Unfortunately, the answers I got weren't very helpful.
"I really don't know why V1P3R wants Xing. I did my own research. Nothing there that speaks to me about what they could offer, so maybe it's just the fellow's own whim. Which is pretty typical of him."
"V1P3R is V1P3R. Mean fucker that doesn't play nice."
"You can't stop him. He's unfortunately that snake in the grass that somehow keeps slithering away the moment you think you've got him. It's practically a rite of passage for my buddies to smash his face in at least once. An initiation trial if you will."
"So you admit that you're part of HORUS."
The vtuber face flatly blinked. "I mean, yeah. I don't think I've been hiding that. What are you, stupid?"
Yeah, I guess she had a point there. I buried my face into my hands and exhaled into my fingers, thinking. This was going nowhere, it felt like I was hitting a wall and everything was just bouncing back. Nothing was sticking.
Alright. Let's shake up the approach and actually think- what was the information I really was seeking? Did I actually need to understand why HORUS was here? What was my goal in seeking out that information?
...To get rid of them. That's right, my questions were all structured around the idea that whatever this incident had been, resolving it in a swiftly manner could bury this entire mess. Like it would somehow convince the lancer behind me that she wasn't needed anymore, that she'd just pack up her things and leave. The reality was very much the opposite.
She was looking like she was going to stick around, what with establishing a seeming base here. Which meant I think I should be asking about her instead. "So if V1P3R comes back, you'll be facing up against him again?"
"Hm, maybe? Probably?" she wondered aloud before snorting. "Yeah, no, definitely. He's a dick. Nobody in my circle of contacts likes him."
"I'm guessing he's-" I paused, then shook my head. "No, sorry. It doesn't matter how he got your organization's equipment, does it? All that matters is that he has access to those designs and nothing can stop him from making more then."
"Yep." Luna dragged out before giggling. "You know, when you put it that way, he's less like a snake and more like a cockroach. One that just keeps popping back up no matter how hard you squish him."
"I suppose there's at least a constant there," I muttered, not at all happy to confirm that for sure. Guess that meant any sort of illusion of us returning to total digital security was pretty much shot unless I went full iron-fist dictator with the omninet. Which would just suck. "Hm. I guess all we can do is offer to maybe hire you on as our security consultant in that regard."
"Oh, that's a tempting gig." Her avatar made a thoughtful sound before eventually settling for a shake of the head. "But sorry, I'm already with an agency, in a sense. Can't just job hop that easily."
That earned a curious look from me. "Really now? I'd have thought you to be an indie sort of persona."
"Wow, you actually know the industry? Didn't take you for one to actually be familiar!" Only because of my prior world. "Well, I guess you can call me independent, but I do still have a manager I work with. He's the one who sets me up and tells me what to do to lead me to success!"
"Pardon me," Veronica cut-in with a dry note, "But I think your manager might be doing a rather...sub-optimal job, given your lacking audience numbers. According to research, is that not an indication of a 'poor' showing?"
"Hey!" Suddenly Luna's face practically filled the screen as she all but slammed into the perspective of the camera. "You take that back! My manager's the best bud ever!"
"A friend who happens to send you, without any support, to face a threat that almost overpowered you. He doesn't sound as supportive as he needs be."
"He's a real busy guy! He's got a lot on his plate, so he trusts me a lot when it comes to handling this bullcrap! 'sides, I only struggled cuz I'm actually not a Goblin pilot."
I perked up that that little reveal and lightly tapped against my blinking lapel to forestall Veronica for a brief moment. "You don't prefer your current ride?"
"Hell no, it's so fu-freaking hot and cramped," Luna grumbled, catching herself mid-swear. "I can do it, but I'm just not a fan."
"Really now. But you showed up in one?"
"Cuz that stupid snake stole my last ride and I had a flight to catch. So I couldn't go to one of my chums to print a replacement." She blew a rather low raspberry. "It suckkkksss. I'd rather stream a rage troll game, but well, time was short. Guess I was lucky I had a backup suit at all."
I suppose I was very grateful for that too, given that if she hadn't intruded before, Erica might not have survived that little hack. Ah, on that regard, there was something I did want to clarify. "Are you aware that Harrison Armory might be looking to put a bounty on you? Even if you fought to help them, they might still want to take you in for a 'job offer' you can't refuse."
In response, Luna cheekily stuck out her tongue and raised a single finger. Immediately, her auto-censor program pixelated said digit. "I'd like to see them try with their shi- shiitake mess of a firewall."
Veronica asked the question that I had been holding back out of courtesy. "Why do you censor yourself? It supposedly goes against the creed of your organization, does it not?"
"Hey, I'm trying to be family-friendly. You get way more mainstream that way."
Somehow, I think she crossed that line ages ago when she started hacking megacorporations.
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The only other real things of substance from that conversation was just mainly confirming that she'd be here to stay for a little bit, for the time being, and that we could at least dial to setup for a meeting ahead of time. Though I had a feeling that Luna could probably just as easily breach our own servers to casually insert herself into whatever conversation she wanted. So it probably was probably more 'I could if I wanted, I'm just trying to be polite about it.'
Thanks, I guess.
I considered tasking somebody with watching her livestream non-stop, then realized that her live editing trick proved that whatever was being shown on camera might not even be the real thing. That was the big advantage, I imagine, of choosing to be a vtuber over a traditional streamer; you could be doing anything behind that cartoon avatar and few would be any the wiser. So there wasn't really a point in forcing folks to watch.
Ah, but what if there were eyes watching willing? I mean, I personally wasn't a livestream watcher, but there might be folks on this planet who were. If they tuned in on their own volition to watch whatever Luna got up to around Cavia, then there perhaps was a chance that her chaos could at least be monitored...ish. I mean, I didn't know for sure, but it was worth a shot.
The issue was that, as said content creator had mentioned, the planet didn't exactly have a flourishing cyberspace. While folks did have free and open access to the omninet, it was done with a sort of hesitation and caution that I would ordinarily associate with the fledgling days of the internet from my old world. There was a lot of adverse tip-toeing and overly polite interactions with little information being given any which way. Absolutely nothing comparable to like how wild parts could get at times.
Hm. I think it's something that they'll have to grow into, or pointed in the right path of. But not too quickly; If they dove headfirst and overwhelmed themselves in a sink or die situation, then I feared for the collective mental sanity of what could be called my people now. It felt like it would lead to a sort of society fully addicted to the omninet then, and perhaps a little bit anarchic.
Which was definitely not good for my own health.
Hm, now that I thought about it, was this perhaps the ultimate endgoal for HORUS? To nudge me into accidentally triggering a digital hyper-acceleration that would absolutely be their sort of hunting grounds? If a universal anti-corporation, anti-order sentiment sank in, then it made sense that it would become the perfect sort of seeding grounds for the esoteric order to establish themselves in. Eesh.
Okay, but that's only in the worst case scenario, right? Was I maybe overreacting? I thought I had been, until I checked in with the Director of Broadcast. Then I saw an alarming pattern that I chided myself for not having seen earlier.
They debuted with a mech. My people loved mechs. Of course, the sight of two mechs having a war in both physical reality and digital cyberspace was immediately going to be popular. Which meant that the design of the Goblin also immediately caught on.
Veronica confirmed the findings later with a grim addition. She was occasionally tuning into Luna's livestream, and spied Luna casually picking up what looked almost like new recruits into HORUS. Small time 'script kiddies' she called them, with potential to perhaps become something better if they had the ambition and drive. Which...hm.
I mean, technically, we didn't have a law against recruiting volunteers? Definitely a ban on conscription, but if people volunteered of their own volition, knowing wholly the risks but yet still willing, then our own laws couldn't stop them until they actually broke the law. Then, due to the tiered court system we had established, it would depend on the severity of said crime and the like before it reached my desk.
Plus, we didn't have moral grounds to lodge a protest however futile that might be. My various subordinate commands have each been also quietly taking in fresh faces from the local populations, a lot of locales wanting to work with the giant robots in our possession or work in a profession at least adjacent to it. Something that the Seventh Expeditionary could certainly provide in one career or another.
Then came a headache from Harrison Armory, because they clocked onto what was happening with the local fever for mechs. And now they wanted a piece of the pie. But well, apparently since Erica didn't yet have the corporate authority for these negotiations, I had to meet her own boss then for the setting.
Well, at least First to Draw had an apparently top-notch conference room for that purpose. It'd also be nice to finally get off ground-side for a little, I've been stuck on a single world for too long. So this was a good chance for me to stretch my space legs while doing some high-level negotiations.
Had I known what those dealings would result in, I think I would've done my best to find a nice farm to retire on beforehand.
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Vice Admiral Ibutsu, leader of the Fourteenth Combined Fleet, gazed upon the expanse of space beyond the bridge of his ship, and saw only his reflection. That of a weathered, old man who had seen what he thought was probably the spectrum of life. From pirate raids to shattering empires, he could probably now claim to have seen so, so very much.
Yet he was aware that he was only a man. One who would probably die and leave these stars in time, like all humans were destined to. It had been something he had long since come to terms with, and he did not fear the day death came for him. What he did fear though, is what would be left behind.
His gaze shifted and fell upon the vessels in his immediate battlegroup, holding a perfect textbook formation he had been there to write. If he were to step off his flagship and take a shuttle over to the furthest destroyer in range, Ibutsu expected it to be an almost perfect mirror of his own vessel. He expected everything to be perfectly in place, all the way from how the various bridge officers conducted themselves down to the very meal schedule cycle itself. Everything was to be exactly as he had ordered it.
Because it was what would save their lives come the fire of battle. As it had preserved his for so long now.
That, he was determined, was to be what he left upon this galaxy if nothing else. Proving that his doctrine was superior over all those newfangled youngsters who got their people needlessly killed. What irrational fools.
He exhaled sharply, then turned to walk back to his seat. The mag boots echoed in the otherwise silent bridge, each and every sailor focused exclusively on their duties as their vice admiral had commanded. He lowered himself into his seat with a grunt, then activated his console. He summoned his adjutant.
The projection of the NHP appeared and gave a sharp salute. "Vice Admiral."
"Athena. Give me a status update on the delivers regarding Project GLORY."
"Yes sir." She presented a report for him to peruse visually while delivering a summary vocally. "Shipments from allied planetary establishments have arrived, with majority of them having successfully achieve the set quotas. For later reference, I have separated those who have met such, and those who have not."
He eyed the list and sighed. Too many on the latter than the former, but he wasn't a ground stomper. He had little idea on how to direct those who squabbled in the mud, only what his own printers needed to continue functioning. "I'll talk to those who haven't and stress that their protection is again contingent on us having the necessary resources to provide for their security. Without it, they are pirate prey."
It left a sour taste in his mouth. But it was the only way to get some of those thickheaded self-declared rulers to understand that favors went both ways. Ibutsu had little pity for those who weren't so smart to do something to meet the price he had laid out for protection.
"Understood. Other than that, construction is currently on track." Athena paused, then inclined her head. "Beg pardon sir, but I have realized an error in omission. There is one more aspect that I have yet to mention."
His eyes flicked over to the holographic project, understanding. "Not here. But our associate has come through?"
"In code: 'Where one refuses the apple, another bites deep.'"
Ibutsu inclined his head a small, measured amount. "Very well. We'll discuss it later. Anything else regarding Project GLORY?"
"Negative sir. The only other report I have is about the fate of our missing hunter-destroyers."
The vice admiral's lips pressed into a very thin line. "I will review it later too. Not now." He waved a hand. "Dismissed."
The NHP faded from view and Ibutsu exhaled, mouth filled again with that bitter taste. He still couldn't believe it. Two of his own, lost to an expeditionary force of all things.
Admittedly, they'd supposedly been working in concert with a Harrison Armory force, but it had been one severely wounded and outmatched. Yet somehow, Commander Moores had utilized unorthodox tactics to secure a victory.
Ugh. The vice admiral hated tactics like that. Unpredictable, unknowable, untrustworthy.
If the young man was going to have any hope of being welcomed into the last remaining great navy force of the Half Committee, then he had serious shaping up to do. After he paid his due for having cost them two promising officers and their ships, that is. But if it could perhaps come with bringing Harrison Armory forces in line, if it was one step closer to finally lifting the veil of chaos that had consumed this sector- then perhaps the vice admiral would permit some allowance of discretion.
But not much. A leash was only good if it was pulled at times.