"The Great Captain Roberts Adventures!!" Strategos, Part Two.

[Wolf72]

And I'm beginning to get REALLY curious about Dave Foster's backstory ...

I'm guessing exceptionally competent and pragmatic ... somehow also willing to take risks that payoff.  While admirable from overall strategic sense, not much of a glory hound ... kind of a competency hound.  Def not a James T. Kirk, but respected by those in the know of such things.  He did earn a bloodname, probably without to much flash and pomp.

[idea weenie]

Very fun story going on, with the twists, turns, and politics.  Even if the Sons of Plunder have other Jumpships available to keep transportation going, losing all six of the Jumpships will still be a nasty blow for them to recover from.

Looking forward to the next chapter

[glitterboy2098]

iirc they've already lost 2-3 during previous installments of the story, another 6 should be a fairly hefty blow.

[Daryk]

I think six in one blow would make even a Successor State sit up and take notice...  ^-^

[Cannonshop]

[out of story]

Okay, folks, the following segment was written under a previous interpretation of  the game rules revolving around KF fields and operations, that has since been retconned, making the move literally impossible and making the documented maneuver also suicidally impossible.  (the entry for said maneuver in the 2750 TRO, if you did it, with the ships in question, would destroy both vessels under the current revision in Strat Ops.)

guess what?

Yeah, we're going old-school because the rewrite hasn't worked.

[/out of story]

[Cannonshop]

Raise The Jolie Rouge

In Space, it's…

…all about time, timing, and distance.  It takes days to get anywhere at sublight speeds, sometimes, it takes weeks or months.

But, with a can of spray paint, a good stopwatch, and decent charts, you can get anywhere in a solar system… eventually.

Imagine the following scenario: at the Zenith point, are two Star Lord class jumpships, and two Invader class.  The pairs are positioned for serial release into hyperspace as soon as their landing craft (DropShips) are docked.

Each Invader has a Leopard CV docked to their forwardmost docking collar, with two fighters from each flying in tandem with the fighters based on the JumpShip itself, with a ready pair in the launch bays, and the third in stand-down.

They are, after all, in a friendly port, with the ability to call for help from the system's garrison.

The Star Lord class ships are mostly bare of dropships, their six collars mostly emptied, their landing ships being still two or three day's transit from the Agrodomes on the fourth planet in the Michtal system.

However, 'mostly' is just that…mostly.  One collar each is also holding a Leopard CV, then the other two forward-most collars are holding heavily armed assault dropships, suitable for escort work.

These also have fighter bays, but no more than two fighters per Star Lord are actually patrolling, thanks to the complements from their smaller brethren.

This is a formation that would be considered quite excellent for most navies in the Inner Sphere after the Second Succession War, and even right into the present.

It is a formidable force.

Especially in a relatively secure port environment in a relatively secured system, one that has not received an external visitor since sometime in the 2880s.

The crews feel safe, or at least, safe enough.  News of ill fortune wasn't so much concealed, as it was simply distant to these men and women.  Something bad that happened somewhere else, to someone else, and that someone else was getting a punitive expedition via Essex II class destroyer.

Word on the fate of SLS Lynnwood has not reached Michtal base, and the presumed silence and lack of a call for reinforcements was simply interpreted as being that the Lynnwood has not yet run down her prey.

After all, who could possibly have the kind of forces that could stand against the Star League's finest technology?

Not everyone is complacent.

Lord Lieutenant Carver Inslee IX had a bad feeling.  His uncle, commanding SLS Lynnwood had not returned and was a week late.  Comms silence rules had been in effect since last month, so calling him wasn’t an option.

"Run the drill again," he ordered his commander of the air group.  "This time, like you mean it."

His extra pinky was throbbing where it had been cut off to fit his suit gloves.  Trouble was on the way, and soon, he could feel it.

The first confirmation was having his CIC flicker under the assault of an EMP.  "EMERGENCE WAVE!! Marines to Stations NOW!!"  his palm slammed the shipwide alert button.  It might be interpreted later as panic, but in this moment, Carver was moving on an absolute certainty he could not fully describe.

**

Britney's stick went…

…dead as the EMP from a close-range emergence wave from something big hit Salacious Sally and flickered the avionics.  She frantically hit toggles to reboot and restart the fighter's systems, while also frantically looking for her wingman, Jheri, whose Ironsides was supposed to only be a few kilometers off her port wing.  "What the hell…what the hell.."

She could see his running lights flickering to come back on, and the intermittent puffs of mixed helium and hydrogen from his engine trying a hot-restart.

Shit, shit shit!!

Her stick might as well be a gamer's joystick with the leads cut.  "Come on…come on…"

She glanced out her canopy and saw Jheri in Four was six kilometers more-or-less closer than he had been.  "Come on..."

The temp gauge was still climbing.  She pulled the emergency flush-shoving liquid hydrogen into the PDU bays to flash-cool the heat sinks, then beginning the hot restart over again without forty minutes of fuel she'd had to waste cooling the systems back down.

Her radio was blasting jamming noises on all channels.

"GAWD DAMMIT!!!" an error message scrolled on her HUD.

Then, she felt the familiar shove as her main thruster ignited, and her stick inputs started getting responses from the RCS thrusters.

She let out a whoop as she angled her vector positive Z axis, and Jheri's stricken bird passed less than a meter below her ventral.

Where is that sumbitch?

She didn't have far to look, the bulk of a warship…not one of ours!!...and the incandescent flames of shuttles and fighters launching from it, at Her ship!!  "Oh the ****** you will!!" she banked hard starboard and poured the fuel into the afterburner.

[paulobrito]

Entering in 'interesting times', bored see the door.

[Nikas_Zekeval]

His extra pinky was throbbing where it had been cut off to fit his suit gloves.  Trouble was on the way, and soon, he could feel it.

So the SoPs can't even make a custom set of new gloves, or at least are stuck copying designs of gear made before the mutiny?

[mikecj]

Or its a social thing.  After all, the six-fingered man has gotten a bad rap through history despite his contributions to the science of longevity.

[Luciora]

Or as a constant reminder of his failure.  Phantom limb syndrome is a very interesting condition.

So the SoPs can't even make a custom set of new gloves, or at least are stuck copying designs of gear made before the mutiny?

[Daryk]

There are multiple ways to have six fingers, most of which involve non-functional extra small fingers or thumbs.  The rarest way is how you get a real bonus: central polydactyly with a fully functional extra finger.  They've only done fMRI on two people with them, but in those two found no less control of the extra finger than the rest, and it even appears they can do things with one hand the rest of us need two to do.  Those are the people that get custom gloves...  8)

[DOC_Agren]

Knock Knock...  Anyone home?? 

[Cannonshop]

Rise up me hearties yo-ho

"What the ****** was…
…that??"

"Couple enemy fighters were near the edge of our emergence, Sir." 

Foster cursed more, "Status!!"

"Engineering reports no damage to the KF core, brownouts in portside forward are just tripped breakers, we'll have guns up soon."

"Roll starboard toward them, I don't like our point defenses blind," Dave ordered.  "Marines ready?"

"Ready and away."

"Launch fighters as we roll, CAG, we're losing surprise every second."

***

"Illusive is streaming…

…vapor trails portside fore, and she's missing some of her gun mounts and armor, Captain,"  Sam reported.  "There must've been debris in the emergence zone."

Shit. Shit shit shit.  "Bedwyr, once our fighters are out of the barn I want the reserve wing prepped and launching," Amanda instructed.  "Divert four of our heavies from the target to cover Illusive's flank."

"Ma'am, they  have-"

"They have a damned good reason to be pulling back and they aren't,"  she scowled.  "Probably the DC sensors were sheared with those weapons mounts, so they don't yet know, but it's-"

"A bad idea, ma'am," Larry spoke up gently.  "Lori, inform the Illusive they're jump-sheared. Fleet Captain Foster knows full well what to do in this situation."

Amanda bit her lip, "Right… ******.  I almost screwed up didn't I?"

"You're still learning," Larry reminded her.  "A Captain can't be expected to be omniscient, I'm just presenting options."

"Ready the secondaries anyway, Bedwyr," she said.  "But yeah, stick to the original plan for now."

"Aye ma'am."

"We're going to be lower on firepower from this," Amanda noted.  "Across the whole operation, and we probably have casualties already from that."

"The gun-mounts in that section have trained crew," Larry reminded her.  "If they paid attention and weren't killed by the shearing, they'll be alright."

"Your word to god's ear…"

It was a foul omen though.  A mistake in an operation with little room for mistakes.   "Mister Samuel, bring us to a closing trajectory on our targets, maintain formation with our fighters and small craft on the approach, ninety seconds back."

"Aye mum."

She turned to Larry, "Gunnery sections?"

"We're all green, and all stations reporting in," he told her.

"Rig for open battle, helmets down and drop press," she recited.  "We'll restock when we take their damn station, in the meantime, I don't want fires or shockwaves from being hit.  All outer decks, condition Three."

She raised, settled, and sealed her own helmet as she spoke.  "Time?" Larry asked.

"Alert the crew they have five minutes before they need to be bottled on the emergency conduits or suffocating," she stated.

It actually took the crew only one and a half to go from ready to sealed.  The ship's innate noises stopped as the atmosphere either vented out, or filled reserve tanks that could be blown without blowing the hull out behind blowout panels on the aft quarter.

Hoses linked, and the orderly quiet of intersuit channels replaced the sound of random voices in the CIC.

"Engineer, stand to all DC parties ready for action," she ordered.  "CAG…you know what to do."

In her mind, diagrams of the battlespace filled in as information from the ship's sensors and systems scrolled through her vision, giving a sense of the battlespace in Augmented Reality overlay.

Including the damage to the technical 'flag' for the operation, OWS Illusive.

Even two years ago, Amanda would've had trouble parsing it with her conscious, meat-based mind, but as of the present, everything was crisp, she could grasp it.

The protomech pilots from Kappa would understand the expanded situational awareness, how it feels, but their implants didn't include damaging cuts to the punishment/reward centers, she felt no euphoria, just cold calm and placid focus.

"Miss Lori, broadcast on Hailing channels, Jolie Rouge, yo ho," she said.

Jolie Rouge, the 'Pretty red' or 'Jolly Roger'.  The classical, historic act, announcing that quarter would not be given, nor asked.  Derived from age-of-sail piracy in the Caribbean Seas, coined for the original flag's red, not black, coloration by french speaking privateers in the innumerable wars of the spanish succession, adopted by anglophone and hispanic privateers, buccaneers, and Pirates.

"Identification?" Lori asked.

"Insert text, 'I am the great, DREAD pirate Roberts, those who are here, will not be here. Your doom is at hand, for I am the Greatest Pirate you will ever see…and I have come for your souls.'  set on repeat."

"Psyops?"

"Psyops."

"You screwed up the quote."

"I know," Amanda said.  "But maybe they'll give me points for originality.  Let's cut their throats, yo-ho… Mister Nichols, are we in main gun range?"

"Just barely."

"Well…engage! Try not to hit our own craft.  Set point defenses to 'goalkeeper’ range."

****

"Not the most…

…graceful Batchall I have ever heard, but then, this enemy is exceedingly dezgra," Star Captain Wlhemina Seigel chuckled.  "Foster should put more effort into influencing that girl, her take on classical literature is atrocious and overblown."
"Fighter wings away, Ovkhan, boarding shuttles will be launching in one minute."

She sighed, "We need to do more drills."  Her comment came with a shake of her head.

*****

The intended…

…effect was achieved.  The enemy got the challenge, got the arrival of not one, but two warships with fighters out, and decided the one making the threats was the leader and needed to be knocked out first.

After all, warships belong to navies, and senior officers are the ones making bold announcements, so knock out the leader and the rest are easier to take down.

This was entirely wrong on nearly every front… But it also distracted the defenders at the jump point from recognizing that one of the two corvettes was already heavily damaged, and it wasn't the one making bold announcements about reaping souls.

In nearly every particular, the Harvest and Garrison forces in the system, were both well prepared, and totally unprepared.  They reacted to this enemy, the way they had to every drill they bothered to remember or attend-most of which, were influenced by leaders and lords interested in getting the damned thing over with, instead of learning useful lessons.

In the darkness of the jump points, pinprick flames of fighter craft flew into the merge, and in the silence of interplanetary space, they burst in bright flashes as lives ended, while small craft bearing the assault element slid past…

[Daryk]

It seems to be pretty easy to push the Sons' buttons...  ^-^

[Wrangler]

You got love ambushes by a Combat Air Patrol when you're arriving.  Keeps young trainee pirates on their toes!

[nerd]

YARR ME HEARTIES!

Or is going for Long John Silver crossing the streams?

[DragonKhan55]

We are going to need lots of prize crews...

[Cannonshop]

Potter's Field

Not all the…

…rescued from Devil's Breath were recovering. 

“Don’t fret too much my dear.  You know I have a son that will come of age soon.  For a few days you’ll be my special guest.  Then I’ll send you away from all this ugliness to a special school that will prepare you for your new role,”  her tormentor smiled, creasing his overweight features grotesquely.

She felt hands and screamed.

She was alone.  Breathing fast, and alone… not alone.  "You're going to be okay, miss." 

"They left me," she sobbed.

"Bad memories?"  Dr. Huntington was a slight figured woman, dark hair over permanently tanned skin that wasn't quite dark enough to suggest African ancestry. 

"Yes," she said.

"I don't suppose those bad memories came with your name?"  the psychiatrist asked.

Her patient was pale and fine-boned, and Dr. Peregrine Huntington knew her patient had  an identity, which is why she was here in a Snow Raven military medical center, instead of the General Hospital or a mental institution.

"No, I'm sorry doctor," the patient lied.

"They held you there for a long time, I understand," the doctor placated.  "It's zero three, would you like to eat something?"

"Please."

**

In normal combat operations…

…according to the book, at least, the CIC would be drowned in the sound of damage alarms.  "Bring us about forty degrees port, cut accel by twenty percent, and roll the hull."  Foster ordered.

A check on the battle network showed that Evanescent was still pulling the bulk of the enemy's fighters.  It also showed that whatever Captain Roberts had intended, she'd been forced to change her plan.  A trail of superheated metal along one of the enemy Merchant class showed where she'd engaged in some long-distance sabotage by way of Naval Laser applied to helium tankage.  Probably overkill, but it left the targeted vessel without the ability to cool their core without major rework.

"Engage the dropships as we bear with subcapital weapons," he ordered.  "CAG, do what you need to to keep their strike fighters off us."

"Aye sir."

***

It had been decades since…

…anyone had even attempted a fleet engagement, or so it seemed.  Except since the Roberts girl turned up, it's been something more like three times in two years, where such engagements had been once or twice in a decade before that for the longest time.

Wilhelmina Siegel was enjoying this entirely too much, despite it being really nothing more than a rather large-scale and extensive series of boarding actions.

"Boarding teams on target five report they have secured engineering, CIC, and critical functions."

"Excellent, inform Point Commander Ahmed to carry out phase two immediately, all fighters fall in on target six."

On telescope, she could see the atmosphere vent from the Invader class jumpship.  Rules of Engagement were 'Jolie Rouge'.  No quarter. 

They didn't have anywhere to PUT prisoners.

"Escape pods are launching from that crippled CV."

"Leave them.  Focus on active combat assets and the targets," she ordered.  There are some orders I will not give, and engaging escape pods is one of them.

****

The Mark VII…

…barely nudged as it force-docked to the hull of the enemy Star Lord class.  The rear hatch lifted, freeing the breaching team to rush up and place the 'doormaker kit' on the enemy's hull, arm it, and fall back inside, the hatch closing to put an armored barrier between the soon-to-exist hole in the enemy's pressure envelope.

"Three…two…one…"

Seron squeezed the clacker, and the blastex did what blastex, arranged that way, does, cutting an ovoid shape with the assistance of a parathermite burn pushed by a shaped charge.

A hole was cut into the enemy's hull, and pushed free by internal pressure.

The hatch reopened, and he led his team straight into the soon-to-be abattoir of the enemy's command section.

Unarmored people were struggling in sudden vacuum, he finished a few with pulses from his Mauser, and shredded a man who was unpacking the survival beachballs.

"First squad, movement by pairs to the CIC deck, Second squad, take the engineering section.  Jolie Rouge rules-kill anyone who looks like the enemy and is still alive."

The boarding action turned into a blind-sided slaughter in short order.

*****

Pangs of…

…conscience were just an indicator data point that said they were being especially effective.

"Continue in point defense mode with all non-capital weapons.  Gunnery, there is an enemy assault dropship out there, looks like a Pentagon.  I want it Penta-Gone,"  Captain Roberts ordered.

"Mister Seron reports securing Target One."

"Stage Two," she said.  "CAG, gloves off."

"Aye mum," Mister Bedwyr nodded. He'd hoped for this.  His homeworld of Northsun had been preyed on, and he'd seen now several worlds that had it worse thanks to these bastards.  "Stage Two."

Fighters with cleared racks, turned to engage enemy escape pods, life boats, and enemy fighters that were out of fuel.

The Clans call it "Annihilation".

Bedwyr termed it something else.  Justice.

"Targets Two and Three report secured."

Amanda Roberts smiled.  "Good.  Stage Two."

We don't have anywhere to keep prisoners.  But it was still bothering her.
<It always feels like that, Amanda.>  Desmond contributed.  <It means we can still be affected by the horrible things we have to do in carrying out our duties.  My first host lacked the ability to feel that distress.>

"Targets One through Four report ready for jump, Captain," Lori announced.

"Inform our prize crews that they're free to do so, as soon as we've recovered fighters and any nonessential complement."

"Aye mum."

[center[****[/center]

"Target Six is active, neutrino count's through…

…the roof, they're trying to jump out!"

"Pull our guys out!!" Foster ordered.  The Invader was just going to have to get away.  "Put holes in their Helium tank."

"Sir?"

"They can jump out, I do not want them to be able to leave wherever they think they are going."

He smiled slowly, "Also, gunnery, draw a pattern bombardment centered on the number two docking ring on that Invader using subcapital cannons."

"Sir?"

"I always wondered if a misjump could be forced on another ship, and what it might do.  These guys seem to deserve it."  He smiled a predator's grimace.

"Aye sir.  Firing pattern bombardment."

***

"Drive has a full…

…charge, sir!"

Carver Inslee saw his escort ships being cut to pieces, and already, frantic panic and reports from the rest of the Harvest fleet were letting him know that these enemies had highly competent boarding teams and zero mercy or decency.
"Initiate, set for Grankum," he ordered.  Someone had to bring warning that this Dread Pirate Roberts was coming.

The jump initiated, the hull shook with shocks.  Oh god… the alarm from the KF drive board sounded.

[Discontinuity]

Existence was awash in colorless fire and he was being torn apart-forever.

**

She sat…

...down in the hospital cafeteria with a stainless steel tray and polished stainless steel utensils.  The food in front of her included brown, rich meat in gravy, with mashed potatoes and butter sauteed greens.

It smelled good.  It smelled like safety.  Elizabeth Cameron dug into her midnight rations, as soldiers of this 'Raven Alliance' and a few mobile patients came in or left.

They left me behind.

It was better than the mint jello.

[Daryk]

Elizabeth has entered the building!  :D

[Artifex]

Hoooooooooooraaaaaaaaaaayyyy, we have the true, real Cameron heir in our grasps now! Wonder though, is it a descendant, or is she the timeless variant? :D 8)

[Daryk]

Only one person really knows for sure...  ^-^

[Wolf72]

oof, no mercy means no mercy.  I would be with the SR Captain, but also understand where the others are coming from.

[Giovanni Blasini]

The Ravens are going to shit bricks when they realize.

[DOC_Agren]

Hoooooooooooraaaaaaaaaaayyyy, we have the true, real Cameron heir in our grasps now! Wonder though, is it a descendant, or is she the timeless variant? :D 8)

my guess is she might be a clone..  that the keep

[Wrangler]

ahh...question is where she came from.  its bit of jumble. How can she be heir?  She in stasis chamber or something or she one of the Sons of Plunder people?

[Daryk]

All will be made clear... in time...  8)

[Cannonshop]

Taking a Breath

Erin listened as…

…the prize ships began to arrive in the Johnson system.  Most of them would require servicing to make ready for the trip to Quatre Belle for auction.

In the interim, Erinyes had not only the tech support for the base staff, and much of the Cluster's equipment and support staff, but also a contingent of stand-by personnel ready to trade crews with the prize crews. 

"You understand, Mister Cohn, how this works?"  Erin spoke to the biological officer.

"We trade off manning on the vessels for the trip to Quatre Belle yards," Phil Cohn sighed.  "Don't worry, there won't be a scratch on them when they get to the auction block."

MOST of those JumpShips would be purchased by Clan Snow Raven, then refitted and equipped and seconded back to the Privateers as support for patrol DropShips, or shifted to local defense militia.

But the two Star Lord class would likely be bought straight into the Touman as support ships for the main fleet.

Erin had no illusions here-the 'shifting of money from one department to another' was for the public's benefit, the Privateer Fleet had to seem self-sustaining to comply with both foreign treaties, and current sensibilities among the Parliament.

A further proof being that while the 'ferry crews' were technically civilians, they were all and sundry filled with a mix of Merchant Caste clanners and OMC regulars on 'detached reserve status' overseen by Clan Watch officers.

Some of those "Merchant caste'' and "Technician caste” were effectively redressed Warriors of Clan Snow Raven from deactivated ships currently in mothball.

Conveniently, she could at least trust them not to jump the ships into a singularity or something absurd like that.

"All hands prepare the maintenance bay for the arrival of our first customer," Erin announced.  "We'll be meeting them in two days.  I am activating guest accommodations on the Gravity Wheel, stewards are to assure quarters are properly clean and ready for habitation.  That is all."

Erin observed her own crewmen rushing to prepare the repair bays and quarters for her temporary guests.  "Mister Ellis, get me a headcount on each arriving vessel, including possible wounded and those with pending shore leaves who might want to spend their waiting time on the surface."

"Aye mum."  George Ellis  got the XO job on the Erinyes through an interview-out of dozens of candidates, he'd been the one who spoke to the ship as if she was a person, rather than asking for overrides.

It almost made up for his habit of treating people like equipment in his secondary position as the 'yard boss' for her maintenance group.

**

"Form up…

…we have a week to prep for the enemy station, and they're going to be a lot more ready than this bunch was."  Fleet Captain Dave Foster had Star Captain Siegel and Captain Roberts in his wardroom this evening.  "It's going to be a lot more difficult to take the station, with most of our Marines manning prize-crews to Johnson, and they're bound to have more combat effectives on that station.  I am open to suggestions on how we manage this one."

"We have EMU units for the protos?" Seigel asked.

"We do," Amanda nodded.  "We're gonna need 'em too, we're going in short of infantry."

"I think you have a different definition of 'short' than I do,"  Siegel noted.  "All due respect, Miss Roberts."

"Taken.  We need those fueling docks," Amanda noted.

"What is the status of the follow-on Fleet element?" Siegel asked Dave.

"Well, the last bounce-back from Fleet was two weeks, but it could be longer," he observed.

"We're assuming longer, why?" Amanda asked.

"Because things go wrong, of course," Siegel observed.  "Keep your contingency plans warm, because Murphy is a right ******."

"Means we need to hold more marines back," Amanda noted.  "We currently comprise every potential way they can get word out of our being here, also the only extant escape route, and two warships-does anyone else think they might have someone on the other side who knows how to run a boarding op?"

"I think, given who they claim to be, they must have someone who has at least studied the SLDF manual," Foster observed.

"I thought I picked up a jump signature during the fight…" Siegel said.

"Yeah, and you can see the rear end of that Invader still here.  I don't think they're telling anyone anything," Amanda cracked.  "I mean, I could be wrong…how good is the commo between the afterlife and our opponents?"

Even Siegel chuckled, shooting Foster a raised eyebrow, "Are you sure she is not from your genes, Dave?"

"I claim nothing there," he said. "She just has a good, working sense of humor….and you might consider that Captain Roberts has a stack of accomplishments that has actively triggered envy among our colleagues, Billie."

"Billie? Really?" Amanda looked confused.

"Nickname-also was my callsign when I was flying a Visigoth back when DAVE and I were shave-tail aviators fresh out of sibko."

"About the time your grandfather was raising hell as a forward observer, Amanda," Dave told her.

"Age, then, respect for elders," Amanda observed it firmly.

"See?" Siegel said.  "She gets it."

"Okay, so let us get back to business," David saw this was veering off.  "Plan for taking the station, that is what we are here for."

"First we need to…"

***

"Five JumpShips…

…recovered, including three Invader and two Star Lord class.  That is a major collection of assets,"  Acton Howe stated.
"Strain on the budget?" President Avellar asked.  "Will the finance plan still work out?"

"My Merchant caste advisor says it will work out within the expected budget," Khan Crowe stated.  "I would call the first part of the Michtal operation to be very successful."

"Leaves the rest of it," the President sighed.  "The follow-on forces? Are they going to be on time?"

"Aff," Crowe stated.  "If I have to go out there and push them, even."

"What about our visitors from the other Clans??" Avellar asked.

"Handled… for now.  I am using 'procedures' to delay the inspectors until the Michtal operation is concluded."

"And the overall mission??"

"Is on track," Howe asserted.  "The encirclement of Bannerhoft proceeds, we will be ready to recover that world in August, right on schedule."

"What about the Republic's people?" Crowe asked.

"Ambassador Bin-Hamin's court case is…stalled.  Seems our judiciary is reluctant to allow the lawsuit to move forward based on standing,"  President Avellar didn't grin.  "I'm surprised they haven't tried to use someone in your Clan to shift it to a trial."

"Standing," Crowe stated.  "They do not have any to declare a trial of grievance or possession-at least, not currently, and the Republic has to get in behind the other five Clans if they want to try for a Trial of Possession-and I do not think the current Khans of Jade Falcon or Wolf are willing to step aside for that."

"What's the progress on the other investigation?" President Avellar asked.

"Well…you will not like it, I know I do not like it," Howe said carefully.

"I didn't take this job to hear things I like, Loremaster," Mitchell Avellar stated.

"We have a strong suspicion, and little actual, actionable proof…but the indicators are that the assassination teams sent against you, Roberts, and the Erinyes were most likely financed and organized by the Republic of the Sphere."

"Alternate explanation?" Mitchell asked without blinking.

"You DO understand what I just told you, quiaff?" Howe demanded.
"Yes.  You can't act on it yet," the President stated.  "You know what they did, but because of how they did it, proving it to anyone else is a fool's errand.  I understood perfectly."

"Witness his surprise," Crowe observed.  "Or complete lack of same."

"Terrans," Avellar stated, "have a history of such acts, and the Republic is, if nothing else, headquartered on Terra, with most of the infrastructure of Comstar and probably the remnants of the Terran Hegemony's intelligence groups.  Enough to 'send a message' while appearing to fail. I am, as Khan Crowe notes, completely unsurprised at this shocking revelation."

"So…why an alternate explanation?"

"Because they're pros," Mitchell stated.  "If there isn't a patsy, then your evidence is wrong.  Who's their patsy?"

"Remnant Word of Blake," Howe, at least, seemed pleased.

"They're going to run out of those soon, but at least they don't want us in open war with the Dracs or the Feddies."

"There is… another matter, Mister President," Crowe said it hesitantly.

"Related?"

"It might be.  Howe?"

Loremaster Howe cleared his throat.  "Tangential.  One of the recovered ex-prisoners from Devil's Breath… and possibly Director Amanda Roberts."

"What?"

"There are certain 'practice' DNA sequences retained by the Scientist Caste."

"She's not another Kerensky or something, is she? Or…whatchacallem, 'not named'?"

"Nothing like that, Mister President," Howe said.  "But Jane Doe 234 from Devil's Breath has a line-for-line genetic match for Elizabeth Cameron the Second... and Amanda Roberts' matrilineal DNA has over sixty percent of the unique markers for Cameron inheritance."

"Maybe cloned?" Mitchell asked.

"No signs of drift or mutation.  Jane Doe could not be anyone else but someone genetically identical to the youngest sister of Richard Cameron-the first lord assassinated by Amaris during the coup. There are unique markers in Cameron DNA, it is one of the things we test new Scientist caste in the Eugenics program to look for."

"Well son of a bitch… how much dynamite is this worth?" Avellar asked.

"She insists on having no memory of how she got here, or how she managed to stay physically in her twenties through centuries," Crowe stated.

"You're sitting on this?"

"Aff."

"Then we keep sitting on it until we can work out how and why...and Director Roberts has similar markers?"

"Aff.  We tested her brothers, and they also have them, as does her mother. They are, thankfully, recessives."

"Good god," the President shook his head.  "Why here, why now?  Put those test results under seal, Howe, seal it tight, make it require both MY signature, and the signatures of BOTH Khans, this is the kind of political dynamite that can blow up in our faces if we let it."

"What about Jane Doe?"

"Keep working on her rehabilitation, help her build a new identity if she needs it, keep her comfortable-jesus, what else should any decent person do? The woman was tortured for years!!"

****

A Courier…

…steps out of a hitched ride in downtown.  He believes he is unobserved, he believes nobody is watching him, because his fieldcraft is well trained.
The drop is at an open-air cafe near the spaceport, set on a canal, with pleasure boats and the occasional fisher passing by.  People come here for romance, or to see the sights, or, even, to eat the Chef's Special for two-ninety-nine (or an equivalent in labor credit for the personnel from the base.)

He believes himself unobserved.  He is wrong.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

The woman who is supposed to pick up the packet, and bring it into the Republic's embassy, will be found in the canal tomorrow.

The Courier, of course, has no idea, and won't have any idea, until police enter his apartment with warrants, and find evidence of his crime.

He will be convicted of murder, because Treason comes with…questions.  Questions whose answers pose a number of security threats to the Raven Alliance.

The package is left behind, as our courier hurries off after finishing his meal.

It is retrieved by the busboy, who takes it with the dirty dishes, to be cleaned…or in this case, to be handed to a member of Outworlds Intelligence Corps, counterintelligence division, where it will be passed back to the Raven Watch later this afternoon, sealing the security breach.

This isn't the work of an afternoon, the afternoon's work is the culmination of a nearly decade long investigation.

***

"Jane, I'm going to show you…

…some images, and I want you to be completely honest about what you see."  Dr. Huntington's orders came with a Presidential Seal.

"Will this help me remember who I am?" the patient asked.

"That's what we're going to find out…"  and she held up a flimsy.

"Star League symbol, the…the star. I saw a modified version with some of the military around here."

"That's right.  What was your first thought?"

"Blood."  Jane Doe 264 said. 

The next image.

"He looks…not very smart." The young woman said.  "It's in his eyes. He's…"

"Go ahead."

"Dim.  His father wanted a son so badly."

The doctor put the image of Richard Cameron aside, and brought out another.

The Jane Doe recoiled visibly.  "AMARIS!!" there was hatred there.

Stephan Amaris' image joined the first two on the pile, and the next image came up.

"It was christmas…Solstice, officially, because there are so many faiths in the Hegemony."  Jane said.  There was something awful in her undertone.

"Jane…isn't your name."

Her eyes were watering when she looked up.  "But I want it to be!!"

"Why?"

"I don't want to be her!!" the young woman almost snarled, "WEAK!!  She was weak, she couldn't get away!!" she was almost hysterical.

Huntington changed images. 

"I DON'TWANTTORMEMEBER!!"  this time the patient lashed out, striking the Cameron family photograph from the doctor's hand.  "She was a Spare!! 'heir and a spare!!' Heir and a spare, but they left me there!!  Heir and a spare and they kept me there!!"

Dr. Huntington took her in a hug. "It's going to be alright…"

"You don't understand…I don't want to go back…it's what happened last time…If I have to be her, then I'll end up back in that place…it happened like that before." a grown woman sounding like…like the traumatized child.  "Don't make me be her, doctor.  I don't want to be the spare anymore."

[glitterboy2098]

the fact that amanda and her family have Cameron genetics is interesting. especially since it seems to come from her mother's side. suggests that perhaps her mother's side has distant (and probably unknown to either side) links to the Son's.

as far as "Jane" goes.. are there tests you can do to check to see if the person has been subjected to cryogenic stasis (ala Devlin Stone?) perhaps the Son's have been putting their Cameron Heir 'on ice' for decades at a time, thawing her out just long enough to sire new generations of 'royalty' off her whenever their own ruling line gets too inbred? that would account for both the apparent age (as the aging process is 'on hold' in the deep freeze) as well as some of the apparent mental trauma not related to her origin.

[nocarename]

I'd bet there are things you can check to see if there is freezer burn on the person from cryo.

I'd also bet that anything that keeps you from aging much would wipe those clean your cells and organs.

[Wrangler]

I can only think of ONE other way she could be in the present day aside from a Stasis chamber....Misjump.  That's known to happen, extremely not wildly known but a long jump that fails to arrive on time suspending the ship and crew in mid jump and arriving much later date is technically possible.  If she the real deal, captured by pirates. Then she real one, unless she programed person who related to Elizabeth Cameron whom was seeded in the slave market.  She has her originator's memories would make sense given Amanda's mind state when she broke loose.