Integrating armed forces within the Storm League is a more significant challenge than the Consortium Armed Forces had ever faced. In the past, each member state contributed forces, equipped them, and gave them orders based on the doctrines of their own nation. This continued somewhat until the end of the Sidhe War. During the war, nations still equipped their own forces but were placed under a central command. This was coordinated by Mechanon, whose Network was instrumental in battlefield coordination. Although ultimately successful, this hodgepodge mixture of forces led to issues with logistics and discipline between the forces of different nations.
Now that peace has been declared, a new integration policy aims to relieve this. As the Storm League now has its own standing forces for rapid deployment, soldiers from different nations and realities will be temporarily removed from their commands and placed under the Storm League. Leadership will be from all member states and Realities, and the rank and file will join the Storm League’s armed forces in the future, not their respective nations. Equipment will be standardized by the League, from uniforms to weaponry. It will include the best that all nations can supply, especially for the Rapid Response Teams that are the spear’s point.
The codes of conduct will be standardized. This includes all regulations. Soldiers will have to refamiliarize themselves with this as their member nations’ rules may differ. According to these rules, misconduct will be dealt with by the Storm League itself and its own judicial system. Usually, a short jail term will be enough for the soldier guilty of infractions before they are returned to their units. Soldiers guilty of gross misconduct may be repatriated to their own nations after serving their sentences in prison.
Integration of Storm League Forces
Comparative Scenarios and Recommendations
Executive Summary
A project implemented by
Storm League Military Subcommittee
Mechanon Scientific Community
Federacy Military Relations for Other Realities
GmbH Security Forces Office
2183 ESC
Sattelrücken Storm League Joint Forces Base
General Staff Offices
December 21st , 2188 ESC
Four officers sat together watching drone footage from the recent debacle on Edelweiss. Three men and one woman were around a table watching the footage on a large vid screen. A nearby holographic map showed the city of Teerstadt and the docks on the mud flats. They occasionally touched the map to change the view on the vid.
“Three billion marks gone. Happy fucking Yuletide,” Major Sebastian Koprowski said. The human man was short and stocky, pale skin with a brown buzz cut. His typical Slavic looks made him stand out from the other three. “The oil terminal was one thing, but twenty sky tankers were also damaged beyond repair. This is a disaster.”
The woman shrugged, “Mechanon has already sent automated drones to repair the facilities, and the sky tankers were insured. Moreover, they were independent contractors, so that’s not our expense.” Lieutenant Colonel Kaja Játgeirsdóttir’s pale skin, blonde hair, and green eyes marked her of Scandinavian descent. “Still, this is a black eye for the League.”
A rumble came from the ranking officer in the room. “Who would have thought that the Sidhe still were active in anything but petty theft and the occasional murder?” Brigadier General Koulagna Kamba replied. He touched the map, and the vid screen changed the view to the men and women scurrying between the terminals and at the bottom of skyships planting bombs. He was large and thick-bodied, with a buzzcut and mahogany skin. His uniform looked like it barely contained his muscular body, and scars crisscrossed his face.
The fourth man sat there, oscillating between outrage and fear as each thing was pointed out. He was now in his mid-thirties, with very dark skin and close-cropped black hair atop a more filled-out face. Staff Captain Natnael Hollis had received the promotion he wanted, but now he was in charge of this mess. Edelweiss was part of his command, as were the mechanics that had been sent there.
“Things could have been worse. Unfortunately, we’ve been lax in our security against technological threats,” Játgeirsdóttir replied. “As a result, we lost a gunship and a drone repair center.” She paused and took a sip of water. “Now, five soldiers and over one hundred civilians won’t be going home to see their families. All because we became lax in our technological superiority over our defeated enemies. We no longer teach data security in OCS because we haven’t fought anyone like that for over eighty years.”
Koprowski shook his head, “No, it was because Hollis had an incompetent subordinate in 2nd Lieutenant el-Siddiqui and allowed a mentally unstable Mechanese loose upon that world.” The profiles of three soldiers popped up on the screen, the aforementioned pair, and 1st Corporal del Valle. “Even a child knows how to unplug a computer when it’s being hacked,” he said and shook his head at Hollis, who looked rather pale at the moment. “And how could you have let a mentally unstable soldier loose in that situation?” he said, looking pointedly at Hollis.
“I was assured she was fixed by the best psionic doctor on NewHome,” Hollis replied. “I was told that she wasn’t crazy, just that she had psionic talents that were causing her stress. They locked them down so they wouldn’t do that to her anymore.” Then, he swallowed, “She was cleared to return to duty.”
“Those abbos?!” Koprowski scoffed. “They can’t even figure out how to make a Gate independently, and they still use hydrogen and gas-burning vehicles.”
“Those ‘abbos’ also are host to an interstellar species with computer technology that far outpaces our homegrown tech. They also have the best psionic technology we’ve ever seen in any Reality,” Kamba rumbled, making Koprowski close his mouth. “Just because they haven’t developed a Gate doesn’t mean they’re stupid. One day we could run across a Reality smarter and meaner than us.” He sighed, “The Federacy fits the bill, but they’ve been satisfied now that we’ve given them coordinates to empty habitable Realities they can colonize. Of course, they’re unwilling to pull out of their beachhead on Devonal, but that’s their stubborn pride.”
He coughed and shrugged. “About a tenth of the oil we sell goes to NewHome. They are our second largest buyer other than Erde. This brings us back to our issue.” Kamba pulled footage of the Sidhe dropping bombs and supplies to rush back to a smaller skyship. “It appears that the actions of our two enlisted stopped them from doing greater damage than they had planned. They abandoned their supplies and went to rescue their distraction team.”
Recorded footage came up on the screen of the Mechanese woman leaping around a street and killing mind-controlled animals and Sidhe agents here and there. Hollis blanched at the display of carnage while the other three looked at it impassively.
“If she had just left well enough alone,” Koprowski growled.
“We would have lost the entire port,” Játgeirsdóttir interrupted. “The soldier they captured broke under psionic interrogation. We now know they had actually planned on destroying the entire oil facility.”
“But, she needed to get permission to engage!” he sputtered in return. “All my Mechanese soldiers follow orders. They’re like robots.”
She shrugged, “You have males, Major. And you should see them when they’re off duty. They are just like any other soldier. The females are much more independent, and this one in particular… But, unfortunately, we don’t have any others to compare her to. Last of her Legion and all that.”
Hollis raised his hand, and Kamba nodded for him to speak. “Can we just extradite her back home? That way, she’s no one’s problem except Mechanon’s?”
Játgeirsdóttir gave him a flat look, “We’ve been requested to not do that. In fact, Mechanon is interested in how this all plays out and would like to see one of his defender caste people as a civilian.”
She sighed and changed the screen to the military base where the gunships were berthed, “This brings us to the crux of the problem. First, we had an infowarrior infiltrate our systems and cut the communications for the entire colony. Then they placed malware in the targeting systems of our command structure there, allowing this situation to happen in the first place. We are certain they stole a lot of military data, as they had been in place for weeks before the attack.”
“Have you identified the person or group responsible?” Kamba asked.
“No, Sir,” she replied. “This one’s slippery, and they have apparently been using base code that we’ve never seen before to erase their presences.”
Kamba grunted, “That’ll have to be accounted for in the future. It appears the Sidhe either have allies or have trained one of their own. Get Intelligence on it separately. I don’t want it tied to what we’re about to do.”
Koprowski nodded, “Assign blame and sweep this under the rug. Are we going to hang the Mechanese?”
Hollis blanched at this revelation. This was his responsibility, and it would hit him hard. He could not only be demoted but may be forced to leave the military.
Játgeirsdóttir shook her head, “Nothing so crude, though I know you’d like it.” She looked at the three soldiers, “Personally, I’d love to give bronze crosses and wound markers to both of our enlisted. They both went above the call of duty and saved the situation from devolving further.” She raised her hand at Koprowski’s sputter, and he shut up.
“In fact, I’m going to officially recommend that be the case for del Valle,” Játgeirsdóttir continued. Hollis brightened up a little at that. “But d’Argus will have to bear the brunt of the shit rolling downhill. We’re going to give her to Intelligence to prosecute with the clear understanding we’re not going to bail the Corporal out, and we prefer that she be removed from the military. Just no seeking the death penalty.” Hollis looked more nervous now. “Also, el-Siddiqui will be removed from command and sent to staff to see how proper leadership is conducted.”
Looking at Hollis with contempt, she said, “You’ll keep your rank and be moved to logistics and lose your time in grade for two years. I suggest that we send your former leadership to remedial Infowarefare courses.”
Hollis was about to protest but shut up when he saw the look in Kamba’s eyes. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied weakly.
Játgeirsdóttir turned to Kamba, “Is that acceptable, General?”
He nodded and sighed. “We’ll frame this as an accident for the press. Destroy the footage from inside the warehouse and drones after it’s been copied. Mechanon has been pouring over that intently and doesn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands, and neither do we. Some strange things happened in there. Don’t give it to the Intelligence division for prosecution except for the individual drone footage from before the warehouse. That’ll make them go after her harder,” Kamba replied and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All the shit will fall on her, but Mechanon seems to think she can take it.”
Sattelrücken Storm League Joint Forces Base
General Staff Offices
March 13th, 2189 ESC
“… We find you guilty of willfully disobeying a superior commissioned officer on the first count of dereliction of duty. You are found guilty on the second count of failure to obey an order or regulation by dereliction of duty.” The court reporter, a 2nd Lieutenant, read the charges to the room full of officers and Althea.
The Mechanese woman stood at a small podium at attention. Her eyes were forward and occasionally blinking, stony-faced except for her cat coloring flashing on and off as her heart sank further and further into depression. The last month had been horrible for her. She had been moved to the brig less than an hour after talking to Captain Krsmanovich and received only military rations for food. Tiki was forbidden to visit her, and she had no way to contact the outside world. In addition, her repair functions had stalled at eighty percent.
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She had made her case to a military lawyer who had arrived two days before her trial. But, unfortunately, he hadn’t been of much use, as she was now finding out. There were eleven charges against her, and she was already guilty of the first two. Depending on how long this sentence would be, she might outlive the people sentencing her. Lord Mechanon, I could outlive Tiki before I get out! she thought miserably.
“On the counts of assault, murder, and manslaughter, we find you not guilty,” surprise crept into the court reporter’s voice. “They are deemed as enemy combatants and therefore legal targets.” Captain Krsmanovich’s eye twitched from where she sat on the prosecutorial side, but she said nothing. “On the single count of cruelty, and the single count of maiming, you are not guilty,” he continued. “On the lesser count of misbehavior towards the enemy, you are guilty. Next, you are found guilty of two of the six counts of destruction of property other than military property.” He paused to drink water. “On the single count of loss of military property, you are found guilty of throwing your firearm away. Finally, in the last count of a general article, you are found guilty of bringing shame to the armed forces of the Storm League.”
There was no outward reaction to this news on Althea’s face except her cat coloring had become very pronounced, and her ears had drooped. Internally, Althea was a mess. She would be sending crying and sad emojis to the entire battle net at the moment if she could connect to it, but she still couldn’t even connect to the basic Network. Her implants still needed repairs, she guessed. She started breathing heavily as the blonde Lieutenant Colonel took the microphone.
“Next, we are moving onto sentencing,” Lieutenant Colonel Játgeirsdóttir stated. “The prosecution believes these severe charges should carry at least thirty years of hard labor for you to begin with, 2nd Corporal d’Argus.” She stared at Althea, who looked like she was not reacting at all but was actually starting to panic. “This is on top of a reduction in rank to private and removal of time in grade of three years which essentially reduces you to nothing. Then you would be dishonorably discharged and released back to your home Reality.” Captain Krsmanovich began to smile.
Althea started to shake a little. She would never see Tiki again, which alone would make her depressed beyond measure. Then, returning in disgrace would be the greatest humiliation a defender had ever received. She would be shunned and have to live apart from everyone if she were sent home in that state. She would have to live miserable and alone, like a hermit in the woods.
Játgeirsdóttir paused, looked at the prosecutor, and then at the other two officers in the tribunal. “However that is not what we have decided to do,” she stated.
Captain Krsmanovich blinked in surprise, and her smile left. “But, we…” she started.
“I am speaking, Captain, ” Játgeirsdóttir said tartly. Then, she said to Althea, “In light of your past service and a request from Mechanon itself. You will be sentenced to two years of hard labor at the Kalifornischestadt Military Prison. Afterward, you will be separated from the military and released on Erde. Your rank will remain the same, but you will receive an other than honorable discharge. In addition, you are forbidden from returning to Mechanon for a period of twenty years.” She rang a small bell with a tiny hammer once, indicating the judgment had been finalized.
Althea froze and blinked, staring at the blond woman. “Two years without Tiki? Forbidden from returning? A request from Lord Mechanon?” she whispered. Her head began to hurt, and she started looking rapidly between each person. There was a fuzzy yellow outline around each of them, and she knew she was hyperventilating. She didn’t hear anything else as two large MPs came forward, placed heavy hinge cuffs on her wrists, and attached them to a chain wrapped around her waist. Cuffs were placed on her ankles, and she was led away in a fugue, eyes blurry in tears.
The next few days went by in a blur. Althea’s requests to talk to Ticualtzin were ignored. She thought she had slept and eaten but couldn’t remember doing such things. Then she was on a bus and driven out into the middle of the desert. The intake procedure was remarkably similar to how she was processed when she first joined the League. Her uniforms and personal effects had been shipped in a box, and scents of Ticualtzin wafted out of it. This caused a tumult of feelings and pain inside her that she didn’t know how to deal with.
First, they stripped her and searched her, which she barely noticed. Then, they did a physical examination of her, where she annoyingly noted that she had gained weight and lost strength during her hospital stay. Everything was done with pen and paper or mechanical typewriters. Finally, they asked her if she had any special health requirements. She told them that she needed daily exercise and ration packs from Mechanon. However, the human guard’s way she looked at her told Althea that those might not be forthcoming.
Her hair was cut to shoulder length, the rest of her queue removed. This caused her hair to promptly fluff out and make her look like a puffball. Mugshots were taken of her, which they had to do several times as she kept changing her skin patterning. A wristband ID was given to her next, which she was to present to anyone who asked for it. It said simply, “d’Argus” and had her Storm League service number on it. Lastly, she was given the bare minimum of clothing, all khaki, and labeled with d’Argus. They placed her in a holding cell with only enough room to dress. She had to stick her hands out through a small hole to have her cuffs removed and replaced.
An ogre from Anglio and a Kondarrian took her from the intake and walked her through the prison. There were colored lines on the floor with names of destinations printed in the same color. Also, painted footprints were located at regular intervals in front of cells and inspection areas. Althea noted that the prison was spotless and surmised it was immaculate for the same reason the barracks were. The cells appeared to be open at the moment. Each of them had two bunks bolted into the wall, one above the other. Also visible was a single table and bench for one person bolted to the back wall. Facing away from the open cell door was a toilet with a sink built into the top of it.
Althea was led past these cells to another section. It was reached via an airlock-like area where they had to be buzzed through with guards on the other side. The female guards in the plexiglass-enclosed guardroom stared at her intently. There were computers, but they looked to be very old terminals. She was checked in and assigned a room, and the guards she was with left the way they came in before two others came to retrieve her from the new side. Both were human. She saw that the words Maximum Security were on the door she entered.
Blinking, Althea followed them and saw that this area consisted of a central hallway with doors every three and a half meters, and the air was much more chill here. Scents of fear and agitation of several species reached her over the scents of cleaning products. They walked to the end of the corridor and stopped. The guard said something, but Althea just blinked and nodded dumbly at the unheard words. The next thing she knew, the door was open, and she saw her cell. The door opened onto a vestibule about two meters deep and framed by jail bars. Beyond that was the cell itself, which was two meters wide by three and a half deep, all concrete and steel. A thin mattress was lying upon a concrete slab with a cut-out shelf underneath it for the single pair of shoes she had been given. In addition, there was a small shelf/desk and a concrete pedestal that she supposed was an attempt at a chair next to it. The same toilet/sink combo was there; in the back was a shower with a painted sign saying “Fifteen-Second Timer” in the center.
The room overwhelmingly smelt of the toilet when she entered. At least it had been cleaned recently. The large door of heavy steel bars was opened, and Althea was told to walk in. The bars to her cell shut behind her. They then ordered her to turn around and put her hands through the bars. When she did, they removed the cuffs from her wrists and legs. She came back to herself briefly to ask for a conduct manual.
The two human women shared a look before the one that had taken her cuffs off said, “Sure, we’ll bring it with your evening meal.” The other one had an odd sneer that Althea thought must be contempt. However, they did arrive several hours later with a paper tray with some sort of food ration block on it. It had contrasting tastes and wasn’t well made, but she choked it down and exercised as best she could until lights out.
###
Althea soon settled into a routine. Her mornings consisted of waking up, taking an icy shower, making her bed, and preparing her room. Then being inspected with her hands spread flat against the wall and legs apart on the floor. Next, there was an inadequate morning meal, followed by them cuffing her and taking her out to the yard for ‘exercise.’ She used a light 10-kilo sledgehammer to break rocks while they watched her with stun rifles. There was a sniper on the prison wall that she would occasionally wave to. They had replaced the wooden handles twice before figuring out that she wouldn’t break a steel-handled one. She did this for ten hours a day, with a break for lunch and finally an evening meal back in her cell.
She then took a shower and washed her clothes simultaneously since they only washed them for her twice a week. Althea had gotten embarrassed when the officers searched her cell for contraband ‘apples’ and pointed out that her clothes stank of them. So she had to explain to them that she smelled like that when she didn’t bathe for extended periods. They hadn’t believed her and had requested her not to bathe for two days to confirm this. She had complied but became increasingly agitated and asked if she could bathe every time she saw someone.
Soon afterward, they stopped bringing the weird human prison rations and started to get her regular food and some of her own rations from time to time. It was random, but she noticed they always seemed to look a bit happy? Gleeful? Something weird when they gave them to her. It was clear the way she was handed the Mechanese Nutripaste on the paper plate that they didn’t like the smell one bit.
Each day she asked if she could contact Ticualtzin, and they refused her. Her expressions had wholly disappeared, and even her skin reactions had become more muted as she sank into depression and resignation. Each day was the same except for who would inspect her and take her to the yard. The bar on her repairs had started moving up the more she exercised, and it usually moved more when she had gotten some Nutripaste. She was able to exercise better and felt more like herself as time went on, though there were still scars on the left side of her torso where she had been pierced by the Sidhe agent.
One day Althea woke up and saw her biological readouts in her vision like they used to be. She sat up straight in bed and did a little dance on the cell floor before dropping to do her morning pushups and situps. There was still some damage to her internals, but most of the damage had been repaired. She lacked certain nutrients and minerals that humans just didn’t need that many of, but a Mechanese certainly did. She asked for Mechanese mineral supplements that day, and they looked at her like she was nuts. She checked, but Network connectivity had not been restored. There weren’t even any local wireless signals.
When she returned to her room after another day of making big rocks into little ones, she noticed a letter addressed to her that had Tiki’s scent on it. She made no move to touch the letter and instead went through her normal routine and ate her evening meal in silence. She washed herself and the clothes before picking up the letter and opening it with a fingertip claw. There were stamps all over it indicating x-rays, and scanning revealed it didn’t contain contraband. Then, inhaling Tiki’s scent, she broke down and began crying. All the emotions she had been suppressing came out in those hard, silent tears as she read that Tiki had been searching for her ever since she was removed from her hospital room.
They hadn’t told Tiki anything except Althea was being court-martialed and was not allowed to contact her. Instead, she had been reassigned to another base on the Kanaren Islands in the mid-Atlantic. She was not to discuss the ‘accident’ on Edelweiss under penalty of law. They had also forced a promotion to 2 nd Sergeant and a Bronze cross medal on her, but she refused to wear it. She was not allowed to refuse her promotion either but was not planning on reenlisting with the Storm League when her contract ran out in three years. The letter concluded with Tiki telling Althea how much she loved her and that she hoped she would write back.
Althea read the letter from to back several times, admiring how Tiki had cleaned up her writing into something that approached legibility. Althea checked her internal chronometer against the letter’s date now that her systems were back up. It was sent on July 28th, so roughly a month had passed as it was now August 30th. She placed the note back on the small shelf that regulations allowed her to keep personal effects on. This was her first one. She went to sleep thinking of what she would write back, and words failed her. However, the overwhelming relief she felt now that Tiki had written her, finally let her fall asleep.
The next day Althea was allowed to fill out a form requesting papers for writing and a writing instrument. There was also a space for nutritional supplements. She wrote out the exact amounts of the minerals she needed and the requisition number that Mechanon gave sick defenders. Two weeks later, the paper and pen arrived. The pen was floppy and challenging to write with, and she immediately hated it. Her routine also changed today, and she was taken to the prison infirmary to receive her first vitamin supplements if they were deemed necessary. It was also her first physical exam by the prison physician. The guard waited outside, telling her that she would be stunned if she tried anything funny.
“Where are all the other inmates?” Althea asked the doctor, a female humanocat with calico patterning and black hair. She looked to be another Captain, this time with a nametag of Marcelin.
“Hmm? Well, they’re all over,” Marcelin had answered Althea. She had a slight French accent to her GmbH German. “You’re just being isolated.” She took a vial of Althea’s blood and put it in a machine.
“Isolated, Ma’am?” Althea asked blandly, staring at the floor. “Is that why the guards won’t speak with me, and I am alone in a cell?” The other woman nodded and checked the results of the machine. Althea noted that none of the equipment in this room had any wireless signals coming from them. Except for the test equipment, everything was decidedly analog.
“Yep, it looks like you’re deficient in all these minerals.” She wrote down the needed amounts and blinked as they matched what Althea had already requested. “They’re all deathly afraid of you,” the woman continued quieter as she typed out a request form on an old typewriter.
Althea blinked. She had thought the fear and anger scents from the guards were just everyday things. “I have done nothing wrong,” she protested. Then, Althea’s skin became cat-colored at the doctor’s raised eyebrow. She heard the whine of servo motors as stunners in the ceiling popped out and pointed at her. “Yes, I was convicted of my charges. But since coming here, I have followed the rules in the guidebook to the letter. I have followed all instructions of the guards.” She sighed, “I do not wish to be a problem to anyone.”
The doctor smiled at her and said, “You realize you’re being a problem right now?”
“Now?” Althea said, her voice monotone. Her skin’s patterning turned on and off in the confusion pattern, but her expression stayed the same.
“The skin patterning, it means that you’re ready to attack, does it not?” Doctor Marcelin asked and touched Althea’s face with her pen.
“Oh…” Althea answered. “Not always. It also changes according to my emotional state and if I am under stress. I am saddened that they are frightened of me. I had thought I was being an ideal prisoner.” She raised her shackled hands and scratched her nose gently. “Is that why they have stopped bringing the oddly flavored rations?” she asked quietly.
Marcelin looked at her in confusion, “Oddly flavored rations?”
Nodding, Althea said, “They were shaped like this,” she moved her hands in the shape of a brick, “And they tasted like many things mixed together. I was playing a game where I would guess the flavor.” She shrugged and said, “But then I got my ration packs instead.”
The doctor started looking at the charts and raised an eyebrow. “Rectangular food?” Althea nodded once. “Was it somewhat doughy in consistency?”
“That or dry. It did not seem like they were made the same way twice,” Althea said. She started absently scratching at the hinge cuffs with her nails. “I would not mind if I got them once in a while.” She stopped when she noticed that she had dug a deep furrow in the paint and steel of the cuff and tried to hide it with her fingers as a blush crept across her nose on her otherwise expressionless face.
She blinked. “You miss the punishment loaf?” she asked incredulously.
“It wasn’t much, but it entertained me a little bit,” Althea said.
Marcelin shook her head and said, “You must have an iron stomach, d’Argus.” She paused and then asked more seriously, “Please tell me about your skin patterning? Unfortunately, we don’t know much about Mechanese. Your men don’t seem to have the patterning, and the few women I have read studies on only change when they are in combat mode or in pain.”
Tilting her head and giving the doctor a blank stare, Althea paused for several moments. Then, in her monotone, she said, “I am sorry I show my patterning a lot. I was the emotional one in my creche and squad.”
“The emotional one?” Marcelin asked as she blinked at Althea. She retrieved a fresh sheet of papte and started typing on it quickly.
The Mechanese woman continued, “I have been upset that I was unable to tell ba bizi, er my girlfriend, where I had been taken. I miss her very much and am depressed I have caused her so much trouble. I am also saddened at the shame I have brought upon my people for being unable to follow my orders.”
Marcelin was typing furiously on a new sheet of paper as she listened to Althea. “And what do the patterns mean?”
“Oh, various emotions,” Althea said blandly. “But I do not know why you do not know this. Kondarrians can read us very well. Also, if you were in the battle net, you would know from the emotion icons we all place there.” Althea’s patterning suddenly became fully dark, and the stunners whirred and started to charge up.
She looked directly at the stunners and gave them brief but sad smile. “My patterns are especially strong because I am despondent that I cannot contact the Network or Lord Mechanon. I must ask Him why I have been forbidden to return.” Tears started forming in her eyes when the stunners fired, and she lost consciousness.
Althea woke several hours later on her bunk. Her wrists were bruised, and there were bits of silver on her palms where she had poked herself with her own claws. The lights were out, and her readouts listed that she had been unconscious for five hours. Ah, I missed dinner, she thought. Her cell was the same, but she noticed her sheets and shoes were gone. The prison manual and Tiki’s letter were still there, as were her writing instruments and paper.
She placed her hand on her forehead as she remembered staring down the stunners. I guess I fucked up, didn’t I?