It's looking like you'd better do what they say [CLOSED]

[futilecycle]

WHO | Sigma and Quintus
WHAT | Two influential men make plans about how to deal with the Arena blackout.
WHEN | Immediately after the blackout.
WHERE | Starting with the Gamemaker's Tower, future location to be determined.
WARNINGS/NOTES | None for now.


Plutarch had never said their team was made of forward-thinking persons - when each of them accepted their job they had only their wallets and fame in mind. Though they knew the cost of poor performance was their lives, none of them believed themselves incompetent enough to make a mistake.

When lightning crashes down and silences the Games, it's less of an 'act of God' than most believe. Today, even an accident may not save Sigma Klim's pathetic life.

There is a great, unbelieving silence in the room before he and his coworkers start a mad scramble to bring the footage back online. Several minutes of mad futility pass like hours, like play-by-plays of entire lives. They are still working when the calls begin to roll in, clogging up communications.. from press, from Snow, from anyone looking for answers.

As Head Gamemaker, Plutarch would be speaking with the President, leaving Sigma open to the next in line. There was only one he was to answer and Sigma waited for him with bated breath. There would be an investigation, certainly, and it was in his best interest to turn up the heat on the rebels. The children may be safe, but for Sigma, snake in the grass, it was time to defend himself from death by striking back.

Comments

[lex_paciferat]

"One moment."

There's a good ten seconds of silence from Quintus' end--he keeps the call muted as he and his associates talk over the situation. Corsca is angry, unable to believe that the Gamemakers couldn't have planned for such damage. Was it incompetence or an inside job? What kind of risk would be involved in sending Peacekeepers in with them? What if rebels were in there, slaughtering the Tributes?

"They wouldn't want to kill them," Quintus insists. "That's not in their interest. This Arena's already unpopular--if they want to come across as heroes they'll rescue them."

Townsden raises the possibility that this is a trap, intended to embarrass the Capitol. It's a possibility Quintus has to acknowledge. But if they have any chance of salvaging the situation, of allowing things to proceed as usual, they have to deal with the damage.

He switches the speaker back on.

"We're ready and willing to assist. How many of your guys are you going to need to send in there to get things up and running?"

[futilecycle]

Sigma holds his breath, stock still, as he is being judged. In the end none of them have time to point fingers, and a call to action is reassuring. From either side of the fight, it was to his advantage to have his mess cleaned up as soon as possible.

"As many as we can reasonably protect. Every second of lost footage is a tremendous waste." Of time, of lives, or of lessons learned, he doesn't specify. "We would like the Games back online as soon as we can manage. What we can do depends on your support and we are grateful for whatever you can afford." He is exceedingly appreciative. The Peacekeepers had no obligation to solve his problems for him, and yet they had extended their cooperation. Perhaps the Capitol could have just as easily put a noose around their necks and called for a fresh start.

[lex_paciferat]

That's not the kind of answer Quintus likes to hear--he'd rather have a solid number--but it speaks to the uncertainty of the situation and the fact that Sigma recognizes he's playing a delicate sort of cross-jurisdictional game here. His finger taps the mute button on the tabletop touchscreen again, and with another few strokes he pulls up the holographic display and turns on Birdshaw's side of the table.

"I'm thinking a party of about fifteen to escort five to ten repairmen," he says. "Subject to change as soon as we get eyes in there. We got anyone nearby we can relocate?"

Birdshaw picks through the duty rosters, tallying up Peacekeepers and bouncing numbers and assignments off of Quintus. For a while they go back and forth, with Corsca interjecting in regard to what class of armor and weaponry they should take along. As the conversation lengthens, Quintus briefly unmutes the call to tell Sigma that they're still discussing the particulars, then mutes it again. A few minutes tick by.

Finally, he addresses Sigma. "I can get fifteen men and two trucks down there in approximately two hours. They can accompany up to ten of your staff. I'll need you to send us the coordinates of a rendezvous point and whatever Arena maps you have available."

[futilecycle]

Sigma is well aware that ten men will not be enough to have the Arena up and running promptly. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but, courtesy of the baseline paranoia that kept him alive, he wonders if the men behind the microphone expect him to argue. He weighs his allegiances before answering. "I appreciate your cooperation." His inflection is not as appreciative as it was without being argumentative. "We will have staff ready to begin repairs at the arranged time. Ensure that your men do not anticipate a hasty resolution. I am having the information for the Arena and locations for rendezvous sent to you as we speak."

He watches the data from his console copy and disappear into cyberspace long enough to ponder something. "...As an aside, gentlemen... I am sure I speak for the entire Gamemaking staff when I say would rather see as many Tributes as possible alive and on camera when we are ready to broadcast." Though the practice had lost popularity after Plutarch's rise as Head Gamemaker, after the disasters that were Temple Drake et al it was the Gamemakers' responsibility to choose their favourites for victory and... facilitate them. The last thing they needed was another cannibal or everyday coward with a crown on their head. Thus, they had a roster of people they very much wanted alive and well. But accidents happened. He did not expect everyone to survive the blackout. "However, the safety of our combined team is priority one. If your Peacekeepers must defend themselves and others, all I ask is that there be no bullet holes left to find when the lights come on. Do you suppose we can agree on that?" That arrangement would make damage control a lot easier for all of them.

[lex_paciferat]

Quintus exchanges glances with the three men. Corsca still appears suspicious, but Quintus can tell the consensus is there without having to ask. A lengthy outage is bound to be enough of a media hassle, and disrupting the Games' manufactured fairness would only outrage the populace more. As if pulling from Capitol children wasn't enough--

"I will issue an order that Tributes not be fired upon unless they place our team in imminent danger of death," he promises. "We should also agree on how to handle any escapees, if it turns out we've got a physical breach. My preference is for claiming them as casualties. I'd rather say we got the bodies cleaned up before restoring surveillance than scare people with the possibility that they might be running amok somewhere."