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.

Inward spirals

I've always liked Persephone from orbit. It's not the prettiest world, or the largest, or the most or least populated, or the most important. But it's always looked pretty from above. A pretty world. named for the Queen of the Underworld from an ancient myth from Earth that Was. Appropriate, really, considering its role as the unofficial gateway to the Core. Or the Border, depending on your perspective.

Like most high population Core worlds, Persephone had a fairly varied culture depending on where you set down. Unlike most, their local government included an actual "noble" class that was more than just for show. While I'd been raised to an equivalent social standing on Ariel where Olde Money was akin to power, I'd never been entirely comfortable in those circles. Too much pretense. Too little substance.

My interests weren't in the highly polished parts of the planet in any case. No, the people I wanted to talk to frequented the transport hubs rather than the commercial plazas. Especially the ones where Customs agents were scarce and questions were few. In this case, the big transhipment facilities at Eavesdown Docks.

Over the last few months, a number of my friends from the Rim had migrated inward with more than a fair share of them winding up at Eavesdown. I could understand the drive too. The transhipment ports on Persephone felt a fair bit like some of the busier Rimworld space ports. Plus Eavesdown was a bit, shall we say, loose, in their interpretation of local customs regulations and law enforcement. For most of the folk I knew who'd moved there, it would have felt like home.

That made this trip more Pleasure than Business, though I'd be mixing a little of both. Persephone was also a cultural and business hub, a stepping off point for far more than just hard goods. It was also home to a number of Intel assets I needed to catch up with before I talked to Taggart.

But that could wait. Before I got to work, I'd take some time and see some friends.

Do they just save it up until I'm gone?

There's kind of a legend you'll hear if you're around the large construction yards at all. It's the story of an Engineering technician who worked on one of the big orbital shipyard projects. Which shipyard, or whether it was actually a transfer station, or maybe a cargo facility, or something else, seems to change. But the gist of it goes he was working the station and a few hours after he signed out for a vacation, the station underwent structural failure. So he goes back to the project for the second build and, when he goes on vacation, the station comes apart. Again. So, third try, he decides to stay until they complete the thing. This time, he's there through opening day. Figures it's finally safe for him to leave and, within 24 hours of his shipping out, the place is blown up by terrorists. Seems the builders were stubborn about it. They built a fourth one. And this one's still there. Only, that Engineering tech is still aboard. Seems he knows the second he leaves, all hell's going to break loose.

There's days I feel like that.

No sooner than I get off the cortex with Major Siamendes' commanding officer, talking about her serving the warrant on Cody, then I get a wave from Genni Foxtrot. Now, Genni's got a temper. Fiery one at that. And right about now she's ready to lose it on the Sheriff. Seems in my absence, the town elders are giving him a lot of slack in how he handles the cleanup after the fire and the impactor. Part of his solution seems to be imposing a curfew on folks because, well, no one's exactly sure why. Didn't bother running it by my office, though I've got to hope he at least talked to the Elders.

I can understand he's having some issues with some of the transients and newer colonists looting the wrecked store, but imposing a curfew on folk who've been living on that little slice of Heaven for years? Not going to earn him many points if they actually decide to elect the next Sheriff rather than appointing him.

Told the Elders that Genni speaks for my office while I'm gone, but that doesn't seem to be mattering much. They didn't talk to her, and since Gallagher's managed not to get face to face with her, she can't give him a piece of her mind. Or a bullet. Which may be why he's been avoiding her. Though if that's the level of respect they're showing, I might just tender my resignation when I get back. No sense holding a meaningless title.

Though, in truth, the Office gives me a decent cover for my Intel work. Not that I actually need it. If they don't need my services that's fine too. I've already got office space staked out on the platform. I'll just move the Frame and the enhanced feeds up to the Orbital and do business as usual. Which, I had to admit, I wasn't finding especially engrossing. The Director's chair has Bureaucrat painted across its back in large, friendly, letters. You coordinate and manage people who coordinate and manage field assets. Sure. There's still the high level analyst functions, but that's not the same as being a field asset.

I'd discuss all that with Taggart when I got to my final destination. On the way? On the way I planned to make a couple of stops. The only reason to go back to Hale's Moon at this point would be to get Genni out of trouble for shooting Gallagher. Which hadn't happened. Yet. Any other plot ended poorly for one or more people and I didn't feel like dealing with that sort of complication. No, I'd use this as an opportunity to catch up with some long missed friends and, Buddha willing, a bit of vacation time with my wife.

Because, right now, it seemed Hale's Moon either needed me desperately or didn't need me much at all or. They just hadn't decided which.

The one wherein things happen in one place, while I am in a very different place

I hadn't really intended to head Coreward when I did. Certainly not while Lily's having, well, issues, and the town's still reeling from the fire she started. But some times, your other responsibilities force your hand. In this case, maneuvers happening on the political stage that required some face to face time with General Taggart.

On some levels, I'm torn. Part of me feels that by having to leave the Rim now is abandoning my little girls when they need me most. But another, more rational, part, understands that Lily and AuroraBlue need me less than I need them. I don't think either of them really see me as a parent. Which means that leaving them under the watchful eye of the other people who care for them while I'm gone doesn't really alter their risk.

Of course, it doesn't help that Krenshar's acting strangely and a small rock slipped through the net and managed to smack into the store right next to the apartment building Lily burned. I was about to turn around and go back to help when I got a wave from Genni that the Town Elders were dealing with it and I should continue on with whatever it was I was doing.

In my absence, Genni could speak for my office and the Elders had dealt with impactors for quite a span before I'd ever arrived, but it didn't make me feel any better. Hearing that some of the newer residents and transients had taken to looting didn't give me the warm fuzzies. Truth be known, I think Genni wanted me to stay away to keep me from personally getting Medieval on the looters.

I could only hope things were stable by the time I got back. I'd put a lot of effort the last couple years trying to improve the lot of Hale's Moon's colonists. They may not all have liked the higher level of law and order that'd slipped in on my watch, or making nice with the local Alliance command, but none of them complained about the improved standard of living.

Timing, once again

An inopportune absence

Survive without me

Firestarter revisited

I've never pretended that I could understand Lily's biology. Such as it was. She was synthetic and the best biochemist I knew was debating doing another Doctoral based on figuring out how she worked. Mindo, the man who created her, was half way to New Switzerland by now so our chances of ever really knowing were slim to none. Her psychology? Not quite so far beyond the edge of Human knowledge.

Technically, Lily was an AI. While she'd originally been programmed to work within a set range of parameters, she'd achieved full self awareness. She was "real" for all intents and purposes. There was a conscious Ghost in her pseudo-organic shell. That was something I could try and understand.

Her recent antics though, made little sense. The whole Ardra episode had confused the issue on multiple levels. x0x0'd managed to extract the parasitic fragment of Ardra's personality matrix from Lily's mind, but it had left my little girl unstable. Again. She'd reverted on multiple levels into, well, I wasn't entirely sure.

There'd been a period before when she'd stated lighting fires around town. It was a bid for attention. At least at some level. Then, as now, much of her mindset was that of a child. Setting something on fire wasn't actually that unusual for a kid, so we'd figured out how to deal with it. Though now, the behavior was different. This time she hadn't set a little fire in the corner. This time she'd burned up one of the residential buildings.

That, and she was stealing things.

Neither behavior was what I expected.

I gave Gallagher permission to lock her in one of the cells in our small jail. It wouldn't hold her if she decided to leave, but at least it would give the illusion that we had her under control. Gallagher, Krenshar, and Cody were all trying to talk to her. I tried too, but she didn't seem to notice me. Though, in truth, I never really did have that much influence over her. I'd adopted her, true. But I hadn't raised her and her maturity levels were rather haphazardly across the board.

Maybe she'd choose to talk to me. Maybe not.

There was some talk that she'd gotten herself addicted to a psychotropic drug from Al Raquis. Spice they called it. Though, as far as I knew, it was a locally occurring mineral they skimmed off the surface of the sand there. Not really a spice at all. Which was all the more confusing when you considered the fact that she wasn't exactly organic. How could she get addicted to something when she didn't have the biochemical or neural pathways to support addiction?

Almost makes me want to break into that case of Scotch Nack gave me. Almost. Only plus side right now is that 'Brina's back out our way for a little while. Elsoph's project had some down time, so she's got time to be here with me. Means if I break out anything alcoholic, it'll be the Gin. In moderation. With a very special presentation.

And then the Sheriff came back. . .

You'd have thought the Town Elders would have, at the very least, talked to me about something as subjectively important as reinstating the Sheriff after he'd resigned his post. Not that I especially minded them acting on their own in this case. I may not have always agreed with how he did his job, or even if he did his job, but the townsfolk seemed to like him and the Elders had their own reasons.

With the recent Reaver incidents and the Militia being forced to focus on them rather than the 'community patrol' duty none of them liked, I can understand folk wanting to have a full time lawman again. Whether we actually need one or not's not the issue so much as the perception that we do.

I still think it's funny that Hale's Moon didn't have a Sheriff until Genni Foxtrot shot me and we appointed Imrhien to the role. Seems Gallagher's lasted longest, in spite of everything that's happened on his watch. Not sure why law enforcement here's so hard on the folk that try and do it.

Still, the Town Elders letting him return takes some of the pressure off me. Plus it saves me having to hire on a constable or tender security contracts to whoever's looking to get one out this way. If he makes the townsfolk happy, good on him. Saves resources to try and find the new Reaver nest. Considering he resigned and I hadn't fired him, I don't even have to step into the argument. Anyone asks, the truth is he quit and the Elders let him take back his badge and gun. Didn't even ask me.

I can work with that.