We're a team without description, our names unknown working for a government body that isn't recognized with gear that isn't available. We dive the outer reaches for a drive none knows of, found in a place none has visited. And our lives depend on it. When the treaties were signed it united the westlands. Pandora being neutral turned into a crossroad, growing with influences from the regions populations drawn to its opportunities. A highroad ruled in districts by gunpoint law as Hydra Corp cultured the outer reaches it stemmed the influx of clans and dropped dramatically when seeker sentries started patroling the dunes. We moved in to safeguard the states commerce districts. We fortified the outzones and the harbor with heavy armaments. And we created the outposts. No one rolls in but the problem was within. While the guns of Pandora discouraged the outside it couldn't shelter the inside from itself. Not until the Den: a center where an effort launched to secure the innercity. Curfews and security checks evolved to freezones. It made a difference to the point where in its reach getting killed on the street wasn't a feature of the wild city. It was murder. Belonging to everyone and no one among a growing 100 million the cleanup of disorder synergistic but technically went no further. Syndicate hitmen and gangs still exerted their influence in the struggle for power and smuggler shipment. What was the real power structure like? The ones that knew it best never left a sign and we didn't know at the time whether they cared about the city. And while impressed of the outer reaches we knew Hydra Corp were doing more than what they showed in the compounds. Did they care about Pandora? Now that we're starting to find out, we realize they did. A crossroads of everything the outer city makes bladerunning seem like rehabilitation. Leagues of smugglers known as saboteurs go beyond the outposts. Gambling rides on convoys to the citynation where they sell you your own gear and make it seem like a bargain. The hardships of make or break made them charismatic snowflakes. No doubt it's a ruthless life in the outlands, completely different to our lands. We protect societies with this lethal adventure sometimes forgetting the folks live it out here in procedure. We do our job we get good word and the comfort it shelters our world. They do their job thankful to see another day. We admire them. In an environment living its future in the ruins of a past say they've the attitude of a welcome in culture of way. Investing in Pandora we invested in them, invested in us. They'll rob a storage, invite with a smile for a treat barely hiding its treaty providing what we eat. But if you know the outer reaches wasteland like we do you'll see the symbolism of respect in sharing food with strangers. Their reality systemically connected with ours. When they're in danger we're next and security protects all of us in that context. Rigged encounters are on the rise. The diving continues in the nests. We're unsure of progress. At times the tension deludes. Are we poaching tigers. A click and a shaft is temporarily lit. The terrifying wait for a thud to resonate In the shafts, everything feels late. 'The bladerunner at beta one by the flight pods' 'one minute' 'did you see' 'the beast heres blocking the..' 'he was selling alive armadillos by engine parts to ij-1s' 'will need to pull it away somehow' 'who gets an armadillo at an outpost I wonder' 'its way too heavy' 'weighs less than the stuff youre moving' 'what are you on about?' as a team we're supposed to take on anything in the vaults lives anything on occasion the fabric of reasoning becomes one with this anything 'can any of you two explain what youre doing' 'we got a code one, move' code one means we got to make it back to entry zero time 'anyone heard someone get an armadillo' something's happened 'will you shut it' the x9's flow in the ridges '[ ] warriors do when in the area. in the mountains they're prized to wander the shrines' 'really?' 'they scare the local looters more than these tigers were to' 'full of it' 'they do buy them' we know the stakes they say theres a sorrow that doesnt chill doesnt ill relieving instead it stills in time to its wills we become more than what it sought in us to kill we knew the stakes we didnt know the toll they had code one everyone graciously sparrows in formation here then gone something big was happening it's highly unlikely unlikely within firms in syndicate bets sec gone mole a hidden fail-safe sector start now it's all about to fall apart oh see, no one understands but somewhere, someone really gets why will reason matter among honorable men when disguised as security the clerics flushed the den weakened the strongholds surely someone figured if at any time, then emergency shuttles to port Malcolm from where we watched the shut down city dwell in silence and when the wraiths lift above us we prayed for all our faults. |