story_skfire_1_1

You hear? The Mountbelan girl's back in old Victoria, smack dab in the middle of Caladon.

Here? I thought she'd be off in a bigger city. There's no place more infected than this, and didn't it have a bout of Reunion or something too? I thought she couldn't stand all that?

She's working for the council.

Ahh—the council. The venerable city council. She probably has it easy as could be.

Is that all you're interested in? I thought you'd be delighted.

Delighted? About what?

Haven't you been wanting a leg up for that factory of yours? We all know she's got her head up her behind, and you know what she's done before. She hates the Infected to death.

So now she's working for the council. You find her, let her know what's in it for her, tell her about your factory, and there you go—

...What is this? An invitation?

'We cordially invite you on this day... to share in our celebrations. Champagne tasting and tours... tonight at 8 P.M. We hope to see you there.'

A class reunion? Sometimes it really does puzzle me how something both so time-wasting, and so difficult to refuse, ever got folded into 'etiquette.'

I'll go once hours are over. I just hope the rotten lot of them don't give me any—

Mmph. No, bad. No need for anger on the job.

Let's just get ourselves straight to work.

Oh, hello, old friend. Just last week we met at the drinking party. Your magnificent visage stole the breath from quite a number of people! They've been clamoring to have you back again!

My face, is it?

They're just after my estate. I'm not sure I can blame them; it turned me what would normally be a year's profits in a few short months.

Aren't people still praising Count Adam's dashing appearance, even though his hair resembles corn silk more than anything by now?

*cough*! You haven't changed a whit.

Now, profits, though, you'll want to hear about my winery. I think you'll find that's the real last say...

(Jockeying with each other, flaunting assets, backstabbing the absent. Hmph. These people don't change one jot.)

Count Ambulas, my factory has been set on the right track, and I owe it to your kind attention! But before it can tithe you further profits, I will need just the tiniest sum more...

Ah-hah-hah, it's a true honor you should still remember me! I was sat right behind you, if you remember!

If you'd be willing to cast an eye over my estate, I'd be greatly thankful! ...Ah, I see. Sorry to bother you...

(Treating a dinner party as a springboard up... these people do love their flattery. Honestly... what a typical sight.)

(I've been here for long enough—it's time I left. It'll take a while to get back to Caladon too.)

Miss Mountbelan?

Hm?

Miss Mountbelan, it really is you!

You must try some of the champagne tonight, I'll bring you a glass...

Of all the places to meet you! Do you still remember me? I was sat right behind you in class. I see you've found yourself a fine job!

Excuse me. If it's nothing urgent, I have my own business to attend to.

Ah, well, here's the thing, I hear you're working for the council now, and I just so happen to run a little factory. It's nothing too grand, but...

With just the right opportunity, it could turn a profit on par with Isabella's estate! And naturally I'd give you—my good official—a fabulous token of my thanks.

So, for example, anything council-related...

I have absolutely no interest.

(Could it... be this girl has no clue what my factory even does?)

(She's not one bit less sheltered. Nobles... snooty bloodline-obsessed elitists, the lot of them... Am I not being <i>deferential</i> enough for you—?!)

Miss Mountbelan, my factory is right here in Caladon, if you didn't know. And it's only even here thanks to the great pains I know you and the councilors have gone to.

Haven't you always hated those lowly brutes? I know they paid quite the rightful price for what they did to your beloved pet.

But now—thanks to these policies—the council has finally turned its head our way, hasn't it? Those lowly people exist for our sakes, and I've picked up by now on how to make good and proper use of them—

If I could just grasp one inch further, I'm sure results would be even more plentiful. And you, Miss Mountbelan, would have me doing all I could to repay your kindness!

(How about I burn him to—

No. No.)

You know, I'm finding it a little oddly hot in here.

Miss Mountbelan, what do you say? How about we step outside and chat?

(Can I really not just—

No, no. I can't.)

Here's my business card. Please, by all means!

...Hrmmph. Let me see.

'Barum's Works'?

Exactly!

I see. Well, Barum's Works.

Have you heard of it?

Of course.

We've discussed plans for new acts where your factory has served as a case study.

My professor and I kept tabs on your factory in private too. 'Barum's Works' was top of the list that came in.

Ah, really! Now that's an honor! Then may I...?

I've already signed a non-disclosure agreement.

Of course! Naturally you wouldn't be the sort to break confidentiality! I was just hoping you could let me in on a little of the council chatter, some teatime topics, maybe we could chew the cud on this or that.

Such as...

Such as the act we're imminently proposing regarding working hours?

Exactly!

If I could invite you to my factory for a look around, I'd be utterly honored...

Miss Mountbelan, you have my gratitude for deigning to come here. I had them clean the place thorough a few days ago. Not a speck of dust left!

Didn't I tell you I was here to see things as they are?

Oh, well, cleaning up some dust off to the side wouldn't impact your understanding of how our factory operates.

I don't mean to boast, but you see, the scale of this place—

Not top of the line for Caladon, but remarkable all the same.

I see facilities and protective measures are kept in good order. In the light of present regulations, your site is a clean pass.

Security measures are also fully replete as stipulated.

Miss Mountbelan, I see you've been underestimating me. It's only natural such fundamental work is well done.

How about we take a look at the workshop? It's Infected, however, so even with protective measures ready, I'm sure you wouldn't want to go insi—

I would.

Miss Mountbelan?

Ah, I see, it's that kerfuffle from a few years ago. You want to see if there's any traces of that whole... Reunion Movement inside?

Hm?

Mm, yes, Reunion.

My workers here have all gone through background checks, but you can rest assured, if you're displeased to see <i>anyone</i> in there, you can be sure I'll—

I'll have to see for myself.

Yes, I understand, you'd better get your protective gear on, then. I'll just have to brave the elements...

Is this the place? Where are the workers?

Miss Mountbelan, I didn't think you'd be so concerned with a place like this. How could I possibly have you mingling with Infected? I've ordered them all out for the time being, and the purifier installations are on at maximum.

Let's not stay in here for too long. I'll be honest, this is my first time in here too... er, in a while, I mean.

Ah. I'm just taking a look around.

After all, by your accounts, this place has made you a pretty penny, so my interest is natural. Moreover, did you forget? I and my professor have been keeping a watch on your factory for some time now.

Yes, and I'm honored for it.

Infected are both convenient and less demanding in the way of assurances. I have to thank the council for providing such a fine workforce.

What are those?

Ah, surveillance devices.

We both know, you see, how people tend to skive without motivation or supervision.

And these riot shields?

Ahh. Even less of a concern. Infected don't take simply to discipline, nor are they content with what they have. I imagine you know better than I do. Without a method or two at hand, they'd never stay placid.

Aren't you concerned that just leaving your riot control gear here might cause fear in the Infected, even elicit disorder?

Well... hah-hah, you worry too much, Miss Mountbelan.

They don't see it.

They don't what...?

—Miss Mountbelan, we've been in here for a while now. Should we step out? Even with all the precautions, there's always an off-chance.

Let's take the lift out and pull that gear off, and take some deep breaths. Nice, deep breaths!

Miss Mountbelan, old friend, there's no one but you and me in this lift, so let me be a little honest with you. This may just interest you more in my factory?

Don't be too disappointed with what you've seen. Putting all that aside, you've noticed, haven't you?

The surveillance and riot control staff, and the armed installations. You can't make all your money in the open, you know that.

What's down below us is the real deal.

But it's too filthy underground. You won't need to cast your own eye.

I see.

Mm. I am very—satisfied with what you've just told me.

It's very interesting.

Once again, the alumnus feels the temperature rise a notch.

He ascribes this to Skyfire's excitement at the opportunity. To make money, to continue trampling over the disgorged masses.

Even beasts in the wild know they should only pounce when they see prey. If I didn't show you the genuine article, I worry you'd be left cold.

Factories are a garden variety thing. I need something new in the works too, you know?

Ha! So I see.

Hah-hah-hah-hah, well, come, Miss Mountbelan. I've had this fine tipple stashed for years. Let's toast!

To your sponsoring a factory of much potential, and my soon-to-be debut upon a bigger stage!

Hahaha.

Cheers.

Skyfire's temperature rises, starting from underfoot.

In just a blink, a fraction of a second, she could burn this whole factory to nothing, and save all the people trapped below.

But in another blink, she suppresses the smoldering rage in her head.

Professor, did you need me?

'Infected rioters identifying as 'Reunion' gravely hurt by organization known as 'King's Wand.'' That's what the news is reporting.

Professor, they killed Phil!

And how you resolved the issue was hardly the only way to do so.

If you let an eye for an eye blind you, Miss Mountbelan, then that is altogether contrary to how I've taught you.

Have you forgotten what I first told you?

The issue of the Reunion Movement is not solely a matter of the Infected. If you wish to continue the way you're going, then go to the place I recommended you. Deepen your studies. See the outside, and I mean that.

Don't disappoint me, Miss Mountbelan. You're a student of plentiful notions. Don't let your own emotions stifle you. Look past them.

Flames can burn anything you want to cinders, but they can't solve problems.

Stood there in the factory, she pinches the wine glass and settles her somewhat unsteady breathing.

I imagine you know when the next council meeting is.

Look forward to the good news.

Hah, hahahah, thank you, Miss Mountbelan!

Here's the long and short of it, Professor.

Barum's Works. One of the factories on the list when we put together the investigation into Infected rights.

I'd consulted you on it, whereupon we decided to send a spy to sniff around in secret. I've assembled a file on the inner workings of his factory.

On top of which, I find out just a few days ago that this factory's owner was one of my very own classmates.

I initially wanted to send the whole thing up in flames—of course, I knew that was utterly wrong, and it wouldn't solve a single thing, just pile meaningless hassle on instead.

But I revile, HATE, what he did. Seeking me out at a dinner function hoping for a backdoor into the council, brazenly spilling all about his factory's machinations right in front of a Member—

His doing so is evidence that dozens upon dozens before him did the same, that countless people took to the same methods for their own underhanded gains.

Professor, it's obviously afoul of current regulations. But they've tried it, and they've found out they don't get punished, they just reap the benefits. That's what got them all to start doing it.

Truth be told, I do remember him, and I know that 'sat behind me' spiel he gave was <i>true</i> in my case.

He said the same thing to every noble there, but he did sit in the seat right behind me.

He used to... not <i>be</i> like this.

He used to be—a good egg?

Not particularly, but he was hardly what he is now... I just wonder, was this all in his nature? I don't feel like it was, Professor.

He just... tried slipping through a regulatory loophole, and found nobody even cared. And he just kept inching on and on until he got to this state.

I...

Are you—very conflicted right now, Miss Mountbelan?

No, Professor, I'm not conflicted at all. I just feel a little...

I'm not sure how to put it. But I know crystal clear what I ought to do.

Anne-Moses, if you could further debrief the Professor on this unscrupulous factory.

Yes, Miss Mountbelan.

I went into hiding near the factory per the intel Miss Mountbelan provided. My comms signal suffered severe interference whenever I approached its basement levels.

I speculate an internal comms shield is installed. The Infected workers within are completely cut off from the outside world.

Based on my observations over several days, deceased Infected have even been ported out in secret, and sent for disposal.

And armed personnel inside are dedicated to guarding the underground factory and its facilities. The Infected workers above have no inkling of what's going on. They simply assume it must be vital products or something being watched.

Based on the data provided by Miss Mountbelan, I surmise it's the previously missing groups of acutely ill Infected workers inside—

Being acutely ill makes treatment unnecessary, so they're used as disposable labor, shut in the factory underground to work to their deaths. Then the factory tosses them out, and replenishes with a new batch of Infected workers.

Hm... I see the picture now.

So, Miss Mountbelan, your method for dealing with this?

My report concludes here.

Mm, and why did we have to sit here for over ten minutes listening to you talk about this one piffling factory?

This has little bearing on us. I hope you realize that.

Did Councilor Angst really bring you here just to yank this little factory by the collar?

What I wish to point out to you all is that the core of this incident is the missing Infected workers locked away here under armed surveillance, the curtailing of personal freedoms, even the covert disposal of the <i>dead</i>.

Adding to which, they work in environments of excessive Originium particulate concentration, <i>without</i> corresponding protective measures or communications equipment. Every point here is in violation of currently enacted policy.

Said enacted policy has led Caladon to be considered relatively relaxed on the Infected, hence why it could even draw such numbers of them to work here. It's the root of the city's development.

Should this incident leak, Caladon's external image will be in smithereens, and no more Infected will think to come here for work, full stop.

All present, I trust this scenario would not be to your delight.

Thus, this will amount to no proposal, but simply a factory... cleanup. And for Caladon's reputation, the proper proceedings will be needed for a rescue of the Infected workers in the council's name.

This seizure, too, must be in the council's name, for all the wider world to see.

As for the perspectives of all present—

We'll take a vote.

Everyone, your views?

Three days later

Wh—What the—?! Who are you?

What are you coming in here for?!

Ah, er, it's all Infected in here, you see...

You lot, downstairs.

Downstairs? But downstairs is—

Sir! Large number of unlawfully armed personnel discovered!

Sir! Unlawful communications shielding terminal discovered and dismantled!

Large quantity of Infected found underground!

Basement levels have been identified as an illegal factory!

Mm. Situation verified.

Per council regulations, we are hereby shutting this location down as the law compels.

And you—as stipulated by law—may not engage in any similar business for a five-year period.

—Evacuate the Infected!

Miss Mountbelan!

Miss Mountbelan!!

Ah, it's you... what is it?

You—My factory?!

I had people turn up at my factory out of nowhere this morning, and even the underground to boot, they—what the hell happened?!

Oh! You mean the factory seizure.

Didn't you ask me for help before?

There you go. I've helped you.

Wh...?!

You caught word about me, yes, but you didn't <i>catch on</i>.

I'm not just a Member of the Council, I'm also a Rhodes Island Operator. If you're not familiar, perhaps I can illuminate you—

I work to resolve issues for the Infected.

And more importantly, I work to seek their rights for them.