Strat-4 Chpt-40

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Strategos (A Great Captain Roberts Tale!!) - Part 4 -

Chapter 40 - Phase 3

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Standing up to the Monster

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Kaiser’s Redoubt system...

As the Jump effect cleared her systems, Billie Hoel reached out to the rest of her task group, establishing ATACs connections.

Billie Hoel

<I have to admit it is strange. I am noticing how empty I am now. It is so odd. I guess I just got used to the company. But focus. We have enemies in system.> Billie Hoel admitted.

<Small fries, but a lot of them.> Samantha noted.

<Yeah. We’re going to get fighter swarmed. Means more smashing than grabbing this day and our AMS bins probably running dry but if we keep focused on that we’ll be okay.> Billie calculated their odds.

Titan carriers, a quartet of them. Their fighters and another quartet of Mule Qs Dropships with their own fighters.

There was no doubt a lot of nuclear tipped missiles would be on their way in the near future.
Billie’s drone fighters spread out to form a screen and feed targeting data.

They were horribly outnumbered as usual, but their stores of Capital missiles had been freshly topped up and their Naval Lasers seemed to almost always be operating in AA mode now. Bracket Fire from their Naval PPCs would also help cut down the numbers of enemy fighters before they got too close. But there were enough Billie knew there was no getting the boarding parties away until they dealt with them.

<Here comes the first barrage of canned sunshine.> Billie vectored Ottillie and Samantha into close formation so their AMS could overlap while putting Regina on the far side.

The Sons of Plunder were clearly starting to figure out which one of the ships was the command ship as the missiles were all clearly tracking on Billie Hoel.

One by one the missiles were swatted down by the combined AMS batteries.

Fighters on both sides were vanishing from the sensor screens, Billie’s faster than the Sons of Plunders’ as even with their supporting fire the disparity was too much.

<This is bad, Billie.> Ottillie noted.

<I know. Keep your pilots close Regina, they’ll get swarmed out there. I got spare drones not spare humans in my holds.>

<Roger. Should we call for the Reserve group then?> Regina answered.

<No. They need to stay available for Mina. We’ve got this as long as we watch each other’s backs.>

Another wave of nuclear tipped missiles was launched. This time some of the missiles turned out to be decoys to draw AMS as they were destroyed but again thanks to overlapping the AMS fields none got close.

<See, but let’s not get too full of ourselves. Keep your primary focus on those fighters. Time to press in on those Dropships. Get your Naval Autocannons ready, ladies.> Billie was suddenly more cheerful.

The Sons of Plunder fighters seemed satisfied that they had the drone fighters well in hand and began making for the formation.

<They die foolishly. They know they cannot harm us yet they continue to try.> Ottillie said as she swatted a pair of fighters out of space with little effort.

<We’re almost there.> Billie noted the range.

Her last drone fighter was now gone.

While they no longer had the targeting data from Billie’s drones they no longer needed it as the enemy fighters were coming to them and their carriers were running to stay out of range of the formation.

As Anti-Aerospace fire and bracket fire swept through the Sons of Plunder fighters as they closed one managed to get past and slam into Billie’s port side.

<That’ll leave a mark. Damn. They still stalled us enough that we’re not going to get a lot of captures here.> Billie was frustrated. Fort Simmons system...

When Stacey’s group came out of hyperspace what awaited them was a shock indeed.

Enemy vessels and fighters were firing on each other.

“Ma’am?” Her communications officer asked.

Human-like robotic drone of the AI, Samantha Booker Roberts

“We stay back and let them hash it out until we know who is who and why they are shooting at each other instead of us. Advise the rest of the task force accordingly.” Stacey answered.

One enemy vessel began pulling away from the others, Aegis. It was broadcasting, loudly, its identity as SLS Brighton.

<<“I am Lord Captain Boris van Clauffen Benton Halford the Fifth. I will smash your puny destroyers then deal with these traitors, shirkers, and deserters. Make peace with your maker.”>> The Brighton broadcast.

“Well I’ve met my maker, the shipyard AI at the Luna yards was surprisingly nice. But that’s probably not the maker you mean. I don’t think that maker wants to hear from me right now because I’m about to remove a lot of their creations from the face of the universe and when I get back to port I’m going to run a metric ton of fresh coolant through my heat sink grid like it’s your blood.” Stacey answered.

“I will still destroy you.” Stacey could swear she heard the color draining from Boris’ face.

“No human Captain has survived battle with me. You are in front of me, closing the gap. If you value your life, be somewhere else.” Stacey countered.

Whatever he was about to say, was interrupted.

Stacey could see his engines had stopped, leaving the SLS Brighton adrift, and there was incoherent shouting in the background.

<<"Is this on?">> a young man's face appeared, <<"Hello?">>

“We read you, who is speaking.”

<<"I'm…the Captain's been deposed, whoever you are. If you let us go home, that would be quite nice…">> She could see the ranks-a Spaceman 2nd Class (E-3?) were smudged with blood and soot. <<"Are you really with the Star League? Is there a real one out there?">>

“I came off the Luna yards in 2711. So yeah, there’s a real Star League out there. So I’ll tell you what I’m feeling merciful after 400 years so I’ll let you retreat in good order.

<<"So the old rumors are true? That we're not, that is, that the 'emergency measures' were really about a Mutiny?? They've been lying to us?">> He was persistent.

“Would seem so. And I’d suggest a trip to medical, I’m pretty sure you’re in shock.”

<<"We enlisted to join the Star League Defense Forces, Do you know what they've had us doing? What we've been doing??">>

“Yeah. I’ve been to some of your worlds, seen what was there. It’s okay to talk about it.” Stacey answered.

"Just a moment, please don't go away…" he turned from the camera pickup and a hurried, hushed discussion. "...they're for real, Toby, it's the way we can…no…yes…yes alright…what've we got to lose?" And then, he was back.

"Ma'am, we're not going to face charges for killing the Captain if he was a rebel, are we? We all signed up to join The Star League Defense Force not be slavers and terrorists! But if it's not real, then…"

"Given the available evidence it would seem likely that the JAG office would be willing to forgo those charges.”

<<"Ma'am, I…we need order..we need orders, ma'am, and if you have a spare Officer or two?">>

“Yeah I got some people I can send over.” Stacey relaxed her human form drone into the command couch. “Bryant, you and your marines are about to go into a potentially tough spot. From the sounds of it they’re kids getting some real culture shock. I mean their new leader didn’t even bat an eye at me being a Caspar. So he’s either really in some serious get him to a doctor shock, dim, or so ready for anything that you could tell him the sky of Earth is red and he’ll believe you. None of which are good and if this is some ploy, well I know what I’m sending you into. If it comes to that I’ll turn it into highly radioactive razor blades.”

---

Half an Hour on the ship, and Bryant knew what the Sons of Plunder were shooting at one another over.

Meeting a crew of college-level draftees pressed into Warship service with only a basic training on their equipment was telling. More telling, was what it said about Churchstone itself-they'd been insulated from the reality of the government that ruled them for so long, their attitudes were far more in line with the Actual Star League, and when they discovered it, there was a revolt across the entire fleet group in this system.

A civil war triggered because idealistic young men and women had discovered they were serving a monster, and that monster had been monstrous their entire lives.

"Jesus, they want to enlist..." Bryant shook her head in amazement.

---

Battle for Benton's Cradle

Benton’s Cradle System...

Seizing the Jumpships was the easy part. Being contacted by the Station? Not so much. Two transmitters, one was making demands and threats, the other was asking questions.

The kind, that make you hesitate to kill them.

"...they're divided, half the security forces are bottling the other half up over it." Jonah explained, "Which let me lead a team of able spacers to meet with one of the factions-the one that wants to surrender to Elizabeth Cameron, at any rate."

“Honest assessment, Jonah, could you keep a lid on things there until she gets here with what we have?” Cossack asked.

"Ma'am, if the Katrin Loyalists didn't have control of the life-support sections, we could probably just sign paperwork. I need to borrow some of your armed remotes-the ones you got from Admiral Murakami, and some of the remaining marines from the rest of the group-because without that life support, these people are going to die and the only ones left are the kind we ought to be killing."

“All right, Jonah. I’ll contact Mina, see what we can scrape up. Fortunately I can run on pure automatics so anyone left that can help should.”

---

Scenario: the capture of Benton's Cradle

Defending forces:

4 companies of Marine Infantry (Regular/Fanatical)
1 company(12) Battlesuits (use Word of Blake table)(Regular/Fanatical)
1 lance, Wasp LAM (Regular/Questionable)

Attacking Forces:

2 points Protomech (Clan Veteran/Reliable) Modified for offworld/hostile environments
1 Company (20) Battle Armor (Snow Raven A table) (Veteran/Reliable)
6 Mark VII assault shuttles

Scenario uses confined Maps, there are four maps. Defending forces may emplace mines in hidden locations on each map. No more than 300 points worth of mines total.

Attacker's mission is to destroy the Defenders with the following caveats:

Map 1: Defender is under forced withdrawal
Map 2: Defender is under forced withdrawal at fifty percent losses
Map 3: Defender must hold-at-all-costs (fight to the last man).

The fight is to be managed only one map at a time, and whatever order you use, the same rules apply.

LAM in fighter mode

This battle is fought indoors on a space station, Gravity is considered to be between free fall, and .5 gee (assigned per map), it is suggested that the first map be .5 gs (per Tac Handbook) and the last map be free-fall (zero gee).

As this is an enclosed station there is insufficient room for the LAMs to operate in Fighter mode and a maximum Elevation of 20 for Airmech mode.

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Ambush at Kinnaman

Kinnaman System...

There are things you don't want to say… or hear. Chief, among them being "They brought a Texas."

You don't want to even think that.

It's right up there with 'They predicted your emergence point, and put a Lola nearby'.

A Texas, a Lola, a Riga, an Essex II, an Aegis, and just to rub it in harder…

Texas Class Battleship

"We're in the kill box. ******!!"

“Amanda, there’s a gap in their box… If we hurry, we can slip out before they start nailing us from multiple sides. We’ll be in a running gunfight with that Lola but we'll last longer than we will against that Texas.” Piorun’s voice came over the comms.

"We take the gap by their Lola. Lori, send the call for backup. Our full situation," Amanda snapped. "If he's doing it right, the enemy group commander will flex the formation to keep us in until they can close range with the big boy."

"You don't think the 'big boy' is their command ship? It's a Texas!!"

"Gut feeling," Amanda muttered. "It's too perfect, whoever set this up understands. Sound alarms, all crew into suits. We HAVE to go null pressure."

“Plus, it’s certainly squawking, but it almost looks… I don’t know, random. Whatever that Texas is sending out, I don’t think it’s tactical commands.”

OWS Evanescent Combat Aerospace Group leader, Sayh Yeh

"He's the bruiser, not the leader. Gimme a timer on our range before we're in range of that Lola. Saya, get all our fighters out of the barn."

“On it,” Saya said as she finished snapping her helmet on.

Amanda looked at her, "I said all of them. We're going to lose ships, that's guaranteed. You have a fighter, get out there. The Larry has extra spaces, and so do the others. You can't park on another ship if you're burning in the wreckage of this one."

“Understood.” Saya saluted, then departed CIC.

"Chester, get our Marines embarked on their shuttles and ready for launch. Make sure you get everyone who isn't absolutely necessary to run the ship."

"That sounds like suicide, you're not planning to ram, are you?"

"NO! God no… but we're going to pass closest to the gun range on that destroyer, so… Fewer casualties when they hammer us if your guys are already en-route out of the kill box when we cross that."

“We’ll position to keep those Pentagons off you, Amanda. Then swing back around as soon as we can to help with that Lola. We’ll be too far out of position to help with her for a few minutes,” Piorun reported.

"Keep the formation covered, Piorun! WE are the lightest, cheapest, least upgraded ship in the unit. That makes THIS ONE the distraction to get the rest of you room to actually escape or maneuver."

“We’ll have a better chance if we all form up to mutually support each other. There aren’t many ships in their formation that can keep up with us, let alone overtake.”

"We have our BEST chance if you keep the rest of the formation from being picked apart piecemeal. This is an envelopment, and their LIGHT ships have more firepower than most of our formation by themselves. The formation is to take advantage, and form up for combat once out of the box!"

It's the calculus of combat, ugly and simple. Just because the shooting had yet to begin, didn't mean it wasn't already combat. "Chester, leave me a Marine team, no more than five guys in suits. Everyone else in the Marine section un-ass, and make for Piorun."

"What are you planning?"

"We'll need more distraction than one ship."

Lori Crowe, 2nd command of the OWS Evanescent

“Recommend Cossack instead for the marines, she’s got the crew facilities.” Lori advised.

"Works," Amanda nodded. "Do that. Lori, I wish I could tell you to get off, but I need you and Sam up here for when we succeed."

“Yeah, I know. That Lola is going to get damned close before we get out of here.”

Lola III Class Destroyer

"We've got fifteen minutes until we're in range of that Lola. I'll be suiting up with the Marine team."

"What's the play?"

"Erinyes," Amanda said. "I'm going to visit our hosts, and thank them personally for the welcome party."

“We’ll need some fire support to get them to hold their engines long enough for you to get there. Saya you listening?” Lori checked the holo display.

//“I will get my pilots into their aft and shoot them up, Captain. But we will not be able to stay there with this furball.”\\ Saya offered from the flight deck.

"That's right, a Lola III has shit for point defense. Lori, you've got the Conn, get through and out. I'll be up at the ventral nose airlock with packs and five lunatics."

“And then?"

"Then, we'll be walking and hoping that we've got enough reaction mass to slow down. Anything bigger and their friends might see it." Amanda commented.

“In the land of bad ideas…” Lori mumbled.

"I am the Heir to the throne of the Kingdom of bad ideas!!" Amanda laughed. "Get my ship out of this kill box. It's finally paid for."

“Aye, Captain.” Lori said flatly.

---

Mounting Cavalry

The call…

Came with a full situation laydown. David Foster didn't spend much time weighing the options. The scenario was one they'd war gamed, planned for, thought out.

All hands on deck, this was the kind of fight that needed the whole Command group just to pick up the mess after.

"We go in," he asserted.

“Aye, sir.” Thomas Erik Mahan straightened his posture in his chair.

“Jump calculations adjusting for updated predicted positions. Should be done in about twenty minutes, sir.” the Navigator reported.

“Damn. That is an eternity in this situation. But with what is at stake, we also cannot afford a mistake in those calculations.” Foster grumbled.

“Jump as soon as your calculations are completed. We’ve finally got some nails worth hammering. All hands, make ready. I want us hammering with everything as soon as we clear from jump. And I mean everything we have. Load special munitions, all tubes.” Captain Mahan let the faintest smile grow on his face.

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Providing Cover

Saya worked her controls. The enemy outnumbered them by a fair margin, but she had grown, learned, and also taught her pilots much in her role as CAG.

‘War is the ultimate team sport, but there is no prize for losing.’ One of Why Yeh’s maxims popped into her head.

“Five, Six you do what you can to keep their fighters busy. It is almost time for the Captain’s mad plan. Two, Three, Four, with me. We start our attack runs on their engine assemblies in thirty seconds. Three, Four, you go first, then help Five and Six. Two you stay with me. We will have to keep pounding on their engine assemblies until the Captain is on board or this all goes up in smoke.” Saya had decided to ask of herself rather than another as soon as she had been informed of the plan.

They had managed to identify the Lola III as the SLS Biringer. The most successful of the Sons of Plunder ships.

It reached out with Naval Lasers, and she could see the Barracuda as her fighters began their runs. Three took the missile but the lasers failed to find purchase at this range.

((“It’s not bad. I can keep going.”)) Three reported.

“Neg. Fall back to help Five and Six, Three,” Saya barked.

((“Yes, Ma’am.”)) Three peeled away.

Her sensor screen lit up with the jump plumes of the Command Group.

Help was finally here at last.

“We still need to do our job. They will take care of the big bruisers for us,” Saya said, focusing on her pilots.

Four made its single attack pass before circling back around to help Three, Five, and Six, but got caught by the Naval Lasers and burned to a crisp.

Saya held down her triggers, focusing on the number two engine.

The missile port on the aft end of the Lola spit out another missile and Saya saw it come straight for her fighter.

“Freebirth…” was all she managed before it impacted.

The damage wasn’t that bad, but it had knocked out her starboard thrusters and a pair of enemy fighters had gotten past the rest of hers.

“Get out of here, Two… before we both die.” Saya ordered as she put her guns on the number three engine housing.

She felt more impacts, then briefly blacked out. She came to a second later, floating in space.

Her auto-eject clearly triggered. She checked her beacon. Even if she was picked up by the enemy or killed in space by them, it was better than floating to her death. A fate she had far too close of a brush with once already. She knew once the autoinjectors in her suit ran out she’d hurt like hell.

---

Farragut Class Battleship, SLS Larry Nichols firing her Naval Gauss Rifles in combat

Bring on the Heat of Naval Gun Fire

“Sir, please do us the honor of giving the order yourself.” Captain Mahan graciously offered.

“I see a nail that needs hammering. Weapons, I want it hammered,” Dave Foster ordered.

The SLS Larry Nichols trembled slightly as it began exchanging fire with the Sons of Plunder Texas. The improvements made to the Larry Nichols gave her a clear advantage over the Texas.

It was not so overwhelming that the Larry Nichols was not taking return fire, but Dave Foster clearly got to hammer a most satisfying nail indeed.

Riga Class Frigate

Meanwhile, the Riga was finding out similarly just what kind of improvements, Helena had ordered done to SLS Olivia Hazard Perry and how that was now a mismatch against a Riga.

Especially with SLS Stacey Cameron Roberts adding her fire.

Ephemeral, Illusive, Evanescent, Cossack, and Piorun had now successfully solidified into a unified formation that was now able to stave off further swarm attacks by enemy Dropships. But neither were they free to go after Biringer as only Piorun had any possibility of catching Biringer thanks to having no humans on board to worry about prolonged high g burns but the threat from enemy fighters and Dropships still present meant her guns were needed covering the Bonnies of Taskforce Surcouf A.

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Force Entry

<This isn't what I meant when I warned you against suicide missions, Amanda.> Demond quietly told his host

"Codes?" Amanda muttered.

Her left gauntlet punched in a series of master-codes. The outer door of the maintenance lock opened. <It doesn't matter, Desmond, sometimes you have to take it for the team.>

<It matters to ME!> Desmond decried

<Then keep me alive or hope your next host is better.> Amanda told him

The other four squaddies piled in behind her and closed the outer lock.

Press on the far side, was one atmo normal, according to the analog gauge set in the door.
"Huh."

Manual valves let her re-pressurize the lock. "We're going to have company."

"Well, isn't that why we're here? To be absolutely dreadful guests?" Barnhart asked.

"It is. Remember, by the numbers, we're here to break stuff and steal one of their shuttles." Amanda warned.

//"I got it, Cap. This would work better with a full boarding team."\\

"What's gonna work better, is the five KT limpet mine we stuck on their hull," Amanda stated. "We're just pilfering the silver, and keeping them busy until we can un-ass."

Gravity shifted, reminding everyone that the ship was still under power and helm control.

At three gravities.

//"Ugh! I think he's maneuvering…"\\

"Let's…. Put… a stop…. to that," she huffed. "Otherwise we might end up needin' to walk back."

//"Engineering?"\\

She nodded. "Engineering."

---

Sheldon Vies banked hard port as one of the Pirate fighters ate a missile from Biringer.

"****** you ******!!!" he shouted, and nosed over.

Figures on the hull? Oh, this can't be good.

"Biringer Actual be advised, you have hitchhikers,"

"Do a low pass on the facing you saw them on, see how they got there."

He brought his Zero low over the hull, and did a pass.

No shuttle.

No shit.

The sensors DID tell him something was there…He did a reverse-course and focused his sensors on the irregularity. Limpet mine? Neutron count…" Pull steady, you don't just have boarders. There's a tick, I'm gonna scratch it."

The weapons on the old SLDF Zero worked just fine, and he blasted the target with a shot he couldn't have imagined making six months ago.

The moment of concentration and distraction is what killed him, as an enemy fighter-one of the unmanned fighters from the Pirates' carriers? Delivered a stream of fire that cut the light fighter in half, coincidentally that half included the cockpit.

But not before he'd destroyed a five kiloton nuclear limpet mine.

Not that he would live to know that, being as he was dead and all. So he didn't see it when SLS Biringer fired her engines on overthrust and turned for the Jump Point at three gravities linear acceleration.

Coincidentally, this broke the kill box formation… which was already collapsing with the loss of SLS Rostov at the guns of the invaders' reinforcement.

---

Repel Boarders!

"All units, all hunter units disengage! Disengage! Fall Back to Rally Bravo!!" Cecil Halford's good day had turned bad. The battlegroup couldn't match the firepower that had just arrived and turned Rostov into mildly radioactive razor blades and was currently tying down SLS Abilene.

"How long to the point?" he demanded of his Navigator.

"Thirty-five, maybe forty minutes, sir."

"He said we've got visitors, and they left a Mine on the hull. Enhanced security alert, I want armored marines protecting the Drive Room, Core, and CIC, with the special assault teams sweeping between. They've got one play left-knocking our ship out with sabotage, and if there's enough they were seen by a passing fighter, it's going to be a significant force."

"What if they go for the shuttle bay?"

"We let them leave," he said. "Because if they go for the shuttle bay, they're not sabotaging my ship!!"

Contact reports from inside began flowing in.

"They're going for engineering…"

Cecil found it in him, to start to pray… and also to don emergency pressure gear, just in case.

On the internal monitor for ship's security, he got a glimpse. Four Aeries and a Nighthawk Power Armor…

"Special order!" he barked, "The Nighthawk!! Take that one alive!!"

"Sir?"

"That’s the leader. They're the only one in a different suit," he judged. Got you. "Special weapons teams to deck eighteen. They're going for aux control. Use the anti-Battlesuit weapons, that deck's mostly cargo and consumables, not critical equipment."

"Ambush?"

"Ambush." He nodded. "Nav, we're not going to Rally A after all. Have a second set of calcs ready for home."

"Home, sir?"

"Churchstone. There's one pirate who runs around in a Mark Twenty suit. I think we have her on our ship now, and she's a priority to the Basileus."

"Yes sir… why secondary?"

"Because I can be wrong," he admitted. "We don't go for home until we know."

"Aye, sir."

---

The fleeing enemy was just barely ahead, with fighters nipping at them, "Come on… Come on…"

Foster gripped his armrests, the damaged Texas class was lagging, but the rest were just tantalizingly out of reach.

"Sir, we're getting a general hail from the enemy."

Surprising. "Put it through," he ordered.

<<"This is Star League Ship Biringer, to the commander of the pursuing units. I am Lord Commodore Cecil Halford. I have a message for you.">>

"Doesn't sound like a surrender," Dave mused.

"No sir," Mahan agreed.

<<"I have captured The Dreaded Pirate Amanda Roberts, she is in critical condition. I give you my word as an Officer, that she will be given proper medical care before facing charges of Piracy, Insurrection Against Lawful Authority, Espionage against the Star League Defense Forces, and Brigandage against the Star League, that she will be conscious and able to defend her actions before a duly constituted Star League Tribunal, and that she will be treated humanely as defined under SLDF Regulations for the handling of Military Prisoners.">> He paused, <<"In short, if she beats the Piracy charges she will be treated as if she were a uniformed prisoner of war. You have my word as a Gentleman.">>

Dave felt his heart drop. A family man, like Mahan, could have explained that feeling to him-the feeling a father gets, when their child's life is in danger and there's nothing they can do about it.

“If it’s any consolation sir, this old girl was never designed for that kind of horse race in the first place.” Mahan tried to be comforting.

Dave keyed his suit mic, "Do you have proof of life?"

<<"Sending video imagery.">> was the response.

It was her, she was strapped to a gurney, pieces of armor had been removed and medical personnel were pushing life-support tubes into her.

"The Basileus wishes to offer negotiation to end this conflict. If you're amenable to such, you can reply via HPG format 7712a13/B SLDF encryption 122, you know the coordinates. I can only guarantee she'll be brought to a hospital for treatment. We are not animals, Admiral Foster…I will argue in favor of including her in any prisoner of war exchanges."

---

Career Ending Call?

"Sir?"

"Break off,” David ordered. "Break off, we'll catch them at Churchstone. We're here to do a mission, and they are retreating…and we can't catch them before then."

“Aye sir.” Mahan nodded at the communications officer.

“Signaling stand down, sir.” came the reply.

"This is the end of my career." Foster stated quietly.

“Why?”

"We were winning, that is why," David said. "I just tossed the win out over an insubordinate girl who shouldn't have tried to pull what she tried to pull. Crowe is going to have me emptying garbage, sorting sewage… over this… If he does not have me shot for treason."

“The war is not one person and we still have the field. We will have our last measure of revenge when we reach Churchstone.” Mahan offered.

"No, we're going to get her back," Director-General Helena Cameron said from the open hatch. "And you're not going to fall on your sword for this, Foster. I would've made the same call, for the same reason. She is so grounded for this though!"

---

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