trans_9 | "Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating..." (Part 4: The Best-Laid Plans)

Getting angry wasn't going to help. Dick had his training to fall back on in that respect, at least.

"I didn't allow my crew mates to be branded," Dick said, narrowing his eyes slightly and unable to quite keep a growl out of it. "They were pulled aside, the same as other members of the crew at the same time. It didn't occur to me that any group was different from the others.

"It probably should have. But it didn't click until we learned more about this planet and the government."

Then the rest of it sunk in and Dick stared before his brain kicked in. "What's the casualty report like? Are our people safe? What of the others? The staff and other guests?" Another moment, then, "And how can we be certain that you weren't behind it? You talk about not trusting us, but you've not exactly given us reason to either trust or believe you, either."

Lash also had her training to fall back on, but HA HA HA keeping her cool wasn't how she usually reacted. Still she was marvelously calm (were you taking notes about her behavior, Dick), grating her teeth and looking more like an angry, wild animal that was all bark and no bite. When she spokes it was polite, well thought out and-

"Hey, HEY! News check for you, moron." Okay, none of those things, really. It hadn't taken too long for her to throw all her interrogation training out of the window, and just flare up at his words. "We actually asked what to expect before we went down on the planet and the details were kept vague to us as much as possible. They distracted us while they did the branding. What, did you honestly really think we'd be the type to waltz over here and let some of our crew be pissed off for no reason? Yeah if you thought that, you're just as stupid as you look. And I sure as hell am not going to thank someone like you for tying me up and hoping we'd be happy to join your cause, idiot. And one more thing-" she took a pause to catch her breath, her eyes narrowing even more at him. Somehow.

"-Dick's right. How do we know you didn't cause the explosion? Oh look at me, I'm Guy Fa-Fal--Fasomethingorother and I'm pointing a gun at a bunch of captives, twitching possibly thinking they'd be afraid of me. Man, it sure is a good reason because I'm hoping they'll all just suddenly want to join my cause and together we'll put down the government, give it to THE MAN, down with the system and then we can all be happy and free and bunnies."

Dick you could stop taking notes. Actually, just forget about this part, okay?

"You're just lucky I've been asked to be good on this trip." Idle threats that were probably not very truthful but heck if they didn't make HER feel better. That and knowing everyone was safe did keep her from continuing her stream of insults as she got quiet again.

"Your planet sucks."

Lash: the world's worst diplomat.

Edited 2011-07-13 23:38 (UTC)

Zetta will just let Lash's venom hang there for a moment.

While he appreciated it.

"I'd like to state for the record that I didn't blow up a damn thing, and I'd like my freaking medal now," he said for general consumption. "Look, if you think this is the best way to win us 'influential' people over to the cause, you might want to, oh, I don't know, think? You're not preventing us from betraying you! You're just making it more likely to happen later! Our damn group spent I don't know HOW long yelling about people getting kidnapped and branded against their will, and now you think kidnapping MORE of us is somehow going to inspire us to put aside our differences of opinion and unite behind your glorious freaking banner of revolution?!"

Despite being restrained, the book could get amazingly animated while ranting.

"Either you extend some trust or you don't. Whether you do or you don't, you're wasting our time and yours with this whole Master Villain I Have You Now My Pretties routine."

A young man walked into the room. He had a scar and a scowl on his face.

Silently, he walked over, deftly removed the gun from Guy's hands, careful to point the muzzle away from the group as he did it in case he accidentally let off a shot, then proceeded to slap Guy upside the head.

"You! Are! An imbecile!"

Either this anger of his was real or he deserved an Oscar.

"Can you fire someone from a resistance? Is that allowed? Because if so, it's an option I'd like to explore. What were you thinking? I explained how our guests were to be treated, and I trusted you to handle this with some--some moderation for once!"

"What would we have to gain by killing any of you? By blowing up a hotel? Nothing. We-"

Guy was stopped by Moses grabbing his gun and slapping him. He rounded on the man immediately. "What the hell are you doing, Moses? You know what happened last time we were so trusting. You remember the ones that got killed. I'm not about to let that happen again."

"You're also not going to get them to listen to a word we say. And look at them. Look at who we're dealing with here, with these people. Superboy, Fate T. Harlaown, Gaignun Kukai Jr.--from classic clone media--Nightwing, even Power Rangers. They say anything's possible with the Bleed, that everything's real somewhere, and here some of them are in the flesh. Real. Real people. People that might help us or at least not harm us if we just talk to them."

Guy crossed his arms over his chest, "Might. We don't know for sure, and we can talk to them just fine like this. If they're really willing to even consider helping us, they should understand the safety precautions we have to take."

"Right, except for that part where all anyone understands when they're being held at gunpoint is that they might get shot."

Guy opened his mouth as if he was about to continue his argument, but then he closed it, and scowled. Moses had him there.

The expression on his face was a strange one. There was anger, yes, but a bit of sadness, and frustration. It was obvious from his bitter tone, when he did speak, that arguments were a very common thing between them.

"Alright, fine, we'll do it your way. I sure as hell hope you're right about them."

There was a similar expression on Moses' face. It hinted at the fact that they both didn't seem to want to be arguing with each other.

Moses turned to the captured party.

"My name is Moses, I'm the leader of this outfit, and as such, you have my deepest apologies for your treatment."

Slinging the gun over his shoulder so it was no longer pointed at them, he tapped a few keys on the controls, and suddenly they were free of the restraints.

"You were meant to be treated as guests here, but my lieutenant is...not the most trusting. And seems to think my orders are open to creative interpretation."

A rueful glare was directed Guy's way.

"I can answer any questions you have, but to answer the ones you asked as I was walking in: Casualty reports say two hotel guests dead, unfortunately--but none of them your crew. Either we have the rest--and they're fine, I just spoke with some of them and you'll get to after we've talked--or they were still back at the hotel and reported into the authorities alive. No, we didn't cause the explosion--we ported as many of you out as we could earlier than we planned to try to keep you from getting blown up as soon as we got wind of the attack from one our our contacts. The government did it, likely to try to kill some of you and turn the others against us. No, we can't prove it, because our only proof is that we know we didn't do it, and said contact who is one of our people, but they can't prove it was us, either. I'm hoping--somewhat desperately, at this point--that you'll believe me after we've talked for a bit and given our side of the story."

[ooc: Back to your regularly sheduled posting order, starting with Nightwing.]

The exchange was interesting and definitely told Dick some about how things worked here. It also made him unexpectedly homesick. Or, actually, Stacy-sick.

The moment the bonds were released, Dick got to his feet smoothly. "Actually, I'm reminded of one of my brothers." It seemed so much like some of his conversations with Jason back on the ship. "I think, if I'd allowed myself to hope and been betrayed as many times as you guys seem to have been, paranoia might be expected." He'd seen that chase of emotions a few times too many himself, after all.

He nodded at the casualty report, taking a breath. "I'd introduce myself, but you seem to already know quite a bit about our people. Including our stories, it would seem." He'd named 'classic clone media', after all. "I can only promise to hear you out myself, Moses. I won't make any promises for the others that you've brought here, however many that may be." Moses had said that they'd teleported as many as they could, after all. "Nor can I make any promise of aid."

Though he would like to. Dick's gut felt this was truer than what they had seen before from the council. But there was still a lot that they didn't know and he couldn't put the crew out there when so much was unknown as yet. "Could you bring us to the others?"

As soon as the restraints fell away, the book fell face-first to the floor with a heavy thud. After a moment of horrified indignity it began to flop ineffectually.

The Doctor reached over and righted the talking book...thing. Grumpy fella, wasn't he? He even dusted him off, how about that! Doing what he could to make sure he was comfortable -- however you were supposed to make a book comfortable in the first place was one of those new, interesting things -- the Doctor brushed himself off, fiddling with his bowtie and straightening it.

"Much better!" the Doctor held up his freed wrists.

This was generally how he liked it to go -- everyone keeping their heads (Fawkes aside), and there didn't really need to be ropes or dank underground caverns and okay, so maybe Moses here was still set on his cave, but at least they could see agree on the no ropes thing.

"Now," the Doctor said. He got to his feet and it wasn't quite like Dick -- it was a bit more wobbly, all knobby knees and legs. He adjusted his jacket and glanced over at Dick. Dick, it seemed, was proving himself to be a reasonable human and not in the Rory Williams Leadsworth-y way, either. The Doctor could see why he'd taken it upon himself to speak for the group, a small smile crossing his face. "He's right. Listening, we can do that. Have a listen, work from there. Possibly come up with a Thing."

Lash's first thought was go make a run for it and kick Guy in the nuts, consequences be damned. She had wanted to scream GET ON WITH IT as they two bickered away, but never seemed to find a proper window for it, interested in the words they were saying to each other.

Classic Clone Media?

As the binds were free, she stood up, ready to do the deed when Zetta fell down with a loud thump. As she looked over to him, about to help, the Doctor did it for her. She stood next to Zetta afterward, silent and that was thankfully enough to break the spell of her first (admittedly very, very, very poorly thought out) plan. But damn right if Dick wasn't speaking for the others. Lash spoke for herself and she didn't trust these guys at all. This could just be a beautiful mind-game of good cop and bad cop for all she knew. Didn't really care for those poor saps there were there at the wrong place and the wrong time. Casualties happened in any war. It was just more important when it was people she cared about.

She still had a beef with Guy and heck, as nice as Moses might be, it wasn't going to save him from her immature outbursts. Truthfully, however, Lash felt like there was a lot to gain and loose from this. On both sides.

"Okay then. Talk. But don't let him..." she pointed at Guy, "speak more than you." She stuck out her tongue at the man before continuing. "If you can't give me proof, then I can't trust you completely." The wunderkind crossed her arms, thinking.

"Sides, you might seem like the victims right now, but what's to stop you in the future? Suppose we did believe you and that we'd help you fight the government. Suppose you do topple it. What are your plans then? Do the clones take over and suddenly those without a mark are the ones who are oppressed? I've seen it happen before." She scratched her left arm before continuing. "You know the saying, right? The road to hell is paved with good intentions." And then a quick subject change as it entered her mind again. "Also what's up with the classic clone media? What does that even mean?"

Edited 2011-07-15 17:17 (UTC)

Zetta muttered something that was absolutely not a thank you.

Then he shot a glare at his comrades. "Wait, seriously? Good-cop bad-cop is the oldest trick in the book and here you guys are buying it like it's Two-for-One Tuesday at H.&R. Pringer's Succubus Rentals. What the hell, guys."

His gaze turned towards this Moses guy, not that it was easy to tell considering he had no pupils. "I'm a demon. I don't care about tough guys and I don't buy nice guys. You want to start convincing me I should help you, I expect a freaking mountain of reasons and some pretty shameless bribing before I help you start making sure all the Sneeches on the beaches now have stars upon thars."

He hadn't Invited a host of minions to rampage and demolish. This was as close to a peaceful overture as Zetta was really able to get, after what he'd just been through.

Moses answered Dick's last question first. "Yes, and we'll let you all come back again before too long. We've found it's easier to speak with smaller groups at a time, both to answer questions and to let everyone be heard."

Even if what was heard didn't fall in line of what he felt they so desperately needed. "Hearing's what we can ask for. It's a chance, and we don't get all that many of those. As far as being the nice guy..."

"If nice men start revolutions, it's not nice men or thugs who truly followed through on them." His smile was brief and wan. "I'm afraid the convincing will only be in what I can say. We can help get you in contact with what you're here for, if you choose to work with us."

"By now I'm sure you're aware of the way of things on Galilee with clones. We're granted short lifespans, specific skill and memory sets, stunted IQs. This all seems to have lasted the last five thousand years, with a few upgrades," there was something heavy in his voice as he said that word, "And slight changes to the system until we ended up with the one we have now."

"Ten years ago was the first big shake up in the system. Late life clone memories were uploaded into the Mother Brain, processed and placed into clones in all known classes. It sped up the process of self discovery, something that usually happened near the end of our lives. Starting younger means more time to think, to act on our own. To be something more than what we're designed to be."

He motioned to Lash. "There's no one simple step. The public doesn't need to be kept in the dark anymore than they already are. We want to tell them about the reality and show their governments role in some of the attacks we've been blamed for in the last two years. We're working on that, and have been for some time. It's not what we'd ask from any of you."

He paused, less for effect and more to gage reactions across the room. "We're very close to being able to launch another memory dump into the Mother Brains. There's only so much damage control the government can do at any one time, especially without calling a total shut-down they can't afford." His lips twitched, another not-quite smile. "It's one of the problems in having a workforce that needs constant renewal. They're constantly being renewed."

Guy shot a very dangerous look at Lash, "What we want is equality, not superiority. Why the hell would we want to risk them turning against us in the future, and continue the cycle? We're not stupid."

"Ensign." Invoking the title was probably going to be enough to remind Lash that she was on probation, still. Of course, she hadn't actually gone up and hit anybody. Dick sort of figured that was a win at this point. "You've forgotten what Lex said. They are, at best, ten percent of the population. It would be difficult for them to take complete hold of the government, never mind keep it." Not impossible, no. Anybody who was smart enough could manage it. But they were talking about a people who had been designed with a shortened lifespan. Even if they managed, the short lives would make it even harder to keep control.

Dick frowned at Moses and Guy. "What evidence do you have that the government is behind the bombings that your group hasn't done? Are there likely to be other, more militant arms of the resistance?" That had been one of the theories, after all. "Even if we can get the word of your story out, most people aren't going to be moved without more proof."

It was, unfortunately, a sad fact of life. One that he thought Moses had come to a while ago. The man seemed intelligent, after all. He vaguely wondered what job Moses had been meant for. Not that it mattered. Anybody who thought the clones couldn't outgrow their programming had obviously never really met one.

He considered the plan for a moment. "The story the government tells is that the memories were implanted into the Mother Brains by a regular scientist." It only took a moment for him to think of why. "Because they want to perpetuate the idea that the clones are too dumb to be able to consider a plan like that without help from a 'real' person." The quotes were obvious. Dick himself didn't consider them any less real than the standard humans on the planet.

"You may want to work into your considerations the fact that they've taken DNA samples from all of us." Which included the new folks, he was pretty certain. "There are several powered individuals in the group. I have no doubt that the government will put that to use if they can."

"Sir," Lash replied with a tiny hint of vitriol into it, her eyes moving back from Guy to Dick. "Ten perfect of a population is more than sufficient enough where I come from. In fact, Black Hole never had a defined territory, we just conquered as we went along. Equality sounds good on paper and heck, even if I gave these two the benefit of the doubt..." she lingered on Guy again, narrowing her eyes, "doesn't mean those after them won't try it. Especially now that they've mentioned they can implant memories into themselves. Could be argued that they might have short lifespans, but technically if they can keep it going and going and going, it's immortality."

In the end, the wunderkind shrugged. "Could be argued the other way too, I guess. Regardless, I don't trust you yet, noble thoughts and everything, because it hits a little too close to home." She rubbed her elbow again. "Like I said, I know it happens all too often." Black Hole didn't rise to power mysteriously. Give those with dreams enough resources, power and brainpower and the results could be quite disastrous. "Especially with the good cop, bad cop routine." But she wasn't attacking or leaving. It was a sign that she still didn't mind listening and judging them some more, part of her thoughts admittedly simply thinking which of the two camps would allow them to walk away with the most goods...and what would end up with her destroying the most things.

She really wanted to blow up as many things as she could on this planet by now. Lash frowned when Dick mentioned the fact they might have developed clones of them. Not something she had wanted them to find out just yet (although they probably already knew), but he was the leader in this expedition. Hawke had said a bunch of pretty silly things too, so despite her rebel-like talk, she was still willing to listen to him. For now.

"Don't remind me of that. Urrgh. The last thing I'd want is a bunch of mes running around with my CO powers." No one wanted that. No one.

Ugh, why was the guy in charge just freakin' buying this? "Yeah, if an entire 10% rises, the 90% left isn't gonna all just pick up weapons and start fighting. They're mostly civilians and untrained people. They can't fight. 10% is more than enough to take over.

"And don't tell me that there isn't a pretty big chunk of clones that want to be on top. YOU might believe what you're saying," he said to Guy, though his tone certainly indicated just what he thought the chances of that were. "But I'll bet Hell to hamburgers that at least half your force wants to stomp down the non-clones, brand them, and give them a taste of how the other side lived."

Then to Moses. "And you haven't given us anything! 'We can put you IN CONTACT with what you're here for'? That's a pretty far cry from 'we'll give you the medical technology you want'. As far as I'm concerned, you want help, you start spelling out exactly what we'll get and how you'll get it to us. We're not your freaking heroes. We have a price."

“Who said that? Did someone tell you that? That’s... highly inaccurate." Moses frowned.

"If that's what the government's told you, I don't know how they're explaining the constant revolving through for us while the average non-clone life stretches right up to a thousand years. The numbers don't add up. Can't support a whole society on ten percent of a back, not when they're slow to grow."

A slight pause, more for his benefit than theirs. "'Realie' population is controlled, they need to apply for special permits to have children. There's a lot of complicated genetic mapping that goes into the process before that can be approved. It’s why the Kappa’s exist. They can purchase a Kappa and have them for a few years. It’s cheaper and easier than going through the paperwork to produce a citizen child.”

"Proof is something we'll be lucky to get with time. As I said, the only thing we know for sure is it wasn't us. It's not the first attack we've been told was ours by the media that came as a surprise to all of us, too."

“We barely had time to react. If we hadn't already preparing to try to talk, we wouldn't have been able to react at all. One of our contacts on the inside was able to alert us to the fact it was happening with just enough time. Enough to keep casualties down." The honeymoon couple flashed through his mind again. It was painful, if an old sort of pain. "Last minute actions on all sides."

If this surprised him, Moses showed none of it outwardly. He did turn his palms up, showing their emptiness to the collective group. "Unfortunately, bringing that contact in to provide proof would lose them as a resource. They're caught up in reaction teams for now. In a week, maybe two, they'd be able to chat in person. Right now we can’t prove anything without putting them at greater risk than they already are.”

Dick had struck on a truth Moses was glad to hear, as a reminder of people who could see past what they'd been fed. This group of people, all of them, even doing nothing they'd done so much. They'd existed. They'd become real.

“Exactly. They want to people to believe our minds are childlike and unable to grow like anyone else's. Keep people believing we aren't dreaming of a future with lives of our own, unbound by what we are created for. We don’t want to rule. We want to live. We want a fair chance.”

As for the last concern, and also the first concern, he smile was temporarily grim.

“I knew they took DNA samples. I assumed some of your crew might be powered. How many of those are innate and how many are learned? With the aging process, the cloning could end up not simply a problem for us, but for you." Issues on how they, the CLF, could handle things were left unspoken for now. They were all smart enough. They'd be able to figure it out on their own.

Zetta's statement of buy us out was met with a nod. "You're both right and wrong. Some of you are our heroes. Not in the fight for us sense. Some of the deeper ones, people and ideas we look up to." Another smile, then back to that seriousness that knew Guy had really done them no favors in his actions. Still, it was done. "I say put in contact with, and I mean it. You know about the 'porting. Tell us what you're looking for, and we'll get you in touch with the people, our people, who can get you to the tech you're looking for. It's more literal. We give you the means, show you the way, and tell you what the government probably won't. What you choose to focus on and how you plan to get back on board your ship, that's something we leave up to you."

Guy's expression had not softened one bit, especially after Zetta had spoken about them having a price. Of course they'd have a price. They weren't clones, they weren't the ones being oppressed, why should they help if it didn't benefit them in some way? Even though they had clones as part of their crew, once they left the planet, they'd be fine. The clones stuck on Galilee didn't have that luxury.

Typical.

"We might consider helping you with the rest if you help us in return. We have a price too."

"Admittedly, it's the information that Lex was given. I hadn't had a chance to do more than look over it." Though, honestly, Dick had to admit that the ratio had sounded off at the time. He hadn't seen much of the city or the planet, but the idea of the population living lives of leisure and creativity with only ten percent of the population being a work force hadn't set right.

He should have said something at the meeting.

His mouth twisted into a wry grimace. "We're hardly going to be here in a week." With any luck. God, don't let them still be here in a week. "Doubtless our ship would try to stage a rescue by that point. Especially since the government is blocking communication. If we can't talk to your contact, though, I'd accept a chance to contact our people."

And then there was Zetta and his 'price'. Dick only just managed to avoid slapping his hand to his face. "At this point, Zetta, I'd say it's pretty clear that the government has no intentions of giving us what we want, either." He couldn't be the only one who saw that. "I don't doubt Lex will get as much as he can out of them, but by creating this 'act of war', the government has conveniently placed themselves in a position to get what they want from us without having to offer much in return. Just give our people a way to avenge us." He wasn't even sure who all was with them. "Oh, they'll hand over some technology, but what they want to give, not what we need."

And that was the rub. A chance at getting what they needed was better than maybe possibly getting something they could use via the government.

"You really do remind me of Jason," Dick said to Guy. "I'm still working out if that's a good thing or not." He liked Jason. That didn't mean he was always easy to take.

As much as he wanted to tell Zetta where he could stick his 'price', it wasn't just himself he had to think about. Alone, he could have let the price hang in favor of doing the right thing. But there was a ship that depended on their decisions here.

Still. "Not everybody has a price," he pointed out to Zetta. "Unfortunately, it's not my decision alone."

He wanted to do the right thing. For the sake of the ship, though, it might not be the same as what his heart insisted was right.

It did make more sense for the clones to have increased numbers, considering all she had seen during her visit. She could only remember Sturm calling the armies as his ants. Currently, they were in the hive, talking to its Queens (Lash what kind of analogy was that). How they dealt with them would probably dictate how their drones would respond. It was...a pretty horrible thought, but Lash had never been happy and sunshine anyway.

It just continued to draw more parallels in her old life. She crossed her arms, still standing next to Zetta, sighing, then looked at Guy and groaned. Leave it to Dick to want to play the big shot hero for them, but considering the cards they were being dealt with, at this point it was becoming more and more evident that the clones might offer them something the government didn't. If they weren't lying, of course. A fifty-fifty chance wasn't so bad. She decided to risk it.

"I've worked with clones before. Ours barely lasted a few weeks before their vitals stopped functioning and they degraded into little itty bitty chunks..." Maybe getting graphic in front of clones was a bad idea and she uncrossed her arms to be able to scratch the back of her head. "Anyway the point is, we learned at least that the powers I have are partly integrated into DNA stands, since cloning enemy CO officers allowed us to use them in our war effort. This could be a problem and..."

There was still something that irked her out of her mind, and talking about her life suddenly reminded Lash of it.

"--I...actually you know what? You mentioned that some of us are your heroes and you knew our names." Well not hers ~~how dare they she was totally famous right?~~, but she had a feeling Moses understood what she meant by it. "You mind explaining that?" It couldn't have been their contact, that still wouldn't explain the fact they considered them heroes part. He had mentioned Power Rangers. Zedd didn't come with a enemy tag attached to him, she didn't recall Dustin mentioning his credentials, and Lash had made damn sure to cover her morpher with her coat.

Something was amiss in this equation and she wanted to find out what.

Suddenly who was going to give them a better deal took a trip on the deal-with-it-later-until-this-mystery-is-solved side. At least as far as Lash was involved, and if they ignored her she was going to jump up and down until her question was answered.

~~Best diplomat.~~

Hey. They wanted to play good-cop bad-cop? Zetta's perfectly freaking willing to play villain to Dick's hero. Someone had to keep these conversation from turning into a bunch of would-be do-gooders slapping themselves on the back over how moral and righteous they were.

They didn't have a damn reason to believe a word these guys had said. Maybe the government caused the explosion, maybe they had. No reason these guys wouldn't say or do anything to get them on their side. Truth was they didn't have any information they could trust.

Which lead to another problem.

"Seems to me you're not exactly putting us in a fair bargaining position to begin with, since here we are in your secret mystery base. Let me guess. We refuse to help you, and we become the hostages you use to get the rest of the ship to help."

Seriously. Is Dick just not able to think like a person with limited moral scruples?

Edited 2011-07-19 00:40 (UTC)

no subject

Camille asked me for us to skip her for this turn

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Tagging one action, out of order, because this had to happen. Don't mind me. :)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject