Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Van Leugen: The Nashtons

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai and Calcos

Mark stood behind the counter of his deli, newspaper in hand with his eyes on the sports section. He was an older man, kind of chubby and with a thick mustache. The deli had a few people inside eating, including a few members of the Hammer & Star Bratva. They had decided to remain in Van Leugen after taking out the Yakuza.

They took every opportunity to expand in the city, taking out or absorbing their competition.

Yves had a different plan for the newcomers to his city. One that benefited himself and his protégé, Suki. Yves stepped into the deli, Suki and two Skull Society heavies in tow.

"Yves! How are you?" Mark asked, putting his paper down to speak to the gangster as he approached the counter. "Samedi is unhappy with you." Yves told the man, turning his head slightly to barely glance at the seated Bratva members.

"And your new friends. But, we can reach an understanding. You keep paying us, but double what you used to, and you make it clear that you do business with only us." He continued, "Or we do things the normal way." He added, putting his palm down on the counter.

"Yves, I'm sorry-..." Yves nearly dived over the counter as he lunged for Mark and took him by the throat. The Russian gangsters stood quickly, ready to fight. That was until Suki pulled her revolver and aimed it at the men.

"We don't need you. You need us to keep this city from swallowing you whole. You are a small fish, we are sharks." Yves told Mark, "Do you understand?" He asked, Mark nodding once in response. Yves let the man go, turning towards the Bratva gangsters.

"Leave. If we see you or your friends again, I will kill you." He threatened, the gangsters reluctantly making their way to the door, Suki and the others following behind them.

Yves was making a statement, Van Leugen belonged to the Skull Society.

____

The Society enforcers watched as the Russians exited the premises, hands tight on the grips of their M16s, ready to open fire at the first sign of trouble. Thankfully enough, the bastards had enough sense in them to make a quiet exit and disappear into the night. As they vacated the deli, the enforcers joked amongst themselves how badly Mark must've pissed his pants with Yves' hand around his throat. One of the men looked to the lieutenant. "What next, boss?" he asked.

Outside, in a well-hidden vehicle that looked like some sort of prototype race car, the Blue Mantis scouted out the scene. He had been making patrols, and decided to make a stop by the deli to check up on the Russians; he couldn't have expected the Skull Society to make an appearance tonight. He recognized Yves, as well as the two mooks he had in tow with him. However, he didn't recognize the girl standing with them, revolver in hand.

Unable to hear the words that had been exchanged, he didn't know the nature of the confrontation that had just gone down. However, he was quite certain he could piece it together himself, seeing the Russians flee their own territory. He'd be stupid to get out and ask questions right now, but he felt he'd need to keep a closer eye on Yves and the Society. If Samedi was up to something, he'd have to put an end to it before things got out of control.

____

"Business as usual. But, we keep our guard up. New faces wish to take what is our right. New faces that Rebecca here knows well." Yves said, nodding towards Suki before looking back at Mark. He stared daggers at the man, but it wasn't a threatening stare. Yves almost seemed disappointed.

"We're closed." Yves told the man, Mark nearly tripping over his own feet to head to the exit and lock the door. Suki couldn't help but chuckle at the man. Everyone feared Yves if they weren't part of the Society far as she could tell.

"They have allies. We need our own, eh?" Suki asked. Yves nodded, looking between the young woman and the other men.

"Who do we know?" Yves asked.

____

"Well," one of the enforcers began, "There's the 3B, that upstart Yakuza chapter Samedi ain't happy with, several other small families across 'Leugen trying to win Samedi's favor..." He trailed off, thinking to himself a moment or two. "Some crooked cops and judges, lawyers, Old Lady Trenton -she's doing great by the way, after kicking the smack." He chuckled at his own dumb joke.

"That's about all I know."

____

"Reach out to them, let them all know war is coming. They can endear themselves to Samedi and the Society by striking our enemies where it hurts." Yves said, "Rebecca, reach out to your old Yakuza and their allies. We can help them if they help us." He told Suki.

"We can help Mr. Machida get his revenge." Yves promised, knowing that Samedi could indeed make it happen. He and his Skull Society were influential in Van Leugen. They could lure the hitman, Bachmann, into a trap.

All it takes is the promise of money and killing.

"See who else has a beef with the Russians in other cities. I know they have reach. Let's weaken them, hurt them." He ordered, "As soon as possible."

____

The enforcers nodded, filing out as they were dismissed, setting out to make important phone calls to equally-important contacts. It was the first step to starting the conflagration of warfare, and they would go to any lengths necessary to grind their enemies into the dirt and erase their names from any references of importance.

As Yves had said, all it took was a little convincing on their part.

Across the street, the Mantis had activated a microphone implanted into his car, listening as the enforcers cleared out, chatting amongst themselves as they strolled down the sidewalks into the perpetual midnight of Van Leugen. "...war. It's been a long time since we've had a good war," one of them said. His associate nodded, keeping his eyes forward. That statement caused the Mantis' eyes to widen. 'War? What's Samedi planning now?,' he thought.

He couldn't dwell here, and attempting to assault the Society brutes in the open night air was ill-advised while they had numbers to their advantage; that was a task best suited to dark, enclosed spaces with lots of cover. He would wait another night, and would be sure to prod around the underworld for any inkling of information he could utilize to his benefit. The restlessness of having to wait, however, was enough to get under his skin.

With a weighted sigh, he drove off into the night, leaving the deli -and a massive lead into a new case- behind him.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Calcos

The drizzle fell in tandem with a light breeze, falling sidelong like crystals under a pale moonlight. Police cruiser headlights illuminated the rather grisly scene, as another squad car's own blue lights shone brightly into the night as officers directed nighttime traffic away from the immediate area. It was the graveyard shift, and none of them wanted to be there.

A pair of the officers looked down at the horrific sight before them; a bloodied corpse bearing several lacerations and missing the left ring finger. The victim had been identified as one Henry Cavendish; one of Van Leugen's own elite socialites. He was an aged man at sixty-four, and his death was actually rather surprising to the officers on scene.

On of the men had already called dispatch, and CID was supposed to be on their way shortly. The two kept watch, looking into the night for any clues they could find to give the detectives a head start, shining their flashlights all about so as to attain better visibility.

For the moment, though, all they could do was wait.


From the rooftops, he looked down on the scene. He recognized the body, of course; old Henry had been an associate of James Knight's father, years ago. It wouldn't do him any good to try and enter the scene himself, being that his kind weren't very well tolerated as per the new mayor's directives.

Still, he figured he could access the police department's records concerning this case later on and acquire the initial information they would compile. As of yet, he could only linger for a few more moments before he had to disappear into the night.

He had other places to be...

 

[Tiko]

as written by Calcos and Saarai

Detective Bonita arrived, coming to a steady halt as she applied her brakes generously, having parked a good thirty feet away from the actual crime scene. She approached the police line, where one of the uniformed officers began to hold up a hand before the detective flashed her badge, causing the cop to nod and hoist the yellow tape upward as she ducked under the perimeter.

She approached the pair of officers standing by, casting her gaze to the body. EMT personnel had already arrived, as had the precinct's medical examiner. Once she was done with her investigation, they would take the corpse away to perform the autopsy.

"What do we got?" she asked the officers as she donned a pair of latex gloves. One of them stepped forward, his gloved hand reaching out with the wallet procured from the man's pocket. "Henry Cavendish; CEO of FirmTech and well-known socialite. Aged sixty-four; no known living relatives; no outstanding medical history; arrested on four accounts of public drunkenness, all of which were waived. Probably by a fat stack of cash," he said with a chuckle that Roz didn't return.

She merely looked over the man's wallet. "You moved the body to get to this?" she asked, as if starting to become annoyed. "Guy had it in his hand," the officer said. Roz nodded; an acceptable move.

She handed the wallet back to the officer before striding over to the body, kneeling down to get a better look. She procured a flashlight from her pocket, shining the light over the horrendously disfigured cadaver.

"Multiple lacerations across the body...missing the left ring finger..." she said quickly. "Did anyone notice the coin in his hair?" she said as she leaned over, procuring an unrecognizable silver piece that was hidden in the aged man's rather thick mane. The two cops looked at each other, confused.

"The hell would a coin be doing in his hair?" one of them asked. Roz didn't respond either with words or body language. She merely examined it. One side was decorated with an eagle brandishing a pair of sabers, carrying what appeared to be a torn banner in its beak. The other side merely bore a star surrounded by a wreath, with the words "For God and Bravery" written across the underside. Roz stood, turning to the other officers.

"I'm going to need to get a country of origin for this coin," she said flatly, "And I need it checked for prints."

____

James climbed out of Roz's car, taking his time to look around the area before following her. He was silent as she spoke to the officers, making his way towards the dead body to get a better look.

"Robbery gone wrong?" James asked, but he shook his head at the discovery of the coin

"A hit? Could be the assassin's calling card." He said to Roz, "Or an initiation. Different gangs, mobs, cults, they tend to have some sort of ritual." James explained to the officers.

"He's too cut up for it to be anything random, and too known."

____

Roz nodded, agreeing with her new partner. "What strikes me is the severed finger. The victim had his wallet in hand, presumably under the impression that his attacking was a robbery, but the attacker left it behind, yet took the ring finger. Why? A trophy, maybe?" She pondered a moment, looking over the body several times.

"Cavendish was married; his wife lost her battle with lung cancer five years and three months ago. Since her death, and even before then, Cavendish has been known to keep multiple mistresses. Not even a week after his wife's death, he stopped wearing his wedding band..."

She shifted her gaze to the other officers and James. "This particular killing is pretty barbaric; no precision at all with the lacerations. They're much too choppy, to asymmetric. And a cult seems out of the question, as this doesn't look like a ritualistic sacrifice. The coin could be a calling card, or a warning."

She looked down at the body again, the bloody, carved frame of the aged man pale and decrepit under the night sky. Roz shook her head, thinking about how this particular killing had been a bit overdue; Cavendish had plenty of enemies in the political world.

And now, he had nothing.

____

"One of his many jilted lovers?" James asked, kneeling down beside Cavendish. He looked over the bloody mess that barely resembled what it used to be.

"I mean, this is brutal. Unnecessarily so. This is very personal and I'm gonna assume we've got a long list of suspects." The detective said, letting out a stressed sigh.

"Let's start at the top of it."

____

Roz shook her head. "It's unlikely; the women I've seen him with don't look like they'd be physically able to do something like this. Still, we can't rule it out."

She walked away from the body, motioning for James to follow her. She came to rest in front of where the medical examiner was standing. "Contact me as soon as you find anything useful," she said curtly before walking back to her car. She turned to James as they clambered in.

"We're going back to the station. We've got a lot of people to find."

____

"I could go down the list of women in his life. See if he's ruined any happy homes." James said to Roz, "Sometimes in my old unit we had to deal with cases involving a mistress' husband going after her lover." He told her.

"Jealousy can lead people to kill."

 

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai and Krysis

"Target spotted." Adam said, into his phone as he watched a young man dressed in a black trenchcoat walk the Nashtons. The young man in question was Ariadne Kale's assistant, her bodyguard, her confidant. His name was Lars and he was a ghost.

No one knew a thing about him, where he was from, what he could do. This was the perfect opportunity for the Invictus to find out just what his role was in everything.

Adam stayed close, yet far enough from Lars that he wouldn't raise suspicion.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked, unsure why Lars would be in a place lime the Nashtons. A meeting? A hideout? The only thing in this part of town were homes and a specialized hospital that deal with paralysis.

Perfect place for a terrorist to meet someone. No one would look twice at a hospital for criminals.

____

Minerva had been told that her target would be in a hospital, and that his name was Lars. She further knew he was a member of Invictus, and getting a look at his file wasn't exactly difficult for the dust mage. Bio-metric locks might have defeated her from direct routes, but nothing less than that could stop her from walking into any room. Even if the records were behind such a lock, air, therefore dust, could always find a way. Well. Almost always.

The file had given her enough information, even if it was just a picture or a physical description and a name, for her to spot Lars. Even if that had proved insufficient, there were other ways to pick him out of a crowd. Such as the presence of anything that was issued by the Invictus, which had unique mineral composition, since most of it was certainly not made in Terra. Or traces of other Invictus members, which she could also recognize, though it usually took her a moment longer. The presence of Adam and the direction of that man's attention was like a laser pointer though, and Minerva was pretty sure she had the right guy.

She had been posing as a janitor, hanging around outside on a smoke break. For authenticity, she had even copied the appearance of an actual janitor employed at the hospital, who was, judging from the tobacco ash in his clothes, really a smoker. Sometimes 'he' went inside and cleaned things, mopping up spills or wiping up dusty surfaces, but 'he' always made sure to be near the busiest entrances. 'He' had been working like that ever since about two hours after Sabine had set Minerva on this task.

The logic was this: If she had been restricted to one face, like most were, she would have picked the busiest entrance to enter at, in order to blend in with a crowd. She might have even brought a stuffed animal or a bouquet, so no one would look twice at a 'visitor', though sometimes that backfired and a helpful soul would attempt to give directions. Minnie had lots of experience with hospitals, after all, though the one she frequented most often was on an entirely different planet.

____

Lars glanced at the 'janitor' as he entered the hospital, the receptionist at the desk in front of him waving. She was a young woman, a blonde probably around Lars' age. And clearly infatuated with him.

"Hey, Lars. Right on schedule." She said to him, "Always, Abby." Lars said to the woman, "She's waiting for you in the garden." Abby told Lars, "Thank you." Lars said with a slight, somewhat forced, smile.

Adam wasn't far behind when Lars walked away from the receptionist's desk, subtly checking the pistol concealed by his jacket to make sure it was ready for whatever.

"Perfect place for a meeting." He said to himself as he continued on behind Lars. Keeping an eye on him was easy, now Adam just needed some audio. Maybe some video of Lars in the act.

So far all he, and the other eyes on Lars, had so far was a visit to the hospital.

That was until Lars found a door leading out to the garden. The point of his meeting.

The moment of truth.

____

The janitor had stubbed out his cigarette as Lars approached and then even held the door for him, so it wasn't surprising that the older man followed the young man in the coat inside. With a phelgmy cough and a hitch at the belt that was sliding down his sagging middle, the man in coveralls leaned on the handle of his cart full of cleaning supplies as he followed Lars down the hall, seemingly by happenstance.

Adam soon passed the janitor, but Minerva knew how to be patient. That was another reason she had posed as a janitor, to be able to learn the layout of the hospital. So 'he' would know if there was another entrance to the garden close by, or if she would have to do some tricky things in order to eavesdrop.

____

Adam waited a few long seconds at the door after Lars stepped through it, wanting to make it seem as if he was just another person hanging out in the garden. Maybe to smoke, maybe to pass the time.

Definitely not to spy on Lars.

Adam calmly and nonchalantly exited the door into the garden, eyes quickly finding Lars and the woman he was meeting. Adam figured it would be Ariadne.

It wasn't.

There seated next to Lars, who sat on a bench, was a young woman in a wheelchair. Lars held her hand firmly, revealing himself to be capable of smiling. At least in the woman's presence.

Adam took the time to get closer, to hear what Lars was saying.

"Ingrid, it's almost over. I have the money now, I just have one more thing to do." Lars said to the woman, "Why do you keep working for her, Lasse? She's a bad person. We knew that a long time ago. Why not run away?" Ingrid asked.

Lars pointed at Ingrid with his free hand, "You. I can't leave you alone, Ingrid." Lars told her, "I'm not alone, Lasse. Thanks to the doctors here, I can leave soon. Go to school, or work, have a life. You could have one too."

Lars fell silent, the brief pause in the conversation giving Adam time to process what he was hearing. Who was the woman in the wheelchair?

____

Well that was not what Minnie expected. She had popped open a window with the excuse of cleaning off the fingerprints near the latch, and leaning through the opening had heard about half of the exchange between 'Lasse' and Ingrid. The man seemed rather young to be married, so the 'janitor' assumed that Ingrid was a family member.

It was unlikely that the woman had been born with a disability, since they seemed to be so broken up about it, so accidental seemed more likely. Now who might he be working for that was such a 'bad person'? The janitor spent more time cleaning than necessary as Minerva thought about this question, still listening to Lars and his companion. Later, Minnie would pay a visit to the records office of the hospital, to find out more details about Ingrid, but for now, it was more important to see what else might be slipped.

____

"Okay." Lars said, nodding a few times. "Once I finish this, I'm leaving. My debt to her repaid, and then we can find a home somewhere. Get you surgery so that you could walk again. It's very expensive to replace anything, but I should have enough money to replace something."

Adam inched closer and closer, keeping his attention on the flowers and plants around him as not to arouse suspicion.

"I'm going to head back to my hotel, Ingrid. I'll be by to visit in a few days and I'll be done with her for good." He said, standing up. "Adjö, Lasse." Ingrid said with a smile, "Adjö, Ingrid." Lars responded, leaning over to plant a kiss on Ingrid's forehead before he turned to leave the garden.

Again, Adam waited before following. He watched Ingrid for a moment, a nurse approaching the young woman to wheel her away.

It was time to get eyes back on Lars. The young man was standing at an elevator when Adam entered the hallway, Adam approaching the elevator to 'wait' with him.

____

Minerva watched Ingrid being wheeled away, confirming in her mind that she would be reading the woman's file later. It was time for a change of face. The janitor would never emerge from the room with the now clean windows. His cart would remain until morning, when the real janitor came in to look for it.

Instead, a tall blonde woman in a navy blue skirt suit stepped into the hall, smoothing her hands over her hips. Her high heels clacked on the floor as she hurried towards the elevators, her clipboard flapping as the doors slid open for the two males and she started to run.

"Shit-shit-shit! Oh, whew, made it!" She gasped as she caught up to them and slid into the elevator with a winning smile, just as the doors started to close. She looked a little older than them, and seemed like she might be the sort of inept administrator that keeps getting promoted because no one wanted to deal with her.

She'd reach for the buttons, and then let her hand fall away when she saw which one was lit. Since it was actually Minerva in disguise, she was actually given a non-verbal excuse for why she would be getting off on the same floor as Lars.

____

What was natural in a situation like this? What was natural about being in an elevator with a possible terrorist and a civilian? Small talk. Small talk made things awkward, and awkward was natural.

"I heard the Gothics lost their last game." Adam said to Lars, "You two follow sports at all?" He asked, "I haven't had the time these days." Lars responded, eyes moving upwards to watch the floors change. They were going lower, down into the underground parking garage.

"Work? You work here?" Adam asked, "You look a little young to be a doctor." He continued, "He one of your murses? Like a male nurse?" He asked the woman.

____

Minnie had been reading her clipboard and making little tick marks on the side. Not that the notations actually meant anything.

She blinked and looked up at Adam when he addressed her, "Huh? Oh. No? I don't think so. It isn't like I know every one-- Wait, aren't you Abby's new crush?" She asked, looking at Lars with a friendly smile, tilting her head a little as if to get a better look at his face.

"She's a sweet girl, but I wouldn't take it too seriously. I think she falls in and out of love easily, but it makes for entertaining gossip." The blonde woman shrugged a bit and would start fumbling for her keys as the elevator slows for the floor Lars had picked.

____

"I don't have much room for that in my life, unfortunately." Lars said, "Maybe one day." He added as the elevator came to a stop. Lars was about to step off first, until he remembered his manners.

"After you." He said to the woman, putting a hand out to hold the elevator doors once they slid open. "My car can wait a few extra seconds." Lars told her.

____

The blonde flashed a smile at Lars and brushed against his arm as she stepped past him into the parking garage, seemingly by accident. "Thanks, hun. Try to let Abby down easy, if you can?" She offered in parting before she was making her way towards the parking spaces reserved for employees.

A small glob of black would be left behind, clinging to Lars' sleeve. It was simply a means to track him, since that particular mineral was not to be found anywhere else in the city. As it was not a conventional means, with no batteries or radioactive signature, it was likely to be dismissed as a glob of particularly persistence dirt.

If she had to, Minnie would even steal a car to make sure she was not spotted, though she was expecting the elevator ride to have been a ruse entirely. She suspected that Lars was merely waiting for the civilian to get out of the way in order to deal with Adam. As it was, even she was ready to strangle the less competent spy. Lingering nearby with nothing to do? Following him into the elevator? Amateurish was too kind a way to describe it.

____

"You made it too easy." Lars said to Adam. Minerva was right, Lars knew that Adam was spying on him. But, he knew awhile ago. Lars still needed to see his sister, so he waited until after the visit.

"They should have at least sent someone who didn't look out of place." Lars said as the elevator doors closed, "Don't look enough like a civilian, do I?" Adam asked.

There was a brief silence, it came to a quick end when both Adam and Lars drew their weapons. Instinctively they both grabbed each other to keep the other from firing. As they grappled they couldn't help but fire off several shots in their attempts to get lucky hits in on each other.

Adam slammed Lars into the buttons next to the elevator doors, most of them lighting up. The people up in the hospital proper hadn't heard the gunfire just yet.

The elevator began to ascend up to the lobby floor, the two men continuing to struggle for each others weapons. Lars slammed a knee into Adam's kidney. Adam responding with a hard punch to Lars' ribs.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, a man standing wide eyed at what he was seeing.

"I'll take the stairs..." He said, quickly turning to walk away.

Several more shots rang out until the men ran out of ammunition, the hospital breaking out into panic. Gunfire was never a good sign. Especially in a city like Van Leugen.

____

Damn. Neither of them followed her out of the elevator. So either she had to sacrifice her own cover to save the idiot from defeating the purpose of the mission, or pray that the idiot didn't get lucky and kill Lars.

Minerva mulled that over for a few seconds until she heard gunfire. Really? They were Both stupid, apparently.

She went back to the elevator, loosing her disguise in favor of something far more primal. She picked the simplest form, which was just a man-shaped sandstone doll really, which took less than 1% of her concentration even though it was half-again larger than a human. The metal doors were no match for the sand witch, disintegrating at a touch and joining the rest of the sand that she was dumping into the bottom of the elevator shaft as a cushion. A cushion for what? Well, for when she grabbed the various cables that attached elevator to counterweight and dropped the morons with guns back down to her level. The cushion of sand Should be enough to keep them from getting too badly hurt, especially since they had only made it two floors up and someone was leaning on the 'doors open' button.

Hopefully they wouldn't shoot each other in the brief free fall, but if they did, well, they were at a hospital at least and Lars would be easy to follow if he was drugged up.

____

The elevator starting to fall had broken the two men apart, they weren't exactly prepared for that to happen. Nor were they especially prepared for such a gentle landing when it came to hit the bottom of the shaft.

Lars fell out of the elevator into the parking garage, scrambling to his feet to run before Adam could get to him. Adam chased after him, ready for a long chase. But a long chase wasn't what Lars had in mind.

Suddenly the young man stopped, turned and lunged at Adam. The two slammed into each other, Lars holding the man close with one hand as he drew another pistol with the other quickly.

He fired a first shot into Adam's leg, the next three in his abdomen. Adam began to buckle slowly, hands on Lars to stay on his feet. His actions were futile, he had been stupid to get close to a man they knew was dangerous.

Eventually Adam's knees hit the ground, the Invictus operative soon falling onto his back.

Lars began to jog away, needing to leave the scene as soon as possible and to leave Adam to die.

____

Well. That worked out pretty well. Apparently, Lars hadn't even seen her, or at least hadn't registered her as alive. Minerva paused by Adam, still looking like a monster and probably getting shot at for her trouble. She called the bullets back out of his flesh and put calcium caps over the wounds so he wouldn't bleed to dead before anyone could get to him.

Then, leisurely following the trace she had put on Lars' sleeve, she faded away to a cloud of dust to blow out side and into the sky, floating high above him. Mostly she was just making sure he didn't ditch the coat before she had a chance to see where he was going, and keep other pursuit away from the young man. After all, the kid's pain would be for nothing if Lars was too spooked to lead her to who was calling the shots for him.

____

Lars ducked down behind a car as a police officer sprinted through to get to the scene of the gunfire. The place wasn't swarming with NPA or TIB, so Lars figured the guy following him was some sort of criminal or hired.

Ariadne had made a few enemies in the corporate world, and Lars knew about her dealings with criminal organizations. Or maybe it was the law. The Invictus.

Paranoia entered Lars' thoughts, his sister, Ingrid, was in danger if he was in danger.

____

Minerva floated high up so she could keep an eye (sorta) on the whole neighborhood, aware of only a few things really. The general structure of the area, the bits of metal driving around fast, and Lars' general location were the main points of interest. She ended up staying pretty much directly above the hospital, buffeted back and forth by the wind, like a swimmer in the conflicting currents of an ocean.

If Lars seemed to be too panicked to settle down within a few minutes, she would return to the hospital, in order to read up on Ingrid as previously decided. Back in the guise of the blond administrator, she'd have access to whatever she needed, and would probably stop in at Ingrid's room to check the current chart as well, in case the doctors had made any notes that hadn't made it into the permanent file.

If Ingrid was in the room, Minnie would flash her a smile before picking up the chart, but wouldn't start a conversation up on her own.

____

Lars stayed where he was for awhile, the paranoia digging in deeper. Chances were that the law enforcement weren't looking for him, but he wasn't taking any chances. Not now.

Ingrid was watching the news from her room, the hospital was on something of a lockdown while emergency services tried to get things under control.

"This city, this planet, there's always something." She said to the blonde administrator, "I hope it gets better. Van Leugen hasn't really got affected by everything. Not physically, I mean."

____

"Things are about to get worse, actually. There was a shooting this afternoon. Some poor kid that apparently stuck his nose in someone's business." Minnie answers absently. She was familiar enough with medical jargon to be able to sort out the information on the chart, though she only had a vague idea of what Ingrid needed in order to walk again. The sand witch smiled at the patient after a moment, closing the folder and putting it back in the slot it belonged in.

"I hear you had a visitor today. Abby told me. Close friend?" She prompted, as if it meant nothing.

 

[Tiko]

as written by barney_fife

The Nashtons; a ring of suburbs that seemed to guard access to Van Leugen proper. This was one of many crossings for Team Gamma to ford before reaching the rendezvous point. Given that access too and from Valore was cut off with the strange spatial anomalies, the IIA Team had to work with what they had.

Having taken advantage of a nearby IIA equipment cache somewhere in Therrier Paix, Special Agent Thompson was sitting quietly in the lead vehicle, clenching his compact disruptor RCW as his car moved slowly through the crowded streets of Van Leugen.

Directly behind the lead vehicle; an armored black crown victoria with blacked out windows, was a large cargo van, blacked out and armored as well as the lead vehicle. There were three of these black cargo vans, packed to the gills with highly sophisticated Aschen weaponry, explosives, weapons, equipment, power generators, and everything else that the Empire needed to set up shop in Van Leugen.

Behind the last cargo van was a blacked out heavy duty pickup truck, with a blacked out camper shell with a hole carved out in the top. Inside this camper shell was a heavy portable fixed mount Ion cannon.

The engines of this convoy roared as the vehicles moved through the neighborhood, in a single file line in the right lane, they passed through, coming to a stop at an intersection besides the hospital.

In the last cargo truck was the most important cargo, a 1.4 Gigaton yield naquadria bomb that was intended to be deployed somewhere on the planet.

Thompson checked the cargo manifest, a coded anquietas card before he looked up ahead.

"We'll be at the safehouse soon, check your surroundings." He said quietly through his comm link.

Something caught his attention though, his eyes moving towards a large hospital complex across the street adjacent to them. He had heard gunshots, and what few bystanders outside scattering.

There was too much traffic to make a quick escape, and the convoy was boxed in by stalled traffic. Thompson made a snap decision, looking up at the hospital, he opened the door to the crown victoria.

"Go on, I'll meet up at the safehouse, cops will be here soon, I'll draw their attention and open up a window." He checked the charge on his weapon, reached into the car to grab a pair of microfusion cells, and then he started towards the hospital's parking garage.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai, Krysis, and barney_fife

"My brother." Ingrid told the woman, pressing a finger down on the remote to switch the channel to a talk show. "He visits me as much as he can, but he's been working a lot more these days." She continued.

"He feels like it's his fault for my accident. Lars can be very protective." She said. Her 'accident' was clearly more than that according to the file.

She suffered trauma to her back and spine inflicted by both a blunt object and a sharp object. A knife, most likely. The damage to her spine left her paralyzed from the waist down, with intense pain in her back every other day. Rehabilitation had been going as well as it could.

Ingrid was, fortunately, on the waiting list for prosthetic replacements to her damaged spine and reconstructive surgery to restore feeling in her legs.

Her injuries were deliberate.

"That's all going to change soon. I'll be dancing again in no time, and he can finally stop making excuses to date Abby."

____

"The records don't say who did this to you. That's something I really would like to know." Minnie seemed distracted at about that point, staring through a wall. She had been aware of the Aschen equipment, both because it was foreign minerals and because it had been moving, but she hadn't done anything about it. In fact, she would never have done anything about it, except that they had stopped exactly where she was working. This was a big problem, since Minerva knew what a mess the Aschen military tended to make of anything that was remotely covert.

For the moment, she got up and locked the door to Ingrid's room, to keep them from being interrupted. "My apologies, Miss. It seems the shit has reached the gravity horizon of the fan. This building is about to be splattered and probably turned into a heap of rubble in a few hours. I need you to answer my questions, or else I will leave you here. If you are useful to me, I will get you out and to a place where you will be safe, and with your brother."

To prove that she could do exactly what she said, the disguise of the blonde administrator faded away as Minnie moved towards the window, leaving the average height and build of her normal appearance, with shoulder-length brown hair and that doll-perfect face with the too-large eyes. The window would fade away under her touch, along with a good portion of the wall. Interesting elements would be kept, but the rest falls away in a shower of sand.

In the Parking Garage, the only elevator is open, clogged with sand that spills across the pavement. The actual box of the elevator that people usually ride in leaned drunkenly out of the open door too, one corner protruding and the inner doors hanging crooked with the force of gravity. There might be minor structural damage around it as well, though the sand had absorbed most of the impact. Minnie also hadn't done anything to mop up the blood from Adam getting shot, though the young man had been moved by the time Thompson made it into the structure. Only a litter of paramedic debris around the stains remained to show where the shooting had occurred.

____

Once Thompson was inside the parking garage, he paused. There was an elevator, that appeared to be wrecked with sand pouring out from inside. His eyes moved to the bullet holes that perforated some of the carton great within the parking garage. They narrowed as they went down to the various medical accessories or Adam was laying. Somebody had been shot, and it was recent.

Reaching into his coat, his hands clasped around the stock of his type 03 disruptor PDW that was fastened to his vest through a quick connect. Unfastening the quick connect, he let the weapon fall into his grip. His other hand moved towards the power indicator on the weapon, activating the weapon with a shrill wine typical of disruptor weapons of this type, he quickly concealed weapon this time in his hand under his coat. He also activated his personal aegis; A wrist mounted hard light shield generator. A defense which could be activated quickly by making a tight fist and holding up the forearm.

Ready for a fight, he walked towards where Adam was shot, his eyes looking at the blood stains, the bloody footprints, and the various medical devices that surrounded them from the paramedics. His curiosity got the best of him as he looks towards the elevator, and then to the fire escape, a locked door that led to a stairwell that went up in the hospital.

"Proceed to the safe house, I am going to take a look around." Thompson said into his comm link.

His Calm composure was quickly interrupted by shouts coming from the end of the parking lot, a lone armed security guard that was looking for more suspicious activity. Upon spotting the IIA agent messing with his weapon, the security guard raised his pistol, and shouted "freeze, show me your hands!"

Thompson stopped in his tracks, making the move to show his hands, rather he slowly began to turn around. The security guard shouted again. "Stop or I will shoot!"

Thompson then whipped around, activating his wrist mounted shield generator which flashed to life in a brilliant blue color, projecting a large hexagonal barrier of hard light. At that moment the security guard opened fire, discharging his entire magazine at Thompson. Each bullet impacted the brilliant blue hard light shield with eight deafening twang sound. Thompson followed suit, raising his PDW and pulling the trigger. The disruptor weapon unleashed a flurry of brilliant green energy bolts towards the security guard, spraying them. Almost immediately the parking garage filled with the smell of ozone and the smoke from vaporized concrete also filled the room. The security guard did not stand a chance, several dozen disruptor bolts impacted him square on the torso. Sending brilliant plumes of steam, and smoke. The chard, mangled corpse of the security guard fell to the ground. The sharp report of disruptor weapons fire filled the hospital.

"Shit!" Thompson cursed as he moved behind a parked car, concealing himself from view. He took a quick glance outside, the convoy had moved on. It was likely well on the way to the safe house at this point.

Thompson took a quick glance at the fire escape, checking for anybody else in the parking garage, he fired three more shots at the door. Three loud pops, and the door fell from its hinges, with most of it on the floor in a pile of molten slag.

He did not run towards the door, rather he intended for it to be a diversion, the cops into thinking that he had escaped through that door, and was somewhere inside the hospital.

____

"What?" Ingrid asked, "Who are you?" Her hands moved frantically to find something, likely the button to call a nurse to her room. Unfortunately for Ingrid things were once again spiraling out of control. She hadn't heard the disruptor pistol, but she did hear everyone out in the hallways.

"Keep everyone in their rooms." A doctor ordered, "Let the police do their jobs."

That was Lars' plan up until a security guard was shot down not far from him. "Damn it." Lars muttered, dashing from his hiding place over to another car. He peeked inside to look at the locks, if the door was open he'd climb inside and hide.

If gangsters, or whoever, had sent more people, it was best that Lars let them take on the police and forget about him.

____

"Don't ask foolish questions, Ingrid. We don't have time for it. Your brother is downstairs, about to get himself vaporized, unless I save him. You will die also when the building collapses. If you give me the information I want, I will act and save you both. Maybe even the entire hospital. If you do not, everyone dies." Minerva growled at the paralyzed woman with a perfectly blank expression. Mostly her attention was downstairs and the dust mage's fine details slipped again; lines smoothed out and her features became a little more plastic looking instead of the softness of flesh.

Then she gave a sudden sunny smile, snapped back into Ingrid's presence almost fully. "You have the chance to be the hero. I will accept just a promise to tell me all, if it is accompanied by the name of the person that hurt you in the first place, and made you such a perfect pressure point for your brother."

____

Checking his weapon one last time, Thompson then looked out to the exit of the parking garage. Distant sirens echoing in the distance. At that moment, he crept up from where he was hiding, before he weaved through several parked cars, before he pulled his trench coat aside, and concealed his weapon once more.

As the police sirens drew closer, Thompson made his way towards the exit of the parking garage, he would need to make an escape, and fast.

____

"It doesn't matter. Leave us alone!" Ingrid yelled at Minerva, "You want to be a hero, but you're threatening innocent people. Go away, freak." She said to Minerva, leaning over to grab her nearby wheelchair.

"Help!" She screamed, "Someone help!"

The first person to usually show up would have been Lars, but he was busy trying to figure out what was going on. Police officers began to flood the parking garage, bringing tactical units with them. What started as just a shooting was becoming more.

A multiple gunman situation, a dead security guard, property damage, and the sand in the elevator implied that the supernatural was involved.

Things were escalating more than they needed to, and Lars was going to stay out of it.

He wasn't an idiot.

____

Minerva stared at Ingrid, then gave an abrupt laugh without changing her expression. "No one is going to be able to help you, idiot. I'll tell you a secret; I am not the hero, I'm the witch."

The sand witch reached over to touch the door again, sealing it with the wall so that there would have to be actual destruction to get it open, then she'd step out of the hole opened where the window used to be, letting herself fall. Ingrid had forfeited any particular protection she might have received by failing to follow simple instructions.

It was easy for Minnie to follow the signature of the Aschen weapon, flying at Thompson as a swarm of small stones and sand and reforming as a human-sized figure when she reached him. Being shot would be annoying, so when she reformed, she did a hand first and reached for his wrist to keep him from getting the weapon pointed at her.

She hissed near his ear the code word "Flash" that she had been given, letting go quickly if he wasn't ready to shoot her anymore. "We need to talk about your lack of discretion."

____

Thompson did not have much time to react as the creature made from sand and stone approached him. He raised his weapon, and tensed up only to find the creature knocking the weapon away, so that he could not fire.

Thompson's freehand immediately went to an anti-magic grenade attached to his belt, before the creature has the word "flash". Thompson quickly relaxed, and Directed his eyes at the at the figure before him.

"I was just about to take my leave." He said, still clenching the antimana grenade. "I don't know what special projects has planned for this place, but I need to ex filtrate." He said.

"If you want to do talk about discretion, send a courier, I'm not telling you anything else."

____

Lars began to hotwire the car he hid himself in, peeking up enough to see several police officers hiding behind a corner. They were ready to sneak up on Thompson and Minerva.

They didn't know if either one were the gunman or just civilians, but one could never be too careful.

"Go." Lars whispered, needing the police to move in on the others so he could finish hotwiring the car in peace. When the police officers began to move up, Lars pressed two wires together.

The car's engine roared to life, Lars placing it in neutral and pressing lightly on the gas. The vehicle began to creep forward, Lars opening the passenger door and getting out to creep alongside the vehicle.

The car was cover and a distraction. Several of the officers fell for it, the rest continued moving in on Thompson and Minerva.

"Freeze! Raise your hands above your heads where I can see them."

____

"Then get out of here." Minerva instructed as she turned towards the cops and raised her hands obediently. Then she gave a jerking motion that was mirrored by a sloping sheet of stone that would shield both her and Thompson, at least for a few bullet impacts. At the same time, a weight, about ten pounds, would fill one of Thompson's pockets as the woman that had apparently helped him collapsed into a heap of sand and dissolved.

For the moment, Lars was less important than stopping that bomb. Aschens were So difficult to work with. If they hadn't managed to get such an important token in the game, Minerva would have taken a completely different approach to dealing with them.

____

The agent scowled visibly as Minerva stood up and raised her hands. The sloping stone bought him just enough time to activate his personal aegis, the shimmering hard light shield flashing to life as Thompson strafed towards a pair of cars, showering the cops with brilliant green disruptor bolts. Each impact, be it officer of car door emitted a bright flash and a plume of smoke and ozone from vaporized materials, obscuring the police officers vision and hoping to suppress them into cover.

Thompson fired and advanced, a burst of disruptor bolts as he bobbed and weaved between cars, bullets impacting on his personal aegis with audible twangs, two warning beeps signaling the shield was becoming stressed from multiple bullet hits.

Under cover again, as the cops closed in, Thompson pushed the eject, the disruptor rifle made a metallic ping noise as the white hot cell flew from inside the rifle, landing on the concrete floor.

Thompson quickly heaved a plasma grenade in the direction of the officers, before he disengaged his personal aegis long enough to reload his weapon, an audible clack and high pitched whine later, Thompson lunged forward.

The plasma grenade arced broadly, before detonating in a powerful concussive shock and bloom of blue superheated plasma that would kill any officer unfortunate enough to be within six meters of the grenade. Nearby cars were also scorched. Thompson re-engaged his aegis, and ran quickly, despite the weight towards a small manhole grate, slipping into the sewers under the poor visibility and choking ozone fumes that now filled the parking garage.

____

Lars took the police returning fire on the gunman as a sign that he had to leave quickly. He made a dash towards a door leading out of the garage, a staircase leading up to the hospital proper. Lars made his way up the stairs, avoiding the first floor in case more police officers were using it.

He could hear some of them growing closer, their gear heavier than what the beat cops were wearing. They were coming to pacify, or eliminate, the gunman.

The cops already exchanging fire with Thompson took cover, two of them dropping as they tried to run.

"Officers down! We're dealing with one armed suspect in the lowest level of the parking garage."

____

"Idiot." Minerva thought in Thompson's pocket, trying to rest after her exertions of the past few days. It seemed that her labors were not quite done though.

Once in the relative quiet of the sewers, she reformed and glared at the Aschen operative. "Do they lobotomize people before letting them become soldiers, or agents, or whatever your title is?! I swear I have Never met a single Aschen official of any sort with any sense at all! When I gave you the shield and distraction, you could have just Walked away while their attention was on me. But Nooooo, you had to kill cops. They are going to be panting for your death now."

Then she groaned and rubbed her forehead tiredly, easily keeping up with Thompson, even if he was trying to walk away from her. "You know who the primary target is, of course? I am following leads to her location. Those leads are in this city. As such, you can Not set off the bomb I know you have without acting counter to the interests of the Empire."

She further explained, reaching over to poke the man at about shoulder height, on whichever side is facing her. "That means my orders are to stop you by any means necessary. I'd prefer the necessary means be this conversation, because anything more would require that I go make a report and I don't have that kind of time or energy to spare."

____

Thompson was clearly annoyed, and eventually, as he snapped the fastener of his PDW back to his vest, and pulled his coat over he stopped and turned to Minnie.

"I don't know who special projects has you tracking, or what your orders are." He said, straightening his coat.

"But our orders are simple; kill as many people in the shortest amount of time as possible, and destabilize the Terran National Government to the point of collapse. So threatening to make a report because I'm carrying out my orders isn't going to get you any favors." Thompson said.

He shook his head a moment, then he frowned. I believe you're supposed to find whoever's running the invictus and eliminate them; we have two different objectives. In case you didn't get the memo, the Emperor himself wants to see this world burn."

He paused a moment to look up, the commotion of police officers echoing above him. His objective was accomplished.

"I need to get back to the safehouse."

____

Minerva stared at Thompson for a moment, then didn't bother to explain his misunderstanding. It wasn't like she intended to follow orders and report it like she was supposed to when she had to kill an Aschen citizen.

"Don't you think there is a higher authority? If the Emperor is acting counter to the best interests of the Empire-- Oh, why bother? Brainless and brain washed, you couldn't understand me if you even wanted to try." She faked a stumble, falling towards Thompson so he wouldn't be surprised when she grabbed on to him.

A touch was all she needed to clog the barrels of his weapons so they wouldn't function. Her collapse continued though, turning back into sand as she mumbled something like, "Out of time."

The sand settled into the thin stream of water in the bottom of the storm drain that Thompson had decided to hide in and thickened it until it was like standing in a foot of mud. Not impossible to move through, but terribly difficult. It sounded like the cops were not fooled for long either, possibly because the manhole cover wasn't quite back in position.

____

The agent frowned as the cops clamped around the manhole cover. Minerva spoke of a higher authority, and this caused an even more concerned reaction.

The Emperor was the absolute sovereign of the Aschen state, to imply a higher authority was heresy.

Then Minnie disappeared, first disabling his PDW, clogging it with sand, then she filled the channel with mud. Thompson scowled before he spoke.

"I'm compromised, the sand Mage is a traitor!" He hissed into his communication node.

"Acknowledged, we'll get a courier to relay your message, try to get out of there!" The safe house responded.

Thompson pulled back his sleeve, exposing a small keypad linked to a set of blink packs attached to his belt, hastily trying to enter a set of coordinates to teleport out.

As the cops drew closer, he could hear their heavy boots, hitting the enter key, Thompson vanished in a flash of white light and an audible pop, followed by a brief rush of wind as air rushed to where he was standing.

The coordinates took him further out away from the safe house, but also would teleport him a block away from the hospital, dropping him roughly into a dumpster inside an alleyway. It wasn't elegant, but at least he was safe for now.

____

When Thompson reached for his communication node, it started to hiss with static, also full of sand and unusable. When he teleported and dropped into the dumpster, more sand followed him, pouring in from where he had appeared, and falling on him as a mass of wet weight to ensure he couldn't stand up or climb out.

Safe wasn't the right term, not in the slightest, since Minerva was still with him. Clinging like a malevolent ghost, she would not be compromised or thwarted by the likes of this insignificant agent. She started eating away at his gear, devouring it and turning it into more wet weight on top of Thompson. All the garbage that had cushioned his fall was also sand at that point, and a plate of stone clanged on top of the lid to prevent escape.

Worse than that, the pavement beneath the dumpster was also disintegrating rapidly, and the metal box rocked wildly as it sank. She could have just stabbed him to death with splinters of stone, or crushed him under a boulder of metal, but with the strange Aschen tech, it seemed safer to just drown him and bury the evidence. Especially since he just tried to have Her killed remotely. After she had done her best to save Him, twice: first in the parking garage and then from the shortsightedness of his 'orders'. Asshole.

By the time she was done, all she'd have to do was blend the pavement and the stone cap and the biggest questions anyone would have were 'where did the dumpster go?' and his team wondering what the hell happened to him.

Still, it would have been far more convenient to have let the cops have his body intact. That would have solved lots of problems. As it was, she'd have to lay off the bigger effects and not leave sand everywhere anymore. Bummer.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai and Calcos

Ingrid sat in her wheelchair, watching as police officers broke the wall down. She was far from the scared girl that Minerva left, she was angry. The lights and the smells of the hospital seeping into her room were an omen. Not for Ingrid, but for those she, or her brother, thought were behind this experience.

The strange woman mentioned the Aschen.

Did she work for them? Was she their enemy? They were involved either way.

"Are you okay?" A police officer asked, "I need my phone." Ingrid answered.

____

Four officers arrived on the scene at the hospital. The latest reports were that activity had moved to the parking garage; the last known location of the previous officers. They screeched in, speeding into the underground chamber in their patrol cars, each coming to a halt near the entrance. They filed out of their cars almost simultaneously, weapons drawn as they surveyed their surroundings.

The parking garage was relatively silent, and there seemed to be no visible signs of activity in the immediate vicinity. Nevertheless, the officers kept their weapons firm in front of them, the collective taking up a position that covered all sides, eyes in every direction so as to counteract and potential ambushes, trigger fingers ready and willing to squeeze should the situation go hot. Looking around, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

That is, until, one officer's attention was caught by a strange sighting.

"Look," he said, motioning his gun towards the visual in front of him. One of the officers fired up the radio. "Thirty-One, dispatch; we are are ten-twenty three. Investigating now." The cluster of officers waited through the radio silence that lasted mere moments, yet felt like an eternity. "Ten-four, Thirty-One. Exercise caution." With that, the officers moved forward.

On the ground, they noticed several charred, human-shaped masses lying on the ground. The disfigured bodies posed in such disturbingly horrid ways that one of the officers had to turn the head, lurching and heaving until finally the contents of their stomach resurfaced and splattered upon the ground. 'Fuckin' rookies,' one of the officers thought. The officers took note of the char marks in the pavement as well. Obviously, the corpses before them had been quite thoroughly incinerated.

But by what?

"Thrity-one, dispatch. We're gonna need an investigative team on-scene, ASAP. I...I think we've found our men," the officer said, disheartened, "Jesus Christ." The radio fired up again. "Ten-four, Thirty-One. Hold position."

____

Later, after Minerva had a chance to rest, she would return to the hospital. This time she approached on foot and in the guise of a random businessman she had encountered that morning. Seeing the cops and crime scene tape cleared her head though, and rather than entering the hospital (as previously intended) she turned to go down the street that would eventually take her behind the building.

Sure enough, Ingrid's room seemed to be empty from her vantage point, and more crime scene tape would likely block the hole. The 'businessman' gaped at the wreckage like any other rubbernecker before moving along.

Out of sight of the hospital, the sand witch went through several different faces before finding a convenience store with a functional payphone. It was time to make some calls.

____

Roz and James arrived within the next hour, stepping from her vehicle and into the thick of it, the pair of detectives sauntering up to the perimeter of the crime scene, a quick flashing of badges allowing them to slip under the bright yellow tape. She looked around, her eyes resting on where a trio of officers were standing around, flashlights illuminating the ground beneath them; the lighting in the parking garage didn't allow for very good visibility, it would seem.

Immediately, she noticed the signs of shit having devolved drastically: the telltale signs of scorching were all over the place, the charred bodies lined up in a row little more than heaps of blackened gristle. "What do we have?" Roz asked bluntly. The officers turned to face her, pointing at the bodies on the ground. "They were the initial response. Jenkins, Erickson, Smith..." he trailed off, "This is a fuckin' nightmare. Having to close off five blocks in every direction. The commissioner must be taking this one very seriously."

'For once,' Rozalin thought.

She moved past the officers, kneeling down to examine the bodies. They were scorched beyond recognition, a grisly sight indeed. The black char marks covering the area suggested they were incinerated by an explosive of some sort. But, what could have possibly caused this much damage? Napalm, white phosphorous; Roz had several possible candidates running through her mind, but the state of the corpses suggested something a bit more dire. She perked up, realization hitting her like a hefty brick.

"Someone get me a Geiger counter. I don't care how, just do it."

____

"You heard the woman. Make moves." James said to the police officers. He approached Roz, nudging her slightly to get her attention. "Why are we on this?" He asked her, "I mean, I get it. All available resources, dead cops, but the NPA can handle this on their own." He said to the detective.

"Unless we're missing something. Organized crime? A hit gone wrong. Spontaneous mob violence." He said, pacing slowly towards the destroyed elevator. He kneeled down in front of it, peering inside. Blood and sand mixed together.

Usually it wouldn't make much sense, but St. Genevieve was the leading hospital on the planet that dealt with paralysis. Cybernetics, prosthetics, drugs.

Maybe someone was trying to get their hands on the research.

____

"It's procedure, Turn. We have jurisdiction here. If the NPA wants to get involved, then they need to go through proper channels and kick us off the case. Until then, keep your eyes peeled." Her words were cold, speckled with her usual no-nonsense attitude. She listened as one of the beat cops radioed in for a Geiger counter to be shipped in. Good; it would help her determine what medium was used to cause all of this damage.

She joined James near the elevator, her eyes scanning the ground. She found several brass casings nearby, dipping down and examining them. She procured a pair of latex gloves from her pocket, donning them with a concise pop, picking up and examining the shells under the dim, overhanging lights. "Well, this is interesting," she said, taking an evidence bag from her pocket and dispensing the casing inside.

"We'll need to have this checked for potential prints. Maybe we'll be able to figure out who owns the gun it was fired from as well."

____

"Different calibers." James told Roz, relying on his military background. "45s and 40s. Two shooters, but we knew that." He said, leaning in to look at the elevator itself. The trajectory of the bullets indicated that the shooters were fighting and trying to get in any shots they could.

But, that didn't explain the charred bodies. And no one reported seeing anyone else down in the elevator after the shooting stopped other than the injured one.

Maybe his would-be killer came back to finish the job.

"This is strange. Different kind of strange."

____

Roz was puzzled. There was sand, bodies burned beyond a crisp, and bullet casings strewn about everywhere. None if it made sense. "This all seems too random. And what's with the sand? Some type of weird calling card?" Just as the words fell from her mouth, her attention was caught by a beckoning officer. "Detectives, you may want to see this," he said, ushering them over with a waving arm.

Roz stood from her perched position, walking over to where the officer was standing. In his gloved hand, he held a strange metal casing, black and yellow in color. It looked worn from use, bearing black markings around the rim; the same color as the char marks on the concrete. Roz took the strange capsule from the officer, turning it over in her hand. As she examined it, she noticed a series of strange symbols printed on the side. Writing, but it was in a language she didn't understand.

"This is...what is this?" she asked, turning to James as if expecting him to have an answer.

____

James shrugged, standing and heading over to the door that was blown open. "This was destroyed from here, but the first responders said they chased a guy down into the sewers." He said to Roz, leaning in closer to examine the door.

"No apparent explosive residue. Energy weapon? Maybe someone with superpowers?" He asked himself, the superpower theory went out of the window when Roz found her next piece of evidence.

James made his way over, he raised an eyebrow at it.

"That's a microfusion cell. It's Aschen." He told Roz, "I was in the military, I became well-versed."

____

Roz examined the microfusion cell, rather perplexed. "It's funny," she said, "I've never seen Aschen tech in person before. Only what we have on file. And I've never seen one of these, not even in the records..." She trailed off, contemplating. Aschen technology, sand and bullets. It was like trying to complete a puzzle when all of the pieces came from three different sets.

"This doesn't bode well, though. If the Aschen are here, it could mean trouble. It hasn't been long since the crisis in Westeria. And if they're here now, it can't be for good reasons." She looked at James, her gaze stern and very much disconcerted. "This could become a matter of national security."

____

"You think we could be dealing with vigilantes trying to stop the Aschen?" James asked, "I've heard of a few operating in the city and in others." He said to Roz, "Could explain everything, or at least some of it." He said.

He gestured around the parking lot, "Chance. Paths crossed and shots got fired."

____

"It isn't unlikely; especially not for this city. But what are the odds of some vigilante acquiring Aschen technology? Unless the vigilante are themselves Aschen, which doesn't seem to be their MO, as far as I can tell..." Roz pondered, rather confounded at the seemingly random assortment of evidence that lay piled at her feet. She just couldn't figure out how to make them correlate at the moment.

Something had to give.

____

"We'll figure it out." James assured Roz, "All the pieces are here. We just need to figure out where they go." He told her. But, he knew like she knew that it was easier said than done. And, with their other cases it might take longer than they'd want.

The shooters could be long gone, or dead if they suffered any injuries, before the detectives could break the case. If they ever did.

____

She nodded curtly, affirming her partner of her uncontested resolve. Finally, one of the uniformed officers informed her that the Geiger counter she requested would be delivered shortly, much to her satisfaction. Content with that new development, she decided to peek around a while longer, and decide what more, if anything, she could find. The way everything looked, this all went down in a matter of moments. And, looking towards the elevator, she had a thought cross her mind. "Are there any high-profile patients here? Anyone who would be worth eliminating?"

____

"Several. This place is state-of-the-art and expensive. If you want top notch cybernetics in the medical field you come here." James told Roz, "It's where I got my knee replaced after the first war." He added, "I'll get on making a list."

James turned to head to the elevator, until he realized it was destroyed still. The one next to it was too risky to use so they sealed it off.

"Stairs it is." He said, heading for the stairwell.

____

"See if you can round up some witnesses!" she called after him. Turning her attention back to the situation at hand, she turned to the officers. "Speaking of which, have your men started questioning the bystanders?" she asked. The officer nodded, gesturing outside. "Got some of the locals to talk to us, but they didn't offer anything too substantial. We'll keep digging, though. Something will turn up."

"I sure hope so," Roz said.

____

James groaned as he waited in the lobby for the list of names he requested. Were there that many high profile patients? Or was he being stalled?

"Right this way, Mr. Sharif." A nurse said to a suited man entering the hospital. James turned to get a look at him, he had the dirty aura of a lawyer on him. But, he was too muscular to be just that unless he spent most of his time in the gym.

"Thank you." Sharif said, following the nurse to an elevator.

"Detective?" Another nurse said, placing a folder down on the lobby desk. "Who is that?" James asked, "Someone from that Invictus group. It was one of them that got shot earlier." She told James, "So, our victim is someone. Just not a gangster kind of someone. Explains a lot."

"Thank you, Lucille." James said, grabbing the folder and rushing back towards the stairs.

____

Roz looked over her shoulder as James returned from upstairs, the look painted on his face looking as if he had something important to say. "Find anything useful?" she asked dryly. Of course, at this point, every little bit helped.

____

"Why, yes I do." James said to Roz, "The unknown that they have upstairs? With the Invictus. The mercenaries. Unfortunately, he's got a lawyer up there too. Lawyers complicate things." He told her, "Also got a list of high-profile patients. That's all I have. They wouldn't provide anything more than that."

____

Rozalin took the files, rather unceremoniously, from James' hands, looking them over with a quickness, picking out a few names on the papers that may or may not have stood out to her. Closing the manila folder, she shook her head. "If there's an Invictus member present here, it's highly likely they were the target of this attack. Could have been the Aschen, but as I've been hearing, their enemies have been piling on lately." She turned her gaze away from the folder and up to James.

"Scoring an interview with this person might just be our best bet, assuming we can find a way around the lawyer." Her attention was grabbed by one of the uniformed officers. He motioned with a thumb back towards the entrance of the parking garage. "It's here," he said, referring to the counter she had requested earlier. With a nod, she followed.

"Coming, Turn?" she asked flatly.

____

"Right behind you." Johnsaid, moving to follow the detective. "I don't know about the Aschen angle, the Invictus guy had bullet wounds. The Aschen aren't known for gunpowder and lead. But, if it was a clusterfuck like I think it was, this wasn't meant to become a gunfight. Something went wrong for someone and exploded."

 

[Tiko]

as written by glmstr, Saarai, and Calcos

High in the sky over the Nashtons, a brilliant ball of fire was descending through the atmosphere. Most of its horizontal speed had bled off, so it was approaching the borough at a rather steep angle.

Within the pod, the roar of the burning atmosphere was near-deafening. Shock-heated air covered the windows in red and orange streaks. Argyra started firing retrograde thrusters to bleed off speed, releasing the drogue chutes to further slow down. The radar altimeter's number was starting to drop more slowly, and mach effects instead took over for the re-entry heating.

The craft slowed down farther, finally below the speed of sound, and out came a full parachute. The damage from the collision with the old ship was becoming apparent, as the parachute's fabric was torn and some of the cords cut, so it was largely ineffective at slowing the ship to a soft landing.

With speeds still somewhat above a hundred miles per hour, the boarding pod smashed into a street, burying itself around a foot into the asphalt.

The occupant was knocked out from the impact, but the contents of the pod were largely intact.

____

"Holy shit! Did you see that?" A young man asked his friends, they were barely adults and probably up to no good. "Let's check it out." One of the youngsters suggested, leading the small group towards the downed escape pod. Other bystanders weren't as bold, content with just watching and snapping pictures.

"What is it?" One of the juveniles asked as they approached, "An escape pod." Another answered, prompting some puzzled looks from his friends. "I read. Let's open it." He said, "No way anyone survived that."

One of young men dug into his backpack, pulling out three crowbars for the others to use. Theft was their thing and they planned on getting something to pawn before the cops could mobilize. "At the same time." One of them ordered, leading the others to the pod door.

They jammed the crowbars in any openings they could find, using their combined strength to hopefully ean a payday.

____

Calamitous rumbling reverberated throughout the entire district, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Rozalin wobbled as the tremors shook the world around her, the stoic detective staggering for a moment before ultimately finding her balance. Some of the uniformed officers didn't maintain their footing as gracefully, some of them even buckling from the force that quaked the city, planting their posteriors firmly into the ground as balance fled from them.

The uniformed officers and Special Tactics Administration personnel stationed outside of the parking garage found themselves looking hither and thither as the raucous activity finally came to cessation. Guns cradled in their grips, the STA officers held fast as they looked in the direction of the impact. "The fuck was that?" one of them shouted as police radios fired up, the precinct undoubtedly being bombarded with phone calls and status reports. "Think it's another one of...those?" one of them asked. The STA officer shrugged. "Could be," he said as another officer, a lieutenant, came striding up.

"Dispatch says we're to check it out, boys. O'Malley, Swanson, Beck," he said, pointing at two STA officers and one uniform, "C'mon, yer with me. Jules, Carmen, take up the rear." Nerves already wracked by a combination tension and a lack of caffeine and tobacco, the officers begrudgingly set off towards where the noise had emanated, fully expecting, and fully prepared for, immense levels of trouble.

____

The pod's door eventually popped open with the help of the crowbars. However, instead of treasure, they only found a woman clad in ebon armor and adorned with bones, and a steel lining to her jaw. A menacing figure, but she was only partially conscious at the moment.

Argyra's head weakly lifted itself to look at the youngsters in front of her, and her eyes were at least able to focus on them.

Her first words were slurred and in an alien language, Union to be specific. She reached into a pocket and pressed a button on the BlackBox Deluxe controller, and the little locker whirred to life. small wheels poked out from the bottom of the box, and it wheeled over to its master and opened up.
The Union pirate unhooked herself from her chair, and stood up to shaky legs. She reached down and picked up her rail rifle, hooking it to her back and holstering her laser pistol as well.

A click of the remote commanded the locker to slam shut and follow its leader.

She stepped out of the pod to take in the cityscape around her, the groggy highrises of Van Leugen clearly different to the Westeria she was looking for.

Where am I?

____

"Uh._. Hi." One of the young men said nervously. The group was clearly out of their element, looting was easier when people were dead, unconscious or just not around to stop it. This woman was neither and she had a gun.

"Hey!" A police officer shouted as he pushed through the crowd. He recognized the teens, the woman was new. Regardless of that he knew the boys were up to something. "Shit, it's Cranston! Run! You should too lady." One of the boys shouted, the others starting to scatter as Cranston approached.

____

"Who the hell is Cranston?" Argyra thought out loud in Union again as she stepped out of the pod, her hand gently gripping the laser pistol at her hip. With how it sounded, maybe this person was a local pirate?

She reached into her locker and pulled out a face-mask of sorts that she clipped to the plate along her jaw, which covered her mouth and cheeks but kept her nose and eyes visible.

She spoke again, her voice coming through somewhat modulated but re-translated into the local tongue,
"You. Where am I right now?"

The LinguaMAX was a common tool used by most Unionites that travelled abroad or spoke to many different kinds of sentient life. A rather sophisticated AI was capable of reading the user's voice and, after calibration, repeat the speaker's voice in another language. It also came with earbuds that served the same purpose in reverse.

____

"Van Leugen, lady! Follow us!" One of the juveniles called out to Argyra. STA officers were making their way through bystanders, a few moving to help Cranston catch the delinquents before they could flee down alleyways. The rest focused on the escape pod and Argyra, weapons raised as they began to approach.

"Clear out!" One of them yelled at the crowd, hoping they would actually listen and ignore their curiosity for the time being.

____

"Alright, fine," Argyra clicked the remote on her BBDeluxe to follow, and followed the kids down the alleyways. The STA looked like some sort of elite police, and Union police proxies were vicious enough that these might have been as bad.

The locker whirred along, keeping pace with the pirate as she followed the kids to wherever they were going.

____

"Hey!" Cranston shouted as he broke into a run after the fleeing boys and the woman who had emerged from the pod --the source of the disturbance. "You two, on me!" he said to O'Malley and Swanson, "The rest of ya, secure the area! Get some more STA guys over here!" With that, they broke from the scene, trailing after the runaways. "You fuckin' punks, get back here!"

 

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai and glmstr

One of the juveniles broke off from the others, pulling open a door that lead into a restaurant. "Come on, lady." He said to Argyra before heading inside. Needless to say, the kitchen staff inside weren't exactly happy about some kid running through their workplace. Yelling could be heard for a moment and then it suddenly stopped.

Something was wrong. That's what it had to be.

____

The sudden halt of yelling put Argyra slightly on edge, and she already assumed the worst. Then again, the kind of unsavory folk that would do such a thing were exactly the kinds of people she worked with on a daily basis. Though, just to be safe, the Unionite unhooked the rail-rifle from her back and held it in both hands and pointed down, a common gesture of friendliness whilst also being armed.

She stepped through the door of the restaurant, her finger still on the trigger in case she needed to defend herself.

____

The kitchen staff were quietly working, some of them showing fear. They ignored Argyra, and they ignored Cranston when he ran in after her. O'Malley and Swanson seemed more than a little confused when they caught up. They could only hope they were dealing with something normal and not paranormal.

"There." A chef whispered, pointing to the door out into the dining area.

____

Argyra gave a nod of thanks and checked her rifle, making sure the sight was flipped up and the magazine was correctly loaded. She burst into the dining area and rolled the blackbox into position to block the door, then opening the lid to provide solid waist-high cover against small-arms fire from the kitchen. She held herself against the wall, rifle at the ready for any hostiles coming through.

____

"Calm yourself." Said a woman seated at one of the tables in the restaurant. She was fair-skinned with long blonde hair, a burgundy pantsuit making up her ensemble. She was flanked by some mean looking men, several gripping the weapons holstered on their waists.

The kid was sitting down on the floor, one of the armed men keeping close to him.

"We're getting for our grand opening and here you two are running through our kitchen .I'm a little upset, but not angry." The woman told Argyra, her accent a thick Russian one. "You bring the police here, I don't like that. I don't like police. This kid knows that."

"Tell me why he shouldn't die for upsetting me, stranger."

____

The Unionite looked towards the speaker and lowered her weapon. Her grey eyes briefly scanned each person, grinning at the thought of finding someone of similar tastes to her own.

These people seem more my speed.

"I'm sorry if I stepped on some toes," Argyra stepped towards the group and holstered her rifle, still resting one hand on the laser pistol at her hip. The lights in the room illuminated her ebon armor and the various bones affixed to them, some of them almost completely alien in structure while others seemed almost human. "My ship was coming in to sack that place called Westeria City when our ship blew up and I crashed not far from here," the pirate gestured towards the street corner, "this kid and his friends popped open my escape pod and led me here when the cops showed up."

"You don't like police?" Argyra's voice was heavily modulated from the iron mask over the lower half of her face. "We would get along rather well."

____

"An off-worlder? I've met many like you." The Russian woman said, "Mercenary?" She asked, beckoning Argyra closer at the sound of Cranston and his back-up in the kitchen. They had to be dealt with, though without violence for once. The restaurant was a legitimate business and murders or violence would mess with it's income.

"Gendy, hand the boy to the law enforcement." The blonde ordered.

____

"I'd say Pirate or Marauder fits the bill better," the offworlder stepped forward. "But my crew is dead and my ship's destroyed, so I'm stuck around here until I can get someone to pick me up. So, I'm stranded on this planet until someone notices I'm missing."

She pulled out the remote to her locker and clicked a button on it, and the box snapped shut and whirred towards Argyra, seeming almost endearing in an unusual way.

____

"Pirate?" The Russian woman asked, "You could be useful. And you're a face no one knows here." She said, clearly contemplating Argyra's future on Valore in her employ. Gendy stepped forward to grab the teen as Cranston and the other officers stepped into the restaurant.

"Steaks on us tonight." Gendy said to Cranston as he pushed the young delinquent towards him.

The Russian woman stood slowly, "You may leave now, officers. Your job is done."

 

[Tiko]

as written by Calcos, glmstr, and Saarai

"Not a chance," Cranston said belligerently, pointing a finger at the strange woman he and his men had been chasing as he half-slumped to catch his breath from all of the running. One of the other officers moved forward to secure the teenage boy that had fled from the group. "She needs to come to the precinct for questioning." The officers were on edge enough as it was; it didn't help that some weirdo newcomer bitch had crash-landed in the middle of the city and then proceeded to try and evade them. In his mind, such was oddly suspicious behavior for someone who had nothing to hide.

____

The ebon-clad Unionite laughed. Loudly.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, some street punk?" Argyra unhooked her rail-rifle and pointed it at Cranston with one hand. "If you don't back up, the only things that'll be going back to your precinct are you and your little cop friends in bodybags. So, if you like having your brain matter inside your skull, I'd suggest going home and forgetting this ever happened."

She moved her thumb and an audible click came from the rifle, most likely from the safety.

"Do I make myself clear, officer?"

____

"I don't remember giving you a choice." The Russian woman said to Cranston, slowly making her way towards him. She raised a hand to Argyra's rifle, attempting to push it down. "Your new mayor sends you on suicide missions daily in hopes of stopping the Skull Society, vigilantes, us. He gets the glory, you get a funeral."

"I can give you a kingdom, but not if you insist on ruining my night. You'll ruin it if you take my new friend away, and I will ruin your life."

____

Cranston, suddenly realizing how surrounded he and his men were, wordlessly ordered them to back down, moving his arm behind him, palm downward, their weapons trained on the floor. His curiosity had been piqued by this woman, however, her words and the way she spoke them tantalizing.

And true.

"How do you mean?" he asked her.

____

Argyra lowered her weapon, albeit only slightly, from the woman's gesture. Wasting all of the cops in the room wouldn't necessarily be a grueling task, but she could stand to make a few friends to get home that much faster. She couldn't help but sneer at such a weak-willed and easily corruptible police officer. A sorry excuse for law enforcement, she thought, no wonder I've already met groups that are more my speed.

____

"A regime change is coming, officer. You can either join the revolution or become forgotten history with the rest of the proletariat." The Russian told Cranston, "Imagine becoming your police force's chief, this city's mayor, or even prime minister. We can make it happen for our friends." She said, moving to wrap an arm around the police officer.

"But only our useful friends."

____

Cranston felt oddly comfortable with the woman's arm around his shoulders. It was like a familiar blanket, draped over his person and shielding him from the frigid cold of powerlessness. He was certainly capable of remembering the old Van Leugen--before the mayor--which had been run by criminals like the ones he now found himself surrounded by. But he could also remember how orderly such a time had been, how routine it had felt.

He wasn't blind to the new mayor's ambitions; the man meant well. However, Cranston knew enough to realize that such ideals didn't last long in the cold, demonic face of reality. If he played along and sided with Reed's thinking, it would only be a matter of time before the mayor's entire system fell to the same chaos and corruption that overtook every idealist's dreams. The very same darkness that would plunge Reed's vision of a more perfect Van Leugen into the abyss he was now desperately trying to claw it out of. Indeed, he was able to recognize the gravity of the situation.

It was only a matter of time before he found himself on the losing side.

So, he made the decision he felt was best, for both himself and his friends and comrades. "Okay," he began, "You've made your point." His men seemed similarly interested in this woman's words, a unanimous chorus of agreeable murmurs erupting from the group. Well, almost unanimous.

Suddenly, one of the STA officers backed away from the huddle, his submachine gun cradled in his arms like a fragile infant, ready to spring to life in a moment's notice. "Cranston. Don't tell me..." he trailed off, eyes darting between the criminals and his fellow officers. His name was Brian Lugo, a rather young, idealistic officer. He pledged himself to Reed's ideals, feeling he would lay down his life for the cause of justice. Throwing in with criminals like this was unfathomable to him. "Don't tell me you're buying this shit!" Cranston turned, eyes softened as he addressed the young man. "Come on, Lugo. Think for a second. Think for yourself! Do you honestly believe you'll be better off taking a check from the noble boys in blue, here in 'Leugen? Hell, even the commissioner bends his knee to the crime bosses. Be reasonable, Lugo. Put the gun down."

But he wouldn't. He took a full step backward, gun raised in defiance to the words that were assaulting his ears. "T-that's not true!" he spouted in uncertainty. "It can't be!" Cranston took a small step forward, his right hand outstretched pleadingly, wordlessly begging for Lugo to surrender his firearm. "It is, kid. Now c'mon. Don't do anything stupid."

Lugo gritted his teeth, gun still level on his targets. "No! It's not true! I don't believe you!" he shouted, eyes widening in disbelief. His whole world was being ripped apart right in front of him, his naivety coming around full circle to sink its teeth into his very heart, tearing him asunder from the very seams of his person. "I'm not gonna let you do this!" he said, keeping his gun trained on the group of people before him.

His finger was getting visibly tight around the trigger...

____

The little scene unfolding before Argyra's eyes painted a smirk on her face. This city really was going to be a playground for her. With a government this corrupt and broken, she was going to be able to run with just about any antic she wanted with little to keep her in check. That is, unless there was something or someone extraordinary, but she'll cross that bridge if she comes to it.

"What are you going to do?" Argyra finally stepped forward again, slinging the rifle over her shoulder and stepping towards the young officer. "Shoot? Try to be the hero? I can see it in the headlines now: Brave officer stops mob boss, corruption, alien invader. You'll get a key to the city, a big nice parade, and maybe do some motivational speaking at an elementary school. Hell, you might just get a park bench or a little statue named after you."

Lugo, feeling threatened from the ebon-clad alien only a few feet away and approaching, opened fire with the submachine gun. The bullets clattered and ricocheted off of the solid metal hardpoints on her armor, the few stray shots otherwise missing entirely.

"Oh who am I kidding," with a swift backhanded motion, she struck the barrel of the officer's gun and knocked it from his hands, sending the weapon bouncing uselessly along the floor.
"I like your idealism. I really do. Seems like this place needs folks like you," the Unionite pulled out the keychain and clicked the call button on her rolling locker, the little box whirring to her side and opening its lid. Argyra picked up the sword inside, a wickedly sharp blade with a nearly monomolecular edge.

"Hate to break it to you," she jammed the sword into Lugo's torso, pushing forward until he was completely run through, hilt of the blade pressing against his flesh.

"In the real world, sometimes the bad guy wins."She kicked him away, flicking her wrist lightly to whip the excess blood from the razor-sharp weapon before placing it back in the locker.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Calcos and Saarai

In the calamity that ensued, it seemed like time slowed to a snail's crawl: First, there was the sharp sting of betrayal, then the retaliation as Lugo sought to put an end to his turncoat former friends. Finally, once the steel had been planted and blood had been shed, the world began to rotate at its normal speed once more. Lugo fell backward, the bleeding hole in his chest serving as the first of many testaments to come, and they would only intensify as time wore on.

One of the younger officers in the group offered up a hand, as if trying to catch the dying Lugo as he fell backward, bleeding his life away. It was only by action of Cranston--by God, the most sensible of them all--that he was able to lower his hand, as his superior took him by the wrist and darted the arm downward, looking the corporal in the eyes and shaking his head. 'You didn't see anything,' the look on Cranston's face said. There would be no tears, no signs of remorse. Not while their new friends were looking. They would drink to Lugo's memory later, once they had time to themselves.

After that, Lugo would be just another casualty in the revolution.

Cranston looked over the cadaver with a seeming indifference, quickly shooting his gaze to the Russian woman once he was done privately lamenting the loss of a valued ally and friend. "Sorry about that," he said, trying to seem nonchalant and, if he dared thing so himself, doing a damn fine job of it. "Didn't expect him to go off the deep end like that." He gave a sideways glance to Lugo one last time. it would likely be the final time he'd be able to stomach seeing the corpse of one of the department's best. At least, it would be the last time he'd be able to do so without rethinking his decision to allow it, at any rate. However, at present, he had business to attend to.

"What now?" he asked without the slightest tinge of anger plaguing his voice. keeping his eyes fixated on his new friends, he was ready to keep going, to advance to the next step. Lugo was an unfortunate loss, but also and unavoidable one. He would be missed.

But the world would continue to turn without him.

____

"Gendy, take the body elsewhere. I don't want it too close." The Russian woman ordered, "Unless, of course, officer...?" She looked to the teen, "Cranston." The kid said, "Officer Cranston and his fellow officers would like to do the honors. I personally want to see how well they handle this."

Gendy nodded, "I agree, if handled poorly we'll handle." He said gesturing to Arygyra, "Or pay to handle. We handle family, friends, handle your pets even.

It wasn't hard to tell that Gendy was making threats. It was bold, but the gangsters already had a dead cop in their restaurant. A few more wouldn't hurt.

____

Cranston held up an open hand, reassuringly. "We'll take care of it. We always take care of our own," he said with a pang of guilt in his voice. One of the others grabbed his shoulder, pulling him in close enough to whisper. "We ain't really gonna do this, are we?" he asked nervously. Cranston gave him a defeated look, splayed across his weathered face. The expression said all that Cranston was thinking: 'It's the only choice we got, kid.' The younger officer resigned, standing back in line behind his superior.

"We'll make sure Lugo gets a proper burial," he said with a bit more coldness this time around.

____

"Good." The Russian woman said, turning to head back to her seat. "Please, return tonight for the grand opening. Ask for Alexandria Mirzoyev and I will make sure you are taken care of." She told Cranston and the other officers.

"Gendy, get the blood cleaned if there is any. And make sure our pirate friend looks like a lady for tonight." Alexandria ordered, "You will be very intimidating to our guests, Argyra." She told the alien.

 

[Tiko]

as written by glmstr and Saarai

"Aw, that's touching," Argyra gave a wicked, almost predatory grin. Being called intimidating, it was a fantastic compliment for someone such as herself. Getting started with the right foot was always important in subjugating and terrorizing a local populace.

"I don't think I have any dress clothing with me," she tapped her locker with her foot and it flipped open, and the pirate nodded after briefly looking through several changes of clothes.
"My ship had some, but now it's slag and scrap metal. So, I guess I'll need you to provide."
____

"Come, I have extra clothing in my office." Alexandria told Argyra, "And we can discuss employment opportunities until you can find a way back home, or at least until someone pays you more for your services." The woman added, heading towards the kitchen.

"Mop and bucket!" Gendy yelled, expecting that wasn't himself to do the cleaning.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Saarai and glmstr

"Bullshit." Gendy said as he stood outside of the restaurant, his jacket doing little to protect him from cold breezes. Outdoor security wasn't how he planned to spend his night. He wanted to be inside greasing the palms of the high class types that were showing up.

A limousine pulled up to the curb, Gendy stepping forward to open the back door for it's occupants. "Don't look so down, Gendy." Wesley said as he climbed out of the vehicle. "Been a long time, Wesley." Gendy said to the man, grabbing his hand for a firm and friendly handshake.

"Ajax has had a few, uh... public relations issues recently. Not a lot of time for friends." Wesley told the man, "Alex?" He asked, "Right inside. Corner booth." Gendy answered, "Him?" He asked, gesturing inside the limo.

Seated with his face turned away was a dark-skinned young man, his light blue eyes reflecting off of the window. "He's shy." Wesley said, making his way inside the restaurant.

Even with the sea of people it was easy for him to spot Alexandria. Not many people could command the presence she could, nor be flanked by such big scary Russian mobsters and not stand out.

"Alexandria, my dear!" Wesley called out as he approached the woman, "Francis Wesley, I've missed you." Alexandria said, a toothy smile plastered onto her face. "Please, sit and tell me the nature of this visit."

"I need bodies. Bodies that aren't Ajax." Wesley told the Bratva leader, "For?" She asked, "Finding and killing the hacker Verity." Wesley answered as he slid into the booth. "Yes, Verity. Problems you've had with him. We can solve those problems, Francis." Alexandria said.

The woman waved over one of her men, "Fetch the alien. I wish to see her in civilized dress and give her work."

____

In a nearby room, said alien was quickly eyeing her new clothing in the mirror: a sleek black figure-hugging dress. The skirt, slit on the left side near her thigh, reached her ankles. It resembled fashion in the Union for the most part, so Argyra had very little difficulty figuring it out. Her armored and utilitarian clothing she arrived on Valore with was neatly folded in a little pile in her rolling locker. The final touches to her outfit was elbow-length gloves to cover her tattooed and scarred hands and a little necklace she brought with her, the charm being the Union triangle with a skull over it, the emblem of her pirates.

When the bodyguard knocked on the door, she was already dressed and promptly came out. Pelagios was escorted to Alexandria's table, and she gave the same predatory grin as before. She held the metal face mask from before, her translator, in her hand and only clipped it onto the steel plate lining her jaw to speak.

"This is nice, I haven't had any opportunities recently to wear something that isn't armored."

Her voice was definitely still hers, but the mask itself distorted it slightly.

____

Wesley raised a curious eyebrow at the woman escorted over to the booth. Alexandria was apparently being literal when she said she had an alien. An alien that could be a very tool for Ajax Security in the midst of their ongoing legal troubles.

She was a face no one could connect to them. Discretion was a must if things were to go back to normal for all involved. Except the dead man, Verity.

"Francis, this is Argyra. She isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. I saw personally her character." Alexandria said, giving the Unionite the introduction she needed.

"That's all I need. Men and women capable of doing what needs to be done. For a fair price, of course." Wesley told the women, "I would offer one of my own, but I need all hands on deck. We are either going to war with The Skull Society, or we are joining and going to war with society." Alexandria told Wesley.

"It will be... exhilarating either way it goes." The Russian said, smiling wickedly at the idea of turning Valore's cities into a war zone.

"Right, anyways, Argyra. Myself and my employers need a hacker to be permanently removed from the Net." Wesley said to the alien. "We'll be assisting with information as best we can, but the hacker knows their shit. The bounty is high, and there are others going after it."

"How you deal with them, and anyone else, is your business. Put together a team and share the spoils, slash their tires, drug them, whatever. We just want Verity dead."

____

"I don't want pay," the garbled voice broke the silence again. "I want a way off the planet. A ship, a distress beacon, or someone that can get me one." It was clearly too late to try ransacking this planet, and it seemed a little too densely populated to be done with brute force. The Unionite pirate shifted slightly, unsure if her current company could even muster those kinds of resources.

"A hacker?" Argyra seemed incredulous, nearly insulted even. "As in, some kid with a laptop?" She paused and looked to both people, then sighed at the fact that they were in fact serious. "Can you at least give me a name or where you think he is? I can start looking if you give me that much."

____

"A way off the planet? That's it? We can make that happen. I can speak to my contacts." Wesley told the woman, "As for Verity, we have some rumors that he might be based out of The Normans, the walled off part of the city. Apparently there's some geek there who owns a shop that may be our guy."

"Confirm and kill. We'll keep gathering our own information and hopefully we can make sure the right problem is taken care of for the right people." Wesley said.

____

"Calls himself Verity, and might be hiding in the Normams. Got it." Argyra checked her PDA and found, curiously, rudimentary mapping data of Van Leugen. The maps were fuzzy and it was hard to discern any close details, but the streets were all in the correct places and the transition between each neighborhood was somewhat clear.

Wait, has the Union already passed by here? No, this is much too far to be in their territory.

Must be a survey from the Supremacy or the Coalition then. They have much more presence out here anyway.

"If you need me for anything else, find a way to get a hold of me," without much else, the Unionite made her way back to the room she was in before, to change again. It might not have been noticeable when she approached the mobsters, but when she left it was much more striking that her footsteps were unusually loud for someone of her size and figure, almost as if she weighed twice as much as she looked.

In the dressing room, she changed back into her armored outfit, carefully placing the dress on the hanger it came with.

For equipment, she brought her locker and its contents, save a few differences. Pelagios left almost everything that had a computer built in (and therefore was potential to be hacked) in the locker, and slung the blade (in its sheath) and her rifle over her shoulders, and kept the laser pistol holstered on her hip.

Once ready she left through the the front door, passing by the mobsters again but in her full gear, still wearing the half-mask. With her boots, her steps were even louder, drums to announce her presence and strike fear into the weak.

____

"I like her." Alexandria said to Wesley, "I can see why." He responded, slowly getting to his feet. "I'll see you soon, Francis?" The Russian woman asked, "I hope so." Wesley said with a smile, "Let's do lunch, Alex." The man said, turning to head to the front door.

"Why do I know that face?" Asked NPA agent Leo Frost, camera in hand as he and his partner staked out the mob restaurant. "Send the pic back home. Have the lab run it." His partner suggested, thumbing through several folders.

He let out an exasperated sigh, he couldn't find anything on the mystery woman that he saw leave. She was put of place considering the occasion.

Mercenary? Bodyguard? New player in town? The NPA didn't know.

"Why couldn't get the locals to do this, Ray?" Leo asked, "Because the locals are bought or not willing to risk their lives to help this city." Ray answered.

"True. Even on it's worst day Westeria wasn't this far gone."

 

[Saarai]

"You're not ready." Carlo said to Sarai, pacing around the den of the expensive Nashtons mansion he called home. Carlo Montague, older, balding and always dressed in the finest clothes money could buy.

He was one of the more wealthy men in Van Leugen and despite his advanced age, he kept his hands in everything that could bring profit.

And brought profit it did.

"With all due respect, Carlo, it's been over a year. The Jupiter Corporation can, will, shake the stink of Lochlyn Haley off." Sarai retorted.

The young woman had the position of CEO hoisted on her by the Jupiter Corporation's board of directors. Tasked with rebuilding the company in an image that didn't represent that of a madman.

A daunting task, but one she accepted without protest. But, now she found herself being blocked from finishing that task.

So, there the young Israeli sat in one of Carlo's expensive chairs, drinking his expensive wine.

"The Terrans aren't ready to see your company's name on everything." Carlo told her, "The Terran people have short memories and bigger problems right now." Sarai said, "Besides, the medical technology we hold can help so many." She continued.

"Do you plan to give it away for free? Because your predecessor could afford to do so. He had money backing him. You have a board of directors trying to save their asses." Carlo said, taking a seat.

"I can get investors." Sarai told the man, "I will." She assured the man, "I believe you. Do you believe you?" Carlo asked.