The one wherein the Destiny Enclave is replaced by a large smoking crater...

If I said I was comfortable with everything that went on in the Enclave It'd be a lie. From the Casino that everyone knew about to the hidden genetic research laboratories that pretty much no one knew about, there were goings on behind the fence that never really sat well with me. Not that having it close enough to keep an eye on wasn't an advantage, but there were times the Risk vs Reward balance swung a bit too far towards the Risk side for my taste. Not to mention some of the residents having a separatist attitude that was kinda galling. Like it or not. Admit it or not. Their whole Gorram enclave existed because I convinced the council to let x0x0 alter our deal with Blue Sun.

Destiny existed because Blue Sun let 'em set up on their leased land. Blue Sun had land to sublease, because I convinced the Town Council it was a righteous idea.

Now, I didn't rightly mind an independent spirit. The folk on Hale's were right independent minded most of the time. But when you let refugees move in out of the kindness of your collective heart and some of them go out of their way to not make an effort to join your community? That's just not right. Hell. There were times a few of them seemed to go out of their way to make trouble. Threatening the Alliance with a nuke? Whole colony'd have been humped if we hadn't nipped that in the bud.

Suppose it's no surprise I didn't shed a tear when a low velocity rock center punched their landing pad. We'd gotten enough warning to know it's trajectory and knew it was big enough we couldn't alter its course. Numbers showed it'd hit like a tactical nuke. Five, maybe eight, kiloton yield. Enough energy to wreck everything in the immediate vicinity, but not enough kinetic energy to do more than shower the main colony with a layer of kicked up dust. There was also more than enough warning to let folk evac, so when it hit it didn't end anyone's span. Just made a royal mess of the compound.

Not to say that altering the surface like that didn't give me a twinge. The folk who'd lived in the Enclave had been through a lot. Life hadn't been exactly kind to them. Hell, the Replicants had evac'd Hale's to go to Caliban, only to have that settlement taken out by an Alliance Cruiser. To have their refuge here turned into a crater by a hunk of rock seemed like an ignoble end to Weyland Yutani's experiment in replacing human miners with machines.

But, in the end, they'd find themselves a new home. Any of them wanted to stay on Hale's Moon and join the folks who called our little slice of Heaven home, more power to 'em. We'd welcome them. They wanted to set out for other parts of the 'Verse? We'd wish them the best.

If it ever came up again, I was right sure we'd think hard before offering large scale refuge to folk who don't show an interest in integrating with the people already here. History's had its share of examples and, unfortunately, we hadn't paid quite enough attention to them.

Wouldn't happen again.

Or, more correctly, if it did, it wouldn't be because I'd let it. Only trouble now, was finding resources in town willing to help them clean up their mess.

Laika Day

Having Haley curled up on her pillow next to my desk, snoring merrily along in her sleep, brought Nora's reminder early this morning home. On the Old Calendar, reflecting dates and holidays and significant events from Earth that Was, today was 3 November. Just another day for more or less everyone in the 'Verse.

Only, it wasn't.

With several thousand years of recorded history, albeit with some gaps and omissions, and only 365 days in a standard Earth that Was year, there are bound to be multiple events with significance to multiple groups on pretty much every day on the calendar. That's just statistics. Like the random chance of having two people in the same class with the same birthday. On most calendars, there's nothing special about 3 November. But 3 November, 1957, was the first time a living creature from Earth flew into space.

Her name's remembered as Laika. She was a mongrel dog the Russians found in Moscow, and they sent her into space partially for Science and partially as a publicity stunt. I can barely imagine what it must have been like back then. Clawing into orbit on chemically fueled rockets that were built so light, they were likely to fall apart from their own thrust. Some of them did fall apart in flight. Or exploded at launch. Or tumbled out of the sky and killed their crew.

It was a different time then. Primitive technologies and political systems on the brink of global war. The politics may not be so unlike they are today, but now days when your dog flies into orbit she's probably curled up in your lap, or in the galley begging for snacks, not strapped into a metal capsule scared and alone.

It's so easy for us, now, to forget. But for some strange reason, I don't. There's nothing special to do on Laika day, except maybe give your favorite dog an extra treat.

And to remember Laika.

Change of tempo

It had been a while since I was a regular at Firefly's. When 'Brina left for Ariel I lost my dance partner and, to be honest, we hadn't been as social at the bar in the previous months in any case. And no, it wasn't because I thought I'd been snubbed by never being featured in any of the bar's calendar's over the years.

Still, the bar had always attracted a broad range of folk and I was quite fond of many of them. They'd always billed themselves as the friendliest bar in the 'Verse and, while it was debatable, the claim did have more than a little merit. I'd met my wife in Firefly's back when it was on Blackburne, and sparked off more than one friendship, so the place would always have a reservation in my heart.

Thing was, since 'Brina had gone off to work on a special project with Uncle Elsoph, I'd been a bit lonesome. Not the 'defining characteristic' level of lonesome it had been when I'd gotten to Hale's Moon in the first place, but I was critically aware that I was sharing my room with a Beagle rather than a Beagle and my wife. While Haley was adorable, she did snore, and her nose was cold, and there were some needs a dog, no matter how affectionate, just couldn't fulfill.

I'd gone back to Firefly's on a lark. Taking the shuttle down from the Orbital to see who was around on one of the nights when Gray was spinning the tunes. Wednesday nights are usually quieter than the weekends, which kind of fit my mood. I wasn't really looking for anything, except, maybe, a distraction from being alone in my office in orbit.

I was actually mildly surprised to see Raids there in the bar. It had been a while since I'd seen her, though I tried to keep tabs on her and had made an effort to tell the Alliance patrols that she was legally a citizen and entitled to the same protection and respect that everyone else on the colony deserved. That, and if they pissed her off, I wouldn't be responsible for their medical bills.

Raids asked me if I was aware of another mechanical on the Colony, other than herself and Krenshar. It seemed she'd encountered another inorganic and was curious as to its status. It was, honestly, the first I'd heard of it, which came as something of a surprise. I was generally pretty good about keeping track of the 'unusual entries' to the colony.

She had the impression that this new mechanical had come in on a boat, rather than being the spawn of our remaining Mother Bot. More of a utility model than a combat unit. I was perfectly happy to trust Raids to look into this new machine, though I'd look myself as well and check with others on the ground. The more information we had, the better. If it was just another sophisticated machine, not so much to worry about. If it was another development of the Mother? Different story.

What really surprised me was when Raids asked me to dance. Considering where my head had been for the last week or two, it was a welcome invitation. Also a pleasant surprise to find that Raids was a superbly graceful dancer. I'd seen her in combat before, of course. The four purely mechanical arms, tipped with razor sharp talons, moving like a threshing machine, mowing down anything unfortunate enough to get in their way. She was strong and blindingly fast, but also graceful and lithe.

Maybe it wasn't a surprise that she was an excellent dancer. Though I had to admit, at some level, it was funny that the only person here who'd ask me to dance, with 'Brina gone, was our resident 'reformed' killing machine. In some ways though, it made perfect sense. Raids and I shared a similar situation. Though I'd never entirely understood it, I'd been told that many of the Men and quite a few of the Women found me intimidating. All 41 kilos of me. Understood or not, it did explain why I'd been alone so long before 'Brina. For Raids, the difficulty finding a dance partner was a little easier to understand. Not everyone was comfortable with the idea of a sentient machine, and her origin as a combat model frankly scared a few people.

Fortunate, then, that I wasn't scared of Raids.

If I had been, I'd never have found out how good a dancer she is.

I'd taken a risk in accepting her as one of us. The town council had gone along with me then and, now, without a doubt, I knew it was the right path. Raids wasn't Human. She never would be, and that didn't matter in the least. She was one of us. She'd proven that as I always believed she would.

She was also one hell of a dancer.

There it goes . . .

I'd been waiting for the other shoe. I knew it was coming. I always know that it's coming. It's just the way things are. Especially out here, where we seem to live in an Enhanced Improbability Field. Assuming there actually is such a thing, which there probably isn't. But it makes for a better excuse than a shrug of the shoulders and a "nannari."

So far, the other shoe's come in two thumps. The first a Reaver boat coming in hot and making the Militia earn their keep. Figures that none of the Alliance patrols would be on the ground when it happened. A couple of visitors apparently really stood out during the attack, or so I'm told. Seems the Reavers like to attack when the Alliance isn't around and I'm on the Orbital. Probably a survival advantage in that, seeing as how a platoon of well armed soldiers is bound to be more effective than even our Militia.

A single Reaver boat is more of a nuisance than a real threat. At least to us. Now, if they sent a whole tribe after the colony? Might be ugly. Blackburne was hit by several, at once, and they had to abandon their homes. But every year that gets less and less likely as Entropy works its magic on their numbers. Mindo's experiments aside, the Reavers were a dieing threat. Self regulated into extinction.

The rock strike on the Companion platform was more surprising, and unfortunate. We have the best Navtrac array of any 'small colony' on the Rim, with better navigation and approach sensors than most of the mid-sized colonies, or even Alliance bases, in the region. It's overkill for Hale's Moon, really. Most colonies our size don't even have traffic control, let alone a Navtrac array. But even with all that, there's still blind spots. Not many, but they're there. And, sometimes, rocks small enough to slip through the cracks in our coverage find their way to the surface.

Usually, when one of those rocks, rarely bigger than a Rugby ball by the time it burns up, sneaks through, it impacts somewhere harmless. That would be, roughly, ninety nine and a half percent of Hale's Moon's surface. This time though, we had the bad luck to miss it on the radar and for it to be on a trajectory that hit something fragile. With all the work that had gone into rebuilding the Companion House on that big industrial lifter, it was sad to see it settled half over on its side in a ravine. But one unlucky hit was all it took.

Maybe the 'Verse telling us we weren't supposed to have something nice.

Sad really. With 'Brina gone as long as she's been gone, I was actually considering spending an afternoon there. Maybe an evening. Haley was a wonderful girl, but there's some kind of contact that a Beagle just can't provide - no matter how affectionate she was. Now it looked like the opportunity had passed.

At least Aroha Hannu's volunteering to look into our Terraforming was a potential bright spot. I'd done a lot with the old Westinghouse unit when we'd found it a couple years ago now. Between it and impacting a couple cometary bodies, we'd managed to raise the humidity to the point scrub would grow and some life could survive on the surface. But she'd actually had some specific education in it. Hale's would never be a Green world. That just wasn't in the cards. But maybe, just maybe, we'd be less of a windfall for Blue Sun's 'skin moisturizing products' division.

What was bothering me most, I think, was the situation with x0x0.

I understand more of her arrangement with Major Siamendes than she knows, since I'm privy to more internal Alliance communications than I let on. But that's only part of the issue with her recently. Her nearly coming to blows with the soldier Siamendes sent to collect her not withstanding, her recent behavior has me a bit worried.

It's been obvious for a while that x0x0's not entirely stable. Her brother's death was an obvious blow, but there've been other things that don't make a lot of sense. What is her real relationship with Krenshar? How does Blue fit into her puzzle? Lily? AuroraBlue? Somehow, all those threads tie back to x0x0, but none of the links are clear. Yes, Blue was one of x0x0's projects much like Nora was one of mine. But Nora had never had an agenda.

It seemed that on some level x0x0 was a Reader. There were a few, I knew. I'd dealt with a couple of them before I'd 'retired' the first time. They were all mad to one degree or another, and x0x0 sometimes showed the same traits. I could still remember what the subject at the training center had said to me - "The others. So much noise. Always loud. So loud. But you, no. Quiet. You whisper." Does x0x0 listen to my whispers?

Does Blue?

She's an enigma. Sometimes I think I understand her. Other times I think she's trying to play me. Which, honestly, probably means she is. But there are still things I'd protect her from, or at least try to. I'd called Silvermane before Siamende's soldier left with x0x0. Just a heads up, and request to keep me in the loop. Cory would put things through the proper channels as she always did and I would be read into the link.

The question though was not whether I was protecting x0x0 from the Alliance. But whether I was protecting the Alliance from her.

The other shoe

Things have been unusually settled now for several weeks. With the exception of a new bar opening, down in one of the old dug out storage areas under town, and some changes to some store fronts, it's been almost unsettlingly quiet. Even some of the locals have mentioned it. They're not so much angry with the ongoing Alliance influence, as confused by it.

With things so settled, why are they still here?

Silvermane tells me it's the same on the other colonies in her patrol space. No word from the Brass. No word from Parliament. Just wheels within wheels grinding onward for no discernible reason. My own contacts are either completely in the dark, or being very careful with that they're saying. Rather disconcerting, actually.

I'm in a position where I have the authorization and resources to know what's going on. For the moment though, I'm coming up empty. I'll have to bring more resources to bare but it will take time. Strangely, time is what we seem to have an abundance of now.

Even with the Alliance in power, the town seems to be doing well. The mines are operating smoothly, though Blue Sun "reclaiming" the Destiny compound has changed the face of the colony in some ways. Krenshar's 'Replicant order' has a greatly subdued presence, and many of Destiny's 'resident' population is having to face life under new management.

Not that they were ever as independent as they presumed. Their compound had always existed at Blue Sun's convenience, and Blue Sun's presence was with the blessing and ongoing good will of the town council. And the Town itself has, for a long time, at least tried to stay under the Alliance's radar - and to cooperate when it came down to it.

There was always the simple fact that a cruiser had more people sweeping the decks than we had colonists. If they'd wanted to destroy us, they could have. Our resistance would have been futile at best. Sure, some of our number could have escaped into the desert. But to what end? Hale's Moon didn't have the biosphere to support long term survival without support. It would have been for us as it had been for that Loyalist unit: a slow death from exposure.

Thing was, it seemed less and less like it would ever come to that. The opening of a new bar spoke to an odd sort of stability. Though, given the location, tucked under ground as it is, I suspect it caters to a less than savory clientele. That, in spite of the pleasant facade of its proprietor.

I'd keep an eye on him and his customers. I didn't actually mind having such a place in our midst. It served as a contrast to Firefly's and the small bar Sobi was arranging on the Orbital. A lot of business got done in bars, and the kind of business that got done in bars tucked away underground was often the sort of business that Spooks took an interest in.

So, rather than being put off by the place, I considered it an asset. I'd have to keep up my own 'protect the town' image. More honest attitude than image, really, but still. The bar could become another data point for the work I was doing.

Just wish I wasn't quite so alone doing it.

Do fences really make good neighbors?

x0x0's having a wall built around the Destiny enclave within the confines of Blue Sun's leased land on Hale's Moon. The official story is that Blue Sun's taking full responsibility for the enclave, making it less of an independent sub-colony and more of a corporate back yard. There was an unofficial story as well, of course, but that was mostly kept between x0x0 and myself. The townsfolk didn't need to know what she had planned for the compound. It was probably best they thought the wall was more to keep them out, rather than to keep the residents of the compound in. Would people believe the official story?

Did it matter?

Given what she had planned, there were times I honestly wondered why she didn't just have Blue Sun buy Hale's Moon. Literally. Pay off all the five or six hundred odd residents, give them funds enough, and transportation, so they could set up in at least as nice a setting on another colony out here on the Rim. It wouldn't have been that expensive. At least not when you considered the sheer amount of cash flow through Blue Sun's accounts. Buying off the colony would be cheaper than, say, building an orbital facility from scratch.

Locals who wanted to stay and work for Blue Sun could, just as they already had. Those who wanted out, could get out. In the end, Hale's Moon would go back to being a company world, as it had under Weyland Yutani. Only, this time, instead of a mining colony, the whole thing would become a Blue Sun research facility. Safely air-gapped from the rest of the 'Verse, so no kurutta orokamono would do something mind numbingly stupid.

It would never fly, though. It wasn't a matter of coin. Blue Sun could afford to buy everyone here out. Possibly even including the KHI orbital. No, it was a matter of principle. Some of the newer colonists would walk away, and some of the old timers would be willing to trade their homesteads for a suitable pile of coin. But some of these folks had worked the mines since the Weyland days. They were stubborn. Chance of them taking coin to turn their backs and walk away was slim to none.

Did I entirely approve of what x0x0 had planned? No. I didn't. But it wasn't my place to tell her no. I could, and had, told her my concerns. That was all I could do in any of my several capacities. The wall itself was partially because of my concern for the colonists who'd chosen me to lead them. She'd take suitable precautions and she was keeping me in the loop. At least on some levels, since I didn't actually want to know all the details.

Regardless of outside appearances, my relationship with x0x was deeper, and far more complex, than it appeared. There were ties between us on levels, and through individuals, that defied logic or exposure. And, deep down, I was honestly fond of her. I couldn't foresee how all this was going to turn out. But I would do what I could to make sure it was as good as could be expected for all involved.

Buddha help us.

Let there be coffee

Corrine doesn't look especially happy. We've been having these meetings infrequently since giving her the initial briefing, usually at a coffee house somewhere where we won't really be noticed. Today, she looks mildly annoyed. Not so much at me, it seems, but at life in general. Or, perhaps, more specifically, the continuing situation in her patrol sector.

"Seriously, Seana. Why are my men still playing babysitter? Three colonies now. All of them low population, low risk, low priority. No offense."

I waved off the apology with a faint smile. "None taken." We both know the way of things out here. Hale's Moon, for all intents and purposes, should have been a low risk, low priority, colony on anyone's list. By Rim Districts standards, we should have seen a four man patrol boat maybe once a month. They wouldn't have even ponied up for a hired security force. The colony was just that small.

"There's nothing on Hale's Moon preventing us from giving control of the colony back to your local people. Nothing. Except the Department of State won't sign off. Same with the other two colonies we're shepherding. Liaison's aren't hearing anything from their brass and our's are silent, so we keep patrolling."

I could sympathize, nodding over my coffee, seeing the frustration. Silvermane was a good officer. More level headed and cognizant of the needs of the people in her patrol sector than most. Her original idea for Martial Law had been to dispatch the platoon stationed on the IAV Abraham Sinkov, who was already patrolling our space, and have them work directly with the town elders. They wouldn't have been here to supplant our authority, but to augment it.

It just hadn't worked out that way. She'd been ordered to take over and, rather than directly do so, she'd gotten a Department of State liaison to stand between her people and ours. It was a move I readily concurred with, letting her maintain the working relationship she'd developed with the locals without directly disobeying High Command.

"Wish I knew, Corrine. What's up with the other two colonies? I'd seen the reports, but hadn't dug into them very far." Which was perfectly true. I'd seen the reports in passing, but they hadn't been flagged. Either I'd missed something setting up the Expert System that handled report mediation or there really wasn't anything standing out on those two colonies.

"Even less reason to put boots on the ground on either of those worlds than on Hale's. Both colonies were in the two to five thousand resident's range. One had an earthquake that left a handful of people homeless. Other had a couple of raiders come in back to back and clean out a fair bit of their supplies. Neither of them justified imposing Martial Law, or even a full contingent. Been up to me I'd have sent an Engineering unit to one and a couple of patrol boats to the other. But High Command said full martial law. Best I could do was get another Diplomat to try and smooth things over."

"Curious." Which was, of course, a major understatement. There had to be something deeper going on, but it hadn't popped up high enough to hit Intel's radar. Gut suspicion was someone in Parliament, possibly with Loyalist leanings, setting up for a power play. Either trying to get a heavier influence in the sector, or setting wheels in motion that'd get Colonel Silvemane transferred.

Either way, I'd do what I could. It was to our advantage to keep Silvermane militarily in charge of the sector. She'd earned more respect from the Rim worlders than most Alliance officers could claim. No small feat given the Independent leanings of most folk in the Kalidasa system. That, and I'd come to trust her. At least as far as I could ever trust anyone in her position.

Just wish there was less on my plate. . .