[b]Brown![/b]

"I could punch a cop," said Brown. "I've been training really hard at martial arts just so that I've got that option. But honestly, probably like, Red or White would figure something out. Most of the time I consider anyone paying attention to me at all be inherently a fuck up, and if I got randomly selected it meant I wasn't paying enough attention to the patterns."

"Speaking of," she asked. "What're the cop patterns in your opinion? What do you think is the best way to handle them?"

[b]Orange and Black![/b]

"Scouting" is an extremely dangerous word in this context. It's not immediately clear why - who doesn't love scouting? But scouting implies information transmitted to a central headquarters, information transmitted to a central headquarters implies communications channels to frontline commanders, communications to frontline commanders implies a level of central direction, centralized direction got the Red Army pocketed and destroyed while Stalin dithered. 

Every additional decision November makes in this context further places her as The Decision Maker, to seizing unitary control, to rendering this thirty minute walk down the street top-heavy and brittle. It was good that Yellow was exorcised at this moment because it keeps Orange and Black cool-headed and aware of their own limits. Orange's most clear-sighted act in this moment will be to take her hand off the wheel and let her subcommanders draw their own strategies. They know what the mission is, they know the routes available, they know what to do if they encounter resistance, they have their own assets and espirit de corps and ideas, they don't [i]need [/i]her to run this for them. 

In ancient days, the [i]Strategos [/i]of the army was not the one issuing orders to formations like a strategy game. Once the army was in place it moved itself. The Strategos, then, stood in the rear, on a hill, with the heavy cavalry, looking for the break in the lines where she would need to commit her reserves. Recon by fire, then, and full trust to the marshals. Call her for support and not for orders.

[b]Pink![/b]

"Stop," said Pink. "Just for a moment. This is serious."

She held Fiona's hand, firm and intent. "I am deeply afraid of sensory deprivation, and that's what will happen if you disconnect my quatronic core. That's what it was to be in the box. Everything I've done since then has been an attempt to maximize the influence of my actions, so that I don't feel that helplessness. I'm already tense as hell going even this far."

"But I'm tense as hell all the time anyway," she sighed and lay back on the bed, closing her eyes. "And I'm way off my maintenance schedule. So... go ahead. I trust you."