The Mundane [Open to NO, see note at beginning.]

[Thexare]

(// One-off posts about day-to-day life in the Natio. Open to all citizens, but all posts are intended to be self-contained.)

---

Sittin' in the morning sun
I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes
Watchin' the ships roll in
And I'll watch 'em roll away again, yeah...

Escher sat at his desk, mulling over dozens of reports he'd received from even more contacts, some willing, some coerced, and some completely unknowingly. Kelly walked in, carrying another data card with her.

"Not the song I'd have expected, Escher. Anyway, here's that report on ammunition sales on Houston. No idea what the hell you wanted that for."

"Data analysis is a vital part of intelligence operations, Kelly. Even the most mundane change can have far-reaching effects. Say there's a particularly abundant harvest at Miyazaki. This bolsters Samura's profits, obviously. But that money goes somewhere else. Like the Farmers Alliance, who would already be spurred on by the show of Kusari superiority in food production and would be eager to further hinder Synth Foods. This would, naturally, lead to a further imbalance in Samura's favor, quite possibly a self-perpetuating cycle until corrected by outside influence."

"I know damn well how intelligence works, Escher. But this is far more specific than normal."

"There's a pattern in the data. I'm following up with a targeted report to see if I'm correct. Any other questions?"

"Do you always have to be such an ass-" But Kelly was cut off by her sister, who had just entered the room.

"You two keep this up and I'm locking you in a room until you either screw each other or kill each other. We all expect the first one, which is good because looking at Esch... Hell, you might kill him either way."

"God damn it, Nat, what do you want?!" Kelly demanded.

"To lighten the mood, mostly. That, and we got Obstacle Corpse to play at Siren's Call, thought you might wanna come."

"I'll pass, thanks," Kelly replied, grateful for the sudden topic change. "Already made plans."

"I have work to do here," Escher said, returning his focus to the screen.

"Come on, we all need to relax sometimes."

"That's true. But I also have work that has to be done. Tell me, how much do you know about data analysis? Interested in learning?"

"Uh.. No. No I'm not."

"Then you see my problem."

---

"In Liverpool on Sunday, no traffic on the avenue..." a young blonde quietly sang, waiting at her post outside a construction site. She wore the distinctive uniform of Aquila Defense Systems security personnel, which consisted primarily of a modified Iron Quill armor jacket, dark red with gold trim. Its light shield generator provided adequate protection to the entire body against small arms fire, and planetary security rarely met with much more. At each hip was a handgun; her right, a Wahlberg Raven revolver, and her left, the new Sanford Model 13 electrolaser.

This shift, like almost all of them, was quiet and uneventful. The only interesting thing is that the next guard was already an hour late, but he finally showed up shortly after she started singing.

"Hey Eve, sorry I'm late. A speeder wrecked, slammed into some scaffolding. I was busy helping the cleanup crew."

"Oh, that's alright, you didn't miss much. Just a drunk stumbling down the road and singing Turn The Page. Terribly, of course," she explained, taking off her jacket.

"Well, we can't all be as good as you. What was that song earlier, anyway?"

"No idea, to be honest. It's one my aunt used to sing, back when I lived with her. Reminds me of home."

Max had finished putting his armor on and started inspecting his rifle, an older 310-Delta. "Thinking about going back?" he asked, loading a magazine into the gun after confirming that the safety was on.

"No. There's a lot of work here, but it feels good. We're building something here, this isn't just lining some Gateway executive's pockets. Honestly, I liked it more before the Division and Ageira started their operations here, but I guess the colony needs the extra money."