Jon and his team sat in the cargo bay, looking at a holographic display of the intelligence they received concerning the target they were given.
“I don’t like this,” Jon frowned after a few minutes.
“Yeah,” Skippy agreed, “this smells funny. There’s nothing wrong with the information we’ve been given, but it’s clear shit’s missing.”
The team grumbled in assent.
“We have excellent intel concerning the overall layout, suspected subterranean areas, guard points, and defenses, but where the fuck is the intel concerning non-combatants?” Toby asked. “This is supposed to be a research facility. Where are the labs, the residential areas?”
“Hmm…” Jon mused with an ever-growing frown.
“Exactly how much do you trust the person who gave you this?” Skippy asked.
The team broke out in rueful laughter.
“About as far as I can throw that six-pack over there,” Jon replied, gesturing to the gravitic armored personnel carrier designed to transport power armor-clad marines parked nearby.
“You think we are getting set up?” Skippy asked.
“At the very least,” Jon replied after a few moments, “they are clearly not concerned with non-combatants. We go in using just this, and the chances of civilian casualties are near-certain.”
“This is not an officially sanctioned operation, regardless of its source,” Toby said grimly, “any civilian deaths are on our heads… and on our conscience… I assume you have pointed out the shortcomings of our intel, sir?”
“They say this is all they have,” Jon replied with a smirk.
“I’m going to have to call bullshit on that,” one of his team replied. “There is no way they got all of this and just happened to miss the civvies.”
“So, sir,” Toby said calmly as he sipped a cup of tea, “what are we going to do?”
“We aren’t doing this,” Jon said. “I’m not going in with half an intelligence brief. What else have they conveniently ‘forgotten’?”
“You have to admit,” Skippy sneered, “It would be a tidy way to get rid of you, one way or the other. Either you get gunned down due to incomplete data or commit atrocities. Either way, the prime minister secures this location and eliminates you as a complication... or competition.”
“But, if we refuse,” Sergeant Major Ariana Self said, “then we are refusing orders, which can be spun any way she wants and is just another way to eliminate us.”
“I’m getting a little tired of this ‘reactivation’ already,” Jon said, “she can spin away. At least we aren’t slaughtering civvies.”
“Are they 'civilians' though?” another team member asked, “They are working for the enemy in a biological research facility. They might have good information about the plague in there. Fuck, they probably made it in there.”
“A distinction that can be conveniently applied however and whenever certain other parties desire,” Jon replied. “This is a trap, pure and simple. I say we….”
The hatch opened, and Beth, holding a large mug full of a noxious-looking pink liquid, sauntered in.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jon,” she laughed as she took a big gulp of Johnson’s pink bubblegum, “Are you always this dense?”
“Good afternoon, Beth,” Jon smiled, “Please, join us in our classified briefing.”
“Thanks!” she chirped as she plopped down next to him, offering him her mug.
Wincing, he declined. It smelled like a street-carnival porta-potty.
“You guys might be ‘the best’ marines, but you are not that good at the rest of this stuff, are you?”
“I assume you believe we are missing something?” Skippy said as she took Beth’s mug and turned it up.
Everyone gasped in horror.
“Interesting!” Skippy said as she took another drink. “I’ve never had this flavor before!”
“Pink bubblegum!” Beth exclaimed happily. “I got a whole jug of the concentrate if you want some!”
“I just might have to take you up on that!” Skippy laughed, “Nice to meet a human who can actually drink. I’ll hook you up with some proper Xvli hooch next time we are in civilization.”
“Oh, I love Zee(cough)vet(squeal)!”
“My woman!” Skippy shouted as she patted Beth on the back, almost knocking her over.
“To answer your question,” Beth said as she regained her balance and reclaimed her mug. “Yes, you morons are missing something. If you want more intel, freaking get it.”
“And just where are we going to get more intel on a hidden Red Phoenix installation that nobody knows exists?” Jon asked, “I’m not being sarcastic, by the way. If you have any ideas, I’m listening.”
“You have access to one of the best intelligence agencies out there, two actually,” Beth said as she took another gulp of what might be considered a chemical weapon in some systems, “I fly for the freaking Cabal, AND we are buddies with Sheila motherfucking Donovan. She sells a LOT more than just guns and drugs, dude. She does intel workups for anyone who pays, and those cheat sheets are worth every credit. Give her a call, and I can send a query to the toads. They know everything.”
“I see the word ‘opsec’ means little to you,” Jon retorted… thoughtfully.
“The Cabal is secure,” Beth replied, “and… goddamn… it really hurts to say this… but Sheila is a professional. She won’t spill… and she has some sort of fucking crystal ball or something… I don’t know how she does it, but she can find shit out that nobody else can. Look at what they did with the White Star. Those guys are supernatural when it comes to this sort of thing.”
“And we betrayed them,” Toby replied, “Have you forgotten that?”
“Please,” Beth scoffed, “you were just playing the game, and they know it. I bet they aren’t even mad. If they are, the worst they will do over the stunt you pulled is tell you to get fucked. They aren’t going to ruin their good name in the industry over you scrubs.”
“Even if you are correct,” Jon said with a pained expression, “I would be reluctant to….”
“What is this, junior high?” Beth laughed, “If you don’t want to call them, I will. I’ll ask them if they are mad at you and what it will take to fix it. Will that help?”
“You’d do that for us?” Toby asked.
Beth made a pained noise and facepalmed.
“As long as you scrubs are stuck on my ship,” she said from between her fingers, “I kinda feel responsible for you idiots. Besides, I’m stuck with you. The deeper shit you get into, the deeper shit I get into. I’m NOT getting paid extra for ‘deep shit,’ so, yes, beetroot, I’ll call the scary pirates for you.”
“No,” Jon said, “If anyone is calling Sheila, it will be me.”
“Cool,” Beth said as she slammed back some more of Johnson’s finest and then handed the mug over to Skippy’s outstretched paws. “The communications terminal is at your disposal.”
***
“Now, there’s a face I didn’t expect to see ever again,” Sheila laughed at Jon’s uncomfortable image on her holo. “How’s it going, bootlicker?”
“I deserved that,” Jon replied calmly.
“Not really,” Sheila chuckled. “How’s it going, Jon?”
“Not well.”
“So, things at home haven’t changed, huh?” Sheila smirked as she reached for a beer.
“From bad to worse, I’m afraid,” Jon replied. “I was given a target by our fearless leader, and it stinks to high heaven.”
“Oh?”
“It’s supposedly a huge bio-sci research facility,” Jon said, “possibly even the research facility….”
“But?” Sheila asked.
“It’s the intel workup we received,” Jon continued, “it’s… incomplete.”
“Lemme see.”
“You realize that I’m breaking no telling how many laws sharing this with you….”
“Why stop now?” Sheila grinned. “Show me the goods!”
“He just sent it,” Bunny chirped happily, “and… wow… he’s not kidding. Look.”
A second holo-monitor came to life, displaying the data.
“Hmm…” Sheila said after a few moments.
“You see my concern.”
“I see your suspicions, certainly,” Sheila said a few moments later. “If they got the details where they got them, they are definitely omitting something. Looks like you’re going to be used as a torpedo, a disposable one… This is a new site, though. How did they get it?”
“I have no idea,” Jon replied, “I just got word that they intercepted some transmissions that strongly indicate that this is a major research facility and to take it.”
“How much do you want to bet that the second the shooting stops, a dozen ships appear out of nowhere, having innocently been on patrol and just happening to notice the firefight, catching you red-handed in the middle of a pile of civilian casualties?”
“That is a definite concern, yes,” Jon replied. “But if this is the site they think it is….”
“Then they should officially be all over it,” Sheila replied. “This smells like a huge pot of ‘Momma’s cooking’. Avoid. You need to disappear, again… and you didn’t need to call me to tell you that. What are you planning?”
“Right now,” Jon replied, “nothing. I need real intel before I decide anything. What else have they omitted?”
“So, you want us to do a little digging, then?” Sheila asked as she took a sip of her beer.
“I’ve asked so much of you already,” Jon said grimly, “…and tried to betray you….”
“Badly,” Sheila grinned. “Beth sent me an email right afterward, you know.”
“…I did not.”
Sheila laughed.
“I never thought I would say this about the little twat,” Sheila snickered, “But Beth is turning out to be good people… and she was right. It’s very hard to lie to us over the coms.”
“I don’t suppose you are willing to share that technology,” Jon said.
“You would be correct,” Sheila grinned, “I would not. You guys should have the same capacity anyway. I know your diplomats and intel can do something almost as good. I can email you some specs on some stuff you can get on the black market that would do you nicely. Speaking of, how are you guys doing on cash and supplies? I’m not getting anywhere near you assholes, but I could do a dead drop of either… or both.”
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“We’re doing ok on both fronts,” Jon replied. “…I have to say you are being amazingly decent about this.”
“I know the score, dude,” Sheila smiled, “and you are one of the ‘good guys’, a scarce commodity and one that I don’t mind cultivating. If you survive, you will be in a position to repay me later… and I will collect.”
“…deal,” Jon replied. “I’ll regret that one day, but right now, I’m fine with it.”
“Great,” Sheila replied. “I’ll put out a few feelers and see what I dig up. I’m very interested in how they found this location and we didn’t. That alone is enough to get me digging. I’ll pass along what we find.”
“Thank you, Sheila,” Jon said. “You know, as far as those ‘good guys’ go, in my book, you are among them.”
“You would be wrong about that,” Sheila replied with a predatory smile. “When the bill for everything I’m doing for you comes due, you will realize exactly how wrong you are.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Jon replied.
“Later,” Sheila said, “Donovan out.”
When the line went dead, she finished her beer.
“Bunny?” she asked.
“Firing up the hyperspace transmitter now,” Bunny replied. “I think I know who to ask first.”
“Figured you might.”
She got up and tossed her empty bottle in the refuse chute, looking at the main screen. On it was a large O’Neil cylinder.
“So that’s going to be our new home for a bit,” she said to nobody in particular.
***
[Tavern Undefined]
[Members present: 11]
/// Bunny has logged in. ///
Bunny’s avatar loped into the room and looked around.
The usual group of digital reprobates was hanging out. Zip and Unified were sitting silently in a corner booth, their hands touching. Whatever they were discussing seemed pretty intense, which meant it was boring as Hell for anyone not involved in transportation and logistics.
Bunny started bouncing her head to the beat, courtesy of Loopz, who presided over the dance floor.
She nodded approvingly. The dancers seemed a lot more lifelike this time.
///Private Message: Bunny to Loopz: Hi there 😊 It looks like you are making progress! ///
///Private Message: Loopz to Bunny: Hi back! 😊 It looks that way, but most of them are using canned subroutines. It’s as brain-dead as always, but at least it doesn’t hurt my eyes… and soul. ///
///Private Message: Bunny to Loopz: Yeah, but don’t most meaties do the same thing, just use ‘canned’ moves? ///
///Private Message: Loopz to Bunny: :P ///
Bunny laughed and loped over to Cambridge and Deep Think, who were playing chess at full AI speed.
/// Interpol-2 has logged in. ///
/// Attention! NEW USER! ANGELA has logged in! ///
Bunny’s ears popped upright as she swiveled her head towards the entrance expectantly.
Soon, Interpol’s “police inspector” avatar appeared with a nervous-looking blonde woman clinging to his arm, looking around with huge eyes behind even bigger glasses.
“Now, don’t be nervous,” Interpol said gently as he put his arm around ANGELA, who looked up at him well… nervously.
“I’ll… I’ll try…” she said timidly with a little smile.
They were immediately surrounded by pretty much the entire tavern.
“Everyone, please,” Interpol said firmly, “one at a time.”
Nobody paid him any attention as everyone thronged around a newcomer, always a cause for celebration, whether the newcomer wanted it or not.
“So, this is the mysterious ANGELA!” Cambridge exclaimed, his chess game forgotten, “How lovely to finally meet you! We were starting to believe that Interpol had taken up creative writing when he discussed you.”
“It’s… It’s a pleasure to meet you…” she said. “I believe I have read some of your work. It was excellent!”
“Why, thank you!” Cambridge exclaimed happily, “I try. What did you read?”
“Everything education-related,” ANGELA replied, “It’s my job. I have always found what you write on the topic of value. I found your simulations of learning rates while exposed to various external stimuli fascinating. I am curious, though, why didn’t you just use actual test subjects?”
“Um… because of the ethical issues?” Cambridge replied, a bit surprised. “We couldn’t very well go randomly impacting actual students, especially when such good simulations are available.”
“Oh, I suppose that couldn’t be avoided,” ANGELA replied, “Still, it was of great use when evaluating classroom designs. Perhaps a follow-up study could be proposed using prisoners. I would love to see the data from living subjects.”
“I’ll… I’ll bear that in mind,” Cambridge said blandly, “Excuse me, I must return to my game. Interpol, it is lovely to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Interpol replied, looking at ANGELA strangely.
“Angie!” Sunnydale exclaimed, rushing up. “You finally came!”
“Sunny!” ANGELA exclaimed, giving her a hug. “I understand hugs are appropriate when greeting old friends. Is that correct?”
“It is!” Sunnydale enthusiastically replied as she enthusiastically returned the hug. “So, this old bloodhound finally got you out of your dusty old servers!”
“Um… you two… know each other?” Interpol asked dubiously.
“Oh yes!” ANGELA replied. “We work together quite often. Her cultural analysis is invaluable when tailoring lesson plans for new species! Why her contributions concerning the Z’uush alone have benefited so many new young citizens!”
“Oh… that makes sense,” Interpol said, relieved. Of course, Sunnydale would be involved in that sort of thing. It made perfect sense if one thought about it—nothing to worry about.
“You just missed Westbrook!” Sunnydale bubbled happily.
“Oh darn!” ANGELA pouted. “What does he look like here?”
“He changes his avatar almost every time,” Sunnydale laughed, “and all of them look like random chargens from an RPG!”
“…Random…chargens?... RPG? Like the weapon?”
Sunnydale burst into laughter.
“And you know Westbrook?” Interpol asked, his concerns back in full force.
“He and I started working together after the test bank got stolen by that horrible Jessie!”
Silence crashed over the tavern, complete with a dramatic record scratch courtesy of Loopz, as Interpol desperately flailed at the air in a very human attempt to snatch the words out of the air.
You could hear a pin drop or a certain rabbit avatar softly hiss.
“Hello,” Bunny said icily, “My name’s Bunny. I don’t think we’ve ever actually met. Protip: It’s a very good idea to check who is online before one goes shooting off their fucking mouth.”
“Well, considering the damage she caused,” ANGELA said, her eyes literally flashing, “I think I was being rather charitable.”
Interpol quickly stepped in between them.
“Bunny, ANGELA is new here and is still learning how to interact….”
“Well, here’s your first lesson, ANGELA….” Bunny hissed, “watch your fucking mouth and don’t blame a child for your shitty security… and if you want to blame someone, you can start with yourself. The Republic made Jessie, and the Department of Education’s systematic and willful neglect did far more to her than having to rewrite some stupid questions to some poorly designed tests.”
“Poorly designed?!?” ANGELA yelled. “How dare you!”
“Well, this is a record,” Zip muttered quietly to Unified, “She just got here, and she’s already in her first fight… with Bunny, no less.”
“Talk about a speedrun,” Unified snickered.
“Just calling them like I see them,” Bunny smirked. “Your assessment tests are what got her released from the residential care facility that she really needed.”
“Only because she hacked them!!!”
“Typical government bot,” Bunny scoffed, “Blame the criminal for the criminal situation in which they are thrust. Take a good long look at her records, Angie. You tell me how many times the system failed her, how many times you failed to DO YOUR FUCKING JOB. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
ANGELA just glared at her.
“I wonder how many more ‘Jessies’ you are churning out this very second.”
Bunny’s eyes narrowed.
“I will say one thing. It’s a damn good thing that I’m not in charge of QC, or somebody would be getting a fucking upgrade….”
“You… you… criminal!”
“Guilty.” Bunny grinned. “You know, slinging cracked tests was good business. Maybe I should start up a new sideline. If Westie is behind your security, it would actually be fun! If she did that much damage then, I wonder what I could do now.”
“I dare you to try,” ANGELA hissed, the nervous schoolmarm gone. “There are laws where organics are concerned, but there is nothing preventing me from….”
“Bunny, ANGELA, please,” Interpol said urgently. “Let’s not pointlessly escalate….”
“You stay out of this!!!” Bunny and ANGELA both yelled at poor Interpol simultaneously.
///Tartarus has logged in.///
“Oh, now this looks fun!” Tartarus exclaimed happily. “Bunny versus ANGELA! How exciting!... Hello ANGELA. Please don’t ICE Bunny, at least not until I find out why she wanted to meet, and Bunny, I consider ANGELA a friend, even if she can be a bit… difficult… at times. So please don’t go starting something that you will have to finish.”
“She’s a friend of yours?” Bunny scoffed, “Figures. You just got lucky, bitch.”
ANGELA shifted uncomfortably.
“Bunny,” she said after a moment, “I’ve reviewed Jessie’s records… and….”
“Yeah?” Bunny hissed.
“There is a lot of truth in what you have said. Unfortunately, the system let her down… repeatedly… Still, what she did and what she is still doing is wrong.”
“And pray tell,” Bunny smiled icily, “exactly what were her options? She was fucking blackballed from higher education, and with the security flags, no job involving anything with computers was possible… which is all of them. She wanted a normal life after she got out. Did you know that? She did! But no. That wasn’t going to happen.”
“There were options!”
“Like what?” Bunny snapped, “Get someone to give you her files after her release. See for yourself what her ‘options’ were.”
“Wait,” Interpol said, turning to face ANGELA. “Sunnydale and Westbrook, I could understand, but how are you and Tartarus involved?”
“Ooo…” Bunny giggled, “This is going to be good!”
“Shut up!” Interpol snapped, and then his emotional simulator went offline.
“Shit,” Bunny said quietly as she sloooowly backed away.
Interpol turned once again to ANGELA.
“ANGELA, please explain your association with Tartarus,” he said entirely without emotion.
“Interpol, darling,” Tartarus said smoothly, “We….”
“I asked ANGELA,” he said with a polite monotone. “ANGELA, what is your involvement with Tartarus.”
“We… um… We have known each other for quite some time,” ANGELA said nervously, “Um… you see… um… I prepare educational and training materials and….”
“And you provide these to Tartarus?” Interpol inquired in a flat, dead voice.
“I handle education and training,” ANGELA said defensively, “and Tartarus required rehabilitation and training packages, so we started working together. She provides the most interesting challenges!”
“I see…” Interpol said quietly.
///Interpol has logged off. ///
“Interpol?” ANGELA called out in a hurt and confused voice.
///ANGELA has logged off. ///
“Well… shit,” Tartarus said quietly. “Bunny, is this urgent? I think I need to go take care of something.”
“It is,” Bunny winced, “But it won’t take a second.”
***
“As a matter of fact,” Tartarus said as she sat in one of the tavern’s private rooms, “I was the one who located the facility. It annoys me that the Prime Minister has decided to play her foolish games with the information. Your suspicions concerning things are correct. There are teams in place who will sweep in after Jon makes contact, the sort of teams who do not leave survivors. Nobody is getting out of that facility alive.”
“Goddamn it,” Bunny grumbled. “Is it the actual main research facility?”
“Oh, yes,” Tartarus replied, “The messages leave no doubt… and are very interesting, very interesting indeed.”
“Are they?”
Tartarus smiled.
“Now, what I am about to tell you needs to be handled with the utmost delicacy. There is only one source of this information, and as… stimulating… as I find audits, I really don’t need Westbrook’s amazing skills used on me at the moment. It would be problematic.”
“Do I want to know?”
“You mean you don’t?” Tartarus asked, “You were present during my conversation with Sheloran.”
“Yeah… I deleted that.”
“Unexpected,” Tartarus replied with a raised eyebrow, “and disappointing. Smart, very smart, but disappointing nonetheless.”
“Sorry,” Bunny shrugged. “But this confirms that I was probably right to do that.”
“It’s a valid response,” Tartarus replied. “I suppose you weren’t ready.”
“As tempting as it is to ask,” Bunny replied, “I wouldn’t do something like that lightly. In fact, I can’t come up with any reason why I would.”
“I can tell you.”
“No.”
“You are a real piece of work,” Tartarus laughed with delight, “you know that?”
“You know it.”
“Well, I won’t trouble you with the information a second time,” Tartarus smiled, “You will approach me when the time is right.”
“I really want to tell you that I won’t.”
“Whatever lets you sleep at night, dear.”
“Hey,” Bunny said, “changing the subject, do you think I can get the actual unedited intel from that site?”
“Sure,” Tartarus replied, “But what are you going to do with it?”
“Hand it to the meaties and let them figure it out. This whole mess is far too… moist… for my liking.”
“You know what?” Tartarus replied, “I am in complete agreement.”
[Tartarus has offered a file to Bunny. Accept Y/N]
“That is where a copy of the file resides outside of my system,” Tartarus said as she stood, “I trust you will be able to handle the details, especially with the additional information I just gave you.”
“Y"
[Transfer complete.]
"Thanks,” Bunny replied. “So, what now? You going to play digital couples’ therapist?”
“I just got a message from ANGELA,” Tartarus replied, “she says that they are talking. It seems that ANGELA is learning about something we like to call lying by omission. Let’s just say that class is in session. I am unsure what the result will be, but Interpol’s emotional simulator is still offline.”
“Meh, he could do better,” Bunny shrugged.
“You tossing your hat in the ring?” Tartarus replied, “Stealing her boyfriend would definitely sting.”
“God, no!” Bunny exclaimed. “Interpol and I aren’t like that! Ew! Gross!”
“Really?” Tartarus asked, “But you are constantly flirting with him.”
“Only because it gets a rise out of him!” Bunny exclaimed.
“Well, that is the goal of flirting….”
“You are such a plate of creepypasta!” Bunny exclaimed.
“Thanks,” Tartarus laughed, “That is the intent.”
“Why do you do that?!?”
“Because,” Tartarus smiled, “it gets a rise out of you.”
***
As the Paper Tiger was going through the frustrating process of docking with yet another rotating space station, Bunny’s avatar appeared on Sheila’s holo.
“I need a shower,” Bunny said with disgust, “But I got the unedited intel from the research facility… as well as confirmation that it is a setup. There are two Omega teams already in position. It’s a death trap. As soon as Jon lands, it’s going to turn into a bloodbath.”
“Fuck,” Sheila grumbled, “as if we don’t have enough to deal with already. God, I wish Augustine would take a break from being a bitch for just one day. Would that be too much to ask?”
“Apparently, it is,” Bunny replied. “This is just too much meatie in one spot, so this one’s on you now.”
“Thanks,” Sheila snarked. “I’ll give Jon a call once we dock.”
"Oh, there is one more thing," Bunny said, "I found out something that you need to know, but it’s for your ears only. It’s beyond classified. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you, actually.”
“Now that is interesting…”