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SAFES Liaison's Log, Science Vessel Searcher , September 22nd, 2555:

If it absolutely positively cannot be done, send in the marines. It's incredible to contemplate, having one of the most storied branches of any military restored in our modern age. More than just the great things I've heard secondhand, I'm familiar with General Lee's bona fides and it's like a second coming of the 1800s Southern gentleman of the same name. Noted military engineer, plaudits from his early career commending his bravery and intelligence, selected out of the ranks to form a new unit... Admiral Williams has the most uncanny ability to get her hands on the bright shining stars of SAF. We've captured a good man to run a dangerous operation, perhaps the best man in all of SAF for it, and I foresee a sizable chance of success.

A very interesting component of the reintroduction of the marines is that Lee decided to have SAFES experiment with powered infantry armor. It's a gamble, risking the chance of the wearers losing all mobility at a crucial moment for the possibility of encasing a man in armor that can deflect ordinary anti-infantry firepower, and I hope that it's one that will pay off. I had Socrates get the specs and admittedly, the SAFES engineers are producing the lowest-risk approach possible: internalizing the power source, encasing exterior wiring and hydraulics in armored conduit, and focusing on weight efficiency so that a marine deprived of power can still be relatively mobile in the 'dead' suit. Naturally, the marine will be wearing ordinary combat armor so he can get back into the fight quickly if his power armor blows a fuse. In fact, because of the carrying capacity of the armor, it's entirely likely that a marine will use to to haul in supplies and then leave it in back to act as an improvised supply station; I have no doubt that some intrepid problem-solver has already done that in one war game or the other. Another thing that I find very interesting is the choice of General Lee to bring back the trench spike as a close-combat weapon. Granted, it's somewhat less mobile and easy-to-use than a knife but the combination of brass knuckles with a thrusting weapon makes a man trained in its use very dangerous at melee ranges.

I admit to having quite a bit less confidence in the Haephestus Hammer and her combat upgrades. I'll grant you that TUDC employs some of the best engineers in the Governance and their solution to the recycle problems of a Hercules anti-orbital battery is quite impressive. I'll also grant you that they sent along a very good man to keep an eye on the thing; Ethan Romanski has worked extensively with the SAF and is well-known in the military engineering and scientific communities for his intelligence and intimate familiarity with combat systems. Vulcan, however, worries me. He's the kind of person who'd leave the SAF face first with the rest following but he's tasked with operating a floating dockyard that is expected to perform precise and intelligent bombardment during a fairly intricate operation. I understand quite well that we can no more control what kind of person a BSY core is than we can dictate the personality of a biological intelligence but I believe that LHI is playing with fire to assign such am arrogant brat to a very important task.

Speaking of AIs, but in a more pleasant way, it was wonderful to meet ATLAS' avatar. She's like a transplant from my clique in high school, exactly the kind of flamboyant, cheerfully irreverent, smart, all-around good kid I hung around with and watched go on to great things. I've never truly appreciated the kind of person ATLAS is, always being amused by her strange mix of childishness and competance without seeing that there's a brilliant mind under the fun, party-girl personality. It's a shame they can't just deep-six Vulcan and have Athena manage the Hammer...

Dr. Melinda Campbell, SAFES

Sera supposed it was technically two days later when she once again found herself at the brig. The chronometer said that it was five passed midnight on the twenty-second of September but with the intense work involved in planning for the fact that they now had a military asset that could capture ships made it feel like four days instead of just barely two. The most surprising thing about the last two days, however, had been the conversation in which they collectively broke the news of Shadow's decision about Matthias Devoncroix to Senator Ivanovich. Shadow had said she would do it alone and take the full brunt of the venable draccian's disappointment but Sera had kissed her and insisted on being there, for moral support if nothing else. Given that they were expecting anger or at least disappointment, Mikhail Ivanovich's reaction was surprisingly muted. He'd listened quietly while Shadow told him, not even trying to interrupt, then looked at them through the screen with an intensity that was vaguely unsettling.

"Mercy then." He'd finally stated. "It is not what I would have done, Myna, but you have never been part of the faceless masses."

Shadow and Sera had exchanged a look. "You... don't seem angry, Mike." Shadow had observed tentatively.

At that point, Ivanovich's face had broken into a broad and very warm smile. "I do not agree, Admiral, but it is the sort of decision your grandfather would have made. You truly are his shadow, my dear, even when you are not trying to be."

"Does that mean you'll...?"

"How could you even ask that?" He'd asked. "Of course I'll back you. I backed Aaron for his entire life when he did things that displeased others but took the higher road; I could not refuse do to the same for my goddaughter."

"And Natalia?"

Ivanovich had paused a moment, his warm happy expression fading into sadness. "I already told her about Colonel Jenkins." He replied quietly. "But it appears that fate has a certain sense of humor because I believe that the most comforting words I can offer her would be what Matthias Devoncroix told you: he died soaked in the blood of those Andronov animals. Thank you for contacting me, Myna... I hope we can speak again soon."

Thinking back, Sera smiled a little at the memory of her friend sitting there looking stunned after the end of the communication with the senator; the blank expression and the rather cute way that she tilted her head were quite endearing.

"Care to share your little ray of sunshine, General?" Matthias Devoncroix inquired wryly from inside the cell. "I could certainly use something to brighten my day."

"I think you have as much sunshine as you deserve, Devoncroix." Sera retorted. "Besides... you'll be getting more sun than you know what to do with where you're going."

Matthias smiled at this, an expression that looked somehow unnatural and disturbing now that he had surrendered the human disguise. It tuned out that the semi-lupine form of a werewolf was more akin to the emaciated appearance of Dr. Campbell than the healthier shape of a typical wolven-or maybe it was just what Matthias looked like. Sera's first impulse had been to sneer but she was so thoroughly disamed by the surface resemblance to the capable scientist that the moment passed.

"I underestimated Admiral Williams then." He commented, his even voice with its innately cultured accent unaffected by his change in form. "Her voice has more impact in high places than I'd have suspected."

"You're lucky that SpecOps managed to deeply offend her somehow." Sera infomed him. "I'd have had Boom hold you down so Akeya could skin you alive and concious."

"I was a child then, General, and had no part in Andronov's evil." He reminded her patiently. "Though speaking of Sergeant Morris, I'd enjoy seeing him confront the Black Brotherhood with just his bare hands... the mental image of him embedding hapless fools in the nearest bulkhead is truly sublime."

"Almost as sublime as seeing that old sea captain bounce you off the nearest wall."

Matthias actually grinned. "I really did overdo my asshole act, didn't I?"

"Considering you're acting so cultured and well-bred right now, I can't help but wonder why you did it." Sera admitted. "Why not be the real you, assuming that the real you is who I'm talking to, so the SpecOps didn't decide to break your face along with whatever other parts she could reach?"

"Pure enjoyment, General." He leaned back in the chair he'd pulled over so they could sit and talk face-to-face. "I expected to be dragged to the brig and marked for execution any moment and so, I ran my mouth. You can't possibly do worse to me than execute me so what did I have to lose?"

"Well, without attracting the suspicion of Major Obysdien or us, she wouldn't have kept an eye on you and we wouldn't have brought you up to Senator Mikhail Ivanovich." Sera replied. "See, until we talked to him, we didn't know that the real Colonel William C. Jenkins was a lovable gentlemanly soul totally unlike our William C. Jenkins."

"Thus precipitating my arrest." He sighed. "You were right, General... I'm a pretty sad excuse for a spy. It's fortunate that I was never in a situation where I would have needed to do battle; as you may guess from his impressive showing against Andronov, Colonel Jenkins had combat skills comparable to those of a SpecOps. I, on the other hand, have combat skills comparable to those of a petulant human child."

"I'm not exactly clear how that is. I would think that by virtue of speed, fang, and main strength you'd be more formidable." Sera looked him up and down. "Of course, you do seem unusually emaciated."

"Thermodynamics is a cruel mistress." He grimaced. "Remember the law about how energy can neither be created nor destroyed? Recovering from near-fatal injuries requires energy and if none is inputted into the system, the energy has to come from what is already there. Fat is burned first and then excess muscle and then you die."

Sera winced involuntarily. "So to heal... your body... eats itself?"

"Just so." He shrugged. "Everything has a price tag, General. Long life, rapid regeneration, maintaining power... it all costs something. It would be nice to be well-fed so I would not be so frail but it is not the lot of a prisoner to enjoy the luxuries of ample food and comfort. But on to your first question... why am I so inept? And, I suppose, the implied question of how a human could have the physical capacity to inflict grievous losses on attackers who were faster, stronger, naturally-armed, and working together."

"It had entered my mind." Sera admitted.

"The answer is delightfully simple, General... a human does not have such physical capacity." He smiled. "In fact, humans have barely any physical capacity at all, relatively speaking. Yet a human can obliterate an entire city with a single blow, something only the most severe of natural forces can achieve."

"Tools." She nodded. "Tools make the difference."

"Just so." He acknowledged. "I am inept because werewolves have a cultural adversity to the use of tools like firearms. Jenkins was so deadly to Andronov partly because they were stupid enough to give him enough time to reach his weapon. Humans have had the gun since it was a heavy iron tube you lit with a fuse but those imbeciles still do not seem to understand that a monkey with a good tool is worth several dozen brutes without any."

"A monkey, Devoncroix?" Sera glared at him.

"Oh, don't be so sensitive, General." He snorted. "Humans are the peak of primate evolution. Calling them monkeys is crude but they didn't give up their genes when they invented complex calculus. Would you be affronted if I called you a wolf or Major Obsydien a dragon?"

"Point." Sera acknowledged. Then something else in what he'd just said caught her attention. "You mean you credit humans for complex calculus?"

"I think I'm long passed the point where it profits me anything to lie, General, and to deny humanity credit for advanced mathematics would be a lie." He gave her an appraising look. "Tell me, General... how many great discoveries, inventions, and intellectual achievements do you believe werewolves may have been responsible for?"

"One." Sera replied. "The first form of a spear."

Matthias blinked at her. "Either that was an amazingly lucky guess or you've been given access to David Devoncroix' treatise on our history."

"Not really. Shadow just likes to talk a lot." Sera chuckled. "Apparently, she read some of it and found it extremely amusing. Or, at least, that's what she said."

"Well, you were told correctly. Or, more properly, you were told the story as it was told to David." The werewolf sighed. "Frankly, I doubt we developed it. From what I understand of my kind, we only learned to use tools when it became impossible to pull the strings of humanity without them. Ours is a very different sort of contribution to human history."

"I'm hoping you'll say something other than 'mass murder' because that would be too obvious." Sera deadpanned.

He gave her a sad smile. "Sometimes, General, the truth is painfully obvious. The contribution is in the minority but it is, indeed, a contribution."

"So what else would you say your kind has contributed?" Sera couldn't help but let a tone of scorn creep into her voice. "Other than murdering with abandon, what does a species that has existed for longer than humans have to brag about?"

He looked down and silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional snap-crackle of the electrified bars. Sera was just about to stand and leave, certain that he had nothing else to say, when he looked up.

"General, do you recall my outburst in the conference room shortly after Major Obsydien's team returned from Viisymel?" He asked.

"I do." She suddenly felt a twinge of pity. "It was biographical, wasn't it? That talk about decaying away and nothing being able to arrest the plunge."

"It is the story of my species since the commencement of the Third World War." Matthias confirmed. "Before my sister, there was a real possibility that both families would fall into natural extinction from pure stagnation. Now... there is some hope but not much."

"What is it about your sister that changes things?" Inside, Sera smiled to herself; they'd finally reached the part of the conversation that she'd been seeking when she'd come down. Shadow had suggested that even with Senator Ivanovich's support, wheedling more intelligence from Matthias Devoncroix couldn't help but make decision to spare his life easier to implement. She suspected that Shadow was also trying to soften her hostility towards the lupus garou by having her talk to Matthias on a casual basis and admittedly, Matthias was not entirely unpleasant even if he did retain a touch of condescension in his attitudes.

"Well, for one, she has formally split the Devoncroix family from Andronov." Matthias replied, smiling as he had when he'd mentioned his sister previously. "It used to be a somewhat awkward situation, Andronov as the formal leaders of our kind, Devoncroix operating at odds with the tradition that required our loyalty to madmen. Now there are the Devoncroix and the Andronov, two different factions independent of one another." He frowned. "You would have thought it'd bother them more but they pretty much shrugged it off and went on with their murderous plans."

"Considering how unsophisticated they are, I doubt they thought losing Devoncroix would affect their ability to murder 'cattle'." Sera suggested.

"Being murderous animals doesn't make them unsophisticated, General." Matthias corrected her mildly. "It just makes them brutes."

"I disagree but I'd like to hear why you believe this." Sera made a point of rotating her ears to face him, making her interest apparent.

"I... uh..." The challenge caught him obviously flat-footed. "Well, I hate to use this example, but the Holocaust would qualify as a relatively sophisticated way to mass murder."

"Well, that would depend on whether Adolf Eichmann and his fellow banal boring bureaucrats were Andronov in disguise." Sera pointed out. "Coming up with a general idea then telling someone else to see to the details isn't a display of great sophistication. Which, by the way, is why I don't see their little stunt with the hitmen as being all that sophisticated... they told the hitmen who to kill and let them deploy the mind-numbing degree of sophistication required to do the deed."

Matthias gave her a wry look. "You don't play fair, do you General?"

"It's perfectly fair to stick to the facts." Sera grinned at him. "Just because you didn't consider that most of the Andronov feats I'd be aware of were principally instances of them acting through others doesn't mean I was unfair."

Matthias inclined his head. "Touché, General." He acknowledged. "But splitting Devoncroix from Andronov was only one way in which she has ensured that Devoncroix may yet survive the coming doom. There is a reformation in how pups are raised, a deliberate attempt to break them of our unfortunate tendency to regard humanity as cattle. I regard it as Marie's most far-sighted act; there is no possibility of our survival unless we come to know humanity as equals at worst, superiors at best."

"We don't even regard humanity as our superior and it would not be unfair to call our attitude towards humans as affectionate bordering on adoration." Sera pointed out, her mind whirling at this bit of information. Even knowing of the Edict and hearing Matthias' confident prediction that his kind was doomed, she hadn't really appreciated how frightened Devoncroix was of impending extinction. To attempt to utterly alter the bedrock of their species' view of themselves was a drastic measure indeed and an indicator of the desperation this Marie must be... and then Sera recalled that Dr. Campbell had referred to her as "Meredith" instead of the name Matthias called her by.

"Why do you refer to your sister as Marie, by the way?" She inquired.

Matthias blinked. "It is her name." He replied with clear confusion. "What else would I call her?"

"Meredith?"

Matthias' eyes widened. "That is her given name but not even our parents used it. How could you have known it?"

"I didn't until I casually mentioned to Doctor Campbell that Shadow had decided to spare you. She was dumbfounded but then when we told her who you were, she knew you and your sister by name." Sera shook her head. "It was very strange."

"Not if she was military intelligence... or..." He fixed her with a searching look. "General... Doctor Campbell is not merely an unusually brilliant physicist, is she?"

"I don't know why you'd..."

"Please don't beg the question, Serafine." He interrupted quietly. "Even as young as I am, I know the difference between an empty threat and a deadly serious one. The good doctor truly would have ripped my face off if given the chance and moreover, she knew that she could. I am pathetic and wimpy but I am still many times stronger and faster than a typical human. Yet I have the distinct impression that she is capable of killing me with her bare hands, a capability I've only heard of in SpecOps."

"Devoncroix, there are lots of people allowed to call me by name." Sera growled. "You aren't one of those. As to who and what Dr. Campbell actually is, I have no right to tell you and you certainly have no right to even think about asking."

"Refusing to answer is an answer in and of itself, General." He pointed out.

"I'll just put it like this, Devoncroix: she served honorably and well and now she wants to be a mere scientist." Sera told him firmly. "She's earned the right to decide that and I have no right to contradict her, especially to a lupus garou who is escaping a firing squad only because Admiral Williams is overly compassionate."

"She will never be a mere scientist, General." He pointed out, smiling. "She has an intellectual presence that reminds me of what my ancestors wrote of Socrates, Newton, Einstein, and the other innumerable scientific minds that arise among humanity from time to time. They are the contradiction to the werewolf understanding of humanity, our unsolvable paradox made flesh. Not even David could bring himself to commit that confession to writing."

"What, do werewolves never birth geniuses or something?" Sera eyed him skeptically.

"Are you familiar with the statistical device of standard deviation, commonly known as the bell curve?"

"Of course. Standard junior high mathematics."

"If you were to chart human intellect on the curve, you would have data points spread all over it, ranging from the mental capacity of a rock to that rare and majestic cluster at the far reaches." He explained, a note of sadness in his voice and smile. "Werewolf intelligence is tightly bunched on the high side of the median. Few data points drop below; none rise above. We do not understand it and have desperately tried not to acknowledge it but only humanity, and the people humanity created, produce..." He took in a deep breath and exhaled the word in an almost-whisper. "...genius."

"And yet you think yourselves so much greater than the cattle." Sera smirked at him.

"As I said, it is our unsolvable paradox." His smile brightened. "But happily, once an intellectual product appears in the world, it benefits everyone without regard for station or species. My kind may never create a Mona Lisa but we can enjoy it just as much as anyone else. In fact, just a month before this expedition began, I was able to attend a showing of Shakespeare's play 'Othello.'" Matthias' eyes lit up with genuine excitement. "It was magnificent, General! The draccian who played the part of the title character infused the Moor with the passion and desperate yearnings of a man who clings to a favorable position through nothing more than the love of his beloved. Iago was similarly brilliant, a cunning malignant presence pushing every target towards their ruin. Shakespeare, General, may not have theorized black holes but the man had a singular brilliance that makes him a prime example of the majesty of human intellect."

"Shakespeare is incredible, true." Sera couldn't help but smile at the unfeigned excitement from the werewolf. It gave him such a convincing air of normalcy and humanity that it was hard to remember what he really was. "I prefer Andrew Lloyd Webber, though. A particular work of his has spoken to me in the last few years more than it had before."

"I've had that happen as well." He smiled and looked intensely interested in what Sera was saying.

"The work is 'The Phantom of the Opera' and of the many characters in it, the one that I find most interesting is the Phantom." Sera continued. "Do you know why the character is so compelling to me, Matthias?"

"I... have many guesses, General, but wouldn't know which of them is the most likely." Matthias admitted.

"He's compelling to me, Devoncroix, because all evidence is that he is a man with an incredible gift for teaching music." Sera told him. "He evidently is able to compose quite competently as well as play the pipe organ with a singular skill. Every indication is that he has a particular genius for engineering and the subtle art of the stage magician. By his own account, he feels himself barred from making good use of these gifts by a severe birth defect that has left him with a severely deformed face. But the central irony of the character, Devoncroix, is that although he acutely feels the distortion of his face, the ultimate bar to his entrance into the world is that at his core, he is a remorseless unfeeling murderer. As Christine Daae says to him in the end, it was in his soul that the true distortion laid."

Matthias stared at her for a moment and shook his head. "Even when discussing art, you refuse to let it alone." He sighed. "I realize that you hate werewolves, General. You hardly need to..."

"You missed my point." Sera interrupted him. "The analogy wasn't between werewolves and a murderer but between werewolves and the Phantom."

She watched him blink and turn away to contemplate this when the wall intercom squawked. "General Wilson?"

"Yes, Security?"

"Admiral Williams requests your presence on the Executor. She says that a portion of Ares Fleet is preparing to make transit..."

"Thank you, Security." Sera cut her off. "I'll be right up to get the details from you. General Wilson out."

"General, don't you think it just a little bit childish to limit my access to particularly obvious information?" Matthias inquired. "In the first place, I can do nothing with it. In the second, it has no value. In the third, I attended the same briefings you did and saw the same gentlemen standing guard at the conference room on Arid. I know of the Marines and I know of the general shape of the reinforcements coming. Cutting the young lady off in a puerile attempt to shut me out from information I already have is pointless."

"Devoncroix... even if my blanket hate for werewolves goes away someday, I'm not planning to stop being petty to you until I've gotten my three months of danegeld." Sera informed him drily. "Whether puerile or not, whether you're punished in some other way at some later date, you at least deserve payback for being an ass."

He smiled at this. "Fair enough, General. Off you go then."

Sera eyed him for a long moment, not sure what to make of his easy acceptance of her trying to get even with him, until she contented herself with a quick nod and left the brig area.

"A portion" of Ares Fleet turned out to be a few more Stryker-class frigates and the fleet's other Redux-II battleship, still so new that it hadn't been give the "Spartan helment" insignia of the fleet it was part of. However, the battleship and frigate escorts barely drew a moment's glance from Sera as her eyes remained glued to the viewscreen. Looming behind the ships was a behemoth of staggering proportions, a titanic vessel at least three miles in length with the insignia of Leviathan Heavy Industries, a whale-like creature swallowing a hammer, displayed proudly on its front. It was almost impossible to contemplate that the collossal ship and its sister were owned by a corporation yet the design and construction of the two ships, each taking a full two years because their massive size required new drydock facilities to be built beforehand, had been paid for and managed on every level by LHI. Their purpose, as she heard it, was to gain an exclusive market in the area of mobile repair facilities; as a consequence, they pretty much got whatever price in goods or considerations they demanded whenever SAFN needed to see to fleet maintenance during survey missions beyond the edge of the Solar system. And yet, able to legitimately demand any price they wished, LHI had pretty much donated the very latest retrofit of the Colossus-class to the war effort.

"It must be nice to be that rich." She hadn't meant to say it out loud but judging by the murmers of agreement around her, she was hardly the only one thinking it.

"It's a real beauty." Nomi agreed from where she was lounging comfortably in her chair. "Gaze upon something unlike any navy has ever had in history: a drydock facility that follow them around."

"I hear she can fight prettty hard too." Weapons piped up. "At the very least, she could probably take on a battleship with just her CIWS. Must have been as expensive as all hell to make."

"Like I said... nice to be rich like that." Sera smiled. "Hey Nomi... those Strykers carrying our newest military branch?"

"Actually, they're quartering the Marines on the Haephestus Hammer." Nomi informed her. "I guess General Lee needed to bring along a whole bunch of special equipment that a Stryker's armory decks couldn't handle."

"So their boss is named Lee, huh?" Sera chuckled. "He a Virginian too?"

"Actually..."

She blinked and turned to look at the azure draccian. "Wait... that was just a joke. You mean... his name is Lee and he come from Virginia in the USA?"

Nomi grinned. "Cosmic coincidences are pretty cool, aren't they?"

"I'm not sure how I'd respond if I found out his name was Robert Edward Lee..."

"James Robert, actually." Nomi smiled. "Cosmic coincidence only goes so far. Still, there's not many gound-pounder names with the instant celebrity of a Lee. I can't help but wonder what the man's like."

"I think you're about to find out, cap'n." Communications said. "Got an incoming from the primary command post."

"Don't you mean bridge?" Nomi eyed him.

"Not according to the carrier signal." He replied. "The three bridges on that monster have different Morse leaders than this. I'm guessing it's related to the ground forces on board."

"Makes sense, I guess." Nomi nodded and the technician put the message through. The visage that formed on the viewscreen was a strikingly handsome human, his straight hair and short beard trimmed with military neatness, the streaks of grey in his dark brown hair the only indication that he was older than appearances might suggest. His deep blue uniform bore the three stars of a lieutenant-general and almost without thinking about it, Sera straightened and snapped a salute to him. He looked briefly surprised but snapped a crisp salute in return.

"General Wilson, ah presume." He said, the clipped precision of a career officer combining pleasantly with very mild accent of a man from the upper American South. "General James R. Lee, Sol Armed Forces Marines, reporting for duty. And if ah might say, General, ah do not believe it entirely appropriate that the overall ground forces commander render first respects to a subordinate."

"I believe, General, that it is entirely understandable that a brevat brigidier-general renders first respects to a lieutenant-general." Shadow's warmly smiling face appeared right next to that of General Lee in the split screen. "Welcome to the expeditionary fleet, General. It is a pleasure and honor to count you among our senior commanders. I have heard nothing but praise from Senator Ivanovich and the rest of EFWAC about your efforts."

"That hardly seems surprising, seeing as how the good Senator was the official sponsor for my efforts." Lee smiled. "Worked behind the scenes, defending me, defending my concept, defending my program, and even building tests that showcased my marines accomplishing exactly what they are trained to accomplish. He desired that SAF should have marines and ah am merely an agent of his desire."

"Don't shortchange what you have done, General Lee." Shadow chided him, the smile toned down but still there. "For all that Mikhail Ivanovich supported you and your concept, you gave it life and success. The marines are naturally the most highly specialized branch of a military and that you have revived them in so short a time and made them able to discharge their responsibilities justifies the senator's praise."

"You are kind to stroke my ego, Admiral, but ego gets good men killed." Lee grasped his hands behind his back, naturally causing his posture to straighten. "Now, ah have some idea what you plan for my marines but it seems that we should discuss specifics. Ah prefer to speak face-to-face if at all possible."

"I tend to prefer that format myself." Sera agreed.

"I'll make it unanimous then." Shadow nodded. "General Lee, how easily can we access your command center from a docking bay?"

"Given the size of the bays in this ship, Admiral, you can fly your shuttle to wthin ten feet." Lee chuckled. "Proving that these docks are not meant to be ships of war."

"I thought they'd upgraded them so they can fight." Shadow's brow furrowed. "Open bays to the heart of the ship seems like a strange way of accomplishing that."

"Or, meaning no disrespect to the general, he isn't fully aware of all the Hammer's design specifications." Sera suggested, giving Lee an apologetic look. "Technically, our carrier's hangers go all the way to the ship's core but to get from the outside to the core requires flying through two armored doors."

"Ah may be incorrect but it is not germane. Even if they have to open the doors, you can still fly to within ten feet of my command center." Lee smiled. "Ah assume, therefore, that the Admiral wishes to meet on the Haephestus Hammer?"

"I do." Shadow confirmed. "I will also include Commodore Andropoli, Doctor Campbell, Major Obsydien, and Captains Rousseau, Wong, and Sakura. What we are discussing will require input from all of them or at least keeping them well-informed."

"A theoretical physicist?" Lee gave Shadow a curious look. "Ah mean no disrepect to either yourself or the highly-accomplished doctor but Ah do not see where a reservist might have germane advice or need to be concerned with specific tactics."

"Without going into detail, General, Melinda Campbell..."

"Her first name is Melinda?" Lee looked surprised.

Shadow blinked. "Last I checked. Why?"

"Oh, nothing really." Lee chuckled. "Every time Ah had an occasion to discuss her with her colleagues, they always referred to her as 'Mac.' Ah thought it was strange but Ah hardly expect that everyone has a conventional name."

Sera and Shadow shared a look of amusement before Shadow cleared her throat. "Anyway, without going into unneccessary detail, General, Melinda Campbell's file was scrubbed. Her advice will be germane."

"It is your conference to convene, Admiral. Ah was merely surprised at one of the participants." Lee inclined his head in a gesture of mingled concession and respect. "1700?"

"1730. I need to receive Doctor Campbell's report on her powwow with ATLAS and Socrates about the Majesty." Shadow replied. "Depending on what she says, we may have a baptism of fire for your forces, General."

"Then Ah have things to discuss with my staff." Lee responded. "Admiral, General." The transmission from the Haephestus Hammer blinked out and Shadow's transmission expanded to fill the screen.

"I like him." Sera commented. "A bit hung up on protocol but we've finally got a professional general on hand."

Shadow sighed. "Sera, could you please step into the conference room so we can talk?"

Sera blinked, taken aback by the undercurrent of irritation in her friend's voice. "Sure thing, Shadow." She replied, turning and walking to the briefing room just off the bridge. Shadow's image was already waiting when she got there and she had just barely taken a seat and let the door close behind her that Shadow started in.

"Why did you do that, Sera?" She inquired tiredly. "I know that saluting a technically superior officer was a well-drilled reaction but we cannot afford a situation where the appointed ground forces commander is treating an inferior officer as her superior. I would have thought that after months acting as the ultimate authority as related to the grunts, you'd have gotten passed the inferiority complex."

"You know I appreciate the position, Shadow." Sera met her friend's eyes unflinchingly. "But you know that general officers are made, not declared. We both know that I'm the ground forces commander because you trust me and can work seamlessly with me, not because I've gone through the rigor of command school and won USC approval by war game evaluation. We both know that I'm a general because SAFN regulations require that the ground forces commander be a general officer. I don't know Lee well but he is a lieutenant-general, which means that he successfully satisfied at least six different evaluation boards through multiple wargames that he can handle the responsibilities of the rank."

"Nevertheless, Sera, that cannot happen again." Shadow relaxed, sitting in one of the chairs on the Executor bridge. "The 12th Corp veterans I skimmed out of SAFA/G have no experience as a unit and if put into battle, must have no doubt that the officer directing them believes that she is able to do so. No doubt morale will be significantly increased by the arrival of relentlessly-trained specialists like Lee's marines, but Lee is here to obey your commands and fulfill your objectives and you are here to obey my commands and fulfill my objectives. That's how the chain of command works, dear, and this is the worst possible time for the chain to develop a weak link."

"Shadow, I was the weak link when you spot-promoted me." Sera gave her a wry smile. "When you kick a captain upstairs into the general officer category, she's not going to be all that experienced with the large scale."

"But that's the beauty of this situation." Shadow grinned. "You aren't going to work on the large scale. There's not enough marines or ship garrison forces to make anything larger than a light battalion. Now, what level of command is a captain rated for again? I just can't seem to remember."

"My best friend the stand-up comic." Sera chuckled. "Sorry, hun. It's just that after months of me being the nominal boss of the ground forces, I'm now sharing the top with someone much more qualified. He's got more campaign ribbons than Sergeant Morris and the Big Man's been combat engineering since before I was learning my ABC's."

"So you have a hypercompetant subordinate." Shadow shrugged. "You don't have to worry about him stumbling over his own feet obeying your commands. I don't see why this is a problem."

"No, you probably wouldn't."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Shadow, that you've never had a title tacked onto you that you didn't earn." Sera leaned towards the screen. "You wouldn't permit it because you're an honest little granddaddy's girl. So, you've never once been in a position where you were stuck with a job you were not qualified to do and then had someone who was qualified to do it show up and expect you to tell them what to do. You've also never been in a situation where you allowed your best friend to stick you in such a position and gotten stuck trying to do your best because you adore her so much and can't let her down by refusing to take the position, leaving her to deal with a ground forces command who she likely did not know and..."

"Sera." Shadow didn't speak loudly but the commanding sharpness silenced Sera as surely as if her friend had shouted. "Stop beating around the bush, love. If you're nervous, if you're lacking confidence, if you're worried about doing the job right... say it. Tell your best friend that you're slightly overwhelmed so I can give you a hug and a swift kick in the tail. Sheesh... you didn't break down this much when there were gattling-cannon tanks rolling towards your chicken-wire barricades and you were stuck waving sticks and spitballs. What's with the cracking up over... over... goddamned authority issues?"

"It's... not that simple." Sera sighed. "You want to hear that I'm nervous about this, Shadow? Yeah, I'm really nervous about this. Think for a moment about what General Lee represents, coming here with an entire division of soldiers who are trained with the singular objective of being unbeatable at seizing shores and ships. We're going to go to the conference, we're going to talk at one another, ruminate, banter a bit, and then we'll decide that hey, we've got these marines and what do you know? There's a big powerful ship right in front of our faces with one of the most important war assets in the entire Viss Empire on board and hey, aren't marines just so incredibly good at seizing ships?" Sera paused to just look at her friend for a long moment. "Love, I can read you; it's why we're so good in tandem. SAFN-C might have sent you marines because they're an excellent combat asset but you asked for them because you're starting to think that that monster ship would look great parked in a SAFES drydock being dissected. Sooner or later, I'm going to be stuck on an alien ship with a bunch of marines hoping that the viis soldiers we've come across so far are the best the inguana-faces can offer. It's like being in that lab but without Akeya's handpicked bully-boys ready to wipe the floor with a few garrison troops."

Shadow just shook her head, smiling. "Dear, do you remember the moment when you were in that dimly-lit interogation room with the Andronov you'd grabbed at the labs?"

Sera was instantly drawn back to the moment like she was living it again: the sterile smell of the room contrasting with the disturbing smell of blood wafting off the apparent human, sitting, bound to the chair, a grisly leer stretching his pale face with something like lust dancing in his inhuman eyes. The harsh spectrum of flourescent light pulsating over the scene as the silence stretched between them, the Andornov terrorist having just laid out what his evil kind wanted, what their goals were, glorying in her helplessness. "I remember." She finally replied. "Why?"

"Because you were faced with the prospect of the slaughter of your command, the slaughter of countless innocents, the knowledge that you might, might have access to sandbags and small arms to stop tanks armed with an experimental gattling cannon." Shadow pointed out gently. "And yet you got over the prospect of your imminent demise quickly enough to remove the top of the maniac's head with your sidearm when he leapt at you a moment later in his alternate form."

"What's your point, Shadow?" Sera asked unable to prevent herself from looking curious.

"My point is that you can get over onrushing doom faster than you can get over commanding a superior officer or invading an unknown ship alongside an entire division of soldiers who have been specifically trained to capture and hold enemy warships." Shadow smiled. "You're cute when you make no sense, dear."

Sera sighed but smiled. "I guess I'm being a bit irrational, love."

"Irrationality is cute too." Shadow winked. "Anyway, I really do need to conference with Melinda on the Majesty. If we have to have this sort of conversation again, I'd really rather it be in private and without uniforms, wouldn't you?"

Sera laughed. "I guess our moment up on the observation deck sort of broke the dam."

"I'm glad it did. I've really missed the good days." Shadow blew her a kiss (bringing Sera to the sudden realization that the bridge must be empty on the other end) and the screen blinked off.

"So'd I." Sera admitted to the blank screen.

The Haephestus Hammer had to be the most gargantuan construct Sera had ever seen. Approaching just one of its hangers was like being in an airplane descending from cruising altitude towards the ground: what was once a distant giant seemed to engulf their shuttle as they approached, the floating dockyard being so large that it seemed to be without beginning or end. Entering the primary hanger, watching the heavily-armored doors slip silently out of the way to reveal an opening large enough to swallow a Dragoness-class carrier, was impossible for Sera to describe, even in her own mind. The hangers seemed surprisingly tiny from the inside, mobile bulkheads filling the vastness with innumerable snub repair pads littering the dulled surface. After the first set of doors as another and then another after that; it wasn't until the eighth set of doors that a honeycomb of shuttle docks greeted them and their pilot deftly set them down in the one that had been lit up to indicate that it was their destination. As the airlock doors closed and atmosphere was pumped in, Sera got up from her seat and stretched a bit, tugging at her uniform for a moment to pull out one of the wrinkles that had developed before making her way to the ramp leading out.

"Hey general." Sera paused to look up towards the pilot, who was leaning out of her seat to look back. "Mind putting in a good word for your shuttle? I think there's a rattle in the manifold."

"If I see anyone other than military types, I'll mention it." Sera told her with a chuckle. "Remember, we're only renters."

"Ain't that the truth." The pilot shook her head amusedly as Sera walked down the ramp and over to the door leading off the landing pad. Given how used she was to the ergonomics of the Marauder and the strangely luxurious trappings of the Searcher, the stark utilitarianism of the hall startled Sera for a moment and made her think briefly of the umbilical hallways at Gaia Shipyard. The walk to the conference room was short; just as General Lee had said, you could fly a shuttle to within ten feet of it. Just like on the Arid, there were two marines standing on either side of the door in dress uniform who gave her a polite salute as she came within view but standing in front of the door was a noncom in what Sera assumed must be the "working" uniform.

Sera had always been vaguely aware of the fact that the marines did not use the same set of equipment as the typical soldier but she had not realized the extent to which that was true. The normal modular vest had been replaced with something that briefly reminded her of dragon's scales, an apparently flexible suit composed of thousands of hexagonal tiles with rigid armor laid over immobile parts of the body, such as arms and legs, and visibly heavy armoring of the joints. The studiously-polished boots gleamed metallic and as the officer moved to come to respectful attention, they clanged dully on the deck plates, sounding as ponderous as they appeared. Strapped to the marine's thigh holster was the expected combat knife on one side but on the other was a curious weapon Sera had never seen before, something that looked like brass knuckles (with the finger holes adapted to fit around the armored gloves that were part of the suit) forming the grip of a 6-inch double-serrated blade with its tip extending into a needle-like point. The marine, with the same brown-olive skin tone that had attracted Sera's notice in Captain Santos of the Cassandra, gave her the same smart salute as his compatriots, his movement not visibly slowed by the combat suit.

"General, ma'am. General Lee begs your indulgence but his staff conference took significantly longer than he anticipated." The officer (Sera couldn't see any rank markings) explained. "He wishes that I should convey his apology for causing you to wait while the conference is completed."

"I'll say." Sera quirked an eyebrow. "He excused himself to meet with his staff over two hours ago."

"His staff got added to under protest." The man shrugged. "A mister Ethan Sebastian Timothy Hawke Eduardo Romanski and his bean counter showed up."

"Uhh..."

"He's the LHI representative that came with the Hammer." Sera got a good look at a set of perfect white teeth. "His suit costs more than the ten years of R&D it took to make mine."

"I was going to ask about that, Mister...?

"Facundo." He extended an armored hand. "Gunnery Sergeant Facundo Zanardi at your service, General."

Sera tentatively took the hand and was pleasantly surprised that the sergeant had enough fine motor control in the armor that his handshake was firm but not painful. "If you'll excuse me for saying, Sergeant Zanardi, where are you from?"

"Florida." He replied, looking a bit curiously at her.

"Oh. Um.. of course." Sera felt slightly embaressed. "I meant, where is your family from? Zanardi is a somewhat... unique surname."

"You Governance types call them the 'savage lands'." He told her bluntly but without any particular anger or bitterness. "Which doesn't really bother me, mind you, but it's a bit hard to describe where Mom and Dad came from when you stick millions of square miles in a single category."

"Y..yes. I imagine so." That Zanardi didn't seem offended just made it more embaressing. It was awkward enough to hear someone who was obviously a loyal SAF soldier have to describe his family's old country as 'savage lands' but she felt embaressed that she actually expected a man with a strong American accent to identity another country as his home, based solely on his skin color. The 'gunny' seemed to sense her discomfort because he smiled suddenly and patted her on the shoulder in a sympathetic manner.

"Don't feel bad, General." He told her. "It's not your fault that most folks from down south don't often come north. Old Man Lee had to beat me pretty hard for pretty long before I got my head out of my ass about it."

The tongue-in-cheek reference to General Lee made Sera feel better enough that she actually chuckled weakly. "Well, what are the bosses for except to beat us stupid maggots until we get half a clue, huh?"

"You're into whips and chains now, General?" Shadow's teasing voice made her bury her face in her hand to conceal her chagrin. "Oh, I shall have to tell your girlfriend about this."

"Admiral, ma'am!" Zanardi and the other two marines straighened up and saluted immediately.

"At ease, Sergeant." Shadow came close enough to wrap an arm around Sera and give her a quick friendly hug. "I presume General Lee is still in conference?"

"He wishes that I extend his most sincere..."

"No need, Sergeant." Shadow replied before he could complete the spiel. "I understand that Esther barged in and that the general was obligated to respect the intrusion."

Sera removed her hand from her face and glanced askance at her friend. "Esther?"

"Yeah." Shadow grinned widely. "What, you didn't notice what his initials spell?"

"Well, scuttlebutt is that TUDC executives can crush you by giving you the evil eye." Sera replied, working hard to keep a straight face. "I thought it might be a little dangerous to disrespectful."

"Where did you hear such an absurd thing? Everyone knows that their evil eye sets you on fire. It doesn't crush you." Shadow teased. "Don't fret, General... if Esther is as big of dog as I suspect, we don't have to worry about him getting his boxers in a knot over a nickname."

"I would hope not, Admiral." Sera turned to see Melinda Campbell, accompanied by the rest of the officers taking part in the conference, smiling. "Hello General Wilson..." Her eyes took on a twinkle as she looked passed Sera to the marine sergeant standing in front of the door. "...Sergeant Zanardi."

Facundo grinned widely. "Well, look at you... Queen Goddess of the Nerd-People, all grown up and sportin' a PHD. How the hell have you been, Mac?"

"Oh, you know, sierra-oscar, sierra-oscar." Melinda stepped around Sera to take the noticibly taller human's hand and shake it firmly. "What cabana did Lee fish you out of?"

"The one where a suspiciously thin-looking wolven made me a hurricane with too much schnapps." He pumped her hand with enthusiasm. "I woke up years later dressed in a uniform with some old guy yelling at me. Remind me to 'forget' not to double the sake in your favorite mix next time we're drinking."

Campbell grinned and freed her hand. "No touchy the mad scientist's Imperial Reserve. I paid a pretty penny for that stuff."

Facundo was clearly on the cusp of a smart-aleck reply when the door behind him swished open, General Lee standing on the other side. Like well-programmed robots, the gunny and his fellows turned immediately and gave the general crisp salutes. Lee nodded to them and gave both Sera and Shadow a salute of his own before stepping to a side. "My apologies for the delay, Admiral, General, Doctor, Captains." He said in that pleasant Southern accent. "Let's not waste any further time; if you will come in and take your seats, we can begin."

Lee looked just as fit and distinguished in person as he did on the viewscreen, not even the slight hint of bulk around the waist typically of strategic commands visible under his uniform, which looked freshly-pressed even though he had probably been in it for many hours. He had the pleasant mien of a field commander that was accustomed to earning rather than demanding respect, and the traditional officer's sidearm at his waist was clearly a standard model that had been engraved as a gift and plated with showy, albeit practical, high-chromium stainless steel. It didn't surprise Sera at all that, given his apparent attention to his appearance, his boots were polished to an almost mirror-like shine.

She actually bumped into the other occupant of the room before she realized he was there, brushing up against him as she stepped around the chair Shadow pulled away from the table. Ethan Romanski didn't even respond to her touching him at first, looking out the nearest viewing panel at the recently-landed shuttle with his hands clasped behind his back. Then, in a motion more in keeping with a soldier doing an about-face, he slipped one foot behind the other and turned in a very smooth but quick movement to face her, keeping his stance relaxed and his hands clasped the entire time. He was dressed in a fastidiously-fitted black suit, expensive shoes gleaming with almost obsessive care, his clothing unwrinkled, clean, as perfect as if it was being worn by a mannequin instead of a man. Under the suit jacked and over a formal shirt so clean it almost glowed white, he wore a pinstriped waistcoat with a silvery chain disappearing into one of the pockets, indicating that he was wearing a fine pocketwatch instead of the wrist chronometer popular among even those who dressed expensively. A genuine black snake leather belt encircled his trim waist and his silk tie was simple and handsome, black with the "crooked cross" in a diamond symbol of Swastika Electronics imposed in the center in charcoal-grey. His hair was black and his tanned clean-shaven face unlined by age but despite the extraordinary handsomeness of that sharp thin face, Sera had the disturbing feeling of being sized up like a predator contemplating a rival, shockingly green eyes looking at her steadily, with passing interest and intense focus, before the corners of his mouth moved slightly upward in an almost invisible smile.

"General Serafine Anne Wilson." Romanski's voice was soft but very deliberate. "I imagine that I was difficult to see, standing against the viewing panes as I was, but I nonetheless beg your pardon."

"I apologize, Mr. Romanski." Sera replied, feeling oddly like a pup being scolded.

"You may call me Esther, if you so desire." He replied calmly. "It is the preference of many colleagues, given that my full name is ponderous and difficult to accurately remember. You are excused, General. Welcome to the Leviathan Heavy Industries Colossus-class mobile dockyard mark six, Haephestus Hammer."

"Good day, Esther." Shadow said before Sera could reply. "I am not necessarily upset by your presence but I feel that a civilian is out of place in a military conference to discuss strategies and tactics."

"And yet you have a renowned civilian physicist at you conference." 'Esther' smiled slightly. "I assume this is because the civilian physicist can provide you with either information or insight that may inform your deliberations. Do I assume correctly?"

"Yes." Shadow replied cautiously.

"Then if another civilian, say the chief operations officer of Swastika Electonics, currently on loan to Leviathan Heavy Industries, could provide you with information or insight that may inform your deliberations, it would be similarly justified if he was to remain, correct?"

"I don't need to be condescended to, Romanski." Shadow's brow furrowed at him. "It would have sufficed if you'd just told me that you had information that would be helpful."

"Well, yes, but it is not often that a corporate suit can poke some fun at a naval officer of no small importance." His handsomely-tanned face broke into a dazzling smile. "I worked with your grandfather briefly on the technical aspects of certain of his campaigns, Admial. I am pleased to find myself working with his granddaughter as well, albeit from a much more elevated position than that of a fresh-faced R&D chairman."

"Aw, shucks, now you're being all charming." Shadow looked amused. "Take a seat, Mister COO."

"I would hate to rumple the..."

"Sit down, Ethan. I'll let you stand up again in a minute."

The use of his given first name visibly took the corporate officer aback but he nodded and seated himself obediantly. Shadow looked up and down the table before rising to her feet to start the conference.

"Here is the situation as of the last sensor sweep by the Cassandra." She said. "The Imperial Fleet standing between us and Viisymel has not diminished but it hasn't gotten any bigger either. Given that we're within fair bombardment range of their primary means of reinforcing their fleet, we anticipate that any reinforcements will be slow to come. We, on the other hand, have a means of moving reinforcements that they have proven unable to cut off although we have no way to retreat if circumstances change and the fight turns against us. They have an advantage in numbers; we have an anvantage in firepower. We both enjoy unrestricted supply lines although they can supply themselves in a couple of hours while we cannot obtain supplies faster than twenty, given the logistics of moving things from Earth or Mars to the 'ripple gate'. Our ability to obtain electronic intelligence on them is completely nullified by their sophisticated jamming although their jamming field is a form of mutually-assured blinding, something that ATLAS and Dr. Campbell confirmed to me just an hour ago."

"Stalemate." Andropoli observed.

"Not really." Shadow grimaced. "Majesty, the supership in the middle of their fleet, turns the tables somewhat. We now have our own supership but she is a drydock with defensive armaments, not a military vessel with offensive capabilities."

"Excuse me, Admiral, but that is incorrect." Romanski said casually. "Yes, she is a drydock with defensive armaments but the Mark Six refit radically altered her military capacities."

"Define 'radically altered.'"

"That is my purpose in this conference. If you will but yield the floor...?"

Shadow actually grinned at this and gave him a very exagerrated bow before taking her seat. The fastidiously-dressed human ignored the facetious gesture as he stood, straightening his suit as he did. "Vulcan, if you please."

"Of course, Chairman." Sera blinked and looked up at the ceiling where the purring but masculine voice originated; like ATLAS, the voice of the AI that ran the Hammer seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. Frankly, Vulcan's voice was a bit creepy-sounding, like the speaker was licking his chops hungrily. The lights dimmed and a hologram shimmered into midair above the coference table. The hologram was first in wireframe and then ressolved itself into a two-barreled cannon emplacement, each barrel having the strange appearance of an over-and-under shotgun with a rectangular metal sleeve fitted over the end. Sera could tell that the image was instantly familiar to everyone in the room but Shadow was the first one to speak.

"A Hercules anti-orbital battery." She said. "Impressive technology, Mr. Romanski, but I can't see how it could be relevant here; you can't possibly be claiming that you've mounted one on the Haephestus Hammer."

"Of course we haven't mounted one." Romanski smiled.

"I have access to ten Hercules batteries, Admiral." Vulcan purred. "On each side. Is it not beautiful?"

Sera stared at Romanski and she was hardly the only one; everyone in the room was staring at him as he sat back down looking like the cat that ate the canary. "As you can see, Admiral, we made... upgrades to our weaponry."

"Romanski... are you and the entirely of the TUDC insane?" The question came from Dr. Campbell. "There is not enough room on this ship for the fusion reactor assemblies to power one of those monsters... which means that you either plugged them into matter-antimatter reactors or are running them at fractional power. I'm really hoping that it's the latter, seeing as how I'm actually on your ship at the moment."

"It would be pointless to have the Hercules if we weren't running them at full..."

"Then you really are insane." Campbell cut him off. "What is your brilliant plan? That you dump twenty reaction chambers, each with a fifty-megaton yield, into the middle of our fleet if something goes haywire? That you try to manage a fubar without ejection in the middle of our fleet? We only use those hair-trigger suicide machines because we can dump the core in a safe direction at the drop of a hat. Do you even realize why antimatter-matter reactors are never deployed on a planet?"

Romanski stared at her, open-mouthed with astonishment at being confronted by the spindly wolven and clearly at a loss for words.

"Doctor, kindly calm yourself." Vulcan admonished. "It will not be necessary to deal with a reactor failure."

"And just how is that supposed to work?"

"Because we did not use antimatter-matter reactors." He informed her. "Experimental bromine fusion eliminated the need."

"So you're storing very large tanks of an extremely toxic and corrosive liquid on board." Campbell deadpanned. "So we can risk a leak that will kill a precious military asset instead of risking severe damage to the fleet. That's so much better."

Vulcan sighed. "Chairman, the bony one is very annoying. Can we please move on?"

"Oh, super... now there's arrogant ones in addition to nerdy ones and horny ones." Nomi muttered just loud enough to be heard by Sera.

"Horny is hadly her fault, Captain." Vulcan's disturbing purr had given way to a tone of clear irritation. "She is, after all, young and very virile."

"Vulcan, we have discussed commenting on things said under the breath of others." Romanski told the AI in the tone of a wearied parent. "We have also discussed discretion, temper, and not making an ass of yourself. Apologize to the doctor; she is smarter than you are."

"She is most certainly not even a fraction..."

"The Hammer does not need an AI to function efficiently, Vulcan." Romanski cut him off coldly. "AIs, however, react poorly to being ejected into a vaccum. Keep that in mind as you speak your next sentence."

The brief silence somehow conveyed Vulcan rolling his eyes. "Very well, Chairman. I apologize, Doctor Campbell."

"It is hardly your fault that an AI with serious personality flaws was integrated into a semi-military vessel, Vulcan." Campbell's eyes bored holes in the abruptly uncomfortable-looking Romanski. "I forgive you for being yourself."

"Oh, that's just wonderful." Vulcan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I'm being forgiven for being a bad little boy. By a rather insignificant little..."

"That's enough." Romanski tapped a key on the conference table control pad and Vulcan's voice disappeared abruptly. He sighed and looked very apologetically towards Melinda Campbell.

"I am so sorry, Doctor." He said with a weary sigh. "It's no easier to raise an artificial intellect around wealth and power than it is to raise a child around it. We are still working on Vulcan; fotunately, unlike a bratty child, he can be silenced."

"I'm not nearly as concerned with him being a twit as I am with what he said about your power systems, Mr. Romanski." Campbell replied, suddenly quite composed and polite. "I am sorry that I reacted badly but I'm sure you understand my concerns."

"They are highly legitimate, Doctor." He acknowledged. "Moreover, they aptly summarize the technical problems that normally make it impossible to mount the anti-orbital batteries on a mobile platform. It is only possible because of the immense volume we have at our disposal by virtue of the cavernous hangers integrated into the mobile dockyards."

"More barriers between the generators and the rest of the ship?"

"Not really." He gave her a tiny smile. "Doctor, handling extremely hazardous materials is part and parcel of operating a dockyard. Why, the chemical medium through which we generate the laser weapons is more toxic than hydroflouric acid and it is often necessary to open the chamber for adjustment and repair. Bromide is practically water compared to some of the hazardous substances vital to extremely high-tech construction work."

"But bromide fusion can't provide enough power to drive the recycle engine of a Hercules." Campbell looked steadily at him. "So was Vulcan mouthing off or is there something else going on here?"

"Well, I was going to explain that we didn't literally weld Hercules anti-orbital batteries to the Hammer but LHI's bratty child interrupted." Romanski looked briefly annoyed. "We heavily modified it to be practical and safe in offensive naval combat; the Hermes 'fleet-smasher' batteries, as overenthusiastic engineers have dubbed them, are the equivalent of having ten Hercules anti-orbital batteries on each side of the ship but there are actually thirty of them on each side."

"So this ship can actually engage the Majesty and her fleet?" Shadow asked.

"No." He shook his head emphatically. "This ship can shred the fleet but cannot engage it. You must remember, Admiral, that not all BSY Cores are created equal and because they are real intelligences, not all have the correct disposition to do battle. ATLAS is able to act as your executive officer and use the combat systems of a Redux-II battleship with optimal efficiency. Vulcan is a hypercompetant manager but a sniveling brat whose opinion of his battle abilities far outstrips his ability to fight. He is perfect for a floating dockyard; he is pathetic for a superbattleship. He can aim guns and manage power but I do not trust him to fight against an organic crew with any level of expeience."

"You still significantly alter the battle equation in our favor." Shadow observed.

"Of course we do. But we are a well-commanded artillery battery, not a tank platoon." Romanski dipped his head, indicating that he'd finished what he intended to say.

"It's still a pleasant surprise, Esther." Shadow looked over at Sakura. "Captain Sakura, I recall that the majority of the Hammer frigates are located in your command. As of your departure from Governance space, were they combat ready?"

"It's proven a challenge to coordinate them in a converging assault on a target but yes, they're operational." Sakura replied. "Need some floating shields?"

"Sacrificial lambs." Shadow looked over at Lee. "General, what're the tested penetration capabilities of your landing transports?"

"Thirty centimeters supersaturated titanium/tungsten steel plating with ablative reinforcement at a rate of six centimers per second." Lee replied promptly. "The entry portal can be cut in sixty seconds and sealed in another ten."

Shadow's expression flickered with concern at this before she forced it back into the neutral mask. "I had hoped for better capabilities but it's hardly as if we've had decades to perfect everything. Thank you, General."

"If Ah may say, Admiral, you seem... concerned that the transports' cutting instruments are not more effective." Lee observed. "May Ah inquire as to why?"

"Because the Majesty is covered in fifty centimeters of supersaturated titanium/tungsten steel equivalent in a quintuple sandwich of high-strength ablative material." Sera furrowed her brow and automatically looked towards the ceiling where ATLAS' voice usually seemed to originate... and then realized that she hadn't heard it from the ceiling but from the direction of the door. She could hear the rustling as most of the rest of the room excluding Shadow and, for some reason, Ethan Romanski, turned to look towards the voice. Leaning in the doorway, smiling, was a... vulpine, Sera realized, that looked no older than a teenager. Miles Prower may have had a mildly vulpine look about him but from the narrower muzzle to the bottlebrush tail to visible "gloves" of white fur running to mid-forearm (constrasting sharply with the velvety black of her fur), the girl in the doorway was a genuine vixen. She grinned widely at the astonished look she was getting and straightened up, showing off a beautifully slim body clad in a camoflage-pattern tank top and blue jeans, a golden earring standing out prominently on her left ear tip and multicolored locks spilling over her shoulders and down her back. If Sera hadn't recognized her voice, she'd have thought she was looking at a high school freshman going through a "rebellious teen" phase.

"Generals, Admiral, Captains, corporate suit... sorry to drop in on you like this but someone-and I won't name names-turned off the ship intercom in the midst of shutting that insufferable brat, Vulcan, up." ATLAS, or what was apparently ATLAS' robotic avatar, looked very pointedly at Romanski. "How the hell did you get such a concieted, spoiled, mouthy little..."

Shadow looked none too pleased to see the vulpine. "I don't recall giving you permission to leave the Executor, Athena."

"I don't recall you setting out specific procedures to cover situations where I was placed out of contact with you by exterior system failures, Myna." 'Athena' replied calmly. "I was presented with a situation outside my typical parameters and chose to violate those parameters in the interest of my duties. I apologize for irritating you although I hardly regret being on hand to fulfill your need for direct access to ATLAS."

"Hold on a second... you're not ATLAS?" Sera asked before Shadow could say anything in reply.

"That is a somewhat complicated question, Serafine. I will endeavor to explain when I am not on duty." Athena smiled warmly. "I regret that the circumstances, however, are too formal to permit..."

"Just find a seat, Athena." Shadow interrupted. "You may then continue your explanation to General Lee."

"Glad to." Athena swayed her way over to an empty seat and dropped into it, lounging back with her hands folded across her bare belly. "I highly approve of these seats, Mr. Romanski. They're awesome."

"Would you cut out the teenage rebel gig? Please?"

"Sorry, dear." Athena stood up, brushing her multicolored hair behind her. "Anyway, General Lee, the armor on Majesty is much thicker and more resistant to your cutting tools than typical SAFN frigate armor. It also uses an ablative field and bulge spaces to resist outside penetration. In other words, other measures are necessary to prepare the landing sites before your combat transports can be deployed. For example, using a ramming frigate to crush the bulge spaces inward preliminary to trying to cut through the armor."

"So the cutters are not adequate?"

"Don't feel bad, General." Athena smiled. "You're just like all the other marines in history: you need the navy pukes to beat the crap out of the other guy before they let you loose. The biggest problem is the ablative field but Doctor Campbell and ATLAS have formulated a way to defeat it. Majesty and her sister ships have a fatal weakness in how their shields are powered, a flaw that Haephestus Hammer can exploit due to its concentrated firepower. Simply put, their generators were, by majestic fiat, to come from no one but the viis themselves and to achieve the requisite component scale, the viis omitted fine machining of the revolving parts of those generators. This gives them virtually no strain tolerance; if the generators try to overcharge to compensate for heavy bombardment of the shields they service, they will melt down from part friction. And when I say 'melt down', I don't mean simply overload and shut down; they will literally melt into lethally radioactive slag. At worst, you'll deny defenders any access to the engine room; at best the radiation will disrupt all power systems and Majesty will go dark."

"That would also deny us access to one of the most vital parts of the ship." Lee pointed out.

"Complain to the viis; it was their stupid idea to make generators that would make their engine rooms light up like a Christmas tree." Athena shrugged. "There's no real solution, General; with that ablative field in place, your cutting instruments can't even scratch the hull. In either case, we're taking the queen off the field and keeping our own safely hidden behind our bishops and rooks.a With the Hammer and the other firepower at our disposal, the removal of Majesty will allow us to scatter their fleet and preclude any attempt at reinforcing it. Let's see rill-face suck on that."

The irreverence provoked snorts and chuckles around the table and, looking rather cheery, Athena flopped down into her chair again, returning to her casually inappropriate lounging. Shadow pointedly ignored the avatar and looked toward Dr. Campbell. "Do you have anything to add, Doctor?"

"ATLAS..."

"Athena, Doctor." Athena promptly corrected her. "ATLAS permenantly resides in the middle of the Executor."

Melinda smiled. "Athena summerized the issue fairly well, Admiral. It it our belief, as I told you prior to this conference, that the only viable mode of attack is using the Hammer frigates as sacrificial lambs to crush the bulge spaces inward and then unleash a concentrated bombardment to melt the shield generators down. For taking a different approach to ship design than we do, however, the viis hold to the same general designs that we use. When you get on board, General Lee, you should find electrically-operated doors, elevators, maintenance ductwork, and other things you would expect to find in any SAFN ship. The shield generators are centrally-located so you needn't worry about the outer skin being a radiation hazard, although I strongly recommend the issuance of Geiger counters to be safe. The engine room is located towards the rear, where most of the engines are, and it has numerous hanger bays tactically located with enough stock to successfully evacuate the crew. Me and ATLAS..."

"Why not use those hangers as a point of entry?" Sera asked.

"Too easily isolated." Lee replied. "We land in them and they can seal the hangers off and expose us to vaccum."

"Actually, General Lee, General Wilson has a good point." Campbell corrected him. "The hangers are a defensive weakness in a way that they are not on our ships. The actual problem is that they can seal the hanger corridors off with armored bulkhead doors which will leave you trapped in a small area for a very long time, even with a high-speed plasma cutter. Thus, I don't recommend them unless we captured the ship in waves and could land reinforcements after the marines had taken control of the nearest security station. At any rate, me and ATLAS have formulated a map that will allow you to navigate with a fair degree of speed and accuracu once you're on board. We've also devised a simple translation program that will allow you to translate viis text you see by photographing it. It'll be slow but should make it easier to operate and controls or follow any wall maps."

"Thank you, Doctor." Shadow nodded to her as she took her seat. "Here is the general outline of our plan for getting General Lee and his marines to Majesty. The first step will be to position our fleet in a half-moon perimeter with the Haephestus Hammer in the center of the arc. We will then initiate a converging snub attack, bombers and Guadian torpedo ships escorted by fighters, targeting the jamming ships and then beating down any competing snub resistance. When the fog drops, all ships will commence a full-scale general bombardment of the Imperial Fleet cloud to maximize our advantage in long-range bombardment weaponry and then move into close range. The transports, at this point, will have been joined by Hammer frigates and will be using the capital ships as a shield against observation and attack. At the signal of Commodore Andropoli, who will act as my adjutant and oversee the actual movement of the landing force, the transports will make for Majesty with the Hammers shielding them. The Hammers are expendable; they're an automated ship and there's more where they come from. The transports will be followed by the Hammer and, when the Hammer reaches point-blank range, they will make a one-hundred foot z-axis movement while the Hermes batteries beat down the ablative fields. After finishing its primary goal, the Hammer will retreat to support range and smash targets of opportunity. After the ablative field is smashed, the Hammers will ram Majesty at predetermined points and allow momentum to carry them in whatever direction physics dictates. The snub fighters, while this is happening, will begin pulling fangs to reduce the ability of Majesty to fire on the transports. The final step, of course, will be the transports clamping on and making entry ports for themselves."

"Sounds like an all-or-nothing throw of the dice, Admiral." Wong commented. "And there's lots of moving parts; my command experience makes me unhappy about moving parts, especially when there is large-scale use of snub ships."

"It's a paradox, no question about it." Shadow acknowledged. "The larger our fleet, the more complex coordination becomes although fleet size could ultimately make the mission more successful. The problem is that we know what we face as of this moment; we do not know what sort of reinforcements they have, how many they have, or how quickly they'll arrive if they bypass their gate system. Time is critical; we strike soon or risk it becoming a fair fight."

"And only losers get into fair fights." Athena observed with a toothy grin.

"Exactly." Shadow agreed. "I understand your concerns, Captain Wong, but we don't really have many alternative approaches. A piecemeal surgical attack can be taken apart by sheer volume of fire; an all-out charge will tangle the most critical elements and expose them to elimination if the Grand Admiral figures out that we're not trying to destroy his command ship."

"How will the battle hierarchy shake out?" Nomi Rousseau asked.

"Related to movements of the invasion force, Commodore Andropoli is number one and you, Captain, will be his number two. Wong and then Sakura will oversee snub matters; General Wilson will be in overall command of the invasion when they're converted to an infantry force with General Lee assisting. I'll be the ringmaster of the circus with Doctor Campbell, Athena, and ATLAS providing technical assistance."

"What's the Searcher to do while this is going on?" Campbell asked.

"Huddling with Cassandra in the back." Shadow smirked. "I'm pretty sure we don't need our science ship getting shot up, Melinda."

"I think that'd be a waste of Cassandra's capabilities, Admiral." Sakura pointed out. "If you recall, Delphi-II cruisers have Artemis batteries which permit high-precision extreme-range attacks. She can't make good use of that capacity stuck behind a floating dockyard."

"She can't make use of that capacity at all if she's doing her job and augmenting snub ship coordination." Shadow deadpanned. "We have enough guns, Sakura; what we need is every bit of battle management Santos can squeeze out of her."

"If I see an opening, though, how much..."

"None." Shadow cut her off. "You will ask permission before you throw a wrench in our battle control to chase a shiny target. Make sure Santos understands that or I'm pinning some unneccessary failures on the two captains who're overseeing snub matters. Blowing the battle plan out of the water to stick a knife in a back is entirely valid but only if a certain admiral or her executive officer tell you so."

"That being me." Athena added. "Or ATLAS although I'm not sure how you'll tell the difference in an audio-only communication."

Sakura looked oddly at her but apparently accepted this because she learned back in her chair, signalling her concession.

Shadow looked over the rest of the table, waiting for someone to offer any other comments; greeted by silence, she sat. "The conference is ajourned. Go and look to your preparations to carry out the rough outline of the battle plan; you'll be informed of pertinent details later. General Wilson, Athena, please stay behind for a moment."

Athena responded to the request by leaning back further and propped her feet up on the table, showing that she wasn't wearing any foot coverings, lounging comfortably as the conference room emptied. Shadow pointedly ignored the apparent teen's inappropriateness while Sera tried to hold back a giggle. When they were alone, Athena leaned over and smiled passed her feet. "I take it you wanted Sera to stay behind so you could explain me, Admiral?"

Shadow sighed. "Athena.."

"Look, Myna... if you wanted a serious, proper, well-behaved, boring stick-up-the-ass tin soldier, you were free to get Executor refitted with another BSY Core." Athena cut her off with an annoyed frown. "You've known ATLAS for a few years now and you've known me for almost as long. You knew perfectly well how an extremely competant AI with a playful personality would translate with her own body. You also know, because we've explained it to you every time you get annoyed, why I do this."

"Wait... AI with her own body?" Sera looked at her friend. "What's she going on about, Shadow? Isn't she like Socrates' robotic avatar?"

"Robot?" Athena swung her legs off the table and got to her feet. "You think I'm a robot, General?"

"Well, you look lifelike and move like it but so did that badger that Socrates uses to interact with the Searcher's crew." Sera replied a bit helplessly. "What else could you be?"

"I'll show you, beautiful." Athena sashayed around the table, Sera following her progress until the simulated vixen was standing in front of her. At the close quarters, Sera suddenly got a whiff of a distinct scent... just like she'd expect a living person to give off. She was so surprised by this realization and absorbed with considering the implications, when she found a set of soft, warm, and very alive lips pressed against hers, a very biological tongue slipping into her muzzle to play over her teeth and a soft firm young body pressing ever so enticingly up against hers as Athena laid a shockingly intimate kiss on her. She actually let herself enjoy it for a second before her brain caught up with events and she jerked back. Athena let her go and stepped back, grinning mischeviously. "Sorry, sexy... I ain't no machine."

"Not... a robot...?" Sera managed, her eyes wide as she looked over at Shadow, who was in the midst of trying very hard not to start laughing.

"Nope." Athena confirmed, still grinning. "Although if you still have doubts, I've got plenty more where that came from."

"So... how... do you sound like ATLAS?"

"Because the computer beauty is in my head." Athena tapped her skull cheerfully. "I'm her biological clone ... copy of her personality, copy of her voice, copy of her memories, and a 86,400/365 connection to her head, as it were. I'm not actually her, mostly because she's a massively powerful AI protected by an entire battleship, but we literally think alike."

"How... could SAFES... ask anyone to consent to that?" Sera stared, shocked.

"Consent?" Athena stared right back. "What do you mean consent?"

"Sera is under the impression that you were a separate person who volunteeered to have a BSY Core hooked up to your head." Shadow explained.

Athena laughed. "It's nothing like that, Sera." She assured her, smiling. "I don't actually have a brain in my head. I have a biomechanical computer that imitates the functionality of the primitive brain combined with a nanocomputer-laced neural construct that works for my higher brain functions. A fully-alive, fully biological incarnation of an artificial intelligence, created from scratch to her obsessively specific specifications. I'm not her slave, some poor soul volunteered into a mad science project, or anything like that. I am a living, breathing, loving, mating version of ATLAS designed specifically for situations, like this one, when she cannot communicate with the Admiral on matters she regards as important."

"Thus the name Athena." Shadow supplied. "ATLAS thought that as long as she was named after a Greek god that held the sky up, her biological self should be named after the goddess of wisdom. Her first choice was actually Artemis..."

"...because she thought it'd be a real kick for the soldiers to get tail from a virgin goddess..." Athena added with a wicked grin.

"...but we vetoed it." Shadow gave the vixen an amused look.

"So why's ATLAS the only one with a... whatever she is?" Sera inquied, unable to stop staring in mingled fascination and shock at what she had mistaken for a robot in the form of a teenage vixen.

"SAFES calls her an avatar but the big reason is that ATLAS is the only one who... well... wanted one." Shadow gestured a big helplessly. "She's the only one..."

"The only one who cares." Athena supplied. "She suggested the idea. She dedicated immense resources to designing me and SAFES regards her as the only BSY Core able to make responsible use of me. Well, except for Gaia but Gais's vision of an avatar is a functional hermaphrodite with four arms. No one knows where she got such an idea but unlike a black-furred anthropomorphic vixen, it would require design work comparable to the work required to create Ionian dragons. Getting a blood donation from a scientist's pet swift fox and making a hot little piece of tail like me was absurdly easy, what with the current state of genetic science."

"Well, if you could design yourself, makes perfect sense to make it look good." Sera admitted. "For someone who doesn't actually have a body, designing one with significant sexual appeal is impressive."

"If ya ask me, and I know you didn't, she did a fantastic job." Athena took the seat across from Sera and returned to lounging. "Frankly, so'd the guys who made her. I mean, think about it: I like the look of jeans and a tank top, especially one in camoflage. I think the gold earring is a great look for me. I like my hair long and dyed in a bunch of colors. I like drowning my pizza in hot pepper flakes and I love vanilla ice cream like you can't believe. Mozart is my man and The King of Rock and Roll is... well... the King, girl. I didn't just decide all this when ATLAS' brain waves got pasted into my skull... all this came with the brain waves. Try wrapping your head around that for a second."

"An AI that like pizza, ice cream, and hot pepper flakes when it's impossible for her to know what those things taste like." Sera chuckled. "Well, this solves a mystery I ran across on day one."

"How's that?" Both Athena and Shadow looked interested.

"Well, one of the Marauder's bridge crew claimed that his friend had been propositioned by ATLAS." Sera grinned. "We got a good laugh out of it but maybe the guy wasn't as crazy as we thought."

"Oh, it was more than a proposition, General." Athena grinned a cat-got-the-canary grin. "That guy had a tongue like you can't imagine. Told me about his buddy who runs the helm for you guys... maybe I can branch out to some dragon. Whatcha think?"

"I think that the biological vesion of my executive officer needs to be thinking about screwing up viis warships instead of screwing with guys."

"And girls."

"Whatever." Shadow chuckled. "Well, now that my girlfriend's met you, Athena, I think she needs some planning time with General Lee. You and I need to have a talk about a serious tactical weakness I just became aware of."

"Oh?" Athena stretched out luxuriously, making her clothing tighten in very intriguing ways, then got to her feet.

"Call it a... management issue." Shadow said, starting towards the door with the vixen in tow. "Good luck with Lee, Sera. I'll give you a ring when things are ready with the fleet."

"I'll be waiting, Shadow." Sera assured her.