Chapter 34

[Jim Vassilakos]

Josefeen sat next to me as we slowly descended into Jewell’s atmosphere. While I’d been rehearsing my speech, she’d been having the Kinnuki checked over by a surveillance specialist, or so Nizlich told me. The Commander wanted to come too, but I needed someone to stay on the ship, someone I could trust in case of an emergency. It would so like the Zhos to attack while our pants were down around our ankles.

Jaamzon's service could have just as easily been help on the ship, but Karneticky and Masa, the latter I had yet to meet in person, wanted a big splash. They wanted to invite the public to take a look at Jaamzon’s sacrifice and remember that even in peacetime there is war.

“Damn straight,” Josefeen said.

“What?”

“You fly damn straight. I was going to ask why you don’t zigzag a little more. You know, pull some maneuvers like they do in those Kunniki commercials, but then I remembered; one doesn’t zigzag on the way to a memorial service unless you’re drunk or really hate whoever died.”

She tugged at the collar of her full dress uniform.. (Feel free to describe her, whatever Plankwell might notice, bearing in mind that she was described in Chapter 4 as “a bathykolpian woman with an intricately patterned hairstyle.” Also, it’s Gus’s turn to say something, unless he wants to pass.)

[Conrad Rader]

"Yes. Usually I ask for a wider lane for maneuvering and evasive, as well as high speed runs. But, as you say, sober straight flying on the way to a funeral."

A thought struck me, and I called up the service program to check if there would be a missing man overflight. Masa was pretty good. Not only was there a double squadron pass, but he had tapped my fighter crews for the mission.

I sat back and regarded my Intelligence officer.

"Not a lot of call for your full dress?"

I checked her assignment and medal row. Intelligence officers tended to not get promoted as fast as other branches due to the favorable nature of staying in place and cultivating networks, so a lot of notation for a lieutenant was the norm in Intel. That was interesting.

"Tell me about [[OOC; whatever I noticed as interesting in her awards and medals]]"

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[Jim Vassilakos]

She tugged at the collar of her full dress uniform.

“Yes."  (What is Gus thinking right here?) “Usually I ask for a wider lane for maneuvering and evasive, as well as high speed runs. But, as you say, sober straight flying on the way to a funeral.”

A thought struck me, and I called up the service program to check if there would be a missing man overflight. Masa was pretty good. Not only was there a double squadron pass, but he had tapped my fighter crews for the mission.

I sat back and regarded my Intelligence officer.

“Not a lot of call for your full dress?”

“Why do you say that?”

[Conrad Rader]

[[Gus is looking at her fingernails and wondering how they manage to stay intact, and also noticing the movement of her body under her uniform.]]

"Standard issue dress uniforms are designed to be slightly uncomfortable. A reminder, if you will, of the gravity of wearing them. Wear them often enough, and you will opt for custom tailoring, along with the choice of fabric that looks identical to standard issue,but so much more comfortable to wear. That neck pull you are doing is a dead giveaway."

I looked over at her and grinned.

"You think the admirals put up with uncomfortable uniforms all the time? I was a staff officer and the admiral I was assisting had the most nu-tech setup in his uniform, wicking and filtering fabrics, nanoscale temperature exchange, and there was a rumor that the inner layer was leather made from his cloned skin. I was pretty sure that was a story to put the fear in the flag ensigns, but I was never sure"

"Myself, I will settle for something a little lower tech, but I do not stint of the comfort. Feel in here if you want. the neck is low friction shammersilk.,"

I leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck. I was curious if she would take the bait and wondering what I would do if she did..

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[Jim Vassilakos]

 “You think the admirals put up with uncomfortable uniforms all the time? Back when I was a staff officer, the admiral I was assisting had the most nu-tech setup in his uniform, wicking and filtering fabrics, nanoscale temperature exchange, and there was a rumor that the inner layer was leather made from his cloned skin. I was pretty sure that was a story to put the fear in the flag ensigns, but I was never sure.”

“At least he was comfortable in his own skin,” she said.

(Feel free to reply, if you like, or Gus can continue as follows:)

“Myself, I will settle for something a little lower tech, but I do not stint on comfort. Feel in here if you want. The neck is low friction shammersilk.”

I leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck. I was curious if she would take the bait and wondering what I would do if she did.

(What do you mean by take the bait?)

[Conrad Rader]

[[I chuckle at her joke. "True enough"]]

[[By bait I am referring to touching my uniform neck, and by extension, giving her the opportunity to touch me. I am upping the stakes in the flirting game, perhaps feeling emboldened by my recent success with Kaz. After all it's safe here away from most prying eyes.]]

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[Jim Vassilakos]

I chuckled at her joke. “True enough. Myself, I will settle for something a little lower tech, but I do not stint on comfort. Feel in here if you want. The neck is low friction shammersilk.”

I leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck. I was curious if she would take the bait and wondering what I would do if she did. After all, I was giving her the opportunity to touch me, upping the stakes in the flirting game. Perhaps my recent success with Kaz emboldened me. After all, it was safe here, away from prying eyes.

“Shammersilk, huh?” She gave me a sidelong glance, then, smiling, leaned over, touching my collar. “Oh, this is nice. Very nice.” She leaned in further, somehow sliding herself into my lap while hitting the autopilot. “I’m sorry if I’m being too forward,” she said, very calmly, “but do you really think I’m going to take it from a man that I don’t know how to dress? I’ve got shammersilk ultrasheers on right now. Wanna see?”

Ultrasheers? Weren’t those pantyhose?

She nodded. “And they’re crotchless. Or is that too much information?”

[Conrad Rader]

I raised both hands.

"I surrender. I should have known someone with your immaculate sense of style would be on top of things. I ask forgiveness with my poor doltish ways. I am after all, merely a captain in the Navy."

I held her eye for a beat.

"And yes, too much information. It's me giving this eulogy not you."

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[Jim Vassilakos]

“We don’t have time, anyway. After the ceremony, you can take me to Silver City or maybe that corpse volcano you flew over. Then we can go get some barbecue. But before any of that can happen, I’m going to need you to do something. It’s important you follow my instructions, if you want to serve the Emperor as a Captain in the Imperial Navy and not someone who’s being institutionalized for having psychotic hallucinations, which is something I can make happen; not that I want to, of course. I want to work with you. I very much want for the two of us to become a team. But right now we have a big problem. You know what that problem is, don’t you?” 

[Conrad Rader]

"I exposed myself to an unknown, active psionic device? Admiral Karenticky is behaving erratically and endangering an alliance with the Stavelots? The local population might be planning an uprising to discredit the local vargr population? I should have kept Nizlich out of the loop? I set myself up with a child of the Great Impregnator? These are my current problems"

"Seriously, after everything that's happened to me over the last few days since I've arrived. But yes, I would prefer to remain a captain and not be institutionalized. Really, threats like that are unnecessary, and I think a little beneath you."

On Wed, Sep 6, 2023 at 2:51 PM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

“We don’t have time, anyway. After the ceremony, you can take me to Silver City or maybe that corpse volcano you flew over. Then we can go get some barbecue. But before any of that can happen, I’m going to need you to do something. It’s important you follow my instructions, if you want to serve the Emperor as a Captain in the Imperial Navy and not someone who’s being institutionalized for having psychotic hallucinations, which is something I can make happen; not that I want to, of course. I want to work with you. I very much want for the two of us to become a team. But right now we have a big problem. You know what that problem is, don’t you?” 

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[Jim Vassilakos]

 “I didn’t want you to freak out and hit me." She took a deep breath, still perched on my lap. "Sir, why do you think there were psionic toys in your overhead bin? Did you put them there? No. Did the prior captain leave them there? That would be awfully forgetful of him, wouldn’t it? And what was that bubble thing? By the way, it’s called a psi orb. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one before. Haven’t you?”

[Conrad Rader]

"Uhhhhh"

Memories of my childhood came to the fore again"

"I never really understood what my aunt was trying to get through to me. I am not trying to be difficult here, it's really like exposure to that thing unlocked a lot of hidden, suppressed memories?"

I remembered choosing the knight over the wizard, and how she seemed disappointed.

"So, yes, I do have a memory of seeing one before, but I only just remembered that."

On Wed, Sep 6, 2023 at 3:22 PM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

 “I didn’t want you to freak out and hit me." She took a deep breath, still perched on my lap. "Sir, why do you think there were psionic toys in your overhead bin? Did you put them there? No. Did the prior captain leave them there? That would be awfully forgetful of him, wouldn’t it? And what was that bubble thing? By the way, it’s called a psi orb. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one before. Haven’t you?”

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[Conrad Rader]

"I still reserve the right to hit you, though, but we'll do it in a sparring ring, not because I am freaking out, although I reserve the right to do that too."

I took a deep breath

"Great Cleon, you're not going to tell me I had a personality overlay, are you?"

[Jim Vassilakos]

 “I didn’t want you to freak out and hit me.”

“I reserve the right to, though when it happens, it’ll be in a sparring ring, not because I am freaking out, although I reserve the right to do that too.” I took a deep breath. “Great Cleon, you're not going to tell me I had a personality overlay, are you?”

She grinned, still perched on my lap but now straddling me. “Sir, why do you think there were psionic toys in your overhead bin? Did you put them there? No. Did the prior captain leave them there? That would be awfully forgetful of him, wouldn’t it? And what was that bubble thing? By the way, it’s called a psi orb. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one before. Haven’t you?”

“Uhhhhh…” The memory hit me like a brick to the skull. “No, Augie! No!” Aunt Arguaski had yelled, and I cried and cried, not understanding why she’d yelled at me. What was I doing wrong? And then she tried to explain.

"I never really understood what my aunt was trying to get through to me,” I said. “I am not trying to be difficult here. Exposure to that thing, the psi-orb, unlocked some hidden, possibly suppressed memories.”

Who do you want to be when you grow up? The warrior or the wizard?

I remembered choosing the warrior over the wizard, and how she seemed disappointed.

“You don’t have to choose,” Josefeen said. “You can be both. Just like Olav.”

[Conrad Rader]

"OK, I am now officially freaked out. Just like Olav what?"

I knew historically that psions had been more open in Olav's time, the Supressions were almost 200 years later, but nothing had ever suggested that Olav was a psion.

"Um, I also notice you are trying to get physically closer to me."

Where oh where was the warning beep for approach proximity.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

I blinked, for a moment too stunned to respond.

“Okay, I am now officially freaked out. What do you mean, just like Olav?"

I knew historically that psions had been more open in Olav's time. He predated the Psionics Suppressions¹ by almost two centuries, but nothing had ever suggested that he was a psion.

“Except for his ability to dodge enemy fleets with such ease,” Josefeen said, leaning into me in a way reminiscent of the dream woman.

“Um, I notice you are trying to get physically closer to me.”

 “Your powers of observation do you credit,” she replied, her breasts now mere centimeters from the tip of my nose. “I could hear what you’ve been thinking about these, by the way. I seem to remember the word bathykolpian came to mind? If I may, sir, I’d like to take this opportunity to compliment you on your extensive vocabulary.”

(This refers all the way back to Ch 4, page 23 in the write-up)

 “Now, not meaning to break the mood, but I need to ask you a very important question, and it’s important that you answer honestly. How long was it between the time you discovered the orb and the time you told me about it?”

[Conrad Rader]

[[Just parsed the sequence of events, and I found the orb in the stash on day 1, did not touch it until day three and we are now on day 5 or 6, I think]]

[[Also, I am suddenly suspicious of my intel officer being the Zho agent...I may have to hit her after all]]

"Enough."

I put my hands against the Lt and pushed her off me.

I was getting very suspicious of all the attention and her mentioning hearing what I've been thinking made me drop into command mode.

"Hands off lieutenant. This is not how we are going to be doing things."

[[Right now, I'd be asking for a roll to see if she resembled the intruder I pushed out of my head already, who took something.]]

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[Jim Vassilakos]

It had been about two days, but admitting it would pretty squarely put me in violation of Navy Regulations, and her mentioning hearing me think as well as demonstrating it multiple times made me suddenly drop into command mode. What if she were a Zhodani agent?

“Enough,” I put my hands against her stomach. “Hands off, Lieutenant. This is not how we are going to be doing things.” I pushed, but as she got up, cooperating, or so I thought, she leaned forward again, holding the back of my chair for leverage to lift herself off me, and then I felt it, a sharp pain in my neck, like I’d been stuck with a needle. She had the polymer hypogun in hand as she pulled herself away, the same one that had been in my so-called secret stash.

“I lied to you, Captain,” she said. “I’m not wearing shammersilk, and I don’t go crotchless unless there’s a damn good reason, and you aren’t one. But two days, sir?” You know that’s unacceptable.

That last sentence she didn’t say out loud. She thought it.

That’s right. And no, I’m not a Zhodani Agent. Your psionics were activated for a reason. We’ve been testing you for a reason. And, yes, I’m the succubus, but I was under orders, because you were taking too long to come to me. You have not proven yourself trustworthy, sir. And we need you to be, because we need you for a mission.

[Conrad Rader]

Cragshabullen.

There were extenuating circumstances, and both she and I knew it, but she also had me on the letter of the regs.

"I knew I shouldn't have put off Intel. You are all so twitchy. And I was in medical the next day. If it was a clean job, they would have picked up the activation and reported it."

My heart wasn't in it, and I was wondering what I had been juiced up with. Darrian psi-booster no doubt.

"I would blame Karneticky, but for all I know, he's just acting under orders about this too. You responsible on the fusion barbette hold too?"

Now I was just feeling petty. No one likes being manipulated, and this stank deeply of a long con.

I could feel the place in the back of my skull much more clearly, but I was not quite ready to get on board.

"Fine, you have me, what is it you need me to do?"

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Ch 34 is ready for your suggestions and suggested edits. PLEASE REMEMBER to change "EDITING" to "SUGGESTING" (near the upper right-hand corner) before doing any edits.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1kOckw7SJGTEs7-3qr7YQAAHEs2tVcpg4/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=113687616933633107445&rtpof=true&sd=true

I'll try to start Chapter 35 either tomorrow or Monday, depending on how the weekend goes. Right now I've got some Honey-Dos to do.

[Jim Vassilakos]

While trying to start the next chapter, I realized there's a mistake in this one that has to be addressed before we can move on. Near the end of page 5, where Plankwell thinks "Boy she was pissed" is a point where I'm pretty sure I stole some player-agency to advance the conversation. But this was a mistaken, as this was a potentially critical point in a scene that was shaping up to be a critical scene between these two characters, which may end up becoming a critical relationship for the plot to work itself out as the RPG Muses intend, so I think we need to go back and address this before moving on. Sorry, but your GM fouled-up (it's not the first time in this campaign, and it won't be the last). In short, I was in too much of a hurry to resolve the immediate conflict.

So instead of "Boy, she was pissed," would you like the change it to "It’s not like she wasn’t trying to give that impression." which more or less comports to the comment you made in the margin?

[Conrad Rader]

I took your thought and went back and made some changes in the write up incorporating my knowledge that she was trying something from Ch 13 p 82, even if I didn't know what it was, this kind of heavy handed intervention is a strike against her, or she thought I was more competent than I am... either way, intelligence failure... but feel free to massage to fit as needed

My feeling is don't blame the cat for jumping if you are dangling the snack. and oh boy, was she dangling... heheheh... also explains when I refused the bait when she crossed the contact line, as she is in my chain of command however tentatively, and I wasn't going to let that happen. Too Navy for her own good I suspect. Look all you want but no touching.

That being said, I like the implication that the Navy continues to use psi in the background, but I am not ruling out this all being a cover story and she really is a Zhodani agent. I mean how desperate do you have to be to juice a known possible psion to throw into psychic combat with a possible Zho operator (who with my luck will be Kaz) to find the location of the ship that just ambushed the previous captain, who also might have been in my position.

CR

On Sun, Sep 10, 2023 at 11:26 AM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

While trying to start the next chapter, I realized there's a mistake in this one that has to be addressed before we can move on. Near the end of page 5, where Plankwell thinks "Boy she was pissed" is a point where I'm pretty sure I stole some player-agency to advance the conversation. But this was a mistaken, as this was a potentially critical point in a scene that was shaping up to be a critical scene between these two characters, which may end up becoming a critical relationship for the plot to work itself out as the RPG Muses intend, so I think we need to go back and address this before moving on. Sorry, but your GM fouled-up (it's not the first time in this campaign, and it won't be the last). In short, I was in too much of a hurry to resolve the immediate conflict.

So instead of "Boy, she was pissed," would you like the change it to "It’s not like she wasn’t trying to give that impression." which more or less comports to the comment you made in the margin?

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[Timothy Collinson]

On Sun, 10 Sept 2023 at 17:26, Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

While trying to start the next chapter, I realized there's a mistake in this one that has to be addressed before we can move on. Near the end of page 5, where Plankwell thinks "Boy she was pissed" is a point where I'm pretty sure I stole some player-agency to advance the conversation. But this was a mistaken, as this was a potentially critical point in a scene that was shaping up to be a critical scene between these two characters, which may end up becoming a critical relationship for the plot to work itself out as the RPG Muses intend, so I think we need to go back and address this before moving on. Sorry, but your GM fouled-up (it's not the first time in this campaign, and it won't be the last). In short, I was in too much of a hurry to resolve the immediate conflict.

So instead of "Boy, she was pissed," would you like the change it to "It’s not like she wasn’t trying to give that impression." which more or less comports to the comment you made in the margin?

Well, I'd vote for it on the grounds that it's less uncouth alone... ;-)

Have seen you're note about ch34 although I actually sat down at computer to try and catch up with some previous ones that have been on my to do list.  Trust yours are going well Jim (the honey to dos!)

Conrad wrote:

>possible Zho operator (who with my luck will be Kaz)

I was going to comment, but will refrain...

tc

[Jim Vassilakos]

I'm confused about this: "That someone was unhappy her scheme required this kind of intervention." What is Gus actually thinking here?

[Conrad Rader]

Gus is thinking that she is a little ham handed in having to crawl all over him to throw him off or mentally drop his defenses. It's what I thought was the reasoning behind why I thought she was pissed off, but also it seems like a brute force approach to get in close enough to tag me with the injector. She had me on the ropes when I didn't know what was going on, but this coming straight out seems like something is forcing her hand. Also Gus is annoyed that she thinks he is so easily manipulated by sex

On Tue, Sep 12, 2023 at 12:43 AM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

I'm confused about this: "That someone was unhappy her scheme required this kind of intervention." What is Gus actually thinking here?

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Thanks for your patience. Been very busy this past week, but I'll spare you my sundry excuses. The actual problem was that I was unhappy with the chapter. Seemed to me like I'd GMed it poorly, but here we are. The main problem I seem to be having is that I'm not exactly sure when I should override player agency in order to move things forward for the sake of expediency and when I should back off. At this point, it's much more art than science. In any event, I decided to add some of the bits you gave me both in terms of editing suggestions as well as list posts. I'm not sure you'll be entirely happy with it, so let me know if I'm assuming too much player agency, and I'll try to back off. In any case, like I said, I extended the chapter a bit, and so we can continue the scene for a little bit longer, if you'd like. We can put it through another round of editing when we finish it.

Josefeen sat next to me during the descent back into Jewell’s atmosphere. Of course, burning in like a meteor was also a viable option, but I’d already tested the heat shield on the way up, and I didn’t figure it prudent to push my luck, especially with my Intelligence Pod liaison watching my every move. While I’d been rehearsing my speech, I kept thinking about her shaking her head just outside of the Commander's eyeshot, essentially telling me not to continue talking so much about being a psion. I did as she bid and then opted not to question her on it the moment we were alone. So then it bothered me. Meanwhile, she was having the Kinnuki checked over by a surveillance specialist, or so Nizlich had told me. The Commander wanted to come to the surface with us — like myself and Jaamzon, she too had been a fighter jock — but I was already on the schedule; there was no need for her to speak as well, and I needed someone to stay on the ship, someone I could trust in case of an emergency. After all, it would be so like the Zhos to attack while our pants were down around our ankles.

Of course, Jaamzon’s service could have just as easily been held on the ship, but Karneticky and Masa, the latter I had yet to meet in person, wanted a big splash. They wanted to invite the public to take a look at Jaamzon’s sacrifice and remember that even in peacetime there is war.

“Damn straight,” Josefeen said.

“What?”

“Uh… you fly damn straight.” She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask why you don’t zigzag a little more. You know, pull some maneuvers like they do in those Kunniki commercials, but then I remembered one doesn’t zigzag on the way to a memorial service unless you’re drunk or really hate whoever died.”

She tugged at the collar of her full dress uniform.

“Yes,” I said, looking at her fingernails. They were long and shaded purple. I wondered how she managed to keep them intact, and as she turned towards me halfway, I could help but notice the movement of her body under her uniform. “Usually I ask for a wider lane for maneuvering and evasive, as well as high speed runs. But, as you say, sober straight flying on the way to a funeral.”

A thought struck me, and I called up the service program to check if there would be a missing man overflight. Masa was pretty good. Not only was there a double squadron pass, but he had tapped my fighter crews for the mission.

I sat back and regarded my Intelligence officer as she stared at me, unblinking.

“Not a lot of call for your full dress?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Standard issue dress uniforms are designed to be slightly uncomfortable. A reminder, if you will, of the gravity of wearing them. Wear them often enough, and you will opt for custom tailoring, along with the choice of fabric that looks identical to standard issue, but so much more comfortable to wear. That neck pull you did is a dead giveaway.”

I looked over at her and grinned.

“You think the admirals put up with uncomfortable uniforms all the time? Back when I was a staff officer, the admiral I was assisting had the most nu-tech setup in his uniform, wicking and filtering fabrics, nanoscale temperature exchange, and there was a rumor that the inner layer was leather made from his cloned skin. I was pretty sure that was a story to put the fear in the flag ensigns, but I was never sure.”

“At least he was comfortable in his own skin,” she said.

I chuckled at her joke. “True enough. Myself, I will settle for something a little lower tech, but I do not stint on comfort. Feel in here if you want. The neck is low friction shammersilk.”

I leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck. I was curious if she would take the bait and wondered what I would do if she did. After all, I was giving her the opportunity to touch me, upping the stakes in the flirting game. Perhaps my recent success with Kaz emboldened me. After all, it was safe here, away from prying eyes.

“Shammersilk, huh?” She gave me a sidelong glance, then, smiling, leaned over, touching my collar. “Oh, this is nice. Very nice.” She leaned in further, somehow sliding herself into my lap while hitting the autopilot. “I’m sorry if I’m being too forward,” she said, very calmly, “but do you really think I’m going to take it from a man that I don’t know how to dress? I’ve got shammersilk ultrasheers on right now. Wanna see?”

Ultrasheers? Weren’t those pantyhose?

She nodded. “And they’re crotchless. Or is that too much information?”

I raised both hands.

“I surrender. I should have known someone with your immaculate sense of style would be on top of things. I ask forgiveness with my poor, doltish ways. I am after all, merely a captain in the Navy." I held her eye for a beat. “And yes, too much information. It’s me giving this eulogy, not you.”

“We don’t have time, anyway,” she said, gripping my collar in both hands. “After the ceremony, you can take me to Silver City or maybe that corpse volcano you flew over.¹ Then we can go get some barbecue. But before any of that can happen, I’m going to need you to do something. It’s important you follow my instructions, if you want to serve the Emperor as a Captain in the Imperial Navy and not someone who’s being institutionalized for having psychotic hallucinations, which is something I can make happen; not that I want to, of course. I want to work with you. I very much want for the two of us to become a team. But right now we have a big problem. You know what that problem is, don’t you?”

Just one problem? Let’s see. “I exposed myself to an unknown, active psionic device? Admiral Karenticky is behaving erratically and endangering an alliance with the Stavelots? Someone might be planning an uprising to undermine the local vargr population? I should have kept Nizlich out of the loop? I set myself up with a child of the Great Impregnator? These are just a few of my current problems.”

“You poor dear.”

“Seriously, after everything that’s happened to me since I’ve arrived, maybe I should be institutionalized. But yes, I would prefer to remain a captain if that’s still an option. Let me add, however, that threats like that are unnecessary, and I think a little beneath you.”

“I didn’t want you to freak out and hit me.”

“I reserve the right to, though when it happens, it’ll be in a sparring ring, not because I am freaking out, although I reserve the right to do that too.” I took a deep breath. “Great Cleon, you’re not going to tell me I had a personality overlay, are you?”

She grinned, still perched on my lap but now straddling me. “Sir, why do you think there were psionic toys in your overhead bin? Did you put them there? No.” She shook her head. “Did the prior captain leave them there? That would be awfully forgetful of him, wouldn’t it? And what was that bubble thing? By the way, it’s called a psi orb. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one before. Haven’t you?”

“Uhhhhh…” The memory hit me like a brick to the skull. “No, Augie! No!” Aunt Arguaski had yelled, and I cried and cried, not understanding what had I done wrong. Normally, whenever I’d been yelled at, it was in that stern commanding voice parents reserve for misbehaving children, but this was different. It must have been the first time I’d heard an adult lose their shit.

Which meant she hadn’t planned for me to find it. She was just being untidy. Well, she lived alone, so that was her right, but even with small children it can consequences.

“I never really understood what my aunt was trying to get through to me,” I said. How long did Naval Intel know about this? Was it in some file they had on me? “I am not trying to be difficult here,” I said, suddenly feeling rather naked. “Exposure to that thing, the psi orb, unlocked some hidden, possibly suppressed memories.”

Who do you want to be when you grow up? The warrior or the wizard?²

I remembered choosing the warrior over the wizard, and how my great aunt seemed disappointed.

“You don’t have to choose,” Josefeen said. “You can be both. Just like Olav.”

I blinked, for a moment too stunned to respond.

“Okay, I am now officially freaked out. What do you mean, just like Olav?"

I knew historically that psions had been more open in Olav's time. He predated the Psionics Suppressions³ by almost two centuries, but nothing had ever suggested that he was a psion.

“Except for his ability to dodge enemy fleets with such ease,” Josefeen said, leaning into me in a way reminiscent of the dream woman. Her perfume was subtle but so arousing I couldn’t help but wonder if it was laced with synthetic sex pheromones.

“Um, I notice you are trying to get physically closer to me.”

“Your powers of observation do you credit,” she replied, her breasts now mere centimeters from the tip of my nose. “I could hear what you’ve been thinking about these, by the way. I seem to remember the word bathykolpian came to mind?⁴ If I may, sir, I’d like to take this opportunity to compliment you on your extensive vocabulary.”

“Thanks.” Holy Mother of Cleon. She was a psion!

“Not meaning to break the mood, but I need to ask you a very important question, and it’s important that you answer honestly. How long was it between the time you discovered the orb and the time you told me about it?”

It had been about two days, but admitting it would pretty squarely put me in violation of Navy Regulations, and her mentioning hearing me think as well as demonstrating it multiple times made me suddenly drop into command mode. After all, what if she were a Zhodani agent?

“Enough,” I put my hands against her stomach. “Hands off, Lieutenant. This is not how we are going to be doing things.” I pushed, but as she got up, cooperating, or so I thought, she leaned forward again, holding the back of my chair for leverage to lift herself off me, and then I felt it, a sharp pain in my neck, like I’d been stuck with a needle. She had the polymer hypogun in hand as she pulled herself away, the same one that had been in my so-called secret stash.

“I lied, Captain,” she said as a wave of disorientation hit me. “I’m not wearing shammersilk, and I don’t go crotchless unless there’s a damn good reason, and you aren’t one. But two days, sir?” You know that’s unacceptable.

The disorientation slowly subsided, and that last sentence she didn’t say out loud. She thought it.

That’s right. And no, I’m not a Zhodani Agent. Your psionics were activated for a reason. We’ve been testing you for a reason. And, yes, I’m the succubus, but I was under orders, because you were taking too long to come to me. You have not proven yourself trustworthy, sir. And we need you to be, because we need you for a mission.

Cragshabullen. There were extenuating circumstances, and both she and I knew it, but she also had me on the letter of the regs.

“I knew I shouldn’t have put off Intel,” I muttered. “You are all so twitchy. And I was in medical the next day. If it was a clean job, they would have picked up the activation and reported it.”

They don’t have a psi-detector. And you didn’t tell them the whole story, did you?

She had me, but as I looked at her, I could sense the pique she felt at my rejection. She was not as sexually persuasive as she’d hoped. What did she juice me up with? Darrian psi-booster, no doubt.

Just for the record, Captain, you never had a chance with me. And you never will.

It’s not like she wasn’t trying to give that impression.

I was just using your weaknesses against you to show how easy it is to prey upon the unaware. For your edification, sir.

A lie. I was almost certain of it. It was exceedingly weird hearing someone speaking with their mind, prevaricating excuses even inside their own thoughts. Her entire approach had been entirely too ham-handed. No doubt, she was simply unhappy her scheme required this level of intervention. Hell hath no fury.

The only thing making me angry is you thinking so much garbage.

Maybe you’re just an angry person who’s full of her own garbage.

You want to see me angry?

No, not really. To be fair, I considered playing her game. Briefly.

“I would blame Karneticky.” I said as the downport came into view, its landing platforms caressed by the sun’s dying rays. “But for all I know, he’s just acting under orders too. Are you responsible for the hold on the fusion barbettes as well?”

It was petty of me, but no one liked being manipulated, and this stank deeply of a long con.

It was, and you fell for it.

Smiling, she reached for my leg, but I swatted her hand away. I’d had enough of this person touching me, and I didn’t particularly care what she thought of it.

Ooh, you’re pissy when you get angry.

Another wave of disorientation hit me as we flew over what appeared to be a stadium, tight sections of seats visible beneath its transpex dome. A thin conduit connected it to the starport.

Psi-booster can cause dizziness. It’ll take a little while to adjust.

I closed my eyes and took a moment.

Sorry about being ornery, but I don’t particularly like your sort of male.

What sort is that?

The sort that acts like he can have any woman he wants. Yes, you can always bed a woman like Cassiopeia Remshaw, but she’s given herself to the eternal chase.

The eternal chase?

Women like her want someone who either doesn’t exist or isn’t available, and even when they find a good man, they can’t bring themselves to trust him because as far as they’re concerned, and they’re right about this, very few men can be trusted.

Well, don’t blame the cat for jumping if you’re dangling the snack. And, oh boy, were you dangling. But now I see it was all for my edification. I smiled.

Oh, you are so going to get it.

No, apparently I’m never going to get it, which, by the way, is as it must be, for you are in my chain of command, however tentatively, and so there was never any chance I would let that happen.

I am relieved, sir, that we are of the same mind. You appear to be past the disorientation. You can open your eyes anytime.

I’d forgotten I’d closed them, so immersed I was in our telepathic conversation. We were at rest in a parking bay, similar to the one I’d entered on my way to see the Yard Commander. How long had we been sitting here? And would I run into the admiral again and scare him half to death?

He’s been understandably nervous. She hit a button, and the Kinnuki’s doors opened. Do you feel steady enough to walk?

I got out. The cement felt spongy, or maybe it was my legs, and off in the distance, I could hear what sounded like a thousand little whispers. She reached inside and grabbed my valise as well as a small case with the Imperial Starburst prominently emblazoned on one side. It was a diplomatic pouch, basically something it was assumed we would be handing to the Countess or some member of the Imperial bureaucracy on Jewell.

Admiral Karneticky had a falling out with the Stavelots, she thought as we ascended some stairs.

I’d heard something about an aargvark incident.⁵

Open your mind to me.

How do I do that? We approached a customs checkpoint, the memory of my conversation with Kaz flashing to mind.

“A giant sabertooth aardvark,” she’d said. “The wedding was postponed and then eventually canceled.”

Just about the whole planet knows, at least those who matter, but the real heart of the story is that the admiral froze.

“Froze?”

The customs clerk looked at me, his eyebrows squished together.

“It’s cold,” I explained. It was, mildly.

He took my visitor authorization card, ran it through a card reader, and handed it back. Meanwhile, my valise went through a scanner, but her diplomatic pouch was spared. She simply put it on a little table to the left of the full body scanner, then picked it up once she was on the other side, the guards only stopping her to scan a little chip embedded at the starburst’s center.

He froze, she picked up the story as we walked toward an escalator. When the aargvark struck, Karneticky was right there with a gun in his hands, but he froze, and so Amika shielded the Countess with her own body. That’s how she got so messed up. And that’s the story they’re all whispering, and it’s essentially the truth, as far as I’ve been able to determine.

(Gus's response to this can be purely mental if you like, or if you choose to have him speak, that's fine, but you're now in a public space, so someone may overhear. And by the way, in case you haven't noticed, I moved the whole thing from the naval base to the starport. I figured it just made more sense, since the venue is close to the starport.)

1 See the 2^nd page of Chapter 26 in A&E #574.

2 See the 4^th page of Chapter 17 in A&E #565.

3 https://wiki.travellerrpg.com/Psionics_Suppressions

4 See the 2^nd page of Chapter 4, in A&E #552.

5 See the 5^th page of Chapter 22 in A&E #570.

[Conrad Rader]

Thanks for the explanation. Player agency is a tricky thing, especially in this format where we have already swapped players in the role. I am mindful of the general thrust of the story/game and try to resist too wild tangents. Part of the 'problems' speech was me identifying a bunch of threads that are hanging. How many are actual threads and how many are herrings is an exercise for Gus to determine.

If it helps, I don't feel that I was railroaded, and I appreciate you synthesizing my feedback to produce a more nuanced response.

In plain galanglic, this is my understanding of what just happened

One of my subordinates maneuvered me into a violation of regulations by leaving active psionic devices in a captain's access only area (which I now Know was not

Same officer violated regs to invade my mind and simulated an incursion by a Zhodani agent

Same officer again used her superior knowledge of a situation to coerce me into a covert mission while demonstrating appallingly base tactics (honey pot is the oldest trick in the book because it still works...)

The captain in Gus is already screamingly ready to request a reassignment / transfer of this officer, just so that you know.

I have added edits and thoughts / questions in the chapter and finish with how I respond and continue forward.

On Tue, Sep 19, 2023 at 3:25 AM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

Thanks for your patience. Been very busy this past week, but I'll spare you my sundry excuses. The actual problem was that I was unhappy with the chapter. Seemed to me like I'd GMed it poorly, but here we are. The main problem I seem to be having is that I'm not exactly sure when I should override player agency in order to move things forward for the sake of expediency and when I should back off. At this point, it's much more art than science. In any event, I decided to add some of the bits you gave me both in terms of editing suggestions as well as list posts. I'm not sure you'll be entirely happy with it, so let me know if I'm assuming too much player agency, and I'll try to back off. In any case, like I said, I extended the chapter a bit, and so we can continue the scene for a little bit longer, if you'd like. We can put it through another round of editing when we finish it.

Josefeen sat next to me during the descent back into Jewell’s atmosphere. Of course, burning in like a meteor was also a viable option, but I’d already tested the heat shield on the way up, and I didn’t figure it prudent to push my luck, especially with my Intelligence Pod liaison watching my every move. While I’d been rehearsing my speech, I kept thinking about her shaking her head just outside of the Commander's eyeshot, essentially telling me not to continue talking so much about being a psion. I did as she bid and then opted not to question her on it the moment we were alone. So then it bothered me. Meanwhile, she was having the Kinnuki checked over by a surveillance specialist, or so Nizlich had told me. The Commander wanted to come to the surface with us — like myself and Jaamzon, she too had been a fighter jock — but I was already on the schedule; there was no need for her to speak as well, and I needed someone to stay on the ship, someone I could trust in case of an emergency. After all, it would be so like the Zhos to attack while our pants were down around our ankles.

[[OOC; I am wondering is all the sexual imagery is a symptom or side-effect of the tactics that Josefeen has been using on me, given the noted distaste that Gus has expressed with the Admiral making comments about Nizlich, I understand that sex is one of the primary motivators in behavior and Gus has been relationship adverse for a long time, both hurt by the Vanista issue and the enforced celibacy on the return from the misjump. I tend to couch Gus' metaphors in fighter jock lingo]]

Of course, Jaamzon’s service could have just as easily been held on the ship, but Karneticky and Masa, the latter I had yet to meet in person, wanted a big splash. They wanted to invite the public to take a look at Jaamzon’s sacrifice and remember that even in peacetime there is war.

“Damn straight,” Josefeen said.

“What?”

“Uh… you fly damn straight.” She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask why you don’t zigzag a little more. You know, pull some maneuvers like they do in those Kunniki commercials, but then I remembered one doesn’t zigzag on the way to a memorial service unless you’re drunk or really hate whoever died.”

She tugged at the collar of her full dress uniform.

“Yes,” I said, looking at her fingernails. They were long and shaded purple. I wondered how she managed to keep them intact, and as she turned towards me halfway, I could help but notice the movement of her body under her uniform. “Usually I ask for a wider lane for maneuvering and evasive, as well as high speed runs. But, as you say, sober straight flying on the way to a funeral.”

A thought struck me, and I called up the service program to check if there would be a missing man overflight. Masa was pretty good. Not only was there a double squadron pass, but he had tapped my fighter crews for the mission.

I sat back and regarded my Intelligence officer as she stared at me, unblinking.

“Not a lot of call for your full dress?”

[[OOC: this is what I identify as the start of the miscommunication. Gus is a bit of a clothes horse, Josefeen is a junior officer and he is blithely looking for an avenue to have a conversation, and he knows something about this. Gus also knows he endured the uncomfortable uniforms a lot longer than he had to due to the perception around his name. I think I just stepped on a landmine unintentionally, the following exchange does come across as mansplaining, so fair call to Josefeen being annoyed.]]

“Why do you say that?”

“Standard issue dress uniforms are designed to be slightly uncomfortable. A reminder, if you will, of the gravity of wearing them. Wear them often enough, and you will opt for custom tailoring, along with the choice of fabric that looks identical to standard issue, but so much more comfortable to wear. That neck pull you did is a dead giveaway.”

I looked over at her and grinned.

“You think the admirals put up with uncomfortable uniforms all the time? Back when I was a staff officer, the admiral I was assisting had the most nu-tech setup in his uniform, wicking and filtering fabrics, nanoscale temperature exchange, and there was a rumor that the inner layer was leather made from his cloned skin. I was pretty sure that was a story to put the fear in the flag ensigns, but I was never sure.”

“At least he was comfortable in his own skin,” she said.

I chuckled at her joke. “True enough. Myself, I will settle for something a little lower tech, but I do not stint on comfort. Feel in here if you want. The neck is low friction shammersilk.”

I leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck. I was curious if she would take the bait and wondered what I would do if she did. After all, I was giving her the opportunity to touch me, upping the stakes in the flirting game. Perhaps my recent success with Kaz emboldened me. After all, it was safe here, away from prying eyes. [[OOC aaand, she was reading my mind here...possibly drawing the wrong conclusions]]

“Shammersilk, huh?” She gave me a sidelong glance, then, smiling, leaned over, touching my collar. “Oh, this is nice. Very nice.” She leaned in further, somehow sliding herself into my lap while hitting the autopilot. “I’m sorry if I’m being too forward,” she said, very calmly, “but do you really think I’m going to take it from a man that I don’t know how to dress? I’ve got shammersilk ultrasheers on right now. Wanna see?”

Ultrasheers? Weren’t those pantyhose?

She nodded. “And they’re crotchless. Or is that too much information?”

I raised both hands.

[[OOC Gus to be fair, knows when he was out matched. any comment he could have made at that point to respond to her could be construed as harrassing behavior, as they are both in uniform. He tries to call an end to Josefeen's escalation but fails miserabley because he hasn't divined the ulterior motive...]]

“I surrender. I should have known someone with your immaculate sense of style would be on top of things. I ask forgiveness with my poor, doltish ways. I am after all, merely a captain in the Navy." I held her eye for a beat. “And yes, too much information. It’s me giving this eulogy, not you.”

“We don’t have time, anyway,” she said, gripping my collar in both hands. “After the ceremony, you can take me to Silver City or maybe that corpse volcano you flew over.¹ Then we can go get some barbecue. But before any of that can happen, I’m going to need you to do something. It’s important you follow my instructions, if you want to serve the Emperor as a Captain in the Imperial Navy and not someone who’s being institutionalized for having psychotic hallucinations, which is something I can make happen; not that I want to, of course. I want to work with you. I very much want for the two of us to become a team. But right now we have a big problem. You know what that problem is, don’t you?”

[[OOC whoops there go the stakes, invoking the power of the Naval Intelligence dark side as secret anvy police, but also her actions don't really mesh with her words, this is when I, Conrad, began to suspect, and so Gus was in a mixed message environment]]

Just one problem? Let’s see. “I exposed myself to an unknown, active psionic device? Admiral Karenticky is behaving erratically and endangering an alliance with the Stavelots? Someone might be planning an uprising to undermine the local vargr population? I should have kept Nizlich out of the loop? I set myself up with a child of the Great Impregnator? These are just a few of my current problems.”

“You poor dear.”

“Seriously, after everything that’s happened to me since I’ve arrived, maybe I should be institutionalized. But yes, I would prefer to remain a captain if that’s still an option. Let me add, however, that threats like that are unnecessary, and I think a little beneath you.”

 [[OOC Gus trying to get things under control and remind her ever so slightly of the rank difference she is ripping up in her desire to complete her objective, which was the motivation to mention the threats as over bearing]]

“I didn’t want you to freak out and hit me.”

“I reserve the right to, though when it happens, it’ll be in a sparring ring, not because I am freaking out, although I reserve the right to do that too.” I took a deep breath. “Great Cleon, you’re not going to tell me I had a personality overlay, are you?”

 [[OOC Conrad's little bit of humor and call out to classic adventure Expedition to Zhodane, which I am sure was a Naval Intelligence covert mission]]

She grinned, still perched on my lap but now straddling me. “Sir, why do you think there were psionic toys in your overhead bin? Did you put them there? No.” She shook her head. “Did the prior captain leave them there? That would be awfully forgetful of him, wouldn’t it? And what was that bubble thing? By the way, it’s called a psi orb. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one before. Haven’t you?”

[[OOC and we're back in X-Files territory with the intimation of a conspiracy moving around me in the shadows, but at the same time, she is showing her hand that she has access to what was sold as a captain's only secure storage, so there's that supporting Gus' mistrust and takes her down a notch in the trust category. The reference to my aunt means that this is all in my Intelligence file and others knew it but were keeping it from me. Lot of betrayal is being revealed here, especially from the Navy as a whole. Might affect further characterizations...]]

“Uhhhhh…” The memory hit me like a brick to the skull. “No, Augie! No!” Aunt Arguaski had yelled, and I cried and cried, not understanding what had I done wrong. Normally, whenever I’d been yelled at, it was in that stern commanding voice parents reserve for misbehaving children, but this was different. It must have been the first time I’d heard an adult lose their shit.

Which meant she hadn’t planned for me to find it. She was just being untidy. Well, she lived alone, so that was her right, but even with small children it can consequences.

“I never really understood what my aunt was trying to get through to me,” I said. How long did Naval Intel know about this? Was it in some file they had on me? “I am not trying to be difficult here,” I said, suddenly feeling rather naked. “Exposure to that thing, the psi orb, unlocked some hidden, possibly suppressed memories.”

Who do you want to be when you grow up? The warrior or the wizard?²

I remembered choosing the warrior over the wizard, and how my great aunt seemed disappointed.

“You don’t have to choose,” Josefeen said. “You can be both. Just like Olav.”

I blinked, for a moment too stunned to respond.

 [[OOC this was a great reveal, the most overt reference to mindreading so far, so I had Gus finally get it...]]

“Okay, I am now officially freaked out. What do you mean, just like Olav?"

I knew historically that psions had been more open in Olav's time. He predated the Psionics Suppressions³ by almost two centuries, but nothing had ever suggested that he was a psion.

“Except for his ability to dodge enemy fleets with such ease,” Josefeen said, leaning into me in a way reminiscent of the dream woman. Her perfume was subtle but so arousing I couldn’t help but wonder if it was laced with synthetic sex pheromones.

“Um, I notice you are trying to get physically closer to me.”

[[OOC VERY suspicious, since she seems to be recreating the scene from my dream when she was extracting my memory, and that is triggering a panic reaction from Gus]]

“Your powers of observation do you credit,” she replied, her breasts now mere centimeters from the tip of my nose. “I could hear what you’ve been thinking about these, by the way. I seem to remember the word bathykolpian came to mind?⁴ If I may, sir, I’d like to take this opportunity to compliment you on your extensive vocabulary.”

“Thanks.” Holy Mother of Cleon. She was a psion!

“Not meaning to break the mood, but I need to ask you a very important question, and it’s important that you answer honestly. How long was it between the time you discovered the orb and the time you told me about it?”

It had been about two days, but admitting it would pretty squarely put me in violation of Navy Regulations, and her mentioning hearing me think as well as demonstrating it multiple times made me suddenly drop into command mode. After all, what if she were a Zhodani agent?

“Enough,” I put my hands against her stomach. “Hands off, Lieutenant. This is not how we are going to be doing things.” I pushed, but as she got up, cooperating, or so I thought, she leaned forward again, holding the back of my chair for leverage to lift herself off me, and then I felt it, a sharp pain in my neck, like I’d been stuck with a needle. She had the polymer hypogun in hand as she pulled herself away, the same one that had been in my so-called secret stash. [[OOC Gus attempt to re-assert command of the situation is derailed as she injects me with something without my consent. I am fairly sure this is a massive regualtion break and might be the leverage I use to trash her career.]]

“I lied, Captain,” she said as a wave of disorientation hit me. “I’m not wearing shammersilk, and I don’t go crotchless unless there’s a damn good reason, and you aren’t one. But two days, sir?” You know that’s unacceptable.

The disorientation slowly subsided, and that last sentence she didn’t say out loud. She thought it.

That’s right. And no, I’m not a Zhodani Agent. Your psionics were activated for a reason. We’ve been testing you for a reason. And, yes, I’m the succubus, but I was under orders, because you were taking too long to come to me. You have not proven yourself trustworthy, sir. And we need you to be, because we need you for a mission.

 

[[OOC this sounds like CYA all the way down to Gus, even as he is trying to adjust to sudden psi drug infusion]]

[[OOC: this is very much in line with my thinking and I am fine with the previous exchange and leaving it as an agree to disagree situation. Maybe she's just jealous of Kaz...I was chased and caught in that situation more of just not saying no than anything else, taking advantage of an opportunity offered.]]

I am relieved, sir, that we are of the same mind. You appear to be past the disorientation. You can open your eyes anytime.

I’d forgotten I’d closed them, so immersed I was in our telepathic conversation. We were at rest in a parking bay, similar to the one I’d entered on my way to see the Yard Commander. How long had we been sitting here? And would I run into the admiral again and scare him half to death?

He’s been understandably nervous. She hit a button, and the Kinnuki’s doors opened. Do you feel steady enough to walk?

I got out. The cement felt spongy, or maybe it was my legs, and off in the distance, I could hear what sounded like a thousand little whispers. She reached inside and grabbed my valise as well as a small case with the Imperial Starburst prominently emblazoned on one side. It was a diplomatic pouch, basically something it was assumed we would be handing to the Countess or some member of the Imperial bureaucracy on Jewell.

Admiral Karneticky had a falling out with the Stavelots, she thought as we ascended some stairs.

I’d heard something about an aargvark incident.⁵

Open your mind to me.

How do I do that? We approached a customs checkpoint, the memory of my conversation with Kaz flashing to mind.

“A giant sabertooth aardvark,” she’d said. “The wedding was postponed and then eventually canceled.”

Just about the whole planet knows, at least those who matter, but the real heart of the story is that the admiral froze.

“Froze?”

The customs clerk looked at me, his eyebrows squished together.

“It’s cold,” I explained. It was, mildly.

He took my visitor authorization card, ran it through a card reader, and handed it back. Meanwhile, my valise went through a scanner, but her diplomatic pouch was spared. She simply put it on a little table to the left of the full body scanner, then picked it up once she was on the other side, the guards only stopping her to scan a little chip embedded at the starburst’s center.

He froze, she picked up the story as we walked toward an escalator. When the aargvark struck, Karneticky was right there with a gun in his hands, but he froze, and so Amika shielded the Countess with her own body. That’s how she got so messed up. And that’s the story they’re all whispering, and it’s essentially the truth, as far as I’ve been able to determine.

---

That explains a lot actually.

I tried out thinking intentionally, and reached for the spot at the back of my head and turned my focus on Josefeen. Looking for something, seeing what was there.At worst, I would feel what a psi shield felt like, at best, some little nugget would be revealed. Time to stop reacting and start acting.

Olav was a psion? That made a lot of sense too. I considered how effectively the Imperial anti-psionic attitudes had created a lot of blind spots in history. I thought back to my two encounters with enemy psions during the war, and remembered the feeling of terror ratcheting up as I threw resources at an enemy that I couldn't fully counter. And now I had the power, and I had a handler that was loose in her use of the power and manipulative to boot. This was going to be interesting.

(Gus's response to this can be purely mental if you like, or if you choose to have him speak, that's fine, but you're now in a public space, so someone may overhear. And by the way, in case you haven't noticed, I moved the whole thing from the naval base to the starport. I figured it just made more sense, since the venue is close to the starport.)

1 See the 2^nd page of Chapter 26 in A&E #574.

2 See the 4^th page of Chapter 17 in A&E #565.

3 https://wiki.travellerrpg.com/Psionics_Suppressions

4 See the 2^nd page of Chapter 4, in A&E #552.

5 See the 5^th page of Chapter 22 in A&E #570.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

[Thanks for your comments. The two big questions that are emerging for me are (1) this question over how to handle the tradeoff between maintaining player agency over protagonist thoughts, words, and actions versus running roughshod for the sake of expediency (in order to move things along) and (1) the question over what scenes to play out in detail versus summarizing (again, in order to move things along). There must be some set of heuristics I'm subconsciously applying, and it might help to try to identify these so I can be more systematic or perhaps try to figure out in what cases they apply well versus those cases where they don't seem to apply as well so that we can openly discuss all this and analyze and negotiate the unspoken methodology that's being employed. In short, I really don't know what I'm doing. But here we go anyway.]

That explained so much, and as we stepped onto the escalator, I couldn’t help but imagine what sort of arguments this tragedy must have spawned. After all, Karneticky had failed in his primary duty as a man, which was to protect his chosen mate. And as if that weren’t bad enough, he in the same instant failed in his professional duty as well, for he’d failed to protect the Countess.

If he had any honor, he'd have retired in dishonor, but instead he was clinging to his rank. After all, he had only just been promoted. Thanks to Jewell’s tight media controls, what had happened was not yet generally known, and the admiral apparently hoped to keep it that way. He wanted to move past this episode, to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Above all else, he didn’t want it to be the thing for which he’d be remembered.

The escalator was wide enough that two people could move along side-by-side, but one side was apparently reserved as a passing lane, so people who were in a hurry could walk past those who weren’t. Since neither of us were familiar with where to go, we stood in the slow lane and paid attention to the signs, Josefeen consulting her wristcom, even though there was no wayfinder to lead the way. With her thus distracted, I tried thinking intentionally, reaching for that window in the back of my mind and turning my focus on her, trying to reach out and explore her mind as she had explored mine. At worst, I’d get snagged by a psi shield, and at best, some little nugget would be revealed. It was time to stop reacting and start acting. So I reached out, the psionic tentacle now extending from my mind into hers like an extra appendage which I never even knew I had.

“He could become as powerful a psion as was Olav.”

“This way,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “We have to get on the one to the stadium.”

We’d entered some sort of escalator interchange, and I quickly followed her footsteps, changing lanes until we were presumably going in the right direction. All the while, I could feel my synapses buzzing, scarcely able to believe that whatever I had just done had apparently worked.

As powerful a psion as Olav?

The Psionics Suppressions had apparently created some blind spots in Imperial history, and Olav must have been one of these. I thought back to my two encounters with enemy psions during the war and remembered the feeling of terror ratcheting up as I threw resources at an enemy I couldn’t fully counter or even understand. And now I had this power as well as a handler who was loose in its use and manipulative to boot. This was going to be interesting.

You’re going to need to be trained. She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“What is it you need me to do?”

The Zhos don’t know you’re a psion, so they’re going to use one against you to find out what we know and get a heads up on where the Jaqueline is going next. Odds are, they’ll try to set up another ambush. Someone was caught on surveillance hanging around your hotel room last night, no doubt expecting you to show up. She’ll likely try again, and when she does, you’re going to be ready for her, and you’re going to get into her head, and eventually, weather it’s through this operative, her handler, or someone else, we’re going to find out where they’re hiding the Vermillion Stance.

[Conrad Rader]

On Wed, Sep 20, 2023 at 1:58 AM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

[Thanks for your comments. The two big questions that are emerging for me are (1) this question over how to handle the tradeoff between maintaining player agency over protagonist thoughts, words, and actions versus running roughshod for the sake of expediency (in order to move things along) and (1) the question over what scenes to play out in detail versus summarizing (again, in order to move things along). There must be some set of heuristics I'm subconsciously applying, and it might help to try to identify these so I can be more systematic or perhaps try to figure out in what cases they apply well versus those cases where they don't seem to apply as well so that we can openly discuss all this and analyze and negotiate the unspoken methodology that's being employed. In short, I really don't know what I'm doing. But here we go anyway.]

[I appreciate the feedback; the joy of learning new things. So far, I feel my Gus mindset has been appreciated and I have had plenty of opportunity to suggest details or choose where to focus, which is to say, I have the fun job and don't mind if you step in when you have an idea you want to explore as well. The sessions with Kaz showed how we could take a delicate position and work it out, and judging from the comments in A&E people were surprised and pleased, or at least that was my impression. So let's continue not exactly knowing what we are doing, but having a good time finding out.]

 

That explained so much, and as we stepped onto the escalator, I couldn’t help but imagine what sort of arguments this tragedy must have spawned. After all, Karneticky had failed in his primary duty as a man, which was to protect his chosen mate. And as if that weren’t bad enough, he in the same instant failed in his professional duty as well, for he’d failed to protect the Countess.

If he had any honor, he'd have retired in dishonor, but instead he was clinging to his rank. After all, he had only just been promoted. Thanks to Jewell’s tight media controls, what had happened was not yet generally known, and the admiral apparently hoped to keep it that way. He wanted to move past this episode, to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Above all else, he didn’t want it to be the thing for which he’d be remembered.

[[Suggested rewrite:

That explained so much. As we stepped on the elevator, my mind swirled with the arguments and implications this tragedy had spawned. Karenticky had failed, publicly, in front of his patron and fiancee. Frozen when he had been expected to act, to protect, and he let the consequences fall on an innocent, even worse, his partner. And then he abandoned her.

If he had any mettle, he'd have accepted the dishonor and retired, but instead he was clinging to his rank. He had been recently promoted after all. Thanks to...[[the rest is the same]]

The escalator was wide enough that two people could move along side-by-side, but one side was apparently reserved as a passing lane, so people who were in a hurry could walk past those who weren’t. Since neither of us were familiar with where to go, we stood in the slow lane and paid attention to the signs, Josefeen consulting her wristcom, even though there was no wayfinder to lead the way. With her thus distracted, I tried thinking intentionally, reaching for that window in the back of my mind and turning my focus on her, trying to reach out and explore her mind as she had explored mine. At worst, I’d get snagged by a psi shield, and at best, some little nugget would be revealed. It was time to stop reacting and start acting. So I reached out, the psionic tentacle now extending from my mind into hers like an extra appendage which I never even knew I had.

“He could become as powerful a psion as was Olav.”

“This way,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “We have to get on the one to the stadium.”

We’d entered some sort of escalator interchange, and I quickly followed her footsteps, changing lanes until we were presumably going in the right direction. All the while, I could feel my synapses buzzing, scarcely able to believe that whatever I had just done had apparently worked.

As powerful a psion as Olav?

The Psionics Suppressions had apparently created some blind spots in Imperial history, and Olav must have been one of these. I thought back to my two encounters with enemy psions during the war and remembered the feeling of terror ratcheting up as I threw resources at an enemy I couldn’t fully counter or even understand. And now I had this power as well as a handler who was loose in its use and manipulative to boot. This was going to be interesting.

You’re going to need to be trained. She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“What is it you need me to do?”

The Zhos don’t know you’re a psion, so they’re going to use one against you to find out what we know and get a heads up on where the Jaqueline is going next. Odds are, they’ll try to set up another ambush. Someone was caught on surveillance hanging around your hotel room last night, no doubt expecting you to show up. She’ll likely try again, and when she does, you’re going to be ready for her, and you’re going to get into her head, and eventually, weather it’s through this operative, her handler, or someone else, we’re going to find out where they’re hiding the Vermillion Stance.

I blinked.

This had better be some hot shit training you have cooked up if you want me to engage Zho agents. Even the Navy gave me a few years to make sure I knew how to fly a fighter. I just had a couple of days to get used to the idea and I am still freaked out about this.

I did notice that I had started trying to do whatever this is, mindspeak?

What's the difference between you hearing me think at you and just hearing me think? Don't think I haven't noticed you listening to my thoughts. I can't exactly hear you except.. not hear... I need a new vocabulary here.

The Vermillion Stance. Surveillance operatives. Jaamzon. I remembered the incident when I encountered the floating entity and thought hard about the details.

Did you know THAT was going to happen when you activated me?

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[Jim Vassilakos]

I'm out of town but will get a response out by Saturday.

[Jim Vassilakos]

That explained so much. As we stepped on the escalator, my mind swirled with the arguments and implications this tragedy had spawned. Karenticky had failed, publicly, in front of his patron and fiancée. Frozen when he had been expected to act, to protect, and he let the consequences fall on an innocent, even worse, his partner. And then he abandoned her.

If he had any mettle, he’d have accepted the dishonor and retired, but instead he was clinging to his rank. He had been recently promoted after all. Thanks to Jewell’s tight media controls, what had happened was not yet generally known, and the admiral apparently hoped to keep it that way. He wanted to move past this episode, to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Above all else, he didn’t want it to be the thing for which he’d be remembered.

The escalator was wide enough that two people could move along side-by-side, but one side was apparently reserved as a passing lane, so people who were in a hurry could walk past those who weren’t. Since neither of us were familiar with where to go, we stood in the slow lane and paid attention to the signs, Josefeen consulting her wristcom, even though there was no wayfinder to lead the way. With her thus distracted, I tried thinking intentionally, reaching for that window in the back of my mind and turning my focus on her, trying to reach out and explore her mind as she had explored mine. At worst, I’d get snagged by a psi shield, and at best, some little nugget would be revealed. It was time to stop reacting and start acting. So I reached out, the psionic tentacle now extending from my mind into hers like an extra appendage which I never even knew I had.

“He could become as powerful a psion as was Olav.”

“This way,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “We have to get on the one to the stadium.”

We’d entered some sort of escalator interchange, and I quickly followed her footsteps, changing lanes until we were presumably going in the right direction. All the while, I could feel my synapses buzzing, scarcely able to believe that whatever I had just done had apparently worked.

As powerful a psion as Olav?

The Psionics Suppressions had apparently created some blind spots in Imperial history, and Olav must have been one of these. I thought back to my two encounters with enemy psions during the war and remembered the feeling of terror ratcheting up as I threw resources at an enemy I couldn’t fully counter or even understand. And now I had this power as well as a handler who was loose in its use and manipulative to boot. This was going to be interesting.

You’re going to need to be trained. She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“What is it you need me to do?”

The Zhos don’t know you’re a psion, so they’re going to use one against you to find out what we know and get a heads up on where the Jaqueline is going next. Odds are, they’ll try to set up another ambush. Someone was caught on surveillance hanging around your hotel room last night, no doubt expecting you to show up. She’ll likely try again, and when she does, you’re going to be ready for her, and you’re going to get into her head, and eventually, weather it’s through this operative, her handler, or someone else, we’re going to find out where they’re hiding the Vermillion Stance.

I blinked.

This had better be some hot shit training you have cooked up if you want me to engage Zho agents. Even the Navy gave me a few years to make sure I knew how to fly a fighter. I just had a couple of days to get used to the idea and I am still freaked out about this.

I didn’t know Plankwells got freaked out.

Well, this one does.

I noticed I’d started mind-speaking, or whatever it was called. It was just like thinking out words as if one were saying them. But what was the difference between that and just thinking? What’s the difference between you hearing me think at you and just hearing me think?

People think in different ways, mostly ideas and images, but sometimes smells, tastes, and sounds, but the subset of sounds we call words is almost always present. The human brain is a language using machine.

So you can hear everything I think? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you listening to my thoughts. I can’t exactly hear you except… not hear… I need a new vocabulary for this.

Time for Lesson #1. Can you sense the aperture in the back of your mind?

Aperture? The window? I nodded.

Close it.

I didn’t know how.

Just do it.

I imagined reaching my hand out. There was nothing there to close, but I could draw an imaginary curtain over it, and as I did, our connection suddenly snapped. I could feel it, a little pop in the back of the mind, barely perceptible, but the energy between us immediately dissipated. Nonetheless, she remained facing the long windows to the right, still looking at me out of the corner of her eye as the escalator belt ushered us forward. Outside the rows of transpex windows flanking the corridor on either side, Heron seemed to be bathed in a muted, red glow. The haze was so thick, it veiled the skyscrapers, giving them an almost ghostlike quality. Meanwhile, a tall man — he wore a jacket with a string of letters on the back spelling nothing — jogged by us, using the passing lane. He must have been late for work.

“That’s your natural shield,” Josefeen said. “Now open it again.”

I reached out with my imaginary hand and, grasping the idea of the curtain over the window, I yanked it forcefully aside. The window was open again.

Do you read me?

I nodded as the coming and going belts turned and split in opposite directions. We were now in yet another corridor, but this one had a bend to it, and there were intersecting corridors every so often on the left: A-1–A-5, then A-6–A-10.

“We’re looking for D-10,” Josefeen said. Now for Lesson #2. See if you can sense me coming in.

The bend in the corridor straightened out, half my attention on where we were in the here and now and the other half on the aperture in my mind. Then, as we passed B-1–B-5, I felt her finger in the book of my memories, leafing back to my younger self, the version of me she’d discovered during my nap.

Who’s that?

[Jim Vassilakos]

(If Gus doesn’t want to answer, he could just pull the curtain again.)

[Conrad Rader]

I put my 'hand' on the 'curtain', but then paused. I focused on the feelings I called 'fingers' and tried to trace them back. I wasn't worried right now about what the consequences were. They wanted me to interact. I needed to know what foreign feeling were and how to differentiate them from my own

That's... well, hard to explain, but I think that is the me that could have been. 

Have I changed so much? I looked at the meeker image, the scared and scarred child. I didn't have a physical scar [[correct me if I'm misremembering]] so was this a wound of the mind? Did I turn to the warrior because of this, or did the turn cause this? I wondered what other memories I had repressed? I thought about my sudden declaration of "what are you doing out". That seemed to imply I did know who this was at some level, but I had a hard time consciously thinking about it. It was somewhat disconcerting being a stranger in your own mind.

You're sure I don't have a personality overlay?

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[Jim Vassilakos]

 “We’re looking for Section H-1,” Josefeen said. Now for Lesson #2. See if you can sense me coming in.

The bend in the corridor straightened out, half my attention on where we were in the here and now and the other half focused on the aperture in my mind. Then, as we passed B-1–B-5, I felt her finger in the book of my memories, leafing back to my younger self, the version of me she’d discovered during my nap.

Who’s that?

I reached for the curtain but then paused, focusing instead on her finger or whatever it was that seemed to be able to leaf through my mind. It was like a tentacle more than a finger, a tentacle of psychic energy, and as I traced it back to the aperture in the back of my mind, my eyes found hers. We must have looked rather odd, two people staring intently at one another on an escalator.

People will think we’re in love. She smiled. By the way, sir, if you don’t mind me thinking the obvious, that girl Vanista was a Class-A User. My way or the highway, type. I respect it. I may even be it. But one also needs to know when one is being unreasonable. You know what I’m saying?

[Conrad Rader]

I curled my psychic fingers around the tentacle and squeezed. I knew I was not using all my strength, so I decided to slightly pull as well. Lessons might go both ways after all.

You, and others, may think whatever you wish. Your opinions on my past and motivations, you may keep to yourself, Lieutenant.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

You, and others, may think whatever you wish. Your opinions on my past and motivations, you may keep to yourself, Lieutenant.

Ooh, I apparently touched a sore spot.

I curled imaginary fingers around her psychic tentacle and squeezed, pulling slightly. I wasn’t trying to use all my strength, but I wanted to see how she would react. Lessons could go both ways, after all.

You want to hurt me because she hurt you?

[Conrad Rader]

I want to see if this hurts because I am being trained for a mission to infiltrate someone else's trained head. It's not all about you, Lieutenant, it's about seeing the limits of what I have to work with. What are my weapons, what I can do with them. Also, thanks for confirming that this hurts.

I released my grip on the tentacle and closed the curtain.Firmly pushing the tentacle out.

"That's enough for now. The Navy is under scrutiny here, no need to add to the bill for the Countess and her 

On Sep 29, 2023, at 11:45 AM, Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:



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[Jim Vassilakos]

I want to see if this hurts because I am being tapped for a mission to infiltrate someone else’s trained head. It’s not all about you, Lieutenant. It’s about seeing the limits of what I have to work with. What are my weapons? What can I do with them? Also, thanks for confirming this hurts. I released my grip and closed the curtain, her psychic tentacle immediately dissipating.

“That’s enough for now,” I said. “The Navy is under scrutiny here.”

I would say ‘Aye aye, sir,’ but this is part of your training.

Obviously, I could still hear her thoughts, at least those she psionically projected, despite my window curtain being in the closed position.

Can you hear me?

Perhaps, if I found some psionic lumber and hardware, I could construct a more durable and hopefully thought-proof barrier.

Sir, do you read me?

[Conrad Rader]

Make up your mind Lieutenant, is it hear or read?

I tried whispering in my mind on my side of the curtain.

I knew I was being unpleasant, but if Abbonnette thought I was just going to knuckle under to her demands, well, Intelligence was supposed to be her department. There were protocols for a junior officer exercising command authority over seniors. This was the Navy, there were protocols for everything and the precedents for these protocols were written in the unlikely scenarios that occur when real, bloody, life is happening and when everything is in the pot and extraordinary individuals rise to the occasion. Last man standing on the bridge of a battle group directing weapons fire from the remains because they have the only targeting link, and that was a gunner's mate relaying to a commodore. Suffice it to say, I had not seen any of these protocols being produced, just some blackmail and unwelcome physical manipulations. Intelligence was good however at manufacturing authorization trails to cover need it now situations

I could make it easier on her, but I was a captain, and my job was making sure my officers were up to their jobs. I would cooperate but I didn't have to make it easy. Not to mention in the eyes of Intelligence, I was currently more valuable for my psi ability than my other qualities.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Sir, there’s a lot for you to learn, so it’s important that you keep the aperture open, especially while the psi-enhancer is in effect. And please accept my apologies, sir, for my assertiveness. I overreacted. Psi-enhancers can have psychological side effects, basically contributing to that sort of thing in Type-A’s like us. It’s a good thing we’re not a couple, or we’d probably kill each other.

[Conrad Rader]

Don't try to distract me with tempting alternatives. I tried sending a series of memories of some of the battle deaths I had seen, with her image pasted in. Spacing the Zho commandos seemed appropriate to the circumstances. I watched her reactions. Would this be an effective tactic to the unsuspecting?

I parted the curtains somewhat. Opening the aperture, noted down the admission of psychological side effects of psi-enhancer under duress conditions for my after action report.

Fine. I am in your care Lieutenant. Try and make it so I have a shot at getting out the other side of this without a future of sitting and drooling in a cup if you please.

On Mon, Oct 2, 2023 at 12:55 PM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

Sir, there’s a lot for you to learn, so it’s important that you keep the aperture open, especially while the psi-enhancer is in effect. And please accept my apologies, sir, for my assertiveness. I overreacted. Psi-enhancers can have psychological side effects, basically contributing to that sort of thing in Type-A’s like us. It’s a good thing we’re not a couple, or we’d probably kill each other.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Don’t try to distract me with tempting alternatives.

I tried sending a series of memories of some of the battle deaths I’d seen, except with her face pasted in. The time we spaced some Zho commandos seemed particularly appropriate. It must have worked, because she wrinkled her nose and swallowed hard.

Would this be an effective tactic to the unsuspecting?

It would only inform other telepaths they’ve been detected, which is not the goal. I need to teach you to detect them and then control what you give them, but before I can do that, we need to form a durable psychic link.

Fine. I am in your care Lieutenant. Try and make it so I have a shot at getting out the other side of this without a future of sitting and drooling in a cup if you please. Now how do we form a durable psychic link?

We need to psychically embrace. In short, you need to welcome me into your mind.

Her psychic tentacle once more ventured through the window.

Imagine kissing me, however difficult that may be.

(lol)

[Conrad Rader]

Does all your psychic advice need to be sex related, or is that just what you default to?

Durable psychic link. I could feel my suspicions and fears rising again. If I let her in, how do I get her out again.

Fine. Even though I feel like you are sticking your hand up my ass to puppet me around. I let her have that image as well, I'll do my best.

I conjured up the memory of a pleasant kiss with Vanista and transferred that to the psychic presence of Abbonnette in my head. I could feel the 'feelings' adhere. I tried to attach a more workable image of attaching a fuel hose to my fighter. Just because she had sex on the brain doesn't mean I had to follow suit. After all, I loved the fighter too. It kept me alive. Arguably the more stable of my relationships.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Does all your psychic advice need to be sex related, or is that just what you default to?

Like the psi-enhancer, it’s a shortcut.

Fine. Even though I feel like you are sticking your hand up my ass to puppet me around. I let her have that image as well. I’ll do my best.

I conjured up the memory of a pleasant kiss with Vanista and transferred that to the psychic presence of Abbonette. But something wasn’t working. I tried to attach a more workable image of attaching a fuel hose to my fighter. Just because she had sex on the brain didn’t mean I had to follow suit. After all, I loved flying. And my career was arguably the most stable of my relationships.

I said a kiss! I don’t want you sticking your thing into… “H-1 to H-5,” she almost shouted, pointing with one hand while dragging me off the escalator with the other. We manged to get off the belt without stumbling, and soon we were on a smaller one, which ran perpendicular to the first and descended down a long tube with landings every dozen meters or so: Section H-5, then Section H-4, then Section H-3.

A kiss. She tapped my shoulder. And no tongue, or I’ll smack you into next week.

[Jim Vassilakos]

let me know if this is bugging you. not opposed rewinding time a little bit and running at it from a different angle. was aiming for levity, but maybe it missed.

[Conrad Rader]

[[no no, I am getting the levity, she is responding exactly how I hoped she would. Just wanted to put her off a little, Gus is not meek, he is polite, but he is a command driven fighter pilot who survived the war, I think he spends a LOT of time reining himself in, and the violation he's going through with her in his mind is a lot to deal with]]

Look, it might be easy for you, but regardless of what you think you know of me, I am not an easy guy. I pulled a deep breath. Look, we are off on the wrong foot in so many ways. I will try and be mindful (hah) of what you are trying to do. But I don't trust you, and relationships built on wet sand are bound to wash away at the first tide.

How many psions have you trained this way?

Regardless. I will do my duty. In the end, we all do our duty, after all, and if I am to trust you, I will start there. You are doing your duty as you see fit.

I tried the kiss again, feeling like I did when I was a child, kissing my aunt when I saw her again after a long absence. I felt my hackles soothing as I dug in my memories for the image of my smiling aunt.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Look, this might be easy for you, but regardless of what you think you know about me, I am not an easy guy.

Define easy.

[Conrad Rader]

I wondered what the psychic image of nonplussed looked like from the other side.

Never mind.

I focussed on the kissing again. I wondered if psionics had gotten involved with the pleasure cults I had heard about in school and if that was the real reason they were forced out of the public eye. Were the Zhodani a bunch of hedonists? It never really occurred to me. It was a little humbling, realizing that there was this vast other way of being that had literally never occurred to me.

I drew the curtain around Abbonette's psychic appendage, wondering if that would help with the whole process.

I was starting to get curious about what the possibilities were here.

On Wed, Oct 4, 2023 at 9:16 PM Jim Vassilakos <jim.vas...@gmail.com> wrote:

Look, this might be easy for you, but regardless of what you think you know about me, I am not an easy guy.

Define easy.

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[Jim Vassilakos]

Ch 34 (expanded version):
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1H9imiDQmg2KLTKhO-7whipkTQiIDcJ2B/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=113687616933633107445&rtpof=true&sd=true

PLEASE REMEMBER to change "EDITING" to "SUGGESTING" (near the upper right-hand corner) before doing any edits.

Ch 35 has been started here: https://groups.google.com/g/plankwell-pbem-s1/c/abS2L8T1aCs/m/bvFj9PsFAwAJ