If They Stop, the City Dies
The Maintenance Corps are the City’s skeleton.
They maintain power generation, water recycling, waste processing, transit infrastructure, climate control systems, server caverns, and the buried arteries that keep Commonwealth City alive. Most of their work happens out of sight—underground, behind sealed panels, or in restricted corridors most citizens will never enter.
They do not design the City.
They do not govern it.
They keep it from collapsing.
The Corps is officially respected, chronically underfunded, and politically ignored.
Until something breaks.
The Maintenance Corps emerged as a unified labor body after early City planners made a critical mistake: they assumed automated systems would reduce the need for human upkeep.
They were wrong.
Automation increased complexity.
Complexity increased fragility.
Fragility demanded people who understood systems when they failed.
The Corps consolidated fragmented maintenance teams into a citywide body responsible for keeping systems operational regardless of ideology, politics, or public sentiment.
They were given a mandate, not authority.
That distinction defines their frustration.
The Maintenance Corps is a formal civic body with informal power far exceeding its charter.
Sector-based crews (power, water, transit, data, climate)
Rotating emergency response teams
Deep cross-training between specialties
Institutional knowledge passed person-to-person
Documentation exists—but experience matters more.
You fix it first, argue later
Don’t let politics touch the tools
Never fully trust the schematics
If it’s still working, don’t ask why
Maintenance workers are pragmatic, blunt, and deeply aware of how close the City runs to failure at all times.
The Corps almost never uses its leverage.
That’s why it works.
They know:
Which systems have no redundancy
Which backups are theoretical
Which “temporary fixes” are permanent
Which failures would cascade citywide
When the Corps raises concerns, the City listens.
When those concerns are ignored, problems begin appearing “unexpectedly.”
Nothing catastrophic.
Nothing traceable.
Just enough to remind everyone how dependent the City is.
Most citizens don’t think about the Maintenance Corps at all.
Systems work.
Lights turn on.
Transit runs.
When attention does fall on them, it’s usually framed as:
Budget overruns
Slow repairs
“Uncooperative” unions
Safety stoppages during inconvenient times
Among other factions, the perception is clearer:
The Corps knows where every body is buried.
Sometimes literally.
Civic Systems Authority (CSA): Constant tension. CSA designs models; the Corps lives with consequences.
Dockhand Union Collective: Mutual respect. Both understand leverage through necessity.
Patchwork Clinic Network: Quiet reliance. Corps members often receive off-book medical care.
Block Councils: Local cooperation. Repairs happen faster where trust exists.
Null Technicians: Unspoken overlap. Everyone pretends not to notice.
Players encounter the Maintenance Corps when infrastructure becomes narrative.
A system failure no one can explain
A repair crew threatened for refusing unsafe work
Evidence of intentional neglect ordered from above
A maintenance strike looming during crisis
A sealed subsystem that shouldn’t still be running
Players may:
Protect repair crews during emergencies
Investigate sabotage disguised as failure
Negotiate between the Corps and city authorities
Gain access to places no one else can reach
The Corps respects competence, honesty, and people who don’t waste their time.
They despise politicians who’ve never held a tool.
The Maintenance Corps is under increasing strain.
Loyalists believe neutrality keeps the City alive
Radicals argue neutrality enables abuse
Burnouts just want systems stable enough to sleep
Walkouts are rare.
But when they happen, they are terrifyingly effective.
The Maintenance Corps does not seek recognition.
They seek stability.
They understand a truth most factions forget:
The City is not an idea.
It is a machine held together by people who know where it breaks.
Ignore them long enough, and the City will remind everyone why it needs them.
Violently.