Breakwall - 3.0 - Between the Waves
Blackout Day
Breakwall - Episode 3.0 - Jonny returns to the Albatross to collect payment from the Gunrunners only to discover that her contact has different ideas. Follow us on Twitter for news and updates. Join us on discord to hang out with cast and crew!
CREDITS:
Abigail Turner as Jonny
Alexander Doddy as Nick Ballard
Aubrey Poppleton as Gunrunner
Luke A. as Waylon
Episode 2.5 Listing
Chris Henry as Eddy
Oscar 'Ozz' Ruso as Joe
---
Dan Boud as the Narrator
Written, Designed and Edited by Damian Szydlo
Script Editing by Jupiter Sanders
Show theme by Doug Maxwell
Music and Sound Effects from Syrinscape & Audioblocks
TRANSCRIPT
[The night street is teeming with life as Jonny makes her way through the crowd, approaching the Albatross. Street buzz, voices and racket invade the listeners ears as the narrator begins to speak]
Blackout Day was a complicated event in Arcadia. To some it was a sort of independence day. For others, it was the day District 2 gave up on the Neo-Atlantean dream of a better, ever evolving human existence. It chose for itself the freedom of exile. The day marked a crowning culmination of powerful unrest where refugees had demanded a place of their own in Neo-Atlantis and were prepared to take that by any means necessary… even if it meant losing almost every ‘privilege’ that they’d sought from the city. Afterall, even a life lived on the borders of greatness was preferable to what they’d left in the old world.
Jonny picked her way through crowded streets with purpose. The sound of light rain drizzling upon canopies and umbrellas accompanied the sounds of a makeshift night market that had formed for the occasion. The scent of cooked meat and spices that might have been considered exotic in any place but this city infiltrated her nose to remind her she had yet to eat today.
JONNY
[Speaking into her recorder]
“I’ve always felt out of place on Blackout Day. Not tryin’ to be dramatic but isn’t it a bit like celebrating a birth on the same day as a death? I’m walking on streets that used to be covered in the same solar panels we’ve ripped out and repurposed to hook directly into an infrastructure that’s jury-rigged and old world at best. So, a little Neo-Atlantean history lesson for you, then. The way Revik tells it is that back in 2067 when Dark Fathom popped the EMP bomb that put us in this state they did so to one purpose. To irreparably damage the district so that Kraken would never be able to fix it. Sounds nuts, right? It’s a game of chicken with god as your opponent. The corp had two options after Dark Fathom called a checkmate. Drop Arcadia into the sea and start over again… or figure that they’d never keep all us undesirable riff-raff out of their paradise forever. To keep Arcadia as… well I suppose as a catch basin of sorts. It isn’t all that hard to guess which way they went since Arcadia is still standing. Every city needs it’s underbelly, afterall… and Neo-Atlantis had settled it’s demand for one.”
Reaching her destination she stowed the thought of her mentor and his history lessons and quickened the pace to cross the street and push her way through the Albatross’ doors.
Much like the street outside, the Albatross was unusually busy. To a casual observer the crowd might have even looked like that of a normal club… at least until figuring that every person in the place was a criminal of some stripe or another. Blackout Day did strange things to this town though, and even an out of the way hub like this one was a destination. Scanning the crowd it wasn’t long before her cybereye came up with a positive match for her contact. The gunrunner she’d spoken to through Intra-Call wore the same dodgy expression on his face now as he had during their meeting. With a roll of her eyes she noted he was seated in one of the poorly lit corner booths men like him often favored. The ones that made them feel secretive and in control. His eyes were glued on the translucent surface of his Holo-Comm though she couldn’t make out the projection on the screen as she approached.
JONNY
[Clears her throat, impatient to get this over with.]
“We doin’ this or what?”
GUNRUNNER
“Well isn’t it ‘Just Jonny’. Why don’t you have a seat? Give me some details.”
JONNY
“I’d rather just get paid and walk, if I’m to be honest. A debriefing wasn’t part of the deal.”
GUNRUNNER
“You’re right, it wasn’t. Let’s call it… a courtesy to the Gunrunners. It’d go a long way. How about I say that there’s a curiosity going around in how things went down in the Zone.”
With a hesitant sigh, Jonny shook her head before sitting down across from the now grinning Gunrunner as he tucked his Holo-Com into his jacket. She didn’t like giving up position so early in this exchange but this sort of professional courtesy wasn’t a big ask. Etiquette in these meetings could sometimes be a delicate dance… even with assholes like this one. He slid a small case with three vials of blue liquid across the table. Lucidity. It had become a popular club drug over the past few years with the Neo-Atlantean elite.
JONNY
“I don’t use. That stuff makes you… look, nevermind. Short of it is that I arrived on site to find the Troka had made the job easy. They’d gathered up all four crates in the foundation of some blown up building. They were smart enough to build some makeshift walls around the pit and had brought in tools to force the crates open… along with guns to defend their score. Even still, they were having a hard time getting them open. It got even harder for them when I started sending bullets their way. It got messy but I had every advantage so it was over fast. Brought in a Flight-Car with a hitch to air lift the crates out of that hole one at a time to be delivered into the waiting hands of your people. But you already know that part. Happy?”
GUNRUNNER
“Very. I’m told most of the guns survived the drop. I was also told there might have been a fifth crate?”
JONNY
[Jonny pauses a moment, a smile crossing her lips.]
“You’re right about that. Spotted something you didn’t for a little bonus. I was upfront about biting off a piece for myself if I could. Knew you’d be upset if I sold them so I figured I’d just go ahead and keep the little beauties for myself. Five chips and a couple Morays isn’t bad for a days work.”
GUNRUNNER
[Starting to get impatient and is annoyed at losing some of his perceived advantage]
“Not bad indeed. It would have been… ‘professional’ to have given me first bid on them. I’ll tell you what. How about I give you three extra chips for the pistols. That’s eight chips for a job well done and we save the Gunrunners any possible disappointment.
JONNY
“Don’t low-key threaten me. The deal is already done. Should have wrote first bid terms into the contract if you’d wanted ‘em. Besides, these shooters have sentimental value to me already. Went through a lot to get that spare case so I’m going to be honest with you... Who do you think the Gunrunners are going to be more disappointed with? A smart merc or a shite-for-brains broker too high to cut a proper deal? Let’s have those chips before you embarrass yourself further. We’re done.”
Crossing her arms she leaned back in the booth as she’d wrongly assumed the man to be rummaging in his deep pockets for her payment. Her eyebrows raised as she was instead met with the surprise of a pistol he let her see before subtly sliding the piece under the table.
JONNY
[Suddenly dead calm, even if still surprised by the bold threat.]
“Bold to be pulling that out inside a Hub. Stow it away and I’ll assume the Lucidity’s got your blood pumping too heavy. Last and only chance I’m giving you.”
GUNRUNNER
“You don’t get it. I need those pistols or I’m going to lose favor. I’ve come too fucking far to lose any momentum at this point. I pull this off and I’m a made man. I’m not going to let some merc screw me out of that. Take the deal, the offer’s fair.”
JONNY
“Your offer is so much bullshit. I don’t make deals at the point of a gun. Hold on a quick second, will you.”
[Comm Beep]
“Management, please.”
GUNRUNNER
[Threateningly]
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
A frenzied, desperate panic entered the eyes of Tucker Casteel. The celebratory Lucidity that he’d injected, so sure of himself… roared through him, the beat of the music pounding through his blood on behalf of the drug. Too much, he thought. He’d taken too much and was now a slave to impulse, the dose that had previously been propping up his confidence now locked onto his fear of failure. His desperation. Suddenly he found himself standing, his bulky Atlas Renegade pistol pointed directly at the defiant merc. At this sprawl scum who had only moments ago been entertained in watching him fail. Sweat poured down his brow as a twisted grin spread across his face.
GUNRUNNER
“See what you made me do? See what you fucking made me do!?”
JONNY
[Her tone now somewhat sad for what she knows is about to happen next.]
“I do. For all it’s worth I’m sorry for it, too.”
The music in the club suddenly cut out, stopped by Nick Ballard as he slammed his fist on the bar in-front of him. As if to emphasize his rage; two light machine guns slid down from their concealed panels in the Albatross’ ceiling; immediately targeting the identified threat.
NICK
“What’s this then!? Guns up, huh? Guns all up and out? The nerve on you, you FUCK! Holster it before I have you put on ice! As long as my body ain’t sitting at the bottom of the ocean this place is still a Hub and you WILL respect MY god damn rules!
GUNRUNNER
“Who are you kidding, you dried up has-been? You wouldn’t dare…”
[The whine of light machine guns accompany the spray of bullets as Tucker’s gun wielding arm is separated from his body. Tucker cries out]
GUNRUNNER
“My arm! You blew off my fucking… Arm…”
NICK
“You’re god-damned right I did.”
The vice-like grip of a large android; clearly a former builder like Revik had once been; roughly seized the shocked body of Mr. Casteel before yanking him from his feet and ‘escorting’ him to the backdoor exit of the Albatross. Meanwhile the tracked bar drone was already sliding both the disenfranchised arm of the offender and his weapon into a disposal bin. Jonny assumed it would be right back to efficiently mop up the blood and section off the booth so that business could continue as usual in the wake of the disturbance. She’d assumed right.
NICK
“Clean up that mess and get the music back on! This is still a party, right? Jonny. Come here! [Calming himself] If you would. It’s a request, not a demand.”
JONNY
“That was all a bit dramatic, wasn’t it?”
NICK
“Maybe so. It’s been awhile since anyone was fool enough to draw inside the Albatross. There are alot of outsiders under our roof tonight. Serves as a good reminder that there are still laws that must be observed… and there isn’t anyone above those rules. Not in our business.”
JONNY
“You’re not afraid the Gunrunners will have something to say about that?”
NICK
“Not in the slightest. By now what our boy did is getting picked up by every Hub in Arcadia. That jackass won’t be welcome to do business in any place worth a damn going forward. He’s Jinxed. The Gunrunners, like the other factions, abide by the same law. The one that keeps this all running.”
JONNY
“Right. The Underworld Accord. The deal was done.”
NICK
“Done and logged in Hub records. We’ll take care of your payout until the Gunrunners reimburse us. We don’t hold people to new deals… or rob a merc at gunpoint after we’ve closed one. The Gunrunners will honour it before cutting Mr. Casteel off. All this is well and good, but it’s not why I called you over.”
JONNY
“No? Just a spot of convenient timing then?”
NICK
“I’d call it more unfortunate than convenient. I’ve got a deal of my own to cut tonight and I was hoping you might consider making some more chips.”
Jonny looked back to the booth where the little janitorial drone was cleaning up the smear of blood from the booth’s wall, it’s thin, extendable arm spounging up the mess. In a normal club, what had happened was usually the end of the night. With this tough crowd though, it only served to reassure them; the dramatic show of force doing it’s work to reinforce the house’s rules as unbreakable… promising their safety from further ‘outbursts’ such as the one that had occured. Turning back to the bartender, Jonny regarded him with an expectant look, her brow wrinkled in acceptance as she nodded to herself.
JONNY
“Alright. You can color me interested, then. It’s not like you to take out jobs, Nick. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of you sponsoring work directly. This personal?”
NICK
“It’s not personal as much as it’s just… necessary. Truthfully it’s of more import to the Hub then it is to me. Normally wouldn’t ask someone so soon after a job’s closed, either. Downtime’s important for a merc. But I need someone I can trust on it, sooner rather than later.”
JONNY
[Jonny tries to lighten the mood up by switching to a friendly teasing manner.]
“And you feel we’ve got that trust, do you?”
NICK
[Comforted by the more casual turn, picks up the playfulness]
“We’re still dealin’, aren’t we? Don’t make me lay it all out on the table for you. It’d ruin our whole dynamic, don’t you think?”
JONNY
“We wouldn’t want to spoil the mystique, no. What is it that you’ve gotten yourself into?”
NICK
“Fell into a situation, to be sure. I vetted a job with the Utopian Society. They’d dispatched a contact of theirs, holed him up in a spot not far from here for a few days… Long enough for me to get someone on it who was right for the job. What I gathered is that they wanted someone extracted, pulled out of somewhere tight. They were very closed lipped about the details which was more than enough to make me careful about the whole damned thing. Intuition proved to be spot on as our man turned up dead this afternoon. Word has it that he was gunned down in a ‘professional manner’.”
JONNY
“Can’t do much if the contact is dead, Nick. The Utopians aren’t likely to reach out again, right?”
NICK
“You’re right about that. And wrong. They’ll just reach out to someone else and be more careful about it next time. Which is why I want to reach back before they do. I figure a strong enough psychic, tuned for the job… might be able to give us something if we can get them to the murder scene. If I can get a lead, I can leverage it back against the Utopians and make something of this job yet.”
JONNY
“That’d be a trick. Never seen a psychic tuned like that before. Heard stories though. Could be too high a price tag to pull in someone like that for a job that might not even be a-go at this point.”
NICK
“Considered that, yeah. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve for it. About four months ago, I came upon some bonus intel. A bit of information that’s valuable to the type of man that might be able to speak to a ghost. We’ve got a bit of a past though, he and I. Short of it is that I need you to watch his back while he gets the info we’re looking for. His payment will be the data. You’re free to review it. Your pay on the other hand will be four chips and stakes on the job that comes from this little outing. Don’t haggle me either, Jonny. I’m calling in every favor I’ve got. If this is as big as I think it’s going to be… the pay will be much bigger than chips.”
Jonny closed her eyes for a moment in an effort to concentrate her thoughts. This whole thing was a roll of the dice for the Albatross to be getting involved in. A leap of faith that told her that Nick ‘needed’ this or else he’d have passed on it. She knew better than to get into hub politics with the man though. Truth was her part of the deal was fair and rather uncomplicated. Broker an arrangement with this psychic while making sure he survives the investigation. It hadn’t been the first time she’d been required to play guardian angel.
JONNY
“Alright. I can live with it. I… I want you to know that I trust you, fool that I am. The Albatross has been fair to me; truth be told I’d have done it for less.”
NICK
“I’ll remember that for the next time we cut a deal. So then… can I expect that the Deal is Done?”
JONNY
“The Deal is Done.”
[TRANSITION]
The message had been a simple one, straight to the point. She’d sent it knowing that there was some personal weight that went along with it. Knowing full well that it would not be the sort of message that she’d like to recieve, if the shoe was on the other foot.
“I have information about Alex. Meet me at the smugglers junction in an hour.”
The data that Nick had passed off to her wasn’t what she’d expected it to be. Leads on a missing girl named Alex Webb. It seemed fairly routine stuff, over four years cold at this point. Even still, the bartender had assured him that it’d be enough to secure the services of this investigator.
Leaning her back against the base of the Breakwall itself, she stood only a few meters from one of the many canals that led into the city proper. Jonny couldn’t help but wonder if this had been the place where her family had tried to gain entry into the city so many years ago. It was almost dizzying, looking up at the looming wall that seemed to disappear into the night sky above. She imagined boatloads of desperate refugees trying to scale one side of the enormous structure from the deck of some creaky ship, in the pouring rain no doubt… only to have to descend the other side of it under the pressure of gunfire. It was a wonder, almost an impossibility that a young girl might have lived to see this meeting at all.
Movement pulled her mind from contemplation as the night compensation in her eye activated before zooming in on an approaching figure. He was shrouded in a classically styled trench coat that had seen a lot of wear. To complete the private investigator throwback ensemble, he wore a brimmed hat drawn low over his face. Not low enough that she couldn’t make out the amphibious features and scales that marked him as one of the Mer, illuminated by the soft glow of a cigarette.
The Mer were Kraken’s last and latest attempt at playing god in view of the public eye. Spliced and bred from cloning technology back in 2082, they were supposedly bred to work on the turbines below the city. A forced evolutionary step for mankind, alien even to the likes of fellow synthetics and androids; Jonny knew full well that the Mer had a tough time in Neo-Atlantis because of what they were. The latent psychic ability many of their kind were found to possess didn’t help the prejudice, even when psionic implants were as commonly available as quality cybernetic enhancements these days. Old bigotry and mistrust often died hard, even in the new world.
WAYLON
“A poor evening for an outdoor meeting.”
JONNY
“It can’t rain all the time.”
WAYLON
“Indeed. It’s been… a very long time since I’ve heard anyone say those words. You’re in business with Nick Ballard, then?”
JONNY
“Today that’s a truth. Tomorrow, maybe not. I’m a merc. Jonny’s the name. Nick sent me to watch your back while you do some work for him.”
WAYLON
“A pleasure. I’m afraid that I do not work for… or with… Mr. Ballard. I’m… sorry but I regret that you have wasted your time.”
With a tip of his hat, Waylon began to turn before Jonny caught his arm. Her grip wasn’t hard, enough to give him a momentary pause rather then restrain. His large, fish-like eyes stared at her with a strange empathy that seemed to permeate her very being. Her own eyes widened uncomfortably as she realized that the sudden physical contact had established an involuntary psychic link between them and that he was patiently waiting for her to realize this and let go of him. Uncomfortably, she removed her hand from his arm before trying to shake the strange feeling from her body.
JONNY
“That… was intense. I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”
WAYLON
“I understand. I did not mean to emphatically intrude. It sometimes comes unbidden. Moments between waves.”
JONNY
“No… it’s fine. I shouldn’t have… Look, Nick told me you wouldn’t want to work with him. He also said that this might change your mind.”
WAYLON
“It is unlikely anything will change my resolve in regards to Mr. Ballard. Perhaps I am happy to leave the past in the past.”
JONNY
“Not even if it’s about Alex? Not sure to the weight of any of this or how to make sense of what I’m reading but I scanned the data. There’s details on what happened to her in here and I think… from what I’m reading that she could still be out there. Alive, you know?”
It was as if Waylon’s cold blood had turned to ice. She knew she’d struck an immediate cord with the man as his jaw slackened, an uncomfortable look finding its way to replace a formally inexpressive visage. Whatever resolve he’d built up, carefully prepared in an attempt not to get involved with Nick quickly came undone.
WAYLON
“That case… couldn’t be solved. I didn’t want to give up on her. The leads dried up and the more I dug into it, the further I found myself from answers. I’m not naive. It was a cover up… surgical memory suppressors were created over twenty years ago and have only gotten more efficient. Alex was a friend. She deserved… better. She was kind to me. Perhaps we can arrange an exchange of information. Of services.”
JONNY
“Figured you might see it my way. Don’t have to be a psychic to know that look. We’ve all got skeletons in our closets… I don’t suppose you’re happy about the circumstance but we should all be so lucky for some closure or even a second chance? Enough of that, I suppose. Let’s get a move on. I’ll debrief you on the way to the crime scene. I expect the sooner this is done, the better for all of us.”