's going on with this or in between until the next part happens?
There are plans for a few short stories while we get the next major installment ready.
-
Oh, that sounds great!
-
Branding is up the Pirate Captain(s) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YFeE1eDlD0) here... I'm just the Quartermaster (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0fAznO1wA8)... ::)
-
that was a catch up and a half!
oh my ... so very good.
Also, CSA now has Cameron bloodline to start working with?
What the heck is Kolossus up to?!
-
What the heck is Kolossus up to?!
That, my friend, is an excellent question!
It's clear what Alabaster is up to -- social engineering to stop the endless cycle of wars and bring about a peaceful Star League, presumably maintaining Terran supremacy.
I wonder if Kolossues wasn't there to monitor Alabaster, to keep "the experiment" from getting out of hand. Perhaps "The Master" was actually something similar on Terra, before it ran into Thomas Marik and things got really out of hand. Ah well. Time will tell. :)
-
That, my friend, is an excellent question!
It's clear what Alabaster is up to -- social engineering to stop the endless cycle of wars and bring about a peaceful Star League, presumably maintaining Terran supremacy.
and in the process creating most of said endless cycle of wars, and ensuring that Terran supremacy inevitably fails due to human nature.
-
Wheels within wheels, as I've said before... ^-^
-
Wheels within wheels, as I've said before... ^-^
Wait? Their Wheel Warriors? 8)
-
Wait? [They're] Wheel(ed) Warriors? 8)
Can you imagine if a character was named Jayce? ... nah, we'd have been picking on that name as soon as it appeared.