trans_9 | Tying Up Loose Ends [Open]

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Tying Up Loose Ends [Open]

Stacy's drives made managed to come back online, and they had been on the move again. Though, on their journey to whatever destination they were going to next, the ship came to a halt at what would be a very brief pit stop...

...at the edge of a supermassive black hole.

In Stacy's hangar, Leon was finishing up programming the autopilot of a shuttlecraft to fly dead center into that black hole. No, he wasn't the least bit suicidal, and he wasn't staying for the flight. But the shuttle's cargo, the stone that held the Nightmare King, that was something Leon never wanted to see again.

He wanted to toss the Yeerk on there as well, but he agreed to uphold a jury decision. Thus, that thing still remained in indefinite stasis. (And, yes, he had checked personally to make sure it was still there)

The shuttle was easy to program, as it responded to verbal commands. The whole thing only took a few moments before Leon left the shuttle, and it departed, taking the Nightmare King to a prison that no living thing would ever be able to free it from.

As he watched the shuttle sped into the Event Horizon, Leon started going over his To Do list mentally. He had reports to write, and dozens more to read, he had to find out from Gauron which areas of the city were too damaged for occupancy and needed to blocked off so they could be demolished, arrange for Aang and Haku to be evaluated for release, keep the crew from killing each other, and about a thousand other things.

But as the shuttle got swallowed up by the darkness, he let out a breath and relaxed a bit.

"At least there's one less thing to worry about." Maybe he could finally take a break before tackling the rest of that list. Lord knows he needed one.

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"And that's something we can all be thankful for." a voice called out.

Approaching Leon was one of the new arrivals, namely Superman. He'd yet find any normal clothes for purposes of being mild-mannered Clark Kent, so he kept to his costume. Another noticeable thing he had was the long hair. While he was able to shave, he'd yet to find someway to cut his hair. He'd have to rectify that quickly.

"Hopefully, it'll never be a problem again. For us or anyone else." He extended his hand to Leon. "I'm Superman. I take it you're part of the main crew?"

You'd think after all that he had seen on this ship, this wouldn't phase him. But someone having the gall to call themselves 'Superman', while running around with their underwear on the wrong side of their tights was just...

Sorry, Clark, but Leon will never get you superheroes, so he will simply stare blankly at you for a moment.

Fortunately, that moment lasted only a half of a second or so, before his professionalism overrode his wtf'ery. So he at least did shake the man's hand.

"Yeah, I'm Special Agent Leon S. Kennedy, Chief of Security on board the ship."

Don't worry. After all this time, he's used to it.

"Nice to meet you, Chief." Superman said. "I have to admit, what we went through was tough, but I'm glad its over." Letting out a small sigh, he continued. "I must apologize, though, for adding fuel to that fire that started afterward. Just watching everything fall apart like that got to me, especially after being out of it for so long."

Goliath watches the launch in fascination. He spent the last hour reading up on black holes after hearing the Nightmare King's projected fate, and has learned enough to know that the novelty (and the danger) of flying even this near to one is a rare and precarious thing indeed.

To fall through nothingness for eternity, pulled apart by the gravity of falling - in a pit where even light cannot escape, does a soul - should the Nightmare King have one - have a hope of ever knowing anything else?

And what need is there for a Nightmare King, when the multiverse itself has such things in store for them? Or was the Nightmare King himself the black hole's creator?

In any case - "It is a fitting end for him. Poetic in its horror."

"Infinity minus one," interjects a low, cynical voice. Where has he been standing? Why, in the shadows, of course.

Leon smirked a bit to himself. "There is a certain poetic justice in this," he agreed, "and no less than what he deserved." At least, so Leon figured.

"Goliath," he greeted, turning to face the gargoyle. "You said you wanted to talk about something?"

Leon shrugged off the apology, as it seemed mostly par for the course around here. Superheroes were useful during a pinch, but the times in between they were well meaning, but more often than not got underfoot rather than be helpful.

"You don't owe me an apology," he responded. Not that Superman's speech had made his job any easier. "Though, in the future, if I might suggest, if you ever have to begin a sentence with 'I don't know all the facts,' you should probably end it there too."

"For now. The time may come that we encounter another aspect of the same being." Of course Roxie came to watch—in a sense. Her voice is recognizable, but she's wrapped up in red cloth from head to toe, and a red cloak pulled around that... no plantsuit today. The way she turns to look at Leon, without her eyes even being visible, is rather uncanny.

Leon looked over towards the shadows, then shook his head a little.

"And good riddance to it."

"He's still gone for now. That's the important part." Which meant Leon could cross his name off the list in the short term, anyway.

"What's with the outfit?"

"Assuming it's as simple as putting the cork back in," Bruce muses, folding his arms, "I have something to run by you."

"I haven't yet sufficiently recovered to be comfortable going about in public." Roxie probably couldn't come up with a more enigmatic answer if she tried.

That got an eyebrow raise, as Batman seemed to make it a point to insist that he didn't need to run anything by anyone.

"I'm listening."

"So either you decided to cover yourself by dressing as little red ridinghood, or..." he used a finger to slightly lift the edge of her hood up, "...or you're not actually in there."

Edited 2010-03-19 02:18 (UTC)

He would swear the only reason he's doing it this way is that his way would likely turn out to be the more time consuming.

"When the captain appointed me as metahuman liason, his standing orders were to make our powered or otherwise enhanced population into productive members of this crew," a hand disappears into his utility belt and returns with a datapad. It's lists mainly-- prospective staff, prospective duties, prospective resources, "With their hands tied, they only get frustrated, so this is the logical conclusion. This ship still has holes in it and we have people who can operate in a vacuum unassisted. We have people who can lift heavy cargo with their minds, people who can read and process data at supersonic speeds, people who can turn oxygen molecules into carbon dioxide when a deck goes up in flames... each of them is uniquely qualified to perform a task aboard this ship, not to mention the off-ship objectives we're bound to encounter in the future. In my world, they call it a superteam."

Not that Leon would be expecting humour, but that last statement was totally devoid of it.

"I know you're uncomfortable with the cultural differences between your world and mine. That's why I brought it to you first. I'm here to assure you that I'm not going to turn them into vigilantes. But I can give them direction, training and guidance in the hands of people who have been using their abilities constructively for years. I can prepare them for the unforeseeable. I've been doing it for fifteen years."

And if the ruckus caused by the thing Leon just dumped into a gravity well was anything to go by, they really could use a little more preparation.

Edited 2010-03-19 02:31 (UTC)

"Suggestion noted." Superman said, a small smirk on his face. "Though, I do still stand by what I said earlier - that we do need to start working together somehow. And that means everyone - man, woman and child. The Daligig gathered us for a reason and I doubt it was for fighting amongst ourselves."

The outline of the head is clear, under the hood, but there's not so much as an inch of skin showing through all the red cloth.

"That is not an entirely accurate statement, though it approaches the crux of the matter."

The Sangheili stood silent in the background as he like others watched the Nightmare King being sent to it's doom. Knowing well the dangers that black hole's posed. After all the havoc the Nightmare King had reaped throughout the ship, the nightmares he had inflicted on all, 'Vadum thought it a fitting end for such a being.

"And many more threats to come, no doubt," The Sangheili commented as he finally stepped over toward the human, "but no matter, you are the Chief of Security I presume?"

Leon didn't immediately respond 'no', which was a sign that he was giving the proposal serious consideration.

"There's a saying," he started, "'Most people don't actually know the difference between right and wrong, and often times need to be reminded of what that difference is. They think they know, but all they know is what's right for them and they try to apply that to the world the world around them. Often times with disastrous results.'

"I wish I could remember who said it first, but that basically describes this entire crew in a nutshell.

"No one has ever doubted the talents and abilities of any of the superpowered individuals on board. Or any member of the crew, for that matter. The only question has been 'will they listen to Command?' When you have a gathering of individuals like this, most of whom do what they think is right, and don't want to listen if someone says otherwise, the answer to that question has been, by and large, 'no'.

"Not that I think either myself or Command has been absolutely right about everything. But to get things organized, someone has to be in charge of it all. Someone has to be the one to remind everyone of the difference between right and wrong." And that was the reality of the situation. "Unity, freedom, and equality are all good things, but everyone can't all call the shots at the same time." Or else you get... well, this crew, more or less.

"You have a good idea in theory," he remarked, looking at the datapad. "But can you get them to listen to Command?"

"If you have any ideas on how to make that happen, I'm all ears." Because that was the part no one had been able to figure out as of yet.

"Your body is going through more changes?" Considering her frequent metamorphosis that happened after the Seer shot her, it wouldn't surprise him if that were the case.

"That I am," Leon stated, looking up at the alien. "You're Rtas, I assume?"

"Yes," to the point, certainly, "Authority in metahuman circles tends to order itself by reputation and legacy. Among those rosters is a tentative list of senior members. A cross-section of veterans from various different universes, people with histories of Government sanction or approval. They'll direct training sessions and co-ordinate sub-units in the field, but otherwise report to ship command."

Another dossier is handed over, this one a detailed report on the Justice Society of America's mentor system, "We give them the incentive of autonomy, that they're being organised by their own kind, and you'll find them a lot more amenable. I'm not promising miracles overnight, but it'll work."

"...yes, though that is tangential. I am with you in spirit, and to some degree physically."

She reaches up and very slightly lifts one of the wrappings, revealing a pinprick's look at a dark depth studded with small lights like stars.

"And what would you need from me?" Not that Leon was entirely convinced it would work. The superheroes from different worlds were just as prone to arguing as everyone else was. But potentially folding whatever hierarchy existed into the command structure would be a potentially huge boon.

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