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Mr. Jeffry vs. Candice Wilson and Cowlitz County Safety

July 12, 2014 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Characterization, Setting, The Craft  2 Comments


In the matter of Jeffry vs. Candice Wilson and Cowlitz County Safety, I find for the plaintiff, Mr. Jeffry.

Mr. Jeffry, formally of the 101st Airborne Division Orbital Insertion Battalion, and previous resident of Ryderwood, a town located in Cowlitz County, was the neighbor of Dee Wilson, Candice Wilson’s younger sister.

Dee Wilson was a known drug abuser who on a frequent basis took snorf (see Appendix A). Her father (Lou Wilson) and mother (Tawny Wilson) are successful restaurateurs of Portland, Oregon, owning three upscale restaurants, one of which is in Vancouver, Washington. As outlined in Appendix A, the Wilsons tried several times to rehabilitate their daughter to no success. Dee became pregnant. Dee could not seek support from the father of her child, as she was high on the night of conception and participated in a group sex activity where the participants did not have to verify their fertility blockers were installed and intact.

I have not been able to determine whom, or what, removed Dee’s blocker, or if she had ever installed a tube-blocker (also Appendix A).

Now legally an adult, Dee relocated to Ryderwood and her parents gave her a living stipend on the condition she not return to Portland.

While legally an adult per the Constitution, Dee was not in the proper frame of mind to live like one and started a relationship with a local drug dealer whom called himself “Flo-Jo” (see Appendix B). Flo-Jo happily took over Dee’s finances, but regrettably, Flo-Jo was dealing drugs so he himself could afford their usage. Her small home fell in disrepair, but indications are Dee did manage to stay clean while pregnant. She successfully gave birth to a daughter she named Jackie.

Unfortunately for little Jackie, Dee took up the life of drugs again. Mr. Jeffry, living next door, sought to alleviate Jackie’s precarious situation by petitioning her grandparents and aunt to pay Dee a one-time payment in exchange for them raising the baby or putting it up for adoption. The Wilsons declined (see Appendix C).

It was at this point Mr. Jeffry offered a lump sum, and his house, for becoming the Guardian of Baby Jackie, now six months old. During this offer, he got into an altercation with Flo-Jo, which Cowlitz County Safety intervened. Dee declined Mr. Jeffry’s offer (see Appendix D).

Mr. Jeffry decided to monitor Baby Jackie’s situation by taking time off work and paying close attention to Dee’s house. It was during this time he concluded that nobody was feeding Jackie and she had been crying off-and-on for three days, with the cries “becoming ominously weaker and infrequent.” His observation was collaborated by the certified medical condition of Jackie post-incident (see Appendix D).

Mr. Jeffry decided to intervene for the safety and well-being of the baby, determining she was in immediate danger. He donned a set of off-the-shelf light armor and armed himself with a charge pistol, a M16 MK31 rifle, ammunition for both, three HE grenades, a Japanese katana and a TacWin tactical helmet of unknown model/make. He then released two small TacWin data drones, also of unknown model/make. He then activated his helmet (the telemetry available in Appendix E).

Mr. Jeffry proceeded to kick the front door of Dee’s house off its tracks. The cheap, but effective virtual fence installed at Dee’s residence called Country Safety. This and other telemetry from the virtual fence is in Appendix F.

Mr. Jeffry went up the stairs and found Dee and Flo-Jo in coitus in the master bedroom. It was at this point he told Flo-Jo and Dee he was here to save the baby and not to interfere.

Flo-Jo responded by jumping out of bed and reaching for a sidearm. Mr. Jeffry then split Flo-Jo in half with his katana.


Ignoring Dee’s screams, Mr. Jeffry went to the baby’s room. As shown on the high-resolution helmet video, the baby was covered in her own feces and urine, and showing the outwards signs of dehydration and malnourishment.

Mr. Jeffry then took Jackie to the kitchen in which he washed her off in the sink. The baby protested this, and started to mew, having no energy to scream or cry. Mr. Jeffry then fixed a baby-meal by pressing the activation button on an easily found baby formula bottle and stuffed the nipple in Jackie’s mouth. The baby then proceeded to feed in earnest.

It is at this time Dee came downstairs with Flo-Jo’s firearm. Mr. Jeffry informed Dee to say goodbye to the baby, as Dee would never see her again.

Dee was silent for several minutes and then whispered goodbye. She then put Flo-Jo’s firearm in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

Mr. Jeffry then went outside where a County Safety tactical vehicle stopped in front of the house. Both Mr. Jeffery and Dee were clients of Cowlitz County Safety (Appendix G). We can presume Mr. Jeffery knew of their impending arrival by the video feed of his drones, as he shifted the baby to the crock of his arm, sheathed his katana and moved his rifle to a sling-on-back position. The four Safety Officers immerging from their vehicle with pistols and carbines drawn demanded Mr. Jeffery put down the baby and raise his hands.

Mr. Jeffry extended his hand in a manner suggesting that he wished the Country Safety Officers to see that he was not pointing a weapon at them. Below is the totality of the conversation between Mr. Jeffry and the officers:

MR. JEFFRY: Stand down. Do not point weapons at me or the baby.

OFFICER LORRIE: Put the baby on the ground! Keep your hands where we can see them!

MR. JEFFRY: Stand down.

OFFICER LORRIE: Damn it Jeff, put the baby down!

MR. JEFFRY: Do not interfere.

There was a pause indicating the Safety Officers were having a sub-vocal conversation (data unavailable).

OFFICER LORRIE: I’m not going to tell you again to…

Mr. Jeffry did not put the baby down nor raise his hands. The TacWin drone #1 unleashed a full-spectrum, full-power burst of white noise which penetrated the Officers’ filter suite on their own tactical helmets. In the resultant confusion, Mr. Jeffry drew his charge pistol and shot, from the hip, each officer in the head. Twice.

(Note the baby still has an impressive grip on the bottle and is still feeding)

Mr. Jeffry did three things in quick order. He placed two of his HE grenades onto the tactical vehicle and put the bodies in the vehicle and closed the door. The SUV, sensing zero life signs from the occupants, reverted to auto programing and proceeded to drive away from the scene, the final destination which I will note below.

Mr. Jeffry next action was to retreat to his house and begin gathering “bug-out” supplies and his “bug-out” kit. He also placed an emergency call to PacWest Office of Constitution Enforcement, the transcript as follows:

DISPATCHER: PacWest OCE. Please note OCE per the Constitution does not mediate private arrangements between individuals and CEOs only involve themselves in matters directly pertaining to the Constitution per our charter. What is the nature of your emergency?

MR. JEFFRY: Mortal interference of Guardianship by a collective.

DISPATCHER: That is a very serious allegation Mr. Jeffry, but before I dispatch an Officer, are you in danger right now?


DISPATCHER: Is your ward in mortal danger?


DISPATCHER: I note your location as Ryderwood in Cowlitz County and that Cowlitz County Safety has gone under high alert. Is County Safety the collective that is interfering with your Guardianship?


DISPATCHER: Only a few more questions and I thank you for your patience. These questions are important for you and your ward’s safety. Are you Mr. Jeffry, formally of 101st Airborne Division Orbital Insertion Battalion?


DISPATCHER: I am dispatching Mr. Scott of PacWest OCE; his qualifications are on the data channel now. Is that adequate for the tactical situation you are now in?

MR. JEFFRY: More than, yes.

DISPATCHER: Excellent. Is there anything else I can help you with today?


DISPATCHER: Thank you…

MR. JEFFRY: Actually, one thing. If you give a malnourished baby an auto-bottle and she drinks it all, do I give her another right way?

DISPATCHER: One moment. No. The baby should fall asleep shortly after the first bottle. If the baby was strong enough to drink the bottle in the first place, then she was hydrated enough not to warrant an IV. Feed her again after she wakes up and you change her. Is there anything else I can help you with?

MR. JEFFRY: No, thank you. You’ve been great.

DISPATCHER: Glad to hear it. Please be sure to fill out the satisfaction survey at the conclusion of PacWest OCE involvement in your case. I hope your day gets better. PacWest, OCE Dispatch, out.

MR. JEFFRY: Jeff, out.

During this exchange between Mr. Jeffry and PacWest OCE, Cowlitz County Safety launched two flights of tactical drones. Mr. Jeffry’s other drone (TacWin drone #2) proceed to target each county drone with a small EW data stream. The drones responded by attempting to take the TacWin drone offline through bursts from their auto-shotguns.

The TacWin drone responded by performing evasive maneuvers while using the same EW attack in a round-robin fashion on the county drones.

It should be noted that while the EW attack on the county drones were ineffective, the result was all twelve drones proceeded to chase TacWin drone #2 all over the wooded areas of Ryderwood.

Right as Mr. Jeffry finished putting the last of his supplies in his bug-out bag, he noted that Baby Jackie was indeed asleep. He carefully placed her in a duffle bag with but did not seal the bag. He then received a call from Cowlitz County Safety, Sheriff Kippler.

SHERIFF KIPPLER: Jeff! What the fuck? I’m reading zero vitals from four of my officers right after video telemetry of them pointing their guns at you and screaming at you to stand down, telemetry that cut out right after an EW burst!

MR. JEFFRY: Kip. Listen up. Jackie is now my ward. Do not interfere. I’m her Guardian. Do you understand? Her Guardian.

SHERIFF KIPPLER: Damn it Jeff! Their SUV is rolling up now. With fucking blood dripping out the fucking door. Have you gone war-frenzy? Huh? Is that it?

MR. JEFFRY: For the love of the Old God, Kip, stand the fuck down! I’ve called OCE and a CEO is on the way.

This is the point I tried to contact Sheriff Kippler via the Cowlitz County 911, Government channel, while travelling north on the I-5 Corp. Bridge in the emergency express lane at 200 kilometers per hour. The call was dispatched immediately to Sheriff Kippler, who did not answer.

Back to the conversation between Kippler and Jeffry:

SHERIFF KIPPLER: Fuck you! You shot them in the head! Their brains are gone YOU FUCK; we can’t regen them. And don’t fucking play the OCE card on me! They are nothing but a bunch of burned out vets who cover the asses of other burned out vets. They are calling me right now. Well fuck that. You’re done, Jeffry. You’ve got three safety departments…

MR. JEFFRY: Sorry, Kip.

Mr. Jeffry remotely detonated the two HE grenades still attached to the tactical vehicle. This took out Sheriff Kippler, the high-security emergency bay of the Cowlitz County Safety Trauma Hospital, two EMTs, the trauma doctor and three Country Safety Tactical Officers.

I then attempted to call Mr. Jeffry, who answered the call.

MR. JEFFRY: Mr. Scott.

CEO SCOTT: Mr. Jeffry. Are you still involved in a situation?


CEO SCOTT: Well, I have not one but three County Safety departments not answering my calls nor giving me any tactical feeds despite my request. How bad is it?

MR. JEFFRY: I’m in my armor.

CEO SCOTT: Okay. When I arrive at your location will you stand down?

MR. JEFFRY: Yes. But right now I am on the move.

CEO SCOTT: I will add you to the tactical feed to my SUV. Can you please hook up with me?

MR. JEFFRY: Affirmative.

CEO SCOTT: Can I ask you some questions? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but it would be helpful for me, but mostly you.


CEO: Have you been drinking today?


CEO SCOTT: Are you taking any recreational or medicinal drugs that would impede your judgment?


CEO SCOTT: How long have you been awake?

MR. JEFFRY: I have been up since oh-five-hundred.

CEO SCOTT: How much sleep did you get?

MR. JEFFRY: Eight hours.

CEO SCOTT: How old is your ward?

MR. JEFFRY: About six months.

CEO SCOTT: Jesus Old Christ on a Pogo Stick. Are you telling me a baby was in mortal danger by Guardian interference from a County Safety department?

MR. JEFFRY: Correct, Major.

CEO SCOTT: And you are a client of their services.

MR. JEFFRY: Correct.

CEO SCOTT: And did they know who you were?

MR. JEFFRY: I want to say yes, but it’s obvious now, no.

CEO SCOTT: Well, this sucks.

MR. JEFFRY: Aye, Major.

CEO SCOTT: Okay then. Please hold.

I then called the 911 channels of the Clark, Cowlitz and Multnomah County Safety Departments, both on their 911 tactical emergency channels and their Government channels.

CEO SCOTT: I have an active case with a Mr. Jeffry as the plaintiff. I require everyone to stand down while I investigate the claims to conclusion.

SHERIFF LARS: Scott, we’ve got a stack of dead…

CEO SCOTT: Lars, if you all do not stand down right now I will respond with lethal force.

SHERIFF LARS: Damn, it Scott!

I terminated all six channels. Fortunately, all three departments stood down and I met up with Mr. Jeffry and proceed with my inquiry. During the course of the investigation, Candice Wilson formally counter-petitioned OCE for custody of Baby Jackie.

In the matter of Candice Wilson and Cowlitz County Safety, I find for the plaintiff, Mr. Jeffry due to Constitutional violations now attributed as Mortal Guardian Interference.

The Constitution articles on Guardianship are clear and succinct on the matter of Guardianship. Once Mr. Jeffry determined Baby Jackie was in mortal danger by her very own Guardian, Dee Wilson, he was allowed to become a primary actor on behalf of the baby. If a person becomes the primary actor on behalf a person who cannot make decisions herself, he or she goes from a primary actor to the Guardian of that person (Child). Once that occurs there are three considerations (the person requiring a Guardian for this explanation is henceforth referred to as a Child for clarity):

Consideration One: If the primary actor becomes the Guardian because the prior Guardian is incapacitated or absent, he must relinquish Guardianship to the prior Guardian or prior Guardian’s designators once the Child is no longer in danger. An immediate family relation is a de facto Guardian designation, which is the primary mechanism in which an immediate family member becomes the Guardian of a Child when the Child’s primary Guardian is unable to perform his or hers Guardian duties.

Consideration Two: If the primary actor determines that the Guardian herself is placing the Child in Clear and Imminent Danger, the actor can assume Guardianship of the Child until such a time as the primary actor contacts Office of Constitution Enforcement and files a claim of Constitutional Violation on behalf of the Child, usually the Whole of Body clauses. If OCE determines that the Guardianship transfer did not have Constitution backing (such Clear and Imminent Danger was absent, even if the perception of danger would led a person to conclude otherwise), then the Child is removed from the primary actor’s custody and place back into the custody of the prior Guardian or prior Guardian’s designees. At that time the Guardian(s) can hire an Investor for the crime of kidnaping or any another crime committed during the improper removal of Guardianship.

However, if OCE finds that the primary actor was correct in removing the prior Guardian, the primary actor is now the Child’s Guardian with no restriction as the Constitution does not have clauses placing restrictions on Guardianship except for the considerations I am articulating now (see Section 1: Guardianship, Clauses 8 through 13).

Consideration Three: While esoteric today, it is important to note War Authorization Clauses can usurp Section 1 (Guardianship) of the Constitution.

Based on the evidence presented by both the Plaintiff and the Defendants, Mr. Jeffry is the Guardian of Baby Jackie and thus all claims of Constitutional Violations on Mr. Jeffry and claims filed with an Investigator for the crimes of Homicide and Kidnapping are void.

The first question I asked when determining a Judgment was, when did Mr. Jeffry become a primary actor towards Baby Jackie?

Mr. Jeffry became a primary actor when he contacted the Guardian designators with his concerns that Baby Jackie was in danger from her own Guardian:

Unfortunately for little Jackie, Dee took up the life of drugs again. Mr. Jeffry, living next door, sought to alleviate Jackie’s precarious situation by petitioning her grandparents and aunt to pay Dee a one-time payment in exchange for them raising the baby or putting it up for adoption. The Wilsons declined (see Appendix C).

Once I established a primary actor, and that the primary actor was Mr. Jeffry, I then posed the question: did Mr. Jeffry try to resolve this situation before resorting to (lethal) force against the current Guardian?

I concluded yes:

It was at this point Mr. Jeffry offered a lump sum, and his house, for becoming the Guardian of Baby Jackie, now six months old.

Having tried to resolve the situation for the Child on behalf of the current Guardians, did Mr. Jeffry, as the primary actor, have the implicit duty to then become Baby Jackie’s Guardian?

I concluded yes:

Mr. Jeffry decided to monitor Baby Jackie’s situation by taking time off work and paying close attention to Dee’s house. It was during this time he concluded that nobody was feeding Jackie and she had been crying off-and-on for three days, with the cries “becoming ominously weaker and infrequent.” His observation was collaborated by the certified medical condition of Jackie post-incident (see Appendix D).

Mr. Jeffry decided to intervene for the safety and well-being of the baby, determining she was in immediate danger.

That Mr. Jeffry did not contact County Safety with his immediate concern has no bearing in light of the absent of monitoring from Cowlitz County Safety after the altercation between Mr. Jeffry and Flo-Jo, where Mr. Jeffry expressed concern to the County Safety officers that Baby Jackie’s life was in danger.

Why County Safety did not set up active or passive monitoring is unknown and the officers involved, including Sheriff Kippler, perished in the resultant altercation whereupon Mr. Jeffry became Baby Jackie’s Guardian. I was told directly by Candice Wilson (see Appendix H) that Cowlitz County Safety contacted her parents and discussed the situation at length.

However, such factoids are only relevant in understanding what occurred from low-level observations and has no bearing on the if Mr. Jeffry was in violation of the Constitution for Guardian usurp , but they do have bearing if County Safety was in violation of the Constitution when interfering with Mr. Jeffry as the Guardian of Baby Jackie:

DISPATCHER: …What is the nature of your emergency?

MR. JEFFRY: Mortal interference of Guardianship by a collective.

Concerning the counter-claim of Designated Guardianship Petition from Candice Wilson, I find in favor of the Plaintiff, Mr. Jeffry. Candice Wilson ceased to become a Designated Guardian once she refused to become the primary actor for Baby Jackie when Mr. Jeffry expressed his concerns about the Child in a good faith effort to resolve the situation. I have confiscated 5,000 Nuevo Credits form Candice Wilson, 4,000 of which I awarded to Mr. Jeffry and 1,000 to PacWest OCE as per our Constitutional Charter.

Cornering Mr. Jeffry’s claim against Cowlitz County Safety, once Mr. Jeffry decided to save Baby Jackie he was her Guardian. All the actions from that point are filtered under Section 1 of the Constitution (Guardianship). It is unfortunate that so many Country Safety Officers perished in the altercation, but a Guardian can respond to mortal interference of Guardianship by a collective with lethal force.

I have fined Cowlitz County Safety Department 3,000,000 Nuevo Credits. The department did not have the cash on hand and their insurance company refused to pay out. I have therefore confiscated cash from the various holding banks they had, and then confiscated the rest of the cash from individual officers’ personal accounts if the officer was an active commissioned employee of Cowlitz County Safety at the time of this Judgment. 100,000 of those credits was transferred to PacWest OCE as per our Constitutional Charter.

This is my Judgment rendered without Question with one Consideration:

OFFICER SCOTT: Guys, it would be great if one of you posed a Question on the Jeffry Case.

OFFICER JUSTIN: Scott, this may be the first time a CEO has actually asked for a Question. Ever. Dude.

OFFICER HANA: I am so not touching this one.

OFFICER SCOTT: Come on guys, a Question will save me a mound of paperwork on the backend. I’ll buy you a beer.

OFFICER GINA: I’ll pose a Question…


OFFICER GINA: …if we weren’t in the middle of a divorce.




OFFICER SCOTT: You are all not nice people.

Case Addendum 1: Investigator Evelyn of Daniel and Evelyn Investigations, Portland, Oregon

You know I had this huge flame addition in which I ripped everyone who interjected me into this cluster fuck a new one. I went off on how fucking stupid you have to be to interfere with a FUCKING ORBITAL TROOPER who is one of the few members left of the 101st Airborne not because of luck but because he is a fucking BAD-ASS of monumental proportions to the point where the GUARDIAN OF THE FUCKING EMPRESS awarded him a FUCKING IMPERIAL KATANA OVER FIVE HUNDRED YEARS OLD for reasons NOBODY KNOWS but if you put two and two together one can surmise he was instrumental in SAVING THE PRE-NATAL EMPRESSES LIFE. So when a bunch of ASSHOLES get whacked when he is trying to save the life of ANOTHER BABY, people wonder why there is a pile of dead bodies, while I am sitting here wondering WHY THE BODY COUNT IS NOT IN THE HUNDREDS. I guess Mr. Jeffry had an off day.

However, Danny is encouraging me to make a good faith effort. Fine.

Lou and Tawny Wilson attempted to hire me for to Investigate the death of their daughter Dee Wilson as a homicide and OCE abuse of office, specifically the Constitutional Enforcement Officer Mr. Scott. No sooner than the request hit my office comp, I received the same type of homicide/OCE abuse Investigation from the Clark, Cowlitz and Multnomah County Safety Departments.

As Investigators have authority over CEOs when the latter commit crimes or Constitutional violations of their own, I spent due diligence in a pre-Investigation of this case(s) for a grand total of ten minutes. I then sent an official reply to the potential clients:

Fuck off.

Shortly thereafter I received a call from Charles [REDACTED] Olsen, the [REDACTED] Space Marshal. He asked me, nicely, if I would please Investigate if OCE was indeed violating their charter as outlined in the Constitution.

I actually considered telling Charles to also fuck off. However, Charles is sitting up there in Space Station Matachi doing who knows what when the man should be retired, so I decided to cut him some slack. That he was a phenomenal lay as a CO had nothing to do with it, indeed I hold that against him.

After I stopped crying from being used by Charles (again), I opened an official inquiry against PacWest OCE and Officer Scott. Then I took a shower because I felt as dirty as a woman could feel.

In any official inquiry against OCE, and Investigator asks these questions in no particular order:

Does the Investigator have valid jurisdiction over OCE at this time?

Did the CEO commit a crime?

Did the CEO abuse the powers of his office?

These are valid questions. But let me ask another question on the request to Investigate multiple homicides committed by Baby Jackie’s Guardian, Mr. Jeffry. Did Mr. Jeffry commit unjustifiable homicide? To me this is a valid question, as I am an Investigator and I am empowered by the Constitution to Investigate crimes on behalf of a client. It’s an academic question (wait for it), but since I was asked (nicely) to answer it, answer I shall.

My answer is no. Each homicide in this case was justifiable.

Let’s start with “Flo-Jo.” Well, let’s not. Fuck Flo-Jo. Let’s start with Dee. Dee killed herself on video that has an intact non-tamper encryption key. This is a slam dunk. Mr. Jeffry didn’t even encourage Dee to off herself, every single word recorded to Dee Wilson was said with compassion and honor. They were absolute words, but honorable words.

We then come to the altercation, the Guardian of Baby Jackie was clear in his declaration:

MR. JEFFRY: Stand down. Do not point weapons at me or the baby.

OFFICER LORRIE: Put the baby on the ground! Keep your hands where we can see them!

MR. JEFFRY: Stand down.

OFFICER LORRIE: Damn it Jeff, put the baby down!

MR. JEFFRY: Do not interfere.

Mr. Jeffry had no obligation to say anything even as a client to Cowlitz County Safety. He was acting under Section 1: Guardianship of the Constitution. Unfortunately, this is where things went bad:

OFFICER LORRIE: I’m not going to tell you again to…

Whoops. Hold on there, girly. Did you get that? I’m not going to tell you again. Congratulations County Safety Officer Lorrie, you are singularly responsible for this entire trail of destruction that could have stopped with “Flo-Jo.” You killed all those people for “Flo-Jo” and the Baby Abuser, Dee. Let me put that in perspective:

You put “Flo-Jo” a known drug dealer and addict and Dee, A KNOWN ADDICT AND CHILD ABUSER WHOM KILLED HERSELF above Mr. Jeffry A FUCKING ORBITAL DROP TROOPER who was in process of SAVING A BABY’S LIFE.

But that is a digression. At this point Mr. Jeffry surmised the Safety Officers intent to interfere with the Guardianship of his baby and that interference was now classified as mortal interference. Buh-Bye, Lorrie.

Note that was a charge pistol Mr. Jeffry used. A charge pistol. You know what a charge pistol is? It’s the precursor to my needler. Yes, the second deadliest sidearm on the planet.

Anyway, our trail of destruction now heads to Sheriff “I Am Suspected of Taking Blood Money From the Wilsons” Kippler. In the request packet sent to me about this case from the Safety offices, it was suggested this was pre-meditated murder because Mr. Jeffry put the HE grenades on the SUV out of sight.

That Mr. Jeffry committed homicide is not in question. Did he commit murder?

I concluded no. Hey look at that I am staring to sound like Mr. Scott.

Anyway, Mr. Jeffry was involved in a tactical, running battle. He had (correctly) surmised that County Safety may be acting against the Constitution in ways that would usurp his Guardianship even if he brought in OCE to try to mitigate the altercation (carnage). Behold, Ladies and Gentleman, Mr. Jeffry in all his tactical glory:

DISPATCHER: PacWest OCE… What is the nature of your emergency?

MR. JEFFRY: Mortal interference of Guardianship by a collective.

Followed by:

SHERIFF KIPPLER: Damn it Jeff! Their SUV is rolling up now. With fucking blood dripping out the fucking door. Have you gone war frenzy? Huh? Is that it?

MR. JEFFRY: For the love of the Old God, Kip, stand the fuck down! I’ve called OCE and a CEO is on the way.

Uh-huh, uh-huh, wakka wakka doo. Mr. Jeffry did make the tactical assumption that as a group, Cowlitz Country Safety was going to crawl up his ass. For saving a baby. But it gets better!

SHERIFF KIPPLER: Fuck you! You shot them in the head! Their brains are gone YOU FUCK; we can’t regen them. And don’t fucking play the OCE card on me! They are nothing but a bunch of burned out vets who cover the asses of other burned out vets. They are calling me right now. Well fuck that. You’re done, Jeffry. You’ve got three safety departments…

MR. JEFFRY: Sorry, Kip.

That wasn’t murder that was self-defense. And the defense of a Baby. You know, what a Guardian is EMPOWERED BY THE CONSTITUTION to do.

Just so everyone doesn’t think I am heartless bitch (okay maybe I am), I am sorry too. The doctor and the two EMTs got blown up and they weren’t a threat. But again:

DISPATCHER: PacWest OCE… What is the nature of your emergency?

MR. JEFFRY: Mortal interference of Guardianship by a collective.

The doctor and EMTs were in the wrong place at the wrong time and their families, or contractual estate managers, could file a negligent homicide Investigation request against Mr. Jeffry (the three tactical officers were in the County tactical channel at the time and thus associated with Sheriff Kippler’s actions).

They could file, that is, if they were not a part of the collective that was in a running battle with a Guardian trying to save the life of his baby.

So there you have it. Justifiable homicide end-to-end.

Which is all moot. Let’s go back to my three questions and answer them in no particular order:

Did the CEO commit a crime?

Well that is a no-brainer. No. Mr. Scott. Commit a crime. As if.

Does the Investigator have valid jurisdiction over OCE at this time?

An odd question, no? Investigators have jurisdiction over OCE. OCE has jurisdiction over the Military. The Military has jurisdiction over Investigators. So why bother asking this question?

This question is far from academic and resides in the heart of the War Authorization Clauses of the Constitution. There are WAC Protocols empowered by these WAC Clauses that can remove my jurisdiction. For example, OCE suspects one of the participants in an active case is a Unionist.

Ick. Thank you all you fuck-heads for making me think things like that.

Then we come to the last question an Investigator (that would be me and I may or may not be drinking at this point) would ask:

Did the CEO abuse the powers of his office?

My answer is no (damn it I did it again). Mr. Scott acted with all his bloodless, professional glory (how he mages to still be attractive I have no idea) with neither malice nor abuse. Indeed, he acted with distinction and honor. The monies collected were straight from a published OCE Schedule of Judgments (see Appendix Whatever you can do your own fucking net search). At no time did Mr. Scott do anything for personal gain or personal bias in favor of either the Plaintiff or Defendant.

But I get it. I GET IT OKAY. I get that if Mr. Scott made a mistake in his Judgment then all these dead bodies are indeed unjustifiable homicide or even murder and thus we have ourselves a situation.

So pay attention here folks. I am going use small words. Brief and to the point:

Only a CEO can rule on Constitution violations.

Did you get that? I even centered it, bolded it (is bolded a word?) and put it in emphasis. A CEOs authority in interpreting the Constitution is absolute. Only OCE can question another CEO and they take that super-duper seriously, like they give Question the magical upper-case Q (why do we capitalize everything Anyway It Makes No Sense).


This is my Judgment rendered without Question…


But still, I’ll go there for you. Because I’m drunk.

I looked up how to become a CEO. All you need to do is get obtain a Level One cert in Constitutional Study from any Tier One Accreditation service. As anybody who has gotten a cert in CS can tell you, that’s like, well, fucking difficult. I have cert Four and I was damn proud of that. Level One CS is so mind-numbingly boring and filled with cross-studies such as Tactical Applications in Mob Incidents, that there is a current 100% hire rate for anyone obtaining this certificate. And it’s all public.

But wait! There’s more! What cert does Mr. Scott have? 1.1? 1.5 like Officer Gina?

Nope. Mr. Scott has a Level Zero Constitutional Studies Certificate.

What the fuck is Level Zero I thought to myself. So I looked it up. It took some digging. It’s not obscured but it isn’t optimized for a search, either.

Level Zero is a classification given to the people who helped write the Constitution.

That’s right. You assholes asked me to Investigate a CEO WHO WROTE PART OF THE CONSTITUTION for Constitutional interpretation. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT YOU FUCK-TARDS. And I bet Charles knew. He knew. He just wanted it all out there. Social stability or something like that. Well fuck you Charles. AGAIN. I’VE ALREADY FUCKING FORGAVE YOU, OKAY?

I’m back. I had a fight with Dan. He ran off and I think he’s fucking his therapist. Awesome. But I don’t care. Because I took snorf. Yup. Snorf. Snof-Out with Your Tits Out! Just like Dee. Woooooo!

So I’m going to go somewhere else. Fuck the Constitution. Did you catch that? FUCK THE CONSTITUTION. The real question on the table is a matter of morality and how our broken society tried to un-break itself. Are you ready for this? Are you? Here we go.

Nowhere in the Constitution does it say the Government has a monopoly in force. Not a single place. Indeed, in the WAC section of the Constitution is pretty clear that each person who Declared and swore the Declaration Oath has an obligation to dismantle our society if the current society is engaged in Prohibited Acts or using Forbidden Technology. The use of force by a non-Government person is explicit in that regard and thus is a clear precedent, even. And don’t even get me started that County Safety departments are not in the Constitution either. No one single word about. They are private corporations. A collective.

So for you tiny brain peoples I’ll say it one more time:

Nowhere in the Constitution does it say the Government has a monopoly in force.

One last thing. In the war I used women like Dee as bait for Unionist cyborg rape bots. I would drag them to suspected Unionist activity locations, wait for the cyborg, and track it and their screaming victim to a crèche. I would then cap all their evil asses, but I would wait until the cyborg was finished. They were programed to receive pleasure in the act of inserting their extraction tubes in a woman to set up the egg extraction. They took their time. They made these little grunting noises and some of them liked to lick. Some of them were quite talented. Their victims sometimes, you know, responded.

The moral of that story? Don’t mess with babies.

To the Wilsons: no amount of deflection can change the fact you are the worst parents and dishonorable people and I would not piss on if you were on fire.

Everyone can go to hell.

Case Addendum 2: Mr. Scott, PacWest OCE

Lou Wilson has killed himself after killing Tawny Wilson.

Case Addendum 3: Officer Peter, PacWest OCE

I have sold all of our drones on the open market and replaced them with TacWin models. Not as effective as Investigator drones, but clearly a superior product compared to the current competition. I’ve put them through an evaluation and they meet all use cases and then some. Highly Recommended for all OC Enforcements.

Case Addendum 4: Mr. Scott, PacWest OCE

Candice Wilson committed suicide.

Case Addendum 5: Mr. Jeffry, Unknown location

Please rate your satisfaction with your interaction with PacWest OCE on a scale of 1 to 5, with one being the least satisfied and 5 being the most satisfied:


Please rate the competence of your case CEO on a scale from 1 to 5 with 1 being least competent and 5 being the most competent:


Please rate your satisfaction with your interaction with PacWest OCE Dispatch on a scale of 1 to 5, with one being the least satisfied and 5 being the most satisfied:


Thank you for rating PacWest OCE, your answers are helpful. If we have any questions on your ratings, may we contact you?


Please let us know of any comments or suggestions:

Thank you for your help Mr. Scott and Dispatch you were both very helpful.

I had my doubts about the seemingly ridiculous Government we setup after the war but I am a firm believer now. Take care.

Best Regards,
Jeffry and Jackie

Little Girl Gone

(from Landmark OCE Judgments of Mr. Scott, Tokyo University Press, 29)

Incoming (whistle, BOOM)

July 12, 2014 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Characterization, Not Exactly Random, Setting, The Craft  0 Comments

While it may be a bit silly to write a blog post on a blog post, I feel some explanation is in order for the incoming short story.

I have a world-building notebook that sometimes I type in when I’m stuck with a concept, plot detail, characterization, or thematic. Sometimes I realize I need to ramble a bit on-topic but off the rails in order to solidify my thoughts.

Blog wise, I’ve had this ongoing series about cases Mr. Scott, a character in the Lexus Toulouse Mysteries, solved when he was a Constitutional Enforcement Officer. I do it mainly to explore libertarian concepts in the future.

The next blog post is one of those “case files.” As such the whole is intentionally all tell and no show. But, strangely enough, there is a lot of showing by this telling. It’s long, but as I work towards finishing book two, I thought a few readers might be interested in my thought processes around the world Lexus and Mr. Scott live in, and receive some entertainment at the same time.

The story is over 6,200 words and has mature, provocative themes.

The Making of Book 2’s Cover

March 04, 2013 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Awesomesauce, Setting, The Craft  0 Comments

Armageddon’s Princess is a science fiction murder mystery that stands alone. I spent an enormous amount of time and effort to make sure readers have a complete end-to-end storytelling experience without purchasing the next book in the series.

I gotta tell ya though, book 2, The Wælcyrie Murders,  is kicking some serious ass, and here’s Duncan Long’s blog post on the creation of its awesome cover. Click on the cover to go to Duncan’s place and check it out:

Click here to go to Duncan's post.

Red Pill Libertarian Science Fiction

February 11, 2013 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Awesomesauce, The Craft  3 Comments

You can’t buy book 1, Armageddon’s Princess, yet, but here’s the cover art for book 2: The Wælcyrie Murders.

I classify book 2 as red pull libertarian science fiction. Sexy time is had. The Princess goes a bit nanners (again). Bad Guys do bad things, and Good Guys do even worse. Also: boobs, high tech weapons, swoon-worthy boyfriends and large explosions.

Coming in Spring 2013.

The Wælcyrie Murders Cover

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Opening Line

April 16, 2011 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Atmosphere, Plot, Setting, The Craft  2 Comments

The landscape Josh glided through was bleak and blasted, a twisted caress of despair and destruction, yet it was nothing compared to the dark memory of the girl that abused his thoughts.

In Which I SQUEE

July 01, 2010 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Characterization, The Craft  8 Comments

Writing a short story, as opposed to a novel, is difficult for me.  But I vowed to work on that craft, and I’m very pleased that one of my shorts won third place in Michelle Davidson Argyle’s short story contest. Any genre except erotica was welcome, and I picked science fiction.

The Woman” is a story based on the characters in my novel Armageddon’s Princess. Only, I reversed the roles, the story is about Arune, an AI, not about Lexus (although she does play an important part in the story).

Arune is a great character to write. He’s sensitive. He’s based on human DNA, but he is not human, he thinks very, very fast. But he is a person, and an interesting one at that. I was happy to finally be able to do him justice.

I love exploring gender relationships in my writing. My female friends often accuse me of being an incurable romantic. Of that I am proudly guilty.

Dex, 2

April 26, 2009 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: The Craft  0 Comments

I did a bit of exposition into Dex and the people around him, continuing to world-build in the YOUR LITTLE SISTER universe.

If you have been follwoing along, this is pure world-building Anthony: Hack Writer style. It’s not a short, but it is connected to the previous Dex world-building post. If I was going to stuff this into a book, it would be half as long. Or even shorter. Right now, I have no real plot concerning Dex, although I am thinking Major Hackett will make an important appearance, not here, but later.

I love typing away without structure when world-building, seeing where the setting will take me. Here, I am expanding on the history of the YOUR LITTLE SISTER universe. The novel(s) are set eighteen years from these world-building “notes”.


Dex wanted boring back.

Hackett led him to a waiting room at the apex of the space station. She patted his hand, winked at him, and left without a word.

The door slid open and a young woman walked into the room. She was extraordinarily attractive, but her face was a story of fear and worry. She was wearing a brand-new uniform, with Lieutenant Stripes and a S&W G17  strapped to her thigh. Dex guessed she was just out of pre-vocational. She paused when she saw him.

Then she burst into tears and ran from the room.

“The Space Marshal will see you in about five minutes, Leftenant,” said a serene, feminine, voice in his left ear.


Never had five minutes crawled so slowly. Finally, the door opened and a friendly voice called from inside. “Come in, Leftenant, come it.”

Dex strode across a hardwood floor of all things, his new boots clicking. The Space Marshal was standing before his high-tech desk, and Dex stopped and saluted.

Charles Olson held the command General of the Orbital and Space Force, and was primarily responsible for many of the decisions leading to the winning the war and the vanquishing of the enemy.

The new Constitution specified he was beholden to no one. Literally, he was the last in line, both rank wise and from a literal standpoint floating in space above Earth. But a single lowly Constitutional Enforcement Officer could replace him after one of their Jury Trials. Dex thought this was insane, but he had to admit, for a check-and-balance, it was a brilliant insanity.

He knew it was wrong, but he always assumed the man was older and taller. Instead, he was middle-aged, and reminded Dex of his father.

The Marshal returned his salute, briskly shook his hand (and thankfully did not kiss him) and motioned towards a couch with a loveseat in a corner. Dex took the overstuffed chair while the Marshal took the couch.

“This is an orientation, Dex, in which I impress upon my newly minted unrestricted line officers the state of O&E and where they fit into the service.”

“Yes, Sir.” So far, this wasn’t so bad. Dex was still trying to come to grips that he was an unrestricted officer, slatted for command. His two years of vocational training focused on logistics, not command. He would have to go to command school.

He hoped command school was in his future. He really did not know what he was doing. Having people salute him was unnerving.

“First off, and you’ll get all of this in training: O&E is simply a branch in the Military. And that is with a capital “M”. The Constitution does not classify sub-groups, and we probably shouldn’t either. With that said, let me display a the command structure of our entire Military force.”

The coffee table beeped and Dex realized it was a holo projector. Up popped a bunch of boxes with names, connected by lines, and as more boxes came into view, they shrank to display more data. Dex realized he was looking at a three-dimensional org chart.

The chart rotated slowly and the Marshal kept talking. “This is our current officer personnel structure, created after the Military split in three: Office of Constitutional Enforcement, Investigator, Military. Efficiency experts, command analysis and computer modeling designed this model. It flows and adjusts dynamically to standards for our society’s maximum military capabilities.  It’s a brilliant model. Except, of course, it just highlights the singular fact we’re all fucked.”

The Marshal paused and looked at Dex. Suddenly Dex had a bad feeling, one of those nebulous feelings that clawed at the bottom of the gut like an itch.


“The model doesn’t lie. This is what the design is. Now let me show you the model from Year 1 to today in Year 3. Red is unfulfilled slots.”

Red boxes started appearing. And then more. And more. Suddenly half the chart was in red.

“This model is broken. We can’t use it, so we’re using something we all know sucks. Is sucking a bad thing, Dex, since we won the war? Do you think this is a consequence we should just live with?”

“I…” Dex shut his mouth. This was no easy question. Dex decided to do the ‘think aloud approach’. It could sink him, but at least he wouldn’t be sitting on the couch with his dork hanging out.

“Sir, if that is the model, based on an analysis of our global society as it exists, although new, then that is the model and to ignore it is inviting disaster. On one hand, you could argue the model is moot because there is no enemy. We waged genocide and killed them all.” Dex leaned back as he was thinking. He was getting into the rhythm of his answer.

“On the other hand, the purpose of the Military is to wage war on behalf of society to protect it from threats. Well, we already encounter a threat, and it nearly whipped us out as a species. Therefore, we need to plan for an enemy just as nasty and evil as the Unionists. Denial of logic is responsible for killing three-fifths of the planet’s population, if you add the enemy’s casualty count. We cannot deny the possibility of this happening again.”

The Marshal also leaned back and smiled warily. “Very good, Leftenant.”

Dex wasn’t finished. “In a sense, this model is a blueprint for our future society. We learned, with horrific cost, that Total War was necessary or we would cease to exist. ‘Military’ doesn’t mean much today because for several decades every free person was engaged in a war for our very existence. There was nothing political about the war. It was resist or die. So, in a sense, the model is broken.”

The Marshal cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh, how so?”

“Can we, as a society, do anything else but wage Total War?”

Silence filled the room. Finally, the Marshal spoke. “A good question, Dex, a really good question. One I don’t have the answer, and neither does anybody else. We’ll just have to see and pray the Constitution can build a society where we can prevent something like that from ever happening again.”

Dex gave the Marshal a thin smile. “We’ll it helps there is only one Government. We’re finally united as a people.”

At horrific cost, was the qualifier that Dex did not need to add.

“Now we come to the part about you. I read your closing thesis, Current Military Expenditures and the Post-War Economy Incomes. In it, you assert corporate user fees cannot sustain the Military past the war infused Nuevo Credit reserves.”

He paused.

“Yes, Sir.”

“An accurate portrayal of finances, and you even took account post-war economy efficiency gains. Without a tax base, you assert, the Military is sustainable but would regress in capability.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Which is all true. To your credit, you did not give an opinion, one-way or the other, if this would be a good thing or not. So I am now here to ask you that very question.”

Dex did not even hesitate. “No Sir, that is bad. Really really bad,” he added, sounding just like his little sister.

“And why is that bad?”

“We belong in Space. Space won this war; our space assets will win the next war. The answer, I believe, is to somehow encourage private expansion into space beyond the Moon. We’ll just follow.”

The Marshal leaned back, looking thoughtful.

“You’re a credit to your generation, Dex. Your parents and your teachers have taught you well. But I am not here to blow nano up your ass. In a way you are right, but your model, just like the one you see floating here,” the Marshal waved a hand at the floating chart, “is broken. No fault of your own, you’re missing a key data point: Japan.”

Dex was puzzled and he was sure he looked puzzled. Japan went untouched by the ravages of war; they were a very industrial people steeped in tradition. Indeed, Dex held an enormous amount of respect for their culture; they adjusted their entire war economy without ripping their society apart like everyone else. If there was any old-style country with borders, it was Japan. They were not an anachronism; they were simply a lifeline into something normal from the past. Dex was sure without Japan, the war would be lost and the human race would have ceased to exist.

Tradition or no, the Japanese were just as enthusiastic about the new Constitution as everyone else was, so Dex didn’t get it.

“I don’t follow, Sir.”

“That’s because nobody talks about it, Dex, because it’s nobody’s business. Except ours. Because of your commission, I will give you the poop: the Japanese are funding the military through taxes. They have a 10% flat tax rate. And the entire amount, literally, goes into Military coffers.”

“But that is emphatically illegal, Sir. There is no tax authority. It is impossible to compose a government that actually collects taxes.”

“Of course. You’re going to find Constitution Enforcement Officers in Tokyo, but they aren’t going to be arresting anybody. You see, this tax is completely voluntary. The Empress of Japan, through word-of-mouth, simply asked people to make the payments. And that’s it. Everyone does. 10% of any Nuevo Credit earned in Japan simply is donated to us on a monthly basis.”

Dex mind whirled. The implications were staggering.

The Marshal grinned. “Amazing, isn’t it? Don’t think this is a pure altruistic dynamic, Leftenant. For one, what the Japanese giveth, the Japanese can taketh away. If the Empress wanted me to hop on down to the Palace and kiss her lily-white butt, I would do it without hesitation and ask her if she wanted me to wipe her ass with my tongue while I was there. There is also a bit of self-defense in their donations: they are very enamored of their wartime economy. They do not want to go through the upheaval everyone else did by going cold turkey. So they didn’t. And it’s a good thing too, because convincing a private company to make us spaceships when they economy is still adjusting to post-war reality would be an exercise in futility. We’re talking decades to get to the same point, if ever.

Dex was thoughtful. What the Marshal just described was a centralization of power, something the newly designed government was supposed to prevent. Yet it wasn’t illegal, so, in the end, wasn’t this just part of the design of letting people do the right thing?

“Wow,” was all Dex could say, feeling stupid for saying it. He couldn’t think of anything else though. He felt punch-drunk.

“Wow indeed. But back to you, Leftenant. Your paper was widely read by everyone interested in recruiting, which, as you can see here by our handy floating model, is everybody. Let’s stuff you in this model, shall we?”

Suddenly there were blue rectangles replacing the red ones. Dozens and dozens.

“The blue represents places where we can stuff you. See all those white squares above the blue ones, connected by the wispy lines? Every single one of those wankers, and I say that with affection, made a play for you. But I cashed in two silver bullets and burnt a bridge to snag you for my greedy bastard self.”

“Why, Sir?”

“Take off your boots and come with me,” the Marshal replied, taking his off with practiced ease.

Dex did so and felt a little foolish, but the Marshal was also in stocking feet, so he mentally shrugged. They walked out of his office, and then through a door from his reception area to a small room devoid of any furnishings or fixtures. The hardwood turned to bare metal, and in the center of the floor was a simple metal disk, a big dot.

“Step on the dot, Mr. Landau, and keep your hands to your sides.”

Dex did so. He heard a whisper and looked up, and a circular hole opened above him.

And then he was floating, quickly, up. He passed through three rooms and suddenly he was in space.

His caught his breath. Literally, it looked like he was “above” the station, floating in space. There was nothing above him. Nothing to the sides. Below him, there was the station, with a small hole at the top of a tower. Between his bare feet and the hole was nothing.

The Earth loomed impossibly large. It seemed to be tugging at him, and the feeling of vertigo was almost sexual.

Dex realized he was still alive, so he decided to start breathing again. He also realized he was stationary, part of the station’s artificial gravity. There was a “down” and an “up”.

Why did I take off my boots?

Dex took a small hesitant step. His foot found a floor. It felt padded, squishy. He was standing on an invisible floor! He could not help it; he put his hands out to his sides, as if to balance. It felt as if he was walking on pillows, and he moved out twenty feet until he bumped into a wall.

He heard another whisper behind him. The Marshal was standing there, grinning.

“You’re doing a lot better than I was when I first came here.”

“What is this place?” asked Dex, almost in a whisper.

“Don’t know. This is an old US, Japanese and Russian built station. Did you know that before the war, the Japanese and Russians hated each other?”

“No Sir, I didn’t. I find that hard to swallow.”

“Heuh, well threats of annihilation of your very soul is a great catalyst to put petty national interests aside. Anyway, this room is not on the original blueprints. The people who built it are not talking. Hell, we don’t even know who the orbital workers were. All the records were lost in the Cyber War. Anyway, we think this room has some early war religious meaning concerning the alliance of Japan and Russia and their contribution to the Federation. You can line yourself up with the three towers of the station and look down to the Sea of Japan. Or something like that. “

Dex looked out at the Earth. “Well, it certainly is having an impact on me Sir. I have never in my life felt this way before.” Dex felt euphoric. The view was so intense it was like a drug.

“Good. To answer your question, this is half the reason why O&S snagged you from the recruit channels: we believe you’re a pilot. You have no qualms like the prior generation about getting implants, nor Uplinking with an AI. The fact that you are standing here, right now, without pissing your pants, and yes, that does happen, means you can adapt to what we call ‘the macro of space’. All of this is similar to what you will feel and experience when you Uplink. Your senses will expand, and you just have to be the right kind of person to do that. It’s why your placement tests and deep scan seemed like they went on forever. Uplinked pilots are both born and made, and thus hard to find.”

Dex absorbed that.

“And the other reason, Sir?”

The Marshal actually frowned, and Dex felt his heart quicken.

“That’s personal. There’s a certain kind of officer, specifically, vets, that I want on my team. It’s a thin red line. One side lays madness and despair over the horrors of war. On the other side, denial. You, my Brother, are on the razors edge.”

Suddenly Dex did not want the Marshal to continue, but the man held his gaze and Dex was helpless.

“I need the kind of young man who made the decision to kill his little sister in the heat of battle. The same young man who saw beyond the utter awfulness of that act to the long-term ramifications on what would happen if he didn’t kill her. That giving her to the enemy would be a crime beyond her murder. You made a choice where other men could not.”

Dex wanted to float away. “But I didn’t, I didn’t kill my little sister,” he whispered.

The Marshal walked right up to Dex. “Of course you didn’t. But you tried.”

How does he know how does he know how does he know?

Dex fainted.


April 25, 2009 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Characterization, The Craft  1 Comment

Had an itch to write sci-fi separate from the YOUR LITTLE SISTER manuscript. So I decided to do some more world-building and see where it took me. Since I have been accused (by more than one person, I should add) of having a fascination with kissing, here’s a sci-fi kiss. We have the return of Major Hackett, and a new character, Dex. After writing this, Dex seems really fascinating. I don’t know why.

I’m digging the expanded Major Hackett though. Big time.


Leftenant Landau, the Space Marshal wants to talk to you,” said the Major in a neutral, flat voice. The short, sharp-featured woman looked him up and down, as if was a fresh piece of meat. Considering he was just off an orbiter, he was. He could almost see her mentally smirking through the thin veneer of her professional blankness.

Dex froze in place. He had not been on Space Station Mitachi more than five minutes. It was his first time in space. It was his first time in uniform. Hell, he did not even know where the head is, and he had to pee.

But he wasn’t stupid. He saluted the woman, remembering his training.

Training he received only yesterday.

She saluted back, and then stuck out her hand. “Jill Hackett,” she said, her voice warming up. “I am the Marshal’s attaché and all-around gopher girl.”

Dex took her hand and instead of shaking it, she clasped his wrist and pulled him close. She actually stood on her toes and kissed him on each cheek. He hoped his surprise did not wash across his face.

His cheeks felt warm as if he was blushing, and he realized the warmth was not from embarrassment. She was a wælcyrie! He had heard of them, but never had met one until now. His brain raced with the cultural meaning of having one kiss him. It was a social greeting, but also more. They were marking you with nano riders carried on their lips. No one knew why, or if anyone did, they were not telling. Eventually, his internal nano regulator would neutralize the benign foreign nano tech.

Theoretically, at least. It was some small comfort that if the nano was malignant, his regulator would go into full neutralization mode.

He pushed this from his brain as he realized she was now smiling at him. “This way, Leftenant.”

He followed dutifully. He tried to memorize the route but gave up after five minutes. She was probably following a trail displayed in her contact lens HUD, avoiding crowds and construction in real-time, both of which seemed abundant.

Dex decided being shy was stupid. He may be still wet behind the ears, but he was a commissioned officer, newb status notwithstanding. He was being silly.

“Could we take a detour to the head, Major?”

“Of course. This way.”

Soon they were in a unisex bathroom. He made a beeline for a urinal while she disappeared into a stall.

As they were both peeing, she got chatty.

“I saw you have a combat record, Leftenant. Did you see a lot of action?”

“No ma’am. In the war, my family operated a Whisper Net Repeater in the Northern Territories. We got hit with a drop. That was the extent of my contact with the enemy.”

“I glanced at your file, personal details are sparse. You have sisters, yes?”

“Yes. Four. Three older ones and one younger one.”

She came out from the stall and they washed up next to each other.

“Four! Goodness, Landau, how did you survive? And I guess that’s why you’re not shy with having a conversation with a female while peeing.”

“I learned to hide really well,” he said grinning.

“I bet the younger one has you wrapped around her pinky.”

Dex felt the grin freeze on his face. His mother used to say to him “You be careful, Dex, that sister of yours has you wrapped around her pinky!”

Concern played across Hackett’s face. She reached across and moved his hands away from the faucet, and the water turned off. He had spaced out to the point he did not realize his hands were still under the running water.

Now Dex was embarrassed. He didn’t know much about space stations, but he knew wasting water was rude. It had to be re-filtered.

“I’m sorry, Dex. I did not mean to bring up bad memories.”

Dex sighed. “Not so much bad as—bittersweet. Is it that obvious?” Sometimes he felt he was wearing his grief from losing his parents in the war like a cloak. He dried his hands quickly, still embarrassed.

“No, no. The war has been over for only three years, you’ll spot it yourself here soon enough. We all have the odd thing that reminds us of those who are no longer with us.” Suddenly her eyes grew large and luminous. “Sometimes, the hurt just sneaks up on you and wham; it’s like a punch in the gut.”

A single tear slid down her face.

Dex felt a pang of sympathy so strong, it nearly made him shudder. Almost against his will, he reached down to her pixie-like face and brushed the tear away. Suddenly, arms were around his neck and she kissed him, a desperate kiss of mouth and tongue, and he kissed her back, just as desperately.

The door to the head opened and they suddenly looked at the entering man and woman, Corporals. The two stopped in their tracks and stared, the Major still had her arms around his neck and he realized he had a hand on her shapely butt.

The enlisted quickly recovered and snapped smart salutes. Dex just as quickly separated from Hackett and they returned the salutes.

“Major,” said the man.

“Corporal, at ease.” The Major smoothed out her uniform.

Leftenant,” said the woman. She bit her lip and her eyes were dancing.

“Corporal,” Dex said. Suddenly he felt very foolish. He gave her a nod and left, quickly followed by the Major. As the door closed behind them, Dex did not hear laughter but he was positive that is what was going on.

“This way, Leftenant.” He could swear she was blushing.

As he followed the mysterious woman, no, the wælcyrie, Dex had to remind himself­­­—he wondered what the Space Marshal wanted of him. In the span of three days, he advertised his availability for work, received a commission, took a 12-hour orientation corpse, was deep scanned and re-assigned to Orbital and Space because of his genetic predisposition to neural implant acclimation coupled with high scores in AI interfacing. In moments, he will be meeting with the Commander of Orbital and Space. Tomorrow he will undergo surgery and then tanked for regen therapy for a month to finish growing the cyber tech and then acclimate his body to the implants.

Somehow, in the midst of all of this, he kissed the Space Marshall’s intelligence officer—a genetically engineered soldier from the war times who, technically, was not human.

Dex had to admit to himself that his future, if the present was any indication, was a big unknown to him, very different from his carefully sister-arranged life. This both terrified and elated him. Whatever tomorrow holds, it would not be boring!

Dawson vs. Fernando

February 19, 2009 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Setting, The Craft  6 Comments

Dawson vs. Fernando came to the Portland office as a Whole of Body case.

Mr. Dawson of Hazel Dell, Washington, owns a Boston terrier named “Skootie” (see Attachment A). Mr. Fernando, also of Hazel Dell, claimed that Skootie was “driving him absolutely mad with her incessant barking” (see Attachment B).

The Portland Office of Constitutional Enforcement received this complain earlier, and we referred Mr. Fernando to several local mediators operating in the Portland-Vancouver area. Mr. Dawson agreed to mediation. Mr. Fernando, however, claimed the mediators he talked to were too expensive to employ (see Attachment B). Mr. Fernando then repeatedly called the Portland Office for assistance.

In the Portland Office, a robust and unnecessary game of rock-paper-scissors ensued, in which I lost. Thus, the next morning I drove to Hazel Dell and waited in the neighborhood for the sun to come up, after a call to County Safety so they would not harass me in my morning barking stakeout.

I observed several interesting things on this fine spring morning (see Attachment C):

  • Mr. Fernando lives in a well-kept house in a nice suburban neighborhood, driving a modern Toyota
  • His wife, Ms. Lashmir, wore expensive clothing and drove away in a year-old Ford Mustang convertible (top down, hair in a scrunchy)
  • Her car had a Starport of Portland parking barcode on it. Doing a quick goog search, Ms. Lashmir is the Second in Command of Accounting at SoP

At 07:15, the front door to Mr. Dawson’s residence opened and Skootie immediately ran out. The door closed, and I observed (see Attachment D):

  • Skooite barks at many things. Birds, a jogger, a squirrel, the lamppost, a cat and an evil chew toy which refused to play with her
  • Skootie ran, unhindered, to a neighbor’s yard (not Mr. Fernando), and took an enthusiastic morning poop in a flowerbed
  • She then, with her back legs, tossed flowers and dirt willy-nilly, doing nothing to cover said poop but looking enormously pleased with herself
  • After running around the neighborhood for fifteen minutes, Skootie then sat by the front door of the Dawson residence
  • She whined repeatedly, looking forlorn and finally barked for five minutes until the door opened

Simialar activity occurred both in the afternoon and at night.

I repeated the Great Skootie Stakeout of Year 2 for an additional three days. I observed familiar behavior from Skootie on all the days, and did not observe at any time Mr. Dawson or Ms. Lashmir walking the Boston on a leash.

It is my judgment that Mr. Dawson is indeed in violation of the Whole of Body clause. His neglect of Skootie the dog causes inappropriate behavior that is disruptive to the neighborhood. On day three the barking was actually getting on my nerves.

I have seized Skootie to have her put down as menace animal. I handed my autopistol to Mr. Fernando, and told him he was in the right to do so and that was my Judgment. He refused.

Skootie is now orphaned through no fault of her own. For his failure to render Judgment as directed, I seized 10,000 credits from Mr. Fernando to pay for the upkeep of Skootie throughout her Boston life.

This is my Judgment, rendered with one Question. The Question is as follows:

Officer Gina: Oh my God, is that the dog? She is soooo cute! Look at that little face. I could just kiss that little face! What are you going to do with her?

Officer Scott: She’s my dog now. I’ve signed us both up for doggie training.

G: Give me the dog.

S: What? No. This is my dog.

G: You live in a high-rise apartment.

S: There is a very nice park by my building.

G: I live on five acres.

S: Gina, she’s not a big dog. Are you, Skootie? Who’s the little dog? Who is?

Skootie: Bark!

G: Scott, you are not a dog person.

S: I am too! Well, I could become one.

Skootie: Bark!

G: I Question your ability to properly give Skootie the squirrel chasing she deserves. Look at her. She is sad.

S: She’s a Boston! She looks sad even when she is happy! And are you Questioning my Judgment in this case?

G: Yes, I am.

S: Well, I will call a jury.

G: You wouldn’t dare.

S: Look, I have my PDA, I’m calling it right now.

G: I’ll give you visiting privileges.

S: Not good… um, like what?

G: Occasional weekends, no less than 1, no more than 3, a month. I will also let you walk Skootie when I have her here in the Office.

S: I want it in writing. And I want dinner when I come over. I also want the Judgment monetary seizure to go into a separate account, not your personal account.

G: Fine.

S: Fine.

Skootie: Bark!

S: How about the occasional breakfast?

G: Do I need to put that in the agreement too?

S: Only if you say yes.

Skootie: Bark!

Mr. Scott
Office of Constitution Enforcement
Portland, Oregon
May 17, 2

(from Landmark OCE Judgments of Mr. Scott, Tokyo University Press, 29)

Ms. Sylvia vs. Gary Drummond and Kari Drummond

February 05, 2009 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Not Exactly Random, Setting, The Craft  0 Comments

(from my world-building notebook)

In the matter of Sylvia, formally Sylvia Drummond of Lake Oswego, Oregon vs. Gary Drummond and Kari Drummond—also of Lake Oswego—I find for Ms. Sylvia’s claims as petitioned in totality.

Ms. Silvia, at age of thirteen, successfully made her Declaration and moved out of her childhood home. Her first action as an Adult was to claim her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, violated her Constitutional rights, specifically Whole of Body clauses. She petitioned the Portland Office of Constitutional Enforcement (OCE) and was successful in making her case.

Ms. Silvia requires extensive gene therapy to correct several abnormalities caused by in-vitro chromosome manipulation (see Attachment A) to bring about heightened intelligence and a physical appearance that can classified as “beautiful” by current societal norms.

While Ms. Silvia is indeed beautiful, and is smart, she suffers from potentially fatal grand mal seizures because of a defective nervous system that is a side effect of this particular type of DNA recoding (see Attachment B).

That her parents were paying for her medical bills as her primary caregiver, and were no longer required to when she Declared, is immaterial. The time the damage occurred to Ms. Silvia’s body is also irrelevant. The relevant facts for finding are:

  • Ms. Silvia is an Adult
  • Her biological parents caused her body on going, and potentially fatal, harm

Gary Drummond and Kari Drummond violated their daughter’s Constitutional Rights as outlined in Section 2 (Whole of Body), Clauses 1 through 4. Their actions were both short-sided and malicious; as Mr. Drummond is on record (see Attachment C) admitting, “We wanted the perfect child to run the family business.”

The mitigating circumstances of this case are, essentially, Ms. Silvia was less of a daughter and more of a tool grown in a vat and then implanted in her mother. They declined to give her gene therapy, as this could change her heightened mental capacity, and were only treating the symptoms of Ms. Sylvia’s artificial condition. Gene manipulation to create what is essentially a family slave, dependent on medical care necessitated by that very manipulation, is extremely repugnant and arguably violates the Constitution’s Whole of Body Slavery Clause, for which the penalty is Death.

Ms. Silvia, however, does not support a Death Warrant. While OCE does not require her support in a Slavery violation case, the totality of the situation requires me to set aside this potential Charge.

I have seized all of the Drummond’s assists, rendered their instruments on the trade market, and allocated them to Ms. Silvia. Because of the violation to Article 1 of Section 2 by both Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, the People at Large have suffered harm. Both parents are henceforth declared personae non gratae for the duration of thirteen years, the time Ms. Sylvia spent as their daughter and ward.

This is my Judgment rendered fully with no Question.

Mr. Scott
Office of Constitution Enforcement
Portland, Oregon
February 05, 14

(from Landmark OCE Judgments of Mr. Scott, Tokyo University Press, 29)