[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: Day :000 - ???
SUMMARY: Leaving the Station; the arrival and first days on Concordia. Concordia pt.1.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

IT'S EARLY IN THE DAY and something feels strange. It’s not unlike when a new Host - not one of your brood, but close enough to feel the tug - comes awake on the Nesting Deck. But it’s just the initial tug. There’s no noise, no hum of confusion or volume. Today, it’s just there: a sensation of presence that a moment ago wasn’t. Soon after follows a prickling awareness of urgency. A small electric bolt through the mind. Cathaway doesn’t use words in the mind, but her meaning is nonetheless easily understood: come to her on the hangar; your presence is required.

On the hangar there is a sleek, low profile transport ship. Before it stand Cathaway and Prince and in their company is a stranger: a short woman with warm skin and dark hair, wearing unfamiliar colorful clothes and a quick, pleasant smile. You’ve never seen her before, but you know she’s a Host.

“This is them?” Her voice is light and sweet. Prince, occupied by a databank, glances up at her then nods once. There’s a tension in his shoulder and through his jaw - a distinct contrast to Cathaway and the stranger who lack both.

“Lovely.” Her tone is breezy and easy, delighted. “Hello, it is so nice to meet you all! My name is Carata. My partner and I have been away on duty for a few months, but it’s become clear that we need backup on our assignment. We are hoping you can help.” Carata motions to the mission equipment in neat kits at her feet. There is one for each young Host.

Prince folds his pad down into its smallest form. His expression is set and serious.

“You will be joining Carata and Nirad on the planet below to assist them with their mission. Your datapbank will provide you with information about the planet and the city where you will be stationed. This mission is covert and the planet itself has no contact with other planetary races, so you will need to do your utmost to blend in.”

Cathaway sharpens slowly beside them: a dull pencil being sharpened to a point as her attention curves back to this place, this instance. She unfolds her hands. “You’ll be provided with an earpiece that should allow you to interface with the local technology and a fake identity for your cover on world. Please mind both carefully and be sure to keep your databanks offline. It would be inconvenient if they were networked while on planet.” From the way she says it, it sounds like ‘inconvenient’ might be an understatement. “This mission shouldn’t be inherently life threatening. Your primary goal is to investigate the anti-android movement. Carata and Nirad will be able to tell you what your databanks do not.”

“You should listen to them,” Prince adds. “Rely on their experience and knowledge to help you succeed in your task. Be mindful, and treat them with the respect they have earned.”

At this Carata laughs. It’s a bright, joyful sound, her hands coming up to clasp in front of her chest, “Please, teacher, you are too serious. I am sure they will do very well. Come along then! Gather your things; we must leave as soon as possible. I do hate to leave Nirad alone for too long.”

Turning her back to the Hosts, Carata takes Cathaway’s hand for a moment Nothing is said, but there’s the distinct impression of something passing between them. They release their grip, then Carata turns to Prince. She places her hands on his shoulders and goes up to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t return the gesture, but those with sharp eyes will note he does lean down slightly to make her job easier.

Gather your gear, get anything from your rooms you might not want to leave behind. In two hours, everyone attending the mission will be buckled or strapped into the transport as Carata readies the ship for takeoff. She explains, neatly and concisely, what they believe the enemy to be doing in Concordia. Then, with a turning of the deck, the ship is freed from the embrace of Station 72.

It will be a long time before you see this place again.

     I. THE WHEELS ON THE BUS
The flight to Concordia is surprisingly short. By the time Carata's finished her explanation, you've passed into a new universe. It comes with a strange wave of something akin to nausea. Outside the transport's starboard viewports lays Opia in all it's glory: a beautiful blue marble speckled with sixteen landmasses and swathed in thing clouds like spun sugar. From this distance, clusters of light burn from specific points on the continents like a map of grounded constellations. As one of the great megacities of Opia comes curling from around the edge of the planet, the transport ship begins to descend.

Atmospheric entry is smooth. The transport drops at the outskirts of Concordia on what is, hilariously, some kind of large parking garage. It has engaged the most sophisticated of its cloaking technology to do this and Carata urged everyone to disembark quickly so the ship can return to orbiting the planet before it's detected.

"It will be back," she says flippantly. "When we've finished our job."

The ship departs. It's quiet and still for a handful of minutes; Carata seems unconcerned and gives little in the way of direction or instruction. The city flashes around them - bright lights and neon masking the fading of natural light - and nearby, a roadway hums. Eventually the sound of a car pitches louder. A set of headlamps shear from the long line of cars and in moments a long, squarish transport van pulls up and parks at the top of the garage. The side door slides open to admit everyone. In the driver's seat is an android - shining metal and cheerful as it greets every host by name. Beside the android in the van's passenger seat sits a tall, dark skinned man who - much like Carata - is obviously a host.

Welcome to Concordia.

     II. HOME SWEET HOME
It's a long drive into the city. The buildings get taller, the lights get brighter, the streets get busier. There are throngs of people on the street, dogged by endless rows of neon bright advertisements. Traffic is either miserable or flowing depending on the neighborhood and trams run on tracks fifty feet or more above the roadways. Streams of people files from the pavement to the subways, countless numbers of escalators leading down.

When the bus finally stops, it's in front of a building as tall as any others. The signs here mark this section of the city as BETA BLOCK and when you get out and into the building lobby you find that the door opens for you automatically. A chime rings through the interfacing ear piece and when you enter the elevators, the only floor accessible to you is NUMBER EIGHTEEN. When you disembark, a kind voice welcomes you by home in your ear. There are a large number of rooms here in Bearing - stake your claim, everyone! Nirad and Carata already have a couple of rooms in the Southwest corner of the building, but the rest are open. Time to settle in!

     III. FEET ON THE GROUND
You're given the rest of the night to sleep (or...whatever), but by 9AM the next morning everyone is awoken by Carata's voice in their head. She's clearly not shy of using her symbiotic connection.

( Good morning! I know this is quite a lot to get used to. I believe this is your first true assignment? But I have always believed that the best way to learn something new is to jump right in. ) The words are accompanied by the sensation of someone clapping their hands together, a cheerful kind of practicality. ( You’ve been given a credit card. I encourage you to go out today and learn what you can about this place. Talk to people. Listen to the news. Be sure to remember your cover identity, and don’t hesitate to call if you find yourself in trouble. )

There is nothing pressing to the suggestion, just the sensation- light. Airy. Fun. She switches track after a moment, a thoughtful addition: ( There is also a rally in town today. It’s being run by The True Children of Opia, some minor little hate group-- ) She seems to wave off the unsavory aspects as she forges ahead, ( They aren’t affiliated with Humans + Humans 1st, but they do have very similar ideologies and it is quite probable that there is overlap in their membership. If you would rather, it is also quite likely that there will be protestors there as well, both members of Mind Life and those who are adamant about pursuing digital resurrection. Please do be careful, though, sometimes those rallies can be a little... ) An image of an oily substance catching flame, quickly and hotly.

( Whatever you chose, simply do your best to get your bearings. ) She seems to realize the unintended joke there, given the name of their current residence, and a bright happy flash of color accompanies it. What a delightful surprise. ( Prepare yourself for what is to come. Nirad and I will continue our investigation in the meantime. )

---

((OOC Notes: This is the catchall log for the first stages of the Concordia mission. You'll notice there's no set ending date, so use this log however you like - alternatively, feel free to start your own logs in the setting! Don't worry; we'll be keeping a close eye on things, so if something big starts to happen that necessitates a new long, we'll make sure to keep our bases covered and all of y'all updated. Just be aware that dating forward farther than :010 may get a little dicey.

If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here.))

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( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[exhuxperation]

[ (He prefers the solitude, though he's slowly coming to terms with the usefulness of this arrangement). ]

It depends on what it is. [ As a rule, he's not fond of surprises. Hux has never been particularly good with social situations and surprises of that nature tend to leave him reeling. Tactical surprises are a different story– while they usually aren't welcome, there's something exhilarating about the challenge. The adrenaline.

Well, that is neither here nor there.

Watching Carata for a moment, he ultimately decides to follow, curiosity piqued enough. ]

Yes.

[serenae]

Well, there is value in caution.

[It is impossible to miss the slight suggestion in her words- it takes all sorts. To each their own.

She slips into her shoes and immediately into the elevator, holding the he door with her interfacing device and waiting patiently enough, if you ignored the slight bouncing sway as she stands there. As soon as she slides in with her the door slides shut behind him, and she turns her head to look out the glass strip behind them that overlooks the city as they begin moving down.]

Do you find this place very surprising?

[exhuxperation]

[ Better safe than sorry. That's what he's been raised on. Calculated risk, if he's to take one at all.

It works in a group setting, since there's always someone willing to pull the trigger while he's still mulling it over. Sometimes that leads to disaster, but setting things in motion can be difficult when he's content to think it through for days at a time. Hux steps into the lift after her, gaze pinned on the blurring city through the glass strip. ]

How do you mean?

[serenae]

I mean it how I said it.

[Her tone is distracted, gaze still drawn to the window. They're not high, it doesn't take long to reach the bottom. It's enough of a deadline for her to turn back to him again, blinking once and smiling crisply.]

Does this seem like a strange place to you? I don't know what you're accustomed to.

[It's a true statement that threatens to not be, very soon. She doesn't press into his mind, but her curiosity is a clear bright spotlight. She wants to see. Won't he show her? It's such a simple thing. Words were never so clear, and her mind is warm and inviting and very calm.]

[exhuxperation]

[ Out of the corner of his eye, Carata is staring outside, something he mirrors as he considers his answer. They reach the bottom floor, doors opening with a quiet swish. ]

It's not strange. [ A little different, yes, but nothing will be the same as what he considered home. Of course, the AI are more advanced here. Like droids that haven't been reset.

The impressive rush of people is also a bit off-putting. But then, he's never felt at home surrounded by people. As he thinks about it, he feels an odd sense of warmth. An invitation. It takes a second but he finally pinpoints it as the brush of Carata's mind alongside his. Instinctually, he locks up at first, has to tell himself it makes sense to transmit information this way. If she wants to know about his world, it's not exactly something he can put into words.

Gradually, he lets his defense relax, holding the image of the Finalizer in his head as they walk along. ]

This place is brighter. Louder, too.

[serenae]

[She takes the open door as an invitation, stepping past him and out into the lobby. It's busy- manufactured stone and steel and the bustle of people coming home from their jobs- those that had jobs that required them to change their physical location- and heading out to the evenings entertainment. She takes a sideways step, allowing a stream of people to move past her before she angles towards the door, miving easily and freely.

She feels the way he almost shuts her out, before he eases up the grip he has on his mind. He makes an offering-a sterile one, perhaps, carefully regulated, but she doesn't press any further. Takes the aggressive lines of the Finalizer, his home and his domain. It was quiet, in comparison, and dark. Reserved. Inherently violent, but not in a way that discomforted him.

It's interesting, that that is his image of where he was from. Not whatever place he had called home as a child, not a planet or even a city. A simple ship in the darkness of space.]

It is a very busy place.

[She pauses at the door, glancing left and right before she pads out onto the sidewalk, delicately weaving between the passers by, their carefully structured outfits and augmentation distinguishing each of them, a vibrant and thriving collection.]

You were perhaps more comfortable on the station?

[exhuxperation]

[ Once they're outside, it does feel oddly comfortable. Even though it's a press of bodies and noise and lights. Easy to get lost here. He's still cautious as always, sticking close to Carata. Then again, it's not like he could completely lose her, not when the whole of them are mentally linked.

His mental image of the Finalizer sticks, brief flashes of memories filling in the spaces between. The sound of troopers marching, the transparisteel viewports, the flutter of Phasma's ridiculous cloak. ]

A lot of people consider it home.

[ And so does he. Planets never held much thrall for him. Not even Starkiller. ]

Not exactly. The spaciousness was desirable, but the lack of doors is... [ How does he put this. ] Disconcerting.

[ But hey, back to the original topic. ] Where are we heading?

[serenae]

[She's not going far- just past their building, in the empty space between it and the next, occupied by a small park, still mostly concrete, with benches and trailing plants cascading down the sides of geometric, sterile sculptures.

A lot of people. She wonders if that's true, or if it simply that he imagines it must be. That it was home for him, so how could it be different for so many others? The feeling that those around you shared the most cherished sentiments you had. Something to keep you from feeling alone. Even surrounded by others, it was possible to be completely isolated.

Not for them, of course. Not anymore.]

Oh. Yes, you're pretty new, so I guess you're still in the rooms. If it makes you feel better, the station is capable of making doors.

[For those who knew how to ask. Most who learned to do it didn't feel the need for doors anymore, but she knew one of her teachers found some comfort in them.

The crowds are thinner near the park, and by the time she stops, just beside one of the tall vertical planters there aren't many people around them at all. She turns back to him, and to the building Bearings was a part of, face tilting up.]

Here. We have to wait a little bit.

[exhuxperation]

[ What a strange place to be going, though he supposes it's less weird than if it were super far. When they stop by one of the planters, he looks around, taking note of what's around. He's always been one for details, but sometimes he forgot to stop and simply let it all settle in. Being onboard the Finalizer had never given him much time to do so.

If anything, he's getting one good thing out of this. The station can build doors. Would've been nice to know, but he supposes he should've asked as well. Something to keep in mind when he gets back. ]

I see. [ Duly noted.

What are they waiting for? Hux tilts his chin up as well, the haze of nearby lights illuminating. ]

[serenae]

[For a moment, maybe a minute, perhaps slightly more, all they are doing is waiting. The park is tucked just far enough away from the street to dampen the sounds of the city, the swishing sound of passing vehicles and the holo advertisements blaring from every corner. There's plenty to see from here, but Carata's gaze stays firmly fixed on the building.]

Oh- [She reaches out, lightly wrapping her fingers around Hux's wrist to draw his attention] there it is.

[It is somewhat incomprehensible at first. Near the top of the building there is a flicker, a flash. A collection of small shapes pouring out to cover the top windows, their wings flashing bright in the fading sunlight as they begin working downward, iridescent.]

Windows washers. [A helpful explanation. From this distance it's difficult to fully discern the little machines, they appear instead as simply a collection of lights and colors covering the top of the building, swarming over the surface and dancing effortlessly over it.

She thinks it's pretty. It makes her feel happy, content. Obvious thought the thin, fragile connection between them.]