Nanophlogiston Chapter 36

[mc776]

The accuser. That was his name for it. She didn't remember when he said it, or how she managed to be sober enough to remember that he said it. She tried to keep it away from the crew, though every so often, oh look a bottle is there, it's not being drunk and now it is, and then Commander Vook gets a big fuckin' earful for an hour or two before she passes out. He was the only one on the ship she'd ever trusted enough to do this to. Maybe Science Officer Finkelstein too, but damned if she'd ever let them see her like that. He never complained. At least she never remembered him complaining.

The Handbook summarized the rule thus:

Eighteenth Orion Arm Code, Chapter 4: No targeting with explosives of female persons bearing young who are not posing immediate threat. Penalties include fines, imprisonment and lifetime interplanetary prohibition from serving as captain of any ship whatsoever or serving aboard any ship with higher clearance than Article II.1, Unarmed Transport of Civilian Personnel. Permanent registration with Crimes Against Humanity Register mandatory and cannot be waived by the IPWCT.

Undead-Dragon had assigned House-Made-Of-Needles to her as a spotter. Every time she fired the Snipe-'n'-Splode she was instructed to announce whether she needed a followup shot or if it was clear to go, and Needles would relay the message to the attackers up front who would immediately swarm the area if she gave the all-clear. She never asked why - just assumed Dragon was happy her men would be getting a hot meal.

After they secured the area two young male apprentice Meditators, their antlered backs bearing cloth bags filled with eggs, were sent with joyous ceremony swimming back to the village escorted by two warriors and a battle-virgin. All other loot - the enemy's meat, some weapons and a few of those beautiful, translucent amber shells that the Naked and the Clothed both used as currency - remained with the battle group.

As we have been released from Worthlessness through no merit of our own, may this small offering be sanctified and clothed with the light of Personhood, that even these little ones, born though they be of the defiled Naked, may partake of true sapience free of the bondage of old.

Yes, Cristina, some of those eggy-looking gibs were egg sacs.

Acts of Colonialism: To aid and abet, or in any way acquiesce to...
...
(vii.21111) transportation of children or viable, biologically humane larvae of any sort whatsoever to any place... for the purpose of removing or sheltering them from their culture of origin...
...
(4) fine that must exceed a minimum prescribed under the regulations, for each individual so killed, maimed, tortured, neurologically compromised, transported or so threatened;
...
(74) ...immediate summary revocation of all authority of any interstellar vessel as defined in...

This wasn't the first time, either. Might be the last, depending on how fast it all catches up. You've fucked it up again, Alvarez. Enjoy being broke in the toxic underwater slums of Old Vancouver again. Such lovely vermillion hyperfungus blooms this time of year, you stupid useless genocidal bitch.

She lay face up in the sand, hand on her suit compartment that contained her food rations. She saw neither the fires in the distance behind her, nor the much further fires across the water in front of her, nor did she hear any of the howling or chatter of her allies back at the encampment. Gunnerbot knew where she was and he could force her radio back on in a life-or-death emergency - and, under her strictest orders, only under such. She stared into the sky at the unfamiliar constellations, her rational mind making no sense of the configurations that had utterly consumed its attention on the Ellobius scant days before.

They'll drag you in front of the Inter-Planetary War Crimes Tribunal and rake you over the coals in corporate. Every fuckup, every time you didn't give a shit, every time you didn't get it right is going to be paraded in front of everyone for the public record. You'll go down in history!

Maybe prison isn't too bad, just have to prepare for it. Suppose if they gave--well, assume they gave you the statutory maximum, it's the safest assumption don't you know--after you plead guilty, then you don't have to follow any of that shit anymore. But then what if they sent you to Deimos Prime? Heard some really bad shit there. Gotta bring a shank... figure something out, what are the visiting rules again, maybe Vook's got something up his pansy ass sleeve...

She knew where this was going. It was sounding rational, comforting. It would only end, of course, in more blame for not preparing adequately for all the contingencies it had laid out so diligently. It would of course be her fault if she didn't see it coming. It was a setup - and it was sounding more and more like her and once again she was losing where she ended and it began.

No. Fuck you. We've looked it up at least three times in the past year. "Colonialism" is a defined term under the Convention! Even if it weren't, an explicit threat of genocide is a full defence! Ayumi even gave us a book filled with cases on this specific point! She could download that book right now, if she wanted to re-establish radio with the Ellobius...

Well, then, what is the definition of "colonialism"?

She could not remember. The accuser latched onto that omission and continued on for some time with increased intensity. Worthless. Stupid. Genocide. No better than the assholes who nearly ruined Terra all those centuries. Just like them...

She was fucking starving but couldn't bring herself to eat. Her hand moved to another compartment on her suit. Near the pistol... no, it wasn't that bad, the other one... they called it "mind-killer water", yes? But it's so good at relieving fear...

...

It was an hour later. The mind-killer water had scored exactly zero kills. It still wouldn't fucking shut up. It started making crude remarks about pimping her to Jean Hébert again, among other degrading things too many to enumerate.

You know what? Fuck you. Fine. I've been trying to run away from having to deal with what I had to suffer under this guy for years now. Let's go right over there, try to talk to him in a clear, unequivocal fashion and try to work it out like adults. She arose with renewed energy, determined to engage in truth and honest, intelligent dialogue with the man whose loathesome words from all those years ago she still could never entirely get out of her head.

...

And so Undead-Dragon was sitting at the feet of the Tyrant (literally; the rod could extend supports and move on its own, a feature that Jean had no idea about until now) listening to what he had to propose about gathering together the Children of the Worthless and re-establishing the Greatest Race, when a metallic green, shambling slayer emerged from the darkness and lurched into their midst, and announced in a voice so loud in mind and body that it carried clear across the camp:

"Herbert The Fucking Pervert! Fuck you! Come out of that fucking magic dildo you made for yourself like a fucking man so I can kick your fucking rancid puke bitch-ass into the middle of fucking Nakedville, you fucking cumturnip!"

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[mc776]

Brought to you by the following prompts:
1. Yellow
2. Perplexity
3. Wolf spider
4. And I knew there'd be no help, no help from you.