Futuristic Tyrannicide [Nacre]

[Yokai]

Metal screeched against floor tiling, the sound raising a litany of goosebumps across Eden's skin and setting her teeth on edge. Tentatively she perched herself on the seat, boots flat against the floor, and sleeve rolled up to her elbow as Lancaster fastened the arm brace around her dominant right arm. Once finished he turned to retrieve something else from the drawer, giving Eden enough time to roll her sleeve back down. The coveralls lived up to their namesake, the arm brace subtle and hidden beneath the gray material.

When Lancaster turned back it was to present her with another piece of equipment; an AimPiece. She took this hesitantly, weighing it in her palm as she glanced over the wires that'd be plugged into her arm brace. It was hard not to stare at the sheer technological marvels that were being given to her. Eden had always enjoyed the idea of metal based improvements -- though she evidently would, given her career choice -- but the price tag and the lifestyle implications of such advancements had kept her at bay in the past. Yet here she was; being geared up for a fight. Eden tried to argue with herself that she didn't have much of a choice.

Movement caught her gaze and molten eyes blinked furiously as she registered the ComBud in front of her. Swiftly her thought process snapped back to the present moment. Eden picked the little device out of Lancaster's palm with steady fingers, the AimPiece stored in her pocket for the time being, and followed his instructions. It felt strange putting something in her ear and the childish part of her brain wondered whether it'd get stuck.

 

[Lorsh]

Music

"Right, you're all set up," Lancaster tells you as he pulls open another drawer, taking out two small guns. He puts one in his coverall pocket, and presents the other to you, along with some ammunition.

You are given a StatArm(1) 'Semi-Pistol', along with three small metal magazines for it. The Semi-Pistol (semi being short for 'semiautomatic'), is a small-caliber, compact handgun that can fit inside most pockets. An older design, it is purely mechanical, and fires ballistic bullets as opposed to newer energy-based developments like railguns and pulse pistols. Due to its low cost and ease of production, it is used as a standard sidearm by constables, army soldiers (usually officers), and some Watchmen. It uses 12-round clips that are loaded with "LITE PISTOL"-grade ammunition.



He gives a quick overview of the weapon's function. "It has a safety on the side, make sure to keep it on when you're not firing, and keep your finger off the trigger. There's not much kick; your arm brace should practically eliminate the recoil. Anyway, most of the police don't have any real body armor, but it might still take a few shots to bring one down, since this thing just isn't all that powerful. When it comes to soldiers, their pads and helmets might end up blocking the bullets, so try to avoid getting into confrontations with them until you get something stronger."


Jent appears to have strapped on some augments and armed himself with a pistol as well, along with two other technicos from WR30, one male and one female. This brings the 'transport' party to about five people, including yourself and Lancaster. Five other employees from WR30 seem to be staying behind, and they've equipped various improvized tools with which to smash the terminals.

The unknown male technico has positioned himself over the drone, prepared to remove the tracker. The female technico seems to be getting ready to transfer it into a small, scannerlocked metal crate once that happens.

"Everybody ready?" Jent asks, pulling his orange coat back on and slipping his AimPiece into the button-up pocket after giving it a brief test. "Computer crew knows what to do. As for the transporters, we'll be taking our products and attempting to leave through the northeast exit. Do not draw attention to yourselves," he says. "Remember, alarms will be going off, but we should still have enough time to slip away."


(1) Ballistic weapons production company.

 

[Yokai]

"Thank you, sir." Eden mumbled, grateful for the other technico's assistance as she pocketed the pistol and the spare ammunition. Her attention froze for a moment at the phrasing of 'it might still take a few shots to bring one down'. An image of her shooting a police officer dead was briefly conjured to her mind and immediately ice-cold dread had already threaded itself through her veins. She attempted to chase it off. That was just the worst case scenario, right?

Mentally she repeated Lancaster's instructions over and over in a silent mantra, attempting to familiarise herself with the weapon that could end up safeguarding her life. Standing up she picked up the chair she'd used and moved it aside, not wanting to provoke that dreadful noise again.

It appeared that everyone was going through their last checks now and Eden retrieved her AimPiece, plugging in the necessary wires to her arm brace. She didn't want to be caught unaware or be forced to set up her equipment in the field. When she was finished the wires crept up the inside of her sleeve against her bare skin, then past her shoulder to where they were pinned in place by her bra strap. The AimPiece itself hung loose against her clavicle, still obscured from sight by the coveralls that she wore.

Distantly she did one last check; just to make sure that everything worked, was quick to retrieve, and -- most importantly -- was hidden from sight. But the motions felt far away. Eden tried not to feel sick as Jent pulled on his loyalist coat, the bright orange making her stomach churn.

Didn't this make her a traitor? A terrorist? She'd never be able to see her family again. She'd never come into work, never go through her normal daily routine. It was hard for her to tell whether that was a blessing or a curse. Though, the fact that she even considered the former option probably answered that question well enough. People weren't supposed to have doubts.

When Jent checked to see if they were ready she found herself unable to form the affirmative words. Instead Eden forced herself to nod, tongue like lead in her throat. She could be inconspicuous, she'd been doing that her whole life after all. And they still found you, whispered that awful sense of doubt in her mind.

 

[Lorsh]

After receiving similarly silent nods from the rest of his co-conspirators, Jent himself gave a nod to the technico that was perched over the drone. The man reached in and plucked out the small chip with a pair of pliers- and the simple action immediately sent off the workroom's alarms. Though Jent had explained this would happen, it still seems to startle everyone. It springs them into action, though.

Terminals are smashed. Glass flies and blood drizzles as the disgusting wetware is cudgeled ruthlessly by the employees. Separate alarms begin to sound off, warning of the damage to the computers. The drone has been placed in the crate. The two unnamed male and female technicos each grab an end of the metal box, carrying it out the workroom door. Jent waves you and Lancaster out, before falling in behind.

The hallways, thankfully, are mostly deserted of employees. A few MechNat security guards carrying batons and stun pistols rush past. However, they do not even stop to talk to Jent or the others. The possibility of the higher-ranking supervisor and his entourage actually being the perpetrators must not have entered their minds.


You and the others make it out of the northeast exit of the building without much issue. The cold air hits your face, and you immediately see two sets of concrete stairs that lead off the property. The stairs to the left lead to the parking lot, where the getaway vehicle is presumably located. The stairs to the right lead up to the main public street.



Unfortunately, a police car has already pulled up on the upper street, and two constables are making their way down the stairs, guns half-drawn. "Stop right there," one of them calls out.

The two unnamed technicos freeze like a mutant caught in the headlights of a train, nearly dropping the drone box. Jent fumbles with his gun and aimpiece, muttering in panic as he struggles to slap the tech on his face. Lancaster doesn't even don his aimpiece, simply raising his gun and shooting one of the cops. "Take them!" he hisses.

 

[Yokai]

When they entered the hallway all of Eden's attention, every single fibre of her being, was focused on the task of appearing as unassuming as possible. She'd tucked herself safely behind Jent and the bright, eyesore orange of his loyalist coat. Blank whiskey eyes were focused straight ahead as she attempted to exude a confidence that she didn't feel. When the guards rushed past she felt a subdued sense of pride at not having flinched, not even glanced in their direction, before their ragtag group was stepping outside of MechNat's walls.

The cold air was a sharp wake up call to her numbed senses, though the nerves in Eden's stomach continued to roll over and over. Strangely enough it helped to mentally repeat Lancaster's advice to her. The stalwart man had reminded her of her solider of a father after all. It gave her something to focus on and provided a little clarity to the haze of what she was actually doing. Something that proved to be instrumental in what happened next.

The order of the policeman actually had her briefly freezing in her tracks, though her gaze was still straight ahead -- fixed on Jent. He reached for his AimPiece and she found herself doing the same. It didn't take much time, even with her fumbling fingers, for Eden to reach into the collar of her coveralls and retrieve the AimPiece. The piece of equipment was barely strapped over her right eye before she'd flicked off the safety on her pistol having pulled it from her pocket. Lancaster's hiss had her gun pointed, immediately centered on the nearest guard's chest.

In her panic she'd forgotten what Lancaster had said about armor and whether these people would be wearing bullet proof padding or not. Eden settled for squeezing the trigger multiple times, firing off a series of bullets with that same numbed sense of desperation. She figured that no matter what he'd said more bullets was the better choice.

Quietly she wished the action had been more instinctive than it had been, and not so calculating or premeditated. It felt like murder.

 

[Lorsh]

There had been some hesitancy in the actions of the constables; perhaps they thought you had all been reading for your IDs, when in reality you were pulling out the targeting devices and guns. When one of the policemen is shot down by Lancaster, his partner is surprisingly quick to react, however. He quickly brings his pistol up in a two-handed grip, and bullets are sent flying towards the group.

One of the box carriers- the male technico whose name you never learned- ends up catching one in the side of the neck. Though the round only came from a small pistol, the ruptured veins send forth a very large spurt of blood. You're not sure if the employee had been MedJacked, but it doesn't seem to be helping him as he crumples to his knees and bleeds out.

By this time, you're already firing. Your arm moves independently of your body as the brace alters your firing stance and absorbs the recoil of the shots, which find their mark on the constable's chest. He teeters slightly before tumbling down the concrete stairs.



Lancaster finishes him off with a bullet to the head, as the low caliber hadn't been enough to kill him outright. Jent was knelt down next to the fallen technico, his hands feebly clasped over the squirting wound as blood oozed from his fingers. "God... goddamn it!" he cried.

"He's done, Jent- just get the box!" Lancaster ordered. The supervisor quickly fell into the man's old position, helping the female technico who was struggling with the drone's weight. When she's relieved, they quickly start to rush up the stairs to the right. Lancaster tugs on your arm, beginning to take the lead with his pistol raised in case any more adversaries appeared, but for the moment the parking lot ahead looked clear.

 

[Yokai]

The bullets found their mark and Eden watched as the constable crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut; his body sent sprawling down the concrete staircase. He was still alive but bleeding out in what would undoubtedly be a slow and painful death, and yet she couldn't move towards him, she could only stare in rapt horror as he bled out. She asked herself; what was worse? Ending someone's life purposefully and becoming a murderer or being too much of a coward to give them a merciful death? Lancaster answered that question for her with a single bullet through the constable's skull before he moved swiftly on, picking up the pieces of their fractured operation.

Rather belatedly, Eden recognised that one of their own -- and when had it become that; us and them? -- had gotten shot. Blood spurting out of his neck and seeping through the fingers of Jent's hand as he attempted to apply pressure to the wound. She didn't know the man's name, hadn't gotten a good look at his face, even now she could only focus on the blood rather than the actual man. Another awful thing to be thankful for, it seemed that she was collecting those at an unprecedented rate.

Eden knew basic first aid, she had picked up a few tricks of the trade from her older sister, but nothing that could help with this kind of wound. Paper cuts, food poisoning, how to assess and emergency response site; none of that was much use now. She felt strangely useless.

Lancaster's hand on her arm, pulling her away from the sight of the other technico, broke the young woman from her thoughts and she followed after him thoughtlessly. Glancing behind them twice to check on the abandoned man before finally keeping her gaze straight ahead and stalwart. Eden had killed someone today. Not just someone either, a constable. A man of the law, a man who could have easily have been her father or brother had they taken a different route of life. She'd also seen somebody get killed, a stranger whom she'd never spoken a word to and whom she was supposedly sided with. It was overwhelming and the bile churning in the pit of her stomach didn't help matters.

All she could really do was raise her gun, double check that she was actually prepared this time, and push her fears to the side. Hoping that she survived Eden decided that she would have a long, therapeutic breakdown later. Much later.

 

[Lorsh]

The drone crate is quickly hauled up the steps, with Lancaster keeping watch. Slight whirrs can be heard as his AimPiece zooms in and out as he looks around, gun kept at a readied stance. Thankfully, it seems that the duo of constables were just a random patrol, and not part of the main response force.

At this point, loud alarms can be heard going off from within the entirety of the MechNat offices. A disembodied voice is heard over the company intercom.

"𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗘𝗘𝗦, 𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧.
𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗟 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗔𝗕𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗔𝗪 𝗘𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧.
𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗡 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦."

Jent and his assistant are moving quickly. They're nearly out of breath, but don't appear to be slowing down at all. The van comes into view, and the group reaches it in less than a minute. Jent and his assistant painstakingly lift the drone crate into the van after Lancaster throws open the back doors.



"We've got it," Jent says, stepping back and taking a deep breath. "Lan, you drive. I'll-"



Jent and his assistant start to walk towards the front of the van, but are shot multiple times by two constables that seemingly materialize from behind a parked company truck. Jent is struck by bullets in several parts of his body, including the head, and is killed instantly. The unknown female employee appears to suffer a similar fate.

Whatever Jent's goals and aspirations were, it seems that two police goons were able to thwart it all by simply hiding behind a truck for a few minutes.




Your AimPiece starts drawing cursors on the two constables, a man and a woman. They appear to be carrying submachine guns.



​

 

[Yokai]

The final leg of their journey appeared to stretch on indefinitely as Eden’s paranoia ricocheted up those final few notches, leaving her easily spooked by the slightest of sounds and more than a little twitchy. Some of that all-encompassing fear dampened to a low buzz when the parked van came into view, the line of her shoulders relaxing minutely as the blonde lowered her gun to the asphalt. Even the shrill blare of the sirens and the guilt-inducing warnings became background noise when she stood to watch over the exchange; whiskey eyes flickering nervously over the drone crate as it was loaded into the back.

It seemed they were finally in the clear.

Alas, it seemed irony wouldn’t allow her any lucky breaks today. As if hailed by her thoughts a litany of gunfire filled the air and embedded themselves into the nearest, exposed bodies of Jent and the female technico. They appeared to die instantly and whatever instructions Jent had been about to issue died with him.

That left just her and Lancaster.

Immediately Eden’s gun was raised, the cursor of her AimPiece provided enough of a fool-proof guide that she pulled the trigger and fired off a round of shots -- at their faces this time -- in an attempt to not only kill them but to buy them enough time to get to cover. They have machine guns!? They really needed to get out of there. After all, that was the priority, right? Get this technology out of their hands and to people who could actually use it for something bigger, something better than her? All Eden really knew was that she wanted to live. That she wanted to survive, and if she didn’t shoot them then they’d kill her.

Surrender wasn’t really a word that was recognised, especially when applied to traitors.

 

[Lorsh]

Music

Turning away from Jent and his assistant, the two police officers start to reel in the direction of you and Lancaster, their guns raising. You see their faces, their eyes are wide and their teeth gritted. The female cop is biting her bottom lip as her finger moves towards the trigger. She briefly makes eye contact with you. She looks more excited than afraid, and the sides of her mouth might have even been raising into a smile. It's like this is all a game she's played before; she zapped Jent and now she's going to zap you.

You shoot first, though. Your bullet catches the female constable in the cheek, jerking her body awkwardly sideways. The second bullet implants itself in her temple. She's drooling blood and gushing from both nostrils, slumping over on the sidewalk with the two small holes in her head.

You feel something smack into your left shoulder, but it doesn't stagger you very much. But it's immediately very warm, painful, and then... ticklish. Something's taking the edge off. Still, your vision blurs briefly as you hear more shots. Lancaster is still standing, and you see the second constable collapse, his pool of blood merging with his partner's. Their two submachine guns lie on the ground. The sirens get louder.

"Eden," Lancaster says. He looks down... you've clearly been shot. "You're medjacked. You'll be fine. Get in the fekking(1) van."

(1) Minced oath.

 

[Yokai]

Killing someone at such close range was much, much worse than Eden could have ever expected. Or, perhaps, it was so much worse because she hadn’t thought to prepare herself for it -- she hadn’t thought the action through at all, in fact. She had merely panicked in the face of a dramatically shortened life expectancy and subsequently reacted to the threat; heart hammering against her rib-cage and pupils blown wide almost eclipsing the amber of her irises. At least, it helped to rationalise it like that.

When something sharp and hot slammed into her left shoulder -- hard enough to destabilise her centre of gravity -- Eden bit down hard on her bottom lip, attempting to smother the cry that threatened to claw its way up her throat. Then, as quick as the pain had appeared, it dissipated; numbed by the heady concoction that was shock and her newly installed medjack. That didn’t stop Eden’s eyes from watering nor did it stop her from instinctively reaching up to apply pressure to the wound.

She tried not to flinch under Lancaster’s gaze.

“Yes, sir,” Eden replied, trying not to wince at the sudden and haunting reminder that title gave her of her father. Instead, she immediately rounded the van and slipped into the passenger’s seat, her movements too-fast and clumsy with adrenaline. Lancaster’s cursory assessment of her wound would have bothered her in a normal setting. As it was, the casualness of the gesture actually managed to quiet the blaring voice at the back of her mind screaming that she was going to die there, a traitor and a murderer.

She wanted to ask if he knew where they were going -- hopefully they didn't need Jent for the directions since he was... Eden stopped that thought. Another thing she wanted was to check her shoulder for an exit wound. Unfortunately, Eden could only really focus on one thing at a time right now, her vision tunnelled, and that current thing was getting into the van and making sure she still had bullets in her gun.

 

[Lorsh]

Your wound has already slowed its bleeding significantly. Feeling around, you feel some ripped flesh in the back of your shoulder, suggesting the submachine gun round managed to pass through. The wound continues to tickle and sting as the small mechanisms slowly repair the flesh.

Your AimPiece has apparently already identified the weapon in your hand, and has been counting the shots you've been firing. On the display in the corner of your eye, can see that there are four rounds left, out of a magazine capacity of twelve. Two-thirds empty.

[̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅A̲̲̅̅i̲̲̅̅m̲̲̅̅-̲̲̅̅Piece ̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅]
[̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅A̲̲̅̅M̲̲̅̅M̲̲̅̅U̲̲̅̅N̲̲̅̅I̲̲̅̅T̲̲̅̅I̲̲̅̅O̲̲̅̅N̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅:̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅4̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅/̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅1̲̲̅̅2̲̲̅̅ ̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅|̲̲̅̅]

Lancaster starts the van and pulls out of the parking lot, picking up speed as a few MechNat security guards appear from one of the emergency exits, and they briefly give chase on foot, waving their small batons. "Goddamn it," murmurs Lancaster. A foot constable briefly appears at the end of the parking lot, holding his puny pistol in both hands as he fires at the heavy van speeding towards him. The bullets punch into the windows and make big cracks, but the glass must have been mostly bulletproof. The policeman has enough sense to jump out of the way when it becomes clear that Lancaster isn't going to stop.

The van pulls onto the sparsely-trafficked street as Lancaster puts the pedal to the metal, slowing down as he enters a series of Outer Hub alleyways. "We should be in the clear," he huffs, staying away from the main roads. "At least until they get hovercrafts up." As he drives, his adrenaline lowers slightly, and he seems to process the prior events more fully. "... goddamn it. A few random police show up and already more than half of us are dead." He exhales. "You handled herself fine back there... just hang tight. We're switching vehicles, so get ready to lug that drone. I know your shoulder hurts," he tells you as he turns into a concrete parkade.

 

[Yokai]

Once they were finally on the road the back of Eden’s skull thumped softly against the van seat headrest, eyes half-lidded as she stared through the cracked windscreen and attempted to wrestle her thoughts back under control. Their escape had been messy with MechNat security guards and another constable having witnessed their departure. Eden figured it wouldn’t be long before they gave chase. Still, on the bright side, they were currently alive, armed, and in possession of the drone.

That had to count for something.

Forcing herself to breathe she focused herself on easing the nausea that had coiled itself up in the pit of her stomach like a snake. Gaze set dead ahead as she listened to Lancaster’s voice as he summarised the situation, resisting the urge to run her bloodied hand down her face. The pain from the bullet, though numbed, still made her too nervous to move her other arm. Lifting the drone was definitely going to hurt. But, at least they’d be changing vehicles -- the cracked windscreen and the fact they’d been identified in this van definitely wasn’t helping their supposed getaway plan.

“Okay,” Eden breathed, sitting up straighter in her seat when they rounded onto the parkade. “Okay,” She repeated, nodding this time. “I think I can do that, my shoulder will be able to deal with it for now.” It’ll have to. Carefully she tested moving it with a scrunched up expression, completely going against her baser instincts that told her to be ginger and cautious with the wound. “Is this the only vehicle change?” She checked, slanting a glance in Lancaster’s direction -- she hadn’t even asked if he was injured.

 

[Lorsh]

"Yes," Lancaster says. "It's just this one. We don't have many automobiles to spare," Lancaster tells you as he pulls into a parking spot adjacent to a small pod-car. It seems Lancaster got to the parkade at an opportune time, as the whirr of hovercrafts is faintly heard after he turns off the van's ignition. The authorities are doing aerial surveillance now, no doubt.



Lancaster hops out of the van, and gives a precursory glance around the parkade before moving towards the back doors. He throws them open, and with your pained assistance, he shifts the drone into the small back compartment of the podcar. It only barely fits.

"Get in," Lancaster tells you. Once you're in, he pulls out of the parkade. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to drive slowly and inconspicuously now that the heat was off of him. The radio buzzes.

**𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄**

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑫𝑼𝑨𝑳𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑬, 𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑴𝑬𝑪𝑯-𝑵𝑨𝑻 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑵 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑨𝑵𝒀 𝑽𝑨𝑵. 𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝒀 𝑺𝑼𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑺𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑼𝑳𝑨𝑹𝒀. 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑶 𝑳𝑶𝒀𝑨𝑳𝑻𝒀 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵. 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑼𝑴𝑵 𝑨𝑳𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑺.

 

[Yokai]

Renewed tension threaded itself across the blonde’s shoulders as they pulled into the parkade, the noise of the hovercrafts drifting overhead and reigniting the anxiety burning in her stomach. They’d have to move quickly to avoid the detection of the authorities. Opening the passenger door Eden slipped out, following Lancaster around to the back as she tentatively tested her arm again. Her nose scrunched against the dull ache but discovered that it was nowhere near as bad as she’d been expecting. As he opened the back doors she distantly thought that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad?

She was wrong.

One pained whimper and silence through gritted teeth later, the drone had been hurriedly loaded -- just barely -- into their second and final vehicle. Lancaster slides into the driver’s seat again, telling her to follow suit. And he doesn’t have to tell her twice. At least this one wasn’t as conspicuous with a distinct lack of cracked windscreens and no automobile profiling. When he pulled out of the parkade she sank back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut against the renewed pain in her arm. It was hard to pretend like everything was fine when she realised that the pain was from a literal bullet passing through her shoulder. The buzz of the radio certainly doesn’t help.

“How long till we’re in the clear?” Eden asked, licking her lips and finding her mouth strangely dry. At least she felt comfortable talking and asking questions now. Before she’d been worried that this was a trap, that she’d been horribly roped into an insidious plot to root out the traitors in MechNat. Now, that seemed a lot less likely and like a lot more effort than it was really worth. She also had no idea what to expect from this… traitor group. Was this her recruitment? Were they just going to accept her as a member despite the fact she’d only joined to save her own life?

Because, in reality, while Eden didn’t like the Autumn Party or how things were run around here. She’d have never actively joined the rebellion unless forced to choose between treason and death.

 

[Lorsh]

"We're never in the clear," Lancaster murmurs. "Don't be like Jent. Don't let your guard down. Even when you think you're somewhere safe, know that the Watchmen could be there," he warns. "Even if we get this fekking drone out of the picture, they can still find ways to keep their eyes on you." He works the steering wheel as he takes a deep breath, seeming to calm down a little. Though, it was hard to argue that he wasn't justified in being paranoid. "Just... well, be wary." He finally seemed to wipe the sweat from his wrinkled brow.

Lancaster remains relatively silent for the rest of the trip. He takes the car through a secluded route, avoiding areas where there were likely to be police or military checkpoints. He leaves the Outer Hub, and based on a few signs and buildings that you pass by, he takes the car to the western end of the Industrial Quadrant.



It's much less pretty than the Outer Hub, which they at least tried to make palatable with colorful propaganda banners, clean concrete and artificial grass turf. The industrial sector is a morass of dilapidated buildings, refineries, power stations, and manufactories. In contrast to the Heavy Industry Zone, a lot of the infrastructure is relatively outdated, with many of these factories having existed here before the Autumn Party even came it be. Security seems a bit tighter, with beat cops mostly being replaced by static army machine gun emplacements and antiaircraft battery stations. Though the podcar stands out as one of the few non-industrial vehicles, stopping random cars thankfully seems to be above the pay grade of the soldiers, as they likely assume it's being driven by a CEO of some kind.


Lancaster eventually pulls into a small parkade, next to a seemingly abandoned factory. He turns off the podcar and gives a glance around the area. Outside the parkade, all that can be seen is dead trees, busted pipes, cracked asphalt, and a few oldworld cars. He clears his throat, before cranking the window down and giving a thumbs-up.

A haggard-looking woman in a brown industrial jumpsuit steps into view. "Only two of you?" she asked. "Where's Jent?" She looks in the back window at the crate, seeming satisfied by the presence of the prototype drone, at least.

"Dead. Police zapped him and the others. It's just her and I," he tells her bluntly, before turning his head to look at you. "This is Eden Holliday. She's more... last minute help. You might have to induct her properly. I trust her though. She's already spilled orange blood, if that means anything."

"Constables and low-ranking soldiers are expendable to deep cover Watchmen," the jumpsuited woman reminds him. She smiles at you with yellowed teeth. "Not saying you are one, sweetling."

Lancaster shrugs. "Jent ran his fancy scan on her a bunch of times. She's good."

The woman nodded. "I suppose if you trust her, Lan, then she should be fine."

 

[Yokai]

Tired, whiskey eyes stared out the podcar window as they drove through the unfamiliar streets of the Industrial Quadrant, Lancaster's words of warning still bouncing off the walls in her head. Outside looked to be in a much rougher, more dilapidated state than that of the city Eden was used to and it made her stomach churn with growing anxiety. It was unnerving to contemplate that she'd woken up that morning thinking that it was going to be another bland and colourless day. And had it only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago now.

When Lancaster finally pulled into another parkade Eden sat up straight in her seat, filled with sudden and alert attention. Her gaze swept over the barren environment warily, unsure of what they were waiting for and only growing more nervous when he rolled down the window without a word. Apparently him giving a thumbs up was the Signal because a strange woman materialised out of thin air only a moment later. From the way that she mentioned Jent, and instantly knew to check the back for the drone, Eden guessed she was with the Rebellion too.

Silently the blond listened as they spoke, offering a tentative smile when the attention was drawn onto her. Last minute was an understatement, but the way that Lancaster vouched for her credibility was... strangely nice. She got the impression that he was a hard man to please.

When the unfamiliar woman suggested that she could be an undercover Watchmen Eden's tight expression wobbled, the corners of her lips tugged down in an instinctive frown. Then, when she smiled and apologised -- and Eden's tired mind couldn't figure out whether the apology was genuine or not -- she just nodded once. Brushing it off with an easy acceptance that she didn't feel at all. Her hand came up to instinctively touch where she'd been shot. It was kind of ironic, really. Eden had never joined the military or security side of things because she hated the violence. Look where she was now.

Her family must hate her. And for what? A chance for a better future?

Unwilling to make any statements about her loyalty; just in case she said something damning and they decided to go against Lancaster's recommendation and killed her on suspicion anyway. Eden tried to change the subject. Her gaze was slowly drawn back to the drone and a question began to form in her mind, one that only made her frown deepen. Licking her dry lips she spoke up quietly, "This drone is supposed to find people who don't... conform, right?" That was how they'd found her after all. "With Jent and his team gone, do you have anyone who can actually use it?" Because that was probably important and right now Eden struggled to view Lancaster as a technico at all, he seemed too military.

 

[Lorsh]

"In a nutshell, yes," the woman says. "I'm guessing they'd have them fly around at public ceremonies and such. It'd look at different people, scannin' them... maybe it would look for things like, if someone winced when they showed a video of muties getting wasted... or if it detected a little cringe of disgust when someone was listening to an Autumn Party propaganda speech. Things like that. Afterward, the Watchmen or the Constables would probably arrest whoever the drone detected."

She lets out a sigh when you mention the absence of Jent, explaining somberly. "Jent and his colleagues were supposed to help reprogram some aspects of the drone. Lancaster here is an implant specialist, so he's... uh, not very useful in this record. Sorry Lan." He only shrugged in response. The woman continues. "We'll try to find some other technicos to do it, but if we can't, we'll probably just destroy the thing," the woman shrugs. "Ideally, we can retain it, and use it as a lie detector of sorts. Make sure there's no Watchmen slinking around in our ranks. But it's a prototype, so we'll need to start working on it a bit more before we do that. I don't want it glitching off and giving incorrect readings."


Lan glanced over his shoulder. "Let's stop talking out here in the open," he says at he gets out of the car. The woman nods, and whistles. Two men in industrial jumpsuits emerge from a patch of darkness in the parkade. They grab hold of the drone crate, and the woman begins to lead the way with Lancaster following behind. She moves away some pieces sheet metal that were leaning on the wall, revealing a passageway of sorts.

 

[Yokai]

That was a surprisingly straight-forward outlook on the drone’s capabilities. Eden could appreciate that while also remaining more than a little nervous about it. Having a piece of technology that could simultaneously analyse the micro-expressions of multitudes of people was dangerous, especially in the hands of their reigning government. Then again, when she really thought about it, Eden wasn’t sure how much she felt about the Rebellion having access to that level of technology either. They’d recruited her, after all. And while she wasn’t particularly happy or satisfied with her life or the current government, she hadn’t been itching to join the Rebellion either.

The mention that the role of Jent and his team had been a vital one wasn’t all that shocking, just unfortunate. Whilst Eden hadn’t been assigned to the drone, and wasn’t personally involved in its case, she really hoped they wouldn’t have to destroy it. Lives had been lost getting it here, after all. Those lives had to mean something. Not to mention that it was a brilliant piece of machinery; for a mere prototype it showed incredible promise. Even if it was reprogrammed to become a lie detector, instead of picking ‘non-believers’ from the crowd, it would still be useful to the Rebellion’s regime. Paranoia must be a constant in their lives at this point.

As if confirming this line of thought Lancaster glanced over his shoulder, ready to move the conversation somewhere safer.

“Ah, I see.” Eden muttered noncommittally, brows puckered in deep thought as the conversation was closed off. Following the woman’s sharp whistle two figures materialised from the shadows, immediately moving to unload the drone from the back of the podcar. Eden takes this moment to step outside of the car, gingerly testing the movement in her arm as she circles around the front to trail after Lancaster and the unfamiliar woman. When said woman moves a few sheets of metal from an exterior wall, Eden feels her frown deepen. She’s beginning to feel even more out of her depth by the second.

As they pause briefly, Eden attempting to move aside to let the two men carrying the drone pass by, she speaks up again in a quieter voice. “Did Jent’s team really not salvage any of their data on the prototype?” Whiskey eyes follow said device, normally full lips pressed together in a tight but grim line. “Surely the base design would be similar to what MechNat already had in circulation.” Eden scrunched up her nose and then released the thought quickly. Logically she was a qualified technico but that was more due to the fact that she enjoyed fixing things, taking things apart and putting them back together again, this was the deep-end when she was used to paddling about in the shallows.

 

[Lorsh]

Jent had indeed managed to stash away the files on the prototype. Thankfully they weren't being kept on his person; he opted to put them in the drone case. The prototype drone is very similar to standard MechNat technics in terms of outward appearance and locomotion, but the most valuable code lied within the facial expression recognition algorithms, which was far more sophisticated. You are taken inside the station and given a chance to wash up, eat food, and rest.



Several months pass within the Connection's underground station. The drone has been safely locked away for now. A few days after the incident, the newspaper published a story that praised the Constabulary for killing eight traitors in the MechNat Activities Office, while mourning the losses of four officers. A BOL (be-on-lookout) notice was placed on your name, as well as Lancaster's. Obviously, the authorities had access to MechNat's employee records. The BOL did not mention specifics on whether you and Lan were suspected to be perpetrators, or simply kidnapped.

You found out that one of the station's rebels, Melody, is acquainted with your former roommate, Tani Raybles. Though Ray was unaware of Melody's rebel connections, they had kept regular contact. Within the first month, you found out from Melody that a notice from the Army Graves Register was delivered to Ray's residence, which revealed that your father (Lieutenant Deacon Holliday) and brother (Sub-Corporal Anton Holliday) were killed on the Subterran Front(1). Melody doesn't offer speculation on what happened, all you know is that your father and brother were supposed to be posted away from the front lines.

A few days later, Ray stopped receiving your mail, likely due to the Civic Integrity Index finally being updated to include you as either "missing" or as "traitor". Shortly after that, Melody reported that Ray simply dropped off the face of the earth.


You have had a few months to recover from this news. Though you were initially treated with suspicion, the rebels and staff inside the station have been supportive. You were assigned as a general technico, helping with day-to-day maintenance of the station's systems. Lancaster occasionally visited you and offered lessons on firearms safety and target practice.

One day, the haggard woman, a guard whom you have come to know as Terma, approaches you in the Station Mess during lunch. "Holliday," she says. "Do you still have those implants and such in you? The, uh... chiefs, they're interested to see if you might want to do an assignment outside the station."


(1) Subterra is an enemy nation of "troglodytes", posthumans descended from underground cities established after Ashfall.

 

[Yokai]

News of her family members’ deaths came as an unexpected shock to Eden in her early days within the Connection’s station. Grief followed her around like a black cloud for those first few months as she attempted to throw herself into her new role within the rebellion, a distraction from the questions that churned over and over in the pit of her stomach. Eden couldn’t help but wonder whether her decision to align herself with the rebel forces had influenced the circumstances in which they’d died. It seemed too coincidental that, barely a month after she’d disappeared, her brother and father had met their end on the front lines -- a place they should have never been stationed.

It felt like a threat. And not for the first time Eden wondered how her mother and siblings were dealing with the news. A missing, possibly traitorous, sister and a deceased father and brother.

Terma’s ragged voice jolted the young woman from her thoughts and she glanced up, whiskey eyes an entire shade darker than normal, from the food she’d been pushing around her plate. It had taken a few months but Eden had managed to recover from her own numb version of grief; however, she still struggled to maintain an appetite. The Connection had been supportive during her troubled period, but they were still distant and sometimes Eden swore she could feel the suspicion in their gazes. Tension and paranoia normally kept her from the Mess Hall.

“Terma,” Eden returned in greeting, her hand stilled around her fork. “Yeah, I still got ‘em.” She nodded, lips pursed at the idea of stepping outside the safety of the station’s walls. Paranoia asked her whether they’d question her loyalty if she said ‘no’ -- Eden found herself in quiet agreement with the voice. “Did they say what kind of assignment it was?” She asked instead.

 

[Lorsh]

Terma nodded. "Yeah, they briefed me on it. It's just you, me, and uh... that chemfolk(1) guy named Lian," she explains. You remember seeing Lian around the base, usually keeping watch outside meeting rooms and such. He's shy, young, generally Orthodox in appearance aside from his face being covered in greenish boils.

"It's an excursion into the Gloom, outside of city limits. More of a pick-up mission than a rescue mission. There's this cybie(2) chick stuck in a life capsule somewhere out in the wasteland, probably embedded in the ground or something. She got ejected when Karter Station got raided by the Watch, and apparently our higherups picked up her signal. Reb cybies are pretty useful apparently, so they're sending our butts out there to get her," she shrugged.

"Obviously, going out into the Gloom is dangerous, but since we're close to the city, it's generally pretty clear. You have to worry about the Army patrolling out there more so than mutants, honestly- and it's easy to avoid them for the most part. I'm assuming you haven't seen many mutants before? And I mean actual beastie mutants, not chemfolk."

(1) A nicer word for mutie.

(2) The Autumn Party hates "cybies" almost as much as they hate muties. At some point, they expanded their definition of subhumanism to include people with cybernetics or augmented body parts. Apparently there is some disagreement between upper level officials on whether this should include implants- but the general consensus seems to be that they will permit implants for military purposes, hence MechNat's existence.

 

[Yokai]

That was another thing that had changed since Eden had been recruited. Her views on the Unorthodox now failed to align neatly with the Autumn Party's policies and politics. She would be lying if she said that there wasn't a small part of her that was still distinctly uncomfortable around them but, for the most part, she found herself easing up. They were sentient beings and deserved to be treated with respect; even if some of them caused her discomfort. After all, as she was slowly being to understand, it wasn't their fault that they weren't normal.

"Uhm, yeah," Eden replied eloquently to her question, her brain still processing the fact that this was a pick-up mission for a stranded 'cybie'. "Don't think I've ever seen one. I mostly tried to avoid the fighting, I'm better versed with tech which usually kept me in the city limits." It was kind of ironic how avoiding the fighting had landed her right in the middle of it. Eden stared down at her food with a frown, then forced herself to take another bite. Even if her appetite was gone she still needed to eat to survive.

"Why? What are they like?" She asked once she'd swallowed, levelling Terma with a look of genuine curiosity. The muties -- erm, chemfolk, she was still working on the correct terminology -- she'd seen so far weren't too bad. How different could these mutants be?

 

[Lorsh]

"Depends, there's different kinds," Terma grinned. She looked like she was prepared to take amusement in your reactions to her descriptions...

"So, there's 'scrap scuttlers'. They're like... mutie larvae, basically squishy bugs that use this weird silk to attach metal trash to themselves as a shell, and they're as big as a dog. When they grow up, they can get as big as an automobile, so pay attention if you see junk moving for no reason." She tapped on her head, before listing off another species. "Moon bugs are big, glowing beetles that you can break open and get jelly from, and they sometimes get into the city. You've probably seen them at night if you've ever stayed over at the Working Class Quadrant. Also... sometimes, you'll see plants and weeds in the Gloom. Usually, they're not safe, so don't touch them. Especially don't walk over to any big fields of grass, it will kill you."

Wrapping up her mutant summaries, she shifted the discussion back to the mission. "Anyway... since it might be dangerous out there, you're cleared to visit the armory and take a subgun, carbine, or boltgun. Your choice, depends on what you're used to," she said. You still had your pistol from MechNat, but it seemed like Terma didn't deem it sufficient for an excursion.

You may have practiced with some of these weapons, most likely with Lancaster. If not, you probably sat in one or two general lectures that rebel soldiers have given, concerning these weapons. A subgun fired Lite Pistol bullets on full-auto, and was weak but compact. It was the weapon the police used to kill Jent. Carbines fired Lite Rifle, were semi-automatic, and medium in terms of range and power. The boltgun was army standard-issue. It fired Heavy Rifle cartridges, had a long range, heavy stopping power, but its bolt-action mechanism and small clip made rapid fire impossible. Moreover, it was the most awkward to carry.

 

[Yokai]

Food turned to poisonous lead in Eden’s stomach, her sun-kissed skin now fully drained of its colour and replaced with a greenish pallor. None of Terma’s descriptions sounded promising, in fact she was becoming less and less inclined to partake in this ‘rescue’ mission. Still, she carefully took note of what information she’d been handed and stored it away for later reference; stay away from moving junk, stay away from plants, stay away from open fields of grass.

Just be paranoid, basically, which was definitely something that Eden could do.

When the conversation shifted back to the mission Eden nodded and pushed her food aside, her stomach was far too tumultuous for anything substantial. Over the last few weeks Eden had picked up the tendency of following Lancaster around, not unlike a stray or a shadow, as she’d seemingly latched onto the most familiar person available to her. She hadn’t asked him if it bothered him but the fact that he’d helped with her grasp of weaponry and shooting seemed like a good sign.

“I’ll drop by the armoury and pick up a subgun before we head out.” Eden confirmed, picking the choice that was easiest for beginners like herself. Her weakness was undoubtedly physical strength and she’d need something easy and mobile to carry. “Speaking of which, do you know when we’ll be headed out?”