🚀 go-pugleaf

     There are six natural satellites in the Serenity star system.
     The first satellite is small, and low density.  It has no
exploitable resources to speak of, and is close enough to the
blue/white star that Serenity scours the planetoid's surface with a
constant stream of blasting heat.  It possesses no atmosphere worth
mentioning.
     The second satellite is a moderately sized world of
significant density.  It possesses a high metallic content and had
been bombarded with comets and meteorites that contributed to a
primordial soup that could conceivably bring forth life, were the
planet not far too close to Serenity to be in the star's biozone.
As it was, churning clouds and lightning flared, making the world a
searing hellhole for those unfortunate Fringe Corpsmen and women
who had been assigned to mine it.
     The third satellite is much farther out, past the asteroids.
It is a huge gas giant, and as such a ready source of the raw gases
that made up fusion reactor fuel and pushed the Wraithdrives that
had opened up the galaxy.
     The fourth satellite is also a gas giant -- far smaller, but
with a dozen startlingly beautiful rings surrounding it.  They were
microice and dust, and burst with reds and blues and shining
whites.  It is nowhere near as rich in exploitable gases as
Serenity III, so it has for the most part been ignored by the
Fringe Corps and the United Compact of Planets, save that pilots
entering the Serenity system inevitably swing by for a look if they
know to.  Also, a point next to a portal a ship sixteen megameters
from Serenity IV facing at a forty two degree angle positioned to
view the rings from above has been rated the best place to kiss in
the Serenity system, winning by close to fourteen percent.
     The fifth satellite is little more than moon sized, with some
whiffs of metal but mostly just dust and impact craters.  The
Fringe Corps use it as an automatic detection and repeater station,
covering the less travelled side of the system at any given time.
     The sixth satellite is more or less the prize.  A high-density
world, it was rich in metals and resources but was far enough from
Serenity to eliminate weather considerations.  It is the world most
exploited by the Fringe Corps and the UCP, with a mining colony of
relatively cold pioneers working it more or less constantly.
     These six worlds are nothing special.  There are thousands of
known systems in the galaxy far more significant, and far more
sought after by the two dominant financial powers known in the
Galaxy -- the Megacorp Council-ruled United Compact of Planets and
the Nin Conglomerate.  But the Fringe Corps rates Serenity Class
Alpha Two -- the same rating as affluent Sutter's Ridge and far
higher than more profitable colony worlds.
     The six natural satellites of Serenity had nothing to do with
this.
     The one artificial satellite, sitting in the middle of
Serenity's biozone, had everything to do with it.
     The satellite gleamed with metal designed to absorb all the
solar radiation that touched its surface area.  This supplanted the
Microstar plant that was replacing the more unstable and dangerous
Spam reactors used before.  It had been a perfect sphere once, but
now had long furrows etched into it -- furrows formed of channeled
neuroforce and bionuclear power.  Docking bays opened and closed,
releasing probes and ships, while arrays and sensors probed the
infinite night of undiscovered space.
     And on the far side of Serenity, in an eternal night borne of
bad planning, a black circle with a bright red shape lay on the
hull.  Forever unseen, but proud nonetheless.
     The shape of a bird in a circle.
     Despite philosophy and violence, despite Lords, Serfs,
Managers and Pawns, despite sabotage and spam coverings... despite
even creation and destruction, chaos, order and balance... Round
Robin station still shone, it's mission still pursued, it's
standard still high.



           Space, the Final Avenue of Exploitation....

                      Authorial Productions
                       in association with
                     Mademoiselle Muse, Inc.
                               and
              The Pongress and Paul Memorial Trust
                            presents

                           Round Robin
                        The Second Cycle
                (Everything old is new again....)

                           Chapter One
                            "Bridges"

                            a rewrite
                               by
                        Eric Alfred Burns
      (welcome back my friends to the show that never ends)




     "...take some time to pay our respects," the Captain said, her
voice amplified throughout the station's PA.  "Most of you knew
Lieutenant Commander Spammeister.  Most of you have heard of
Lieutenant Grey of the Earthguard, who we also knew, briefly, as
the Dark.  Admiral Lochair was a legend in the fleet, of course...
and Lieutenant Commander Robin, of Biggibastion IV, was the
architect and designer of our station, which still bears his name.
     "More eloquent speakers than I shall speak of our honored
dead.  For me... these were more than names.  They were friends.  I
would like to speak to each of you today on this friendship."
     "I'm just sure you would," Random muttered, his black dress
uniform open at the collar, his feet up on his table in Topside --
one of the Civilian run recreation rooms on the station.  Most
people were gone from the bar: for Fringe Corps personnel, the
Memorial Service was mandatory, and for the rest, it was a chance
to put some kind of closure on the hellacious last few weeks on
Round Robin station.
     Random never considered mandatory rules and regulations to be
more than guidelines.  And he was pretty sure no one would be
missing him in the Hall.  By coincidence, ALEXIS would no doubt
miss marking him off on the roll.  By coincidence, Granite wouldn't
note the absence of one of the station's few Paranormals.  By
coincidence, Captain Sheen would have her mind on other things.
     Coincidence was Random's friend.  It was why he knew
coincidence had a hand in so few things.  He could tell the
difference.  Coincidence tasted like chicken.
     Conspiracy tasted very different indeed.
     Random polished off his beer.  It wasn't one of the good ones
-- Eddie, the owner and chief bartender, had the only key to the
premium locker, and Eddie was at the Service, wearing his best blue
suit and trying his best to look somber.  Another good reason for
Random to avoid the entire affair -- he's given up looking somber
for Lent.
     "--emeber most about Robin was his patience.  It seemed he
could wait forever for a result.  And no matter how the children of
the Earthguard might ignore him, or rant at him... or worst, not
understand him... Robin never lost patience with us--"
     "Right.  Absolutely," Random murmured.  "He patiently waited
for his big shot to kill everyone on the station and use a planet's
destruction to fuel his own misguided apotheosis into a Lord of the
Outer Darkness.  And he would have gotten away with it too, if it
weren't for those pesky kids, and that Lord."  Random swung to his
feet.  Of all the dead people, the Admiral was the only one who
*had* died and *hadn't* really deserved it.  Grey had merged with
the Blue Middle Manager of the In-Between Greyness, so you couldn't
even really call him dead.  Spammeister had had the same thing
happen to him, except he merged with the Red Middle Manager.  Robin
was a traitor.  Lochair had suicided for the greater good.
     Which kind of made him the hero, if you thought about it from
a certain angle.  And Random loved to think about angles.
     "Is that a promotion I see?"
     The voice was quiet, and feminine, and it raised an unexpected
chill up Random's spine.  He had heard the voice before -- it
belonged to his best friend... but it was different, now... it had
undergone so many changes....  It had been taken, and used, and
abused by the Blue Lord of the Outer Darkness, as so many had been.
     "Yeah," he said, swinging his feet down and swiveling in his
chair to face the newcomer.  "Sublieutenant.  A due reward for
being the only schmuck on the station to have any idea of what
exactly was going on.  So what's by you?  Are you out of the
infirmary for real or what?"
     "For real," Morph said.  She was currently female, and Random
could see a difference there too.  She was... rounder, fuller than
she normally was in her female aspect.  Her hair was longer.  And
she was wearing a white tunic with a v-neck cut and black leggings
that made her seem quite female indeed.  "I'm inactive for another
couple of weeks -- my metamorphic abilities have been strained, so
Doctor Combustion wants me to take it easy.  But they're going to
be okay... and I guess so am I."
     "This is... a new look for you," Random said quietly.  "And
the fifth time in as many viewings of you that you've been female,
while you've been recovering.  What's the deal?"
     Morph shrugged, her shoulders rising higher than a normal
human's could.  "It's... an admission.  When the Blue Lord left
me... well, whatever else he did... he finished my creation.  It
was like I'd been a work in progress before.  He'd left me
incomplete, so that he could more easily use me when the time came.
When he left me... he finished me off."
     "And that means you're a woman?  Not indeterminant?"
     "That means I'm a woman.  I can still emulate the male, but I
never really felt like either one before.  Now I do."
     "So no more unisex jumpsuits?"  Random grinned and signaled
one of the relief bartenders.  "You drinking?"
     "Not while I'm on Cetomallin IV.  I'll take McLeod Cola, if
that's cool."
     "It's cool.  Another lager and a Micky C, Todd."
     Todd nodded and headed back to the counter.
     "So what about you?" Morph asked.  "Any new fives?"
     "There are always new fives.  There will always be new fives.
There are enough new fives that I'm going to spend the next month
or so drinking the fives into oblivion.  But the Five Friends are
gone, and with them go the Lords and the Serfs and their Pawns.
The seeds aren't about to start fueling new cosmic conspiracies, so
it's a whole new ballgame."
     "Really.  So, no more conspiracy theories?"
     "I didn't say *that.*  For example -- did you realize that
Ambassador Dumont was scheduled to be posted to the Coreward
Sector, but the Clan McLeod voting block leveraged her into this
posting -- and stepped up the timeframe, like they specifically
wanted her posted here at this point in time?"
     "No, I didn't.  And how would *you* know that?"
     "Read the minutes of the Megacorp Council meetings sometime.
Interesting things in there."
     "You're a nut, Random.  A complete, total, utter loony."
     "Smile when you say that." Random smiled too.  "Hey, it sounds
like they're winding down on the service.  What say we drink our
drinks and go hang in the Arboretum -- I don't think I want Granite
to come up here and see I wasn't at the Service."
     "Sounds like a plan.  It seems like... we have a lot to talk
about."
     "Funny.  I was just thinking the same thing."

                           <><><><><>

     Antonia Wells had learned some hard lessons in her life.  She
had learned to not become too attached to the paranormals who
served with her in the Earthguard -- they had always been in
dangerous situations, even before they had become codified into a
military force following the last Nin war.  Sometimes, Earthguard
members died.
     She had learned to push aside her own torments.  As Magnetic
Lass, and later Commodore Wavelength, she had been put through the
crucible more times than she could count.  She could not afford to
be weak, to admit pain.
     She had learned to not let troubles and travails concern her.
As the Green Serf of the Inner Light, she had learned to purify
herself with the cool forces of discipline.  The discipline of
patterns of magnetic force.  The cool ice of reason.  To eliminate
and redirect the chaos in her life back out of her life.
     And on this day, oh so few days after the terrifying, glorious
reunification, she had to remain cool, and impassive, and an
example.
     Which meant she never had time to stop and hurt.  And she
wanted to so badly.
     So much had happened in those whirlwind hours.  The
destruction of a planet.  The betrayal of them all by Robin.  The
effective death and rebirth of Grey.  The birth, childhood and
adulthood of her only child, Genevive....
     Her rape, at the hands of Genevive's father.
     She smiled her professional smile, striding in her dress white
Earthguard uniform.  Anyone could tell the difference between the
Earthguard and the Fringe corps: the white and red uniforms of the
First Defense -- the legends who had taken up the defense of the
United Compact of Planets, Incorporated scarcely into adolescence,
now matured into professionals -- contrasted sharply with the black
and silver uniforms of the Fringe Corps -- the paramilitary devoted
to fleet defense, exploration and the development of new economic
opportunities for the UCP, Inc. to exploit.  There were only a
scant few Earthguard members on board Round Robin at this time --
and too many of those were injured for Antonia's comfort.
     And that brought up the most pain.  The hardest things to
smile through.
     Charles Stuart, called Excalibur, had been suborned by one of
the Lords of the Outer Darkness as a pawn.  His provincialism had
increased the strains on the working relationships of Kid Nuclear
and Captain Sheen, as well as many others.  Antonia wanted to be
furious at him.
     But he was the brother of Anne Stuart -- Captain Impulse.
Antonia's junior executive officer and longtime lover.  His
injuries and conduct had strained Anne considerably, at the worst
possible time.  Because Anne's husband -- Derek Dumont, called
Delphi and the third corner of a noncompetitive romantic triangle
the three had shared since they were seventeen years of age -- had
attempted to probe the mind of the Blue Lord of the Outer Darkness,
encountering a psyche so powerful, so overwhelming he couldn't
stand it.  Doctor Combustion reported extensive neurological damage
from the feedback -- treatable with neurosurgical and telepathic
assistance, but blinding to a telepath of Derek's power.  More than
that, he had suffered an incredibly traumatic experience, not
responding at all to anyone but Anne and Antonia, and barely
responding to them.
     In a way, he seemed deader than Ensign Corpse.  And that was
the hardest thing for Antonia to set aside.
     "Excuse me," she murmured to another knot of the non-paranorm
Fringe Corps crew as she slipped through the halls.  She caught a
glimpse of Ernie, the bartender up in Topside who had suggested
that the Serfs of the Inner Light meet on Round Robin.  He glanced
back and smiled quickly, before stepping into a grav tube and
letting ALEXIS whisk him away.
     Antonia pushed through the queue for the grav tubes, making
her way for the aft ladders.  It was only three floors up, and the
time alone would do her....
     There was a ripple of reflected light in front of her, and
Antonia felt her heart leap.  Since the Reunification, she had
never been alone with her....
     The woman stopped her slow walk forward, and turned to face
Antonia.  The light reflected off of the woman's skin -- skin that
seemed to be cast in liquid gold.  "Hello, mother," the woman said.
"You're looking well."
     Antonia swallowed.  "Hello, Genevive... it seems... imprudent
to advertise our relationship.  The questions it would raise--"
     "What questions," Genevive asked, stepping forward.  "What
questions could there possibly be?  Who would ask them?   The need
for secrecy is over, Mother.  There are no more Serfs or Pawns...
Lords or Middle Managers.  There are simply Five Friends who have
left these realms, and five Seeds.  Bits of potential that won't be
meaningful for eons."
     "I have a certain reputation and position to consider,"
Antonia said curtly.  "But that is neither here nor there.  I
have... put some thought into your future."
     Genevive smiled slightly... but for her golden hue, her face
and body was identical to Captain Sheen's.  But that smile would
have looked alien on Sheen's face.  "Oh?  In what way, Mother?"
     "Yes.  The Menelaus will be heading back to Earth in about ten
hours.  I and the Earthguard members will be on it.  I thought you
could come along.  We'll be transporting the Nin Conglomerate
prisoners as well, which will put the two of us, Kid Nuclear and
Nixaen all on board -- that's four of the five Seeds.  I thought
perhaps we could confer... discuss what our new status means to
us."
     "And afterwards?"
     "The Earthguard, of course.  We could learn the extent of your
paranormalities, train you in their use, and give you a productive
career--"
     Genevive laughed a silvery laugh.
     Antonia frowned.  She wasn't used to being interrupted.
"Genevive, that is hardly a productive--"
     "Productive... mmm... twice you used that word, `Productive.'
Mother, it is an excellent plan.  A glorious plan.  But you forget
that plans are in your purview, as the Seed of Order.  I am
Creation... and have a different agenda."
     "You are a foundling.  A child without a world, without a
past, without a path--"
     "I have a path, Mother.  I am afraid I won't be able to
subscribe to very many of your plans, as I have prior commitments."
     "Prior -- you're staying here?  On Round Robin?"
     "Oh, heavens no.  I will be riding on the Menelaus, at least
at the beginning."  Genevive smiled, and sauntered back towards the
grav tubes.  "Be seeing you."
     Antonia watched her daughter go, her face impassive, her
emotions tightly regulated.
     After all, she had to remain cool, and impassive, and an
example.


                    <<Continued in Part Two>>




--
Beta-Cit Eric Alfred Burns  |"Takes more than Combat Gear to Make a Man,
<sabre@awenet.com>          | Takes more than a License for a Gun.
http://www.eyrie.org/~sabre | Confront your Enemies, Avoid them when you can,
Writer Type, Poet Boy       | A Gentleman will walk but never run."
Gadfly-for-Hire             |                             --Sting