Aberrant: Quantum Zero - Quantum Zero

[ProfPotts]

The Stranger:

Ken looked once again at the detailed technical schematics on the laptop computer screen in front of him. He then glanced over at the pile of complex looking components – some shipped in from various manufacturers, others machined by hand – that were, in theory, meant to match-up with the diagram in some way. His gaze slipped between the two – screen & parts, parts & screen. Eventually he shook his head,

“Ah… screw it!”

No matter how much 3D omni-colour graphics were crammed into the schematics, he just couldn’t wrap his head around how the bits were all supposed to fit together. Sure, he was a half-decent mechanic: but that was tuning cars & customising motorcycles - & he hardly got to do that, what with the workload of a Los Angeles homicide detective on his desk… No, there was nothing more to be done: shaking his head, the bamboozled cop cleaned his hands on his (all-important mechanic’s standard-issue) oily rag, reached for his mobile, & hit the speed-dial…

“Hey there, John. No… nothing like that. It’s the ‘car’… Well, that’s kinda’ the point, kid – this ain’t no car you’re building: it’s a frickin’ jet-fighter! I’ve done what I can, but – loath to admit it though I am – I’ve hit a brick wall. You’ll need to come back & point me in the right direction here before this project goes any further. What? The schematics? Yeah… yeah… No, I’m looking at them right now… John – try to understand, kid – we didn’t all get super-brains over night – unlike you, I’m still a mere mortal. Yes, I know you tried to depict it all in ‘layman’s terms’, but I’m not an aeronautical engineer, John – it’s beyond my skills to get this thing finished… Yeah – I’ve seen how busy you are: all over N! with the ‘world’s most beautiful woman’ – I guess it’s tough to be you, huh kid?.. Yes, I know – but still, you’re not telling me that you aren’t having some fun out there on the East coast… Yeah, okay – I’ll shut the place up for now. Later, man.”

Ending the call, Ken once again shook his head. Then, with a sigh, he cleaned the place up a bit, turned out the lights, locked the hanger doors, & drove back towards the city. Maybe if he made good time he could catch the game & he wouldn’t waste all of his precious day off… Novas – he was starting to agree with those who said they lived on another planet…

*****

Elizabeth checked her makeup once again in the bathroom mirror – she guessed that she didn’t look too bad – considering the fact she hadn’t managed to sleep on the flight over – but Fabry was used to Janet-frickin’-Thorne on his arm: how was a girl meant to make a good first impression when that was the act she had to follow? The DeVries rep’ once again cursed the fact that she hadn’t called in a favour from one of the company’s Warp-capable Novas – she was pretty sure that Maelfius owed her something – he could have taken a few minutes out from that FSS assignment to give her a lift to New York. Still, it would have been a waste of good resources – those were the lines the company would have wanted her to think along – it was just a little harder to appreciate when jet-lagged. Of course, the talent never got jet-lagged – or air sick, or had to watch what they ate – or any of those little things that made her life just a little harder to cope with. But Fabry was rich - & an actor to boot – chances are he’d be a great client to snag – able to pay well, & to grant much-needed media exposure to her boys at the same time. Of course, he had been all mysterious on the ‘phone – so there was a chance he was one of those rich kids looking for some kinky thrill with a genuine Nova – but would a guy (allegedly) tuppin’ Thorne really going to be playing away from home? Even if he did turn out to be gay Elizabeth doubted if he could have resisted Ms Thorne’s charms. Hell, she herself was hetero all the way – her recent dreams about Vinnie pretty much confirmed that – but she doubted that she’d be able to resist the charms of the Nova actress if she asked – no man would have been able to…

Not entirely satisfied with the way she looked, Ms Cable hoped it’d be enough to get on the actor’s good side – after all, she was wearing her best ‘Ally McBeal’ outfit. Quickly running her hands down the short, yet business-like, skirt for one last time, she headed out of the ladies, & into the office DeVries: New York had allocated to her. After a few moments of decision-making, she sat at the desk with her back to the impressive view of mid-town Manhattan that was visible outside the room’s large window, arranged a few folders on the desk to appear tidy, yet busy, & gave her long blonde hair one last ‘flip’. Taking a deep breath, she thumbed the intercom’ switch & instructed the secretary to send Mr Fabry in…

Link:

Special Agent Jacobs watched the passing crowds with a slight hint of paranoia that agent training seemed to have instilled in him as he sipped his coffee. He had to admit, it wasn’t too bad – these new ‘Novabux’ coffee places had sprung-up all over the country, seemingly overnight – but despite their clone-like appearances & the bewildering menu of mocha-coca-latté-whatever blends, once you got over to them that you just wanted plain old American coffee – black – it was pretty good stuff. Maybe he’d take some on his next stakeout?.. Andrew (he hated ‘Andy’ – feeling it made him sound like he was ten-years old again) was just starting to wonder about the quality of Novabux donuts when he spotted his kid brother moving through the crowds towards him.

Ian had changed – more than Andrew had realised, it suddenly dawned on him – he looked fitter, healthier, & more… well, more ‘energetic’ he guessed would be the phrase to use… since they’d last met face-to-face. Of course, he blamed himself for that – the murder of that Nova in the botched lab’-heist he was investigating had taken up so much of his time that he’d not been able to meet up with his brother the last time they’d spoken. He’d only realised later that Ian had sounded like he could be in some sort of trouble – but it had been too late, his brother had dropped off the radar – out of the country – by that point. He was pretty sure it had been something to do with that ‘Justice’ girl Ian had been seeing – she raised more than a few ‘flags’ when he’d checked her out at the Bureau – but couldn’t say for certain. In any case, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake this time – this time he’d managed to make time for family…

The Ghost:

“Right this way, Vinnie – we got those custom parts you was after laid out in th’ back…” Joey nodded to the young Gigante as he waved him over.

He’d know the kid since he was born – then again, everyone in the neighbourhood had, really – Don Genovese’s family were what passed for royalty in those parts. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous – lil’ Vin’ had done a lot of growing up in the past few months: Joey didn’t doubt the rumours that the kid had erupted when he saw the way the young man now carried himself with an air of confidence & authority, or when he noted the keen way he seemed to take in all the activity around him as he crossed the busy floor of the garage. He’d seen that sort of look before – in the eyes of some of the kid’s grandfather’s more experienced men – but it usually only developed after many years in the game: that sort of sixth sense, killer instinct – call it what you will – that denoted a man for whom life & death were everyday decisions, rather than abstract philosophies. Now it looked like he was finally going to join the family business – the business that not even those T2M do-gooders could shut down: Joey didn’t hold out much hope for whoever it was that the Don’s grandson was going to make his bones with…

Noticing Vinnie’s glance as he opened the door to the back, Joey looked over,

“Oh yeah – that’s th’ one that was trashed by that Nathanson guy – never seen anything like it, really – sort of ‘crushed’, but no impacts or anything. We took a look, but we’re gonna’ hafta’ junk th’ thing. Th’ nerve o’ th’ guy, huh?”

Moving as gracefully as his beer-bellied bulk would allow, Joey shut the storeroom door behind himself & his esteemed customer, moved over to the shelf of supplies on the rear wall, triggered the hidden catch, & swung open the concealed door to the shop’s other store room. Gesturing for the young Gigante to follow him in he explained,

“Lot’s o’ lead in these ol’ pipes, see – even guys like that injun’ Tomahawk can’t see more’n a jumble – hides the stock pretty well.”

Once the door had swung shut behind Vinnie, Joey pulled the cord that flicked on the fluorescent lighting: as it flickered to life wall-racks loaded with guns of every description emerged from the shadows. The garage-owner - & mob armourer – allowed himself a slight grin when he saw the momentary widening of the Nova’s eyes: it was good to know that, despite it all, the kid was still human. Attempting to impress further, he pulled the metal trunk from under one of the benches in the room & - with some considerable effort – plonked it on the table in the room’s centre. Pausing to wipe the sheen of sweat from his brow, Joey unlocked the case & flipped it open…

… Neatly packed inside the metal trunk was large & unusual gun – along with a length of thickly insulated cable, & a backpack-style box covered in warning signs. The signs were written in Chinese, & Joey quickly confirmed the weapon’s origins,

“Hope this is what you wanted, Vinnie – Red Army issue heavy laser. Can’t say I’ve tested it – the technology’s a bit beyond my expertise in any case, but Chin swears it’s th’ most impressive sniper weapon you’ll have ever seen - & he’s always been good to his word in th’ past. I… uh… I’m not sure testin’ it at th’ range is a good idea – Chin reckons it’ll burn through concrete pretty quickly. Maybe you could head out to your grandfather’s place in th’ woods? That’s pretty quiet – God knows no-one’s ever found any o’ th’ bodies buried out there…”

Glacier:

Alison stared at the streams of data illustrated on the bank of monitors. The bio-readings were particularly worrying: the kid’s system was breaking down the drugs almost quicker than they were having an effect… almost. The dosage was already close to topping out – chances are they wouldn’t be able to keep him controlled that way for much longer. It was a good job she’d been called in.

A spike in alpha-wave activity drew Alison’s eye – but there was no corresponding Nodal activity. Walker was a third instar – considering his age he was ridiculously powerful – even if he hadn’t quite figured that out himself yet. Of course, that power had twisted him into the monster that sat in the cell, but that was hardly an excuse for what he’d done. He was dangerous, in many ways little more than a feral beast. For a moment the thought tripped across her mind that it’d be more humane to just put the kid out of his misery – but then she remembered Ricardo, what this ‘child’ had done to him, & her resolve hardened. No – death was too good for this one. She’d happily have seen him under Toiho’s knife, but with his stamina even that wouldn’t have been the punishment he deserved. Yes – Alison was glad that they’d called her in… she’d make sure that this ‘Glacier’ got what he so richly deserved…

… Standing in front of the cell, Alison quickly checked the minds of the guards – making sure they’d followed the procedure correctly. The last thing she needed was Walker going off on one & taking her head off, or shattering her like poor Ricardo… The thought of her friend & team-mate sent a shiver through her: unconsciously she rubbed her hands over the ornate spiralling blue tattoos that covered her arms. One of the guards was perceptive enough to notice – she noted his name: perception was an excellent trait to have if you happened to work at Bahrain,

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a coat, ma’am?”

His words were well-meaning, even though his eyes, like those of his colleagues, strayed to take in the brief black-leather bodice that was her excuse for a ‘costume’. Inwardly the Chicago heiress smiled – she always told the press that she wore the outfit to show off her tattoos – the ones on her legs matching those on her arms – but in reality she knew full-well the impact the erotic, yet domineering, outfit tended to have on people – especially the men – around her. Anything to make her job easier. Beside – she liked the effect it had: men were worms after all…

Shaking her head in response to the guard’s offer, Alison composed herself, running a leather-clad hand through her long black locks. She sensed that the guards thought she was mad – after all, even with his powers suppressed Walker’s cell was Hellishly cold – but, even if her constitution couldn't match his, she was a Nova - & some things just didn’t bother her as much as they used to. In any case, a coat would ruin the effect of her outfit, & first impressions always counted.

Alison nodded to the guard nearest the door controls: she knew as he entered his access code that banks of machinery would be simultaneously testing his identity in, pretty much, every way known to man. Still, it only took a second, & the door to the cell slid smoothly open.

The kid was as she’d requested – power suppressing drugs were fresh in his veins, & he’d been manacled wrist & ankle to a chair which itself was welded firmly to the cell floor: not the standard ‘Hannibal Lector’ getup they tended to favour in the Bahrain facility, but – from a psychological point of view – a much better fit for the role she was to play… If her timing was right, he’d just be waking up from the sedatives they gave inmates like him whenever they needed to tend to them. Walker didn’t really look any worse for wear – despite the fact she’d ordered them to not bother with food or drink for the few days he’d been a resident at the facility – at most he appeared a bit stir-crazy: shutting an energetic teenager into a small, boring, room for several days may well have been the best punishment she could have though up.

Alison walked into the room as she picked up the first stirrings of Walker’s mind waking up, satisfied that the first sensory input the teenage monster had was the sound of her high-heels clipping across the hard white floor. With the door slid silently shut behind her, she struck a pose directly in front of ‘Glacier’s’ eye line: her own dark outfit & tattoos in stark contrast with the featureless white of the rest of the cell. She looked at the kid, her expression one of authority which, she knew well, combined with her Nova-perfect figure & provocative outfit, would help to stir contrasting & confusing feelings in the teenage monster. She knew his driving goal was to survive – it was his nature, his deepest, most primal, motivation: there was no doubt in her mind that he’d accept the proposal. Then he’d be hers - & she’d make sure that Ricardo was avenged – in as long & drawn-out a process as she could devise.

Sensing that the kid had recovered his wits enough to be receptive, Alison broke the carefully tailored silence, her upper-crust tones carrying just the right combination of dominance & sexual energy to twist the teenager round her finger…

“My name is 'Psyche': I’m your last chance – you either belong to me, or you’re left to suffer on the lab tables. Your choice – it’s the last you get, so make it a good one.”

Michael:

Heather was flustered – she always seemed to be flustered these days. It weighed heavily on her just how lucky she was – recruited straight out of college by Masters International, & now assigned as a secretary… no, as an assistant to one of the company’s Nova employees. The last thing she wanted to do was to screw-up: not after she’d been given such a huge opportunity. She had friends on her business course who’d have killed – some of them quite possibly literally – for the chances she’d been given. It wasn’t that she was clumsy… well, at least not usually that clumsy… it was just the Novas – she just knew that she looked small & insignificant next to them – they were like… well, like some kind of Greek gods come to life - & she was nothing. That revelation didn’t seem to help her co-ordination, or her anxiety levels, in their presence – she just knew that she was going to end up spilling coffee over Caestus Pax or something equally stupid, & that would be the end of everything…

… Mr Davison was a great boss – handsome, friendly, a sporting hero – everything a girl could dream of – but, in some ways, he was the worst of the lot. He was just so damned persuasive. All he had to do was make a comment, or look at her with that twinkle in his eyes & that smile upon his lips, & years of building her self-esteem just flowed away: she’d blush like a schoolgirl & rush to do his bidding. God, he could have told her to do anything, & she just knew she’d do it – it was like she had no willpower around the man – if ‘man’ was the correct term for such a divine personality. Sometimes she wake-up late at night in a cold sweat – her dreams filled with possible scenarios – the things he could make her do: the tasks she secretly wanted him to order her to perform… Heather knew how lame she was being, but it was impossible not to get obsessed with her boss – with trying to please him, yearning to satisfy his every whim & desire… & here she was again: jumping though hoops like a trained poodle just to make sure he was happy – yet, even worse, thankful for the opportunity to do so… Damn it, she needed more therapy than even the Masters International benefit package provided…

Swallowing hard, trying her best to steady her nerves, Heather lightly – almost with trepidation – touched the intercom’ button on her desk,

“Mr Davison, Sir,” Hah – there she went again – she should just throw in a ‘your Highness’ or go all-out with a ‘my Lord & Master’ & get it over with – she couldn’t even keep the tremor out of her voice. You, thought Heather to herself, are a lost cause, you pathetic, drooling, simpleton. “Mr Davison, I’ve booked the restaurant you requested for yourself & your guest. I took the liberty of arranging the Masters International Rolls-Royce to take you there as well… I hope that wasn’t out of turn, Sir. I… I could change it for the limo’… or… or the helicopter, if you’d prefer, Sir…”

Heather removed her finger from the intercom’ button, cringing at her own display of worthless toadying – but, at the same time, already feeling the rush of excitement at hearing His voice again… Yes, screamed the small part of her mind that managed to cling on to being a modern, well-educated, successful, career-woman, you are, indeed, a lost cause…

Slither:

“Carla girl, are you listening to me?” Kelly sighed with frustration – anyone would think that her friend had never had a first date before. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Carla has seen fit to trust her with the man’s (she presumed it was a man… but Carla had always been a little on the strange side…) identity. Probably married or ugly or something she guessed – but Kelly had always liked to hold the facts in her hands before she passed judgement. Like the mystery she’d hit upon in her latest assignment,

“I was saying,” she emphasised the word, in a vain attempt to drag Carla’s attention away from going through her entire wardrobe – again – in some misguided attempt to ensure her date was ‘perfect’ – like that ever happened… “I was saying, Miss Carla Franklin, that the eyewitness accounts & the OpNet footage don’t match: the people who witnessed the fire all swear blind that there was some sort of ‘globe of fire’ that surrounded that silly Junebug character – but there’s nothing at all on the footage – she just glides down to the ground – the only flames about are those involved in the actual blaze. I’d just put it down to imagination, but all the eyewitnesses saw the same thing - & you know how much of a cop-out I always think ‘mass hysteria’ is as an excuse. No – something weird was going on there; & I mean besides the huge fire & Novas popping out of the woodwork left, right, & centre…”

Kelly watched for her friend’s reaction to the amazing revelation she’d just thrown into the conversation… Then gave up….

“The red one.” She conceded, pointing to one of the two dresses Carla held up for her inspection…

Blaze:

Emma smiled – the smoky atmosphere of the club mingled with the familiar jazz-style beats, stripping away the years that she’d lost – the years that she’d lost because of her. The world was such a confusing place now – somehow everything was faster, bigger, more… what was that word everyone liked to use?.. ‘Global’ – that was it – one big world all merging into a chaotic tangle which a lone girl from the jazz age could hardly be expected to comprehend. It had been nice of Nathan to bring her to this place – although she recalled, with a sly smile, that when she & Hunni had snuck out of school to attend the Harlem clubs back in the twenties they had hardly been the safest of places: the excitement had always been part of the attraction for her room-mate whilst Emma had been the cautious, the sensible, one. Still, she secretly felt that it wouldn’t have been such a terrible thing if a man in a pin-striped suit was to pull a Tommy gun out of a violin case that evening: if nothing else, it’d give Nathan another chance to be gallant…

… The young lady stole a glance at her companion for the evening – her protector, ‘Blaze’. It was a strange name, yet somehow seemed to fit. At first the eyes & the glow had worried her – too much like half-recalled nightmares of the ancient goddess that hid within her own soul for comfort. But Blaze had proven to be dashing, adventurous, protective, kind… like Johnny had been. She’d thought that the new Masters – Johnny’s descendent – would have been the same, but she’d been wrong. He’d tried to… to let her out… What she most feared; & he’d had the words – the spell – on hand to do just that. He’d attacked poor young John – the one they called Glacier – made him mad, threatened to release her if he didn’t join the fight. Now they were saying that John was in some sort of jail or asylum – that he’d killed a hero in the battle. It was all going wrong – Johnny had never been entirely ethical, but he’d always, in the end, been on the side of right – at least as far as she knew. This Masters… he scared her. Emma glanced once again at her companion – she longed to tell him, for him to take her away from Masters – to someplace safe… safe at last… But he worked for Masters &… &, they said Masters had eyes & ears everywhere – that Johnny’s newspapers & movie studios had grown into some vast organisation which knew everything that happened everywhere. How could anyone hide from that? If only Dr Maxwell was still alive – Emma was sure that if anyone she’d ever known would be able to understand this new age, to fathom some path out of the tangled web she’d been awakened into, it would have been the Doctor. But he was gone, they were all gone… She didn’t have anyone left she could trust… Except, maybe… Emma’s hand gently found its way to that of her protector – a soft smile touched her lips as she tried to relax & enjoy the show – maybe there was hope left in this new age?..

William:

Janny smiled as she opened the door to her childhood friend – or, at least, what was left of him. She noted the Nova-perfection of his build… & inwardly fought the nausea that rose in her throat. William had always been so… so human. Her best friend & maybe, one day, he’d have been much more than that. But now? Now he was something else, something inhuman, something monstrous. It was all so very wrong. She felt cheated – why did it have to happen to him? It just wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t abandon him in his time of greatest need – their friendship had meant too much to her for that. No, she’d have to help him – it was the right thing to do.

William entered at her polite invitation – too polite she thought, just for a moment: but he’ll most likely put that down to the way they’d drifted apart recently. Moving in different worlds – he liked to be with his own, fallen, kind now. Oh, the pretence of politeness had been maintained, but so-called ‘Novas’ had such important things to do – innocents to be slaughtered in the random crossfire of their battles, careers to be ruined by the barest minimum application of their oh-so-superhuman talents, millennia of religion & philosophy to be laid waste – in short, they had a species to destroy: humanity.

Janny offered to take his coat – but it just merged, in a sickeningly organic way, into the rest of his clothes: ‘eufiber’ he said with a grin, as if he was proud to be coating his body with slime excreted by another of his species. How could people not see these monsters for what they really were? It was all so obvious. Again she managed to feint a smile, even to engage in the pointless chit-chat of small-talk: she was on autopilot – had no idea of what either of them were saying – but years of social-conditioning by her upper-crust mother had, at last, proven themselves useful. She indicated a seat, poured him a drink – it would have no effect on his alien body, no doubt, but it would, as a gesture, serve to help relax him, to put him off-guard.

The trip-hammer beat of her heart was so loud that Janny feared that William would hear it – they could do that, couldn’t they? At least some could – who was to say what warped abilities the powers of darkness & chaos had bestowed upon her childhood friend. He didn’t seem to react – not even when she opened the polished mahogany box & removed the gun. Of course, it wasn’t really a gun – that was just its physical form. Spiritually it was a flaming sword – a cleansing blade to purify blackened souls. She didn’t pull back the slide – it would have made too much noise, & she’d prepared for this very, very, carefully – there was already a bullet in the chamber. .45 calibre armour-piercing explosive: the best money could buy – ‘ideal for home defence’ the salesman had said: & that was what it was to be used for. Not in the crude sense that he’d meant it – but in a broader sense – she was doing her part to defend the Earth – the home of humanity – from the evils of the daemonic hordes that had invaded - & been allowed to by the blind masses who flocked so readily to idolatry & worship of these darkest of false gods.

Stepping quietly behind William Janny levelled the gun at the back of his head – angled so that the bullet would blow out the cancerous lump in his forebrain that represented what he’d become. Even as she did so she automatically answered his latest, pointless, pleasantry with a few simple, happy, choice words of her own. With one hand on the gun, & the other on the sword-cross of Saint Michael she wore around her neck, Janny squeezed the trigger…

… William awoke with a jolt. All around him the bed-clothes had aged to dust – just like all the other times. Yet this time… this time he’d seen – seen horrific events. But… was it real, or was it just a nightmare?..

Terry:

Detective Bradley rubbed his tired eyes &, not for the first time, wished that the precinct hadn’t gone all ‘no smoking’ – didn’t they realise that cops worked there? Shaking the thought from his head, & popping two pieces of nicotine gum into his mouth, he turned back to the flickering computer monitor in front of him – yeah, ‘flickering’ – all that cash Masters donated to the police never seemed to filter down far enough to keep his computer up-to-date. What use were flying cars & electric guns in solving your average homicide? Like the rest of the planet, the department had gone image-crazy. That led him back to the subject of the file on his computer: Terry Nathanson.

He’d met Nathanson – hence the assignment & the forced overtime. Bradley was an old-fashioned cop, or at least that’s what he liked to think. Nathanson had seemed like an okay guy to him – arrogant, sure – but then that was typical of any first year rookie who thought he was in a movie – let alone a first year rookie who erupted! At first the Chief & the Mayor had been fighting tooth & nail to get the poor sap back into the blue – image again: a Nova on the force would do great things for the city’s image, not to mention rub T2M’s noses in it. Then there’d been all that stuff over in Japan – breaking international laws left & right, so they said. Plus the whole thing about dating a known terrorist. Bradley sighed – that one even he had problems with – those ‘Nova Vigilance’ scumbags had killed more than their fair share of cops in their time: sure everyone has the right to express an opinion, but a cop-killer, in Bradley’s book, was always first & foremost a cop killer. Pretty damned straight-forward.

Oh, he could see the attraction – personally the PathFinder chick just gave him the creeps, but he’d seen weirder kinks in his time – even known a few good cops with stranger leanings; but Nathanson was playing a dangerous game. Still, even at this stage he could be salvageable – turn in his terrorist buddies, claim to have been working undercover all that time. Sipping at his several-hours-old cold coffee Bradley suddenly felt sorry for the kid - &, after all, that’s all that Nathanson was – another rookie out of his depth. He didn’t want to see the kid exploited as a symbol for the city, but he did think he could make a half-decent cop even… the detective chuckled grimly to himself – he’d been thinking that a guy like Nathanson, a Nova, could make a real difference out there on the streets – he’d thought that any such youthful ideals had been washed out of his system by the filth of the streets years ago. Hey – if Nathanson could inspire even an old cynic like him, then maybe there was a place for him as a symbol?.. Nah…

Interface:

“Play.”

At Chen’s command the computer monitor began scrolling concentrated text at a speed too rapid for the human eye to follow, let alone the human brain to comprehend. But Chen wasn’t human – not anymore. She, like the subject she was reviewing, was a Nova – her eyes darted across the text, her mind absorbing every detail, ever fragment of information squeezed into the streaming data. That data was revealing indeed – this Chalmers, this ‘Interface’, was as smart as she was…

“Stop.”

Having taken the few seconds necessary to mentally consume the file, Chen leant back in her chair, folding her long, shapely, legs & steepling her fingers. The Asian-American woman’s mind raced – it always raced – that was her gift. She contemplated Interface – what he meant to her, the company, the research they did. Of course, she was also formulating schematics for a new hyper-jet interceptor she’d just thought up, figuring out how to exploit certain gaps in the human genome, planning exactly how long it would take her to fetch a mug of fresh coffee from the lab next door, & analysing why she couldn’t maintain a long-term relationship – even though she was superhumanly good-looking & went to the effort to explain in detail exactly what it was her boyfriends did right &, especially, wrong in the bedroom. All these processes raced about the Doctor’s brilliant mind – all being given more attention than any one human mind could ever hope to devote to a concept. Apart from the last one – which seemed like a constant, & illogical, mystery – they all rushed to suitable conclusions…

… Steaming mug of fresh coffee in hand, Dr Chen watched her male counterpart hard at work in the lab which had been set aside for him to ‘tinker’. The metallic skin was an interesting, if purely aesthetic, touch, & his work indicated a rational & analytical approach that tallied closely with Mary’s own. In theory – given his mind & his not-inconsiderable Nova powers – Interface should be able to do, almost literally, anything. Yet he tinkered with just the one project. It was an intriguing project, & Dr Chen knew all too well why Masters would wish for the young scientist to pursue it, but there was so much more he could be putting his incredible mind to. Off the top of her head she thought of fifty-two different projects she was overseeing which would benefit from Interface’s input – forty-eight of them were, unfortunately, classified above the metallic Nova’s security clearance. She recalled Interface’s psychological profile – weak-willed, unsure of himself, but always interested in new things, in finding answers to questions. Yet there was a cunning to the young-man’s outward persona that most appeared to have missed – a level of buffoonery that was a little too strained to be purely natural. With more confidence he could develop into an incredible asset. And he did have a cute butt – from a purely scientific point of view, the Doctor quickly reminded herself…

… Chen noted the touch of annoyance on Interface’s features as the door to his lab opened & shut behind her – a trace that was quickly replaced with the normal first reaction by men to her incredibly attractive body… She’d pre-calculated how long it’d take the young man to gather his wits – based on observation, previous experience with others, Interface’s own profiles, & average statistical variances. She was, naturally, spot on. Just before he tried to speak, she told him why she was there,

“We’re going to start dating. Pick me up tonight at eight, lab twenty-seven, sub-basement three. Wear a tuxedo – the tailor will be along to fit you at three. The Masters limo will take us. We’ll be eating at a restaurant I’ve selected that most closely matches both our palettes. Make sure to wear clean undergarments – we may have sex later in the evening.”

As she walked out of the lab, Dr Chen’s mind had already moved on to the potential destructive benefits of a dark matter-based bomb, a revolutionary way to solve New York’s traffic problems, a method of subliminal advertising that would be undetectable if placed within badly dubbed animé, & a rota that would ensure the coffee pot in lab twenty-seven was never more than half-empty of fresh coffee…

[Archer21]

DeVries Office, New York:

Sighing, John snapped the cellphone closed and slid it into a pocket. He felt bad; Kenny was working so hard trying to help him with the 'car', and he could tell that his friend thought he was just slacking off in New York. Hardly the case; between the restaurant scouting, dating Janet, following leads, designing new gadgets, and planning how to get the best contract possible out of the premiere Elite company on the planet, he counted himself lucky he didn't have to sleep as much anymore.

Still, he felt disconnected from Kenny, a separation he hadn't really noticed before, and he was afraid Kenny was starting to feel the same way.

Taking a deep breath, she thumbed the intercom’ switch & instructed the secretary to send Mr Fabry in…

Hearing his name mentioned, the actor forced his worries to the back of his mind, setting a mental reminder to himself to revisit them later. Schooling his face to it's normal pleasant demeanor, he smiled warmly at the secretary as she motioned him in, mouthing a silent 'Thank you' as he passed by to enter the office.

Scanning the room by habit, he quickly noted the general layout and objects, as well as the open view of the skyline. And of course, he studied Elizabeth Cable. Sitting at her desk, she looked professional and beautiful and...tired. Well-concealed, by both her demeanor and makeup, but the very slight slump to her body indicated fatigue. He noted it for later.

Smiling his mega-watt smile, he approached her desk, aware of his own appearance and it's hopeful effect on her. Tall, strong, confident and dashedly handsome, today he was dressed in regular clothing, his eufiber hidden beneath as a set of boxer briefs and undershirt. Dark grey slacks, subtly expensive shoes, and a black turtleneck that helped emphasize his deep chest and broad shoulders.

Stopping next to one of the chairs on his side of the desk, he warmly extends his hand. "Johnathan Fabry; please, call me John."

[Prince of Boredom]

“Mr Davison, Sir,” Hah – there she went again – she should just throw in a ‘your Highness’ or go all-out with a ‘my Lord & Master’ & get it over with – she couldn’t even keep the tremor out of her voice. You, thought Heather to herself, are a lost cause, you pathetic, drooling, simpleton. “Mr Davison, I’ve booked the restaurant you requested for yourself & your guest. I took the liberty of arranging the Masters International Rolls-Royce to take you there as well… I hope that wasn’t out of turn, Sir. I… I could change it for the limo’… or… or the helicopter, if you’d prefer, Sir…”

"Thank you Heather, no that's perfect. Everything seems to be under control here, why don't you go ahead and take off for the evening, I'll give you a call if I need anything."

Mike leans back in his chair and puts his legs up on his desk, relaxing from the day's events, then notices a manila floder on his desk with a sticky note attached,

Mr. Davison,

The files you requested.

    -Heather

Opening up the folder, Mike saw a copy of the very abrreviated police service record of Terry Nathanson. Filing through the papers, he stopped to read various news articles of Terry's work at NASA, his connection to the Ibiza Airport incident, as well as his services for Masters International.

Having read all of the files, Mike placed the folder back on the table, let out a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, letting himself be lost in deep thought.

[malkboy]

In any case, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake this time – this time he’d managed to make time for family…

Ian's face breaks into a wide smile the moment he sees his brother, then fades back to the same concerned look he'd been carrying around for the weeks since the lab incident, the same incident the caused him to erupt. "Hey Bro, have you burned a hole in your stomache with that stuff yet? It's been way too long since we've been able to meet face to face, so what I want to do is treat you to some real food later on. And we can really discuss everything that's been going on, hopefully in someplace private."

Ian pulls out a chair next to his brother and sits down next to him, "So what's been going on with you? Let's catch up with what's been going on for you first, Andrew."

[Ayre el KaBeer]

With one hand on the gun, & the other on the sword-cross of Saint Michael she wore around her neck, Janny squeezed the trigger…

..."No!" ::shocked Fear and confusion threaten to overwhelm Will, he franticly reaches for his bed-side lamp knocking it to the floor, breaking it. His panic rises in the dark, and he is almost startled as his room is lit up red. His confusion fading as he remembers what the source of the familiar, and now comforting light is comming from, himself.

Finally calm, William's concentration back to the dream, it had to be a dream Janny is his best friend, they practically grew up together, she was always looking out for her dumb pal, there was no way she would want him dead!... *Would she?*

Will's certainty is shakey at best, afterall, he has had Dreams that have come true before. *The sheets!* Inspecting his sheets Will's stomach sinks *They're worn!... Was it another vision?... No! This doesn't mean sqaut! Janny would never...* his head slumps and he covers his eyes with his palms "What the f**k is going on?".

No longer able to sleep he gets out of bed, washes up and dresses for 'work' *More like school*. Looking out of the window, he realises the sun is still hours away from rising but he doesn't care, still unsettled from his dream wanting out of his apartment, he leaves for the Masters building, the long walk giving him plenty of time to think.

[brilyn]

Derek glanced up, annoyed at yet another interruption.

“We’re going to start dating. Pick me up tonight at eight, lab twenty-seven, sub-basement three. Wear a tuxedo – the tailor will be along to fit you at three. The Masters limo will take us. We’ll be eating at a restaurant I’ve selected that most closely matches both our palettes. Make sure to wear clean undergarments – we may have sex later in the evening.”

"........"

[Dr. Chen strides out]

"um...."

"ah......"

Minutes pass. Derek stll mutely staring at the door.

Well, her efficiency is commendable.

But we've not even spoken much since the benefit. And even then, we didn't speak much at all.

Indeed. But she's hardly unattractive.

But things aren't supposed to be this way, aren't they?

What, you want the inefficiency, and irritation of a 'date'? Of the tribal mating ceremony?

Hang on..... she said 'sex'......

Well done. Yes, she did.

Um.... right so. ::blush

"Um... ok then." says Derek, to the closed door.

[Heritage]

“Carla girl, are you listening to me?” Kelly sighed with frustration – anyone would think that her friend had never had a first date before. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Carla has seen fit to trust her with the man’s (she presumed it was a man… but Carla had always been a little on the strange side…) identity. Probably married or ugly or something she guessed – but Kelly had always liked to hold the facts in her hands before she passed judgement. Like the mystery she’d hit upon in her latest assignment,

“I was saying,” she emphasised the word, in a vain attempt to drag Carla’s attention away from going through her entire wardrobe – again – in some misguided attempt to ensure her date was ‘perfect’ – like that ever happened… “I was saying, Miss Carla Franklin, that the eyewitness accounts & the OpNet footage don’t match: the people who witnessed the fire all swear blind that there was some sort of ‘globe of fire’ that surrounded that silly Junebug character – but there’s nothing at all on the footage – she just glides down to the ground – the only flames about are those involved in the actual blaze. I’d just put it down to imagination, but all the eyewitnesses saw the same thing - & you know how much of a cop-out I always think ‘mass hysteria’ is as an excuse. No – something weird was going on there; & I mean besides the huge fire & Novas popping out of the woodwork left, right, & centre…”

Kelly watched for her friend’s reaction to the amazing revelation she’d just thrown into the conversation… Then gave up….

“The red one.” She conceded, pointing to one of the two dresses Carla held up for her inspection…

Carla was happy to see Kelly today - something normal, something familiar. They'd had lunch, and after trying desperatly to hide her nerves, she'd broken down and told her about the date, though discrection did dictate not revealing much about Mike. God, what if they hit it off? Could she spy on MI, work for Marco and date Mike without going nuts or getting killed? Somehow the high stakes surrounding this dinner made it even more exhilerating.

But Kelly's statements about Junebug were making her nervous in a whole other way, and this one was much less pleasant - god, she was such a frickin' idiot! What was she thinking, honestly!

I'm sorry, I'm being such a spaz! ::blush Thanks, thanks for helping me with this, you have no idea how stressful this is for me now. ::biggrin

She looks at the red dress.

You think? Yeah, I guess it would work. What time is it? Shit, I need to finish getting ready!

Carla checked and re-checked her makeup - even dormed down, she had to admit she was a knockout these days, thanks to the quantum genie. Thank god Kelly was buying (or seemed to buy) her explanation about the spa visits and the workouts...

When at last she was ready to hit the street, she grabbed a lightweight, ankle- length coat she'd kept in the back of the closet - actually, her eufiber, which she was bringing as a sort of security blanket. She seemed to feel naked if she went anywhere without it these days.

She hugged Kelly goodbye, asking her to wish her good luck, and made a run for the N train. As the elevated train rumbled over Queens, Carla tried to calm herself, but it wasn't really helping - the undercover mission/first date combo was proving to be a bit much ::blush

Sooner than she liked, she was changing trains at Queensboro Plaza and on her way into the city - when at last she trotted up out of the subway into Manhattan, she was as ready as she'd ever be, which wasn't actually saying much. One last check on her makeup before crossing the street to the Masters Building.

Go get 'em, tiger ::wink ::unsure

If she clutched her purse any tighter, it was a lost cause. Shopping - tomorrow she could go shopping...

Hello, I'm here to see Mr. Davison? ::biggrin ::blush The name is Franklin, Carla Franklin.

[Asbjørn]

"No not public, I was thinking more in terms of familiarity...Since you're in New York anyway, go to my apartment and call me when you're outside my door...See you soon Nate."

"Right."

Nathan hangs up and sends a text message to Will, Derek and Mike

He's alive! I just talked to Terry, and he wants to meet. You coming? Meet me at the coffeeshop outside his apartment.

That done, he takes a shower and lets his mind wander to last night.

*What are you doing, Nate? She's from another world! She could have been your grandmother, for crying out loud. Ok, a damn sexy one, but still... Besides, you know what's gonna happen if you do get her in the sack, don't you? When you least expect it, she's gonna be back. And guess who's going to be first on the shitlist...* ::sarcasm

Squinting to see his own reflection in the mirror clearly a few minutes later he quickly shaves - briefly thankful that he doesn't have to be careful with the razor at all these days - and studies his hair.

*Time for a new haircut, maybe? A mohawk could be cool... or maybe something completely different. Something older, a kinda vintage thirties look...?*

Realizing what he's thinking he shakes his head and runs a hand through his bleached blonde hair again, giving it the normal ruffled look.

*Get a life, Nate. If she's got objections to how you look, it's not gonna be because of your hair.* ::rolleyes

Drying himself off he leaves the bathroom as his eufiber shifts and flows from its dormant wristband form on his right forearm to cover his entire body. He concentrates to give it his normal appearance - the style he always felt most comfortable in: Worn sneakers, washed-out jeans and a black t-shirt. Grabbing his denim jacket off the rack and his trusty sunglasses from the kitchen table, he checks his cellphone for messages and heads outside.

He slams the door of his old apartment shut - carefully, he'd almost broken it down accidentally several times lately - jumps onto the railing and slides down all three floors. Jumping off he walks over to his mailbox, opens it...

... and barely catches the tidal wave of letters exploding from the cramped container. Envelopes in every imaginable colour, some small, some large, some scented and perfumed, some with large, childlike letters, some with the handwriting of an old woman, at least two law firms offering legal services and one gentleman offering the organizing of a fan club. And all from the city.

"Jeezus H. Tapdancing Christ!" ::blink

Stuffing the mail back in the box, he shakes his head and locks it shut. *What did I do? Have I suddenly been on N! or something?*

Still not quite believing that he's actually got a mailbox full of fanmail Nathan arrives at the Starbuck's outside Terry's place a while later, orders a big mug of steaming java, grabs a newspaper for cover and company and sits down in a corner to wait for the others.

[Asbjørn]

Noticing Vinnie’s glance as he opened the door to the back, Joey looked over,

“Oh yeah – that’s th’ one that was trashed by that Nathanson guy – never seen anything like it, really – sort of ‘crushed’, but no impacts or anything. We took a look, but we’re gonna’ hafta’ junk th’ thing. Th’ nerve o’ th’ guy, huh?”

"Cops...", Vinnie shrugs. "What do you expect?"

He takes a closer look at the car before he moves along after Joey.

"Hey, Joe! How much have you been looking into it? Any idea how much force was used?"

Following the armorer through the rooms he takes in all the details, absentmindedly checking if the place really is as secure as he claims.

“Hope this is what you wanted, Vinnie – Red Army issue heavy laser. Can’t say I’ve tested it – the technology’s a bit beyond my expertise in any case, but Chin swears it’s th’ most impressive sniper weapon you’ll have ever seen - & he’s always been good to his word in th’ past. I… uh… I’m not sure testin’ it at th’ range is a good idea – Chin reckons it’ll burn through concrete pretty quickly. Maybe you could head out to your grandfather’s place in th’ woods? That’s pretty quiet – God knows no-one’s ever found any o’ th’ bodies buried out there…”

"Yeah, that should work. This looks perfect, Joey. Just what I need.", the young mobster grins, a dangerous expression crossing his handsome face. ::devil

Reaching into the crate, he runs a hand over the weapon and noting all the details before he disconnects the rifle from the power pack, picks it up and raises it to his shoulder. Pointing it in a safe direction he aims along its length and says

"You got the theoretical specs on it? What kind of range are we talking about?"

[brilyn]

He's alive! I just talked to Terry, and he wants to meet. You coming? Meet me at the coffeeshop outside his apartment.

Derek receives the text message, and glances 'round the lab.

"I guess I could use a break anyway....."

Reply: On my way. But I need to be back in MI for 14.30.

[phoenix]

Glacier's hypersensitive olfactory senses note the presence of the newcomer before his brain is even close to equipped to deal with the information, and, not for the first time in the past few weeks (or maybe days, or maybe months), Glacier wakes up in a state of pure rage.

Sensing that the kid had recovered his wits enough to be receptive, Alison broke the carefully tailored silence, her upper-crust tones carrying just the right combination of dominance & sexual energy to twist the teenager round her finger…

“My name is 'Psyche': I’m your last chance – you either belong to me, or you’re left to suffer on the lab tables. Your choice – it’s the last you get, so make it a good one.”

In his mind, Glacier leaps to his feet, tearing apart his restraints with contemptous ease, closes the distance between himself and this arrogant newcomer in less than a second, and hits her so hard that she's dead long before the pulped and frozen remains of her pitiful body punch a hole through the ceiling in his cell...

In reality, however, an overwhelming sense of tiredness puts the notion down, and the once-lethal nova instead settles for trying to unbalance his new tormentor - no doubt on that score, anyway - with a teenager's leering and aggressively sexual grin.

"Can I choose both? You look like you can handle it rough."

[Ayre el KaBeer]

The MI Building:

Will, getting his apettite back is sharing a box of donuts with a couple of Masters International's security guards, Tom and Reg (at least he thinks it's Reg, could have been Ray, anyway). His tutors and Masters nowhere to be seen on these lower levels of the building (not that he was actually looking), he decided he needed some idle chit chat with anyone really, he was tired of thinking about the dream and really wasn't up for a day of lecturing on the finer arts of running a multinational. He'd met Tom earlier that day as he arrived at MI little before 6 that morning, Tom recognised him immediately and didn't 'apear' to go through the usual MI security measures of scrutinising his identity the 80 or so odd times Kane demanded. He'd learnt, once Tom was finally comfortable around the young nova, that it was Tom's youngest son Christopher's 10th birthday, and that the kid could throw a baseball like a pro, unsuprising the kid was into baseball as Tom is a die hard Yankees fan, afterall. Will found he liked the guy and when he was asked, not too politely, from one of Kane's luitenants (he suspected) to let the guard get back to his duties, Will left with a promise of returning with snacks later on.

On his 7th glazed donut he recieves the message...

He's alive! I just talked to Terry, and he wants to meet. You coming? Meet me at the coffeeshop outside his apartment.

Thinking for a moment about the situation with Terry and what happened at Weschester, Will rises and with a farewell to Tom and... Rob? was it? leaves the MI building. *I hope this turns out ok* he replies to Nate's message "I'll be there in about 20" as he hails a cab.

[Prince of Boredom]

Nathan hangs up and sends a text message to Will, Derek and Mike

Mike replies:

Be there shortly...

Looking down at his desk, Mike finds the file with Terry's address, then grabs a cab...

[brilyn]

OC: knew I forgot something.... ::wink

After sending the txt message, Derek heads to reception to arrange a cab.

[ProfPotts]

DeVries - New York:

"Johnathan Fabry; please, call me John."

The blonde South African woman stands, returns the smile ::smile & the handshake,

"Elizabeth Cable: it's an honour to meet you in person, John."

Offering her (potential) client a seat, Ms Cable sits herself & leans back in her chair. For a moment her blue eyes appear to be sizing up the actor in front of her ::sly , then she quickly breaks the silence,

"So, John - what is it that we can help you with?"

Novabux Coffe Emporium:

"Hey Bro, have you burned a hole in your stomache with that stuff yet? It's been way too long since we've been able to meet face to face, so what I want to do is treat you to some real food later on. And we can really discuss everything that's been going on, hopefully in someplace private... So what's been going on with you? Let's catch up with what's been going on for you first, Andrew."

For a moment the FBI man watches his little brother as if he was a suspect... ::lookaround Then (to Link's relief), the family connection breaks-in, & Andrew's look softens. Smiling, he shrugs, sips his coffee again, then shakes his head,

"Well - there's still that damned 'lab' case... But there's nothing much we can do with that right now. Apart from that... well, you know it's mostly classified stuff, Ian. Anyway - I didn't come here to talk 'work' - how the Hell have you been. I must say I'm a bit surprised - but you look pretty good! Working out lately? That Justice girl got you on a diet?" ::sly

Joey's Garage:

"Hey, Joe! How much have you been looking into it? Any idea how much force was used?"

The senior grease-monkey shrugs,

"Do we look like a Rashoud facility, Vin'?" ::wink

"You got the theoretical specs on it? What kind of range are we talking about?"

Rummaging around in the crate, Joey emerges with a thick, metal-sleeved, ring-binder folder: it's about six inches thick, & full of what appears to be technical specifications & instructions - all in Chinese, naturally. Joey passes the manual to Vinnie,

"Knock yerself out..." ::sly

Death Wish:

"Can I choose both? You look like you can handle it rough."

For a moment the stunning T2Mer just stands & regards Glacier with a mixed look of pity & distain on her face. Then she shrugs, turns on her heel, & heads back towards the cell's door,

"Whatever. Give my regards to Dr Toiho when he vivisects you..." ::hmmm

Her words have a distinct tone of finality to them... ::devil

Novabux - across town:

Still not quite believing that he's actually got a mailbox full of fanmail Nathan arrives at the Starbuck's outside Terry's place a while later, orders a big mug of steaming java, grabs a newspaper for cover and company and sits down in a corner to wait for the others.

Nate discovers that 'Starbucks' has been brought-out by 'Novabux' - which is pretty much the same thing, but with Nova-themed photos & the like, & 24-hour a day N! channel playing over the counter. It seems like everyone these days is jumping onto the 'erupted' bandwagon... ::rolleyes

[Asbjørn]

"Do we look like a Rashoud facility, Vin'?"

"Now that you mention it..." ::sly

Rummaging around in the crate, Joey emerges with a thick, metal-sleeved, ring-binder folder: it's about six inches thick, & full of what appears to be technical specifications & instructions - all in Chinese, naturally. Joey passes the manual to Vinnie,

"Knock yerself out..."

Vinnie casts one glance at the folder, then sighs

"Great. Fan-f*ckin'-tastic..." ::sarcasm

Throwing it into the crate he adds, mostly to himself

"And the only guy I know who speaks chinese is a gay mercenary in purple tights..."

He replaces the weapon as well, then closes the crate and looks across the table at Joey.

"Gimme a hand, will ya? Or have some of the boys carry it to my car."

Once the weapon is safely stashed away in the trunk of his car - along with all his other weapons and gear - Vinnie heads out of town, enjoying the feeling of actually traveling for once. When he reaches the old family lodge he checks around for company, then heads out for the nearest possible makeshift shooting range.

Setting himself up with telescopic sights, tripods, bipods and a host of other gadgets he goes about learning how to work this gun, adjusting it to his tastes and getting used to the feel of the rifle.

[Asbjørn]

Nate discovers that 'Starbucks' has been brought-out by 'Novabux' - which is pretty much the same thing, but with Nova-themed photos & the like, & 24-hour a day N! channel playing over the counter. It seems like everyone these days is jumping onto the 'erupted' bandwagon...

Peeking over the newspaper from time to time to see if there's anybody familiar on the screen, Nathan waits for the others. Courtesy of the New York cab system he doesn't have to wait too long before the first of the guys walks in.

After they all show up and Nate's finished his coffee, they head across the street and stop outside the door to Terry's building. He scans the names on the doorbells to make sure, then flips up his cellphone and makes a call.

"Terry? It's Nate. We're here."

He then waits for the door to open and heads up to the flat.

[phoenix]

For a moment the stunning T2Mer just stands & regards Glacier with a mixed look of pity & distain on her face. Then she shrugs, turns on her heel, & heads back towards the cell's door,

"Whatever. Give my regards to Dr Toiho when he vivisects you..." ::hmmm

Her words have a distinct tone of finality to them... ::devilf

Oh, shi-! ::crazy

He hesitates until Psyche is almost out the door, then says,

"Wait!" ::confused

[Archer21]

The blonde South African woman stands, returns the smile  & the handshake,

"Elizabeth Cable: it's an honour to meet you in person, John."

Offering her (potential) client a seat, Ms Cable sits herself & leans back in her chair. For a moment her blue eyes appear to be sizing up the actor in front of her  , then she quickly breaks the silence,

"So, John - what is it that we can help you with?"

*Right down to business.*, he thinks to himself wryly. *Glad I came prepared.*

The megawatt smile slowly fades to a slight grin as he removes the PDA from his pants pocket. Pretending to glance down at it(though he already knows what's displayed by heart), he allows his brow to furrow slightly as if concerned, then looks up at the DeVries rep. "Ms. Cable...Elizabeth, may I call you Elizabeth? I'm here today to hire one or more of your very talented Elites to help me with a private, family matter. Parts of it are public record, but the Fabry clan values discretion."

Grimacing, he slides the PDA across the desk towards her. "You'll have to forgive me. A non-disclosure agreement, something my attorney seemed to insist on; he was worried about bad publicity. Please understand, public image is the lifeblood of an actor. I hope you don't mind. I'll tell you what I can right now."

Leaning slightly forward, he focuses on her, blue eyes intense. "My brother, Jacob Fabry, was murdered about a year ago. All the regular channels of investigation fell short of finding his killers, and the case was closed due to lack of evidence. So I took on the services of an independent specialist...a costumed nova who calls himself The Stranger. I believe he's met two of your Elites...Lodestone and Ghost. Your name came up too, that's why I wanted to talk to you specifically." Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he let out a breath. "The trail to my brother's killers has seemed to hit a snag. Supposedly, there's a fairly powerful, and large group of criminals that houses whoever killed Jake. The Stranger, while quite capable, suggested extra help if I pursue investigating them. He also thought some sort of bodyguard might be in order." He smiles faintly. "This group plays rough if you get caught sticking your nose in their business, apparently."

Leaning back, he seems drained. "So that's why I'm here. The non-disclosure agreement is specific only to certain information, like the murder investigation. I'm happy to play up the DeVries name in regards to a protector."

[malkboy]

For a moment the FBI man watches his little brother as if he was a suspect...  Then (to Link's relief), the family connection breaks-in, & Andrew's look softens. Smiling, he shrugs, sips his coffee again, then shakes his head,

*Whew... You knew this was going to be hard, Ian. But it's the best way to get the information and maybe point people in the right direction*

"Well - there's still that damned 'lab' case... But there's nothing much we can do with that right now. Apart from that... well, you know it's mostly classified stuff, Ian. Anyway - I didn't come here to talk 'work' - how the Hell have you been. I must say I'm a bit surprised - but you look pretty good! Working out lately? That Justice girl got you on a diet?"

Ian chuckles at the thought of Justice putting him on a diet, "I'm only on a seefood diet, I see food and I eat it. But I am working out a bit more and differently than I used to ::wink so I suppose it all balances out. ::devilangel And as for how I've been, I've been busier than a ice cream truck in Hades lately it seems. Always seems to be something new to do, which is a nice change from before where I always seemed to have nothing to do. But speaking of work, that's one of the things I've got to talk to you about. My work that is, it's starting to bleed into areas of intrest for the FBI. And I can't report it in official channels, because of confidentiality conflicts, but what's going on has me bothered deeply. So how about we find ourselves a nice steak in a private booth, on me?"

[ezekiel]

Peeking over the newspaper from time to time to see if there's anybody familiar on the screen, Nathan waits for the others. Courtesy of the New York cab system he doesn't have to wait too long before the first of the guys walks in.

After they all show up and Nate's finished his coffee, they head across the street and stop outside the door to Terry's building. He scans the names on the doorbells to make sure, then flips up his cellphone and makes a call.

"Terry? It's Nate. We're here."

He then waits for the door to open and heads up to the flat.

"Okay, give me a minute..."

The line cuts...

As they shuffle their feet in front of the door waiting, after about a minute a black circle suddenly grows from a spec in the middle of the door to a two meter diameter. A paler speck appears in the middle and suddenly grows as its pulled towards them, reveiling Terry standing before them in a dark, lush, green rain forest.

"Hey guys.."

As soon as they're all through the portal collapses. The smell of earth and wood envelops them and various animals chirp around them.

"You didn't really expect me to talk to you in my apartment did you?"

[Asbjørn]

As soon as they're all through the portal collapses. The smell of earth and wood envelops them and various animals chirp around them.

Nathan looks around himself, takes a deep smell of the fresher - or at least more living - air, and tries to remember the few remnants of biology he once knew...

"You didn't really expect me to talk to you in my apartment did you?"

"er... No. But I was kinda expecting you to open the door like normal people..." ::confused

"Where the hell are we?"

*And is Pathfinder around? I sure as hell hope not...*

Not really expecting an answer to his first question, Nathan launches the next one on his list immediately.

"How are you doing, Terry? What the hell's been going on lately?"

[ProfPotts]

The Ol' Genovese Place:

After quickly popping in to have a few words with the family members present (it's a big family, so there are innumberable cousins, aunts, & uncles dotted about the place) - his Italian vocabulary once again being dusted off - Vinnie heads out back where it's quiet & out of the way. He conscripts a couple of his second-cousins to help him cart the gear he's testing, but has no problems when it comes to dismissing them... A far cry from his 'pre-eruption' days when family members could argue 'til the proverbial cows came home over absolutely anything!

Despite his lingusitic failings, The Ghost finds the manual for the gun to be of some help (there are technical illustrations & statistical charts dotted about in a few key places) - combined with his own quick wits & razor-sharp intellect he manages to figure out the principles the 'sci-fi' cannon works on:

The whole system - gun & powerpack - are of similar bulk to a manpack flamethrower - the powerpack being worn as a backpack. Shrugging into it, Vinnie immediately confirms that it's too heavy for him to carry in that way - he could cart the gun or the powerpack around by himself, but not both (the whole system together weighs around a hundred kilograms).

Power appears to be the biggest problem with the weapon - it's design revolves around limited 'beams' of a fraction of a second's duration - with a fully charged powerpack it can fire ten such 'shots'. The laser can also be set to fire a continuous beam - but this drains the pack in less than three seconds! Still, played across an area such a beam could, in theory, do a lot of damage. Although no engineer himself, Vinnie's 'assassin's' instinct suggests that it could be possible to fit the gun with some sort of single-shot capacitor - removing the need for the bulky powerpack, but limiting the weapon to just one shot.

Range of the laser (after some testing) proves to be around two kilometers - beyond that the beam is diffused enough by the intervining atmosphere to become ineffective as a weapon. Shots within a kilometer or less would be best. The weapon's sighting system is a complex affair with computer-enhanced telescopic nightvision & thermographics which (when calibrated correctly) highlight just one type of target, based on heat (either animals / humans or vehicle engines appear to be the basic settings the system is designed to use) - the thermal optics can penetrate thin barriers (like a basic brick wall) up to around a kilometer range. The sighting system also offers range-finding & targeting reticles.

Taking some time & care, Vinnie proceeds to adjust the gun's fittings - the internal workings of the laser prove to hamper the level of adjustments which can be made to it, but the Elite at least manages to alter the stock, add some grips, & fix a foldable bipod to the front. In the end the gun is, if not a perfect fit, at least a comfortable one.

Once The Ghost confirms that the powerpack can be recharged from regular power supplies (with the correct connections it takes about an hour per 'shot' to recharge the powerpack) he spends some time trying his hand with the weapon. At first the lack of any real need to adjust for gravity, wind conditions, & all those other things one learns about when training as a long-distance marksman throw the Elite a bit - be he's soon able to pip the ace at two kilometers! Considering the large size of the system's 'rifle' component, it turns out to be as accurate as a comparable sniper rifle.

Soon enough melons with faces painted on them are no longer safe in the woods around the Genovese estate... ::ohcrap

Novabux Outside Terry's Place:

... Peeking over the newspaper from time to time to see if there's anybody familiar on the screen...

One story does make Blaze sit up & take note:

It starts with rather shaky footage which appears to have been taken from a helicopter above the sea - centre of the picture looks to be a fishing trawler of some kind. As the 'chopper circles, the camera zooms in to the boat: smashed windows can just be made out on the vessel's cabin, & the faint voice of the cameraman can be heard over the noise of the rotors exclaiming that he thinks he sees movement inside...

... Moments later the cameraman's comments turn to loud exclaimations (many of which are bleeped out for the sake of family viewing) as the oilskin-clad body of a fisherman is blasted through the remains of the cabin window & onto the deck! The man's lifeless corpse lolls about as the boat tosses & turns - be appears to have been broken by some incredible force - the sight is quite disturbing. Then another figure slithers out of the cabin - seemingly ignoring the shattered glass it's gliding across: it only takes a moment for Blaze to recognise the slick serpentine form of the Terat known as Eel!

The monstrous female Nova - electrical sparks visible as they dance across her flesh - glances up at the 'chopper, then undulates over to the dead fisherman. With a swift movement she grabs the man's corpse, holding it up towards the camera, then firmly grasps its head with her other webbed hand...

... At that point the section of picture with Eel & her victim on it is blanked out (with a note from the N! commentator that unedited footage can be viewed on their late show tonight) - but fountains of blood manage to spill out from behind the blanked area. At that point the camera swings about & looses all track of Eel & the boat - sounds of vomiting can be heard from the cameraman...

... Eventually the camera again gets focused on the boat: just in time to witness Eel - now stained a deep black-red - blow a kiss towards the 'chopper, & slip over the side of the boat into the water. Sections of the picture are still blanked out over the fisherman's corpse - although it's impossible not to notice that it seems to be more spread-out than any human form should be able to be... ::crazy

... Switching back to the studio, the N! the news reader reports that the vessel was a Spanish 'bottom trawler' - a type of fishing known to destroy irreplacable cold-water coral habitats - & that the crews of several Spanish & Russian bottom-trawlers have been found murdered in the last few weeks.

The picture now changes to the comments of a Project: Utopia official - condeming the Terat's actions, vowing to bring her to justice, & pointing out that such actions only harm PU's own negotiations with Spain & Russia to cease their destructive form of fishing.

The article concludes with the N! the news reader commenting that neither Eel, the Teragen, nor any environmental action groups have publically claimed responsibility for the murders.

Last Chance Gas:

"Wait!"

The tattooed T2Mer pauses just as she's about to exit the room, but doesn't turn back to face Glacier. Over her shoulder she simply asks,

"Why?"

DeVries - NYC:

"So that's why I'm here. The non-disclosure agreement is specific only to certain information, like the murder investigation. I'm happy to play up the DeVries name in regards to a protector."

Elizabeth (yes, John can call her that ::smile ) frowns as she hears Mr Fabry's sad tale. When he finishes she replies,

"I'm sorry for your loss, John - & I'm sure that we can help you. The legal details," she glances down at the (untouched) PDA in front of her, "we can work out. DeVries prides itself on customer confidentiality - we have standard non-disclosure policies for all our contracts. Although we can't accept any such agreement dictated to us by your lawyers - we have to make sure that our people are protected as well as our clients, you understand - I'm confident that when your own people talk to our legal department they, & you, will be satisfied with the measures we already have in place. None of our clients have ever complained on that score - so you can feel secure that those aspects of your business you wish to remain private will do so."

After a moment's quiet reflection, the South African blonde continues,

"A comment & a question. First: I'll be honest with you up-front & point out that, as a company, DeVries cannot be held responsible for the actions of any other Nova employees, or baseline employees for that matter, which you may have hired to work on the same project as DeVries personnel. If the job is hampered by the presence or activities of this 'Stranger', then it is not the fault of DeVries National Tactical Solutions. Second - & feel free to not answer this question: are you, John, a Nova? I ask because it may well effect the personnel offered for this job..." A sly smile touches the rep's lips ::sly , "... well, that & the fact that you are - if you don't mind me saying so - an inhumanly attractive man, & I'd like to know that that's not just me going mad..."

Brothers:

"... My work that is, it's starting to bleed into areas of intrest for the FBI. And I can't report it in official channels, because of confidentiality conflicts, but what's going on has me bothered deeply. So how about we find ourselves a nice steak in a private booth, on me?"

Andrew's brow furrows at his little bother's worrying words, but he nods - then grins at the mention of lunch,

"You buying me dinner? You must be doing well, kid - you gonna' pay back all that cash you 'borrowed' off me when you were in college too?.. ::sly Steak sounds great - let's go." ::bigsmile

Soon enough the siblings are chowing down on sizzling lumps of cow-flesh in a private booth at a local restaurant. Gesturing with his fork at Ian's seemingly bottemless appetite, as he himself slumps back into his seat & loosens his belt, Andrew declares,

"Wow, bro' - you've got me beaten! I guess that crack about a diet was waaay off! Maybe your woman just doesn't cook for you at all... Next time just order the entire steer already!"

Shaking his head in amazment & washing his meal down with a cool beer, Andrew's look then darkens as his tone becomes more serious,

"Okay then - what's all this about?"

[phoenix]

The tattooed T2Mer pauses just as she's about to exit the room, but doesn't turn back to face Glacier. Over her shoulder she simply asks,

"Why?"

Oh no, you're not turning this around on me yet..

Glacier shrugs as best he can.

"Didn't mean to offend you. If you've got a way out of this hellhole, I'm more than amenable."

[Archer21]

DeVries - NYC:

Elizabeth (yes, John can call her that  ) frowns as she hears Mr Fabry's sad tale. When he finishes she replies,

"I'm sorry for your loss, John - & I'm sure that we can help you. The legal details," she glances down at the (untouched) PDA in front of her, "we can work out. DeVries prides itself on customer confidentiality - we have standard non-disclosure policies for all our contracts. Although we can't accept any such agreement dictated to us by your lawyers - we have to make sure that our people are protected as well as our clients, you understand - I'm confident that when your own people talk to our legal department they, & you, will be satisfied with the measures we already have in place. None of our clients have ever complained on that score - so you can feel secure that those aspects of your business you wish to remain private will do so."

After a moment's quiet reflection, the South African blonde continues,

"A comment & a question. First: I'll be honest with you up-front & point out that, as a company, DeVries cannot be held responsible for the actions of any other Nova employees, or baseline employees for that matter, which you may have hired to work on the same project as DeVries personnel. If the job is hampered by the presence or activities of this 'Stranger', then it is not the fault of DeVries National Tactical Solutions. Second - & feel free to not answer this question: are you, John, a Nova? I ask because it may well effect the personnel offered for this job..." A sly smile touches the rep's lips  , "... well, that & the fact that you are - if you don't mind me saying so - an inhumanly attractive man, & I'd like to know that that's not just me going mad..."

A smile quirks the actor's lips. "I completely understand, and agree with DeVries denial of responsibility for any 'hampering'. I don't think that will be a problem, but I appreciate you mentioning it. As for your question..." John's slight smile becomes a full-fledged grin, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the non-disclosure is signed before you get that answer."

Stretching languourously, John winks at her. "I don't suppose drinks are available? Coffee would be wonderful; always helps smooth me out before I sign a contract." He raises an eyebrow humorously. "That is, if you'd still be interested in signing me as a client...?"

[ezekiel]

"er... No. But I was kinda expecting you to open the door like normal people..." 

"Where the hell are we?"

"Costa Rica, the canopy should prevent any tracking through your cellphones."

Not really expecting an answer to his first question, Nathan launches the next one on his list immediately.

"How are you doing, Terry? What the hell's been going on lately?"

"I'm doing ok...you? What happened at Westchester?"

[malkboy]

"You buying me dinner? You must be doing well, kid - you gonna' pay back all that cash you 'borrowed' off me when you were in college too?..  Steak sounds great - let's go." 

Ian says jokingly, "Sure, Andrew... I'll just pay it back to you one steak at a time. Good enough?"

Soon enough the siblings are chowing down on sizzling lumps of cow-flesh in a private booth at a local restaurant. Gesturing with his fork at Ian's seemingly bottemless appetite, as he himself slumps back into his seat & loosens his belt, Andrew declares,

"Wow, bro' - you've got me beaten! I guess that crack about a diet was waaay off! Maybe your woman just doesn't cook for you at all... Next time just order the entire steer already!"

Laughing Ian says back to his brother, "I told you I was on a seefood diet. I see food and I eat it. And that's not a half bad idea... ordering the whole steer, maybe I'll try it sometime."

Thinking silently to himself, Ian feels guilty for leaving his brother out of a loop he knows he could close, in not only one but two instances. *Sooner or later, he's going to figure out that I erupted and want to know what I was doing when it happened. I just hope it's later, but if I had to hedge my bets... I'd guess sooner. *

"Okay then - what's all this about?"

Ian sighs and takes a deep breath as he starts speaking in hushed tones to his brother, "I want to preface this with; I can't tell you alot of details because of confidentiality agreements. But this is something that has to be silently looked at by dedicated people, and I'm going to end up stepping on the wrong feet. During the course of one of my jobs, I briefly had contact with a girl who was forced into a form of slavery by some disgusting people. She's been separated from them, but that life is all she's ever known and I doubt she'll ever be able to blend into society at large."

Ian glances around and continues in a quiet voice, "The group that did it to this girl, is known as the Dark Templars. Apparantly they've been around awhile, but are just starting to get into the business of dealing some seriously bad stuff. The reason any checks into them need to be held quiet is because this group ties into another old group which has members with some serious money. And you, brother, know what happens when people go poking thier nose in that sort of ordeal."

"I know I'm not a PI and that this isn't my standard faire of work but if you have or can get any information that I might be able to use to keep from stepping on toes, it'd be greatly appriciated. I'd understand if you can't give me anything, but maybe you could tell me whom I shouldn't be listening to so I don't find myself in trouble? I can go other routes to get the same information, or possible lack of information about this group in official channels, but I'm trying to stay above table on this whole thing. It's hard, but I'm trying..." says Ian, as he gazes into his elder brothers expression and gauges the reaction to what he's had to say.

"What do you say, Andrew, can you help me out here?"

[Asbjørn]

"I'm doing ok...you? What happened at Westchester?"

"Well, I got knocked out same as you did...", Nate shrugs.

Looking over at Will he adds

"Speedy Gonzalez here was conscious through it all, though."

[brilyn]

"I'm doing ok...you? What happened at Westchester?"

Derek raises an eyebrow.

"You brought the teragen to a face-off with Project Utopia, and it all went to shit. Don't you remember?"

[ezekiel]

Derek raises an eyebrow.

"You brought the teragen to a face-off with Project Utopia, and it all went to shit. Don't you remember?"

Terry frowns at Derek

"That's not quite as I remember it, no. I came alone and was attacked by Bernal when I asked him to back down. Pathfinder told me what happened afterward but I'd like to hear your side of it as well..."

[Ayre el KaBeer]

Pathfinder told me what happened afterward but I'd like to hear your side of it as well...

Sighing and begins rambling "Ok, what happened was we were told to delay Project Eutopia, then you turned up, got laid out. Me and Derek were left to spar with Tean Tomorrow trying to keep them out, that's when Pathfinders bunch turned up and then the killing started! ::angry Sh!t!" Will finishes almost gasping for air.

"If the Teragen didn't turn up then noone would have died, Terry! It was a tough fight but we weren't trying to KILL eachother! John didn't have to get taken away for killing a god-damned hero! Firefly didn't have to get the life crushed out of her by Eel! And that piece of shit Matador didn't have to cover half a f*cking achre, when I F*CKING THREW HIM INTO GLACIER!!! F*CK!..." Will barely manages to restrain himself, the pressures of the past weeks have clearly taken their toll on the young speedster and it looks to be a real trial for Will to stand there in silence.

[ezekiel]

Sighing and begins rambling "Ok, what happened was we were told to delay Project Eutopia, then you turned up, got laid out. Me and Derek were left to spar with Tean Tomorrow trying to keep them out, that's when Pathfinders bunch turned up and then the killing started!  Sh!t!" Will finishes almost gasping for air.

"If the Teragen didn't turn up then noone would have died, Terry! It was a tough fight but we weren't trying to KILL eachother! John didn't have to get taken away for killing a god-damned hero! Firefly didn't have to get the life crushed out of her by Eel! And that piece of shit Matador didn't have to cover half a f*cking achre, when I F*CKING THREW HIM INTO GLACIER!!! F*CK!..." Will barely manages to restrain himself, the pressures of the past weeks have clearly taken their toll on the young speedster and it looks to be a real trial for Will to stand there in silence.

Terry furrows his brows

"You're blaming me?! What the hell is so important that warrants a fight with T2M in the first place? I came alone to help you. To make sure my friends had all the help they could get. The Teragen only showed up because I was taken out and Pathfinder did all she could to save me. I would've done the same for any of you!"

Terry shakes his head

"Its easy to lay all the blame on the Teragen now that you're not all in some Utopia prison. Tell me...did you really have the situation in control? Blaze knocked out...Bernal insisting to get in...Would you have been able to stop them? Glacier singehandedly took out Ricardo despite all of your attempts to stop him. He can't control himself, especially when friends are down. He didn't need any help to kill anyone..."

Terry eyes the group

"Don't you think I'm as aghast by all of this as you are? I keep thinking of how I've managed to stop Glacier's killing sprees before, that had I not been knocked out things could've turned out completely different. I keep wondering...what the hell was Ricardo thinking? Why the hell did he attack me? What was so important that he'd risk his team's lives over?...Do any of you know?"

[Prince of Boredom]

<Terry's rant>

"Hey guys, let's all calm down. I realize I'm new to the family, but I don't think anyone is gonna be served by us arguing. Now, to get the record straight, I think it's true to say that had Terry's friends not showed up, none of the T2M folks would've been killed. As far as the rest of us go, I'm not too sure. Can we blame Terry for the actions of said friends? Well, Terry, you lie in the bed you make, so you probably had a decent idea what would've happened if you were injured. At the end of the day though, they clearly did it for, at least partially, altruistic reasons... saving Terry. Yes, T2M'ers died, but let's not forget that they made the decision to attempt to invade private property of their own accord. They accepted that risk.

As far as what we were protecting? Now Terry you know that even if we did know, we couldn't tell you, not to mention your friend could probably pull it from our heads anyway.

Look, regardless of what Mr. Masters thinks, I think we can all agree that we know you're a good guy at heart, and that you have made your current alliances because you feel you're doing the right thing. So why don't you tell us why that is..."

[Ayre el KaBeer]

"You're blaming me?! What the hell is so important that warrants a fight with T2M in the first place? I came alone to help you. To make sure my friends had all the help they could get. The Teragen only showed up because I was taken out and Pathfinder did all she could to save me. I would've done the same for any of you!"

"Damnit I'm not blaming you, I'm blaming the Teragen! Everytime they show up people die! And no matter what you think, the sole purpose of some if not all of those who came to 'help' was to kill the members of team tomorrow. You didn't hear Eel's joy at when Montoya Burnal was killed! You didn't hear her pride that she'd killed Firefly, or the disgust Matador had that it wasn't him that had taken down Montoya Burnal himself. They were there to put T2M between a rock and a hard place, we were that hardplace, they used us to score an easy win, and that makes me sick to my stomach!". Will just shakes his head and lets Terry finish.

[brilyn]

Derek looks on, face impassive.

"Two things. First off, T2M didn't attack until a 3rd party showed up. It's that simple."

Derek sighs, and looks at his feet.

After a moment's pause, Interface looks Terry in the eye: "Secondly, Glacier didn't 'single-handedly' kill Montoya-Burnal. That was mainly my doing. And no, I'm not prepared to discuss it further, not right now."

[ezekiel]

Hey guys, let's all calm down. I realize I'm new to the family, but I don't think anyone is gonna be served by us arguing. Now, to get the record straight, I think it's true to say that had Terry's friends not showed up, none of the T2M folks would've been killed. As far as the rest of us go, I'm not too sure. Can we blame Terry for the actions of said friends? Well, Terry, you lie in the bed you make, so you probably had a decent idea what would've happened if you were injured. At the end of the day though, they clearly did it for, at least partially, altruistic reasons... saving Terry. Yes, T2M'ers died, but let's not forget that they made the decision to attempt to invade private property of their own accord. They accepted that risk.

"Two things. First off, T2M didn't attack until a 3rd party showed up. It's that simple."

"I don't think it's nearly so clear as you make it out. If T2M didn't attack before it's only because they'd just arrived."

"Damnit I'm not blaming you, I'm blaming the Teragen! Everytime they show up people die! And no matter what you think, the sole purpose of some if not all of those who came to 'help' was to kill the members of team tomorrow. You didn't hear Eel's joy at when Montoya Burnal was killed! You didn't hear her pride that she'd killed Firefly, or the disgust Matador had that it wasn't him that had taken down Montoya Burnal himself. They were there to put T2M between a rock and a hard place, we were that hardplace, they used us to score an easy win, and that makes me sick to my stomach!". Will just shakes his head and lets Terry finish.

"Let's make one thing clear...I'm not a Teragen member and I've never met any teragen member other than Pathfinder. I don't know what Eel's problem is but I'm pretty sure the Teragen don't condone the killing of any Nova, even T2M novas..."

After a moment's pause, Interface looks Terry in the eye: "Secondly, Glacier didn't 'single-handedly' kill Montoya-Burnal. That was mainly my doing. And no, I'm not prepared to discuss it further, not right now."

Terry becomes quiet for an instant...then addresses Derek

"Then maybe you should think upon John's plight right now...Bahrain is no club med."

[brilyn]

If T2M didn't attack before it's only because they'd just arrived.

Derek frowns at this.

"Then maybe you should think upon John's plight right now...Bahrain is no club med."

Obviously angry: "No shit...." ::angry

"Let's run through the blame game just once, then I'd like you to get to the point.

"T2M were talking. There were discussions. You appeared uninvited, and unrequested, with Pathfinder. Both of you are considered terrorists by certain 'legitimate' authorities in the world. You then threatened T2M with Teragen interference.

"In direct reponse to that, T2M attacked. ::angry

"The situation was tense, but controlled prior to your arrival. Your arrival, and subsequent threatening of T2M pushed it into open conflict."

Derek has gone pale, and is shaking from fury. ::angry

"We all are responsible for what occured that day, to a greater or lesser degree. Now suck it up, and accept your end of it."

Derek shakes his head, visibly trying to calm himself.

"Now, you wanted to meet. What do you want?"

[ezekiel]

Obviously angry: "No shit...." 

"Let's run through the blame game just once, then I'd like you to get to the point.

"T2M were talking. There were discussions. You appeared uninvited, and unrequested, with Pathfinder. Both of you are considered terrorists by certain 'legitimate' authorities in the world. You then threatened T2M with Teragen interference.

"In direct reponse to that, T2M attacked. 

"The situation was tense, but controlled prior to your arrival. Your arrival, and subsequent threatening of T2M pushed it into open conflict."

Derek has gone pale, and is shaking from fury. 

"We all are responsible for what occured that day, to a greater or lesser degree. Now suck it up, and accept your end of it."

Derek shakes his head, visibly trying to calm himself.

"Now, you wanted to meet. What do you want?"

Terry breaths in deeply and slowly lets it out. He looks around and sits on a moss covered log, looking at the the thick canopy overhead.

"At least we've gone from the Teragen and I killed T2M to we all are responsible. I'm not blaming anyone and I'm not trying to avoid blame. And there is no point Derek, I didn't call this meeting. Nate called me and said you all wanted to see me. This was supposed to be just a friendly discussion. I assumed because you all wanted to know about me and Pathfinder and whether I'd sworn fealty to the Count or something."

Look, regardless of what Mr. Masters thinks, I think we can all agree that we know you're a good guy at heart, and that you have made your current alliances because you feel you're doing the right thing. So why don't you tell us why that is..."

"Can you really?"

Terry shakes his head and looks at his metallic friend(?)

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said about John, you didn't deserve that."

He then eyes everyone

"If any of you want to go home now just tell me, I'll open a gate to wherever you want to go."

[Asbjørn]

"At least we've gone from the Teragen and I killed T2M to we all are responsible. I'm not blaming anyone and I'm not trying to avoid blame. And there is no point Derek, I didn't call this meeting. Nate called me and said you all wanted to see me. This was supposed to be just a friendly discussion. I assumed because you all wanted to know about me and Pathfinder and whether I'd sworn fealty to the Count or something."

"Well...", Nate's voice is a calm contrast to the arguing. "Have you...?" ::wink

He raises a hand to stop an eventual answer.

"Just kidding, Terry. I don't think you've gone that far. But I do want to know what the hell you're up to these days."

He looks around at the others - well aware that people skills never were his strong side - and adds

"Ok, guys. There's no doubt that Eel and the other terats adding themselves to the mix turned the heat up a bit, but it would have ended in violence anyway. When Terry arrived I was down to just one option to keep Bernal out. I was seconds away from hitting, even if that wouldn't have done any good. We were getting nowhere."

He looks both Will and Derek in the eyes, trying to show his understanding through the never fading glare from his eyes

"Look, I didn't kill anyone that day. And I can't say anything else than that I'm glad I didn't. But I still think that I know how that makes you guys feel. I can't remember the last time I was as scared as when I was this close to blowing Glacier's head off. It's a stroke of luck that John didn't end up among the casualties as well... My point is: It went bad, and the big shitstorm started when the Terats attacked."

Producing a cigarette fom his pocket and lighting it he turns to Terry and smiles.

"But you're right, Terry. This was supposed to be a friendly chat. I know you're a good guy, and I like you. Even if you do get a little cocky from time to time... Which brings me back to the beginning. What the hell are you doing? Why share your bed with someone who wants Masters dead? I hate to get into the old 'sleeping with the enemy'-cliché, but you are! Pathfinder and her pals have tried to kill us, they've kidnapped and tortured an innocent teenager, and all because of some ****ed up belief that we're more worth than 'normal' humans? I don't get it, Terry. I just don't." ::confused

Nathan sits back on a log and looks at Terry in silence.

[brilyn]

Derek looks on in silence. ::angry