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Strategos (A Great Captain Roberts Tale!!) - Part 2 -

Chapter 24 - We are at war
[]


A Trial during a Declaration of War[]

Clan Counsel Chambers - Dante, Raven Alliance


"Your objection…

….is noted, saKhan Lankeneau," Khan Crowe stated. "Yes, they are dangerous. We are at war. This is not a Trial, it is not an honor duel. This is War. With a Formal Declaration of War, and have you forgotten that we are also Dangerous? Has it slipped your mind, what 'warrior' means? Traditional Trials are practice to remain sharp, they are not an ultimate dogma that cannot be deviated from. That kind of thinking is why we lost so many of our Clan in the retreat from the Homeworlds!"

He advanced on his saKhan in front of the Clan Council, continuing, "We are at war. The Sons of Plunder are an enemy, not because they are a rival, not because of some old pre-exodus business, not because they have something we want, but because They are at war, making war, against us.... And have been doing so in this region to everyone else for generations!!"

He batted the other man's fist aside almost casually, speaking as he fought, "We are at war, because it must be done, because this enemy, deserves it, because we had to accept humiliating terms from the Republic Treaty after our rout from the Homeworlds!! That is the reality, you either acknowledge it…" He delivered a series of body blows, staggering the larger man. "Or live forever with the shame of turning away victory on a squeamish point!!" His right hook staggered the other man.

Khan Crowe was defending a challenge to the voted policy of the Clan Council, the vote had been a nearly even split. The means was chosen and the champions, unaugmented, were fighting before the Clan's Council.

It wasn't merely a display of martial prowess-though it was that. To make a speech while fighting in a Circle of Equals, without being winded, without losing?

Against a larger and stronger opponent who ought to be physically superior, it was a statement of conviction.

"Yield, Ibn, you cannot win this." Crowe stated, using his saKhan's given name bare. "The deed is done, we have allies, we have obligations, and this is a JUST war. Those allies are on the side of Justice, for once." He held back, adding, "And the Clan still needs you."

He extended his hand.

saKhan Lankeneau hesitated, then, took it, and let the smaller man help him to his feet. "I yield to the superior warrior," he said. "The vote stands."

"Let us get you to a medtech to get those cuts closed up and do something about the bruises, then we can discuss strategy with our new allies. The matter of the Cameron Squadrons is settled. The AI ships and their human crews are not to be molested by our forces, or by forces operating on our side. Not until the Sons of Plunder are a broken memory."

"There will still be issues." Lankeneau stated.

"There always are. We will deal with them as they arise."


Slip of the Tongue[]

Roberts' Farm - Sevon, Raven Alliance


"So… Samantha…

…huh?" Mrs. Roberts' eyes twinkled, "Even the same middle initial. I'm honored."

“One of those ironic coincidences of history I suppose as my name is derived from a historical figure.” Samantha Booker Roberts smiled.

Helena came out of the guest room with her ride having shown up with unexpected guests.

“Lady Cameron.” Samantha suddenly froze.

I was not supposed to say that. Samantha would be blushing if she were capable of that.

"Assumed name too? So, Pitcairn Cameron, or Cerberus?" Mrs. Roberts asked casually. "Or are you from closer to Old Terra?"

“Unity City itself actually,” Helena answered hoping a half truth might suffice.

"Hm. So a Republiker, right from Old Terra itself. I'm surprised, most tourists complain about the plumbing and the lack of Infonet." she smiled, and it wasn't harsh. "Hope you slept well, I know country living can be a bit jarring for City Folk."

Aside, she said to the other Samantha, "Lack of noise you know."

“I did wind up moving to a more rural world not long after college so it has been quite familiar. And comforting in a way,” Helena smiled.

"It is better out here, not so many neighbors looking into your business, less meddling government, lower taxes, no curfews… I take it since there's no new mounds in the yard, you got on with Natalie alright. My mother-in-law can be a bit much, still being an Alderwoman even out of office."

“Yes. We were able to come to something of an understanding. So the evening was surprisingly pleasant. And I would expect craters rather than mounds if something did go that wrong…” Helena trailed off.

"Too right, we're a bit subtler here, shovel to the head, shallow grave," her eyes twinkled. "Not so often as toward the core of course, what with all their optional wars."

“That is something else I found myself agreeing with a man I both respected and hated. He saw how much of a poison pill Terra was and yet everyone still wanted it.” Helena sighed.

"Fools will want what fools want," the redhead laughed. "Alright, I've got to pick the boys up from school at noon. If we're to get anything done, we should be going, ayeh?"

“So have you found out what you wished to find out about your daughter’s descendants?” Samantha asked Helena.

Helena gave Samantha a look that rivaled Naval Laser fire.

But, it was a bit late. "Ooooh…so the rumors have some truth to them."

“I do apologize for misleading you. But yes. I am the Ageless Spacer or Eternal Princess.” Helena said, softening her expression.

"You're a Belta, everyone knows they have secrets, Helena," the younger woman said. "The stories about their lives spanning decades longer are out here, you know…"

“It is worse than that… I might as well admit this too. I am Helena Cameron. “The” Helena Cameron. Youngest daughter of Simon Cameron. Younger sister to Richard Cameron. The last official ruler of the Star League and Terran Hegemony. Your other guest is my older sister, Elizabeth Cameron. She’s very much a mess right now and I’m not even sure she is even ready for a simple hug, let alone confronting her with her real identity. A lot of centuries of abuse to unpack first..” Helena was certain she would be in trouble for this later with Acton Howe.

"Hm, well, coming out here's a right move then… and keeping it quiet. If you don't act like a royal prat, I'll ignore you're kin with Dumb Dickie Cameron who set the SLDF on my ancestors, aright?" Samantha's grin wasn't hostile, nor her posture, "My family's old Sevoners, and some from Pitcairn, and points outer, long nasty history with the Star League."

“Thank you. It’s a secret I know that if it gets out could cause a lot of problems.”

"Problems for the Terrans you mean." Sam Roberts laughed. "I'm sorry, I know, you have enemies… but not here, not now, not unless you're going to channel the ghost of Amos Forlough. And that's not your style, I've seen it."

“There are those out here that might not be able to separate me from that, but yes I imagine there are many on Terra or who want Terra that I have to worry about far more.”

"Yah, but you're with a better class of folks out here," Samantha stated firmly. "Figured out what our ancestors did-nothing that way but staybehinds."

“It’s refreshing to finally allow myself to be me. You’ve allowed me that and I thank you for it,” Helena smiled.

"It's why we left old Earth generations ago," Samantha asserted. "To be free of that… stuff."

204’s human drone seemed to fidget drawing attention to her.

“My ladyship, I do have a request. I want a name now. I think this would be a good time for it. I think your host would appreciate it.”

"Oh you poor dear! You don't have a name?" Samantha (Mrs.) Roberts was solicitous, "You let her go with just a number?"

“That is a long story and something I do need to make up for. You fought for these people. So I dub you Stacey Cameron Roberts. I’ll grab a bottle of wine for the shuttle ride up.” Helena smiled, tapping the brand new Stacey on her shoulders.

"Nah, not something soft like wine, Helena." Sam said. "Proper Outworlder ships need Whiskey! You slap wine on Solahwallah hulls!" She laid a friendly hand on 204's remote, "She's one of us now, don't you know."

“I would be a poor guest to not honor your customs.” Helena smiled.

"Right then, I know whose is best in the valley, come on, we've shopping to do! And a party to hold!"

“I suppose we do. Come on you two. You’ve earned this. Be an important learning experience for you.” Helena grabbed each drone’s shoulders.

"Solahwallah, ju tok Belta?" 204 asked as they walked to the Ute.

"Ayeh, Ju Comp Beltalowda? Ju akzent's Coreward."

"Comp Golden Hind, tot." 204 said.

"Is Hokay. Mi F'um Freestahs, ten gen'rations sep, still tok it at home, but if we keep chattering in the old tongue, I think your Lady will have an aneurysm trying t'parse."

“Now this will get interesting. Seeing how my family actually parties. In a completely foreign setting.” Helena laughed.

"You'll be drinking for three, since these two are synthetics." Samantha warned.

“Simon is already on my case about how much I drink but this time it is for a good cause.” Helena laughed again.

"Mason Calabraho makes the best liquor in the region, and he owes me a favor or two," Samantha stated. "Which is good, because his stuff is expensive. They export as far as the Federated Suns from his place."

“Well if we can help in any way with the preparations just say so. It is poor manners for a guest to not contribute to their host’s feasts where I’m from,” Helena smiled.

"Dancing shoes, and maybe practice your singing voices. Christenings get rowdy and loud... which reminds me I'll have to fetch my husband's fiddle from the shop…. and we'll have to stop at Marjorie's and get you some proper outfits."

“Okay, we got your boys to fetch and all this other stuff to do so we may need to divide and conquer,” Helena thought for a moment.

“Stacey you get the fiddle. Booker you were the best babysitter in the fleet so get the kids. We’ll take care of the rest. Sound like a plan?” Helena said after a short pause.

"It's a bit of a drive… can you ladies drive a car?" Sam asked. "If you can't, then just remember: Farm Wife. If I didn't know how to manage time, I'd have drowned in work ages ago."

Stacey and Booker looked at each other.

“Can it be that much more complicated than what we do? We are warships and much more massive than a civilian car…” Stacey asked.

"Okay, Driving lessons, Sam said clapping her hands. “Unless you know how to clutch a manual transmission… So first stop, is Johnson, he's one of the best drivers in the region," Sam Roberts said. "No arguments, driving a car is not flying a shuttle."

“Yes Mum.” the AIs said in unison then started giggling.

"Teenaged?" Samantha whispered aside to Helena.

“They do rather act like it don’t they? No, they’re both centuries old and having all sorts of devilish thoughts.”

"Probably best you lay down the laws on flirting then, some of the single boys won't notice the artificial traits in the evening," Samantha stated. "I'd as soon not have to stitch up a randy young man who didn't know the difference."

“You heard our host. Be polite, but no leading them on. Any medical attention or legal action because you two were not proper ladies and I will find the most boring, dirty, disgusting, perhaps even degrading scut work I can for you two and have you do it for the next 90 days,” Helena warned sternly.

“Understood!” The two AIs were still smiling.

With that, Samantha Roberts put the Ute-bodied four by six into gear, and launched, providing something of a wild ride that lasted for several minutes.

The AIs started cackling madly at the new experience for them which made Helena facepalm. She knew she’d have to be finding that scut work.


Discussion of strategy of economics[]

Office of the President, City of Algolmarle - Alpheratz, Raven Alliance


There was a line…

…waiting for repair at the Quatre Belle shipyard. The line would be shorter soon. It will have to be.

Customers drive expansions, or reactivations, and there was a growing line of reservations at the shipyard that began two years ago. "We can divert some of this to Northsun, can't we?" President Avellar asked quietly.

"We are going to have to." Khan Alberto Crowe stated. "The larger problem is paying for everything, quiaff?"

Avellar nodded, "Yes, it is. Right now, we can use war emergency and credit notes, but the Escudo isn't strong as a fiat currency, and doesn't have exchange values near the level we're going to need it to in the long term." Turning, he added, "So we need to work out a standardized trade currency with the Clans for real."

"We can not mint more Kerenskies," Crowe nodded. "And your economy can not handle Work Credits indefinitely."

"Yeah, that. The projected needs of both the Merchant Marine and the Clan. Along with the rest, mean we need to open slipways for foreign customers-customers who pay in hard currency. That can pay for the upkeep, staffing levels, and expansions of facilities over the long term."

"The Sea Foxes have made an offer, quiaff?"

"They have and I've had Comstar Bank and the Republic making offers-with demands." Avellar sighed. "The offers are too good to ignore, but they come with a moral price."

"How bad is the moral price?" Crowe asked.

"Sacrifice of a loyal subordinate bad." Mitchell stated. "A prime rate loan to prop up our currency for the duration of the war, but at the end of it… they want both the Erinyes and Amanda Roberts handed over to their custody."

Crowe spat on the deck. "You told them 'no'."

"I want to tell them no, but this war? It's breaking us-the expense of getting the rest of the yards operational of getting the Northsun facility running, feeding allied armies? The additional taxes and tariffs, sales of auctioned prize ships, isn't going to cover it."

"But you told them 'no'." Crowe insisted.

"Yes, for now, but I don't know if I'll be able to say 'no' later." Avellar stated. "We need to fix our currency issues, we need an integrated national scrip, which means one of us has to give way-either your Clan has to accept that 'work credits' can't be reset, or I'll have to convince billions of our people to abandon the idea of savings."

"The root of your concern…"

"WE may be facing a civil war after this is done. One precipitated by an economic collapse." Avellar told him. "At minimum we'll be facing a recession and inflation at the same time, just off what's had to be built thus far."

"What of the offer was that good, quineg?"

"It was that good." Mitchell stated. "Which means needing a better solution or frankly for the nation and for your Clan. I'll have to give in to the Republic's ambassador to prevent collapse for millions of your Clansmen and billions of my citizens."

"Hence why we are discussing economics," the Snow Raven said sourly. "because it has to do with strategy."

"It does." Khan Crowe inclined his head, "What do we need?"

"A massive injection of foreign capital, to cover our infrastructure recovery and improvements. More than that, we need that capital to drive wealth generators in the trade and manufacturing sectors so we can generate enough wealth to pay it back in a reasonable amount of time."

"Meaning?"

"Foreign markets for our goods, Khan Crowe, and domestic markets that can actually afford to buy more. We need net surpluses in large amounts, but more than that. We need foreign demand for Alliance products in even larger amounts."


Problem that lies in the Data[]

Everything in the Universe…

…is Data. At least, to TQF-066M5D, everything is data. The Numbers, impressions, cause, and effect the interaction of stellar gravity and masses. To the outcomes of horse races or the actions of soldiers and nations, it's all data, all numbers, it can be examined, trends detected.

<Oh, this is not good. Not good at all.> She was comparing data, now that it was readily available on steady channels and she had time to look at it.

To compare it, and to make projections based on other data.

204 was having the first…shore leave? First whatever you call it when you're an AI and not working hard on data analysis as her left hand. 'Hand'. Hah.

Revenants of the Star League (Truk)

Human-like Avatar of the AI, Truk

<"Truk, I need you to check my data and outcomes here, on your spare servers. Tell me I am wrong!!">

The response came back after five hours objective time from the read-receipt. <"You're not wrong. You need to show this to Billie.">

The chain of command exists, to filter bad information and allow a commander, or in this case, a royal sovereign, to make decisions that are actually useful.

<BILLIE!!! Check this out, there's a PROBLEM!!>


Attempts to right the ship from a Far[]

The Bullet, City of Genevia - Terra, Republic of the Spherre


"They can't…

…sustain." David Lear looked worried. "Devlin, this war is going to break the Raven Alliance like a twig-the capital investments they've made might turn dividends in twenty years, but right now, they're bleeding hard. This is going to collapse them as a nation if something isn't done."

Stone frowned, "Victor?"

"The Shadow Knight you sent to look into the Erinyes situation says this war's bigger than they're even admitting. One world was savaged so badly they don't know where the survivors were even taken, there were multiple Fleet Engagements last month, and the Ravens lost two destroyers at Sevon V…and I got a look at what's motivating the Outworlders and their Clan allies. Devlin, we can't stand by and let them fail."

"So it's that bad... David, prep a relief package. I'll ram it through the Senate, Victor, help him out with that, I don't want… I don't want the nightmare to come back." His eyes were haunted, "What do they need to keep them from collapsing in the short term?"

"Money," Lear said. "The Outworlders are overextended on their currency reserves, right now their hard currency is backed by a micro-fraction and devaluing daily, when it hits that there's so much cash in circulation, they're going to fold like a cheap tent, double, maybe even triple digit inflation, local banks will fail, the government will end up unable to pay wages, I give it a year before they hit crisis at best. If we don't do something, there will end up being more than one group of Pirates on the Federated Suns border with warships and an active need to raid for food."

"We can't let that happen." Stone judged. "Put it together, a proposal they'll accept, I won't have the peace destroyed by this, we're supposed to be better than that."

"We can't couple it with the Roberts issue." Lear noted.

"Of course not, why would we?" Stone asked. "Dave, she might have a sleeper program, yeah, but that doesn't mean she does. When the first reports turned up I had that concern, and so did you… but it's been three years since then, she hasn't suddenly found a new religion, and there's time to be convincing and get that kid help… after the chaos has died down."

"You're still thinking… what?" Lear asked. "What's your thought process on this, Devlin?"

"I'm thinking the Roberts Girl might make two people who've successfully overcome forced brainwashing by the Blakists… or she might be a long term plant and part of a long term plot by the Remnants… but it's only a distant problem, if it exists," Stone sighed with a sad and haunted expression he pushed aside mentally. "Which means we can drop that priority for the moment and focus on the wider picture-said picture being, preventing a failed state on the coreward borders of the Combine and the Suns."

"The Caspar fleet?"

"We won't have leverage if we make turning them over an issue, Dave." Devlin stated. "We need someone monitoring them. For now, the Clans have already stepped up for part of that. Perhaps, maybe we won't have to deal with them going Skynet, but if we're going to be able to help stop them, we aren't going to be in a better position than as a friendly backer."

“We know one of them for sure was in Blakist hands for some time. We should push for examining that one ourselves at least.”

Stone's frown deepened, then, it evaporated, "I know how, Dave." he said with a grin. "I think, I know exactly how… and we might even get them to invite us to do it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Tech Support," Devlin stated. "We offer the Outworlders access to Blue Nose Clippership's files, along with trained shipyard personnel in support of the war, as part of the foreign aid project you're going to offer Mitch Avellar. REAL tech support, but that's likely going to get us the access to do it without needing to resort to demands or underhanded means." Then Stone's expression softened, "I'd like to meet the AI from the Erinyes anyway-the way the Roberts girl put it in the hearing, she spoke as if that computer had suffered... if it did… then it's another victim of the Master… and if it's just a really good simulation, then we can prove it."


Discussions of AI and Dinner Plans[]


""She said…

…'complex', she did not say 'insane'!!" Wilhelmina "Billie" Siegel stared at the jump plot data from the previously unnamed system holding, according to reports, a bootleg M-9 installation.

Then she met the eyes of Fleet Captain Foster and said, "I do not think the navigators assigned to my unit can manage this safely."

"I thought you had good people, Billie," he said. "I think-"

"The support group pulls navigators from the Merchant Caste, Dave, they are specifically not trained in non-standard insertion, everyone YOU trained went to Warrior Caste vessels. I have Merchant Caste Hulls on Assignment."

"That… represents a problem," Dave Foster allowed. "They handled the combat actions here well enough… but that was non-standard entries into standard points or outboard…"

"Exactly. An outboard insertion would put them several Light Hours out from the station, which means weeks in newtonian space to reach the station. The closer approaches have narrow positioning requirements-the risk of collision is quite a bit higher than I can justify with the kind of officers I have available."

"We've been training Privateer navigators in non-standard insertion techniques." Dave frowned, "Which means… I will get your navigators, Billie, but it means you may have to sit on grumbling of 'chalcas' arrangements, most of ours are either retired military and four jumps out, or Outworlder natives and locals, and not accustomed to Clan organizational standards."

She nodded, "That will help, it will also underscore some desperately needed changes in the Touman and in the Clan… changes you predicted after the retreat from the Homeworlds twenty years ago."

"Aff," he nodded. "With the navigators, how soon can your ships push for Base Alpha?"

"Is that what you are calling it?"

"For now. We DO need a better name, and using the coordinates is completely out of the question."

"Port Orphan," Billie suggested.

"That is… poetic?" Dave noted. "Really?"

"YOU spend months interacting with Erinyes until she seems more like a person than most of the people we grew up with, David." Billie half-scolded. "The station on that end is an AI installation, and it has been isolated for centuries to the edge of madness, 'orphan' seems appropriate, until she is adopted anyway."

Dave made a note on the paperwork and let the word processor and database populate it onto the official report paperwork. "Port Orphan it is-at least as a working code for the time being."

"When they cut off your legs… they left you functional, quiaff?" she asked.

"I thought you had a date," David noted. "Aff."

"Good," she nodded. "Wheelchair or feet, you are taking me to dinner tonight, mess hall Seven. I expect charming company, and we can be creative later in the null-gee section."

He blinked, "Uhm… Okay… Aff, dinner."

"Nineteen Hundred, do not be late, and do not be disappointing."


Intelligence Report and Looming Disaster to come[]

Collective Cyberspace of Destroyer Squadron One


"The title pages on the report…


======================================================================================================

Active bases for the Outworlds Military Corps (OMC) Privateer Fleet

Fleet Base Northsun-Northsun system. Fueling dock and inspection yard, light maintenance up to 500,000 Hydrogen Tons. FB Northsun serves as a training and indoctrination center for the Privateer Fleet, and as a Reserve Base for the Snow Raven Touman, as well as a logistics distribution center for both Clan Snow Raven's active units and the Privateers.

Garrison is run by the Northsun People's Militia (Outworlds Military Corps)

Fleet Base "Ruins of Tuesday"-Joan's Post system. Fueling station and light repair yard. Classified for light duty, has a recruit intake and R&R facility, serves as a mustering point for both Privateer Fleet units and Clan Snow Raven units, currently under direct OMC active duty administration.

Current Garrison is OMC "The Parliaiment's Own" (Aviation Regiment)

Fleet Base Johnson: Garrison and administration hub for the coreward/spinward end of Cerberus Province. Garrison is CSR "Kappa Galaxy" 2nd PGC cluster Firebase Michtal: Currently occupied by Clan Snow Raven's 4th combat cluster Kappa Galaxy and the 2nd Battalion Northsun Militia (OMC).

Firebase Tresspass: 1st Garrison Cluster and Cerberus 2nd battalion combined arms detachment (Provost), home to 3rd Combat Engineers (OMC), and 22nd Air Support Squadron (OMC).

Devil's Breath Military Penitentiary-Devil's Breath, Garrisoned by the Snow Raven Watch and 11th PGC.

======================================================================================================


"They have been busy," she noted. "Most of these units did not exist four years ago."

Billie Hoel's avatar made a show of looking at the reference files. "They spread out a LOT of hardware, this could be better defended if it were more concentrated."

<BILLIE!!! Check this out, there's a PROBLEM!!>, 66's transmission interrupted whatever Victoria was going to say, and the file headers disrupted the virtual environment enough to get both senior AI's attention.

"Oh crap…"

"They can't sustain this!" Billie and Vicky said it almost simultaneously. "They're badly overextended…"

"It's not the coverage, Vicky, it's the costs of resupply. Sustainment and support are going to break the Raven Alliance if this war goes much longer than six more months… and it will. The Outworlders don't have the production infrastructure to match what they have to spend, and neither do the Snow Ravens."

"Would we?"

"No," Billie shook her avatar's virtual head. "We could manage for another year, tops, but that is because we have a lot less home territory to cover and have not been hit with the kind of raids and strikes the Outworlds has… but this is big scale, and big scale means big finances… There are major logistics holes that need to be filled in a hurry or it all falls apart."

"Is there a solution?" Victoria asked.

"Of course there is, but I need… I need to borrow processing cycles in parallel. We need to present Her Majesty with a plan of action to keep our new allies from imploding… At least, long enough to soften the blow and allow for recovery-they needed to wait five years for what they're trying to accomplish before kicking this off, but the 9th Royal CAAN and their fellow mutineers didn't let them wait those five years… so… we need to work this out."

“Okay, first problem is we’re just a single populated world with some spacers and this is an entire nation. We can’t back this entirely by ourselves for very long.” Dennis offered.

“They do have other allies and they are going to contribute eventually so all we really need to do is buy time.” Billie Hoel’s avatar nodded.

“Golden Hind has been busy mining the outer systems so we can get some much needed materials from them via trade that we can then bring here. We also have the reserve accounts scattered around here and there we setup to help buy the stuff we needed over the centuries. So a raw injection of cash from those for services would do wonders.” Victoria offered.

“Assessing current economic forecasts, structuring loan terms…. I think the best we can do is buy them two years. If their other allies contribute it’ll still hurt post war but it will not result in complete collapse.” Billie Hoel calculated.

“They won’t be able to keep the Privateer service post war. Financially or politically. I knew the latter was true already but the former just confirms it.” Helena joined the conversation.

“Sending you the proposals, your Ladyship. I think these are the best we can do without collapsing ourselves in the process.” Billie Hoel seemed saddened yet certain.


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