WP3025 Chpt 34

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==Chapter 34 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Aspirations and Fears===
Dropship Queen Anne, Planetary Transfer Burn
Canopus System
Magistracy of Canopus
1st June, 3015
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"Hey," said Terri blearily from the bunk as I walked into my cabin. "You're up late."
 
"I hope you didn't stay up for my sake." I said, walking over and brushing her hair behind her ear.
 
"I might have drifted off," she said. "A bit." When I didn't say anything, she looked away. "I was worried."
 
My guts tightened. "Por que?" I asked.
 
"I read the news too," she said. "and I saw Socks with a bottle."
 
"He'll be fine," I said. "I hope anyway." I didn't like to think about what would happen to my friend if he found out his family had been caught in the crossfire. "One of Jai and Kalpit's boys put him to bed."
 
"I hope he doesn't get bad news. From his family, I mean."
 
I traced my fingers along her jaw. "Me too." A thought occurred to me. "Did you get a message?" I asked with mounting dread.
 
She looked back up at me, and I could see that she was trying to hold back emotions. "Apparently Father spearheaded an attempt at building an irregular force on Holt. The plan was to flip Sorunda and Ling." She smiled a bit. "I think he was doing it as a rude gesture to the Rose. Anyway, it would have threatened a strike on New Delos." Her face fell.
 
"They didn't get the chance, did they?" I asked.
 
She shook her head. "No. He says it was the Highlanders. Not sure which unit." She sighed. "Apparently both Aleks and Peter convinced him that they'd be useful. Thicken the unit's 'mech complement."
 
"Are they…" I started.
 
"Alive?" She nodded. "Aleks got his Hermes blown apart under him, but he ejected." Her arms tightened about her chest. "Father ordered Peter to retreat when the battle went against them, but he had some of those armored rocket pods, and figured he could pull one of those hero stunts on an assault." Her eyes focused on an image only she could see. "Went for a Battlemaster." She laughed. "He got the rockets off, but the return lasers stripped his chest and a supporting Highlander tore his arm off with the big gun. Impact meant he didn't even hit with more than a few rockets." She looked back at me. "Father had to pull units out of position to have a chance of getting him out. Probably wouldn't have if Peter wasn't driving a Spider. Idiot brother."
"How's Sir Jason?" I asked, gingerly.
 
"He kept his 'mech," said Terri. "But he might lose a leg. Or at least part of it. He took a cockpit hit, and spall tore up his lower thigh. Apparently some ashqua got in the wound, and it's causing complications."
 
I winced. Coolant poisoning was an occupational hazard for Mechwarriors, but it wasn't pleasant to think about. "Do you want to see about getting him to see a Canopian doc?" I asked.
 
She shook her head. "If he loses the leg, there's no way he'd accept a cybernetic. It'd kill his political career, and Earl Eastwick would never forgive him. And it's not like we could get a doctor to him in time, or if any of those women would be interested in helping out a Marik MP." She gave me a rueful smile. "Thanks for the thought, Gid. Maybe if he keeps the leg and needs physical rehab."
 
I nodded. "Sorry I wasn't here when you were reading the message," I said.
 
"What were you up to with Vixen?" she asked. "In the ready room, I mean?"
 
"Talking about blame and responsibility," I dissembled. "And being a mercenary CO."
 
"I suppose she would know about that," she admitted. "For more than five hours?"
 
I nodded. "We talked about a lot," I said. "We even got onto our childhoods at one point. I think Di really needed to talk about some of the things she'd been carrying from Crossbones. Gives me a much better appreciation for the confessor thing the norteños do."
 
"She did say she'd talk to us about that stuff." she said.
 
"Claro, si." I said.
 
"Did you talk to her about feeling like the war is your fault?" asked Terri, knowing I hadn't ever shaken the feeling in the nearly four months since I had talked to her about it.
 
"As a matter of fact, yes." I admitted.
 
"What'd she say?"
 
"That I was an idiot." I said, then shook my head. "No, that's not fair. She told me I was wrong."
 
"Listen to her," said Terri. "she's a smart lady."
 
I thought about Diane encouraging me to come clean to Terri about who and what I was. But even as I entertained the idea, I could feel the words freezing in the back of my throat. I couldn't spring that on Terri now, not with her father injured in battle, and her brothers in who knew what condition. No. Now wasn't the time. "She is." I said instead, rubbing Terri's shoulders.
 
She pressed back into my hands. "Do we have any good news?" she asked. "I could use some."
 
I let out a bit of a chuckle. "It's going to be a bit of a headache," I admitted, "but yeah, some."
 
"Oh good."
 
"You want me to have headaches?" I asked, mock shocked. "Evil woman."
 
Terri blew a raspberry. "Good news," she prompted. "Share."
 
"Well," I said, "according to Cliffhanger, the planet's had quite the influx of Southwesterners seeking jobs. To the point where they're starting to take over bars from the locals."
 
Terri laughed. "Oh no. They didn't steal a bar, did they?"
 
"No," I said. "Just laid claim to a couple of them, and have been sharing very emphatic opinions with the proprietors about how a bar is best run, stocked, decorated…"
 
Terry shuddered with laughter. "I'm sure they're reasonable requests."
 
"…staffed, what music to play, what the name of the place should be." I continued. "You know, standard stuff. On the other hand, some of my misbegotten relatives have come with rides of their own."
 
"That is good news," said Terri. "How many?"
 
I laughed. "Sixteen of them." She gave me a disbelieving look. "No, really," I said. "Cliffhanger was very specific."
 
"Wow," she said. "That's a lot."
 
"Yeah," I said. "Looks like we might need to see about converting the Sagan or Wiglaf into a proper 'mech carrier."
 
"Or get another military Dropship," offered Terri.
 
"If we could be so lucky," I said. "but we're full up on jump collars now."
 
"I suppose even your luck has it's limits." she admitted. "Hoping for another Jumpship to drop into our laps is probably a bit much."
 
"Yeah. I'm probably going to have to deal with one of the Barzani sisters if we want access to one…or start looking outside House Landynski, and there's consequences to that, of course."
 
"House Centrella comes to mind." said Terri.
 
"The Magestrix hates Leaguers," I pointed out. "More than normal for a Canopian, even."
 
"She can't ignore a regiment popping up in her backyard, Gid. Mark my words, she's going to be looking to get her claws on you." She shrugged. "But you're right, there's no way I'll be able to get into that meeting."
 
I groaned. "I was supposed to be a fighter pilot. How did I start having to think about meeting with heads of state?"
Terri smiled up at me. "The universe recognizing your worth." she said, tugging at my arm. "Now come on, you need your sleep, and I need a teddy bear."
 
"Funny," I mumbled as I lay down next to her in the bunk. "I thought I was more of an otter."
 
Sleep came quickly. Rest did not.
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===Preparing to take Flight===
Dropship Queen Anne, Canopus IV Orbit
Canopus System, Magistracy of Canopus
16th June, 3015
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<<"Are you sure about this, sir?">> said Cliffhanger over the radio.
 
"Absolutely," I said, pulling on my gloves as I sat down in Pursuer's cockpit, settling into the ejection seat and starting to clip into the harness.
 
<<"We might start to get complaints if we always announce our return with an airshow.">> she pointed out.
 
"Well that just speaks to a terminal lack of good taste," I said, checking the fit and movement of the harness.
 
>>"Not everyone has our appreciation for the sound of fusion torches, Duster.">> pointed out my XO.
 
"Too bad for them. We'll bring them around." I paused in the middle of lowering my neurohelmet into place. "Look, Cliffhanger, I've been working with you on knocking together a TO&E for the Coyotes pretty much since we got in system, despite the lightspeed delay. We've got a rough outline ready for polishing…"
 
<<"We do need to work on our infantry element still…">>
 
"A rough outline ready for polishing," I repeated. "I've been good. I deserve stick time, especially in a new spaceframe." I brought the neurohelmet down around my ears, the systems picking up my personal comm in real time. "Besides," I said, as I tested the fit and snugged the mask into position. "This will bolster morale and make a political statement too."
 
<<"Who's morale?">> asked Cliffhanger. <<"The unit's or yours?">>
 
"Yes." I said, connecting the helmet to my war machine and feeling the first creeping sense of mind machine interface. I looked about the bay. All the techs appeared to be clear. I gave the hand signal to the crew chief, getting a 'ok' sign back. I closed the canopy. "Look," I said as the seals engaged. "The flight plan is already filed, and I couldn't work through re-entry anyway." I hit the scramble switch.
 
<{"Security Check. Neural Mapping Shows Variance Within Acceptable Deviation. How must we act?"}> asked Betty.
 
"We have to act as if it is possible to radically transform the world," I said. "And we have to do it all the time."
 
<{"Code Accepted. Reactor Online, Sensors Online, Weapons Online, All Other Functioning Systems, Nominal. Welcome Colonel. Ready for operations."}>
 
<<"…hope you have a good flight, Duster.">> said Kumari, her comms cutting back in now that the security check was done.
 
"Oh," I said, settling my hands on the controls and testing the control surfaces. "I intend to." I felt the cyclonic torches come up to speed and power flood through the vernier system. "Coyote Lead, up. Coyote Flight, sound off."
 
<("Coyote 2, up and green.")> said Terri from her Stingray.
 
>>"Coyote 3, purring like a kitten."<< said Vixen, still in Cliffhanger's Corsair.
 
(<"Coyote 4, ready to leave you all in the dust.")> said Socks at the control of his new Sabre.
 
"Queen Anne, Coyote Flight ready for departure."
<<"Opening the bays now,">> said Spuds. <<"Hope you're ready to get shown up by my flying.">>
 
I laughed. "Now now, Spuds, be nice to the poor techs." 
<<"I turned on the fasten seatbelt sign.">> she said unrepentantly. <<"Besides, I've got a mechwarrior here who thinks that he's impervious to motion sickness.">>
 
"Now that's a worthy cause," I said as the bay door opened to the star-speckled void and the curve of Canopus below.
 
//"Traitor."\\ said Natan from the bridge link. //"Taking the gringa's side over mine."\\
 
"Hey, look at it this way, Nat. If you can keep your lunch down, we might be able to move you over to a LAM." I felt a thunk as the maglocks released. "Launching." I advanced the throttles and Gs pressed me back into my seat.
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===Spectacular Entrance===
Thistledown Spaceport
Continent of Salonika, Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
16th June, 3015
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I was freefalling through the air above the spaceport, feeling the air of Canopus buffet my limbs. I tumbled, G-forces building up. The panicked screaming of the aerospace traffic control tower was incessant, inquiring about my emergency and advising me to eject. The ground rushed up at me at terminal velocity.
 
I smiled. I was going to get such a fine for this stunt.
 
My hands settled back on the controls and I closed my eyes, focusing in on Pursuer's senses over my own. Any instrument rated pilot knew your own perceptions could be suspect. Your vehicle's sensors were far more reliable.
 
I forced our limbs spread-eagle, arresting the tumble and positioning us face-down to the wind as we fell. Drag slowed the unspooling of the altimeter, and I trimmed our wings to align with my preferred landing zone. This accomplished, I straightened my LAM's legs and arms and tucked them against my body, reducing my drag as much as possible in this mode, even folding my wings back. My airspeed crept back up towards terminal velocity, and I kept a sharp eye on the decreasing altitude.
 
>>"Coyote 1!">> screamed ATC. >>"PULL UP!"<<
 
I couldn't help myself. "Yeehoo!" I yelled back over the open comms, before transitioning to a proper Cerillos coyote trilling yip. Swinging my legs forward to align myself, I cut in the jumpjets at full thrust, arresting my momentum with brutal Gs, flaring my wings back out for the drag and visual impact.
 
I could have made a hard superman landing like that. It would have been impressive enough. It would have stressed the actuators and scratched the paint though.
Besides, I had another mode to show off. Triggering the transformation, my cockpit shot forward as the Shrike's torso reconfigured itself into a fuselage, legs bending forward for VTOL efficiency, and arms outstretched for balance and fields of fire.
 
Now in airmech mode, I skated forward on a cushion of thrust, indulging myself in a quick spin about, leaning into it as if I was dodging an oncoming mech. I planted my open hand to use as a pivot point, and shoved, popping myself up just a little higher and transforming back to mech mode with a flourish, pointing my snubby at an open patch of sky and triggering it, even as the rest of my flight flew up behind me and pulled up into a textbook bomb burst.
 
I damn near didn't need to use the external mics to hear the applause from the cheering Trinity worlders in front of me.
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===Complaints about the Recuits===
Landynski Compound
Continent of Salonika, Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
17th June, 3015
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"What the hell is your LAM doing on top of my fighter?" snapped Rebin as he stormed back into the dining room where the rest of the senior house membership were enjoying breakfast.
 
I did my best to give him a guileless look, but I could feel the corners of my mouth turning up. "I don't know what you mean," I said, lying shamelessly. "I left more than a meter worth of space between the tail and Pursuer's feet."
 
"The nose is the problem," he grated. "It's over my launch path. And a meter is not sufficient clearance."
 
"I had to land somewhere," I said. "It fits, Shrike sits." I shrugged as he purpled dangerously. "Don't worry, I'll move it after breakfast. Got a meeting to get to after this."
 
Rebin let out a wordless sound of fury and spiked his neurohelmet on the ground, starting to take a step towards me, before thinking better of it as Diane stroked the hilt of her new cutlass beneath the table. Spinning about, he stalked out of the room.
 
"I know they're tough," said Joseph, "But that doesn't seem like a smart thing to do with a helmet."
 
"It's not recommended procedure, no." I said. "Anyway, what were we talking about?"
 
Birwa tapped a slender finger against the table. "Your countrymen."
 
"I assume you mean the Trinity Worlders," I said with a note of frost.
 
"Yes, yes," she said, moving past her attempt to downplay my Canopian citizenship. "They are spending far too much time in the Mindstar holdings."
 
"Are you really going to tell me you're complaining about soldiers gambling, boozing, and whoring?" asked Terri, incredulously from her seat next to Joseph. "Because I have news for you…" she said.
 
"This is Canopus," said Birwa in a chill tone. "Their behavior is not the issue. The issue is the establishments they're frequenting." She clucked her tongue. "Mindstar is not our company."
 
"They can't exactly take a Bankhead Lines cruise." pointed out Diane.
 
"A bit out of their price range," said Esther impishly.
 
"They also have to stay with the unit," I said. "Not that many of them would probably go for what Bankhead offers."
 
"Not everyone has refined tastes," said Birwa. "But we should have them coming to Landynski bars and brothels. There are profits escaping."
 
"Well, hell," I said. "Don't come complaining to me if they aren't looking for what you're offering. That's a marketing shortfall on your part. Supply too if I'm not mistaken."
 
"You could order them to frequent our businesses," said Birwa.
 
I shook my head. "If I try and order them where to drink and screw, one of two things is going to happen. Either one," I put up a finger. "I'm gonna have less mercs, or two," I put up a second finger. "They'll say yes sir, then go and do what they want, with a side of 'screw Landynski bars' because they were told to do it. And then I've got a discipline problem." I chopped my hand to the side. "No way. Basic command lesson. Don't give an order that's not going to be obeyed. Besides, leave time is leave time. So long as they're ready when they're on the clock, and they're not breaking laws, it is not my problem or business."
 
"Well, I'm having to play nice with Mindstar for the bars they've been taking over!" snapped Birwa.
 
I snorted. "What for?"
 
"CMC is under House Landynski protection," she sneered, explaining like I was some sort of dullard. Which from her perspective, I was. "Which means it's the House's responsibility to smooth over ruffled feathers." She didn't quite glare up at Sahar, who winced anyway. "And let me assure you, they are ruffling feathers."
 
"Illegally?" I asked.
 
"Rarely," she admitted. "And minorly."
 
"Send me the records anyway," I said. "That's something to catch before it gets too far. I can do that much."
 
"You might also point out to Mindstar that they are making C-bills hand over fist." pointed out Phillipa from her location up by Sahar. "Not to mention generating goodwill with a unit likely to be important to the Magestrix in the short term at the very least."
 
"And you could try setting up a bar they actually want to drink at, Birwa," said Esther. "Maybe even closer to the hangars." She waggled her eyebrows.
 
I nodded at this. "Convenience counts," I said. "But they're likely to keep spending time at bars that they've got changed to their liking. Ornery souls and all that."
 
Birwa sighed. "We'll talk later, Esther."
 
"How is your unit coming along?" asked Rezan, who had remained silent for most of the breakfast.
 
I blinked, caught off guard. "Pretty well. It's going to be a bit of a dance getting everyone trained on the new gear and shaken out into formations, but training is going well enough." I sighed. "Little light on infantry, aerospace, and VTOL pilots"
 
"Shouldn't that be easy to recruit for?" asked Sahar. 
 
"Not everyone can make it as an ASF driver," I said. "And the VTOLs I'm talking about are the ones that actively beat the air into submission to fly. It takes a certain type of person to be good at that."
 
"What type is that?" asked Rezan. 
 
"Pretty much the same type to fly ASFs," said Diane. "But they don't need neurohelmet compatibility."
 
"As for infantry," I said. "I've got an idea for that. I figured I'd try recruiting from the favelas around here."
 
It took a second for them to catch up with the term. "The slums?" asked Birwa. "Why?"
 
A number of different answers flashed through my head. Because I have more in common with them than you. Because they deserve better than they get. Because it's a power base. Because you don't like it. "They're likely to be tough. And they'll be grateful to the House for the opportunity."
 
"I like it," said Sahar. "We should do what we can for the people who rely on us."
 
That proclamation essentially shut down any argument on the point. I gave her a grateful smile. "I am scratching my head on what to do for LAM pilots," I admitted. "It's a rare skill set."
 
"You seemed to handle yours well enough at the spaceport," said Rezan.
 
"Gracias," I said. "But I'm a odd case. I'm a trained ASF driver who grew up in the saddle of agromechs. And I'm still not as good in airmech mode as I am in the others."
 
"Don't the Mariks have plenty of LAMs?" asked Sahar.
 
Terri smiled. "More than any Successor State other than the Kuritans, Contessa," she said. "But it's a relative thing, and most of them are in elite units that aren't likely to come join a new mercenary command."
 
Sahar frowned a bit. "Oh."
 
"There's probably some dispossessed LAM pilots we might be able to pick up," said Terri in a cheering tone. "It's not like it's a common billet to open up. We'll probably even see some Dracs show up. Maybe even some Davions or Liaos."
 
I nodded. "But there's an even bigger squeeze on it. Our LAMs are picky about their pilots." I ignored Birwa's scoff, and the implied 'obviously not'.
 
"What do you mean, Gideon?" asked Joseph. 
 
"The controls need someone with really high neurohelmet compatibility." I said. "Nearly two standard deviations above the mean."
 
Joseph whistled, and most of the rest of the table who weren't sleeping with me shared a shocked expression. "Wow. What's the cutoff for mechwarriors?"
 
I shrugged. "Most academies take only the top 15 percent or so, but honestly, I'd say 25 percent of people can jockey a mech fine with some acclimation, so long as they can learn the piloting side. ASFs, probably 33 percent of people have brains for it?" I looked to Diane and Terri, who both nodded. "Yeah. So we're looking for people with rare brains who can learn at least the basics of ASF piloting and being a mechwarrior. And who want to be a mercenary."
 
"And aren't Lyran," put in Terri in a joking tone. 
 
"Or Circinian," I snarked back. "Anyway, yeah, it's a problem. I'm probably going to have to turn away perfectly qualified LAM drivers because their brains don't talk to neurohelmets well enough." I gave a 'what can you do' shrug.
 
"That does seem like quite a hurdle," said Phillipa.
 
"It's probably not as bad as all that," I clarified. "Trinity worlders tend to run towards high neurohelmet compatibility, a lot like noble houses. There's a selection pressure. But it does mean that we'll have to train people up, and we won't be able to count on the LAMs to thicken up our fighter screen for a while."
 
"Aren't they bad fighters?" asked Sahar.
 
"Yes," said Terri, Diane, and I in unison. The ladies deferred to me, with chuckles. 
 
"I'd much rather be in my Samurai than in Pursuer if I was in a dogfight," I clarified. "Though I've got some ideas I want to try…" Vixen elbowed me. "Right, but the big point is that it's still worth a lot to put up an extra twelve fighters, even if they're not the best. Mutual support and outnumbering the enemy counts for a lot."
 
"We're going to be hard-pressed to get enough pure ASF drivers as it is," said Diane.
 
"I thought he said a third of people can be pilots." said Esther.
 
"A third of people have enough neurohelmet compatibility," clarified my wife. "Do they have the reflexes? What about the ability to hold up under G? A mind for three-D maneuvering? Multitasking ability?" She ticked off points on her fingers as she went. "Enough math skill to plot courses in and out of atmo? Aggressiveness? Tactical sense? The list goes on." She shrugged. "The compatibility gets you through the door. Good aerojocks are much rarer."
 
"We'll get there with time and training," I said. "But it's going to be a thing for a while. At least Cliffhanger was able to get those simulators for us."
 
"I'm glad we were able to find those," said Rezan. "As the Contessa said, House Landynski is pleased to extend our hospitality. I hope they were not too expensive."
 
"Not for what they bring," I said, as graciously as I could manage. Kumari hadn't told me that House Landynski, or more specifically Rezan Landynski had been behind them. "They weren't cheap, but over the long run, they'll save a lot in logistics, thank you."
 
"I am gladdened to hear it," she said with a smile, drawing strange looks from the others at the table.
 
I focused back on my meal for a bit. I hadn't just been tweaking Rebin. I did have a meeting with the Human Health Admin today, and I didn't want to go on an empty stomach.
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===Negotiations===
Human Health Administration, Astarte
Continent of Salonika, Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
17th June, 3015
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I was feeling a bit exposed as I sat in the HHA's waiting room in Astarte. Apparently it had been out of the question for me to bring Terri or Diane with me on my visit. I'd had to leave them behind at the spaceport as I boarded the HHA's highspeed transport. Both women had plenty to do as we continued to stand up CMC, but I was used to having them at my side. But neither was Canopian, and it was apparently out of the question for them to enter the HHA's Astarte stronghold.
 
At least I had been allowed to keep my weapons.
 
"I wonder if I should have asked Ms. Kasparova to come with me," I muttered to myself. Not that it would be easy to pry 'Auntie Phillipa' away from Sahar. The girl had pouted when I left for the spaceport.
 
"Colonel Zalman?" asked a woman's voice. "Sorry for the wait. A budget meeting ran long."
 
I smiled at the disgust carried by the words 'budget meeting' and stood, offering my hand. "I understand all too well, Dr..?"
 
"Chambers," she said, shaking my hand. "Though the correct title is Straios."
 
My eyebrows shot towards my hairline as I looked at the woman, who looked for all the world like a Lakota mother I had known back on Cerillos. "Straios Chambers, then."
 
"You've heard of us then." she said. It wasn't a question.
 
"Only generally," I said. Which was true. I'd only read one thing about them, an article that was supposed to date from the ilClan era. I hadn't known if the Straios program was active at this point. Early days maybe?
 
"Sharp ears, in any case," she said, leading me back towards her office. "I doubt most Canopians have heard of our initiative."
 
I shrugged, biting my tongue. What I had read was less than encouraging. Apparently the Straios program had been responsible for the Magistracy's continued domination of the medical scene, but it struck me as a program that would strip bright students away from fields that might interest them, and force them into medicine and biotech. And that didn't get into the psychological effects, or the ethical dilemma of the conditioning. "I'm sure that'll change with time," I said.
 
"If we can keep the initiative running for long enough," she said. "And if it follows our projections." She opened the door to her office and waved me to a chair, sitting down behind her desk. "I understand you have something for the HHA?"
 
"Not on me," I said. "But I recently came across a stash of Star League bioweapons."
 
The naked hunger on the Straios's face took me aback. "Go on," she said. "I hope you didn't destroy them."
 
"Some of them," I said, pulling out my noteputer and showing her a video of the deorbiting container. She looked ready to bite my head off. "But I kept samples," I said. "I figured that you might be able to get some research value out of them." I brought up a list of what we had found, handing her the noteputer.
 
She poured over the information. "Are these on planet?" she asked, sharply.
 
I shook my head. "No, they're at the Nadir Jump Point, on board my JumpShip. I didn't want to risk anything."
 
She nodded. "That was well done. Some of these would be hellish to fight if they got loose." She handed me back the noteputer. "How were they stored?"
 
"SLDF CBRN lockup on the Jumpship." I said. "It was orbiting a brown dwarf. I've got reading on the dwarf, but I didn't exactly come equipped for detailed astronomy. There was at least one radiation security purge of the Jumper while it was waiting there. There's plenty of information missing, but it looks like the Jumper was positioned there pretty much just before Kerensky showed his heels to the Sphere."
 
She scowled. "That's a lot of time and radiation exposure."
 
I shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you."
 
"Oh, it's not your fault," she said, waving a hand. "But pristine samples would be very valuable. I doubt these will be." She looked off into the distance. "Still, there might be worth in looking at how they mutate…or if the SLDF had techniques to minimize…" She shook her head and refocused on me. "What do you want for them?"
 
I blinked, not expecting the blunt question. "I was just handing them over to people who might be able to get something out of them," I said. "I sure as hell wasn't about to use them in combat."
 
She rolled her eyes. "There's always a price. If there's something we and you Leaguers have in common, it's that." She folded her arms across her chest. "Do you want the HHA to support you before the Crimson Council?"
 
I cocked my head to the side. "Are they that valuable?" I asked.
"They might be." she said. Which was a yes.
 
I shook my head. "I'm not looking for a peerage," I said, trying to ignore memories of Terri telling me I would be given that offer, and I should append 'yet' to my statement. "If I have to name a price, I'd appreciate the HHA's support with recruiting medical staff for my unit. And on a personal level, I would love access to any databases of psychological and sociological research you might have access to."
 
Her eyes narrowed. "The first is easy enough. What makes you think that you would be able to follow research papers though?"
 
Training and practice, I thought. I was going to school for this shit. "It's a hobby." I said instead.
 
She stared at me, as if she was trying to dissect me in her mind. "I can offer access," she said, finally. "But only to you. The contents must be kept secret. The HHA does not share research with other polities without direct order of the Magestrix."
 
I swallowed a cutting comment about how that policy was worse for the progress of the field than the paywalled journals back on Earth. On the other hand, Holy Shroud. "Agreed. On my honor, personal access, not for distribution," I said.
 
"Good!" she said brightly, now all smiles. "Well, let's figure out how to take those bugs off your hands safely, shall we?"
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*;Notes from the Author :A little something to start off the week. Rocky relationships, logistics, politicking, and a little channeling Isamu Alva Dyson.
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