(no subject)
From her grand office window, the Chief Director can see the trucks rumble in, back from their 'supply' gathering raids. With the food-processing facility a thing of the past, having been rendered useless by the Embryon's attack, more and more of the population of Karma City were being forced to face the more...carnal methods of feeding. Several still protested; while being a demon was one thing, cannibalism was another. But it sat easier with them when they only had to eat it from a can and pretend it was just some nameless meat. Jenna inwardly scoffed at those who put up such a fuss. Now we know who will be the first to fall when chaos truly descends, don't we?
However, the sniveling cowards afraid to embrace their Atma wasn't her primary concern here. It was the numbers of these incoming trucks and their supply count. Every time this particular squadron went out, they would come back with X amount of prisoners. And every time when these detainees were taken in for rationing, there were always a few short. Two weeks in a row. 68 people come in, 65 are rationed. 31 people come in, 27 are rationed.
This does not bode well.
Although, to a degree, it's too be expected, isn't it? The world is crumbling into anarchy. The Karma Society really is one of the only military and government entities left in this world. Everything else outside it has fallen to chaos. Atma run rampant, feasting upon one another, weeding out the weaklings, leaving only the strong. What is left of the population of normal humans hide underground still. And while the loss of the Lokapala and the other residents of Old Portland was a blow to the ease of managing Karma City's food supply, it was remedied well enough. Send out strike forces of Karma soldiers to far reaches of the earth to flush out other camps of humans. Round them up, dead or alive, and bring them back to the city. Then they would be divided up amongst the masses here for feeding. Some were given live, others were hacked up and distributed. It was a system that was working well enough for the time being.
Except for the 'supplies' that are magically dropping off the radar without explanation. Again, it's to be expected, but not tolerated. While the world as a whole will drop into a state of survival of the fittest, it's Jenna's duty to ensure that the Karma Society is the fittest. She will not allow anyone to step out of line, or forget that she is the top of the food chain here, both literally and figuratively.
Angel doesn't like it when people attempt things behind her back and expect her not to notice. Implications that she's blind or ignorant don't sit well with her. She is not weak in any way, shape or form, and she certainly isn't stupid. Which is hard to say for this particular band of soldiers; now that she's picked up on the discrepancies of numbers on paper, it will only take a brief check with security camera footage to see where those missing prisoners are being taken, and by who. Idiots.
Confrontation was needed. It was clear that someone, maybe a group of someones, in this squadron were keeping food for themselves. When Jenna observes the supply truck pulling into the warehouse-cum-holding pen, she gets up from her desk and heads for the elevator.
------
While Jenna is prone to pontificating to a degree, she doesn't always have much of a flair for the dramatic. So when she comes upon the forgotten, weather-battered, sun-cracked building with bars in the windows and settled just outside the edge of Karma City's protective domes, there is no transforming into Harihara. No smashing down walls or yelling for them to come forth and confess. Instead, her approach to kicking this situation off is just walking up to the door, opening it quietly, and strolling on in.
The fools didn't even put a lock on it. She can only hope their lack of precautions and planning is due to the loss of sound thinking a starved Tuner can possess. But then again, these men aren't starved in the least, what with squirreling away food for themselves. So much for that.
Muffled sounds and voices from a trapdoor leads her down a set of concrete steps. A naked, solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling is all that illuminates the scene Jenna finds herself in now. And it may say something about her that she is hardly taken aback by what she sees. The only thing that has her inwardly fuming is that these Karma soldiers thought they could get away with this sort of insubordination.
Cages line the walls, some vacant, others with people inside of them. Some dead, some living. Shoved into one corner is a refrigerator, the white, enamel surface smeared with handprints and old, brown blood. A noisily whirring and chugging generator keeps it and the lightbulb going. One table has a variety of hacksaws and knives laid out, none looking all that clean. And as one last gruesome accommodation, a man is currently hanging from the wall, chained by the wrists, one leg gone, the other already tied off with a tourniquet for the upcoming feeding.
And currently locking one last cage is the three soldiers responsible for this. They seem to not notice Jenna Angel's presence for a comically long time, too preoccupied on getting the newest additions to their hidden stash stowed away. But one soon looks up and his face goes as white as his uniform at the sight of the Chief Director standing at the foot of the stairs, arms folded across her stomach, watching their proceedings with an expression that almost seems like smug amusement. And soon, the other two men look up as well, appearing equally horrified as the first to notice.
Jenna could have easily sent another group of soldiers to handle this situation. But for one thing, she can hardly trust any more of the ranks than she can these three that currently stand before her. And the other matter at hand is this makes a point. That she will not tolerate such impudent behavior, enough so that she will deal with it personally. A lesson learned sticks better when someone of a much higher standing is the one to deliver it, after all.
"Quite the little operation," a perfunctory glance at the hanging man, "you have going on here, gentlemen." She has to raise her voice just slightly to be heard over the generator. None of the soldiers answer her. So she just continues, now moving to stroll a little around the room, observing the contents of the cages. "But I'm afraid this is the end of the line.
"You, as well as all the rest of Karma City, are under strict rationing orders with the fodder you bring back from your raids. While I must applaud the bold moves you've undertaken with this all, it is, in a word, unacceptable. And do you know why that is?" She looks around at the soldiers expectantly, like a teacher waiting for a student to hazard an guess at her textbook questions. Still none speak up.
"You WILL NOT go over my ORDERS!" Now her voice really is raised, scowling as she brings a fist down onto the steel top of one of the empty cages with a bang and a rattle. "Do you not think I know what I'm doing? Everything that is taking place is down to an exact science, gentlemen; an exact science. You will not jeopardize my planning with your gluttony, you will not disregard my orders, and you will NOT insult my intelligence like this, thinking you can get away with this without my noticing! Do you understand me!?"
There are finally three hasty 'yes ma'am's in response, all of them long since standing at attention as Jenna reprimands them. They're in fear for their lives here, and she know it. They're all expecting her to devour them as punishment, and for a moment, she's half-tempted to.
But no. She still does need all the soldiers she can get. There has always been a steady, trickling loss of them over these many, many months. Some from the devouring of one another in fights spurred by starvation, some from conflicts with survivors. And then those that went under the 'other' category. Either devoured by unknown Tuners (which she assumes as the Rose Garden, though they've been mysteriously quiet for quite some time; perhaps they fled as well to the Nexus. Wouldn't that be a blessing) or just turning up dead.
"I will consider and give out your punishment at another time. Until then, I want all of this," she waves around at the people in the cages, including the one hanging from his wrists, "removed from here and taken back to the facility for rationing. And if I find that any of you continue hoarding behind my back, or devour any of this before returning it, I'll take it out of your miserable hides." Literally.
And just like that, she turns and leaves them to this task. It's only after they report in upon completion will Jenna inform them of their punishment. She'll have them decide amongst themselves which of them will pay for the crime in their life, surrendering one of the three to be rationed as well. Prior misgivings about losing another Karma soldier aside, sometimes putting a bit of holy fear back into the ranks is more important in the long run.
---
Jenna was obviously already in a bit of a stormy mood when she returns to her office, her face permanently set in her familiar scowl as she takes a seat at her desk. So to see that there was an alert waiting on the screen of her computer only makes that frown deepen.
A click reveals that a notice has gone up; old files backed up on some of the EGG facility's computers have been accessed. And without authorization. This might have completely gone without her notice had she not recently put up the proper security measures that would notify her and her technicians when old files were pulled up or checked. It seemed, at the time, like an unnecessary precaution. Now she's glad she had.
There is not a great deal of an indicator as to who was using these programs and files, or for what, but a look at what has been accessed gives her a good guess. A few clicks later and there is a simulation document name:
asura_project.junkyard_sim.beta1.3
...Old back-up files of the Junkyard simulation. Well, then. There are few outside parties that would have interest in such things. But she can think of one right off the top of her head.
"The Embryon," she mutters, her face and tone darkening.
The sim was, of course, obsolete and shelved, left unrunning. No rain, no soldiers, no Karma Guards, no Dissemination Machine. Just a blank, gray landscape with empty buildings and bases.
A few keystrokes changes all that.
"Not behind my back..."
((Backdated somewhat to the events of the Junkyard beta coming to life, cut for length and brief but disturbing/graphic descriptions. Fairly warned be ye.))
However, the sniveling cowards afraid to embrace their Atma wasn't her primary concern here. It was the numbers of these incoming trucks and their supply count. Every time this particular squadron went out, they would come back with X amount of prisoners. And every time when these detainees were taken in for rationing, there were always a few short. Two weeks in a row. 68 people come in, 65 are rationed. 31 people come in, 27 are rationed.
This does not bode well.
Although, to a degree, it's too be expected, isn't it? The world is crumbling into anarchy. The Karma Society really is one of the only military and government entities left in this world. Everything else outside it has fallen to chaos. Atma run rampant, feasting upon one another, weeding out the weaklings, leaving only the strong. What is left of the population of normal humans hide underground still. And while the loss of the Lokapala and the other residents of Old Portland was a blow to the ease of managing Karma City's food supply, it was remedied well enough. Send out strike forces of Karma soldiers to far reaches of the earth to flush out other camps of humans. Round them up, dead or alive, and bring them back to the city. Then they would be divided up amongst the masses here for feeding. Some were given live, others were hacked up and distributed. It was a system that was working well enough for the time being.
Except for the 'supplies' that are magically dropping off the radar without explanation. Again, it's to be expected, but not tolerated. While the world as a whole will drop into a state of survival of the fittest, it's Jenna's duty to ensure that the Karma Society is the fittest. She will not allow anyone to step out of line, or forget that she is the top of the food chain here, both literally and figuratively.
Angel doesn't like it when people attempt things behind her back and expect her not to notice. Implications that she's blind or ignorant don't sit well with her. She is not weak in any way, shape or form, and she certainly isn't stupid. Which is hard to say for this particular band of soldiers; now that she's picked up on the discrepancies of numbers on paper, it will only take a brief check with security camera footage to see where those missing prisoners are being taken, and by who. Idiots.
Confrontation was needed. It was clear that someone, maybe a group of someones, in this squadron were keeping food for themselves. When Jenna observes the supply truck pulling into the warehouse-cum-holding pen, she gets up from her desk and heads for the elevator.
------
While Jenna is prone to pontificating to a degree, she doesn't always have much of a flair for the dramatic. So when she comes upon the forgotten, weather-battered, sun-cracked building with bars in the windows and settled just outside the edge of Karma City's protective domes, there is no transforming into Harihara. No smashing down walls or yelling for them to come forth and confess. Instead, her approach to kicking this situation off is just walking up to the door, opening it quietly, and strolling on in.
The fools didn't even put a lock on it. She can only hope their lack of precautions and planning is due to the loss of sound thinking a starved Tuner can possess. But then again, these men aren't starved in the least, what with squirreling away food for themselves. So much for that.
Muffled sounds and voices from a trapdoor leads her down a set of concrete steps. A naked, solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling is all that illuminates the scene Jenna finds herself in now. And it may say something about her that she is hardly taken aback by what she sees. The only thing that has her inwardly fuming is that these Karma soldiers thought they could get away with this sort of insubordination.
Cages line the walls, some vacant, others with people inside of them. Some dead, some living. Shoved into one corner is a refrigerator, the white, enamel surface smeared with handprints and old, brown blood. A noisily whirring and chugging generator keeps it and the lightbulb going. One table has a variety of hacksaws and knives laid out, none looking all that clean. And as one last gruesome accommodation, a man is currently hanging from the wall, chained by the wrists, one leg gone, the other already tied off with a tourniquet for the upcoming feeding.
And currently locking one last cage is the three soldiers responsible for this. They seem to not notice Jenna Angel's presence for a comically long time, too preoccupied on getting the newest additions to their hidden stash stowed away. But one soon looks up and his face goes as white as his uniform at the sight of the Chief Director standing at the foot of the stairs, arms folded across her stomach, watching their proceedings with an expression that almost seems like smug amusement. And soon, the other two men look up as well, appearing equally horrified as the first to notice.
Jenna could have easily sent another group of soldiers to handle this situation. But for one thing, she can hardly trust any more of the ranks than she can these three that currently stand before her. And the other matter at hand is this makes a point. That she will not tolerate such impudent behavior, enough so that she will deal with it personally. A lesson learned sticks better when someone of a much higher standing is the one to deliver it, after all.
"Quite the little operation," a perfunctory glance at the hanging man, "you have going on here, gentlemen." She has to raise her voice just slightly to be heard over the generator. None of the soldiers answer her. So she just continues, now moving to stroll a little around the room, observing the contents of the cages. "But I'm afraid this is the end of the line.
"You, as well as all the rest of Karma City, are under strict rationing orders with the fodder you bring back from your raids. While I must applaud the bold moves you've undertaken with this all, it is, in a word, unacceptable. And do you know why that is?" She looks around at the soldiers expectantly, like a teacher waiting for a student to hazard an guess at her textbook questions. Still none speak up.
"You WILL NOT go over my ORDERS!" Now her voice really is raised, scowling as she brings a fist down onto the steel top of one of the empty cages with a bang and a rattle. "Do you not think I know what I'm doing? Everything that is taking place is down to an exact science, gentlemen; an exact science. You will not jeopardize my planning with your gluttony, you will not disregard my orders, and you will NOT insult my intelligence like this, thinking you can get away with this without my noticing! Do you understand me!?"
There are finally three hasty 'yes ma'am's in response, all of them long since standing at attention as Jenna reprimands them. They're in fear for their lives here, and she know it. They're all expecting her to devour them as punishment, and for a moment, she's half-tempted to.
But no. She still does need all the soldiers she can get. There has always been a steady, trickling loss of them over these many, many months. Some from the devouring of one another in fights spurred by starvation, some from conflicts with survivors. And then those that went under the 'other' category. Either devoured by unknown Tuners (which she assumes as the Rose Garden, though they've been mysteriously quiet for quite some time; perhaps they fled as well to the Nexus. Wouldn't that be a blessing) or just turning up dead.
"I will consider and give out your punishment at another time. Until then, I want all of this," she waves around at the people in the cages, including the one hanging from his wrists, "removed from here and taken back to the facility for rationing. And if I find that any of you continue hoarding behind my back, or devour any of this before returning it, I'll take it out of your miserable hides." Literally.
And just like that, she turns and leaves them to this task. It's only after they report in upon completion will Jenna inform them of their punishment. She'll have them decide amongst themselves which of them will pay for the crime in their life, surrendering one of the three to be rationed as well. Prior misgivings about losing another Karma soldier aside, sometimes putting a bit of holy fear back into the ranks is more important in the long run.
---
Jenna was obviously already in a bit of a stormy mood when she returns to her office, her face permanently set in her familiar scowl as she takes a seat at her desk. So to see that there was an alert waiting on the screen of her computer only makes that frown deepen.
A click reveals that a notice has gone up; old files backed up on some of the EGG facility's computers have been accessed. And without authorization. This might have completely gone without her notice had she not recently put up the proper security measures that would notify her and her technicians when old files were pulled up or checked. It seemed, at the time, like an unnecessary precaution. Now she's glad she had.
There is not a great deal of an indicator as to who was using these programs and files, or for what, but a look at what has been accessed gives her a good guess. A few clicks later and there is a simulation document name:
asura_project.junkyard_sim.beta1.3
...Old back-up files of the Junkyard simulation. Well, then. There are few outside parties that would have interest in such things. But she can think of one right off the top of her head.
"The Embryon," she mutters, her face and tone darkening.
The sim was, of course, obsolete and shelved, left unrunning. No rain, no soldiers, no Karma Guards, no Dissemination Machine. Just a blank, gray landscape with empty buildings and bases.
A few keystrokes changes all that.
"Not behind my back..."
((Backdated somewhat to the events of the Junkyard beta coming to life, cut for length and brief but disturbing/graphic descriptions. Fairly warned be ye.))