Jansen winced as the young girl placed the cloth on his wound. His mind was trying to think in twelve different directions at once. Did he just shoot one of his own officers? No, he thought, it was self-defense. Was it? Whose defense was he coming to? His own? These two people? He didn’t know and the pain shooting through his body was clouding his thoughts. For a moment he looked into her eyes and saw the tell-tale signs of a wilder. Now he knew why her brother was trying to keep her calm. This pretty young girl was a walking plasma bomb and yet, as he looked at her face he sensed a kindness in her that he couldn’t explain. He felt more relaxed as the pain turned into a dull ache. “Thank you,” said Jansen. “Nina, right?” The young girl nodded her head. Jansen saw Tyson, still restrained, struggling to get to his feet and realized that he had to get out of there. He couldn’t worry about protocols and quotas today, he had bigger issues. By now, Mitrata was heading back to Aries and who knows what he would tell them. Jansen rose to his feet and looked at Nina and Tyson. He pulled the remote for the restraints from his belt and tossed it to Nina. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to go.” Jansen ran out the door and headed toward the central grav-tube, where he would make his way back to Aries, and to an unknown fate.
“You better run!” Ty shouted after Jansen as Nina pressed the button to unlock him. “And tell your friend I’ll be looking for him! He’s a dead man!” Ty threw the handcuffs off. “The hell Nina?” “Everyone deserves kindness, Ty.” “Not porkers, they don’t know what kindness is. Next porker to walk through this door I’m gunna kill him.” Ty paced the floor. “No you’re not. You’re not a killer.” Ty shook his head at her. “This is serious!” “I know.” “We are going to have porkers on our back like white on rice. Who knows what they know and how much they know.” “I know,” Nina said looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.” Ty ran his hand through his hair and left out a frustrated sigh. “Sorry? Nina you have nothing to be sorry about. This isn’t your fault. Look, let me go talk to my guys and see what we can do about getting them off our backs. In the meantime head to Threkk’s and tell him porkers are on your back and you need a place to hide. Be quick about it Nina I have to go.” With that being said Ty left. Nina grabbed her bag and a container of stew for Threkk and headed out the door.
"Bishop, I gotta hand it to ya. You sure know how to get yourself in shitty situations", the thin man sneered. The next blow landed square on the jaw and sent Bishop crashing into a pile of crates. He sat, limbs spread over his humble throne of broken wood, feeling the dull throbbing of his entire head. He looked up, beyond the blur observing his attackers laughing at his pain. Poe, the muscle, was wiping the blood from his knuckles and grinning his stupid grin and laughing almost manically. The smaller, thin one was Donovan. He was the brains and an ever fluctuating ally. Presently he was no such thing. Donovan began pacing back and forth, his frustration starting to show. "Honestly Bishop, I don't get you. You came to me saying that you've suckered some corporate suit into investing in some bullshit scheme and you needed 12000 credits just to prove you had money. And of course, out of the goodness of my heart, I lend you the money only to find out that not only do you not have my money, you can't even show for the 20000 credits you took from him!" exclaimed Donovan. Blood trickled down Bishop's face crossing perpendicular over his thin beard. He lifted his left arm in an attempt to pull his laser pistol concealed in he sleeve but before he could follow through, Poe quickly and forcefully slammed his foot down on his wrist. Bishop screamed in agony, his arm now pinned between Poe's giant boot and the steel flooring of the Libra alley. Donovan grimaced at the thought of Bishop's pain and called off his burly friend. " No..don't stop now...I think my sinuses are starting to..clear up..heh heh", Bishop muttered. Donovan ran his slender hand through his sleek, blonde hair sighing. "I like you Bishop. I really do but your a damned liability more often than not. I'll give you one week to bring me my money plus another 5000 creds for the time you've cost me." With that, Donovan snapped his fingers and he and Poe walked back into the noisy bar. Bishop reached in his pocket and pulled out a red cigarette and lighter. He calmly lit it and inhaled. He then slowly rose to his feet , leaning his body against the outer wall of the bar. He stayed there for a long time thinking back on his earlier days as a smuggler, before the debts and late night beatings. Amazed that he considered beatings the norm he quickly shook the thought and began his long trek back to his apartment on the Aquarius platform. Th fabricated dusk sky was slowly shifting to night and it was all Bishop could do not to pass out as he reached the base of his apartment building. The building was taller than the rest in the area and his apartment had a pretty decent view of the platform. He didn't stop though. He was being tailed and he knew it. Unfortunately his current condition caused him to stand out among the crowded streets. Of course no one bothered to help Bishop and he certainly wasn't able to lose his pursuer either. I gotta lose this guy, he thought. With all of his remaining strength, Bishop quickened his pace making his way into the Dirty District of the Aquarius platform. Night clubs, strip joints, and all other forms of entertainment enveloped the area. It was one of the more popular places for the corporate workers to blow off some steam after their shifts ended. Bishop made it to main entrance of the Laced Leopard, a high class strip club. He signaled to the bouncer who let his old friend in without question. " Keep an eye out Tyler. Gotta tail. Could be trouble", Bishop explained to the overweight bouncer as he continued into the building. Tyler, obviously caught off guard by the information started to call out to Bishop but he was gone. Bishop stepped over to the bar ignoring the various nude women and the men that were drooling over them. The strobe lights worked against Bishop making him relive the headache from before. He sat at the bar and called out to the bartender. "Hey Pops! Double shot of whiskey...put it on my tab." "What the hell happened to you Bishop?" Pops asked. "Donovan. But don't worry I still got my looks", Bishop replied. Pops tossed Bishop a rag, " Clean yourself kid. Celeste will have a stroke if she sees you like that." Bishop began wiping the dried blood and grime from his face, " Did she already perform?" The bartender nodded his head and resumed his duties. Bishop downed his drink and waited for Celeste's shift to end. "Hey Pops! Let me get another one."
Montgomery moved on to the cockpit leaving Brandy with Brooks and a recruit that she had never seen before. Every time Brandy looked over her shoulder the creep kept smiling at her like she was a long lost pal. "Damn greens," Brandy muttered to herself shaking her head. Turning her attention back to the crate Brandy squatted down beside the broken corner where crystals still ebbed out. Among the yellow Brandy could see blue cloth. Slipping a pen from the inside pocket of her leather jacket she leaned forward using the tip to snag the fabric. She attempted to drag the clothe toward herself but it caught on the side of the box. Rolling her eyes in annoyance Brandy leaned back holding up her hands so that Brooks could spray the protective gloves onto her hand. When he'd given her hands a dowsing she waved to help dry them then reached for the scrap of fabric once more. Prying the fabric from the wood a bang sounded yellow granules blowing into her face. Brandy fell backward spitting and hoping that nothing had got into her mouth. "Shit, f-" Brandy stood and attempted to open her eyes grit fell from her lashes into them burning the delicate membrane. Brandy turned away from the crate staggering from the room and lurching down the hall in a desperate hunt for the galley. Finding the door she slapped her hand down on the button. Hearing the footfalls of Brooks and the recruit not far behind her did not slow her pace. Brooks pushed Brandy to one side and squeezed in the door letting out a yell of surprise. Brandy tried to force her eyes open stopping when she felt Brook's shaking hands on her cheeks and then the cool of refrigerated water being poured into her burning eye sockets. "Dawson," Brooks barked. "Call the victims unit and get Montgomery down here, there's someone holed up in the cool room, think she's a wilder." Brandy tried to jerk away from Brook's hand, but he held her face steady. "You can look in a minute, if you stay still long enough to flush your eyes out." Brandy grit her teeth listening to Dawson leave the room. When he finally removed his hand and the bottle Brandy stepped around him without a word. Her right eye had recovered enough to make sense of the room, her left was blurry. Brandy hit the button for the cool room and the doors hissed open. The woman trembled in the corner wrapped in a fire blanket and half hidden by packaged food. She pressed her back against the wall when the police officer entered the confined space. "You said the daughter killed the crew?" Brandy said in disbelief. How could a normal child be responsible when an wilder sat right her. Brandy felt she could see past all the snivelling and cowering. She hid because she was guilty. "No mám," Brooks said shaking his head. "Daughter admitted to the crime said she did it because if she hadn't they would have killed the wilder. When I came in this room door was locked." Brandy stared in disbelief, why the hell would anyone protect something so dangerous? How could a person with physic abilities be vulnerable. Brandy shook her head and holding her throbbing left eye she walked out of the ship to stand stunned at the dock.
Matthew Kane. Drifting across a starless sky, floating aimlessly through the infinite void, Matthew had given up. It was maddening, to be unable to open his eyes, to be unable to lift his arm or even mutter a few words. He'd been terrified at first, triggering a nurse to believe he was having a heart attack -which it certainly had felt like- and zapping him with an AED. He shivered, or at least he felt like shivering, it had taken him about a day to figure out that aside from his own thoughts, his heartbeat and his breathing, none of his muscles obeyed him anymore. To try and avoid insanity, he had attempted to recall what had brought him in this state to begin with. It had been to no avail. Not even the snippets of the nurses that had chatted at his bedstead, or the one visit his parents had payed him, revealed anything about how he had ended up in a coma. He'd only been made to feel bad, knowing that his parents had to work around the clock to pay for his treatment, even if that treatment only consisted of laying down and a heartbeat monitor beeping endlessly into his left ear. Bored endlessly by the dull, aggravating presence of his own thoughts he began to wish desperately for sleep to come. The air shifted. A cold, powerful rush smashed through the room, roaring like a tidal wave before washing over him. It felt like death. With a jolt, Matthew snapped his eyes wide open, the heartbeat monitor began to accelerate it's annoying, monotonous composition. He gasped for air, he began to feel his own skin again, only now realizing he hadn't been feeling it at all just moments ago. It felt strange, like being wrapped in a tight, thin foliage, stretched so much that he became confident it was about to burst. Even stranger were the odd clamps and electrodes that had been attached to him, he was just about to strip them away when a nurse came rushing in.typical "No, no, no, no. Leave those on," she said, pushing his hands away. She looked about forty and stared down at Matthew with cold blue eyes. Her brows were tugged upward in surprise. She smiled approvingly when Matthew ceased his attempts to detach himself from all the medical equipment. "Alright I am going to ask you a few questions. What's your name?" Matthew was confused that she asked him who he was, surely they would have some file on him? With a shudder he realized how hard it was for him to remember his name. He could almost hear the machinery of his brain grinding until finally, after what felt like hours, his consciousness provided the answer. "Ma- Matthew. Matthew Kane," he replied slowly, distrusting of his own words. "Excellent," the nurse smiled. -- After another hour of medical checks -the doctors seemed flabbergasted by his sudden recovery- he was finally allowed to leave the medical bay. He stumbled into the wall a good dozen times on his way to the checkout, he could tell by his own wobbling legs that the doctors had been telling the truth when they'd told him he'd been under for two weeks. He mindlessly stared at the TV screen above the reception whilst his checkout request was being processed. Apparently the station police was looking for some on-the-loose Wilder. "Kid!" Matthew looked down at the puffy man behind the counter. The man had sunken deeply into his creaking, second-hand chair. Matthew was unable to decide whether the man's fat belly was to blame or if the dullness of filling out forms all day had glued him to the vale plastic of his chair. "You're OK to checkout. Your parents have been contacted but they are still on their shift so you'll have to get home by yourself." Having said that, the man handed him a small checkout chip, spun around in his chair and began to tap away at his computer. "Hey, I don't have anything on me to take a tram or-" annoyed, the man whirled around in his chair once more and eyed Matthew. "Transport isn't my business, I suggest you take a walk." Matthew sighed but, realizing nothing would sway the man to show some kindness, began to saunter out of the hospital. Even though the sunlight was artificial, it still blinded him. Having known nothing but the blackness of his mind, the amount of colours, smells and sounds was overwhelming and he rushed to a bench just outside the hospital, managing to sit down just in time to keep himself from throwing up. Pale, nauseous, and stuck on a different district, Matthew almost began to long back to his comatose state. He let his eyes slide over the crowd that was going about its daily routine, imagining he would look quite dreadful enough for someone to come towards him and help him out. When that didn't work, he put himself back on his things and blended into the buzzing crowd. The padded blue outfit of a police officer caught his eye, he gulped then hurried himself over towards the man, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Sir, may I ask you something?" his voice gruffly from lack of use.
Jansen knocked on the metal door, every movement causing more pain in his shoulder. Dripping with sweat, his shirt was soaked with blood. He winced and held pressed on the wound. A female echoed from inside and said, "Who is it?" "Bertie, it's Jansen." He heard the locks click and the door opened. The elderly woman squinted through her glasses. "Jansen?" she said. "My dear, what happened?" "It's a long story. Look, I need some help." "Of course, come in." Jansen walked into the small unit. It was lit with a few hanging lights that didn't seem to reach every dark corner. The smell of dust and stew saturated the place. Bertie was a family friend that used to take care of Jansen when he was younger. She was from Virgo platform and was a farmer before the Pardosa family hired her as a caretaker. When his parents would deploy for long missions, Jansen would spend all his time with Bertie. Sometimes she would take him to Virgo and show him how the crops are planted and he marveled at how the farmers seemed so happy even though they had so little. She helped him onto the bed. "Let's have a look," she said, carefully removing his jacket and shirt. "Well, it looks like a clean cut. Missed the bones but it's gonna hurt for a few days. Let me get some water and we'll clean you up." Jansen could hear the running of water and the sounds of bowls and plates being rummaged through. "Thanks, Bertie," said Jansen. "I didn't know where else to go. Sorry it's been so long since I've been around." She returned and started cleaning out his wound. He winced. "What is time to an old farmer like me? I thought about you, you know, when your mother passed. Up until she died, she occasionally sent me updates on how you were doing." The pain in Jansen's shoulder was suddenly muted by a stabbing pain in his heart. "I wasn't there," he said. "Nobody wanted me there. I knew she was sick but my father sent a courier to tell me she was gone." Being around Bertie and thinking about his mother brought back too many emotions for him to handle. He cleared his throat and thought about Mitrata and the Wilder. Bertie sensed his uneasiness. "Well, look at you now, a police officer. Keeping the peace...," she said, placing a sticky liquid in the wound and closing the skin together. Jansen clentched his fists at the pain. She looked at him and continued, "...and disrupting it from the looks of this knife wound." "I probably won't be an officer for very much longer." Jansen leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I shot someone, Bertie." "Isn't that your job, to shoot the bad guys?" "Yeah, but this guy wasn't a bad guy. Well, he was a bad guy but he was a police officer like me." "Not very much like you if you shot him. I'm sure you had good reason." "There was this girl. There was something about the way she looked at me. She was different somehow. She needed my help and her eyes pleaded with me. I mean all the druggies and thieves and monsters and in the middle of it all, this girl. Nina." "Ah," said Bertie, "It's never wrong, Jansen, protecting the innocent things in this world. There are those who are going to look for the good in humanity and try to snuff it out. It's good people that stand in their way." She finished and covered his shoulder with some gauze. "There, that should do it." Jansen smiled and held her hand. "Thank you, Bertie, for everything." She placed a soft hand on his cheek. "You're a good man, Jansen. Your mother would be proud." For a brief moment he allowed the emotions to come flooding in and tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away and thought about how he was going to face Mitrata, and the Captain and if any of it would matter if the military was preparing for a war.
Stars shimmered like the lights of a thousand thousand tiny fires stuck the inky black cloth of deep space for and indeterminable distance around Zodiac Station. Thakaj, the icy yet mineral rich planet below, floated like some great titan as it bathed the hull of the station in gentle hues of white and blue reflected off the planets surface. Aside from the slow changes in the planets weather patterns and the random fluttering light of some far of star there was no movement. Space was a demonstration in endless stillness. The view screens on the Observation Deck showed as much to those few who were charged with constantly tracking and noting everything that went on in the space near Zodiac station. Each screen was accompanied by a number of various readouts and scan results, all seemingly jumbled together in a haphazard manner. Yet, to the eyes of the Observers, each had critical meaning. Even small fluctuations in the norms, if caught in time, could mean a difference tangible in the form of lives. -~<>~- “You have taken too much from us! We will never stop fighting you, never! Do you hear me?! We've come too far to turn back. This ends here!” Rex paused for a moment, inhaling deeply. All eyes were on him. The room was still, still as space. Then, in one fluid motion, he let them fly. The twenty sided day clattered onto the table, coming to rest with the side numbered twenty facing up. “Natural twenty!” Rex shouted with a fist pump. “I swing my great axe into the giant's skull!” The other four leaned back from the table. “Congratulations Rex,” Sam said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “You've saved us all yet again.” “I don't see how you guys play these games. They're so outdated.” “Oh come on Thane, you're just mad because you were the first one to die,” Amir said with a laugh. As the group began packing up their dice and putting away character sheets, a steady high pitched beeping noise cut through their chatter. One by the one, each of them fell silent and turned to stare at one particular sequence of flashing lights. Two short bursts of green, one short yellow, one long red. The pattern repeated again and again in a steady rhythm, all the while the high pitched beeps continued. The very air seemed to grow thick and hot as time slowed to a mere crawl. Two green, one yellow, one red, repeat. Suddenly, time came crashing back and, as one, the Observers flew to their stations. “Jeff check those readouts and log the data,” Rex bellowed. “Sir!” “Thane, I want scans on all three ranges now!” “Aye sir!” “Somebody get me Tombs now!”
Bishop woke from a deep slumber, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark atmosphere of his studio apartment. It wasn't the nicest apartment and was considered low end given its location on Aquarius but it was the closest thing Bishop had to a home in years. Something bumped into his side as he lay there. He lifted himself on his elbows observing the body that lay beside him. Celeste had pushed her buttocks up against him in her sleep. Her dark, wavy hair sprawled out over her pillow and she wore a slight smile on her strong but feminine featured face. Her hourglass-shaped body, only half covered by the thin sheets shifted again on the foam mattress. Now one of her high-arched feet was exposed as well. Bishop chuckled to himself. As long as he had known he she always uncovered one foot in her sleep. Bishop climbed out of bed careful not to wake Celeste and made his way to the bathroom. His body quickly reminded him of the fight from before. He was stiff and sore from head to toe but Celeste had patched him up as best she could. Of course she ripped him a new one for getting hurt and not being more careful but he knew that she cared for him. He looked in mirror watching his reflection look back at him. His olive skin was sporadically disturbed with raised knots and dark, greenish-purple bruises. Celeste had stitched the cut just above his left eyebrow; it seemed out of place. His face, framed by his thin chinstrap beard also included a busted lip and a deep bruise on his jaw line. I still look good, he jokingly thought to himself. Bishop was an attractive man and he knew it but he wasn't the kind of guy to be boastful about it. He splashed water in his face and headed back into his main living space past the kitchen nook, past the sleeping beauty, sat down at his com-desk. It was by far the most advanced piece of tech in his apartment as well as the most expensive. Its sleek frame was made of a plastic/steel hybrid and was built into the wall. "System on", whispered Bishop. Immediately the emptiness of the sleek, black desk was illuminated with a myriad of small white lights--each one a holographic button. The wall came to life as a large holographic screen appeared already displaying data and information is a light blue hue that lit the dark apartment. Bishop began a surf through the Z-Net, bypassing secure sites and gathering intel and uploading it to his personal secured database. There was still nothing new on the Pyson that the Marine task force brought in. To most people it was a rumor. To Bishop it was a cold, hard fact. He had a guy inside the Marines that provided intel when requested. An alert stopped Bishop in his tracks; the incoming message was from another smuggler named Miles. "Bishop?” Miles began. " There's gonna be a meeting. Hutch and me will be there. You in?" Bishop sighed, " You know how I feel about the whole team thing. Too many smugglers in one place is a bad idea." " Something big is going down man. This is serious!" "Yeah well you can count me out of this one Miles. Just fill me in on the details later." Bishop was about to disconnect the link when Miles said something that caught him off guard. "Bishop! Sebastian will be there ", Miles added. Bishop stared blankly deep in thought. Of all people, why on Zodiac would his old mentor be at one of those meetings? Bishop tapped his fingers on the com-desk, internally debating with himself. "Send me the coordinates", Bishop finally said. The message link ended with a dull beeping sound confirming that Bishop has indeed received the information he needed. He quickly completed his work and commanded his com-desk to power down. He sat for a moment with his head in his hands. "Son of a bitch."
Jansen walked toward the Zodiac Police Station, the blocky building contrasting against the digital sky. Four hours earlier, he had shot a police officer while protecting a Wilder. Officer Mitrata would have had plenty of time to receive medical care and give a full report to Captain Reynolds. He wondered if perhaps a sniper on the roof was ready to take him out right now. No, he thought, that would be excessive. If anything, he figured they would be waiting to take him into custody, shocked that he gave himself up willingly. Upon scanning his ID, the door slid open and Jansen walked inside. Officers and investigators, criminals and civilians were milling about in the large atrium. Walking up to the checkpoint, Jansen scanned his ID and walked through the filtrator. An officer blocked his path. “Officer Pardosa?” he said. His clearance had probably already been revoked and the ID scan had triggered a silent alarm for his immediate arrest. Jansen sputtered, “Yes?” “Captain Reynolds wants to see you immediately,” he said, as officially as possible. “Is there a problem?” “Just come with me,” he said, waiting for Jansen to follow in front of him. Walking over to the nearest grav-tube, the officer waved his ID in front of the black panel. The doors slid open with a hiss. “Let’s go.” They stood in the tube, silent. For a moment, Jansen thought about running. Thought about grabbing the officers’ laser pistol and holding him hostage until he could escape. But escape to where? Zodiac was a large station, but not large enough to disappear completely off the grid and certainly not large enough to live the rest of his life in peaceful anonymity. The doors slid open and they walked onto the floor of the pit, the large room where Jansen had stood earlier in the day before everything went to hell. He avoided eye contact with any of the other officers. He stared straight ahead into the back of the officer escorting him to his fate. Jansen recalled the ancient Earth civilizations that would escort prisoners to their deaths, usually gruesome and public. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the end of the room and Captain Reynolds office. The officer opened the door and motioned for Jansen to walk in. This is it, he thought. He walked in the office and stood at full attention when he caught the stare of Captain Reynolds. Wait, was this an angry stare? No, this was an annoyed stare, one he has seen many times. “Well, what the hell happened?” Captain Reynolds said, removing his glasses and setting them on the desk. “Well, sir, we—“ “I don’t even care!” he said. “Why isn’t Tyson Epolipse in custody and where is Mitrata? I should have known I couldn’t count on you to do this for me, Pardosa. Sending you was a mistake and it’s one that I don’t intend on repeating.” Jansen’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t believe that Captain Reynolds didn’t know what had happened. Mitrata should have been back by now. He wouldn’t still be in the hospital for a laser wound in his arm. Jansen had traveled all the way to Virgo to avoid the main hospitals, but Mitrata would have gone directly to the hospital on Scorpio, or even back here to Aries, but Captain Reynolds knew as much as he did about Mitrata’s whereabouts. “I’m sorry, sir,” Jansen said. “Mitrata and I came up against some resistance during our apprehension. We were separated.” He figured he could buy himself some time to figure out what was going on. The truth can wait a little while longer. Captain Reynolds shook his head. “I don’t know, Pardosa. I’m going to send some officers to locate Mitrata. The last thing we need right now is for the smugglers to have a hostage. This was our best chance to capture one of the higher-ups within their organization and now the smugglers will be extra careful.” “I’m sure we’ll find him, sir,” Jansen said, but he wasn’t sure he meant it, or even wanted Mitrata to be found. “For your sake, you better hope we do. In the meantime, I don’t even want to see you. Go take a day off and stay the hell out of my hair. Now get out of my office. Dismissed.”
Trash bins exploded every which way when Estelle bolted into the main road, and people scattered, shouting in alarm when they spotted her blinding white eyes and silver mane. "Halt!" the Policeman shouted once again, firing another bolt at her, which she deflected. Pressure and gravity were one of the most constant things in this world, but with her, it was the opposite. It was always changing, fluctuating and making the ground crumble or drift away from her feet. Light as a feather or heavy as a stone giant, she bounded through the streets, unaware of where the man was herding her until it was too late. She spotted the main headquarters for the police department, and before she could avoid it, another bolt struck her square in the back. Damn. Now you've really pissed me off! Rage boiled in her slender frame as she tumbled to the ground, feigning weakness, and when the policeman was silly enough as to come too close she punched the air, a wave of pressure rippling off her fist and sending him flying back into a wall over a hundred feet away. The shockwave shattered most of the windows in several buildings, and he slid to the ground, stunned. It was only because of his body armor that he'd even survived, but she couldn't guarantee that he didn't have any internal injuries. "Hey! That's the Wilder!" the voice had her whirling around, and she spied two surprised-looking guards at the front doors. When she hissed, her feet leaving the ground until she levitated, they quickly fled inside, sounding the alarm.
The air shimmered ever so slightly where the man's personal cloaking device warped the light around him, rendering him almost invisible. He gave one quick scan of the walkway before flicking the switch on his belt and stepping back in to the narrow alley across the way from the Zodiac Command Center. The air seemed to ripple and twist for a moment before revealing the man, thin briefcase in hand. He had exchanged his suit and tie for what was commonly known as a Ghostsuit; a military grade, form fitting, highly advanced suit that rendered the wearer invisible on a number of scan ranges as well as concealed body heat signatures. The suit also had a few different functions wired into the strange gray and black mesh of its fabric that allowed for things such as the personal stealth field and a couple of other goodies that would confound would be assailants. Much like his blur-mask, it was quite illegal for a civilian to own. He followed the alley straight back and around the corner to the rear of the building. There, just as he had known they would be, were a pair of heavy steel doors set at an angle leading down into the building's sub-basement floors. They had been, of course, welded shut many years ago. The man reached up and tapped a button on the collar of his blur-mask, shifting his vision into the infrared spectrum. Just as expected, he could see the tell tale beam of the camera that rested about twelve feet above the doors. The man stood just beyond what he estimated to be the camera's maximum view range and watched it sweep slowly back and forth across the narrow alley. Back and forth, back and forth. The man crouched down and, on the last pass, sprung forward into the air in a motion that would have almost been too quick for normal eyes to follow. He landed silently directly below the camera and immediately snapped open the narrow briefcase. The screen imbedded into the thing flickered on and a hologram keyboard was displayed on the fabric below. The man began typing at inhuman speeds. Despite being such an advanced military installation, the man had come to find that the security algorithms were almost childish. It was mere seconds before he had remotely accessed the controls for the camera above and, after inserting a simple line of code, had established a loop feed. Whatever security room the camera was linked to would likely see a brief flicker before the image of empty alley returned. It would be seen as little more than a fluke. The man reached to his belt and grabbed the small vibro-cutter he had packed. The steel was thick and it would take some time. He clicked the device on and set the small wheel spinning. In a shower of sparks, he began cutting through the weld.
Jansen stopped at his desk and grabbed his personal Z-Net access card before heading out of the station. He decided not to worry about Mitrata and instead find out more about Tyson and Nina Epolipse. He knew Q4 and if he could find more information on the brother and sister, perhaps he could track them down but he still wasn't sure what he would do if he met them again. The building rumbled and Jansen saw two officers running toward him. "What is it?" asked Jansen. "It's one of the Wilders we've been looking for! We need some fekking backup!" One of them said, running deeper into the building. Jansen drew his pistol and ran toward the front doors. The ground was littered with shattered glass and people were running for cover. He saw the Wilder, floating above the ground creating a noise that sounded like a pulse engine. Her eyes were as white as the clouds that projected above the city and her long silver hair billowed around her. She was the same age as the Wilder he had met in Q4, but there was no innocence or benevolence to be found. He walked out into the courtyard, gun drawn, and approached the Wilder. "In roughly thirty seconds," Jansen said, "about fifty Zodiac Police are going to come pouring out of that building. I would suggest you surrender now and avoid any more..." Jansen glanced around at the chaos around him. "...any more of this."
A shudder rocked the building as Asher and the marines that accompanied him walked down the hall of the Command Center towards the briefing room where Tombs was supposed to meet them. Mason braced himself against the wall, though he did not feel the ensuing wave of psychic energy that assaulted Asher. “What the hell was that?” asked Mason as the lights flickered and his hand drifted subconsciously down to his side. “Check your weapons marines, we may be under attack.” Asher took a step back in the direction from which they had come. “No. It was a Wilder, Sergeant. A very strong one. Very dangerous.” The marines all eyed the Psyon warily. “Wilder huh? Well I'm sure the Station Police have it under control. Best we not get involved.” Asher closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I'm afraid not Sergeant. I think she will kill them all.” With that, Asher began taking quick strides down the hall back towards the entrance to the Command Center. “I suggest you all go to briefing. Please tell Under-Director Tombs that I will be in shortly.” Mason started after the Psyon, “Wait just a minute, you can't just run off! We've traveled halfway across the galaxy jus-” Asher turned and fixed Mason in a stare so cold that it managed to silence even him. “That was not a suggestion Sergeant.” The Psyon turned once more and disappeared around the corner.
Matthew Kane "Sir, may I ask you something?" his voice gruffly from lack of use. The officer half turned to look down at Matthew, a look of annoyance settling over his features as he motioned to be given a moment. He put the other hand up to the side of his helmet. "Copy HQ. You have a good one. Myers out." He turned to face Matthew. "Look I just got off duty. What do you want?" He immediately started to regret having approached the policeman, turning around now however would only wind him up in trouble so he stood his ground. "I need a ride home," he said. "Ehr, I mean, I just got out of the hospital there is no one to pick me up, nor can I stay and I don't have any creds on me." The annoyance that he spotted in the man's face didn't bode too well, "look if you could maybe, you know, drop me off somewhere close to Virgo, that'd be great," he continued, the confidence beginning to trickle out of his voice. The officer looked Michael up and down for a moment, a frown growing on the tight features beneath the visor. After a few moments of appraisal the man heaved a sigh. "Virgo eh? You one of those farmers then? I guess its not so far out of my way." Matthew flared his nostrils in relief. The officer smiled, "well, let's go then, don't want to be late for dinner." Matthew trailed behind the tough-looking man. Apparently he wasn't the only one that thought that officer Myers was a particularly muscled man as the sea of people parted several feet in front of him. "So young," he heard a lady whisper as he walked by. Only then did it occur to him that his sickly appearance, combined with his police-escort was likely giving off the wrong impression. They reached the officer's hover bike. "Cool!" Matthew said as he let his eyes slide over the polished, chrome bike. He couldn't wait to find out how fast it would go, though he considered that Myers -being an officer- wasn't likely to push the throttle unless there was an emergency. Just then, what looked like a walkie talkie, began to beep on his utility belt. He gestured for Matthew to stay put as he tuned in on the right channel and, bringing the small speaker closer to his ear, listened in. "All officers be advised, we have a Wilder on the loose in sector A7, two two niner, immediate backup is required." Myers clicked his tongue and looked from his walkie-talkie to Matthew, then up to the air. "I am afraid you will have to get another ride, kiddo," he said. Matthew let out a slightly exaggerated sigh in reply, "I can just stay at the bike. Besides, weren't you off duty?" "I was," Myers corrected. His eyes flicked over to Matthew and began to drill into the boy's, "listen, you stay at the bike and don't do anything unless I tell you to, understand? We're dealing with a Wilder here kid, there's no room for mistakes or mischief." Matthew nodded fervently and, having received Myers' permission, hopped onto the bike. With a bang and a swoosh they drove over the small, police-only lanes that were spread crisscross throughout the city. Within minutes they'd arrived at the scene. "about fifty Zodiac Police are going to come pouring out of that building. I would suggest you surrender now and avoid any more..." Myers jumped of his bike and readied his gun, all the while motioning for Matthew to stay back. "Situation?" he breathed as he trotted up beside officer Pardosa. Matthew, stayed put behind the bike but peered over the edge of it every now and then, it didn't hurt to look...
Jansen noticed another officer speed into the square, he seemed to be carrying a civilian. The officer didn't look familiar to him, but the department had hundreds of officers and Jansen stayed away from base as much as possible. The civilian cowered behind his bike as he took up a flanking position. "Situation?" he said. "Wilder, and a nasty one! We have an officer down over by that building!" Jansen yelled over the wind. "Hold your fire until backup arrives!" Jansen motioned for some civilians to get inside of a nearby building. He saw the civilian watching from behind the bike. "Tell that guy to stay down, we don't know what she's capable of. Where the hell is our backup!" He looked over his shoulder but didn't see any movement from inside the building.
Estelle watched with what could barely be called amusement as several officers surrounded her, everyone else in the nearby vicinity running for their lives. But of course, her face remained emotionless, a mask that left everyone guessing what she would do next. "In roughly thirty seconds," Jansen said, "about fifty Zodiac Police are going to come pouring out of that building. I would suggest you surrender now and avoid any more..." Jansen glanced around at the chaos around him. "...any more of this." Estelle turned her gaze towards the man, not even batting an eye. "I killed fifty in one fell swoop the first time." she said coldly. Memories of the black hole she had first summoned resonated through her mind. her parents... her home.. everyone in the surrounding area had been swallowed up in a black abyss... leaving her lying in the crater to run away in abject terror. Then her eyes flickered. The Psyon was nearing. For a moment, a sneer seemed to cross her face, then it was hidden behind the mask again. He couldn't be stronger than her -at best he was her equal, but she dared not doubt his abilities. Never becoming one of them.... The hum only grew louder as her rage intensified. No, she would never become a Psyon. Never! The very buildings groaned, and one could hear the creak of metal bending. Power leaked off of her in waves now, pulsating out to circle around, then shrink back in. Dust billowed in the air, then tiny chunks of stone. All were crushed into tiny pebbles, zooming about her body like a swarm of bees.
It was as Asher had suspected. The Wilder seemed to have turned the area in front of the police station into a demonstration in panic. The girl at the epicenter of the problem looked young, far too young to have all these weapons trained on her. Asher knew the reputation people like him had. Those possessed by such abilities were seen as far more dangerous than they were useful. The sad truth was that Asher was one of the lucky ones. He had been trained practically since birth to control his abilities. This Wilder, this girl, was just one of the many that weren't caught up in the Directorate's Psyon program. Without the intense discipline and training that Psyons received, Wilders would usually experience uncontrollably powerful emotions that would cause their power to manifest in devastating displays. If he could calm her down, reason with her, perhaps he could spare some needless bloodshed. Asher Calmly straightened his blue and gray uniform and placed himself between the doors to the station and the Wilder with all the confidence of a man strolling through a park full of children. He glanced back over his shoulder towards a pair of officers and what looked to be a rather sickly civilian. He fixed the officers with the unblinking, unreadable gaze for which Psyons were known and in a voice like thin silk dragged across hard steel he said, “Please holster your weapons. I'll take it from here.”
Gemini was only a short ride from Aries. Brandy sat in the back of the patrol car with her hand held tightly over her right eye. It wasn't the burning that made her face scrunch up, it was knowing that the wilder would be transported to the hospital, where she could endanger patients and medical staff. Brandy had received treatment at the hospital, her left eye would recover, the doctor worried that her right eye might be left with sixty percent vision. She had been expected to stay at the hospital, but Brandy couldn't stand the thought of lying around playing helpless Mary when she had things to do. At her desk Brandy begin the business of working out reports when an officer dashed down the hall shouting. Brandy stood up and adjusted the patch over her eye. "Now what?" she hissed and hurried out to the hall. "There's some wilder going postal, come on Ryce pull yer finger out," Brooks yelled. Brandy muttered a string of curses under her breath and decided she'd try and shoot the damn wilder if the chance presented its self. Somehow getting ahead of the crush of officers scrambling for the door Brandy unholster her pistol and stalked out her eyes winddening as she approached the situation. "What the hell is going on here?" Brandy approached two male officers slowing. “Please holster your weapons. I'll take it from here.” said another man. Brandy shook her head and laughed looking the man up and down. She lowered the weapon, but didn't put it away. "And what are you going to do? Negotiate with her? What's she going to want, a kitkat and a box of lego?" Brandy sneered there was only one thing you could do with a girl like that. The other wilder came to mind and she frowned reassuring herself that they were all dangerous.
Jansen stared at the wilder floating in front of him. She looked at him with blank eyes in a way that Jansen assumed was contempt. How did she get this way, he wondered. He remember the Wilder he had met earlier and the burnt table. He recalled the way Tyson Epolipse had tried desperately to calm his sister. How many times had he been unable to stop her? Was he protecting the world from her wrath or just protecting his little sister from the rest of the world? A world that hates them, he thought. Looking at this Wilder, Jansen wondered if perhaps she never have a big brother to protect her and she had grown callous to the world. "I killed fifty in one fell swoop the first time," she said. First time? This isn't going the way he wanted at all. He was up against a powerful Wilder that could crush him at any second and he no backup except one officer who moonlights as a taxi service. Fantastic, he thought. Jansen looked around the square looking for something to use to his advantage when something caught his eye. A man was calmly walking across the courtyard toward the Wilder. As he came closer, Jansen noticed the military uniform but couldn't see any weapons of any kind. He wanted backup but an unarmed solitary military grunt wasn't going to stop her. The man grew closer to him and Jansen was about to yell for him to stand down before he got hurt but suddenly, he stared at Jansen. It was the eyes that stared into his very being and all the chaos in the square faded briefly. Jansen had seen those eyes before and it never ended well. This man was a Psyon. “Please holster your weapons. I'll take it from here,” he said. His voice eluded a calm demeanor that made Jansen more than a little uneasy. All he knew was that now there were two powerful beings in front of him and if the odds were horribly against him before, they were nigh impossible now. The fact that a female officer came running into the square didn't make him feel any better. Her weapon was also trained on the Wilder and she lowered it when the Psyon arrived. "Stop her before anyone else gets hurt," is all Jansen said. He took a step back and lowered his gun. Laser pistols weren't going to help them anymore. If there was going to be a non-fatal conclusion to this standoff, it would have to be the enemy of my enemy, he thought. It would be up to this mysterious man standing in front of him. This Psyon.
Estelle watched as the Psyon approached, standing between her and the officers' headquarters like some kind of guardian. She really could care less at that point. She hadn't asked to be chased here. She'd never even provoked the man other than him just finding her last hiding spot due to a slip up on her part! That had gotten her two shots in the shoulder and back too! When one of the officers blanched at her crude statement, it appeased her anger slightly. Maybe if she just handed over the injured one and left they would leave her alone. Flicking her wrist, Estelle turned her head and watched the injured man suddenly hover, then as he was tugged within a yard of her. "Internal injuries. Best get him to a hospital before the effects wear off." She said lowly, then waved a hand, and a ripple of pressure ran back and forth over his body, stalling the blood flow and staying death from taking his life. Then she sent him to hover near the officers. She said nothing about why she had decided to let him live. Just stared at them for a moment longer before turning her attention to the Psyon. If he hadn't provoked me he wouldn't be in that state. Next time he won't be so idiotic. "I expect I can't just walk away from this can I?" She said, her blank gaze locked with his piercing eyes.
"I expect I can't just walk away from this can I?" She said, her blank gaze locked with his piercing eyes. Asher took a step towards her, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. He felt a flood of emotions from the girl but, more than anything, he felt her fear. She feared that she would become like some storybook monster or, maybe even worse, feared that she would become like Asher; purged of all emotion and left as some sort of human husk only good for military use. "You are afraid. Do not be." Asher took another step. He raised his hands to about waist height and shower her his open palms, demonstrating that he was unarmed. Simultaneously, a invisible barrier took shape around the two of them. "You need help."
"You are afraid. Do not be." Asher took another step. He raised his hands to about waist height and showed her his open palms, demonstrating that he was unarmed. Simultaneously, an invisible barrier took shape around the two of them. "You need help." Estelle's eyes widened a hair when he said she was afraid. But she was not surprised. Well, possibly she was, but at the moment in time she seemed conflicted between normal human impulses to disbelieve that someone could sense her emotions so easily, and to believe that he could. Psyons and Wilders alike -or something in between like she was, for she refused to call herself a Wilder- could sense each other's psychic energy like radio waves. Emotions may be that way for him too. Then her teeth gritted and she forced those thoughts away. If he thought she was scared, then she looked weak! Weakness had to be eradicated from her vocabulary! "Aren't you ever scared, Da?" she'd asked her father one day after he'd coem home looking particularly beleaguered. The man chuckled, turning his warm dark eyes to look at her. "Yes, dear. But being scared isn't a bad thing. it's giving into fear that makes you weak." Estelle shivered violently when the memory faded, then blinked when she realized her feet had touched the ground. The whirlwind of stones was slowing down. When she looked up at the Psyon again, her eyes flickered between dark brown and blinding white -like a bad TV screen. "Why?" she just managed to get out. Why shouldn't she be scared of him? Why did she need help -and from him? Why shouldn't she just end it all?
Another step. Half seen specters of a man with warm, dark eyes flashed before him and words echoed in his mind. It giving into fear that makes you weak. The girl slowly lowered to the ground until she was no longer floating. Her eyes flickered with the power she seemingly barely held in check. Now the bits of stone and rubble and comprised her defensive whirlwind even abated slightly. Asher took another step, putting himself almost within arm's reach of her. His platinum hair was tossed about by the energy of her psychic power as he knelt down so that they were closer in terms of height. Her unasked question ran through his mind. Why? Why shouldn't I be scared of him? Why do I need help - and from him? Why shouldn't I just end it all? Asher locked his gaze on to hers. His emerald eyes flashed with a secret power for only an instant and the bits of rubble and stone that circled her fell to the ground. Tentatively he reached a hand out to her and his voice echoed in her mind. Do not let it rule you. Do not give in to the fear.
Do not let it rule you. Do not give in to the fear. Estelle swallowed, body frozen stiff as she watched him get closer and closer. Past experience screamed for her to lash out and run, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake so that they would leave her alone, but another small part of her, a part that still remembered her parents, kept telling her to give in to authority at last. That they might really be able to help her if she did. "Estelle, we both know that you will go for help if you need it. You're the most responsible person I know -even compared to your mother!" her father chuckled even as mom threw him a glare. She was still looking for the papers that she had somehow misplaced. For several painful seconds, she remained still as stone, even as he disrupted the psychic energy surrounding her and made her protective shield of flying pebble and rubble fall away. That part nearly threw her back over the edge, nearly had her exploding with fear, but she just managed to keep it in check. Don't give in. his words echoed again. Shuddering uncontrollably, her hair and eyes slowly returned to normal -both a dark brown that appeared deceptively normal compared to her previous behavior. Her eyes had locked on his hand now, and looked more like a spooked deer's. Then she mentally shook herself and closed them, forcing her body to remain still even as it began to rail even more strongly now for her to run. Estelle felt his hand brush her face, and she opened them again to meet his emerald stare. Most people would find a Psyon or Wilder's terrifying, unnerving at least, but calm finally stole over her the moment she saw them. Tension left her body. I won't.
Please holster your weapons. I'll take it from here, Agent Myers frowned and was about to fine him with some reprimand when his superior, Agent Pardosa, obliged. Respecting, but nevertheless questioning his superior, Myers followed Jansen's example. "I don't trust him," he hissed towards Jansen. Then his gaze steadied on the Wilder in front of him, he couldn't help but feel seriously outgunned. The ease with which the Wilder girl was able to manipulate her surroundings was terrifying. Her transformation into a ghost-like shape, pale and devoid of compassion or recognition, only worsened the predicament. Matthew peeked over the edge of the bike. A faint throb seemed to emit from her, only to completely disappear when a man in a military suit walked up to here. The shimmering of the air, followed by a muffled thud told Matthew that the man had put some kind of shield up, even though he couldn't see it with his eyes. The weakness in his limbs faded, overruled by curiosity. A Wilder and a Psyon? Now that was a rare sight. Slowly, he sneaked out of cover, his eye never straying from officer Myers and the other two policemen. Something had changed in the Wilder's posture, her hair transformed from a straight silver into a wavy brown, the hellish white shining from her eyes retreated and was replaced by a much warmer, deep brown. She looked oddly familiar, but it couldn't possibly be... Matthew forgot about stealth and took a few bounding steps forward. "Estelle?" he wondered, softly at first. Then louder, "Estelle? What are you doing here?" Myers jerked his head around when Matthew called. He began to regret taking the kid with him. He motioned wildly for Matthew to stay back, but then he realized the kid might actually know the Wilder in front of him. He turned around completely and strode towards Matthew until his face was only inches from the kid's. "You know her?" he demanded. Wilders were known for being emotional, if this kid knew her -in a good way- he could be able to help restrain her. "Answer me!" he barked. Matthew flinched, sweat beginning to appear on his forehead. He peeked over Myer's shoulder, the girl surely looked like Estelle, the girl he used to play with on Virgo. "Estelle?" his eyes locking desperately onto her's.