Randolph Lalonde - Fracture

"Good morning."

"You look like you've got something on your mind."

"Straight to it. You've been in the military too long."

Oz shrugged. "Guilty as charged. You can take the malcontent out of the military but you'll never get the military out of the malcontent. "

The pair watched as seven two seater Uriel starfighters flew ahead of the Triton in formation along the edge of the asteroid field. They were impressive ships, with eight engine pods and two main bidirectional thrusters. Small gunships in their own right, capable of carrying a vast array of weaponry as well as modules specialized for extra power, wormhole generation, rescue, troop delivery and many other purposes. They looked on silently as they disappeared from sight. "What do you think of Triton?" Jake asked as he used his command unit to cancel all fabrication and ordered the staff to wake immediately and begin producing heavily armoured gravity outfits. They would fit over the crew's regular vacsuits and compensate for extreme environmental conditions. He added a new design as he completed the order; a Triton skull would be printed on the protective plates mounted on the suit's faces.

"The ship is incredible. She puts everything I've seen to shame. Your people have done a good job at getting her in shape."

"What about her people? What do you think of her crew?"

"Aside from a few who've found their way to the brig, they've fallen in line. Most seem to like what they're doing well enough, whoever doesn't is offered the opportunity to train for something else and try qualifying. A lot of them follow through. A few of them are still a bit of a mess, but there's a chain of command, people are falling in line. Why do you ask?"

"I've lost objectivity. They're refugees to me Oz, and I have trouble sending people I'm trying to protect into battle."

"It happens."

"Ever happen to you?"

Oz thought a moment before answering. "I got to know the crew on the Roi De Ceil very well, Jake. Every time we took on a Vindyne ship there was a chance some of us would be killed. We got better at our jobs as time went by, but those renegade captains got more desperate. Some of them fought us until there was nothing left for the boarding teams."

"For Vindyne? I've never seen a more soulless corp."

"That's what I thought at first. Then I realized they were fighting for the way of life Vindyne provided. Their ships didn't look like much compared to what we were running. Close quarters, thin hulls, few creature comforts, but they were more secure than being on the ground. Vindyne controlled systems were collapsing, crime bosses were becoming barons. Sheriffs were becoming Presidents, and civil wars were breaking out everywhere. Lorander managed to take control on a few worlds, so life got better there, but that still left hundreds of major cities, worlds, and stations without an upper government. People left aboard ships had weapons, structure, leadership and mobility. They took what they could and moved on unless their Captain had some misguided idea of raiding colonies or taking territory for themselves. A lot of them did. For a while we were the ones who were supposed to stand in their way. When the fighting got too hot, when Vindyne territory had really gone to hell, Freeground ships were relegated to keeping a lane of retreat protected for the few refugee ships that were cleared to enter our territory. You wouldn't believe how many former Vindyne ships tried to sneak or fight their way through."

"Now we're the renegades."

"Chief Grady doesn't think so. He calls Triton a city. After spending the night in one of the botanical gallery apartments I'm starting to agree. I woke up to an artificial pre-dawn so convincing I thought I was on a planet somewhere. Now I'm here, in an infirmary so well built it looks more like a full on hospital. Thanks to these," he gestured at the display, "it feels like there are windows everywhere, more like we're walking from one tower to the next on some sort of tall space station. Most people feel at home here now. They have full time jobs, food rations, credits for extra materialization shopping, neighbours and friends. It's not all sunshine and smooth sailing, Security Chief Vega conducted her first raid on black market trading a few days ago, but things are pretty good."

"I heard about that. We're putting that bunch off at the next port."

"Good, I was wondering what you'd decided. There was nothing on report."

"It was Stephanie's suggestion. She thought punishing them aboard would be a blow to morale."

"Getting put off is bad enough. It's hell out there."

Jake nodded and sighed. "How do you feel about being aboard?"

Oz looked at Jake. His black and crimson vacsuit and long coat made him an imposing figure. His expression was difficult to read. There was a great deal the man wasn't saying, whatever he had to express would come at his own pace. "Honest? I'd rather be no where else. Taking control of off ship operations is a perfect fit, even in simulations. Minh, Ayan and Jason are the same way. They've all found their places, though I suspect Ayan wants something more, I don't think she knows what yet."

"Having you all here has been surreal. I'm not used to having people who know what they're doing so well."

"What about Finn, Ashley, Stephanie or Liam?"

"They're fantastic, but all still learning. If they're not learning their jobs, they're learning how to work with me or the other way around."

"But with us we just take a post and work it." Oz nodded. "We're all military, Jake. Not just military, but from the same military, and being here has a little of the same spirit as the First Light."

"Not the same though."

"No, not the same. We've all been places, seen a few new things, had more seasoning. Where's this going Jake?"

"We're going into combat. Not after repairs. Today."

"Something wrong with Alice's destination?"

"Raiders. They're attacking Ossimi station right now according to the message we received right before emerging."

"There's no way Alice could have known that when she programmed the course in two weeks ago."

"You're right. According to the logs on the Clever Dream it was the perfect place to stop for repairs, raw materials and a bit of trade. Even has an obscuring field protecting the entire centre of the asteroid field. Pretty well established."

"The raiding party must be huge."

"They're slavers, running at least one large slave ship, a carrier called the Palamo."

Oz sucked air in through his teeth, cringing a little. "Complicated. I've never run into this."

"I have, but I've never had the means to do anything about it. This is going to be hard, very hard. We can't tell anyone they're slaves. If we do, they'll pull punches during the initial fight and it'll get people killed."

Oz thought for a moment. "I don't see any way around it. You're right. Is there anything in particular I should know about?"

"First thing; the dead man's switch is normally an urban myth. No one wants their entire stable or crew of slaves to die if they're put into stasis or out of commission for a minute."

"That makes sense."

Jake hesitated before continuing. When he did so it was in a whisper; "Most of these outfits have a crude version of a Vindyne chemical remote destruct system built into their slave's implants."

"You mean they can turn their slaves into explosives?"

"Exactly. You don't find that much in higher class stock. Ashley didn't have one because she was considered well bred, but in this kind of crew, in raiders…"

"They're more likely to be used as weapons if they're cornered. We have to tell someone else about this. The boarding captains at least."

"No. If they have extra sympathy while they're in the fight they might hesitate when they have to make difficult decisions. You know it just as well as I do."