station72 | [MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

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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[There's a sense that while she listened to everything that Rhys just said, that she doesn't entirely care. It's not that he doesn't have a point. Lexa's people are as dubious as they come when it comes to unknown technology, having managed to forage in a land for goods that would keep them from depending upon it. Even when it comes to the radio that Indra had, it was a necessary evil, and a means to communicating with Skaikru so that they could negotiate and pass information.

Still, she would worry if it weren't passed among her people for so long, and if it weren't something that protected them. But since it does protect them, since it's a part of who she is, she doesn't give any weight to his words. She worries more about what it means to have a symbiote inside of her than that the Flame can do to her.

So, she dismisses his concerns.]

You didn't answer my question, [she says, carefully stepping around how he's just shown concern for her. She won't forget. She just hasn't chosen to acknowledge it just yet.]

Can you scout or hunt? It you can bypass technology, that may prove useful for us here. [Lexa recalls how difficult it had been to get into Mount Weather, and how it began to seem ... impossible. It was that sentiment that led her astray, when their final moments of hope were slipping away.

(Of course, that's just an excuse. Even with the door open, she might have still taken the deal.

Well, no, she likely would have. One led to more assurance of her people's lives than the other.)]

Edited (used the same icon twice ... and then stupid grammar ) 2016-05-30 06:07 (UTC)

[ Narrowing his eyes, he searches her face for a moment, like she can't really be completely dismissing everything he'd just said. After a moment, though, he comes to the conclusion that she can. ]

Really? You're just choosing to ignore everything I— [ He throws up his hands. ] Okay, fine, whatever. [ For a second, it looks like he's about to let it go, but then he holds up a finger. ] Listen, I'm just saying— [ The finger curls back to join the rest in a weak fist, and he exhales, lips pressed together tightly. ] You know what, never mind, let's talk about your thing instead of my thing.

[ Muttered bitterly under his breath, still loud enough to easily make out: ] My thing's more important, though.

[ Closing his eyes, he takes a breath, like Lexa's lack of reaction has him rattled. (It does, because somehow, she has immediately figured out the best way to push his buttons.) After the breath is over, he opens them again, looking away from her. ]

So, your question. Short answer: no. But, [ he adds, not wanting to seem incompetent. (Even though he is.) He can tell she doesn't think much of him, probably sees him as an albatross around the brood's metaphorical neck. Despite their clashing, he can't help wanting her regard. ] Long answer: technically, maybe not, but I'm a good improviser.

These companies aren't our enemies. But we may need their resources down the line to stop the movement that threatens their lifeblood. If we can't get them to act independently, we may need to send someone in to get what we need. [An individual who can act on the inside, or even get a job there. It's an idea, though the idea of employment is still confusing to her. With his proposed skill, he might be able to manage it.

All of this has to do with her acting as a leader, and considering their options. The fact that the Nest doesn't act as a cohesive unit irritates her. There should be a strong, unified goal, but they don't seem like they're keen on proposing it. Instead, they wish for people to hand themselves over, because it rids them of the possibility of hesitation. She can understand that choice. She can see the value in that choice. But there are other means of gaining that without giving up yourself, and they aren't starting at the base.

Lexa breathes out, and then adds:] As for your concern for me, don't worry. I'll remember that you care, but there shouldn't be any issues. [That's a way of twisting it around on him (and doing so without giving him any amount of the same care in return).]

[ I'll remember that you care. It's like she specifically chooses the most irritating way to respond. No thanks for your concern, no yeah, sure, I'll be careful, nothing. Just something that places the burden of caring on him. ]

I just— [ A scoff. ] I don't wanna be troubled because you don't know how your cybernetics work.

[ Rhys shrugs noncommittally, like he doesn't really care, and it isn't a big deal. It is a big deal, and for more reasons than Lexa's own personal safety; a flash of Jack runs through his head, but he shakes his head and it disappears quickly. It's not going to happen again.

It would be nice to have Lexa's assurance that it isn't, though. ]

Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. [ A pause. ] Within reason.

[ It would've sounded better if he left it, but he can't have Lexa thinking he'll jump off a cliff at her command. (Since it seems she's already appointed herself leader of this ragtag band of misfits — he doesn't like it, but it's clear there's no changing that. If he has to, he'll just go rogue and do his own thing.) ]

Just let me know. Uh, preferably in person, not through the telepathy thing.

[Lexa gets the sense that there's something more that he's seeking, but she doesn't know exactly what. If she isn't taking his concerns to heart, it's not out of some blind stubbornness. This situation has unusual similarities to Clarke's concern for her before she fought Roan, though unlike that time, she actually has less doubts. Her confidence in the face of Clarke's relentless concern had partly been feigned. She had no idea if she would die, and she had even been assured of her novitiates' oaths before she entered the ring.

Still, there's a part of Lexa that wishes to be taken at her word, and few people here just do that. They assume she doesn't consider what she has to say, or what she dismisses, as if she's making some folly. She can only imagine how her people would see it as a show of disrespect.

As for his request, she's more than willing to concede to it. She recalls Cathaway remarking that this could be a point of weakness for some in some way, but planning well in advance is never a problem. They should be doing that, anyway.]

It's better to plan ahead. [A beat.] And I've made it clear that even if you're insufferable—[which he is]—you dying will be a problem. We're here to survive as a unit.

[So, "within reason" is completely possible.]

Oh, I see we're not mincing words.

[ He says it with a smirk, like it's an offhanded quip, but he can't fully hide the disappointment in his voice or the way he doesn't look at her directly. It's not that he particularly likes Lexa; it's that he doesn't like being disliked. More than the average bear, what with the vast amounts of insecurity he's got. Luckily, the disappointment is somewhat offset by annoyance. She called him insufferable. In the end, he's standing there, arms crossed, looking more displeased than he wants to. ]

Good to know you're not gonna let me die, that's really... you're going above and beyond, there.

[ Trailing off, he mumbles to himself for a moment before finally meeting her gaze again, regaining some of his Signature Insufferableness™ as he rolls his eyes. ]

Well, I'm not planning on killing you, either, so... look at us. Bonding. Yaaaay.

[It's not that she's completely emotionally inept. She's not. But she's still surprised by the fact that he genuinely seems to be hurt by her words. Yes, they were callous, but she was under the impression that it matched the relationship (or lack thereof) cultivated between them. They are allies. That they're inside of one another's head is an inconvenience that neither of them wants to deal with.

That none of them want to deal with, as far as she knows.]

You're hurt. [Lexa doesn't pose it as a question, but she does want him to go on.]

[ Butthurt, maybe.

There's really nothing to say except, "Yeah, I'm desperate for validation and simultaneously a gigantic douche and I have a LOT OF EMOTIONS," and he is not saying that. He's not super into the vulnerability thing — another similarity between them, actually, the only difference being that Lexa is actually good at repressing her emotions and Rhys pukes his out periodically. ]

Are we gonna have a corny heart-to-heart?

[ The tone implies we are absolutely not gonna have a corny heart-to-heart, even though he's fairly sure Lexa doesn't need to be told that. ]

Don't get me wrong, I think you're insufferable, too.

[ He seems unaware of how completely hypocritical it is. It makes so much sense in his mind; he doesn't mind disliking people, but he minds people having a low opinion of him (part of the reason he'd been so desperate for power, for respect — he'd wanted to be revered). Therefore, one is okay, and the other isn't. ]

I wanted to resolve whatever conflict we were having. [If it involves a "corny heart-to-heart," when she would have to suddenly become someone else. It's not that Lexa's incapable of warm and cuddly moments with friends, but Rhys is decidedly the opposite of a friend. Or someone she cares for. He is an ally, and he's both shown concern and offered her help. She isn't so self-absorbed that she doesn't realize it, but she still feels the need to maintain the distance between them.

Above all else, they don't seem like they will ever fully be on the same level. Then again, Lexa isn't as sensitive as him. Being a politician (as she truly is at heart), she is at least accustomed to people disliking her. She isn't vulnerable about the very possibility of it. That doesn't seem to be the case with him, but he is at least vulnerable. To some degree.]

Whatever it is, you don't like that I've insulted you. I thought our feelings for one another were fairly clear, but I'll do better to not voice them in the future.

Now you're just making it weird.

[ She makes it sound like it's his problem, which— yes, yes, it totally is. ]

That's the point of insults, people get offended by them, are you— were you raised by wolves?

[ It would explain how little she seems to know about dealing with humans. (Or maybe just him, but still.) He throws up his hands, frustrated by how easy his ego still is to bruise; he wants to say he doesn't care at all, but he gives way too many shits. About. Everything. It is an extremely annoying way to be, but he still hasn't managed to shake it yet. ]

Okay, whatever, anyway, just don't let me die and we'll be just fine.

No, I'm usually more aware when my words are bound to hit their target. [It's an admission that's true. Lexa will twist words around to hurt someone, but calling him insufferable when he's inside of her head (and clearly thought the same before he voiced it) hadn't seemed like a problem. So, it's the matter of voicing it that's the issue.]

Though you should be careful about insulting my upbringing. [It doesn't make her bristle, but it's not like her people are strangers to being seen as wild and uncivilized. It's part of why she wanted to change the minds of Skaikru, to help them see that her people live certain ways due to survival, and not because they deserve to be looked down on.]

That said, I'm the leader of my people back home. I imagine our civilization is far different from your own. We can't risk being sensitive about these things. I'm certain you think I'm being strange, but understanding where I come from will make it easier for us to work together in the future. Protecting you is protecting myself. None of us will be replaced should we die. [Yes, she imagines that he's going to say she's making it strange, but she's trying to get this out of the way.

But really, Lexa will just keep her thoughts to herself about him.

As much as she can, anyway.]

[ Of course she's the leader. She has that air about her. Not in a good way, he thinks, but if he's being honest, he's a little jealous of the way she commands a room. There's nothing uncertain about her. No matter what he says, she doesn't shrink. (It's annoying as hell when it's her, but if it were him, it would be better.) He's not surprised to hear she's a leader-type, although a leader of a whole people is unexpected. She's likely in her twenties, not exactly the age most leaders tend to be. He's twenty-seven and spent his entire adult life climbing the corporate ladder, yet he still hadn't made it above middle-management when he was with Hyperion. The only reason he's anything at all at Atlas is because he's the only living employee.

So, again, sort of jealous. ]

We're not sensitive, my boss ran a freakin' kitten-fighting ring. [ Immediately frowning, he says, ] Not. That I like kitten-fighting rings. I'm just saying.

I live— lived. Lived on a planet that was, like, ninety-nine percent murderers, all right. So, it's not like everything was flowers and rainbows and sharing circles for us, either.

[ Basically, you're not that special, Lexa, god!!! ]

Where I'm from, if you insult someone, you're gonna get punched in the face. Or, y'know, head-butted, or— basically any sort of head trauma, really. Trust me, I've got experience.

[So, that's how they show their strength—by responding to every insult that comes their way. Lexa notices that he hasn't shown any signs of punching her for what she said. Maybe he had been surprised, but it's not like he's changed that. Then again, he might realize that it's a hopeless cause.

There are a number of things to dissect from his statement. Lexa considers all of them. One conclusion she makes is that while he says that his people aren't sensitive, it's clear that he is (kitten comment completely ignored, as it seems irrelevant). His feelings are hurt. He's done nothing to persuade her otherwise.

So, she'll stick with her original conclusion. Like she's decided twice before.]

What did they gain by all being murderers? [That's where she decides to take this conversation.] There are warriors who go rogue and kill in my world, but they're exiled and made to fend for themselves. Still, I wouldn't call them murderers.

[ Rhys laughs and shakes his head, a little condescending in a "it's funny how much more I know than you do" way. ]

Okay, well, you're clearly not from Pandora.

[ It's clear he thinks Lexa's world is the Weenie Hut Jr's to Pandora's Salty Spitoon. Like he imagines that they ride unicorns around and that little birds help Lexa get dressed in the morning. Birds help him get dressed in the morning, too, if you count Rakk shit as clothing. ]

"Exile" and "fend for themselves," [ he says, with air quotes. ] That doesn't mean anything there, I mean, everyone's already fending for themselves. It's a lawless wasteland sort of thing.

[ He's got a more negative opinion than some people do — he didn't grow up there, he has no fond memories of whatever the hell it is Pandoran kids do — but even the people who live on Pandora don't want to be on Pandora. That seems like enough evidence to make his case. ]

You kill someone if you want their stuff. Or if they pissed you off. Or if you're just bored. I don't know, a lot of people have tried to kill me for a lot of different reasons. A. Lot.

Your people are too selfish to realize that there are better ways to survive. [Lexa would say that they're too "individualistic," but she doesn't think that's necessarily the right word for it. They lack a leader, or a system that would protect them in a situation like that. She can just as easily see how her world would have become a "lawless wasteland," and she imagines that Skaikru actually believed them to be like that.

The Mountain Men certainly did, at least to some degree. It's how they justified using her people like slaves to either turn into monsters or throw away like sacks of meat.]

It explains a lot about you. [Which is a vague statement that could certainly be taken as an insult, but there's no insult packed behind the words or in her mind.

(It's definitely insulting, though.)]

They're not [ air quotes ] my people.

[ He's definitely taking it as an insult. Mostly, he's determined to take anything Lexa says in the worst way possible. They'll work together all right, he figures, but it doesn't mean she won't still be a gigantic asshole. (An asshole who doesn't deserve to have as many authoritative qualities as she does. It isn't fair. ]

I used to live on Helios. [ He says it like he should know what it's from. ] Oh. Helios was this space station around Pandora's moon. It was also the base of operations for my company. Hyperion.

[ The way he says it is somewhat rehearsed, like he's already told the story. Probably because he has. He nearly expects her to point a gun at him and ask, "What happened next?" just like old times. ]

We were one of the top manufacturers in the six galaxies, just so you know. [ They were also a company of corrupt assholes, but he's fine not mentioning that to Lexa. ] Kind of a big deal.

[The name "Pandora" resonates within her, like a distant thought or memory that doesn't belong to her. She knows about the myth of Pandora's Box, but she doesn't think that's where her knowledge comes from. She considers asking him about it, but chooses not to. Still, there's the sense that the name gives her pause, one that she can't hide completely from him.]

One of the groups of people that recently joined with mine had come down from space, [is what she says instead, considering his words.] They went up there because of space exploration, but it became home for all of them after our world burned. [No, that doesn't sound like a Disney princess, story, Rhys.]

Were you born up there?

[ He considers telling her to mind her own business, but he can't help it. He loves talking about himself. As much as he wants to tell Lexa to shove it simply for the sake of being petty, he can't. Well, he can. Maybe later. ]

What, on Helios? [ Shaking his head, ] No. Like I said, it was just Hyperion's moonbase.

[ Contrary to popular belief, he didn't come out of the womb wearing a suit and carrying business cards. ]

But I got a job there after college, and, you know, that was sort of it. You don't really leave Helios. Or Hyperion. I mean, I did, but. Not a recommended experience.

[There are two directions she could take this, but there's a hint of curiosity to those words. By now, Lexa understands clearly enough that jobs are different from the vocation you take up within a village or even at the capital. Not everyone does something for the sake of surviving. Combine that with the bad conditions of where he's come from, and she finds herself puzzled.

And concerned.]

Were you kept against your will? [There is a sense that this is a loaded question of a kind. Lexa isn't asking out of a place of pure sympathy to his circumstances, but it's other circumstances that leave her wondering. She isn't selfish, at least, or making demands.

For once.]

Eeeeeeeeh, [ he says, making a 'so-so' gesture. ] Not if you want to be there. It's only when you... don't. Want to be there. Or if you don't want to clean up trash with your bare hands—

[ Clearly, there's some very personal resentment there. He still hasn't moved past that demotion. Probably never will. He exhales sharply. ]

I mean, it's a job. You take it, and they pay you, and all that. You just can't... quit. Without dying.

[ The memory of being forced to dig his own grave is fresh. Assholes. Still, it's hard to entirely badmouth Hyperion. He'd wanted, more than anything, to be a part of it. He'd wanted to run a company, and Hyperion was the best of the best. Sitting in the president's chair, looking out at Pandora below, that was the dream. You don't forget all that wishing and hoping just because you embezzled heavily, lost the money to a con, got hunted down, got the president accidentally killed, unwittingly set a psychopathic AI loose in the system— just because a lot of ridiculous shit happened. ]

Hyperion was really big on the whole 'killing people' thing.

You say that as if all jobs work that way. From what you've shared of your world, that may be so. What I've learned here is that they're different. Before you ask, my people don't keep employment in the sense that you might think. We're too busy working together to survive, and we don't have a traditional currency. [There is a quick beat before she offers an aside to that statement:] Truthfully, giving away something useless for a good feels foolish, and like it can be taken advantage of.

[Unaware of counterfeiting as a practice in some worlds, she can still imagine that people would find a way to accomplish it. No, she couldn't begin to figure out how, but it still seems strange to her.]

Were there people in charge in your world who enforced this way of life? [There was someone in Ilde's, a man whose power led him to oppressing others.

It seemed like a thing that people do when they get mad with power.]

Edited (close your html kiddos ) 2016-06-06 04:34 (UTC)

You mean like a CEO?

[ She probably doesn't even know what a CEO is, he realizes. They don't even have money where she's from. They certainly don't have anything like Hyperion. ]

We had a guy in charge of Hyperion, if that's what you mean. A lot of guys, actually, since— they kept... getting killed. By each other.

[ Tassiter, Jack, Henderson, Vasquez — Rhys, the next could've been Rhys if not for Jack's sociopathy. Goddammit. He could've made a real difference, but instead, he's here on an alien planet with a girl who comes from a place without currency and is super mean.

He misses Vaughn. He misses Fiona and Sasha. At least they were affectionately dickish. ]

[If it weren't for this city, the title of CEO would be lost on her. But in the last twenty four hours, she's at least familiarized herself with the title because it was available in their dossier. Still, she firmly associates it with businesses ... instead of governing bodies.

She shakes her head for a moment.]

I was thinking more along the lines of a political leader. A lawmaker. Did no one make laws for your people, or did these companies control everything?

[She has a feeling what the answer is going to be (a firm no), but asking clarification is necessary.

And as much as she literally fails at affection, she is curious, Rhys. Genuinely curious.]

[ A "lawmaker" on Pandora — that's Jack. Was Jack, he supposes. Even though his laws were mostly "don't be a bandit or we'll kill you" and "let me do whatever I want". He'd talked a lot about bringing order to Pandora, but looking back, it doesn't exactly scream order so much as it does random violence. ]

We did — we meaning Hyperion — kind of take control of Pandora? Jack did, anyway, he was sort of... dictator-y.

[ It doesn't even occur to him that anyone in the entire world could not know who Handsome Jack is until a few moments later. ]

Oh, Jack, he was CEO. Of Hyperion. We were pretty much the most powerful company in the world, so. [ He shrugs his shoulders a little, looking a little prideful despite himself. He doesn't stand behind all the things Hyperion did, especially not under Jack's reign, but Hyperion had been #1 in the world and Rhys had been a part of it. He hadn't envisioned being an insignificant code monkey, but he had always wanted to be part of a big, important corporation. ] I mean, Pandora is just one planet, but it's also the only planet with Vaults. Kind of a big deal.

[In another time, in another place, Lexa will recall this conversation and put together the necessary pieces about Rhys, Angel, and Jack. But this is prior to her conversation with Angel, and she hasn't actually made it back to Rhys yet after that. But still, here's a nice paragraph of foreshadowing for the hell of it.

Just the same, her lips twist downward in judgment toward this Jack figure. A dictator isn't a true leader. No matter how much she makes demands for people to follow her, no matter how much she has made questionable choices for the greater good because of some utilitarian thinking she has in mind, she is still far from a dictator. The judgment toward him resonates in her mind.]

Power is something, but if you think you have to utilize it to be a dictator, then you aren't very good at wielding it. [Even if she knows little about this man, he clearly wasn't very good at being a dictator, either. Of course, this is hardly the first time Lexa has gone about judging another world's leaders.

(Probably because she's very good at being judgey.)]

What makes these Vaults so relevant? [She knows what a "vault" is, linguistically, but that's ... honestly why she's asking.]

[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

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