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Mutants & Masterminds: StarGate Freedom - Prologue: Bethany, Narinder and Christian


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Off the East Coast of the US, 20:15 GMT

She'd fallen asleep in the large leather chair; she hadn't slept much the day before and she knew the switch in hours between London and home were going to play hell with her anyways. So about halfway across the Atlantic she'd finally surrendered her worry and fear and confused heartache to the blissful, dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted. Narindar, well trained in the care and feeding of the wealthy, had collected her drink and half-eaten lunch, stowed her tray, and procured a pillow and blanket from one of the flight attendants.

Bethany was startled awake by an abrupt change in the plane's direction. The sharp bank to the left and then a decline in altitude was followed by the blinking on of the seat-belt sign and a beep alerting the passengers that someone would be speaking soon.

"Good evening, this is your captain speaking. We are being rerouted from Dulles National Airport to the Baltimore-Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport. Our touch-down time is still being calculated; I will update you as soon as I hear. In the meantime, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. I would like to request that all passengers and the flight attendants return to their seats. Thank you."

Bethany finally woke up enough to understand what was being said about halfway through the captain's speach. Other first-class passengers were already grumbling or complaining; she took stock of the lack of refreshments and the pillow and blanket and smiled at Narindar in thanks. Her stomach rumbled.

"Hey, got any peanuts left? And what was all that about being rerouted? I only caught part of it."

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"I am sorry, my dear, but they switched everything over to those terrible little dry pretzels, to save money I think. I do not bother with them, but we shall get something when we land as we wait for the transfer. It sounds as if we are being rerouted to Thurgood Marshall."

He pulled out a package of gum and held it out to her to hold her over, and then caught the attention of one of the flight attendants with a charming smile.

"I hope I am not bothering you, Miss.. I was only wondering the cause for the delay, if you don't mind?"

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The attendant was rattled. Her face was too pale as she attempted a smile. "I don't know," she said, lying so badly a child could have spotted the fib. "Just remain calm and stay in your seats, please. I'm sure we'll be safely on the ground soon." She continued to give him that same brittle smile as they leveled out and she turned to attend to another passenger.

Bethany sighed and peered out the window, noting that the lights of D.C. seemed bright tonight. She was jarred out of her contemplation as something golden in color shot past the airplane. It was going the same direction, but moved so much faster than their jet that it was gone before she could see it. Bethany was sure she had imagined it, but the passenger behind her said, "Holy shit! I think we just got buzzed by a UFO!" He said it loudly enough that most of the people in their section caught it.

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Bethany glanced quickly around the cabin, hoping that their flight attendants could be more reassuring to the other passengers than they had been to Narindar. She kept her cool dispite the odd vision and the other passenger's outburst, quietly slipping her BlackBerry out of her purse. It beeped an eerily cheery tune as it powered up, given the tension on the plane, and she attempted to connect to internet to pull up any news reports about DC or falling shuttle debris or....somthing. Anything.

Her hands were barely shaking but other than that, the Senator's wife appeared cool, collected, and focused on her connnection to the world outside the plane.

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Next to her Narinder was doing much the same, having slipped his left hand into his suit jacket and slipped out an almost identical device. Deft fingers flipped lightly across the touch screen, and he searched through the internet pages as well for information on the situation. With his right, he reached over and took Bethany's trembling hand, covering it with his reassuringly.

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Calm in the airplane only lasted another few moments. Red lightening arced over the horizon, above the plane. Worried voices rose as the passengers questioned what that was and where it was coming from. Ignoring them, Narinder and Bethany were able to pull up some news sites, most of which weren't reporting anything. Then it all went crazy - CNN was reporting a flying pyramid over the Rockies, and there was a world-wide broadcast in multiple languages at once from a being claiming to be the god Ra. Fox was reporting that the Earth was being attacked, and BBC said that the House of Commons was under fire. Right as Bethany clicked on a CNN link that proclaimed that the President was calling for patience and calm, her connection died.

Bethany looked out her window, just in time to see a small rose of fire flare in the night sky. She stared, wondering what that was, though she suspected it was a satellite being shot down. It would explain why everyone's cell phones were rapidly becoming paperweights.

Narinder caught a report from the Times of India stating that the reporters were seeing the army fire on the aggressors, to no avail. Their weapons didn't seem to have much effect on the 'animal-men'. When he tried to navigate to another page, his connection failed.

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Narindar could feel the strain of Bethany manitaining her cool exterior through the grip she had on his hand. For several moments she tried to convince herself it was some War of the Worlds-esque hoax, but the flaring lights outside and the sporadic, unedited news flashes before the outage was too much for the analytic side of her brain.

She took a deep breath and then took stock of the panic emerging on the plane. The flight attendents were pretty much useless for keeping things calm at this point; they were too rattled themselves. While most of the passengers probably didn't have the expensive equipment that she and Narindar did, only one other person having seen those news reports and blabbing would have the entire plane rioting, especially with the light show going on outside. She wanted to break down herself, she wanted to think about her husband and her daughter (and someone else already supposed to be out of mind), but more than that she wanted to make to the ground alive.

So she saved the pages that were cached in the BlackBerry and slipped it into a pocket of her skirt. She stood and slid past Narindar, quietly and serenly making her way to the cockpit door and the belted-in flight attendents. She picked the one that looked the most calm and said in a low but urgent tone, "I need to speak with Captain. My name is Bethany DeCoursey, my husband is Senator DeCoursey of California, and I have information that needs to be passed along to the Captain regarding our landing."

She tried to put the authority and influence of her husband, and her own skills of persuasion, behind the order; however, she herself could hear the strain and tremor of her fear in her voice.

,,
Click to reveal.. (Bluff Roll)
1d20=2

2 + 5 Bluff = 7

Owie....at least it isn't a botch. smile

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Narinder slipped his own Blackberry into his pocket, and seeing the direction Bethany was headed in, he very calmly stood up and stepped behind her, trying to lend his mute support. He saw the hesitation on the flight attendant's face, and placed a hand gently on Bethany's shoulder. Were the situation less urgent, she might have been offended at the implication that she couldn't handle the scared-looking stewardess herself, but at the moment it was hard not to just be relieved at the support of one of her best friends, especially one with a fair amount of political clout and a calmer demeanor than she was managing at the moment.

"My friend is quite right, Miss. My name is Narinder Kapoor, I am a Diplomat on the staff of the United States Ambassador to India. If the Captain doesn't know the extend of what is going on, he must be told immediately. Does he have any information about what is going on? If not, we must speak with him."

Click to reveal..
Rolling for Diplomacy: 1d20 → [16] + 17 = 33, http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2294762/

The woman nodded faintly, her voice a hushed whisper as she responded to the two very official people standing in front of her.

"Yes.. yes, they said that D.C. is under attack, and we can't land there."

"And does your Captain know the source of the attacks?"

She shook her head then, looking a little startled at the implication that they did. Narinder nodded again, more firmly than before, and motioned to the cabin door.

"Then please, my dear, we need to speak to your Captain, it is most urgent."

With that, she nodded, looking alternately relieved and - if possible - more scared than before. She pulled the curtain shut so that no one else on the plane could see that the two passengers were being granted access to the cockpit, and then opened the door, motioning them in.

"Captain, these two people are with the government, they say they know more about the attacks."

The fact that Bethany wasn't technically with the government so much as she was involved with people who were with the government seemed to have escaped the young woman's mind at the moment - "Senator's wife" and "more information" was all she'd needed to hear.

(Edited to correct Diplomacy modified)

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The pilot and the co-pilot were peas in a pod, dark haired and eyed, with medium builds. The co-pilot let them in before shuffling back to his seat and murmuring how to lock the door, though it was terribly cramped with the four of them in there once the door was shut – and locked. The two exchanged glances, then the pilot cleared his throat and said, “Thank you for coming to share information, but I have to confess, air traffic control said we were dealing with a… superior force? The implication was… mindblowing.”

“We didn’t think that telling the steward crew the full details would help,” the co-pilot added, looking just as unnerved as the stewardess had.

“The tower suggested that we were being invaded… by aliens,” the pilot supplied, looking a little sheepish to even say the world. “And there was a weird radio signal, but we didn’t even hear all of it. Do you know what’s going on, miss? Sir?”

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"I am certain that your air traffic control was quite busy. From what I was able to retrieve before our Internet connections failed, it would appear that is probably a correct assessment. However, it is not limited to the Washington area, they seem to be striking on a global scale. At least in India, and I would assume - Bethany.. England?"

The Senator's wife nodded at him, and Narinder nodded in reply, glancing back at the pilot and the co-pilot.

"It would seem safe to assume that they will be doing their best to eliminate any air traffic whatsoever. An airport.. it may not be the wisest choice, gentlemen - Baltimore especially, it is located quite close to Washington, as well as being a major city. If this is a full-scale invasion, it may be that they won't be settling on just capital cities - they may be aiming for any highly populated areas. Perhaps there is a more rural alternative? That is of course your decision, you are the trained pilots and you know the risks better than I. However, satellite communication seems to be down, and we are most likely on our own now.. one way or another."

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Bethany nodded at Narindar's assessment, her eyes just as troubled as the pilots'. "Who ever this is, their attack seems to be completely ariel. Even if none of the other passengers were able to get to the internet before it..." she swallowed hard, but pressed on, "before it went down, there's enough to see outside the windows to cause a panic. I think that will only get worse the closer we get to D.C. or Boston."

She glanced out of the cockpit windows, "We need to get this plane on the ground as quickly as possible and we need to keep the rest of the passengers and crew calm. We've enough danger outside, we don't want to be tearing apart at the seams from the inside." Her eyes fell back on the captain, "Do you still have contact with Air Traffic Control? Or are we essentially flying blind at this point?"

She was still frightened, but some of her reserve was starting to fall back into place. There were frightened people here, American citizens and above all other human beings, that needed guidance and support. For now that was enough for her to shove her own insecurities and fears aside.

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"The problem is that you can't just put these things down anywhere!" the pilot said, close to actually snapping verbally and clearly on edge. "You need a runway that is long enough for us to reduce speed, and tough enough to bear our weight. You only find those at the big airports."

"And if we don't have enough runway, we crash," the co-pilot added. "Worse, we are somewhat blind - the towers are scrabbling to deal with all of this and if we alter course, we could hit someone."

"I know what you're feeling," the pilot added, then paused. His hands drifted to his headset; he had pulled one off his ear so he could talk to them, but now he resettled them over his ears, listening. The co-pilot did the same.

After a moment, the pilot said, "Baltimore is on fire; it sounds like the tarmac is burning. They're trying to get planes in, but I think you folks are right. Joe, what's nearby?"

The co-pilot grabbed for some maps and flipped through them. "Lee Airport, Londontowne, we'll be there in three minutes."

"You two, go buckle in," the pilot said firmly, flipping off the autopilot and taking the wheel. "We're about to make an emergency landing. If you believe in God, start praying."

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Bethany nodded and unlocked the door; she headed back to their seats, keeping as neutral an expression as she could. Mostly she knew at this point she was just in shock. Baltimore was on fire? She belted herself in without really seeing the straps or the worried looks from the flight attendants. The she took a deep breath, avoided looking outside, pulled out a her St. Nicholas pendant and clasped in her hands and bowed her head to pray.

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As he followed behind Bethany, Narinder stopped only briefly to catch the hand of a young woman who was struggling with her seatbelt. He leaned over her and murmured quietly, until she sat back in her seat, still looking grim but no longer struggling at her harness.

Then he sat down next to Bethany, strapped himself in, and very quietly, hopefully without anyone noticing, slipped a bracelet of prayer beads off of his wrist from beneath the suit jacket. Quietly, he began to count them off, his eyes closing in silent meditation and prayer as the plane began it's unplanned decent.

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"May I have your attention?" the stewardess said over the intercom. "We are going to make an emergency landing due to issues in Baltimore." As a babble of confused voices rose, the woman had to nearly shout to say, "Everyone, please! Lean forward and put your arms around your legs. Keep your head tucked down. We are on approach to land now."

Around them, passengers assumed the position. Narinder and Bethany leaned closer together, taking comfort in not dying alone. Their silent prayers rose as the plane fell.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bethany opened her eyes slowly, sore already. She could smell smoke, and the moans of the damaged plane, which tilted sharply to their side of the plane. Narinder was half-slumped on top of her, unconscious still. Groaning, Bethany muttered, "Nari? Nari, please wake up."

She thought that she might be truly alone, but then her companion stirred and groaned. "We made it," he said, but he could smell the smoke, too. Luggage and debris was piled on top of him. They both had fuzzy memories of the whump of the wheels touching down, the attempt to slow down - which had ended with a sudden, disastrous crash. She checked her watch; they had only been out for a few minutes.

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With a low groan of pain, Narinder shifted, and began to slowly push the debris and luggage off of himself. After recovering his wits enough to think properly, he glanced down at Bethany with concern written across his face. He looked as if he might have hit his forehead against the frame of the seat in front of them, because he had a small trickle of blood running down over his forehead and down his temple, but other than that he seemed alright.

"Bethany, are you alright? Here, let me.."

He fumbled for a moment, and managed to unfasten his seatbelt without stumbling too much. He braced himself carefully and helped Bethany to her feet as well, before turning and taking stock of the rest of the plane and it's passengers. She could see him process the smell of smoke and the list of the plane, and then he moved towards the front of the plane, where the stewardesses were strapped in. He investigated each of them, trying to determine if they were alright and to help them get free of their restraints so that they could help the rest of the passengers. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught Bethany's attention.

"Bethany, dear, see if you can open the door so we can help get these people out of here."

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She nodded and moved towards the door, her head still fuzzy and her balance a little off. The sounds were starting to make sense again: the creaking of ripped metal in and out of the plane, the pop and fthh of a fire somewhere close, and the moans of the other people sharing her fear and pain.

It seemed to take forever to get the handle to turn; it did so only under a screaching protest and even then the door refused to swing open. Eventually Bethany was forced to kick the door open. She didn't feel too bad, there was a man in coach doing the same thing with the emergency exit and he was cussing at the hinged sheet of metal.

The outside air slammed into her with the smell of burt rubber, burning grass and shrubs, and scorched cinderblocks. For a moment what she saw didn't make sense: there was tile instead of concrete beneath her, along with a scattered ruin of electronics, candy, and plastic bags. Only when she glanced up at the far wall and saw the blue and white paint with the Wal-Mart decal that she understood.

She nearly broke out into hysterical laughter, but Narindar called for help again in getting the passengers and crew up and off the plane without a stampede. She took a deep breath, pretended that she was calm, and ducked back inside the plane. At least with the angle that they were at she didn't have to try to figure out the emergency slide packed into the bottom of the door.

She gave Naridar a worried frown and asked as quietly as possible, "Have you checked on the pilots?"

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Narinder shook his head slightly, and finished helping one of the frightened passengers with a stuck seat belt. He had freed the rest of the flight attendants first, so the ones who weren't injured could try and help manage the rest of the passengers - after all, it's what they were trained for. They had started to mill about, with the exception of one that Narinder guided towards Bethany who appeared to not have gotten her harness on in time and seemed more confused and disoriented than most of them.

"Get her outside and stay with her, I think she hit her head pretty badly. I'll check on the pilots."

He motioned Bethany off the plane, and headed towards the pilot's cabin. After jiggling the stuck door for a bit, he finally gave up and braced himself, following in Bethany's footsteps and giving the door a swift kick to break it open.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Narinder's kick was exemplary, but he nearly broke his foot as he learned that those doors were heavily reinforced. Limping a little, he found a sturdy length of metal, which he used like a crow bar. After nearly throwing out his back in the effort, he managed to get the door opened.

Narinder wished he hadn't done so when he saw the fate of the pilots. They had been in the cockpit, which had taken the brunt of the impact with the side of the Wal-Mart. Their bodies were broken and mangled, smashed between metal and cinder blocks.

Shaken, he turned and began to assist the others off the plane.

Bethany found herself with the unwelcome task of calming the near-hysterical passengers when all she wanted to do was have a breakdown of her own. But that was not who she was, or who she would be. Instead, she calmed them as best she could, all the while looking nervously to the sky for signs of more of those golden fighters.

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Bethany mostly staved off her own panic attack by focusing on others that couldn't do that themselves. She made her way through the people, organizing those that were up and walking to take care of those that weren't. For the men that were functional, there was the duty of carrying away the obviously dead. She'd directed them to the household linens isle, so the bodies could be shrouded and given some measure of respect.

The living were her priority though. She didn't have medical training and was keenly aware of the lack of sirens or really any sort of emergency response. And if the world was being invaded, it wasn't likely to show up. So she talked to everyone that was functional, getting them involved in some task or another and desperately hoping for a doctor or nurse or even a particularly bright Girl Scout somewhere in the mix that could help those that could be helped and let her know who was going to die. No one should die alone.

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Narinder finished helping people out of the plane, all the while murmuring quietly to them as they spoke. A couple of the stewardesses and one or two of the passengers he helped not only off the plane, but to a couple of the more injured passengers. Finally, he made his way to Bethany, still nursing a faint limp.

"They are all off now, except for the pilots. They.. did not survive the impact. There was a nurse, she is tending to the injured, as is a young woman who serves as a lifeguard in the summers. They are doing what they can. We should.. try to get medical assistance, perhaps, but I am unsure how."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Christian is being ported over from his thread...

"Hey, someone's coming!" a kid shouted, drawing attention to an approaching sports car. It was red, and the watching people could see a dark-haired occupant.

"Is it someone good?" someone asked, worry and fear making their words awkward. "I mean, a good guy?"

"Well, it's not an alien," someone else said.

"How do you know?" another man said, hysteria in his voice. "They could look like anything!"

"Then you could be one," the first man replied to him, anger and fear making his voice harsh.

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"Gentlemen!" Bethany's voice cut above the din of the injured and dying, her usual reserve too strained by the absurdity of what was happening to her already tumultuous world. "Let's not start making up our enemies, okay? We've enough to deal with right here."

She leaned into Nari for a moment, fighting back her own fatigue and hysteria; settled, she took a step away from him. "Nari, why don't you go find out who it is? Maybe someone saw us coming down and sent what they could." Left unsaid was the myriad of other likely possibilities, from looters and opportunists to those just as lost and afraid as them.

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Narinder nodded, giving her a friendly squeeze of reassurance before she pulled away. He drew in a deep breath, and stepped forward towards the red convertible as it pulled towards the group.

The man was quite the sight - the suit he wore looked as if it had once been immaculately pressed and cared for, and as Christian looked past the rips and smoke streaks he could tell that the fabric was of excellent material. Narinder's curly hair was mussed, but his bearing was protective towards the people behind them, even as he walked with a slight limp.

"Greetings.. my name is Narinder, Narinder Kapoor. And you, sir..?"

His formality was a habit, and he sounded mostly just exhausted and a little pained.

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The young man that hopped out of the red Mustang was tall and slender, bordering on skinny, and dressed in a dark grey tailor-made casual suit, the red silk shirt open at the collar. He looked up and around with the casual wariness of a cat, scanning the skyline, before lowering his gaze to regard Narinder. A thin, graceful finger hooked a stylish pair of shades off his face and the youth smiled with easy friendliness.

"C.H Blues. Call me C.H." he told the older man, taking in the sight of the wounded. "I've got some medical supplies in the car. Struck me as I saw you guys from up there that you could use them more than me." He paused for a moment, deliberating how much he should get involved, then shrugged mentally.

"You'll need to get these people out of sight. Those flying assholes are a little kill-crazy and like to strafe." he told Narinder with clinical casualness. "Staying here and waiting for the cavalry isn't a good plan. The cavalry's not likely to be coming."

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Bethany came trotting up behind Narindar, having heard the voice of their newcomer and suspecting she knew who it was. She smiled wide as she drew close.

"Christian!" She caught the last of his words and nodded, "Would you mind helping us? There are many wounded; it would help a lot. Have you had any word about what's going on since the web went down? We were still in the air then."

She was happy to see an unexpected familiar face (though of course other circumstances would have been preferred). She remembered Christian as a young, unassuming, and brilliant musician that Daniel had had flown out for their 10th anniversary celebration. She'd liked him and made a game of evening trying to pair him up with some of the younger up-and-coming women of California; he'd left with a companion, but was gone again by the end of week. For now, she was just glad that he seemed unhurt and focused.

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Narinder nodded to Bethany, a touch of relief crossing his features at his friend's recognition of the stranger.

"I am hopeful that he has much to tell us, Bethany - but perhaps we shall take his advice first, yes? Let us get these people to somewhere more discreet, if Mr. Blues believes we are in danger. We cannot save anyone if we are killed in the process."

With that, he moved back towards the injured and uninjured passengers, and started politely but firmly instructing everyone to travel towards a nearby building, something unobtrusive and out of the way. Then he moved over to the badly injured, and studied them quietly, trying to think of a way to transport them along with the others. Finally, he pushed his way into the ruins of the Wal-Mart, in search of something that could be used as a stretcher, hoping against hope that he could salvage something without getting himself killed.

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They had crashed into the Walmart that was the cornerstone of this shopping complex, once. Now, there was mostly closed buildings and this abandoned Walmart. A shop that was once called 'The Wok n Roll' now served as a place for the wounded to lie down on tables, and an unnamed nail place had enough room for everyone to gather.

Narinder found little of use in the store, but he was glad to see that there were no further injuries. Carefully climbing back out of the store, he looked around. Aside from Christian, there didn't appear to be much in the way of help.

Then he saw the opposite of that - a streak of gold that burst over the buildings then climbed back into the sky.

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"Mrs DeCoursey?" C.H was a little astonished. He felt like laughing, almost, though it wouldn't have been appropriate. The senator's wife, or something like that. Still hot he thought as he smiled and shook her hand.

"I know about what you know, I guess." He replied to her barrage of questions. "Aliens are invading. Not cool." He slipped into the 'Christian-in-public' persona: a little shy, polite, but nevertheless seeming to be utterly focused on the person he was talking to as Narinder worked on getting people to safety. "I was headed to Baltimore for a little vacation: work's been getting me down a bit. Then all of this starts." he waved a hand at the sky. "It's on the radio: this is all over the world. London, Beijing, Paris. It's like Independance Day without Will Smith. Plus the aliens seem to think they're our gods and masters. And that's about all I know. How about- Down!"

He pressed a hand down on Bethany's shoulder as the alien craft flashed overhead, guiding the woman to crouch next to the car. Dark eyes watched the sleek deadly craft as it banked and turned, then C.H leaned close to Bethany.

"No matter what, stay down and still." he told her intently. "Movement attracts the eye." Then he slowly rose, reaching into the Mustang and feeling for the Stinger one-handed as he watched the sky. He kept his movements graceful and slow, coiled to move fast as he waited for the craft to show signs of returning.

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But the craft didn't return. They were left alone, to plan and to decide what to do. The other passengers were long on panic and suggestions, and short on patience and common sense. It was clear to Christian that Bethany and Narinder were in charge here. The others were too concerned with their own survival to look out for the group at large, or too scared to think beyond a basic fear response.

For the next thirty minutes, the three worked to care for the wounded and try to reach help. Narinder finally found a security guard for the airport, who'd seen the plane's less-than-spectacular landing. That's how they found out that the airport was actually closed, something the pilots hadn't had time to mention before the crash. "Sent nearly everyone home, and told them to stay there," he drawled, shifting his toothpick around his lips as he started at the wreckage of the plane. "Just me and someone in the tower so that if there's an issue, there's someone here. Not that's really doing all that good, right?" He pointed the way to town, and promised to get some help and come back for the wounded.

There was one incident where someone tried to steal Christian's car, but the 'blues musician' caught him at it and sent him packing with a mild threat that nonetheless scared the man witless. They last saw him walking toward town.

Ten minutes after he left, there was a low hum in the sky. Christian scowled and headed for his car, but stopped when she saw the ship that hung over them. It was a massive saucer with a small pyramid on the top. At thirty-five meters, it was an impressive ship by Earth standards, especially when it slowed to a stop and hung motionless in the air. As they watched, it began to set down near the plane.

alkesh.jpg

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Bethany gaped at the monstrous ship when it appeared, but regained her wits as her brain processed what a landing could mean for them. She made her way to where Christian was, gathering up Nari on the way.

"We need to get the walking out of here as quickly and quietly as we can. Nari, gather up the ones mostly likely to help you escape and go. Christian, take the second most able group, I'll take the third." She spun her wedding ring nervously as she spoke and glanced around, already mentally dividing the survivors into groups. Unsaid were all the reasons she only mentioned the walking, her expression conflicted by harsh realities and humanitarian ideals. Behind it all, the hum of the ship droned louder as is made it's descent.

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C.H shook his head, tousled hair flying in the wind kicking up. His pleasant features were almost cold as he looked at Bethany.

"Sorry, ma'am, but the bigger the group, the more chance of being caught. I'm not interested in spending the next twenty years working in an alien sweatshop." He looked around at the survivors, his dark eyes expressionless. "I've done all I'm willing to do for these people. It's up to them now, but I'd advise to split into small groups, twos and threes, and scatter."

He took a step away from her and Nari, his suit jacket open and flapping in the wind as he half-turned back towards Bethany, his movements almost balletic. "You're welcome to both come with me." He jerked a thumb at the Mustang. "There's room for you two. But I'll be leaving regardless, so choose fast."

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Narinder's expression flared briefly with anger and indignation at the man's comment, and his eyes settled on Bethany, words of protest at the order she had assigned them on the tip of his tongue. But Bethany cut him off, her words sharp and abrupt, the tone of her voice the same he had heard her use so often on her husband when the Senator was faced with a hard decision.

"No, Narinder - no arguing. You can't get caught and you know it. Go with him.. you'll be safer together than with a group, just like he said. I'll do what I can."

She could see the effect the words had on the handsome politician, his conflict was written on his face. He glanced at Christian with mild contempt, then turned back to his best friend, his gaze raw with frustration and guilt. He pulled her briefly into a hug, and pressed his lips to the top of her forehead briefly.

"Damn you for being right, Cinnamon. Come with us, they'll probably kill all the others and you know it."

It was unspoken but understood that he knew she would be included in that number if she stayed. It was a selfish request, but he didn't care. Leaving strangers behind to protect the secrets of the countries he served was one thing. Leaving his dearest friend behind was another altogether.

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The hum of the ship was too loud now to risk talking longer, so she just hugged him back quickly and shook her head. "Go." She pushed him towards the car, but once they were moving she turned back to the survivors that were still milling about or staring like sheep.

"Everyone that can, run! Scatter! You'll all be harder to catch if everyone is in different directions. Go!" As they finally started moving, bolting in whatever direction was away from the aliens and the others that might slow them down.

Bethany made her way to stand between the wounded and the enemy, standing proud and unarmed, waiting. She wrapped a hand around her saint's medallion and, like she had in the plane, began to pray.

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Narinder turned towards the car and climbed in quickly, slamming the door behind him as Christian jumped in and turned the key in the ignition. It would have been easier to turn away and not watch, but as they drove off Nari twisted around in his seat and watched her as the car started to pull away from the determined Senator's wife and the wounded refugees scattering in all directions from the alien spaceship.

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Bethany watched her friend and the strange musician drive away. The main road in was cut off by the massive ship and its disgorging soldiers, so Christian zipped between two buildings, and she was alone.

No, not entirely alone: there was the injured, and the few that refused to leave them. A man sat next to his injured son, holding his hand as the boy struggled to not cry. One of the nurses had refused to go because she was still trying to save a man from bleeding to death. Two children huddled next to their unconscious mother, afraid to leave and missed in the bustle of everyone else running. But most were gone.

A tall man of Northern European descent walked toward Bethany, his golden armor flashing in the sun. A black symbol was emblazoned on his armor, as well as tattooed on his forehead. It appeared to be two horns that curled around and pointed at one another.

He spoke to her, and Bethany said, "I don't understand your language."

The man looked irritated. He waved to another soldier, who trotted over to join them. The rest were walking past the three to assess the wounded. As the rest of the squadron bent over the injured, the newcomer said in thickly accented English. "Tell them that they have three minutes to board the Al'kesh. Those who can't walk aboard stay here." The weapon in his hand moved slightly as he shifted his grip on it.

Click to reveal..
The symbol is Cronus' - didn't have time to dig up the image I wanted.

Christian, Narinder - you have your own thread for a while.

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Bethany nodded and moved swiftly amongst the people left at the crash site. She tugged the nurse away from her dying patient and gave her the distraction of looking after the children reluctant to leave their unconscious mother; the father and son made their own way onto the ship after a few quiet words from her. The others that were able moved to the ship with a soul weary tiredness and suspicious looks at their captors.

Once everyone else was on board, Bethany took the little time remaining to try to wake some of the survivors that were alive but unconscious. She grabbed one of the water bottles that had been found in the wreckage earlier and doused the faces of the three women and man that still had heartbeats but hadn't woken up after the crash. Only one of them reacted, the mother of the children coming to with a hacking cough. The gold-encased man barked something at them; Bethany didn't need a translator to know that she was out of time. She slipped an arm around the woman and helped her to her feet, the two of them limping towards the alien ship. The woman nearly balked once she came to enough to see where they were headed. "Your children are in there," was all it took from Bethany to keep her going.

Once inside the woman's children ran to their mother for a bittersweet reunion, and Bethany felt a rising tide of panic and fear for her own daughter. She pushed back the thoughts of her family; there wasn't time and falling apart now was only probably going to get herself killed. She eyed the guards warily and looked for the one that seemed to know English.

"What now?" she asked, her eyes sad but her bearing unbroken and proud.

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"You will wait until we can process you," he said, his words precise and slow. She could tell he was translating the words in his head before he spoke, picking each one with deliberate care.

"What do you mean, processed?" she asked, her voice struggling to remain calm.

"To see what value to have to Lord Cronus or Lord Ra," the man said, his tone indicating that this should be obvious.

"Value?" Bethany pressed, trying to get more information.

He sighed, clearly agitated. "Get in the hold."

She was pushed into the ship with the others, and they were herded into what was a cargo area. There were no bars and the floors were marked and gouged as if items had been dragged over them. And there were already three people huddled in the back, their eyes wide and frightened, one even crying. Her sobs were loud and hysterical; she looked like she was going to pass out at any moment. Worse, it was the kind of fit that irritated captors and spread fear like a disease.

Once inside, the hatch was closed, and the humans were alone again. After a long moment, the floor began to vibrate, just a little. Bethany was very sure that they'd just left the ground.

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Bethany glanced around the hold and walked over the crying woman. She sat down next to her and said solftly, "My name's Bethany. What's yours?"

The woman hiccupped several times before she managed to eke out a, "C-c-candice. Candice Hartman. W-what's going on? What's happening to us?" Her voice rose in pitch and was on the edge of total hysteria.

Bethany put an arm around her and leaned the woman into her, stroking her hair to try and comfort her the way she would her daughter after Ariel had had a nightmare. "I don't know. The soldiers said we're being taken to be 'processed'." She glanced around to see if anyone else had information to offer, but the frightened and confused looks told her that she'd been the best informed of all of them until now. "Deep breaths," she murmured to the woman. Contagious hysteria would probably get them all killed, and for not the worst of their situation was being cooped up. She calmed down, her eyes still wide and frightened but the sobs drying up as she clung to Bethany.

"Does anyone know anything about the invaders?" Bethany asked after about fifteen minutes of uneasy silence. At least talking might help with the boredom, although they'd have to keep it quiet and away from topics that might have people flying back into hysterics. A man across the room that had been staring intently at the walls and occasionally pace answered in a surly tone, "Didn't you hear the broadcast? They think they're gods or something. Or at least their leader does. Says he's Ra and that we've all forgotten our place and stupid shit like that. Fuckin' aliens."

Several of the other prisoners looked at the man in horror, though whether it was from what he said or the fact that he was cussing at the aliens that had them all captive at the moment was hard to tell. Bethany nodded, swallowing her own fear and trying to peice things together. "The guard said we were being taken to see if we'd be useful to either 'Lord Chronos' or 'Lord Ra'. Chronos is-"

"One of the Titans from Greek mythology," the man cut in; Bethany fought down her irritation. Getting snipping with each other certainly wouldn't help keep people calm right now. "The youngest son of Uranos, the sky god, and Gaia, the earth goddess. He overthrew his father, and then his youngest son Zues overthrew him," he went on. "Seems these aliens have a thing for our mythology. Either that, or they really did rule here thousands of years ago, and either way, if the myths are anything to go by, we're screwed."

"That's enough," Bethany cut in herself. "Thank you, that was very helpful; if you think of anything else that might be helpful, please let me know."

Gratefully, no one burst into tears or decided to pick a fight with the surly man over what he'd said, and for the next few hours there was only occasional scraps of conversation in the cargo hold turned prison cell. The group perked up when they felt a change in the flight of the Al'kesh, happy to be able to get out of the hold even if it meant being marched into the unknown. After several minutes on the ground, however, another handful of people were shoved into the hold with them, the doors locked, and they lifted off again.

It went this way for hours on end, sitting, waiting, landing only to pick up more captives and move again. The strain of trying to keep the slowly growing group calm as the day dragged on was taking it's toll on Bethany, but having others to focus on instead of dwelling on her own fears and heartache was keeping her going. The hold was getting crowded, however, and she hoped that they didn't intend to stack them all to the ceiling before taking them to wherever it was they were going to be 'processed'.

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The ship landed and its engine noises died after several hours of flight and landings. Bethany and the others waited, the time dragging on. It seemed to take hours, but by her watch it was only forty minutes. People were starving and Bethany heard complaints about needing to use the bathroom. She was just as hungry, thirsty and uncomfortable, but she didn't complain. What was the point?

The hatch opened suddenly. Bethany had been waiting for this; she scrambled to her feet, blinking against the light pouring into the room. Several of the golden-armored guards were waiting, their eyes hard.

Bethany had never been here before, but she recognized the area; it was distinctive and recognizable.

NORADNorth-Portal.jpg

"Move," the English speaker said, nudging her with that weapon. As Bethany started to walk, she noted the signs of a recent battle - bullet holes, scorch marks and pools of blood. There were other changes; four alien devices had been set up along the walk-way. They looked like futuristic cannons, and Bethany decided to regard them as such until they proved otherwise.

They were walked toward another group of alien warriors, but these were different. They wore ornate helmets that made them look like hawks and jackals. They also had a strong Egyptian motif, giving them a distinct look from the soldiers currently herding them. There was a brief conversation before the soldiers who had captured them turned them over to the new group and left.

These soldiers motioned them to enter Cheyenne Mountain. Nervously, Bethany started to walk. She attempted to talk to the jackal-headed warrior leading them, but earned only a snarl in response.

It was a long walk through the mountain to its buried complex. Most of the people didn't know where they were; she heard whispers about the long "tunnel" before they were brutally silenced with a fist. No one else attempted to talk again, even when they were broken up into groups and put on elevators going deeper into the ground. After the long elevator ride, they were taken by groups of ten to rooms.

"Aray kree!" the jackal hissed at the group. He grabbed Bethany by the arm and snapped, "Kree, bradio." She understood what he wanted when he pulled on her arm and she stumbled after him.

They went down further in to the mountain, Bethany anxiously noting the floors. She knew that there were many levels, more than twenty, and she watched as they sank to the twenty-seventh level. She didn't want to think how far down that was in feet - or miles. Her captor pushed her into a tastefully appointed office, where a man sat behind the desk.

daniel.jpgHe smiled pleasantly as she entered and waved her to a seat. "Good evening," he said, his tone courteous. "I'm Charon, and I'd like to ask you a few questions. Before we start, can I have some food brought to you? Do you need to use the facilties?" That smile didn't waver or change as he said, "Whatever you need to be comfortable for the upcoming... process."

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