(Addressing: Everyone)
There's a screeching, thrumping, bass-heavy sound echoing through the holo-suite gym. It's music, of a kind. Protector Chief Davids was stationed at the Meeting Place after they withdrew the protectors-
his protectors- from Zeta, and he's listened to nothing but "death metal" since. Really, he doesn't even like it. But it gives a focus for the unwanted old thoughts that keep pumping through his head. If you turn the music up loud enough, and you hit a punching bag hard enough and work yourself halfway to exhaustion, you can almost stop thinking. Almost.
He strikes the punching bag another time, all of his weight and height thrown into it, and for a moment he feels triumphant again. But then he collapses forward and has to grasp the bag to stay steady, and his mind is filled with things he's trying to forget- blood and gore, and smashing a face into the pavement, and splitting a civilian's skull on New Hollywood, and sitting in his chair on the
Memory listening to protectors screaming for help, far below on the surface of Zeta, facing an enemy they can't just grind into dust like they could the people of New Hollywood, and nobody wants to help, and there's nothing anyone can do, and someone needs to pay for this, and-
Thump. Thump. Thump. He can hear his heart beat. It's louder than it's supposed to be, he thinks. So he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries not to think at all. It takes several minutes to steady himself.
There's another sound in the holo-suite, besides the metal and the heartbeat. The 'announcement' from Envoy Christensen is playing at a volume to be heard over the music. Why is he talking like that?
Maybe, if, maybe, we don't know- say what you came to say, you little-
And then Davids has to stop again, because his heart is threatening to jump out of his chest. He's so angry. He doesn't even know when he started being this mad, but it's gone on so long now that it feels like a part of him, and he can't hate it anymore. He wakes up mad. He's hurt so many people.
The Envoy is talking again, and he's saying things that makes Davids want to hurt him, too. The words aren't specific at this point. Davids can only hear half of them, if even that. His mind is filled with something like a rushing sound, that makes it hard to focus or hear anything. But what he understands makes it worse. "Declare war."
Davids closes his eyes tighter than before, and bites the inside of his cheek. He remembers protector training, the way they conditioned him, and he remembers all the things he did afterwards sharper than anything else. There's something wrong with his mind. He can barely recall his own name sometimes, but every remembered action of violence is crystal-clear like the best holo-suite money can buy. They play through his mind on loop. It feels like a punishment.
He clenches his teeth so tight that the inside skin of his cheek bursts open, filling his mouth with blood. War. Memories. The
Memory. Envoy Christensen. And the Earth-damned Zetans.
Thump. Thump. Thump.He opens his eyes. He knows what he needs to do.
~~~~~~~~
(Starring: Heralds)
It's getting worse.
From his high window, Heralds can see the entire city of Neo Jerusalem- the new, small "capital" of New Hollywood. It's not a colorful place. It's not a loud place. It's not a bright, musical or fun place. It's the kind of place that Heralds likes; which is nothing, nothing at all like the rest of New Hollywood. The predominate colors are gray and brown. Most of the buildings have been left in their original designs, clearly still Bezian: squat, wide compounds with doorways that five men could enter together, if they're all willing to duck. It doesn't seem made for humanity.
But look, there the humans are, crowding into the large boulevard-like streets, many of them holding signs. Heralds didn't intend to read them, but his eyes still do as soon as they flick over the lettering, spotting messages of "Send our protectors home!" and "We won't go!"
He came here to get away from this. It was the entire point of moving the bureaucratic out here to the wastelands. But the discontents followed them, all the way from the streets of Neo London, and New Beijing- currently reigniting its old revolutionary fervor. They aren't very organized yet, thankfully, but they're getting there. There's a troublesome woman who's near to becoming a leader: Martina Ward. One of the Mixtists, and according to police files, a repeat offender when it comes to her anti-Earth activities. She'll need to be dealt with, soon, before she's big enough to be a martyr. Timing is vital. Timing is everything, always.
Heralds turns his back on the still-growing crowd, and goes to planning.
~~~~~~~~
(Starring: Andrei)
Andrei is a little surprised to see a robot here, and for a moment remembers that awkward meeting with the Zetans that already feels like a lifetime ago. But hey, he's only, like, forty percent as drunk now as he was that day. So perhaps he'll avoid insulting an entire species and possibly, maybe, indirectly causing an intergalactic war.
Perhaps. Clad in his usual white shirt and slicked back hair, the Dis-Count Dracula makes no promises.
The odds of conflict do seem to be going down, though, as the little robot leads him through corridors of the Lorne vessel. It doesn't seem threatening at all. Not much like a warform, or a cyborg. More like an Old Earth 20th Century printer, adding wheels and a personality. If this is what the Lorne like to do, well, they could be much worse.
The machine deposits him in what looks like a rec-room or a bar, and he can't help but say "Thanks, little guy," to which it replies with happy trills. He turns and smiles to his host in the same moment, already trying to figure out how he's meant to do damage control here: he heard a snippet of the broadcast as he was coming onboard, and knew the war just took a turn for the worst. But really? Maybe it's for the better.
How can he continue to do without security guards?
"Nice to meet you," Andrei says, guard-less, to the Lorne woman. "As mentioned, I am Andrei Fedorov, an 'Oligarch' from the ECU, but don't let that title fool you, we're not all stuffy rich men."
We're cool rich men, he thinks, and laughs out loud in a friendly way. "I'm sure you've heard the drama going down on the station right now, but I'm not here to talk about all that. I think the ECU and your people could have an opportunity coming up..."
~~~~~~~~
(Addressing: Everyone)
Thump, thump, thump again. Is it nerves, or something worse? Davids' heart has been having trouble for years now. Too much fat, too much stress, the doctors wanted to replace it- but he won't let them. That's what Bodi did, and look what happened to him. Davids is going to go down with his own flesh still beating inside him, and he's going out with a bang.
His thoughts are getting stranger, as he gets closer to his goal. More primitive. Right now, there's nothing in his head about Zeta or Oligarchs or the ECU, or pain or blood or killing. He only feels the Meeting Place floors under his feet, and the cold gun in his hand. There's nothing else left anymore. He knows what he's going to do. He couldn't tell you why, in Old English or any other tongue, but his heart knows it. Maybe that's why it's hurting and beating so hard.
He's out of the ECU doors, he's shoved confused little diplomats out of the path, he's forced his way through restricted areas with speed and threats, and now he's finally approaching him. Envoy Christensen is still there, good. Davids is going to do this. They won't let the protectors do anything anymore, they're not good enough anymore, but this is the one thing he knows, and he's going to do it. The Chief reaches for his gun...
~~~~~~~~
(Starring: Tanaka)
Tanaka is having a rough day. A lot of days are rough, on the Meeting Place, but this one especially. That horrible announcement from the Xandalians comes out, and he's going to be the one expected to do damage control. Nobody has told him that, exactly, but he's sure it's true. He's the Liason. Why would Heralds make him Liason if this wasn't his job? It's only lucky he was wearing an ear piece, or he wouldn't have heard the broadcast at all.
He excuses himself quickly away from his talk with the Aurigan diplomat (nice people, he thinks, but this takes priority) and practically runs across the station. He only stops for the sake of picking up one thing from the ECU section: a hovering camera bot. It's a beautiful little device, designed to float behind you and record interactions with others. Then the footage can get sent back to the boys at New Hollywood to get spun into- well, into propaganda. But it's for a good cause, right? And Tanaka wants to help. Heralds has put a lot of faith in him. He's going to make the best propaganda ever!
He's approaching Christensen now, his camera bot faithfully floating behind him, ready to record Tanaka's most elegant defense of the ECU. He already has it planned. In ten minutes, he expects to have the Xandalians formally apologizing to the Cultural Unio-
Wait. What is that?
In the corner of his eye, Tanaka spots a familiar face, and then a familiar, hulking frame. What is Chief Davids doing here? He's not, technically speaking, even allowed off of the ECU segment. And what is that in his hands?
Oh. Oh no.
"Stop!" is all the Liason can think to shout. But Daniels only spares him a single, unfocused glance. His hand is at his gun, drawing it from the holster. This can only be one thing. "Stop!," Tanaka shouts again. Why, by Earth, isn't he listening? All protectors listen to Oligarchs! But the fat man now has the pistol firmly in hand, he's staring down Christensen like a hunter does a deer, he's beginning to raise the weapon-
And in that split-second, Tanaka's mind (as always) being full with images of cowboys and shoot-outs and valiant stands, makes a decision. He has had a small pistol with him for much of his time on the Meeting Place, technically for emergencies, but mostly because its holster goes with his hat. He can't even remember if it's loaded. But his hand grasps it quickly, draws it fast, and takes aim at the protector.
Who is faster with a gun than a pampered Oligarch, as it turns out. Davids twists suddenly, and instead of shooting for Christensen, loads three bullets into Tanaka before he can fire once. He falls backwards, not feeling the pain yet. Only the shock. Tanaka, the rich young man wishing he were a cowboy, never honestly imagined something bad could happen to him.
His camera bot eagerly records the entire transaction. When they go over footage later, it will be seen that Davids then twisted back to try shooting Christensen in the same way. Luckily for the Envoy, the Xandalians are made of sterner stuff than baseline humans, and he rushes Davids fearlessly. It's close quarters combat, fast and hard to capture, but Christensen pins Davids at last against a wall, and under the strain of this fistfight, his heart seems to finally overtake him. As teams rush in to try saving Tanaka, Davids collapses, red-faced, clutching to his chest, and does not stand up again.
~~~~~~~~
(Starring: Abadi)
"
How do we spin this?" The voice on the transmitter asks. Abadi laughs bitterly.
"How can we? One of our men tried killing another nation's diplomat. We're lucky they don't all declare war on us."
"
Don't be such a defeatist. It's all in the optics. Look, listen, here's what we'll say. Davids wasn't acting on behalf of the ECU-"
"That's true enough."
"
And, and, he had traumatic stress or somethin' from fighting the Zetans. Say they captured him and tortured him real bad. He went nuts, maybe he was even brainwashed. And then focus on Tanaka. Say he was a hero, who tried to save that, uh, that Xandie whoever even when he was talking about declaring war on the ECU."
"Make it all about Tanaka? Really?"
"
Yeah, he'll be our, whaddya call it, our martyr. He took a dozen bullets tryin' to defend a fellow human. Hey, 'cause the ECU stands for humanity, right? And it's not our fault the Zetans drove Davids crazy."
Abadi fights the temptation to correct that Davids probably never fought a single Zetan, or that Tanaka isn't a martyr when he's not technically dead yet. He's in the ECU section, under guard, with their only doctor looking over him. The prognosis isn't good. He might well be a martyr by the end of this, but Abadi isn't going to call him that before she has to.
Poor man.
"Ugh," she answers the man on the transmitter. "Fine. I'll get that viewpoint circulated. You can tell Heralds it's being taken care of."
"Hey, then why all the grump, darling? We're the good guys here."Abadi looks out of her office window, across the hall, to where Tanaka is fighting for his life. "Are we?"
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