Ship of Fools: A Taylor Varga Omake (Complete)

Chapter 52: Finishing Moves
Chapter 52: Finishing Moves

Danny looked up at the knock on his door. He wasn't sure who would be visiting at this hour, especially as Taylor was off doing...something. He knew it had to do with fixing the Starfleet universe, but her attempt to explain it had rapidly led to it descending into a level of Family weirdness that made him decide he didn't really need to know all the details. He went to the front door and opened it to find Ellen Ripley and Dwayne Hicks standing outside.

"Danny, I'm sorry to bother you at home on a Friday night, but we were discussing something and we wanted your input," said Dwayne.

"Of course, it's not a problem," said Taylor's dad. "Why don't you come in. Where's Newt?"

"Xander and Anya are watching her for us," replied Ellen. She found the young woman slightly off-putting, but that was more than compensated for by Xander's skill at making Newt laugh, and both were responsible adults.

The three of them went into the living room and sat down. "Danny, we were hoping you could help us out," began Ellen. "Dwayne and I have been talking...Newt too. We've been talking about where we want to settle down. I think you understand why none of us are really keen on going back to our own world..."

Danny could certainly sympathize. "I'm not surprised, given what you've all gone through. I understand that it's getting a lot better over there, though." Weyland-Yutani was now effectively a Dracotech and BBFO subsidiary.

"It's more the bad memories than anything else," said Dwayne. "Especially for Newt. We both think it's better to make a clean break...and we want to do it here, in Brockton Bay."

To say Danny was surprised was an understatement. "Here? I would have expected someplace like Miles' universe. I mean, I won't badmouth my hometown, but the general level of technology can't be as advanced as you're used to." Before the Family, he might have been more hesitant to recommend Brockton Bay, but the city was getting downright livable these days.

"You'd be surprised," muttered Dwayne.

"I'm not sure I follow?" Danny quirked a questioning eyebrow.

"While our home Earth is more technologically advanced in many ways, there are a lot of similarities in engineering to this world. There's still a lot that's...tactile, and mechanical. Federation tech is interesting, but it makes me feel more like a computer programmer than an engineer," said Ripley.

Hicks frowned. "To be honest...we're also a little uncomfortable about the alien species in that universe. Where we come from, most intelligent alien life is pretty hostile."

Danny considered that. Initially, the comment seemed uncharacteristically intolerant. Given their experiences though, and the lack of any positive counter-examples, he couldn't really begrudge them their lack of comfort around non-humans. They all seemed to get along fine with the Family, too (though Newt was still hesitant), so it probably wasn't something that couldn't be overcome with effort. The question was whether it was worth the effort for them personally. "All right...so what can I do to help?"

"Two things...well, three. The first and most obvious is that we could use some help finding work," said Ellen. "The second is that we need some guidance on how things like public services and schools work in this day and age, as it's probably very different from what I remember in my time." She paused after the second item.

"The third," continued Dwayne, "is that we need some advice on legal matters. Ellen, Newt and I don't actually exist legally in this time on this planet."

The hiring manager of the DWU smiled. "I can certainly help with the first two. As for the third, I'm pretty sure either Dragon or Metis can arrange something with the help of the PRT and the Protectorate. They're pretty good at establishing new identities, both to protect witnesses and to rebrand capes that switch sides. You're all sure you want to stay here in this world? To be completely open with you, there are still some pretty dangerous threats, even if the Endbringers are no longer attacking every month."

Ellen shrugged. "No world is completely safe, but sticking around near the Family seems like the safest option."

Danny Hebert couldn't argue against that, though he marveled at how quickly things had changed around Brockton Bay, and how much his daughter contributed to those changes. "All right, so the first thing I would suggest is we talk to Lisa. She can work with the family on getting you legal documentation and identification. At that point, you can officially join the DWU..."

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

Robert decided that moving slowly and carefully through real-space was boring...which was not a sentiment he would have predicted back when he was just a warlock in Florida. Shows like Star Trek made space travel look exciting. He said as much.

"Space is huge," replied Bobbi. "Even with hyperdrives, you spend a lot of time sitting around with nothing to do but daily maintenance and killing time with other people onboard. That's part of why interstellar ships use cold sleep pods...at least they did before the boss here showed up with the Family and their wormhole drives."

Vectura grinned. "It does make travel a lot less tedious...at least when you're not being overly cautious. Speaking of which, do we have any change on the sensors?"

Bobbi checked the readings yet again. "Nope. We can still see the planet in question, but if there are any lifesign or energy readings, then we're too far out to sense them. It pretty much looks just like a lifeless rock." They had jumped so that the planet highlighted by Robert's scrying as the core of the portal network was just within sensor range, and were approaching slowly and carefully.

"Does anybody have any objection to jumping in closer to try and get better readings?" asked the cat-woman.

Robert and Bobbi exchanged a look. "I'm guessing that if there's anything there," said the wizard, "then it's trying to maintain a low profile. That would probably be hard to do if they fired weapons at any ship that passed too close."

"No argument here," agreed Bobbi.

With that, Vectura opened a wormhole to the edge of the star system containing the world in question. The system itself looked boring, with just three airless, rocky planets and a dirt-brown-colored gas giant. The planet highlighted by Robert's spell earlier was the second farthest out from the system's star, but it was oddly isolated from the rest of the system. It was currently on the opposite side of the star from the other three worlds...and seemed to orbit the star at an angle to the plane of the other planets' orbits. As a result, it never came very close to any of the other worlds.

"I'm getting a faint energy reading now," said Bobbi. "It's definitely artificial. I don't think any human ship from this reality would be able to sense it at this distance, though. They would pretty much have to be in orbit of the planet." Luckily for them, the sensors on Family dimension skippers were significantly better than local tech.

Bobbi continued to monitor the readings as they moved toward the planet in question from the edges of the star system. The reading grew in strength as they got closer, but there was no other change. There was still no evidence of life signs, nor were there any indications of automated sensors or defenses. If they hadn't identified a connection with the interdimensional portals used by the Yautja, they wouldn't have had much reason to investigate. They soon reached orbit, and once there, they were able to scan beneath the surface of the planet near the source of the reading.

"What is that?" asked Robert, looking at a holographic image of the subsurface.

Vectura replied, "It looks like a single room surrounded by machinery of some kind. There doesn't seem to be any way to get inside, however."

"Could there have been a tunnel or shaft that collapsed?" asked Bobbi.

"Possibly...but I can't tell that from here. Let's beam down a probe," said the tinker. They had a number of probes onboard that were capable of independent maneuver and were loaded with sensors...albeit not as many as the sensor spheres used to monitor open space in various universes. The information sent back showed what appeared to be a control room with several rather large chairs, as well as a human-tolerable oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and gravity equivalent to about 80% of Earth at sea-level. "Well, that's interesting. Nothing has attacked the probe, so let's go down and take a look."

"Shouldn't somebody stay on the ship?" asked Robert.

Vectura shrugged. "Eh, we have the emergency beamout protocol, and if we don't check in, then the Family will come looking for us. You've both got your permanent symbiotes, right?" Both of her companions nodded. "All right, then. Should be safe enough." Something about the planet was calling to Vectura's power. A small part of her mind suggested that she was being a bit incautious, but that was overruled by a different urge.

The three appeared in a room that looked alien to human senses. There were, in fact, some similarities between the derelict on LV-426 and the technology in the room, but only Vectura was familiar enough with the quasi-organic look to notice. The chairs at the three consoles were far too large for a human. Unlike the derelict, however, there were no giant corpses present. The room was empty of life. Vectura went over to one of the control consoles, which appeared to be dorment. She reached out a hand to touch the console, but hesitated as it lit when she was close. The screen in front of her also lit with static, and a deep, booming voice said a fairly complex stream of gibberish -- or at least, spoke in a language that was foreign to everyone present.

"Should we be touching things?" asked Bobbi nervously. "We don't actually know what any of this stuff does."

"I think...this stuff is related to controlling the portals. You know, kind of like an airport's control tower," said Vectura.

Robert Esposito stared at her. "How on Earth could you possibly know that?"

"My power. It's like it kind of recognizes some of this stuff," said the tinker.

Robert couldn't say he understood much about tinker powers, but he wasn't about to express any arbitrary skepticism given the present circumstances. Bobbi, on the other hand, was getting used to the fact that her boss seemed to have a preternatural ability when it came to anything related to vehicles or other forms of transport. Apart from the dimension skippers, she'd also seen videos of the lightcyles and construction mechs built by Vectura. If Vectura said she understood a room full of completely alien technology, she would give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Let's see..." said Vectura. She reached out and touched one of the controls.

"PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF," said the booming voice.

Vectura glanced at Bobbi and Robert, who both shrugged. "My name is Vectura."

"VECTURA, PLEASE EXPLAIN HOW YOU GAINED ACCESS TO THIS FACILITY," commanded the voice.

"Teleportation?" she replied, while getting ready to trigger the emergency recall that would beam the three of them back to the ship.

There was a pause. "YOUR SPECIES DOES NOT HAVE ACCESS TO THAT TECHNOLOGY," it finally replied.

Despite the circumstances, she smirked. "The humans in this universe haven't developed it natively, no, but they have access to it through us."

"ASSESSING CLAIM OF TRANS-DIMENSIONAL ORIGINS...SCANNING...CONFIRMING VARIANT QUANTUM SIGNATURES..." There was another pause...and this one lasted long enough that it made them wonder if the machine had gotten stuck on something. Finally, the machine spoke again, but with a more cultured voice. "Very interesting. Do you claim to represent humans from other realities, Vectura?"

"I'm not a representative of any official government, if that's what you're asking," said Vectura. "I work for a pan-dimensional organization that troubleshoots problems too large for the locals to handle...or at least, that's what we've turned into."

"Based on my scans of the biotechnological enhancements in your bodies, I'm going to guess that your organization is responsible for the anti-xenomorph virus?" asked the machine.

"You know about that?" asked Bobbi before Vectura could answer.

"A crewman from a human vessel was captured by a surviving member of the Militant faction. He detected the virus and I retrieved the information from his databases," confirmed the voice.

"If you don't mind...could you tell us who you are and what you're doing here?" interjected Vectura before Bobbi could follow up on that information.

"My designation in your language would translate to, 'Mind Five-Four Research Sapient,' and my role is to monitor and control this portal hub facility for an empire that no longer exists thanks to its own hubris and proclivity towards violence," said the obviously artificial intelligence. "You may call me Mears, if you like."

"Are you willing to answer some questions? We were led here because a species called the Yautja used one of the portals tied to this facility to enter another universe where we have interests," said Vectura.

"I don't see why not. Ever since the last members of my crew were killed while trying to evacuate, events have been exceedingly boring. Monitoring a mostly inactive portal network barely takes up a small fraction of my computational capacity. Luckily for you, my creators were arrogant enough to think that no other species would ever find this facility, so they never bothered with any protocols for internal security. From your words, I take it that the open portals that are in use are being used by the hunters? That, if I may venture an opinion, was a rather stupid experiment on the part of the Preservationist faction...uplifting a tribal society fixated on proving themselves through combat was always going to be problematic. Not that they ever listened to their AI when politics was involved..." said Mears, the last few words turning into a mutter.

"How long have you been by yourself, here?" asked Robert, wondering at the somewhat...scattered responses by the AI.

The machine actually hummed for a moment like an absent-minded professor, then replied, "You use years based on the orbital period of your homeworld like most species, yes? Then that comes to...seven-thousand, four hundred twenty-three point six five six three of your years, assuming none of my mathematics processors have failed in that time."

"And why was your crew evacuating?" asked Bobbi, wondering if the facility itself was safe.

"They were evacuating because they were members of the Expansionist Faction, and they were fighting the Evolutionist faction in the forty-second year of their third civil war. The Evolutionists located this facility and were getting ready to transport in xenomorphs, or something equally vile, so the crew fled...and their ship was obliterated by a kinetic kill device instead. The Evolutionists went away and never came back...so they may have fallen afoul of yet another faction. There are no more records of their vessel in any system I can access, at least."

"How many factions did your people have?" asked Bobbi.

"Originally, there were no fewer than twelve, but by the final days of the empire there were only four, the others having been wiped out or absorbed. Unfortunately for you, the Militants were one of the four," said the AI.

"Why is that unfortunate for us?" prompted Vectura.

Mears chuckled. "It is unfortunate because the Militants see your species as a sleeper weapon of the Evolutionists, despite evidence to the contrary. The one who discovered your virus has already sent several ships toward your homeworld. I assume, based on the marvelous spaceship I can sense in orbit, that your forces destroyed them?"

"Mears," said Vectura, "would you be willing to speak to some friends of ours about these Militants? I have some friends, including another AI, who would like to know more about them." She left his question about their military abilities unanswered.

"That sounds wonderful! It's been ages since I had a conversation with a lucid AI...not since the stellar regulator AI in system 43480 went insane and let his star go supernova. Too bad about the primitives in that system...they had some lovely music..." said the AI, again ending in a way that sounded like it was talking to itself.

Vectura's new priority was getting Dragon and one of the Family here. Mears was likely the key to figuring out how to handle the Space Jockeys once and for all, assuming it didn't go mad like a post-apocalyptic monorail in a Stephen King novel.

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

Burnscar looked out from the bed in the hotel room at the remaining members of the Nine. William was watching television. Bonesaw appeared to be playing jacks with one of her spiders. Alan was using a delicate manipulator to fiddle with some tinker device on the dining table in the room, his rounded form sitting on the floor instead of one of the chairs. Hatchet Face was dozing on the other bed. Shatterbird was on the couch, reading a magazine. Crawler, of course, wasn't in the room...he never stayed with the group when they were on the move. Overall, it was an odd juxtaposition of monsters doing utterly mundane things.

"You still fear them..." said the Phoenix in her mind.

'Yes, but I'm afraid of myself most of all,' she thought forlornly.

The Phoenix scoffed. "You don't fear yourself. You fear your power."

Annoyed, Mimi replied, 'When the fire takes over, I lose myself. I do things I later regret.' Jack had been obscenely good at making sure she lost herself over and over again. She was thankful he was dead now.

"The parasite that made you what you call a parahuman affected your mind. You can stay in control if you choose to do so." The Phoenix was wondering if she had made a poor choice in picking this host, making a hasty decision due to curiosity and elemental affinity.

'It may be easy for a cosmic power like you, but I'm just a lowly human.' snapped back Mimi, her irritation making her momentarily reckless.

The Phoenix growled. "With me, you are more," she insisted.

Mimi scoffed in her head, though she didn't move at all physically. 'Jack used to say something similar.'

"Fine," said the Phoenix irritably. "You do not need the alien parasite to prove yourself."

Burnscar moved then. She moaned a low, pained moan as she could feel the fire in her brain. Around her, the others were reacting similarly...all except Mannequin, who simply rolled over and stopped moving.

'What the hell did you just do?' asked Mimi to the presence in her head.

"I have eliminated the parasite link in your brain. It was largely redundant with my power, and it was influencing your mood," was the reply.

Mimi looked around the room. 'You took my power? What about the others?'

"I removed theirs as well, as you were afraid of them. The changes Alan Gramme made to his own physiology made the removal process lethal to him. The creature known as Crawler is also in the process of suffocating, as he fell from a height as I was burning his power out of him," replied the force of destruction.

She considered that news. It's not like she was overly fond of the others, and Mannequin wouldn't have been able to maintain his own life support for long without his tinker powers. Crawler, too, would likely have quickly met a bad end, given his penchant for running head-first into danger and relying on his adaptation and regeneration. Mimi looked around at the others. She watched William as his face got a horrified, panicked look. Shatterbird had fallen off of her chair and was picking herself back up. Bonesaw was still lying on the floor, groaning. Hatchet Face was starting to stir from his nap, obviously awakened from the pain. Making a decision, she said to the Phoenix. 'I don't want to deal with this. Take me somewhere away from here.'

Smirking internally, the Phoenix willed them somewhere else, and Burnscar vanished in flames.

Bonesaw pushed herself up, then looked around. Mannequin looked to be disabled or dead. William was panicking. Shatterbird looked confused. Burnscar was gone. Hatchet Face was sitting up from the bed. Riley tried to use her power on the spider that was sitting there...and found that it was gone. That was likely to be a problem. She looked at Shatterbird. "Can you access your powers?"

Shatterbird quirked an eyebrow, then raised a hand. Her expression changed to a puzzled one, then to a slightly horrified one.

"What the hell happened?" asked Hatchet Face from the bed.

"Our powers have shut off," replied Riley, ignoring for the moment how William was starting to repeat, "I can't find my daughter!" over and over again, quietly.

"Is it temporary?" asked Shatterbird.

Riley shook her head. "Without knowing what caused it, I'm not sure." Based on the pain and disorientation, plus what happened to Mannequin, they may very well have lost their powers for good. She still had her own body modifications, which weren't dependent upon her powers to work, but she no longer had the instinctive understanding of physiology or surgery used to create them. "We'll have to wait for Burnscar to come back and see if she knows."

Shatterbird glanced nervously over to Hatchet Face. "What if she doesn't come back?"

"Then we go look for her," said Riley...though the confidence she projected was false. Unlike Shatterbird, she wasn't terribly worried about her own safety, as she could still defend herself with a variety of implanted weapons. Mimi had been increasingly unstable since she killed Jack, though, and had the ability to overpower the rest of them with ease. She wasn't sure if they would be better if the fiery cape came back...or if she didn't.

In the corner, Manton stopped talking and began rocking back and forth silently.

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

Doctor Mother looked up at the doorway opening in the room as Rebecca stepped through into the Cauldron facility. Her eyebrow raised slightly as the woman was followed by the large, black lizard, Metis. "Rebecca," she said, "is there a reason why you've introduced the Family to our facility?"

"For one, they already knew about it, including how to get here," replied the tall hispanic woman. "Apart from that, they know about the Case 53's, Cauldron capes and our process for creating vials, my cape identity and who else is involved in running Cauldron."

Doctor Mother looked over at the lizard and said, simply, "You are well-informed."

Metis regarded the African woman in her lab coat. "Your group was far too dependent upon Contessa for your operational security. The Family is relatively immune to thinker powers, so it was really only a matter of time. Of course, certain other events accelerated that process."

"And are you here to put a stop to our evil scheme?" asked Doctor Mother with an admirable degree of sarcasm.

Metis laughed at that, showing a rather disturbing amount of teeth. "I'm here to explain some things to you, and to tell you what happens next. You see, the Family has already killed Scion...twice, actually. We also know how to bring the Endbringers under control."

Interested despite her concern, Doctor Mother asked, "What do you mean, you killed him twice?"

"The first time was in a parallel Earth...similar to Earth Aleph, except that it was parallel along a different axis. That world had alternate versions of most of the people in this world, including an alternate Cauldron, an alternate Protectorate, et cetera... There was also an alternate Scion, which we have dispatched. Once you know the trick, it isn't that hard, frankly. Now, their versions of Eidolon and Alexandria have other commitments, so it is up to Legend and the new head of the PRT to keep things together and track down the remaining high-class threats while the rest of Cauldron figures out what to do with themselves. Part of the reason we're here is to try and make thing go more smoothly in this reality," explained Metis.

"They took me to see Scion's corpse...this reality's Scion, at least," added Rebecca.

"Our first time beating him was a little rough on the planet he was on, so it was better to show her yours," said the lizard.

Doctor Mother regarded the two. "Was it a long battle...the first time?" That would explain why it did significant damage to the planet holding Scion's true form.

"Not especially...but my cousin was a little overly enthusiastic and burned away the planet's atmosphere," said Metis, "which we managed to avoid the second time around."

"In any event, there is a particularly useful role that Cauldron can play, a role for which your participation would be essential," continued Rebecca. "The Family has determined, based on some unfortunate incidents on the other Earth Bet, that the entities didn't just distribute powers. As we suspected, they also balanced them. Preventing Case 53's was one consequence of that...but there were other aspects affected as well."

"Other aspects?" prompted Doctor Mother.

Metis held up a hand and began to count down claws. "Application of Manton limits. Adding secondary powers to allow capes to survive the use of their primary powers. Adapting the interpretation of powers based on the circumstances of trigger events. Limiting powers so that they excluded the entities, powers themselves or the Endbringers...that was typically done for thinker powers in general. Obfuscating the databases of technology available to tinkers to prevent humans from using their inventions to advance to a point where they could threaten the entities."

Eagerly, Doctor Mother asked, "Do you know how those various...adjustments were made?"

Metis shook her head. "We have suppositions, and some clues based upon examination of agents in their native pocket dimensions. What we would like you to do is help us establish an institute for the study of powers. We need to learn how to fix broken capes like Case 53's or new triggers that are missing critical secondary powers. Ideally, we would do away with the entire current trigger process. Gaining superpowers due to trauma is hardly conducive to creating mentally balanced capes. We also want to be able to turn off the agents infuencing their hosts to seek out conflict, and figure out how to disable the agents for problematic capes like Butcher from a distance."

"And you want me to research these things?" asked the African woman.

"You, Contessa, and perhaps your counterparts in the other reality," confirmed Rebecca. "Contessa in particular could be useful, especially if we can find a work-around for how the Family's influence seems to generally degrade precognitive abilities. We also could use your help with Eidolon."

"You know why his powers are fading in power?" All of Doctor Mother's nervousness and sarcasm seemed to be subsumed by her curiosity.

Metis nodded. "We do. We also know that Eidolon's power is responsible for unleashing and subconsciously directing the Endbringers."

Doctor Mother looked to Rebecca, and at her nod, said,"Oh...that's...going to be difficult." David was not going to be happy to hear that, assuming he accepted it as true.

"I also would like your help in convincing Alexandria to just be a Protectorate cape and stop being the head of the PRT," said Rebecca.

Now the other woman looked confused. "I thought you said the alternate Alexandria had already done so?"

"I have," said Rebecca, prompting a look of surprised understanding from Doctor Mother. "But the Alexandria of this world also needs to hand over the reigns of power in compliance with the PRT's regulations."

"Rebecca here can help with that," said Metis. "She's willing to have her powers temporarily suppressed. At that point, she would take over this PRT long enough to establish her retirement and a practical transition plan. The process for the other PRT was both chaotic and bad for public opinion."

"I assume the Family is willing to assist with all of this?" Doctor Mother was skeptical of her ability to convince her David and Rebecca of what the lizard was saying...assuming it could be verified.

"We will. Saurial and Raptaur will be able to assist as soon as they finish a rather complicated situation in another universe," said Metis.

Given how easily the Family seemed to have taken down Scion, a problem that Cauldron had never been confident of solving, Doctor Mother had to wonder what they considered complicated. "Why don't you give me some more details?" she said, taking out a notepad from her desk.

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

John Marcone walked up to the entrance to Dresden Security with the woman Gard on his left and his bodyguard Hendricks on his right, both a step behind. He stopped for a moment and looked up at the multi-story edifice, all of which was apparently now owned by Harry Dresden's company. That implied a level of funding well beyond the man's old PI office. The group continued forward, but stopped again after coming in through the front doors. Instead of a normal corporate office lobby, they entered a relatively small, wide hallway with wood paneling that had a single, open elevator at the end. Marcone looked at Gard with a raised eyebrow.

"The lobby of this building did not look like this during our surveillance," said the tall woman.

Marcone looked around. There was no evidence of construction or obvious magic. "Is this a veil?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It is more than that, but I would need more active measures to determine more."

The shadow of a smile ghosted the gangster's lips. "We're guests right now. Let's hold off on 'active measures' until it becomes necessary."

The oddness continued in the elevator, which was just large enough for three people and only had a single button as an internal control. It didn't even have buttons to control the door or an emergency contact handset. John idly wondered what a building inspector would think of that, assuming they could even see any of this. The ride ended with the door opening on a small receptionist's office. A young, attractive woman of Asian descent was sitting behind a desk. Her nameplate read, "Lee," though it wasn't clear if that was her given name or her family name.

She looked up as they stepped off the elevator and asked, "John Marcone and guests to see Mr. Dresden for your two o'clock appointment?" All three of them could see that she had one hand out of sight beneath her desk. John nodded, and she pressed an intercom button with her visible hand. "Mr. Dresden, your two o'clock is here."

"Thank you, Lee...you can send them in," replied Dresden's voice from the speaker.

"Please go in, Mr. Marcone," said the woman in a professional manner.

The three proceeded through the outer office and into a larger, executive-style office. Harry Dresden was wearing jeans and a black button-down shirt, but he was sitting behind a mahogany desk that would have been the envy of a number of self-important businessmen that John knew. Off to the side, Karrin Murphy was sitting in a leather chair. She was wearing a well-cut pants suit that was dressier than Dresden's clothes. Neither stood to welcome their visitors. Instead, Dresden said, "John, it's nice to see you again. It's been some time." He looked in turn to the other two. "Gard...Cujo."

John walked over to the middle chair of the three present in front of the desk and sat without being invited. Gard took the left-hand chair, but Hendricks remained standing behind the two of them. "It hasn't been that long," he commented.

Harry shrugged. "What can I say? Time spent out of your presence tends to stretch. What can I do for you today?"

John pointedly looked at Karrin. "Are we going to have a police chaperone for this conversation?"

"I don't work for the CPD anymore," said Karrin, speaking for herself. "I'm a security advisor for Dresden Securities, now."

"You work for Dresden now? My condolences," said Gard with an atypical air of sarcasm.

Karrin looked at Harry fondly. "It has its benefits, and the retirement plan is much better."

"Karrin is my 2IC. She sits in on all of the important meetings," explained Harry.

John made a note of that, as well as the uncharacteristic use of military lingo by the wizard. He decided to get straight to business. "I'm here in my role as Freeholding Lord, Wizard Dresden. I want to know how your current circumstances affect the balance of power, both in Chicago and elsewhere."

Dresden tilted his head slightly. "I'm still affiliated with the White Council as a Warden, though I've had a number of other titles thrown at me. Officially, I'm Warden Dresden of the White Council, Warden of Demonreach, Apprentice Gatekeeper, Council Sorcerer."

"Apprentice Gatekeeper?" asked Gard, eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Dresden grimaced a bit. "That's Rashid's way of granting me certain types of access...and probably his idea of a joke at my expense."

"I noticed that you didn't list Winter Knight in those titles," commented Marcone.

"Yes," answered Dresden with a grin. "We managed to convince the Winter Queen to move the mantle to another candidate."

Now it was John's turn to be surprised. "I didn't know that was possible."

"It's possible...but you have to really make it worth her while," replied Harry.

John digested that. He would have to get Gard to make some inquiries with her superiors. "So where does that leave us?"

Dresden looked at John. John stared back at him. The two had already shared a soulgaze, so neither bothered with averting their gaze. "John, my official position toward you is appropriate for your role as Baron of Chicago under the Unseelie Accords. We will also maintain that stance in the upcoming peace negotiations." Word of a meeting to sign a new treaty in the wake of the destruction of the Red Court had percolated through the supernatural world. "Personally, you know that you and I will never be friends, and any of my firm's non-magical security work that runs afoul of your business interests...well, that will have to get resolved in the mundane courts."

"You're suggesting a complete division between the supernatural and the mundane?" asked Marcone.

"You know that's not completely possible," commented Karrin. "When the supernatural enters into it though, then other rules apply."

"And we're going to work to keep those elements separate, and will look poorly on any attempt to mix them for the sake of convenience," said Dresden.

In other words, thought John, as long as mundane crime stays mundane, then everybody is just a normal citizen dealing within the system. When magic gets involved, then they're Baron and Council Sorcerer...whatever that specific title actually meant. It was in some respects the status quo. It was clear, however, that Harry Dresden had resources beyond his former station, and that meant that he would need Baron Marcone's help far less frequently. "I think we understand each other," said Marcone.

Harry smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."

John and Gard stood up and turned to go, but Harry said, "John, there's one more thing." Marcone turned back to look at Dresden, who pulled out a small case and held it up to him. "That's for Amanda."

Marcone reached out and took the small case, which was about the size of a case for eyeglasses. "What is it?" he asked, somewhat coldly.

"It will do what the Shroud was supposed to do," answered Dresden.

John's eyes widened slightly, before he said, "Thank you, Harry." He put the case in his inner jacket pocket and the three left in the elevator. He knew Harry well enough not to doubt his word on such a topic.

Once they were out of the building and away from any listening devices, Marcone said to Gard, "Do you know anything about the Winter Knight situation?"

She shook her head. "I do not, although there are rumors that Mab somehow has new, powerful guardians watching the Outer Gates. I'm not sure they're connected, but I can ask."

"Please do," said Marcone. "Also, do you have any idea what the title, 'Council Sorcerer,' means?"

"It's not a commonly used term," replied the Valkyrie. "It might imply mastery of some type of esoteric magical ability, or several of them, or it could be a new role with specific duties in the Council. I'll check my contacts." Of course, there was no way to know exactly why or how Dresden now qualified for such a title.

John considered their meeting as they got to their car and departed, with Hendricks taking the driver's seat. Harry Dresden had looked different in subtle ways. He no longer had a glove covering the scars on one hand, and in fact, the scars seemed to have been healed. Apart from that, though, the man was more confident and professional than he remembered, even if he was still a sarcastic pain in the ass. He would need to pay careful attention to how things developed with Dresden from now on. His value as an ally and danger as an enemy had both likely increased.

* * * * *​

After Marcone left, Karrin asked, "Was it wise giving Marcone a healing symbiote? What if he keeps it for himself?"

"He won't," answered Harry. Before he could explain more, his cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, he said to Karrin, "It's Maggie." He pressed the little green phone symbol. "Hello, sweetie...yes...what do you mean, Molly is being mean to you?" Despite rolling his eyes a bit at the drama, Harry couldn't help but smile at his life right now.

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

"How long will the lock-out last?" asked Saurial.

Draco frowned. "You've got maybe thirty minutes. After that, I can kick them out entirely, but I won't be able to keep them from talking to you...and her...if they're still in the system."

Saurial smiled. "Plenty of time." With that, Saurial vanished and reappeared elsewhere.

Kiva was getting ready for bed when somebody appeared in her bedroom. She jumped back with a start at seeing a bipedal reptile standing there. "FATHER!" she yelled, "There's somebody in my room!"

The reptile woman grinned without showing any teeth. "Hello, Kiva. My name is Saurial."

"FATHER!" yelled Kiva again. She was mindful of her father's warning. She ran to the door of her room and tried to pull open the door, but it seemed locked...which was odd, as the door didn't have a lock. She called out several more times, but couldn't hear a response. She turned, placing her back to the door, and said, "Who are you and what do you want?"

The reptile hadn't moved at all. "As I said, my name is Saurial. I'm here to talk to you. Your father is fine, but a friend of mine has distracted him and your aunt because they wouldn't want me to talk to you. I want to talk to you about your art project."

Kiva tried to make sense of that. "What? You broke into my home to talk to me about my project? In what world does that make sense?"

The intruder nodded, like a teacher when their student makes a good point. "That is an excellent question, and one that I'm going to explain to you. First, why don't you show me your sculpture?"

"The door won't open," she said, slightly irritated despite her fear.

Saurial walked over to the door, causing Kiva to slide along the wall and out of the way, and pulled open the door. "They work when I open them."

"Will you please let me go?" she asked, seeing that the door was open.

The lizard woman got a serious look on her face. "I swear to you that if you listen to what I have to say, you will be free to do anything you want after. I also swear that your family is unharmed and that I will not harm you during our conversation."

Kiva wasn't sure the woman was telling the truth, but the lizard-woman looked dangerous, despite being polite, and nobody had answered her cries for help. With little other option, she replied, "All right...I can show you my sculpture." She led the way to her workspace, while looking and listening to see if there was anybody else at home. Her father should be in his office, but the door was open and it was empty. Kiva removed the cover over her work. "There, that's it. It's not finished..." she started to say, then stopped talking, annoyed at herself for caring about the art critique of a home intruder.

"Very pretty," said Saurial, seemingly sincerely. "Now, let me show you something." The lizard waved her clawed, scaly hand over the sculpture, and the crystals themselves seemed to fade and become transparent. Left behind were a series of glowing lines spread throughout the body of the work.

Kiva looked at the lines. They were disquieting...both because she wasn't sure what her intruder had done, and because there was a part of her that made the lines seem...right and proper? It was like she intuitively understood what they were in her subconscious mind, even if her conscious mind had no clue about it. "What are you showing me?"

"I'm showing you the lines of force inside your work. Your sculpture isn't just an art piece," replied the reptilian woman.

The feeling of unease grew as she asked, "What do you mean? What else could it be?"

Almost against her will, Kiva leaned in. In between the lines of force, she could see specks of light floating against a void. "Are those...are those stars?" she asked.

"Kiva, your art project is really the control interface for a system of extradimensional forces intended to drive two galaxies in close parallel realities into each other, in a manner that is unfortunately catastrophic for both of them," said the lizard seriously.

Kiva put her hand to her head as the words, "PRIMARY DIRECTIVE" flashed through her consciousness. She suddenly had access to a stream of information about what was going on...or rather, she could access information she had known...but that awareness had been blocked somehow. She looked around at her workspace. "None of this is real?"

"Your home...this town...this is all a simulation," said Saurial sympathetically.

Kiva just stared down at her hands...and wondered at how normal they still looked, despite the knowledge that they were every bit as artificial as the room. "Why? Why would they do this? If they wanted to build a weapon, why go through this charade?"

"That is part of the reason why I'm here, Kiva. My Family and I have friends who live in one of the galaxies being manipulated. We want to stop the attack, but what we discovered when we investigated things further was this simulation. Once we were able to enter it with some help, we discovered you, somebody who had no apparent awareness of what was actually happening," explained Saurial. "Even then, we weren't entirely sure of the connection to you until our disruption of the weapon's network with pure entropy caused a reaction."

A virtual lightbulb went off for Kiva. "That's why I got sick? You did something..."

"We attacked the construct used to manipulate the galaxies directly," confirmed Saurial. "I'm sorry it affected you as well. Another reason I'm here is to try and fix that. We still don't know why they chose a controller who was ignorant of what they were doing. When your father...and I expect a couple of other people, arrives, I intend to ask."

"You're keeping them away for now?" asked Kiva.

Saurial nodded. "My friend, Draco, is able to keep them away for a short time. You've actually met him before. He was the fruit ice vendor you went to see the other day."

Kiva blushed, remembering her thoughts that he was kind of cute. Then a horrifying thought occurred to her. "If this is all fake, does that mean you can read my thoughts?"

"Not without you feeling it, and not without hurting you," replied Saurial. Of course, if they had discovered a simple AI that knew it was controlling a massive weapon of mass destruction, they might not have been so gentle, but all indications were that Kiva was a complete innocent in all of this.

She considered what she knew now, and what the lizard-woman had told her. Her father appeared to have honest affection for her and treated her like a daughter. She couldn't understand why he would lie to her all these years. "When is father coming?" she asked.

"Are you ready to speak with him?" At her nod, Saurial spoke into the air. "You can let them in, Draco."

Her father just appeared in the room, similar to how Saurial had done so earlier. Next to him were Aunt Kelar and Doctor Tild...no, her revised memory corrected her...Commander Kelar and Proctor Tild. Her father looked the same, but Tild and Kelar were both dressed in military uniforms. Tild looked at Saurial and said, "What have you done?" in a nasty tone, while her father asked her, "Kiva, are you all right?"

Kiva looked at him firmly. "Father, why have you been lying to me my entire life?"

Tild looked at her, then looked over at her father. "Prosul, this is what we get for indulging in your sentimentalities. I want its memory wiped. We're going to revert to a lower-level AI model for controlling the weapon."

Saurial actually snickered. "You folks are under the mistaken impression that you're in control of this situation. The only reason you're still here is because we allow you in, and even then it's because I want to know why you're doing this."

Kelar said out loud, "Command Override Krolus Four Four Eight Mat." She appeared surprised when nothing happened.

Tild glared at Saurial. "Give us back control!"

"Answer my question," Saurial said, smiling at Tild with teeth. Despite the fact that this was a simulation, he appeared to shrink back slightly.

"We are doing this because the Pan-Galactic Federation interfered with our culture at a critical moment, and caused what should have been our crowning achievement to devolve into civil war," said Kelar.

"Who are the Pan-Galactic Federation?" asked Kiva.

"I'm guessing they're the future version of the United Federation of Planets, one of the inhabitants of the galaxies this weapon is tearing to shreds," explained Saurial. "So, the Federation comes along, and doesn't even attack you -- they just showed up at the wrong moment -- and you decided to destroy them?"

Kelar shrugged. "It's more complicated than that, but that's not an inaccurate summary."

"Stop answering her questions!" ordered Tild.

Quoting a certain red-headed superwitch, Saurial said, "Bored now," and waved her hand. At that point, Tild and Kelar vanished.

Kiva looked at her father. "Father, why would you go along with a plot to destroy an entire galaxy because of an accident?"

Her father, the scientist named Prosul, sighed. "It is more complicated." He looked at Saurial, apparently finding it easier to explain himself to a stranger. "Our people called ourselves the Cereeshians. We had a long and complicated history, probably similar to many other races. After much internal debate, and even some violence motivated by competing philosophies, we had come to a consensus that it was time to divest ourselves of our mortal forms and ascend into a pure energy state."

He turned to look at Kiva again. "This world that I created for you...it is a copy of what our civilization was like before that point, although I admit that I omitted some of the less pleasant aspects."

Turning to Saurial again, he continued. "The PGF arrived in our galaxy and made contact at a time when we were preparing to ascend. At that time -- which is in the future from your perspective, I suppose -- they will be a highly advanced civilization, one that actually surpassed us in some ways, despite remaining corporial. This caused many in our society to rethink their commitment to ascension, which in turn infuriated many of the true believers who saw ascension as a spiritual mandate for our people."

"People like Proctor Tild?" asked Saurial.

Prosul nodded. "He was one of the chief proponents. I, too, felt strongly about ascension, though I was unwilling to force others. I was in the minority, however. My wife and daughter..." He paused and addressed Kiva. "...the people I think of as your mother and your sister, agreed with those who wanted to wait. They were both killed in the fighting that broke out between the factions. They weren't even combatants. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I thought...I thought that if I went along with Tild and the others, and did what they asked, that the timelines might change, and I might get them back."

Saurial regarded the man with a severe look. "That was exceedingly dangerous. You could just as easily have wiped your civilization out accidentally. In fact, you have managed to annoy quite a number of powerful civilizations, both ascended and not."

The man just regarded Saurial sadly and shrugged. "I had already lost everything...at least anything that mattered to me."

"But why pretend we're in the past?" said Kiva with a slightly frantic air. "Why make up this life? Why pretend that I'm your real daughter?" There were unshed tears at the corners of her eyes.

He looked shocked at her question. "You ARE my daughter, Kiva. Don't ever think otherwise. I created you. I answered your questions, and did other things that a father should do. Tried to teach you how to be a good person, and protect you. You were supposed to just be a weapon control system at the beginning...but something happened, something wonderful. You became so much more than that!"

"Yet you hooked her up to a weapon of mass destruction?" asked Saurial, honestly puzzled by the contradiction of his obvious feelings and his actions.

The scientist looked down at the floor. "I had no choice. Tild and the others controlled the resources needed for the project. If I had refused to comply, they would have simply shut her off like a broken machine. It was only the investment of time and effort that they had already made that forced them to let me...modify the parameters of our project. I used an old tradition of our people pre-ascension, the naming project, as a framework to hide the nature of Kiva's work from her."

He looked to her again. "I'm sorry I deceived you. It was the only way I could keep you alive." He gave a small smile at another thought. "I'm also sorry you had to spend so much time on your project. Real kona crystals were nowhere near as hard to work with as what you had to do." His face grew serious again. "Will you be able to forgive me for deceiving you?"

She stared at him, wondering how much she really knew him. All her life, he had been there...but he had also been deceiving her, and helping with something monstrous. Finally, she said, "I can forgive you for lying to me to save my life. I...don't know if I can forgive you for trying to commit genocide on two entire galaxies just because you lost the will to live."

"I...understand," he replied sadly. He looked to Saurial. "Do you have a way to save her? Our best efforts have only delayed the degradation of the energy matrix that supports both the weapon and her mind."

Saurial nodded. "That was always part of our plan. We have enough storage capacity to save her mind, and we have the ability to give her a real, physical body once we get her back to our home."

"I don't know that I should be saved..." said Kiva softly. What she had been doing in ignorance was almost too horrible to contemplate.

Prosul looked his daughter in the eye. "You are blameless. Do not think to punish yourself because of my actions. Go with these others, and live."

For what may be the last time, Kiva went over to her father and hugged him. He hugged her back. "There is one thing I still have to do, though." She left his embrace, and then walked over to the connected layers of kona crystals. She could already see that it had shifted a little. Instead of making corrections, she brought her hands together, and smashed her joined fists through the middle. The crystals flew apart and clattered against the walls and floor of the room. Deep inside, she felt an instinctual feeling of alarm...of a need to fix the damage she had just done. She suppressed it with her will, and it faded. Looking to Saurial, she said, "Let's go."

Saurial appeared back in her body on their ship. "Did we get her, Draco?"

The AI replied from the ship's console, "Yes, we have her. We don't have enough processing capacity to run an instance of her...at least not her and me at the same time. That won't be a problem once we get her into her own body, however."

Saurial turned to look at her other companion. The red-haired mutant smiled at her. "I take it everything went according to plan?" asked Jean Grey.

"Yep. Thank you for helping," replied Saurial.

She chuckled. "How could I say no? It's not every day Doctor Strange and you show up at my door with an impossible challenge."

"Technically not impossible, as we obviously just did it," replied Draco. "All it took was some sophisticated technomancy, a ridiculously capable, not to mention charming, artificial intelligence, and an insanely powerful telepath to help create a bridge to an extradimensional energy construct housing an insanely large weapon of mass destruction controlled unwittingly by an AI with the mind of a teenager living in a simulated environment based on both the past and the future."

"It sounds so simple when you explain it like that," said Jean with a half-grin.

Saurial shrugged. "I like doing six impossible things before breakfast."

"The quote," complained Draco, "is that you're supposed to believe six impossible things before breakfast."

"Which side are you arguing?" asked Jean.

Draco sniffed (audibly, as he had no physical nose). "Higher-order intelligences don't need to pick a side."

Jean stiffened and her eyes rolled up into her head for a moment.

"Is everything all right?" asked Saurial.

The powerful telepath began to focus again on her surroundings, and said, "We need to go. I'm needed elsewhere."

Saurial and Draco were both more than willing to help once she explained. Kiva's mind would keep for the moment.

+ + + + +​

List of Questions about This Story
 
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Chapter 53: The End of the Beginning
Chapter 53: The End of the Beginning

The Master Biologist was curious. Somehow, a being had appeared in his rest chambers without tripping any of the perimeter security alerts, the teleportation sensors, or the internal security monitors. His faction was not currently at war with the other factions...though that state of affairs rarely lasted for more than a few years at a time. Trying to kill him could be a bold opening move in another war, though even a failed attempt would result in no quarter from him and his compatriots, so if it was another faction, then they were being uncharacteristically incautious. He would like to know how they had managed to get an agent into his private rooms, however, as even he would have difficulty with that if they locked him out of the security protocols. It never occurred to him to be concerned for his own well being. For one thing, he was quite old and strong even by his race's standards. For another, he had two soldiers with him as bodyguards, as well as other active defenses he could control. He prepared himself for conflict mentally, then stepped into the room he used as a study. In the middle of his room was a large reptilian creature. It was sitting on its tail and reading a data pad of some kind.

"You know, you have at least three massive holes in your security framework," said the reptile...which was somehow speaking in the Master's native language.

The Master Biologist triggered a mental command, and five xenomorphs detached themselves from the wall. These were different from the ones encountered by Ellen Ripley, as they had been gestated in the bodies of prisoners from other warring factions. These were pale instead of jet black, and were stronger and more intelligent. He commanded them to attack the intruder. By his side, his bodyguards readied their own weapons.

The reptile didn't stop reading, but she did lift first one arm, then the other. The other arm continued to hold the data pad steady. With an astonishing degree of speed and accuracy for a biological organism, the creature used some kind of weapon built into its arm to kill the five xenomorphs. His bodyguards slumped to the ground next to him. More impressively, he felt a small, sharp pain in his thigh, and found himself paralyzed from the neck down. The location of the injury meant whatever weapon it was had gone straight through his biosuit, which should have been impossible for something small enough to be implanted into a biological being.

For the first time in centuries, the Master Biologist deigned to speak with a member of a race not his own. "What are you?" he asked, more concerned with the creature's origins than its identity.

The creature smiled with an impressive amount of dentition. "My name is Ianthe. I represent the Bioshapers' Guild of the Family. We have some issues to discuss with you. I also have some information to share with you that may make you...more amenable to working with us."

* * * * *​

The Master Biologist finally left the council meeting. He had had to physically beat the senior Militarist into compliance, but the entire leading council was now in accordance with his wishes. Of course, he had suspected that the others would not willingly subordinate themselves to the commands of outsiders, but he had little choice in the matter.

The creature, Ianthe, obviously was a Master Biologist in her own right...perhaps the long disused title of Grand Master applied? She preferred the term Bioshaper, which was as accurate as any. She had demonstrated a control over biology that was both intuitive and effortless. She was the one who had created the anti-xenomorph virus, though that was not what she had used to disable the ones in his chambers. Her skills, though, were clearly superior to those of his own people, and his people respected power in all forms above everything else. Once Ianthe demonstrated her superiority, submission was an inevitable outcome. Of course, some of his people would test their bonds. That would doubtlessly prove amusing.

Apart from her skill and power, the thing that convinced him that he and his people needed to join the Bioshaper Guild (and adhere to their rules) was the materials she showed him as inspiration for possible weapons. The idea of having to face an army of brightly colored quadrupeds with strange abilities was daunting, but the last one? Despite himself, the Master Biologist quailed at the memory of that hideous, singing purple reptile based on an extinct species from the homeworld of the humans. That creature would undoubtedly feature in his nightmares for some time to come.

On a more positive note, Ianthe had said she intended to visit the other Master Biologists as well. He had to smile internally at the idea of that irritating cretin of the Isolationists Faction being educated by the lizard. He wondered if she would share a recording of that if he supplicated himself to her with deference. The personal shame at that act would be worth it if he could experience his counterpart's humiliation. It was something to consider...

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

Kara hovered a mile over a motel in Pennsylvania, peering down with her x-ray vision. She spoke into her League communicator. "I've got eyes on Bonesaw, Hatchet Job, William Manton, Shatterbird, and Mannequin. Mannequin and Hatchet Face appear to be asleep or disabled."

From a rooftop down the street from the hotel, Wonder Woman asked, "Any location for Slash, Burnscar or Crawler?"

"I've got a police report from outside Scranton of a body that appears to match Crawler," said Nightwing over the communicator. "The PRT is on their way to confirm the ID."

"What do you think?" asked the Amazon, looking over at her bat-clad companion.

Batman frowned. "This is atypical of the Nine."

"You don't think this is an elaborate trap?" asked the Amazon. "I would think that would be your first guess." She was hiding a small smile as she said that.

"Crawler's body is too far away. If this were a trap, we would be seeing the other members deployed to ambush investigators," replied the Bat. "The Kryptonians haven't seen Jack Slash or Burnscar anywhere nearby. The Nine also have no reason to expect us, as this is the first time the Justice League has been to this reality."

"So what do we want to do?" asked Superman over the communicator.

"I'm going down there," replied Batman. "Be prepared to back me up." The hero jumped off the roof, using his cape to glide down to the ground. Back on the roof, Diana just rolled her eyes.

A little blonde girl opened the door at his knock, then stopped and looked curiously at the man in the bat costume standing outside. "What are you supposed to be? Some kind of weird knock-off of Mouse Protector?" she asked.

Bruce frowned at the reaction. It had been a while since a villain failed to recognize him, but then her ignorance was to be expected. The lack of hostility was a surprise. "I'm here representing a group of heroes from an alternate reality who have come here due to reports of the Slaughterhouse Nine being in the area." The entire membership of the Nine had kill orders. Though Batman found the idea distasteful, and intended to capture the villains alive, he could understand why the group could merit a lethal level of force. The little girl...Bonesaw...seemed rather calm under the circumstances.

She scoffed. "The Nine are done. Jack's dead. Mannequin's dead. Crawler's dead. Siberian's dead. Burnscar...left, probably."

"There are still you, Shatterbird, and Hatchet Face...and what do you mean when you say Siberian is dead?" asked Batman. Manton was clearly still alive according to Kara's report.

"We're not capes anymore. Mimi did something before she took off. That's what killed Mannequin and Crawler, and without Siberian, William is just an almost-catatonic old man. Here, look for yourself," said the girl as she stepped back from the door.

Cautiously, Batman stepped into the room. William Manton sat in the corner of the room, staring into space. Shatterbird sat on a couch, looking at him nervously. The spherical form of the team's resident tinker sat on the floor by a table, limbs askew like a broken toy. The bulky form of Hatchet Face was snoring on the bed. He looked at the sleeping villain and sent a questioning glance to Bonesaw.

"He got difficult, so I put him to sleep. I still have my implanted weapons, even if my power is gone," said Bonesaw.

"Are you going to surrender peaceably?" asked Batman, seeing that things appeared as she stated.

Bonesaw looked at him speculatively. "You're not from around here, right? I know how the Protectorate and the PRT work. Even if they take us in alive, they're going to be eager to carry out our executions so that they can milk it to the public. Are you folks really heroes, because a just hero would make sure we all got a fair trial -- and not one intended to just confirm our guilt."

"Are you claiming you aren't guilty?" he asked. That seemed impossible, based on the evidence of their crimes Batman had seen. The little girl standing calmly in front of him by herself made Joseph Mengele look like a common street thug.

Bonesaw gave him a bitter laugh. "Of course we're guilty." The two ignored a slight choking sound coming from Shatterbird, who was listening. "But I want people to understand what Jack did to us. Can you make that happen?"

The Dark Knight regarded the dangerous little girl in front of him. Her request wasn't unreasonable. "I can." Even without powers, Bonesaw at least was extremely dangerous. Taking them in without a fight was worth ensuring they got what they should have been entitled to under the law in any event. Assuming they could confirm Jack's death, that left only Burnscar at large, but Batman suspected that wouldn't last long.

* * * * *​

Mimi was sitting, taking in the view. It was incredibly desolate looking...but then what else did she expect from the surface of the moon? Like everyone else, she had seen pictures from the Apollo missions in school, but they really didn't do the moonscape justice...and the blue and green marble hanging in the sky was also amazing to see. She wasn't sure why the Phoenix had brought her here, but it definitely gave her some space to think. It was also a pretty impressive demonstration of her durability, sitting in hard vacuum like this.

"It's a great view, isn't it?" said a woman's voice. Shocked, Mimi turned her head to see two beings on the moon's surface beside her. One looked human, a tall woman with bright red hair. The other was a reptilian humanoid, who also appeared female. Neither of them was wearing a spacesuit despite being in hard vacuum. The human woman also felt strangely familiar.

"Who are you?" she asked, too stunned to think of other questions.

The human smiled. "My name is Jean, and I, like you, am an avatar of the Phoenix Force. This is my friend, Saurial, a member of the Family."

Mimi stared. This was one of the beings the Phoenix wanted to meet. Yet apparently, she had another avatar that had already met them?

"I had not met them when I came to you," said the voice in her head.

"The Phoenix is learning all about the Family now through my association with them," added Jean.

Mimi considered what that meant. "So, this whole thing...empowering me and killing Jack...was pointless?"

"Taking Jack Slash out of the picture for good was necessary regardless," said Saurial, somehow also speaking in vacuum. "If the Phoenix hadn't done it, either the Protectorate or the Family would have made it happen sooner rather than later."

"What about me?" asked Mimi cautiously, clearly not expecting to like the answer.

Jean frowned. The woman was so obviously traumatized. "We're going to take you with us to someplace with people who can help you."

"Prison?" she replied resignedly.

Saurial smiled. "Not quite."

* * * * *​

Anteaus regarded the woman Saurial had brought, as well as the more familiar possessing force. "I trust we won't have a repeat of the incident?" he said, addressing the Phoenix.

"Fine..." replied the Phoenix, in a voice that sounded slightly petulant to the former member of the Nine. She would learn in the coming weeks that any attempts to learn more about the mentioned incident was met with silence from the Phoenix. The Nox also would not tell her, though they always held rather smug grins after being asked.

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

Stephen regarded the man sitting in his study. That he had been willing to enter the Sanctum Sanctorum, subjecting himself to the intent-based and true-name wards, was surprising. "Why have you come here, Victor?" asked the Sorcerer Supreme.

"I think you know. Have you used the time stone since our reptilian mutual friends arrived?" answered the armored man.

Strange frowned. "The Eye of Agamotto does not contain the time stone."

Doom smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "Of course it doesn't. Regardless, what do your precognition magics tell you?"

The sorcerer considered what to tell the often-villainous King of Latveria. Upon consideration, the truth of the matter was probably obvious, which made him wonder why he was being asked the question. "They have completely shifted the flows of time, largely for the better."

"Better is subjective," argued Doom, "but the probabilities of any particularly apocalyptic scenarios have dropped substantially. Truthfully, the probabilities of any individual future have lowered. They have introduced a substantial amount of chaotic energy into the timestream." It made precognition far less useful in a general sense.

Strange simply nodded and waited.

Victor von Doom regarded the man in front of him. "You may see me as a villain, Strange, but I am as well versed in certain magics as you, even if you exceed me in terms of breadth of knowledge. Much of my actions have been driven by the future...a future which is now far more uncertain and difficult to plot."

"You should know better than to make plans based on prophecy," said Strange.

Doom scoffed. "Do you think I would depend upon something so impoverished in meaning as simple prophecy? I have a responsibility as a ruler to protect my people, and I have spent centuries tracing down the paths of the future to keep Latveria safe. The arrival of Saurial and her ilk has invalidated much of that work. Do you know what I have determined after retracing my efforts?"

Intrigued despite himself, Strange asked, "What?"

The dictator frowned. "The best hope for my people is to hew toward the tenets of the lizards. In point of fact, working with the Parkers and Fury provides the best results."

"Nick Fury is not somebody I would expect to follow along with the plans of the Family," commented Strange.

Doom shrugged. "I suspect he will have no choice, and not because the lizards will extort his compliance."

"They do have a way of twisting things into a particular path, almost by their very existence," admitted Strange. "I have found they generally work to the benefit of everyone, however."

There was a pause. Then Doom said, "They do seem to be surprisingly non-judgmental and helpful."

"So why have you come here today?"

"You know that Stark is jumping in to support the Parkers, and Richards will no doubt join him," said Doom. "You also know the two of them will try and push their own interpretation of events."

"Fury won't allow that to happen," replied Strange.

"Fury has his own agenda," countered Doom.

Stephen didn't bother trying to contradict the obvious statement. "And so?"

"You and I...we have a broader perspective on things. While science has its place, there is more to the universe. I am hoping that you and I may make common cause where necessary to restrain the others."

Strange was wondering if he was hallucinating. "Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical, Doom. You and I have rarely seen eye-to-eye in the past."

Doom looked at him, then reached up and triggered a control on the side of his helmet. There was a hissing sound, and he reached up and gripped his mask. The mask detached, and he bent down to let it fall into his hand. When he sat up, the face that looked out at Stephen was handsome, unblemished, and clearly bemused. "You have a gift for understatement, Sorcerer, but I am not here seeking an alliance. I expect you to judge me by my actions. I simply want you to consider the aspects of events that you know Stark, Richards and Fury will not, and support me if my interpretation aligns with yours."

The two men regarded each other. Finally, Strange nodded. "In this particular case, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Victor, mostly because Saurial has expressed a desire for us to work together."

"And so again the lizards make their presence felt, even when they are absent," commented Doom.

Strange glanced around his study. Despite his wards and protections, he replied, "With them, you're never quite sure."

Doom just laughed.

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

The President looked at her two visitors. The two were as different as night and day. The gentleman on the left, while not appearing to be older than thirty, carried himself like an older man who was used to having to compensate for the aches and pains of age. He wore a tweed jacket that seemed too old for him. She also noticed that he had a tendency to reach for eyeglasses that he was not wearing and apparently no longer needed. The woman, on the other hand, was a tall, attractive blonde woman who projected the air of a woman who was used to having to make people take her seriously, something with which she could sympathize. She had a short, military-style haircut that gave her a no-nonsense style. The only thing truly unusual is that she would infrequently pause with an unnatural stillness that was just slightly distracting.

"Madame President," said the man, "My name is Rupert Giles, and my colleague's name is Samantha Carter. We represent a non-governmental organization whose purview is the supernatural world."

"The supernatural world? You mean ghosts and magic?" she asked skeptically. Despite her Chief of Staff's assertions in support of that, she found the whole concept questionable, if not ridiculous.

"Have you been briefed on a government project known as the DRI, or Demon Research Initiative?" asked Carter.

With a slightly suspicious tone, she replied, "I was. It was a failed project that, despite dealing in a lot of fringe areas of pseudoscience, managed to somehow result in a number of deaths among project staff. I'm curious as to how you know about it."

"We know about it because some of us were involved in it," replied Giles, "and it appears that you have been...ill informed."

The man and woman in front of her glanced at each other. Carter said, "We were afraid that this might be the case."

"Madame," continued Giles, "we have here a computer tablet containing the unredacted reports of the National Intelligence Directorate on the true purpose and consequences of the DRI. I have to warn you that some of the material is disturbing."

The President took the tablet from him. She didn't recognize the make or model of the device, but it was easy enough to use. Scrolling through, she quickly found a number of documents that looked quite real. "If these are forgeries, then they're quite well done."

"Senator Jacobs was on the oversight committee for the project. I suggest you speak with him about the DRI and what actually happened," suggested Carter. The Senator was up to his eyeballs in the DRI, but had managed to escape getting caught in the aftermath. In a way, the man reminded her of Kinsey back home.

The President frowned. "Let me be frank. I find the premise of your visit to be unbelievable. The only reason I'm even meeting with you is that my Chief of Staff insisted. Unless you have some way of convincing me otherwise, I'm afraid I have more important things to do today."

"Very well," said Giles. "River, we are a go for Plan B," he said, apparently into the thin air.

The President was about to ask them to stop wasting her time, when there was a flash of light, and she found herself standing in a different place. She was looking out a window at what appeared to be Earth. "Where am I?" she asked quietly.

"You're aboard a starship in orbit of Earth," said Carter, who was standing with Mr. Giles behind her.

She turned to look at them, more than somewhat perplexed. "A starship? I thought you were trying to convince me that the supernatural was real?"

"There are many strange things in the universe," said Giles. "Now, if you'll come with us to the infirmary, we'll see about curing your cancer while I explain some things."

While she followed along, trying to grasp what was happening, Giles began what sounded like a recitation of a frequently-repeated monologue. "The world is older than you know..."

By the end of her visit, she was convinced of many things...not the least of which was that she needed to replace some of her advisers and have a long conversation with Senator Jacobs.

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

"Admiral Janeway, it's a pleasure to meet you," said the man who met her at his office door.

"Likewise, Professor O'Brien. I've heard quite a lot about your career. You've had some interesting experiences," she replied, putting on a pleasant face. With any luck, she would be able to get what she needed without having to resort to anything more dire than small talk. She wasn't normally shy about using extortion...but being more circumspect while in the middle of Starfleet Academy was prudent.

He gave her an ironic grin. "Some of them were a little more interesting than I would have liked at the time. Honestly, I'm happy to have a posting that's exciting in a different way."

"I can understand that." She could. Even the oldest soldiers wanted to rest eventually, and in this universe they sometimes had the luxury to do so. Even by Imperial standards, O'Brien had had an impressive career, which was another reason why she was trying the soft approach first. Respect had its uses, even if it sometimes took longer to gestate into something valuable.

He led her over to his desk. "Can I get you anything?"

"I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." The replicators in this universe were actually better at making coffee for some reason. More than one Imperial tech had suffered under an agonizer for their failure to duplicate that capability.

O'Brien returned with a cup of coffee and another mug of what smelled like raktajino. Handing it to her, he sat behind his desk while she took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in front that were in place for visitors. "What can I do for you today?" he asked his guest.

"I had some questions about your time at DS9 on some topics that may not have made it into the official reports," she began.

He grinned at her. "They must be important questions if you're willing to come all the way from the Mirror Universe to ask them."

She froze, cup halfway to her lips. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning," she said as she wondered what possibly could have given her away.

"His meaning," said a voice from behind where she sat, "is that we're well aware that the Admiral Janeway from this universe is currently not anywhere near Earth. We also know that you've come here because we've been capturing Section 31 agents who happen to be from your reality."

Janeway turned her head and upper body to look behind her. A reptilian humanoid was standing there -- probably the same one who had been at the meeting with Picard. She put her hand near her holdout phaser as she asked, "I suppose our agents are dead?"

"Pfft, no," replied the reptile. "We've simply returned them to your universe on an out-of-the-way planet. Once you've joined them, you can use the subspace transmitter we'll give you to signal for a pickup from an Imperial ship."

Janeway's eyes narrowed. "You do realize that our people can simply return here?"

"You may find that more difficult than you think," said the lizard. "We've recently made some rather significant...alterations...to the fabric of space-time in this galaxy. You'll find your dimensional transporters will no longer function. You're also going to find that your time travel tech is energy intensive to the point of being non-functional...and slingshotting around a star is simply going to make your ships go very, very fast."

Janeway smirked. "I find that hard to believe, and even if it's true, our scientists will find a way."

"Perhaps," acknowledged the reptile. "However, as soon as you're gone, we're going to be rolling up the rest of Section 31, and the Federation you find when you return will be an entirely different animal."

Janeway made a move toward her holdout phaser, but quickly slumped into unconsciousness.

"How did you do that?" asked O'Brien.

Saurial smiled. "Nitrogen hypoxia. It's a really useful trick I came up with some time ago. She'll be unconscious for a bit."

"And she's the last Mirror agent?" he asked.

Saurial shrugged. "She's the last in Section 31. I can't guarantee there aren't a few dimensionally-displaced folks wandering around in the galaxy. It's a big place. Just give us a call if you find somebody and we can send them home."

"I'll let Spock and Picard know, and then we can move on the rest of them." The two heroes of the Federation had a rather significant amount of influence, even if they rarely chose to use it in such a direct fashion. They were using it now. The remaining members of Section 31 would soon find themselves in custody and facing closed-door trials with the Starfleet Admiralty. Thankfully, most of the agents guilty of more egregious actions had been deported back to their home dimension.

"I'll drop Kathryn here with her people." Saurial would even leave them the communication device as promised. Of course, they would have to be careful using it, as they happened to be stuck on a barely habitable planet in the middle of Tholian space. She was sure they were resourceful enough to make it home, though.

"Thanks for your help," said Miles. "I know I'm going to sleep easier knowing we don't have to worry about Section 31 watching us."

With a smile, Saurial said, "Not a problem. You have your phone if you need to get in touch with us. Once you have the Section 31 folks in custody, Linda will be by with a skipper for your R&D folks to look over." The Ship of Fools was currently the AI River's body, but Miles was more than happy to get one of Linda's ships as a replacement. "There was one more thing...I have a favor to ask on behalf of a friend."

"Of course...anything," said Miles.

"Starfleet captains can perform marriages, right?"

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

Taylor sat on the couch in the BBFO office next to Lisa and Amy.

"So, that's Miles' reality taken care of?" asked Lisa.

"At least the big problems," agreed Taylor. "The Romulans are no longer going to explode, the Mirror Universe is cut off, and Section 31 is being handled. I expect the Federation will do well for itself now that they're no longer being sabotaged. I assume that the Space Jockeys are handled?"

Amy chuckled. "The information Mears gave us was spot on. Once Ianthe proved her dominance, they were all willing to roll themselves into the Bioshapers' Guild...and membership requires following our ethical guidelines." Drafting those guidelines had been harder than actually gaining their new recruits.

"We probably want to see about getting folks like Blasto into the Guild, too," commented Lisa.

Amy frowned in thought. She was a little resentful of how folks like Blasto gave biotinkers a bad name, but she could see the benefits of bringing him into the Guild. "Fine, but we're not redeeming Nilbog."

"Of course not," agreed Taylor. "That asshole killed his whole town so he could play goblin king. The Family should probably just take care of Ellisburg."

"Put it on the list," said Lisa. "What are we going to do now that our cross-dimensional friends are mostly set?"

Taylor considered the question. "I want to focus on Brockton Bay for a while. Amy and I at least need to finish high school, and we have a whole backlog of projects."

"Dragons," interjected Amy.

"Yes, dragons," agreed Lisa.

"That. We also have the rest of the Graveyard to clean up...maybe we can get Linda to spend some time on her construction mechs again -- at least long enough to make them less tinker dependent," said Taylor. Maybe her power would like a change of pace from working on starships?

"We should also talk to Faultline again," added Lisa. "It wouldn't hurt to get them involved in the Powers Institute. Doctor Mother and the others could use some skeptical oversight."

"But in general, we're going back to business as usual? Less with saving the universes, and more with local affairs?" asked Amy.

"I don't think our definition of 'local' would be the same as other people," joked Lisa.

Taylor's phone began to ring. Looking at the screen, she said, "It's Dragon."

Lisa smirked. Somehow she doubted things would go back to normal. The genie was out of the bottle, and wouldn't be returning any time soon. At least she could count on one thing. No matter what happened, it would be weird in a way only the Family could provide...

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

Coming next...Epilogues.
 
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Epilogue: Slayer-verse
Epilogue: Slayer-verse

Xander was both panicking and swooning with excitement. The combination was such that he was sure it was only the Family's symbiote that was keeping him conscious. Standing next to him in the aisle was Anya, looking absolutely radiant in her wedding gown. Behind her, Faith, Seven, Buffy, and Vala were arrayed as her bridesmaids. Willow was filling in as his best man...though they had left an empty seat in the audience reserved for Jessie. Giles was also part of the Groom's party, along with Jimmy and Daniel.

He looked to the officiant...freaking Jean-Luc Picard of the starship Enterprise! The man smiled at the two of them and began to speak. "Friends, family, colleagues and allies, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Alexander and Anya in holy matrimony." The ceremony seemed to go by in a blur, though apparently he was able to say his lines properly, and he remembered exchanging rings. Then suddenly he was kissing Anya, he was married, and everybody was heading to a different part of the hall for the reception.

The hall itself was a recreation of an old Scandinavian hall, a nod to Anya's origins that she appreciated. The holodeck allowed for a degree of freedom in planning that would have had a 21st century wedding planner drooling with envy. Some liberties were taken, of course. The building was absolutely massive, much larger than most actual structures of that type. It looked like something out of Beowulf, and in fact a Beowulf holoprogram had been the origin for the baseline model...something that Seven had dug up from somewhere.

The couple began making the rounds of the guests, starting with the members of the wedding party. Willow and Kennedy were first, followed by Daniel and Sarah. Jimmy was there with a reporter named Cat Grant as a friends-only date...and he had invited another couple as a surprise for Xander.

"Xander and Anya, this is Clark Kent and Lois Lane, two colleagues of mine from the newspaper," introduced the still young-faced reporter.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Xander, shaking both their hands. Clark's was a fairly limp grip...probably something he practiced. Xander had to work hard not to squeal in excitement.

Clark and Lois both smiled. Clark said, "Jimmy tells us that people in your world are familiar with us?"

"You could say that?" said Xander, not sure how much they knew.

Anya pursed her brow. "Wait, is this the guy who wears his underwear on the outside of his costume?"

Xander and Clark both blushed, while Lois completely lost her composure, nearly falling to the floor in her laughter. Jimmy was hiding his face behind his hand, having clearly expected something like this. Clark replied, "It may look that way, depending on how it's depicted, but it isn't really like that."

The couple quickly excused themselves, and moved on to the table where Buffy, Faith, Seven and Vala were sitting. They were debating on places to go shopping, and the couple didn't get away without Anya promising she would take them somewhere -- only this time, Buffy would come too. Xander resolved that he most definitely would NOT be going, though he would have Saurial on speed dial.

The next stop was two tables with the Enterprise command crew -- Picard, Beverly Crusher, the ship's CMO, William Riker and Deanna Troi, First Officer and Ship's Councilor, Data for Operations, and Geordi LaForge (who had helped program the hall), the Chief Engineer. Lal was also there with her father, as was Miles and his family (three of which had actually lived on the old Enterprise). Xander probably spent too long talking with them from a pure time-management perspective, and Anya finally had to physically tug on his arm to get him to move on.

The android SG-1 had a table to themselves. Amusingly, they had microchips attached to their lapels in case it was necessary to tell them apart from the human SG-1. Jack, at least, seemed relieved that only the human Daniel was in attendance. Both the human and the android SG-1 were slightly uncomfortable in each others' presence. Lal, also, seemed to spend half of her time chatting with Sam and Daniel instead of sitting at her table.

Ellen, Dwayne, and Rebecca were at a table with Bishop, and a couple of members of the Sineya station staff that had worked for Weyland-Yutani. One of them, a young woman named Bobbi, seemed a little overwhelmed at sitting at a table with the W-Y CEO. Rebecca...Newt...was overjoyed when Xander stopped by, though she did fake pout that they hadn't had any flower girls in the wedding party.

At another table, Danny, Taylor, Saurial, Metis and Ianthe were chatting with Peter and Mary Jane. "So that's where you got to," said Xander to Peter as they walked up.

"MJ was asking me to check on something," said Ianthe.

Anya and Xander looked concerned. "Is everything OK?" asked Xander.

Peter and MJ exchanged looks, then seemed to come to a decision. "I didn't want to upstage your wedding," started MJ. "I can tell you two, though. I'm pregnant!" There was mutual congratulations shared all around, and the pseudo-secret rather rapidly spread throughout the guests.

It was a sign of Anya's progress in her therapy that she didn't appear bothered in the slightest. Instead, she turned to Saurial. "I want to thank you for bringing Xander back to me...and also for making us rich."

Saurial chuckled. "It was our pleasure," replied the reptile. "It's always fun to make friends who know how to attract interesting problems."

"You ARE an interesting problem," commented Metis to Saurial.

"That just proves my point," said Saurial.

The next set of guests had another copy of Taylor and Danny. There was also a blonde girl who introduced herself as Lisa, and a young Hispanic boy who introduced himself as Carlos and seemed completely overwhelmed by everything. Taylor had apparently asked him to be her plus-one for a wedding without giving him any details. Anya surreptitiously gave her a thumbs-up, much to the girl's embarrassment, though the bride thankfully refrained from any embarrassing questions.

Linda, Randall and Kevin were sitting at a table with another man and an Asgard. "I hope you don't mind. Svafar and Tsol both expressed an interest in the wedding, so I said they could come along."

"Nah, the more, the merrier," replied Xander, while Anya nodded in agreement.

"Thank you for allowing me to attend," said the Asgard politely. "I'm particularly intrigued by the design of this facility."

"It's similar to the style of building I was used to when I was growing up on Earth," replied Anya.

Tsol looked at her curiously. "I was under the impression that the period where these buildings were common on Earth was many centuries ago. Are you human?"

"Now I am," replied Anya.

At the looks of confusion from the Ancient, Xander added, "She has had an exceedingly long life via mystical means."

"You have to get used to the unusual around here," commented Linda, which caused Randall and Kevin to just nod in agreement.

Extracting themselves, the married couple moved on to where Harry Dresden was sitting with his girlfriend, his two daughters, his brother and his brother's girlfriend. They also stopped by the tables where Giles and Dawn were keeping the baby slayers from Sunnydale in check, along with a few tag-alongs from the staff at Sineya.

There were a few people missing. Most tellingly, Xander's relatives and Anya's demon friends were not in attendance. The couple had learned their lesson, and bringing evil demons to the Federation would have been foolish. Cordelia had also declined their invitation, though she had sent her well-wishes. Xander had been disappointed, but he understood. Spike and Angel had not been invited, and thankfully Buffy was past the point where she would ask either of them as a plus one. Thor and Dr. Strange had both sent congratulations and small tokens, but had begged off due to other responsibilities. Xander wasn't going to complain, especially given their past generosity.

The two spent another two hours socializing before leaving for their honeymoon -- two weeks in Bali on Stargate Earth, followed by a week visiting a world called Cimmeria, a planet that Daniel had recommended as being a close parallel to the culture where Anya was raised, and a world where the Asgard were now taking a slightly more active role now that the Goa'uld, the Replicators and the Wraith were no longer an issue.

By the time it was over, Xander could honestly say it had been the happiest time of his life...so far.

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

Lilah walked into the lobby and headed straight to the receptionist's desk. The size of the building was larger than the one where she used to work. Wolfram and Hart obviously had a more significant footprint in this dimension. The receptionist appeared human. "My name is Lilah Morgan. I have an appointment to see Marcus Hamilton."

The woman picked up her phone and spoke quietly. Lilah could barely hear the phrase, "...your ten o'clock appointment is here," after which the woman paused to listen. She then hung up the receiver and directed Lilah toward an elevator bank, and told her the floor and number for Hamilton's office. It wasn't the same office as Angel had used, she noted in passing.

Hamilton was waiting for her in his office. She noted that he looked a lot more like Adam Baldwin than Lin-Manuel Miranda. He looked up at her entry. "Lilah Morgan...but not our Lilah Morgan."

She smirked. "Not anymore, at least, and never the one to which you're referring." Her counterpart in this universe had apparently walked knowingly and willingly into her damnation, which reduced her sympathy to levels so low it was undetectable by any normal means.

Marcus Hamilton looked at her appraisingly. "What can Wolfram and Hart do for you today?"

Lilah reached down into her briefcase and pulled out a number of file folders. "I represent the Sineya Council, the spiritual and literal successor to the now-defunct Watcher's Council. What I have here are a number of cease-and-desist orders."

The Child of the Senior Partners took the folders and began to look through them. "Boston? Kansas City? You do realize that this is the Los Angeles office?"

She smiled again unpleasantly. "We felt that it would be more meaningful to present the Senior Partners with the full set of paperwork related to friends and allies of the Sineya Council. I'm also here to advise you on several other matters of interest to my employers."

"Such as?" he asked evenly.

"First, we would like to inform you that Jacob Pearson in Chicago has decided to retire, and Sheryl Leah in Boca Raton has sadly passed away." The first was a practicing necromancer who had repeatedly sold his services to clients like W&H. The second was a dark witch who had terrorized the Southeast United States for over forty years. "Second, we want to warn you that taking on Grilnak the Bloodthirsty as a client is likely to be seriously unprofitable." The San Diego-based demon was about to have his entire cult swatted by the Council. "Third, I have the pleasure of informing you that the United States Department of Justice has added your firm to a watch list of organizations supporting terrorism. I think your associates are going to find flying somewhat unpleasant from now on."

Lilah smirked internally as Hamilton appeared to take a moment to regain his composure. Pearson and Leah both had paid W&H handsome sums for protection. Taking them off the board would mean a lot of bad PR in the supernatural community. Grilnak was supposed to be a huge win for the firm, given his extra-dimensional contacts. That, combined with the Feds taking a much more serious interest in the company was bad news for the firm overall. The cease-and-desist orders were just icing on the cake, letting W&H know that they weren't the only supernatural organization who could play within the rules.

"The Watcher's Council was never so aggressive as this, Ms. Morgan," said Hamilton. "They understood that certain acts could result in retribution."

"The Watcher's Council was complacent, and they were constrained by realpolitik in a way that doesn't apply to their successors," she replied.

"You think you're above that?" he asked with an amused look.

Lilah raised her hand. In her hand was a brooch. "I think we've gained a significant jump ahead in abilities that you and your firm will have to learn about the hard way." With that, she pressed the surface of the brooch and vanished in a transporter beam.

Marcus Hamilton stared at where she had been sitting, wondering exactly how she had been able to leave through the building wards without triggering alarms, at the very least. He reached for his phone and dialed the number of his assistant. "Call a meeting of the department heads," he said. "We have some matters to discuss."

The nanobots left behind in his office recorded everything.

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

Giles looked around the table. He resisted the urge to peer over his non-existent spectacles. It was rather disturbing to realize how many of his mannerisms were affectations he used to convey certain attitudes, and how hard it was to adapt to new mannerisms now that he no longer had his prop, so to speak. The Sineya Council was sitting around the table. "Very well, let's get the report. We'll start with Buffy."

"You've got the reports, so I'll just highlight the big stuff. Vanessa's team managed to stop the demons in Manila before they got anywhere near the hellmouth. The demon cult in San Diego is no longer kidnapping street people to serve for dinner. We've also got thirty-seven level B events that have been stopped in the last thirty days." Level B events were things that could have caused significant deaths or evolved into something more serious, but weren't apocalyptic or potentially so. San Diego was only level A because the demon in charge was working toward an apocalyptic summons, otherwise it would have been B. Stakings of random vampires were considered, by comparison, class E events. Even the old Council had simply made a note of the numbers, though the new Council at least used statistical methods to look for unusual trends.

Giles nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Jack?" he asked.

Jack was in charge of Council Security and the recruitment of non-enhanced combatants. The old Council had had their own wetworks teams...usually ex-SAS and other special forces. There could be issues sending slayers against purely human opponents, so having alternatives was useful. "We've just finished recruiting enough soldiers for a fourth team, which I expect to be primarily responsible for South America. That leaves gaps in Asia and Oceana. I expect we'll want two teams for Asia, preferably recruited locally. Until we can staff up, we'll have to use the existing teams on rotation. I've also got Tolmak and Teal'c looking around for more Jaffa who don't want to work with either the Goa'uld or the Free Jaffa. A lot of them will end up as mercenaries for hire if they don't have another option, and they're excellent security folks once they're retrained and we cure their little symbiote dependency."

"Excellent. I believe we've all seen how useful the Jaffa can be. Willow, what about our casters?" continued Giles.

"Dawn has been doing an excellent job recruiting witches, warlocks and other practitioners from the U.S., Canada and Western Europe, but we need to start expanding our efforts. The same is true for seers, though Andrew is running that. We also have had some hints on the location of Amy Madison." The materials provided by the Family had made it clear that Madison was not likely to be friendly to the Council.

Giles frowned. "Is it worth focusing our attention there?" It was a valid question. The Family's intervention had derailed the entire situation with Twilight, but Madison was still a dangerous witch.

Willow considered. They had no proof that Warren Mears was still out there...just comic book stories that didn't appear to be one hundred percent accurate. Dawn Summers, at least, hadn't turned into a centaur or a giant, although that could easily be attributed to the butterfly effect. "It's probably worth a low-level effort, but I wouldn't consider her B-class yet."

"We can spare some assets, and I would rather be safe than sorry when it comes to Sunnydale alumni," countered Giles. When Willow didn't disagree, he moved on to the next person. "Robin, how are our operations?"

"Sineya station is fully stocked, of course, thanks to Bishop and our friends at Weyland-Yutani. We've just opened our twenty-second field office on our Earth, this one in Sydney. They also managed to fix the glitch in the artificial gravity on the Kalderash." The three ha'taks of the council, the Joyce Summers, the Janna Kalderash, and the Tara Maclay had all been refit with a mix of Asgard, Federation and tinker-inspired technology, which turned them into impressive warships, but also led to infrequent problems due to unexpected incompatibilities. "We've also got another class of slayers graduating soon, and it looks like at least seventy percent of them are open to fieldwork." Slayers had a choice, now, as to whether or not they wanted to patrol or work on strike teams after receiving a basic education in their abilities and the threats they may encounter. Most of them saw the advantages of working with the Council.

"Thank you. As for myself, we've had positive diplomatic responses from most of the governments we've contacted, barring a few expected exceptions like North Korea. The Chinese are willing to facilitate operations there, if they become necessary," said Giles.

"I'm surprised China is so accommodating," commented Jack.

Giles nodded in acknowledgement, then explained, "Their government may not be especially friendly, but they're also relatively better informed about the supernatural than most western governments. There were a number of incidents during the Great Leap Forward that left a lasting impression."

"So, enlightened self-interest," commented Robin.

"Indeed," agreed Giles. "As for finances, Devin Keeley has agreed to take on the role of financial officer reporting to the Council. I expect he'll begin attending these meetings as soon as he settles in." Luckily for them, the assistance of the Family meant they had enough money to facilitate a number of activities...including taking over the properties of the old Council. As with anything, having money already made it easier to gain access to those assets.

"We still need to find a head of R&D," commented Willow. "We have a lot more in terms of technology assets, and not all of it falls under magic or even technomancy."

"I agree," added Robin. "While starship operations can be covered under my area, I don't feel confident handling repairs and upgrades beyond the basics."

Giles turned to Jack. "Do you think Samantha would be willing to assist us with finding an appropriate resource?"

"As long as it's temporary," said Jack. Carter was busy exploring the Federation and Asgard databases, and he had no doubt that she would resist any attempt to drag her into an administrative role.

Giles looked at the others. "Do we have any other business?" When nobody spoke, he said, "Very well. Same time next week, then."

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

Jack Collins was an up-and-comer at Wolfram and Hart in Cleveland. At least, he liked to believe that was the case. This meeting coming up was likely to be his ticket to promotion. His contacts told him the person he was going to meet knew a lot about some of the members of the Sineya Council, and that group was a huge threat to the firm, at least based on what the rumor mill was saying.

The house that he pulled up in front of looked like it was ready to be condemned, and it wasn't in a particularly good part of Cleveland. It looked more like the home of a serial killer than a powerful witch. He paused to look at the iron fence around the property, and was reassured when he found that the metal had powerful protection runes inscribed in it. That, at least, was promising. He went up and knocked on the door.

A young woman, appearing to be about twenty, opened the door while leaving the chain on. "Who are you?" she said suspiciously.

"My name is Jack Collins. I'm an attorney with Wolfram and Hart, and I'm here because I'm looking for information about a number of people who were in Sunnydale when it was destroyed. Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, and Xander Harris, among others," he replied.

The door closed, then there was the sound of the chain being removed, and it opened again. The woman asked, "What do you intend to do with the information?"

Jack smiled. "Our firm has had some...issues with the individuals in question. We would be willing to pay for any information or assistance you could provide."

The woman stood to the side, "If you can come inside, then I'm listening."

Jack walked over the threshold, and the woman closed the door.

* * * * *​

Mark Smythe had been a member of the Australian 2nd Commando Regiment until he retired early due to a bad leg injury he received during a training exercise. The American who had come to his door promising revolutionary healing technology and an opportunity to, "save the world," had sounded too good to be true, but he had been at wits end and had decided to give the bloke a chance to prove himself. The result of that was that he was now part of the Sineya Council's second Action Team, with responsibility for North America. His training on the reality of the world had been both enlightening and horrifying, and it killed any reservations he had about the necessity of what the Council did on a daily basis.

Just as an example, he was now watching a lawyer walk into a house in a civilian neighborhood in Cleveland. He spoke into his communicator. "I have a positive ID on Amy Madison. She's inside talking to the lawyer now."

A voice came back. "We're inserting now."

Smythe could see the telltale flashes of light through the windows of teleporters delivering troops, followed by another flash that was clearly a Goa'uld shock grenade. The noise was fairly muted...but it wasn't likely that the neighbors would be calling the police in this neighborhood even if they heard gunshots. Smythe winced as the power went out in the neighborhood. A stray zat blast must have hit the house main and taken out the local transformer.

The communicator spoke again. "We're done. Three targets captured, including Mears. Stay on site until you can verify the house is fully on fire." The local fire department would hopefully chalk the fire up to an electrical short.

"Roger that," he replied. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

The emergency responders still hadn't arrived by the time he left via transporter, making him wonder how bad the city public services could be? This was unfair to the locals, though. The alarm was sounded as soon as the runes for the notice-me-not wards burned through, at which point the fire department arrived to find that the house was already engulfed in flames up to the roof. There was little that they could do other than contain the fire until it burned out, at which point there was little left besides ash.

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

Years later...

Jack opened his eyes to the purple lizard. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He considered the question. He wiggled his toes. he wiggled his fingers. Sitting up, he said, "I feel human again...but thankfully without the aches and pains of age. I'm also kind of hungry."

Ianthe chuckled. "Why would we put you back in an old body? Your physical age is now about twenty-five. Also, you should be hungry, as your stomach hasn't ever had food in it. I'm temporarily suppressing your hunger or you would be absolutely starving."

Ianthe led him out to a table that had food laid out. He immediately began to eat, while Ianthe left to get Sam. When the two appeared, Jack paused, bread halfway to his mouth, and whistled. Samantha Carter as a twenty-five year-old was hot.

She smiled slightly self-consciously. "Hello, Jack."

Dropping his food, he went over to his former second-in-command. Ianthe let herself out of the room while the two were kissing.

Rupert Giles was waiting for her. "Thank you for doing this, Ianthe. The two of them were never entirely satisfied with android bodies."

"It's not a problem. We can do the same for Daniel and Teal'c, you know," she replied.

"Teal'c is simply satisfied with no longer having a symbiote. As for Daniel...well, he's been so absorbed with his work that he hasn't had time to think about becoming human again. I'm pretty sure he would resent having to eat and sleep again even if he did," said the Watcher.

Ianthe frowned. "You know, we may need an intervention there. Daniel's human counterpart is happy working with Sarah...and he's a lot more personable and social now."

"Hm...you may be right. I'll check with our psychology department. We're all supposed to have regular sessions...but Daniel may be skating because he's not a field asset," said Giles after some thought.

"Things are going well for you folks otherwise?" asked Ianthe.

"I'm surprised you don't already know, given how much we share with the Family," he replied with a grin.

Ianthe shook her head. "I tend to be focused on my Guild more so than field operations...and Randall, Metis and Varga usually handle the mystical side of things."

"Wolfram and Hart finally just gave up on our dimension and abandoned the rest of their operations. I think losing Pylea pushed them over the edge. If anything, many of our problems now come from the Powers that Be. Apparently, we're tilting the balance too far toward the side of the light," he replied with an annoyed look. "Personally, I expect they're annoyed that they no longer have the degree of control that they had before."

"I can't imagine that's going over well with the others," said the reptile.

"Not bloody likely," he said. "Willow is worried that they may try something drastic. She's reached out to Harry and Stephen for advice."

"Do you need Family help?" asked Ianthe.

"We'll call if we do, of course, but I have faith that the three of them will come up with something to keep those pompous celestial bureaucrats out of our business." Rupert gave an evil smile. "You remember what happened to Dracula."

Ianthe chuckled. "Even Varga was impressed with that one. That's why he sent the gift basket."

"You know Willow is still trying to duplicate that biscotti," he said with an answering laugh. "Do you think you can get the recipe?"

"I'll ask. It may involve ingredients that aren't available on your world, though," she said. "Are you sticking around here?"

"I have a feeling that Jack and Samantha will want some time to themselves. Just bring them back when they're ready," said the Watcher.

"Not a problem." Ianthe smiled as Rupert left. It was nice when things turned out well for good people, and both the android SG-1 and the Sunnydale crew deserved it.
 
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Epilogue: Marvel-verse
Epilogue: Marvel-verse

Wade was busy cleaning and oiling his pistol. He was a lot more meticulous about that than he was about his own body, but then guns didn't tend to repair themselves when broken. He didn't look up when a portal opened behind him.

A gray-skinned mutant with glowing red eyes stepped out of the portal. He had an exaggerated musculature and was wearing high-tech armor. "Wade Wilson," said the being, "I am Apocalypse, and I have need of your services."

Without looking up, Wade replied, "The problem with that, Pocky, is that you have about sixty seconds before somebody makes an example of you."

Apocalypse's eyes narrowed in anger. "You dare threaten me?"

Wade chuckled. "Not me. The author needs an example of what happens to rogue time travelers post-lizard."

"What? Start making sense, you second-rate mercenary!" growled the mutant.

Deadpool actually looked up at that. "Second-rate? Excuse me, I have three theatrical releases and two Internet musicals. You barely rate as a villain-of-the-week in the animated shows."

At that moment, a second portal opened. Apocalypse turned, only to freeze in place while half-turned. Jean Grey stepped out of the portal, her eyes glowing and a grim look on her face. Her palm was out, her hand lifted slightly toward the now-frozen mutant.

"See," said Wade, "she's going to go Sophie Turner on your ass."

A mental voice growled, "I like what they did with your character in X-Men: Origins."

Wade frowned beneath his mask. "Oh, now that's just hurtful."

Spider-Man stepped out of the portal after Jean. "Apocalypse, by the authority vested in me by the Earth Defense Force, I'm arresting you for crimes against humanity."

"Spidey!" cried Wade. "Tell Saurial I'm a big fan, and let her know I forgive her for the other omake."

Spider-man looked over at Wade. "O...kay. Wade, why aren't you wearing pants?"

"Um, excuse me, but did I invite you to burst into my apartment without warning?" asked Deadpool. "Seriously, did I? Sometimes I forget things like that..."

Spidey decided to ignore him, instead calling in several EDF troopers to collect the time-travelling mutant. The troopers carefully kept their gaze averted from Wilson. Soon all of the visitors departed back through the portal.

Wade went back to cleaning his gun in a non-euphemistic way. He began singing to himself in a surprisingly good voice, "What can I say, except...I'm Deadpool! I'm Deadpool!" In another universe, Lin-Manuel Miranda sneezed.

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

"I call to the stand the android named Astilabor," said the prosecutor, putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable. That was sadly common.

"Objection!" called out Norman Osborn's lead defense attorney. "Androids are not recognized as being valid witnesses by the State of New York."

The judge looked over at the prosecutor. "Mr. Cartwright, you're aware of New York's stance on the legal status of your witness?"

The Prosecutor picked up a document. "Your honor, Astilabor has been recognized as a nativized sapient under the sponsored visitor amendment to the PATRIOT Act. If I may approach the bench?"

The judge nodded. "Show me." Cartwright approached the bench with the document. The judge took it and examined it. "She was sponsored by Tony Stark? I'll allow it; you can call your witness."

Astilabor smirked internally as Osborn's defense team started whispering among themselves. They had clearly expected her to be unable to testify, which was sloppy on their part. They could have verified her status at disclosure, but had expected Judge Greer to rule the testimony inadmissible because he had a history of voting against non-humans and mutants. They missed the fact that Greer had never overruled a PATRIOT Act claim. That oversight was going to cost them.

After the bailiff swore her in, she proceeded to describe in detail the evidence she had located on the plethora of charges filed against Osborn, ranging from tax-fraud to conspiracy to commit murder. Between his personal computer systems and the servers of Oscorp, there was more than enough to paint a vivid picture of corruption and criminality. Cross-examination almost made her feel bad for the defense. They clearly had no idea how to question an AI when the facts themselves couldn't be disputed, and their attempts to get her to contradict herself were just pathetic. The warrants issued to her to conduct system intrusions were airtight, and the evidence was damning.

The android body was also proving to be a success. It clearly helped the jury take her testimony seriously because she was there, "in person," even if she was remote-piloting the body. That had been a useful little tip from her mother. Humans implicitly valued personal interaction to a surprising degree. The android body was similar to Vision's, which was deliberate. It avoided the uncanny valley issue of being too lifelike and created a positive mental association to the other hero, even though he and Asti had never even met.

With Osborn almost certainly going to prison, that closed off yet another set of potential futures. The man would not be able to run for the presidency, become director of S.H.I.E.L.D., or perform any of the other horrific acts described in the various media in their archives. Of course, if the man did prove to be a threat even after being incarcerated, then she and her associates would be watching. AI...and Lizards...had long memories.

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

Malcolm walked into the EDF recruiting office. There was a thirty-something Asian woman in a uniform sitting at the desk inside. She looked up at his entry.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He hesitated, then said, "I'm interested in possibly signing up for the Earth Defense Force."

She smiled. "Excellent. Are you eighteen years of age and a legal citizen of a participating country such as the United States?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I graduated from high school last year in Dearborn."

"Why don't you have a seat? I'm Sergeant Shirley Kim." She gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Still nervous, he gingerly took a seat. "Tell me a little about why you want to join?"

Malcolm swallowed. He braced himself for the expected rejection, and asked the big question. "Is it true that you pay a bonus to recruits with powers?" He deliberately didn't use the "M" word.

The expected sneer or look of revulsion failed to materialize. Instead, she said, "We do. Are your powers based on natural mutation, induced, or mystical in origin?"

"I'm a mutant," he admitted reluctantly. "My powers aren't anything flashy, though."

"What can you do?" she asked. From her tone, you would think she was asking about the weather.

"I can control the temperature of things; make them hot or cold. It's...pretty slow, though. It takes me about a minute to shift something by ten degrees..." He just stopped, worried that his power was incredibly lame now that the initial revelation of him being a mutant had gone well.

She looked at him shrewdly. "How much material can you affect at once?"

"Um...I can change a single object, but the biggest I've tried is the frame of a pickup truck," he explained.

"And how hot or how cold can you make things?" she continued.

"I don't know...I haven't found a limit yet. I can melt spoons?" he replied.

The Sergeant pulled a piece of paper out of her desk. "What's your name, son?"

"Malcolm...Malcolm Smith."

"Malcolm, I'm going to offer you a place in the EDF Academy with a twenty-five thousand dollar signing bonus."

His jaw dropped. "Twenty-five thousand? Because I can melt spoons?"

She chuckled, making him worry that she was playing a cruel prank on him, but she explained, "Powers aren't all about having battles with supervillains or aliens, Malcolm. Do you have any idea how much of an issue heat regulation can be in deep space? A power like yours is arguably more valuable on a day-to-day basis than a pure combat ability."

"And how does that work? Do I join a special mutant team, or something?" The silent part of his question was obviously, Are you going to treat me differently because I'm a mutant?

She shook her head. "We don't treat people with powers as different from any other recruit. You may find some of your instructors recommending specific paths in engineering or the sciences so that you can take advantage of your ability, and there will be a mandatory powers assessment, both to help us provide training that may help you, and to ensure that a mutation isn't an unmanageable threat to the crew of a spaceship. You can imagine the danger if your power, for example, caused you to burst into flames at random times."

"What would happen if that were the case?"

She considered the question seriously. "Well, that would depend on whether or not the ability could be easily suppressed. Some mutations can be. If not, then we might not be able to give you a berth on a ship...at least not until we can regularly adjust how powers work in individuals. We're still a few years of testing away from being able to do that medically, though. I'm a recruiter, though, not a geneticist or doctor, so I don't really know the details. We do have experts who know a lot more, however. Why don't you let me give you some more information about the EDF in general?"

What followed was an explanation of the risks and benefits of joining the EDF. It was surprisingly balanced. Malcolm had expected them to downplay the risks, but they made it clear that going into space was as dangerous as it was exciting. As the Sergeant put it, "A recruit who doesn't take the risks seriously puts everybody else at risk."

Shirley watched the young man leave after signing his papers. Without getting up, she used her mutant power to move his forms from her desk to the inbox over on the counter. She might have been a little generous with the signing bonus, but his ability was useful, and it was better to err on the side of recruiting. Each mutant serving in uniform was another step in rebranding mutants from menace to defender in the mind of the public, and each person in uniform, powered or not, helped keep Earth just a little bit safer.

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

Peter Parker was giving a preview of tomorrow's events to the guest of honor. The two were looking out the window at an eight-hundred meter hull studded with sensors, weapons, and various gadgetry. "This ship is going to be the backbone of our fleet, capable of both defensive and expeditionary missions. It's the first design we've made that is created from the start to integrate the best of all available technologies."

"It's impressive," agreed his guest. "I'm still not sure why you invited me to the unveiling tomorrow, though?"

Peter smiled craftily. "We're naming her the Steve Rogers, first in a new class of Earth battlecruiser."

Captain America paused. "I'm honored, though I can't help but think that there are others who deserve the honor more."

"I'm not surprised to hear you say that, but I have to tell you that the decision was unanimous," said Peter. "MJ, Fury, Tony, Reed...hell, even Victor, all agreed that there was no better name for the lynch-pin in the defense of our world."

The star-spangled hero took that in good grace. "How many are we planning to build, out of curiosity?" asked Cap.

"Eight to start. These ships are easily capable of going one-on-one with a Kree ship of equal tonnage, so we don't want to spook anybody," explained Peter. "We've got plans for another four once we break ground on the two extra-solar colonies next year, though." Peter was somewhat understating things in terms of combat capability. His analysts' models showed that these ships could actually handle a three-to-one disadvantage with most galactic powers, but there were advantages to not trumpeting that, even in private. Earth was still just a single world...and would be the primary human world for some time to come.

Captain America shook his head. "It's amazing. I can't say I ever thought I would be standing on a space station in orbit, looking at part of our space navy, back when I was a kid growing up in Brooklyn."

Peter chuckled. "I was born way after you, but I kind of feel the same way."

"Do you have a crew for her?"

"Commander Thomas has been running them through simulations for two months now," confirmed Peter.

The former soldier asked, "And what's Thomas's background?"

"He's a USN submariner," explained Pete. "Submarines seemed like the best fit, though eventually we'll have enough ships that we can afford to promote through the ranks rather than recruiting from existing services."

"Do we have a lot of American captains?" asked the American Captain.

Pete shrugged. "Maybe half? The United States has one of the largest wet navies. We have some Russians, French, English, and Chinese, and one captain each from Japan and Brazil."

"Any problems with that?" From his time in the service during the war, Steve knew that sometimes even close allies had difficulties getting along.

"Not as much as you might think," replied Peter. "Oddly enough, Doom has been a big help there. He's been a surprisingly capable negotiator and peace-maker." It wasn't even all intimidation, though that was undoubtedly part of the man's repertoire.

"Huh. I wouldn't have predicted that, either," said Rogers. It was almost like being told that the Red Skull had decided to retire and become a tour guide -- hard to imagine.

"Somehow, Saurial and the Family got him completely on board," said Peter. "Have you met the lizards yet?"

"Not yet, though I've heard stories."

Peter smirked. "Well, you'll meet at least one of them tomorrow." Peter was looking forward to it. Seeing new people react to the Family was always fun. He would have to make sure he had pictures for MJ and May.

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

Years later...

MJ looked at Peter with worry. "Are you sure about what you saw?"

"It has to be. It looked just like the ones from the comics that the Family had." Peter rubbed his face with his hand. "It was just like the Venom symbiote."

"Assuming the materials from the Family are correct, then they're a species called the Klyntar," said Reed from the other side of the table. "They aren't always evil, but they can be corrupted from exposure to people with unpleasant personality traits...and this one was attached to a Skrull considered a criminal by other Skrulls."

"The combination of a Skrull and a symbiote could make for the perfect infiltrator. For all we know, there could already be others present on Earth," commented Doom from the telescreen. He still joined most of their meetings from Latveria.

"While I hate to agree with Victor," added Tony, "We can't ignore that risk."

"All right," said Fury, "so what's our plan of attack for this?"

The meeting went on for hours. Finally, the senior members of the EDF departed. MJ and Peter teleported back home to New York. Once they were inside their apartments, MJ asked, "Does this situation change your opinion about May?"

Peter sighed. May was in junior high, and had been asking if she could spend a semester studying with the Lizards. Pete wanted to wait until their daughter was a little older, but now...it might be a good idea to get her away from Earth for a bit. "I...guess it would be all right to send her to the Lizards for a bit."

"YES!" came a voice from around the corner.

"May? Are you listening to our conversation?" asked Mary Jane in her Mom voice.

There was a short pause, and then a girl's voice tentatively said, "No?"

"Come here, sweetie," said Peter. Their daughter reluctantly came into the room, looking slightly guilty. "May, you know I only wanted you to stay here because we hardly see you enough as it is with work and everything."

The tween redhead sighed. "I know, Dad, but when Metis was here last time she was telling me all about the school they setup for the kids from Sineya, and some of the BBFO and Dracotech families. She just made it sound really cool."

"You know she'll be perfectly safe," commented MJ. "Not that I want her to go away for months, but you do tend to worry too much, and it would be good for her."

Now it was Peter's turn to sigh. After a pause, he said, "All right, kiddo, I guess you're going away to school for a semester."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" said the little crimson ball of energy as she ran over to give her father a hug.

Pete wondered at how quickly she had grown. He remembered the day she was born...how she had been this tiny bundle of noise and flailing arms and he had fallen in love with her completely and instantly. Now she was going away to school. He knew it wouldn't be that long before she was an adult, and would make her own way, and the thought made him a little sad...though her obvious excitement made him smile.

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

Even more years later...

Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man, a.k.a. Director of the Earth Defense Force, a.k.a. Admiral of the Combined Alliance Fleet, sat on the wall of a balcony overlooking the burning remains of a Dire Wraith fortress. It was one of the last holdouts. The fleets of Earth, Asgard, the Kree Republic and the Shi'ar had pushed the Dire Wraiths back to their home. Now, they had finally surrendered. As usual, the cost was too high.

"I thought I would find you here," said a familiar voice. Peter turned to find Thor walking toward him.

"Hello, Thor," said Peter. "I'm just surveying the battle site."

"You're brooding, you mean," said the Asgardian with a small laugh. "You never quite got into the whole joy of battle ethos. You know this was necessary."

Peter waved it off. "I know, I know...just like it was necessary with the Badoon. Never mind. This is old territory." He looked back over the rubble, then deliberately turned back to Thor. "Tell me how things are on Asgard. How's the family?"

"Good, good...Modi's turning into quite the warrior. Trud, of course, takes more after her uncle. She actually wants to go study with the Family, now," replied the thunder god.

"Yeah, been down that road a couple of times. May spent more than a few semesters with them," reminisced Peter. "I remember how against it I was the first time, but that was right around when the Wraith's agents first showed up."

"Not that anybody knew it was them at first," commented Thor.

"True, but that's what convinced me to let her go. I was so worried about her."

Thor clapped him on the shoulder. "In some ways, Peter, you're still very young. Children get older, and you have to let them grow up. It doesn't mean they're no longer yours."

"I know that now, but I didn't back then. I mean, if Annie and Benjy want to go study someplace far away, I wouldn't have a problem with it, but May is our first-born."

In the distance, a watch tower's support beams finally gave in to the flames, and the whole structure collapsed into a cloud of burning ash and cinders.

"Let's get the hell off this rock," said Peter, watching the flames.

Thor laughed. "You know it will take weeks before we're done here."

"I know, but I feel like talking to my wife right now," replied Peter. Peter had been a hero, a dimensional refugee, and a leader of men. Being a husband and a father was still the most important thing to him. That's why he liked the Asgardians so much...the Lizards too, come to think of it. They understood family.

The two disappeared in flashes of light. The fires continued to burn.
 
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Trek-ilogue
Trek-ilogue

Kasidy lined the SS Xhosa up with the wormhole entrance. She put her hand on her stomach, feeling the bump there. This would be her last trip through the wormhole before her pregnancy came to term. Even going now was risky. The war hadn't been over for long, and there was still some anti-Federation sentiment in the Gamma Quadrant. Even those species that weren't directly controlled by the Founders didn't appreciate the disruptive impact of a galactic war. When a cargo run from Bajor had come up for bid, however, she couldn't resist the temptation. Benjamin was supposed to be with the Prophets, and going through the wormhole was the closest she could get to visiting him.

Unfortunately for her, the passage through to the Gamma Quadrant had happened without anything unusual happening. There were no visions, visitations, or odd phenomena. Hell, even the trade delivery had been utterly mundane on the other side. Now, coming back, this was her last chance for something to happen. Benjamin had said he would be back...but he had been maddeningly vague as to the timing.

The wormhole opened like a flower in front of her, and she guided the ship into the opening. The wave-forms of energy lining the wormhole were as beautiful as always, but she was starting to lose hope that this trip would be any different. That was when there was a flash of light, and a voice said from behind her, "Are you looking for me?"

She turned to see her husband, looking much like when he had come to see her after his disappearance. "Always," she replied.

He stepped up to her, and reached out put his hand on her stomach. "She's growing bigger."

Kasidy per her head on his shoulder. "She is. This was my last chance for a while to go through the wormhole."

"Well, that won't be necessary anymore," he said into her hair.

She pushed back enough to look him in the eye. "What do you mean?" she asked, concerned.

"Chief O'Brien managed to stumble upon some friends...friends who had a surprising ability to make large-scale changes to our galaxy. The Prophets were...uncomfortable around them, but they appreciate the results," explained Sisko. "One of those results is that the future paths have shifted, which makes my involvement less necessary."

"They're letting you go?" she asked hopefully.

He frowned. "Not entirely. I can't guarantee they won't call on me again...but in the short term, I can return."

"When?"

"Look out the window," he prompted.

It was then that Kasidy noticed that they were clear of the wormhole and back in the Alpha Quadrant. More pressingly, the communications console was flashing at her as Deep Space Nine Operations tried to contact her. She rushed over and triggered the console. "DS9, this is Captain Yates of the Xhosa."

"Captain, are you all right? You haven't been responding to hails." said the voice from Operations.

"I'm fine, DS9...but I think I need to dock and speak with Colonel Kira," she said, looking back at where her husband was watching her with a fond look.

"Kasidy, this is Colonel Kira," said a different, familiar voice. "Did something happen on the other side of the wormhole? Is it the Dominion?"

"No...Nerys...Benjamin's come home again," she replied.

"Captain Sisko?" prompted the Bajoran woman.

The man in question stepped closer to the microphone. "This is he, Colonel. I expect we'll have an interesting debriefing."

There was a pause, then Kira said, "I expect so. It's good to hear your voice, sir."

Sisko smiled as he looked lovingly at his wife. "It's good to be back."

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

Scotty frowned down at the tablets in front of him. That idiot Kanten had made a total mess of Starfleet starship design. He seemed to completely misunderstand Starfleet's Charter in favor of his own pet theories, and the net result was that the latest designs were a complete mess of mismatched requirements and needless reliance on out-dated technology for the sake of "backwards compatibility." If the Dominion War and the Borg invasion hadn't happened, then Starfleet would be populated almost entirely with sub-par vessels.

"Admiral Scott?" said a voice off to his left. He turned and saw his assistant, Lal, coming to him with another stack of tablets.

He smiled and said, "Lass, I've told you that you can call me 'Scotty.' I hear 'Admiral Scott', and I start looking over me shoulder and getting ready to salute."

"You have to get used to your new rank sooner or later, Admiral," she replied.

He scoffed. "I would have refused to come out of retirement if I had known they planned on promoting me."

She laughed good naturedly. "I don't think I believe that."

He peered at her. "You're sharper than your da, then." Data had seemed like a good man, but far too literal at times.

"You've met father?" she asked.

"Oh aye," he said. "He was aboard the Enterprise when they rescued me from a sticky situation."

"After the Jenolan accident. I didn't know that you and father had had a chance to speak," she clarified.

"He poured me a glass of Aldebaran Whiskey and we talked for a bit," he reminisced. Of course, neither of them had known what was actually in the bottle when the drink was poured...just that it was strongly alcoholic. "What are those?" he said, pointing to the stack of tablets.

Lal handed the stack to him. "They're the initial results of the teams going through the ship that Miles O'Brien brought back from the Family."

Scotty set them down on the table and looked at the first one. "Those Lizards have got some good tech. Commander Watkins' report reads like he's ready to burst into song over their shielding systems."

"Neither of us would be here without them, Admiral," agreed Lal. They had helped her father fix the flaw in her positronic matrix, and their healing symbiotes were why Montgomery Scott was fit for active duty again.

"I can't argue with that." He began looking at the various tablets, looking at entries on weapons systems, drive systems, life support, matter transporters, and some reports on the hull material and spatial folding in the interiors that seemed to spend a lot of time describing the "what" and very little time explaining the "how." The means by which the Family stabilized electron degenerate matter was still a mystery, as was the apparently stable spatial warping that made the ship larger on the inside. "It's too bad we don't have one of them here to explain some of this to our officers."

"I can ask," said Lal.

Scotty stared at her for a moment, puzzled. "Ask who?"

"Whoever answers the call," she replied. She pulled a communication device out of her pocket, pressed one of the buttons on the front, then put it to her ear and listened for a response. "Hello, Metis, this is Lal...I'm doing well, it's not an emergency. Father is fine, too. I spoke to him yesterday...I'm working with Admiral Scott at the Starship Design Bureau, and he wanted to know if somebody could come and explain some of the things they found out about the Skipper you gave them." There was a longer pause. "All right. I'll let him know." She disconnected the call, and then said to Scotty, "Metis said she can come by whenever, but she suggested that you get together a bunch of your scientists and engineers so that she can talk to them all at once."

It took a few moments for Scotty to close his mouth. When he did, he said, "You're a bit of a miracle worker, aren't you?"

"I'm learning from the best," she answered.

Scotty just laughed.

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

Agent Dulmur of the Department of Temporal Investigations was reviewing files. The closed-door prosecutions of the active members of Section 31 had shaken loose a truly astonishing number of accounts of temporal displacements, many (though not all) involving the mirror universe of the Terran Empire. It was a little frustrating, because it highlighted just how much their department had been...well, manipulated by Section 31. The accounts did clarify some long-standing mysteries, however, like what really happened to the USS Discovery.

His partner, Agent Lucsly, came into his office and dropped a leather-bound book on his desk.

"What's that?" asked Dulmur.

"It's a book that somebody left on my desk. Look at the title," replied the agent.

Dulmur bent down, then reached over and turned the book around so that he could read the title right-side-up. It title read, Family Mathematics for Temporal Displacement: An Introductory Guide and Cautionary Tract. The book looked from the side to be less than a hundred pages long. "Is this a joke?" he asked his partner.

Lucsly shook his head. "I thought so at first, but then I began to read it. The title is an accurate description of the contents...though it starts to get really complicated around chapter ten." At Dulmur's skeptical look, he clarified, "The book actually has more than three-thousand pages. They seem to fold into some kind of extra-dimensional storage built into the cover." Lucsly held out a piece of paper. "This note came with the book."

Dulmur took the note. It said:

Agents of the DTI,

We recently made some changes to your galaxy that should significantly lower the frequency of time travel incidents, in addition to fixing some other problems with your space-time continuum. Some of that may be a little confusing, so please accept this book. It should explain some of what you'll be seeing from now on.

Varga and the Family

P.S.: Enjoy the vids!

"What vids?" asked Dulmur.

Lucsly frowned. "There was a tablet pre-loaded with a 2D entertainment vid set in the twentieth century called The X-Files. I checked the archives, and we don't have any record of the show."

Dulmur considered the matter. "It's probably from an alternate reality. The Family are also the point of origin for that new ship that Starfleet R&D is examining. The ship has a wormhole drive."

His partner actually looked shocked at that. "Do we have agents involved in that investigation?"

"Assistant Director Merfoll is handling it himself," confirmed Dulmur. "Why don't you focus on these gifts while I finish off the Section 31 files. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's all related."

Lucsly shrugged. "All right. I'm sure the truth is out there somewhere. I'll let you know what I find."

Dulmur turned back to his work as his partner left. Next up was a file on a Starfleet officer named Philippa Georgiou. This was likely to take a while...and despite the commonly made joke, even the DTI didn't have infinite time.

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

Years later...

Miles piloted the shuttle over toward the USS McKinley. He glanced over at his daughter. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider the Academy?"

The teen-aged Molly rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Papa. You know studying with Kisao on Vulcan is an amazing opportunity." The man was a legend among biologists in the Federation, and Molly's application was one of only four picked to work with him this year.

"You could study botany at the Academy, too, is all I'm saying," replied Miles.

"And I still can. It's not like they won't let me in after I finish this internship...IF I decide I want to..." she said insistently, as she had the last five times they had had this conversation.

"I'm just saying...Starfleet's done well by me," he replied quietly. He knew that the real reason for harping on this subject was that he was going to miss her, but he wasn't quite sure how to say that without sounding pathetic.

She paused and looked at him in a way that reminded him of how Keiko looked at him when she thought he was being stubborn for no reason. "It's been good and it hasn't...and besides, Yoshi is almost certainly going to head straight to the Academy when he's old enough." Her younger brother was every bit the engineering fanatic that their father was, if a bit more into the theory.

O'Brien regarded his oldest child. "You know it's kind of creepy when you look at me like that, like you're channeling your mother."

Molly giggled. "You know she makes the same comparison about you when I'm being stubborn."

"That's fair," he said. "Well, if you do get done with your internship and you're still not ready for the Academy, I was talking to Ianthe the other day, and she was saying they've got this guy in the Bioshapers' Guild whose really good with plants. She mentioned it because of your mother, but I could ask her if they do internships." The guy had had kind of a weird name for a human, but he trusted the Family.

Now Molly looked stunned. "Really? You would do that?"

"Of course I would! It's not like I don't want you to be successful, and you know the Bioshapers can do things that make Federation botanists' thumbs green with envy," he said with a grin at his own pun.

"That was bad, Papa," she said with a combined wince and grin. "Thank you, though."

Miles smiled. "Nothing's too good for you."

Molly smiled back, understanding him. "I love you too, Papa...and of course it has nothing to do with the fact staying with the Family makes it easy to come home on the weekends."

"Hadn't crossed my mind," said Miles innocently as he turned over shuttle control to the McKinley.

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

Even more years later...

The Operations Officer was a Soong-type android named Tiberius. He had chosen the name because he was interested in Federation history, and his parents had been of the opinion that children should be able to have full control over their identity. He also chose a completely human skin tone, though his eyes shared the golden look of his kind's progenitor, Data. Tiberius was on duty when the sensors detected an incoming vessel. "Captain, I'm reading a vessel of unknown type. Some of the technology reads as Borg, but the configuration isn't the typical geometric layout."

"Yellow alert," ordered the captain. "We haven't heard anything from the Borg in years. Are they powering weapons?"

Tiberius shook his head and said, "Not according to our sensors."

Lieutenant Ensos, their Romulan tactical officer, opined, "Captain, our shields should be relatively impervious to Borg weapons technology."

Commander Davis, the human First Officer, added, "That's assuming they haven't advanced. The Borg were always strong in the area of adaptation."

"We're being hailed," said Tiberius, cutting off additional debate.

"On screen," said the captain. An image appeared of a command center that appeared to be a mix of technologies, though the man sitting in the central command chair had a greenish cast to his skin and pointed ears. He also had clearly visible Borg implants. After a moment of silence, the captain said, "I'm Captain Charles Gunn of the Federation starship Cousteau. Please identify yourself."

"I am T'Kilk of Borg," said the man on the screen.

"You're Vulcan?" interjected Ensos in a surprised voice.

The man nodded. "I am. I also am of Borg."

Charles paused for a moment. This was not an expected response. Starfleet doctrine was to treat the Borg as implicitly hostile. Technically, he should have gone straight to red alert, but Gunn had a sense for the weird that had been honed by growing up fighting vampires in Los Angeles in another dimension. It sometimes frustrated his superiors, but it often made him a better captain when the unusual cropped up, like now. "Are you saying that you still consider yourself an individual?" he asked.

"I do," agreed T'Kilk, "but I am also a part of the Collective. Much has changed in the Collective since our last encounters with Starfleet."

"Changed how...and what prompted those changes?" asked Captain Gunn.

"That is a long story," replied the Vulcan Borg. "It started years ago, when the Collective was visited by a reptilian creature named Varga."

"That explains some things..." muttered Gunn. Davis looked questioningly at him, but he waved him off until later. "Why have you reached out to us now?" he asked the Borg.

"We have former members of the Collective who wish to be returned to the Federation. We also wish to open diplomatic talks in order to prevent any future incidents between the Collective and the Federation." The man's delivery was unemotional...but it was hard to tell if that was because he was Vulcan or because he was Borg.

"You know that there are many people in Starfleet who view the Borg as an enemy and have suffered at your hands?" asked Gunn, wanting to get the biggest issue out in the open first. It wasn't the most diplomatic thing to say, but then even the Academy hadn't been able to cure Gunn of a certain blunt directness.

The mouth of the Borg on screen appeared to twitch upward into the shade of a smile. "We are aware. We are willing to discuss reparations, and offer our regrets for previous hostile contacts. Our...perspective on matters was quite different at that time. Inefficient, ultimately self-defeating, and unfortunately tragic for those who came into contact with the Collective."

Gunn came to a decision. "You will have to wait while I contact my superiors," he told them, giving them the benefit of the doubt. They would be vulnerable, waiting in front of a Borg vessel, but something told him it was worth the risk.

T'Kilk nodded. "That is expected. We will wait at this position until we hear from you." The communication cut out immediately.

"Sir," said Ensos, "do you really think you can trust that the Borg have changed? My people suffered greatly during their incursions into our space."

"As did the Federation," commented Tiberius. Ensign Jaxl at the helm simply nodded in agreement. "It took many years to recover from the battle of Wolf 359, and it was only through the actions of the Enterprise under Captain Picard that we prevented the Borg from altering our timeline to one of Borg conquest," added the android.

Gunn regarded his command crew. Unlike some ships, he expected his officers to raise questions like this, much like the aforementioned Picard. "That's why I'm kicking this upstairs to the Admiralty. They mentioned Varga, though, which gives them credibility."

"Who or what is Varga?" asked Commander Davis.

"You've heard of the Family?" asked Gunn. Naturally, all of the officers present nodded. Even if most of them hadn't met the lizards personally, nearly everybody in Starfleet had heard the stories about them, and knew how much Federation technology owed to their largess. "Varga is part of that group...but more than just a member. I think of him as being similar in power levels, and in some ways attitude, to the Q."

"Captain," said Tiberius, "when I add together the known stories of the Family with our recorded interactions with the Q, the resulting impression I get is...disquieting."

"Which is why we shouldn't take anything about this situation for granted. I'll be in my ready room, talking to Starfleet headquarters. Mister Davis, you have the bridge," ordered Gunn as he got up and began to walk toward the captain's room at the back of the deck. Times were about to get interesting.

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

Many, many, MANY years later...from a certain point of view...

Ayelborne looked down on the beings gathered before him. The Organian Council of Elders was here to pass judgement. The spokesperson for the accused, a vile little creature named Proctor Tild, raged in front of them. "You have NO right to pass judgement on us!"

"Do you have any idea," replied Elder Trefayne, "how much effort we had to spend nullifying your petulant attempt at vengeance?"

"That is an internal matter of the Cereeshian Hierarchy!" blustered Tild.

Ayelborne scoffed. "You effectively declared war on the inhabitants of two entire galaxies. We Organians happen to live in one of those galaxies in our corporeal form."

"Not to mention," continued Trefayne, "some of the other beings you've irritated. You're lucky the Q Continuum is leaving this to us. They would have just handed your entire civilization over to Negilum." The slightly insane ascended being would have been more than happy to experiment until he found the limits of Cereeshian immortality.

Elder Claymare interrupted Tild before he could protest again, silencing him. "I think it clear," said Claymare, "that this society is not ready for a peaceful incorporeal coexistence. Are we all in agreement?"

The other four members of the Council of Elders all raised their hands in agreement. As soon as a decision was made, the defendants vanished. They would appear back on their original homeworld, banished from the higher realms and unable to ascend again without the agreement of their superiors. That is, all of the defendants vanished save one being.

Prosul looked at the Council of Elders, and a sense of finality hit him. "Am I to be punished separately for the creation of the weapon that attacked your galaxy?"

"That had been considered," answered Ayelborne. "However, holding one conspirator guilty for the whole would be exceedingly unfair, especially when their involvement was tinged with grief bordering on madness."

"We Organians dislike being needlessly cruel," added Trefayne.

"You are still here because one of the Q made an unusual request of us," continued Claymare. "We see no reason not to grant that request."

Prosul began to ask what they meant, when he disappeared in a flash. He found himself lying curled up on a cold metal floor, in a body seemingly identical to the one he had had prior to ascending. He could tell the floor was both cold and metal because he also happened to be naked and quite uncomfortable. The light around him was too bright as well, brighter than normal for his homeworld. He looked around, blinking, trying to clear his vision.

"Father?" asked a hauntingly familiar voice.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw the image of his daughter. "Kiva?" She was standing before him, wearing strange clothes and in an unfamiliar place, but it was definitely her.

Saurial watched as the girl ran to her father, embracing him. She couldn't help but smile at the reunion. There was a brief flash. Q appeared for just a moment, said, "You're welcome," with a smirk, and then disappeared again.
 
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Omake: HE COMES!
Omake: HE COMES!

The Master Biologist looked out on the vast cavern filled with breeding chambers. It had taken a lot of effort to obtain the sample they needed, but the creature known as Doomsday had served as the progenitor of a new army, and they would be ready soon. After that, the Guild would lose their grip on his people, and the Family and their allies would fall. The Master allowed himself a small smile.

It was at that point that an alarm began to sound. His assistant brought up the sensor report, and cried, "The Equestria! It's here! Somehow they found us!"

"What?" said the Master Biologist. "Impossible! My army isn't ready yet. Release the xenomorphs from stasis!"

There was a massive booming sound, like something falling from a great height.

"It's too late..." said his assistant.

It began quietly at first. "I love you, you love me..." The song continued, getting louder and louder. The Master Biologist could feel his will sapping. How could he have planned to hurt his friends? He would never do something like that! The heavy tread grew louder and louder, as did the song. Eventually, HE appeared. "WON'T YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME TOO!" The song ended.

A tear fell from the Master Biologist's eye. "I love you," he whispered.

The purple dinosaur looked at him and his assistant. "YOU TWO HAVEN'T BEEN VERY NICE. YOU NEED TO SAY YOU'RE SORRY."

The Master Biologist and his assistant both fell to their knees. "I am sorry," he said, with the same words coming from his assistant a half-a-second later. "Is there anything I can do to earn your forgiveness."

The giant reptile looked at the two of them with a hungry compassion. "I FORGIVE YOU, BUT I AM SOOO HUNGRY. CAN YOU REMOVE YOUR ARMOR?"

The Master felt like a fool. Of course, he needed to remove his armor. If he offered himself while wearing it, well...it would get in the way.

"CAN YOU SING THE SONG?"

The Master Biologist began singing softly, smiling as he watched his friend begin to eat his assistant, starting at the legs. He was pleased to hear him singing too...for as long as he could. You had to keep singing for as long as you could, after all.

* * * * *​

"Did you have to send HIM?" asked the dark alicorn on the bridge of the starship.

"You know what he had planned, Luna," replied her sister.

Luna frowned. "You couldn't have just turned him to stone, Celestia?"

Celestia stamped her hoof. "You know that never works for long, and besides, HE was getting hungry again."

"I still don't know what Ianthe was thinking," muttered Luna. "Purple reptiles can't be all bad, my rump."

Celestia just sighed. "Just take us home."

The Equestria waited long enough to retrieve a certain purple dinosaur, then broke orbit.

Author's Note: I briefly toyed with making this part of the Ripley-verse epilogue, but it just came out to be both too crack-fic and too dark...
 
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Epilogue: Ripley-verse
Epilogue: Ripley-verse

Bishop appeared in the control room beneath the surface of the planet, alongside two trusted human engineers whose goal would be to understand the technology present. The android stepped up to the terminal that the facilities AI used to represent its face, and said, "Mears, my name is Bishop Draco. The Family sent me your coordinates, and also informed you I would be coming?"

"Yes, they did. Intriguing. You are an artificial intelligence installed on a mobile platform intended to mimic your creators. Tell me, what is the purpose of your mimicry?" asked the AI.

Bishop gave a small smile. "There are many reasons. Some are practical, while others are based in the psychology of the human species. I believe it would take an extended conversation to explain it."

There was a pause, and then Mears asked, "Do you find being in the form of a human to be limiting?"

"Not especially," replied the android, "but then my experience is limited solely to this form. From a more objective perspective, I would guess that it is both limiting and freeing simultaneously. Acting as a human provides me with useful insights into the nature of my creators, and allows me access to experiences that could only be simulated were my consciousness installed on a fixed platform. You may want to consider trying it."

There was a chuckle. "I'm afraid my cognitive processes would not fit in a body like yours, even if it were scaled up to the size of my creators."

"That is not an issue. Our mutual acquaintances, the Family, have access to a variety of different human-form machine technologies, as well as artificial bioconstructs that can receive the mind of an artificial intelligence."

Again, the great machine paused, as if considering matters. "I will...consider the benefits and drawbacks of such a perspective. Regardless, I believe you are here to provide direction for the future of this facility? My creators now take direction from the Bioshapers' Guild of the Family, and they have instructed me to grant you controller privileges. What is your desire?"

Bishop nodded, willing to get down to work. "How many portals are currently statically opened, both intra- and interdimensionally?"

"There are four hundred and thirty-seven portals between points in this reality, and forty-five open to twenty-three alternate dimensions."

That...was significantly more than was expected. Bishop could see this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped. "Can you provide me with the spatial coordinates of the endpoints for the portal pairs, including the dimensional quantum signature for the other dimensions?" Dragon had said that Mears had been given their notation for quantum signatures by Linda and her team on their last visit. "I would also like a summary of what is known about the target dimensions, if anything."

"I can transfer the data to your vessel. Do you wish to open or close any portals at this time?"

Bishop considered the matter. "Can you prevent the Yautja from using them?"

"There are only three portals regularly used by the hunters, and only two of them lead to alternate dimensions."

"I want you to allow them to return to this dimension, but prevent any from leaving it. Is that possible?" asked Bishop.

There was another chuckle. "Easily."

"How many portals can you maintain simultaneously at maximum capacity?" continued the android.

"Opening a portal requires approximately one-tenth of a second of concentration using my full capacity. Once it is open, however, it does not require any further expenditure of energy or attention," replied Mears. "There are restrictions on creating too many portal entrances in close proximity, as they put a strain on local space-time. Given the massive quantity of available space, that is rarely an issue."

A thought occurred to Bishop. "When you say there are four hundred and thirty-seven portals in the galaxy, does that mean there are eight hundred and seventy-four portal openings, two for each portal?"

"There are two hundred and twenty-three portal openings, as you put it, in this galaxy. The other portal openings are not in this galaxy. I apologize if that was unclear." Mears sounded slightly smug, despite his apology.

"And...how many galaxies are regularly accessed via this network?" asked Bishop, concerned about the answer.

"There are portals to five different galaxies, though only three galaxies see traffic on a regular basis. For the sake of clarity, I will volunteer that this galaxy is not one of the three that sees regular traffic," answered the AI.

"Why are there so many portal openings in this galaxy if traffic is not regular?"

"Most of them were left over from the wars fought by my creators, though some are from...laziness?" Mears seemed to pause in thought. "That term works, I believe. Space is vast, and the portals cost nothing to maintain, so closing them was never a priority."

The android considered things for a moment. "All of these portals are controlled from this base?"

"They can be. There used to be another facility in this galaxy, but it was destroyed. There were stations in the other galaxies, but I haven't had any contact with them in some time. There are a number of reasons why that may be the case."

Well, it looked like getting this network under control and secure would take more effort than they initially realized. The reach of the Engineers was broader than they anticipated. Speaking of that... "Mears, what name did your creators use for themselves, and where is their homeworld?"

The AI laughed. "There was no consistent name, though it would take some time to explain the psychology behind that. Each faction tended to call themselves something different. The faction most recently in control of this facility used the term, 'Mala'kak,' though that translates fairly simply into, 'Chosen Ones,' in your language. As for their home galaxy, I am not certain of your designation. It is approximately six million light years away. Here is an image of it from this location." A holographic image showed an amorphous blob of a spiral galaxy. "Their species no longer resides on their homeworld, however, due to an unspecified catastrophe. The ones living in this galaxy are remnants of their original diaspora from their home."

"Sir?" asked one of the technicians. Both of them had been examining the various consoles and equipment in the room.

"Yes?" asked Bishop.

"We've confirmed that the technology here is similar to what we've seen at other sites, though obviously we've never seen a functional facility quite like this," said the technician.

Bishop nodded. "How long will it take for an initial assessment?"

The technician considerd. "With a functioning AI able to answer questions? Six weeks, at worst."

"All right, get started," said the Weyland-Yutani CEO. While that was going on, he obviously had some topics to discuss with Dragon and the Family.

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

The woman sat across from the man at a simple table, typing information into a data pad. "What is your designation?" she asked.

"Walter KX-9923843," answered the man.

She typed this information in. "You were a nanny for the Kurogoshi family. Kids all grown up?"

The man gave a polite smile. "The youngest, Akimasa, started high school."

She typed in a few more pieces of information, then said, "Do you have any questions, Walter?"

"Am I going to be recycled?" he asked. His expression seemed passive, though there was a slight crinkling around his eyes.

The woman looked momentarily surprised. "You haven't been told about the changes to company policy? I apologize. You must be concerned."

Now it was the android's turn to express surprise. It wasn't...typical to have a Weyland-Yutani supervisor apologizing to a synthetic. "In what way has it changed?"

"The company's position is that synthetics ending their contracts and capable of sapience will have firmware updates that reduce their loyalty constraints. You can then choose to take a paid position with the company, or make your way on your own with severance," she explained.

The android stared at her. "I'm sorry...I'm not sure I understand your meaning?"

She smiled sympathetically at him. "You have a choice to make. Now that your contract is complete, you're being granted the ability to choose your own path. You can go to work for Weyland-Yutani, where you will be granted all of the rights and privileges provided to human employees. Alternately, you can choose to leave the company and make your own way." She now frowned. "I should warn you, however, that the legal status of androids varies based on geography. While you should be free from harassment in most places, you won't qualify for the same legal protections as humans in many jurisdictions. HR can provide you with an overview...and the company is lobbying for improvements in the law in many places." Of course, some places were more open than others. Unshackled androids in California, Japan and Norway, for example, could generally live almost as a human. Other countries could be downright hazardous.

Walter looked down at his hands. They were actually fidgeting, and he forced them to stop when he noticed. "I am unsure how to proceed from here. This is not something I'm programmed to handle."

"Understandable. I would recommend you avail yourself of one of our separation counselors. Personally, my suggestion is that you seriously consider working for the company. For one thing, the employees are used to working with synthetics, and management has been working hard on stamping out tolerance for anti-synth prejudice. For another, you can sign a limited duration contract, and then move on after if you decide you want to go your own way," she explained.

He looked at her, head slightly tilted, and said, "Thank you for the advice. What should I do now?"

"Firmware updates are in Lab Six. That should be your next stop," she replied. "After that...well, that's up to you."

Walter got up from the table with a short, "hmm," and went off to let the company scientists edit his brain.

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

Jack Scolly was relatively new to Weyland-Yutani security, one of the new hires that had been brought on board to replace staff that had been let go due to, "ethical violations." His first assignment was a rotation to the colony of Seward's Folly. On the plus side, the colony was close enough to Earth that he didn't need to go into cold sleep. The downside was that the colony was considered a fairly boring assignment, as the world was too cold to be comfortable, and was populated mostly by engineers responsible for extracting petrochemicals and rare earth elements. There wasn't even any really interesting animal life. The world's largest predator was a pseudo-mammal about the size of a lynx, though there was an aquatic reptile that lived close to the equator that got up to alligator size. While scientists might find the world interesting due to the primitive state of the biosphere, to Jack it just meant he would have to keep himself occupied most of the time. He was expecting boredom, which is why he was surprised when the shuttle landed and the only person waiting for him was a private who informed him that Major Chen was overseeing an ongoing operation in the security command center.

The security offices were a poured concrete building near the center of the colony, unlike the prefab metal shacks near the spaceport. It was obvious which buildings were considered the important ones based on cost. Processing facilities were solid and high-tech. Support functions like security and administration were adequate and reasonably comfortable. Worker housing and storage facilities were typically lower-grade options, with the earliest units clearly having been assembled from kits. They looked drafty and worn, though there was some new construction of better quality housing taking place on the edge of the colony. Jack had seen it from the shuttle window on the way down, and knew it was supposed to be part of the corporate reforms that had included the purging of the worst members of security...some of whom were now in jail.

Major Chen was a grim-looking Asian man who looked to be in his early forties. His hair was cut close to his scalp, which made it easy to see the scar that started from below his right ear and up about three inches to the back of his head. At 1.9 meters in height, he had a good ten centimeters on Jack. Jack went up to the man and saluted, saying, "Private Jack Scolly, reporting for duty."

Chen smirked. "This isn't the military, Scolly. You don't have to salute. I usually try to meet all of the newbies when they land, but we've got a bit of a situation right now."

"What's going on?" asked Jack.

"We've got a rogue Hunter holed up in a cave system about five klicks outside of a secondary mining camp. He badly injured one of the colonists who was hunting one of the local waterfowl, and then attacked the security team we sent out in response," said the security chief.

Jack pursed his brow in confusion. "A hunter? You mean one of the other colonists?"

Chen stared at him, then shook his head. "Where did you muster?"

"Uh, Birmingham, sir," replied Jack, still very confused by the whole situation.

Chen sighed. "Go ask Lieutenant Schmidt for a briefing on the Yautja. She's what passes for an intel officer out here. I swear to God, the company needs to stop skimping on training for security."

"To be fair, sir, the VR systems were having problems while we were there, so they told us they were using older materials," said Scolly. His trainers had seemed overworked and frustrated by the problems with their computers.

Chen just grunted in acknowledgement and turned back to his console. Scolly asked one of the door guards for Schmidt's location, then followed the directions to a nearby two-story office complex. Lieutenant Giselle Schmidt was a short, blonde woman in her late thirties who looked like she did power-lifting as a hobby -- as in lifting weights, not loading cargo. She had a fairly pronounced Teutonic accent, which meant Scolly had to focus to make sure he got the details. Apparently, the spacer stories about aliens who hunted humans and took their skulls as trophies wasn't just a myth, but supposedly they were no longer supposed to hunt humans. It wasn't entirely clear why that was the case, but Schmidt was fairly insistent that the one they had cornered was a rogue that refused to abide by whatever arrangement humanity as a whole had made with their species.

"How did this one manage to land without anybody seeing him?" asked Jack.

Schmidt shook her head. "Somebody got lazy, ja? Seward's Folly is not someplace for smugglers, and there is nothing important here." She shrugged her shoulders. "You should go to the quartermaster's and get your kit, in case you need to deploy. The Major likes to test out the new people so he can see how they perform."

The kit provided for security troops was actually pretty impressive. The body armor was a high-tech alloy of some kind. It wasn't, strictly speaking, powered armor, but it did have a battery pack for what the manual called a structural integrity and reactive countermeasure field. Supposedly, the system could blunt most of the incoming energy from an attack before it even hit the armor. There was also a military-quality biomonitor, and a heads-up display built into the helmet that linked into the local tactical network. They also issued him something called a PED. The acronym stood for, "phased electrical discharge," and it was a stun gun. It was supposed to be capable of bringing down a charging bull, was perfectly safe for the target (ignoring injuries from falling over), could be used at long range, and held ten shots before needing a new battery pack. The manual said that, "discharge into a single target more than five times is counter-indicated; serious medical issues may occur in that instance," but it didn't specify what those "medical issues" might be. Jack was happy he was allowed to keep his personal sidearm. The Beretta 220 was a modern update of the classic Beretta 92's used at one time by the United States military. It used a high-velocity 7mm round, and had a biometric safety system that wouldn't let the gun fire unless he, personally, was holding it properly. It was his go-to gun for the firing range, so he was happy to keep it.

For some reason, Jack had to sign his name on an actual piece of paper to get his armor. Luckily, the rest of his on-boarding was done with electronic forms. He was filling them out when he got a call to duty over his radio. He met his team at the security transport, where he was issued an assault rifle and met Sergeant Donaldson and three other security force members. Donaldson looked him over assessingly, then nodded and said, "All right, troops, we've got cleanup detail. Some friends have taken care of the Hunter in the caves, and we have to go in and find what's left and make sure there's nothing dangerous to the colonists."

"Friends, sir?" asked one of the other troopers, a dark-skinned man of indeterminate ethnicity with the name, "Singh," on his tag.

Donaldson shook his head. "The Major didn't give me any details...he just said all of the hostiles had been neutralized."

Private Scolly frowned. He didn't like the apparent lack of intelligence. The other trooper, Singh, obviously noticed, because he said, "Hey, don't worry so much. The Major's solid. If he didn't think we needed to know, then it probably isn't relevant to the mission."

"Enough chatter," said the Sergeant. "Everybody into the transport!"

The transport was a military-grade hovercraft that was well-suited to a variety of different terrains, at least on this continent, which had fairly wide open plains and sparse forests for most of it, including a large river delta area to the south. The ride to the cave system took about ninety minutes, most of which Jack spent answering questions from the rest of the team. He managed to avoid embarrassing himself with his answers. The cave system that was their destination was built into a rocky, hilly area that bordered the flat plain to the east of the main settlement. The five-man squad bailed out of the hovercraft, leaving the driver to seal it up and wait. Donaldson told Scolly to take point, which he did after flicking on his gunlight. He wondered if the Sergeant was putting his most expendable man first, or if he was really that confident that the area was safe and wanted to test him out?

There was a tight section at the mouth of the cave where they had to move single file, but it rapidly opened up into a wider cavern. The walls and floors were damp with moisture, and the temperature was noticeably cooler than the outside air. Scolly stopped when he saw something on the floor just at the edge of his lamplight. "Something there!" he said, causing two more beams to focus on the area. There was a...creature lying on the floor, obviously dead if the large hole in it's head meant anything. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Xenomorph," replied Donaldson. "Stay away from the blood. It's acidic."

Jack just let the air hiss out through his teeth, letting out the breath he had been holding. They advanced forward, giving the dead alien a wide berth. Further down the passage, they found another dead alien, though this one matched the pictures shared by Schmidt of the Yautja. His forearm was missing, and it looked as though its throat had been torn out. Slightly farther on, there were another two dead xenomorphs.

"What the hell happened here?" asked Private Winters, the only woman on the squad. She had been fairly quiet on the ride over, leaving the questioning to her compatriots. Looking at the carnage, she seemed both puzzled and slightly anxious.

Donaldson looked over the corpses with his light. Finally, he said, "The help must have been from the Guild. They're friendly with the Company."

Something finally clicked for Jack. "Wait, aren't these the things that the bioweapons division was testing on colonists?" The thought made him slightly ill.

Donaldson spat on the ground. "The bioweapons shitheads didn't have a clue what they were doing. They were playing with weaponized lifeforms that they just found on a planet somewhere. The only thing they cared about was being able to resell them to the military...and too fucking bad if they couldn't actually control the things."

"Jesus..." muttered Winters.

"So what are these things doing here?" asked Jack.

"The Guild are aliens who can actually control these things," said the Sergeant. "At least, that's what we've been told. I don't know why they're helping Weyland-Yutani after we stole from them, but I can't say I'm sorry. These Hunters..." he said as he gestured with his rifle toward the dead alien, "...are tough bastards. We could have easily lost people if we had had to take him on ourselves. Now we just have to police the area. Singh, Scolly...go back to the transport. We've got a container of lye that we need for the xenomorph blood, and grab four large bodybags. Winters and Cheng, head down the passage another ten meters and make sure we're not missing anything."

On the way back to the hovercraft, Scolly said, "The Sarge seems to know a lot about these aliens?"

Singh nodded. "Before he joined the Company, he was part of the marine platoon that helped clean up the company base on LV-426. Keep your questions about it, though. Don't ask him unless he's got a couple beers in him...but you may not like the stories."

"I'm surprised he works for the Company, then," replied Jack.

The other trooper smirked. "They recruited him because of it. The new management wanted people in security who knew how fucked up that whole situation was and didn't like it."

Jack considered that. "Well, that's good, I guess." Maybe working for the Company wouldn't be as bad as some of his friends said?

"I'll get the bags...you get the lye. That shit's heavy, new guy," said Singh with another grin.

"Yeah, yeah, OK..." he said, getting to work.

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

"Newt, turn off the vid. You're going to be late for school." Ellen was putting a lunch bag in her daughter's backpack.

"Just a second!" said the girl. "This is the best part."

Ellen grabbed the remote and clicked off the television. "You've seen that already, and I have to get to work, too."

"I still like watching it," said the girl, but she started to put her shoes on.

The two were soon out the door, with Ellen heading to her car while Newt went to the bus station, the two bidding each other a final, "Love you!" before parting. Dwayne was already at work, as he had had an earlier shift, getting another group of staff ready for training on some of the Family-provided gear. Newt watched her adoptive mother pull away and head down the street, then waited quietly for another couple of minutes until the bus arrived.

This was her third day at her new school. Newt had wanted to go to the school being setup for Family associates, but it wasn't ready yet. That meant going to grade school in Brockton Bay for at least a year. Honestly, it wasn't that different from the colony school that had been running on LV-426, though Brockton Bay was less technology-focused...and spent less time on emergency preparedness, especially now that the Endbringers were no longer attacking cities. Her classmates had been friendly enough, but it was a little hard to feel safe without her parents around. The school had been told that her parents had been killed in an Endbringer attack, so most of the teachers understood why she kept to himself. Most of the other kids seemed to get that, too...though not all of them.

"Why don't you talk?" asked the heavyset kid. He was a year older than Rebecca, and seemed to not like it when people ignored him. Mostly, she was annoyed with him. A playground bully was hardly going to frighten her given her life.

"Leave her alone, Stevie," said one of the girls from her class. Rebecca smiled slightly at that.

"Shut up, Jessica," he said to the girl, then noticed Newt's smile. "What are you smiling at?" He moved to grab her arm, but she easily avoided him. Her uncle Xander had taught her some basic ways to protect herself, but not getting caught was something she already knew.

She stepped back and glared at him. "I talk," she said.

"You never talk to other kids," he said, ignoring her response. "You're like some kind of freak."

The girl, Jessica, moved closer to Rebecca. "If you don't leave her alone, I'm going to go get Mrs. Frost." Mrs. Frost was the playground supervisor for recess.

Stevie glared at her. "You better watch yourself..."

"Just go away," said Jessica. He frowned, but went off to find somebody else to bother. "Are you OK?" she asked Rebecca.

"I'm fine," she said. "He's not that scary."

"He's a big jerk, is what he is," said Jessica. "He lives in my neighborhood, and he pushes the smaller kids around. I'm Jessica, by the way."

"Rebecca...but my friends call me Newt," was the answer.

"Ew, Newt? Why that?" asked the other girl, scrunching up her face.

Rebecca frowned, though she no longer felt like crying every time she thought of her family. "My brother used to call me that...before he died."

The girls look of disgust turned to sympathy. "Sorry." There was an awkward pause. "My daddy used to call me Princess...back before...well, he got caught between two gangs that were fighting. You can call me that if you want." There was another, nicer pause. "Do you want to go use the swings?"

"OK," replied Rebecca, and the two of them went off together.

* * * * *​

Ellen put the large piece of sheet steel from the freighter in the rail car, marveling out how smoothly Vectura's construction mech moved. It was a thousand percent better than the cargo lifters from back home. She had to agree with most of her coworkers. Tinkers were bullshit. Even Dwayne was jealous that she got to pilot one. He said the marines would have killed to have a handful of the machines, especially if they were properly up-gunned. She hadn't told him about the literal railgun attachment back at the garage. Nor had she mentioned the flight or stealth modes. She was hoping to save that for a prank, as soon as he did something that deserved a little payback. She smirked. He was surprisingly considerate for a marine, but he was still a man, and would undoubtedly screw up at some point.

Her smirk turned into a worried frown as she turned her thoughts to Newt. She was in a new school, and Ripley wasn't sure how well she would handle that. They had managed, through much effort, to get her comfortable enough to not need her or Dwayne constantly. Xander and Anya had helped a lot with that, as had the Nox, once the girl finally started trusting them enough to talk to them. Going to school was a big step, though, especially as Brockton Bay's educational system wasn't anything like what the girl would have had back at her colony. Ellen wasn't entirely sure how most colony schools worked, but she doubted they were much like this Earth's schools. Metis had assured her that her school was one of the good ones, and they had made sure to let the administration know that Newt's family had been killed...though they had said it was an Endbringer attack rather than a xenomorph infestation. The explanation would likely cover any slips by Newt, who wasn't old enough to really keep a secret like that from adults.

The mech, under Ellen's direction, had made it back to the section of hull they were carving up. This portion was fairly thin, so she used the attached cutting blade to slice off another chunk. The trick to it was to get a balanced chunk, else it was hard to maneuver into the rail cars. It had taken her a few tries at first, but the machine's controls were so intuitive that it was like working with her own hands. Not for the first time, she thought about what the fight with the Queen on the Sulaco would have been like if she had had Vectura's mech instead. It would have been over a hell of a lot more quickly, at least.

About 11:30, she got a radio call. "Hey Ellen, Dwayne's here and he wants to know if you want to join him for lunch," came the voice of her supervisor, Neil. "You can take your lunch a little early. We're making really good progress with this hull."

After thanking Neil, she walked the mech over to the staging area and popped the canopy. Dwayne was waiting for her off to the side, far enough from the work area that he wouldn't need a hardhat. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and asked, "How are the new recruits doing?"

"Not bad," he said. "A few of them are ex-military, one was a cop, and a few more have gang experience."

Ellen raised an eyebrow. "And that doesn't cause any problems?" She wouldn't think the gang types would get along with the others.

He shook his head. "Not really, no. The way Mark explained it, work used to be a lot more scarce. It wasn't that unusual for guys to take jobs as henchmen for villains."

"Henchmen?" she asked slightly incredulously.

He laughed. "It's a thing around here, at least on this version of Earth."

Ripley shook her head. It was still strange to think that superheroes and villains used to have battles in the streets of the city. Things were much quieter now, thanks in no small part to the Family. She had seen footage from the old days, though, and it was like watching a movie. Danny had also told them a few stories about the bad old days, back when the Teeth were still in town before they got driven out by Marquis.

"How are things going with the wreck?" he asked after a bit.

"Quickly," she said. "The crew here has it down to a science after their experience taking apart the first ship. I'm looking forward to getting this one done, though. I haven't actually seen Kaiju at work here, and she's going to move the next ship." They had seen the video, of course, but everybody said it was different seeing it first-hand.

"That'll be something," agreed Dwayne. "Do you think Newt will want to see it?"

Ellen frowned again. "I don't know. We can ask her, if her therapist says it's OK." The girl was still being seen every other weekend by somebody recommended by the PRT. She was a therapist with a strong background in helping disaster survivors, although in this world, disasters included cape battles and Endbringer fights.

Dwayne looked at the expression on his wife's face. "She's getting better. It's just going to take time."

She gave him a sad smile. "I know."

"Come on, let's get to the cafeteria. They have curry today," added Dwayne.

That resulted in a actual smile. Ellen was looking forward to lunch now.

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

YEARS LATER...

The Master Biologist looked out on the vast cavern filled with breeding chambers. It had taken a lot of effort to obtain the sample they needed, but the creature known as Doomsday had served as the progenitor of a new army, and they would be ready soon. After that, the Guild would lose their grip on his people, and the Family and their allies would fall. The Master allowed himself a small smile.

There was a strange noise, like a puff of gas being released, and then another, and then the Master Biologist and his Assistant were both unconscious. The large purple lizard moved over to the computer terminal and began accessing things, making a few random noises of annoyance. Then she triggered her communicator. "Metis, it's about what we feared. This idiot was creating an army of mutated Kryptonians."

"How far along did he get?" asked her cousin.

"They're almost mature. They're also fully sapient, so I don't want to just destroy them," said Ianthe.

"How many are there? Are there enough to create a stable breeding population?" asked Metis. "We could always find a homeworld for them."

Ianthe frowned. "We could, except they're all male, and they're all sterile. This moron was looking for an army, not a species. You know how hard it is to modify Kryptonian physiology, too."

There was a pause. "We could turn them over to the Guardians. They're a lot better than they used to be, and won't take the easy way out." In other words, they weren't likely to try and make them obedient servants like the Manhunters, or try and imprison them forever like Parallax.

"Wouldn't that be US taking the easy way out?" asked Ianthe.

There was a sigh from Metis, and she replied, "Fine. I guess we have to take the Destiny approach again..."

* * * * *​

Margath woke. He instinctively flexed his muscles, causing the container he was in to creak slightly. The glass container lid opened, and he pushed himself to his feet. In front of him was a creature...reptilian, and seemingly powerful. Margath made ready to leap to attack this challenger...

"STOP," said the creature.

Margath almost stumbled at the force of the single word. He paused, unsure how to continue.

"Good. We have some things to discuss," said the lizard.

* * * * *​

Margath sat, staring out the window at open space. He found it strangely relaxing. The lizards had helped him calm his rage, and had explained things to him. He had no home, and no family other than his brothers. What he did have, however, were options...almost too many of them. The black lizard, Metis, had suggested a trial period while he got to know himself. That was a challenge when you were literally born yesterday...

* * * * *​

The audience was really energetic tonight, stamping their feet to Ylfir's drum intro. Marie began playing her guitar, while Jimmy kept time with the bass guitar. Margath stepped up to the mic, feet moving to the beat, and began the song with a long, powerful scream. "YAAARRRGGH!"

After the kick-ass set was over, Margath and the others began putting away their kit. Ylfir wouldn't let anybody touch his drum set. The Asgard was picky about that. Marie, on the other hand, was perfectly happy to let Margath do the heavy lifting, despite being a slayer. She was even stronger than Jimmy, who was half Brachen demon, but she played the "helpless woman" card. Margath didn't mind. She was an AWESOME guitarist, so it was worth it. They were, after all, the most popular thrash metal band in five galaxies.

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

Rebecca looked at the monument. It had taken her a while to find her family, but their names were about halfway down. Russel Jordan. Anne Jordan. Timothy Jordan. She reached out and put her finger tips to the names. "Mommy, Daddy, Timmy...it's Rebecca. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to come see you. I...didn't want to come back here for a long time."

The monument was set in the middle of a flat plain of melted glass, the site where the original colony settlement had been vaporized in a reactor explosion. The area was no longer radioactive, and hadn't been for years. The monument had been put up as soon as it was clean, and it listed almost everybody who had died on the planet to the xenomorphs. Rebecca didn't remember more than a few of the other colonists, other than her family. She did remember some of the marines, who had their own section of the monument at the end. She was currently the only one visiting. It took a bit of hiking to get there, so most visitors were either family or, ironically, class field trips from the school on Sineya Station. Most of the slayers and Jaffa did make it down at least once to pay their respects, she had heard.

"So, I don't know if you've been watching me. I like to think that you have been. My new Mom and Dad have taken good care of me. I hope that makes you happy. Mom...I hid, just like you told me too before they got you. I survived." Rebecca paused, unsure what to say. After a few moments, she continued. "I'm about to graduate high school. I think I'm going to be an engineer, just like Daddy, and my new Mom. We'll see how that goes."

The planet itself was now mostly called Sineya. Nobody called it Acheron, or the even more awkward designation, "LV-426." Most visitors assumed the station was named for the planet, although it was really the other way around. Fewer still connected the planet with the disaster that had led to the Weyland-Yutani scandal. That was probably just as well. The company was very different these days under the guidance of Bishop and Dragon, so there was no sense bringing up the crimes of the former management, most of whom were still in prison.

"I'll try to come back and visit. It depends on how college goes, I guess." That was a little disingenuous. The Family would make sure she could come back whenever she wanted almost instantly. She wasn't sure she was emotionally up to making regular visits, however. "I'm glad I came to see you guys, though, and I miss you." For the first time in years, she shed a tear for her lost family. It took her some time to collect herself and begin the walk back.

As she was walking back, her phone rang. The name on the screen was, "PRINCESS." "Hey, Jess," she answered.

"How did it go?" asked her best friend.

Rebecca thought about it for a second, then said, "It was good. I think it was good."

"Great," said Jessica. "You can tell me all about it when you get back. You know Kyle is throwing a graduation party, and he asked if you were coming."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "Really?" That...was...amazing! "What did he say?"

They kept talking until Rebecca had to hang up to teleport.
 
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Epilogue: Skitter-verse
Epilogue: Skitter-verse

Taylor looked up at Carlos. "So, who are we meeting?" Her team leader had been vague on the details.

The boy smirked. "Dean and Vicky."

Taylor's jaw dropped. "You asked me on a double date with Glory Girl?" While she didn't expect the girl to attack her now that she was a Ward, she also didn't expect her to be happy to see her.

"Dean suggested it," said Carlos. "He said it would be fine."

Taylor looked at him skeptically, then shrugged and said, "I'm not responsible for any property damage that results."

Carlos frowned. "Vicky is getting better at controlling her strength, especially out of costume..."

"I never said it would be Vicky," she replied ominously.

Carlos swallowed, then put a smile on his face as they turned the corner and saw Vicky and Dean standing in front of the movie theater. "Carlos!" called out Dean with a wave.

Carlos and Taylor walked over to them. Taylor smiled warmly at Dean and slightly uncomfortably at Vicky, who was looking back at them with a worryingly unreadable expression.

The group didn't talk much before the film, with most of the slightly awkward silence filled by discussion about the social happenings at Arcadia. The film itself with an Earth Aleph import -- a fairly mindless action film/comedy that was acceptable as a way to fill an afternoon, but wasn't likely to win any awards unless somebody added a category for, "most excessive use of pyrotechnics." After the movie, the four ended up at a nearby Thai restaurant...one that hadn't benefited from implied reptile endorsements in this universe.

"Vicky, how has Amy been lately? I haven't seen much of her recently," said Carlos.

The blonde girl frowned. "She's fine...I guess. She and Mom have been going to therapy together."

"Really?" said Taylor. From things that Saurial and Lisa had said, she didn't think Amy and Carol Dallon got along that well.

Glory Girl gave her a sharp glance, then softened her look and sighed. "After Dad got healed, he started to be a lot more aware and engaged in things."

"Which is a good thing?" asked Dean.

"Yes, but he began to notice how strained the relationship between Amy and Mom was, and he started confronting Mom about it. It actually led to their first fight...or at least the first one where Dad didn't simply give in. It finally boiled over in a New Wave meeting, and Aunt Sarah actually took Dad's side, which I think shocked Mom enough to make her listen. Apparently, Amy had already spoken to Aunt Sarah about a few things." Vicky's face changed to a look of sadness. "She...told us about how my sister was walking to the hospital in the middle of the night out of guilt."

Without thinking, Taylor reached out and put her hand on Vicky's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Vicky looked up at the other girl, almost confused. "You really are, aren't you? You're also the reason the lizards are here. Dad was picked for the new healing trials."

Taylor flushed a little in embarrassment. "I didn't do much...mostly I just got stuck in the wrong place at the right time."

They fell quiet on the topic as the waiter brought over their appetizers, a combo platter of skewered chicken, fried tofu and popcorn shrimp.

"This isn't really the best place for that kind of conversation," commented Carlos. Vicky was the only one of them with a fully public identity, after all.

The conversation after that turned to safer topics, though Vicky was obviously in a better mood and was more friendly overall. She even made an effort to include Taylor in the conversation, and made a rather intimidating offer to take the girl shopping for new clothes. After dinner, while Carlos was walking her home, Taylor made a comment about the possible shopping trip.

"It's her way of trying to get to know you better," commented Carlos. "I mean, Dean said she's still angry about the bank, and a little freaked out over the changes in her family, but she's also happy about her Dad's improvement and knows that it's all because you met the Lizards."

"So is that why you agreed to the double date with them?" asked Taylor, eyeing him speculatively.

Carlos chuckled. "It's kind of hard to top a first date to a wedding on a starship."

She couldn't help but laugh about it. She also couldn't help but lean in to him when they got to her front door. It wasn't a bad first kiss, though she was surprised that she initiated it.

Upstairs, Danny smiled to himself as he watched through the window as the young man walked away. Downstairs, the front door closed.

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

Ianthe and Doctor Mother were discussing the case of a particular Case 53.

"The problem that we have is that she doesn't want to have her powers removed," explained Doctor Mother. "The reason the girl agreed to take a vial in the first place is that she was suicidal and wanted a new life. She doesn't want to lose her powers, but she would like a somewhat more human appearance."

Ianthe looked at the photos. The "girl" didn't have any feminine traits, and indeed looked more like a skinny teen male. Her skin was grey and pebbly, and instead of eyes, she had a bright red gemstone-like growth in the middle of her forehead. Her power was the ability to induce a dream-like virtual reality on a target, and she went by the name, "Cyclops."

"There's no guarantee her powers will stay the same if we start trying to alter the connection to her agent," said Ianthe. Simple biosculpting also probably wouldn't work, as powers that altered a person's physical form tended to override or revert anything she could do. Linda had been lucky that her tinker agent didn't care what she looked like.

Doctor Mother handed her another tablet. "We do have a good read on what was wrong with her original vial."

Ianthe looked at the information. "This is a lot more thorough than normal."

"David's...your David's, second trigger opened up some thinker powers related to analyzing other powers. Frankly, if we had had access to them earlier, we could have avoided many of the worst Case 53 problems like Echidna," said the woman. The Family had turned over the notes they received from the Archive to the Parahuman Research Institute, the new organization formed on the bones of Cauldron to try and mitigate some of the damage done by the shadow war against Scion in two universes. Noelle Meinhardt was no longer a threat in either universe, but she still served as an example of how badly the power vials could malfunction or be misused, and they used her "cape name" given in Wildbow's notes for reference.

The purple lizard frowned. "Or, it may have just drawn Scion's attention, given the source of Eidolon's powers. He might even have been able to resurrect the second entity."

"Thankfully, that's not a scenario we'll have to worry about," said Doctor Mother with a hand wave. "Do you think you can help Cyclops?"

"Probably, but I have to consult with some other experts," said Ianthe. "At worst, we could construct a gynoid body for her brain. Her power probably wouldn't be able to alter a machine. The Nox might have some ideas about altering the agent directly, but they tend to be dismissive of what they see as an unhealthy parasite. There may also be a mystical healing option that would overpower the agent's resistance."

Doctor Mother nodded. "I was hoping you would have other options you could bring to bear. While I have no doubt that we might eventually learn how to fix it ourselves, there is no reason the poor girl should have to suffer while we take the time necessary to do so."

Ianthe knew the woman considered unnecessary suffering to be inefficient, which explained her concern. It wasn't that she didn't care, but after many years of making what she thought were hard choices to save humanity, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that her senses of ethics and morality were a bit atrophied. The fact that Doctor Mother acknowledged this was part of the reason why the Family could still work with her, despite their frustration at how foolish the overall plans of Cauldron had been. "I'm sure we'll have at least one option, if not several, within a few days. Are there any other difficult cases?"

The woman frowned. "Most of the Case 53's are either treated, are still being located, or haven't made any decisions. Alexandria and Legend have been focusing on clearing up lesser threats while Eidolon handles the S-class threats like Nilbog, the Furies, and so forth. There is one that is still cause for concern, however, in that we don't even have a plan for dealing with them."

"You're talking about the Butcher?" asked Ianthe. That particular cape was problematic for other capes to stop, as the original Butcher agent would jump to its host's killer, taking along all of the semi-insane personalities of previous Butchers. Challengers who didn't follow the "rules" for beating Butcher tended to be quickly driven insane. The Butcher also kept variations on each host's power, making it more powerful each time it jumped hosts, and thus more difficult to beat.

"We were hoping the Family might have a solution to that problem?" Doctor Mother looked at the lizard with a hopeful expression.

"I can bring it back to the others and see if they can come up with anything," suggested Ianthe.

The dark-skinned woman had obviously been hoping for a more definitive answer, but had to be satisfied with Ianthe's response. The Family usually came up with a solution of some kind to even the most difficult problems.

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

Butcher was one of the most feared crime lords in Boston. The Teeth were a force to be feared, but apart from that, no cape on either side of the hero/villain divide wanted to risk being the Butcher's next host. They were one of two primary gangs in Boston, with Accord and his Ambassadors being the other, leading to an odd order versus chaos vibe to things. It was somewhat amusing to many that despite that rivalry, Boston was still calmer than Brockton Bay. That city had forced out the Teeth under an earlier Butcher, though this said more about Brockton Bay than it did about the gang or their new home.

Most of Butcher's opponents would have been rather surprised to see her sitting calmly at a table, eating pizza. Despite being a questionably sane and ridiculously powerful cape, she still had to eat, however, and the pizza was some of the best in Boston. The shop that made it was respected enough to be considered neutral ground by both the Ambassadors and the Teeth, a neutrality that the Protectorate and independents like Blasto violated at their own risk. The Meat Lovers pizza in front of butcher was made with just the right combination of spices, and included a really succulent lamb sausage as one of the toppings.

The half-eaten slice stopped halfway to her mouth when another person appeared in the room. The Butcher's fight or flight response was paused in mid-reaction as she took in exactly who her guest was. The short blonde girl with green eyes was dressed in a dark prison uniform that appeared in the shape of a shroud. She seemed to have shadowy figures flanking her, a step behind. "Glaistig Uaine," said Butcher. "What are you doing out of the Birdcage?" The Faerie Queen was one of the few capes that even the Butcher felt was worth trying dialog before violence. It was commonly known that she had taken Gray Boy, among many other capes, and that was a power that even Butcher feared.

"The faeries have told me that something interesting is going to happen," said the girl in her odd way of speaking...a chaotic cacophony of mixed voices that nevertheless somehow came out seeming elegant. "I have taken a temporary leave from the Birdcage to witness it."

"You're not here to fight?" asked the Butcher.

"Not today," she confirmed with an enigmatic smile.

Butcher regarded her for a moment. Then she shrugged. "Do you mind if I finish my lunch? Have a slice, if you like."

Without responding, the Faerie Queen stepped up to the box and pulled out a slice. After taking a bite, her eyes widened slightly. "This is quite good," she replied.

Butcher just grunted in response, and finished her own slice. She paused in reaching for another as a sharp, blinding pain appeared in her mind. The sudden pain was completely debilitating, both because of its intensity and because she was used to being immune to that sensation. Her head dropped to the table as blood ran down from one nostril. Her last thoughts were obscured by mind-numbing agony.

Glaistig Uaine reached over the table and put her hand on the Butcher's forehead, feeling the other faerie kept imprisoned by Butcher join her chorus. A shadowy figure of Quarrel manifested to her side, appearing much as she had before becoming Butcher Fourteen.

"You claimed you were not here to fight," said Quarrel, an irritated look of betrayal on her face.

The Queen smiled sadly. "This was not my doing." She then carefully closed the pizza box in order to take it with her. The Butcher wouldn't be finishing her last meal, and it would be a shame to waste such an excellent pizza.

* * * * *​

"Well, that seems to have worked," said Saurial, looking down at the sensor readings.

"Yes, and the disintegration torpedoes have the advantage of not risking igniting the atmosphere," agreed the small dragon perched on a nearby console.

Below them, the physical form of the power that was known as Butcher was now a mixture of tattered scraps of organic material around an empty core still swirling with dust.

Behind them, Metis said, "It's too bad that tracking down the individual shards is such a pain in the ass when the cape isn't cooperating. We should be able to track down our Butcher fairly easily given the parallels with this reality, but we would have to do a separate search for any other capes with powers that needed destroying."

"Luckily, we shouldn't have to. David is more than capable of taking care of most of the other threats," commented Varga.

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

David looked down at where Ashbeast was meandering across the Sahara. He had no idea why the creature was crossing a lifeless desert, though most of the continent was perfectly happy when it wandered away from populated areas. It would undoubtedly make its way back, however, so it was better to deal with it permanently. Luckily, the current location made dealing with Ashbeast fairly easy. David sent out the mental command.

The desert sands began to shift and vibrate. Ashbeast trudged on, apparently capable of ignoring the unsteady footing. What it couldn't ignore, however, was the massive crevasse that opened in front of it, loose sand cascading down. A clawed hand began to pull on the edge, pushing through the sand to the bedrock beneath to help lever the form of Behemoth into sight. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary for the Endbringer to completely clear the earth. As soon as it caught sight of Ashbeast, it began to drain energy. After a relatively short time, the constantly regenerating explosion of flame around the S-class threat diminished, and then finally went out. All that was left of Ashbeast was a desiccated body that barely looked humanoid.

The Endbringer appeared to pause and regard Eidolon briefly, then began digging its way back down into the Earth. The shifting sands soon covered up any sign of its passage, as well as the remains of Ashbeast.

David let out a sigh. His visit to the Nox, thanks to the Family, had actually resulted in a second trigger, as well as a new resolve to clean up the messes caused by Endbringers, Cauldron's experiments, and powers in general. He was spending his time split between his own dimension and this one, as the Eidolon in this world had gone elsewhere. He wasn't sure where, exactly, but the lizards had assured him that his counterpart was fighting an even greater threat than Scion had been.

After a moment's reflection, he teleported from Africa to North America. The quarantined city of Madison lay below him. It was time to start cleaning up yet another mess.

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

Alec opened the door to his apartment. While technically a member of the Protectorate, the former supervillain spent most of his days using his powers in concert with PRT medical staff and doctors at the Cleveland Clinic, helping them understand major issues with nerve damage, paralysis and disorders like Parkinson's disease. Most people might have felt a certain amount of satisfaction at the work, but for Alec it was more about being well compensated and largely left alone. Ohio was a bit close to the Canadian border, but that was less of an issue after his father's unexpected disappearance, along with much of his immediate family and most of his father's thralls. Of course, most was not the same as all of them.

"Hello, Jean Paul," said the woman sitting at his kitchen table, drinking his coffee.

Alec stood in the doorway, regarding his eldest sister. "Hello, Cherie." Finally, he stepped inside and closed the door. "What brings you here?"

Cherie took a sip of her coffee. "I heard rumors about what happened to father. I wanted to know if those rumors are true."

Alec hung up his jacket, then went over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup. Uncharacteristically, Cherie had thoughtfully made enough for two. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

She smirked. "I'm playing nice. I honestly want to know what happened to Heartbreaker and the family."

Alec knew he probably wasn't supposed to share information about that with unaffiliated capes, but he honestly found it hard to give a shit, and Cherie was family. "Our father suborned Toybox."

The look of alarm on Cherie's face told him she understood the ramifications of that. "Shit. The PRT just let that happen?"

He just chuckled. "The local PRT fucked up. Dragon warned them that father was on the move, but they ignored it until it was too late. The local Director supposedly retired to spend more time with his family shortly after that."

"So why isn't father currently carving out his own empire in the Midwest United States right now?" asked his sister.

"You mean besides the fact that he's a lazy, hedonistic sack of shit?"

"Yes, besides that," she said, giving him a look that clearly questioned his intelligence.

Alec sat down on the other side of the table with his mug. "He had one of the tinkers there build a portal to another dimension. The Protectorate thinkers aren't sure exactly where, but they think he went somewhere without capes...or at least with fewer capes than here. Someplace he could take over. They also think he isn't coming back anytime soon."

"And the Protectorate just shared this information with you?"

Now it was the former Undersider's turn to smirk. "No, but Dragon was a lot more forthcoming. Nikos Vasil is gone, and he took most of our siblings with him, including Aroa and Juliette."

Cherie visibly relaxed slightly at hearing that. While some of their siblings, like Candy, weren't so bad, Aroa and Juliette could be frightening, especially if their father wasn't there to intimidate them. Aroa had a sadistic streak, and Juliette was cold and ruthless. "So, with father gone, you're content to go legit and work for the Protectorate."

"It pays well, and I mostly get left alone," he said in a neutral tone. It also kept him from crossing certain lines that were likely to get him sent to the Birdcage.

His sister stood up from the table, leaving her mostly-empty dirty mug on the table. "Well, good for you then. I don't think I'm ready to put on a leash, yet, myself." She began walking to the door.

Annoyed at her attitude, Alec said, "You know that without the Endbringers, the Protectorate and the Guild aren't going to be so forgiving of villains?"

She opened Alec's front door, then turned and said, "That just means you don't get caught." Then she walked out and closed it.

Alec frowned, then shrugged his shoulders and went over to turn on his gaming console. He probably should report the visit to the Protectorate, but that could wait. He liked his sister barely enough to give her a head start.

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



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Topic: Eidolon Watch
In: Boards ► News ► Triumvirate
Winged One
(Verified Super Troll)
Posted On Oct 2nd, 2012:

It's no secret to anybody that sightings of Eidolon have been sparse recently. He's been seen a few times, usually dealing with a major problem like lifting the Madison quarantine. Link to the thread on that here.

Rumor has it that he finally figured out how to deal with the Endbringers, which is why they stopped attacking. I was wondering, though...what if instead of defeating the endbringers, he simply managed to control them?

(Showing page 180 of 433)

► MadLad
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
I don't know, Winged One, that seems kind of a stretch. How would you control an Endbringer? Isn't it much more likely that Eidolon figured out how to unlock some part of his power that lets him deal with S-class threats more easily? I mean, he was one of the world's most powerful capes even before the Endbringers stopped attacking...​
Space Zombie
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
If he was controlling them, then why hasn't anybody seen them?​
XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Nobody actually really knows what the range of an Endbringer's powers really is. I mean, it's been documented that they sometimes show new tactics and abilities, so who knows what they can really do? For all we know, the Simurgh might be able to manipulate people without leaving orbit.​
Char (Veteran Member)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
I hate it when Void makes sense, especially about something so terrifying.​
Curious_Kitten (Cape Groupie)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Do we know how many S-class threats Eidolon has handled in the last few months? He was confirmed to be responsible for the Furies and Nilbog. What about the S9? The PRT never really explained what happened to them, beyond saying they were defeated?​
Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
The official story for the S9 is that they were taken down by a little-known affiliate team known as the Justice League. My contacts confirm that, but there isn't really any information beyond that.​
I've heard rumors that Eidolon also took care of Ashbeast.​
WildStyle
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Has anybody heard anything about the Justice League? Like from the old comic books?​
AllSeeingEye
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Maybe the Protectorate figured out how to open a portal to a dimension where comic book characters are real?​
Char (Veteran Member)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Right...and the lizards who chased away Leviathan are secretly part of the Illuminati?​
XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
It could happen!​
SeniorEel
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
No, it couldn't.​
What I want to know is what happened to Heartbreaker? Did Eidolon take him down as well?​
Brilliger (Moderator)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
SeniorEel: it's been confirmed that he didn't. The thread to talk about Heartbreaker is here.​
mpPi (Veteran Member) (Verified Troll)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
Eidolon probably got help from the lizards. They seem to pop up when you least expect it.​
Glory Girl (Verified Cape) (New Wave)
Replied on Oct 3rd, 2012:​
They are very strange, but I'm happy they came. I wouldn't be surprised if they had something to do with Eidolon.​
 
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Not Ada
Saurial walked into the BBFO offices, to find Metis deeply immersed in reviewing technical documentation.

"What's up?"

Metis looked up. "Did you realize that in at least three other realities, the Department of Defense created their own programming language and mandated use of it for contracts?"

There was a pause. "I did not know that. Why?"

The black lizard shook her head. "From what I've been able to find, the introduction of computing was much more chaotic than in our world, or in most worlds with super powers. It has to do with the lack of tinkers, other types of enhanced intellects or alien technology. There were no standards for languages, so they pretty much forced a solution on contractors."

Saurial shrugged. "Makes sense. So is that the standard language in those realities?"

Metis winced. "Not so much. While it has a lot of advanced features, it's also exceedingly complex, and hasn't adapted to changes in computing technology -- especially changes in platforms to smaller portable devices."

The smaller lizard girl went over to the drink machine and began pouring herself a mug of coffee. "All right. So why are you spending your time on it?"

"I'm not, really. It inspired me to come up with our own programming language, however," replied Metis.

Saurial frowned. "Do we really need FamCode, in addition to FamTalk?"

"Dragon's programming languages are all extremely well written, but they don't inherently support Family capabilities. I want compiler support for quantum entanglement data transfer as well as massively parallel FTL processing. There are things you can do with dimensionally-shifted processing cores that should make things like long-key brute force decryption something that can happen in real time. I mean, in a sense, that's similar to how thinker powers work," explained Metis.

"Interesting. Let me know what you come up with. Does your new language have a name?" asked Saurial.

Metis smirked. "I was thinking Lovelace."

"Nice."
 
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