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

[refactor]

[ There is definitely no doubts whatsoever that someone is here. After all, when Bucky walks into the bunker, there's the immediate sound of... music? Though there's also parts of it that aren't music, like the sound of metal hitting metal and Jack yelling. At least it's not terribly loud, or not so loud to be heard outside of the bunker... ]

You stupid! [ bang ] PIECE! [ clang ] OF CRAP!

[ Aaaand crash, and the music cuts off abruptly. A pretty large robot gets kicked out of a side area that Jack seems to have made "his" area. It's a workbench with various parts on it that are all technical, and at the moment, for building a robot. What he's just kicked out is about as tall as his waist, and it's garishly yellow, but at least not playing dubstep anymore. Jack himself is looking a bit disheveled, with his usually perfect hair out of place, glasses, and even a cigarette tucked behind his ear. It seems like he's going for "engineer chic" today.

But of course, as soon as Bucky enters, Jack looks up sharply at first, but then just sighs out in exaggerated agony before dragging his hands across his face. ]

God, I— I wish you had? Hooooooly crap, this is a piece of junk. Why- Why did I think this was a bright idea? All it does is friggin'— That!

[ He gestures towards it angrily, but then pulls the cigarette from behind his ear before digging in his pockets for the lighter. After that outburst, he definitely needs a smoke. ]

[lefthandfree]

[He laughs good-naturedly before stepping closer to better survey the yellow robot that’s causing Jack so much trouble. He’s never seen anything quite like it (nor heard the particular kind of...music? that came out of the device earlier, but “party” still seemed an accurate description to what he’d felt he encountered when the door opened), and regardless of whatever faults Jack seems to find with it, it seems a technical marvel to James.]

You made that? [There’s clear wonder in his tone. It’s obviously not something James knows how to construct. While he isn’t useless with his hands, he never quite picked up an interest in tinkering and inventing. Also, since it's new to the bunker and on Jack's work table, it obviously didn't come from Hyperion.

Catching Jack grab the cigarette from behind his ear, James reaches for his own lighter in his jacket pocket and holds it out to light Jack's cigarette for him.] What were you trying to make it do?

[refactor]

[ The fact that he reaches for a lighter actually surprises Jack a little, but he gives a nod of appreciation before lighting it up. He takes a long drag on it as James looks, though his irritation doesn't subside all that much. He looks at his creation with a bitter expression, as if this was truly some kind of terrible, sinful beast he had created with his own hands, but he at least nods. ]

Yeah— Used to work engineering back before, uh, Intake. Made more of the Company's new crap than they even like to acknowledge.

[ Which might be surprising, since for all of Jack's...everything, he doesn't exactly come off as a technical person, much less a technical person that's good at it, if his words are to be believed. He's definitely exaggerating a little, but he had been chief engineer on a project or two.

The question gets Jack to sigh, and he walks over to give the poor robot a half-hearted kick, though the clang just echoes. At least it's durable, whatever it is. ]

I, uh. Hadn't thought that part through completely. I dunno, open doors? I don't want it to do much, just was bored and this is what I came up with. So, y'know, thanks, self, you're a real asshole.

[ for once jack speaks a 100% truth ]

[lefthandfree]

[Engineering, huh? Well, that definitely explains Jack’s handiness. And the...contraption on his face that’s...well, his face but clearly not at the same time. James pockets his lighter and follows Jack’s gaze with a short hum of consideration. Sounds fun to be able to tinker and make shit do things, even if it’s whatever failure Jack takes the noisy machine for. There’s a lot of potential there, and all the more reason a renaissance type like James knows better than to take his acquaintanceship with Jack for granted.

Taking in Jack’s response regarding the purpose of the robot, he lets out a quiet laugh. While he’s never quite been in the exact situation, he can sympathize, remembering times when he’d planned for one thing and lost control of the situation partway through only to end up dealing with something else entirely. Usually when he's hanging around with Hawke.]

Maybe it’s just your conscience’s way of trying to get you to let loose and have a little more fun. [It’s a dry remark, though it’s offered as if it could be a real solution.] God knows we could use some more of that, what with you and John not really getting along so great.

[Which is his subtle way of asking, “Yeah, so what's the story there, pal?” but Jack doesn’t have to answer to that tangent of course if he’d rather steer clear of it. Or if he misses the cue. Whichever. James won’t die without the information, but he’s proverbially dying of curiosity.]

[refactor]

Oh- Oh, man—

[ Jack starts and breathes out through a laugh, since the comment catches him by surprise. It's not the first time someone has told him to let loose, sure, but considering the other time had been from Hawke... He didn't exactly put much merit in the idea. She had a different standard of what being "unfun" was, and he has to wonder if it's maybe a Killjoy thing. Must be nice to not have to worry about getting yourself into shit, he figures. ]

Buddy, if you think I'm a stick in the mud, clearly we are not even well on our way to pals. Like, totally the opposite unless you have a crazy idea of what that means, just sayin'.

[ But he at least takes it in stride easily all the same. He's smiling as he leans over to drag the robot off to the side, and he speaks through his teeth with how he bites down to keep the cigarette between his lips. ]

And don't go asking that dickface his idea of it. Guy's an asshole. Would totally kill him given the chance, and I'm tellin' you that because, uh, probably obvious? Hate that guy.

[ Though he doesn't elaborate on why as he pulls Claptrap off to the side. If it weren't so personal, he'd gladly explain, but having to explain the connection to his grandmother was something that left him more than a little uncomfortable. So instead, he deflects. ]

Like to the point that whoever put us all together? Gotta be laughin' their ass off. Don't think it's super subtle, so they had to know.

[lefthandfree]

[He laughs easily at Jack’s retort. He doesn’t think Jack is remotely uninteresting or boring by any means (the way the guy carries himself could be stories itself), but pointing out that he’d meant it more as a joke than anything else wasn’t really worth the effort when Jack wasn’t really making a stink of it. Words never capture the nuances of reality quite right anyway. Also, the way James’ eyes stay glued to the robot as Jack drags it off to the side should say plenty about how fascinating James finds robotics. It’s almost like he has some. Strange connection to the idea of mechanical engineering. Like maybe somewhere near his left shoulder.

On the matter of John, James honestly doesn’t know enough yet to form an opinion. There are fronts, and then there are fronts of fronts. Even James knows he’s completely different on a job and off duty (what he considers off duty, at least). From what he’d gathered of their initial meeting, it's hard for him to decipher what John is like as a person and not when he’s someone trying to get things done. Not that he’d turn down any insight or opinions, especially when offered so freely by Jack.]

Considering they knew our identities before passing them along to him, I can’t say I’d be surprised if they’d known. Barely anyone even knows that I'm in on this kind of work. [And the fact still unsettles him that he was somehow still found.] They did their research, whoever they are.

Regardless, I get the feeling the kid’s got something to prove. [He loses track momentarily of his train of thought when a feeling—a memory?—itches the back of his mind. He can’t place what exactly it is or why he suddenly feels it, but it only takes a moment before he’s back on track.] I mean, why else would he take this job if he knows he needs to work with you, and you both hate each other’s guts?