Twenty four years post Fires of Ibis
The Rubicon Liberation Front had two leaders. The first was its founder and guide, 'Father' Thumb Dolmayan, who served in what was almost a spiritual capacity to the RLF. It was his ideology, his charisma, his determination, that rallied the RLF.
The second, though? 'Uncle' Middle Flatwell. The man behind the curtain, who was the one that actually took the RLF and turned it into the large, cohesive force that it was. He was an AC pilot, yes, and that made him dangerous, but it was his mind that was greatest asset, not his mech.
He's a man who I am becoming rapidly convinced might actually just be an outright savant in the matters of logistics, because god damn his ledger looks like an AI had planned the entire thing.
I checked through his records again. They were just so... clean. Flatwell was managing a continent; his enemies were a very nearly limitless horde of AI-controlled drones, and scores and scores and scores of junkies; he had a short list of allies and a shorter list of people who could help him; and yet-
His records revealed to me an utterly precise array of transportations. The RLF was supplying food, medicine, arms, armour, shelter, and energy, to numerous settlements across an entire continent. His margins of error were consistently within two percent for all of them, and he rotated and organised these schedules on a semi-random basis in order to keep the PCA off their backs. Ninety percent of Rubicon was being fed regularly just because this man had decided to carry the entire rebellion on his back, which was a fucking incredible achievement when the PCA had been trying to keep that number hovering at an unstable sixty.
Flatwell had been arranging constant dick-punches to the PCA for the past twenty years- before the RLF had even started.
There was nobody on this world that they hated more. Dolmayan was marked for capture before killing; the PCA didn't want a martyr, but Flatwell? He was marked with an ongoing order: Code 42E: Major Threat to the Enforcement System, 'Kill on Sight'.
It was not the easiest thing to make an emotionless judgement system decide that it hated you specifically. I had to admire that kind of work ethic.
The man himself was surprisingly easy to get along with. Maybe it was the shared desire to punch the PCA in the dick.
'So, we can't just arrange to grow more food?' I 'typed' out. The words appeared... somewhere in his vision. His augs were extensive enough to include AR devices. That he'd given me access to a messaging program hooked straight to them was quite the show of trust. 'Even if the supply of Coral wasn't a problem?'
"The PCA doesn't want this planet to be stable." Flatwell sighed. "These RRI vacuum chambers are an excellent boon, yes, but the PCA is always keeping an eye out for food surges. While the Enforcement System is operating under a certain legal limitations on how much civilian infrastructure it can destroy, there's not much that stops it from reclassifying civilian infrastructure as seized assets or rebel infrastructure, which it doesn't have limits to destroying."
'Which means that food and meal supplies need to tick up over time, and production facilities need to stay hidden. Otherwise, they'll be marked and targeted because a stable Rubicon is one that might arrange into something problematic.'
"Precisely." He exhaled. "They're not above arranging for Dosers to hit such plants. It splits our attention, after all, and requires retaliation." He reached up, taking off his glasses so he could clean the glass.
It was a habit of his, I'd noticed. He didn't really need the glasses to see. His eyes were augmented well beyond the Human normal.
Which was actually exactly the problem for his second-gen Augmentations. His eyes were too good, and while he'd not suffered Coral Burn-In as much as some other Augments, his visual cortex had gone through significant replacement. The glasses were there to cut out the majority of information, bring things down to something approaching a normal level, and relieve some of the input. Taking them off periodically helped him keep any atrophy from happening.
The cleaning was just something to keep his hands busy.
"Medicine is something we're fortunate to not have to worry too much about." He continued. "The nature of warfare on Rubicon has a tendency to lead to either no injuries or outright death. Infantry are effectively nonexistent except in desperate situations. Disease is uncommon, but a lack of food can compromise the immune system and lead to sickness."
And, by doing a good enough job in distributing food, they weren't using more than they were making. There were periodic and irregular 'lean times' for the civilians, but that was about expected these days.
"As for combat material, BAWS supplies the majority of our armaments. Through our connections in BAWS, we've also been able to get some contact with Elcano, which have provided high-quality armaments, and Furlong, though little has been finalised there."
'BAWS is the only corporation allowed to operate on Rubicon despite the PCA's best efforts. The local branch is made almost entirely of Rubicon natives, so it's no surprise that they're sympathetic to the RLF. Furlong is local to the sector, and wants the combat data. Anything they could get from the PCA would be a great boon. Elcano was founded on Rubicon, but got kicked off by the PCA. They've got sympathies, but the upper echelons are undoubtedly after data and money.'
"Precisely." Flatwell nodded. "It's all a rather delicate balance. One that can't stand, but one that needs to break carefully lest the PCA call down their full force on this world, damn the consequences. It's a matter we've been working towards slowly, but I never expected..." He trailed off, tilting his head in consideration. "Someone like you."
I laughed. 'Don't worry, nobody did. Still, it does all raise a question; how can I involve myself in that without causing too many problems?'
That's a matter I've been considering ever since Dolmayan introduced me to Flatwell. With Flatwell extending his trust to me, I'd been able to get a very clear view on the situation surrounding Rubicon. It was pretty precise, to say the least.
'The PCA prefers to keep the RLF as disorganised and split as possible. It enacts constant measures to ensure the RLF cannot build significant amounts of force, materials, and support.' This, despite the fact that the RLF was already the largest, strongest, and most capable force on the planet that isn't the PCA. They're unquestionably the most popular, too. The average Rubiconian's consideration towards the PCA ranked them somewhere below a pile of smelly garbage. 'You run on the absolute edge of the line already. 'More and Better' wouldn't help as much as most would think. What you need is less pressure, something to divide attention and efforts.'
But there weren't that many on Rubicon that could fill the role. BAWS had passed on that the PCA might be forced to allow some Independent Mercenaries entrance to Rubicon within the near future, but the PCA would have significant control over who would come in, and even more on who could leave. Not many Mercs would pick a fight with a governmental body, especially not one like the PCA.
'I do believe there's an opportunity there.' I typed. 'I would like your input and opinion on an idea I've had.'
I saw, through the camera, as his eyebrow raised. In the low light of his room, I could make out the very faint flicker on his pupils as he opened the data package, staring seemingly into space as he read through it quickly.
"You want to feign an allied competitor?" He asked, considering what he was reading. "Hmm... as far as ideas go, that one isn't bad. You of course realise that it will draw significant attention to you."
'I'm hoping for it, as a matter of fact.' I answered. 'The PCA benefited significantly from the Institute's technology. It's one part of the reason why they have so much of a tech lead over Rubicon, and why their salvage and battle data is so valuable to the corporations. However, they did not acquire everything the Institute had to offer, only what could be recovered in the aftermath of the Fires of Ibis, and then the few years it took for them to arrive on Rubicon and 'stabilise' it. The RLF has an excess of materials, but not quality machines. You can't build the setups you need to supply much on your own, either, not with the PCA keeping an eye out. I can, and I'm already in the process of bootstrapping new industrial chains in Institute City.'
"Your drillship." He closed his hand in front of his chin. "You want to have more. Let them roam around Belius. Pick up the materials from us and turn it into a scattered, mobile force of high-quality machines ready to poke at dangerous things. You'll get the PCA's attention, alright."
'I hope to slip a few setups in all over the place.' I added. 'The drillship is stealthy, but not fast. I also hope to grow some food and 'trade' it to you in return for material. Keep up the illusion, after all.'
He nodded, and by the gleam in his eyes, he was getting increasingly on board with it.
'There is something else I am considering, as well.' I shared. 'This Contact that Dolmayan and Seria share. It represents possibilities that I wish to further explore.'
His eyes flicked upwards and to the right. It was one of the few tells he had. "You think you can replicate it?"
'I'm optimistic that it can be replicated. I typed. Of course, I was well aware that it was in fact possible. 621 and Ayre, after all. 'I don't believe it's going to be easy, though.'
He hummed, considering it. "Augmentation." He says after a moment as he figures it out, closing his eyes. "AC pilots are not common." He warns.
'You and yours are too precious to risk, I'm well aware.' I noted. 'That Dolmayan's Contact is further reliant on continuous consumption of Coral is another complicating factor. I believe this isn't actually necessary, but if I'm going to move down this path, I'm going to need to advance Coral Augmentation procedures.'
"Can you do that?" He asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.
I'd have shrugged at him if I could. 'I learned from the Institute's best. I saw everything about First and Second Generation Augmentations. They were just starting on Third when Nagai set me on fire, but I've got a fair amount of theoretical data on hand for it. The problem is, however; I'm not up to date on Augmentation Procedures. I know that Fourth Generation Augments are famed to be unstable, psychopathic, emotionless, or insane when they go right. I know that Fifth and Sixth Generation Augments no longer utilise Coral, but they're also much more refined and safer.' Mostly. Sort of. They wouldn't cook your brain from the Coral, anyway. 'If you can get me that data, then it would make it much safer and easier for me to pursue. I do not want to hurt people. Any procedures I perform will use informed and willing subjects. I won't tolerate anything less.'
"Hah." He gave a short chuckle. "You care more about Humanity than most Humans do." He sighed. "I'll support your plan. My contacts in BAWS should be able to get the data you're asking for without too much trouble. I'll also see what I can do about getting you some... informed support. People that I trust."
I smiled. 'You have my thanks.' That would certainly make things a hell of a lot easier for me.
He waved it off. "For how much it would help us, it's almost too little. For how much you've already helped us, it is definitely too little. Knowing where the PCA actually hides the Enforcement System... I do wish I could take you up on the offer to simply break it from below."
'But the PCA is more than just what's on Rubicon, and nobody is prepared to survive the retaliation for that.' I finished, parroting the exact words he'd given me when I'd made the offer.
His lips curl upwards briefly, before he reaches out to grab a datapad. "Alright. Let's talk plans..."