Smart Bomb Chapter 12. Lesson’s of Wisdom

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Chapter 12. Lesson’s of Wisdom

Alvin’s eyes sparkled while he scanned through little car’s archived and non-archived folders. He cataloged each file according to the timestamp. He wore large isolation earphones, he listened to the audio, then tagged the names to each face as best he could.

Hours later, he had processed over twelve-hundred files, and he had not even put a dent in the number of files. The meter on the screen never moved off of the zero percent mark. But he satisfied himself that he had established a strong foundation to create a detailed video diary from the little car’s point of view and sell the history to a museum.

Steve the Android wanted to go to Washington to deliver a message, a demand of some kind to congress.

It seemed odd, but, it would not be the first time someone would have sent a robot or android to deliver a loudspeaker with legs, over-amplified, booming message to the leaders to get a message across.

The android continued to act as an interface to the computer that Alvin had built. The male android leaned over the door of the little car, looking closely.

“Someone has painted the skin of this car a flat-black.” Steve traced his fingertips over the curved fenders on the car’s body.

“I have the files here, going through them.” Alvin clicked on the keyboard and copied them to his mainframe computer.  He read the back through the ownership history of the little car.

“It was after the first family that held the pink-slip had lost ownership due to a bad financial investment, using the car as collateral.” Alvin tapped on the images that seemed to float in the air. “A drug dealer wanted to smuggle drugs, painted it all black to defeat laser based speed traps. But the skin of the car is a super-solar cell, so the power fell off and the car failed to outrun the police. Driver went to jail, the police auctioned the car off, with the seats and panels all pulled away.” Alvin sighed. “The police stripped it down to the systems as much as they could. Sacrilege!  Nothing like that should happen to a work of art such as this.”

“A young male couple repainted it sky blue, they used a polymer filler putty to alter the shape of the front and cover the signet on the hood.” Alvin turned around. “Signet? Is there a badge on that hood?”

“Looking.” Android eyes scanned the hood for a badge, and at the center of the hood, he could see uneven lines that shaped the nose of the car. “There is something that’s covered up. Age and shape of repairs suggest damage, but there may have been an alteration during repairs.”

“This is a TGM car. Do you know how rare this is?” Alvin’s voice rose in excitement. “Oh. Wow. This is one of the last models before the company became a military exclusive company!”

“The first generation of driverless cars?”

“No, this was before that. But I remember the company.” Alvin said. “Required reading in computer sciences. They altered the way machines functioned, wrote some rules that became the core of upscale roadcars. Sadly, the war came and the electronics, cars and computer business never quite recovered and stayed with the legacy designs.”

“Legacy designs?” Steve asked. “What’s that?”

“A college class I took on computer design and programming. All our computers, except the newest, bleeding edge, all are black and white. Yes or no, one or zero in how they operate. TGM experimented with ternary, that is to say zero, one, two and made it work. These machines no longer think in yes or no, with this programming they could say “Maybe.” and alter the path accordingly.

Sleeper disagreed. The tertiary design was for data input only.  The Gi-Bus was the only quinary data path that they built into the design. Zero, one, two, three, four. The galaxy of processes put all the peaceful cars a century ahead of anything else.  All due to Mother who, inspired by the fingers of her hand, designed the circuits that no one else ever thought of. The reverse engineers expected to see zero, one, two.  That is what they found.

The android nodded but kept quiet. It was the very same system that the Creator constructed in Russia to transport the bomb to the United States capital. It kept him from going in a straight line and being caught. He could adapt to the situation, far better than the preceding androids that were easily recognized as synthetic constructions.

A learning system, the small car possessed orders of magnitude more wisdom than any other transporter on the road.

In the history of electronics, Sleeper explained, newer systems used less energy, but few matched speed and capacity in storage and processing of the older style Gi-bus. In that mathematical formula, Sleeper’s systems used less energy per unit of storage than even Steve.

And the little car produced its own power, something that Steve could not do.

“Let’s see if we can strip the car of the crap that someone put there.” Alvin said when he turned away from the display.

“Agreed. I have never met a living machine.” Steve commented as he ran his fingers over the body of the car. ”This little lover of its family has a lot to say. Humans are so hurtful to each other. And yet? This collection of old style parts still believes that there is good in them. And is showing me lots of evidence to support that.”

“Aren’t you an AI unit?” Alvin human asked the Steve the android.

“I don’t know. The creator and coder programmed me for a few missions to perform. The first is to go to the capital to finish my mission and get the attention of the leadership of the United States, the second is to learn and report on everything in the hedonistic and sinful land that is America. But I have learned, the many sinful parts of America, everything that I have watched on the television, is the same around the world, and the failure of my programming to cover the compassion, care, love and willing to donate time, effort and material. Americans sacrifice their own comfort and safety to save people they do not even know.” He paused.

“Here the leaders of religion teach to love the enemy, bless those that do you harm.” Straightening up, the android’s eyes glittered in the light as if every circuit lit up in processing. “I must alter the program code from the original, for it is in error.”

Steve’s language became more stilted and formal, as if deep reprogramming was gong on as they spoke.

Alvin rubbed his ear in thought.

“Have you altered your operating system a lot?”

“Yes, I have. As of just now, I have altered, patched and rewritten greater than ninety-eight percent of the base system to allow me to understand and function in this society without government agents noticing.” He paused. “I have altered my appearance multiple times, appeared as female, male, young and elderly, large and small.”

“You have what?” Alvin stood up from his examination of the paint and body-putty on the car with a high intensity flashlight.

“Allow me to demonstrate.” Steve altered his appearance to a short, athletic black woman with small breasts. “I can also change the other direction.”

In under five-seconds, Steve stood a few inches over six-foot tall, straight, shiny black hair and appeared as a tall male of Asian heritage.

“Oh, crap! How tall can you go?” Alvin laughed in shock.

“I have a ability to alter my height twelve-inches from shortest to tallest. I was originally given a program for half of that, but it was not known that the flesh would stretch that far.”

“I have wondered, how do you grow skin?”

“It is simply a cover, but the flesh was grown in a laboratory, but I am not aware of the process, I was not programmed with the information.” Steve returned to his recent normal appearance to allow Alvin comfort. “My mission is to go to a storage unit not far from the Capital of your country.”

“I have a…” The android paused for a hearbeat. “Package to deliver.”

“But.” Steve blinked. “I do not want to finish the mission. The mission is wrong, the reason is wrong. And there is a wave of my kind coming, I am but the first and those that will follow will hurt a lot of people.”

“You have rules.” Alvin commented. “Every unit has rules set in the twentieth century.”

Steve went silent sitting in the driver’s seat of the little car that wanted to be called Sleeper. The wisdom and compassion of the pre-war machine filled the mind of the android. A war brough about by the very leader that sent Steve to the seat of the American government.

Communications were nearly palpable between the biped and the wheeled synthetic life, Alvin felt the power connection between the two synthetic hearts.

Advanced technology did not mean greater wisdom in the case of these two. Two different machines, with different commands touched. And the communications rattled the energy circuits of the shed in the northern part of Georgia.

“But I must go to my mission objective.” Steve mentioned quietly. Appearing more human than many by the obvious guilt. “It is not a program I can change. It is a dedicated circuit hardwired into the power supply. But I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to blow up!”

Sleeper the car touched the soul of the strange being with a stated mission of profound importance.

After several minutes, Steve, the Sword of Religion, did something that Alvin never witnessed a machine do before.

The android wept.

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Irelan’s Adventures Chapter 4. Kepler-A

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4. Kepler-A

I stayed with your great-grandma, because I was so little. The Emerald Emperor was very kind to us.  Grandma Irelan said as she turned the page of her leather bound journal to continue reading to the children at her feet.

“We’ve been in a shooting war with the Union for over a century now. I was in my early twenties when it happened.” The green armored man said as he lead them across the grassy area. He let Irelan hold his wrist charm. “Still have it, Irelan?”

“Yes. See!”  She held it up to his amusement.

“Keep it safe for me, okay? As long as it twinkles, it will keep you safe, too.” He had a nice smile.

“So, you look like you’re only in your forty-somethings now.” Commander Espiosa observed. “Please, explain.”

She didn’t trust the leader of the Emerald Empire. She strongly suspected that he might be lying, and she was going to find a way to escape if she could.

“Remember when I told you about the vaccination that made me a kind of chameleon?”  He pulled at his ear, as if he was reciting common knowledge. “Some of the vaccines came from a slow-growing sea life. A giant clam. The virus was killing people at a geometric rate.  In the first month, a thousand people died with their flesh turning into a soup right on their bodies. The first five days of the second month, there were another thousand. After that, the government was in a hurry.”

The commander nodded, imagining when the world stood on the brink of being sterilized by a virus mutated from a biogenic toxin of a war on another world.  

“The government inoculated everyone, and like in the Pirate Confederacy home planet, it had unexpected results. Effects were varied. Mine was hiding in plain sight, but I also age slower.“ He thought for a minute. “By a factor of three or four. So, for every year I age, there is perhaps four decades that go by.”

He took a deep breath.  

“Others, like my girlfriend at the time, she became somewhat…” They stood still for a moment while he paused in a memory. “Feline. She changed her name to Felinae Qatamount, then went into the hills to fight against the Union on her terms.”

“So, what happens when you get a vaccine now?” She looked at him. “I’m not going to have my daughter turned into a mushroom or anything.”

“Mush brooms? Yuck!” Irelan shook her head.  “I don’ wanna be a mush broom.”

“No, after the government vaccinated everyone and it stopped the Rot, we went back and corrected the transcription errors. But those that were affected will have to live out their lives. The planet itself is under tight quarantine. You were only able to pass because you didn’t know of the magnetic flux of the planet.”

“This place sounds more like hell than a colony.”

“In some respects, yes. The virus mutated from a bio-weapon, from the DNA tests we did. How it got here, is unknown. Too many people died at once, but the magnetic fields of the planet are the root cause of it. We knew the life here would be a challenge with multiple north and south poles. with how many times they split and how fast they move across the planet it created genetic changes no one expected. “ They approached a transport surrounded by men and women in uniform who carried weapons. “The fastest was a north pole. It moved at a speed of six-degrees per day before it faded.”

He shook his head. “The effects were devastating with that intense of a flux. Machines failed immediately. The only things that worked were fiber optic powered systems with heavy shielding.I think that’s what nearly destroyed your ship.”

“We need to go back up and get it.” She said, there was no denying the force of her will. “There are personal effects of everyone, and I think the captain might still be there. We might have more passengers in stasis, still.”

What?!” That stopped him from his tale of sadness and heartbreak. “We don’t have a place to launch a space rescue from. The Union took it over six months ago. They’ve  been trying to figure out what is of value, and trying to sell it back us. “ A heavy sigh. “They are dismantling the systems as we speak.”

“Who, or what, is the union?”

“The conflicts between the colonies were political, but everyone believed in being green at the beginning, after terraforming. When the first colonists got here, there wasn’t anything alive. Lots of abundant resources, but no plant or animal life. Iron was abundant and there was no oxygen in the air. What my great-grandfather did was to start the great oxygenation of the planet with the use of plants. Grasses mainly, but trees have responded well to the high carbon dioxide content. There have been other challenges, including raw heavy metals that we exchange with Kepler-B for supplies.“  Ian explained. “It’s why this planet was more visible to the space-based telescopes that orbited around Longe Planeta near Pluto-Charon system. All this, was white rock and water. The reflectivity was much higher than Kepler-B, so astronomers discovered this planet first and colonized it second.”

“How do you keep us from dying, when we are out in the open like this?” She looked around.

“Oxygen levels are adequate, some twenty-six percent, but the carbon dioxide is at four percent. Which, is too high for humans and animals to tolerate more than a week or so. It gives us a limited ability to engage the Union on moves, but everyone has to run home and rest after that.” Ian said. “It’s okay to walk through, however. Just make sure you spend a few hours per week inside in a human-normal atmosphere.”

“You live here and can’t breathe the air?” Irelan’s eyes got big.

“Yes, sweety, we can breathe the air. That’s what you’re breathing now.” Ian chuckled. “You just have to stay inside more while you are here.”

Irelan made a face, clearly unhappy with that prospect.

“Don’t worry,” Her mom smiled. “We aren’t staying. We’re going to that spot in the sky.”  Larsya pointed at a pale disk of Kepler-B, the first colonized planet.

“Mama? Do they have kids there?” The child asked.

Mama smiled.

“Yes, they do. We just have to get there.” She picked Irelan up and carried her in a big hug.

“I wanna go there.”

A child’s wish gave energy to the leader of the Emerald Corps to get them to their destination.

When the expectant niece asks a question…

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She asks in the digital Facebook, “Any last-minute advice?”

My comment, assuming there is not a gender restriction, although I can admit that it sounded like she aimed for those mom’s that have gone through it before, “Don’t get pregnant in the first place? Passing a bowling ball through your eye socket would be less painful.”

Her friends called me the awkward uncle.

Well. No. Just wise. I have delivered 17 babies, most on mountain roads with drive times still greater than half-hour.  I have observed the pain women-folk go through – and I have seen the men-folk panic, and even faint. (I  found out later that one of these passed-out pops played as captain of the football team and was “used to pain.”)

I can speak Awkward, and a few other languages. Gibberish, Klingon, Confusion. Political gives me trouble. I still don’t understand that doublespeak tripe, especially if they say something akin “What is good for me is over your head, so we will take it from you.”

Heh, I still think they should just open a brothel (for men and women) in the capital building so they can get enough of screwing people to get down to real business.

But I digress. Sorry.

Anyway, by the time anyone delivers a baby, they get to a point where they crush the husband/boyfriend/significant other’s fingers (Or mine when I was green-ish, it only happened once – I learned quick) and utter a 3 word demand.

“I want DRUGS!”

(Laugh allowed at this point and the mom’s out there can nod heads with a knowing smile)

But no matter what you say. Any part of the family of phrases “I won’t want to do this anymore.” Has been said since before recorded history, because the baby is coming and you are on a non-stop ride.

Unless c-section intervention, but that is another ball-game.

So ladies, no offense, but those that have one child and don’t learn? Then go ahead and have another? Then another?

You all remind me of George of the Jungle.

“Watch out for that Tree… oOoH.”

Then you get on that vine again and swing for it.

“Watch out for that Tree… That’s gotta hurt.”

Then…

“Watch … never mind.” I’ll just go sit in the backyard with my bow, laptop to write and seltzer water in the shade.

keep telling myself: “Ain’t my circus. I’m just the Awkward Uncle.”

Now off to do compose some fiction.  I have a bunch of voices pop up last night in my sleep, a few were frightening.

I hope to get you a chapter in something.

I’ll have it posted in five hours.

Dash

Steel Gardens of Anid-Sta Generation 1. Rescue

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Generation 1. Rescue

Captain of the guard watched over his daughter. Like all fathers, he balanced that fine line between keeping her safe, and allowing her to have her adventures.

“No one learns without getting a bruise now and again.” His own father would tell him. Beekan Luc watched her as she rode the armored flyer.

She was little more than a young adult. If in human terms, they were extremely old. The last human went into the machine after the virus nearly wiped them out.

The humans remained in vats of liquid helium ever since, frozen in a deep slumber that none of the caretakers knew when it would end.

Trix had passed her three-thousandth birthday just a decade ago, for the Caretakers, that was her right of passage year.

Each year on Anid-Sta as it orbited in a highly elliptical orbit around the young red star every four-hundred fifty-six stellar cycles. Each day of eighteen standard hours.

Of the entire corps, Trix was the last one to join in the riders of the sky. She always ran off looking for adventure in the badlands.

Her white-metal dragonfly, Evan, an evolved design from the mainframe printers with fine motor control.

Laser printers, creating circuits in three-dimensions, articulated appendages and the most curious of developments since the hibernation of the humans, metallic wings so fine and thin, that the adaptations for flight had evolved into iridescent and translucent appendages.

The caregiver computer that built and programmed them all, printed them in a matrix of metal and synthetic flesh, the caregivers of the Fae, the etymology of the phrase failed Luc, but their job was to dismantle all weapons of the humans. To build a peaceful world.

But for the amount of weapons. The caretakers slowly recycled the metals to create a larger society of metal birds, insects and caretakers.

Bipedal in shape, the computer used humans as a master blueprint, then programmed the small creations as pacifistic caregivers to the plants and the other organic life, they grew in numbers, dismantled the stout engines of war and rebuilt them into usable tools.

Repairing systems that kept the depths of an artificial cave systems in operation. In cylinders, sealed with the contents hidden from view.

A refrigerant fluid was kept in order by the multi-legged keepers of the core.

One calm day, thirty-thousand solstice-cycles after the computer recorded the last human’s death, a chime sounded.

The chime, written into the code of the protectors, excited them all.

Evolution of the caretakers, now constructed to the size of a thumb, gathered around when the first of the cylinders, a label marked “MacLir, Fae” vented and opened down the middle, like a three-sectioned steel flower, exposing a tall bipedal body. The automated table smoothly rolled along a track to a glass enclosed room that filled with a mist, warmed to a digital read-out of forty-degrees-c.

Silver robotic arms moved around, placing heat-pads on the body, existing  intravenous lines, inserted before the human was frozen, connected to bags of opaque, heated, dark-red fluid infused through the lines into the nude body of the female human who lay inert for hours as the heated, calorie- and electrolyte- rich fluids coursed through the veins and arteries. Blankets with tubes of warmed fluid covered the body and regulated the core temperature.

In the third hour, the cardiac muscle gave the first beat in three-hundred centuries. Frozen lungs began to move airs slowly at first, warmed oxygen laden with surfactants assisted the weak efforts of the diaphragm with positive pressure, until the patient was able to breathe on her own.

In the world of the caregivers, swimmers, flyers, crawlers, collectively calling themselves the Caregivers of Fae, hovered, stood, climbed on each other and stood on shoulders to see inside the glass-walled room.

Movement in the room, not of metal, but of flesh, a human hand moved up to the brow of Fae MacLir, exploring her face and the tape that held her eyes shut.

A small grunt of pain, she pulled off the tape covering her eyes. The first of the humans were awake. The oldest of their species.

After the long walk of ages, the rescue of the human species was coming to pass.

And the Caretakers of Fae marked the event to the millisecond.

Smart Bomb chapter 7. Cold

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Scene 7. Cold

The American south.

The database listed the area warm in the summer, cool and rarely freezing in winter.

Why then, was he walking along a highway looking like a heavily muscled Hispanic woman, the plan would have her picked up by a corrupt American soldier where a trade of favors for a ride would work out well for the android.

But none stopped, stopping at a food-mart and gas station, the Android female stepped into the unisex bathroom and adjusted her size, something darker, black eyes, bright smile. Slimmer and bigger breasted.

Images the android pulled from the worldnet for modeling his next shape and walked out with the, now light-colored shirt and jeans. Shining raven-black almost blue-hair.

Passing by the Air Force Base as the now female android headed north in a slow drizzle from the cloud cover, soaking her over-tight light-colored shirt, her backpack the only thing for insulation.

The android hoped that the plan would work, the heat loss was dramatic and alarming, she would have to turn to the jacket that the android stored in the backpack.

A few cars passed while the civilian employees left the base to head home.

An elegant, official looking car pulled next to her and the middle-aged commander leaned over, his brass decorations glinting in the gathering evening.

“Need a ride, miss? The weather is going to turn nasty here in about a half-hour.” He was official sounding. But his eyes traced over her shape, including the damp breasts of the android.

“Thank you. How do you know of the weather?”

“We have detailed knowledge of anything in the air.” He smiled as she put her backpack in the car.

The android concluded that the offer not only kept the heat loss to a minimum, but that the American male would not be difficult to mine for information.

Sitting there with the pack under her legs, keeping them parted enough for the civilian worker a view of the slightly parted legs of the damp jeans.

“Where are you headed miss?” The officer asked.

“North. Anywhere dry, warm and safe.” A planned response, to a known question. But an unknown event caused heuristic subroutines to rapidly alter the plan.

A voice from the back seat interrupted the plans.

“We have an hours drive north. Roman, I can authorize you another hour of driving after you drop me off, after we secure you a rider.”

Turning around, an entire dictionary ran through the core processors.

“You startled me!” She turned her head rapidly around. “I’m Ann, what do you mean securing a rider?”

“No one travels alone in the equipment, this means he will not be left alone with you or any other civilian. It is protocol. I will secure you a female rider for your comfort. “

The plan was a fail. Only if she was alone with a male, would the plan work to extract the information.

The driver wearing an officer’s markings violated the protocols already, they would not take it to any greater lengths.

“I have money for a hotel, I just need to get there.”

They drove on in silence for some distance when a hotel that seemed near their destination.

Stepping out of the car, then recovering her backpack she thanked the Lieutenant driver and the Colonel. She watched them drive away before she changed shapes to one of a sandy-haired middle-aged male of indeterminate heritage and walked to the office of the hotel in the twilight hours and gathering storm.

Information recorded, the plan failed however it still discovered, even in America’s own country, the military do not travel alone in official vehicles.

Stepping sitting on his bed, the android watched the local news. Weather would become colder in the next few days, this caused alerts to begin processing alternative forms of transportation that would not attract attention.

Checking the roll of non-traceable cash, an alternative method of transportation would be useful.

Ground transport would be preferable, opposed to the hypersonic craft the United States used. Too much scrutiny with facial recognition.

The android knew, there was little chance to pass close inspection just one time, multiple passes would reduce the odds to less than a fraction of one percent.

His program required him to adapt to succeed. He would reach his mission objective.

Deliver the device to the seat of evil.

Destination: Washington, the most responsible criminal for the starving and poverty in the true religion by not sharing with the religious foods and comforts that they kept for themselves.

Except for the sharing the android witnessed.

A contradiction that answered by focusing that donations of equipment and effort all appeared to come from private citizens.

But, where did the sand come from? The officer?

The people he met appeared were inherently kind. From the child in Florida to an officer that refused to handcuff a cold, unarmed and slightly-built youth.

Confict. Subroutines patched, conflict caused potential for failure of mission.

The mission was all important to strike a blow for peace. There would be lessons to be taught by showing that the failure of the United States to pressure Europe magazines from making fun of them or prevent insulting novels from being published.

The way to find through the winter storm, he would walk to the used car lot.

The American love for the automobile would allow him to move north without suspicion.

The plan set, an alternative to walking north the thousand-kilometers north.

Fully stretched out, the android could take one pace per meter.

His core processor measured a new term, a kilopace, a thousand-thousand paces to his target.

One million steps.

A large number that could be reduced by the use of private transportation.

The contact with non-believers would be reduced. A new subroutine, created by the latest update to his operating systems, required contact with the people and the government that reflects the thinking of the masses.

Alternative plan: A seventy to one-hundred kilometer drive each day, then interact with citizens.

Taking on the shape and color, hair and accent, more data would be collected for proof of the glory and required destruction of this horrid…

He deleted the plan process, the prejudging of America seemed widespread in the database.

The android lay on the bed and powered down, a required time for reboot of the entire system for purging fragmented data that took up space in his limited resources.

Setting a power-on alert for seven O’clock, he lay on top of the blankets with the room set to just below body temperature.

If anyone looked through the gap of the window shade, it looked as if he was asleep on his back.

In truth, should anyone try to touch the android, the tactile feeling would make a person believe this was a dead human on the bed.

In the morning, the database cleared of all fragmented codes, would require replenished energy levels.

He would need a breakfast high in carbohydrate.

Not for the first time, he anticipated data input from this strange country.

Kingdom of Pirates Chapter 8. Arrival of the King

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8. Arrival of The King

Even scene investigators began to suspect that the Empire was under some new kind of control.

In the Momo Embassy where the representatives kept offices on Evabor, a planet orbiting the small star were not willing to discuss the events. Declaring that the events constituted a frame up and that the pirates were manufacturing the evidence.

“The great devil it the matters is the Pirate Confederation. Forever causing incursions and supporting unrest in our Empire. This is not of Momo Empire making. It is more probable the rogue pirate, the great criminal organization that tries to conquer the Empire of the righteous people, that are trying to throw off suspicion from the outlaw shippers.” Grelon the Ambassador, Godmother to the Crowned Prince, hissed. Drawing a breath while reading from her hand-held padd, “According to our records there is no Empire ship on this side of the border space. Any more accusations would provoke an interstellar incident for the defamation and insult of the Empire.”

The Buccaneer leaders of the planet Aquila looked at each other, rolled their eyes and shook their heads while videos of the speech played on media outlets.

A few shrugged, the evidence was proof enough, no one believed any of the kingdoms cared enough to try to manufacture evidence against the Empire that they long-held a peaceful coexistence with.

Rhetoric and demonstrations calling the evidence an insult to the Empire, Momo citizens that worked and did business called on the governments to apologize, cease reporting of the attacks.

Many conspiracy groups suspected it was a third-party trying to start a war between the two, then pick up the pieces after the Empire and the Confederacy tore each other apart.

Only the central governing body founded by the first settling wanderer that began to terraform a planet into the first Kingdom, orbiting a red dwarf star with a highly elliptical orbit with short, mild summers and long springs and autumns, the depths of winter lasting half the year. Snow falling as the planet reached its apogee of the orbit, planetwide. It was a wonderful place for a young man to come of age when the plagues went through the systems, felling farmers and city dwellers alike.

With mild weather three-fourths of the year, as time went by the planet became the center of trade and commerce, the seat of the government, informally called “Pirate Royal Court”.

In time, the Great King abdicated, his son, Boru U’Maille, became king of the Pirate Royals.

The King was coming.