Dilemma

On Earth that Was, during the second stage of the 20th century's "Great World Conflict," cryptography and communications took huge leaps forward.  One of the consequences of those leaps, especially where decryption was concerned, were occasions where leaders would have to ignore specific intel so as not to alert their enemies that their codes had been broken.  The end result: civilian deaths because they weren't warned there were bombers on the way to paste the city they lived in.

It was a terrible position to be in and there have been numerous instances since of a leader deciding to sacrifice a target so as not to compromise an intelligence asset.  It's not an easy decision to make, for various reasons.  The ethical concerns are obvious.  Unless you're a bit of a sociopath, sacrificing a civilian target is never a decision to take lightly.  Even if you are a sociopath, there's the issue of people eventually finding out that you were willing to let them die so as not to compromise your intel sources.

I'd been following my adopted daughter's antics and activities for some time.  I'd be doing it even if I wasn't a spook.  I'm her mother after all, and she has a unique ability to find all sorts of very special trouble.  Follow her had led me to keeping track of events on Al Raquis and events involving the Myrmidon Order - a quasi religious cross between a Monastic order and a conventional PMC ^*.

Lily had become quite impressed with one of the order and he'd welcomed her to come train with them and learn their ways.  Somehow, he'd been some sort of impulse for K2, which, I admit, I didn't pretend to understand.  Be that as it was, I'd reluctantly told Lily that it was OK and tried to get it across to Krakken, the Myrmidon, that I expected him to treat my little girl with the respect and care she deserved.

Not unexpectedly, that didn't happen.

She'd come back home, vowing never to go back to the Myrmidon.  Which I was good with.  What I wasn't entirely good with was the information she brought back with her.  During my time monitoring, I'd found it more than a little difficult to get good Intel out of the Order and on the Order.  What Lily brought with her was intel that they were planning to, at some time in the near future, invade Al Raquis.

That was entirely unexpected information, and, to be sure, it didn't make a lot of sense.  My first instinct, after resisting the urge to laugh at the thought of a PMC, even a well organized and equipped one, attacking a well established colony, was to pass the information on the some local contacts on Al Raquis so the local military could be prepared for what was coming.  Only Lily didn't want me to do it.

It left me in an awkward position.  On several levels I wanted to test my network and see whether I could actually use it to make a difference.  I hadn't chosen to become an information broker to be rich.  I already had all the monetary resources I could need and then some.  No.  I'd done it because, ultimately, it was how I thought I could do the most good for the most people.

On a lot of levels I know the idea was flawed.  It was very difficult to know, in my heart, what really was the best use for my information.  What really was best for the thirty six plus billion people living in the 34 Tauri system?

Regardless, Lily's asked me not to intervene.  Why I didn't know.  But I agreed.  For better or worse, I wouldn't warn the military on Al Raquis that an attack might be imminent.  There were other things I could, and would, do if the situation escalated.  But, for now, at my little girl's behest, I would let things happen as they would.

For better or worse
Warnings remain unspoken
My conscience heavy


* Author's note:  I know the Myrmidon Order doesn't see themselves that way in the Dune campaign and other locations where they exist.  However, this blog is strictly from the perspective of a player in the Firefly 'Verse.  Hence, the adaptation to fit within the Canon of firefly. Here's a good starting point.

Signal, ever so faint

I got a wave today from out of the blue.  Well, out of the Black, really.  While I'm still trying to figure out exactly what it means, I am quite sure of the source.  AuroraBlue.  The Tiny Dragon.  My littlest girl.  The message, such as it was, was little more than a series of faint clicks, but the pattern was familiar.  Not unlike Lily's, though the signature was quite distinctly not Lily's.

Tiny Dragon didn't reach out to me often and I had to wonder what prompted the message.  Was she in trouble of some kind on Al Raquis?  Possible, but my information network there hadn't reported anything overly concerning.  Not that it couldn't get past me.  My information nets, while growing tighter, were still growing and I was still learning to properly parse the huge amount of data that was coming in.

Did she know about Sabrina?  The message I'd received?  That I was, again, the Lonesome Ninja?  Entirely possible.  A large part of her genetics had been carefully engineered for a specific purpose.  While the exact purpose was still, annoyingly, unknown, it wouldn't surprise me to find that a touch of the Reader gene was in there somewhere.  Genes, really.  Plus structural changes and who, really, knew what else.  It was possible she knew at an intuitive level that I was alone again and was reaching out to give some small token of comfort.  It was also entirely possible that, assuming 'Brina's departure was the reason, she knew by entirely mundane means.  More likely, really, given her intimate association with the Blue Man AI.

For all I knew, the message could be nothing more than "The weather is beautiful, wish you were here."  But somehow that seemed a little too mundane.  The fact that she's sent an audible message was significant in of itself.

The logical step from here was to check with my contacts on Al Raquis directly then, if they had nothing, go there myself to see how Tiny Dragon was doing.  While I was following the developments with Lily and K2 and AuroraBlue, I'd been very hands off of late.  Perhaps it was time to change that, though my interventions in the past never seemed to do much.  Of course, it was hard to see any effect my actions would have in their situations.  I was too close to it in time and space.

I also wasn't prescient.

Though . . . was anyone?

I'd give it another day or so to check with my local contacts and see if I could figure out why AuroraBlue had contacted me.  If not, or if she didn't contact me again herself, I'd go to her.  Even if it turned out to be nothing more than a sympathy call, it would be good to see her again.

Tiny Dragon calls
A faint voice, unexpected
Welcome distraction

The one wherein a Dragon cries

On some level I am not surprised.  When Sabrina took Elsoph up on his offer to come play in an R&D lab of her own, I'd had a gut feeling that she'd get wrapped up in being able to pursue her technical dreams.  We'd stayed in touch, seeing each other, or speaking over a Cortex link, as often as we could, but on some level I knew the distance was a problem.

I hadn't realized how deeply she'd feel the loss of Hale's Moon, but I should have.  She'd lost a home on Blackburne when the Reavers had overrun the downport.  Even though she was living with me on Hale's by then, she'd felt the loss as had all the others who'd called that place home.  The move to Dragon's Egg was even less comfortable for her than it was for me.  Probably why she accepted the position back on the Orbital, then gone with it when Corporate made the decision to move it.  We'd both called the Orbital home for a time, living on the boat docked in the lower hangar.

Now, she'd chosen to walk away.  Not that I really blamed her.  I even understood why she'd left me a Haiku to say good bye rather than having the a talk that would have been more painful for both of us.

Time has changed us much
I no longer have a home
Into the sunset

Part of me wanted to track her down and have the talk we should have had, while the rest of me knew and understood her reasoning.  I had to remember that old saying: "If you love someone set them free.  If they love you too, they will return."  The thing was the variations in how that old saying ended.  The classical "If they don't return, it was not meant to be."  Or the more irreverent "If they do not return, hunt them down and kill them."

Most people who knew me would expect me to follow the latter interpretation of that saying, but I wouldn't.  I loved 'Brina.  I always will.  But if our marriage wasn't meant to be, I'm willing to let go of it.  I won't be happy to let go of it.  But I am willing.

I just wonder if I'll be able to stay on Dragon's Egg myself.  Lily and AuroraBlue have both been very mobile, but spending far more time on Al Raquis than on Dragon's Egg - a world I have extensive contacts on, but don't feel comfortable on myself.  Simon's been away for weeks without even a SitRep to let me know his mission status, and the colony doesn't actually need me for anything.  I have the house, of course, but other than Haley it's empty.

But that means Haley is the only one who can see the Dragon cry.

Inevitable. 
Time and distance came between.
A hard driven wedge


I will not cast blame
Saying goodbye to my love
Even Dragons cry

Altered structures

Colonel Corriene Silvermane had been the commanding officer of the 1st Marine Raider's for several years, with a brief gap while she recovered from an assassination attempt while on Hale's Moon.  The Loyalist faction wasn't especially fond of an Officer that was not only good at her job, but generally opposed to abusing the colonies her unit was responsible for.  She'd done a lot to normalize relationships between Hale's Moon and the Alliance forces in the region.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, I guess, depending on your perspective, Officers get moved around.  No matter how good you are at what you do, or maybe because of it, you'll get moved to another position.  It was only a matter of time then before they reassigned Silvermane to another unit.  

I was actually happy for her, and for the professional relationship we'd developed.   They'd promoted her to Brigadier General a couple months back and, now, reassigned her to a Divisional position as the Assistant Divisional Commander for the Marine's 4th Frontier Division, which the 1st Marine Raiders was part of.  For her it was a full step up the food chain and, for me, I wasn't actually losing a resource.  It was just maneuvering into another position.

The disadvantage for me, and us as a colony, was we didn't know yet how the new CO would treat the colonies in their patrol area.  Silvermane would still have her influence from above, but she'd have her hands full and now had several other Brigade sized units to deal with in the Division.  If the new CO turned out to be an mudak they could do a lot of harm before word came down from above to back off.

While I had their resume on my desk, along with their background, it was no substitute for actually meeting them.  But when would that happen?  Would that even happen?  While I had official channels to work back up through, I wasn't going to reveal my Intel position to the new CO until I was sure it wouldn't compromise my own plans.  The liaison, Lionheart, could recommend they speak to me as a representative of the colony, but that wasn't an official position.  We had some makeshift law enforcement, but we had no established government.  Yet.

That was something else I'd have to keep my eyes on.  I knew folks feelings on my leadership were mixed.  The folks who'd liked anarchy and the presence of pirates and smugglers weren't so happy with me.  The folks who liked a modicum of safety and stability did.  The inevitable trade off between competing factions.  Thing was, I'd done what I thought was best for the colony then and I'd do the same now.  Should it come to that.  I'd make some noise about what I thought was best, but I wasn't the leader here.  Just a colonist with a vested interest in keeping things stable.  Seing how most folk here still gave the farmhouse a wide berth it wasn't much of an issue.  Bram, and his lackey, I mean "Deputy," weren't giving me any issues either so, for now, it was business as usual.

But for how long?

Home for the holidays: Or not.

I'm not fond of this time of year.  Not the weather, because that's easy enough to change with a short shuttle flight.  No, it's the social aspects of this period on the Old Calendar.  When it was just Earth that Was, the calendar made sense.  So did the holiday periods.  The seasonal cycles were predictable and fixed.  Since the dominant cultures for the last couple thousand years before the Exodus were in the Northern hemisphere, the "holidays" were winter holidays.  A hodge podge of various cultures, all mixing together and distilling down to a set of social traditions that usually involved family and giving presents and stimulating the local economy by the purchase of same.

The holidays are depressing.

Winter is depressing.

I've been out on the Rim now for the holidays for the last seven years.  Even before I went to Hale's Moon, and now on Dragon's Egg, I'd been out here.  I was alone for most of those years, but 'Brina changed that for me. Unfortunately, this year wasn't one we'd get to spend together.  Some sort of technical emergency on the platform, which I actually understand.  She's the best they have and she came back out here to help run the place.  This time of the year is only significant to us because we got together at Firefly's, back on Blackburne, this time of the year.

The girls were off-world, again.  Somewhere.  Actually, I knew where all three of them were.  Keeping track was an ongoing test of my growing network.  But I missed them.  Not that we were a normal family.  Or ever would be a normal family.  Or even could be a normal family.  It was what it was.  Lonesome though it was.

Even Simon was off world for the holidays.

But at least Haley's around.  If you'd asked me, well, ever, whether I thought a Beagle would be the most stable companion in my life, I'd have called you Baka.  But here she was.  Snoring blissfully away in her bed.  Rescued from Reavers, in order to be a stable influence in a lonely Spook's tumultuous life.

Deep Black

The situation on Dragon's Egg is becoming too unstable to continue with my plans. While I've still got a secure link to Saule Silencieuse, and my own Wave Equation on tap, the influx of PMC's and other unsavory types to Dragon's Egg isn't helping my situation. It helps that I've had the entire communications network jacked almost since I arrived, but it'll only be a matter of time before the Alliance takes notice of what's happening and increases their presence even more.

The farmhouse was an unlikely base of operations for me, to be sure, but it was what I had after the decision to move the platform. Though, in truth, Simon had built the place with me and my needs in mind. There was a layer of hull metal between the outer brick layers and the inner wood paneling. The windows were made from the same material they made spaceship viewports from, and there as a concealed fire suppression system built into the ceiling. Add to that a generator that had come out of an Alliance landing craft and more than adequate computing and communication stacks, and I was set. At least I had been set.

There were some things to be said for mild anarchy, of course. For one thing, it was much easier to hide an Intel operation when no one was sure what was going on outside the limited scope of what they could see. But anarchy was, by definition, unstable. And unstable wasn't what I needed for the kind of work I needed to do. So far, it hadn't been an issue. Maybe it was my reputation that was keeping people at bay, but even the Reavers were giving the farmhouse a wide margin. But how long would that last?

It appeared I would need to find a new base of operations.

But where?

Assuming I couldn't secure the situation on Dragon's Egg, of course.  But what would that entail?  There was a subtle push from several directions to establish some form of local government on the colony.  That would actually suit my needs, provided it wasn't too intrusive.  A few of the old Hale's Moon residents had approached me about reclaiming my spot as Mayor but, to be honest, I wasn't sure I wanted it.  The social makeup of the colony had changed.  The feel was different and I knew there were some people who'd actively oppose my leadership.
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That being what it was, I'd be willing to go with more or less any government the colonists decided to implement.  If it became intrusive, I'd leave.  Or, at the very least, move far enough from the settlement to declare independence from their government.  So far, the nearest thing to a government was our self declared Sheriff, Bram, who'd been in the role on Hale's before we had to abandon rock.  His authority was marginal without even a council, though if the Alliance made him a Deputy Marshall he'd actually be the local law.  Though his deputizing Nick was probably a mistake.  We'd have to see how that turned out.

Logistically, Surfer's New Paradise was potentially a good option.  The local government was one of the most laid back in the entire 34 Tauri system and I was well familiar with the colony and its customs.  It was also closer to the Core and better positioned than Dragon's Egg for my needs, also, the locals wouldn't give my girls any hassle when they came to visit.  Honestly, it was a strong contender, but I was a little reluctant to place any kind of burden on my kinfolk.  Even if Uncle Sobi wasn't biologically my kin.

The other option was, of course, to settle onto the IAV Saule Silencieuse.  I already had an office there, the crew was pleasant, if a little odd.  Though who in Signals Intelligence wasn't?  I was comfortable in the Deep Black.  I'd spent a lot of time there, alone, when I went into semi-retirement the first time.  But a Kamkamoss class Corvette wasn't exactly the best place to receive casual visitors.  Her mission required a good deal of obscurity and having people flying out in unmasked civilian boats wouldn't make things any easier.

I could always move back to the platform.  But there was still the matter of traffic and having less control over what was coming and going at the new location.  No.  That wasn't really an option, at least as currently deployed.

For better or worse.  I was staying where I was.

Home is where your dog is.

A new location
A place to do my calling
Home's where your dog is

So then these Reavers show up . . .

Aren't these guys dead yet?

Seriously. How long can they maintain enough of a population to remain a coherent group, let alone a measurable threat?

There were never more than about thirty thousand Reavers to begin with. While there weren't extensive surveys done, it was estimated that one tenth of one percent of those exposed to the Paxilon Hydrachlorate expressed the Aggressor response. With Miranda's population of around thirty million, there would have been about thirty thousand Reavers. That's it. Even if we double, or trebble the count, we're talking well under a hundred thousand of them.

To put it in perspective, that's between one and three Corps worth of Alliance military forces.

Sounds like a lot, until you realize the Army Group deployed in the Kalidaza system alone has more support personnel then there were Reavers in total. And that was roughly twenty years ago now. The days of Reavers raiding and pillaging have been on the wane for a long time.

Attrition's a bitch.

It doesn't help them that, contrary to some of the more insidious conspiracies, there is no evidence, at all, that the Reavers were an intentional result of the Pax. Everything anyone can find on the Pax indicates that the coverup of the incident was quite real, but the actuality of the aggressor reaction was an unexpected and tragic accident. In clinical trials, Paxilon Hydrochlorate was a mood stabilizer and mild sedative. What led Prescott Pharmaceuticals to suggest a massive scale airborne deployment on Miranda is still buried deeper than I've looked, but it wasn't an intention to create a small army of Berserkers to terrorize the Rim.

Even with the occasional "convert" and Mindo's crazy experiments, their numbers have fallen. They've had to. They die in combat. They fly ships that have marginal containment, which leads to more of them dieing. They don't breed. At least not that anyone's ever been able to document. The only children of Reaver rape-survivors I can find reference to were born normal. They didn't inherit the Reaver madness. It's Entropy at its finest.

The Reavers are dieing out, and have been since their were spawned.

So where the Gorram hell do they keep coming from?

With the recent attacks on Dragon's Egg, we can only assume their is either a Nest nearby or a mothership somewhere. Unfortunately, with the KHI Orbital redeployed elsewhere, we don't have anywhere near the array capability we once did. We'll find it, of course, eventually. But in the meantime, I've got to hope the colony can deal with the threat.

Dragon's Egg isn't Hale's Moon. We've got some skilled soldiers, but we don't have the well drilled militia we had on Hale's. Though, fortunately, the scale of the attacks seem to be smaller. Also, they seem to be steering clear of the Farmhouse. Maybe it's a few well placed shots from my long gun, or maybe they identify the place as mine and give it a wide margin. Either way, I haven't had to deal with them directly.

Though that may change.

Lily'd taken K2 with her days ago, but he was with her here on Dragon's Egg when the Reavers attacked. And, now, he's missing. Whether they have him or not, we don't know. Acting on their own, they'd have eaten him already. Acting on AuroraBlue's order? Different story. Does this tribe treat her as their Queen? If so, would she really send them here to get him?

Not sure I want to know.

But I will.

It's what I do now.

Little child of sand

Have the Reavers come for you?

Or unrelated?