Grand opening

I'm not entirely sure how they managed to acquire the installation, or from whom, but I have to say they did a nice job with it. Though, to be honest, I'd have thought the Companion's Guild, or whoever's actually behind the place, would have wanted a location a bit closer to the main trade lanes. Hale's Moon is anything but. Though I suppose if you wanted to take a surplus block-sized grav lifter and put it under a medium sized apartment block, there were worse places to do it.

Who was I kidding? If you had one of those things you'd be using it to build a floating estate on a world that could actually appreciate such a thing. Out here on the Rim, it was just technological overkill. A platform that would leave the locals scratching their heads wondering why such a thing would be here, of all places.

Not that it wasn't the spiffiest place on, or just over, Hale's Moon. It traveled, albeit slowly, over a section of our Outback regions. Technically, it was subject to the Colonial Government. But, being more vehicle than homestead, it fell under a different set of governing parameters. Unless they drove it within, say, fifty clicks of the colony proper, the Alliance force would probably leave them alone.

Probably.

There was no guarantee that they'd leave the installation alone, though, given their recent stance on 'corporate assets' and the simple fact that the 'anonymous donor' must have had considerable resources, it stood to reason that they would try not to annoy the benefactor. A soldier never knew when some politician would take offense to the job they were paid to do, so there were times you trod with care.

Working in our favor, it looked like Owl would be taking over as the place's on-site manager. She wasn't a Companion. Or a whore. She was a spook. Or had been, when we'd worked together in days gone by. It had been a complicated relationship. Sometimes at odds. Sometimes working towards common ends. Rarely on a simple assignment.

I think she holds her memories of those Ops more fondly than I do. I was a different person then. The Ice Queen. I'd done the operations with a kind of clinical detachment, not really involved in the emotional flow of the people around me. In some ways, it had been a blessing. The detachment meant I didn't have any personal involvement with the lives I was tangling with, or the outcomes of the Op. I went in. Did the job. Left. Move on to the next assignment, wherever it might be. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

We'd come out of it something like friends. Not exactly close, but we'd established a professional relationship that worked for us. It still did. Her taking on Management of the roving Companion Hotel would put her right in the middle of an Intel rich environment and would give me a known asset in a valuable position. I would have to make it worth her while, but that went without saying. We were spooks. We knew how the game was played.

Lily'd assembled a rather lavish shindig for the floating hotel's grand opening and, to be very honest, I was proud of her. While I hadn't been entirely comfortable in the party environment, it had been a bright spot to take my mind off the political situation on the ground. And there were some good people to mix and mingle with. Even saw Reese in finery, and Krenshar put on "the good skin." So to speak.

There are some high hopes for the place.

I hope they come to fruition.

Home to tradition
Companions float in the sky
Arid rocks below

Introductions

She's roughly my age, several inches taller, proportionately heavier, and rather pretty. Dark red hair, green eyes. Her name is Bethany Lionheart. She's the Liaison Officer the Alliance has sent to be the conduit between what remains of our colonial government and her handlers in High Command and the Diplomatic Corps. She's radiating a cheerful confidence born from having the might of the United Alliance of Planets at her back.

She's come to my new office on the orbital to explain to me how things are going to be, and that I shouldn't worry at all about the transition. The Alliance is just here until things calm down enough for them to give us our colony back. She lies, and she's good at it, but may not even realize that her statement is a lie. If you believe something is true, even when it is not, are you a liar when tell someone what you believe?

She's a diplomat. A former soldier. Made it to full Lieutenant as a navigator on a patrol frigate before taking a liaison position between the Defense Department and the Corps Diplomatique. Now, part of the corps, she thinks we're alone and that she has the upper hand in this conversation.

She is wrong. On both counts.

I am almost never alone. The Frame behind my desk looks like a century old antique. Most people think it's the best we could scrounge up to run or enhancements to the local Navtrak arrays, but looks can be deceiving. Inside that obsolete looking shell is the heart of a current generation university SuperFrame. It has considerably more processing power than the patrol frigate that brought her here, and a friend of mine sometimes calls it home. His name is Blue. He's watching me, as I watch her.

I'm sure she's been briefed on what to expect here, but that briefing inevitably left out some important information. It had to. There are facts the Diplomats just don't have. Facts I feel no obligation to reveal to this woman just yet. She's doing me the courtesy of not treating me like some Rim world yamazaru. She no doubt knows I was in the service and that it is no coincidence that my family name is the same as that on the station. Those facts are basic. Matters of public record. She also no doubt knows that Blue Sun's installation on Hale's Moon's surface is the personal headquarters of one of Blue Sun's top executives, and that there are a broad range of rumors about the personal and professional relationships between us. I suspect she is smart enough to discount the rumors.

I'm cordial with her. There's no reason not to be. The Alliance is loathe to interfere with the corporate assets on Hale's Moon, there's too many repercussions if they do. The risks outweigh the gains and there are some risks they're unwilling to take. The colonists are a different matter, much easier to bully, but there is a balance. They know that. It's why the sent a Diplomat.

I listen to her explanation, answer her few questions, and ask a few carefully crafted questions of my own. A practiced diplomat, she reveals little and I don't probe deeply. Social Engineering is not my forte, so I will leave my deeper questions for other times and other channels.

Satisfied she's handled the pleasantries and introductions appropriately, she departs, taking a small shuttle to the waiting Abraham Sinkov and leaving me in peace. I am sure that within the hour, she'll have filed a report with her superiors explaining that she's made the formal introductions but isn't convinced she'll get our full cooperation.

I'll intercept it later.

Right now, I have other things to attend to.

The one wherein politics gets reshaped in the name of expediency

I'd received a number of waves during my fast burn across the Black from Londinium. Most of them were from concerned citizens who wanted to hear it from me directly, that the colony would be OK. I told them what Genni had told them. As long as Colonel Silvermane was in charge of the unit patrolling our little slice of Heaven, the Alliance would act civil. Maybe not always so nice, but at least civil. We don't give them cause to get violent, and they'll act righteous.

At least I expected them to. Of course, I had a different view of the Alliance military than most Rimworld colonists did. I also had a different relationship with Colonel Silvermane than did other folk. I'd worked hard to establish a civil relationship with her after the fiasco of Loyalist influence on the Sun Tzu.

The problem was, she was subject to orders from a chain of command that still had a measurable Hardliner influence. Worse, a little checking found that she was already being considered for a promotion to Brigadier General, which would almost certainly mean her being moved up from Regimental Command to Brigade level, and away from the 1st Marine Raiders.

Couldn't fault her for it when it came to pass. Good soldier. Deserved it. But it would leave us in the position of dealing with a new Commanding Officer for the 1st. Even if they left Lieutenant Xeltentat in charge of the platoon on the Sinkov, there was no guarantee his new CO wouldn't change their standing orders. The only real hope we had was to have the Martial Law situation resolved before anything changed in the Alliance's local structure.

Resolving the Martial law situation though, was looking problematic. Things were still reasonably calm. No one had been shot yet. At least that I'd been told about, but the wave from the Colonel didn't bode well.

""Mayor Kawanishi? I've got some official news. This is being recorded." she started out, the formal tone alone enough to tell me what was coming next.

"Go ahead, Colonel."

"Per instruction from Sector Command, and under the auspices of the Colonial Charter Board, the Hale's Moon Colonial Government is being suspended until further notice. Until order is restored to the satisfaction of Alliance Authorities, the existing government will serve in an advisory capacity through a Liaison Officer. All government functions will be in the hands of the Alliance. Your cooperation is appreciated."

"I understand, Colonel. I'm assuming the transition will be complete before I make it home?" I kept my voice calm, though I'd been prepared for such a contingency. There'd been situations in the past where local government had been suspended, though usually because there was some sort of active insurgency on the colony. That wasn't the case here, but I couldn't ask.

Yet.

"That is the plan, Madam Mayor. Thank you for your cooperation." She paused a moment, looking away from the iris, then the 'recording' light and 'open channel' warnings went off, switching us to a secure link.

"I'm sorry, Seana. This came down from several steps above my pay grade." She looked genuinely upset by the situation. Our recent meetings hadn't made us friends, but they'd established a different level of working relationship.

"I'm not entirely surprised, Corrine. Given the history out here, I'm actually a little surprised no one made a grab for us earlier. Situation's still status quo for the Orbital?"

"Affirmative. Corporate assets are being treated with kid gloves. Blue Sun and Kawanishi Heavy Industries have enough influence that High Command is reluctant to disrupt operations out here. Though Blue Sun's facilities are on the surface, so they'll probably feel more scrutiny. "

I paused, then nodded. Even the Hardliners were reluctant to offend the corporate powerhouses for fear of repercussions. Hell, for all we knew at this point, this could be coming down from pressure from one of Blue Sun's internal factions. Not everyone there was happy with x0x0 in an executive position.

"Thanks for keeping me in the loop. Can you send your liaison officer by the orbital? I'll have my secretary move my kit out of the office and up to the station."

The Colonel acknowledged and signed off, leaving me with a mildly disturbed feeling deep in the Black. Genni already had instructions on how to deal with our systems if something like this ever happened, and I expected a wave from her within minutes of the Town Elders being told the news.

Still, it wasn't all bad. They hadn't decided to issue arrest warrants for the entire local government, something that had also happened in the past. But given the documented levels of cooperation, it would have been hard to pull off without raising some eyebrows. Even if Hale's Moon was a bump on the butt of the 'Verse, a couple of major corporations had interests in the colony and they'd raise a stink in Parliament even if no one there had even heard of our little slice of heaven.

For the time being, I was officially out of a job. Would be a great excuse for a vacation. Unfortunately, being out of one job meant I would have to do some serious work on the other.

Someone would be displeased by where this was going.

I would make sure of that.

A funny thing happened on the way to Londinium

I would say that things were never supposed to get this complicated, but then I would be lieing. I'm in Intel. Things are supposed to be this complicated. It was the nature of our business. I could have retired and driven a desk at KHI headquarters on Ariel, which would have been a different kind of stress but a good deal less complicated. A decision I was comfortable, if sometimes frustrated, with.

It would have been nice to spend some actual time relaxing on Persephone, or Ariel. As it was, the time I got to spend with Friends, Family, and Mate, was all too brief. The situation developing on Hale's Moon meant I barely had time to meet with my contacts and the General before I'd be burning my way back out to Kalidasa.

If nothing else though, I did get to enjoy relating my encounters on Persephone to Sabrina over the course of dinner. She was more upset that she hadn't been there to participate in the ass whuping than she was that I'd put myself in harm's way. Again. But that was the nature of our relationship. Neither of us was especially interested in playing things safe.

My meetings with contacts on Persephone went surprisingly smoothly, as did my face to face meeting with General Taggart. Bright spots in a trip overwhelmed by a series of unfortunate events on Hale's.

As a spook, I'd never been primarily a 'Liveware' specialist. I was more likely to beat information out of a contact than talk it out of them, which was why I'd been a tactical and technical asset rather than a Soft. Taggart'd called me in to his office to give me a better idea of what he expected of my role, kind of defining the line between my doing things myself and calling in dedicated field assets to do the head busting for me. Somehow, I suppose, he figured that a face to face would be better than a secure bridge.

Maybe it was. But the timing could have been better. Not that I could blame him for what happened. It's not like he knew my daughter was going to set a building on fire, or a rock was going to hit the colony. The Martial Law thing he was aware of, but it wasn't in his purview, or mine, to interfere.

The Orbital was a different matter. Since the agreement had been between the Town Elders and KHI, things could change under the Martial Law situation. As an independent commercial facility, the Alliance would leave it pretty much alone. They'd dock as usual, do their usual inspections, and refuel and resupply as normal. They just wouldn't be able to enforce martial law because, technically, the installation wasn't actually owned by the colony. There was just a financial agreement.

That would work to my favor. I'd already set up the communications I needed to move my office up there. If things got too sticky on the surface, I could simply move. It would make my work easier in any case.

But that was all something to deal with during my flight back home.

At full burn.

Letters from home

Eavesdown Docks were a bustle of activity. Not really surprising, considering the breadth of docking bays, landing pads, shanties, markets, and everything else that made up the sprawling facility. Technically, Eavesdown was a minor port in the grand scheme of Persephone's commercial shipping activities. But that technicality belied the fact that there were more people living and working in this port-that-was-a-city than lived on the surface of most Border and Rim colonies.

I'd left messages for a number of my friends based here, including Imrhien and Jai, though I hadn't gotten an acknowledgement back from either of them as yet. Considering how busy both were with their own endeavors, I wasn't worrying about it. If I caught up with them, great. If not, there would be other opportunities.

While I'd reached the general vicinity of the area of both old friends and my primary contact, my timing appeared to be somewhat off. So, with a few hours to kill, and relax after dealing with a couple of local manuke, I settled in to try what locally passed for coffee and catch up on a few of the waves that had come in.

I'd talked to Genni Foxtrot on the way in about how to deal with the aftermath of the fire and the rock strike in town. She'd gotten good at her job, so I had faith in her ability to handle it. Most of the locals were used to her handling the colony's administrative duties and speaking in my stead when the need arose. But dealing with the Alliance was a different animal entirely.

Things had gotten out of hand in my absence. The Sheriff's department was completely overwhelmed, and the Militia was too busy helping deal with the damage to do a lot of policing on their own. While long term colonists wouldn't even consider stealing from each other, as their survival was too intertwined, some of the newer arrivals didn't have that same sense of community. The colony had grown a lot since I'd taken office and some of that growth had gotten unhealthy.

But Martial Law?

Not good. Silvermane had at least brought relief supplies when she'd come down with a contingent from the IAV Abraham Sinkov, and done us the kindness of assigning Lieutenant Xeltentat and his platoon as the main force. But I knew how this worked. The Sinkov was on rotation. There'd be times some other Frigate or patrol boat would be darkening our skies, and we knew full well that not all of the Platoon leaders were quite so civil when it came to dealing with colonists.

I'd get a wave off to Colonel Silvermane and find out what her plans were. She was a good soldier and took her job seriously, but it was also a big job and dealing with a mess on my little slice of heaven was probably a bit of an annoyance.

Having troops on the surface simplified my position in Intel, but radically complicated my job as Mayor of the colony and de-facto governor of Hale's Moon.

Just what I needed.

Could the timing have been worse?

A funny thing happened on the way to the bauhaus

I probably should have known that walking from the peripheral landing pads into the center of Eavesdown docks wouldn't be entirely uneventful. It wasn't like I had a hovering, illuminated, sign over my head that read "This woman is a combat veteran and can probably hand you your ass." No. Even with the Fifty I usually had strapped to my hip, or the forearm long hunk of steel in a scabbard, I was still barely a hundred forty seven centimeters tall and maybe forty one kilos, soaking wet, I wasn't intimidating. At least to look at. From a distance, anyway.

A lot of high population worlds showed a quite some variety and broad stratification in their local cultures. On Persephone, it might have been a little exaggerated. Though no more so than on parts of Londinium and Sinhon. Eavesdown was one of the places where it showed through. Catering more to tramp freighters, independent transports, and no questions asked charters, than to liners and scheduled traders, the docks were a microcosm of 'Verse culture. You could find some of the best people, and the worst people, the 'Verse had to offer between the landing pads, loading bays, market stalls, and people living in left over shipping containers.

The docks were a huge contrast to the luxuries the local planetary nobility surrounded itself with, yet I was as at-home here as I would have been in some Noble's chateau. More so, perhaps.

Feeling comfortable in an environment also, often, includes knowing what to expect from said environment and being prepared to deal with it appropriately. In this case, it was someone who appeared to notice 'Small in stature' rather than 'well armed.'

"Wha' 'ave we got here, mates?" coming from the man who'd been following me for half a block was the first indication something was slightly amiss. I slowed my pace, half turning my head towards the voice more to let him know I'd noticed than because I wasn't aware of his presence. A bit under two meters, reasonably muscled under a slightly portly frame, dressed for the climate and circumstance. He carried himself like he was used to people getting out of his way, reinforced by his two doubou in tow.

"Donno' Raich. Li'l lady looks lost." from one of his partners, a skinny middle aged man who looked like he'd been on the losing end of a few too many scraps between the containers. Neither of them appeared armed with anything more dangerous than a knife, though their third, a short, scared looking kid, had a bulge under his belt that indicated a medium sized hand gun carried in the 'shoot yourself in the plums' position.

"Lost? No, why? Are you offering directions?" I replied cheerfully, stopping and turning slightly to keep the Fifty on the far side of the three kusemono. The leader was probably expecting me to react with fear or, at least, hesitation. For most people, it would have been a prudent reaction. In any situation like this, you had to quickly assess your options. Run. Fight. Talk your way out. Or some combination of the three. In this case, I'd already assessed my options and the likely outcome of the encounter.

Plainly, "amused smartass" was not the reaction he expected. He probably thought the gun on my hip, if he'd even seen it, was there for show rather than as something I was likely to actually use. A mistake that, hopefully, for him at least, would not be fatal.

"Ain't got no directions, li'l lady. Unless ya've got a mind to be followin' 'em, if ya get my meanin'," he said with an unpleasant chuckle, the kid staying back as he and his friend got a bit closer. I could see the few people on this little stretch of ally fading back, not wanting to get involved if it got unpleasant.

"Oh, I follow. Though can't say I'm a big fan of taking that sort of direction. So, if you boys will excuse me?" I replied cheerfully, half turning as if to walk off, knowing there were several ways it could go now and expecting the worst.

There are times I wish I was wrong about these things.

I could hear them start their rush, even if the big guy hadn't muttered an excited "Git 'er!" to his doubou. Clumsy. Loud. Street thugs.

As the big guy closed, I side stepped and rotated quickly to drive my knuckles into his sternum, quickly rotating back and clear as he collapsed to the sound of cracking bone. His onrushing partner served to block the line of sight of the kid with his gun as I lashed out with a boot into his knee, sending him sprawling.

"Son. Draw that gun and I'll end you here. Verstanden?"

He hesitated a moment, then drew his hand from his pants where the piece had slipped and made it look like he was fondling himself. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good move. Now, collect your friends and go on home. Don't even have to tell anyone they got beat by a girl my size." I said cheerfully as his two friends writhed on the ground, one with a cracked sternum, the other probably unable to walk for several hours. The kid nodded, then stepped forward as I stepped away.

I half expected one of them to grab the kid's gun, but they only cast angry looks my way as I disappeared around the corner into the labyrinthine twists of the Downport's cargo-module shantytown and the kid helped them stagger back the way they'd come.

It'd be an amusing anecdote for Duncan if we manged to catch up before I left Persephone.

Crossing vectors

"Persephone orbital approach, this is Wave Equation, Ariel registry, kilo four seven niner echo hotel, requesting an approach vector for aero-breaking and a short final into Eavesdown docks."

It was just a formality, really. I was already on the vector I wanted with no traffic crossing my path. At least as long as no one did anything stupid. But with the amount of traffic in orbit and the recent mood I figured it was better to announce myself rather than just slink in like I usually did.

"Wave Equation, Niner echo hotel. Persephone approach. Approach clearance granted. Vector details incoming. Two minutes. Maintain your current vector pending the update and contact Eavesdown Approach on four three five point two."

"Copy that, Persephone Approach. Continue pending update and contact Eavesdown on four three five point two. Good day. Wave Equation clear."

Doing traffic control on the Rim, you almost forgot just how complex it could be. In the Black between worlds it was not an issue, but when you are approaching a heavily populated world, with thousands of spacecraft coming and going, there was an actual need for layered controls. Orbital approach, handing off to reentry approach, handing off to downport approach for wherever you were heading.

It was that way on any highly populated world. It had to be that way. Though there were still some good sized cracks to slip through if you were so inclined. This time, I'd chosen to stay out of the cracks.

Finding a berth at Eavesdown was trivial. They were equipped to handle everything from auxiliary skiffs to three hundred meter long bulk haulers, so finding space for something the size of a Matagi wasn't an issue. Which left me to just lock up, pay for the transient berth, toss some coin to a couple of the local port rats to look after her while I was gone, and make sure the security system's anti-personnel mode was "Deter:Stun" rather than the usual setting of "Deter:Incinerate" I used on the Rim.

The only down side to docking at the edge of the Docks sector was getting a ride into the center of the sprawling area. I could have carried a small skimmer or something aboard Wave Equation, but I'd never really seen the need. At least until now, when the choices for getting across toward the center of the Docks was walking, hailing a rickshaw, or riding a jitney.

Walking. Definitely walking. It'd give me a chance to encounter some of the local port life and plenty of time to kick off a wave.

"Duncan? This is Seana. I'm on Persephone for a couple days, starting out in Eavesdown. Be nice to see you if you're around. Get back to me, ok?"

That'd do it. I hoped. If not, there were other things I was here to handle. But catching some time with Duncan would make the entire trip a good deal more pleasant.