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.))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[The sound of Sam's brain is a low, mild white noise in the back of his own - but it's also remote enough that he doesn't really have it placed in space, at a particular distance. So yeah, the sound of his voice actually takes him a little bit by surprise. Nirad pauses, thumbs poised over the hologram puzzle, and blinks right back at Sam's sheepish expression.

He opens his mouth - closes it - and makes a few more moves on the puzzle, significantly more tentative now. Click, click goes the puzzle, each move dropping the built up score by a successive amount. He makes a few more arbitrary moves out of what now feels like obligation, gaining and losing points in turn, and then glances back up.]

There's organization details - like who's on the board and stuff - in extraspace probably. That's public record. Uh. [A hesitation, a thoughtful tightening to the lines of his expression. After a moment, Nirad depowers the hologram, untangles the angles of his legs and finally leans forward in his chair.] What kind of things are you looking for?

[ While Nirad goes through the puzzle a bit more, Sam's head tilts, watching it curiously, but not really sure how it works. Is the goal to have more points or less? Weird.

Either way, Nirad's speaking up soon after, and Sam blinks his attention back to the man's face. ] Stuff they're involved in, how they're trying to get this AI rights thing going. See what kinda stuff the H+H1 people have been throwing at them.

[ maybe that'll give some kind of insight on how to track the hate group, see where they come from, what resources they have, and what exact it is they're targeting, rather than just the random spread of discontentment. ]

A way to contact them, maybe. [ Sheena, in particular. He wants to hear what she has to say about it all. The story about her is both sad and inspiring. ] Maybe help.

Oh. You mean like what they're funding and where their money comes from...?

[He says it slowly, turning the idea over in his head-- and then brightens and nods. Right. That's a good idea, actually. He kicks his feet out and promptly rolls up out of the chair to stand. Dusting his hands, Nirad moves around the low center table to the broad floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.

With a tap, a section of the window goes opaque - the perfect backing for the extranet window that pops transposes over it.]

Sheena's the head of the organization, but it has a whole board actually. Uh. [He taps rapidly through a few files, jumping through some extranet platforms and finally coming up with a list.] If you want to talk to her, it might be a good idea to go through one of them maybe? Maybe use one of their revenue sources to get to them...

[That mental humming rolls, undulating gently up and down like a wave lapping at some distant coast.]

Right, that.

[ the paper trail. or, rather, the digital trail, he supposes. if they can't get to H+H1's sources, maybe check in on their enemy, see if it leads anywhere. if there's someone funding MindLife, they might be in opposition to someone who could be funding H+H1. a number of things. doesn't hurt to look, at least.

pacing across the room, he follows after nirad, raising his brows a bit at the window-screen - it's a good idea, he hadn't thought of that before. but his attention turns raptly to what's being said and what files nirad's pulling up, though, and sam nods his head, hands crossing over his chest as he ponders on it. ]

Right, good plan. Do we have a list for those, or is there a site with a 'thank you donors' section? Find one with one of the bigger inward cash flows, maybe.

No site, but it's public record somewhere... Most non-profits are. [He hums a low little noise as he taps through the extranet. It's a secondary sound to that engine churn vibration of his mental link and the combination is odd, but not explicitly unpleasant.

A minute or two - it's clear that Nirad isn't necessarily mechanically savvy with how he navigates the extranet, but he's obviously very keen and quick about how he navigates. His hacking might be absolutely rudimentary, but he knows how to use the public channels to take him exactly to where he wants to go. Eventually they land on some kind of official Conchordian committee page with a long text file. He scrolls through it rapidly, leaving fingerprints all over the window as he swipes down through the file.]

Lots of anonymous donors. And private ones. I don't see any big company names but I guess that isn't a surprise.

[The list of names is pretty long, but he singles out the ones who dropped big money and aren't explicitly anonymous: Pemphero, Hed, Vaska, Chinwendu, Padma.]

I haven't heard of any of these people.

[ Sam's eyes follow after Nirad's hands, as he scrolls through the pages, taking not of things to look at later, and finally, ends up on the donor list.

Anonymous, anonymous, anonymous, an then the five named. Putting in enough money to be of some kind of worth, but only the first names, like an online handle or alias, and nothing Nirad's heard of before. Huh. ]

Does running the names through a search bring anything up?

[ sam wonders aloud, stepping forward and to the side, to open up his own extraspace screen on the next window over, entering the first name into a generic search, just to see if anything comes back. ]

Uh...

[He tips his head to study Sam's search results as they generate. Maybe predictably, what pops up is a huge swath of results. There's more than a few public records attached to similar names, a small-time building company by the name of Pemphero Bros, etc.]

Looks like a bunch of junk.

[Polite, Nirad. At least he's mild and cheerful about it.]

[ welp, that's not terribly surprising. if it was that easy there'd be no need for aliases. ]

Sure does. [ it's cool, man. his wife was kara thrace, he's used to Not Exactly Polite. ] So, if I'm someone wanting to give money to support synthetic life, why would I wanna do it behind an alias that just leads to a bunch of meaningless crap? Why not just go totally anonymous, if they didn't wanna be targeted as a supporter?

[ with all the anti-synth violence going on, sam's not surprised people are wanting to hide, but with so many already anon donating, why bother making up a cover? ]

[A small noise. He tabs across, brings up another window and rapidly routes his way toward some kind of public document. Nirad scrolls very quickly. Tap, tap, tap: his finger on the window, leaving prints on the glass. He stops on some sub-clause in the document and highlights it.]

Organizations like Mind Life have to have some percentage of named donors to get formally recognized by things like, uh, local councils and stuff? You can get representation as an individual without it, but I... I'm not as clear on the local policies as I should be, but I think it's helpful to be considered an official group and not just a person.

So I guess to help them more? Or tax breaks...but that doesn't really make sense unless they're routing their income through their fake ID.

Ah. So then these are people committed enough to wanting to see Mind Life legitimized. Could be board members, could be tech companies.

[ anyone's guess. just someone with vested interest, which the load of cash already signifies enough. ]

What's that leave us with, another dead end?

[For a long moment, Nirad frowns at the screens pulled up across the broad reflective (fingerprint smudged) window pane. He picks, for a moment, at an old scar at the center of his lower lip - some kind of habitual practice or impulse.

Then he shrugs, shakes himself, and blinks around to Sam.]

No. I don't think so. It just means we have a detail to keep our eyes peeled for I guess.

[ Sam's watching the projections a moment or so longer, mind searching, until he lets out a slow exhale. ]

Yeah. Fair enough. Better than nothing.

[ pulling up one of the papers he'd been scrawling notes on earlier, he copies down the names they'd found, to keep them nearby and in his mind. ]

I'll let you know if I find anything that fits.

[Nirad nods. One by one, he closes the open extraspace windows as Sam finishes copying the information down.]

If you need any help or uh, even just someone to tell things to to get them out of your brain, just let me know.

[There's a small, humming note of something like eagerness there - a willingness or a kind of compliance, a desire to be helpful. To do something.]

[ blinking up at the offer, Sam takes in the eager buzz there, and tint of restlessness, and he smiles, giving a small nod. ]

Sure, I’d like that. [ after a pause, he adds on - ] Actually, I’ve got some stuff I gleaned off one of the android, plus some… riddle kinda crap I could use a hand figuring out.

Wanna give it a try?

[There's a flicker of surprise, mingled quickly with apprehension both on his face and in the low-key mental hummmmmmmm twitching between their minds. Without the link, it might be difficult to parse the lines of his expression. With it? It's hard not to know exactly how he feels: a little guttering flame of interest coupled with the mental image of that holopuzzle, his tanking game score.]

I'm not very good at puzzles.

[ Sam smiles a bit, remembering how Nirad had been trying to work with the holopuzzle, and he shakes his head. ]

Nah, not like physical puzzles. Word puzzles. I’ve got all this weird metaphor rambling that’s supposed to mean something.

[A low, low murmur of uncertainty persists. He doesn't really think of himself as being very good with words, either; there were always better storytellers. Carata might be better at it than he is now, even though she doesn't really care about anything for very long. He used to think that was required to be good with words.

Not so much anymore.

Nirad shrugs, hapless.]

I could try?

[ nodding, sam holds up a finger, signalling that Nirad should wait just a moment, as he trails back to his room, picks up a pad of paper, and comes back, showing all that notes he’d taken down. Things he’d learned about the city, but the part he flips to is all the nonsense from his hybrid moments, written down after he played back the recordings. ]

All this junk’s supposed to mean something, I’m figuring about Concordia, but who the hell even knows.

[ that’s the trouble with it - he could be talking about this place, he could be talking about home, hell, with the multiverse as it is around him, maybe he’s talking about some place he’s never even seen with his own eyes.

Crappiest power ever, tbh. ]

[When Sam returns with the pad of paper Nirad-- takes his sweet time absently running his fingers across the paper, actually. Most people don't write in notebooks in Concordia - paper isn't obsolete by any means, but it's been months since he thought about taking notes on something other than his digital notepad. The texture of the paper is pleasant. He'd almost forgotten.

--Right. Word puzzles. Pay attention, Nirad.

He reads the notes through once, then twice.]

Uh. The god stuff is Lirinity, right. That's one of the local religions. Counting house... maybe the memory banks? They count and collect things, right? But I guess it could be any of the datachip manufacturers or maybe even some government building. There's a treasury in the city too... --or, oh, it could be whoever's funding H+H1. That too.

[He hesitates, looking to Sam for some kind of confirmation. If he just keeps saying things will Sam eventually start to feel which one is right?]

[ for someone who's the descent of robots, Sam really likes having something solid, in his hands. a pyramid ball, a jersey, kara's dog tag. sentimentality, maybe, but in his human life, he hadn't been the kind of person to appreciate the more abstract part of things, typically. funny, how that's worked out with who and what he is now. either way, he's peering down at the paper as Nirad thinks on it, a hand rubbing at his chin. ]

Yeah, Lirinity, that's what I figured. The four-faced goddess, mother, daughter whatever thing. Have we looked into them much?

[ there weren't really any outspoken links with them to either MindLife or H+H1, were there? Any important public figures heavily involved in the church? He doesn't have any kind of 'that's the right one' juju going on, but it's still helpful to have the thoughts offered. Another perspective. ]

I was thinking either databanks or accountants, maybe that's too literal. Oh-- [ who's funding H+H1, he hadn't thought of that before. And that might tie into Lirinity a bit more. ] Hadn't looked at it that way - the prophet being the bank - but that'd make sense. Do we know if there's any spiritual leader that has a lot to gain from the H+H1 movement? Maybe someone out of Lirinity? Or anyone making public predictions?

Not really. [He shrugs small, considering the question.] They just seemed...normal. Like a staple of the world, I guess? Not that that isn't important but it's mostly, um. A negligible factor.

[That seems like a rude thing to say, doesn't it? Reducing something that might be really really important to some people to a footnote. It probably was important to someone somewhere. Just not to Nirad. Maybe not to the Nest either.]

Lirinity used to be a lot more popular than it is now. Like it used to be a big cultural staple on Opia and now it's not such a big deal. Lots of politicians and stuff don't subscribe to it anymore, so I didn't really consider it important to include in the debrief or anything.

[He lifts his hand, thumbnail playing absently across an old scar bisecting his lower lip. He picks at it: a compulsive habit.]

I don't know if there's anyone like that. There might be though.

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[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

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