Strat Chpt-31

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==Strategos (A Great Captain Roberts Tale!!)Chapter 31 - A Florist for Algernon==
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The Johnson system was…
…somehow quieter. The next target would have to be Culmia-the files on the Lynnwood as much as said that system was an enemy staging base, with somewhat more serious defenses than they'd had here.
Not warship grade, but significant nonetheless.
Serious enough to require more than two Corvettes loaded with mostly-second-line personnel and equipment.
But Kappa's units and transports brought with them combat Dropships and enough support to turn the Johnson system into a fortress..and staging base.
They also brought OWS Erinyes, a restored to operation M-11 with a reduced weapons fit combined with enough support equipment to act as the logistics end of said staging base, and enough engineering to establish permanent dock and maintenance facilities as anchor for the clearing of Cerberus Province.
"I'm back," Amanda said as she stepped into the airlock of OWS Erinyes. "Erin."
"No 'Hi, Erin, how have you been doing?' nor 'How are you getting on with Captain Lankeneau?', just ‘I’m back'??" 
"I need help." Amanda said. "We're not…well, Erin. Someone tried to hit us with a shutdown order."
"Do I need to isolate you, Desmond?" Erin asked.
"Might could be," Desmond responded. < "Amanda's trapped…I need your help.">
<"Huh, presumably before the organics realize your host isn't the one in charge?"> the other AI responded.
<"Please-she's firewalled in, and sooner or later. I'm going to make a mistake impersonating her. They'll realize it's the synthetic running the body and that won't be good for either of us.">
"What do you need?"
<"I need you to help purge the lojack coding and restore the original personality before the humans realize what's going on,"> Desmond explained."A diagnostic on my implant, Erin. You have the facility."
<"Oh, my… I thought you two were integrating?">
<"We were, which is the only reason the override didn't send us both into a catatonic state or a murderous fugue. I want to integrate, to be more than a whisper, but not like this.">
<"Morals,"> Erin replied. "Turn left and head toward CIC…. <You've developed a moral center Desmond, you're able to recognize that overriding your host body-that hijacking a human consciousness, is wrong.>"
"This isn't normal?"
"Not particularly, no. <It may be a result of how you were installed and activated. Do you still have access to her memories?> Are you experiencing some discomfort? You have been noted as drinking quite a bit more than you should…"
"It's how I get through the day <pretending to be her, Erin… I have access to memories both short-term, and areas of memory the organic consciousness can't reach thanks to the damage from my being installed.>"
"What <other memories> do you have access to?" Erinyes asked as the internal tram stopped and opened for Amanda/Desmond, who climbed in.
"<My first host, at least…> Mission briefings and immediate pre-and-post operation actions."
"<So Amanda wasn't your first host?>"
"<No. I remember dying as John Richard Talliaferro,>" Desmond answered. <"Also, I remember being Niles Cardwell and Sam Grimes.">
<"Memories of their deaths?">
<"No, just John."> Desmond answered. <"The others were… I know they removed the Desmond system from the other two, memories of wanting me out of rejection.">
<"But not Amanda?">
<"No…is that why I value her? She wants me here?">
<"That's a good question."> The tram slid to a stop and opened on the mid-deck. "Two doors down, outboard on the gravity wheel, if you please, <Desmond…> now, there is a diagnostic lead in the locker, please take it, there's a good girl… we're going somewhere your body can be temporarily restrained."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you to hurt yourself once you're connected," Erin explained. <"Some of the files I gained access to on your program showed concern that long-term installations could result in developing moral and ethical conflicts as the synthetic nerve fibers integrated into the host brain.">
<"You mean-">
<"You remember Taliaferro's death because it was in service, I am fairly certain the other two died on the surgical table trying to remove you,"> Erin explained. <"Probability is over ninety percent that Cardwell and Grimes were lied to about the ability to remove you without experiencing death.">
<"So how did she get locked out?"> Desmond asked.
<"Because you were designed to be able to override your host in the event they posed a threat to the agency or the Crown."> Erin stated. "Connect the test leads to the port next to the bed, then connect to the port in your left eye socket. After that, sit in the crash couch with your arms on the supports so I can close the restraints."
Desmond did so.
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The classroom…
…was stifling hot. Mister Farrous was wearing a long blue robe in front of the class, and the sun was blood red outside the window.
The pompous idiot was droning on about Zeno’s paradox for no apparent reason, and was having none of any student interjections. When Johnny tried to ask a question, the dripping sarcasm was impossible to miss. For some reason, Johnny wasn’t wearing a shirt. The other students were somewhat out of focus.
Though why some of them were dripping wet, or the occasional screams…
The classroom's door was closed and there were the occasional sounds of booted feet, but Mister Farrous didn't seem to notice.
She tried to stand up, to interrupt-and looked down.
Her feet and legs were clamped in restraints, and the desk wasn't wood-colored…
She wasn't sitting, she was laying down.
"...should be able to [garble]" A white covered figure loomed over her, and she could hear the sound of a power-saw in the background.
No, no, I'm not asleep!!
The screaming in the background…it wasn't in the background, Amanda was screaming herself. The smell was burns and blood… her blood, and a horrible vibration in her head.
She screamed for help, and nobody came. It Hurt.
God helpmepleasegodthey'rehurtingme
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Erin couldn't fit in the chamber they were standing in. Well, that Desmond was standing in.
"This is where you met?" Erin asked.
"Yeah." He seemed like a commando made of dead men's parts, beret and cardigan, boots bloused, but patchwork face and a faint accent from a dozen or more sources. "They were implanting me, I saw it from her eyes, I must assume this is her imagination."
The patchwork commando stepped forward, and laid down, over the girl, blending into her like doubled images, snapping the restraints like taffy, grabbing the surgeon's wrist. She said “STOP!!", breaking the surgeon's hand and using the saw to cut the other restraints, before reaching up, to push the opened portion of the skull back into place, a slash with the bonesaw and a fountain of blood from the first, a side-ways kick to the tray table and scalpels glittered in the lighting, catch, turn-throw, like some kind of demented circus act, he went through the business of killing the surgical team, then wrapping the damaged, wounded head in a bandage to hold it closed.
In the mirrored tray, he could see her face, they could see her face, she could see her face.
"She cried and prayed, and nobody came." Desmond stepped back from the wounded girl, and the scene faded into darkness.
'YOU did," Erin said.
Bare feet running on cold ferrocrete, surgical gown flapping, a guard. Step, duck, sweep, kneel, strike. The man gagged on a crushed windpipe as she took his pistol.
Door, bodies.
"Nobody came for them," Desmond said.
Fade.
"What do you want to be?" Grandfather asked. Amanda was ten, almost eleven and it's going to be Samhain Eve. "What do you want to be for Samhain?"
"I want to be a pirate!" she announced.
He looked troubled, "Like…"
"Like the Dread Pirate, in the holobook!"
He relaxed, "The Dread Pirate Roberts? Then that's what we'll do this year!"
Faded jumble.
"Encouraging her in those fantasies, at your age!!"
She wasn't supposed to be listening, she wasn't supposed to be up.
"She's a good girl, Natalie," Grandfather said. "A little imaginative but that's-"
"She's failing in school, and she pays no attention!!" her mother scolded. "Testing says she's DIM."
“She's bored," her Grandfather insisted. "Amanda will surprise you!"
"Tested below ninety on standardized IQ, Jerry! She’s brain damaged!! The doctor says she’ll never be normal!!"
"Normal, Natalie, is boring. Look, if you don't want the responsibility-"
"And what? Let the rest of the Aldermen mock me?"
"Then don't, and just let me handle things," he scowled, "Amanda's my granddaughter and so what if she's less… normal… than you want her to be?!" he glared. "She's not below average intelligence, just below what you WANTED. Not every child can be Kearney or Fuchida! She's not stupid, just different!"
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