NationStates Jolt Archive

We started this in the Princes Coming of ages thread, but we were just a kind of side-plot and we got buried in other peoples posts which quickly stopped having any kind of relevance to us. So, here's the last post that I consider relevant (after that some misunderstandings occurred due to not being able to find our posts in the deluge) and the link. We could open it to others after we get out of the country, maybe, Findhorn? Or not. Whatever.

BTW I'll be in hospital Wednesday to Friday, so don't get all pissed off when I don't answer.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=391273&page=83&pp=15

"Err..." Sakura stared at the two...Apparently drunk girls. "I would...But..."

Sakura's brow started to twinge with irritation. Sakura sighed then slowly started to vanish. At the same time, Alex started to wake up.

"Wha? What's going on?" Alex looked around, and was surprised once he laid eyes on Jenna, who was already intoxicated. "Uhh...Should I even ask?"

Jenna groaned. "Damn. Reckon I... kinda over-did the whole... have-a-drink-to-calm-down thing... jush a little." She glanced at Flick. "Er... tell him what happened will you? I don't think I'm upfer it righ' now."

Nonplussed, Flick began, "Well it was like this ... " -- she thought briefly -- "... no, it wasn't, actually," she concluded.

Alex sighed.

"You weren't here!" she said hotly. "It was just as bad as what went on at Maritzar, only worse, and what with Salazar still blowing things up and ... Okay." She took a deep breath. "You don't need to know all that. Try this: One: Sakura's back, and independent. Two: she took you over, we think. Three: she's overpowered Makie, possibly, though I'm not entirely sure. Four: something's going on with the bunch of us who were, um, islanded, and it doesn't seem to be something good."

Just in case that wasn't confusing enough, she went on, "But it's also possible that she took us over to make us think she'd taken you over. And Jenna battled her, or maybe just resisted her, on some level, anyway, which is why she's in the state she's in."

Flick was becoming more sober and more confused every second. "Look, Alex ... Jenna's changed, or her powers have changed her. She's a lot, lot stronger than she ever was when we knew her. Some of the others seem very different, too; dangerously different, in some cases. But right now is not the time to talk that over. Right now is the time for us to get the hell outta here before somebody else invades!"

Nonplussed, Flick began, "Well it was like this ... " -- she thought briefly -- "... no, it wasn't, actually," she concluded.

Alex sighed.

"You weren't here!" she said hotly. "It was just as bad as what went on at Maritzar, only worse, and what with Salazar still blowing things up and ... Okay." She took a deep breath. "You don't need to know all that. Try this: One: Sakura's back, and independent. Two: she took you over, we think. Three: she's overpowered Makie, possibly, though I'm not entirely sure. Four: something's going on with the bunch of us who were, um, islanded, and it doesn't seem to be something good."

Just in case that wasn't confusing enough, she went on, "But it's also possible that she took us over to make us think she'd taken you over. And Jenna battled her, or maybe just resisted her, on some level, anyway, which is why she's in the state she's in."

Flick was becoming more sober and more confused every second. "Look, Alex ... Jenna's changed, or her powers have changed her. She's a lot, lot stronger than she ever was when we knew her. Some of the others seem very different, too; dangerously different, in some cases. But right now is not the time to talk that over. Right now is the time for us to get the hell outta here before somebody else invades!"

OOC:...uhhh...who are you? Findhorn?
*Returns back to hw...* "busy busy busy...can't post now..."

OOC: Dammit. Caught red-handed. Didn't even notice that. Findhorn is my less-evil twin.

Alex's dithering was beginning to grate on Flick. Surely he could see Jenna was sick, or exhausted, or something. Even if he thought she was just drunk, so what? She plainly needed help. Help that Flick, even with her new power, couldn't give.

"Look, Alex, we can go into all this later," she urged. "Can't you see that we've got to get out of here? There are all sorts of lunatics running around here with all sorts of weapons. If Sakura decides to play any of her little games I'd rather not think what she could make them do."

Argument wasn't having any effect. Fllick suddenly recalled what used to work when her friend Esther's sister was little: do it, don't talk about it. She gave up totally on any idea of persuasion and simply hoisted Jenna upright as well as she could.

"Here, give me a hand," she panted. She'd managed to get one of Jenna's arms round her shoulders, but every time she moved Jenna slid sideways. Alex moved automatically to the other side so that Jenna was slung between them. Slowly the trio struggled to the door, where Flick puffed, "Which way to the ship, Alex?"

It didn't matter if he was operating on automatic pilot. He was taking them where they needed to go.

"Oh? Uhhhh...This way I think..." said Alex, as he kicked open the door with his foot. "Ah...Flick why don't I just carry Jenna...I think I can handle."

Flick nodded gratefully, and began to prop Jenna's body up so that Alex could get underneath and carry Jenna on his back. Securing Jenna's legs at his waist, Alex balanced her on his back so that they wouldn't fall.

"Man...She gained some weight..." laughed Alex under his voice. "Ok...Where were we..."

Alex looked around at their surroundings. A maze of tall green hedges surrounded the small rest house they had taken refuge in.

"I think we came from this direction...I think I see the towers of the mansion from here." Alex nodded towards two dark spires that could be seen in the distance. "My ship should be near the space port less than a mile from the mansion itself."

"Well, we're not going to cart her half a mile like this. Have you got any ground transport closer than that?" Flick queried. "There's some stables nearby, but I don't see us keeping her in the saddle in this state -- if we could even get her there."

Fortunately they were spared that decision because at that moment, there was a noise and a shadow...

"Uh... Alex?" Flick said nervously. "Is that yours?"

Before he could reply, the helicopter landed with a bump in the slightly less hedgey area near the house. The door slid open and a tall youth with dark hair emerged, swearing. He was shortly followed by a non-descript yet sinister blonde man, who was silent.

The boy looked around, saw them and started to walk in their direction. "Is that her, Eugene?" He called over his shoulder.

Eugene nodded curtly and followed him, motioning two men who were peering round the door of the chopper to come out. "She looks damaged. Kain will see to her."

By this time the boy was within arms reach of Alex, Flick and the unconscious Jenna. He looked at them suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"We were schoolmates," Flick said, a claim that obviously failed to impress the newcomers. All right, boyos, cop this:

"I am also a registered Bard. I have performed 12 approved Adjudications in the past year." Flick always felt a little taller and a little older when she announced her hard-won legal status. True, the Adjudications had been on dull-as-ditchwater little planets where the main qualification a Bard needed was proof that, unlike everyone else in the community, he or she was not related to both the plaintiff and the defendant. But there was no doubt she'd done 'em, and she'd earned her registration.

"Furthermore," she added hastily, as the younger man seemed inclined to shoulder her aside, "I am Artist At Large to the Shire of Baulkham Hills in the City of Sydney in the Republic of Australia on the Free Planet Earth." Flick gambled, as usual, on the hope that such an assemblage of titles might impress anyone who didn't know the Shire of Baulkham Hills, etc, etc. "Jenna -- my schoolfriend -- was consulting me in a professional capacity. I therefore seek the Bard's Right to accompany her until my obligation is discharged."

There was the unfortunate fact that she'd never actually told Jenna of her qualification. But Jenna would surely know -- she seemed to have built up some amazing resources since they'd all scattered after the Island -- and they'd certainly been "consulting" about Sakura. Flick stood on her dignity and waited to see if these people would accept her slightly shaky claims.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Bard? Remind me to look it up. Actually - Eugene, do that now."

Eugene nodded, turned his head towards his right shoulder and muttered something before reverting his attention to the three tired schoolmates. "Aren't you going to ask who we are? If you have legal capacity you should know what questions to ask when someone asks you to hand over personell."

"Are you kidding, Flick? Me own an obsolete piece of junk like that?" muttered Alex as he slowly lowered Jenna to a nearby park bench. Alex put his hands on his belt and stood up straight and authoritatively in front of the dark haired kid. "Ok kiddo...I'm only going to ask this once, and once only."

Alex looked down on the kid. Running his hand along the side of his belt, Alex felt his Connection Gear was still there clipped on the belt underneath his jacket. Dang it...I forgot I even had that. I should have used it earlier to contact the ship...Oh well, it can't be helped. Alex sighed as he pressed the center button to send out a location beacon to his ship. Now...Have to get rid of these guys...

Alex looked back down at the boy and smiled. "Ok...Would you and your friend please move out of the way. We're in hurry."

******

The bridge of the Kukai Foundation corvette was almost silent, except for the subtle hum and beeps of the various computers and machines inside the bridge itself and the muffled hum of the generator located elsewhere. When Master Alex wasn't around giving orders or having the corvette fly him somewhere, the ship was pretty quiet, but always at the ready. A third of the bridge crew was inactive, those who were in charge of flying the vessel in space and other functions that are not used while on the ground.

"Captain, Master Alex is calling out of assistance." said one of the men on the bridge.

"Yes...And..." said the Captain, turning to look at the communications officer, who looked back at the Captain with confusion.

"And...What is he asking for??? Come on, does he provide any details?" exclaimed the Captain. "Jeez...Follow it up...Don't just say he needs help, what help does he need?"

"The Captain's pissed. He got into an argument with his wife earlier." whispered the man seated next to the communications officer.

"Sir, it's only a transponder signal...No other data." said the officer. "I suggest we send out the fireteam to check up on Master Alex."

"I see..." muttered the Captain. "Send out the order to Alpha and Bravo. Extract Master Alex from the area. Get the ER on alert. Have the crew man battle stations. And prepare the ship for take off!"

"Sir, aren't you over doing it?" asked the officer.

"No." said the Captain, who sat back down in his chair.

"I told you...He's pissed..." whispered the man as he was setting the launch codes.

"Nobody's asking me to hand over personnel," snapped Flick. Goddamn military minds. "These aren't personnel. These are my friends. And I'm not 'handing them over'. I'm asking for help. Bard's call."

Calm down a bit, Flick, came a thread of thought. That's so weak, it could be Jenna or it could be my conscience, thought Flick, with a moment's humour; but she took the advice, anyway. These people obviously didn't know what she meant, so it was no use getting annoyed with them.

"As to bards, well, a Bard's just that: a bard, a singer, a storyteller, an entertainer," she explained. "But on some planets where the settlements are scattered and there's no real judicial authority, we give judgements. The idea is that we're not involved, so we're more likely to be fair. It goes right back to the times of the Druids," she continued, getting a bit too wrapped up in her subject, as she realised when she saw the newcomers shifting uneasily.

"Well, anyway, from our studies we're supposed to know loads of songs or stories. Which are actually a sort of history about how people acted. So we can advise about what happened before when people faced the same thing, and what seems best now. It's not law, as such, but we have to report our rulings, and the Bard's Council investigates, and if it seems an okay decision, it's called an Approved Adjudication. And I've done twelve."

The ship folk still didn't seem convinced. "Look, it's not something you run into on civilised worlds," she said. "It's a frontier thing. It's ad hoc. But it works. I wouldn't expect you to know about it, but out there ... well ... it's important. It keeps the peace," she finished. Lamely, she knew. It sounded as though she was saying she was important. She wasn't, but Bards were. She sighed.

"Whatever. Now you know who I am. So, since I'm finally getting around to the question, who are you?"

Damien smirked at Alex, then turned to Flick. "I'm Damien Merterre - Personal Aide to Resquides commander of all armed forces, here in his stead. Also my father is the Prime minister. This is... Eugene. He represents... well, technically he doesn't officially represent Resquide, because it noone officially admits the department he's in charge of exists. He's here in case this turns out to be a politically inconvenient problem. Those two guys back there are trained bodyguards with medical degrees. I'd say we have authority here. Oh," he added, turning back to Alex, "and since I'm twenty two - and you don't look older than seventeen - I'd suggest you don't call me kiddo. We're here to take Ms Pannove home. You two don't seem to be doing a good job of taking care of her so far."

He motioned to the bodyguards, who came forward with a stretcher and started lifting jenna onto it.

About time... Thought Alex, as he noticed several blurs move behind several of the men and around the area. This guy is pissing me off...

"Oh...I apologize..." said Alex, bowing his head slightly and apologetically(sp?). "You're pretty short for a twenty-two year old...And the greasy hair doesn't help you also..."

Alex turned his head to the left, noted the two body guards placing Jenna on the canvas stretcher. Quickly facing back to Damien, who still had that disgusting smug grin on his face. He looks as if he just ate something nasty still...How in the world can he keep that smirk on his face??

"Well...I wouldn't say you have authority at the moment..." nodded Alex.

The two bodyguards attending to Jenna had collapsed where they had been working. One of the guards let off a loud snore. The Eugene character had also began to sway where he stood. The drugs taking a slightly bit longer to kick in, finally overpowered the man and caused him to immediately doze off.

"No if you would please excuse us, Flick and I need to take Jenna to the proper medical authorities...Not some backwater hospital you might take her to." Alex turned to face the stretcher that now appeared to be floating in mid-air.

"Specter...What took you so long?" asked Alex.

The area began to distort itself several spots where Alex was facing toward. Several static comprised figures began to appear, and quickly cleared up to reveal the members of Alex's personal guard. They all wore black sneaking suits, complete with a balaclava, a small operations backpack that blended in with the suit, and portable beam rifles slung across their backs. They had only their minimum gear set since it was a local extraction job.

"It's amazing that these twenty-first century stealth-camo devices still work." said the man standing directly in front of Alex. "And those tranq. guns...Classics...I heard you had a knack for antiquities."

"Not exactly twenty-first century devices...Just very similar technology..." said Alex with a smile. "But you still didn't answer my question...What took so long?"

"Ah...Sorry, Master Alex..." said Specter as he put his hands together. "The captain's pissed...I mean, the Captain is angry because of an arguement with his wife. It took sometime to get the orders out."

"I see..." nodded Alex.

Damien grunted, trying to get Alex's attention back on him.

"Man...Forgot about Mr. Grumpy back there..." whispered Alex to Specter. "You brought a transport right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh...If you can, take Flick with you guys." whispered Alex as he motioned his head towards Flick. "And leave Bravo team in stealth near the area."

"Affirmative, sir." said Specter, as he signaled the rest of his fireteam to take Jenna and move to the extraction vehicle that was about to land in the nearby clearing.

The simple grey landing vehicle hovered precariously above the black helicopter Damien and his entourage arrived in, and landed with a thud next to it. The ship was very plain compared to the corvette, and had always irritated Alex everytime he looked at it. Man...I really need to get those engineers to give me another dropship...

"Ok...What was it you need?" asked Alex, as he turned around to face a now somewhat disgruntled looking Damien. "And Flick...If you want...You can go follow them to the transport. Just follow the guy over there, waiting for you by the corner of that hedge." Alex pointed behind him to one of the black dressed men, who stood with his rifle at the ready.

OOC: needed a stress reliever last night...just take it out on the thread...
OOC2: Use for Reference Only

BULLSHIT.

Noir, your post has more bunnies than AUSTRALIA. I demand a retraction. It's the rules of common RP courtesy that you decide what happens to your people. You can say your planes are arriving, and that when they do people get out and shoot AT my people, but ypou can't say what happens then. I, as the player in charge of the people being attacked, decide whether they dodged, got hit, or were already inside the helicopter by then. I also distinctly remember telling you over msn that Jenna is being taken to Resquide and I'm joining her with Damien for my next thing, so it's really very rude to just call game over on my people and move things back into your territory without so much as waiting for a reply. I realise it's annoying having to put short posts so as to wait for someones reply or at least consent, but if you want to do a long post and need to mention what happens to my characters, there is such thing as msn, email and the good old TG.

for further reference :P

OOC: WTH? I just knew I shouldn't have self-indulgently slept last night, but should instead have stayed up NSing. Now Noir's post has un-happened and I never even saw Resquide's (thus robbing Flick of chance to be snarky abt testosterone). Ah, well ...

"Taking care of Jenna is Jenna's job, not ours," Flick retorted. "It's just that right now she's not herself, and, because we're her friends, we're trying to help. That's how it works. If you're her friend, and you're really going to do something helpful too, that's great; let's go."

Now let's see what he does with that, Flick said to herself. If he accepted that she was coming on the ship with Jenna, well and good. If not ... well, she'd just have to find a way around it. There was no way she was going to leave Jenna totally in this guy's clutches. She didn't remember in detail, but she was sure Jenna had said something at school about her father being a political biggie in Resquide. Now this arrogant Damien bloke reckoned he was the son of the PM there. Flick didn't know how they played politics in Jenna's home world, but if the PM and Jenna's Dad were on opposite sides ... yeah. It might all be perfectly innocent. But if they were kidnapping Jenna, they were going to have to kidnap Flick, too.

"Alex, I know you'll be anxious about Jenna, so I'll give you a call as soon as I know what's happening," she said. "If you don't hear from me, follow it up, won't you? You know how bad communications can be, sometimes."

There, Damien Fullofyourself, just so you'll know that the combined resources of Alex's mob's super-company will have their eye on you, she thought with satisfaction.

And how the hell did a girl from Baulkham Hills get mixed up in the affairs of all these movers and shakers? she wondered. Ah, well, just gotta wing it, I guess.

ooc: It's only <white> so if you highlight it you can still read it. It is bitchy to the max :D

Damien glanced back at Eugene, who gave a tiny bored shrug. "Fine." Damien said. "Come along as her attorney or whatever. But we're leaving now." He turned and entered the helicopter in the wake of the men with the stretcher. Eugene waited to usher Flick in impassively.

OOC: let's see what i can do...

Alex's mouth stood gaping as he watched Damien and Eugene take Jenna into the waiting helicopter.

No. Wa...Wait...I'm not ready yet... Thought Alex as he stretched out his arm in an attempt to grasp Jenna and prevent her from leaving. His face was pale, as if all the life were suck out of him, out of shock. He had not expected this to happen. Nor did he expect to be parted from Jenna so soon. What is this? How...How's this happening?

"Ah...N...N...No..." stammered Alex under his breath. His legs automatically began to move forward toward the helicopter. Starting from a slow crawl, he began to gradually walk faster and faster until he caught up to Flick, who was walking slowly into the helicopter.

"J...J...Jenna..." said Alex, as he was about to pass Flick.

Sensing Alex's distress, Flick couldn't just stand around and do nothing. She quickly turned around towards Alex and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Hey...Look at me..." said Flick as she shook him. "Get a hold of yourself..."

"Make allowances, he's in lerv," Flick warned herself. Aloud, she muttered so the newcomers wouldn't overhear, "C'mon, Alex, get it together. You've got transport, haven't you? Then follow us. If they take us to a spacecraft, get a trace on the warp emissions or the wake or the quantum displacement or whatever it is when we leave. Or chuck around a few bribes till you find out their flight plan. Or plant a tracer before we leave -- but not on me or Jenna, they might search us. Or if none of that's possible, come with us! Tell 'em you've got some kind of 'orders'. Just stop dithering, dammit!"

Without waiting to see the effect of her words, she settled the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and sprinted towards the copter, where Jenna's stretcher was being strapped in.

OOC: short post

Alex stood in front of Flick, slowly taking in what she had just said.

Tracking the ship? Giving bribes? Go with them?

Alex nodded. "Flick...Take this." He clipped his Connection Gear (CG) from his belt and handed it to Flick. "Simply press the 'on' button to start the hologram, then place your hand on the designated box to start up the program and enter the main options screen. All the features will be change to suit the current user, you, after the hand scan."

Right before Flick took it from his hand, he quickly took it back and changed some settings.

"Sorry...Here, i've set it up so that you can use it as a vid-phone. I turned off the other functions to make it easier to use. If you want, you can access the tutorial on the main screen." Alex placed it in Flick's hand. "Don't worry about them finding it. I changed the security options so that only you can access it. And it doesn't need charging...You can also use it as a taser, but first read the tutorial."

"Master Alex, we're here to take you back to the ship." said a voice, as a hand fell on his shoulder. Alex turned around to see that his Fireteam. The transport was hovering in a small clearing several yards back.

"About time..." muttered Alex. "Flick, remember, keep in touch. I'll be monitoring where they'll be going."


OOC2: yea, maggie, i was asleep

"Strap yourself in!" Damien shouted above the noise of the blades, hanging onto some weird black rope-like things on the cieling. Flick just had time to work out which belts went where before the chopper took off. Eugene was already strapped in and was watching everyone calmly. The two medic/bodyguards had strapped Jenna's stretcher into a bay apparantly designed for that purpose, and Damien, after checking everyone was done, swung over to the pilot and gave him the thumbs up, whereupon the speed immediately picked up.

As the turbulence evened out and the pilot set a course for Resquide, Damien walked back over to Flick, sat beside her and fastened his seatbelt. "You can take off most of those belts now - just leave one on just in case. This isn't exactly a parachuting-behind-enemy-lines kind of helicopter - it's custom built for Eugenes purposes." He motioned to the stretcher bay. "I just borrow it now and then. So - you're going to resquide. How do you feel? Is there anyone you need to contact? I assume you're aware that censorship will be taking place."

"I feel fine, thanks," said Flick, who didn't. Helicopters always reminded her of the useless way her Dad died, filming footage for a stupid TV traffic report. If her pride had allowed her she'd have spent the entire flight curled into a little ball.

Still, the Damien guy was obviously making an effort to be kind, so she'd better make an effort in return. If anything would take her mind off the situation she was in, it was certainly the comment he'd just made.

"I'll need to contact the Council," she said, "or the nearest Harper, so they can pass the message. Just to let them know what world I'm on. And I promised Alex I'd let him know how Jenna's doing; he'll go off his head if he doesn't find out, and I don't want to get his family corporation chasing after me." (Nice going, Flick; lay it on any thicker and you could grow veges in it.)

"Otherwise I'm a free agent," she continued. "But what's this about censorship? If you just mean that you want to read my outgoing off-world messages, I'm fine with that, if you've got some sort of military thing going on. But are you wanting to censor my songs? My repertoire?"

She waited anxiously for his answer. If this world censored the arts, she was going to have to find out which arts, on what grounds, how often, who did it, the whole shebang; and once she'd finished her assessment, she'd have to go back to the Council and report formally, so they could decide whether Harpers should be warned to shun the planet. She hoped it wasn't that; she had a new duty to her craft, but she had an old duty to Jenna. She couldn't leave her friend alone till she knew she'd be safe.

On the other hand, if it was just the usual uniformed paranoia she didn't mind in the least. She'd been quite open about the need to keep Alex updated, and if they didn't let her, he'd soon be chasing after them anyway.

Flick smiled to herself at the picture of an infuriated Alex sticking his nose into whatever was going on. Probably the exact opposite of what they'd want. No, it would surely be better to let her send off a reassuring message on this nice little toy he'd given her.

So why did she suddenly feel that more than she knew was riding on Damien's answer?

Damien sniggered. "Songs? Why would we do that? No, all i mean to say is... well, unless we give you an amnesia drug and drop you off at the nearest airport, there are certain things you won't be able to say in any messages. Like who you're with and where we are, and pretty much anything you see or hear... we wouldn't want you to just disappear off the face of the earth, people would worry, but all communications must be supervised." He paused as the chopper hit some turbulence and momentarily became louder. "Actually, I'll need to see your songs too - I don't think an artist would ruin a song by coding messages into it, but you never knw these days."

Relieved, Flick grinned. "What I'm planning to tell Alex is how Jenna is," she reassured Damien. "That's all he's interested in." Unless I have to tell him you're holding her prisoner, she added silently. In which case, how the hell do I get the location through to him? Well, we'll cross that bridge ...

"If you want to hear my songs, we'd better wait till we can hear ourselves think," she said above the helicopter noise. "You're just planning to see if they're some sort of code, right? Not just ban them out of hand?"

Before he could say yea or nay, a thought struck her. "Actually, if you've got some sort of automatic machine -- you know, something that shows suspicious repeats and so on -- that could be very interesting," she said. "A lot of the really old songs are code, in a way; like Four Green Fields, which isn't about a widow-woman at all, or Me Darlin' Drake, they're both about the English in Ireland ..."

As often happened when Flick rode one of her hobby-horses, her audience's eyes began to glaze over. Good. The less interesting he finds me, the better.

Damien shrugged and tuned out for the rest fo the voyage. They touched down on a helipad and Jenna was immediately stretchered off, before Flick could even undo the myriad of straps she'd been required to put on during touch-down. Damien condescendingly explained that it was safety procedure - the bureaucracy required it, really. She noticed he didn't have nearly as many on himself, and Eugene looked like he was in someones dining room. But then he always seemed to look like that.

By the time she was led out of the chopper, Jenna was nowhere in sight. "We'll let you communicate with that guy when the medresults come back," Damien said. Meanwhile, would you like a drink or something?"

OOC: I'll post something...just wait...

"I'd like to go to the hospital, or wherever you've taken Jenna," Flick said stubbornly. "There'll be a canteen or something there, surely?"

Too late it occurred to her that Damien might have been trying to be polite. He might even have been suggesting a bar. But, on balance, no, she decided.

Besides, that Eugene character was still around, and he was seriously creepy. In fact, she'd even prefer sitting around in a hospital waiting-room to having to spend much more time in his presence.

Anyway, there wasn't much she could do until Jenna could tell her what the story was. She still didn't know whether these guys were Jenna's friends or her enemies. The closer she could stay to Jenna, the sooner she'd be able to ...

Do what? Shoot through like a Bondi tram, supplied her brain, which was very big on self-preservation. But her conscience, unfortunately, wasn't.

Alex starred silently at the myriad of stars that passed swiftly across his cabin window. He sighed every once in a while, trying to figure out what had happened in the past few hours. First he was at some party. Then he met up with Jenna and Flick. Then Sakura "happened." And finally some strange guy takes Jenna. What in the world was going on, thought Alex as he moved up to the window and placed his hand on the thick composite material that protected him from the vaccum of space.

Alex's cabin on the Corvette was the converted war room and the officer's lounge. Sparsely furnished because of the rush job the Engineering Department was faced with. Engineering were told to convert a new military Corvette Light Attack Vessel into a luxurious corporate transport in two weeks, prior to Master Alex's departure. Engineering had completely stripped the small 200 meter vessel, while leaving the essential flight electronics, the armor plating, and defensive weaponry. A second Logic Drive was added to the powerful Vector Logic Drive, doubling the power output and speed of the vessel when used in tandem. The addition of the extra Logic Drive meant that an extra transfer type generator had to be installed in order to supply the second power hungry propulsion system. The generators and Logic Drives had taken up what was left of the ammunition room. The entire ship was fully automated, and with the reduction of the main guns, thus required only a minimum crew of about 20. Because of the specially purpose of this vessel, the crew had included a portion of Master Alex's entourage and a personal fireteam that his parents had ordered him to bring along for emergencies. The crew now numbered near 50 people, including the personnel of the fireteam. The accommodations for the crew onboard the vessel was comparable to a current luxury cruiseliner. The mess hall was fully stocked for any occasion that could be called for at a moment's notice.

Alex sighed again. 'Maybe I should call Flick...To check out what was going on with Jenna,' thought Alex.

Alex walked slowly to his desk at the other end of the room, sat in his chair and activated his computer. "Hmmm...Ok..."

OOC: don't feel like writing at the moment...

Damien shrugged. "Suit yourself. The preliminary report was major shock and fatigue, though. She isn't going to be awake until at least tomorrow night. All you can send your friend tonight is the final injuries report, which should take an hour or two. And this is a private semi-military hospital too, she'd be awake and complaining about the food before the paperwork was sorted out in a regular Resquide hospital. Damn bureaucrats."

OOC: i'll try posting something later... :-P

"Okay. So this is all right, then?" While Damien had been talking, Flick had been texting on the gadget Alex had given her.

JENNA: SHOCK, FATIGUE, NOT CONSCIOUS, MORE LATER, it read. Flick had mastered punctuation, but not lower-case.

She waved the device under Damien's nose so he could read the screen, her thumb paused over SEND.

"And even if she's not supposed to wake up until tomorrow, I still want to go to the hospital," she insisted. "You never know, she might just feel better if she knows I'm there."

Gods, don't they teach these guys to read? How long is it going to take him to approve a one-line message? Her thumb was beginning to ache from being held so awkwardly.

Damien shrugged. "Fair enough. Yes, that's fine. Come along, I'll see about getting you a stretcher bed or something if you want to stay in the hotel room. We've got the standard hospital chairs and they're not all that comfortable."

^~^~^
The Next Morning
^~^~^

Everything is grey. She told me I'm still alive... why is everything grey? Whereareyoumyheadowwhathappenedmother!

Jenna mumbled something incomprehensible and opened her eyes. "Ow!" She exclaimed, covering them with one arm. "Light!" As consciousness flooded back in, she cautiously tested out her powers. She was alone... wait. She was... completely... alone. She sat up in terror, wideeyed and hyperventilating. Somewhere a machine went beep, and then gloved hands were pressing down her shoulders and a meaningless voice was persuading her to lie down, she'd had a nasty shock, but there was nobody there! Slowly her rational thought clicked into place. There was a nurse. She existed. She did not exist. She was visible and audible but... not... there. How was this possible? Jenna took a deep breath and tried to sue her eyes. She was in a room. It was white. There was a nursenothereisn'tshe'snottherenono There WAS a nurse. There was machinery around her bed. There was a still form on the floor beside the bed, covered with a blanket. Jenna blinked. There was nobody under the blanket. There was a body under the blanket. The blanket was occupied but there was nobody in it. She slid out of bed, ignoring the protests of the nurse, who after all might not exist, and turned over the sleeping body, and touched the face, and someone was there...

Flick. Flick!

"Mrrphhh ... huh?"

Flick sat up on the lumpy mattress and struggled to focus.

"Jenna! You're back!" Relieved, she flung her arms round her friend; then sat back, embarrassed by her own emotion. At least the feeling dragged her fully awake. She remembered why she had been so insistent on sleeping beside the bed.

"Hey, listen, before anyone finds out you're conscious: is that Damien guy safe? I mean, is he on your side? Or is he one of your father's enemies?"

Jenna seemed taken aback; oh, of course, she was worried they'd be overheard. Flick felt she was getting quite good at this secret stuff.

"If you'd rather not say it aloud, remember I'm not much of a talker but I'm quite a good listener." The sentence dripped with so much significance she might just as well have added "nudge nudge, wink wink".

But Jenna didn't seem to be responding, There was none of that "brain-tickle" that Flick associated with mental messages. She prodded a little:

"You remember who I'm talking about? Damien ... Merterre, was it? Your Prime Minister's son? And some political fixer called Eugene? The helicopter? Remember how they got up Alex's nose? C'mon, Jen, he's worried about you, and so am I."

Not to mention that I'm worried about me. I think I'm mixed up in something ... again.

Jenna had an oddly blank expression on her face. She didn't look like she was listening... mainly because she wasn't - not with her ears, that is. After an awkward moment of silence, Jenna appeared to remember that there was a world outside the mental. Her lower lip twitched. She poked flick in the arm. "That's odd." She mumbled. "Now you're here, now you're not, now you're here... now you're not."

She realised Flick was looking at her strangely. "Sorry. I'm feeling a little light-headed." Jenna finally acquiesced to the wishes of the nurse and got back into bed. "I... can't feel anything. Anyone. Unless I'm touching you, you don't exist. I think... okay, just a minute." She was half talking to herself now, her eyes rolling shut. "I lived without this until a few years ago... I can live without this now. I just... have to concentrate on the physical world. The way I did before. The way... they way my DAD taught me to look at the world. Everything is significant. Pay attention. Logic. Ah." She sat up straight, opening her eyes and seeming to look around the room for the first time. "Where am I?"

ooc: It's okay for you to post in Clean Sweep as Findhorn if your cookies are screwing up - not having an update is worse than any confusion that might cause.

((OOC: I promise that i'll post something tomorrow morning atleast :P))

Alex woke up with a jolt when his computer started to beep.

"What the hell?" muttered Alex as he rubbed his eyes, a little window flashed on and off on his screen. "Hmmm...Shoot...I fell asleep...Ugh." Alex clicked on the window and up popped a text message from Flick.

"I see...I might as well call now..." said Alex as he openned up his address book to search for the number of the Connection Gear he gave Flick.

((OOC2: horrible post...I just have too much studying to do...))

OOC: Ha, ha, cookies crumble my way tonight.

IC: Aghast, Flick listened as Jenna worked her way to an unbearable conclusion. If she was understanding her friend properly, Jenna's desperate efforts had made her headblind!

Gods, what a loss! Flick was almost thankful her psychic powers were so uneven. Normal human beings went through their lives unable to speak mind-to-mind; they worked out other ways to communicate because they had to. But to have known that intimacy and then to have it just ... torn off ... it was worse than any amputation Flick could think of.

"Jenna, look at me," she said quietly. She touched Jenna's hand and saw the puzzled eyes turn to her, recognising her existence, if not her identity. "Try to remember how it's done, petal. You used to do it once. You use your eyes to see if it's real. You use your ears to hear it. You can smell things and taste them -- though that's not a good idea with human beings," she added hastily, realising just how much trouble she could cause. "You don't have to touch to know something's here," she coaxed. "Look at my hand, Jenna. Watch my hand. Tell me where my hand has gone."

She pulled her sleeve down to cover the hand. "Point to it, Jenna. Use your hand to point."

I'll be lucky if she doesn't use her hand to punch. But, to her delight, Jenna pointed.

"See? Eyes tell you things. You're remembering!"

It seemed cruel to press Jenna when she was still trying to cope with such an unimaginable loss. But Flick had to know before she made some irreversible blunder (if she hadn't already).

"Jenna, Damien. You can't see him, but he brought you here. He's not in the room, but he might be listening. I have to know about him."

Taking Jenna's hands, she tucked them both warmly under the blanket, then slid her own under to hold them. Slowly she pressed her index finger against the back of Jenna's right hand. Seven presses. Fifteen. Fifteen. Four. She did the same with Jenna's left hand: two, one, four.

Then, insanely, she began to sing the alphabet song.

Giggling, Jenna began to sing along. "Oh, Flick, you're nuts."

Under the bedclothes, her finger pressed back on Flick's hand, repeating one simple pattern. Silently, carefully, Flick counted along, decoding the message.

"Ahh...Here it is." said Alex to himself as he found the number. "Ok...Now I just..."

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"Yes, what is it?" muttered Alex, frustrated about the interruption.

"Master Alex, in 20 minutes we will begin our reentry in Second Miltia."

"I see...Thank you."

Alex sighed as he selected the number, which then brought up the video-phone settings up on the monitor. The whole room dimmed as projectors located in various corners of the room switched on and focused their beams of light on a glowing white stand on the edge of Alex's desk.

"Hey Flick, it's me Alex." said Alex. "I see that you have some of the basics down with that little toy I gave you."

Alex laughed, but his expression changed to complete seriousness and worry. "Flick, how is Jenna doing?"

((assumptions piss me off sooooo much. Argh fine I'll go along with it.))

Jenna took a deep breath. Right. Flick was right. Physical things. Physical. She concentrated on Flick's face. This was Flick. Just because she couldn't feel her without touching her did not mean she couldn't exist. Remember. Remember when you were... fourteen. Remember when you were ten. Remember when you were seven. Remember dad teaching you to look at the world. Notice things. He didn't know about your ability... or did he? Did he teach you because he knew the day would come when something like this would happen? You never stopped noticing things with your eyes just because you were psychic. Just people. Look at the bed. Touch the blanket. This exists - it has no mental touch, but it is still here. Now extend that to people. Yes, it's all coming back... why was Flick singing the alphabet song?

Oh, it was a cover for something. Ah... code. Why did she need code? Damien... Jenna blinked. him?! She tapped out the code for "no danger" and "let me handle this" and turned to the nurse, who had just returned with a thermometer (and was a little pissed off at having been ignored) when there was a beeping noise from Flick's pocket.

Concentrating hard, Flick slowly worked out Jenna's far more complex code. So Damien wasn't a threat. Well, not a threat to Jenna, anyway. Fine. Let me handle this. As if I had a choice. I haven't a clue what's going on here. Except that I'm stuck somewhere I don't know with a pair of overbearing military types and the only person who can help is just barely able to sit up in her hospital bed and suffering from who-knows-what ...

The 'Alex-device' beeped and Flick moaned softly. Like I needed any more complications.

" ... Flick, how is Jenna doing?"

"Um, er, as far as I can tell, Alex, she's doing fine. A wee bit confused, but then, she's just come round."

For a minute, Flick contemplated just turning the gadget around so Alex could see for himself. But Jenna wasn't a reassuring sight; she looked totally exhausted, and hospital lighting didn't do anything for anyone's looks. Besides, the nurse was looking daggers at Flick.

"Ah, look, Alex, this isn't the best time. How about I call you back when things are clearer?"

Flick didn't wait for a reply. She closed the link and shut the dooverlacky off for good measure. She probably shouldn't have had it on in the first place; there were always signs in hospitals about electronic devices. If the damn thing was electronic, and not running on some weird-science principle that the big corporations had developed. Anyway, it was off.

It felt like cutting a safety rope.

((OOC: ugh...sorry guys...don't expect a post until after AP season...and also probably after my SAT II's...so...ETP (estimated-time-of-post) around, say after next weekend...))

More Info on my Predicament:

AP Central (http://apcentral.collegeboard.com/)

AP English Language - May 2, 2005

AP United States History - May 6, 2005

AP Art - Portfolio of 21~ art pieces due May 6, 2005

CollegeBoard - SAT I's & SAT II's (http://www.collegeboard.com/student/testing/sat/about.html)

Both on May 7, 2005.

SAT II - United States History (http://www.collegeboard.com/student/testing/sat/lc_two/histus/histus.html?histus)

SAT II - English Literature (http://www.collegeboard.com/student/testing/sat/lc_two/lit/lit.html?lit)

((OOC2: Oh...And I forgot to mention that I have my AP US final during the same week...And a Chemistry Lab to finish by Tuesday...The pain...))

((Noir - it's okay. You're not a major part of the action. We won't be going OMGWHEREISNOIRARGHWECANNOTGOONDIE.))

Jenna blinks. "Oh, we're in touch with alex. So... he's not here? I don't remember anything after... er... I remember Sakura... I think she's gone now though. And there was quite a lot of brandy. Argh."

That was when the nurse walked back in, followed by Damien, Eugene and a man in a white coat who immediately picked up the clipboard at the end of her bed and began perusing it.

"Curious," he said to Damien. "There are marks of mental trauma, but all her facilities seem fairly normal. If it damaged anything, it was something that shouldn't have been there anyway."

Damien nodded thoughtfully. "But she's otherwise healthy?"

"Oh, yes, she's free to go now, although we'd prefer it if we could keep her in here for observation. She might be a bit shaky on her legs for a bit, too."

"Right, well, come on then," Damien adressed Jenna. "We'll find you some clothes. You too," he gestured to Flick who looked at Jenna questioningly, but the latter was already out of bed and followin Damien in her bare feet.

Thinking this was rather odd, Flick went after them. The two appeared to be walking side by side, Jenna matching his pace without a hitch.

"So, I assume I've been rescued."

"You assume right. Going off to parties and getting drunk, now? Doesn't seem like you."

"And how would you know what I seem like?"

"We've done a thorough search on you. You've been showing up in the oddest places, and disappearing in strange ways. You're an anomaly."

"And anomalies need to be eliminated? Or just controlled? For the good of the new World Order, of course. What are you planning to replace the System with?"

Damien suddenly stopped short and turned to her, smiling. "So you have been spying on us."

She crossed her arms. "Do you intend to have me executed?"

"I intend to ask you to join us."

At this she looked surprised for the first time in the conversation. "What? My father is the Secretary General!"

"And mine is the Prime Minister. Obviously we don't intend for anyone to actually get hurt."

Jenna just stood there, gaping at him. Flick, who had stopped behind a cart full of medicine, frowned in confusion. What were they talking about? So did Jenna know this guy or not? Suddenyl she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around to see Eugene, who nodded at her calmly. "This is the part where you get told to leave before you find out too much to leave, ever again." He said conversationally.

:confused: :confused: :confused: :confused: :confused:

:confused: :confused: :confused: :confused: :confused:

Eheh... I'm being cryptic on *purpose* ;) just to clarify :P

"Dang it! That Flick...Argh." Alex ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He pounded his fist into the arm of his chair. "What the hell is going!?! I just know SOMETHING is going on!"

There was a chime coming from the door of Alex's room.

"Excuse me, Master Alex." said the voice coming from the Alex's intercom.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Master Alex, we're about to make our descent into Second Miltia. And we've got a message from headquarters saying that you must report to the R&D Division Lab at once."

"Sure, sure..." repeated Alex monotonously, as he shifted himself in his seat. He stood up and walked over to his closet. "Hmmm...I better change clothes before we land." Alex pressed the touchscreen console at the side of the closet opening, cycling through the contents of the closet that hung on the track running along the ceiling.

"Might as well wear some pants since I'm going into the office...*sigh*"

------

The sleek Corvette sliced through the upper atmosphere of the newly terraformed planet.

"Turn main thrusters off and switch on intraplanetary engines on standby." said the captain, who had taken off his hat and wiped the layer of sweat off with the sleave of his arm. The bridge was buzzing with the sound of the crew working at the various workstations, all making sure that nothing wrong occured during the decent.

Suddenly, the large vessel exited the atmosphere with a jolt, exiting into the lower atmosphere where it glided toward the spaceport.

Seriously annoyed, Flick shook off the intrusive hand.

"And this is the part where I say,'Don't tell me what to do!', or something equally adolescent. Look, can we stop all the spy movie stuff and talk?"

She eyed the man's face, but couldn't tell a thing from his expression.

"Okay, this is what I'm up to," she said. "Jenna's a friend of mine. I don't have all that many, so I look after the ones I have. She was sick and I wanted her treated. You've done that. She seems to be about to get into something political. It might be dangerous, but that's her choice. She's always been more political than me."

Flick checked out the pair ahead: talking, happily enough, it seemed.

"If she thinks I can help her, I'm staying. If not, she won't beat around the bush, she'll tell me straight out. Either way, I don't think you can leave me here; I get the feeling this is not a place you want too many visitors to see, and my colleagues would be bound to come looking for me if I went missing. So how's about I hitch a ride with you all to your next port of call? Then, if it's fine with Jenna, I take off into the sunset and only come back if she wants a song about her."

Fixing Brilliant Smile No 1 on her face, Flick did her best to look sincere. She meant what she said, it really was up to Jenna. Provided it was Jenna, not some Sakura trickery. Though Jen was probably too weak right now to be attractive to Sakura.

Her mind nibbling away at the various complications that one could cause, Flick quite forgot that she was trying to do a deal.

Eugene sighed. "Young lady, you don't appear to be listening to me. Right now - you don't know anything specific. If you leave - nobody gets hurt. If you stay - you find out things we're not willing to let out on the streets. I'm sorry, but trust is a dirty word in situations like this. If you're staying now - you're staying until everything's over. You find things out and THEN you try to leave - life won't be on your immediate agenda."

God, the military mind. Straight lines. Either-or. Now or never. Spending time with this one would be so bad, it would have to be good for her: a forbearance workout, Pilates for the psyche: get that patience muscle workin', girl!

Sternly suppressing the image of herself as an angel on an exer-cycle, Flick worked it out aloud.

"So whatever I might learn between here and our next port of call -- learn while I'm doped to the eyeballs with anti-nausea pills, or strapped up in all those unnecessary harnesses, or possibly confined to my cabin if the trip's that long -- would be so potentially incriminating I'd be forced to trail along in the comet's tail until all this, whatever it is, is over. Wow. How could I resist; I'm in!"

She noted that Eugene did not seem moved to wild expressions of pleasure at her decision. Dear, dear. She wondered if the next bit would annoy him, too.

"But I'm a non-combatant. Think of me as one of those old 'embedded reporters', if it helps. I'm not pro-your party, whatever it is. I'm pro-Jenna and I'm pro-keeping live things alive. Me included, if possible. Okay?"

<snip>
"But I'm a non-combatant. Think of me as one of those old 'embedded reporters', if it helps. I'm not pro-your party, whatever it is. I'm pro-Jenna and I'm pro-keeping live things alive. Me included, if possible. Okay?"


Eugene shrugged. "Alright then. Jenna will feel better if you stay anyway, but she doesn't need a bodyguard. We have plenty of those. And you handled the helicopter trip pretty well, so I doubt you'll have any problems with ground vehicles. I'll need your word as a Harper that nothing you experience will reach the outside world until we release you from the agreement - I'm sure you woouldn't break that - and you'll have to turn over that device after you inform that Alex boy that Jenna is alright - that or disable it. We'll see about providing you with weapons or communications when we're *absolutely* sure we can trust you."

He waited for a reply. Behind them, Jenna had regained her composure.

"This is... serious, isn't it? Why me?"

Damien smiled. "You seem to have the... necesary experience. Lets just say we'd rather have you on our side than against us. We'll introduce you to the other players when we get there, but you'd probably better get changed before we leave."

She glanced down and realised she was still wearing the hospital nightgown. Blushing, she went through the door he showed her to get her clothes.

"Oh, dear, did I forget to say non-combatant?" said Flick, knowing she hadn't and smiling sweetly at Eugene. "It won't do any good to provide me with weapons. I'm sworn not to use them. Harpers are forbidden to take life."

She let that one sink in for a few seconds, knowing how any strategist would hate to have an extra useless body to protect, and then released the hook.

"In any sort of battle, I wear the red cross," she said. "I can do battlefield healing. I also wear as much armour as I can carry and I'll accept any training you want about camouflage and keeping out of the way, although I'm already quite good at it."

No need to explain what battlefield I learnt it on, she thought. No need to explain exactly how I do the healing, either. Jenna can clue him in on that whenever she thinks it's a good idea. Although I'd like to be a fly on the wall when she tries to explain it in terms he's likely to credit.

Eugene nodded. "Thank you for mentioning that. If you'd like to come this way, pleas?" He gestures after Damien and Jenna.

The door they went through turns out to lead to several corridors, but Eugene threads his way through them like he knows what he's doing, so there seems to be nothing to do but follow.

Which is what Flick does; noting the sureness, the unmoved politeness, the lack of any detail or feature to which a reasonable person could object -- and suppressing a terrible urge to rush up behind and give this iceberg a good, swift kick.

Stop laughing, this is serious, she scolded herself. She had to concentrate of how she'd word her message to Alex. Mustn't leave anything unclear, or he'll think he has to come after us; can't tell him too much, or he'll want to come after us; don't know enough to tell him anything.

They entered a small room - Jenna was sitting at the opposite side of a desk to Damien, stabbing her finger at some papers and finishing whatever she has been saying with "Stubborn muleheaded boy! What about the foreign ambassadors, you moron?"

Eugene smiled slightly and nodded to Flick. Since you've agreed to join us, you may as well hear the full story from someone you trust. Jenna?" He turned towards her. "You have been brought up to date?"

"Mostly." She glared at Damien. "You people aren't planning a very careful revolution, are you?"