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Entry tags:
- !location: planetside,
- !plot: send in the clones,
- daniel jackson,
- dustin brooks,
- eleventh doctor,
- gaignun kukai jr./rubedo,
- hana asakura,
- hit girl,
- howard bassem,
- ildraniath,
- jalith,
- kang,
- kanoe zouichi,
- kon-el,
- lash,
- lex luthor,
- lord zedd,
- lord zetta,
- nightwing,
- querl dox,
- rory williams,
- ruffnut thorston,
- sakura haruno,
- signum
Gently, but with undeniable will divesting myself of the holds that would hold me. (Pt. 5: Chances)
The plan was...well, it wasn't simple, but it sort of was.
While the CLF attacked multiple Clone Processing centers to distract the government, the group with the CLF would target one particular one in the region that'd once been New Jersey. The group with the government would offer their services in putting down their own people.
In the center, they'd split up into several groups. One would fight a fake fight, create a massive diversion, and blow up the room where the samples their DNA were being kept in the process. Another group would secure a teleporter pad. That team would teleport out other teams to steal a ship, steal some med tech to teleport to said ship, and steal a medical database. Another team would go to the main command center and hack into the government mainframe to down the sensornet around the planet so they could escape. And Nightwing himself would accompany the clones to upload the harvested memories to the Mother Brains, left unguarded because of the diversionary fighting, and make sure that was all they did.
Meanwhile, there'd be a standing order for all teams to avoid killing other crewmates, and avoid killing guards unless absolutely necessary.
It was a complicated plan. If a single part fouled up, they might find themselves dead, trapped, or worse. But if it worked, it'd work pretty spectacularly and leave them with medtech, a medical database, the clones helped, and possibly a grateful Council depending on how the fight went, because of the ones seemingly aiding the government.
In some worlds, things that were a million-to-one-chance (exactly a million-to-one) by their nature had to work. Let's hope this world is one of them, eh, mission crew?
[ooc: Only comment to threads if it says they are open here. All threads: OPEN. Characters may get injuries up to and including 7 on the Injury Scale (scroll to the bottom). Any higher, and they must ask permission of the plot-runners, just to make sure everyone isn't immobilized without enough people to help move them.]
While the CLF attacked multiple Clone Processing centers to distract the government, the group with the CLF would target one particular one in the region that'd once been New Jersey. The group with the government would offer their services in putting down their own people.
In the center, they'd split up into several groups. One would fight a fake fight, create a massive diversion, and blow up the room where the samples their DNA were being kept in the process. Another group would secure a teleporter pad. That team would teleport out other teams to steal a ship, steal some med tech to teleport to said ship, and steal a medical database. Another team would go to the main command center and hack into the government mainframe to down the sensornet around the planet so they could escape. And Nightwing himself would accompany the clones to upload the harvested memories to the Mother Brains, left unguarded because of the diversionary fighting, and make sure that was all they did.
Meanwhile, there'd be a standing order for all teams to avoid killing other crewmates, and avoid killing guards unless absolutely necessary.
It was a complicated plan. If a single part fouled up, they might find themselves dead, trapped, or worse. But if it worked, it'd work pretty spectacularly and leave them with medtech, a medical database, the clones helped, and possibly a grateful Council depending on how the fight went, because of the ones seemingly aiding the government.
In some worlds, things that were a million-to-one-chance (exactly a million-to-one) by their nature had to work. Let's hope this world is one of them, eh, mission crew?
[ooc: Only comment to threads if it says they are open here. All threads: OPEN. Characters may get injuries up to and including 7 on the Injury Scale (scroll to the bottom). Any higher, and they must ask permission of the plot-runners, just to make sure everyone isn't immobilized without enough people to help move them.]
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He didn't lower his gun.
"Aside from the clones suffering, other innocents would suffer, Guy. Innocents like Harriet. Innocents like we used to be. The Realies are goddamn fools, but there'd be riots in the streets. There'd be civil war, us vs. them. Just like they gassed batches and batches of us, we'd be doing the same to them--executing them."
There were some leaders that manipulated. That weren't as decent at heart as they seemed. Some of the crew had thought Moses was one of them, that he was playing tricks, that he had something sinister up his sleeve.
They'd been wrong.
The expression on his face was pained. "We're better than this. You're better than this. Step away, and we keep fighting this the right way. This can be a mistake that never happened nearly done in a moment of grief. Step away and things can be the way they were--but if one of us has to stop you, and you survive, it'll change everything."
The expression grew even more pained. "It'll change us."
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Wars, in Daniel's experience, tended to be won because either the resources ran out, moral (which could also be a resource, depending on who you asked) was so completely crushed that one side rolled over, or when there was literally no one left to fight. Sometimes any of those factors took days. Sometimes it took years. Worse, generations. By then, there was not much left to fight over.
"Or you can keep fighting until no one remembers what you're even fighting for," Daniel piped up. He couldn't actually predict what would happen, wars were never a cookie-cutter affair, they were about as unique as thumbprints or snowflakes, no war, no factors leading up to it or to their end was the same... but everything today looked like it was leading to the worst case scenario. "There's going to be death on every side, and the worst part is no one will remember why it's even happening. This could go on for generations. People will die for nothing. That's what going to happen if you don't search for alternatives."
Daniel lowered the gun, angled it away so it was more on the databanks than on the clone. Trying to talk someone down with a gun to their face, Daniel found, wasn't actually as successful a diplomatic tool as one might think. For one, it was just hard to think when you had one aimed between your eyes. There was a certain amount of trust you had to build up, and it had to start somewhere. Moses probably wasn't going to drop that gun anytime soon, but at least Guy had one less weapon pointing at him.
"The moment you program those clones to suit your agenda, you'll have trampled everything you're been fighting for," he continued "These clones are no more a blank slate than anyone else here. They're people. They deserve the chance to grow and develop like living beings, not act as convenient soldiers for your cause. You've no more right to do that to them than the Galilleans did to the rest of the clones."
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But he turned his attention back to Guy. "You may feel like the ends justify the means, but what if things don't go according to your plan? What if there's a conflict of programming, and people are attacked that shouldn't be? Like Harriet, or the rest of the clones? Would you be able to forgive yourself? You have no idea what'll happen if you do that."
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Instead he stepped up next to Daniel, pausing for a moment and studying the archeologist with a strange smile, putting a hand on his gun and pushing it down completely, pointing the weapon at the floor. No threat to anyone in the room. “Wait, Doctor Jackson.” And that word, that tangled word, that order from someone who knew exactly what they were asking, exactly what the price of waiting could be.
He looked at Dr. Henderson, eyes calm, shoulders relaxed, voice level. By all appearances, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Please. Both of you. Wait.”
It was a request for trust from two people who could alter everything. He needed these children to trust him, because the rawness of the emotion in this room was thick enough that any action could strike the powder keg building. “Conner, wait. Hold for just a moment, son.” He rested his hand on his good arm, completing a quick visual assessment and reminding himself to thank whoever the medic was that had looked after his son when he couldn’t be there. It wasn’t good, but Conner would live, and with life there was the potential for things to change.
“Moses, please wait. If you know me at all, if you know who I am, then listen to me. Lower your gun. There has been enough death today. We’re all sick of it. Please, all of you. Wait.” That word was a powerful thing, though deceptive, it took more strength than most people had to wait, to watch a coiled moment pass without interacting with it.
He knew what he was asking of them, knew exactly the cost if he failed.
He looked at the tanks, at the faces of the sleeping clones, at everything in the room first before finally, almost unwillingly, looking at Guy. He was human, here, gun holstered safely at his side, sword sheathed, and hands empty. The only thing he was armed with were his words, and the hand resting on Conner’s arm. If his son wanted to leave, he knew nothing he could do would make him stay. “You’ve uploaded the memories and now you’re uploading programming to order them to kill. That won’t work.” He shook his head. “Because the people you are creating, the memories you’ve given them, would never abide by such an order. Even now the agony of those who have been forced to watch themselves….” He shook his head, looking at Conner, eyes quiet, hand steady on his arm. “Conner, I know this is asking a lot of you, I know today has been more than enough to test even the best of us. But Conner, I need you to trust yourself.”
And that was it, no impassioned plea for Conner to see the way Guy thought or to capitulate, even Rory didn’t agree with a super powered army set to kill. But he could see what they didn’t, what nobody in this room was thinking of. Guy had uploaded the memories of the people who had come here, heroes, some of them. Others not so heroic, but all good people. All people who had done their best to avoid the killing behind them. How could anyone with those memories, with the memories of love and value and courage running around their heads be anything but good? What was needed here was not grand gestures, but little gestures. What was needed here was trust and the ability to have faith in themselves.
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In the end, what happened in this room happened because of his action or inaction. Even bullets could be stopped. He was hurt badly but he likely had at least one burst of speed in him and that was enough.
His expression was pained.
"Don't make this my choice. That's not fair."
He was just a teenager. He'd been branded and lost his hand and watched his clone die. There was no way he could make a rational decision right now, and it was much easier if what Guy was doing was wrong, letting him have the chance to step down, and stopping him if he didn't.
There were a bunch of people here. Let them decide. He'd just enforce whatever was decided was right.
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Guy laughed, turning to face the console. It was bitter, hollow. "There never was a chance for us. I'm a Beta; I only have a year left, if I don't get killed beforehand. You don't have much more. The likelihood of clones like us being able to transfer our memories to new bodies are slim to nil. When we're gone, we're gone.
All the Council has to do to win is stop production, destroy the processing plants. Most of us will die out within ten years. You think they won't do it, if they're desperate enough? To keep the power that they have, over both us and the Realies? That's all they care about. Power."
He went silent, listening to the others, back still turned. What were they fighting for in the first place?
Freedom. The ability to make their own choices. To be recognized as people, not something programmed to be used for whatever purpose.
The image of Harriet lying there, dying, flashed through his mind. She'd chosen to take that blast meant for Moses, entirely of her own volition.
Could he really take that away from somebody? Treat his fellow clones as the Council, and the Realies did?
His hand hovered over the key that would start the programming.
And then, it moved to his side, curling into a fist.
"We'll do things your way, Moses. I'll trust that you know what you're doing."
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"C'mere," he said quietly to Guy.
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It seemed like someone had gotten through to him, because Guy didn't make any motion towards the computer. Keeping the gun down, Daniel kept his mouth shut and stood by, making sure to keep very still. As long as no one made any sudden moves or did the wrong thing, like spooking Guy, he was sure this could be solved peacefully.
He waited.
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He gave every outside appearance of being calm and level, controlled and contained despite his injuries. Only his son probably in a position to notice just how tightly wound he was, just how exhausted he was and how mentally strained and in pain he was. The other Time Lord had left his heart racing and his head aching, and there was still blood seeping slowly from his nose. After this, he probably wouldn't stay on his feet for much longer, his body just wouldn't take it.
It was strangely almost a relief to feel so deeply and truly exhausted. To know that sleep was in fact a possibility once they returned to the ship. But not right now, right now he needed to speak, to find the words.
"I'm not putting it on you, Conner. He sighed, voice a whisper, looking up at his son, trying to get him to understand what he saw. It wasn't quite the big picture, it wasn't what Moses was seeing. "They have our memories now, they're alive, simply sleeping. If they aren't woken up, if no one tells them they're allowed, then they'll just be lambs here, children waiting to be murdered in their beds. Because the government doesn't want them to have our memories. Imagine someone knowing what you know now, the life you've led. Imagine trying to tell that person their purpose in life is to build a fountain or make food their entire life. To be a slave and a servant. If I can see it, so can they."
It wasn't a desire to manipulate, it wasn't a want to turn Conner's head and influence him, it was the understanding that if his son opened his eyes for a moment, then he would see that he was one of the few in the room with a valid choice in this. "I'm not asking you to raise an army, Conner. That's not what they are. That shouldn't be what they're meant for. All I'm asking you to do is trust yourself." He paused, looking at his son, and then turning to look at the tanks once more. "We can't stay. We knew that from the start."
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"What if we woke them up without the programming? Delete it. No programming telling them to be slaves, no programming telling them to join the CLF or kill people. Just the basics they need to be people, like walking and dressing themselves and and all that."
He turned and looked at the others, his gaze piercing.
"I had just the basics. The control programming in me didn't kick in until later and then I overthrew it, but in the beginning, it was just the basics, and I was a person. I made my own choices, my own mistakes. That way they won't get wiped out in their sleep, and that way no one's controlling them either--and the government can't program in more control stuff to compensate for our memories later. Forget an army, forget violence, that's enough to do a civil disobedience thing. That's a Million Clone March right there. And the thing is, instead of forcing them, Moses, you can just ask them to do it. They're going to wake up eventually anyway--why don't we do it now, and just ask them to help and to not hurt anyone doing it?"
They were already made, already living beings. So why not just wake them up early and see if they wanted to change their world? See if they were willing to do it without violence--the more of them there were, the better their chances at doing it without as much violence.
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Moses shook his head. "But that many at once... we wanted to have them released as they were normally released, gradually win them over and build up a solid enough base for a mass resistance. To have it happen all at once--it's a complete wildcard. It might be enough for passive resistance. Protests. But we don't know what they'd do either--what'd they'd choose. It'd be leaving things entirely up to hope."
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Daniel felt now was the time to speak up again, especially since Guy had very much moved away from the console and now that he definitely seemed more willing to listen. "I think that's the point of it in the end. You're leaving it up to fate, environment and the individual, which is more than you were ever offered. Neither of you can decide, or predict, how everyone will react to their own people's history when they learn it and that's what you're giving them. A chance to choose for themselves."
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"You wanted us to help you. We can't stay. But right now is the best chance you're ever going to have for having this. Leave them here and they'll be changed or killed. Take them with you, and you might have to convince some of them. It's a very real possibility you will. But we decided for you in the end, didn't we?"
He swallowed, tasting blood, one hand coming to his ribs as quietly and subtly as possible. A few were broken, he knew that. Normal human in super-powered combat? It just wasn't going to work out that the normal human came through without a scratch. But he needed to speak. He needed to stay on his feet.
"Those memories you took? I believe in those people."
He believed in his son, and he believed in the Doctor, he believed in Sakura and Nightwing. He believed in Kang, even, though he wouldn't mention that. Because Kang wouldn't be bothered by blowing things up. Himself? Well, maybe not. But he believed in them. He believed that they could help see this world into a better tomorrow.
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He took a few deep breaths, leaning against the console, looking back at Moses.
"You picked the name 'Moses' on purpose, didn't you. Well, it's time to step up and lead your people to the promised land. Take out the programming, wake them up, and hope."
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"I'm removing the programming, giving them only the basics."
He shook his head.
"This is crazy."
Could they do it? All at once? Could they do it right all at once?
Whatever the case, they had to try.
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At least he wasn't going to have to delivery babies right in the middle of a war zone. That was a plus.
He just hoped they were doing the right thing by doing it at this time.
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It was done, it was over. There part of it was done.