To wait by the sea for a tide that never comes

I haven't seen Simon in weeks.  It's not entirely unusual, though I had hoped we would be able to extricate ourselves from our respective roles enough to try and become an actual couple.  It is what it is.  Ultimately, it's little different from my marriage to Sabrina.  We spent more time apart than together.  While the times together were spectacular, they were infrequent and often interrupted by circumstances beyond our control.

Of course, my life has led me to accept long periods of being alone.  Some would say Spooks are always alone, even when they are with the person they love.  Sadly, I've come to believe it's true.  Married or not.  In a crowd or not.  I am alone.

Except for Haley.

Right now, I don't want to be alone.  Though, technically, I'm not.  Haley is here with me, her baleful howls both annoying and endearing.  She doesn't really understand why I've been sitting on a lounge chair under Wave Equation's wing, looking out over the ocean near my personal vacation spot on Dragon's Egg's "far side" away from the settlement.  She's a dog.  She doesn't need to really understand.  She does what she does, which is sit in my lap and try and make me feel better.  Forty thousand years of parallel evolution has bred this into her very genes, and bred the response into mine.  A tight hug, and burying my face in her fur to hide the tears.

But the tears come unbidden.

Lily is gone.

On some level, I know she can't really be gone.  Not in the same sense that "normal" people are gone when they die.  Lily's shell was artificial.  I'm actually fairly sure we could bring the shell back . . . on-line?  Probably not accurate, but as close as anyone will get.  There are still two people who know how she worked.  With effort, I'm confident they could bring her back.  Assuming we could get the shell back from Al Raqui's desert born.

Who am I kidding.  If I choose to recover my daughter's shell there is little chance they could stop me, even if they knew I was coming.

But what of her Ghost?  She's bee broadcasting since she's been alive.  I know Blue's been listening.  I've been listening.  I don't know what it means, but Blue does.  Sinclair probably does too, in her own way.  But Blue hasn't been talking to me and Sinclair?  I don't think she can dumb it down enough to explain it to me in words I would understand.  I'm not stupid, but when it comes to the kind of maths she's talking about, I'm not sure anyone else understands it.  Except Blue.  Maybe.

I feel empty.  A crowd wouldn't help.  Playing chess with Niki, or having coffee with Cory, or hanging out with Genni and her family, wouldn't make it better.  Haley helps.  Simon would help, if he were around.  AuroraBlue could help too.  Though I doubt the Tiny Dragon would show that kind of emotion.  But none of them can fill the empty spot.  No one can replace my little girl.

"Blue.  I know you can hear me.  Just . . . sometimes, I wish you'd say something."

I sit by the sea
Alone, waves coming ashore
Rolling up the beach

Signal fades to noise
Tides ebb and flow like our lives
Memories remain

Emptiness inside
A void as big as the sea
Begging to be filled

But some things once lost
Can not then be recovered
Only remembered

Love transcends the shell
Your ghost will ride the signal
I miss you, Mei Mei

Democracy 101: The Tyrany of the Majority

Back on Hale's Moon, they elected me Mayor.  Ultimately, a role that became the de-facto governor of the entire world.  A small world, to be sure, but as the leader of the only major settlement on the little terraformed rock, my authority extended to more or less the entire world.  When the survivors of Caliban settled on Hale's and founded the Destiny township, they were arguably independent of our governance.  But they still used our traffic control and still recognized what passed for Customs being based out of the main settlement.  They controlled their own settlement, but understood that we controlled the rest of the world.

Not that it mattered much then.

Not that it matters at all now.

Dragon's Egg doesn't really have much of a government yet.  There is what remains of the town elders who came over from Hale's, including myself, who kind of serve in something of an advisory capacity to the rest of the town, and were working with the Alliance liaison - when we still had one.  When Blue Sun started to exercise more influence, and the mercs took over "protection," the council stopped meeting so often and people stopped caring so much.

Now, though, noises of a new Sheriff were in the wind.  Which made sense, given the nearest thing we had to Law Enforcement was people shooting anyone who tried to rob them.  Not a bad solution, actually, but some actual civil law was a step towards actual civilization and a step away from being a company town.  Next step would probably be an actual Mayor.  Assuming it all got that far.

It was actually surprising how many folk had signed on for the election for Sheriff.  Even one of the former Mercs, who'd decided to forgo the old life and settle here, was signed on.  Wasn't going to vote for him myself, but that had more to do with my planning to vote for Gallagher, seeing as he'd been Sheriff before on Hale's and me feeling he'd do a good job of it again here.

Thing is, it is a step back onto the path we'd all originally thought we were on when we came to Dragon's Egg from Hale's Moon.  Re-establishing a thriving colony with a sense of community and a new sense of purpose.  It just hasn't been turning out that way.  The discoveries of who wrapped up into the colony Blue Sun really is hasn't actually made a lot of people comfortable.  Sure, there were some business advantages to having less Alliance oversight, but being a company town for the most part wasn't actually good for us.

Well, not good for most of us, anyway.  Maybe I'd been too passive in letting KHI Corporate move the orbital maintenance facility elsewhere.  On Hale's, the KHI presence had been something of a counterpoise to the Blue Sun presence.  That and the colonists having inherited the mining operations from Weyland Yutani when they abandoned the colony.

Here, we didn't have that.  Blue Sun's roots here went deep and there was little chance of ever escaping them.  It kind of begged the question of why I stayed here myself.  Sure, I'd jacked the communication network almost since the arrival.  I had my own drones and feeds from all the local security systems.  But there was still this creeping feeling that I wasn't quite in the right position.  Too much visibility without the power to compensate for it.  The solution was probably to drop further out of sight, rather than to try and gain more influence.  Let them forget I was here so I could go about my business.

Of course, I could always retreat back to my command ship or, if I wanted to enjoy the comforts of a living biosphere, I could further develop the little place I'd set up half way round the planet.  There really was something to be said for a sheltered beach house...

Elect a Sheriff
Vote early and vote often
Is that how it goes?

The kids in the hall. I mean mine.

On Hale's Moon, I knew virtually everyone who called the world home.  There were a few people in the distant outlaying settlements, if three prospectors living out of a grounded Dakota class transport could be considered a settlement, that I didn't know.  But I usually knew of them even then.

On Dragon's Egg, it hasn't been the same.  A lot of folk coming and going and, to be honest, I haven't felt the close attachment to the people that I felt on Hale's Moon.  On Hale's I knew the names and faces and stories of over a thousand residents.  On the Egg, I doubted I knew more than a hundred.  At least not personally, and the majority of those were people who'd come with us after the Core Rebound that destroyed Hale's.

There was an old saying about not seeing the forest for the trees.  It was a reference to being so close to the details that you couldn't see the bigger picture.  It was a comfortable place, actually, if your weapon of choice was a chainsaw.  It seemed though that I was sliding to the other extreme.  I couldn't see the trees that made up the forest.  From low orbit, it was just a big green carpet.

That didn't mean I didn't know about, or care about, some of the very close to home details.  Like the Frog  kid and Lily's K2 going missing.

The search lasted days, focused mostly on some of the "old mines" that, ultimately, were a bit of a mystery on a newly released for occupation world.  Just another detail that had been either omitted or erased from the terraforming records of this world.  Fortunately, that's where they found the boy.  Locked away in some cage, surrounded by crazy people.

Ittai nani ga okotte iru?

Crazy people.  Living underground.  In a mining complex.  Considerably bigger than the test mines we'd found when we arrived.  On a world that had been inhabited for barely a year.  The mind boggles.  But the fact was they were there, both the tunnels and the people, and the boy.

Of course, it didn't help that there was an implication that the tunnel system was changing at a fairly rapid rate.  Which indicated active digging on a scale considerably greater than the pilot mines and exploratory digs our locals had started could manage.  Let alone Lily or K2, with a passion for digging.  And . . . the lack of seismic signatures we'd gotten so used to on Hale's Moon where rock mining was a way of life.

Only one thing came to mind which might be able to tunnel that quickly and quietly, and that thought was not something I wanted to dwell on.  Though it did prompt me to reposition one of the crowbars.  If we did have a mother bot on Dragon's Egg, I wanted to be sure we were in position to make it a smoking crater if we needed to.

But all this just led me to the conclusion that I needed to know more about the world we were living on.  Supposedly, the records were open.  Obviously, that was not really the case.  Which meant I was going to need to do some digging myself to get to the facts behind the truth.

I would know.  It was just a matter of time.

But, in the mean time, we still had to find K2.

Child of the sand
Digging into the unknown
What have you found now?

The Repo Men Cometh

I'm not known for being a gambler.  Risk taker, yes.  When the reward is sufficient to justify the risk, I'll take a chance.  It comes with the territory.  But not so much of a gambler for gambling's sake.  Sometimes though, I'll make a small bet.  Something for the fun of it, where the amusement value is far greater, win or lose, than the resource value of the bet.

Like making a bet with Cory that x0x0's hired guns would be able to recover the Cruiser, where the General was fairly sure it would actually be an Alliance unit that recovered the ship.  She wasn't willing to specify that it would be one of her units that did it, because that would be cheating.  Just that it would be the Alliance, and not a Mercenary unit, that took the cruiser back from Cerberus.

The stakes?  Our next face to face would be over a nice brunch, loser picks up the tab.

Sure, a nice brunch could cost a month's wages for a dirt farmer on the Rim.  But we weren't dirt farmers.

I'd honestly thought the unit x0x0 hired to recover the cruiser on Blue Sun's behalf would be up to the task.  My personal feelings on Cerberus Security aside, there were units out there bigger and better equipped and available for hire.  Not to mention specialists on just that sort of operation.  It just took the financial resources to do it, which was not something Blue Sun lacked.

Exactly why that operation fell through I was still sussing out.  Something about an emergency reassignment that was important enough to invoke the "something came up" clause in their contract with Blue Sun.  The reason was there, should I bother to look for it.  Regardless.  They backed out, which left the Alliance in the position of sending in their own teams to accomplish the exact same mission.

The results were inevitable either way.  Whether the hired guns did it.  Whether the Alliance did it with a small team.  Whether the Alliance used an entire assault company.  Whether the Alliance stood off and destroyed the ship with heavy weapons from another Cruiser.  The results would be the same.  Cerberus would give up the ship.  The only variable would be the number of casualties and how much was spent on the operation.

Now, personally, I would have sent an infiltration team over to jack the controls, lock out the Mercs, and then just let the Alliance come get their boat.  Whether I went myself or not was open to debate.  I'd done similar operations in the past.  In fact, I'd done more clandestine boardings than I cared to remember, but I didn't really have a stake in this.  This was strictly Alliance business.  Sort of.

I did have to hand it to the team they sent though.  I'd been prepared long in advance for this, regardless of who actually executed it.  Jacked feeds and small recon drones in place to observe the action.  The operation was surprisingly well executed, though I was surprised at how Cerberus treated the one Alliance trooper they managed to capture.

Hint: Mercenary units that openly threaten to torture, kill, or maim, captives, can find their hard earned reputations seriously tarnished.

Hint:  Mercenary units that actually carry out threats to torture, kill, or maim, captives, can find they have been blacklisted and subsequent contracts are very, very, hard to acquire.

Such was what it was.  I'd filed a recommendation before that the Alliance seriously consider refusing to tender any further contracts with Cerberus.  Now, after getting confirmation they'd abused one of the captives, I took it to the next step.

Sure, people could ignore the blacklisting.  Cerberus might even try and appeal it to the Guild.  But it was filed now through official channels.  They would almost certainly still find work, but their actions had consequences and they'd be dealing with the fallout from these actions for some time to come.

Maybe Uncle Sobi should have gone up and tried to talk them out.

Would probably have been much less expensive for all involved.

Action, reaction
The consequences should hurt
Lesson learned too late

Unexpected returns and other curiosities of reality

If I said I wasn't surprised to see Gallagher back in action on Dragon's Egg, I would be lieing.  I'd had a feed going to see what he was up to, but hadn't payed much attention it.  There was just too much and Nora hadn't flagged anything specific.  But he was back.  For better or worse.  Hopefully for the better, actually.

Gallagher and I had had our differences on Hale's Moon when he was Sheriff and I was Mayor.  Not unusual to have some friction in that sort of working relationship, but, ultimately, he'd done a decent job of it. At least the citizens liked him and were willing to be peacable under his watch, which was really all I'd been after.

Considering that we were about to lose the "protection" afforded by the hired mercenaries, Gallagher's return was actually well timed.  Whether he'd be willing to do it or not, and whether I could convince the rest of what passed for the Town Council to go for it, having him back as Sheriff might not be such a bad idea.  Whether or not I resumed the role of Mayor or not didn't matter.  In fact, it might even be better if I wasn't back in that role.

While there was something to be said for being Mayor, there were also a lot of other issues.  On Hale's Moon, I'd been defacto Governor, since the main settlement had been the only real concentration of people on the entire rock.  At least until the survivors from Destiny set up their little settlement.  But on Hale's, the folk owned their colony.  When Weyland Yutani abandoned the colony, the colonists tool position of the assets.  On Dragon's Egg, things weren't quite so cut and dried.  As time went on, we came to realize that Blue Sun wasn't just a major investor in the new colony, but had had a great deal to do with the original "alternative, long duration, terraforming" process.

Though never acknowledged as the original intent, Dragon's Egg had become largely a company world beholden to Blue Sun.  That might have panned out differently if KHI hadn't decided to relocate their facilities elsewhere, but it was what it was and there wasn't much I could do now to change it.

I didn't want to be the Mayor of a Company Town.  At least when it wasn't my company.

But that did still leave the issue of defense and the Law.  I'd be OK with someone else taking the reins as Mayor.  Things got too uncomfortable, I had my plot well away from anything important.  Far enough out to be left alone.  Barring that, I could go back into the black.  I'd be OK either way.  So someone else could get shot at instead of me, and maybe Gallagher would pick up his tin star again.

That just left defense, and we had a solution to that.  The Militia on Hale's Moon had been quite effective in its day.  Was a thorn in the side of Loyalist Alliance, and more then a match for most Reaver boats that made the mistake of landing.  We still had enough folk from the old colony around that we'd have a core to build around.  That was something I could handle myself.  Gallagher wanted to help, I'd be right happy to let him, and I didn't foresee any issue with the Town Council.

Blue Sun might object, but chances were x0x0 would be right with the idea too.  Especially seeing how she'd helped supply the Militia back on Hale's.

It'd be something to set in motion.  At least once the issue with the cruiser was settled.

Funny thing about that though, was getting a wave from my Uncle Sobi, offering to try and negotiate a peaceable settlement.  Doubted they'd listen, but doubted he'd listen if I told him it's likely be a bad idea.  Wasn't sure if he was serious though, seeing how things were last time he had words with any of them.

Constantly in flux
Situation always changing
Life as it should be

We knew it was coming

There are times I wish I couldn't so readily predict the outcome of certain chains of events.  Like the chain which started before we evacuated Hale's Moon and ended with a Mercenary unit turning on their employer and holing up on a borrowed Alliance Light Cruiser.  Or whatever they had re-designated the IAV Sun Tzu II when they handed it over to the Mercs.

I'd always been mildly amused by the choice of ship, considering the IAV Sun Tzu, the ship Brigadier General Silvermane called home, filled a similar role, though was larger, newer, and still a Ship of the Line.  Fleet was large enough that I could actually see how they somehow recycled ship names before bringing the previous barer of the name out of service, but it still struck me as amusing that two ships of such similar designation and role would wind up in the same sector.

The fact that the mercenaries didn't intend to give the ship back led, inexorably, to an effort to reclaim the ship from them by other means.  Where a Diplomat like Lionheart would negotiate for it, or a Military Officer like Silvermane would offer terms to surrender the ship in the face of overwhelming firepower, and someone like myself would use more subtle means, we were dealing with a Blue Sun sponsored contract and, thus, a Blue Sun sponsored recovery operation.

Now, that didn't rule out any of the previous options.  Blue Sun was a business, and business interests usually went for the most expedient, least expensive, solution to any given situation.  Negotiations, military action, or infiltration were all on the table.  So, for that matter, was bribery.  It might be cheaper to just bribe them off the ship than to pay for the expertise to remove them by other means. But there was also some Face involved here, which meant there were other factors at play besides what method would have the best cost / benefit ratio.

Chatter had that "alternative" method being a rival Mercenary organization.

Not that that wasn't something I'd known about for a while.  Or something the former paid guardians of Dragon's Egg wouldn't also be expecting.  Even without my Intel resources, they would have to suspect Blue Sun to come after them in force, once they got past the "Ask nice and hope they accept" stage.  In truth, I hadn't quite expected them to bomb the colony in passing.    Though I probably should have.

Fortunately, I guess, I had already left town to visit Genni at their remote farm when the bombing happened. Which meant I was far from the action when it hit.  But I was left wondering why they'd done it.  Were they trying to frighten the colonists so they would beg Blue Sun to back off and let the Mercs keep the ship?  Were they being vindictive?  Or had someone just gotten a little too tense at the launch controls?

Hard to say and, truth be known, I didn't feel the need to infiltrate the ST2 to find out why.  It would come out, eventually, or it wouldn't.  The why wouldn't really change anything.  They'd bombed civilian targets, done a fair bit of property damage, and left two people missing.

The first, one of the local miners, was of measurable concern.  I'd have to find out if had any family so the town council could respond appropriately.  The other was Lily's boy; K2.

That would have much greater consequences.  Lily herself would be frantic, and the boy's erstwhile "father" was highly placed in the Myrmidon Order.  That translated to the Mercs bringing down a whole world of hurt, the likes of which they were likely ill prepared for.  Even if Blue Sun wasn't going to ante up for a first rate Merc unit, it was pretty much guaranteed the Myrmidons would be moving against Cerberus.

I just had to wonder how many observation drones I could get into place to watch the show.

Whether planned or not
Unintended consequence
Time to pay the price

The one wherein I actually listen to someone and stay out of the middle of things

I have never been known for being "obedient."  There is a reason that "and obey" was omitted from my wedding vows both times I got hitched.  Yes, when I was in the service I would obey the orders of my superior officers, but that was a matter of military discipline and personal honor.  It didn't mean, though, that I did so without question.  I am still alive because there were times I interpreted an order, rather than obey it blindly and to the letter.

Simon knew all that, of course.  He'd seen my record.  What of it was accessible, which, for him, was most of it.  When it came to taking or giving orders, or relative ranks meant little.  Nor did our roles as Husband and Wife.  He didn't order me.  I didn't order him.  At least outside very special circumstances.  Circumstances which usually involved items not normally employed outside one's bedroom or some very exclusive clubs.  We would ask.  Strongly suggest.  Sometimes entice, or even cajole, but we didn't order.

The thing was, we hadn't needed to order.  We'd grown to trust one another long before we'd been married.  Initially as professionals, at least from my perspective, then as friends, and finally as a couple.  When Simon came to join me at the secluded little spot I'd found on the far side of Dragon's Egg from the main settlement, he'd come, in part, to suggest, entice, and cajole.

Simon had been spending a lot of time dealing with some of the side action involving Al Raquis, Blue Sun, x0x0, the Ardra AI, and some of my friends over in the Justice unit.  Why?  I could probe and find out, but had consciously chosen not to.  It all tied back to Lily and the data manipulation I'd been doing to make her feeds look legitimate.  For all that effort, it appeared I was doing a more than adequate job as whoever was actively after her was accepting the feeds as legitimate.  Somehow, this also tied back to the Ass Clowns from Cerberus reducing the Alliance's interest in Dragon's Egg, though with Blue Sun's political clout, I wasn't sure why they were necessary.  Though he did confirm the suspected method Blue Sun, through the supposedly "dead" x0x0, would be using to reacquire the IAV Sun Tzu II on the Alliance's behalf.

None of this was actually news to me.  Even if I couldn't personally parse even a tiny fraction of the information we collected, Nora, my long suffering Expert System, did an exceptionally good job of sifting out the items I was actively concerned about.  What, exactly, Simon was so concerned about I couldn't actually tell though.  There was some event that hadn't come fully clear, beyond "it is a Bad Thing^tm," that had him spooked.  To the point of practically begging me to help conduct a "drill" to get people down into the shelter so they wouldn't witness whatever Bad Thing^tm was going to be happening.

I would find out what had him spooked, of course.  It was what I did.  But I would also help get the colonists into the safety of the underground shelters.  Geni Foxtrot would help, as would a few of the other Town Elders.  Many of the original colonists remembered the days back on Hale's Moon and would still respect a request that came from their former Duly Elected Mayor and de facto Colonial Governor.

The question of "why" would be answered in good time.

Time for action nears
Consequences of what though?
Time will make things clear

Part of the job

Logistics Section, interoffice encrypted communication.

Classified: YES

Level: S-

Destination: 3-1-L Logistics.

Begin encrypted communications:

[Start Standard Header Block]

[Security Classification: SCI Theta +]

[Special Compartment ID: N/A]

[Outer Algorithm Category: K1]

[Inner Algorithm Category: LV]

[Primary Encryption Key: eb040dec329f6461fb8cbdac4b75cba1]

[Signatory Encryption Key: 2f6aa1d4c96cb9378156eaa2ffdfe97c]

[End Standard Header Block]

Fr: Colonel S. Kawanishi - Retired 

To:  General M. Thirboldt - Logistics Command, Rim Sectors

CC: General C. Silvermane - AUP Marines

CC: LiOff B. Lionheart- Department of State, Colonial Development Section

General Thirboldt,

While I have filed this report through standard channels, I have also, due to the time sensitive nature of the situation, chosen to forward this to you directly.  I believe the information and recommendations herein are directly relevant to the operation and reputation of your Regional Logistics command.  General Silvermane and Liaison Officer Lionheart can attest to the veracity and relevance of my reporting.

Shortly after the opening of Dragon's Egg to new settlement, the Department of State and Blue Sun, as the colony's sponsor, enlisted Cerberus Security to provide local security and defense to the new colony.  While many of the colonists were survivors of the Hale's Moon terraforming disaster, it was considered appropriate to engage a PMC to provide security in lieu of the colonists forming a local militia.

After some disputes regarding payment, contract obligations, and conduct, Cerberus Security reneged on their contract.  This, in of itself, would normally just entail arbitration and a footnote in their file.  However, Cerberus Security subsequently turned on the colony, going so far as to attempt a blockade of the main settlement. [[See reports: SPO-55391-A and SPO-55426-C for further detail]] 

While General Silvermane has offered to dispatch a Company strength unit from the 1st Marine Raiders to protect the colonists, Blue Sun, as the colony sponsor, with the support of DoS-CDS, will be dealing with the issue directly in their own way.  

It is my official recommendation, both as an UAP Officer and a member of the colony's local advisory board, to formally remove Cerberus Security's certification as an Authorized PMC for all future Alliance Military Assistance and Local Security contracts.

It is one thing for a PMC to dispute their contract.  It is another matter entirely for them to turn on the civilian population they were hired to protect.  Whether the organization faces criminal charges for their actions will be up to Justice.  I am more concerned with the prospect of them being in a position to so poorly represent the Alliance in the future.

Thank you for your consideration,

Colonel S. Kawanishi

[MACHash: e097e1136dc79bc1149e32a8a6bde5ef]

[EOL]

Stepping away

My dislike of Mercenaries is well known.  My dislike of a certain, specific, mercenary group is also well known.  When they were shown the door after abandoning their contract, I was more than a little amused.  In fact, I was actually quite pleased with the development.  They were gone and we would no longer have to deal with their ass clownery.

That was, until they came back.

I should have known they would come back and interfere somehow, like trying to blockade the port facility or something equally stupid.  But their half assed-blockade wouldn't last.  The only question was whether Blue Sun would send in assets to deal with it, or whether the Alliance would divert a passing Patrol Frigate to clean up the mess.

In either case, the mercenaries would get their collective asses handed to them and, with any luck, would find their gene pool had been rather thoroughly chlorinated.  Regardless, it wasn't my problem.  I had places to be and even with one of their idiot pilots shooting at me, they were going to do little more than scratch the paint on my boat.

I'd bill them for it later.  Actually, I wouldn't.  I'd extract it from their funds somewhere along the line, though with their impending demise it seemed prudent to charge their existing accounts rather than put a lien against future contracts.  I had a feeling that there wouldn't be many future contracts.  In fact, once I took care of some personal matters I would put some effort into assuring the best contract they got was playing security guards to Uncle Ramsey's Traveling Medicine Show and Petting Zoo.

Amazing what happens to your contract base when all of the references list your performance as "Tāmen màorán bǐ hóuzi qiú" and the reviewers say "I ne budet nanimatʹ ikh dlya zashchity ot musornoy svalki."  Which was probably better than if I pursued my much deeper desire involving Haiku and a power stapler.  No, adding them to the list with Niska would have to suffice.

Annoyeth not a dragon.
For they are mysterious beasts, powerful and cranky.
And you are small and crunchy and taste good with Wasabi.

 Of course, even without my help the reputation they would gain for turning on their employer would more or less end it for them.  No one hires a mercenary unit with a reputation for betraying their clients.  No one.  Except the overwhelmingly desperate or the frightfully stupid.  This one they'd done themselves.  No need to intervene to assure their destruction.  Though there was no harm in helping the process, was there?

They, though, were not why I was stepping away from Dragon's Egg for a brief spell.

As I have every year since it happened, I am taking some time to pay respects to Caitlin's memory.  I always said a prayer for her on the anniversary of her death.  I suspect I always will.  My first true love.  My first tragic loss.  The event colored my decisions for years and led me down the path that brought me here.  The Ice Queen was born with her death, with dire consequences.

Where I had created a small Shinto shrine for the purpose on Hale's, and salvaged it when we evacuated, I'd never set it up here on Dragon's Egg.  Now, a month after the anniversary, it was time to find a proper place for it on this still near-pristine world.  Her memory deserved it. And, on some level, Dragon's Egg probably needed it.

The advantage on Dragon's Egg over Hale's Moon was the relative size of the world.  Where Hale's had been a marginally suitable moon, slightly below the minimum size for gravetic compression terraforming, Dragon's Egg was considered a full size world.  There were places I could go far, far, from the main colony and scattered settlements where I could place the shrine in peace and spend a few days with myself and her memory.

The O shiri no piero could look for me, but they'd never find Wave Equation on the ground.  The last thing they'd seen was my boat burning for orbit, leaving them in my wake.  They may have considered the possibility I'd turned and re-entered atmo on the far side, but their dorogaya igrushka grade sensor suite wouldn't have much chance of finding me.  Which was just how I wanted it.

You think you have won
We do not fight the same war
You will learn in time

Streaming reality

Once I got used to correcting the data streams on the fly and got my algorithms in place, covering for Lily's 'unacceptable' data became a manageable task, if not entirely routine.  Of course, It didn't hurt that I was able to tap a resource that was frighteningly good at manipulating numbers in real time.  Not that I had her doing it for me directly.  No. Just a few quick algorithms that would do the job I needed done and would run within the limits of the hardware I had at hand.

With the Lily situation more or less under control, I could turn some attention back to my own projects.  Not that my crew wasn't able to continue on their own.  They were capable and I'd trained them well.  I just wanted to be involved more.  Routine didn't really suit me.

I did have a number of irons in the fire, of course.  We were still gathering incriminating evidence against Niska.  At least incriminating evidence that was useful to our cause, rather than specific evidence the Justice Department would be interested in.  They weren't, after all, especially interested in Justice.  Just the Law and those it was written to benefit.  No.  Our interest in Niska and his operation were more subtle and more focused on his operations than any specific violations of Alliance or local laws.

On another side, we had our own counter-Intel operations.  We couldn't be especially effective if our project was widely known, so it behooved us to keep our operations as far below the radar as possible.  Which naturally lead to trying to get a twenty thousand meter view from down in the weeds.  Not impossible, but not especially easy.  But that was why the majority of our operation was SigInt rather than HumInt.  Can't stop the signal, or so the saying went.  And, where there was signal, we could tap into it with barely a whisper in the ether.

Listen.
Record.
Analyze.
Archive.

Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

I had live operatives, of course.  But not many, and only one or two who had any real idea who they worked for and what we did.  Unlike Mister Niska, for us, an individual Reputation was more of a Bad Thing(tm) than an asset.  For the organization, it was a different matter.  But that was more concerning making sure the information you sold was actually accurate, and secrets you were paid to keep stayed secret.  A task I had a unique perspective on from a previous life.

For the time being, we were just in Listen mode.  Tuned in to the ebb and flow of information through the 'Verse.  Measuring the data.  Scoping out the competition.  Developing sources and potential clients.  Learning how to scale to the volumes we were seeing.  It was taking time.  Perhaps more than I wanted it to.  But we knew going in what we were up against and how substantial the task was.

Of course, we weren't doing this cold.  People had been doing this for years and the Business Plan, such as it was, was familiar to anyone who reached management levels in any decent Intel organization. Processes and objectives I was well familiar with.

Work behind the scenes
As we build the perfect beast
Knowledge is power

And then the Mercenaries quit...

I've never pretended to like mercenaries.  They have their uses, sure.  A military force that can be deployed on short notice with little concern save the layout of coin.  They may not be cheap, but you're not having to worry about their long term care and feeding.  They're like construction workers, only in reverse.  Rather than coming in, putting up a structure, then leaving when the contract is over, they come in, tear down a structure or two, then leave when the contract is done.  Either way, once they've done the job, you don't really care what they do after that.

Though, to be sure, folk from the Carpenter's Craft Hall aren't likely to come back and shoot you later.  One of the several downsides of hiring mercenaries.  With no incentive save coin, there's little inherent trust and nothing to say they won't take a lucrative contract against you in the future.  Few will actually turn on an employer during a contract, as that would effectively destroy their reputation.  But once a job's finished?  It's accepted that they are free to take any contract they want.

Technically, I know why the Alliance hired Cerberus to provide security for Dragon's Egg and picked up the tab.  It was actually fairly common on the smaller Border and Rim colonies to hire Private Military Contractors to handle the day to day security duties where it was too expensive to deploy an actual Federal unit.  Some worlds, like Hale's Moon, had their own local Militia and Law, but they were the exception.   Dragon's Egg had a lot of folk who'd served in Hale's Militia, but they were willing to put up their guns and deal with something other than Reavers and a desert world trying to do them in.  Not that most of them didn't still have their arms, and a case or two of Blastite in the basement.

With the wedding and all, and looking after the feeds to keep Lily "useful," I hadn't been paying over much attention to the goings on surface side.  It came as a bit of a surprise, if not a shock, when Uncle Sobi sent a wave to inquire if I'd known whether Cerberus had actually dropped their contract, or whether their leader was just trying to get the unit fired for "Conduct not befitting a Security Officer."  Seemed Jet had gotten himself more than a little drunk and taken to threatening Sobi, Cody, Lily, and other patrons at The Signal.  Was proud of my little girl, how she handled it though.

I'd have to confirm the contract status officially with Lionheart, not that I couldn't extract the information myself.  It was polite to ask, and all.  But if they really had packed it up, we'd have a bit of a gap in coverage.  Blue Sun could easily, and likely would, dispatch a company security team to take over.  Thing was, the colony already felt too much like a Blue Sun company town.  Since KHI didn't have any assets here officially, I couldn't well call upon that resource.  Which left either seeing what we could do about reforming the local Militia and instating a Sheriff, or seeing if Lionheart could either hire on another security firm or convince District to put some Federals on the ground.

Fact was, a single Marshal could probably handle Law Enforcement for the whole colony, but he'd be hard pressed to fend off a real attack.  Though there were probably enough folk left with Militia training to deal with that, worse came to worse.

Just left a few questions hanging, and me without many answers.

Not short on ideas.  Just answers.

Dealings done

It's done.

Married.

Again.

If you had asked me even six months ago whether this would have happened, I'd have laughed.  Though, in truth, Simon and I had talked about getting married just to enhance our covers on Dragon's Egg. Then it was just for the cover.  Wouldn't even have had to sleep together - not that I'd have minded.  While Haley was adorable and snuggly, a Beagle was no substitute for a Person to keep you warm at night.  Besides.  She snores.

Simon, fortunately, doesn't snore.  But I knew that already.  There were a lot of things I could have known, but consciously chose not to.  I've had an extensive file on Simon for some time, left filed, safely encrypted, and unread, by choice.  When he started courting me I started compiling information but, as time went on, I came to the conclusion that he was actually serious about us and that some things were best left unknown.  Which is probably why his dress uniform was a bit of a surprise.

I'd known Simon was part of the Intel community all along, though I hadn't pressed to find out exactly which unit was home.  I knew it was Alliance, rather than criminal or Indie, but not whether it was LEO, or MilInt, or State, or one of the even more obscure branches.  It was probably in the file.  Though my own unit was deep enough that I'd have to have been actively looking to find it - and I wasn't actively looking into Simon's past.

When I saw him at the alter, a lot of things came together.  His dress uniform was impeccable, perfectly tailored, and authentic.  My Spook turned Gentleman Farmer was a Fleet officer, rather than Ground Forces as I was.  But he also ranked me.  Several grades, in fact.  Ranked Silvermane too.  And Taggart.  Fact was, he was awfully young to be an Admiral with that many pips.

No wonder Grandfather had been willing to go along.  Simon was a ranking officer from a well placed family.  While my folks had been willing to accept Sabrina because I loved her, I doubt they'd ever been able to reconcile my getting hitched to someone with a Frontier background.  Except Uncle Elsoph, who couldn't have cared less about her background.  He loved her because she understood what he was about.  With Simon, they saw it as marrying closer to my station.  Not that I cared about station, but I understood the concern.

Dragon's Egg's small church was about right for the ceremony.  There weren't a lot of people in attendance.  Mostly local friends and a few who dropped in when they heard the news.  Silvermane sent a team from her personal body guard unit to provide some unobtrusive security, since there was no way I was going to let those Cerberus obez'yan be my honor guard or provide security.  That their leader "tripped" and almost dumped cake on Simon's uniform kind of reinforced that decision.  Fortunately, he and his team didn't manage to ruin the event for anyone.

My girls were surprisingly well behaved, though I think Lily was a bit taken aback when she realized she wasn't the one getting married.  But at least Abby gave her the bouquet when she caught it.  She and AuroraBlue didn't fight in public at least.  That they were both there was a kindness.  Though I did miss x0x0, and would have been happy if someone from my family had actually been on hand to "give me away."  Though that would happen at the second ceremony, on Ariel, when it finally happened.

The thing was, the wedding was ultimately more for show and to give the folks on Dragon's Egg something to smile about.  I'd decided to go through with it and marry Simon in spite of any misgivings.  The Shepherd's ceremony was right shiny, actually.  Some pretty words.  Vows that, in some cases, almost made me giggle.  Us standing initially on the wrong side, in part because the first time I got hitched I was the one in the Uniform.  It was all good.  Everyone happy.  Even me.

We didn't stay over long at the reception.  Neither of us had time of a real honeymoon just yet.  Too much to do, too little time.  But the wedding night would be . . . interesting.   While I would have preferred to have our first night doing more than actually sleeping be before we were wed, I was willing to train him up right.  Just had to hope he had the stamina and enthusiasm to make up for a lack of experience.

More then for cover
Affection growing to love
Married once again

Weddings and other complications

Two days.

What is that old saying about not having enough time to do everything you need to get done?  Tak mnogo sdelatʹ i tak malo vremeni , chtoby sdelatʹ eto.  Simon's return to Dragon's Egg, not long after my own, has set things in motion I hadn't quite been prepared for.  Not that I couldn't adapt.  It was just some unexpected details.

The wedding was actually the simple part.  Never mind I hadn't quite gotten what I was hoping for.  I finally understood just why he'd been so reluctant to take me to bed.  At least for anything but actual sleep.  While we had quite different views on casual sex, as any of the Companions I'd enjoyed over the years could attest, I couldn't actually fault him for it.  He was a good man.  A Spook like me, but still, deep down, a good man.

The ceremony here would be small.  Not quite a drop in on New Vegas, but close.  The Shepherd would officiate and we'd have at least one official witness.  Not that the legalities of it would be in question.  We could deal with that with a gesture or three.  There'd probably be another one on Ariel to satisfy my folks, much like the last time.  Only this time I'd be wearing the dress.  Simon's Grandmother's wedding gown, in fact.  Evidently on its way and already recut for me, though I have to wonder how much fabric got sliced out.

Doesn't help that I'm the average size of a ten year old girl.

Except for the curves.

Seemed likely that whoever was around would come to see the event.  While I wasn't much involved with the local goings on, there were still a fair number of folk who remembered the days on Hale's Moon and some of the colony elders still considered me amongst  their number. For better or worse, I was still part of the show.

Only thing I wouldn't want was those Cerberus ass clowns providing "security" at my wedding.  Last thing I needed was some combat happy mercenary making a nuisance of itself.  If I wanted actual "security" I could have a platoon of Alliance Marines as an honor guard, complete with a Brigadier General giving them their orders.  Or maybe a ranking Diplomat or too.  That'd be right amusing:  "Sorry.  Your services won't be required.  We will have actual soldiers in attendance."

The timing, of course, was the sticking point.  Or, rather, why we were on the two day timetable.

It seemed there were a few problems with trying to glean important information from the seas of my feeds.  Especially when the one entity that could hide things in the streams was making an effort to do just that.  It was something I'd well known Blue was capable of and, on some level, suspected he was doing.  At least in some circumstances.

The why of it I was yet to fathom. Unless I had grievously misjudged the big AI, he wasn't doing hiding some of these actions to hurt me.  In fact, given his previous actions, it seemed that if anything, he would be intervening to protect me.  But from what?  Or, who, rather.

Whatever was going on tied back to Lily.  That much I learned quickly from Simon's tour of x0x0's comms hub.  Whatever was going on, x0x0 was redressing the feeds between Lily's continuous transmissions and who, or what, ever was receiving them.  It was a relatively complex rouse and, for the time being, I didn't know who it was directed to.

That it was hidden from me attested to x0x0's own technical skills and Blue's intervention.  Though Blue himself was a product of x0x0's considerable technical skill.  When it came to AI, certainly, she was a good deal better than I was.

The who, though, I would deal with in short order.  With x0x0 herself out of action, Simon wanted me to step in and take her place - massaging Lily's feeds so whoever got them continued to find them, and thus her, useful to their needs.  Never mind that Mindo was dead, and his project dead with him.  Never mind that Blue himself, and x0x0, knew Lily's feeds were hoarked.  Someone was interested.  And as long as they remained interested, Lily would continue being.

Two days.

Two days before we'd gotten hitched, the 'interested party' was back to looking at these feeds, and Simon was back to an Op.

Coincidence?

No.

Not in our world.  Things like this don't just happen.  They happen for a reason, and someone was behind the scenes pulling the strings.

That was fine.  Soon enough I'd know who it was.  But, in the mean time, I had work to do a a wedding to attend, and a wedding night to show Simon just what he'd gotten himself into.  Just needed to get a few things from my boat and to set up a couple of tightly encrypted, and obfuscated, cross feeds of my own.

Reflecting in darkness

"Simon did not accompany you.  I had assumed he knew enough of our operation to join us here, especially with the impending wedding.  Was I wrong?"  Captain Hawke's voice was soft and proper, as always.  Almost a purr.  Both soothing and disconcerting at the same time, with an air of command.  He and my Grandfather would have spoken as equals.

"Simon was called away.  More business.  And, yes.  He knows enough to come join us here, even if we're not entirely on the same page with where I want this to go.  Why do you ask, Captain?"

He stepped up next to me in the observation blister above Saule Silencieuse's hanger deck, gazing out the port at the bright distant point of Kalidasa visible between two of the deployed baffles.  "You are unsure, Colonel.  Worried about the decision to marry again.  Worried whether we are doing the right thing.  I would assume, also, worried for your adoptive children."

I looked at him for a long moment, suppressing a frown.  He had called it distressingly close to the mark.  "I didn't know you were a Reader, Captain, or that my own self control had slipped that far."

A faint smile crossed his lips, not looking down to meet my eyes.  "Neither, Colonel Kawanishi.  I am intuitive, however, and have made something of a study of you over the time we have worked together.  You do not deny my assessment, which makes me believe my concern for you is justified."

"Concern for me?  I'm flattered, Captain."

"Colonel. . . Seana.  We have known each other for some years now.  I have grown to respect you both as an Officer and as a Person.  As an Officer on your executive staff, observing that you are troubled, I believe it is my duty to help you deal with your troubles.  As a Person . . . I do not like to see a friend in pain."

"We count as friends now?" I asked with a hint of amusement.  We were close professionally, but socially?

"Yes."

He stated it with absolute certainty, as if the fact was self evident.  I suppose, on some level, it was.  "Nous affirmons que ce qui est évident, eh?  Though you're right.  On most counts, anyway.  The wedding and the girls certainly.  The mission though?  I have no doubts.  I know we are doing the right thing.  Even with that sadistic old bastard."

"Good.  You know that is why remain, yes?  The Crew believes in me.  I, in turn, believe in you.  It is why we have dropped off the grid and effectively gone rogue.  In fact . . . " he paused again, waving his hand to bring up a ghostly image in front of the view port.  "I believe, we are very close to solving another issue before it comes up."

On the display, a series of orders and authorizations - not yet implemented - filled the display.  My own "official" retirement documentation, releasing me with the final rank of Colonel in an honorable discharge with full benefits.  Similar orders for Captain Hawke and several of his officers, and the piece de resistance, orders releasing Saule Silencieuse as an independent asset with an ambiguous disposition.

None of the orders had been filed, though my own retirement was just a matter of a signature at this point, and there were a few crucial signatures missing.  "Impressive.  Looks like about eighty percent of this paperwork is actually legitimate.  Nice work.  We're going to make a very expensive military asset disappear.  Though I see there's no authorization for the ship herself."

He nodded, bringing up more of the documentation, focusing on the authorization chain.  "There is none, as yet.  Unfortunately, we need someone to die before we can properly execute this."

"Someone who will conveniently be unavailable to answer for it when the Auditors ask what happened to this ship and her crew?"  His faint smile was as good as a yes.  "Taggart has probably known this was coming for a while, I'm sure.  Probably planned for it.  So who's span are we waiting for the end of?"

"There are several people with the authorization to release the ship who are also, potentially, looking at a short span.  We are watching, though, without your express authorization we do not plan to . . . expedite the process.  Once it happens, we can retcon our status as needed."

I had to laugh.  Assassination was almost always an option in the Intel community, but he know I wanted to keep our collective hands clean.  "Very well, Captain.  Let me know when someone dies, will you?"

"Of course, Colonel."

For a noble cause
Plans nested in other plans
Converging in time
 

Manipulations from the Deep Black

With her dampers deployed, Saule Silencieuse was effectively invisible.  Even floating in the middle of a gossamer parabolic dish five thousand meters across, the ELINT Corvette was a ghost.  She couldn't do much more than float there, of course, in a heliocentric orbit 3 AU out from Kalidasa, without increasing her signature.  But she didn't need to.  The big dish let her listen in to the Cortex, parsing the signal.  And, as they say, the signal went everywhere.

Getting to and from the ship was actually the biggest challenge.  Even Wave Equation, my ELINT Matagi, had to use some technical tricks to minimize my signature on approach and departure.  But it was all worth it.  An invisible cortex hub in the deep black.

Silent.

Watching.

I had crossed the New Year celebration here, aboard this little bubble of air in the void of space, surrounded by the flow of information and raw data that made up my trade now.  And the people.  The handful of men and women at the core of my operation, manning this ship, managing the feeds and the people, separated by several layers of abstraction, that did the field work and interfaced with other Intel organizations.

The web had grown since I started it.  The raw information was, ultimately, more than we could process aboard Saule Silencieuse.  While she was an enormously capable craft, dedicated to this sort of work, we'd outgrown even her exceptional capacity.  That was one of the reasons I was here now.  To plan for the future.  And, ultimately, to put some of the information we'd gleaned to use for a very special purpose.

The New Years party was . . . compact.  A bit of revelry, watching the 'ball drop' feeds from a dozen worlds, seeing my team enjoying the moment, even as I felt alone in their midst.  In a way it was funny.  We kept to the calendar of Earth that Was, though no world in the 'Verse actually shared its 365.25 standard 24 hour days.  It was just a tradition.  Like the Shepherd's "Holiday" celebrations having a winter theme, even though the local season might be something completely different.

That little celebration wasn't why I was here, of course.  Catching up on the projects was why I was here.  Getting updates on how we were warehousing our data off-board, securely and discretely, was a major theme.  That, and the acquisition of more working space for our future growth.  To that end, we had taken control of an abandoned transfer station and started the slow process of moving it to a better location, while at the same time removing it from the collective memory of the Cortex.

It helped that the facility had been mostly abandoned for decades.  Built to support trade between the Border and Rim colonies over a century ago, the changing face of interplanetary commerce had left it behind.  Literally.  Most navigational charts, if they even included it, showed it as "Abandoned: Non-operational.  No services."  During the war, it had served as a way point for refugees.  Since?  Nothing.  Which made it a perfect starting point for my project.

While I could have appropriated a modular station like the one we'd had above Hale's Moon, there would be a paper trail linking it to me.  The same would apply to any other modern facility we had to acquire and deploy.  By re-purposing an abandoned structure, we were both saving resources and making our actions harder to trace.

It would be some time before we were ready to occupy it with anything but the restoration crew, and several years before we managed to re-position it into a new orbit around Kalidasa with low signature tugs, but when it was done it would be perfect.  Large enough for our needs and completely off the radar.  My kind of place.

But that was a long term concern.  At the moment, I had something more personal to attend to.


Historically, we had let the data flow in from where it would.  Sometimes parsing down interesting trails to glean secrets that may prove useful, but often just gathering and cataloging.  Some of it, we sold to support the operation, but always with an eye to the effect it would have.  I wasn't doing this to get rich.  I was doing it because I wanted to do some right in the Verse.  Now, though, I had a purpose.  And a very specific effect in mind.

A right in the 'Verse.

Adelai Niska, in spite of his self proclaimed "reputation," was little more than a petty crime lord, and noted sadist, based in the Rim.  I'd dealt with his machinations before on Hale's Moon and sent a couple of his goons home in a box.  One box.  Saved on shipping.  He still drew breath because some people in power found him "useful" and I'd been specifically asked to let him keep breathing.  Since I didn't want to burn those particular bridges by ending the old goat, I'd acquiesced and let him be.

Now though, it was time to play the game a little differently.  First, I needed to know who found him useful, and why.  Then I could look to manipulating things to make him appear considerably less useful to his benefactors and, from there, proceed to grind his carefully groomed reputation to dust.

It was something specific to focus the team on.  Exercise our targeted information gathering and leverage our contacts, while practicing the fine arts of deception and obfuscation.  Information Ninja in the tangled webs of the Cortex.  It was something we'd been building for and, now, time to move into action.

He would expect me to fire a crowbar through his skyplex.

This, he would never see coming.
 
Meddle not in the affairs of Dragons.  
For they are subtle and quick to anger.
And you are small and crunchy and taste good with ketchup.