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

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

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

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

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

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

But for how long?

Home for the holidays: Or not.

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

The holidays are depressing.

Winter is depressing.

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

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

Even Simon was off world for the holidays.

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

Deep Black

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

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

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

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

But where?

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

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

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

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

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

Home is where your dog is.

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

So then these Reavers show up . . .

Aren't these guys dead yet?

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

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

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

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

Attrition's a bitch.

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

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

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

So where the Gorram hell do they keep coming from?

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

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

Though that may change.

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

Not sure I want to know.

But I will.

It's what I do now.

Little child of sand

Have the Reavers come for you?

Or unrelated?

Cubs

I don't pretend to understand Lily, or Blue, or AuroraBlue, for that matter. It's not just that they are each, in their way, a construct. Unlike everyone else I know, they developed without the normal psychological development the rest of us share. They lack the long term learning and perspective that we learn through trial and error from childhood.

None of them were ever really children.

They are each, in their way, a sociopath.

Not that that is really a surprise. I'm a sociopath on some levels myself. It's why I'm so effective at what I do. But it does make things difficult. I've often said I've faced trials no other mother in history has ever faced. How could they? My adopted daughter is a synthetic life form. Not even really organic, though fully sentient. Her daughter is purely organic, but she's been through physiological changes that she probably shouldn't have survived and her mind is that of a Mentat: a Human mind that can think like a computer.

The new cub though? What do I make of him? Lily described him as being made from Sand and Electricity, and visually I wouldn't doubt he's a Synthetic. How? No idea. Given the developments in nano-fabrication and the influence of Blue, it's possible K2, as she calls him, really is made of Sand. Sort of. From sand would be more appropriate. A good high grade multi-mineral base with all the appropriate metallic elements available, and it might be possible. Might. As in, I can't entirely rule it out, but I haven't seen anything to say it's so either.

Synthetic or not, he was well behaved when Lily left him with me to tend. Spent almost the entire time curled up more or less asleep on the small bed with Haley, where Lily put him. Which, all things considered, wasn't such a bad idea. Haley's always been good around children. Pretty much from the day we rescued her from the Reavers, she's shown an even greater than average, for a dog, affinity for Younguns.

Part of me wants to know more about him, and another part doesn't want to think too hard about it. Mechanoids, like the infamous KM series, all require serious infrastructure investment to manufacture. There's a reason menial labor is still performed by indentured servants and the poor, rather than by industrial mechanoids. Autonomous mechanicals are expensive and complex to make, require skilled maintenance to keep in operation, and still generate a fair amount of fear within the general population. In most circumstances, they're just not economical. Not when you compare them to cheap human labor.

A synthetic like my dear Mei Mei is, functionally, a curiosity. Created in a lab by a brilliant, if insane, inventor, for a specific purpose. She is unique. Unlike the KM series or any of the other mechanoid models, there will not be hundreds or thousands of her coming off an assembly line. She is the only one of her kind and may forever be the only one of her kind.

Using nanotech under AI control to manufacture synthetics is a game changer. Potentially a terrifying one. But I'm not going to judge. I don't know enough about him. I will. In time. But for now, I don't. And I won't judge.

The question though, is whether I'll need to protect him from AuroraBlue. Lily's convinced my little girl is going to end her, and K2. Why? She can't say. Or maybe won't say. While I have my suspicions, I don't know for sure. There was a time when I thought I understood where it was all leading, but now I'm not so sure. Too many variables. Too many unknowns.

And my own emotions coloring the picture.

Energy and Sand

Machines as small as microbes

What now have you wrought?

And then someone blew up x0x0...

There are dangers inherent in being highly placed in a large corporation. It goes with the territory. No mater how well liked a corporation is, someone out there will want to put some hurt on the top executives. Either for some imagined slight, or for kidnapping and ransom, or for political reasons, someone will want to do them harm. That's why most corporate executives have some sort of security force around them at all times. They need it. Even Grandfather has a couple of bodyguards.

When half the known 'Verse has a love/hate relationship with the company, like, say, Blue Sun, the problem is magnified. While x0x0's position in the company isn't as widely known as some, she is still functionally, vary, very, powerful. If they were a privately held concern, like KHI, with no shareholders to appease, her power would be unsurpassed. But x0x0's always been independent and, honestly, a badass in her own right. She's always taken a rather, mukanshin'na . . . unconcerned, view of her personal security. I've kept an eye on her, as I have on Lily and AuroraBlue. Unfortunately, I have been much less successful at protecting my girls than I'd like.

That being the case, it was really no surprise that someone would put some effort into hurting x0x0. While a package bomb seems like a crude, and, honestly, unsophisticated, way to attack, it can be effective. In this case, it was quite effective. The device made it through x0x0's usual checks on such things and the blast damn near killed her.

I wasn't in position to do anything about it at the time, but I've been following her situation ever since. Not entire sure I like the space she's in now, truth be known. But, for now, I will just watch. If someone tries to finish what they started, I'll hopefully be a step ahead of them. If someone tries to take advantage of x0x0's compromised situation, I'll have her moved beyond their reach. I've got substantial discretionary power in my Intel position. And, failing that, I'm still quite adept at performing extractions.

In the meantime though, I need to sift the data and find out who tried to hurt her.

It's there.

I know it is.

I just need to find it.

Bombs so very crude.

An amateur assassin.

Perhaps something more?

Web

There are points in a persons life when everything suddenly comes into focus. Places and times where they realize what road they are on. It doesn't matter what road they might think they are on, or which they were on. They see the road they are on. It is in those moments they can embrace the path as it lies, or make a conscious effort to alter course. For better or worse, the choice becomes obvious.

Unfortunately, it's oft impossible to tell whether the choice, any choice, is for better or worse. Even when the choice has been made, it may be hard to tell for a while whether the choice made was the right one.

I've recognized most of those moments in my life.

But this one crept up on me.

Pouring over Intel analysis as I have done so often for the last couple years I suddenly realized how large a web I'd spun - to borrow a euphemism. Dragon's don't spin webs. But still. I'd positioned myself at the focus of a vast web of information. Originally as a way to protect my girls from being exploited, then simply continued because of inertia.

As a district officer I'd been given a great deal of freedom over what to do with the intelligence I collected. Much of it was simply passed on for later analysis. Some I acted upon myself, using the resources at my disposal or, rarely, taking a direct hand myself. Some I squirreled away because passing it up the chain would have consequences best avoided.

And therein lay the realization. Information was power. Even more than wealth, of which I had a passable supply, Information - raw knowledge - was power. Whether it was used for good or ill, or simply was, was separate from the information itself.

That, in itself, was no real revelation. It was more of a truism. What was a realization was that I'd been consciously making judgments about what information should get passed on or not, and why I was making those judgments. And the realization of the direct effects some of the passed information had had, and what the omissions had meant.

I'd been using information to subtly manipulate the Intel community, knowing, as I had pretty much since I joined the Intel community, that the community had subtly been manipulating me. Manipulating everyone. And now, the conscious realization that I could use that manipulation to advantage. Not for personal gain, though that was an obvious avenue, but to subtly guide events towards the brighter future I'd always imagined.

It was a frightening realization.

But it illuminated my course.

I had information. Vast quantities of it. And, by skillfully disseminating that information, by trading it, guiding it into the proper hands, or away from other hands, I could do far more good in the 'Verse than I ever could behind a command desk or from a high floor in a corporate tower.

Most of the contacts were already in place. It was a matter of expanding the network, casting a wider net, and, above all, being very, very, careful with how I used the power at my disposal.

It would have to happen slowly. Carefully. But it would happen.

It was already happening.

Only now, it was time to consciously move on what I knew.

Buddha help us all.

Knowledge is power

Vast web of information

Who am I to judge?