AQoG Chpt 3

==A Question of Greatness - Chapter 3 -==
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===Critical Decisions===
Detroit System, Periphery - Early 31st Century
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We managed to board the Star Lord with little difficulty. It helped when I had all of the access codes and overrides already imprinted into my brain. Hector gave me another very constipated look when I just input the codes without any hesitation but said nothing about it.
 
Once inside of the Star Lord we found ourselves in a large hallway that was illuminated with only emergency lighting strips, giving the inside an eerie other worldly feel. Despite myself I couldn't help but feel struck by how spotless everything was, every wall and light and panel looking like it just came off a factory assembly line. Everything we could see was done in the palette and style that was the unmistakable trademark of the SLDF.
Wordlessly, I set off in the direction of the most isolated cargo hold where I knew the final "gift" we'd (I'd?) received was waiting. The two of us walked in silence, our steps seemingly loud when compared to the stillness of everything around us, neither of us willing to speak as not to ruin what felt like a very special moment. I paused for a moment at seeing a Cameron star painted on the bulkhead, stopping to stare at it as a deep feeling of nostalgia welled up ion my chest. A feeling of loss. Shaking the feeling off, I moved on, pretending not to notice that my brother stopped for a moment to reach out and lightly touch the star before following.
 
There were signs posted everywhere, clearly marking where to go to get anywhere on the ship, so I guess that might have been why my brother hadn't seemed curious about how I knew where to go. Not that I would have needed any of those signs. Every inch of the Star Lord was imprinted into my memory as if I'd served on the thing from the moment I was born. It was eerie to know something and have no idea how you knew it. I shuddered and sped up my pace just a bit.
 
A Star Lord is big, but even then it wasn't too long before we arrived at our destination. Cargo bay number six. I stopped in front of the door, hesitating before opening it.
 
Are we really doing this? I found myself thinking. Is this really something I can handle? 
 
Absolutely, I found myself answering in my head. Are you going to settle for mediocre or are you going to fight for something great? 
 
"Logan?" Hector whispered, the first word either of us had spoken since entering the JumpShip.
 
"I'm fine, just taking in the moment," I improvised on the spot. Then without waiting to see what he made of my answer I reached out to the panel next to the bay doors and entered the command for them to open.
 
The doors opened with what felt like dramatic slowness. Inside taking up a huge chunk of the cargo hold was a… very strange device. It titanic in scale, easily dwarfing even the biggest BattleMechs. The strange device was in the shape of a cube and was also very obviously mechanical. It reached most of the way up to the ceiling, making it at least sixty-five feet high by sixty-five feet across. It was also red in color and had ominous looking blue light shining out from gaps in the machinery.
 
I'd never seen anything like it before in my life. Then a memory surfaced that made me pause. That's not really true, now is it? It turns out Earth-Logan had seen something like it in a vid program back in the 21st century. I looks like a borg cube, only red and with ominous blue light instead of green. 
 
"What the hell is that?" asked Hector in a hushed whisper. "I've never even heard of the SLDF making something that looks like that!" 
 
That's because I'm not at all certain the SLDF actually made this, I thought.
 
Instead of answering, I began to make my way around the cube, walking around it as I marveled at the sheer scale and otherworldlyness of the thing. Following something between an instinct and a memory I made my way to the middle of one of the faces of the cube and pressed my thumb against a completely random seeming piece of the machinery. I flinched and hissed as I felt something like a needle stab into my thumb. Drawing my hand back, I saw a fat drop of ruby red blood on my thumb.
 
"What happened?" Hector asked, suddenly there looking over my shoulder, his face ridiculously serious for something as stupid as a bleeding finger.
 
"I'm fine," I said, feeling a bit annoyed at his over protectiveness.
 
He was about to reply when suddenly, the cube reacted. Right where I'd gotten my thumb stung, a piece of the machine suddenly turned and rotated out, pieces retracting and expanding in a ridiculously complicated manner until in front of us was what looked like a large computer screen and a standard keyboard.
 
Before our eyes, the screen flashed to life.
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>>>Biometrics Recorded
>>>Welcome, user Logan Axe 
>>>You now have Unrestricted Access 
>>>Stand by during boot sequence… 
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"Okay," Hector said, sounding a bit freaked out. "How the hell did that thing know your name?"
 
My guess? Whatever being orchestrated this whole thing. But that bit of insanity wasn't something I was ready to talk about. "Look at this thing," I said instead, gesturing at the monolithic cube shaped device. "I bet it has computing power that is light years ahead of anything we could dream of. It probably gained access to information about me from the DropShuttle or maybe even from the planet."
 
"I guess… that kinda make sense. But to do something like that… oh damn. Do you think this thing is an AI?", suggested Hector
 
I frowned at his question. "I don't know. I know the basics of what it does. But I don't have any real idea of how it works."
 
"Great. Possible AI then. Wonderful."
 
"Oh hush. I think it's finished."
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>>>Boot sequence completed 
>>>Welcome to the first ever not-SLDF Mech Replicator! 
>>>Would you like me to display this unit's basic functions? Y/N
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"It's a what?!" yelled Hector.
 
"Don't scream in my ear!" I said, flinching since he'd been hovering right over my shoulder. I shot him a dirty look. "It doesn't just magic mechs out of thin air. Well, it kinda does, but not really. Do you want to read the instructions or not?"
 
Hector muttered a very unconvincing apology, and at his urging I turned back to the screen. Taking a deep breath, I hit Yes.
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>>>The Mech Replicator functions as follows: 
>>>Bring a unit recognizable as a BattleMech to the Mech Replicator 
>>>Then activate the 'template creation' function. The Mech Replicator will deconstruct the BattleMech in a few minutes. Note that the BattleMech will be lost during this process.
>>>At this point, the template of the BattleMech will be stored in the Mech Replicator.
>>>To replicate a stored BattleMech template, bring the required raw materials before the Mech Replicator and activate the 'absorb materials' function.
>>>Once all required elements have been absorbed, you may replicate any mech template stored in the Mech Replicator. To do so, activate the 'create BattleMech' function.
>>>Only one BattleMech may be replicated at a time.
>>>The new BattleMech will be an exact replica of the one stored in the template.
>>>The new BattleMech will be created at a rate of 1.5 tons per day. Interrupting the process will lead to loss of all materials used.
>>>The Mech Replicator will work only for items it recognizes as BattleMechs.
>>>Additional functions and memories may be unlocked by user Logan Axe. Would you like to know more? Y/N 
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Both of us just stared at the screen in silence for a few minutes, chewing on what we had just read.
 
"So," began Hector. "This thing… basically, once you feed it a Battlemech, it can just make you an unlimited number of identical copies?"
 
"Provided you have the raw materials you'd need, sure," I said with a frown. "Not a trivial limitation by any means."
 
"Still," said Hector, beginning to sound more and more excited. "This thing is practically a universal 'mech factory! Who needs engineers and precision machining and incredible amounts of capital and technical know how? Just throw the raw materials at this thing and you can have regiments of 'mechs!"
 
"Hardly," I said with a scoff. "Did you fail to notice this limitation here? It can only construct mechs at a rate of 1.5 tons per day. Doing some quick head math, if you wanted a regiment of mechs that averaged 50 tons per mech, and if you could keep this machine running 24/7 without interruptions which I doubt we could manage, it would take something like ten years for this machine to make an entire regiment."
 
"Logan," said Hector, for all the world sounding like a pouting kid instead of a twenty-six year old Mechwarrior and newly minted head of our family. "Why are you being such a soaking wet towel about this? Can't you see what a miracle this machine is? If we wanted to, we could probably sell it to the Taurian Protector for an entire planet and he'd consider it a bargain! Not some useless backwater either but one actually worth something."
 
"We already have a planet worth something." I snapped.
 
"Yeah, sure. Look, I'm just saying this thing is the closest thing to a miracle we're ever going to see in our lifetimes, and you're acting more irritated than excited about it. What's going on in that head of yours?"
 
I paused, checking myself. He was right, of course, but at first I couldn't figure out what was bothering me about all this. Then it hit me: seeing this absolutely impossible machine that shouldn't exist, for the first time that finally drove home how much I was being played with. It didn't matter that it was working to my advantage (for now). The idea that some otherworldly being could conjure something like this up on a whim was just jerking me around was profoundly irritating. Couldn't such a being be out there fixing galactic hunger or something else equally worthwhile? Instead he was messing around with a minor nobody noble in the middle of nowhere as far as most of humanity was concerned. What was the point of that? What was the sense of it?
 
I shook my head. As much as it irked me, that wasn't a productive line of thought. You don't throw away gold just because you found it at the bottom of a latrine. Earth-Logan had heard that once and had thought it was hilarious. Maybe Hector had a point. Acting like a 'wet towel' wasn't going to accomplish anything. And there were so many things I could do with a machine like that.
 
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, offering him a small smile. "I guess the expected 'being overwhelmed' thing finally started to hit home with me all of a sudden. You're right. With this machine… with the DropShips and the JumpShip… forget changing everything. What couldn't we accomplish if we set our minds to it?"
 
"Yeah," Hector said, a dreamy smile on his face. "I wish dad could have been here to see this."
 
I felt that soul-deep ache in my chest again, but resolutely ignored it while plastering a slightly manic smile on my face. "Well, let's see what this last option at the bottom yields us, shall we?"
 
I pressed Yes and a new line of text sprung up.
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>>>Achieving objectives recognized as Great Things by the system will unlock additional functions and memories. 
>>>What constitutes a Great Thing? This system will not reveal that. It will be up to you achieve greatness in your own way.
>>>Additional functions that are possible to unlock include vastly faster and more varied production capabilities.
>>>As for additional memories that are possible to unlock, ask yourself this Logan: Do you remember Logan playing that one BattleTech computer game during summer break?
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I blinked uncomprehendingly at that last entry before it suddenly felt like an icepick was being rammed into my brain. Flinching I clutched my head and stumbled. I barely registered Hector calling my name before a flood of memories that had been previously 'walled away' from my conscious recollection came rushing back.
Earth-Logan had burn himself out after years of going to grad school and doing non-stop internships, so he took a whole summer off to recover. 
However he was broke so he spent most of the summer holed up in his small apartment. 
He did find a videogame to play on his computer on sale though. For some reason he was immediately hooked on that game even though he'd never heard of it before.
It was about a mercenary out in the periphery. Him and his merc company. 
What was his name? What was the company's name? 
There were lots of battles. A war. In the not too distant future, certainly within their lifetime.
A war? Against who? When? Who would fight a war out here in the periphery? Davion? The Canopians? 
There was a cache of old SLDF military gear full of royal 'Mechs. How many? A lot. Companies worth at a minimum. Mediums and heavies and assaults, incredible BattleMechs filled with lost technology. 
Where?! Where is that cache? Somewhere in the periphery? Somewhere else? Near? Far? 
What about the war? Who fought? Who won? 
What about Detroit? Did Detroit get caught up in this war? 
 
I took a deep shaking breath, like I had just come up from underwater. My brother was holding me up, shaking me and calling my name. Like that is going help anything, ugh. 
 
"Logan? Hey! Are you alright?!"
 
"I'm fine." I ground out, pushing him away once I felt steady enough that I probably wouldn't fall on my ass. I did wobble like a baby chick though, which didn't do much to shake that look of naked worry on Hector's face.
 
"Why don't you sit down for a bit? You don't look so good. Are you sure you're alright? I knew we shouldn't have taken you out of the hospital with a concussion!"
 
"A mild concussion by now," I protested without much heat. As to his other suggestion though I didn't see much reason to refuse. My head was killing me now, even if it was from something different than what Hector assumed.
 
I sat down with my back against The Cube, and leaned my head back against it, closing my eyes. After hesitating a moment Hector took a sit next to me, close enough to catch me if I started going funny again I suppose. Taking a few deep breaths I tried to make sense of the memories I had just seen.
 
Well. If I'd thought my life couldn't possibly have gotten any more inexplicable and bizarre, then I would clearly have been wrong. I'd had some of Earth-Logan's memories blocked away. Memories of a video game that somehow had predicted the future in my region of space. The particulars were all blocked to me still however. I frowned and resisted the urge to slam my fist against something. The intent of granting me just these memories was obvious. It was to entice me to achieve Great Things so I could get access to more of the memories. A cache of companies of royal 'Mechs? A war that would happen soon, but no context as to who or why or where, just a feeling of certainty that it was bound to happen within a decade or two? It was all bait to get me to play along.
 
But damn it, as much as I hated the methods, would playing along really be such a bad thing if those were the rewards?
 
It's not like I had never entertained thoughts of doing Great Things. And Earth-Logan had always, always been ambitious and driven as hell. On that subject the two of them (us) were more or less of the same mind.
 
"Logan?" Hector said after about ten minutes of silence. "Feeling any better?"
 
I nodded and shot him a grateful smile. "I think it was just a passing thing. Thanks for saving me when I swooned there, my hero." 
 
Hector snorted. "Well, if your terrible humor is still intact then you'll probably live, I think."
 
With a huff of amusement, pushed off against The Cube and pushed my way to my feet. When I glanced over at the computer terminal on The Cube, I saw that a new message was displayed there.
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>>>That is the end of the information the Mech Replicator is willing to provide at this time.
>>>Do your best to achieve greatness Logan. Or don't. Either way, the decisions and consequences will be yours and yours alone. 
>>>Activate this panel in the same way when you wish to make use of my functions. Goodbye. 
 
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As soon as I was done reading it the computer terminal retracted leaving no trace it had ever been there. Looking at Hector he didn't seem very surprised. I guess magically vanishing computer terminals are the least of the incredible things we'd seen today.
 
"You know," said Hector, picking himself up the floor. "I can't stop thinking about what we might be able to do with all this."
 
"Oh?" I replied, curious as to his thoughts on the matter.
 
Hector began to pace, his feet seeming struggling to keep up with the speed at which his thoughts were racing. "Well, the whole point of you going off to study in Taurus was so you could take charge of all things security related for the family right? Give you some real military training so that you could not only fight but also lead. Well, with all this you could start your own mercenary company, just like you always talked about. Maybe rotate a portion of the outfit to do off world contracts while the rest used our Detroit holdings as home base, while at the same time also providing security for us. Earn money while continually expanding. Depending on how big we could get, we could start offering protection to the rest of Detroit when the militia refuses to respond to another pirate raid."
 
"That would go over well with McCleary, I'm sure." I deadpanned.
 
Hector however just kept talking. "But you know what else this potentially represents? Power and influence. The more you have of it the more likely people are to listen to you when you speak. With this, we can figure out a way to leverage this to make the Ten Families listen to us about McCleary. If we could get them to agree that something was suspicious enough to warrant an investigation, that might be all we would need to get enough support to have him removed from his position. But how would we prove he was responsible? We'd have to figure something out. We can't let this attack on us go unanswered."
 
I frowned. That plan… well, it had some glaring holes in it. "What happens afterwards? Assuming we can remove McCleary without things breaking out into open fighting?"
 
My brother briefly hesitated, and I knew than that it hadn't occurred to him that this might end in a lot of shooting instead of the Ten Families simply voting to take action against McCleary. That was an uncertain outcome, no matter how much evidence we managed to dig up or how much our star looked to be on the rise. Who knew what side the others in the Ten Families would choose when push finally came to shove? What personal interests they would be weighing against giving us the justice we were demanding? My brother was a surprisingly decent Mechwarrior but at heart he was more of a merchant and a diplomat than warrior. He also had the unfortunate tendency to assume the best of people, which I didn't share.
 
"Well," Hector resumed, a frown on his face. "I suppose we would simply vote someone else to be in charge of the militia. Maybe not a hereditary title but a rotating one? As for McCleary, I'd like him dead," he said bluntly. "But we might have to settle for stripping him of his wealth and sending him into exile. We might have to let his children retain some of their wealth and their position in the Ten Families though. I know some people wouldn't like the precedent of removing a family from our number. There would be a lot of negotiating to be done before we could see what might actually be possible."
 
I looked at my brother found myself slightly disappointed. There was no doubt in my mind that he was sincere in wanting to get justice for our father, but this wishy washy diplomatic approach he was suggesting was incredibly timid. I didn't know for sure then, but if I'd had to guess it would be that my brother was simply locked into a mindset of the way things "had always been done" in our world. He wasn't being weak, or Terra forbid cowardly. He was simply lacking in imagination.
 
However, I shouldn't be too hard on him. Truth be told, before I woke up with a new set of memories in my head I might have just nodded my head and gone along with a similar plan, too afraid to rock the boat, too embedded in the system to see any options that existed outside of it. But my perspective had grown and with that had grown my ability to see and imagine what might be possible.
 
"Why should we settle for that?" I asked him.
 
Hector stopped pacing, sending me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
 
"Why should we settle for more of the same? The Ten Families system is deeply flawed. It's best redeeming feature is that no one wants to rock the boat too much but that also tends to mean nothing of substance ever gets done. Why not take this opportunity for all it's worth?" I asked, baring my teeth in a facsimile of a smile.
 
Hector was looking at me now like he wasn't sure he'd ever seen me before. "What are you suggesting?"
 
Detroit-Logan was never much of an orator, but thankfully now I had Earth-Logan to lean on for that.
 
"You saw what happened in the raid a few days ago. Do you think we'll ever truly feel safe again when we have to share power on a planet with nine other families that could decide to stab it in the back if it served their best interests? You say it's happened to us once already. Who is to say another family won't try this again, next year or in another fifty years? There is only one way that will guarantee our family's safety and make us untouchable. Untouchable now and untouchable for our children and for our grandchildren."
 
"Logan," Hector said, deeply frowning now. "I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at?"
 
He didn't see it? I thought I was being perfectly obvious about it.
 
One of the first things I'd called Earth-Logan was a shark, and that assessment had not changed. We (I) had the mindset of a predator with the instinct to push any advantage and use that to go straight for the throat. That kind of attitude never made him any friends, but then again no one ever thrived in a violent universe by trying to be everyone's friend.
 
Logan wanted this, both sides of her. For her family. For herself. For greatness.
 
"There is a reason all of the Successor States and all of the Periphery Powers have one absolute head of state, you know," I said, a fire blazing in my eyes. "The only polity to have a governing system resembling ours is the Aurigan Coalition and the one thing they are infamous for is their weak and ineffective government. Detroit would do much better with one head of state. With one family in charge. With one dynasty to provide stability to our world for many centuries to come."
 
Hector looked both fascinated and a little horrified now. "Logan… how did you come up with this? What you're suggesting..."
 
"If we're smart, we can do this," I said, putting all of the faith and strength I had into my words.
 
"We can and should become the undisputed rulers of Detroit. For the people. For our family. For the justice that we are owed."
 
Hector was well and truly unsettled now I could tell, but I still couldn't contain the predatory shark-like smile that cut across my face. I lifted my arm and held out my hand to him in the universal gesture of invitation.
 
"So. What do you say brother? Are you ready to join me in making history?"
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