From cmeadows@nyx.cs.du.edu (Chris Meadows) Subject: [Oberon, Inc.] Life Goes On Date: Fri, 27 Aug 93 16:23:08 GMT Ah, back to the 'Rest at last! IAG-NS-227 and Chimera Team property of Mark Fogelin. Vector Mechanics property of Scott 2G Kellogg. Everything else property of me. Tom Watts was supervising the reconstruction of the damaged portions of the Oberon, Inc. factory 'plex. Patrols of military-equipped mecha were now making constant sweeps around the outskirts of the 'plex five times every hour, while others helped patch up the damage. "Bring those girders over here!" He gestured with the arm of his Excalibur-robot. "Weld them in place and then start restructuring the wall." With both Kevin and Jerry gone, he was solely responsible for the 'plex now, and it was a task that he accepted, even if it was tiring and frustrating. He turned the climate-control temperature dial in his mecha down a notch, but he was still sweating. Then the main console screen blipped, indicating that Kevin's mecha had just entered Command Mode. That meant that Kevin now had complete access to all areas of Oberon's computer, and the authority to change any and all instructions within it. Tom silently wished him luck, even though they'd had their differences in the past. He was The Boss now, no matter how much of a fool he might be, and The Boss had to be obeyed. Captain McNichol was meeting with four or five of his men on the cramped bridge of the AVENGER. "We have the traitor Jerry Wycoff," he said. "We now have to capture his brother, Kevin. Toward that end, we will establish watches at the factory and throughout town. Sergeant Van Fossner, I want you to take nine of your men and cover the Settlement. I think that I want you in the local pub, the 'Haven's Rest.'" Seeing the pained look on the face of the other, McNichol said, "And it will be all right, I suppose, for you to have a few drinks. But only a few, and nothing more potent than you can handle." "Yessir, thank you sir." Sgt. Van Fossner could drink a water buffalo under the table, and they both knew it. He loved his liquor, and for him to have been stationed in a pub but not allowed to partake would have been nigh unbearable. He would have DONE it, that was not the issue, but he would have been miserable while doing so, thus not operating at peak efficiency. True, he could have assigned someone else to the Haven's Rest, but Van Fossner had the most experience in drinking establishments, and would be able to catch what lesser men might miss. "Sergeant Whittaker, you and your men will set up three listening posts at a respectable distance from the Oberon factory. Report on any unusual events. Lieutenant Keeshaw, you're the computer expert here. How hard would it be for you to crack into the local computer network, SereNet, I think it's called?" "Gosh, Captain, I did that two hours ago," Keeshaw announced. McNichol permitted himself a brief grin. "You constantly amaze me, Lieutenant. All right, see if you can monitor what our friend Kevin might be up to." Keeshaw nodded, flipping open the porta-terminal he carried with him at all times. "Sir, something here already." "Oh? What's that?" "Some sort of new, powerful supercomputer has been activated. A mobile unit, it seems...one oberon.command1.ser." "Can you get a location trace? Find out who's operating it?" Keeshaw touched some keys, shook his head. "No, sir. That's physically impossible, the kind of network SereNet is." "Can you break into it?" Keeshaw grinned. "Oh, yeah. I think so, sir. I've never met the computer that could stop me..." "Great. Get on it. The rest of you, you have your orders. Oh, Lieutenant Harridan, I want you to see if you can open a comm-line to IAG-NS-227. Make it a tightbeam laser transmission." "Shall I bounce it off satellites?" Harridan asked, sitting down at the communications console in the AVENGER. "No, don't bother...I've worked with them before, I know that a Null Ship could probably defeat any attempt on our part to mask our source. Just get me a commline, Lieutenant." "Yessir." Even though they came from different divisions of the multiverse, their respective governments had sometimes needed to work together--the Chimera teams and the Omega Force. Each would be the first to admit that the other was damned good at what it did. But each would also be the first to claim that IT was better. There was a certain amount of professional courtesy between the two elite groups. Each knew that the other had a job to do, and neither would interfere with the other's operations (unless the two operations were connected; so far, these connected operations had only led to cooperation--no one knew what would happen if they were pitted AGAINST each other...). Often, this professional courtesy led Omega and Chimera operatives to exchange information, if it would not adversely affect their operation, or occasionally even to exchange favors. It was information that McNichol was hoping for and expecting--he had no desire for any other favors, for he knew from personal experience that the kind of favor the Chimera Team was prone to ask could cost dearly. "Okay, I've got your commline open, sir. Go ahead." McNichol reached over and hit the RECORD key on the console. He knew that the Chimera Team computer would be doing the same. And then he began to speak. Kevin Wycoff's Excalibur mechabike drove into the hangar on the south side of Scaler Field that housed Vector Mechanics. A couple of technicians met him as the bike wheeled in. Quickly glancing over the bike, they saw that it looked pretty damaged. They couldn't fail to notice the many weapons the bike was mounting, either. "Looks pretty beat-up," one of the mechanics said in a neutral tone. "Yep, it is." The rider pulled off his helmet. "I'd like you to fix 'er up for me." "Okay." The other tech approached the bike, a computer data-display pad in his hand. "You'll need to fill this out..." He handed it to Kevin. "All right. He glanced at it. "Eve, could you take care of this for me?" "Certainly, Kevin." The technicians exchanged startled looks--an AI, in a machine this small? Kevin handed the device back, with all the information on it filled in. "Okay. Fix what needs fixing. By the way, she does have artifi--er, machine intelligence, and can defend herself against unauthorized intrusion. Other than that, she'll cooperate with you fully, right Eve?" Eve's face came up on screen. "Right, Kevin." "Great. Hey, how can I get a cab around here?" "I'll call one for you," Eve said. She paused, paying attention to something "off-camera." "It should be here within a few minutes." "Thanks. Well, I'll see you later..." Kevin walked out the entry to the hangar to await his ride to the Haven's Rest. -- Chris Meadows | Robotech/RIFTS/Palladium fanfic author/editor CHM173S@SMSVMA | They Might Be Giants about Star Trek aliens: CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU | "Everybody wants prosthetic foreheads CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | on their real heads!"