Day 010: Able to Speak With Kane
Summary: Quinn speaks on the vid-com with Councilor Kane.
Date: 15 May 2016
Related: None directly.
Kane Quinn 

Tech Tent, The Camp

This tent is really nothing more than a taut stretch of sun-bleached blue and gold parachute pulled taut into a large eaves. One side of it has been attached to the outer wall of the dropship, while the opposite corners have been tied tightly to the tops of some thick sapling poles. Evergreen branches have been used to make a screen-like wall adjacent to the dropship wall, creating a little corner of protection. The rest of the tent is open to the remainder of the camp so that the communication relay can get the best signal. Inside the tent, a couple of small, crude tables has been made from dropship panels and tree stumps.

A panel to the dropship remains open, and thick power cords have been drawn out to provide power to the various equipment that is being set up in the tent. While there is still an absolute lack of real, true-hearted technology, the rough approximations the delinquents now have are not all that bad.

The two-feed AV monitor has been set up on a short table at the back of the tent to provide a little privacy, and a couple of dropship chairs have been pulled in to give people somewhere to sit while talking to the Ark. Using the AV monitor is a precarious business, as the video often has feedback static now and then and sometimes the audio cuts out, but it does give the camp a leyline to their people, even if most aren't entirely sure they need the people on the Ark anymore.

10 Days After Landing

The Tech Tent has been a busy place, with Delinquents anxiously waiting their turn to speak with family and friends, or lingering around the tent trying to talk themselves into or out of speaking with family or friends. The line is disrupted, however, with a specific call. Someone goes running for Quinn, with the message that Councilor Kane wants to speak with her. On the screen in the tent, Marcus Kane's bearded, serious face stares into the screen, waiting with near-patience.

It's a call she's been hoping to make after all the talk of supplies, and coordinates. So when someone comes to find her she moves quickly across the camp to the tech tent, ducking in to head for the screen. She takes a brief moment to collect her thoughts, compose herself, then she steps up in front of it, "Councilor Kane."

Kane nods sharply in greeting, "Quinn." There's no 'Miss' like Jaha would use, and his words are brisk, "I already give Grey the coordinates for the nearest supply depot we think might have survived. What else can I help you with about the depot?" His narrow brows lift slightly in question, "Or is there something else that I can help you with?"

"I wonder what you can tell me about the area that it landed in, you've got a much better idea of what we might be walking into terrain wise than we do right now." Quinn replies, not seeming to be too ruffled by the brisk words, her arms crossing over her chest, "And can you give them to me again?"

The Councilor glances over to a screen alongside the vid-monitor, "Well, to start with, it's not anything that we dropped. We've managed to dig into our archives and discover the location of a civil defense supply depot near your location." His arms flex slightly where he leans on the table before him, looming over the monitor, "I've heard that the Potomac has shifted course, so I can't guarantee that our information is current, but it was just north of a city called Gainesville. It should be eight or nine kilometers south of your location." At the request for the coordinates, he nods, glances at the monitor to make sure that she's ready, and then rattles off a string of numbers that should relate to one or more of the maps that were on the dropship.

The numbers are repeated, and even written with a fingertip to help commit them to memory. "So we're looking at a river being nearby?" She nods, taking that information and storing it as well, "South of us by eight or nine clicks, and if we hit Gainsville we've gone too far. You have any idea what kind of structure we're looking for?"

"There used to be a lake just south of Gainesville, but I don't know that there was anything I would call a river." Kane continues to glance between the monitor with the data and the camera, "Our records show that it was an underground location close to a quarry. I don't know how much of the surrounding territory has changed. There should be steel doors on the surface, however, which leads me to believe that it may still be intact."

"Locked, I assume?" Quinn seems to be making mental notes as he talks, and to decide on what follow-up questions she has. "Anything else, in general, you can think of that'll help us get in to this place?"

Kane considers the question, then shakes his head, "I would assume that either the doors are locked or otherwise sealed, or the depot has been looted again. If that's the case, we'll have to find you a more distant location." He frowns thoughtfully, "The boots on the ground…" he pauses a moment, wondering at the expression actually being true and then gives his head a little shake to clear it and continues, "make the calls, Quinn. We taught you that as a Cadet. You know as much or more about the world down there than we do now." He pauses a moment, "I'm not giving information to competing expeditions, am I? I should not need to tell you that competition within the camp for resources is unacceptable."

Quinn smirks very faintly at his words, one brow twitching upwards a fraction of an inch, "How many more depots are there records of, in general?" She's not asking for more coordinates, just a ballpark figure. "As for competition, you can rest assured that we're all working together as a team down here. Perfect harmony."

"We've been searching outward from your location. We haven't found anything closer than Mount Weather or the Gainesville depot. We'll continue searching, but we have our own problems up here as well." The suggestion that all is sweetness and light in the camp draws a very old-fashioned look from the Councilor, the sort of look that Cadets who try to hide blemishes in their boots might get… if the Security Officer deigned to check up on them more than once or twice, "Even the best teenagers have trouble dealing with one another, Quinn. But I have high hopes that you and your fellow Cadets," apparently it's not 'ex-Cadets' now that they might be reunited, "are maintaining order."

"Let us know if you find any more, we'll be heading to the one in Gainesville soon. I'll make sure there's someone here that can take the coordinates of any you might find." Quinn doesn't sound like she believes there will be more, but never hurts to prepare. "Anything else you need to relay to me before I get back?"

Kane shakes his head. Another man, Jaha perhaps, would have given an inspirational comment at the end of the transmission. Kane is not that type of leader. "Nothing more. I believe… 'Tracy Porter' is next?" That would be Trace, he of the hatchet. "His father wishes to speak with him."

"I'll send him in." Quinn replies, then just steps away from the talk without a bye, or any expectation of an inspirational comment. She's far more comfortable with the lack of pleasantries that Kane offers than she is with someone blowing smoke up her ass.

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