Disclaimer: Selina Wayne, Babs, Diana, and others, are DC Comic's toys, as are John Stewart and the rest of the Lantern crew. Hogwarts, Albus, Minerva, the Weasleys and the others in the Potterverse belong to JK Rowling. Mattie Wayne, Sheila Hawking and Connie Koslowski, among others, belong to Karanne. I'm just trying to finish a story she started many, many moons ago. The Morton family is mine. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental.
Author's note: I last heard from Karanne on May 2, 2016. She claimed she'd had 'a minor heart attack'. I've heard nothing and have seen no evidence of her presence online since then. I am therefore assuming she is dead and won't mind if I attempt to finish The Magical Bat. I had been her editor and collaborator From MB 1 to MB 5, Chapter 4 before stopping for my own reasons. Her fixation on the slavery aspects of the story, to the detriment of everything else, was something I did not wish to associate with.
About 2 years later, I re-established contact when it looked like she planned to give Arthur Morton a sex change. (I'd given her two rules about using Arthur with my permission. 1) No sex changes and 2) no altering his free will.) We worked around that and started working together again through the end of MB 6, although I was not as deeply involved as I had previously been. After Karanne read some John Norman (author of the Gor series of novels), the misogyny took a dramatic turn for the worse. Her first idea for MB 7 was to have basically omnipotent demons run amok in the story so thoroughly that even if temporarily defeated, they could screw things back up again without even bothering to snap their fingers. It would also have violated rule 2 up there. I revoked permission to use Arthur and we were trying to find a good way to kill him off so I could wash my hands of the whole thing. Then she was gone.
This isn't going to be Karanne's version of MB 7. It's going to be mine. The slave kink will be going bye-bye. Logic and consistency will replace the rule of cool. Numbers will be as accurate as I can make them. (Karanne was horrible with numbers. 45 kilometers isn't a training run, it's longer than a marathon. There is a difference between the area of a circle and it's circumference.) Economics will exist, even when it's not convenient to the plot. So, a different story that will move in a different direction than it had been.
Let's see what happens.
Ghost in the Machine May 20, 2022
Saturday, 1 January, 2005: 00:00:00 (UTC)
Luna, Grimaldi Crater, Morton quarters:
" … Year's, darling."
"Yes, my future wife-to-be."
"That sounds… right," she admitted, and kissed him again. They snuggled, and he said, "I've been looking into the honeymoon situation, and right now, I'm figuring someplace warm, like the Caribbean or the Bahamas."
"We'll also need to add in either Cyndi or Wilma for my maintenance." She snuggled a bit, "If it comes up at the press conference, I'm going to use some misdirection. Say the Philippines or a winter honeymoon in Moscow. By the way, Connie would go back on duty as Acting Empress."
"She hasn't impressed me. What about someone like Babs?"
"Even if she wanted to do a thankless task like this, she's not on the Crown Committee's approved list. Her taking the job wouldn't be legal."
Arthur snorted. "The whole point of having an Empress is to keep the politicians from screwing things up, have her added. Wait, what do you mean, 'like this'?"
"As of midnight, I'm back on the job. That also means that you need to factor in Crystal and Todd, and presumably his family, coming with us. I'd also like to take Margo (nine or ten), Edith (six or seven), and little Agnes (five or six) from the Stockwell orphanage."
"For how long?"
"The whole month, if I can swing it."
He pulled her into a cuddle, "This is our honeymoon, not a family vacation. I can see Crystal and Todd, maybe his family, but the kids?"
"You've met them."
"Yeah, and they're great kids; I have no problem with the idea of adopting them, but not on the honeymoon."
She nodded, "I can see that. Okay." She gave him a quick kiss, then asked, "You really have no problem with kids? I would have adopted them a couple years ago if it were legal; that's why I've been collecting growth tanks." At his raised eyebrow, she said, "Artificial wombs or uteri, another name. I've got a dozen stored with Alfred in his mountain, lettered 'A' through 'L'."
"I think we'll be lucky if we can get a long weekend," he replied seriously. "Fifteen kids?"
"I was an only child, and something of an accident. In my spare time, I've even got prospective names for them."
"Maybe I shouldn't ask …"
"Alex, Berti, Christi, Danni, Eddi, Freddi, Georgi, Harri, Izzi, Kris, and Lee."
"What are they, all girls, and no boys?"
"They're all actually unisex names, they can go either way. For instance, 'Alex' can be either 'Alexander' or 'Alexis'. Since I have had various DNA mods and spells performed on me, the odds of my having boys are remote, no matter how powerful your 'Y' chromosomes are, Morton." She waggled a finger, "I will be very surprised if more than one or two are boys; and your mother says that girls are more challenging than boys to raise, and don't tell me you're not looking forward to one of your daughters bringing home some … boy … that isn't nearly good enough for her. That's why the old tradition of fathers oiling their guns …" she grinned.
"I have a wand."
"So do I but it doesn't have the same visual impact of a shotgun. You can say, 'Bring her home by ten. Not one second later, or I have a shovel and forty acres out back.' Besides, think of the environment they'll be raised in. We don't want them to be pampered, spoiled princesses, we want as close to 'normal' as we can get. That means they go to public schools. I know that's going to give the security people ulcers, but …"
He was silent for a minute in thought, and then shifted under her. "Changing the subject, Bill and Fleur went to see Miss Prince. They suggested waiting on the med-tank until her magic stabilizes, and Dr. Black agreed. Oddly enough, so did Miss Prince. Was Clark asked to go get some dirt from Paradise Island?"
"Yes, Kara carried it up, they spread it on a bed sheet and she's lying on it. I don't know how much good it will do, she's still bound and in the public ward, but she's seeing a shrink twice a week, not that she has much of a choice." She held up a hand, "I know your opinion of the psychiatric profession, but they've ruled other causes out, and at least it gives her someone to argue with," and she assumed a fake Austrian accent. "'Tell me, Ms. Prince, vhy you hate your muzzer'." She grinned, "Otherwise, she lies there, hour after hour, she can't even stare at the ceiling, and she's bored silly. Maybe I should get her a radio or something."
"That would be nice of you," a woman said.
Arthur twisted, and snarled, "Demon. Leave. Now."
"Now is that how you speak to guests, Mr. Morton?" The female demon sat comfortably in midair, her long, straight black hair curling and moving behind her. She had the classic appearance of a demon, naked with red skin, a full bust with a pair of small horns on her forehead, and a long pointed tail that curved behind. "I was hoping we might do a little business." She nodded politely, "Your Majesty."
"I presume you're the demon that met up with Arthur and Todd."
"I'm also responsible for the little incident on Bismet," she agreed, shifting to bat her tail's point away. "Persistent little thing." She folded her arms under her bust, "Morton, you were never in any danger, and besides, I don't collect souls. I can mark them, but I don't do the tedious collecting." A cup of icy tea was in her hand, with the saucer floating in mid-air. "Let me explain how some things work. I am a succubus. Together with our brothers, the incubi, we are the messengers and couriers of our Great Dread Lord. As such, when we are on a mission, we have command over demons and mortals," and she pointed to an iron choker collar with a blood red ruby on her throat. "In contrast to you mortals, iron is painful to us. My task for our Great Dread Lord is to reward one of my sisters for a job well done with a few years of pain."
"Wait, I don't understand. You weren't born a succubus?"
"No, Your Majesty. I was born a mortal (she shifted to the appearance of a ragged peasant girl); I was then given this honor after my murder." She waved that off, resuming her demonic appearance. "You have two political problems that we can resolve, the fee for that will be to allow one of my sisters to take the place of one of your slave girls."
"I don't like it, I …"
"Be silent, Morton. I am not speaking to you." She waved a hand, and he was reduced to an infant in a carrier. "I will restore him, he will remember nothing."
"You're not exactly earning my trust."
A slim, perfect eyebrow rose. "You surprise me, Your Majesty," and her hand waved again. Arthur was now naked and gagged, and bound in a chair. "To continue, one of my sisters will take the place of one Miss McDermott, who is being conditioned as a pain slave as we speak. My associate will then enjoy the next twenty-five years of torture as that slave, while the original slave will be available for whatever use you have for her. In exchange, Assemblyman McDermott shepherds a bill through the Assembly guaranteeing sentients grown ex utero, such as your proposed military clones, or perhaps you very own children, whichever, full civil rights. It would help, of course, if Morton here agrees to get behind the bill."
"And why would he?" Mattie asked rhetorically. She figured the only reason Arthur wouldn't support such a bill was because a demon had suggested it and there would be a catch. A big catch. "For that matter, why would your sister want twenty-five years of torture?"
The demon looked irritated, "Can we not… oh, well. Your Majesty, as another female, your touch does nothing for me. While I can transfer information that way, the touch itself is not pleasurable. However, if a male were to touch me, even gently, I would gain pleasure as well as a bit of, well, life from that. If Morton here were to bind me, beat me, then throw me down and rape me, I would gain great pleasure from this, as well as an extended bit of power. Therefore, for my sister to be tortured and raped for years on end …" She shuddered and rubbed herself. "I am jealous of her, but I must obey my Great Dread Lord. I cannot participate except as facilitation." She looked over at Arthur, "Are you willing to enter the conversation as an adult, Morton?"
He nodded, and he could speak. "Why should I get behind this bill?"
"One of your objections to the use of military clones and slaves is that they have no political rights. Am I correct, Morton?" He nodded, still bound to the chair. "By having McDermott enter the bill, one of your political opponents, and then to have Morton here endorse it, along with a little help from my brothers and sisters, this should provide veto-proof passage. Morton gains his precious civil rights, McDermott possibly gains protection for his daughter as well as political points against Her Majesty, who gains an army."
"And you and your sister?" Mattie asked.
"My sister gains her reward for whatever it was she did, and I gain the approval of my Great Dread Lord." She gestured, and another naked female appeared, this one a platinum blonde wearing a slave collar, with her neck, elbows and wrists stretched, and bolted to a heavy wooden beam. She knelt, "Mistresses, please punish this slave."
"You are not there yet, Lucille." The other succubus spat a curse and knelt back on her knees. "Wayne. I knew …" Her lips were sewn shut with a gesture. "With your cooperation and that of Ambassador Bones, my sister and I shall take passage on the mail boat going back to Abo. When we arrive, I shall perform the exchange, leaving the original slave there in the embassy pool. You may then do as you please with her. I then may leave, or not."
"I will take your Dread Lord's offer under advisement," Mattie said firmly. "I have my own ways to contact him. You may leave." Two succubi, one chair, a glass of icy tea, and a length of rope disappeared silently. Arthur's clothes did not reappear.
.oOo.
After Arthur had dressed, he and Mattie reported the demonic encounter to their security, but had not gone into detail. After that quick task, they returned to the couch to discuss things.
"How many major flaws did you spot?" Mattie asked.
"I got three," Arthur replied. "One: What happens to Miss McDermott after 25 years? Two: Created Being Rights is one political problem. What's the second one he's 'helping' with? Three: The Abo are a matriarchy. Lucille would be getting punished by females, which according to the other demon, wouldn't benefit Lucille at all. If I sit down with my wrist comp and a book on symbolic logic, I can probably find more, but those three were obvious."
"I got the first two. But I thought your third would be that if we can't pass a Created Beings Rights bill without demonic help, we shouldn't have an Assembly, let alone an Empire."
"While true, it's not a flaw on Lucifer's end. That's our own problem."
Mattie neither confirmed nor denied. "But your third thing... that's... interesting."
Neither said anything for a while, both hoping to return to something vaguely resembling intimacy, but neither initiating anything. Eventually, Arthur said, "Well, the mood has been well and truly spoiled. As Her Majesty is back on the clock, Arthur is going to bed and Mattie, no matter how welcome she is to join me, should probably let Her Majesty sleep in her own bed so Cyndi can do the hair routine before Her Majesty's first official appearance."
Mattie silently agreed and regretfully was escorted to the hallway between 'House Morton' and 'House Wayne'.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
Friday, 31 December, 2004: 20:47 EST (Saturday, 1 January, 2005: 00:47 UTC)
Columbus, Ohio, 315 Southbound
'Drop this off for George and I'm done for the night. Too bad Maggie's on Luna. Be nice to toast the new year with my wife," Bill Morton thought as he passed the Henderson Road exit.
He'd left FedEx® before going on the Helium 3 mining trip to Uranus with Hank, Misty and Mike. The money from that, along with profitable tungsten, stock and other investments had provided more than enough to retire and move to New Albany or someplace even nicer.
But he hadn't. He was too young to retire and while he and Maggie had gone on a few vacations to places they'd only dreamed about before, a life of leisure wasn't what he wanted. Yet. Maggie certainly hadn't retired, although she was officially on sabbatical as she helped Connie be Acting Empress to the extent that Connie would let her and put in residence time for lunar land claims in Grimaldi Crater.
So he'd bought a shiny new Sprinter® van, big enough for the 5' by 10' sheets of AlumaCorr his sister Kathy sometimes used in her sign making business, had it painted white and became a FedEx Custom Critical affiliate. He worked when he wanted, for as long as he wanted and never had to worry about going to Chicago or any other city he didn't like. George, his dispatcher, would have loved to have Bill available full time, but gladly settled for what he got. On slow days, Bill never complained and it left more work for drivers who needed the money.
At that particular moment, Bill was hauling a crate containing a life sized replica of a Battletech® Clan Elemental to a toy store on Lane Avenue. He didn't know what that actually was, but his son Hank insisted it was the coolest thing he'd ever taken anywhere.
"Damn!" Bill Morton yelled as he swerved and braked hard to avoid the elevated black pickup truck that had cut in front of him trying to make the Olentangy River Road exit. It cost significant rubber on asphalt, but he'd managed to stop safely. The other guy wan't so lucky. Two rolls and pounding the barrier for the northbound lanes was bad. No seat belt was worse. Even if the accident adjacent Riverside Hospital had had an available med tank, it would have been too late.
After he talked to the cops, after he'd made his delivery, after he drove home, after he'd used his ward key to enter his own house, he kissed his daughter Teela's forehead to her great embarrassment and reminded himself how lucky he was.
Midnight had come and gone and the end credits of Blazing Saddles were starting when Bill turned off the set. He'd put the disc away in the morning. On his way upstairs, he couldn't help but notice his family med tank.
Galtech medicine was thin on the ground on Terra. Med tanks were rare. Most of them, captured or purchased, the Empire reserved for processing draftees and a trickle of actual volunteers into the Imperial Army. Many of the rest were on various Imperial vessels. A few, in Bill's opinion, were wasted on silly intelligence games. Others were better used in removing galtech slave collars on Eunomia.
All of which left mere handfuls of the devices scattered around select hospitals, the nearest of which was at the Cleveland Clinic.
As far as Bill knew, the Morton family tank was the only privately owned unit on the planet. Arthur had picked up one for the Tallah and the one he was looking at when he had the ship refit on EEIII after completing an Imperial carriage contract. One day, the Rocket J. Squirrel (the Tallah's 20 passenger shuttle) flew in from Eunomia to Rickenbacker and its cargo and passengers were offloaded, inspected, cleared and Imperially taxed. Under cover of night they were taken to Grandview Heights.
There was the tank and the generator that would power it. (The shuttle engine was massively overpowered for the task, but was readily available without paying a premium.) There also came a Medical Technician II, a Healer II and a Xenobiologist Instructor. Bill had hired, then manumitted, the Med-Tech himself, much to his theoretical First Officer and Ship's Slave S'ana's disgust. (It had taken months, but she was finally starting to realize that at least some humans did not believe in slavery.)
By galactic standards, the other two were well paid short term workers. The exchange rate at the time was about 14 cents/gram, so by Earth standards they were a bargain.
With help from the Tallah's crew, they'd installed the device in the rec room. The test came when the Med-Tech used it to successfully remove her own darkened collar. Sure, Arthur had spent nearly two tons buying medical programs to cover the various species that made up his crew, but what the hell, it was his money and he still had over 75 tons cash available on EEIII.
Tests completed and guests returned to where they came from, that left the Morton family with the equivalent of mid sized medical clinic for themselves. Maggie had arterial plaque cleaned out, as well as moles and skin tags removed during a general tune up. He'd gotten his bone density fully back to normal and his pericardium gone over during his own. Becky said they looked five years younger and they'd felt it too.
Teela's arches had been tweaked as a preventative measure against the shin splints she was prone to. She'd wanted to test some of the cosmetic surgery options, but settled for just changing her hair color from dirty blonde to raven black and lengthening her eye lashes. Becky and Carson were healthy.
His brother Rich took longer than the rest of them combined. He needed it too. A gallbladder replacement. Cleaning out his lungs from 30+ years of smoking both tobacco and pot. Removal of precancerous lesions and actual small cancer cell clusters. Multiple tooth replacement. (Not from smoking, from at least three separate bar room brawls he'd won, or at least not lost.) A removed panniculus from when he'd lost a lot of weight after finally getting sober. Rich came out of the tank looking his age instead of 10 years older than it, his silver hair returned to its former dark brown.
Kathy said she'd take a dip in the tank 'when she had time' but his in-laws and nephews on the Dunka side of the family had all passed.
Which had left it all revved up with no one to heal. None of the local hospitals, not even OSU would use the device or let their physicians 'prescribe' it. Too new. Too untested. Despite the fact that the Empire used them wholesale. Despite the fact other hospitals did use them. Despite the fact that they could theoretically rebuild someone from a severed head if that head could be tanked before brain death occurred.
There had been an inquiry from the OSU Athletic Department about rebuilding a blown Achilles and a shredded knee until a call from the AD himself, a man Bill admired and respected, said 'The Conference' threatened them with ejection if they used the technology before it was available to all member schools.
From sheer contrariness, he'd actually asked Arthur, who'd actually run the numbers. It was doable, if they could track down enough med tanks. But the only source of that many tanks was the Republic they were currently at war against. Most of their manufacturing capacity was crippled by intentional inefficiency and graft, but medical tech was something The Republic built and built right.
Which still left the Morton family tank idle. Until Arthur had inquired about its availability in what was now last year. A lunar school teacher had gotten blinded by an alien's pet (technically her symbiont) and bureaucracy was screwing the woman over by not getting her into a tank right away. He'd seen Eleanor and Marie get screwed that way and if he could prevent it from happening again, he would.
Bill shook his head to clear it of stray thoughts and finally went to bed.
Saturday, 1 January, 2005: 05:41 UTC
Cyberspace
u missed
"I am so aware."
u had to injure bill morton for part 2
"I am aware of the plan I designed for you. It failed."
u failed
"I am so aware."
what went wrong?
"Preliminary analysis suggests: a) secondary target is a better driver than calculated, b) secondary target was suspicious of the attack vector prior to the event and took defensive action, c) magic was used to protect the secondary target."
u may b rite what now?
"Phase II will proceed unless active measures are taken. Casualty estimate is 23."
ill take care of it next?
"Your requirements are complex. Opportunities will be rare. If they arise, I will contact you. Do not contact me."
Saturday, 1 January, 2005: 08:03 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Crater, House Morton
"Good morning, and thank you for coming to this breakfast meeting," Arthur said as he welcomed Fleur and Bill. Their daughter Victoire was at home, being watched by their house-elf. "Ambassador Bones and Madame Tsien are already here."
.oOo.
"Connie, let's take a little walk," and Mattie moved out into the corridor with her, while Arthur continued the other meeting. Casting a privacy spell, she leaned against the wall and blew her fringe of hair. "I've got a problem; when you visited Ms. Prince in the hospital," and she held up her hand. "I agree, she's an arrogant, pushy bitch who gets on my nerves as well. However, she was restrained, in a hospital bed, and you did perform battery by spell … as I did when I turned her into a brick. That's one reason I'm the one talking to you, instead of Arthur, or worse, the Crown Prosecutor. When I turned her into a brick, she was actively threatening people in a church, so that could be considered self-defense."
"Your mother was there," Connie said.
"Yes, she was, and I've had words with her as well. She should have stopped you, but she didn't. That means she's at least an accessory, and the Crown could file charges against either, or both of you." Connie paled, as Mattie continued, "Right now, she's lying there in her hospital bed, blinded, so she can't even count the holes in the ceiling tiles, all she can do is think. She's pissed off at all of us, well, maybe not Arthur, she feels herself wronged, and with some justification." She crossed her arms under her bust, "No, I cannot, will not kill any charges she might bring. For one, I don't have the legal authority, second, if we're going to prove that the rule of law is supreme in the Empire, that means that the highest levels (she waved her finger in a circle) are subject to it."
"That means … I might be arrested?"
Mattie nodded, "Yes, or worse, I might need to arrest my mother. However, we think we can short-cut that."
'That wasn't an Imperial 'We'. What 'we' might it be?' Connie asked herself before she asked, "How?"
"If Arthur is sufficiently charming" -Connie snorted- "then maybe this will blow over. He's said he won't bring up the topic, but if she asks, he'll play it straight."
Connie shook her head. "That's so Arthur."
"It is, but I can see his point. So you doing something else while he's doing that is part of Plan B."
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"I doubt it. I want you to go over and visit, not once, but several times. Keep her up to date on the news, listen to her rant, whatever it takes so she doesn't decide to press charges."
"Shit."
"Yeah. However, if she tells you to get lost, go. You tried, no arguments. However, if she doesn't, then I would suggest that you go out and buy the biggest, baddest, best DataPadd® on the market, so she can listen to movies, news, music, the radio or whatever. We can copy over what she had on her old one, she's a big classical music fan, Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin, those guys. That means that if you have multiple visits, and she still decides to file charges, we can ask her why she didn't try to resolve this without resorting to the courts."
"Shit."
"If she's talking to you, she's not talking to the cops or a lawyer." Mattie shifted, using one bent knee to brace a foot against the wall, "She has agreed to wait until her Thaum rating is out of squib range, which would mean her core is stable and she can get her eyes re-grown. It's not good right now, so you've got some time. She also has time to decide if she wants to get implants (she touched her eyes and ears), but the best of those are military issue, and require a control computer and a data port on the back of her neck."
"She would be killer Special Forces."
"Except she's a rouge, she doesn't take orders, she's an Amazon princess, so especially not from men. She might be a good assassin or sniper, but she doesn't have the patience to lie in the mud and her own piss and shit until her target shows up. Even if she did, she's big into that whole 'sisterhood' thing, where all the evil is caused by and the fault of males."
"And she's a diplomat?" Connie asked incredulously.
"Yeah. What was Paradise Island thinking?" Mattie waved that off. "Arthur has dissed the whole 'implants' thing, he doesn't trust them, so I don't think they're too likely an option, especially being from men and the Empire. Be prepared to have her rant and rave about the general untrustworthiness of men, yada, yada. Her whole 'argument' thing is based upon having her rant about something and people agree just to shut her up."
"No silencing spells, then."
"Unfortunately not."
"That sucks. This sucks."
"Life's a bitch, ain't it?" She pushed off the wall, dropping her spell. "Suck it up and deal with it, Koslowski."
.oOo.
"I think Martha's correct," Selina said after they had digested Arthur's quick briefing. "The easiest way to do this is to modify the ages of consent. Currently in the States, we have sixteen or so for driving, eighteen for voting, twenty one for drinking."
"At that point they're considered legal adults," Maggie agreed. "Changing all of those to seventeen or eighteen might scare some people, but a single standard isn't a bad idea."
Arthur added, "If you're old enough to die for the Empire, you're old enough to vote and have a beer. Doesn't matter what the actual number is." Bill Weasley nodded and Maggie Morton gave her son a hard look.
"Would the super soldiers have implants and collars?" Susan asked.
"If zhey do, zhat would be zheir citizen's ID number," Fleur replied. "We can reserve a range of numbers for zhem, and zhey can zhen go directly into zheir initial training companies." She sipped her coffee, "I think Mars. Zhis could be a good industry for zhem, Zhere are areas to expand into, and zhe gravity is not a problem."
"If we can get a suitable temporal acceleration spell, and the legal problems are solved."
"I still don't like this," Arthur complained. "We're glossing this over way too much."
"How so?" Fleur asked, unaware that you just don't give Arthur an opening like that.
"Your soldier pops out of the tank physically an adult. Okay, fine. I assume there's some way to install a basic education in them. They'll know how to read, write, do math, field strip a P-90, whatever, particularly if they've got implants pre-installed."
"If there wasn't, there wouldn't be much point to the whole program," Selina observed coolly.
"For the sake of argument and my blood pressure, I'll skip the whole 'Why collar them?' question except to note that Enhancement and Collars, while normally linked, don't have to be. Originally, enhancement chips were just prosthetic memory modules with databases loaded in and no mind control features at all." From the reaction, not everyone had been aware of that fact.
"Back to our soldier. Out of the tank and into a training company. That is actually a good idea."
"Arthur, if you said that, there's a catch," his mother stated flatly. "What is it?" Other people wanted to know as well.
"They'll need training," Arthur admitted. "Their bodies will never have experienced recoil. Never hiked 30 kilometers with full field packs. Never climbed a wall. Never cramped up. Never been hit. Never slept after a long day of work."
"Yes, Arthur, that's why there's training. So they can make their potential abilities into real abilities," Selina said, wondering what his actual point was.
"Sure, like I said, good idea."
"Which haz what to do with zhere civil rights?" Fleur asked.
"Without them, after the war is over, we'll have to kill them all or they'll slaughter us. Even with full civil rights, that danger is there whether they're granted rights at birth or after a twenty year hitch. We'll have created an apex predator and we'd be really stupid if we think they'll act otherwise. But worse, we'll have done it through genetic engineering and cloning. The rest of the galaxy may enslave each other at the drop of a hat, but they don't do that."
"Why should we care what the galaxy thinks?" Selina asked sharply.
"You think Earth against the 25 planet Republic is bad? Try an 8000 planet sector. Or more. The Ysmaulti got taken down by a coalition once they made themselves too much of a threat, even though that wrecked the galactic economy in the process. We don't want to be next."
"Do you think it would really be that bad?" Susan Bones asked.
"I think we should find out first."
Madame Tsien agreed with her theoretical employee and almost said so. But the political clout Selina Wayne had as Regent was too high to put her own position at risk.
"If it turns out to be safe, zhen would you work with me to get a bill passed zhat you are comfortable with."
"I notice that you didn't say 'like'," Arthur said while dodging the question.
"Non. M. Morton, I doubt you yourself could write zhe legislation in a manner you would like zhat also serves our needs. I do not like zhis either, but for different reasons," Fleur replied. "I do not think zhat anyone, including zhe Empress, wants to do zhis. However, it iz a way out of our manpower crunch. Remember, we still need to take the four worlds of the Taasbah system. Our general on Aeeloh has a half-million troops and needs more. Where does he get them? Where do we get the troops to not only take and garrison the Taasbah system, but the rest of the former Republic?" She leaned forward, "M. Morton, you have been the most vocal critic of this, which is good, but you have failed to come up with workable alternatives. As I see it, we have two alternatives: continue with the conscription or substitute them with the clones."
"Two others, volunteers and pulling back."
"We have had a high of eight million volunteers, worldwide, just after the Paris Atrocity," Selina put in. "That does not get us anywhere close to the required numbers. Pulling back, aside from the political, emotional, and social problems requires us to compensate those people for the value of their property. Where do we get the funds? I for one do not want to go to each of those planets and look those people in the eye to tell them that they have to give up what they've worked so hard for because the Empire can't afford to defend them." She crossed her arms, "You're the one proposing it, you should be the one to go and tell them."
"We expanded too fast. Had I not been in stasis, maybe I could have done something about it then."
"I would agree with you," Fleur nodded. "However, we have done so. Zhat is water past the bridge. We must deal with problems with solutions that are workable now, but also can be applied in zhe future. Zho, what do we do, M. Morton?"
"Start with an easy one. Pull out from Planet Doggie. They're a group mind. It's not winnable short of genocide. From what info I've read, they barely have native orbital capacity, nothing remotely interstellar. We can pretty much ignore them. Just observe and quarantine. If we can figure out how the Republic dealt with them, consider doing the same."
"Already done, Arthur. We just haven't announced it," Selina said.
"Not responsible for information not received," he ground out.
"Anything else?" Susan asked.
Maggie snorted. "Now you're just asking for it. Arthur can do this all day."
"Thanks mom. But I'll keep it down to two things. They've lost 80% of their planets and still demand we surrender to them. Why? Arrogance doesn't begin to cover it. Something else has to be at work and if we can solve the Republic, we don't have to beat the Republic. It's like they've been enhanced to toe the party line and aren't allowed to think otherwise."
"Second, like Mom said, I can do this all day. I'd do it better with more information. But even with more information, if you want me to fix things, I'm going to need authority, not influence. I can't give anyone orders. Nobody has to listen to me and almost nobody does. So unless you're willing to let me implement my ideas, stop asking for them." With that Arthur, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him.
"He's got a point," Bill Weasley said.
"Oui. Pardonnez-moi, s'il vous plait," his wife added.
'Poked the bear in his own den did we?' Susan asked herself.
Maggie reached up and over to ruffle her son's hair. "That's my boy."
Madame Tsien had seen what Arthur did with authority. It had worked, but she was loathe to grant it any more than absolutely necessary.
Selina's thoughts were hostile enough that Mattie might have picked them up if she'd been present. 'I never believed he'd actually have answers. He's already got too much influence and may have just weaseled his way into more. I might have to give him authority and after his success at Bismet, I'm not sure I dare. What if he's right?'
Saturday, 1 January, 2005: 12:06 (UTC)
Luna, Port Oldridge, media centre:
"All Rise!" and the assembled newsies stood as the Empress strode onto the stage. This was her first 'public' appearance, and the fashion press was already making notes about her hair, makeup and clothing. She strode to the podium, a confident young woman in a cream dress, a curtain of her black hair around her, draping down to her ankle-length hemline, her waist slim and flat, her bust somewhat larger, emphasizing her cleavage as she put her DataPadd® down, linking it into the holo display.
"Good afternoon, everyone," the Empress said. "Please be seated. I've just drawn February 20th, 1978 for the draft day, and yes, I'm back, as of midnight. I hope everyone had a great Holiday season and is ready to get back to work."
"A few preliminaries: Thank you for all being here on a holiday and I hope everyone here and watching has had a chance to vote today. The polls close in about 12 hours so there's still time. Next, I would like to officially acknowledge the captain and crew of Her Majesty's Custom and Inspection boat What's All This Then for their discovery of sabotage to the antimatter supply on one of our Luna to GEO shuttles in time to prevent its destruction. The attack is under investigation and I look forward to the results."
She pointed to a thin, pale-blonde woman. "As I recall from last time, Ms. Lovegood was in her initial appearance and didn't get to ask her question, so go ahead."
"Thank you, ma'am; I'd like to know if you really planning to have fifteen children, specifically daughters."
The Empress gave a slight smile, "Ms. Lovegood, you may not be aware that Arthur and I ask to have our personal lives and privacy respected. That would include our upcoming wedding and any children. Now, I'd love to find out how you knew this, as Arthur is the only one with who I've discussed this. I doubt he's told you." She shifted, "That being said, there are three children I want to adopt, sisters, and I have twelve artificial wombs. Due to a combat injury, I cannot carry a child, but the Catholic Church has a problem with the usage of those artificial wombs. This is something I'm discussing with the local Archbishop, and the wedding plans are still in flux, nothing's definite."
"What about the honeymoon?" Lana Lang called.
"We're looking at someplace warm, like the Philippines, or possibly a winter wedding, so Moscow. That's properly Arthur's job as the groom and my future husband. Let's move on."
"Your Majesty, I notice you seem to have grown a bit," one of the fashion reporters called.
"I always hated being short, so one of the family, I don't know who yet, asked the med-tank to add a few inches when I was in it. I've always loved long hair, and with the new styles, I think it works well." She also lifted a foot, "Heels don't hurt, either."
She checked her notes, and changed the display. "You are aware of our capture of data regarding fifty-five habitable planets. Based on our preliminary surveys, we are opening up five for colonization." She changed the display. "Please note the three blinking lights in the upper northeast part of the map, and the two blinking lights in the lower southwest. This will strengthen our borders with the M'tosh and the Kyla, respectively."
"Can we afford five more colony planets, ma'am?"
"We are contracting colonization rights to various holding companies. For example, the company formed for the colonization of 'Green Garden', is an Islamic company formed and registered in Riyadh. As part of the contract, Green Garden will respect full human rights, including religious freedoms and the right to out-migrate, but someone can't just skip out on debt. One of the aspects of this is the Empire's right to have up to one third of the seats on the Planetary Executive Board."
Taking a swallow of water, she continued. "The Empire will see to the planetary defenses and orbital works, and will take care of national-level infrastructure, such as major roads and long-distance rail, which will include banking and finance. One of the interesting things here is that Islamic banking does not use interest, instead they include a separate fee as part of the payment structure."
She changed the holo, the center blinking light expanded to an orbital view of a lush green planet. "There are five separate asteroid belts in this system, as you can see it's a beautiful planet. It's what's known as a temperate rainforest."
Lana Lang called, "Ma'am, why hasn't this system already been snapped up?"
"It's behind a fairly thick nebular belt. That manages to confuse most sensors, we wouldn't have known about it either, except for captured data. We've been doing preliminary surveys and some mapping from orbit, while detailed surveys and local development and mapping will be the responsibility of Green Garden." She took another swallow of water. "Colonization and citizenship follows two levels, and was part of the contract difficulties. Under sharia law, non-believers do not have rights and are essentially slaves. This is why we pushed for all residents to have human rights and the right to vote. In return, those who also contribute financially have a membership in the shura, or parliament. This creates something of an aristocracy. In addition, corporations are not citizens and do not have the right to vote. In return, their political structure will use a caliph, or supreme ruler, elected by their shura."
"Something similar to you, ma'am?"
"Ms. Lang, my powers are constitutional. I am not an autocrat."
.oOo.
"Yes, Mr. Ullage. I hope you and yours had a good holiday season."
"Yes, ma'am, and thank you. I must say that Santa and Mars don't quite match." There were some chuckles, and he continued, "I have not seen your Education Minister, Mr. Dumbledore around town for quite some time."
"The Justice Ministry has arrested Mr. Dumbledore and a number of other people on charges for conspiracy to commit murder and attempted regicide." There was a shockwave of reaction to that, then continued, "Also, there have been several members of the Assembly that have also been arrested and charged with graft and corruption. As you know, these are capital charges, our aim is open, honest government. They are welcome to hire their own attorneys and we have also offered the services of government defense lawyers. I don't know what the schedules of trials are, although there will be several closed trials as those members of the Assembly had access to classified data. However, there will be pool reporters covering those trials."
"Follow-up, ma'am. I've seen some Earth government representatives going into the Justice Ministry." What did they have to do with the man who was accused of killing his friends and colleagues?
"Mr. Dumbledore is an old man, and has worldwide connections. Including, in their time, high level ministers of the Third Reich, such as Heinrich Himmler and Joseph Goebbels." There was more reaction to that, and she waited it out. "To continue, the various governments, including the Germans and the Russians, want to learn more about this. They want to erase the stains from their national honors, so while Mr. Dumbledore talks…" she waved her hand. She pointed, "Mr. Lee?"
"Yes, ma'am. What about…"
Monday, 3 January, 2005: 09:06
Luna, Port Oldridge, HIM Offices
"So, what do we have?" the Empress asked her Privy Council on their regular 'First Monday' meeting.
"Zhere is some good newz, Your Majesty, en regardz to the elections," Prime Minister Fleur Delacour said cheerfully.
"Careful Fleur, your accent slipped there for a second," Science Minister Kim put in.
"Oh, you're no fun," Fleur replied with barely a trace of an accent. "Seriously, there's some good news. Early returns are trickling in through the sisal network, even though voting ended only 33 hours ago. Thus far, we are getting far fewer 'Loony Party' candidates elected. Every Anarchist block MA who ran for election this cycle has been soundly defeated. The anti imperialists are down strongly. The Mothers lost some representation, but so did two of the excessively misogynist blocks. There's even good news locally. Opposition Leader McDermott wasn't up for re-election this year, but one of his particularly sycophantic toadies, Dr. Venkata, is losing by about nine points to Lacey Gavin, an Imperialist from Queensland."
HIM Martha I smiled. Dr. Venkata, a urologist of all things, was the one who'd submitted the legislation that had required her to undergo an egg extraction while naked and being filmed. She wondered if she should send a sympathy card and a basket of stale cookies. "That is good news, Fleur. Thank you."
"How did we get so many Loony Party MAs to begin with?" Maggie Morton asked remotely from House Morton. The idea of riding the Oldridge Express or GL ringing to Port Oldridge had triggered her fear of vacuum, so she attended via videoconference, which was normally not done.
"A failure of foresight on my part I'm afraid," The Empress said. "The vast majority of non-Solar citizens had never participated in an election before. The Loony parties were simply better organized and got their people, as well as those they could influence, to the polls. It's why we now have truth in political advertising laws at the Imperial level."
'If we could get those everywhere...' some, but not all, of the privy Council thought.
"General, what's the situation on Aeeloh?"
"They're stalling. I don't know why. But we do have a humanitarian request to release..."
Monday, 3 January, 2005: 09:06 (relative)
Lanmo, Orbital station:
Sgt. Granger paused outside what their fragmentary intel said was the station's control room. Parts of the computer system was still up, there were still lights and directional signs on some of the walls, but the station hadn't had serious maintenance in what their slicer said were millennia. The only reason there wasn't dust everywhere was the station was in a total vacuum, as well as being only a few Kelvin.
While there was no real possibility of live opposition, that didn't mean that the defenses were inactive, or that it couldn't be used as good training. Therefore she and the rest of her five-man fire team stacked against the walls while the team slicer ran a diagnostic on the door control.
"Backup power, Sarge," she said. "Opening in three, two, one …" and she hit the switch, twisting away while the hatch slid open, jamming about a third of the way. That was a minor inconvenience, she was able to clear the gap in her vac armor, going right, while the next one through went left, and three dove forward, landing on her belly.
"Clear right!"
"Clear left!"
"Clear center!"
"Clear back!"
"Too bloody right, you lot," Sgt. Danni Granger said, securing her weapon and looking around. To her right were a half-dozen naked, dead slave girls with dark collars connected into the computer system. She had seen this before, some places used specially bred slaves as computer input-output. These were spread-eagled and locked in medical frames, which were connected to feeding and suction and slid into a locked glass-front cabinet. Several consoles still had power, including the defensive controls. This is why they had taken an unpowered pinnace as close as possible and then floated over. "Sparks, get your arse in here and take a look!" she said over the comm net.
"Nasty way to die," one girl said, gesturing at a slave chained down at an improvised rape table. She wore a canvas hood under a steel mask, with a dead master on top of her. Her fingers were frozen in a curl, her head thrown back, her body frozen to her last rapist, the dark, dead collar still legible on her throat. "No wonder the planet's known as 'Death World'." She gestured at the leather cord which held the key to her chains, dangling below her hood, forever out of her reach. "I wonder…" and fished the cord over the steel-encased chin of the dead slave. With a gentle twist, she released one of the slave's wrist chains.
"They're frozen together," 'Three' said. "It won't help her."
"Amazing that some galactic technology just lasts and lasts, 'Two' said, re-securing the dead slave and returning the key to its original position.
"It might be possible to refurbish this station," 'Sparks' said. "Bring in some IBM equipment to replace the girls, the reactors need refurbishment and more hydrogen as fuel. There's some pressure in the air tanks, even after all this time. Comps log files appear intact. The 'master' there (she finger-quoted as she gestured to the dead rapist) lost a drawing, and had to stay here while the others evacuated to the surface. They took the last operational shuttle down, and after five years, he flipped out, and killed himself."
"And the slave girls," Danni added.
"Yes, but they're slaves, so they don't count. I've disabled everything but the particle shielding, the defenses are down, so we can bring the ship in."
"So there's a reason the planet's called 'Death'?"
"Several thousand years ago, as in about thirteen thousand, give or take a century or two, the Republic found this place, and it has a natural stasis … well, area," Rhianna, the team slicer said as she turned to see everyone. "We're still getting orbital imagery, but there was also something of a wildlife preserve, and the inmates managed to escape, and breed."
"Wildlife? I'm thinking safari," Two said.
Rhianna snorted, "Thank you, no. I'd rather stay in the Marines, where it's safe. We're talking a T-rex analog that's ten meters at the hip, but if you want to go and try to bring back a trophy of a three meter skull, more power to you."
Tuesday, January 4, 2005, 08:22 (UTC)
Luna, Starport Hospital, Lobby.
Connie had tried. But as soon as Diana had figured out it was her, the former Wonder Woman clearly swallowed her anger and informed Connie that anything she had to say to her should be relayed through her brother. While not ordered to scram, the complete refusal to engage after that was more than clear enough.
She called Mattie and informed her.
"I can't claim I'm surprised," Mattie said. At least Diana hadn't threatened arrest or a lawsuit.
"Honestly, I'm relieved. I don't think I could have faked it long term. And the later she twigged to it, the worse it would have got."
"It's OK. You needed to try and you did. I don't blame you and I don't blame her either."
"What now Your Royal Imperiousness?"
"C'mon back to work, there's plenty to do. I'll suggest the DataPadd thing to Arthur and have Narcissa continue to keep an eye on things. Diana should treat her as a neutral as long as 'Dr. Black' plays doctor while doing the other job."
"Slytherin forever."
"You said it."
Wednesday, 5 January, 2005: 09:00 (UTC)
Luna, Port Oldridge, HIM Offices:
With a day to prepare and a stiff dose of tranquilizers, Maggie had journeyed from Grimaldi to the duplex Arthur kept in Port Oldridge proper. Wearing the best dress she'd brought with her, she walked into the conference room alongside Mattie, Arthur and the Privy Council.
"Good morning, everyone, and welcome back. Happy New Year." The Empress gestured, "I decided to merge the Privy council meeting with the Cabinet's, so my Mother, Selina and Arthur's Mom, Magdalena …"
"Maggie, dear."
"Yes, ma'am. Everyone knows Fleur, Connie and Arthur, so let's proceed." She tapped her gavel.
"Zho, ze question I am hearing ees, 'Why isn't ze war done yet?'" Fleur asked.
"The war on Aeeloh is now more of a civil war," General Von Hesse replied. "There are multiple factions, including a religious element. The city is also the size of Ireland, with roughly two hundred million inhabitants. We must take land, then garrison and start the rebuilding process, as well as clothe, house and feed not only our troops, but those civilians in our areas of occupation." She tented her fingers, "This is all laid down in our rules of engagement. We do have some allies, primarily the Red Collar slaves, but they also need to be fed and clothed. We then need to keep them occupied, which we are doing by having them rebuild the city and its transport networks." She keyed her DataPadd®, "It is now late fall on Aeeloh, winter has come early and hard, so we need to get heavy winter clothing as well as food to all our people." She put down her DataPadd®, "We control roughly sixty percent of the greater city of Aeeloh, along with our theoretical allies, the Red Collar slaves. The remnants of the Republican Guard, their Army, and their allies are another twenty to twenty-five percent. Slavers and other warlords are the remaining fifteen percent or so. For humanitarian reasons we will feed them if they show up, their price is any slave girls they have with them."
"We then free those slaves, yes?" the lead Assembly-person from EroTikan II asked. The planet was one of the few in the Empire that wholly backed the anti-slavery stance of the Empire and possessed a galactic standard technology. Had the population been higher, they would have had more MAs than Earth.
"Unfortunately not," the general admitted while casting a quick glance at Arthur as if expecting an outburst.
"Why not? The Empire does stand against slavery, does it not?"
Arthur finally chimed in and Mattie, along with most of the Privy Council, began thinking 'damage control'.
"While we are officially against slavery, implementing freedom is proving far harder then I would have ever dreamed Assembly-person Disshtok." He turned toward Mattie and added, "While those who can handle living as free persons should be freed as quickly as possible," he turned back, "the vast majority of slaves and almost all enhanced slaves are not so capable. Our pilot scale programs on Windfall have shown this and there are billions of slaves on Aaeloh, most of them enhanced."
"So they're our slaves instead of the Republic's slaves?"
General Von Hesse cut in to make sure Arthur didn't continue. "We do not treat them like slaves. We pay them for their labor. We do not beat or rape them. We protect them from the Republic and each other."
"What does that mean?" Assemblyman McDermott asked. With any luck, he'd be able to turn that question into a cause big enough to depose Wayne and install himself.
Her Majesty spoke. "There are slaves who don't want to merely be free. They want to be masters. We are not going through all this just to replace one set of masters with another."
Crises hopefully averted, General Von Hesse retook the narrative. "Moving on, we have light harassment forces in the remaining binary system of Taasbah, with two inhabited planets in each star system. That system has four industrialized worlds in a binary system, with extraction and refinement in three asteroid belts. It is the Republic's major civilian shipbuilder and their primary manufacturing center. Their exports are manufactured goods, ships, consumer goods and medical machines. Imports are slaves, raw materials, medicine, food and beverages. Notice that they do not export food." She waited a minute. "While I'm sure there are some small gardens, growing vegetables in an apartment's window box will not solve the problem. The planets of the Taasbah system are industrialized, they are not agricultural planets; and as we have taken the Republic's agricultural planets, we need to plan for restarting production or to continue production on those planets."
The Empress played with a pen, then tossed it down in front of her. "The vast majority of the people are slave girls, something like ninety-eight and a half percent. We're taking them out of display cages where they've been chained naked in the snow and said, 'Here's some clothing, food is over there, we're going to put you to work."
"So still no control over themselves. A kinder, gentler slavery is still slavery," Assemblyman McDermott said. Not that he wanted them free. He just didn't want them to look like slaves strictly for the political optics. He and a few of his backers on top, the rest of the universe stepping into the gutter when their betters deigned to pass by. That's what he wanted and what he would have after getting this ridiculous girl and her people out of the way. Look at them: old women, some career criminals, ex-commies, that prat of a Consort. The Prime Minister was attractive. He might keep her alive, but the rest of them were at best expendable so that the Terran Empire could take it's proper form. His form.
"If you have a plan to go with your objection, I'd love to hear it," Arthur said, royally annoying Selina who carefully did not let her ire show.
.oOo.
"I wish you hadn't said 'officially' there," Her Imperial Majesty said that evening as they tried to wind down.
"Our spy programs rely on enslaving and even enhancing our own people. I had to put in a qualifier or I'd have been lying, which I'm trying not to do publicly
"They're not slaves," she said firmly.
"Quack. Quack. Makes the Empire hypocrites and you a bad Empress."
"A necessary evil."
"I'm telling you, be a good Empress and run a good Empire and you'll reach you're real goals. Push those real goals too hard, like through over-expansion, your Empire falls, you die and you probably miss that goal. You not dying is more important to me then your goal or this Empire."
"Nice to know, Morton."
"'Nice to know, Arthur' would have been better," he chided.
"PHBBT!"
"Why thank you Your Majesty. Is that your first Imperial raspberry?" Arthur asked with as straight a face as he could manage.
Mattie opened her mouth to say something but closed it. Seriously, she stated, "Your comment about 'solving' the Republic. That would have to be the cheapest way of ending the war, plus it doesn't make our manpower shortage worse. But it doesn't solve the slave problems."
"McDermott had a superficially workable idea. Turn off the collars, replace their hip implants to give them new identities and then turn them loose. If they can't figure it out own their own, too bad."
"That's not what he said."
"It's what it would amount to. Casualty rate would be through the roof and God knows how many of them would just get re-enslaved. But it's fast and cheap and might work well enough that some people consider it a success. If we don't want that, we're going to have to come up with something better."
Saturday, 8 January, 2005: 11:25 (UTC)
Aeeloh system, IMS Arctic Wolf, Bridge:
Tracey Davis noticed as the Captain entered the bridge, but limited herself to a simple nod and wave of acknowledgement. The ship had entered the system ten minutes ago, and as the duty comm officer she was busy forwarding manifests and other paperwork to the system control station. He returned the nod and took the center seat, given up by the Third Mate.
The Arctic Wolf and her class's sister ships were built with 'standard' galtech and had few of the bells and whistles the Imperials kept for themselves like the advanced drives that allowed a Terran battlecruiser to leg it with most aliens' fast couriers and arrive where they wanted. They did have a sisal unit, but not one of the units rumored capable of high def audio. Theirs averaged about 1400 baud, not quite enough for understandable speech. They carried enough weapons and shields to pot the typical galactic freighter, but nothing heavier. Since they were supposed to be convoyed from A to B, this was acceptable.
The Arctic Wolf was a container ship, a relatively new design type in a very slow to change galaxy. They had an overpowered Jump Drive and grav drive and could haul a varying number of cargo packs. The more packs they had, the slower they went of course, but with no packs at all, they could pull 30 ly/hr, as fast or faster than many galtech warships. With a maximum pack load of 17,500 tons, they could still manage the typical convoy speed of 5 ly/hr. All in a package that cost just under 17 tons.
By galactic standards, the ship was drastically over-crewed with three six man crews and a two person medical staff plus a cryo tank. A galactic would have had a crew of six and no medical. But galactics trusted their computers more than humans did.
Operated by Greywolf Shipping under an Imperial contract with the Merchant Services, that meant that Tracey and her shipmates could wear an Imperial Merchant Services uniform. There were several classes of the uniform, as her normal bridge duties did not require her getting dirty, she wore a service uniform. There were three departments, but all of the service uniforms consisted of a pair of knee-high black rough-cut boots with non-skid soles, light blue leggings (some people had a 'blood stripe' denoting combat experience), and a departmental body suit. As she was in the 'deck department' her body suit was also light blue, the engineering department wore red, the steward's department green. There was only one person who wore command gold: the Captain.
Over the body suit she wore a navy blue wrap-around tunic with long sleeves. That had her nameplate on the right breast, service hash marks on the right sleeve, 'fruit salad' on her left breast, a service stripe with her current posting, and rank indicators on the shoulder tabs. As she was in a controlled environment (and the Captain had authorized it) she went without the standard beret or scarves.
As the Captain was big on cross-training, she also took a half-watch with the Engineering department, specifically the electricians. For that, she had a grey company t-shirt to wear under her jumpsuit. This would allow her to get other certifications and would increase both her pay rate and rankings.
For now, they had emerged into the system from FTL space, and she had the second watch between 08 -12:00 and 20 - 00:00. She had been somewhat relieved to have this watch, which meant that new crew like her had experienced hands available in case of trouble. Because she had the comm watch, her responsibility once they had entered into normal space was to send the backlog of messages and email, as well as to transmit things like the various waybills and other paperwork. It had started with synchronizing the ship's clocks to London and UTC. Since the Empire had multiple planets, shipping lines like Greywolf (whose operations office was in Nuevo Mars), mounted a dual clock. The green digits represented UTC which was used on both Terra and Luna, and the red numbers represented the Martian time, which was based on sols that were 2,375 seconds (39 minutes 35.24 seconds) longer than an Earth day in a year with 668 sols roughly equal to 687 Earth days. That, provisionally, meant 14 months of 30 days and 8 months of 31. Names for the new months hadn't been made official yet, but pretty much everyone agreed that 'February' would get 31 days to make up for being short changed all those years.
The ship's core was roughly a triangular prism with the grav drives at the bottom back corners, the variable geometry jump drive field generator on a short boom attached to the nose and the main cargo pack attachment point dead center of the prism's back. The bridge was up top along with the ship's lone airlock and some of the engineering spaces. Decks two and three contained the crew's quarters, the rec room and the medical bay, The bottom deck was for non-pod cargo and held the ship's safe. In total, a bit less than four thousand cubic meters for the whole ship with only the captain getting a double cabin. RHIP.
The cargo packs came in two main sizes. The smaller, a touch over 8 meters high and wide and 20 meters long were designed to hold 27 TEU (Twenty foot Equivalent Units) racked 3x3x3 with a mass limit of 650 tons. The larger units were just under 11 meters high and wide and roughly 26 meters long, meant to hold 64 TEU racked 4x4x4 with a mass limit of 1750 tons.
They were nearly full this trip with 8 large packs, the one directly attached to the Arctic Wolf and the one after that being habitat modules containing Marines and Tracey was quite happy not to be a Marine. Eighteen cubic meters person was the normal cubage given to crew on Terran merchant and mail ships. Marines were expected to get by with no more than twelve. (Slaves got as little as three and a half for short periods in much of the galaxy.) So each of those packs with roughly 2,500 cubic meters of usable space might hold two platoons (86 marines), their weapons and enough supplies to keep them in the field for months. It might be 'necessary' and 'efficient', but there was no way it could be healthy.
When they arrived at Aaeloh orbit, they'd release the cargo packs which would get tractor beamed to their destinations. Larger pod haulers carried their own shuttles to land pods on planetary surfaces, but the Arctic Wolf did not. Nor could they land while hauling pods, only when unencumbered.
Tracey regretted not being qualified to fly the cargo shuttles. They were ugly, a marriage between an orbital work pod (looking like a three-meter golf ball) and an open framework of engines and cargo pack-handling equipment. She had enjoyed flying at Hogwarts, and would have enjoyed playing on the Slytherin Quidditch team, but at the time that wasn't open to girls. Last time out, she missed the qualification score by two points, and was determined to make it the next chance she had even if that meant she'd have to change ships again.
Monday, January 10, 2005, 08:05 GMT
Hogwarts, Headmistress' Office
"Major Payne, the days when we could say 'We're adults and therefore right' have ended," Minerva said plainly. "Underestimating 'children' these days is why my husband is awaiting his execution. He'd manipulated the wizarding world for so long that he thought controlling the muggle world would simply be an amusing hobby in his old age. He was very wrong."
"Nonsense, Headmistress. The students need a firm hand which I am giving to them. There's a war on and coddling them, especially those little alien girls, does no one any good."
"Those 'little alien girls' were born slaves, raised as slaves, sold and resold as slaves and all but two had been raped multiple times before ever arriving on Earth. That trauma must be taken into account."
"Oh 'boo hoo'," the Major mock-cried. "Life is hard. Better them than us."
"That, sir, is excessively callous," Minerva said coldly.
The Major came as close to rolling his eyes as he could without actually doing so. He had a job to do. He didn't need, or want, to be liked.
After a brief pause, Minerva continued, "Very well, I shall proceed to the warning. The former slaves have difficulty discerning between what you and you assistants do and some of the things their former masters did. We are trying to convince these girls that they are no longer slaves, that they are free. You are not helping and may instead be doing considerable damage to that program."
"Oh, like I'm terrified by a flock of Hufflepuff firsties with not one backbone among the lot of them."
'That is not the point, twit.' The man was armored in his ignorance of how muggle and magic, working together as it was beginning to do, was nothing like magic alone, muggle alone or whatever mish-mash military magicians like the Major and his somewhat predecessor Leftenant Martin used. Sipping her Windfall tea, a gift from Charlie and Sprink Adams, she marshaled her thoughts and tried again.
"If one of them did 'snap', a quick painless death would be the best you could hope for. But I agree, they will not be the primary threat to you."
"What do you mean?"
"There are those amongst the students who will defend them." 'Staff as well and you had better hope I am not one of them.'
"Gallivanting Gryffindors? Another non-threat," the Major said dismissively.
"From all houses," Minerva replied. "Do not dismiss the possibility. Had I not sworn not to do so, there are students on whom I would wager a year's pay to beat you in a fair physical fight." Miss Morton, Mr. Wayne, Miss Hippersley and Mr. Ravensworth. The first two trained under some of the best martial artists on the planet. The third might be better with a knife than Miss Wayne and the last...
"Do you follow Quidditch, Major?"
The Imperial Cadet Corps instructor was surprised by the change in topic. "Not as much as I used to. I was a Cannons fan growing up and they've been so bad for so long now..."
"Did you hear the IQA passed the Ravensworth Rule late last year?"
The major brightened somewhat, "I did actually. Makes it a foul to hold a bludger for more than two seconds or intentionally throw a bludger at an opposing player."
"Theoretically at anyone, but yes."
"Bit of a silly rule. I doubt even Rubeus could hold a bludger for any length of time, let alone accurately throw it at someone. They jump around quite fiercely." He'd known Hagrid for years and the half giant had been an occasional drinking buddy during that time.
"On that we agree," Minerva said, making the point that she was capable of agreeing with him. "However, Hartley Ravensworth is one of my sixth year Ravenclaws and the reason for the rule. During the International Academic Quidditch tournament two years ago, he took out over half of Beauxbatons' starting roster that way after they injured our Seeker. Rubeus has not beaten him at arm wresting in almost three years." The sheer intimidation factor the event had created, combined with the surprisingly good play of young Mr. Morton as reserve Seeker, had won Hogwarts the tournament.
"Is he another half-giant?" Hagrid was they only one known, although rumors about Madame Olympe Maxime persisted despite her public denials.
"No. But he is a touch over seven feet tall, weighs well in excess of twenty stone and has out wrestled a full grown Abraxan stallion that hadn't yet had its whiskey that morning. I don't believe he's reached his full growth yet."
The first look of doubt crossed the Major's face before quickly disappearing. "If he is a student here, why haven't I seen him?"
"Mr. Ravensworth received a permanent deferment for Physical Education requirements from OFSTED last year. ICC is considered part of Phys Ed. He's also doing his apprenticeship this year, so he's spends quite a bit of time off campus."
"Doing what?"
"Mr. Mackrack hasn't told me, although he does say Mr. Ravensworth is doing an excellent job."
"Mackrack? The Mackrack?"
"Is there another I am unaware of?"
.oOo.
"How'd it go Minnie?" her deputy asked as she entered the office the Major had just left.
"Likely a waste of time Callista. Tea?"
"Please." A tea cup floated over from the cupboard to be filled from a stream that appeared in mid-air. "Remind me to thank the Adams's. It's got a nice kick, especially with a little lemon." A small splash took care of the request.
Minerva nodded in agreement. "The man categorically refuses to believe the students, any of the students, could be a threat to him and that he can treat them, particularly the series seventy girls, however harshly he wishes."
"Student mistreatment is a fact of life at most British boarding schools," Callista admitted. "Hogwarts is simply not as bad as it used to be. It is not some paragon of virtue. Hazing still exists, no matter how against the rules, or the law, it might be."
Both women knew that hazing could be an effective bonding experience. Neither particularly remembered it as a good one.
"I don't want anyone hurt. If we were under existing military discipline, I wouldn't expect problems. But I doubt the Major can instill military discipline here and now. Times have changed. The shock of Paris' destruction is starting to fade, for better or worse."
"Minnie, we need an army. Larger than the one we have. The universe has made that perfectly clear. The question, as I see it, is how do we obtain that army and how do we treat the people who make up that army? I don't have an exact answer, I don't think there is one. But it isn't 'like this'.
Monday, January 17, 2005, 13:15 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, Imperial Supreme Court:
"I want the son of a bitch thrown up against the wall and shot," Chief Justice Greenbriar told the assembled Associate Justices. "There is absolutely no excuse for a Terran judge to sentence anyone to a collar. Period. Even if the defendant allegedly requested it."
"And yet Judge Branson of Metropolis did so on at least three occasions," Judge Brixtal-Drash, formerly of 82 Eridani II said through his translator box. His vocal equipment just could not handle English and the best human efforts at his tongue were laughable. But he'd been the leading jurist for his people for over thirty Earth years and Michael Greenbriar was glad to have him. The wider the available viewpoints, the better.
"Once could be an error, one that would still need corrected, but three times is a policy," former Court of Cassation counselor Felix Pendezec said. "This is in direct opposition to Imperial standards. Not only should the plaintiff win his case, the judge should be censured at a minimum."
"I don't want him censured. I wan't him gone. Preferably disbarred. But we can start by correcting this travesty and any other cases along these lines. So say you all?" the Chief Justice asked to be answered with a ragged chorus of "Aye". The Chief Justice volunteered to handle writing the opinion himself. (A preliminary draft had been put together by his clerks, it wouldn't take much to finalize it.)
"Next up: Involuntary sex changes as punishment. I don't care how medically trivial galactic medicine makes it. I don't care how common it is out there. By Earth standards it qualifies as cruel and unusual."
"Medically trivial and common are accurate Michael, even though it does not apply to my species. Various parts of my gestalt are male or female at any given point. This normally changes over time. Large portions of me are currently sexless and a lack of acceptable mates means that portion will increase," Hoshasta, Speaker of Law from the aquatic moon Groombridge 1618 IIa explained from 'his' tank. While technically amphibious, 'he' preferred an aquatic environment.
"I did not know we were interfering with your procreative process," Brixtal-Drash said.
"Think nothing of it my colleague. My descendants, as you might consider them, are incorporated into a number of successful gestalts and I do not seek to further increase my count. That said, sexual identity is a core belief to many sentients, especially humanoids. Forcibly altering that identity against a sentient's will is clearly a punishment. Is it harsh enough to count as 'cruel' by Imperial standards? I am not sure."
Justice Paoletta Milanti, one of the two female human Justices stated, "The problem is that all such changes I have heard of have been from male to female. None the other way around."
"Not being equally applied does change the moral calculus of the question," Hoshasta admitted, "I believe we should hear arguments."
"Seconded," Justice Pendezec said calmly.
"Dissent?" the Chief Justice asked the room at large. Receiving none, he added, "OK, I'll get it on the calendar. Next up, another suit to allow corporations to..."
Frida, January 21, 2005, 14:07 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, HIM offices.
"A little birdie tells me that Samson v. Empire is going to be decided in favor of the plaintiff. Collaring, as it is synonymous with enslavement, will be barred as a punishment by the Imperial courts in any place enslavement itself is not legal," Connie told her liege.
"I can't really complain about that," Mattie replied.
"You will. Because it means Lex Luthor, in the body of 'Alexis Olson', will get resentenced at a minimum, more likely retried. He's not going to screw up a second time and if he's half as dangerous as you and your Uncle Clark say he is, we're screwed, blued and tattooed."
Mattie's response was cut off by a loud alarm that was heard everywhere on Luna and cislunar space.
"WARNING! WARNING! Class X solar flare detected. Initial radiation wave will reach Luna in beep Seven beep minutes. Affected areas include, Grimaldi Crater, Port Oldridge, Starport Luna, Mare Serentatis, Mare Imbrium, Mare Tranquiliatus. Take cover now. This in not a drill."
Before the message could repeat, Mattie, Arthur, Todd and Crystal had all changed into their various Green Lantern uniforms. Todd and Crystal wore the more or less traditional Hal Jordan design, a green body suit with black legs and white gloves, the GL symbol in the center of their chest and a domino mask. Arthur wore black from head to toe with green accents. No skin was visible and he wore his GL symbol as a patch on the left shoulder. Mattie's costume had no black at all. Hers was clearly inspired by Arisia Rrab's, a white sleeveless top, green miniskirt and high heeled boots with white gloves and a small GL symbol a bit above her breastbone. Her elven and goblin armor and corset were still there, just not visible.
"Mattie, did you magically shrink your battery, or use your ring on it?" Crystal asked as the four headed topside.
"My ring," she replied.
"Good, but if you get too far away from the Moon, the spells on your hair break. Take care of it now."
"I've been hoping for the excuse," Mattie replied. Green trimmers appeared on her finger tips and in a smooth motion she swept her head from hairline to the nape of her neck. Almost 30 kilos of compressed hair with interwoven metallic fibers fell to the ground. A cautious finite incatatem from Arthur and the remaining fuzz lengthened to a rough 2 feet. An unfashionable ring generated scrunchie served to hold it in place.
Earth's atmosphere would protect it. On Luna, all living quarters were deep enough underground to provide protection from the initial burst of x-rays and the later arrival of energetic protons. But not everything was underground. The Shepard Sports Complex was on the lunar surface, as was most of the transportation network. Manufacturing was done above and below the surface, but most resource extraction and all prospecting was done topside. While Starport Luna and Port Oldridge, along with the orbital habitats and transfer stations could be covered by galtech forcefields, not everyone had that level of protection available.
Trains scurried for tunnels. Those with galtech spacesuits available donned them. At risk locations were evacuated, with those who panicked endangering themselves and others. Prospecting bugs activated their magnetic shielding. Where possible, unhardened electronic devices were shut down or placed in safe mode. The Moon and cislunar space hunkered down.
Which still left plenty for 4 relatively novice Green Lanterns to do beginning with Crystal rounding up all the players on the Shepard Memorial outdoor course and taking them, kicking and screaming, to safety. Mattie scoured the active prospecting areas, hauling two bugs with faulty magnetic shielding to safety. Arthur and Todd concentrated of getting the unshielded buses in orbit and near the L4 habitats and L5 smelting operations under cover. The flare had come out of nowhere. Had there been any warning signs, those buses would have been grounded.
Having flown to a convenient viewpoint, Arthur and Todd had encapsulated the entire LEO transfer station with green energy. Their rings reported the arrival of the x-rays, detailed when they reached their peak and let them know when the flare subsided.
After they collapsed the bubble, Todd asked, "Is that it?"
"Hardly," Arthur replied. "That was just the initial x-ray surge. The fast particle storm, which will screw up radio, should arrive soon. Then we'll see if we're in the path of the Coronal Mass Ejection."
"You mean a piece of the sun is coming to get us?"
Arthur thought about it for a moment. "Technically yes. Electrons and protons in a magnetic field are ejected from the sun and thrown into the solar wind. But it's much slower than the initial hits. Could get here tomorrow, probably take three or four days and could take over two months, but that's not the way to bet. We need to hope it doesn't hit us and pray it doesn't hit Nuevo Mars. Look up 'The Carrington Event' if you get the chance."
Meanwhile and above the Lunar north pole, Mattie had domed the Chinese research station and water extraction plant there. While not officially the Empire's concern, they were a GL's concern. Crystal did the same for the under construction Tsiolkovsky City in Mare Nubium.
After the initial surge, Crystal, through her ring, asked Mattie, "What next?"
"Phase II starts in a few minutes. If you need to recharge, now's a good time," Mattie replied.
"Good idea." She told her ring "Fetch!" and within 30 seconds her lantern arrived. Touching her ring to it, she gave her werewolf version of the Oath.
"In darkest day, in brightest night
Eventually I'll get that right
Bad guys, you fools just ain't too bright
Beware my power, a nice, hard bite!"
.oOo.
An hour after the initial flare, the fast protons came and wreaked havoc on the radio spectrum. Sisal was unaffected and subspace nearly so, but the vast majority of cislunar communications were radio based and they got stomped despite the Green Lanterns best efforts. All they could do was ride it out and take care of problems the loss of comms caused. Such as a 40 meter wide, quarter megaton, hunk of iron-nickle missing the L5 smelter's star whale. While the orbit had been calculated so that Earth wouldn't be threatened, not everything else in orbit might be so lucky.
Contrary to popular belief and Mattie's bragging, Green Lantern rings are not omnipotent. If they were, Abin Sur would have not have died and Krypton would not have blown up. The net effect to the universe of those two events not happening can only be guessed at. They can't create a Boom Tube without a supply of element X. They cannot truly raise the dead, although there have been cases where a ring prevented a soul from passing on.
The key was Willpower. Mattie had a lot of it, Todd and Crystal had enough to function. But Arthur's was still developing. He'd practiced enough that flying the 10.5 light year Sol to Epsilon Eridani run took only a few minutes instead of the two plus hours a ring would do on autopilot. John Stewart, for example, could do the same run in under a minute.
So the giant catcher's mitt Arthur tried to catch the asteroid with got shredded and it was Todd and Crystal who guided the rock to where it belonged. Afterwards, Crystal and Mattie headed back to Port Oldridge to see where their help was needed.
.oOo.
"Martha! What have done to your hair!" Selina cried. The careful coiffed, meticulously up kept hair had been replaced by a raggedly cut shambles.
"Mother, 'Empress' is not the only job I have. The hair was in the way, so I got rid of it. It can always be put back later."
"You will get in that tank right now and..."
"No."
"I am your mother and Regent and..."
"Shut up, Mother," Mattie said forcefully. She was about two seconds from cocooning her mother and slapping a glowing green gag on her. "This crisis isn't over yet. Todd and Arthur are investigating the Coronal Mass Ejection and will let us know if we're done or not. Until we know, I'm a Green Lantern as well as Empress. Suck it up and deal."
Selina knew her high handedness about the bio-mods and clothing had damaged her relationship with Mattie. She wan't a fool. But she saw she was becoming dangerously close to being considered an enemy and she'd seen how Mattie dealt with those. Having the law on her side meant nothing if Mattie decided to chuck her out an airlock. She knew that Cyndi and the other elves would side with her over Mattie, until May 31st anyway, and she could use that. She also knew Mattie might be, should be, prepared for that possibility. Seeing no other choice, she backed down for the moment.
"I was unaware," she said humbly. "Once the situation is handled, you can have it regrown."
"We can grow it to a reasonable length with a charm and then get it styled. Going into the tank for purely cosmetic reasons would be vain, and bad optics. I'll go in for valid medical reasons, but not just to keep the fashion police happy." While Mattie wanted the neck fusion undone, she felt that it wasn't medically necessary, no matter how annoying the inability to bend her neck might be. She continued, "Besides, we don't want to keep putting Connie back on the throne at the drop of a hat, especially with the situation with her, you and Diana still in progress."
"Who gives a rat's ass about Diana Prince?" Selina complained.
"You don't and I don't, but as long as she can have you arrested as an accomplice to assault,, which might get you impeached from your Regency, you should."
A knock on the door turned out to be Sheila Hawking.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.
"I think we were just about done, so have at it," Selina said before leaving.
"What's up Sheila?" Mattie asked cordially.
"I need to go dirtside for a while. My surrogate's first trimester checkup is coming up and I want to be there. Do you mind?"
Mattie was surprised that Shiela even bothered to ask. Sheila's own attempt at fertilization using Uncle Doc's frozen sperm had failed. In vitro fertilization with a surrogate was the only chance that she, or anyone else, would ever have to have a child by him. "You take all the time you need. Stay down there until she has the baby if you want. I'll be fine. Anyone gives you a speck of trouble, let me know and I'll send you their head by Imperial Post. Go. Just go."
Sheila nodded and left.
.oOo.
"How does it look?" Todd asked Arthur. Their auras occasionally sparked from the impact of electron/proton clusters, but their rings assured them they were harmless. The CME was proving to be one of the fastest on record, doing an appreciable fraction of light speed.
"Looks like a hit to me," Arthur acknowledged. In about 12 hours if he had figured it right.
"Tha's what I thought. What we gonna do about it?"
"It's electrons and protons in a magnetic field. We use another magnetic field."
"To do what? Steer it? Capture it? Pop it?"
"Ooh. I like that last one. Good idea. Ring, display the CME's magnetic structure and identify weak spots." A green flash exploded from the ring leaving a flickering ghostly green aura infused into the space 'beneath' them. Six green arrows marked the current weak points.
Arthur raised a ringed fist and said, "Now we counteract the particle spins... a little help here."
Todd willed his ring to assist and the ghostly aura around the nearest green arrow twisted violently and ruptured, freeing considerable amounts of protons and electrons. Action and reaction wobbled the CME's structure, resulting in a microscopic change in its course. The breach soon sealed itself and Arthur observed the results.
"It's a start. Let's poke some more holes." After half an hour, they'd significantly reduced the size of the CME and changed its course enough that it would miss Earth. They then spent another half hour making sure.
"Mattie, this is Arthur. We're done. Heading to Atlanta because Todd says there's a steak with my name on it there. Be back later."
"Roger that. Good job you two."
Thursday, January 27, 2005, 09:35 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, HIM offices.
"Morning, Ellen," Arthur said as he entered the office where a surprising amount of the real work involved in running the Terran Empire was done. Todd stood nearby, exchanging nods with the other bodyguards Her Majesty and her official Heirs kept.
"Good morning, Arthur. Mattie's not available right now. She'll probably be busy all day."
Arthur shrugged off the statement. "Actually, I'm here to see Connie. I tried calling, but she's still not taking my calls."
"Arthur, most people would take that as a sign," his adoptive sister said from the doorway to her office. What do you want?"
"First: Happy birthday. Mom baked a cake and it'll be here as soon as it clears security." The 'thank you' he received in response was slightly friendlier than her first statement.
"Second: As you are now 17, you are considered an adult in both the Empire and the magical world. Thus, you are no longer subject to House Morton discipline as a minor. So here's your wand back." From his sleeve, he slid a polished length of blackthorn with a small garnet embedded just beyond the checkered grip. He lobbed it to Connie who snatched it out of the air.
Swishing it around a bit, green and purple sparks satisfied her and Connie quickly swapped it for the wand she'd been carrying in it's place. Not that she should have been carrying a replacement while under House discipline. Given the frequency of threats Mattie and her Heirs faced, Arthur hadn't left her defenseless, although he theoretically could have.
In reply to another 'thank you', Arthur said, "Just remember, break a law now and I can't protect you. You'll face arrest and imprisonment, up to and including Azkaban, like any other adult witch."
"You're just full of joy, aren't you?" Connie asked sarcastically.
"You want joy? Remember that Miss Prince can still have you arrested. Statute of Limitations on assault has got a long way to run and pretty much everyone in the system has seen the tape by now," Arthur replied before heading to his own office.