LF Friends, Will Travel [HFY]

Date: 2424 AD

The landscape was a dead, muddy mess. Where a vibrant forest once grew, now only dirt and rock remained, battered down by the sustained weapons fire from both sides of this continued siege. The continuous battering of attackers trying to gain access and the dwindling number of healthy defenders had destroyed what once existed here.

It was nearing its end. The pandemic would eventually pass, simply due to the lack of new victims to infect. In just the two weeks since Dr Fletcher had arrived at the compound, the entrance had gone from mostly healthy people in the beginning stages of infection asking for help to desperate people deep within the throes of the God Plague demanding it.

Jonathan slowly hobbled along the walkways that overlooked the entrance to the compound, old, rusty metal passageways ringing out as he walked along the top, giving him sight of the outsiders' final literal gasps for life. He could see them amassing for an attack, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, ready to try and take what had been created here for themselves. They must have realized the defenders had run out of artillery, that they could take by sheer force and mass of bodies the salvation they'd been denied.

At this point there'd be no way to make enough stasis chambers for those that still gathered outside the facility's doors: The groups that had been running the fabricators were lacking knowledgeable manpower as more and more of them fell to the God Plague, the critically few uplifts and the half dead human workers barely able to create a trickle of the life saving machines: No new generations would be taking over the maintenance of this place: Every human on the planet was either dead or dying.

Dr Fletcher doubled over in a pained, rasping, coughing fit - blood trickling from his mouth as he tried to steady himself. Everything hurt: breathing, thinking, moving. The tumors grew everywhere, no matter the medication he took, the painkillers simply took the edge off the agony of every breath, allowing the professor to be functional. By the standard timeline of the disease he had seven days of life left, but he frankly felt dead already.

Johnathan didn't have time to die, he had work to do, he had to keep the wife he loved safe and alive. He no longer had the strength to keep the fabricators running or to build the stasis pods, but he still had his most powerful tool: his mind, and a problem to solve up here on the surface, to buy those below enough time to save a few more lives.

A terrible problem with a terrible solution.

He could see the amassing force approaching: The desperate looking for any chance at life, all as hurt and infected as Johnathan was. Desperate enough to do anything they needed to survive, including opening up the already filled stasis chambers; killing those already asleep and taking their place.

The incoming force moved closer as the full assault on the facility started in earnest, free from the oppressive impact of explosives and artillery. Of course, Johnathan didn't need artillery for his plan to work: Creating complicated explosive munitions took time and effort they didn't have, when fabricating certain raw elements was far easier, and far more destructive.

And terrible.

He looked around him, at the handful of other people helping him, less than five in total. They didn't have anyone else left to spare, less than 40 functioning people remained, guarding the remaining tombs for the not quite dead. Statistically, they'd normally never stand a chance against such an overwhelming force, but statistically, most forces didn't have someone with Dr Fletcher's knowledge

Johnathan could see the individuals approaching more clearly now, a small tinge of guilt forming in his chest as he saw uplifts among the attackers. The humans outside the facility were ethically already dead as the God Plague ravaged their bodies, but the uplifts were caught amongst a desperation to help individual friends and family survive this apocalypse. Humanity might be the ones infected but the battles for supplies and life involved all Terrans of all kinds: There was a reason the facility was disconnected from any kind of network - Otherwise they'd have to contend with AI also attempting to breach their defenses.

Errant explosions sounded out as the attackers launched a few of their own precious supplies into their assault, the few remaining defenders having pulled way back to the entrance to the underground parts of the compound. They let the attacking forces rush forwards through the no man's land with a reckless desperation: After all, it was all part of the plan, to get them within range of the devices they'd left behind. Each of the five defenders slipped their fabricated gas masks on silently: the distance and wind made sure they wouldn't be within range, but one could never be too careful when dealing with chemical weapons.

The first plume of gas was released from its container as an unfortunate tumor ridden human stumbled over the tripwire. Quickly others followed as a chain reaction of simple wire controlled triggers caused the entire battlefield to become enveloped in a cloud of light aqua coloured gas, obscuring the view of both sides.

Then the screaming started.

As anyone who has ever mixed household cleaners together can tell you, making a war crime is relatively simple. A few base elements and easily fabricated compounds mixed together could create some of the most deadly and persistent toxins known to humanity. Dr. Johnathan Fletcher had more than enough knowledge as to what could easily be created to cause mass death.

He could hear their choking screams as the lining of their lungs dissolved from the chemicals, the attackers literally drowning in a slurry made of themselves. He couldn't really see much other than the vague movement of figures through the thick gas, just sounds of their final gurgling cries. Shouts and thuds of bodies echoing out through the one sided battlefield.

They hadn't expected something like this, who expected chemical weapons in this modern era of war, but rules only mattered to the victors. Dr Fletcher had no intention of letting something like morality stand between him and the life of the one he loved. People could debate whether what he did was right or wrong after he won, after his wife was safe.

The noises had stopped although the gas remained, still hanging low to the ground like a deadly moat, heavier than the air making it stick around. Those outside the field of effect had stopped advancing, watching the impenetrable fog with fear and despair as it pushed back the attack, keeping the facility safe for one more day.

There were still canisters of the stuff left untriggered, meaning even after the fog of death dissipated, the attackers would still need to procure protective equipment. Which would take days to do, days they didn't have, days nobody really had anymore. With a solemn sigh Dr. Fletcher turned back and retreated deeper back into the facility, pushing back from his mind what had happened here.

Worrying about the implications of what he'd done would be for other people, he still had a few days left of life to keep her safe.

—---------------------------

Date: 77 PST (Post Stasis Time)

"Just what is wrong with you Johnathan?"

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Susan said the words with a level of annoyance, a feeling that never seemed to go away while working in her position. Before taking the role she thought that this side of managing the facility would be the easiest part. In between the secrecy, the logistics of accomplishing whatever impossible tasks were required in order to ensure the scientists here at Research Location Nine had everything they needed to succeed, the idea that the subjects she was tasked to aid would be her biggest problems was not one she'd foresaw before she started this job.

Yet here she was, once again dealing with… shenanigans. Whatever had recently gotten into the ever brilliant Dr Johnathan Fletcher

"We ignored your constant little annoyances with regards to Dr Xavius, but using experimental untested technology to break into her lab is... I can't just ignore that."

Both Sussan and Dr Fletcher sat opposite of each other, Susan sitting behind her own modestly furnished desk, staring at the trouble maker sitting down in front of her. The room was as modest and to the point as its owner: a simple thing of basic utility. The head of this facility had no real need for anything other than a simple desk and a basic computer to access information, not even a house plant decorated the otherwise bare room: She only really spent time here in meetings, far too busy to enjoy her own space otherwise.

"I dunno, you seem rather adept at pretending to ignore things: What's one more war crime right?"

Both of them held a foul mood at the other, for entirely different reasons, Johnathan glaring at Sussan with a simmering rage. The impact of this was lessened greatly by the fact that the scientist wasn't quite full sized yet: voice still tinny and high pitched, occasionally growing a few inches every moment with a clicking and bubbling sound. Dr Fletcher wasn't quite sure what his plan was, now that he knew the truth, but he did know he wanted to confront the person who was supposed to be in charge of stopping this kind of thing from happening.

"Okay, let's hear it," Sussan said simply, in the same tone of voice you might use on a toddler who wanted to go out in the freezing cold rain and wouldn't change their mind until the reality of the cold soaking dampness came to be. "You clearly have some grand sanctimonious speech lined up for me, so come on, say what you want to say, get it out of your system."

The silence bounced around the room as Sussan stopped talking, motioning to Johnathan as he sat there, not quite expecting to be given the chance to say his piece.

"I know what Xavius is making." Dr. Fletcher finally stated, disgust in his voice as he trailed off.

"Fantastic, that makes two of us." Sussan said dismissively. "If that's all..."

"I know it breaks every law of war and morality. I know it's a biological weapon based on the god damned God Plague! I know it goes against everything we're supposed to be! That's we're not supposed to be like that anymore, yet you told Xavius to make war crimes against all sapience in the middle of nowhere!"

Johnathan was shouting now, screaming at the person who ran the facility, standing up and breathing heavily as he finished the tirade, glaring at the woman who was still seated. Susan looked completely unbothered, raising a single eyebrow as she spoke.

"I haven't told Xavius to do anything: The idea was all hers, I simply told her to do whatever she felt best to deal with the Estorian problem.. If that's a biological weapon, then who am I to tell the literal genius otherwise? My goal is to simply help you all reach your greatest potential, no matter what."

"So you let her create something that will kill millions of innocent people!?" Dr Fletcher was shouting once more, anger bubbling up at the woman who was answering so nonchalantly, arms folded as if the words he was saying meant nothing.

"Only if we release it." Susan responded, in a tone almost as if he was amused. "There are no plans to use Xavius's project, it's simply an insurance policy."

"How can you... what part of our history makes you think that?" Johnathan asked, voice calming down as a legitimate confusion entered his voice. "After everything that happened, everything we did... how can you think we wouldn't push the button..."

He trailed off as he spoke, staring at Susan again, as if for the first time. Looking at the older features on her face, the wrinkles around her eyes, the lightly greying hair; and how notable that was. With the advent of medical technology people could choose how old they looked, with most taking a body in their early 20's. You only want to look older if...

"You weren't there, were you, you were born post-stasis time, weren't you?..." Dr Fletcher finished his thought, finally sitting back down. "You've only seen this fake friendly humanity amongst the stars, you didn't see what we did to each other when it really mattered..."

That garnered a reaction from Susan, the dismissive look turning to a frown as she looked legitimately annoyed at that comment.

"You don't understand what we'll do if-" Johnathan started, before being interrupted curtly.

"No, you are the one who doesn't understand Dr Johnathan Fletcher." Susan spoke plainly and sternly, in the same way a parent might respond to a rowdy teenager who hadn't yet learned the trials and tribulation of the real world. "You've said your piece, now I will say mine. You like to moralize and lament about tragedies since passed, well some of us have to live in the present. A present where we are fighting a real war against an enemy that makes humanity at its worst look like saints."

Susan was in full swing now, words she'd spoken so many times to people who didn't have to live with the information of just what the war they were fighting meant.

"Do you know how many people have died in this conflict over the last four years? 374 million. Most Terrans haven't been impacted because our territories are rather well defended, but our allies are not so lucky, allies who we made a promise to, allies that depend on us to protect them from what would happen to them if we lose. You have the Raha who have a sick religious fascination with torturing and dominating those who they deem lesser than them, which is everyone. The Lelzoil who are a perfectly fine democratically compliant nation, apart from if you're not a Lelzoili, then they'll subject you to whatever sick experiments they please to increase their own knowledge. You already know what the Uhae can do, ripping your own free will and controlling you like a puppet, and the Hagorthians... well at least they give you a fighting chance as they hunt you down for their own amusement. Do you think the billions of souls in our alliance will be treated as magnanimously as you preach?"

"What, so because they're evil we're allowed to be as well?" Johnathan asked, still glaring but slightly muted by the somber speech he was being given.

"They don't care about our rules, we're not going to let them strike us down and drown us in the mud beneath them. Moralizing and discussing what is right and wrong is a privilege held only by the survivors." It was now Susan's turn to stand, a righteous determination in her voice as she silenced Dr Fletcher through sheer force of determination. "If that means creating an emergency button, break glass to warcrime, then that's what we will do rather than lose everything against these monsters. It wouldn't even be in the top five grey things we've done here. Because rules and what's right and wrong don't mean a damn if you lose to people like these. This is why Xavius is allowed to do whatever she believes is the best action, why we look the other way from Rux's 'funtimes network', and why you're talking here with me in this nice office, instead of being thrown in prison for espionage and treason. Because defeat is not an option, no matter the cost, so rules get bent and ignored."

Johnathan's anger simmered into a manner of dull acceptance, fully realizing the lack of bargaining chips he held. One man against a government willing to do anything to win a war.

"So what happens next, what am I supposed to do, ignore this?"

Susan rolled her eyes and gave a deep sigh, sitting back down and turning to look back at her monitor dismissively for a moment before giving a final statement.

"You go back to your lab, you continue your work, you stop trying to interfere with other research projects, and you become a famous genius for solving the Uhae problem."

"And if I refuse? If I don't want to help with something so…" Jonathan trailed off, trying to find the word for just how much he hated what was happening here.

"Distasteful? Horrific? Immoral?" Susan raised an eyebrow at this, a look in her eyes as if this was the stupidest suggestion. "Xavius' project is not the only one which people may find immoral, and this is not the only location researching such immoral things. If you really hate what's being created here, then logically the only option you have is to help us end this war as fast as possible. Make sure there is never a future in which we need to do something 'immoral'."