<span style="color: #FFFF40">Zeke listened to yet another report. Apparently a faction of her people had tried to take down the inner circle. She sighed and rubbed her forehead, waving her hand to send the man away. He left a report file on her table and left, closing the rickety door behind himself.<br/> <br/>Once the door shut, she groaned and shut her eye, rubbing her temples. After a moment or two, she opened it again and looked around. She snorted in contempt. A ramshackle building, in the middle of a fairly crappy area. Glorious. A rickety table and crate served as a desk and chair, papers were strewn over the floor, and the door was practically falling off its hinges.<br/> <br/>She wrinkled her nose and stood up, flexing her metallic arm. "Pathetic," she said to herself. "Starvation's going to kill us before <span style="font-style: italic">Their Highnesses</span> do." She spat angrily. With no food, and this recent screw up, there was hardly anyone joining the rebellion. She could go out and talk to people, but the Horsemen (and women) were really cracking down on them, or trying to. What could she do? Who was loyal? It was hard to know. Their numbers were dwindling fast, resources were in short supply, and it seemed to be hopeless.<br/> <br/>But she knew that she had to stay strong. If she showed despair, or hopelessness, then the others would crumble, and everything she had worked for would be for naught.<br/> <br/>She ran a hand through her bangs, thinking hard. If they could figure out where the Horsemen were going next, perhaps they could plan a robbery, or blow up a warehouse. She smiled grimly. Yes, that might work. If they couldn't have resources, then dammit, neither would anyone else.</span><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">Cooper wiped her hands off on her pants and brushed her hair out of her eyes, leaving  black smudges on her forehead. "Alioop!" She swung herself up into the shell of a large, industrial machine, built for manufacturing the elaborate parts that made up the larger siege engines. This machine made the large, flexible arms of heavy duty ballistae, as well as the light metal shafts of the bolts, and other parts of the typical ballista.<br/> <br/>She slid past the moving parts, carefully making her way through the narrow maintenance passage built into the machine. Her eyes searched for the problem that had forced her to go up into that claustrophobic space. There it was-- the <span style="font-style: italic">screw</span> up that was holding up the whole production line. A screw had wriggled out and gotten caught up in the gears.<br/> <br/>She reached in, hoping the machine wouldn't jerk and take her fingers off, and hammered on the screw with her wrench, trying to dislodge it. It flew out with a TWANG and bounced around the small metal chamber, stopping when it hit her in the stomach, leaving an angry, red welt. "Ow..." She picked up the troublesome screw and twisted it back into place, cursing quietly to herself.<br/> <br/>That task complete, she clambered down from the hull of the machine, landing neatly on her feet. She wandered around, putting on the convincing act of looking busy, and listened. She filtered out what was unimportant, and recorded the rest in her mind.<br/> <br/>Eventually, the time for a shift change came, and Cooper was free to go home. She put away her tools, as they actually belonged to the factory, and headed out. The first thing she did was write down everything she heard. Then, she went to find Monica, who would let the rebel leader know that she was ready to report.</span>