[February 112th. GPY 3. Moirai Island, Ourania. 0923. U.A.T]

[Merit: 4,242]

After a more than a week of being pampered and babied by his mother, Jordan found himself veritably irritable and more than ready to end his mini-vacation once and for all.

Jordan loved his parents, and they in turn loved each of their children. That was undeniable. But ever since he could remember, the near-forceful affection they almost constantly displayed to them had been more than Jordan could handle. Growing up, he'd been able to find some solace within the expansive walls of New Bran. A solace that only grew with the passing months and growth of the Clan as his father's attention had been spread thin.

Their mother however, only ever cared to have six children; only ever wanted to have three living in her house. As a result, the entirety of that affection had been turned towards Jordan's sisters. But only until such a time that he or his two brothers fell within the sphere of her private empire.

At which time, that love and affection would be amplified by the longings of the heart, by the joy of seeing one of her children once again, and directed towards them with the same ravenous intensity that a starving, feral beast would give to a heaping pile of meat.

As the days turned into a week, directing his annoyances away from his kind mother became more and more of an exhausting chore. And more so, to hide the hasty excitement that rose in tune with his mothers growing boredom.

It was at their fifth or sixth brunch in a row; Jordan lost count, when she finally asked when Jordan was leaving in an off-handed manner. Trying not to grin in maddened excitement was a task harder than slaying Law, Jordan was sure.

Jordan's mind almost strained as he wiped all traces of emotion; of excitement; of warmth, from his face. "Today." He sternly replied.

"Make sure you take your sisters with you. And be safe." She dismissively replied before taking a few sips from her mimosa and peering over the terraces to gaze upon her island.

Jordan stayed silent and tried not to stare at his mother and his thought in awe about her status and accomplishments. Not only was this her island. The habitat was too. As was the moon in orbited, Ananke. And everything orbiting it. She was carefree, yet humble. Kind, but not naive. A stark difference from the thousands of rulers with names in the history books.

"Was it life extension, or space travel, that gave humbled humanity?" Jordan wondered aloud.

"You've seen the recordings, Jordy." Jemenna sighed. "What else is there to say."

"You saw the recordings first. You had access to the technology first. You and the other founders, at least a half-hour before anyone else in the system. What was your impression?"

She took a long, deep sigh before responding. "It was like time stood still. I just… floated there. Staring at a being that seemed just as alien as he did human. Or, both God and the Devil, if looked at in another light. A being smarter than all of us combined. One with enough power to play chess with his entire species." She paused for a long moment to stare at a distant point in space before rubbing her own arm and shaking her head. "I don't know what to tell you, Jordy. The Starfarer changed everything for humanity on two separate accounts. Then disappeared from the system."

Jordan tried to appear as if he were absorbing the information as he fell silent. Though, in the back of his mind he knew he wasn't even fooling himself. Everything that she'd said was common knowledge. The same thoughts, feelings and facts that everyone who'd been born after was shown as a part of their history lessons.

"That's all I can say." Jemenna chuckled, giving Jordan a reassuring look. "If you want to know more, ask Amory, Revilla or Solis when your rank is high enough. They're one of the few who were old and lucky enough to meet him in person."

"And what are they like?" Jordan asked after finishing off his own drink.

Causing his mother to humorously snort to herself. "You'll have to find out for yourself."

"Anyway." She continued with a soft slap to the table a moment later to push herself to her feet. "Travel safe, Son. And please, tell me about Vil's new bride after you meet her." She giggled to herself before commenting under her breath. "Never in all my lifetimes, would I have thought he'd be fond of royalty."

After dismissing himself from their meal, Jordan took the elevator the main floor of his mothers estate and took his time walking to their housing so that he could arrange their transport.

With his residency in the Ganglands having already been confirmed, his food and clothes, motorcycle and other gear that'd been sent before their arrival sat lying in wait for them to move in. Reducing the already minuscule price to a negligible fraction of a point.

Entering their accommodations, Jordan saw his friends and his sisters sitting on opposing sides of each other, idly chatting. Causing both a smile to creep in the corners of his lips and causing suspicions in his mind.

"You all seem to be getting along." Jordan snorted before typing out a text to send his friends.

[Or, are you just kissing ass 'cause you like your suits?]

Jordan ignored the ensuing scowls, glares and laughs as he found a seat between the two parties. "We're leaving in a few hours." He unceremoniously announced.

"A few hours, as in…?" Valerie squinted as she stuck out her neck and held up her palm inquisitively.

"11:30," Jordan said. "You three will undock after falling into Europa's sphere of influence to go to New Bran while we continue to the Ganglands."

"So be it." Valerie slapped her metal hands against her thighs before standing for the door. Leaving subtle winces of pain trailing after her on her way out. Followed closely by her sisters throwing waves and goodbyes behind them.

"I don't know why you're so mean to each other." Zoltan chuckled to himself a few seconds after the door closed. "You're cool. And they're nice."

"Do you have siblings?" Jordan asked.

Zoltan shook his head. "No."

"Well." Jordan shrugged. "You wouldn't understand."

"It's a show of love." Gelos stated. "It's like… I can talk shit about you, but no one else can."

"Exactly."

"Exactly." Zoltan spat towards Jordan. "Then why didn't you say that?"

"Jordan." Tobias butted in, clearly disinterested with the banter as usual. "Since you're the native, have you decided where we're gonna live?"

"Well." Jordan sat back in his seat with a sigh. "Across all levels, the Ganglands are filled with models of mostly old European cities, as well as more modern ones. With evergreen forests stretching between them. Lakes and rivers are found in the Mid-Worlds, seas and oceans on the inner surface. Ideally." He sagged his head to the side as the thought. "The best place would be not too close, and not too far from a major city. Preferably with a nice buffer between any gang's territories or suburbs. Especially my family's." He muttered to himself. "Once that's done, we confirm our lots with a construction company, send them our blueprints and wait for our houses to be built."

"Territories?" Zoltan asked with raised brows.

"You realize you can look it up, right?" Jordan sighed.

"It's better hearing it from a native, right?" Tobias sadistically grinned. "Tell us about your culture. And these gangs."

"Well." Jordan sighed, rolling his eyes. "I guess I'll start with the fact that Campaign Law is a bit relaxed in the Ganglands. Almost to the point where anything is allowed- raids, shootouts, street brawls. Whatever. So long as severe property damage is avoided, my dad doesn't care. Even then, gangs usually take care of their own territory, so." Jordan chuckled, shaking his head. "Within their territories, a gang's word is law. Three Jovian years of that and relaxed laws turned the entire habitat into a… rough crowd. People are wary and gangsters hold grudges. They conduct raids and home invasions in broad daylight, around civilians. Compared to New Bran, the difference is like heaven and hell." He chuckled to himself again. "But, I think that's about to change."

"The domes." Tobias commented to himself.

"Yeah." Jordan nodded.

"And the gangs?" Gelos excitedly asked.

"In all there are hundreds." Jordan shrugged. "However many there are, they all fall under the umbrella of just twelve organizations. Thirteen, including the Clan. As far as the least dangerous ones, there's La Volpe, The Nomads and The Monks. They all have open territories, and are only hostile to others when provoked. Though, they mostly keep to themselves. La Volpe is a community of sex workers, for sex workers. They look after their own, that's all there is to say. Nomads live in their cars and trucks; sometimes their ships too. They keep to themselves and smuggle things between the planets when asked. And then, The Monks. They were founded by a banished Shaolin Monk who left Earth to move to the Powers during the first migration. Again, they keep to themselves. But they take part in fights or brawls and hold tournaments throughout the hab."

"Okay." Tobias nodded.

"Slightly less dangerous, is the Sky Riders" Jordan continued. "A group of Venusians who also migrated here at the turn of the century. They also keep to themselves, mostly. In their cities, high in the support spires of the hab. Every once and while, they conduct planned raids on their enemies. But they mainly deal with cyberwarfare. The Black Flags and the Merfolk occupy the rivers, lakes and shallow oceans of the Ganglands. The former lives on ships or floating homes, and operate much like the pirates of Earth do. The-"

"The Merfolk?" Gelos burst out with incredulous laughter.

"Are a cult of zealots who believe they'll some day colonize the subsurface oceans of Europa and Ganymede." Jordan continued, as if uninterrupted.

"So much so that they augmented their bodies and modified their genes to live in and near the water. They mostly raid ships and extort people who're sailing the waters for safe passage."

"Okay." Tobias nodded. "That's six. Continue."

Eager to pass the conversation off to another, Jordan looked to Gelos with a wide grin. "I'm sure our favorite Martian would love to tell you about the Europa branches of The Mariners, The Martian Mob and Blue Dawn." Jordan laughed.

"Jeez." Gelos shook his head, chuckling nervously. "Well. The Mariners are the most docile, by far. They're all about cars and speed." He shrugged. "Street meets, races, chop shops. That sort of thing." He chuckled again, rubbing his head. "Now, Blue Dawn. Is Mars' best version of the Yakuza. They're criminals." He nodded. "But they have a code; and take care of their own, and honor is everything. But the Mob." Gelos all but shuddered. "They have no limits. No lines they wouldn't cross. They're terrorists."

"And the same could be said for Green Street." Jordan added with the point of a finger. "They; like the Monks and one other gang, came from Earth, and were founded by people older even than my father. The founders of Green Street specifically, were from across North America. Where gangs had run rampant across the lands for centuries, long before earthlings started leaving the planet and long before the singularity. Once the borders were opened, they moved here en masse. Eager to do out in the open, what they once had to hide from the light of the law."

"Damn." Zoltan chuckled despairingly to himself.

"Yeah." Jordan sighed. Besides the Clan, there are two other gangs standing above them all. The first, the Rioters, we don't have to worry about. Their Chief is a long-time friend of my dad. The other, is a gang that also came from Earth. Gelos mentioned that Blue Dawn is the Martian version of the Yakuza. Well, Akai Ten is the official, Jovian branch of the Yakuza. And the second-most dangerous gang in the Sphere of Europa."

In an effort to allow them a few moments to digest the information, Jordan moved over to the dining area to order a Charcuterie board for them to snack on while they passed the time. Much to Jordan's delight, almost no further questions arose from the others. Instead, they made small talk and watched their own shows while they snacked and passed the hours by until the inevitable knock came to their door.

Before anyone could even enter, Jordan rose from his squat near the door and triggered the door to open. Causing Vivian to take a step back in surprise and make way for the others quickly filing out of the room before hurrying back to the front of the crowd to lead the way to a large canoe docked at the private canal.

"Oh." Jemenna perked up as they climbed aboard. "Are you going?" She asked, turning to Jordan.

"Uh. Going where, Ma'am?" Zoltan asked before Jordan could reply.

"To the wedding!" She scoffed, leaning a degree closer to Jordan. "You didn't tell them?"

"My dad is returning from Saturnia. He's getting married." Jordan shrugged meekly to his friends.

"To who?" Tobias asked with sudden interest.

"To the daughter of a princess!" Vanessa dreamily replied. "I wouldn't miss a royal wedding for the life of me."

"Which means." Jemenna essentially growled to Jordan. "You need to be nice to your siblings.

'Tch.' Jordan sucked his teeth. 'They're the ones who need to be nice to me."