04-11-2023, 05:27 PM
“Greater Acadia, though!?” Savannah Martinez shouted at Chris Goode in the middle of Watchdogs of Our Earth’s Costenan office in Carville. “I’m sorry, but they are unquestionably one of the best governments on climate action across the entire IDU. Their actions could have caused massive explosions in the middle of the city; innocent people could have been killed! I can’t believe you still want to work with Warriors after this! In the middle of the government hunting them all down!”
“If Greater Acadia wanted to avoid such incidents, they could choose to quit their bad habits now, instead of delaying. And the crackdown is exactly why we need to keep supporting our comrades in Warriors. If you don’t like it, just ignore them. Anyway, I’m going back to the celebration,” he shrugged and left the room.
Delaying? We agreed to call for 2025 as a negotiating strategy to get 2030. But you’ve probably forgotten that in your fanaticism, Chris, thought Savannah as she let out a long exhale. She headed back into the tiny kitchen and leaned against the counter, breathing deeply and thinking. This was not what she’d signed up for. The people around her were becoming more and more extreme by the minute. She’d tried to be a moderating voice, but she was dismissed out of hand now.
Savannah was to the Costenan branch of Watchdogs what Irene was to the Fleuran. She carried out all the boring admin tasks that nobody else wanted to do. She could keep information organised in her head and make sure things went smoothly. But she hated the violence the Warriors were carrying out. The moment Watchdogs let Warriors use their offices, she’d thought of quitting. She stayed only to provide that voice of reason, but at this point they would not listen.
She made her decision. She took an empty washing up basin and headed back through to the computer room while the others were ‘celebrating’ the destruction in Greater Acadia. She began to collect up the random coffee mugs and other dirty dishes strewn around the room. As she did so, she stuck a USB into a computer the user had forgotten to log out of. She knew Chris was in Warriors; and it was his computer. She copied the folder labelled with the code word for Warriors. As it loaded, she collected the rest of the dishes, and then pulled out the stick.
Back in the kitchen, she washed up the collected dishes and left them on the drainer. Then she returned to the computers, as the others were filing back in, and grabbed her jacket and bag. “I forgot to take my antidepressants this morning,” she told Chris. “I’ll have to head back home and get them. Want me to take the recycling down on my way out?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Chris said, distracted by his conversation with someone who was presumably much more interesting in his eyes. Savannah grabbed the box full of paper, and headed out of the office, into the stairwell they shared with a bunch of random businesses. Officially, their office was registered to some shell company with a boring name, which was listed on their door. She didn’t meet anyone on her way out, so instead of heading out back to the bins, she exited the front door and quickly made her way to Carville Central Station, just down the road.
At the station, she got on the first train going east, and travelled a single stop to Carville East, one of the other stations within the city proper. At Carville East, she headed out of the southern exit of the station, turning right, followed by a quick left, until she stood outside the headquarters of the Carville City Police Department. She took a deep breath, and then went inside to the reception desk.
“How may I help you?” the receptionist said in Spanish, her tone of voice indicating general boredom.
“Hi, uh, I have information on Warriors of Our Earth. Like, a lot of information.”
The receptionist looked up at her. A young woman with long dark hair, glasses, clutching a cardboard box of what looked like scrap paper. She wore a denim jacket covered in patches bearing a variety of activist slogans, interspersed with cute cartoon cats. A backpack was slung behind her, recognisable as from a brand based on Butterfly Island that used fully-recycled materials to create their products. Overall, the kind of person who probably actually did have useful information.
“Hold on one moment,” the receptionist said, picking up a phone on her desk and dialling the conference room upstairs which had been taken over by the FPIS for their WOE investigation within the city. “Hello, I have a young woman here with information regarding WOE… yes, I expect so… okay, I’ll send her up.” She hung up and turned to one of the uniformed officers hanging around the reception area. “Could you please show this young woman to Conference Room 8?”
He nodded. “Right this way,” he said to Savannah. She followed him to an elevator, up to the third floor. He took her along a corridor into a side room attached to Conference Room 8. The side room was small, containing a table, three chairs, and a houseplant. There was a small window in the room, with a set of wooden blinds raised to let in the light. Overall, it was much nicer than Savannah had anticipated. The uniformed officer left her, and was quickly replaced by a plain-clothes FPIS officer.
“Good afternoon, I’m Agent Eloy Escarella. I’m told you have information on WOE? May I have your name please?”
This is it, Savannah thought. Oh well, too late to change her mind now. “My name is Savannah Martinez, I’ve been a member of Watchdogs of Our Earth since 2020. But I don’t support the violence of Warriors. That’s why I’m here; nobody is listening to me any longer that they’re a threat. What they did in Greater Acadia was stupid and dangerous, and I can’t have anything to do with them now. Here, this is a USB that has the contents of one of their organiser’s computers. And this box is the recycling after their last planning meeting in the Watchdogs office. I don’t know if there’s anything in it, but I thought it might be useful.”
Escarella raised an eyebrow at the fast-talking woman. She was staring at the table, clearly nervous about coming here. He took the USB and peered inside the box. He pulled out a piece of paper covered in a list of nonsense words following the word “Operación”. He smiled slightly at some of them. Evidently, WOE spent far too much time brainstorming code names. He continued to flick through the box, finding a map of southern Xiomera, an invoice for six plane tickets to Greater Acadia, and an empty cardboard box stamped with the seal of a known illegal cannabis edibles manufacturer.
“Thank you for coming in, Ms Martinez,” he said after his flick through the box. “Rest assured, we’re not going to arrest you for being part of Watchdogs.” She visibly relaxed a little. “This is very useful. I understand how difficult it must have been to come here, but you have done your country a great service. The situation with Warriors has become a matter of national security. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to send in another agent to take a full statement?”
“Yeah, that’s… I’m happy to help. I just wanted to stop people destroying the planet; but now it seems like WOE are the ones destroying things! In the war, I fought with the Resistance. But, like, I couldn’t actually kill anyone, so I ended up being captured by Kerlians, and…” she shuddered, unable to keep from spilling out information now she’d taken the first step. “But the point is that I want to help Lauchenoiria, I can’t… I’m sorry,” she broke down in tears.
“Ms Martinez, I’m going to have someone come and bring you a tea or coffee. Please don’t worry about your past involvement; all we want is to put an end to the violence. You’re helping us with that. It’s going to be okay.”
He left the room to go and fetch someone to take a full statement, and to calm the young woman down. In the room, Savannah tried to continue taking her deep breaths, feeling much more relief at her disclosure than she thought she would. In truth, WOE had been disturbing her for months. Now, it was over. She was free from them. Finally.
“If Greater Acadia wanted to avoid such incidents, they could choose to quit their bad habits now, instead of delaying. And the crackdown is exactly why we need to keep supporting our comrades in Warriors. If you don’t like it, just ignore them. Anyway, I’m going back to the celebration,” he shrugged and left the room.
Delaying? We agreed to call for 2025 as a negotiating strategy to get 2030. But you’ve probably forgotten that in your fanaticism, Chris, thought Savannah as she let out a long exhale. She headed back into the tiny kitchen and leaned against the counter, breathing deeply and thinking. This was not what she’d signed up for. The people around her were becoming more and more extreme by the minute. She’d tried to be a moderating voice, but she was dismissed out of hand now.
Savannah was to the Costenan branch of Watchdogs what Irene was to the Fleuran. She carried out all the boring admin tasks that nobody else wanted to do. She could keep information organised in her head and make sure things went smoothly. But she hated the violence the Warriors were carrying out. The moment Watchdogs let Warriors use their offices, she’d thought of quitting. She stayed only to provide that voice of reason, but at this point they would not listen.
She made her decision. She took an empty washing up basin and headed back through to the computer room while the others were ‘celebrating’ the destruction in Greater Acadia. She began to collect up the random coffee mugs and other dirty dishes strewn around the room. As she did so, she stuck a USB into a computer the user had forgotten to log out of. She knew Chris was in Warriors; and it was his computer. She copied the folder labelled with the code word for Warriors. As it loaded, she collected the rest of the dishes, and then pulled out the stick.
Back in the kitchen, she washed up the collected dishes and left them on the drainer. Then she returned to the computers, as the others were filing back in, and grabbed her jacket and bag. “I forgot to take my antidepressants this morning,” she told Chris. “I’ll have to head back home and get them. Want me to take the recycling down on my way out?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Chris said, distracted by his conversation with someone who was presumably much more interesting in his eyes. Savannah grabbed the box full of paper, and headed out of the office, into the stairwell they shared with a bunch of random businesses. Officially, their office was registered to some shell company with a boring name, which was listed on their door. She didn’t meet anyone on her way out, so instead of heading out back to the bins, she exited the front door and quickly made her way to Carville Central Station, just down the road.
At the station, she got on the first train going east, and travelled a single stop to Carville East, one of the other stations within the city proper. At Carville East, she headed out of the southern exit of the station, turning right, followed by a quick left, until she stood outside the headquarters of the Carville City Police Department. She took a deep breath, and then went inside to the reception desk.
“How may I help you?” the receptionist said in Spanish, her tone of voice indicating general boredom.
“Hi, uh, I have information on Warriors of Our Earth. Like, a lot of information.”
The receptionist looked up at her. A young woman with long dark hair, glasses, clutching a cardboard box of what looked like scrap paper. She wore a denim jacket covered in patches bearing a variety of activist slogans, interspersed with cute cartoon cats. A backpack was slung behind her, recognisable as from a brand based on Butterfly Island that used fully-recycled materials to create their products. Overall, the kind of person who probably actually did have useful information.
“Hold on one moment,” the receptionist said, picking up a phone on her desk and dialling the conference room upstairs which had been taken over by the FPIS for their WOE investigation within the city. “Hello, I have a young woman here with information regarding WOE… yes, I expect so… okay, I’ll send her up.” She hung up and turned to one of the uniformed officers hanging around the reception area. “Could you please show this young woman to Conference Room 8?”
He nodded. “Right this way,” he said to Savannah. She followed him to an elevator, up to the third floor. He took her along a corridor into a side room attached to Conference Room 8. The side room was small, containing a table, three chairs, and a houseplant. There was a small window in the room, with a set of wooden blinds raised to let in the light. Overall, it was much nicer than Savannah had anticipated. The uniformed officer left her, and was quickly replaced by a plain-clothes FPIS officer.
“Good afternoon, I’m Agent Eloy Escarella. I’m told you have information on WOE? May I have your name please?”
This is it, Savannah thought. Oh well, too late to change her mind now. “My name is Savannah Martinez, I’ve been a member of Watchdogs of Our Earth since 2020. But I don’t support the violence of Warriors. That’s why I’m here; nobody is listening to me any longer that they’re a threat. What they did in Greater Acadia was stupid and dangerous, and I can’t have anything to do with them now. Here, this is a USB that has the contents of one of their organiser’s computers. And this box is the recycling after their last planning meeting in the Watchdogs office. I don’t know if there’s anything in it, but I thought it might be useful.”
Escarella raised an eyebrow at the fast-talking woman. She was staring at the table, clearly nervous about coming here. He took the USB and peered inside the box. He pulled out a piece of paper covered in a list of nonsense words following the word “Operación”. He smiled slightly at some of them. Evidently, WOE spent far too much time brainstorming code names. He continued to flick through the box, finding a map of southern Xiomera, an invoice for six plane tickets to Greater Acadia, and an empty cardboard box stamped with the seal of a known illegal cannabis edibles manufacturer.
“Thank you for coming in, Ms Martinez,” he said after his flick through the box. “Rest assured, we’re not going to arrest you for being part of Watchdogs.” She visibly relaxed a little. “This is very useful. I understand how difficult it must have been to come here, but you have done your country a great service. The situation with Warriors has become a matter of national security. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to send in another agent to take a full statement?”
“Yeah, that’s… I’m happy to help. I just wanted to stop people destroying the planet; but now it seems like WOE are the ones destroying things! In the war, I fought with the Resistance. But, like, I couldn’t actually kill anyone, so I ended up being captured by Kerlians, and…” she shuddered, unable to keep from spilling out information now she’d taken the first step. “But the point is that I want to help Lauchenoiria, I can’t… I’m sorry,” she broke down in tears.
“Ms Martinez, I’m going to have someone come and bring you a tea or coffee. Please don’t worry about your past involvement; all we want is to put an end to the violence. You’re helping us with that. It’s going to be okay.”
He left the room to go and fetch someone to take a full statement, and to calm the young woman down. In the room, Savannah tried to continue taking her deep breaths, feeling much more relief at her disclosure than she thought she would. In truth, WOE had been disturbing her for months. Now, it was over. She was free from them. Finally.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax