New Frontier Ch 1: Reign of the Supermen

[The first Galactic Republic]

"The pioneers gave up their safety, their comfort, and sometimes their lives to build our new west. They were determined to make the new world strong and free - an example to the world. Some would say that those struggles are all over. That all the horizons have been explored. That all the battles have been won. That there is no longer an American frontier. And we stand today on the edge of a new frontier. The frontier of unknown opportunities and perils...

...I'm asking each of you to be pioneers towards that New Frontier. My call is to the young in heart, regardless of age. Can we carry through in an age where we will witness not only new breakthroughs in weapons of destruction, but also a race for mastery of the sky and the rain, the ocean and the tides, the far side of space, and the inside of men's minds? All mankind waits upon out decision. A whole world waits to see what we shall do. And we cannot fail that trust, and we cannot fail to try."

- John F. Kennedy

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=380710

[The first Galactic Republic]

Reserved.

[The first Galactic Republic]

It was a normal day in the Seattle branch of the Unity Pacific Northwest. Kendall Mueller, code name "Friction" sat at her desk doing paperwork. Much of her work as a superhero was actually dealing with a lot of red tape, though that was mainly because her career was full of red tape. She sat at her desk, her sad little desk with a decafinated cup of coffee as the only thing in the office that brought her even a tiny amount of joy. Surrounding her were some of the most legendary superheroes of the American West Coast. They wouldn't give her the time of day.

Sitting across the desk was one of the most respected heroes on the entire West Coast. Arclight. One of the first superheroes to ever receive powers doing so in 1996. He had the ability to control electricity. An attuned Arclight had developed his powers considerably. He had been responsible for countless successful operations across the West Coast, and many of the superheroes he has hand picked for his team have themselves become very successful. Arclight was inspirational on paper. Friction wished she could say they were on good terms. She wished she could say that. She noticed him get up and walk out of the office, but he soon came back in through the door closest to her. This wasn't going to be good.

"Hey Friction. Getting your so called work done are you? Handling something important?"

"Yeah, yeah Arclight I'm handling registration for the case last wee-"

Arclight stepped forward and put himself right on the desk, staring down at Kendall.

"I don't like you. I don't like your stupid face staring at that computer screen. If we lived in the wild, I'd eat you. I don't care if we're part of the same tribe, I'd eat you. I'd go out of my way to eat you. I'd say a tiger got you. Oh Friction? Yeah last time I saw her a tiger got her. She will be missed. I hate having to stare at your dumb face across the desk. The fact that you became an actual superhero is infuriating. People like me we had to work for it back when. Now they just let anyone in here like you. You're pathetic. You give whatever sap your power comes from a bad name."

Kendall tried her best to stay calm. Acting up somehow was exactly what he wanted. "You know if I'm such a fuck up, If I'm such a lowly and useless superhero, then what's a big hero like you doing wasting your time talking to me? If you're such a big important deal then it's sad you spend your day thinking of someone like me? Isn't it?" The two stared each other down. "That's not how you saw this conversation going is it?"

Arclight nodded his head. "Alright. Have a nice day Friction."

"Have a nice day Arclight."

Arclight picked up the cup of coffee on the desk and tossed it on Friction's shirt as he calmly walked away.

"GUUAAH! AAAUGGHH!"

---

OOC: Posts in italics like this are flashback posts.


Sgt. Alkeyeva! Your actions shame the entire Red Army! If the Commissar head about this, I couldn't vouch for what will happen to you. Pick up your DAMN rifle and fight!

A young sergeant chased after his counterpart. "We've known each other for years. We fought together at Kursk! At Budapest! I've never known you to run or back down from any fight so what are you doing now! Refusing to fight? From you of all people? It could be considered treason!"

The man kept walking. The sergeant jogged after him. "My uncle disappeared in the purges Alkeyeva! I know lieutenants who disappeared in the purges! If our own government could do this in peacetime, what would one sergeant be in wartime? I'm looking out for you. The officers don't have to hear about this."

The man finally stopped walking. He turned to the other sergeant. "So stop before they find out."

"Look at this shithole!" the man responded. "Vienna! Once great city! Heard about it even living in bumfuck nowhere in Kazahkstan! Now it is a pile of rubble. The war is over Vorshyin! No Germnay hasn't surrendered, but this isn't war anymore. This is butchery. I won't be part of it. I fought in the war. War is over."

"You know damn well the Commissar won't have any of that bullshit. What do you think acting like this will achieve?"

"Lass mich gehen! Gaaah. Lass mich gehen!"

The two men turned. Another soldier was grappling with a teenage girl, slowly dragging her towards a nearby building. He seemed oblivious to the two men. The struggle ended as the soldier kneed the woman in the stomach. He forced her off her feet and carried her over to the building as she stuttered and cried.

"Oh Christ." Vorshyin said nervously. He tried to give a disapproving look to the soldier but was ignored. He stood sheepishly as the soldier passed him by. Alkeyeva however came up to the man. He brought himself the man's side not directly cutting him off but catching his attention.

"Enjoying your conquest Skvortsov? Entertaining the city locals?"

The man turned to Alkeyeva. He was of a superior rank but the man cared little. The breakdown of ranks in the middle of warfare. The silence was broken only by the woman's tearful wimpering.

"Fuck...off Alkeyeva. Can't I forget you for just a few minutes? Not all of us are satisfied by war alone."

Alkeyeva drew his pistol and put it solidly on the man's chest. Vorshyin instinctively drew his pistol but didn't raise it, as if he couldn't believe what was happening.

"Put the girl down Skvortsov."

The soldier threw the woman down on the ground placing his boot firmly on the back of her head. He took his own pistol out and pointed it Alkeyeva. He held it nervously while Alkeyeva kept his pistol steady.

"I'm not into sharing Sergeant. You want me to go to the Commissar?"

Alkeyeva holstered his pistol, then delivered a punch to the man's head forcing him to his knees. He gripped the man's head with both hands and kneed him in the face. Two soldiers came to the scene and pointed their sub machine guns at Alkeyeva. Vorshyin pointed his pistol directly at Alkeyeva. "What the FUCK are you doing! You really are a traitor."

Alkeyeva was unmoved. "Control your animals Vorshyin, or I will do it for you." The woman stood and ran, slipping into rubble.

"Have some respect for the men! Alkeyeva! Have some respect for the RED ARMY! You shame the entire Soviet Union!"

"Fuck Soviet Union! My parents were peasants in Kazahkstan under Russian Empire. When revolution happens they remain peasants. There is no such thing as Soviet UNION. Only Russian boot. That has not changed and here it comes down on Eastern Europe. You are having your way with a bloodied corpse. This is pathetic."

"This is your last chance Alkeyeva! Put your weapon down and we can still forget about this! You will die if the Commissar finds out!"

Skvortsov rose to his feet. "We don't care what you think Alkeyeva. You are a monster. You are addicted to killing."

"To war! To WAR! This isn't war! This is butchery. You don't care about the hunt. Even the kill. You just want to have your way with the bloodied corpse! I won't be part of this! If this is how you people are then I leave."

"Alkeyeva! I have to tell the Commissar about this! Think about what you're doing!" As he kept walking Vorshyin began to curse to himself and ordered the men to bring him a radio.

Skvortsov laughed angrily. "If I ever find that woman again, I'm taking one of her ears. For you Alkeyeva! For YOU!"

The sergeant stopped only to roll his eyes and kept walking.

[MightyQuinn]

It took little work for Mishima Hana to find a flight plan for a corporate jet bound from Tokyo to Seattle. Slipping onto the airplane was also simple. No, the difficulty would lay staying out of the way of the few passengers and crew. One might suppose that an invisible person would have no trouble at all in remaining undetected, but there were a number of things that could give away her presence. She didn’t want to give the slightest sign that she had left Japan, therefore, she had to remain alert and actively out of the way of everyone on board the aircraft….

The hours of the flight seemed very long, although in reality the amount of time for the journey was quite typical in speed and duration, but Hana did not succumb to the weariness. Arriving in Seattle, apparently undetected, she disembarked with ease.

Prior to departing Japan, Hana had converted a portion of the funds in her secret bank accounts into gold bullion. If her security wasn’t as good as she believed it to be, then those on her trail might correctly guess that she had gone abroad but would not be able to follow an electronic trail to her destination. All around the world, there were businesses that bought and sold precious metals. As long as one party did not outrageously try to cheat the other, there was very little need to make extensive records of the transactions.

It took some time, going to different businesses, but Hana soon had ten thousand dollars in cash money in her hands. This would likely be enough to start a modest self-perpetuating operation. A little bit of private detective work, as long as it wasn’t related to Unity or the local government, didn’t trouble her conscience at all. But for now, she’d cautiously find a place to live in peace and quiet, until the action started.

After a couple days of consideration, Hana rented an apartment near 12th Ave S. and S. Washington St. under the name Hannah Nakamai. The changed spelling of her name would indicate that she might come from a family already established in the United States. The majority ethnic populace in the neighborhood appeared to be Vietnamese, followed by Chinese. Best if she did not try to fit in too much, rather than pretend to be something she was not, the locals would tag her as a phony. Still, stereotypical racism would allow her some cover as a Caucasian or even a Black police officer might not have the ready ability to distinguish one Asian person from another, because "they all look alike".

The next day, sipping green tea in the garden space, after her furniture had been delivered, Hana opened her mind to the information she had once scanned about Unity personnel in Seattle. The local newspapers, barely still in operation in the digital age, but quite adequate along with television news afforded her enough information to know that her files, though not quite complete, was likely current enough to give a reasonable assessment of the situation in Seattle.

She needed to start developing contacts, too. Well, that would likely be easy. All she need to do was acquire information that someone would be willing to pay for.

[Charellia]

Solarmancer's mind was always working, always judging the tactical situation, weighing options. If a superhero spends enough time in the field they get that way, and after a few years in Special Operations, Solarmancer had seen more action than heroes many ten years his senior. By the time the plane touched down at the Unity airstrip just outside of Seattle, he had already carefully assessed the tactical environment. Overcast sky, light rain. No direct sunlight, low UV index. Control tower could supply supplemental energy, but amplitude would insufficient to fully compensate. Weak radio and cellphone signals from the city. Could be useful at closer range. Overall, a tactically poor environment.

Good thing I'm not here to fight then, he reminded himself. After three months on assignment it was easy to forget that elite mercenaries and rogue supers weren't lurking behind every corner. The mission was over now, though. Internal Affairs would be taking custody of the titanium crate in their cargo hold as soon as they landed and his unit would be discharged for some much needed R&R.

A group of grim looking Internal Affairs Operatives were waiting on the tarmac. Each, Solarmancer knew, had been given specific powers to contain the former Unity scientist now sealed inside the titanium crate. The crate had been specially designed to hold him, of course, but nobody was willing to take chances with a man who could fell buildings with his bare hands. In under ten minutes the crate had been loaded onto a second plane and was on its way to who-knows-where, by way of good riddance.

The Special Operations heroes, in turn, were picked up by a black SUV with the Unity logo on it and driven into the, to regional headquarters where they would be officially relieved of duty and assigned lodgings in the city for the next two weeks. While they were there, Solarmancer would need to see somebody about getting a new Charger Vest. One touch from the rogue scientist and the battery packs had melted like sticks of butter. It was not standard piece of equipment, but Solarmancer had faith that headquarters would be able to acquire a new one before his two weeks were up. Hopefully sooner. He felt vulnerable without a reliable source of electromagnetic energy. So, while the rest of the team waited for their official orders, Solarmancer ventured deeper into the headquarters of the Pacific Northwest, searching for somebody to talk to about replacing the damaged equipment.

[MightyQuinn]

Seattle was rather quaint for a city. There were modern and less than modern locales, often side by side. The historic and old fashioned areas were largely clean and well maintained. There was some poverty, but there were religious institutions and some government sponsored refuges that could largely absorb the “down and out”, as well as the functionally deranged, that clung to the sides of society. The poor could often be seen milling about Pioneer Square and such places in the daytime, but the crowds of the club-goers put the less fortunate somewhat less than willing to stay outdoors at night and so they looked for indoor shelter.

It was dusk and the clubs along 1st Ave South were preparing to open. A police cruiser slowly drove through the area, making sure that the beggars had largely vacated and that the various club bouncers were not being over-zealous in encouraging them to move on. The sidewalks were being swept of dirt and hosed down with sprays of water. Sound checks of the Grunge, Rock and Blues bands began pushing sound into the street, where the streetlamps were just starting to glow with a soft yellow-white light, which would be adequate for vision as night darkened the sky.

Hannah Nakamai, now working ‘under the table’ as a spy for a less than distinguished private detective agency, spoke with a client in the Central Tavern.

The client was a tall, young and slender woman with soft auburn hair and freckles, named Julie.

The client wanted to know what a man she’d been seeing and partying with did as a job. She would be meeting with her man there, in The Central Tavern, later that evening. He never talked about his work, he would brush it off as, ‘nothing special’ or just clam up and be silent for a minute until the silence became uncomfortable and she had to change the subject. Maybe she could have lived with this if she thought of herself as only a party-girl, but she said that she’d really started to care for him and wanted to really let him know that she was falling in love with him. The thing was, she’d also seen her older sister hook up with a mystery man who later had later turned out to be in organized crime and had been responsible for her sister’s death.

Hannah’s job would be to find out what the man did for a living and let the client be able to decide if she ought to continue the relationship or break it off with the man.

While Hannah waited at another part of the tavern, she surreptitiously watched as the place became more active. There were some interesting people, perhaps some future contacts, that deserved future, personal investigating. Especially the bartender, as his eyes had that look of constantly evaluating everything in his line of sight….

[Vaquas]

"And you would say that this behavior is... common?"

Corbin Strauss sat in a dark leather recliner, its material far outdated by the wares sold by countless furniture parlors. A small line formed in his forehead as the uncomfortably large woman positioned across from him elaborated on her self-diagnosed "Paranoia Disorder".
In all actuality, it was clear that she wasn't paranoid, just severely stressed.
He glanced at his watch and stifled a groan.
"Miranda, have you considered that what you're experiencing is simply the side effect of a larger problem more encompassing issue? Perhaps an inability to take some time away from work for a while? Or-"

A faint buzz against his left leg.

"One moment Miranda."

He hastily assessed the message.

"Outside. I know you're with a patient. But you're going to want to see this."

An internal discussion resulted in the desire to see what exactly was important enough to interrupt him in the middle of a session.

"I'm terribly sorry Miranda but it appears I'll have to cut this short. Have a wonderful day, remember to relax and come back next week."

He ushered the woman out of his office before returning and unlocking his 3rd desk drawer.
His .38 revolver fit quite snugly against his hip, creating a sense of comfort and protection.
From what, he dreaded to think about, for he realized that the only credible threat to his existence was the Unity government.
Something much closer than he had ever anticipated, with his marriage to Jorgen and all.
He left his main office and made his way to the front.

"Don't you have a client Dr. Strauss."

He temporarily paused to look at his secretary.
Alain had proven to be a true silent workhorse in the year she'd had the job. Her incredible ability to manage the paperwork and schedules of an entire Psychology practice was quite stunning, and despite her quiet and unassuming demeanor, it was clear that she was more attuned to office affairs than she let on.

"I do Alain. Jorgen says he's outside with something important. Any idea what that could be?"

She eyed the wall in the left corner of the room and tapped her pencil in a formulated pattern.

"I'd say you're going to be either excited or furious. I'd hope the former. Have a nice day Dr. Strauss."

"You too Alain."

The two had a silent game going. They'd never acknowledge the other's unregistered power directly, but they'd help each other out because of it. Known only to Corbin, Alain could see anything, through walls, clothes, invisibility, any of it.

It came quite in handy.

As Dr. Strauss stepped out of the slick grey building and stepped onto the outside concrete, he laid eyes upon what was to be a turning point in his life.

Jorgen, arms crossed, back against a lamppost,
Stood next to a car thats price was surely on par with the expense of his entire practice. Compact, black, unnecessarily customized. It was Jorgen's wet dream and Corbin's nightmare.

"Surprise! Guess who got a promotion?!"

"Whoever tricked you into buying this car. We've discussed this-"

"Don't worry about it, HQ bumped me up 300,000$ dollars, I can cover it. Besides, even if-"

"What the hell? What could possibly move the Bureaucratic Asswipes to even consider increasing your salary by so much?"

It clicked.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Look, I know this wasn't what you needed right now, but I couldn't exactly refuse-"

"Oh great, you recognize that this is DIRECTLY contrary to what needs to be happening right now. Maybe its not too late to call them and tell them that "Helios" has a family to look after."

"You know I can't do that."

"... Where did they say they need you to go?"

"Seattle. There's some fishy stuff going on, they just want more heroes in the area."

"I'm not relocating."

"You'll have to, I can't just leave you in New York, what about John?"

"He'll stay here with me. They'll only keep you there for a year or two. I can handle it."

There was a pause. Jorgen knew he was serious.
Time to compromise.

"Come with me for the first month or two."

"I'm running a practice here. I can't exactly just pack up and leave my clients."

"Leave Dr. Yao in charge."

"That's protocol for emergencies"

"If this isn't a family emergency I'm not sure what is."

Another pause. Corbin knew he was serious. Time to compromise.

"A month. Then I'm coming back to New York.
This is ridiculous."

[Charellia]

"Here?" Solarmancer suggested, picking a venue at random.

His companion, Slipstream, looked around Pioneer Square and shrugged."Good as anywhere."

Solarmancer and Slipstream joined the crowd milling outside the Central Tavern and were quickly admitted. The bouncer eyed them cautiously as they passed. Although they were dressed in civilian clothes, the heroes still projected an air of confidence and power that made those tasked with keeping public order nervous. They looked as though they were ready for a fight, which after three months on the trail of a Unity defector, they always were. The fact that they were on vacation, and in fact trying very hard to relax, would be entirely lost on the casual observer.

After dropping off their things at the Unity barracks, the heroes had all split up into twos and threes to take in the various flavours of the city night life. It wasn't easy for professional superheroes to vacation. The only option was total immersion. They were going to relax by any means necessary. As they stepped into the bar, Solarmancer had to suppress his instinct to analyze every angle. He had already noted the number of exits, number of patrons, and the shrewd-looking bartender, who he knew had marked them the moment they walked inside, before he reminded himself that he was only supposed to be having fun. He wondered if his grandfather, Charles Franklyn, had felt the same way every time he went out in public. Probably. Superheroes in those days didn't get vacations.

"I'll get the drinks," Slipstream offered. She made her way toward the bar at what somebody who didn't know her would call a hurried pace, while Solarmancer found them a booth with a good view of the clientele. They were still too much in combat mode to turn their backs on a crowded room. But that would soon change. Slipstream returned with two shots of rye and two beers. A doctor would probably say that this was not a healthy way for the heroes to decompress, but it was fastest, not to mention the most fun. "To relaxation." Slipstream raised her glass.

[Wilderam]

To any of the five people in Lucas's immediate vicinity, he was just another teenager watching the Unity base.
While most people considered Supers relatively mundane, so long as you stayed on their good side, there were still many people, particularly of the younger demographics, who idolized the peacekeepers. A tiny percentage of them would end up as Supers themselves, but most just got disillusioned as life took it's rightful place.
Maybe Lucas looked a bit old to be avidly waiting for a glimpse of a flashy uniform, but no-one payed this any heed. Some people never grew up.
Of course, Lucas's contemplations of the rather conspicuous building in front of him were less than complementary. It wasn't that he hated Unity, he had just been chased enough to know that he wasn't welcome. Nor did he want to be.
Still, something kept him frequently visiting the resident outpost of whatever city he was near. Typically he chose a rather dreary day, when less people were likely to be about, and stayed for all of ten minutes. His powers still occasionally exploded on him, and he didn't want to risk it in a heavily populated area.
As though in response to his thoughts, the sphere of violet gas, stuffed into his pocket, seemed to loose shape and expand. Sending a few disciplinary thoughts it's way, and tightening his hand Lucas forced it to compress again. A cloud of purple gas was a clear "Come get me" message, especially outside what was probably a hive of Unity activity, though one really couldn't tell from the street. For all Lucas knew, the construct, it's metal now gleaming a molten orange in the sunset, was deserted.
He casually checked his watch, a cheap plastic analogue model that had seen better days, before turning back to the building. What money he could get was better spent on food, and stores at the fringes of cities typically didn't have the affluent stock of the more centralized commerce. The watch did, however, tell him that he should leave soon, get back to the less populated areas of the city. Still, perversely, he stayed, just in case.
Really, it was irrational. Even if his father was around, the chances of Lucas recognizing him could be rounded down to zero by any primary-aged mathematician.
Lucas sighed, his breath dissipating into the cool breeze which was starting to blow it's way into the evening. Three more minutes.

[MightyQuinn]

"Here?" Solarmancer suggested, picking a venue at random.

His companion, Slipstream, looked around Pioneer Square and shrugged."Good as anywhere."

Solarmancer and Slipstream joined the crowd milling outside the Central Tavern and were quickly admitted. The bouncer eyed them cautiously as they passed. Although they were dressed in civilian clothes, the heroes still projected an air of confidence and power that made those tasked with keeping public order nervous. They looked as though they were ready for a fight, which after three months on the trail of a Unity defector, they always were. The fact that they were on vacation, and in fact trying very hard to relax, would be entirely lost on the casual observer.

After dropping off their things at the Unity barracks, the heroes had all split up into twos and threes to take in the various flavours of the city night life. It wasn't easy for professional superheroes to vacation. The only option was total immersion. They were going to relax by any means necessary. As they stepped into the bar, Solarmancer had to suppress his instinct to analyze every angle. He had already noted the number of exits, number of patrons, and the shrewd-looking bartender, who he knew had marked them the moment they walked inside, before he reminded himself that he was only supposed to be having fun. He wondered if his grandfather, Charles Franklyn, had felt the same way every time he went out in public. Probably. Superheroes in those days didn't get vacations.

"I'll get the drinks," Slipstream offered. She made her way toward the bar at what somebody who didn't know her would call a hurried pace, while Solarmancer found them a booth with a good view of the clientele. They were still too much in combat mode to turn their backs on a crowded room. But that would soon change. Slipstream returned with two shots of rye and two beers. A doctor would probably say that this was not a healthy way for the heroes to decompress, but it was fastest, not to mention the most fun. "To relaxation." Slipstream raised her glass.

Hannah had decided early on in the evening to watch the bartender as he watched the customers enter the tavern. For the most part, nothing perturbed him. He’d given her an appraising glance when she’d come in, but there seemed to be an understanding that she was primarily there as an observer. He’d probably seen more than his share of P.I.s and undercover cops. Therefore, when his gaze was more probing than usual, she took notice. A man and a woman had just arrived, and it wasn’t her client and the subject.

He was young looking, with a clean-shaven face, blue eyes and short black hair. Of midling height, a little below average. Not particularly good looking, but with a charming smile…, he had, what was the word…, charisma. Hannah never forgot a face, or even a portion of a face. Her mind super-imposed a masked face from an old photograph onto the features of the man and the similarities were obvious. Of course, it could be mere coincidence, the young man might not be related to the Bannerman at all, but the quick-yet-natural-and-fluid-movements of his companion told Hannah what kind of company he was keeping.

So, the next question was, “why were they here?” Hannah couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that they had not been sent to get her, but it didn’t seem likely. Her secret access to the Unity data network hadn’t alerted her to any threats, so unless that had been totally compromised, she could likely go about her business tonight without worry. Speaking of which, the client, Julie, and her man had arrived.

Julie and her man exchanged a kiss that would have been more appropriate in private, but maybe that was Hannah’s Japanese sensibilities talking to her. They looked to be a quite compatible couple. So, he wasn’t, at this time conversing with the other couple, which meant he either didn’t know them or was concentrating on Julie and not acknowledging his compatriots. If he didn’t know them in civilian garb, and he was super, then he was a rogue, but Hannah had never seen his picture and couldn’t identify him. If he wasn’t a rogue, then the mystery remained to be explored.

The blues-rock band, Sufferin’ Succotash, launched into it’s first musical set with their cover of Robert Johnson’s, "Hell Hound on My Trail"....

[The first Galactic Republic]

"Alright heroes we have a new case!" A short and weathered man walking into the Pacific Northwest Branch office said in a loud but bored manner. He shifted through several papers with urgency, yet also mechanical nature. It was clear that this man was beyond liking or hating his job. The part of his mind that could feel these things about an occupation had long been eroded away.

"Code 3, downtown. Rogue with unknown powers rampaging around the city. We need an agent."

The man's face perked up just a little. "This looks like a job for Arclight!

Another man came up and briefly whispered in his ear. The small excitement the man's face had displayed disappeared.

"Never mind. It seems like Arclight is currently deployed. We need another agent."

Behind an oddly outdated computer monitor popped up Friction. "Captain!"

"Come on anyone? Anyone going to take this? Someone from Arclight's team?"

"Captain!" Friction sprinted to the front of the room, using her powers to stabilize items on people's desks as she bumped into them. "Captain!"

"Anyone want this? Anyone? Please someone before this woman gets to me."

"Captain."

The Captain finally turned to Friction and only then realized she was right next to him.

"Heh. You would say that we're friends right Friction. Kendall?"

"Um sure Captain?"

"Great. Now I can't legally say this but I'm just going to say this as your friend. I didn't specify, but when I said I needed a hero, I didn't mean a fuck up!"

Friction's face bittered a little, but she willed her excitement back. "Sir I can do this."

"Anyone besides Friction who takes this mission gets a one time 15% bonus." A number of heads perked up.

"No no no. Come on Captain. You know I can do this. That was a long time ago what happened just let me take this. I need something! I'll be out of your hair. This will be good for both of us!"

The Captain tried to give Friction an annoyed look, but it looked like his normal bored look.

"Kendall do you realize that if you fuck this up you will be reassigned to Greenland?"

"Yes sir."

"You will live in an Igloo."

"I'll take that risk sir."

"You will spend your time scraping penguin shit off the ice."

"Penguins don't live in the northern hemisphere sir."

"Really! Correcting me Friction!"

"Sorry sir. Yes sir."

"... Gah! Fine. You can take this. Here are the files for the case."

The Captain handed her the files. Friction went back to her computer and started packing.

"Friction!"

"Yes-yes sir?"

"You fuck this up Friction! You FUCK this up!"

"I'll do my best sir."

---

"Do you know who I am?"

The question came from a short nervous looking man who stood in a guarded stance near a small table holding various different chemicals. The question was directed towards a much more imposing man who stood barring the door, pointing a pistol at the speaker.

"Yes. Dr Boris Mueller. Born 1900 in Alsace-Lorraine in Germany. Obtained PHDs in various fields from the Ludwig Maximilians University of Munich. You were involved in various scientific projects during World War II while working for Nazi Germany. After the war you disappeared."

"And was hunted down by the KGB. I know who you are. The Hawk of Eastern Europe. A KGB operative. Alexei Alexeiv Alexiovich, though this is certainly a false name given by your handlers."

"You know much about me Dr, but nothing relevant. Interesting that a former Nazi like you would wind up working for a Polish resistance movement."

"What can I say. After the war I fled from the Allies. I feared for my life. I soon found out however that the United States was looking for former Nazi scientists for its own scientific programs. I needed to attract the attention of the CIA without the KGB noticing. The CIA supports anti-Soviet groups across the world. My hope was that they would investigate this one and find me."

"But that plan failed. The KGB has found you. You know Russia could have used someone of your scientific ability as well."

"It was not my intent to spend the rest of my life in a closed city. But I now see I have no choice but to go with you. I won't try to resist. Just... just let me finish what I was working on. I am dealing with very volatile chemicals you know."

The man pulled out a small remote and readied the button. "I'm afraid things won't be going as you planned agent." The man's voice was somewhat more confident, but really almost everything he said was dull and monotone. Only a thick German accent to his Polish made his speech interesting.

"One press of this button and the entire room fills with deadly chemicals. We would both die. I'm in control now agent. I assure you that I won't be dragged to Russia to face execution."

The agent was unmoved. He eyed the Dr briefly sizing him up.

"Once again Dr you know a lot, but nothing relevant. Russia really is looking for scientists. You really would have a new life there, but that doesn't matter now. We both know you won't press that button. After all Dr, going into hiding after the war? Falling in with a Polish resistance group just to be noticed by the CIA? You want to live Dr, and you won't push that button. When I found your location I anonymously informed Israel of your whereabouts. Mossad agents are coming as we speak to bring you before a Jewish tribunal. I guarantee you Dr you will die there, and I gave them a good head start."

The Dr kept his hand on the button though he was noticeably shaken.

"But it's your lucky day Dr. Your dream of coming to the United States can be realized."

There was suddenly the sound of a distant explosion. The Dr became very nervous. The agent wasn't bluffing. "Wha-what?"

"I'm not going back to Soviet Union Dr. I have long been looking to defect to the United States, and you are my ticket there."

"Was? Ich nicht- I don't understand?"

"I have my reasons Dr. Now come with me and we can both come out of this happy. Stay here and be dragged to your execution. Your choice."

The Dr slowly placed the remote back on the table. He started to step towards the agent. Suddenly the agent grabbed him and shoved a pistol in his face.

"Walk forward with me Dr."

[MightyQuinn]

"My baby and I, we had a good life, we didn't have nothin' hold us down.
Yeah, we'd come home from work to each other, then we'd go out on the town.
But, then she'd see her friends with children, an' feel her own clock countin' down."
Sufferin' Succotash - 'The Bio Time Clock Blues'

Inwardly, Hannah groaned. Maybe she was in denial, as she still had years before she would be close to running out of viable ovum. Also, to hear a man complain about the effects of how a normal life was turned on it's head by a woman's perception of how time was slipping away seemed ludicrous. She grudgingly acknowledged that there was a reality behind the lyric, so maybe the songwriter could be forgiven.

Julie, the client, and her man, Raphe, seemed to be enjoying the show. Julie had said that she didn't want to be in the position of choosing between a career and being a mother. She had decided that it was more logical for her to be a mother while she was young and would have the energy and health to withstand the raising of children. She would, when time permitted, get a degree online and find some professional fulfillment when the children had gone off to college. Would Raphe be the father and the family's support?

Hannah looked at the couple she believed to be Unity supers. There were six empty shot glasses and six empty beer bottles at their table. They were clearly here for "r and r". They'd danced in place at the table during one of the more up tempo songs. At this time, the man, seated and smiling, had his attention on the woman as she let her hair down and swayed slowly to the current song. It wasn't a lap dance, but one could tell that she didn't mind dancing for him.

Without warning, the sounds of four explosions went off in quick succession, moving closer from up the north and into the area of the square. The last one close enough and loud enough to be heard by the band, and caused them to stop their playing. Stunned silence, confusion and some fear took hold of the scene. Some of the Central Tavern's patrons shrank from the sounds and headed toward the rear exit, with the bouncers seeing to their safety as they left. Some of the patrons sat in an alcohol slowed state, fuddled and wondering why the music had stopped. A few others crowded at the front window, looking out.

Hannah watched Julie and Raphe. He held Julie protectively and she allowed it. It appeared that Raphe wasn't one to panic at the first signs of trouble. Hannah liked that. Hannah had committed herself to watching Julie and Raphe, and then following Raphe after Julie and he parted for the night. That would likely be Hannah's actions for the night, baring the need to stop an assault or murder, if one seemed likely, in her vicinity. Hannah took a brief glance at the other couple, the likely Unity supers, and hoped that they had their "sobriety pills" with them.

[Vaquas]

Corbin Strauss found himself growing fond of Seattle.
Despite the crime rate, the absence of his core group of friends, and the lack of work for him to do, it was rainy, which was always a plus, and he was never running out of things to do.
Just the other day he'd tried acupuncture.
Never again would he pursue acupuncture.
The Sommelier crowd in the city, if there ever was such a thing, quickly welcomed him as one of their own, giving him access to a whole new variety of West Coast Wines previously untasted by him.

Jorgen Snapped him out of thought.

"We're here. Bring me lunch from that Deli if you feel like being extra nice today."

"Not a chance. Go inside, I'm sure some guy in a suit's waiting for you."

As Jorgen exited the vehicle and approached the Unity Building, Corbin admired the building.
Large.
Imposing.
Grey.
"Similar in many ways to bureaucracy" he thought to himself.

Being someone who hid his power illegally, normally he'd try to stay as far away from Unity Headquarters as possible.
Today he had no fear.
As Jorgen went inside, Dr. Strauss too exited the vehicle.
He walked to a nearby wooden bench, placed before a large fountain with some meaningless quote emblazioned on a bronze plate.
As he sat down, he registered the presence of another on the bench.
He was silent for a few moments before glancing over.
A Teenager.
Possibly Unity.
Probably not.
What would a little conversation hurt?

"What brings you to the local government stronghold?
You work here?"

[The first Galactic Republic]

An armored van with the Unity Security logo drove down the streets of Seattle, driving only slightly faster than the average vehicle as it tried to move around the crowds of pedestrians who thought they owned the city streets. As it neared a street corner a blonde woman with long curly hair stepped out of the back wearing a skin tight black outfit with dark carbon fiber plating. She wiggled in it. It was tighter than she wanted it to be. She spent more time at the desk than the fitness center.

"You're tracking me. Pick me up when I have the subject detained."

"Yes sir. We'll follow protocol shitstain."

Friction choked down frustration as the van drove away. She flexed her arms and readied her abilities. Bright energy surrounded her hands and then disappeared.

She turned to a computer on her arm. "Track target designation "0037-1331-Seattle"."

"Target is moving away from you, east, 100 meters."

"Acknowledged."

A map appeared on the computer screen. "You just mess this up you mop headed fuck."

Friction should've known better than to not check her gear before the mission, though she had no idea when someone programmed her computer under her.

She ran down the street dodging into the back alleys. She sprinted into the street and saw her target. A man in a hooded jacket causing various cars and streetlights to explode into a cloud of smoke. The man moved erratically swinging his arms violently and explosions materialized all around him. Friction ran towards him.

"Stop. Unity Security!"

---

"Stop the damn car! Pull over!"

"Ha haaa ha!" An empty whiskey bottle flew out of the window of a mid 1930s Ford towards the pursuing police cars. "I hate cops! I hate whiskey bottles with no whiskey in 'em. I don't stop for things I hate!"

The car swerved violently off the road and into a field. The two police cars came after it driving through the crops as the lead car swerved from side to side.

"Boy hand me dat der gun. Make yerself something useful."

A twelve year old boy reached into the back seat and pulled out a Thompson sub machine gun.

"Hah cows! Cows!" The car drove past a herd of cattle. "You're all cows!"

The inane statement was followed by the man taking the gun and pointing it out the window.

"I hate cows!"

The man fired the gun, which had been live the whole time, at the herd of cows. The car then drove straight through the herd of cattle. One of the police cars hit an injured cow and violently flipped over. The other swerved to avoid it but kept pursuing the lead car.

The two cars kept driving through the field until the lead car violently came to a stop. The police car narrowly avoided running into it but failed to realize that the car stopped to avoid a creek. The police car drove into the creek, with the police officers struggling to exit the car. As they climbed out of the creek the man stood over them. He fired wildly not even bothering to correct his aim as the kick caused the barrel to rise. The first few shots however were dead on and hit the police officer right in the abdomen. He fell over dead. The man then fired at the next police officer, the bullets tearing through his knees. He fell into the mud.

The man walked down into the creek, the boy following after him. The police officer tried to struggle to his feet, desperately grasping for his pistol.

"Sir. Please don't."

The man unloaded into the police officer. He fell still.

"You see that boy."

"Sure did Uncle Jake." The boy was disturbingly only slightly shaken by the ordeal.

"You tell me what that officer died for boy."

The boy thought for a second. "I don't know uncle. What'd he die for?"

"Follow me boy."

The man walked towards his car and opened the trunk. He took out a crate and haphazardly shot it apart with his Thompson. He reached in and took out a crumpled biscuit.

"This boy. He died for a biscuit. See they say bootleggers are gone, but they're wrong. Since FDR went to war with dem Japs there's been a ration. Government tells people what they can use. How much they can eat. It's up to people like us to give people what they deserve."

The man closed the trunk. "Police man don't like it, but they can take it up with my fancy *cocks gun* com-plaint dep-art-ment."

"Did my papi really use to be a bootlegger uncle Jake?"

"Sure did. Your father was one of the worst "gangsters" on the west coast. The money that man moved. You know boy when I found out I had to take care of you I thought about just shootin yah. Getting some cheap dog food. But you're really turning out to be something useful. You'd make your father proud."

"You got a funny sense of humor uncle Jake."

"Yes I do boy. My jokes are the best they is. The best they is. Now help me with dem bodies."

[MightyQuinn]

An armored van with the Unity Security logo drove down the streets of Seattle, driving only slightly faster than the average vehicle as it tried to move around the crowds of pedestrians who thought they owned the city streets. As it neared a street corner a blonde woman with long curly hair stepped out of the back wearing a skin tight black outfit with dark carbon fiber plating. She wiggled in it. It was tighter than she wanted it to be. She spent more time at the desk than the fitness center.

"You're tracking me. Pick me up when I have the subject detained."

"Yes sir. We'll follow protocol shitstain."

Friction choked down frustration as the van drove away. She flexed her arms and readied her abilities. Bright energy surrounded her hands and then disappeared.

She turned to a computer on her arm. "Track target designation "0037-1331-Seattle"."

"Target is moving away from you, east, 100 meters."

"Acknowledged."

A map appeared on the computer screen. "You just mess this up you mop headed fuck."

Friction should've known better than to not check her gear before the mission, though she had no idea when someone programmed her computer under her.

She ran down the street dodging into the back alleys. She sprinted into the street and saw her target. A man in a hooded jacket causing various cars and streetlights to explode into a cloud of smoke. The man moved erratically swinging his arms violently and explosions materialized all around him. Friction ran towards him.

"Stop. Unity Security!"

The shockwave from a fifth explosion shattered the thick plate glass window at the 1st Ave S. entrance of The Central Tavern. The tavern goers near the window fell back from the front as the shards of glass blew into the establishment and a number of them sustained only minor cuts, thank goodness. The Tavern bouncers actively began encouraging and herding the patrons out the rear exit, toward the alley that serviced both 1st Ave. S. buildings and the businesses on the Alaskan Way. Among the evacuees were Julie and Raphe.

Hannah cursed herself as she lost visual contact with them. That was her fault. Given the circumstances, she decided she would send a text to Julie, message explaining how they'd been separated and that Julie had Hannah's word that she would continue the case at no extra charge. What was done was done and Hannah hoped that Julie would be forgiving. What to do now was to assess the situation in the street and see if she could help minimize the potential loss of limb and life among the civilians in the area.

Hannah had also lost visual contact with the pair that she'd pegged to be Unity supers. Where they were and what they were doing couldn't concern her right now, unless they were watching her, which a quick scan of the room told her that they were not. The Central Tavern's barkeeper had begun working with the bouncers to usher people to safety and had deserted the bar. The only thing to do was to duck out of the way of the security cameras and hope that no one reviewing the video would notice that they never recorded her leaving. Then, with a prayer to her ancestors, she ghosted.

With the window to the avenue broken and essentially gone, Yūrei leapt out through the opening , to assess the tactical situation.

A lone female Unity operative in a black armored skinsuit had just called out and was running toward the likely cause of the explosions.

The suspect, in a hooded jacket, turned to face her. His movements were jerky, as if his body was not quite under control. Either he was a drug or alcohol rattled rogue, or heaven forbid, a recent D.A.S., a Drug Activated Super. In Japan, new DAS were often called "Tetsuo" after the character in the movie, "Akira" whose drug activated latent psychic powers became incredibly destructive and nearly uncontrollable. Fortunately, to date, no DAS had yet exhibited nearly that much power.

Invisibly watching, learning, assessing, Yūrei waited to see if she could positively effect the outcome of the situation.

[Charellia]

Solarmancer and Slipstream were making a great effort not to notice what was going on around them, otherwise they would have recognized the danger much quicker. Between the liquor and the loud music they failed to recognize the first explosion, or even the second. On the third blast, Slipstream stopped dancing, freezing mid-motion. Solarmancer leaped to his feet, wobbling slightly. With the fourth and loudest blast, the music stopped. People were crowding around the window, looking for the source of the noise. Solarmancer, however stayed where he was, listening, trying to guess where the next blast would come from. Each percussive shock had been more powerful than the former. They were getting closer. The next one would be...

"Everybody get down!" Solarmancer shouted, just before the front window shattered.

He ducked down, throwing up his hands to shield his face from flying shards of plate glass. With a bang like a gunshot, Slipstream shot toward the civilians by the window. Alcohol had slowed her reaction time but she was still able to pull three people to safety before the glass struck them. Unfortuantely she was struck by several small shards in the process.

Solarmancer gasped as she skidded to a halt next to him (no more than a second later) with blood running down her forearms. He appraised the injury quickly, through bleary eyes, but then remembered the pills in his back pocket. He pulled out a bottle with several small translucent capsules and popped two into his mouth. It was never a good idea to take more than one sobriety pill at a time, but he'd had a lot to drink and needed to regain his full faculties as soon as possible. He passed the bottle to Slipstream, his head already clearing, then leaned in to take a second look at her injuries. Several glass shards were embedded in the flesh of her lower arms, but no major arteries seemed to have been struck, so she would not need immediate medical attention.

"I need to pull the glass out, hold still."

Slipstream extended her arms. "Just do it before the pills kick in." She gritted her teeth as her colleague deftly plucked the glass from her skin. He wasn't certain he'd got all of it, but a Unity doctor could clean her up properly later.

Bouncers were now herding people toward the rear exit, away from the explosion. "Hurry up!" one shouted at the supers, barely suppressed panic making him unnecessarily gruff.

"Do we look like we need evacuating?" Slipstream snapped back, waving her Unity badge in his face. The bouncer nodded, looking greatly reassured by the presence of Unity agents, and went back to shepherding the other patrons toward the exit. Slipstream turned back to Solarmancer. "Go out into the square and assess the situation. I'll check the other buildings and make sure everybody gets out safely." Solarmancer nodded and she shot off with another bang.

Solarmancer ran for the front of the tavern and leaped through -- unbeknownst to him -- the same window Yūrei had passed through only moments earlier. He emerged into the street, scanning for the source of the danger. It was not hard to find it. A man in a hoodie was moving erratically down the street, causing explosions seemingly at random. Solarmancer had a brief flashback to an incident several months ago in Croatia involving a DAS with similar powers. He sincerely hoped that this rogue had not gotten his powers from the same source, but now was not the time to speculate. A woman in a Unity Security uniform was running up the street toward the rogue, ordering him to stop. Solarmancer was behind the rogue, opposite from the uniformed hero. Wishing that he had his charger vest with him and/or was fully sober, Solarmancer sprinted down the street after the rogue super.

[The first Galactic Republic]

"Stop! Surrender!" Friction sprinted at the assailant.

"I don't want to hurt you! You don't understand!"

The man waved his arm once more and a car next to Friction exploded into a cloud of smoke, knocking her on her stomach. The cloud of smoke drifted towards her. "Gah that smells like burning garbage."

"These aren't my powers! This isn't me!"

Friction rose to her feet. "It's normal to not have control of your powers when they first appear. If you'll just come in we can help you-"

"NO! Your not taking me in! I'm not one of you!"

The man threw another explosion at Friction and then turned into a cloud of smoke himself. He drifted over to a fire escape and then reformed. He began running up the building.

"Hey stop! Damn monkey!"

[Wilderam]

Corbin Strauss found himself growing fond of Seattle.
Despite the crime rate, the absence of his core group of friends, and the lack of work for him to do, it was rainy, which was always a plus, and he was never running out of things to do.
Just the other day he'd tried acupuncture.
Never again would he pursue acupuncture.
The Sommelier crowd in the city, if there ever was such a thing, quickly welcomed him as one of their own, giving him access to a whole new variety of West Coast Wines previously untasted by him.

Jorgen Snapped him out of thought.

"We're here. Bring me lunch from that Deli if you feel like being extra nice today."

"Not a chance. Go inside, I'm sure some guy in a suit's waiting for you."

As Jorgen exited the vehicle and approached the Unity Building, Corbin admired the building.
Large.
Imposing.
Grey.
"Similar in many ways to bureaucracy" he thought to himself.

Being someone who hid his power illegally, normally he'd try to stay as far away from Unity Headquarters as possible.
Today he had no fear.
As Jorgen went inside, Dr. Strauss too exited the vehicle.
He walked to a nearby wooden bench, placed before a large fountain with some meaningless quote emblazioned on a bronze plate.
As he sat down, he registered the presence of another on the bench.
He was silent for a few moments before glancing over.
A Teenager.
Possibly Unity.
Probably not.
What would a little conversation hurt?

"What brings you to the local government stronghold?
You work here?"

Lucas had been sitting at the bench for longer than he had originally intended, and had gone into the somewhat comatose state of staring, enthralled, at the fountain opposite the one behind his bench, nothing the elegantly and smoothly paved path separating them.
The dripping water acted as a focus point, it's calming sincerity and constant flow luring his focus from everything else, placing Lucas in a half-state of consciousness where he was mostly unaware of the continuing flow of the world around him.
Lucas was rudely and untimely jolted out of this blissful state by a man's voice, emanating from distressingly close proximity. His body jolted awake, like a corpse conducting a titanic electrical current.
Not thinking entirely clearly, he answered with the first thing that came to mind, his brain moving in an adrenaline-induced whirlwind.
"Wha- No, of course not. Do I look old enough?"
He tried for a nonchalant tone, and was relived to hear something close. If the man really cared, and was good at this sort of thing, he might detect an undercurrent of distress, but it was minimal.
Swiftly, Lucas's mind began to settle into a clearer, more objectified entity, as opposed to the prior chaos. Still, though, new fears were manufactured as fast as he could acknowledge them.
Chiefly, the fact that if this man suspected anything at all, his act was abysmal and he should probably start running. Yet something kept Lucas rooted to the spot.
Quickly, he came to the conclusion that he needed to know whether this man posed a threat. His drowsiness had melted away like mist to the sunlight of his shock, yet he new that it's undulating swirls would return. His only chance in a chase would be to get the first move.
He had to ascertain why this man was asking. He tried to continue his flippant, uncaring tone, and though there was no disimprovement, a light, trickling spring of distress flowed beneath his facade.
"And you? Do you work here?"

[MightyQuinn]

"Stop! Surrender!" Friction sprinted at the assailant.

"I don't want to hurt you! You don't understand!"

The man waved his arm once more and a car next to Friction exploded into a cloud of smoke, knocking her on her stomach. The cloud of smoke drifted towards her. "Gah that smells like burning garbage."

"These aren't my powers! This isn't me!"

Friction rose to her feet. "It's normal to not have control of your powers when they first appear. If you'll just come in we can help you-"

"NO! Your not taking me in! I'm not one of you!"

The man threw another explosion at Friction and then turned into a cloud of smoke himself. He drifted over to a fire escape and then reformed. He began running up the building.

"Hey stop! Damn monkey!"

After witnessing, and hearing, the man in the hoodie, it was apparent that he was panicking. Maybe he thought that this was some kind of bad psychedelic trip. Maybe he had no idea that he had power, waiting inside him to be unleashed. Whatever he thought was going on in his head had broken into reality.

The buildings along 1st Avenue S., while of different heights, were largely connected, with the occasional alleyway. Yūrei, the unseen ghost, climbed up an exposed drainpipe as if it was made for her ascent and found herself not terribly far away from the Rogue.

He was moving in her direction and she would soon have to decide what the best course of action was. It was unlikely that she could befriend him as he seemed to be in denial about himself and her appearance from invisibility could not help but spook him even further. There were too many unknowns about him for a likely physical subdual. Letting him, or helping him, escape probably would not be a good idea, either, as he wasn't in complete control of himself. Yūrei found her resolve and decided that, for his own good, she'd have to sucker-punch the rogue.

The explosions occurred following the waving of his arms, so as he was running past her, Yūrei grabbed him by the wrist, using his own momentum to make a controlled throw, landing him hard on his opposite shoulder and then dislocating the arm that she had grabbed him by with a wrenching motion.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yūrei saw the Unity Agent in the black armored skin suit on the roof. What did she see? Perhaps the agent would put it down to an accident? Yūrei fled the scene. If the rogue recovered quickly, then it was a good choice for her to flee as she might be terribly outclassed. Yūrei leapt to the next roof and began looking for a way down..., except she paused to see how the scene would play out to the end.

[The first Galactic Republic]

OOC: More backstory because it's late and why not.



"There it is! There it is! Fire!"

Machine gun bullets roared all around an armored figure, but its movements were too quick for the people firing the guns. The figure jumped around dodging the attacks and moving closer to the armed men. The figure leaped forward and landed on its hands, then sprang forward and kicked one of the men solidly in the head with metal legs. The man went flying backwards with a horribly twisted neck.

Another of the men fired at the figure but it swung around and activated rockets on its boots. The figure slammed into the man with its metal body, crushing him. Another of the men tried to run, but the figure picked up the discarded machine gun and flung it at the man's spine with such force that he too died.

"On the ground!"

A man was pointing a heavy pistol, larger than anything you'd find in 2015, at the figure's head. Even the metal armor couldn't withstand that shot.

"Now!"

The figure said nothing. It fell to its knees and put its hands on the back of its head.

"Lie down on the ground and put your hands by the side of your head!"

The figure lied down on the ground and put its hands to the side of its head. The man put his legs on either side of the figure and sat on its back. He kept the pistol pointed directly at the back of the figure's head.

Suddenly the figure's right arm twisted around in an inhuman manner until it was parallel to the man's head. It formed a fist and hit the man square in the jaw. He went flying backwards and hit the wall hard. His neck was bent horribly.

The figure rose to its feet. It was covered head to toe in a kind of powered armor, not even dented by the few bullets that hit it. The armor was segmented and lights shine on various places. The helmet was sharp and angular, having two glowing eyes.

The figure sprinted down the hall towards a heavy metal door. Lights all around the building went off and the door began to close, but the figure jumped forward with rocket boots and made it into the room before the doors closed. A lone woman tried to fire with an assault rifle but the figure landed on its feet and used its momentum to jump again and land right on top of her.

"Please no! No! I have a fami-"

The figure pressed its metal boot on the woman's neck until only blood came from her mouth. It then grabbed her by the neck and flung her body hard at a glass wall in front of them. The body hit the wall and left a blood splatter as it slid down.

"Come on out! I know you're in there!"

Though modified slightly the figure's voice was soft and feminine. It was defiant, yet pained.

Suddenly the glass wall became a giant hologram of a single line.

Almost the same voice came out of the hologram. Everytime it spoke the line moved like a jagged wave.

"Well well if it isn't my armored stalker."

"There's nowhere in space or time you can go where I can't find you."

"You can't be bargained or reasoned with."

"Do not quote old movies at me! Your game is at an end. Even if you run I'm going to track you down."

The figure walked over to the body of the barely alive woman, placing its hand on her head.

"You think you can stop me with these, these *crushes skull* puppets?" The figure's hand vibrated with such speed that it flung the blood off of it.

"I will defeat you eventually."

"Ha ha ha! You don't know how to defeat me. Come on. There's enough of me left in you to know that this would make a pretty bad story. For the hero to just defeat the antagonist like that. No. I am the Joker to your Batman. The Lex Luthor to your Superman. The Dr Sivana to your Captain Marvel. The Six to your Banner Men. If the hero just defeated the supervillain there would be no story. You'll never win. You'll never end this. You can call it a game all you want but this is reality. We are messing with things beyond human comprehension, yet we can still do it. The universe itself bends to our game. This story matters."

"I don't care about your insane ramblings. If there's one difference between us, it's that I have the dignity of knowing I never made someone sit through a monologue."

"I've already jumped. I'm resetting the game. You'll have to follow me."

"There's nowhere in space or time you can go where I can't follow you."

[Charellia]

Solarmancer saw the Unity agent fall and put on an extra burst of speed. He was almost on top of the rogue, almost close enough to grab him, when the hooded man changed suddenly to smoke and Solarmancer ended up tackling thin air. "That's new," he muttered to himself, thinking of past exploders he had fought.

He rolled to his feet and sprinted toward the building which the rogue was now attempting to scale. He had an idea of electrifying the fire escape to knock the rogue off, but the man had already reached the roof before he was halfway there. Solarmancer changed direction, aiming for the building's main entrance. If there was a fire escape for the roof, that meant there had to be rooftop access from inside. Solarmancer burst into the lobby, ignoring the protests of a security guard who jumped to his feet as the hero ran past. He kicked open the door of a winding stairwell and began leaping the stairs three at a time. As he ran he attempted to punch Slipstream's number into his cellphone one-handed, though this was not an easy task to perform while running full tilt up a flight of stairs.

Solarmancer reached the top floor and flung himself against the rooftop door, but it was locked. He could go back and get the security guard to open it, but that would take to long and the rogue could be several block away by then. Hoping that Unity would pay for the damage, he set his palm over the lock and began to draw cellphone signals from the air (leading to several dropped calls throughout the city) and focused their energy into a laser-like ray of heat, melting the lock. He threw his weight against the door again and this time it burst open.

The rogue was lying on the edge of the roof looking disoriented as though he had just fallen hard. One of his arms was sticking out at an odd angle. Yet when he saw Solarmancer, he flung out his good arm. The blast missed by several feet blowing a chunk out of the roof.

"Stand down," Solarmancer ordered. "Before somebody gets hurt." The rogue caused another explosion, this time right on target, and Solarmancer was forced to dive out of the way. "You're really asking for it!"

Solarmancer flung out his hands and the palms lit up like high intensity flashlights right in the rogue's face. The rogue flailed blindly, blowing up an antenna and blowing a third section off the roof. Solarmancer terminated the beam and charged at his blind opponent, grabbing the rogue's good arm and locking behind his back with his own. He pressed down, forcing the rogue into a hunchbacked position. He had no cuffs, but he could hold on to the prisoner like this until the Unity agent arrived. No sooner has this thought crossed his mind than the rogue turned into smoke one more and drifted out of his grasp.

[Aghrabia]

Damien van Horne

Damien was in a good mood. His last mass-murder, no... attack in Manila, had went extremely well with maximum casualties- a joy since the fiasco that was Moscow. Again, nobody knew who he was, why he was there, or even how exactly he did it; a definite success in his books. So here he was on the flight, listening to some music, ignoring those around him, chilling out before the next attack, destination: Seattle. He wasn't exactly sure why he had chosen Seattle. It wasn't the biggest city on the West Coast and it would have probably been more efficient to start his little roadtrip in San Francisco or Los Angeles. Maybe it was because of a certain building located inside this little town- he rifled around in his bag and pulled out a leaflet displaying the Unity logo and the front of the main building.

He smirked. What fun this is going to be, destroying the foundation of world "security". He started to laugh rather dementedly, drawing odd looks from those around him. He calmed himself and leaned back in his chair. Considering various plans of action that he could take in destroying Unity. He was still thinking of this when he started to drift off- days of staying awake had tired him out and, besides, he still had 8 hours left before he reached his destination. When he finally woke up everyone around him were already taking out their bags from the overhead compartments and preparing to leave the plane- rather startled he had slept that long he jumped up rather quickly, smashing his head on the top of the cabin. He rubbed his head as he grabbed his bag and joined the queue to leave the plane.

Coming down from the plane, he strode through the corridor and out into the flight lounge. He ignored the luggage belt (as he had no suitcases or anything similar) and wove past families greeting each other joyously, as if they hadn't seen each other for years. Such pointless affection he thought. What has my family ever done for me? He shook the thought out of his head and continued through the throngs to the airport exit.

Thus he started wandering the city, finding something to eat and drink, something to entertain him while he planned his assault. It was by complete coincidence he found himself in The Central Tavern of 1st Ave S. He was enjoying a rather small meal and beer, watching some clearly drunk idiots dancing. He laughed as he finished his meal and was about to leave when four explosions could be heard in rapid succession from outside- he stopped eating to listen, everything went quiet. Then came the fifth explosion. The window near him shattered, surprising him slightly- but he smiled when it was clear little damage had been done. This, now this, was interesting. He waited as the people were being herded to the exit, Fools... he thought. So easily panicked by such a small explosion, only if they knew... He continued smiling as he jumped through the window, following the man- he must have been a Unity agent. He ran through the streets with purpose, cackling dementedly the whole way, following the black-suited Unity agent.

He had reached a dark alley, some flashes of light had lit up the roof of a building above him. Suddenly an explosion of smoke bloomed in front of him, not surprising him one bit. He gave the hooded man an intense stare before letting him past. He shrugged, there would be plenty more stuff to do later- he grinned at the thought, then left the alley.

[Charellia]

Solarmancer's phone buzzed in his jacket pocked. It was Slipstream. "I've secured a five block radius up and down 1st Avenue. Civilians have been told to get clear or take shelter away from windows or doors," she informed him.

"Good. Suspect's on the move. I had him, but he went ethereal. Trying to get a fix on him now." Solarmancer ran to the side of the building and stared down into the alley where the rogue had disappeared, but all he could see was pitch blackness. "Hang on." Solarmancer absorbed more radio signals from the air, trying to avoid interfering with the frequency Slipstream was on, and his eyes lit up like searchlights, bathing the alley in harsh white light. At first it looked empty, but then he caught sight of a man in dark clothes making his way back toward the main street.

"Hey, stop!" Solarmancer shouted, focusing his beams on the retreating figure. It only took him a moment to realize that this man was not the suspect. His head was uncovered and he was wearing a suit jacket, which just happened to be the same colour as the suspect's. There was no way the the rogue could have changed that fast unless he were a shapeshifter, and while Solarmancer knew that was well within the realm of possibility, his target was in no condition to hold an alternate form.

"Unity Security," he informed the suited man below. "Did you see man in a dark hood run through here?"

[Aghrabia]

Solarmancer's phone buzzed in his jacket pocked. It was Slipstream. "I've secured a five block radius up and down 1st Avenue. Civilians have been told to get clear or take shelter away from windows or doors," she informed him.

"Good. Suspect's on the move. I had him, but he went ethereal. Trying to get a fix on him now." Solarmancer ran to the side of the building and stared down into the alley where the rogue had disappeared, but all he could see was pitch blackness. "Hang on." Solarmancer absorbed more radio signals from the air, trying to avoid interfering with the frequency Slipstream was on, and his eyes lit up like searchlights, bathing the alley in harsh white light. At first it looked empty, but then he caught sight of a man in dark clothes making his way back toward the main street.

"Hey, stop!" Solarmancer shouted, focusing his beams on the retreating figure. It only took him a moment to realize that this man was not the suspect. His head was uncovered and he was wearing a suit jacket, which just happened to be the same colour as the suspect's. There was no way the the rogue could have changed that fast unless he were a shapeshifter, and while Solarmancer knew that was well within the realm of possibility, his target was in no condition to hold an alternate form.

"Unity Security," he informed the suited man below. "Did you see man in a dark hood run through here?"

"Unity?" he asked, with one eyebrow raised. "Hmmmm... Interesting..." That it was, he wasn't surprised at all to meet Unity agent here. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't see a man in a dark hood run through here, what's it to me?"

[The first Galactic Republic]

Friction grappled with the hooded man. It had been a long time since she'd seen any kind of action like this, but her training still made her more than a match for the man. He swung violently and chaotically, like he was fighting for control of his arms. Suddenly he broke free of Friction's grasp and started to sprint away. She chased after him and caught his hood as he turned into smoke, causing it to happen to her as well. They both rematerialzied on a roof. As she reformed Friction staggered away and vomited.

"What the. Fuck. How did that even?"

Behind her the man watched nervously. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't let me go!"

Friction rose to her feet. "In the name of the *groan* United States branch of the Unity, Pacific Northwest, you're under arrest."

"Never!" The man threw another explosion at Friction but she dodged and started sprinting towards him.

The man panicked and sprinted away. He ran to the edge of the roof and tried to turn into smoke again.

"I warned you."

Friction's hands glowed with golden energy as she used her power. Speed cancellation. The power to absorb an object's momentum or inertia, literally stopping it in place. She did it to the man as he had partially transformed.

The man's transformation was canceled and he fell to the ground several stories below. He hit the ground hard and his body fell apart. Some of his limbs turned into smoke. Some simply severed with blood pouring out of them.

"Shit."