"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
5
It is a mercy that this child is left sleeping, hopefully put down ere the madness started. He has seen all too often what can happen to a child – to anyone – who has witnessed such violence. For whatever paltry comfort it may bring, these UNA soldiers have showed more mercy than the enemies X’rhun is used to. Were it Garlean soldiers knocking down these doors, not a soul would have been spared.
But those are thoughts for another time, for they’ve just happened across precious cargo indeed, and now it is their job to see this little one ferried to safety. ]
I will take her, then.
[ X’rhun hasn’t yet managed to figure out how to use his strange new power at will, but it has had a habit of cropping up when he most needs it. Hopefully if bullets begin flying (and they will), it will spring up to keep the girl safe.
Once Prompto has freed the child from the lifeless arms of her parent, X’rhun scoops her up to gently cradle her against his chest. ]
Keep a sharp eye, my friend. You’ve far better aim than I.
no subject
Okay.
[he stands back when the other suggests carrying the sleeping girl, then worries about finding a blanket to cover the corpse they are leaving behind. it's a matter of respect, right?]
[seeing a dead body is never easy. he hopes not to have to do that too often, anymore.]
[eyes lingering on the shape of the body, he answers the other's words.]
There's a safehouse in the building next to this one. Under the basement, seems like. [to think that if they would have had five minutes of warning, they could have all escaped there without problem.] Let's avoid the stairs.
[hand going for his guns, prompto walks towards the door.]
The elevator should be safe, but let's not get out on the lobby. Ready?
no subject
Prompto tosses a blanket over the body, and with a slight bow of his head, X’rhun offers a brief and silent prayer to whatever gods may care to watch other this place for the deceased. ]
Ready.
[ Then they’re off again. X’rhun feels lost without his rapier, and he’s no good with a firearm at all. It will have to be up to Prompto to do any distance fighting, should it come to that. He keeps the sleeping girl tucked close to his chest, ready to shield her if he must, as they make their way to the elevator. ]
Do you suppose any of the neighbors might have called the authorities?
no subject
[he slams his elbow onto the elevator button soon as he reaches it. he steps back a bit and moves towards the door leading to the stairs, gun drawn and pointing downwards. he pushes it open a bit, barely two inches, and looks and listens for any signs of soldiers approaching.]
[it's barely there, but--]
Even if they did, seems like a super late response time for anything.
[his words are spoken soon as he's slowly and gently closed the door again. the elevator climbs towards their floor.]
Footsteps coming up, a few floors down. [he reports] If they're coming up, we should go down.
[the elevator needs to hurry...]
no subject
Prompto tries the door, and X’rhun goes quite still indeed, ears perked for the sounds of approaching footfalls. Like his companion, he can just barely make them out. Prompto has the better vantage point, though, and can mark the direction where he cannot. ]
A wise course of action.
[ He casts a glance at the elevator, the illuminated arrow over the doors seeming to mock them as the machine makes its slow climb upward. ]
Should they breach that door ere we can make it in, we’ll have to run for it. I can hope to shield us somewhat, but I wouldn’t put much stock in my power just yet.
no subject
[he mutters, pressing at the button on the elevator again several times as if that would make a difference. what's important right now, and he's sure is left unsaid, is getting this child out and safe.]
[checking the virtual map for a better view of what's going on, prompto frowns.]
Damn.
I think they're going for another agent.
[but here lies the issue: to stop them from taking the agent and risk the life of the child, or to protect this child...]
[still, prompto feels anxious about this whole ordeal.]
It's a few floors up. I don't think anyone else is coming. I could just grab them and we bail outta here. I doubt they'd try to look too far for a target that isn't around anymore.
no subject
[ He says, knowing full well that there are some of their number who would suggest killing two of their own for being taken into police custody. Nice that he knows just what sort of people have been brought here with him.
X'rhun understands the quandary of wanting to prevent more bloodshed, but his gaze drifts understandably to the girl cradled in his arms. She doesn't show any signs of waking any time soon and he would wager whatever they pumped into her is meant to last a good long while. ]
Let us try. If it comes to the worst, I can leave her somewhere secluded – we already know these soldiers are not out to kill the children. She will probably be safe sleeping on her own for a bit.
no subject
Put her in the elevator soon as it comes up, and go to floor fifty-seven. I'll head on first on the stairs and get the target. I can move faster if I focus. [he frowns; there's no time to waste.] I'll tell you the rest through text!
[he's already bouncing on his feet, opening the door to the stairs and disappearing behind it.]
[immediately -- he takes a few seconds to gather himself, stop moving, simply focus. and his power activates. it doesn't make him faster, no, but it allows him to hear and see more clearly, with better precision. the footsteps are at least ten floors below, his destination five floors above. his feet move quickly and without any kind of tumbling disrupting his quick ascent.]
[just as soon, prompto messages x'rhun]
the elevator's speed is great than theirs, they're weighed down by their armor
if the elevator is already there you'll make it a few seconds after me
apartment 57-0A
we gotta move the whole family
if we don't mess up we can get back in the elevator before the soldiers get here and we can head down soon as they step into the hallway
[his mind feels clearer--lighter--more understanding and quicker to react. he pushes the door open and hurries to the apartment, slamming at the door.]
Morningstar agents! You're in danger! You need to come out NOW!
[nothing, at first, and prompto feels the sweat under the helmet completely dampening his forehead and back of his neck. then, surprising even himself, there's noise coming from inside, frantic, but hopefully following to the urgency of the matter at hand.]
no subject
The elevator pings its arrival as X’rhun is skimming the first line of Prompto’s message. He steps inside as he pours over the rest, jamming the button for the 57th floor with a fist. ]
In the elevator. I’m on my way.
[ It is not much of a plan as plans go, but surprisingly a sound strategy for as little time as they have. There are a lot of “ifs” in Prompto’s idea, so they must be prepared to think on the fly, but he is impressed nonetheless.
X’rhun tucks the little girl into a corner of the elevator – it’s all he can do, as he makes the painfully slow ascent to the designated floor. As soon as the doors open, he’s quick to move into the hall, spotting Prompto. ]
Any luck?
[ He keeps his tone quiet as he approaches, but there is no mistaking the urgency in his voice. Beneath his helm, his ears remain swiveled towards the stairwell, ready for the sounds of approach. ]
no subject
[soon enough -- the door slides open, the frantic face of a woman roused from sleep and inked with fear, color draining from her, hazel eyes as frantic as the shaking she's just about managing to keep in check. in front of her, a pre-teen, and in her arms a babe that sleeps soundly despite the noise; it's starting to fuss, though, and prompto feels a sense of elation but dread, at the same time.]
Is this everyone?
Yes. My boyfriend works graveyard shift. What's-
There's no time to explain. [prompto urges, holstering his gun and tugging them out of the apartment, out the hallway, where the elevator waits for them.] Get in the elevator, quick!
[the footsteps are closer. he stays close just in case the stairwell's door bursts open, trusting that x'rhun is close by, too. the boy glances at the girl in the corner of the elevator, looking more alarmed by the second, but his mother maintains perfect calm despite the circumstances, her hold on her baby tight.]
no subject
He and Prompto linger in the hall while the family files into the elevator, but no sooner do they get inside than the door to the stairway does burst open, black clad and armored figures poised to file through. Two things happen in quick succession: first, X’rhun jams the button on the elevator, setting the door sliding shut with he and Prompto left behind. Second, an elongated cube of red light springs into being at the base of the doorway, X’rhun’s powers activating, unbidden. The first soldier through the door catches a boot upon the shape and topples forward. It’s just unexpected enough that three of them go down in a heap before the fourth catches wise and stops short. He doesn’t pay his fallen comrades much heed and instead brings his gun to bear.
X’rhun grabs Prompto’s arm, tugging him down the hall. ]
Move!
[ Well, they’ve got their attention now, so hopefully it’s enough for the woman and her family to get to safety. ]
no subject
[for now, they run, down the hall.]
There's a window! We're gonna have to break through!
[he's already shooting at it, arm extended, the shots precise, no doubt aided by his activated power, shattering the glass to make their escape through it much easier.]
no subject
Equipped with their borrowed tech, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, provided it works as intended and they do not plummet to their deaths. They’ve little other recourse, though, as bullets that are not Prompto’s wiz down the hall, coming close enough to bite into the sleeve of X’rhun’s dark clothing, scoring the skin beneath.
Out the window it is.
He doesn’t dare slow his pace as they approach the ruined glass, the pane just wide enough for the two of them to fit. X’rhun leaps, throwing his arms up to protect his face. As he does so, his powers flare to life again, a simple square of bright red light flashes into being just in front of him, a small shield that moves with them to smash through whatever may be left of the window and guards them both from flying shards of glass.
There is a harrowing moment where they’re in freefall, but that block of light moves with the situation, answering X’rhun’s unspoken prayer for them to live to see the end of this day. It solidifies beneath his boots, stopping his drop after only a half dozen feet. Bracing one hand against the side of the building to allow his glove to activate, he snaps his free hand out to snatch Prompto as he passes. ]
no subject
[prompto follows suit after x'rhun, managing to twist around to land a few shots on the soldiers's helmets -- making them stagger, allowing them a few seconds of respite from the barrage of bullets. he's free falling though, yelling his lungs out as his legs kick, finding no ground to step on.]
[it's fortunate that he sees x'rhun's hand stretching out when he does -- and so he reaches out, too, shoes managing to land on the square of light supporting the other two.]
Is there any appropriate curse for this?!
[he manages, partly excited with adrenaline, partly terrified. but his mind is scanning everything his eyes go over, analyzing everything despite him to rely heavily on luck.]
[there are pipes running along the side of the building, and prompto follows them with his gaze. the noisy tick that he hears upon keeping his attention on the valve indicates one thing: steam.]
[immediately, x'rhun's interface gets flooded with text.]
we gotta go down and keep going down and if we're lucky we'll meet with the agent and the kids and help them escape
i'll shoot the pipes
steam
pchoo
a cover for us so we don't get shot from above
also distraction from anyone hanging around
[his own glove activates as he lets go and holds on to the wall.]
you go first
[prompto's wasting no time, sending a couple of accurate shots towards the highest pressure points of the pipes -- steam immediately ringing out, shrill and explosive at the same time]
no subject
“Thall’s balls” is an old favorite of mine. I appreciate that it rhymes.
[ This is no time to be teaching children vulgarity, however. It is only a matter of time ere they’ll have a hail of bullets to contend with, but Prompto is already a step ahead. X’rhun blinks again as the wall of text springs up in his vision. ]
Age before beauty then? Very well. Do try to keep up, boy.
[ His companion looses a pair of bullets and releasing their cover with a shrill whistle. As the steam clouds above them, X’rhun takes a side step off their little platform, feet and hands sticking fast to the side of the building. Quick as you please, he begins his descent. He makes it look easy, all feline grace carried on powerful Miqo’te limbs. ]