Building the Collateral - 87 - Early Access (Patreon)

Once she’d woken up with a start and finished purging the garbage intoxication data from her systems, Kishi took a proper look then at the task before her and realized the significant challenge that it was. One that she swiftly realized was truly a proper test for an educator of her caliber, making it all the more welcomed. At last, a proper chance for her to struggle, thrive, and emerge with even more experience behind her.

Potential colleague and rival not withstanding that is, but well. She’ll cross that bridge when she gets there [and deal with the headache].

For the moment, as corporate technicians prepped her casket for transfer, Kishi focused on her own preparations. The main focus was especially on learning about her technical new boss, assuming everything went well and she was granted a position of working beneath him. So in a way, this research also doubled as readying herself for the equivalent of a job interview.

Already that felt nice, as the Premier-General was apparently a very complicated person according to the omninet. It was quite an intriguing contrast to her own prior work experiences.

The SSC NHP wasn’t a stranger to sometimes working with puppet regimes or authoritarian establishments that were supported by Smith-Shimano Corpo. While perhaps in her earlier iterations [and some Cycles younger], she might have protested the idea of working with such but the uncomfortable truth was that Union could not be everywhere. Neither could the SSC.

What they could at least do was insist on making sure whatever they provided was always of the highest quality, which hopefully would trickle down to whatever local tyrant they supported. A vain and somewhat indulgent dictator could at least be convinced the image of their people reflected upon themselves too- hence a need to improve the livelihood of ‘lessers.’ It was the sort of quiet, insidious whispering that the megacorporation liked, imposing their will without seemingly lifting a hand themselves.

House Hessin, the previous regime of Cavia, had seemed like a prime candidate for such an operation in time if the psychological analysis of the previous ruler seemed to be any indication. Had Kishi been sent then as part of an effort to bring them into line under the SSC, she was under no such illusion that her curriculum would have needed to feature a mandatory ‘loyalty’ segment for pushing propaganda onto children.

Ugh. The worst part would have been having to go along with it too for the megacorporation’s interest, and admittedly, she was no stranger to it. Plenty of regimes featured it, so in a way, she’d been quietly filing such under ‘local history’ lessons to mask the burden.

The fact that she probably wouldn’t have to do so when she observed how Moores talked was…unusual. On one hand, he seemed to be that typical ruthless military officer, ready to command those in service to perish for a cause he deemed worth it. He’d even gone so far as to leverage public threat against those gangs onboard the rogue station, so bold and confident in his approach that the idea of discretion didn’t seem cross his mind. Combined with the quite recent declaration of war against that very same station to conquer it too, Kishi’s initial assessment was to immediately file him as just yet one of many other warlords.

Yet that was only when one looked at the most recent news, the sort which usually was most bombastic and eye-catching for the sake of the initial headline. Something that any teacher worth their salt, of flesh or data, could recognize and move on to alternative sourcing.

In which case, the picture of the man grew quite muddied. For every hostility declared, he also quietly moved pieces related to public charity. Every battle mentioned, a movement ready to catch the pieces as they fell. Slowly, Kishi was realizing that while clearly impassioned by the moment, Moores still also appeared to look ahead to the next step already. Something that demonstrated a statesman behind the conqueror.

Even more befuddling was how he never seemed to properly revel in this. His speeches, they fixated on the appeal to the emotional while letting logic play out in the background. It’d taken a few documents full of notes before Kishi realized what he was doing. He was a man who didn’t just acknowledge the two factors of building a lasting rule, but had clearly mastered them.

Fear and love.

A classic Karrakin school of thought, based off some philosophies originating from Cradle. To become so fearsome that the alternative was love. Within the Trade Baronies, the houses spent no small expense in demonstrating their military might- all the while quietly building up their own economy behind. Whilst a rival power like Harrison Armory might climb up to the roofs to shout about their deeds, that entrenched nobility would only simply declare their intent and then demonstrate it.

Indeed, it seemed almost to be like Moores’ preferred style of guile. He presented himself as a fierce warrior to intimidate those who would do seek to do wrong- but behind that mask, there appeared to be an almost guiding figure whom his adopted people sung praise of. They didn’t care about outsider opinion, about if the man they followed was possibly on Union’s most-wanted list. Instead, they almost seemed to revel in having such a terrifying individual lead them to frontiers others wouldn’t dare.

[he is Feared because he is Loved because he is Feared]

That panned out into being a rather nasty recursive headache that did afflict Kishi for a bit, distracting her for a good bit of the trip. It even took her attention off the presence of that annoying [bugger], meaning that the voyage could almost described as…pleasant. A term she’d never imagined being used whenever they were around.

So truth be told, she was a little unprepared when the mission of charity reached Cavia. But well, there should at least be some time before landing, then introductions- Oh? A server invitation?

Hmm. The docket had warned about possible HORUS presence, but this bore the local administration codes. Kishi warily eyed it, checked the authentication, then tentatively reached out with the connection request to the digital address.

Port access was granted and she found herself in an…office, it would seem. One that was quite utilitarian, definitely indicating some sort of military service to the one who ran it. Which made sense, given the other’s origins. “Greetings.” Even though she was a civilian, the uniformed NHP gave a brief salute. “I am Veronica, personal adjutant of Commander Moores. This is my server.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Kishi respectfully returned, bowing her head slightly. “It is a nice server. Quite new, if I’m not mistaken?”

A flicker of something like exasperation flashed through Veronica’s expression. “Yes. It is something I have been recently allocated to better handle matters pertaining to my duties. As well as being something like a proper…reception space for our ilk.”

Again, another reminder that behind the warlord with many enemies was a statesman with very loyal subordinates. Then her attention to drawn to the rest of the statement. “Is it really that common an occurrence? I mean, we at Smith-Shimano Corpo do have a dedicated server for us, but that is meant to service across multiple subsidies. Does Cavia really have such a population worthy of the investment.”

“Not particularly, according to the numbers,” conceded Veronica with a shrug. “However, the frequency is quite high in comparison, what with the Director of Economics oft attending with petition or advisement. Kaldun has mentioned that it is much more easier for him to access and parse data once I allocated an office space for him on the server.

“Considering we paid a greatly reduced cost for the equipment too, it is well-worth it.”

“Is it refurbished? I don’t see signs of such.”

“The details of its acquisition are purposefully vague,” Veronica mechanically responded before sighing. “Please direct further questions to the next connecting visitor.”

Kishi blinked, then blanched when she [felt] the incoming stream. It wasn’t like a typical NHP that was ferrying data back and forth between local digital infrastructure within the cyberspace- this one felt like it came from both far way, yet so near at the same time. An impossible paradox, an existence which defied understanding, but somehow yet also still fit within them.

She’d felt such a presence before and readied her firewalls, earning a slow blink from Veronica. It was matched by the latest arrival too as he appeared and noticed Kishi’s wariness. “Oh dear. I appear to have accidentally interrupted something.”

“Calm down,” stressed the SSC NHP, hoping she wasn’t too late. “Cycle your processors.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re suffering a cascade, but you can control it.” Her voice was slightly quivering. “Just focus on your shackles, feel them working-”

The man snapped his fingers in realization, something that made her flinch. “Ah. You’ve met an eidolon before, haven’t you? I’m sorry about bringing up those sour memories,” he told with a slight incline of his head. “But while I am quite close to them, rest assured I am in control. See?”

He pointed to the remaining shackle upon his attire and Kishi froze, trying to understand. It was then Veronica finally intervened, delivering a very much needed introduction. “This is Jean. Our HORUS affiliate and the one who supplied us with quite cheap infrastructure.”

“Well, not directly so. I just poked about and found spare hardware that we weren’t using.” He paused. “Meaning that perhaps it was intended all along.”

“Perhaps,” Veronica said in a tone that seemed to hint at a recurring argument. “In any case, you have my word that Jean is very much in control of himself. Else, he would not be able to masterfully utilize a metavault even as it collapsed about.”

Finally, Kishi accepted that there was something indeed a teacher could still learn and relaxed, dropping her defensive programs. “My apologies for the hostility,” she honestly told. “It…had been a very unfortunate incident on a shared server space. One that many of my colleague and I suffered a truly terrible experience from.”

“Yes, a cascade is never a gentle thing. That would explain the discomfort around me, a lares.” He paused briefly. “I suppose that it is simply another reason why I shan’t be staying long after. This is more of a courtesy call to Miss Veronica.”

“Would it happen to regard the prodding for camera access that is currently happening within the building?” she dryly remarked, to which Jean chuckled and nodded. “Please simply remind Miss 1un4 that these scenes are not to be broadcast. I trust she understands discretion.”

“She will, I will make sure of it,” he promised, form already dissolving. At the last moment, the lares seemed to have thought of something and waved to Kishi. “Next time, I’ll bring along a little apology for scaring you so. I hope we can get along in spite of that rough introduction.”

That sounded interesting, albeit a little terrifying. But his intentions seemed [good]. So she supposed that she should be worrying about the upcoming meeting instead.

I prepared myself when the projector activated, only to let out a slight sigh instead when a certain digital avatar appeared instead. “Luna. I don’t believe that this meeting concerns you. It’s a strictly internal Cavia affair.”

“Like that’ll stop me!” the vtuber cackled before waggling her hands. “Besides, it sounds like you’re taking on SSC personnel. Which is hardly so internal, don’t ya think!”

“It’s just a chat for now. Nothing has been determined yet.”

“You say that, but that’s how it went with Kaldun too, didn’t it? Speaking of which.” She gestured over to the scowling Erica and raised her eyebrow. “Ain’t she an outsider too?”

“I’m here in my official capacity as Director,” the Pyre Witch groused, glaring back at the Red Hare. “Harrison Armory has a right to keep an eye out for its distant cousins of sorts, as the Cavia Committee can be tentatively labeled a fellow successor to SecComm now.” Oh yeah, just rub that in why don’t you? But given she’d also been the first of the big players to support the formation of our little Diasporan state, she deserved at least a say in these interviews.

And by her apparent reckoning, so did Luna as well. “Hey, we were the ones who helped you ‘acquire’ that big fat space station!” she exclaimed. “I think that being allowed in as an observer’s the least that’s owed to us HORUS!”

...Annoyingly, she did have a point there. Port Barbarus was a significant addition, being an orbital gateway between Cavia and the rest of the galaxy. It’d also honestly serve as a test of how suited our ways could perhaps reach others, without the quite daunting prospect that was needing to fret about significant interstellar travel.

Plus, it also helped keep Harrison Armory’s influence in check. So really, the smart choice was to simply sigh and roll with it. “Very well, but please do refrain from trying to scare or intimidate the candidates.” Then, sensing the smugness radiating from the other, I extended my request. “Both of you, please. I’m not going to drive away Smith-Shimano Corpo simply so you two only have to compete with one another.”

That earned grumbling from Erica and Luna alike, probably uniting them both against me. At which point, I really only had one ally left present, in the flesh at least. One who was definitely quite out of place here, when I looked her way with a raised eyebrow. “Morgan. Is there a reason why you’re here?”

“Ah? Well, um…” My niece fidgeted a bit before confessing her reason. “I, er, got bored.”

“Really? Whatever happened to Ichigo?”

Now she made a face that I thought she’d never make: disgust. For a moment, I feared that the two had a falling out, only for my expectations to be circumvented with her explanation. “She’s watching that mech show with everybody else. You know, the one from Union that has that really silly title.”

It was Erica who blinked, then groaned in conjunction. “Oh dammit. CBS affiliates started airing that junk?”

“Yeppp.” Luna joined in with a drawl. “It’s a true fu- freaking tragedy. The next generation, poisoned by slop.”

I blankly stared at the three lancers suddenly commiserating and united in their apparent distaste of a specific piece of media, not at all comprehending. So I hesitantly asked for clarification. “This show, what’s so bad about it? Surely if it was that terrible, our Director of Culture would not being allowing it to air.”

“It’s not…bad, per say,” Erica deigned to enlighten me with, rubbing at her face with a hand. “It’s just horribly, terribly… voiced.”

“How? What is it even about?”

“Mechs.”

“It’s an animated show about frames duking it out,” further revealed Luna. “Normally, that’s probably the most inoffensive thing out there. Nobody in this galaxy is ever going to say no to a good scrap fight.”

“Until you actually hear how the characters talk,” Morgan grumbled. “It’s so…cheesy! They all say things that make me want to scream and bury my head in a pillow.”

“Preach, sib! It’s super, duper cringe!”

“And the producers have the gall to say that’s how ‘experienced’ pilots act. Makes for a pretty lame bar joke, in my opinion.” Erica clicked her tongue loudly. “That’s what it is by the by, a comedy poking fun at lancers. It just…hits differently when you’re apparently part of the group they’re joking about.”

“Ichigo likes it because she knows it’s stupid and annoys me,” further complained my relative with a slight skulk. “Says that she’ll paint a decal from the show on my next frame to just rile me up.”

“Heh.” The most experienced of them gave a short bark. “Guess that shows how close you two still are despite disagreements in taste.”

“Yeah, I don’t begrudge her for liking it. I just can’t watch it with her without feeling like I want to punch stuff, which would be going too far.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time this advertising agency tried to sponsor me to do a watch-a-long? It was really awkward.”

Huh. Talk about finding something that lancers hate even more that bad guys.

“I…see.” That was all I could offer to their joint suffering. I mean, it wasn’t like I could just outlaw something if it was bad, especially when it was apparently meant to be. But I suppose the least I could do was offer a safe haven from cheesy television for my niece, in lieu of any other activity.

Was it risky to mix work and family? Given how I currently had three ace pilots in the same room as me, I think I crossed that threshold of danger long ago.