Union of Independant Worlds IC Roleplaying Thread

[Cannonshop]

"Then, for formality's sake, Star Captain, the trial is accepted-and the Ravens can send their own representative to discuss terms."  Deb's already suspicious demeanour shifted to something...colder, and the faint scar-lines around her eyes, nose, and throat seemed to suddenly be...there- like the death-marks left by the Flu's fatal final stage, and there was a slight, unsettling odour in the room, like rancid meat and fresh blood, and fever.

"Inform your Khan, when you return, that his son is doing well in the Academy." she added, "and I will await the terms from the Raven."  Her voice seemed to lack something, and there was a rasp, like the croaking of lungs fighting infection, "and you may go."

Her hands clenched the arms of the chair, and she fought to control herself...

[Cannonshop]

Rayenne Nellis Medical Centre, Fat Bastard Burrow, Arluna System...

"Well, Archduchess, we have good news, and not-so-good news."  Dr. Lee Chuan said.

"What's the not-so-good-news?" Debbie Mac asked.

"You're going to die." he said, "Probably in the next twenty or thirty years-could be as long as forty or fifty...if you start sleeping when you're tired and eating right, but I'd cap it at around forty more years based on your heredity and medical history.  The good news, is that you're not contagious."

"Not Contagious?" Deb asked.

"One of ten thousand, Your Grace-you didn't get the series innoculations because your body beat the virus-at least, into submission...but you still have it, and it's still doing damage."  he told her grimly, "Cystic tissue is building up in certain brain areas, and there are signs of infection in your capillaries-the inflammations that have been touch-and-go? yeah, they're not going to go away, and there's not much can kill this bug that won't kill you in the process...but you probably can't pass it along."

She looked scared, "How long before-?"

"Before you're drooling in a corner? now that I can't tell you-the progression of the cysts in your head seems pretty much holding at about the rate that your body is fighting it-barring a major illness that compromises your immune system, you could be stable where you're at for decades, with one, and you could be a drooling vegetable in a...much shorter time period."  he paused, "Sorry we can't do more for you.  I'd suggest you take things as they come, one day at a time, but keep in mind, nobody knows when they're going to die, or how, or whether they're going to be a drooler-in-the-corner tomorrow-and anyone could face that."

[Cannonshop]

UIS Fateshaper, en-route...

"...so, we're falling into convoy with the Obvious Lie...so that we can..what??"  Brevet-Captain (Lt. Commander) Amanda Ngo  looked at Captain Ortiz' face over the commlink.

"Fight a trial with the Snow Ravens to keep her." Ortiz said, "Look, I'm not happy with this either-but it's straight from the Archducal Desk-we can't refuse it."

"And this trial...is going to be conducted in my home system?" Amanda asked.

"yes, yes, it is...which is why I'm contacting you personally to pass this along-Your Commission is suspended, Herewith by Archducal Order, you are to be conducted safely to the Kowloon System, to assume, by Archducal Command, your duties as Duchess and Governor of the world of Kowloon and all possessions native to the 1312 Sector-and it's effective immediately Your Grace, you're not in the Military anymore, you've been...bumped to a VIP civilian status."

"There's no precedent for that." Amanda said, "I've got zero negative evaluations-I earned a command slot, dammit."

Ortiz shrugged, "and you're getting one-sure, it's unorthodox to draft someone OUT of the Military, and I suppose the Supreme Court might toss it out-but this has the Department's stamp of approval on it, so you'd be fighting both the Chief Executive, and the Navy Department."

[Cannonshop]

Congress Hall, Grantsville, Arluna...

"...before the House for consideration, is a bill of reform to the Regulations of Military Service for the Front-line formations of the Military Arm of the Union of Independent Worlds.  This bill, once it becomes public, will stir a lot of controversy,"  Representative Sarah Levine (SDP-Inarcs) paused, "as it should.  it amends the national service act and reinterprets sections of the Constitutional Instrument of Governance.  It is a serious step, one unprecedented since before the rise of the Star League itself.  Members of the Progressive Caucus, Social Democrats, and Royalists, I'm going to tell you why my vote is going to be in favour of this bill, which seems, at the surface, to contradict many of our most cherished political and policy beliefs."

The room rumbled as members commented and argued among themselves, until she raised a hand, stilling them.

"Currently, the Union of Independent Worlds, in the form of our Navy, and Marine Corps, are engaging in a war with the Clans-a war that this body did not approve of, a war in which we were not consulted until after the fact.  The Clan in question, is the Clan known as the 'Spirit Cats'-I believe the Conservative and Nationalist caucuses have already passed, over the voices of the Progressive Caucus, a resolution both condemning the Spirit Cats for their attack on the Marian Hegemony, and proclaiming our support, both in action, and in spirit, of their struggle against the invaders-a position that those well familiar with my own party and myself would note we stood in opposition of-as we stood in opposition to Union involvement in this war, and earlier deployments going back twenty years.  Our soldiers have been whored out to foreign states for a generation, and the fundamental reality is, they will be again-regardless of the will of the Congressional Opposition."

From the right side of the hall, jeers and shouts erupted-and the Speaker of the House banged a gavel and demanded order.

"Yes, I used the word 'whore', but it was recently pointed out to me, that the difference between a whore, and a slut is a distinction that is deeper than you might think-because a Whore is a professional, who demands something back, some payment for what they do, whereas a Slut performs the same acts indiscriminately, because they enjoy it."

Some of the objections now thundered from the left, as well as the right, sides of the chamber.

She let them wash over her, and waited once again for the House Speaker to silence them.

"Our Naval personnel, and our Marines, will be used again, as Mercenaries." she stated, "The fact is, they are still the most lucrative asset our nation possesses, in spite of two decades of industrialization and trade-our chief export, the export that has brought our worlds from the crushing of linked poverty and pestilence. But we can not afford to have the upper chamber of our National Legislature, the House of Lords, staffed by mercenaries, with that kind of ideal, so I support the Nationalist-sponsored restriction barring persons of Noble Birth from both holding titles of nobility, and simultaneously commanding forces loyal to the Nation, or serving therein, outside of a declared war-this will not bar them from reserve, or Guard, or Army commissions, it merely restrains them from taking part in the necessary task of fighting other nation's wars for pay-the loyalty of the Nobles must rest with their homeworlds and Nation first and foremost, which is a situation put at risk when they have a career in service to foreigners....I now yeild my time to the Representative from the Boojum Belt-system in Sector 1312."

she sat down.

Speaker Bianh Dao nodded, and announced, "Representative Cuong, you have five minutes, plus the remaining minute and a half from the Inarcs representative."

Rep. Dao Cu'ong (Independence Party, Boojum 6 belt, Kowloon system) "Learned colleagues, I haven't heard such a slander of our brave fighting personnel since the last time I visited a welfare-island on Inarcs...I'd really wish I could thank Representative Levine for her support on this bill, but that would be, while totally correct from a formal point of view, a bit of a slap to our Marines-of course, I expect that kind of slander, from a Social Democrat, especially a rep from the Welfare-State, so who'm I kidding, really?  The purpose of the law, is to avoid a growing pattern of young Nobles trying to cover their chests with decorations in the old Lyran style, while neglecting their true duty to the Nation.  I'm sure that once Duchess Ngo realizes that the Law requires her to stop playing star-sailors and World-savers, I probably won't be real popular in her administration-such is life, she'll get over it, as will Duke Schrackenberg of Winter, Baron LaSalle,  and any of a good score of others... those of you who've served in this body long enough, know that I pulled my hitch with the AFFC, back in the day, and that I pulled a hitch commanding the UIS Kowloon after Admiral Collins was bumped up to CNO.  the service is no place for thrill-seeking rich kids, and active, front-line service is no place to permit a situation like the one caused by the late Duke David Ngo-he got killed in the first invasion by the Clans, left his holdings in the hands of a regent placed there to hold it open until his underage daughter had to organize a regime-change by force of arms."

she paused, "It happened dirtside on Kowloon, it can happen to ANY of you-foreign service is no joke, the bullets and beams are just as real even when you're not in a declared national emergency-as long as nations insist on having Nobles, we can't afford to spend them as a replacement for professionals dedicated to their DUTY to the Nation first and foremost-we can't afford to carry the baggage of the old Lyran 'social general' system."

[Cannonshop]

Ngo Industries Corporate office, Nha Tranh, Kowloon...

Amanda was 'home' again.  "Call a meeting of the board, Kelli." she said, striding off the executive lift, "All the directors.  And have my suit pressed and in my office before noon."

"Yes ma'am."  Kelli Jayne was the newest 'Kelli', her old name, her old life erased, along with fingerprints, DNA records, and medical history...

"Get me contract records and production history for the last eight quarters while you're at it." Amanda added, her voice carried a snap.

"I take it you will not be returning to the uniform?" Kelli asked.

"Nope." Amanda palmed the lock on her office-suite's door, triggering the ventilators to clear away the neutral gasses that preserved the Chairwoman's office in her absence.  "Congress feels that nobles are too soft to serve in the regulars, and frankly, I don't feel like stepping on Coast-Guard traditions just to get shiptime-I need the Coast Guard to stay loyal."  the sneer when she referred to the recent debate in the Union Congress carried over clearly, in spite of her professionally detached expression.

"So, a general housecleaning?" Kelli asked speculatively.

"Not if the numbers look good." Amanda said, "No reason to upset an established order that's working-at least, unduly, until it stops working, but I'm going to have to assert to the Executives that I'm in charge."

"Yes'm." Kelli nodded, and gauged the distance to her boss. An erased past can hide many things-and background checks don't always reveal loyalties if they're well hidden.

But it was not time, at least, not yet...

[Cannonshop]

Krung Dairy, Ia Drang Plateau, Kowloon, July 1, 3091...

This year, the winter was harder than it had been in twenty years.  Nathan Khung gripped the survey-line, and trudged on top of a meter of snow from the barn, back to the house.

Snow had begun early-mid March, instead of late april, and it was heavy this year on the Plateau-more than a meter and a half cumulative so far, and on the flat terrain of Ia Drang, that meant the usual winds pushed up wave-drifts, and white-out blizzards made running safety lines between buildings not only convenient, but mandatory.

He made it into the house without one-today.  Not that it mattered.

"What's wrong?" his wife, Rebecca, asked.

"Cattle are dead." he told her, "Heater failed, they froze, probably last night."

"Oh, god..."  she looked at him, "What are we going to do?"

He pulled his boots off, "For now? the temp's low enough out there, we don't have a lot to worry about as far as the meat going bad, but I'm afraid there won't be any milk until I can get to town."  He shrugged off his jacket, "As far as spring? well..." he shrugged, "I guess we'll have to get a loan, start again.  Maybe your sister can come over and help make some sausages or something-we'll need to get those carcasses slaughtered and processed before it warms up..."

"It won't be Kosher." she told him.

"I know, we can still sell it." he said, "There's a Catholic market in Ia Drang City, might find a buyer there, and there's the buddhists, the Evangelicals down New Saigon way... or maybe someone off-world, I hear there are some places where even old milk-cow meat's a luxury."  He looked up, she was still worried.

"Hon, don't worry, God is just testing us." he said, "You'll see-once the snow clears and the fields are gold with grain...you'll see."

Outside, the winds howled a frozen scream, and white flakes floated at an angle, the sky darkening with its weight...


Vin Drin Lap, further south...

Golden lake shimmered in midwinter, and near the shore, there was ice for the first time in living memory-not little once centimeter crusts, but thick, sturdy, ice, meters deep.
Where the ice gave way to open water, nearly a kilometer from shore, you could see in the morning, threads of mist rising.   The Lake was more of an inland sea, filled with particulate minerals from normally-active faultlines at the bottom, faults that occasionally 'boomed' the land around it.

Normally.

Eddie Vanh manuevered the pickup carefully down ice-choked streets-the city had given up on electronic signals and put signs up at intersections-the cold this year had been bad enough that icing on the lines had killed most of the traffic lights, and even newcomers from worlds like Winter bundled up and didn't go out unless they had to.

Eddie pulled into the Coast Guard office, and parked, before he got out of the truck, carefully stepping in cleated boots.

Inside...

"So, what's the Weather Service say this cold snap's going to end?" he asked conversationally.

"They're not sure.  Right now, most of the Air guard's up in the Plateau, trying to get food to people who can't get out."  Commander Lisa Trung said, "I hope you're not looking for airlift."

"I'm not.  I'm here to see if I can lend a hand." Eddie said, "I've got two Brinson's, just need pilots, and a solid weather report."

"Brinsons? all due respect, Gunny, but those little air-cooled singles you have, they don't come with de-icers, we can't even use 'em at low altitude in this shit."

[Cannonshop]

Kowloon, Nha Tranh...
[spoken in Vietnamese]
"...you're certain?" Amanda asked.

"He said, specifically, that we were "Under Their Law"-here's the transcript..."

video

Amanda Ngo listened to the 'admiral'.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"The codes.  You have to open the codes." Commodore Cu'ong said.

Amanda took the plastic break-plate from the safe, cracked it open, and read it off.

"God save us all." she said when she was done.

I'm going to be a war criminal... She sighed with a sense of deep horror.  Even if by some miracle this works, I'm going to be charged, tried, and probably executed for this-Mother! Nukes? Why didn't anyone tell me we had a project for NUKES??

"Milady, you only authorized it, the Commodore can still refuse to use them."  Warrant officer David Netanyahu told her.

"We have them at all, Dave." Amanda said, "How do you think our 'allies' the Clans are going to feel, knowing that we have them-worse, knowing we built them without the permission of the Central Government? and we've only got the one...not enough, especially if it fails...but even if it succeeds, I am fairly certain that Debbie Mac's going to have me in front of a court, or out on the Congressional Lawn over this-assuming, that is, we're not invaded from all sides and I get lucky enough to be shot before they've burned our world to a cinder."

[Cannonshop]

Amanda Ngo's office...

"Duchess, more bad news."  the Warrant Officer from the Coast Guard was back.

"I know it failed." Amanda said.

"Yeah, well, it was a desperation measure...the Falcons are leaving." he told her.

"Any word on the rest of the fleet?" Amanda asked.

"No, your Grace...no word."

"So, heh...I guess it's time to issue the storm warning, then." Amanda said, "and you have something for me to authorize?"

"I'm here to take you to an executive bunker, Milady, projections and tracking expect an orbital bombardment if the Fleet and the Guard fail up there." he told her.

"No." Amanda said, "I read the law, I know my rights.  Take me to the Academy airbase instead, send one of the new kids to a bunker, I'll take his seat-if we're pressed to a last-ditch defense, someone should be up there who knows how to fly in combat."

[Cannonshop]

South Golden Lake district...

Peoples and Nations exist by their culture, and that culture is built on their stories-and Stories, in turn, are built on Heroes.

This was the harshest winter in decades, the snowfall began in march, and now, in mid July, the bitterness of the cold seemed to dig claws even inside of the homes.  Up above, far past the clouds hanging iron-and-wine-dark, winter was claiming firey prizes.

The invaders would come soon.

"She what?" Evelyn Mosovich-the closest thing to a living legend left on Kowloon.  Leader of forces in the 3057 uprising that removed a corrupt regency, veteran of the first Clan invasion, Kowloon's only truly successful General, and baroness for a community south of Vin Drin Lap in her half-retirement.

"She bullied a Coastie warrant into taking her to the Academy's airfield.  She intends to participate personally."  Mai Huyn, another 'legend', said, setting a cup of tea on the table.

"If she flies, she takes orders." Mosovich said, "Duchess or not."

"You took the job, then?" Mai asked.

"Not much choice-Gunny vanh never commanded a defense, and running around playing in brushfires doesn't match up to facing off with regulars, much less terry-trained-and-armed regulars looking for blood.  Have the major cities been put on alert? are the deep shelters stocked and ready, are the fallback points for civilians prepped?"

"Most of them.  Hue is balking, they think if they sit still and make conciliatory noises, these...people...will leave 'em be." Mai said, "we did manage to convince a few to get out the potential strike zones and into the Iron hills, but you know most of them are still counting on the Falcons to make an eleventh hour appearance with a fleet to bum-rush those buggars up there."

"That's a train ain't coming." Mosovich said decisively, "not that the Falcons are bad fighters, but if they intended to make a fight here, they wouldn't have run, it's not their way.  Whoever the idiot was who convinced Her Grace to buy off on the attempted nuke strike needs to be hung."

"They're probably paying for it now-just like we WILL be, soon...unless a miracle happens up there." Mai commented.

"Miracles don't happen." Evelyn said, "but if they land, we can make it take 'em a good while-maybe long enough for real help to arrive.  In the case that it's not coming, we can make it cost them like our ancestors made it cost the Rimjobs.  The Ia Drang regiment's already spreading out?"

"yeah, like you plotted it, they'll be hard to get in a bombardment." Mai told her.

"Then, we dig in, and wait...and hope they don't have enough to sterilize whole continents up there."

[Cannonshop]

Grantsville, Arluna...

"...cultural taboo, Jesus and Moses, did all that time shipside make her stupid?"  Debbie Mac swore and snarled as the reports came in.

"Might have.  the Falcons ran, the Dominion and Snow Raven units got chewed up, and most of the task-force ships lost just about everything.  Current reports from Fleet Base Kowloon, are that the unknowns have the advantage, they're predicting 98% chance we'll lose the remaining system defenses, and once those warships are over Kowloon, the Ia Drang Regiment and the academy will be all we have left-and those won't last long under orbital fire."

"Who can reach them?" Debbie asked.

"nobody yet.  The Tiger and remains of the Reserves are needed here, and the Dorothea Stratton group isn't consolidated-it'll take 'em a month or better before they can form up to reinforce-these jokers caught us with our pants down-most of the Navy's out ranging in the former Spirit Cat sectors, it'll take time to put anything together."

"we don't have time." Deb groused, "we don't have time, and we apparently don't have a reliable ally in the Falcons."

"What do you want to do?"

"First, I'll try to mend some fences." Deb said quietly, "In the  meantime, assume they're coming to stay, start cutting movement orders to whoever we can shake loose from patrols, commerce disruption missions, raids, whatever, and get them moving to Kowloon, then start working up a damn battle-plan that we can use."

[Cannonshop]

Iron Hills district, near camp John, 15000 ft. Airspeed 120 Knots...

The only way to get a good look at the Camp John valley, was from the air-with advanced sensors to penetrate the heavy black smog.

The surface was too hot.  Fires raged uncontrolled from the petrol wells, refineries, and processors smashed and ignited by the bombardment.

Updrafts made flying over the inferno tricky, but the high-pressure weather system holding the smog down was both blessing and curse.

"Lucky this wasn't coal country."  the Geologist in the second seat commented.

"How do we put the wells out?" Amanda Ngo, Kowloon's duchess, asked.  She wasn't flying the recon bird-she wouldn't be flying much of anything for a while-not until shattered bones knit, her Sabre had been swatted by the falling pieces of the New Saigon tower, and she'd barely survived re-entry and ejection.

"Not sure yet." He told her, "We're working on an explosive solution-snuff 'em by cutting off the O², trouble is, no way of getting the boom we need spread wide enough that it won't just re-catch once the petro spills far enough, and getting crew in to do it, of course...ambient temp's too high, either the explosives would cook off a hundered meters from the target, or the capper would heat-fail before it reached the target."

"High pressure won't last." she said, "Figure something out."

New Saigon site...

The cutting of the Tower turned a peninsula, into an island isolated by a shallows choked with wreckage and debris.

"Foundations' still good."  Thomas Watchman, who'd been an operations foreman a month ago, wiped his hands on his coverall.  "They didn't disrupt the anchor, we just need a new cable, and a new counter-weight, a couple thousand miles of pipeline...hell, we need to rebuild the whole god-damn thing, but what we don't need, is a new anchor."

"The Alpha complex?" Phil Tranh, the surviving representative from the district, who'd been on a train heading back when the bombardment cut the railway and the fall of the tower triggered coastal Tsunamis and minor earthquakes, asked.

"Gone.  Hell, it was just the backup anyway-the damn structure tapped enough static that we were feeding terawatts out into the continental electrical grid-while running the tensioners and flexors needed to keep the cable aligned, AND running the turbines at lower altitudes to counter weather effects.  Add in the solar cells we had strung along the length, and the Site Alpha wasn't needed for anything but surge protection in peak-hours for the region. there's bound to be some screaming and handwringing from the econuts over the deepwater fish kills, but those'll go away as the currents drag the debris down the continental shelf into the abyssal."

"what about reconnection to the land-a skyhook's no good if you have to take an aeroplane to it."  Tranh asked.

"could be tricky-not too difficult, just takes men, equipment, and materials-we get the tower back up, the metals won't be a problem in the long term-Titanium from the outer moons and belt, aluminium/Ti blends spun up out there, maybe some nice monofilament carbon and aligned crystal steels-and they can basically drop it down cheaper than we can dig it up, try to process near-equal solutions on the ground..."

"How long?" Tranh asked.

"depends on the Rockjacks, and the new Assembly-this shit ain't cheap....but we need it.  A dropship economy your costs run in the thousands of Baht per ton, the Tower was running bulk cargoes up into orbit for chennies per Long ton, first year we had the old one in operation paid for not just the construction and maintenance, but the experimental-we-didn't-know-shit-how-to-build-it costs, the R&D costs, including the construction accident payouts and the Insurance on the project, which not even Lloyds of London thought were good enough odds to take the bet on-if we're going to recover from this bombardment, we need it back in operation."

"You're passionate about this."  Tranh observed.

"I could get an engineering job in the Alliance that pays five times what I make-Made, on this job." Watchman asserted, "Yeah, I'm passionate about it...so, you're going to go to the Assembly meeting and...what?"

"I'm considering it." Tranh said, "Problem of course, is that we're looking at up to five million people who're in the dark, and hungry, and freezing to death right now-you can't get the Tower up in less than...what, six months, a year?"  Assemblyman Tranh sighed, "People are freezing, starving and dying NOW."

[Cannonshop]

Mosovich Ranch, Winter Quarters, Minsky's Folly sector, Kowloon...

The forces retreated from a strategically untenable situation. It is not the policy of Clan Jade Falcon to waste warriors lives.

And your use of a nuclear warhead without provocation is hugely disturbing to us. If you wish to remain in the good graces of the Khan, you will turn over the Sara McEvedy. You are unable to maintain her at any rate, seeing as she is a Clan technology vessel.

I will be frank, Duchess. Your disregard for honor(the nuclear device), and your honoring of warriors of a Clan that has betrayed the Jade Falcons out of envy leaves little patience among the Warrior Council.

Reasonable compensation for the McEvedy can be discussed between your Archduchess and the Khan. He wants an answer soon. If the vessel turns up in the hands of another Clan, or you refuse to turn it over, the relationship of the Clan and the UIW will be greatly reduced.


-Star Admiral Johann Folkner

Amanda's trip to Hue was done, and she sat in the east room of her Grandfather's summer cabin, with Evelyn Mosovich.  "How do you want to answer it?" Evelyn asked.

The Duchess of Kowloon sighed heavily, and tried to pick at her cast.  "I don't." she said, and looked up, "What in hell kind of drugs are they on?  we just beat the people that scared them to the point of shitting and running."

"Maybe next time, we can ask the Blakies to show up in civilian clothing and unarmed." Evelyn agreed, "Certainly more this generation of Falcons' speed as far as where their nerve is... which, I might point out, isn't a good sign for us-these guys get off on killing civilians, they don't want a real fight, and they don't think we have enough here to give them a real fight-cowards are a lot more dangerous."

"Then we need to start looking at alternatives." Amanda said, "I guess I'll have to send a courier to the Free Worlds Embassy on Inarcs."

"you could ask Debbie to step in-it is her job." Evelyn pointed out.

"Ev...the Falcons have a garrison on most of the UIW's major worlds, and face it, most of them still act...'Lyran'-it goes to Deb, it goes to Congress, Congress will vote to knuckle under unless we can present 'em with a fait accompli and allies enough to make the cowards blink."

[Cannonshop]

2200 hours Meridian time, orbital survey 3, Kowloon...

Most of the largest populated landmass on the blue-marble planet below was uncomfortably dark tonight.  Where the lights of cities, villages and towns had lit the surface making a kind of 'relief sculpture' of kowloon's waterways and highways, only a few flickers, and the raw, smoky scar of the Camp John Basin were visible. 

"Don't think about it."  CPO Mai Deng Chuan said, "you do, you'll only creep yourself out."

her pilot, PO3F Julian Vu grunted, "aye ma'am." but he thought about it anyway.  Far below, down there, in the darkness, if they'd lived, his parents were probably huddled in a cave-system raid shelter, somewhere south of Vin Drin Lap.

"Seriously, Vu, you're skittering my readings, stop looking out the damn canopy. Put her on autopilot and read a book or something." Mai ordered, "Best way we can help the folks down there, is to do our job up HERE."

[Cannonshop]

(REDACTED), {REDACTED}system, {REDACTED}

"not like putting a tarp over a tank or something, the radio-noise here is cluttered enough, there are plenty of big objects, a few mining ops and co-ops are working the area, with sufficient radio chatter, and the background is big enough, bright enough, and loud enough to hide her...we think."  Commander Jinh Denh Trung paused his personal log, and looked at the charts in the ship's command cabin.   we can only hope.  He restarted the log.  "Skynet's slicers tell me that the blakie bastards used some pretty good encryption on the ship's databases, it's going to take time to crack the files, but most of the hardware is intact, and most of that is pretty standard gear for the application, so we have a decent chance of getting through it all, so long as some newsie doesn't figure out WHERE we took her."

[Cannonshop]

Minsky's Folley, Vanh Winter Camp, Highlands...

"Duchess, kind of a surprise." Ed Vanh greeted Amanda after her security team rolled her off the back of a Karnov, "What brings you out here into the foothills?"

"Looking for a new house?" Amanda said somewhat sheepishly, "My old one was in the 'burbs of Nha Tranh..."

"Oh...yeah." Eddie led her, and the 'visible' team members, into the large cabin.  "How bad is it out there?"

"Pretty bad." Amanda said, "I was staying in Hue for a while, but..." she shook her head, "Someone reminded me that throwing a temper-tantrum across the bands on HPG probably didn't make me many friends, and some of the people I'm likely to piss off have Operatives that'd be right there in Hue."

"Not the Falcons I remember." Eddie said,  "Then again, the Falcons from my day wouldn't have run."

"Things change, people change.  I would've thought that twenty plus years of being in-country they would have had some clue who we are."  Amanda said with an uncomfortable shrug.

"Reply was less than gratifying?" the old Gunny asked.

"You could say that." Amanda said with a nod,  "Debbie's at least returning Box messages."

"That'd be 'The Archduchess' or are they more 'Aunt Debra' in tone?"  Eddie asked.

"More 'Archduchess' than 'Auntie Deb', more official than personal."  Amanda said, "She's asked me to cut back on anything that might be picked up by the interstellar newsies, to stop sending dirty messages at our ostensible-yet-shockingly-unreliable allies, and to refrain from stunts that might be taken as 'meddling in the affairs of outsiders'-apparently nobody bothered to inform any of us that when the Falcons were leaning on Her Grace the Archduchess to allow a Trial of Possession for that Cameron, and assuring her of the honor of the Dominion, they were actually, apparently, enemies on the Grand Council floor, and some kind of grudge between them."

"Sounds like a setup to me." Eddie said.

"Maybe yeah, maybe no-if the...persons...that bombarded us hadn't shown, the late Commander Cu'ong was planning to pare it down to a Marine fight.  We've got the edge on them there." She said, "Maybe the Falcons were hoping to use us to embarass the Ravens?"

"Doubtful." he said, "They're clanners, they don't think that way."

"Hot chocolate?" he asked, passing her a mug.

"yes, please...so, how many refugees can you take in, Eddie?" Amanda asked, "we have several hundered thousand people who're shivering in thermal tents tonight."

"I have some caves that won't flood come spring." he said, "ex volcanic stuff, some of them were reconditioned into living spaces-why? you paying?"

"Of course I'm paying." Amanda scolded him, "we'll need shelter and food, so I'll also be buying all the herd you can sell."