“When did I start to care so much about what happened to other people?”
Well, yeah, it was probably a given that the government people would show up to interrupt whatever they had planned. It was basically their job to kill her, and Uno for helping her as well. The thing was, Stella had found that she simply didn’t have any hate to speak of. Not for them, not for the Prime Minister who had ordered her death, not for the scientists who’d messed around with her parents’ genetics and inadvertently signed her up for this whole huge mess… not even for whomever was systematically deceiving everyone.
She’d disliked plenty of people in her life. Hell, she probably disliked most people period, just on principle. But… hate was something entirely different. The desire to destroy someone, to see them dead at her feet—she’d just never had it, for all her jaded cynicism and mistrust. She couldn’t summon it up even now, when her life and his were both in danger. Even thinking about what they’d done to her parents, and then to her aunt and uncle who had raised her. It made her angry, yes, and she thought that they deserved to answer for what they had done, but… she did not hate them, not a single one.
So… when the time came, would she hesitate? Stella really didn’t know.
Shaking her head slightly, she decided to trust Violet when it came to the plans. He seemed to be very good at provoking people, after all, and that was exactly what they needed to do. On the stove, she brought some water to a boil, and started stirring in various things, like the vegetables she’d chopped, some tofu stock, and a bunch of spices. The meat went in last, and by the time he was done with the HUD, she was done with the food.
The stew, simple but tasty, came off the burner, and she set his bowl down by his elbow in just enough time to hear the meow, which called her eyes to the screen. “Your cat can work an HUD?” she asked, slightly incredulous until she decided it was really the least weird thing she’d seen in the last few days. “That’s… something else.” In the end, though, she shrugged, feeling another pang of loss for Ash, but pushing it aside as she had to. There wasn’t any time to be getting too emotional about these things.
He was right, of course, in suggesting that she needed to practice, and so Stella figured that would occupy her well into the night, and then she could crash for a few hours, until they needed to be up again for whatever it was he’d decided they should do. But first, she needed to eat, or else she wouldn’t be able to do much at all, so she took a seat to the left of him, one stool between for the sake of politeness.
“So… what’s this plan of yours?” She hated to drag him away from what seemed to be a rare sentimental moment, so she stopped there, fine with waiting however long until he was ready to reply.
Trailing along at Crux’s side, Darcia was busy perusing the Network for the schedules of the Triumvirate and the Prime Minister, a feat which took a bit of time due to the fact that this information was highly-classified and behind other firewalls and additional layers of security. She could break through it, but that would cause undue disruption to the function of the government, and so she chose to engage in the extra steps necessary to verify her identity before being granted access.
It did, of course, have the side effect of reminding her of some of the things Dr. Engels had said, about what the Network was and her relationship to it, as a piece of technology. She did not spend long in such ruminations as of yet, however, because the information she wanted was presented to her shortly after.
“All public appearances have ceased for the business day,” she informed him quietly, “But there are several scheduled for tomorrow. Dr. Engels is giving the keynote lecture at a bioengineering conference… but that event will not likely receive much attention outside the scientific community, making it a poor selection. Ms. Ashworthy will be addressing Parliament about what is called a new crime-prediction technology, but that meeting is private, and will not be broadcast to the public.”
If their targets wanted to strike tomorrow, then, they would have to pick an event attended either by the Supreme General or the Prime Minister himself. “It is not a speech, but the Supreme General is scheduled to tour a new intelligence facility in Specter, and there will be a press conference afterward.” Recently, the relative prevalence of crime in Specter had been the focus of some media attention, and a new military intelligence division building had been built in an attempt to mitigate the situation. The secret police had an outpost there, too, but as they were primarily concerned with the collection of information on major organized crime networks rather than the apprehension of misdemeanor criminals and those who committed certain unsystematic felonies, the focus was too different to do much but keep the crime very unorganized.
“The Prime Minister is scheduled for a different press conference, which will take place in Vie, for the standard state address. The latter two seem most likely targets for disruption.”
She’d disliked plenty of people in her life. Hell, she probably disliked most people period, just on principle. But… hate was something entirely different. The desire to destroy someone, to see them dead at her feet—she’d just never had it, for all her jaded cynicism and mistrust. She couldn’t summon it up even now, when her life and his were both in danger. Even thinking about what they’d done to her parents, and then to her aunt and uncle who had raised her. It made her angry, yes, and she thought that they deserved to answer for what they had done, but… she did not hate them, not a single one.
So… when the time came, would she hesitate? Stella really didn’t know.
Shaking her head slightly, she decided to trust Violet when it came to the plans. He seemed to be very good at provoking people, after all, and that was exactly what they needed to do. On the stove, she brought some water to a boil, and started stirring in various things, like the vegetables she’d chopped, some tofu stock, and a bunch of spices. The meat went in last, and by the time he was done with the HUD, she was done with the food.
The stew, simple but tasty, came off the burner, and she set his bowl down by his elbow in just enough time to hear the meow, which called her eyes to the screen. “Your cat can work an HUD?” she asked, slightly incredulous until she decided it was really the least weird thing she’d seen in the last few days. “That’s… something else.” In the end, though, she shrugged, feeling another pang of loss for Ash, but pushing it aside as she had to. There wasn’t any time to be getting too emotional about these things.
He was right, of course, in suggesting that she needed to practice, and so Stella figured that would occupy her well into the night, and then she could crash for a few hours, until they needed to be up again for whatever it was he’d decided they should do. But first, she needed to eat, or else she wouldn’t be able to do much at all, so she took a seat to the left of him, one stool between for the sake of politeness.
“So… what’s this plan of yours?” She hated to drag him away from what seemed to be a rare sentimental moment, so she stopped there, fine with waiting however long until he was ready to reply.
“It surely must have been when this one met you.”
Trailing along at Crux’s side, Darcia was busy perusing the Network for the schedules of the Triumvirate and the Prime Minister, a feat which took a bit of time due to the fact that this information was highly-classified and behind other firewalls and additional layers of security. She could break through it, but that would cause undue disruption to the function of the government, and so she chose to engage in the extra steps necessary to verify her identity before being granted access.
It did, of course, have the side effect of reminding her of some of the things Dr. Engels had said, about what the Network was and her relationship to it, as a piece of technology. She did not spend long in such ruminations as of yet, however, because the information she wanted was presented to her shortly after.
“All public appearances have ceased for the business day,” she informed him quietly, “But there are several scheduled for tomorrow. Dr. Engels is giving the keynote lecture at a bioengineering conference… but that event will not likely receive much attention outside the scientific community, making it a poor selection. Ms. Ashworthy will be addressing Parliament about what is called a new crime-prediction technology, but that meeting is private, and will not be broadcast to the public.”
If their targets wanted to strike tomorrow, then, they would have to pick an event attended either by the Supreme General or the Prime Minister himself. “It is not a speech, but the Supreme General is scheduled to tour a new intelligence facility in Specter, and there will be a press conference afterward.” Recently, the relative prevalence of crime in Specter had been the focus of some media attention, and a new military intelligence division building had been built in an attempt to mitigate the situation. The secret police had an outpost there, too, but as they were primarily concerned with the collection of information on major organized crime networks rather than the apprehension of misdemeanor criminals and those who committed certain unsystematic felonies, the focus was too different to do much but keep the crime very unorganized.
“The Prime Minister is scheduled for a different press conference, which will take place in Vie, for the standard state address. The latter two seem most likely targets for disruption.”