Chapter 4

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week VI, Day VII - Week IX, Day I
Summary: Chapter 4 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
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Ballroom Politics

Delle Seyah Kendry herself has sent a message to all with Qreshi citizenship. She calls them to a gathering of her own inception, a gala for the affluent few to spend a leisurely three days adrift in orbit. The invitation includes the ship's parameters, sure to comfort or entice any member of the nobility with expected and lavish accommodations, as well as a personal note of interest. It's been too long since everyone was together to discuss their pursuits, their thoughts, their projects… Invitations sent to: Crowley, Rhys, Sui Feng, Hanzo, Hanbei, & Royce On the surface, the event is a extravagant social soiree, but the undercurrent is clear. With the Peace Summit concluded, it's time to find an actual solution to the unrest in the streets. What house Kendry seeks is a move that benefits all members of the Nine, something that solidifies their position and ensures more years of prosperity. House Simms agrees, their pandering to the powerful Kendry family only intensifying. While there are some - perhaps land Hyponia - who disagree, their voices are hushed, few willing to lose life or estate for the common man. The cruiser hosting the event has three levels. The highest houses an opulently decorated hall, repurposed throughout the day for banquets, entertainment, and mingling. Only the finest food and hokk will be served, and those attending may also sample delicacies from the reaches of the J as they converse. As days drift into nights the lights will dim, long dining table replaced with smaller stands on which the elite can amuse themselves with the newest tech, including a gambling interface. The middle floor houses personal rooms, each containing a king sized bed with too many pillows, a walk in shower, a full kitchen, a stocked minibar, and a fully equipped entertainment room. Communication between rooms has been installed as full-scale holograms, and a mere voice command activates all tech within. The lower deck, housing the bridge of the ship and all workers’ quarters, is not advertised for visitation. Heirs and family heads alike will be in attendance, mingling through the ambling guests to speak with the most important, or the most concerning, individuals. Such a party would be woefully unenjoyable without proper security, and several warrants requesting RAC agent service have been placed. A high-paying position, any Killjoy who attends will need to dress formally and keep their gaze narrow. Some among the aristocracy may wish to speak with them - to ask for favors - but any conversations will be carried out with utmost secrecy. For the spaces warrants could not fill, Company enforcers have been summoned to bolster the event's protective forces. The higher within the Company, the less surreptitious one needs to be to chat with the Qreshi. However, having a distinguished Company pedigree doesn't guarantee any contact aside from being asked to dispose of something (or someone) for the good of the Nine.

The Company: Training Day

A divide has begun to form within Company ranks, and those at the top are loathe to see such cracks being driven into their foundation. Though the riots are growing more subdued, the lack of a 'unified' approach to street patrol has inspired action. Model Company officials will receive either a promotion or higher clearance for access to equipment. There is no mention of violence or brutality in the messages each receives to alert them of their bonus, the expectations of continued service acting as implicit reinforcement. Company officials who approached the malcontent populace with what have been officially labeled "high risk" methods - plainly stated, with mercy - will be notified of a different sort of reinforcement. Those who require acclimation training will be paired with an officer the Company can trust to exercise appropriately severe punishments, and sent to a volatile area. The location differs by assignment, but each has in common the hostility of its community. Spitting, jeering, and sudden attacks are to be expected by anyone wearing Company issued gear. All patrol, arrest, or recon missions in these areas will prove to be a battle against the Westie citizens who reside there. Not intending to lose members of their workforce, the Company does expect success and will not set any team up for deadly failure, but kindness on the part of any officers in the area will likely be met with suspicion or revulsion by the people, and possibly a report to upper by their partner. In a completely different sphere, officers who caused the Company figures of damage - or just a financial headache - will be assigned to stress training. The process is available to any employee, should they wish to opt in and kiss ass have something nice to put on their resume. A debriefing outlines that those participating in the training will board a vessel with a partner and be launched into orbit. The ship will have several interface and mechanical failures - all carefully monitored by the Company control below, of course - over the course of the simulation. Officers are required to land the ship despite these errors, and will be evaluated on their technique, teamwork, and attitude. Unbeknownst to all participants, the small ship will also contain three spider-type bots that will activate once in orbit and scatter over the framework of the vessel. They will trip alarms, project voices, and interface with the system to cut communication. The last any participant will hear from ground control is, "What's happening up there!?", an urgent final message sent before the true observation begins. Characters granted higher weapons clearance: Giovanni, Jack, Sui Feng, Hijikata, Hanzo, Juvia, Fenris Characters assigned acclimation training: Julius, Nyx, Shiro, Sion, Rhys Characters assigned stress training: Giovanni, Hijikata, Shiro Aside from the Company's inner workings, the world has not stopped spiraling deeper into chaos. Some enforcers may be requested as security at the Qreshi convocation, serving both abroad the actual pleasure ship and patrolling around it. Others may find their battle with the streets of Westerley dragging on as organized crime rises alongside the Resistance cells. Gangs threaten Company officials and average citizens alike, looting bars, sacking shops, and carrying out their own executions. Agree with the Company's blame of the Resistance, or see the gangs for the opportunists they are - either way, one thing is clear: The streets of Westerley are unsafe.

Westies: Karma Police

Cries for justice have distorted, shouts becoming incomprehensible as the dawn breaks on an otherwise calm Westerley morning. The riots that had become almost commonplace have dwindled, crowds thinning as the days drag on. Yet the violence that accompanied such frenzied backlash continues. It's not unusual to see a beaten and broken man lying motionless on the sidewalk as one makes their way throughout their day, bloodstains on the street coloring nearly every path through Old Town. The disenchanted have splintered. Some have returned to work, looking to keep their heads down and their necks safe from trouble. Some have taken a more subversive approach, fading into the shadows as the Resistance receives a new wave of sympathizers and participants. Some bask in the chaos, taking advantage of the upheaval to assert themselves, and their gangs, as a new authority on the street. Company enforcers remain pervasive, their patrols constant and their responses brutal, but they are no longer the only danger. Every abandoned safehouse, every street corner, and every back alley has become someone's territory. Lines drawn in the gravel are frequently contested, skirmishes between rival groups a common but insular backdrop to the violence teeming in the city. Though all gangs have different expectations, different eccentricities, they share a brash hatred for the Company. With growing frequency, establishments that serve Company officials will find themselves ransacked. Windows broken and goods stolen in the night, or the owner run out and beaten on the street, no venue can guarantee its safety without turning away those in Company attire. For some, even that is not enough. Speak too gently of the Company and one may find themselves labeled a sympathizer, subject to jeering or beating with little provocation. The question, How do you feel about the Company, asked by both enforcers and crime rings alike, is impossible to answer without earning at least one enemy.

Leith: Changing Winds

The winds of change howl across the Leithian landscape. The actions of the True Leithians have set events into motion that start to propel the usually relatively peaceful moon into the kind of unrest that's more common to its neighbors. As land reallocation continues, the upper classes of Leith start to resist the pull of charity. Where Leithians were content enough to provide aid to Westerley before, it's more difficult for that generosity to continue as their own coffers start to diminish. The relief efforts that the poorest of Westerley had relied on come nearly to a halt, because Leith is drawing away to protect themselves in the chaos. After all, chaos is starting to seep into Leith too. As donations slow, the Westerlen workers start to show their own unrest as their families and friends at home suffer for the slowed aid and the decreasing prospects of their own work. Leith's relationship with its Westie workers has always been tense, but it's never bubbled to the surface so much as this. The Resistance is quiet, but growing louder even on Leith. The market is often surrounded by workers striking, and Leith struggles to contain the protests. While a few unruly workers could be dealt with by a farm alone, hundreds of them forces those same farms to listen. Without their Westerlen labor, there's no one to tend to the farms and harvest the valuable crops that Leith provides to the Quad. The Leithian farmers may have to listen to the protests of their workers, but they wait, cutting off pay for those that refuse to work in a tactic to try and force them back to work. However, where some return to the farms reluctantly, it only makes the anger burn hotter for others. A massive field belonging to one of the biggest producers of Hokk in the Quad is torched, and the fire and smoke can be seen for miles. Ash falls on nearby towns like rain, and while the Qreshi fret over a shortage of their favorite Hokk, the people of Leith and Westerley both know that this is the start of something more dangerous on Leith. Rumor has it that the fires may have been started not by a Westie, but a rival Leithian, and with no one to conclusively blame, everyone bears the suspicion and distrust. Those disappearances that had effected only a select few associated with the True Leithians increase, but Leith itself doesn't complain too loudly. In the streets, Leithians seem oblivious or ignorant to what's coming, but they know. They only hope that so long as they pretend in public that everything is fine, maybe peace will return to their home.

Resistance: Power Vacuum

Hyperion becomes a whisper, a phantom looming in the background noise of discontent conversations and secrets kept. Some say it's a single person, a man of strong pedigree and polished cuticles, while others speak of a woman clothed in midnight black with a piercing stare that strikes through the heart of a man. Others yet suggest that it's not a person but many, a group of shadow puppeteers who offer direction.. but at what price? While rumors swirl and build into the myth of the Hyperion groups, rival factions rise to fill the empty spaces. For some, it's an ideological clash: whoever Hyperion is, they're too well-funded and connected to truly be of the people, too secretive and selective to warrant the trust of those who risk life and limb for sedition. For others--most, really--it's a matter of power hunger, groups forming and striking out to take control of the scattered members of the Resistance while the mysterious Hyperion remains an intangible figure. Unity, they say, in this time of division. They say it in town meetings and raids, in private conversations and public--albeit careful--demonstrations, using the cover of Westerley's rising gangs to cast shadow on their movements. As is often the case with politics, what they say and what they mean are quite different. While these different groups call for togetherness, they seek subordination and compliance to their respective ideas and goals going forward. Some call for violent uprisings, others aim for organized strikes and legislative pressure, and others still seek a peaceful but complete abolition of the current monarchy class. Each spreads their own propaganda in coded pamphlets and messages sent across the Meshwork, and though they agree on little, they are, indeed, unified on at least one common goal: The Nine must fall. In the meantime, though the focus of those outside of Hyperion's reach drifts, Hyperion teams continue to receive missions and intel, each cell working on a singular component for some great machination of change. Hyperion cites its compartmentalization as a means of protection--should one cell fall, the loss can be contained to those secrets and plans alone--but a closer look at each division's missions will offer a slightly more tarnished future than the one Hyperion claims to build. It's a war, even if the people on the streets don't realize they're fighting in it just yet, and in war... there are always acceptable losses. Collateral damage to be tallied and disregarded for the greater good. The Nine will fall, broken bone by broken bone.

The RAC: Level Grinding

As always, agents will have their hands full as the juggling jesters of the Quad's court, tasked with keeping the various factions served and satisfied with their contracted work. Between acting as guards for the Qreshi envoy, cleaning the streets of the detritus corpses left in the wake of the riots, and the monthly warrants, there's no shortage of work for the killjoy who's looking. And there's more killjoys than ever, at that. Following the lower level evaluations, a new score of Level 4 agents arrives on the scene, eligible--and potentially willing--to form new teams. With this advancement in rank comes new opportunities that span beyond the potential for awesome buddy-cop movies: higher level warrants that pay better and offer increased access to otherwise off-the-books missions. Will you band with your graduating class to knit powerful units and make your mark on the J star cluster? Or do you prefer to remain the lone wolf figure in this otherwise disparate organization? Maybe you have you sights set higher than that. Maybe you want to go for the top tier of the RAC and make yourself a Level 5. While it's generally thought that only those agents who have proven themselves as Level 4s are afforded the opportunity to advance, it's not strictly a requirement. Whether that fourth notch in your killing belt is fresh or well-worn, the Level 5 evaluations are open season, but not unfettered. Indeed, while any Level 4 is elgible to try their hand at the highest ranks, those who hold the most tenure will have a far easier curve to ascend than their less experienced counterparts. Competition will be fierce and the opportunity for advancement strictly regulated based on not mere skill, but psychological stability and past performances. Any mark left in the records of an agent can and will become leverage against them when they enter Level 5 evaluations. The evaluations, at least, are similar in construction to the lower-level missions, albeit with far greater danger. The evaluating agent must carry out a Level 5 warrant--with his or her team, if applicable--but rather than having the guidance of a senior agent to shape their path, they'll be monitored and observed with real time telemetry from RAC HQ. The results will thereafter be analyzed by the RAC's top brass and released for viewing in Chapter 5. With competition fierce and the test itself a life or death scenario, agents will need to utilize any advantage they can in order to come out ahead. Cultivating their contacts and gathering the necessary resources isn't just a strong recommendation for these killjoys but an implicit requirement for a successful promotion. That's not the only unspoken requirement. Whispers begin to circulate throughout HQ that certain palms have opened for greasing and can facilitate a smoother evaluation for the right price. Open discussion of the rumors is strictly prohibited and strongly punished, but for the cunning and sly.. ...any attempt to bribe those palms will be met with an automatic failure and subsequent investigation into the killjoy's past endeavors. Those individuals rumored to offer grace in exchange for joy are among the RAC's most loyal and stalwart class of senior agents, purposefully placing themselves within the public eye in order to draw out the rats of the organization. The warrant is all.

Comments

rhys doesn't want to acclimated with you

[rhygret]

Yeah...sure. No problem.

[ No thank-you I'd like to go home now, what did I do to deserve this I don't even know how to arrest someone let alone interrogate them?? That's the gist of what's going through Rhys's mind at this moment as he does follow Jack's gaze out over the prisoner area, a frown of distaste and uncertainty furrowing his brow--not because he objects to anything he sees, but because it's so uncleanand gross down there and he swears he can smell them from here. He doesn't want to get locked in an interrogation with one of them--that smell will seep right into his hair and then he'll have to wash for gods know how long to get it out.

And what makes it even worse is the fact that he actually has to wear an official Company Intake Officer uniform for this, to "get a real feel for the work we do" even though he is in no way qualified for this and really doesn't deserve it either?? This has to be payback for something, one of his relatives or someone with too much time on their hands in filing.

Rhys suspects it's Sui Feng. Anytime he gets a directive or assignment he doesn't like he assumes it's because of her. ]

We don't have to actually touch them do we? Can't we just...strap them to a table and zap them until they talk or--or whatever? [ That's how they do it in the movies...... ]

[refactor]

Well, first thing to note there, you have to sound more confident or they'll tear you apart. Maybe literally? We've had some casual cannibals come through, so, you know, stay away from hands and teeth. Generally a good idea.

[ Jack considers continuing to ramble, since he has a great story about face pizza, but... He decides against it. Rhys is probably rattled enough, and while Jack's instructions had said to really get anyone with the assignment more comfortable the the nasty, gritty parts of the work, that'd be better to do later. It'd suck if he turned and ran before they even got started.

Jack pushes away from where he'd leisurely been leaning, then waves for Rhys to follow as they start to head down stairs. He continues talking while they walk, but there's a laugh first. ]

I mean— If you can get 'em to talk without touching them, that's all good, but usually? Not that lucky. And no zappy tables. So get more creative than that.

[rhygret]

[ Probably best to save the face pizzas for later. Hurling before an interrogation when you're the one who's supposed to be leading it isn't really a great way to psyche yourself up. Or intimidate anyone.

So he follows, sighs in displeasure, and really wishes he could share Jack's enthusiasm about this on some level. I mean yes he likes ruining lives as much as the next Qreshi but he generally prefers to do it from afar? Where he doesn't have to actually see the nitty-gritty parts of it and gets to enjoy the aftermath instead.

He has a feeling that this is just going to an exercise in Jack taking pleasure in him messing this up somehow. Rhys is catty, not...intimidating. As much as he'd like to be. Whoever signed him up for this is going to find their life getting infinitely unpleasant later. ]

Greaaaat. [ Not great!! ] Do you guys have some sort of protocol down here for that, then? Some weird torture devices or something? Bamboo shoots under the nails, that sort of thing?

[ Bless you, Sean Ex Machinus film series. You will always be a font of inspiration and testosterone. ]

[refactor]

I mean, technically, supposed to go for info first. You wanna get someone to talk? Just drop a few deets about whoever they care about. Let 'em know that you know, and most of the time? That will get them to sing like a bird. Break a few bones and some people will still keep their mouths shut, but threaten to drag in their brother, grandma, kid for "obstruction"? They'll get to talkin'.

[ Jack shrugs casually, and as they reach the bottom of the stairs, he puts a hand on the Enforcer posted there's shoulder and nods towards the direction they're going. They might be back-up, or the idea of that might just be to fuck with Rhys. Maybe both, honestly. ]

That's why I'm well-connected, kiddo! By the time someone who's anyone comes into my block? I know aaaall about 'em. Makes life easier for everyone! Well, except for them, they're probably still going to end up having a real bad day, but, eh, whatever, not like these scumbags count for anything.

[ Jack looks back at Rhys as they walk, since that rambling was ultimately just that, and he makes that clear with what he adds at the end. ]

But I'm guessin' you don't know anything about this people. Whiiich is probably better, 'cause I'm feelin' the info route isn't going to be what the Company is looking for from this anyways. So! Rhys, Katherine, Katherine, Rhys— [ As he speaks, he nods between the Enforcer and Rhys in the way of introduction ] You don't look like a bone breaking kinda guy, so she's gonna help out. A little. Some things you can tag in for, some things I'm gonna say you need to do yourself.

[rhygret]

Well that's not foreboding. [ And that's definitely not a little bit sarcastic. But it really doesn't look like he's got a way out of this so he just pinches the bridge of his nose with his cybernetic hand, a gesture he only really realizes he's performed after because of his last conversation with Jack. Who probably has long forgotten it or doesn't care. ]

So we're just going to go in, rough them up and call it a day?

[ He would really like to call it a day after that. ]

[refactor]

Yeah, but with finesse.

[ He puts a stress on the word that comes with a laugh in his tone, almost as if it's a bit sarcastic too. But he seems to be enjoying himself a bit too much for it to be fully sarcasm too. He chuckles, then pauses at the door that separates the general yard from where the Intake workers roam, then taps the door showily as he leans against it. ]

But, first test here. You have to figure out which one of 'em has the Company data. Get creative! Because if I have to give you the answer, gonna have to note that in the report I send back to whoever the hell sent you down here. Got it?

[rhygret]

Right... [ That doesn't sound too hard? It's not like he doesn't have a cybernetic eye that can provide him with all the details The Company has on the individuals he's about to...interrogate? Rough up? Both?

He's totally got this. Definitely.

Gods it does not feel like he's got this. ]

For the record, I hate this moon. Just to get that out of the way.

[refactor]

[ Jack laughs, short but amused, then pushes off the door and starts to open it. ]

Yeah, yeah, heard it before. What if your guy isn't even from this moon though? Hah, that's- That'd be pretty ironic, right?

[ Once the door is open, Jack gives Rhys a clap on the shoulder as if for encouragement, but it may feel a bit mocking more than that... After all, while all of the people gathered look towards the pair of them with wary, definitely angry suspicion, Jack steps forward with a confidence and presence that makes it clear from how he speaks and stands alone that he's the one in charge. He has a natural swagger in moments like these that makes him seem almost larger than life, and almost ill-fitted to this kind of job. ]

Gooood morning, cupcakes! It's me, your best friend in the whole world, Handsome Jack. And- And, before I get the jeers, remember! Jeers are punishable by— Ahhhh, no, who am I kidding! I don't want to ruin the surprise. Ask your friends, bet they might give you a good idea. But anyways, you know why I'm your best friend? [ He laughs, waving his hand dismissively ] Don't answer, I'm getting to it, but that is because I am giving you assholes a chance to not end up in the deepest parts of the mines I can throw you into. Sounds good, right? All you gotta do—

[ He claps a hand on Rhys's shoulder here and leans closer for emphasis with a wolf's grin, but his attention is still on the prisoners, not Rhys. But with his words, it's Rhys's cue to take over. ]

—Is follow my friend here's instructions. Got it?

[rhygret]

[ This is it. This is his moment to impress upon these criminals the full fury of the Kendry Name and leave them trembling in his wake. He could own this room and everyone in it, hell maybe he could even impress Jack for once if only he...were anyone but Rhys.

He can muster confidence when he rightly shouldn't have any. He can bluff his way into sounding like he knows what he's talking about and come up with far-fetched plans that are considered all the way to every last over-complicated detail. But he honestly has no idea how to talk a bunch of people who are probably more psycho than Human^TM as far as he can see.

They're ratty, dirty, have very little left to lose if going to the mines is their only alternative here, and honestly if the Company didn't have anything they wanted from them then honestly he'd be happy to toss them all in regardless of whether or not they actually did anything. It's not like he cares what happens to a bunch of fugitives, and if they were really that worried about it they shouldn't have become criminals in the first place.

Okay. He can do this.

Probably.

So Rhys clears his throat, steps forward with a calm and confident smile he has no business wearing, and crosses his arms over his chest as if he has any clue at all about this entire situation. Technically Jack has the ultimate say when it comes to Intake Matters. Rhys's Company "job" isn't even the same jurisdiction. But if the point is to make these idiots talk then what's a bit of misconstruing some facts? ]

Thaaat's right. And I don't exactly have a lot of time to get on with the kiddie games so let's make this short and quick. One of you has some information we want, so we can do this one of two ways:

Option one has you giving yourself up and skipping a horrific death and making this easy for us and yourself. Consider it a get-out-of-jail free card, except in this case you don't choke on your own...ugh, melting lungs. Gross. [ Rhys falters just a bit there with a shake of his head as he makes a face, but he swallows back his gag reflex and continues. ]

Option two is for everyone else, because I mean, it'd kinda suck if you had to get stuck with a life sentence because of some other jerk right? So! Here's your side of the deal and, if I'm honest, this is like you only real shot here. First one to sell out the bad apple gets a one-way ticket to freedom. [ Rhys holds out his hands as if he's just made them the best offer any of them could hope to ask for. Because as far as he's concerned he has. ]

Pretty much only one of you is getting out of here as far as I'm concerned. So! Give yourself up, or give your friend up. And I am honestly really okay with either.

[ Does he have the power to pardon and spare anyone's life? No clue. Is he happy to say he does? Y u p. They're just bandits criminals. It's not like they matter, right? ]

[refactor]

[ It's a valiant attempt, and especially so for someone that doesn't do this for a living. Jack's expression doesn't change as he listens beyond a further quirk of his smile once Rhys gets started. To himself, Jack thinks that it's not bad, but lacking. Kind of reminds him of himself when he first started this gig, because how do you establish yourself as the baddest guy in the room when you're in a room full of scumbags? That's always the trick, because if these assholes smell one bit of weakness, they'll latch onto it without a doubt.

So they look suitably unimpressed when Rhys starts speaking, but there are a few smirks when he hesitates on the melting lungs. A handful look between each other, then sit back comfortably as if they're watching a show of their own while Rhys goes through the motions of his explanation. The promise of freedom catches everyone's attention, though, including Jack's. His expression still doesn't falter, but he does briefly glance at Rhys before turning back to their gathered prisoners.

Naturally, they have more thoughts on the matter. ]

Yeah? How we know you're going to keep your promise, Company boy? Not just throw us in the pit?

[ One of them speaks up, but there's a mocking, challenging tone to his voice. ]

[rhygret]

Now see, that just sounds like somebody who doesn't have anything valuable to offer. [ Rhys turns to the prisoner--a man--and makes a direct show of allowing his cybernetic eye to light up a bright blue as he scans the man and draws up his information. There's not a lot there that paints him as anything worthy of pardon, in fact just looking at his list of crimes makes Rhys want to banish him to the mines. Eugh. ]

Surja Fertz, 42. Wanted for murder, extortion, cannibalism, and...theft. No past or present ties to The Company beyond your arrest and it looks like you've been in isolation for most of your stay. [ His arms come up over his chest and cross as a look of wry mirth crosses his face. ]

So...yeah. You're pretty much useless to me. Mines it is! Katherine? [ That's to his muscle-helper since Rhys definitely wouldn't be able to physically overcome any of these guys. And no way he wants to get close enough to try, so. Rhys nods to her and figures she'll either remove him or cordon him off or...something. Something to get Mr. Fertz out of the way so Rhys can keep going as he claps his hands and looks back to the remaining prisoners. ]

Anyone else? I mean, you guys can keep asking questions and I can just scan you to find out what I want on my own. Your choice.

[refactor]

[ The looks of confusion as Rhys's eye lights up are mixed, but present. Some of them have no idea what he's doing, but there's a handful that at least recognize the eye for what it is. Though even so, there are a few confused glances exchanged, since it strikes them as a bit unusual. At least that's quickly gone when Rhys starts talking, or more accurately, explaining Fertz's crimes. It shuts him up quickly, and at least one person makes an impressed (but mocking) noise. Fertz isn't quite so happy, though, since the threat of going deeper into the mines than he already was is enough to strike some fear into his heart. ]

That's— You can't do that, asshole!

[ And even Kathertine seems hesitant, and she looks to Jack for more guidance. He continues watching, and his gaze is rather intensely focused on Rhys over anyone else, but he sees her looking to him for direction and he nods. It's enough for her, so she starts to approach with her gun drawn to encourage Fertz to back away. He doesn't seem to be thrilled by the prospect, though. ]

Son of a bitch! Ain't no one here got that kind of info!

[ But whether that's true or not is still something to be discovered. Katherine's hesitation wasn't much, but still just enough that he's feeling emboldened enough to take his chances. He lunges for Rhys, but at least Katherine will be there quickly to come pry him off. Probably. It depends on what Rhys does in response. ]

[rhygret]

[ Well...crap, that's less than ideal. As in Rhys is not at all prepared for that and actually makes a fairly unnerved-slash-panicked sound when he finds himself grabbed by an angry cannibal-convict with very little left to lose. So typical startled-Rhys sound. As far as reacting properly to it all though it doesn't look like Rhys is capable of more than that for that precious half-second where the man actually gets his hands on him.

Gods he hopes Katherine gets this guy off him before he winds up shanked, that would really--

Flawless!

It's Jack's voice he....hears? Remembers? And it comes with the vague sound of clapping what Rhys can't help but get annoyed with. Of course this guy would take pleasure in all this. He wouldn't put it past jack to have picked this scenario entirely just to bust his chops,

--is time with feeling! Give him the ol' smack dab!

Man, time is really moving slow here isn't it? It's...kind of surreal, having all of this suddenly rush to him. Like he's watching the current events with something else painted over them. Jack's voice shouldn't be in his head like this, shouldn't feel so...close? Integrated? And there's this weird sense of not being fully in control as he brings his cybernetic arm up to punch the suddenly-bald-and-msk-wearing-psycho in front of him--

When Fertz gets his punch in and clocks Rhys right across the face because he took too long on his QTE there.

Katherine's got the man an instant later and Rhys of Land fucking Kendry winds up flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a bloody nose. ]

...Guh.