WP3025 Chpt 33

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==Chapter 33 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Watching the a retrorockets' red glare with sigh of relief===
Dropship Queen Anne, Deep Space
Zikaron - Orbit
Magistracy of Canopus
1st June, 3015
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The glare of the retrorockets stood out as a pinprick of light against the bulk of the brown dwarf.
 
"Down it goes," I murmured, watching the deorbit burn from the bridge of the Queen Anne.
 
"Good riddance to bad trash." said Spuds from her helm station, tracking the WMD container. Realizing what she had said, she looked back over her shoulder at me. "Uh, sir."
 
I waved off the faux pas. "I ordered the thing built, didn't I?" I asked. "Kinda surprised a Taurian is so glad to see some nukes go, though."
 
She frowned. "They're not all good," she pointed out. "and it's not like we can't see the scars of using them at home."
 
I nodded in acknowledgement of her point. "That's fair. I suppose you would have a keen appreciation of what SLDF weapons mean."
 
"It's not like you chucked them all, Gid." pointed out Natan from Spuds's other side.
 
"Speaking of which," said Spuds in a wheedling tone, "it's not too late to send the chems and the bio samples down the gravwell. I could plot a course right now."
 
I shook my head. "No. The chems we're keeping are nasty, but they give us a less-than-lethal option against people we'd rather not kill. Those gasses and sprays may be spooky, but they're a lot more survivable than being flash-boiled by a pulse laser."
 
Spuds didn't look happy, but she nodded. "I suppose."
 
"I wonder if Wilhem could knock up a mech-scale stunner." mused Natan.
 
"You'd think someone would have done it before." I said.
 
"Eh," he said, rubbing his chin. "Can't rightly say that most people tend to care about non-lethal when mechs get involved. And the man is a genius that you just installed into probably the finest workshop this side of Irian. Do you want me to ask him?"
 
I bit my lip. "It'd be a good first test for prototyping…" I nodded. "So long as it doesn't get in the way of the duplication project, sure."
 
Spuds gave Natan a grateful look, then turned back to me. "So, about that course…"
 
"We don't know it's going to work," I said. "And before you ask, the bio samples are going to the Human Health Administration. They may be SLDF terror weapons, but they're also examples of bleeding edge Star League biotech. If there's anyone who can get something worthwhile out of that, it's Canopian doctors."
 
 Left unsaid was that it'd be a political move on my part. It might not be something worthy of getting a Girin patent, but it could endear me to the enormously powerful medicine and biotech sector, and assist in getting allies outside of the Landynski bubble. Maybe even catch the Magestrix's attention.
 
I quirked a smile to myself. As if the newly-named Star Lord Class JumpShip Walter Benjamin and the rapidly-expanded CMC weren't going to do just that.
 
The retros' burn cut off, positioning the container of death for its long fall into the winds of the brown dwarf.
 
"Well," said Natan to Spuds, "you were worried about Lostech hunting before. How do you feel about it now, Su?"
 
She gave him a smile. "Well, it did involve less screaming than I imagined."
 
He waggled his eyebrows. "With a bunch of great toys."
 
"And a nuclear booby trap," she pointed out, sounding the alarm for gravity shift in prep for our transfer to the Hida.
 
"A dud one, sure." he laughed.
 
I shook my head and headed for the exit, leaving them to the flirting that was inevitably going to follow. The lights flashed and Spuds brought up the belly transfer drive slowly, allowing me to transfer from floating to a series of gliding steps as I went to check on the hangar bays.
 
For the first time since I had seen the Queen Anne, she had full bays. Of course, she held Terri's F-90 and Cliffhanger's Corsair, just as she had when we had jumped in. Those two had been joined by my fighter form Shrike, which I had named Pursuer, along with a Sabre with a similar Null Sig system that Socks had claimed. The last two bays held my Samurai and a Spad.
 
The sight brought a smile to my face. I could see things finally taking shape. By the time we got back, a further wave of Southwesterners should have landed, ready to bulk out our roster, and we could make CMC a reality. And it looked like my father's old people were following Stephanie's lead in trusting me over my siblings. I'd have a real power base to work with.
 
Life was good.
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===Confiding to ones' Wife===
Dropship Queen Anne, Planetary Transfer Burn
Canopus System, Magistracy of Canopus
3rd June, 3015
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Socks moaned as I supported him over the bowl.
 
The news from Regulus was bad, and my friend had decided to indulge in the time-honored tradition of using alcohol to not think about it. Unfortunately, he had overdone things a bit. I had no doubt that he'd be nursing an awful hangover the next day, but right now, he was doing his best to not fall and split his skull on the head's unpadded rim, and horking up less and less with each heave.
 
I sympathized. Apparently, I had read Janos's mind on his contingencies for Regulus turning coats. If anything, it had happened so fast that he had elements prepared in advance. Between home-grown Janos loyalists, Cameron-Jones supporters, SAFE and Eagle Corps fuckery, the whole damn Principality had turned into a hotbed of guerilla war.
 
Anton had shifted forces to try and stabilize matters, making speeches about the need for unity and not to destroy what we were fighting over. Which was a bit rich coming from the guy who had started the whole damn thing, but he sounded sincere enough.
 
It was too bad he had chosen some of the Dragoons as 'stabilization troops'. Sure, they were available as they made their way towards a jump-off point to threaten Atreus, but they were foreigners and one of the symbols of Anton's power.
A pair of Dragoon lights had been shattered by bomb speedboats while their lance was on coastal patrol. It was a tactic I remembered reading about from the civilian resistance on New Olympia. Unfortunately, the other two Dragoons 'mechs had exited depths that the boats could navigate, and slaughtered the rest of the attack group.
 
And then they went and razed the town the boats had come from.
 
The news had spread like wildfire. Anton was demanding the responsible Dragoons to stand trial, Wolf was denying it as a false flag, Regulan civilians were rumbling in anger, and the Emergency Military Stability Council was cracking down.
 
Which had led to protests in Regulus City. The Council's troops hadn't slaughtered the protesters, but video had gone out of them kettling protesters on the banks of the Brahma River, and more than a few people falling in.
 
Socks had recognized his family's neighborhood at a glance.
 
Hence the drinking.
 
His back made another violent heave, but nothing more than spittle came up.
 
"I think you might have gotten it all up, buddy." I said gently.
 
He moaned incoherently, and sagged against the bulkhead.
 
"I can get him to his rack, sir." offered one of my astechs.
I nodded gratefully. "Make sure there's a bowl, just in case."
 
"Will do, sir." The astech, a burly man who was one of Jai's unofficial squad leaders for anti-boarding ops lifted Socks to his feet and carted him out the door.
 
I sighed and flushed the head, before washing my hands of the spatter I had caught. Walking out to the pilot ready room, I flopped into a chair and powered on my noteputer, bringing up other news from the sheets across the League.
 
Things didn't get much better. The Regulan Insurgency might have slowed Anton's momentum, but the fighting in and around it was bloody enough that neither side could make any grand moves, simply limited to raid and counter raid. Unfortunately for Janos's side, that ended up favoring Anton's mercenary forces.
 
The blood and treasure being spent for a delaying action was dear enough that Janos was facing more and more criticism in Parliament, which was only leading him to go further and further hardline, a self-reinforcing cycle. It made me awfully sympathetic to Zelko's opinion that Janos was a tyrant.
 
Perhaps the biggest surprise was that Humphreys still hadn't pulled the trigger on announcing succession. But I supposed it didn't make much sense from her position to commit. There was plenty she could do to improve her position while still technically a member of the League.
 
Other than that, it was more rumbling at the borders as the pirate nations pressed their luck and Katrina Steiner shifted forces to threaten the border worlds. Whether she was intending to make gains at the border, or simply to pin down forces Janos might want to call on was unclear, but it was doing the Captain-General no favors.
 
I made a note to request news on movements around the Trinity. It might drive my anxiety up a wall, but I had to know what was happening in my home space. Maybe we'd even be ready in time to stop things.
 
I snorted to myself. That hadn't been much of my experience here in the Inner Sphere. More like I could start things spiraling down the wrong path, then do dick all to even arrest the slide into madness.
 
"You're brooding." said Diane.
 
I looked up to see my wife standing above me. "You're right," I said, gesturing to a chair next to me. "I didn't even notice you come in."
 
"Is the news that bad?" she asked. "I saw, Socks."
 
I raised an eyebrow. "You haven't read it?"
 
She shook her head. "Been too busy reading the manuals for the new kit."
 
"That," I said, "would probably be far more pleasant than this." I shook the noteputer. "Yeah, it's bad, Vixen. It's really bad."
 
"So, no new news then," she said, cocking her head to the side.
 
I sighed. "It's the same trajectory, at least. Worse and worse."
 
"Sounds like we might get the chance to get back in on the war, huh? Silver linings."
 
I gave her a rueful smile. "Can't say it cheers me up too much," I said. "I'd much rather it all be over."
 
"Duster," she said. "It's never over. That's why our profession exists. If it's not a civil war, it's a border struggle. If it's not a border struggle, it's a pair of hacked-off nobles having a slap fight. If it's not nobles, its pirates. If not pirates, corporations. Peace was never in the cards. It hasn't been for a long time."
 
I frowned. "I know. Forgive me if I don't find that a satisfying answer."
 
Vixen chuckled. "I didn't realize I had married a Cameron."
 
"Fuck the Camerons," I spat with venom that surprised even myself. "If there's one family responsible…maybe the McKennas." I tossed the noteputer on the table.
 
"Amaris?" suggested Vixen.
 
I shook my head. "Symptom more than the cause. But yes, may that imperialistic cancer rot unlamented."
 
My wife gave me an odd look. "What's eating at you, Gideon?"
 
I tried to wave it off. "I'll sound crazy."
 
"Too late." she said, without any real malice. "Come on. Your wife, remember? You're supposed to able to confide in me."
 
I sighed again and turned to look at her, to remind her that we had gotten married out of convenience…and was stopped dead by the look of sincerity on her face. "I…" I got out before freezing.
 
She placed a gentle hand on my cheek. "Gideon," she said softly. "I know we didn't come here from anything we might have expected or necessarily wanted, but I did mean it when I said I'd marry you. I'm committed, remember?"
 
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pricking of tears, and gave a jerky nod. My hand came up to squeeze hers as I took three deep breaths. It was a different feeling than with Terri, and it was something I needed at that moment very badly. "Okay," I breathed. "Okay, Diane." I looked back up at her. "I wasn't kidding," I said. "I will sound like I should be institutionalized."
 
She gave my hand a squeeze. "Committed."
 
I quirked a fraction of a smile. "That too."
 
She snorted. "You know what I mean."
 
I nodded. "I do. I need your promise that you won't tell anybody about this."
 
"Of course," she said, without hesitation.
 
"I mean it," I said. "Not Candy, not Socks, not Nat. Not even Terri."
 
She nodded slowly. "No one. I swear."
 
"Okay." I stood up and sealed the hatch with my access codes, then set the mechanical dogs as well. Was I really going to do this? I looked back to Vixen, at her concern at my precautions, at her sincerity.
 
Yes. I was.
 
I sat back down. "Last chance." I said.
 
"I'm not changing my mind." she said.
 
"This," I said, tapping on the noteputer. "This news is my fault."
Diane gave me a confused look. "I don't see how it could be."
 
"It's…complicated." I sat back and crossed my arms. "After I was bounced from LMS, I ended up sending a message to the Wolf's Dragoons."
 
"Okay," said Diane. "I'm not sure why you did that or what it has to do with the civil war. Were you taunting them?"
 
I shook my head. "I was trying to put them on guard, actually."
 
"Well, I'm confused," she said. "I thought you were a Janos supporter."
 
"I fought for his forces," I said. "Supporter is a strong word, especially after getting cashiered, but that doesn't have anything to do with it."
 
"So, what does?" said Vixen, laying her hand on my knee.
 
"Remember when we met?" I asked.
 
She chuckled. "Better than you do, I'll bet. You were deep in the Weed."
 
I felt a flush color my cheeks. "That's…unfortunately true. I barely remember that night." I rolled my eyes and put on a 'stuffy Lyran' voice. "So, Colonel, how did you and your wife meet?" I smiled as Vixen suppressed giggles, swapping to my deep drawl. "Well shit, sir, couldn't rightly tell ya. I was a minimum of three sheets to the wind. About all I remember is getting in a brawl cause some mentally deficient Mechwarrior decided to start singing Jerimiah Weed as Triple PPC, instead of the way the Lord intended. Ya'd have to ask my better half." I shook my head and returned to my natural voice. "That'd be a fun conversation."
 
Diane lost the battle with her giggles. "You don't remember me making passes at you at all, do you?"
 
"You were?" I asked. I had wondered where Vixen's offer to marry me had come from.
 
"Oh yeah." She squeezed my knee. "Pretty blatantly too."
 
I pinched the bridge of my nose, wincing. "And now I feel like an asshole."
 
She shook her head and smiled. "I knocked it off after you started getting maudlin about your troubles with Terri."
 
The wince got worse. "Drunk Gid is a dick."
 
"He's got a cute ass, though." She gave me a gentle shove. "I forgive you."
 
I squeezed her hand in thanks, looking back at her. "Did everyone know this?" I said with a helpless look.
 
"What, that I wanted some ribeye like Terri wanted a t-bone?" asked Vixen with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. "I didn't keep it secret or anything."
 
I groaned. "I'm gonna murder, Socks. He's supposed to warn me about this kind of stuff."
 
"The guy who's still holding out hope he can turn Spuds around on him?" asked Diane. "You might be setting the wrong person to the job."
 
"Point," I said. "Very fair point."
 
"Just so there's no misunderstandings," said Diane, mock formally, "your wife has enjoyed the depraved things she gets up to with you and your lover, and would like to continue them for the foreseeable future. You know, on top of that whole, 'wife, committed' thing."
 
I kissed her.
 
"So noted," I whispered against her lips as we drew apart some time later.
 
She shifted in my lap, to which she had migrated, drawing her red locks over one shoulder. "You were asking me about when we met," she prompted.
 
I nodded. "I didn't mean it quite like that. More how the war was going."
 
"Pretty poorly for Anton," she said. "It's why we took the escort contract. You were right about Canopus looking like greener pastures. Up until the Valentine's Day Surprise."
 
I nodded grimly. "The Highlanders weren't supposed to join Anton."
 
"I imagine the loyalists feel that way, yes," said Vixen, then shrugged. "That's war though. Everyone knew Anton had Liao backing. It was always a possibility."
 
I shook my head. "I mean, that never should have happened. Anton was supposed to ask for more forces, and El Diablo was supposed to tell him to take a hike."
 
"Like it was planned?" she asked. "No, there's no way you would know…" She paused. "Gideon, are you a time traveler?"
 
I blinked. "What? Why would you think that? How?"
 
She poked my chest. "You're talking about how things were supposed to be. Anyone who's met you knows you'd make a terrible spy. So, you've got knowledge from somewhere. And jump drives can do spooky shit. Did you misjump to the past?"
 
I thought about it for long seconds. It was a vaguely plausible explanation for using what I knew. It didn't fit the facts entirely. It would save the awkward conversation about fictionality…but Diane deserved better.
 
"No," I said. "I'm not a time traveler. Not like you're thinking. But, I do know how history was supposed to go."
 
"So how was that?" she asked, leaving the subject of what I was to the side.
 
"Max Liao was supposed to pull support from Anton, like I said." I spread my hand. "With that hope of reinforcement cut off, Anton would go into despair. Pretty much all the neutral provinces would finally declare for Janos."
 
"That happened...." said Vixen. "Kind of, anyway."
 
I nodded. "I may be transposing the order a bit. But no Highlanders to make the logistics raids, that's key."
 
"Right."
 
"Anyway, Anton knew that the Dragoons were his best troops, and that the rebellion pretty much relied on them. But Wolf's no fool. He knows the rebellion is doomed at this point, and his contract is almost up. He's looking to withdraw with as much of his forces intact as he can."
 
Vixen nodded. "Makes sense. I'd probably be trying to do the same thing. I assume that Anton would know that, though. It's pretty standard."
 
I nodded back. "He did. Anton planned to split the Dragoons up into penny-packets and attach them to his remaining units to stiffen them. Unfortunately…"
 
"He doesn't have command rights, does he?" asked Diane.
 
"Right," I said. "So, Wolf shut that down and gave an alternate plan. Pretty much the raiding the Highlanders are doing now. Anton agrees, but he's pissed, and figures the Dragoons are going to break contract and run. This happens February 26th, by the way. On March 6th, Anton arrests the Dragoon liaison staff and their dependents. He threatens to kill them if Wolf doesn't follow his plan."
 
Vixen winced. "Fucking nobles."
 
"On March 14th, Anton kills them. Twenty-seven people, including Wolf's brother, wife, and two daughters."
 
"Wolf's married?" asked Diane. "He has daughters?"
 
I nodded. "He's got a son too. Apparently, he's undergoing treatment in the FedSuns. Speech impediment." I clicked my tongue a few times as I thought. "He remarries too. Two more kids, I think. Not the point. The point is, the Dragoons come for revenge, and they kill the damn planet. New Delos ceases to exist as a meaningful entity after they're done with it. And of course, they kill Anton Marik. There's some mop-up, but the rebellion dies with Anton. It's officially over in May 3015, though the treason trials run for another four months. Janos ends up hiring the Dragoons as a sort of goodwill gesture, then ends up pitching them at Hesperus."
 
"Well, that's grim," said my wife. "But it's June now. You mean to tell me that one little message to the Dragoons changed all that?"
 
I gave her a sick grin. "I told you I'd sound crazy."
 
"You did warn me." she acknowledged. "So, your message?"
"Was an indirect warning that Anton would pull that kind of crap, and that Janos might be interested in hiring them. I seeded it with enough little details that no one outside the Dragoons should know that I figured they might get on their guard. Maybe not feel the need to kill a planet if there wasn't anything to avenge. If I was really lucky, end the war early."
 
Diane nodded. "Okay, I'm still with you. That makes sense. But…"
 
"How did everything go wrong?" I finished. "That has to do with why the rebellion started."
 
"Why does Janos being a tyrant have anything to do with that?"
 
I shook my head. "Anton was hacked off that Janos executed a friend of his, but that's not why. The rebellion started because the eagle was doing too well."
 
I watched confusion and disbelief chase itself across my wife's face. "What?" She shook her head. "You're going to have to explain that one, Duster."
 
I sighed. "Prior to the war, the eagle (currency) was on the rise in strength. We were threatening the kroner and even the C-bill in value. Some assholes got it in their heads that meant the League was doing too well. So, they decided to change that. Couldn't let the status quo get shaken up."
 
"Are you telling me the Lyrans are behind this? We were doing too well economically, so they kneecapped us?"
 
I shook my head. "No. I'm talking about Comstar."
 
"The robes?" She considered it for a moment, pursing her lips. "Makes sense," she said. "It's not like they didn't get into it with the League back during the Second." She gave me a smile at my surprised look. "I do remember my history, Gideon."
 
"Fair. Anyway, yeah, Comstar. They think that if the wars keep going, tech will collapse, and then everyone will follow their guiding light."
 
"Can't say it feels like they're far wrong," said Diane.
 
"They've been putting their thumb on the scales," I said. "But the Succession Wars aren't helping anything. It's not like they had to work hard to stir the pot here."
 
"So, Comstar helped along a rebellion to weaken the League," said Vixen. "Tracking."
 
"There's a second wrinkle," I said. "They're also real interested in Wolf's Dragoons. They want to figure out what's up with them."
 
"I suppose if they're really descended from the SLDF, they might have tech that might keep the Sphere from collapsing."
 
I tapped her on the nose. "Yup. So Comstar is running an intel game to try and figure out where they're from. The war is a case of two birds with one stone. One of Anton's top advisors is a Comstar spy, stage managing things."
 
"You think he intercepted your message?" she asked, to which I nodded. "And then what?"
 
"I think I got him to reconsider his plan. He was initially planning to interrogate the hostages, especially Wolf's brother. So the war was supposed to weaken the Dragoons enough to make them go on a resupply run, where they could be followed."
 
"A longer war would hurt the Dragoons more," she said. "Even more with them swearing bloody vengeance against Janos."
 
I nodded. "Exactly my thinking." I said, excitedly.
 
"Do you think he used the bombing to snatch a few Dragoons quietly?" she asked. "It'd be real easy to provide some unidentifiable corpses."
 
My face fell. I hadn't thought of that. "That would make sense," I said slowly. "Damn, what will they do with that?"
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"The Dragoons are spies for what the SLDF mutated into." I explained offhandedly, trying to parse what Comstar knowing about the Clans for certain would mean.
 
"What?" Vixen yelped, grabbing my face to turn me to her. "Explain that."
 
I blinked, coming back to the fact that my wife was not a new Battletech fan I was talking to, but an actual citizen of the Inner Sphere. There were things that I took as read that were going to be shocking news to her. "Right, sorry. Kerensky's exodus fleet settled some Coreward worlds, then pretty much at the same time as the First Succession War, things went bad there too. Kerensky's son led a second exodus, completely reworked their society, because of course any trace of the Inner Sphere had to be burnt away, and then reconquered the original worlds."
 
My wife looked pollaxed. "I'm glad I'm not a One Starry," she muttered. "Why are they here?"
 
"Kerensky had a rebellion during the exodus too," I explained. "When he put it down, he made a speech about preserving the qualities of the Star League and some point in the future, returning it to the Inner Sphere. That ended up baked into the ideology of what they became. The Clans, by the way."
 
"Didn't they get rid of everything from before?" she asked, with an annoyed look.
 
"Not if Kerensky said it," I said with a shrug. "His writings and speeches are practically religious texts to them. and they've got a schism. One group thinks they should defend the Inner Sphere from external enemies. The other thinks they should restart the Star League by force. Both think that their society is the pinnacle of human development, and if we'd only see how they do things, we'd obviously agree." My expression told Diane what I thought of that.
 
"Lovely. So, the invaders are in charge then?"
 
I shook my head. "Crusaders, and no. The Dragoons are a compromise. A scouting force to see if the Clans need to invade, and if they can."
 
"Can they?" asked Diane.
 
I clicked my tongue. "Arguable. They're strategic incompetents, and their logistic situation is piss poor, but they're really good warrior. Their tech is better than what we just found. They're supposed to invade sometime near 3050."
 
"God," said my wife. "What a nightmare." She shook her head and kissed me. "And here I expected to have a talk about how you need to accept that there's limits to how much you can do on a stage as big as the Sphere."
 
I gave her a helpless look. "I told you I was going to sound crazy."
 
"You did," she acknowledged. "And I have no idea how you're supposed to know all this if you're not a time traveler or something."
 
"Or something is closer," I said. "Anyway, if I hadn't sent that fucking note, the whole damn war would be over by now."
"That's not your fault." she said, sounding offended.
 
"Of course it is," I said. "It's a difference that I can absolutely track. I did it, and the war went pear-shaped."
 
"Gideon," she said. "You tried to keep a world alive. You did something good."
 
I gestured at the universe outside the ready room, mutely.
 
"No," she said. "I mean it. You didn't arrange for the Highlanders to help Anton. Or for the Regulans to throw in with him. You didn't start this war. The Comstar agent did, right?"
 
I nodded slowly, unwillingly. "I still set it off."
 
"A snowflake doesn't cause an avalanche," she said. "You tried to do the right thing."
 
"Maybe," I grunted. I didn't have the bandwidth for thinking about forgiving myself. "Ready to have me committed?"
 
She shook her head. "No."
 
"Why not?" I asked. "Lord knows I sound certifiable."
 
She ticked the points off on her fingers. "Well, even if Terri didn't kill me for it, not to mention Socks and Cliffhanger, you've got all the Southwesterners that would take your side over mine in a heartbeat. The Contessa likes you but doesn't really care about me. And I just promised you that you could confide in me as your wife, remember?" She stroked my cheek. "Besides," she said. "I think I believe you. Or at least that you believe what you're saying."
 
"That's not really worth much," I argued. "Delusions may be sincerely held, but that doesn't make them true. You could make an argument for me exhibiting schizoaffective disorder, though without a copy of the DSM, I can't be sure if I qualify. Doubly so if I am psychotic."
 
"You sound like a headshrinker, dear." she said. "You do that sometimes. What, do you have multiple personality disorder?"
 
"Dissociative identity disorder," I corrected. "And I can't say I'm convinced by the evidence for that particular disorder." I sighed. "I'm about to sound even crazier."
 
"We're down the rabbit hole already, honey," said Vixen. "Go on."
----
===Lifting of Burden of self-Guilt===
Dropship Raoul Wallenberg, Deep Space
Unnamed T8 Brown Dwarf Orbit
Magistracy of Canopus
31st May 3015
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I told her everything. How I had woken up in Gid's body, how I knew Battletech as a fictional setting, how I was a man in my thirties with psychology training and a twenty year old fighter pilot at the same time. I told her of the mess with Liszt and my passing fancy that maybe I had just scrambled my brain with his haunted neurohelmet.
 
"So yeah," I said, spreading my hands. "Crazy, like I said."
 
"What's your name?" she asked quietly.
 
I shrugged. "Gid. Gideon. I can't remember what else I was called. It might have been my name before." I cocked my head to the side. "If there was a before," I amended.
 
"And you haven't told Terri this?"
 
I shook my head. "When I woke up in this," I gestured to my body, "I essentially killed the man she loved."
 
"But you love her." Diane wasn't asking a question.
 
"Of course I do," I said. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm not the Gid she fell for. She's noticed my strangeness, like you."
 
"So why not tell her?" she asked.
 
"What?" I said. "Hey Terri, sorry to tell you, but the guy you've been sleeping with body snatched your boyfriend. Also, I'm responsible for the terrible state of the League and Janos losing a war he's supposed to win. Sorry about your dad's political career! Oh, and just to put a cherry on top, I know how history's supposed to go because I read it as fiction for a beer and pretzels wargame!" I scoffed. "If she didn't shoot me for what I did to Gideon and her, she'd find a way to get me in an asylum."
 
"First," said Vixen. "This war is not your fault, remember?"
 
I grunted.
 
"Second," she said. "I'm hearing you out, aren't I? Even if I am fictional."
 
"Nothing about this is fictional," I said, vehemently. "It's all real. It just matches to fiction I've read."
 
"Speaking of that," she said. "Why are you so sure that things match up? Couldn't this just be a universe that's similar? Maybe this was the way the war was always supposed to go here."
I shook my head. "Everything matched up too cleanly up until I fucked things up. Besides," I said. "There's you."
 
"Me?" she asked. "What do I have to do with it?"
 
"In the unit write-ups, they had blurbs for notable pilots," I said, nodding to her. "You were one of them for the Cheetah. In 3025, you would have been commanding a unit of six Cheetahs and six Sabres."
 
"Oh." she said.
 
"It's how I recognized you," I said. "When we met on Aitutaki Station. They wrote about your swashbuckler outfit. It's why I worked to get you to come down to Canopus with us. You also showed up in a 3039 write-up talking about your tactics."
 
She blinked, the meaning of my words sinking in. "I was still flying in 3039?"
I nodded. "You're damn good, Vixen. The other pilot from 3025 didn't get a second write-up." I frowned. "But I got selfish, and Crossbones paid the price."
 
Anger flashed across her face. "You saved Crossbones!" she snapped.
 
"Two squadrons, Diane," I argued. "If you hadn't taken the Resande job…"
 
"Of Cheetahs and Sabres," she said. "No Centurions. I was going to take losses, Gideon. You didn't do that. Who knows what she had to do to get those squadrons?"
 
"I bought your squadron out from under you." I said.
 
"And now I'm a Coyote and your wife," she said. "Gideon. Gid." She paused and looked me deep in the eyes. "You can't control everything. You can't see everything that's going to happen. You just do what you can. Even if you know how things are supposed to be, you're not a god."
 
"I know I'm not!" I exploded. "Of course I'm not! I've fucked up everything, God wouldn't do that."
 
"First, no you didn't. Second, He hasn't done a great job with the Inner Sphere if you hadn't noticed." She didn't yell at me, just kept staring me in the eyes.
 
I bit back an angry rejoinder about the state of the Inner Sphere being the fault of Jordan Weisman and his line devs. I had just said that this world was real, even if it matched fiction. "Why won't you let me take responsibility?" I whispered, deflating.
 
"Because it isn't your fault, Gid." She placed a finger to my lips as I tried to deny her. "Ah-ah! No. You sent a message to try and make things better. You tried to recruit a skilled unit. That's all you did." She took her finger away from my lips. I didn't interrupt her. "Anything after that? Someone else's choice." She tapped her breastbone. "I decided to follow up on the Canopus job. I decided to take the Resande job. I," her voice caught, "wasn't a good enough pilot and leader to save Crossbones. Me."
 
And just like that, it clicked. "Oh," I said, feeling like Jai had punched me in the gut. "Oh. I'm sorry, Diane."
 
She gave me a sad smile. "Do you get it?"
 
I nodded, slowly. "I'm acting like I'm the only one with any agency. Like other people are clockwork automatons. Disrespectful…Lord, I'm sorry, Di. You deserve better."
 
She kissed me. I could taste the tears on her lips. "I've been there too," she whispered, holding me to her. "Treating people like supporting characters in my life." She gave a rueful chuckle. "I suppose that means something different to you though, huh?"
 
"Mmm," I mused. "I think looking at it like that is part of the problem." I separated from her so I could look her in the eyes. "I promise…" The words caught in my throat. I couldn't honestly say I would never do it again. "I promise I'll work on it. That I'll try my hardest to not do this again." I blew out a breath. "And you're a hell of a pilot and leader. Crossbones was pinned down to an objective, and you were jumped by a heavier force. If it wasn't for you, I don't know that anyone would have gotten out of there. Cold comfort, I know, but…"
 
Her grip tightened on me. "It helps to hear."
 
"How long were you carrying that around…no, stupid question." I shook my head. "Sorry."
 
"Since I woke up after the battle, yeah. Haven't been able to talk about it. CO and all. And then there were other things to take care of, and it became a habit."
 
I nodded. "I know I've not been much help at all, but in the future, or right now, I'm here to listen."
 
"Thank you, Gid. And working on things did help. So did keeping Crossbones alive. And having it out, at least between us…that means the damn world." She lay against my chest.
 
We sat in silence for long moments, breathing together, feeling each other's pulses.
 
"What about my delusions?" I asked, breaking the silence.
 
"I don't care," she said. "Maybe something strange happened. Some weird hyperspace accident. Maybe it happened on your way to New Olympia from Cerillos and got knocked loose by that haunted neurohelmet. Maybe the robes in Darienbad fucked up. Maybe magic happened. Hell, maybe you are crazy. It doesn't matter." She poked me in the chest. "I like that you're thoughtful. I like that you're a shit hot pilot. I like that you enjoy swordplay too. I like that you're funny. I like that you care, even though I know it's going to hurt you. I like that you rescued my dream when I was ready to give it up. I like that you're kind. I like that you've got a great ass. I like that you try. Universe jumper, madman?" She shrugged. "That doesn't matter so much as someone who wants to help support me, and can when he puts his mind to it." She kissed me again. "I had reasons for saying yes to marrying you, and they're all still true, Gid. Things are just a bit more complicated now." She shrugged. "It's not like they were simple before."
 
I swallowed a heavy feeling in my throat. "I don't deserve you." I said.
 
"Fuck deserve!" she said. "I made this choice."
 
I nodded. "And you have agency." I smiled. "You'd make a good therapist."
 
"A merc CO's got to be a lot of things," she said. "Something to keep in mind."
 
Again, I nodded. "Maybe even a little crazy." I joked.
 
"Oh, obviously." she said. "Have you seen the margins in this business?" She shook her head. "You should really think about telling Terri."
 
My throat tightened. "I…I can't. Not yet, anyway. I can't…" I gestured at myself without any clear purpose. "can't find the strength for it."
 
"You did with me." she said, gently.
 
"You and Terri are very different women, Di." I pointed out, not getting into the ugly truth that we all knew, that Terri was first in my eyes. "You didn't know me before."
 
She sighed but nodded. "That's true, I suppose. We'll work on it, okay? Like my dad always said, love isn't enough. You've got to work on your relationships." She kissed my hand. "So what can you tell me about your life before this year? I know you've got gaps in your memory but…I'd like to know."
 
I took a deep breath and talked for hours. About my dogs. About teaching. About friends I'd never see again. About genres long dead, and art long lost. About the wonders of Earth that I had seen. About my partner, and how I had wanted to marry them. About politics and family, and food I'd never eat again. About how I'd not made the time for thinking about it all, and how my mind hadn't even considered that I might be able to go back. How I had no idea why and what I was supposed to do with this maddening situation.
 
At the end, I felt lighter.
 
And then I asked about Les Halles.
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*;Notes from the Author : This was both a tough and interesting chapter to write. The cat's out of the bag, at least to one person, along with some developments on the wider stage of the Sphere.
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