Author Topic: One Nation, Under Watch  (Read 2372 times)

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Offline Tytor

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One Nation, Under Watch
« on: January 25, 2020, 06:50:10 AM »
Part 1

New Providence, FCD
Federal Republic of Centralia
January 24, 2020 - 11:30 AM


The alleyway looked completely deserted.  Of course it did; this was uptown New Providence, the heart of a residential neighborhood.  The authorities didn't like it when people congregated in alleyways, so the cops made regular sweeps every few days.  The streets were kept mostly free of such ordinary fixtures as gangs, panhandlers, and pickpockets, but many of the city's citizens half wished that they weren't.  The "security" of Centralian society had come at the cost of much of the nation's liberty and privacy, to the point that raids by Homeland Security and the police had become more or less the norm, and everyone knew someone who'd been arrested for something.  Matt glanced over his shoulder as he and Parker stepped into the narrow space.  He couldn't help it, really; the neighborhood was almost too tidy for comfort.  Still, this was where Parker's contact in Anonymous had said to meet, and Parker insisted on not going alone.

"Think he's here, Parker?" Matt asked tentatively.

"'Course he's here, Grasshopper," Parker said in what he clearly intended to be a casual tone, "He wouldn't just bail on us."

Matt thought Parker sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone, but he thought it prudent not to point this out just now.  "Well, I guess he's good at hiding, then," he said instead.

"Must be," Parker replied, a bit more worry showing through his facade.

The pair continued down the alley, pausing every few steps or so to check for cops and the like.  Matt started to wonder whether Parker even knew what his contact looked like; after all, the two had originally met online.  Just as he was gathering the courage to ask, however, they passed a trash can and someone or something hissed at them.

Parker whirled around.  "Who's-?" he started to say loudly.

Matt turned too, though more slowly.  There, behind the trash can, was a young woman.  She looked no more than a year or two older than Parker.  She gestured frantically for the pair to get down.

"Are you, um, LazerMuffin?" Parker asked uncertainly.

"Yes," the girl answered in hushed tones, "And you must be HeroOfRagnarok.  I expected you to be taller."

Parker grinned.  "I'm Parker," he said, "My friends call me Stingray."  Matt hastily turned a derisive snort into a coughing fit; after all, Parker's friends never called him Stingray.

"Charity," the girl replied, extending a hand.  Parker shook it.

"Charmed," Matt said dryly, "Now, could we get on with this?"

"Of course," Charity said, suddenly businesslike, "So, Parker.  You told me that you and your friends successfully pulled off a heist at Homeland Security, right?  You got proof?"

"Naturally," Parker said easily, "Wouldn't be here otherwise, now would I?"

"That remains to be seen," Charity commented, "And this proof is where, exactly?"

"Right here on this flash drive," Parker said, holding it up for all to see.  He was grinning as if he couldn't have said a wittier thing.

"Well, put it away, idiot," Charity hissed at him, looking for all the world like a bird with ruffled feathers.  Parker's grin faded.

"Sorry," he said, pocketing the flash drive quickly.

"If here isn't safe," Matt interrupted, "Maybe we should talk somewhere more, you know, private.  Do you have a safe house or something?"

"Yeah, something like that," Charity said, getting to her feet, "I'll take you there.  Did you drive?"

"We're parked down the street a ways," Matt said, waving in the general direction of their borrowed car.

"Great," Charity said, "Lead the way."
His Majesty Michael the First, by the Grace of God, King of Tytor and her Colonies, and Lord Protector of Floodwater

Factbook -- News -- Press Office

Former Governor-General of The Infinite Alliance
Former Ambassador to Albion and the Global Right Alliance
Former Vice Premier and Speaker of the Senate of the Independent Order
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"A witty saying proves nothing." - Voltaire

Offline Tytor

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Re: One Nation, Under Watch
« Reply #1 on: May 10, 2020, 01:00:10 AM »
Part 2

New Providence, FCD
Federal Republic of Centralia
January 24, 2020 - 1:06 PM


At Charity's direction, Parker pulled into the grungy parking garage.  Matt gazed nervously around at the graffiti and trash decorating the rundown building.  This was, well, very much not an affluent part of town.  Charity seemed to know what she was doing, though; as soon as everyone was out of the car, she strode straight for an elevator that looked like it hadn't been operable for years.  Despite its apparent disrepair, not to mention a large "out of order" sign, the doors opened almost silently in response to the code Charity punched into a keypad to their left.

"Get in," she said, businesslike once again.  Neither Matt nor Parker argued.

As the the elevator descended (how far or how quickly Matt couldn't tell), the trio stood in silence.  Parker fidgeted rather excessively, while Charity stared straight ahead, an unreadable expression on her face.  Matt wasn't sure what to think of his surroundings; the elevator itself was just as dilapidated on the inside as the doors had looked, yet it moved smoothly, almost like new.  He wondered if this was like those old Achkaerinese spy movies with the secret bases for the heroes, but then he realized that it didn't really matter.  What mattered was that eventually the elevator ride would end and Parker would get his audience with Anonymous; whether Charity would be the one doing the talking remained to be seen.  As he thought that, the elevator slowed to a stop, almost as if on cue.  The doors opened, and Matt, Parker, and Charity stepped out.

The room beyond the elevator was exactly like something out of a spy movie.  Two great big computer monitors dominated the back wall; one showed a bunch of security camera footage, while the other currently displayed a screensaver.  A flat screen TV was hooked up on the wall to the computer setup's left; CNTV was playing quietly.  A door on the right looked like it led to a restroom.  There were desks, mismatched couches and armchairs, a coffee machine, and even a large beanbag chair scattered haphazardly through the space.  The last of these held the room's only other occupant, a young man who looked like he was in his mid-twenties.  "'Bout time," the man said, and Matt immediately recognized his voice, though he couldn't quite place it, "Thought you'd gone and got lost on me."

"When have I ever let you down?" Charity retorted, arms folded.

"First time for everything," the man answered smoothly before turning his attention on Parker and Matt.  "Name's Dan," he said, rising from his seat, "Who're you?"

"Dan... Dan Beesley?" Matt asked in disbelief, "The radio DJ?"

"In the flesh," Dan said in a bored tone, "And you are?"

"Parker Jeffries," Parker said quickly, extending a hand, "And this is Matt Wilson."

"Wonderful," Dan said, though Matt thought he probably didn't mean it.  The DJ turned to Charity and continued, "Well, you know what to do.  Give me a shout if you need anything."

Charity nodded, and Dan flopped back into his bean bag chair.  Charity gestured wordlessly at the computer bank in the back of the room, and Parker and Matt followed her over to it.

"This, I assume, is where you learn whether I'm telling the truth?" Parker inquired wryly.

"Yep," Charity said, wiggling the mouse of the idle computer to wake it up, "So if you'd just put that flash drive of yours on the desk here, we can get started."

Parker complied, and Charity plugged it in.  She remained silent as she quickly scanned through the drive's contents, pausing here and there to open a file or two.  After what felt like at least an hour, but which was likely little more than a few minutes, she finally spoke.  "Hey, Dan, you'll want to see this," she called over her shoulder, "These guys're legit."

"I see it," Dan said.  Matt jumped slightly.  The DJ was right behind them; there was no knowing how long he'd been there.

"What do you think?" Charity asked, turning to face Dan.

"I think our friends upstairs will want to see this," Dan said, "I'll contact HQ tonight, ask 'em for instructions."  He looked Parker and Matt over, almost as if seeing them for the first time, and smiled.  "Good work, you two," he said, "This is quite the haul.  Y'all got this by yourselves?"

"Practically," Matt said, "Our friend Michael helped, but it was just the three of us."

"Kids these days," Dan said, chuckling, "Well, consider me impressed."

"Thank you," Parker said, seemingly taking heart from the compliment.

"Oh, and by the way," Dan continued, turning and starting toward the coffee machine, "Welcome to the resistance."
His Majesty Michael the First, by the Grace of God, King of Tytor and her Colonies, and Lord Protector of Floodwater

Factbook -- News -- Press Office

Former Governor-General of The Infinite Alliance
Former Ambassador to Albion and the Global Right Alliance
Former Vice Premier and Speaker of the Senate of the Independent Order
Professional Procrastinator

Non-partisan and proud of it

"A witty saying proves nothing." - Voltaire

Offline Tytor

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Re: One Nation, Under Watch
« Reply #2 on: July 26, 2020, 03:53:09 AM »
Part 3

New Providence, FCD
Federal Republic of Centralia
January 24, 2020 - 3:10 PM


Parker was on cloud nine all the way back to the apartment.  He was in such a good mood, in fact, that he didn't even complain when the neighbor they'd borrowed the car from decided to charge them for the privilege.  As they approached the apartment door, however, Matt noticed it was ajar.  He grabbed Parker's arm and nodded in the door's direction.

"What the--" Parker started to say, but Matt shushed him.  Maybe their meeting with Anonymous hadn't gone unnoticed after all; one way or the other, Matt didn't see the wisdom in alerting any unwanted visitors to their presence.

They continued up the hall more quietly, and Matt pushed the door open slowly enough to avoid the worst of the corroded hinges' squeaking.  The lights were off inside, and the shutters were closed, so the entire apartment was bathed in a kind of twilight despite the fact that it was still midday.  The two stepped over the threshold, and Parker swung the door back closed just as slowly as Matt had opened it.  As Matt's eyes adjusted to the dimness, he noticed a figure seated in one of the dilapidated armchairs in the apartment's main room.  At first, he thought it was Michael, and he almost called out a greeting, but then he realized the person was too tall and thin.  Besides, Michael was in New Eastland to visit his aunt.  It couldn't be Kale either, because he was attending a lecture and wouldn't be back for at least another hour.

Parker stiffened, which told Matt he'd noticed the stranger too.  Unlike Matt, Parker found his voice.  "Who're you?" he demanded, reaching for a light switch.

"Hold up there, son," the stranger responded, and Parker froze.  The stranger's voice was deep, obviously male, and resounding with projected authority.

"Who are you?" Parker asked again, arm extended toward the wall.

"Name's Korso," the strange man answered, "You two are Parker and Matt.  Come, sit."

It was odd being asked to sit in one's own home, but it didn't even occur to Matt to disobey.  Parker, however, put a hand on Matt's shoulder to stop him from walking further into the apartment.  "What do you want?" he asked, "And how do you know who we are?"

"That's a long story, son," the stranger said, "But if you'll at least lock the door before you flip that switch, I'll tell."

Cautiously, Parker reached behind him and jiggled the latch until it clicked.  Then he flipped the light on.  The stranger was lean and tall, with a wiry build.  His dark hair was accented by streaks of gray, and his brown eyes were piercing in the intensity of their gaze.  Matt was absolutely certain he had never seen the man before in his life, and by the way Parker's eyes narrowed, Matt was sure he thought the same.  Still, there didn't seem to be any danger.  Matt and Parker took seats on the sofa across the room from the older man.

"As I said," the latter continued, "My name is Korso.  I'm with the Sons of Liberty."

"The what?" Matt interrupted, confused.

"The Sons of Liberty," Korso said patiently, "We're a clandestine group of concerned individuals scattered throughout Centralian society who see the present domination of government by Lance Pullman and his Homeland Security and Patriot Party lackeys as something to be resisted.  We draw inspiration from the Founding Fathers and their resistance toward Tytorian rule during the Centralian Revolution.  There was a group called the Sons of Liberty back then too, in fact.  Anyway, we have a loose association with sections of Anonymous.  I know that's where you were today, because your contact got in touch with me.  I want to offer you a place in our organization."

Matt had a distinct feeling of getting in over his head, but Parker seemed completely convinced.  "So what do you do?" Parker asked enthusiastically, all of his previous apprehension gone.

"Me?  I'm a civil engineer with the Department of Energy," Korso said, "But I know that's not what you meant.  Up until now, the Sons of Liberty have been merely recruiting, building strength in preparation for the inevitable showdown.  But you've got spunk, and your stunt with the DHS mainframe has turned some heads.  We've been wanting to move toward open resistance for a while now, and we think people with skills and connections like you've got have the potential of turning the tide in the struggle against authoritarianism in this country.  In short, we need community organizers."

Suddenly, the intensity of the discussion was interrupted by the sound of the lock on the front door rattling.  All three, recruits and recruiter, froze as the latch clicked.  The door opened creakily, and there was Kale, back early from his class.  He shuffled inside, nose buried in a stack of junk mail from the mailbox downstairs, and shut the door behind him with his foot.  He looked up, and his eyes met those of Korso.  He froze too.

The silence was broken by Korso.  "Kale," he said warily, "I thought you were in class."

"Get out," Kale said shortly.

"Now son--" Korso replied placatingly, rising to his feet.

"Don't call me that," Kale shot back quietly, "Not after what you pulled.  I'd wager anything that these two didn't invite you here."  He glanced briefly at the sofa where Matt and Parker still sat.  "So go."

Korso blanched slightly.  "I thought we were past that," he said, almost as quietly as Kale, "That was years ago."

"Yes, it was years ago," Kale said, "Now get out."

Korso nodded solemnly and walked to the door.  Hand on the doorknob, he turned and gave Parker and Matt long, searching looks.  "Think about what I've told you," he said at last, ignoring Kale, "Your contact will know how to get in touch with me if you decide..."  Letting his sentence trail off unfinished, he pulled the door open, and with one final glance over his shoulder, he was gone.
His Majesty Michael the First, by the Grace of God, King of Tytor and her Colonies, and Lord Protector of Floodwater

Factbook -- News -- Press Office

Former Governor-General of The Infinite Alliance
Former Ambassador to Albion and the Global Right Alliance
Former Vice Premier and Speaker of the Senate of the Independent Order
Professional Procrastinator

Non-partisan and proud of it

"A witty saying proves nothing." - Voltaire

Offline Tytor

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Re: One Nation, Under Watch
« Reply #3 on: May 23, 2021, 07:10:17 AM »
Part 4

New Providence, FCD
Federal Republic of Centralia
March 3, 2020 - 6:14 PM


Matt lay flat on his back on his bed, thumbing through another cheap comic book he'd scavenged from a dumpster down the street.  This one was lousy; the characters were flat, the dialogue forced, and several action panels were duplicated, but he was bored, so it was as good a source of entertainment as any.  Parker and Kale were in the next room, having yet another one of the arguments they'd been having on and off for more than a month now.  The very first took place just after Korso left; Parker had wanted to go barreling after him immediately, but Kale had put his foot down.  Loudly.  Just like he had about five minutes ago when Parker broached the subject again.  And now Matt was trying hard to ignore them.  Again.

It wasn't working.

"Look, I don't care how 'exciting' you think this will be," Kale's voice almost shouted, "It's too dangerous!  You know that."

"How would you know?" Parker's voice retorted even louder, "You never do anything more dangerous than riding your bike to school!"

There was a moment's silence.  Matt could tell without seeing either that each was glaring daggers at the other.  Finally, Kale's voice spoke, much more quietly.

"Fine," he said, "Do what you do, but if you get yourself killed, don't come crying to me."

There was the sound of footsteps, and Matt heard the apartment's front door slam.  It wasn't clear at first which of his friends had just stormed out, but then Parker came into the bedroom where Matt was.  His face was set in a grim expression.  "Come on, Grasshopper," he said, "It's time to sign up."

"I dunno, Parker," Matt said slowly, not looking up from his comic book, "What if Kale's right?"

"He's not.  Think about it; we've got one of the most oppressive governments on Mundus, to the point that we can't even trust the evening news.  If we don't do anything, who will?"

"Somebody smarter and less likely to die, maybe?"

"Like who?"

"I dunno.  But that Korso fellow seemed awfully pushy.  I'm sure he knows somebody."

Parker sighed.  "Look," he said finally, "I can't force you to sign up with me, but... come along anyway, just to see what it's all about.  If you decide you want out, I'll drop it.

"Promise?" Matt asked, looking up at last.

Parker's face split into a lopsided grin.  "Promise," he said.
His Majesty Michael the First, by the Grace of God, King of Tytor and her Colonies, and Lord Protector of Floodwater

Factbook -- News -- Press Office

Former Governor-General of The Infinite Alliance
Former Ambassador to Albion and the Global Right Alliance
Former Vice Premier and Speaker of the Senate of the Independent Order
Professional Procrastinator

Non-partisan and proud of it

"A witty saying proves nothing." - Voltaire