Chapter 3

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week IV, Day VII - Week VI, Day VI
Summary: Chapter 3 prompts!
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, blood, et cetera. For anything surpassing 'R' on a rating scale, please create your own log.
Notes: Please title your subject line in the following format -- Open / Closed | Date. OOC event information can be found here. Calendar information/dates can be found here.

Quick Navigation
The Nine
The Company
Westies
True Leithians
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Promises Unmade

Using the increase in unrest, as so many opportunists do, those within the Nine who seek to pursue their own agendas - whether that be family prestige, personal gain, or systematic upheaval - will find bountiful footholds to secure their positions. Land Kendry continues to assert itself as a leader in these troubling times, with Land Derrish falling in tow. Their first target, Land Hyponia, is shaken, careful not to make any mistakes that could crumble the already cracked mortar holding them together with the nobility. Aggressive though Land Derrish may have been, their sights have moved elsewhere, now focusing on driving forward oppressive legislation to replace the Seventh Generation Accords, rather than further eroding the power of Land Hyponia. Kendry is looking to control a functioning oligarchy, not cause a war over the territory that would be up for grabs should Land Hyponia fall. With the announcement of the Seventh Generation accords confirming already widespread rumors, those within the Nine are careful to place blame for the decision on the activities of the Resistance. For many, this is a believable conclusion, as the attacks by the True Leithans shook society at its core on both Westerley and Leith. Being a radical group, their intentions have been conflated with those of the Resistance in the eyes of many. Discourse on the subject isn't uncommon, but any within the Nine who seek a different target of blame best do so quietly, as dissent from within could quickly have one labeled a sympathizer of the unjust cause of the Resistance. On the surface a harmless placating measure taken by the Nine, the new PDDs being distributed through the Quad are touted as the pinnacle of communication technology. While some higher ranking Company officials and members of the nobility may already have access to quick and reliable network connection, these capabilities are now universal with the installation of the Meshwork. The Meshwork will enable all characters to interact in real time via text, video, or voice, but it isn't without side effects. For some reason, characters who frequently use their PDDs or who are in areas of heavily concentrated network use may suffer from headaches, nosebleeds, blurred vision, and/or dizziness, with more severe side effects including temporary blindness, loss of balance, short-term memory loss, and hallucinations. Connection of these symptoms to the PDDs is not the most common diagnosis, as many think the afflictions are a result of the aftershocks of P43X.

The Company: Balancing Act

With clean up from the P43X attack not yet completed, all Company officials should expect to have no singular responsibility, and little time for sleep, as they find the expectations levied upon them to only grow. Frayed nerves can create a hostile working environment, though anyone could be on the receiving end of any outbursts. The streets have returned from their throes of death with new life, but the city's usual clamor is being overtaken by the roar of protest. Some are peaceful demonstrations; some are violent riots, every display a reaction to the repeal of the Seventh Generation Accords. …At least, that’s what it says on paper, the docket that many Company officials receive outlining simple but brutal crowd control and suppression tasks. Whether a bar has been taken over as a hub of dissent, a street corner filled with unmoving protestors, or a Company affiliated storehouse raided, there's plenty to do for those tasked with keeping the peace. You may simply wish to make arrests, or you may welcome the chance to get your hands dirty - the law is on your side, and all voices daring to oppose the order of things need silenced. Those who don't take to the streets will likely find themselves on border control duty, checking the identification and supply dossiers of all incoming and outgoing ships. No one gets in, or out, without the proper clearance. Ship-wide searches have become standard practice, producing storerooms overflowing with contraband. Some may welcome the chance for banal organization, while others may take some 'bonus compensation' for themselves. With the tightening of rules comes the increase of bribery, and Company officials looking to line their pockets will find their opportunities in surplus. Get caught, however, and there's no second-chances. Although the Company audits have concluded, tensions only grow, and anyone found helping those with diverging agendas will be punished swiftly, cast in with the rest of the dissenters.

Westies: Tidal Force

Bereavement weighs heavy in the wake of the P43X attack on Westerley. Burdened by being both the last location of infection and the last to receive medicinal aid, Westies are entrenched in the solemn task of burying their fallen while the merciless machine of the economy marches on. Whether it’s the result of a lost loved one or the continued illness of primary caretakers, the end result is the same: families all across Old Town struggle to feed their children and make ends meet. It’s always been a guiding principle of Westerley—if you can’t work, you can’t eat—but with so many who can do neither, the situation in Old Town begins to grow dire. But there’s hope, albeit in the form of a double-edged blade: with the newly distributed PDDs and Meshwork installation, nonprofit organizations are able to conduct themselves on a wider scale, drawing in more donors from outside of Westerley. While their efforts are ultimately but a drop in the ocean, the renewed spirit of community and altruism provides relief—as well as nourishment—for many who might very well die without it. That same tool which allows the people to come together is also used to rend it; rumors begin to circulate through encrypted bulletins about the emergency meeting held on (Week IV, Day VII). Some of the rumors are wild speculation and fanciful daydreams, but in the mire of them, a grain of truth slips through. The Accords have fallen, they say. Be ready. Most people disregard the rumors, writing them off as the idle machinations of conspiracy theorists. They cling to their hope that soon their children will walk a planet that is bountiful in food and sunshine, that the land promised on Leith will deliver them from the hell they current endure. It’s those people who shout the loudest when the official announcement confirms the rumor. The Accords have been repealed. (Week V, Day III) At first, protestors gather in small, grumbling groups, little more than angry drunks. But as more and more people take to the Meshwork, the wrath of the few awakens the desperation of the many, and over the course of the night, the peaceful protest swells into an unruly riot. Workers strike, but without any legal protection, they swiftly find themselves rebuked by unemployment. Now with nothing to lose and everything to gain, the riots expand, filling the streets of Old Town with anger and tension. Company personnel become popular targets, and within the next day, all travel permits to and from Westerley are temporarily revoked. The moon closes its docks in an attempt to smother the flames of the rebellion. What starts as a movement for change shifts into a violent cataclysm, homes and businesses burned down, families torn apart by dissent within and outside of themselves. The Company seems content to let Old Town destroy itself, to let them “get it out of their system”, but all too soon that stance changes as well. With the death of a distant cousin of the Derrish, Company orders shift. Lethal force is authorized, and all too eagerly, used. Once the death toll begins to climb, the protests decline. The riots soften, though they do not disappear outright. Company and Westie optimists take to podiums in a desperate attempt to bid their fellow compatriots once more into peace. But something else awakens in the fires of those riots. Something far more dangerous than the chaos of anger: something controlled, methodical. They call themselves Hyperion, and they are the new faces of the Resistance.

True Leithians: Rested Laurels

For this faction, the time to scatter is nigh. Their work is complete: the Accords are no more, and the militant leaders order the reintegration of their soldiers into civilian life. Leith’s rightful owners retain the precious land that was once threatened, and although their methods were extreme, they are justified by the end result. But while the True Leithians see this as only a rested pause in their work, their benefactors—those who provided the resource and information that allowed their wicked deeds to see fruition—see this time as the closing of a chapter. Loose ends that might later lead to Qreshi officials or even potentially the Nine themselves are dealt with severely and harshly, albeit quietly. Several prominent figures of Leith’s highest echelon of society simply disappear, and curiously, those around them don’t seem to remember that they were ever there in the first place. Their benefactors are not the only group that would see the True Leithians burn. Among the first wave of missions delegated beneath the Resistance is the assassination of known True Leithian sympathizers. Unlike the Company, the members of Hyperion are ordered to perform their tasks loudly, to send a message written in the blood of the True Leithians. The citizens of Westerley will no longer be the gutless pawns of the Quad. They will strike back, and they will uncover the source of the True Leithian’s funding and information. If the True Leithians thought themselves ruthless, they’ll soon learn a new measure of savagery when Hyperion converges on their trail.

Leith: Olive Branch

The atmosphere of Leith is one of both hope and mourning. Recovery on Leith proceeds more efficiently than that on Westerley, their infrastructure and resources better able to accommodate those that were felled in the P43X attack. But although agency has the streets of Leith cleaner and the surfaces shining, the spirit of the moon itself suffers a devastating blow in the wake of the attack, the people of Leith unprepared and unseasoned to deal with the psychological ramifications of so much death. But they are not yet hardened by the experience, drawing together in the spirit of cooperation to restore not just the physical aspects of their homes, but the mental fortitude of their people. Charity drives and galas proceed in extravagant fashion, as if by the display of their assets they might rebel against the somber circumstances on which they’re hosted. For most on Leith, the fall of the Accords arrives as welcomed news, the citizens of the moon long since opposed to sharing their land with those of Westerley. But although the sense of satisfaction with the ends is high, there’s also an undercurrent of regret for the means which provided it. Unlike the True Leithians, most of the citizens of Leith are not radical or extreme, and they offer their sympathies—but only their sympathies—to those Westies in their midst. News of the riots results in tighter security around the Westies still stationed on the moon, and for the days that the violent storm on Westerley builds, Leith in turn becomes markedly quieter and more conscientious. Moderates come together over the Meshwork and propose a Peace Summit, a meeting of both delegation and charity, once the riots and dangers of traveling have passed. The summit is sanctioned by Leithian officials, as well as the allocation of surplus resources to aid their sister moon in her recovery. While many citizens of Leith eagerly await the news of lands once lost to their families for the Accords, many more donate their time and hands as part of the newly created Good Will Corps, a coalition of both political pundits and regular people devoted to strengthening the connection between the moons rather than sowing division. Volunteers—and some individuals who are voluntold, join the Good Will Corps on a trip to Old Town where the Peace Summit is scheduled (Week VI, Day III), lending their time, their labor, and their technology as a gesture of good faith. But whether or not that’s sufficient to see the Peace Summit garner any steps towards system stability is another matter altogether.

Resistance: Sacred Grove

The people of the Quad barely have time to remove the packaging from their new PDDs before a new voice of dissent begins to worm its way down the feed. Encrypted messages, quick flashes of imagery begin appearing at random on open networks and closed channels alike, pitting the harsh realities of the suffering, suffocating Westerley against the excess and decadence on display by both Leithians and the Nine, showcasing the disparity in the starkest of lights. All of it aimed at one purpose, to spread one solemn truth: the branches of the Mother Tree are burning… and the Nine seem to be holding the matches. The name whispered, the one goading dissent, echoes through the Quad - Hyperion - followed slowly with the murmur of hope. Of an intellect so profound that not even the Nine themselves will be able to stop it. With an artful ease, this new force begins to reach out, to commandeer the discordant efforts of the Resistance and reforge it into something stronger, faster. Deadlier. It starts with a select few receiving instructions directing them to safe houses already stocked with equipment and supplies, each with tech tailored to that cell's purpose and loaded with dossiers far too complete to have been compiled by the average citizen. Some of the background information appears to come directly from the records of the Company, or the Nine themselves, while still more from planets outside the Quad. Some even hint at records long since sealed by the RAC. Nothing points to one faction over another. Nothing reveals the how or why this Hyperion has decided to play these particular cards now, but one thing is quite clear. There's a deep laid plan being set into motion, and neither the Company or the Nine will see it coming. All these leaders have to do is gather their forces...

The RAC: New Grade

The citizens of the Quad were not the only ones affected by the P43X - the upper ranks of the RAC's field agents is notably thinner - and with tensions shifting yet again between the moons, they cannot afford to be ill-prepared and understaffed. In order to bolster their ranks, the decision comes down the pipe of a new assessment system: Peer Evaluations. Many of those that have been in their current ranks - those between Levels I - III - will be eligible to receive a two-part assessment of their capabilities to operate efficiently at the next level through successful completion of live warrants. These field evaluations can be conducted by any Level IV agent and turned into Central Command for compilation and rank change approval. Unlike the lower level agents, Level IV assessments will still be conducted by RAC's Central Command, once all of the subordinate assessments have been completed and processed. These agents should take note - part of their own evaluations for Level V will be the efficiency with which they're able to evaluate those below them. During this time, warrants will still flow in and agents sent to answer - especially once the travel bans go into effect on Westerley, as those agents alone bearing active warrants will be able to enter and leave the atmosphere, though their docking point will be limited to the Prisoner Intake facilities.

Comments

[eleutheron]

[ The Company keeps Fenris busy ... but not that busy. He's sure Nyx understands. Orders would always have to come first. ]

If I have no duties, I'm usually soaking in one of these hell-holes, anyway. Might as well be giving my joy to a familiar face.

[eleutheron]

[ Fenris isn't one to mince words. ]

You debased yourself for unnatural power. Don't touch me with your filth.

[ At least he's not attacking the rioters anymore ... ]

[fledges]

I don't have orders.

[She slips her arrow back into her quiver and sling her bow over her shoulder, because she really, really doesn't want this to get violent if it doesn't have to.]

These people aren't monsters, they're desperate. They don't deserve execution.

[eleutheron]

[ He watches her carefully, trying to guess at her thoughts. Fenris has no special powers of insight, but he has a good ability to read the room, so to speak. A necessary survival skill when your existence is so thoroughly dependent on someone else's whims.

He cannot mark the shape of whatever's passing through her mind, but he finds himself dissatisfied by her answer. There's a little bit of logic to it -- control through fear can be just as effective as the direct method -- but is that really what she wants here?

He has little desire to continue choking the angry citizenry, anyway. So, as usual: he will not question. Instead, he bows his head slightly, lowering his fists. He comes along. ]

Wherever you go, I will follow.

[ Because he must. ]

[eleutheron]

[ A few moments pass. The hallucination, memory, whatever it is--it fades. Fenris breathes hard, clutching at his chest; perspiration drips down the back of his neck, his hair and the stiff fabric of his shirt are sticky with it, clinging to his skin. He stares up at Giovanni like he's not even sure the other man is there. ]

I--I do not know. The word came to me unbidden. Like a memory from a dream.

[ Probably he sounds like a madman. But if there's anyone he can admit this kind of thing to, he supposes it's probably Giovanni. ]

[eleutheron]

[ No doubt about it: Genji is mercilessly fast. He moves like water itself, liquid and bright; Fenris has trouble tracking him as Genji strikes--once, twice, three times. Fenris dodges as best he can, but he can't avoid the brunt of it. Genji's katana cuts open Fenris's uniform, shredding the top, biting into the skin beneath. Blood spatters onto the ground.

Fenris snarls. Wisdom would have him jump away, try to create distance. But he's angry and frustrated, and the hot feel of his own blood dripping down his stomach doesn't do anything to moderate that rage. So he leaps forward, instead, trying to not so much get within Genji's range as push beyond it, to grab his attacker by the throat with one hand and punch him with the other. He doesn't seem to care how well he succeeds--though he's not shouting, his expression is tight with fury, and his muscles tense enough to snap. ]

I do as I am bid. I do as I must.

[eleutheron]

[ He knows that's true, of course. They are desperate. So is he.

But he doesn't respond to that part of her answer. He just takes a few angry steps towards her, scowling. ]

You were following me. Why?

[eleutheron]

[ He glances over at Vaughn's fancier model, and feels an immediate rush of contempt. ]

They monitor us through these things. Through all of these--devices. You know that, don't you?

[ He shakes his head. ]

Perhaps you're of their ilk. Perhaps it has no bearing on you. But that is not the case for most of us.

[kirkwalled]

[ Hawke really is struggling a little here, honestly. She doesn't want to fight, doesn't want to get involved, just wants to look for her dog but --

Ugh.

She hears the shout of her name and her head jerks up as she tenses, landing sharp on Kara before where she's looking and no. The neutrality is great, sure, but there's no real moral grey area when it comes to an enforcer trying to shoot a civilian. There's nothing in Hawke's bones that can let her allow that to happen so she moves quick.

And by "moves quick", it's more that she pulls her hand back and immediately decks the enforcer so hard, she feels a tooth crack under her knuckle. The gun scatters to the ground, as does the enforcer, and Hawke follows up with a swift quick to the ribs to knock him out cold.

Then there's the -- ]

... Oh, shit.

[ That moment. She sort of panics a moment later, throwing a wide eyed looked at Kara as if she's got an answer for this. Shit, shit, shit. She just knocked out an enforcer, oh god. ]

[kirkwalled]

[ Well, way to underestimate her, Hijikata!! Because she is super ready to go, ready to have a great time and fight a few... bad folks? Honestly, she isn't even sure if they're the "bad" people here aside from a bit of poor management skills. How many times has Hawke forgot to fill out some paperwork before? Too many! She feels like they ought to just slap a fine on them and leave, but no they had to involve a killjoy instead. Maker's breath.

The passive aggressive suggestion she should read the brief more in full has he raising an eyebrow at the man but sure, alright. She just opens it up to grab the coordinates again and punches them in, humming idly at his question. ]

Ah, forty five minutes? They're not too far out. So, I mean. A bit excessive, isn't it? For something as little as misfiled paperwork. Couldn't you have just given them a call?

[rhygret]

[ Even the cleaned-up versions of the riots sounded bad, honestly....so this doesn't comfort him much. ]

Should you--are you okay to work?? Right now? I mean that looks uh, pretty painful.

[fledges]

[Kate frowns, considers lying for a moment, then decides against it.]

I wanted to figure out what you were doing.

if it helps i did not see them

[eggplanting]

I don't even remember your name.

[That's a bit of a lie, since she's fairly certain it's Jason, though she's not entirely sure and anyway, the point is that she had promptly moved on from their initial meeting because she had other, more important shit to worry about.

More important things like dodging backwards to avoid another couple of punches, this time she focuses on swerving and blocking, rather than striking back just yet. Let them tire themselves out, she's got energy for days.]

[kirkwalled]

[ There's something so infuriating about all of this. Fenris' dismissal feels like a slap to the face and she finds herself growing angry, for his actions, and for him in general. She isn't sure why, the twist in her gut as he sees him here and can't help but think that the entire image is wrong. No, this isn't Fenris, is t?

But she supposes she doesn't know him well enough to say. She bites her lip and shakes with anger and she isn't sure where to go from there, so she argues back once again. ]

You -- You can't just go around hurting civilians, Fenris. Killing them! It isn't your right to take their lives, nothing you could possibly say would make that right!

[ And in this, during her reprimand, she reaches out to grab his arm because -- well, she's not sure, but pulling him away from this seems like the right thing to do. People are still staring fearfully, terrified eyes on the both of them and a dead body at their feet? No, this isn't right. ]

[valr]

[Unlike Hawke's moment of oh shit, Kara is incredibly relieved as she ushers someone past her, towards the safety of a nearby building, telling to keep their head down until this passes.

Then Kara makes her way over quickly, to Hawke and the unconscious Enforcer.]

Thanks.

[A simple word, but there's an actual hint of emotion behind it, which is a rare thing for Kara, who likes to pretend that she doesn't give a shit about anyone.

What she doesn't give a shit about is Company Enforcers, and that's why she's picking up his dropped pistol.]

Might not wanna watch this part.

[The only good Enforcer is a dead Enforcer.]

[rhygret]

Oh. Right. I guess there's that too yeah. [ Rhys: in severe need of a moral compass. ]

But yeah "we", come on man. You don't think I'd leave my best bro out of all the fun do you??

[sunderings]

You're all right.

[ —the Director soothes, though whether the words are for Giovanni, or for the child who keens and cries from the stress placed upon a limb already strained by injury, remains unapparent. Unapparent, until the moment after Sion instructs the child to make use of the bite cloth (it will help with the pain, he promises, though he does not mention how), when his hand (gentle-strong, the embrace of willowed fingers, steadfast and leaving no room for doubt) envelops Giovanni's own, guiding the stretch of muscle, the placement of bone, beneath a touch which is--...

Every bit as inhuman as Giovanni's own.

Augmented to boast strength far surpassing that which he should have rightfully possessed, for the Director, every action is a precise application of control, even the way his hand fits to Giovanni's own. The sensation of touch has long since gone from him, the steady thrum of pain stemming from the network of biocircuitry inside of him numbing him to all else, and so it with only the utmost care (the most ginger exercise of pressure) that he leads the pull of Giovanni's hand with his own—mindful of the fractured area, mindful of excess pressure and torque—until the moment when muscles slacken just enough such that--...

The fracture realigns with a sound, one which seems to reverberate through the bone newly repositioned by their hands, the scream of the child muffled by the cloth, but made no less gripping for it. ]

Your own body, your own hands, Giovanni. [ —Sion affirms, his touch falling away as he shifts to steady their patient, his palm pressed to the child's chest to see them stilled, if only for the moment. ] Use them to hold the leg as it is.

[ Leaving Sion to secure the splint, thin pieces of board on either side of the leg to immobilize the bone where it has been set, fastened by a series of knotted fabrics tied with finesse. ]

You are able to aid someone as much as anyone else.

[rhygret]

[ The sad part here is that Rhys thinks that there's more to this story. He thinks there's something after--something coming next, so he just sits there in silence for several seconds expectantly until he realizes she's paused or something?

He gestures a little. ]

...And? [ There should be more to this story shouldn't there???? ]

[kirkwalled]

[ It isn't as if Hawke's unaware of what Kara's about to do, and it isn't as if Hawke wouldn't do the same given the right circumstances but --

But there is a grimace on Hawke's face as Kara picks up the pistol and she steps back. This is where Hawke has to draw the line, is forced to in fact, because there's only so much involvement she can make while skirting the lines of neutrality.

Kara is right, of course. The only good Enforcer is a dead one but. But.

Well, Hawke's not sure how to finish that either. ]

... Eurgh, do try not to get it on my boots. I just had them cleaned and brain splatter is always a downer.

[ And then, of course, she'll look away. She had no involvement in this, if she's asked. ]

[caninity]

[As if she were nest of vipers or something. Even his breath's gone uneven -- talk about extra.]

...That's not the problem.

[As if he, or they needed an example, en empty glass bottle comes careening his way. It's something he'd avoid with ease if he weren't totally engrossed in the fact that she may try to invade his personal bubble. It makes contact with his skull, though it was probably meant for the window just beyond his head. His response is atypical; he may as well have been hit with a bag of sand.

He spares a moment to scan the immediate area for a culprit. There's some blood and the impact definitely hurt to some degree...but it's fine. The search is over a few seconds after it began and she's got his full attention once more.

Where were they-?]

[rhygret]

I... [ He can understand the circumstances? Just not necessarily the...sentiment. But he's trying? Because she wants him to, not because there's any natural desire on his part. Steph matters, so what matters to Steph matters. ]

Yeah. I mean...right now everyone here hates everyone related to the Nine even if most of us didn't have a say in the decision. So it's like that? Only...you know, worse.

[eggplanting]

And that's it.

[Did she not explain it right, or is he just apparently really calm about it, because she sure as hell wasn't calm about it when she first realized what was happening.]

I don't remember anything, Rhys. Not my childhood, not school, not pilot training. I woke up one day with nothing there and I just... didn't tell anyone.

[Until now.]

I don't know what happened to me.

[People don't just get amnesia out of the blue, and what she's scared of is the potential that she's done something horrible to end up like this.]

[eggplanting]

[It's enough, right now, that he gets it, and her shoulders drop a little as the relief sets in.]

Sorry I dragged you into an argument, I hope that isn't gonna reflect badly on you.

[Image doesn't matter to her, but it's how Rhys' whole life works, and she knows that sort of thing can have repercussions.]

[rhygret]

[ that's how Rhys remembers the incident ok!! ]

If by weird you mean "talk to my drink" then...no?

[rhygret]

Thanks man--I owe you one. [ And you know, while he's in the habit of asking favours this one is probably a good idea too, just before he heads off: ]

Oh, and uhhh....iiif for some reason I'm not back in say, oh, and hour or two could you--could you get people to check and make sure I'm alive and stuff? Just. As a precaution. I'm sure it'll be fine but...j, just in case.