Rising Tide: Board Meeting at CMS

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Rising Tide: Board Meeting at CMS
Date of Cutscene: 10 February 2018
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Shadow
Tinyplot: Rising Tide

The mood in the boardroom of Cranston Multinational Shipping can best be described as a "controlled panic" -- and the control is audibly slipping as the volume of the arguing increases. With communications down or unreliable, regular shipping is about to grind to a halt... And when it does, people cities around the country or even around the world are going to wake up to find out that the nearest grocery has less than two day's worth of produce remaining, with no more coming in; someone will be the first to decide to stock up before the food runs out, everyone else will follow suit, and the riots will start -- and once they start, they might not end.

They all know it, but none of them wants to be the first to say it -- and nobody wants anyone /else/ to be the first to say it either.

"Enough." Natasha's voice isn't even all that loud, but there's a timbre underneath that cuts straight through the din like a crack of thunder, not so much drawing attention as brutally seizing it as the heiress and CEO of the Cranston fortune surveys her domain.

"Circumstances are dire. There is no denying that. But this company has operated under wartime conditions before - not once, but twice. We will do so again. Our world is facing a crisis. It has faced them before and overcome them, and it will do so again. Whatever measures we need to take, we'll take."

She looks at one of the board members. "Mister Bradley. My great-grandfather, rest his soul, never threw away something just because he had no immediate use for it. Sub-basement two still contains several telegraph transmitters. I want them refurbished and wired up to the radio tower by this afternoon. Have our communications division brush up on Morse Code, and reestablish communications with our freighters. It'll be slower, but at least it will be accurate. Gordon," she continues, addressing another. "On my authority, you'll ground our air fleet for the time being. Most airports' ATC will be too affected for safe landings. We'll have to eat the cost; so be it. Derek -- inform our in-house IT staff that they have carte blanche; whatever scorched earth policies they think they need to get our internal systems clear, they're authorized to take. Disconnect everything from the outside, up to and including personal smartphones."

She takes a breath, then continues. "I want someone to run to the nearest electronics store and get as many amateur radio units as they can carry. Use them to communicate with the truck drivers. Mark my words, gentlemen: We are the beating heart that carries lifegiving blood throughout civilization. We *will* continue to do so. This cowardly attack by the so-called 'Rising Tide' will be defeated. In the mean time, it's up to us to ensure that civilization will still be here when it is. Am I understood?"

She looks around the room, feeling the atmosphere change, despair and panic settling into grim determination. One by one, the members of the board nod. Natasha smiles. "Very well. Dismissed."

As the board members file out, Natasha turns to her secretary. "Jesse, get me a meeting with Josh Handel from the Teamsters' Union. Tell him I have an offer he'll want to hear out."