"High noon" still has a resonating historical significance not lost on the people of New Amsterdam. Old cowboy movies, complete with John Wayne standing in a dusty, old street are imprinted upon people's memories, helping them recall a simpler past where grudges could be settled with guns. By 2511, these movies have been remade countless times over with different set pieces, but nostalgia continues to be an ever-present factor. It's not nostalgia that drives the UNA soldiers and Morningstar agents into position during this hour, but the time itself serves as a reminder. A call to a different time and a different past.
Outside, the sun burns bright, but people sleep soundly, shades drawn securely over their windows to create a false darkness. This is why the UNA strikes at noon: their targets will be vulnerable, comforted by the presence of daylight only a drawn shade away,
Across town, Morningstar's agents are preparing for their own strike. One of them makes a joke about the non hour. He's told to shut it. They have fifteen minutes. Is everyone ready? Their uniforms are black, tightly fitting. Each of them pulls their mask over their faces. Up ahead, there's a wall to scale.
Fifteen minutes and the plan goes into motion. Each agent knows the costs of this mission. Their last one ended up with numerous dead – lost – with no reward. UNA soldiers are far more threatening than the armed guards Morningstar faced on that day, but the reward is more sure. Worth the risk. They're secure in what they need to do.
Then it's time. Across the city, the UNA soldiers descend in perfect unison. Separate but thinking with one mind, one goal. Eliminate a festering problem, one that only stands to grow in a world haunted by chaos and trauma. It's their job to set things right. To restore order to a world that is currently without.
About forty five minutes in to the widespread assault, El sends out a message to everyone in the safehouse. This time, zeir communication is immediate, without the steady scrolling of text. Prepared in advance:
Hey, so. Emergency everyone. Come to the safehouse ASAP. Morningstar agents are in trouble, including a number who have helped you behind the scenes. Gaby will tell you more once you get there.
Once everyone shows up, crowded inside the part of the safehouse with the cots, Gaby gives everyone the rundown. The risk. The place where the rest of the agents are – this last bit of information being shared with an uneasy edge, arms crossed and body language giving off her discomfort. There are other people at risk, people who can't fight, who try to undermine the corporations with their regular lives, doing their best to keep the people they care about safe from their rebellious activity.
After she hands out the gear, she insists that it must be returned. But Gaby isn't stupid. Her desperation is inherent in her decisions, in the information that follows: exposing most of the inactive safehouses, giving away the addresses of the people likely in danger. Every Morningstar contact in New Amsterdam is likely at risk. So far, agents in other megacities aren't being targeted – yet. But this operation could be a model for future UNA efforts to eliminate the Morningstar threat.
The safehouses are spread across the city. Typically present in disheveled and forgotten pieces of real estate, there will be squatters and homeless alike taking up space as they move inside with the agents. This may prove a risk, and they may need to be bribed to go elsewhere, offered food and supplies. Other safehouses will be beneath bars, convenience stores, and through the storage room in less expensive apartment buildings – businesses and buildings owned by long-time Morningstar agents, kept ready in the case of an emergency like this one.
None of the safehouses will be prepared for living with the exception of cots and communal restrooms ready for use. This is a problem, but not a priority. She'll ask that everyone get out there and save the lives of the agents. Bring them and their families in safely – the rest can be figured out after that.
> RESTORING ORDER
Given the limitations over real estate and space even in a city as large as New Amsterdam, every citizen lives in an apartment building. The great majority of them were meant to be built quickly, similar layouts and designs behind them. A quick bit of research will get anyone the floor plans for these places – they're publicly available, ready for potential tenants. Most of these places are no dreamhouse, however: small and contained, they show the lifestyle of the typical Morningstar agent.
Any of the agents with a child – and there will only ever be one per agent, with the restrictions on childbirth – will have a roomier place, with better furnishing and more space for a child to run and grow up. These places will afford the family within better privacy, and many of them have drones and advanced robotics to help maintain the household, even caring for their child and keeping the door locked as the UNA soldiers move inside.
Where it's viable, the majority of UNA soldiers will move through the front door of these buildings. Never numbered over five, these soldiers will take the endless staircase up, erasing what little chances there are to run into anyone along the way. The knocks are just a cover to soothe the close-packed neighbors. Not all are fooled, and that's where the calls to the NAPD come in – though the UNA is prepared for this, too. Ready to assert their jurisdiction. Rather: their bosses are prepared. These soldiers have their orders and beyond that, only follow their orders with their formidable physicality and swift training.
But they are physically assertive: most of them are tall, seemingly without gender within thick black, metal armor. Despite their size and their robotic carapace, they are human underneath. Their extensive armor doesn't slow them down, instead seeming to propel them forward in a fight, letting them predict their enemies' moves as the mask they wear provides diagnostics and likely attacks on the fly. They carry extensive weapons and supplies, all to wear down any opponents. When they fight together, their actions are perfectly complementary.
They won't start a fight, but as soldiers, they are prepared. Though they enter through the front door, they intend to leave through a window, into a large flying vehicle outside, ready to hold the targets and bring them to a temporary dropsite. They don't expect any assailants, anyone to provide trouble – but they wouldn't be very well-trained, well designed if they couldn't expect or deal with the unexpected. They won't shoot unless someone forces the matter. Their training means their stature should be enough to put down most threats.
> A WELL-LAID TRAP
Confident and well-trained, the Morningstar agents have the plan ahead of them all mapped out. They know the shifts, the patrol patterns, especially at hours like this one. Fewer, right now, but they aren't nonexistent. Several strike teams spread out, ready to move to dismantle the UNA soldiers on site as needed. These are combat-trained agents, but five versus three UNA soldiers, or two, or even one still leads to odds where they don't win. Morningstar knows these soldiers intimately, has studied and discerned their few weaknesses. But these UNA soldiers are formidable opponents.
UNA Soldiers en route to Morningstar's goal will be handled with an eerie lack of follow-up. No reports of reinforcements incoming. The swift-moving Morningstar agents are too focused on their goal, which is close now, to worry about the implications. Besides, their information told them most agents would be away on training exercises. Reinforcements being delayed is no surprise.
Each agent has their own reason for being here, for believing that Morningstar needs to be more proactive, more forceful in fighting back. They aren't career soldiers, but people who thought that they could wield a gun and change a world that hides its problems under false promises and shimmering gloss. Many are impatient, frustrated: they were given a lead on weapons in June. They weren't mislead then, at least not intentionally, but what they got instead was a bus full of disoriented people. This cache is real, verified, and vulnerable, housed here temporarily before being moved for some unknown operation.
Once the Morningstar agents are all inside, the concealed UNA soldiers left at the base line up in formation. Perfectly tailored for the fight ahead, they move onto the site. Any agents on lookout duty will see the UNA moving in, ready to lay waste to anyone in there. This is a trap, they message frantically. The very real weapons inside are meant to mock with false hope.
The UNA aren't worried about Morningstar making off with their toys. After all, this is just as planned.
> INTERLUDE
Numerous officers pass by the holding cells in the NAPD's twelfth precinct, talking softly about what can they even do, muttering to themselves. Others pop a squat nearby and call it a well-earned day off. Let those soldiers take care of whatever mess they're cleaning up. That's not their job.
It's around this time that a third, unidentified group, takes advantage of the chaos. Well-dressed despite what is a late hours right now, they head into the precinct to take care of a dangling loose end. They show credentials that link them to New Beijing's governing body and personal security, they claim the men temporarily known as Tak and Alexei. As they're brought out of their cells, they're injected with the same compulsory drug as always, leaving them veritable walking zombies at first, leaving them unable to speak or act as they're given orders that tell them to do otherwise.
The records of these men will disappear with this action, the two of them swept away into the back of an expensive four-door sedan. The whole incident erased. Two somehow anonymous men didn't kill semi-innocent bystanders during the festival. As long as the records can be trusted, that was a fantasy. A whimsy.
Morningstar cameras will see this sedan stop near the current safehouse, near the typical entrance, and order Hei and Jake out. "Stay here. Sit down. Don't do or say anything until someone comes to retrieve you. It'll be a bit – they're tied up right now."
The man in the passenger seat in the front rolls down his window, leaning forward on his arm. His face is concealed, utilizing technology that's not the same but not dissimilar to what Morningstar has at their disposal. "Try not to do anything else too stupid, will you? The cops are gonna have a bug up their asses about you idiots."
And then the sedan rolls away, lifting up and passing through the city. Morningstar cameras will spot a specific – or perhaps the more apt word is "suspicious" – lack of license plate.
> MEDI-UNITS
Each of the safehouses were designed for the worst case scenario. There is a medi-unit in all of the safehouses, a large and complex machine that can heal most ills, but given the expensive nature of their design and the risk of using them, they're not used lightly.
The medi-units are reserved for the direst of needs. come into play. Dependent on a person's time of death to bring them back to the living, they need the exact time so that someone can clock it in and prepare the restoration process correctly. There are many risks in lacking that information – someone may come back damaged, unhealed, hurt in some way. They may not live for long. Assuming that a body is brought in with a time of death, they'll be directed to a safehouse with a free unit.
The person is kept in a medically induced coma while the machine repairs their body. What dreams someone experiences will be at the end point – which can be between 48 and 60 hours – as they slowly surface, starting to return to the world of the living. As they surface, their mind will be encumbered by images of bright blue lights glowing, swirling, communicating – but language seems thoroughly out of reach.
Once the medi-unit opens, the person inside will be thirsty. Desperate for water. But there will be no other signs of the wear and tear on their bodies.
> FINAL OOC NOTES
Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event and the questions thread for any questions regarding this event. The outcome for this event will depend upon character plans and actions developed in both this OOC post, and any additional plots brought to the moderators. Please feel free to submit any game-changing plans to us under the questions thread – but we will be reading all comments on the post!
The Operation will continue until September 11, IC time. An aftermath wrap up post will be made on January 26 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event.
As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments containing your character utilizing their power in some way. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by FEBRUARY 23 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.
Our Activity Check will be posted tomorrow, January 20, at 9 PM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on January 27. We will not post a warning list.
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meadowlarklogs2019-01-19 09:58 pm
a, save the babies.
as they approach the landing of the floor housing their first objective, a family composed of a biomechanical scientist, a low-level political staffer, and one six year old child, daisy pauses. hesitates, even. her fingers tug down the mask. ]
It's quiet. [ she gestures for rey to do the same. to tug down her own mask, to hug the wall, to keep her hands on her gun instead of obscuring it out of reach. ] We might have beaten them here.
[ she considers, for a moment, the mental map of the building she pulled earlier. she sent it to rey before they left, but they haven't had much time to really look it over while en route to their destination. there's the staircases, of course; they've used these to get up to the right floor. the main hallway of each floor hosts the entry doors to the buildings. they could knock on the right door, but that might wake up some of the neighbors. it might alert the una that someone else is coming for the targets. there are external windows, too. with the gear gaby gave them, they could maybe open a window from the hallway and climb out to the exterior wall. ]
How do you feel about heights?
no subject
She doesn't have the Force here. It's too bad — it'd be much easier if she did. She could feel if anyone was approaching; she could calm these people or send away any UNA agents who showed up. She reaches for it now and feel the now-familiar reflexive ache. ]
Fine. [ She looks up the side of the building. ] Nothing here's really as big as a star destroyer. [ And she'd been using her own cobbled together equipment then. Morningstar's is better quality. ] I mean to say — I've done higher.
no subject
they might just be able to do this, then. ]
Okay. We'll go in through the window. If these floorplans are right, it should bring us into the living room. Families have two rooms. You take [ a quick mental glance at the plans in question; for this building, the rooms flank an internal hallway off of the front door, with the living space at the rear. ] the left door, I'll go right. We'll have to go out the front.
[ which puts them at a little bit of a tactical disadvantage, as who knows what'll be on the other side of that door when it comes time, but they can cross that bridge when they come to it. ]
You want to go first?
no subject
These things better work.
[ Because she doesn't have any other equipment, and the walls here are fancy like the First Order's — sleek, modern — but without the paneling necessary for a spacecraft.
She begins to climb, dropping into silence as she scales her way up towards the window. They do work, as it turns out, and she gets to the ledge. She holds herself there while she wedges the window open. ]
no subject
once the window's budged open, she follows suit; in just a few minutes, they're both flat-footed against the floor of the unit's living room. surprisingly, there's no security system to alert to a window opening on the outside. (daisy makes a mental note to ask fitz about their apartment. with dick coming through every so often, maybe they should look into something like that.) ]
This is so creepy. [ how quiet it is. it feels wrong somehow. ] I feel like a fucking burglar.
[ but what's done is done. ]
Which room first, you think?
no subject
[ She points. ]
They'd want us to.
[ She walks lightly through, like she's at least familiar with trying not to be seen or heard. It doesn't sound like a good idea to startle a Morningstar agent. No way to know if they're carrying a gun too. She's trying hard not to get worked up about uprooting a happy family that loves their children enough to stay with them in an apartment like this, to want them to be saved first by their rebel friends.
It's the life she'd always wanted to imagine she had. She swallows the lump in her throat and heads for the left room. ]
no subject
she'd held her breath, it felt like, for the entirety of the patrol. now that they were here, feet creeping softly across the ground, that breath still sits lodged in her throat, unable to release. they're just trading one unknown for another. when they open the door to the bedroom, what will they find on the other end?
they'll have to find out. daisy leaves rey to gather the kid, and turns to tackle the parents. a soft knock, just two knuckles against the door, alerts them to her presence. unsurprisingly, the husband rouses first. bleary-eyed and startled, he at least has the sense to look at the people entering.
who are you?
friends. we have to go.
and that's all it takes, thank god, for one to agree. his wife is less trusting, but when daisy begins to explain what gaby and el have clued them in on thus far, they're both more than willing to leave without a fuss. ]
We don't have much time. Take only what you have to, and be ready to run. We'll leave in a minute.
[ the door to the parents' bedroom closes behind her, allowing them a brief moment of privacy, before she turns back to check on rey. ]
How's it going?
no subject
They'll be together, at least. All of them. ]
He'll be okay. [ She says it softly. 'Big scary men are coming to take you away' isn't comforting, obviously, but it's effective and concise. ] It's a lot.
[ The parents emerge from the bedroom then. Dad comes for the kid, and Rey takes an instinctive half-step back like she has decided she is protecting this small human and doesn't want to give him up. But no, of course, it's his parent. Reluctantly, she passes him off. ] Careful. He's still half-asleep.
[ And it hurts to watch them together. Her eyes are glassy with it. Families are hard. Not having a family is hard. She looks back at Daisy and then nods for the door. ]
You lead. I'll bring up the back.
no subject
there's a pause, justified as daisy moving back to the window to shut it firmly; it's only long enough for a brief contact, but even so, she makes the effort to reach out and squeeze one of rey's hands. we've got this, she says under her breath, and the empathy bond confirms it. fierce protectiveness spills over, even in the short contact.
and then they take position. daisy in the front, father and son following with mom at their heels, rey sweeping the back to keep eyes on the hallway and the stairs. the front door opens to nothing, the staircase leads to nothing, and so they move on — to hold their breath a little longer, to hope the trend of nothing continues. ]
The safehouse's not too far from here. Just a couple blocks.
no subject
So she brings up the rear. And she tries not to clench her jaw too hard with her alertness.
They reach the bottom of the stairs, and Rey reaches out to pull the dad and child back, pushing them behind her because that's who she can reach, when she sees that UNA soldiers have fanned out in the lobby. Three of them, all wearing helmets, none of them speaking a word. Rey pulls her mask back down. ]
no subject
it's not fair. they've come this far, they've risked so much, they've managed to beat these fucking supersoldiers to the first name on the list only to wind up walking into a fight at the end of it. it's bullshit, is what it is, and daisy won't take it. the soldiers want the parents, she knows that much; the kids are collateral damage, gaby had warned them, likely to be left aside to be someone else's problem while the soldiers claim what they came for.
daisy won't let this little boy be an orphan. not if she can help it. the mask comes down, the gloves go on, and her jaw sets in a fierce, determined line. ]
we have to get them out of here.
[ a mental message, thought-to-text, sent to rey in the blink of an eye. ]
the doors to your left should be unlocked
my building uses them as a fire exit
send them there, i can redirect the soldiers to the right
we can fight or we can run, but we can't do both
what do you want to do?
no subject
[ Rey gets her hand on Mom's shoulder and starts nudging her towards the emergency door. She drops her voice. Thought-to-text doesn't work here, so she busies herself for a moment whispering direction to them. Ultimately, though, Dad just gives her each of their implant information so she can pass the coordinates for the safehouse along.
And Rey does.
Hastily, when she realizes her whispering has drawn the attention of the UNA up the stairs. She shoves them towards the exit. ]
Go! [ They look panicked — for her, she realizes too late, not for themselves — but they turn and escape, setting off a glaxon that booms through the building. Rey turns her attention down the stairs to the advancing UNA soldiers. ] You've fought before, right?
[ She should have asked that first. Daisy looks Soft. ]
no subject
[ and she typically relies on the convenience of quaking her opponents clear across a room, and these guys probably outweigh (and outfight) them 2-to-1 — but what the hell, right? she can do this. they have to do this.
in the brief half-second before the soldiers take up all of their personal space, daisy thinks back to training. sparring with may, sparring with ward. find your opponent's weaknesses, use them against them. if you can't, find their pride and mock it. ]
We need to surprise them. [ they need an ace up their sleeve. her own gun, set to kill. there's no time to wonder if someone's stunned enough. they're either alive and against you or dead and forgotten. ] How's your aim?
[ with the gun? with your powers? either or. ]
no subject
I say 'starts' here because Rey's first shot misses. Without the Force, her aim leaves a lot to be desired, and these guns aren't blasters, and they're clumsier for it. But she's been practicing and she's trying her best. The monsters were just so much ... bigger.
At least she's not hitting Daisy.
The second shot clips one of the advancing soldiers in the shoulder, but it doesn't even cause them to flinch. ]
no subject
at least, that's her intention.
the guns are bigger than her smith & wesson, and less streamlined than the sniper rifles ward had so often saddled her with, but they're suprisingly less heavy than their size might indicate. which means, as far as daisy's concerned, they're much easier than expected to aim.
not that the armor on these bad boys really gives much room for error. her first shot hits the leftmost on his stomach, and though he looks down at the smoking black gear, it's clear when he moves again that they're going to have to hit much harder. ]
we have to hit skin
[ the thought comes much clearer than anything daisy might have articulated. ]
their faces, their hands, the breaks in the armor
we have to hit to kill, and we have to hit on target
can you do that?
no subject
[ There's no guilt there.
Maybe there should be, but Rey has lived a hard life, and while she'd never kill unnecessarily, she has no problem identifying in haste what's necessary and appropriate. She won't think twice about them after they're dead, either.
She fires off a shot. It goes askew, but the next one clips one of the soldiers in the hands. They're advancing too quickly, practically overtaking them now. This isn't going to work. If they need to be this precise, the closer these soldiers get, the less precise they'll be. Killing them isn't actually an option.
At least no one can see Rey's panicked calculations, thanks to her mask. ]
no subject
[ they're calculating together, as it turns out. thinking in parallel, because they're suffering in it. so far, they're down two soldiers — the one rey targets by hand, and the one that daisy shoots in the face out of sheer surprise when he moves forward faster than expected.
it feels good, but the sight of the two that advance directly behind him quickly mitigates any celebrations she might want to kick up.
they need a new plan, and they need it now. ]
i can't make a barrier strong enough that fast
can you lift them? or us?
no subject
[ Not lift, maybe. But Rey has already done this other move twice now, and she thinks she can do it again. Lifting is new and difficult, but her panic has welled up in her, and she tries to hold tight to it to remember the feeling she'd gotten when the monsters attacked, when she'd been under the influence of that sickness and gone after Kylo Ren.
She reaches out with both hands and the light in her chest blooms blue beneath her stealth gear. The UNA soldiers stagger and stop in their charge, like they're trying to move through quicksand.
It's hard. Rey's jaw is tense, muscles rippling beneath her mask as she tries to hold it. She didn't think they'd be this strong. Stronger than Kylo Ren, certainly. Maybe as strong as that creature. ]
Go. Get a head start. I'll be right behind you.
no subject
[ but it's a futile protest, because rey doesn't give her much choice. but what rey does is no less impressive than the feeling of flight she'd given daisy before — even though she runs, she can't help but peek back over her shoulder, marveling at the sight of the other girl's strength in action.
she's distracted from her view by a boom of something going off in the distance, followed up by a bright stream of light. a flash bomb, maybe, or an exploding lantern of some kind. not good news, in any case. she really should run. ]
i'm going to come back and kill you myself if you don't start running!
no subject
Bother.
She turns and bolts after Daisy, sprinting hard. There's nothing delicate about Rey's run. It's all power and force, a run that belongs to a being much bigger than her, heavy footfalls and all. She doesn't quite catch up to Daisy, but she gets close enough that she can see Daisy at least.
And Daisy can see her too. Along with the UNA soldiers behind. ]
We have to lose them!
no subject
fuck fuck fuck
[ the equivalent of static, daisy's brain scrambling to come up with some solution that will keep them both safe. they're running, each sprinting as hard as they can, but the soldiers advance on them as if it's a slow jog in the park.
they can't keep up this way. ]
i think we have to split up
they don't seem to split up for anything
let them follow me, you double back and make sure the family got to the safehouse okay
no subject
[ stubborn, firm. ]
I can hold them back. Slow them down. You get the family safe.
[ it's more reasonable. she's not going to account for either of their training right now because she's not going to get into the argument about what jakku was like in the midst of this. but she's good at getting away. ]
no subject
Okay. But you better not die on me.
[ she expects a check-in when rey gets somewhere safe, damnit. ]
no subject
She'll find Daisy again later, but not that night. ]