Wordslingin'

The plan was simple: sneak into the private chambers of Emir Thoras and assassinate him. The problem: he wasn't there. Stupid plans.

[It's good to know that your own wellbeing outweighs that of others.]
Brock: "Landing on people is softer than landing on pavement."

Would you like to know more?

The lead up

Eric Grossman, former sergeant in the Parachutistes Infanterie Marine, leader of the Dak mercenary team, currently passing himself off as stunt diver for Gable Films, Prince Gable, Badlands, thumbed the comm:

"Let me know when we're at 6500 meters."

"6500, roger," came the reply.

Grossman sat crosslegged in the cargo hold of a rickety old hopper, and looked out the small window next to him. It was a glorious day, he surmised--cold and clear, with very little wind over the jungle. He peered down, eyeing the dark foliage of the jungle canopy below. He didn't like jumping over jungle. Too many things were waiting, ready to eat him on the ground.

The other members of the Daks were doing a final review of the jump procedures with their students. Each student had one supervisor. Grossman smirked. He hadn't heard from Kain DeLaCroix since 1919 when he hired the Daks to perform a paraglider assault on some fortified compound in the Heaps of Khayr-ad Din. Sixteen cycles later, he gets a a cryptic message on an email account he almost never checks:

"In ESE. Would like paraglider lessons for five. -Kain"

When he replied in the affirmative, Grossman received another highly illuminating message:

"Be in Cimmaro in 3 days."

Now Grossman and his Daks were about to buddy jump with DeLaCroix, Vonyran, Tarmalin, Chambers and some Paxton sales rep (hah!) named Kessler. He watched the five virgin jumpers and smiled. These were some of the coolest customers he'd ever seen, but he could detect the sense of urgency creeping up on them. He suppressed a chuckle: in four days, he'd have them landing on the tip of a barnaby's tooth. Otherwise, they'd never be able to pull off whatever insane stunt they were planning.

"6500 meters," came the voice in his headset.

"Alright!" Grossman yelled as he reached for the door handle, "everyone get ready!"

------

Sid Teg pounded the beer back, and crushed the can in his hand. He tossed the empty over his shoulder and reached for another. The satisfying "crack-hiss" of the beer opening in his hands was all the invitation he needed. He raised the beer to his lips, and--

"Thanks!" Josephina reached around the big man and grabbed the beer can out from his enormous paw. She stepped back, and took a swig, wincing, "ugh, Sid! This stuff'll peel varnish!"

"Bwuh?" Sid had already downed a half-dozen beers, so he wasn't exactly at his best. He turned, stood, stumbled, and then belched. Wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm, he glared at Josephina.

"I like it," he managed, defensively, "and if you don't like it, give it back."

"Can't. You gotta sober up and get in on the planning."

"Why? I'm not exactly..."

"A rabble rouser?" Josephina teased as she took another gulp. The camp was high enough in the mountains to be dry,

but it was still hot enough for the questionable brew to be thirst-quenching, "no, but you are an Easterner."

"Yeah? So?"

"Sid, you're not as dumb as you look," Jo admonished.

"Hmph. Alright, I'm your token dirt-sloggin' Easterner who don't know any better, looking for guidance from the enlightened Emir," growled Sid, "Mr. Demille, I'mma ready fer my close-up," he belched.Josaphina threw the can at Sid's head. It bounced off his skull with a dull thud.

"Hey!"

"After two cycles down here, doing good work, you become cynical the moment the Doc and Kain show up?"

"Hey, that's not..."

"No, it's not true. And you know that it's not true. So quit feeling sorry for yerself just because you haven't satisfied that death-wish of yours lately. Sober up, suit up, and get ready to move."

"Yes'm," Sid rubbed his eyes with his fists, and trundled off to the hopper where the group made camp.

"Oh, and Sid!"

"Yeah?"

"What's this stuff called?" she held up the half-full can.

"Cimmaro Special Label."

"When this is done, I'll buy you a case."

-------------

The hatch swung open. Gade stepped up to the opening before everyone else. The wind buffeted his head a bit, as his fingers gripped door edge. He looked back at his friends in the interior of the cargo hold. They had jumped over the jungles of Interior a few times, far from prying eyes, but still in training. This suddenly felt very different. There was no urgency, just a tingling sensation as Gade understood that he was about to attempt something incredibly difficult, and stupendously dangerous.

He looked down. The night was dark, but clear. Gade could see the winking lights of Okavango far below. He swallowed.

Gade looked over at Kain, and grinned.

"You know Kain," he yelled over the wind, "the only reason I'm doing this is because I couldn't figure out a better idea than yours for getting into the palace!"

With that, he launched himself into the dark sky, and plummetted to the swamps below.

-------------

UNREST IN OKAVANGO AS EMIR RAPHAEL BHRAVO RETURNS -- (Okavango) One week after a major security incident at the Emirate Palace here, Emirate security forces are hard-pressed to maintain order as riots and insurrection grows. Groups of armed sajhalin commoners have clashed with security forces in bloody street fights, and Emirate guardsmen are cracking down on the citizens of this floating city with every means available to them. Most surprisingly, the exiled Boy-Emir Raphael Bhravo has made a re-appearance in the city, inspiring commoners to revolt. Bhravo was last seen heading the March of One-Thousand, a religiously-themed protest movement calling for reform in the Eastern Sun Emirates. Thus far, Bhravo had explicitely avoided endorsing the Basal-Bangueleu revolt. AST Lord Chancellor Kenichi Tenaka commented, saying that "the unrest in Okavango is one more sign of the profound need for responsible governance on the part of the Emirs." (Satellite News Service, 23 Winter, TN1935)

-----------------

"How high up is this!?" Tom Chambers yelled at Kain.

"6500 meters, Doc!" The floater's engines and the airflow made the reply nearly inaudible.

Doc looked down from the open hatch on the side of the Badlands floater and swallowed. The craft bobbed slightly as it churned its way through the midnight air. The swamp and jungle below stretched on to the horizon, barely visible on this moonless night. Tom couldn't even see Gade falling in the darkness.

Tom scowled at Kain. He jumped.

The wind smeared Tom's face back hard. Suddenly the jungle didn't seem quite as far away as it had been up in the floater.

After everything, now it's paragliding.

He thought back to NuCoal, and the apartment in the Core Tower of Khayr-ad Din with Julie, and Lance Point.

He knew that he'd have to pull the rip-cord and save himself.

His hand moved to pull the rip-cord but paused. Tom allowed himself a bit of time to meditate on everything. Why was he going back to Okavango? After all, his friends were free. Why was he falling 6500 meters? All Kain's talk of doing good always butted up against the fact that Tom just didn't really believe in redemption.

Not yet, anyways.

There's an easy way with no answers or a hard way full of questions.

He pulled the rip-cord.

-------------------

Emir Raphael Bhravo knelt in the dirt of his tiny garden patch and contemplated the weeds. It had been a busy time in the camp since he met Sam, Kain, the Doctor, Maia, and that dancing monk, Inigo.He smiled as the monk's interpretive dance played in his mind. He briefly considered that the man was neither a monk, nor a trained dancer, but decided to worry about that later. Sam's words were etched in his mind: "Why be an emir if it's only gonna give ya grief?"

His brow furrowed, and he gently tugged at the offending plant roots in his little garden. They did not yield.

Perhaps I should save the flowers, and abandon the garden...

-------------------

"I wasn't sure if he'd do it," Sam said to no one in particular, as the Doc launched himself out of the hatch. The wind coming in through the open hatch of the floater was dying down a bit.

"C'mon Sam, you're up," Kain shouted, a little forcefully.

Sam mosied over to the hatch. All he could see was dark sky outside, so his mind began filling with everything else:

That Emir kid sure can play a mean poker hand. Really thought I had him there. How can a boy bluff like that?

Good to see Dekko. He's lookin' scrawnier than usual though. Seems a little nervous, guarding the Emir kid, but he's grown up some in the jungles.

Sid's looking like he would jump out of this here floater without a parachute just to human dive-bomb the Emir. He's gotta chill out. Hope Josephina and the others can keep him straight until we all get back to the Caravan.

Gade's boy sure does look like his ma. Lucky kid.

There's gonna be a fair amount of shootin' in a bit. Hmm.

Isobel still tastes like cawfee and kisses like a stingin' redjacket.

He got to the hatch. The night sky was dark, but there was just enough light to see the swampland below stretch out, and out, and out. Terra Nova loomed large at him. It dawned on Sam that he had never been this high up before. The paraglider strapped to his back seemed very heavy.

"Huh."

Sam jumped, and wondered if he'd find his way to the ground from this height. But only for a moment.

-------------------

"We've got a problem!"

Josaphina hissed behind her to the small team of rebels in the alleyway. They looked tired and scared, but they still had some fight in them.

I still probably shouldn't have said that.

She looked around the corner again. Her eyes narrowed. Down the street she confirmed the approaching problem. A pair of heavy gears -- she saw the ubiquitous rounded profile of a Jager, and the squat, dome-head of a Basilisk. Not exactly heavy hitters on the face of it, but Josaphina noted that the Basilisk had a sensor boom scanning busily, and both were kitted-out for anti-personnel work.

Flamethrower on the Jager, twin machineguns on the Basilisk. We're way beyond crowd control here.

The Emirate Guard of Okavango had proven more ruthless than she had expected. Most likely, Emir Thoras had tightened their rations and increased their access to the high dosage stim-patches. As if to reinforce the point, the Jager aimed at a house and let off a blast of burning fuel into the ground floor. A moment later, a burning figure burst out of the door, and died on the street.

The gears were joined by a squad of trigger-happy Guardmen on foot, picking their way carefully through the narrow street. Their black stylized armour inspired terror in the sajhalin. It just made Josaphina hold them in even more contempt.

Josaphina's eyes widened. The Basilisk's sensor boom was pointed right at their position.

"Run!" she yelled, as the Guardsmen opened fire. The alleyway became a canyon of death as shrapnel filled the air.

Josaphina had already found enough cover to stop the worst of it. Her endorphins took care of the bits that got through. She growled as ricochets bounced shrilly against the support beams of the buildings. Some of the rebels were still alive, having been street rats and fighters already. But the alley was instantly littered with the torn bodies of many sajhalin.

Josaphina belly-crawled to the corner again, and took a hand mirror out and eased her hand around the bricks. She flinched as a piece of concrete shrapnel came perilously close, but a moment later she could see the Guardsmen approaching, the two gears waiting for orders. She gritted her teeth and keyed her comm.

"No time like the present, boys!"

"Hey, who you calling 'boy'?" came a terse feminine reply, before Josaphina saw a small object arc over and onto the Jager from across the street.

She pulled the mirror back. Isobel's hand-made limpet mine exploded, making the gear lurch and crash into a building. That was Josaphina's cue. She brought her assault rifle up to her shoulder and began firing at the surprised Guardsmen.

Her team began to counter-attack. The Basilisk opened up with its machineguns as it backed up through a building

and tripped over backwards. Sajhalin swarmed it before it could right itself. Within minutes they had extracted the pilot, and exacted their own revenge.

It made Josaphina Dragushan sick to her stomach.

-----------

Dekko had his hands on his hips, "Isobel, what in the world..."

"Oh, hi Dekko," Isobel smiled. She was sitting at a small bench, loading a shotgun. On a table in front of her was a veritable arsenal of explosive devices: frame charges, blocks of plastic explosives, primer-cord, tamping hemispheres, grenades, trip wires... She motioned for the young gunfighter to sit across from her.

"You going to war, Isobel?"

She chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"We've been down here, fighting together for, what, five seasons, and now you ask?"

"Well, I never seen all this before," Dekko motioned to the weaponry.

Isobel nodded, pressing a round into the tube with her thumb.

"Well, didn't have much need once we got to the camp, but now that I'm going back--"

"You're going back?"

"Yeah, with Ben and that crew. They could use the extra hand, and I know a thing or two about electronics," she batted her dark bangs out of her face.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in Okavango."

"I reckon you will, Dekko, I reckon you will," Isobel pushed the last round into the magazine.

-------------------

"So," Kain deadpanned, "just you and me, Kessler."

Maia walked up to the hatch. "Can it, Delacroix." she swallowed hard.

"Sure is high up," Kain deadpanned again, "hope my parachute opens."

Maia glared, "You're full of shit Kain. I've got you all figured out. I know why you're doing this."

"Oh? Do tell."

"You're worried about your friends. Sam's off his game. I've seen the looks you and the Doc exchange when he starts talking about taking prisoners and winging the opposition. So you hope this job will 'fix' him. Gade's not telling you everything about Raleigh, and about his life in general. So you're hoping to re-establish some trust with him. The Doc," Maia grinned, "has to be shown that he's capable of doing good. Even for selfish reasons, doing good is still better than not. As for me..."

Kain listened, stone-faced, waiting patiently.

"Well, I'm not sure why you're worried about me."

Kain looked out of the open hatch. The wind picked up, and the floater's engines compensated.

"I'm hoping to convince you that we're more than cold-blooded killers. I aim to demonstrate that we're just regular, run of the mill, Big Damn Heroes."

He jumped.

Maia sighed, "That's what I was worried about."

She jumped.

-------------------

Andy Pearl sat back at his desk. He couldn't suppress a grin.

"They're going to assassinate Emir Thoras."

He let the thought roll around in his mind to shake out the cobwebs. Dealing with Kain always made him smile.

The data he had didn't fully substantiate the claim, it was all circumstantial, and he didn't know how they'd make the attempt, but when it came to Kain and his associates, Andy knew to trust the latent insanity masquerading as instinct:

They had met up with Basalite agents, snuck into the Palace, freed their friends, and then headed straight for the Boy-Emir's camp. There, they had met with the Emir, evaded surveillance for most of their sojourn in the mountains, and then had their confirmed last sighting in Cimmaro. Knowing Delacroix and Chambers, they had something big in their sights. This was it.

"They're going after Thoras." Pearl was certain of it.

No matter what he thought of the ESE, Thoras, or Kain, as SRID field director for the ESE, he knew that Okavango was too valuable to allow it to join the rebellion in Basal and Bangueleu. Andy Pearl just couldn't let it happen.

He dialed a number.

"Yes, it's Pearl. Activate our friends in Okavango, tell them to watch the Palace. There will be an attempt on the Emir's life." He paused. "They'll be professionals."

Wordslingin'

This week's session of Heavy Gear sees Our Heroes (tm) leaving the swamps of Okavango... only to plot our return to assassinate the Emir. Everyone who thought we were crazy before, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

[Sometimes, answers depend on how you ask the question.]
Matt: "Is it working?"
Josh the GM: "It's not not working."

Would you like to know more?

Well if he doesn't, he's no friend of mine

They all stood there quietly. Convincing Emir Bhravo to take action was clearly not going as well as they had hoped. Even Kain, with his to-the-point discussion of risk vs. gain, wasn't helping. The Emir was unwilling to risk the lives of his people.
Gade understood the Emir's feelings: the innocent far too often die for the not-always-greater cause. But the Emir must understand... There is a difference when choice and faith are involved.

This disguise of Kain's was good: a monk named Inigo of the Order of the Blue Crescent (how the painted-on blue crescent tattoo on his forehead wasn’t running made Gade wonder about the makeup of the paint), under a vow of silence. But how could Gade convince the Emir that his people have faith in him? It was a hopeless cause, unless...

Amidst the silence Gade walked to the center of the tent. I hope this works, Gade thought as he started to move. His muscles were still sore from his wounds, but he was more worried about getting the message across...
---
The man and his dawg companion stood near the cliff face. They were both hungry and tired from their journey. The man knew his family was just another day’s travel down into the valley. The man had to travel far, but he finally managed to find the seeds to replant his garden. He and his family would have one last harvest before the spring drought.

Only now a pack lizard lay between him and his loved ones.
It was a big beast, the biggest lizard the man ever saw. For three days the man and his dawg had tried to find a way around, to avoid a confrontation. But it was useless. This was the only path into the valley. Otherwise the man would not make it in time for planting.

Left with no other option, the man knew he must confront this enemy. The beast was even bigger up close, but the man knew the importance of his actions. In-and-out, dodge-and-weave, the man attacked with his makeshift spear in hand. The dawg barked, drawing the beast away so the man could get a thrust in with his weapon.
Suddenly the pack lizard caught the man in his tracks, and pinned him to the ground. One quick strike and it would be over. But the man's dawg leaped at the beast, biting down on its throat, tearing out chunk after chunk. The beast reeled and swung the dawg side-to-side, until finally throwing the mutt over the edge of the cliff. But by then the beast’s hour was up, as it turned to see the man at the ready. He drove his spear up into the beast and it died.

His walk down the cliff side was a slow one, he hurt from where the beasts teeth got him, but soon he would be with his family. Along the way he came upon the body of his companion. If not for his faithful dawg, the man would have been killed, and his family would starve. A tear ran down his cheek, but a smile crept across his face. His companion was gone, but the man and his family would live. And live they would, to honor the sacrifice his companion made.
---
Emir Bhravo and his councilor Girard stood there flabbergasted. But after not too long the Emir's face changed to a simple smile, he nodded and thanked Gade for the display.

Kain leaned in close to Tom and muttered, “You know, I think this vow of silence was the best thing to ever happen to him.”

Manufacturing consent

Maia was flushed, her jaw still tightly clenched and her arms crossed tightly across her chest in defiance and maybe a hint of trepidation. She had just stood up to Kain, releasing all her acrimony, venting weeks of fear and doubt, exposing all she perceived as hypocrisy and amorality that had been festered inside her quietly. Until now.

‘Good’ Tom thought to himself. He had feared for some time that she was a weak link in their group. Since taking her on in Basal she had proved useful enough to warrant his professional abduction of her person, but as their mission changed and their motivations vacillated it became harder and harder to gage how well she was still working with the group as opposed to being bound to it by contrition and happenstance: she was essentially their prisoner.

Tom was uncomfortable with her ambiguous state, it posed a security threat - their survival depended on trust after all. On a less prosaic level it also made him uncomfortable, he always saw this team as bound by a common cause (or the occasional individual cause all the group could temporarily band together for.) The thought of one of them feeling coerced into participation made him uncomfortable. In fact, now that he really thought about it, it was abhorrent and he was sickened by the way he had been treating Maia since their got to Okavango.

Tom was fairly certain Kain had no such self recriminations, though he shared the practical assessment that a committed volunteer was far more reliable. It was therefore ironic that Kain had born the brunt of her outrage; Tom was guiltily silent in the corner of the tent during the exchange. She was one of them, or at least for the first time, it appeared as if she could become one. In standing up to Kain she made a declaration of independence and in browbeating an admission of his heartfelt motivations she put her self on an equal footing. Only the free can volunteer.

Kain left the tent to plan more details with Gade. Sam had a poker game to attend; Tom reminded himself that an old card shark like him had no business playing with amateurs and a kid, even a precocious and brilliant one. Tom didn’t play for fun, it was clinical with him and such a cold-hearted card game would be impolitic so early in their collaboration with the young Emir. Still, he felt left out. First guilt, now self pity, he hadn’t felt as many emotions in two weeks as he had now in as many minutes. He struggled to keep it from his face.

“Feel better?” He regretted the words as soon as they came out, he knew she would construe it as…

“Shove it doctor!”

‘Yeah’, he thought to himself, ‘should have seen that coming.’

---

“Common Kessler, we need to talk to Ben.”

She fell in step behind him as he left the tent. Once again he noted how she had changed in the last half hour. A few minutes later they found Ben, Jo, Teg and Peter in an adjacent tent where they had been ushered too during the private meeting with the Emir.

“Gentlemen, Josephina, we are a go. The Emir is on board and I guess more to the point so are Kain and I.”

“Took you long enough Tom, you didn’t use to be so hard to convince to do the right thing.”

Ben was jovial in his tone and it was meant as friendly admonition but it stabbed at Tom.

“Be that as it may, that leaves us with you lot and what to do with you?”

“What are you talking about Doc, we’re coming in with you to get the bastards!” spat Josephina.

“Damn right.” Teg seethed menacingly.

“Wrong. Like it or not - and its clear which way you lean - you are not medically fit for an opp like the one Kain is planning.”

The silence was a good sign, it meant they knew it, the daggers in their eyes on the other hand meant they had a ways to go towards accepting it.

“Which is why I’m tasking you guys with a second prong of the attack.”

“The tunnels?” Jo said with a mix of apprehension and forlorn hope.

“No, no combat, not conventional combat anyway. I’m putting you on psy-ops. Kain feels we need a popular uprising, in more way than one, to pull this off. So, in deference to minimizing casualties, we need overwhelming odds in our favour which means getting as much of the population out on the street as possible. We need to stir the redjacket’s nest.

“I’ve got a few ideas on how to initiate a propaganda war, taking the message and the image of Brhavo to his people. They need a saviour and we need them ready to save themselves. So I want your guys to bring the saviour to them.”

They exchanged glances, all of them forming a nexus on Ben, this subset’s sergeant. These four would either never part or never see each other again after this was all over. Ben took in their silent votes and turned to Tom.

“OK Doc, give us the details, we’re your team.”

Maia held back a respectful distance during the negotiations-come-rally. Putting him arm around her shoulder now, Tom brought her into the fold.

Tom launched into details about trideo apparitions of Brhavo appearing in small but public places across Okavango. How his words would be whispered in the streets and houses. Hacking into public networks, setting up concealed projectors, viral word of mouth, everything orchestrated to feel like a genuine grassroots epiphany until, it was the Doc’s hope, it took on a life of its own. His image would inspire myth and faith in every downtrodden corner of his city.

The idea was to reinvigorate the faith of the sajhalin in their ruler, to elevate him from a divinely mandated sovereign to a religious icon of leadership.

I'm going to Battalion to see if I can get some dirty movies...

Gade found Kain looking over the Dragonfly's controls. "Is it me, or is the Doc getting rougher with his exams?"

Kain looked up and then seemed to catch his words in his mouth. Maybe the scars are worse then he thought, if it gave Kain pause. “So,” Gade finished slipping on his tank top, “did I ever tell you about the guy in the place with the thing?”

“Well, I confess that I’m a little curious as to where you came from, out of the blue like that.” Kain's face slipped back neutral expression Gade was used to. “Not that I'm complaining, but you finding us like that was a little unexpected.”

“As I already told you, Bill informed me you guys were here in Okavango. Then I just followed the explosions.”

“Yes, well, what say you go over what happened to your chest. I suspect it'll be a little more interesting.”

“You, sir, have no idea.... After we left Basal, I knew we couldn't leave well enough alone, so I put the word out that I was looking to help. Some associates of Nigil Shirow contacted me with some potential work.” Gade flopped down in the copilot’s seat and put his feet up on the console.

“Turns out Emir Shirow is on the side of the people, and got word of a stock pile of weapons and supplies that could be put to use for the revolt. A big stock pile...holed up in some warehouse in Raleigh. Only problem was, unbeknown to us it, was being watched by the SRID. Everyone I brought with me died, including me, thanks to an agent with a shotgun....”

“Wait-- what do you mean, ‘even you’?”

“Well, as I mentioned: shotgun at close range. After that I pretty much blanked out, only to wake up later in some Raleigh Medical Center.” Gade took a moment to adjust the auto-pilot's course. “Turns out some SRID agents got brought back alive as well, only to die on the operating table. I swapped charts and snuck out. Once I got my hands on a phone I contacted Bill to find you guys. As it happens SRID believes their agent went AWOL and I got marked as dead. It's gonna be fun showing them otherwise.”

“So let me get this straight: The SRID is watching a stockpile of weapons, thinks you are dead, and probably doubts our knowledge of everything?”

“Pretty much”

“Heh,” Kain leaned back in his chair. “I suppose we'll have to mention to the others why you should remain dead. And you’ll need a disguise of some sort…. And tell me--what's in the warehouse?”

“Ah, you'll like this part....”

Postcard - Glad I'm not there

Grandfather's whereabouts are unknown at this time.  To avoid any exposure, gift is a do-it-yourself project, including delivery. 

Grandfather had many Friends in the Solar System, but those Friends are long gone.  Some of them had Acquaintances who still live in the Solar System.  Suggest finding Acquaintances, and asking about Friends.  Don't ask about Grandfather.

Venice is nice this time of cycle. If you bring Messiah there, watch out for Snakes.  They will bite.

After the Messiah is in Venice, he will have to ask the Wreck for his Birth Certificate.  Access to other Birth Certificates might be possible then.

>>>>>ENCRYPT? Y/N<<<<<

>>>Y

>>>>>UPLOAD? Y/N<<<<<

>>>Y

Watching the horizon

Kain sat at the controls of the Dragonfly they had stolen in Okavango.  The Doc had finally talked Gade into going to the cargo bay for a once-over.  Kain assumed that the severity of the wound Gade had taken was delaying the pilot's turn.  Only when Kain had promised not to touch anything, "especially not the yoke!", had their erstwhile pilot relented to the Doc's insistence.

It was pretty damned unfair, being told not to fiddle with stuff by Gade.

So the ship was now in the care of the reliable, if mildly eccentric, auto-pilot.  She had a tendency to yaw slightly to the left before abruptly compensating.  Gade had said this would result in a slight diminishing of her maximum range, but would not bring them materially off-course.  It wasn’t doing anything for Kessler’s motion sickness.

Kain was grateful for the time alone; it gave him time to think about the next phase of operations.

Teg, Ben, Jo, and Peter were all pretty banged up, and could really use some rest.  The Doc would give him a more accurate prognosis, but Kain estimated that at least a week of serious rest was necessary, and even then, he figured they'd only be at 80% capacity, and Peter at 70%--60%, if that nasty bruise below his ribs was an internal bleed.

That left himself, Sam, and Chambers to do the heavy lifting.  And Sam wasn’t himself, lately.  Gone was the cheery killer from the old days.  Some switch appeared to have been tripped in his mind, resulting in an inconvenient reluctance to kill.  Kain was all for prisoners, but this "winging" was getting ridiculous.

Plus Gade, of course.  His appearance was a happy stroke of fortune.  He seemed mobile, if tender, so Kain slotted him in at 90%.

And then there was Kessler.  Her resentment was obvious; she’d experienced far more in the past week than she’d signed on for back in Basal.  She could hardly be blamed for a lack of enthusiasm;  after all, her position in the team was closer to hostage than member.  There was a 50% chance that she would slip away as soon as they reached Cimmaro.  Her curiosity might be enough to keep her around, and Kain planned to leverage it with an appeal to her worker sensibilities.  Still, odds were even that she'd disappear as soon as she could.

He turned over the possibility that she was somehow mixed up with the other side; "forgetting" a tracking device, a tracking device the likes of which she was supposed to be scanning to detect, was a serious demerit in the credibility calculation.  But she had seemed genuinely chagrined, embarrassed, and apologetic.  Further, it pushed the limits of reasonable improbability to accept that he and Chambers had somehow been maneuvered into hiring her on in Basal.  It would be a shame to throw her out of the plane and later discover her complete innocence.

Perhaps a conversation was in order.  He mentally added that to the to-do list.

Assuming that things with Bhravo went as anticipated, Kain expected that the team would be returning to Okavango to eliminate Thoras and bring Brhavo to power.  The benefits of such an action politically were manifest, as were the liabilities.  All in all, it did seem like the best thing to do, given the circumstances.

That only left the how of it.

Since fleeing from the palace, Kain had been turning over and over in his mind the moment when he swung his leg over the side of the wall, abandoning the secondary objective.  He had felt strangely emptied, as if leaving the one thing undone was a sin.  A crime against Mars.

He'd had a flash of inspiration when they were all squeezed into that dank basement, waiting for the search to pass them by.  He knew how they could go back in and eliminate the emir.

A three way assault--over, under, and around.

A small strike squad would infiltrate the palace from the air, either employing paragliders, or making a HALO jump, to get onto the tower housing the Emir.  Once in place, a second team would initiate an assault through the tunnel system below the palace.  Casualties would be high there, given that Thoras had undoubtedly located the submerged entry way, but the attack would draw troops down.

The third wave was Kain's favourite part, in which the body politic exerted its might.  A mass uprising around the city would eliminate the Emirate guard outside the palace, and assault the walls of the palace, headed by the Boy Emir, Rafael Brahvo.  This double strain on the palace's defenders should provide the distraction required for the strike team to find and assassinate Thoras.

Kain went over the timeline.

They would reach Brhavo the next day.  It should take no more than 3 days to get Ben close enough to convince the Boy to seize his own city.  That left 10 days to get to Okavango in time for the new moon.  Gade said his side trip was to retrieve supplies for the defenders of Basal; one day to travel to wherever the supplies were, a week to train the para team and prepare to grab the supplies, and 3 days to return to Okavango with the supplies and storm the palace.

That actually left 2 days more than Kain figured they really needed.  But wiggle room was nice.

He'd have to get Bill on hiring the Daks right away.  Kessler said she had a sat-link ready to go, so that would do.

Now he just had to practice keeping a straight face for the part where he told Chambers that he wanted a mini-sub from Baja for the tunnel op....

Kain smiled as he looked at the chrono.  If he knew Gade, the grubby mechanic would be returning any time to tell him a few more details about his own little side mission.