Sons of Pluto

[Tyrazial]

Aidan flexed his hand, stretching it back and forth repeatedly. He stared out the window of the transport. Silently, the vehicle sped across the cosmos, using gravitic engines to propel across distances at incredible speeds. Patented as safe, it had been the staple of spaceship travel for hundreds of years. Not that it made Aiden feel safe.

He stood and moved back to his cabin. Displays showed the autopilot's estimation of the travel time. Aiden took note of that as he moved to the back of the craft, and in to his quarters. Some might consider it a cramped lifestyle. A bed large enough for Aiden was the only piece of furniture the room. A fold-down table protruded from the wall, a variety of data pads on it. In the corner, a small sink added the last bit of decoration to the room.

He laid down on his bed, reaching for one of the pads off of the desk. He scanned over the information displayed on it. He closed his eyes after a moment, analyzing the data and the scene he just left at earth. Riots had already began to form in various areas throughout the Core World Alliance. Fingers began pointing back and forth as to what happened.

The Sons of Pluto were working overtime to try and manage the situation, using their damage control abilities to their maximum. Possible problems had been eliminated, dozens of the best voices in the organization were on site minimizing revolts as much as possible. For the first time since it's founding, the Son of Pluto were being overwhelmed.

None of that concerned Aidan however. He had one mission to do, and that's all he wanted to worry about. He tried to recall everything he remembered on his brief walk-through. Being a lowly medical personnel, he wasn't able to linger into the room as much as he would've liked to. But he did notice that they were accurate in their reports, no signs of injury on the body. No signs of a struggle. No signs of forced entry. It chilled Aidan to the bone that for all intents and purposes it appeared the present just died.

That was the diagnosis for the moment as well, that the president died of natural causes. However, that was not accepted by the public anymore than the Sons of Pluto. A thirty-five year old woman does not die of natural causes. Especially when she had no health issues whatsoever.

The Sons of Pluto had more than extensive information on her health. They gathered family health history, a complete workup of her genetic predispositions, and every medical record since her birth. Nothing showed up. No genetic anomolies. She was a perfect specimen of humanity, part of the reason they helped ensure she would be the president. Now things seemed to be spinning madly out of even their incredible control.

Now Aidan was assigned the mighty task of bringing it back. He looked at the personnel report of the people assigned to his team. He was impressed with the records of many of them, but then again they'd have to be good. Something of this importance wasn't just given out like cookies at a party.

Aidan continued to analyze the scene in his memory. The camera feeds he had been provided showed no anomolies. No interruption in their feeds, no glitches or oddities. Again, nothing. Aiden would not be thrown off the trail, however. The lack of evidence could itself be all the evidence he needed. Or he could be wasting his time. Either way, he would find out the truth. But, he admitted to himself, he would need help to do it.

His mind began to drift off to sleep, the problems of his assignment dissipating away. Hours passed before he was sharply awoken by the noise of his autopilot announcing they had landed at their destination. He rose immediately and made to disembark his vehicle. He sighed as he did so, knowing that those few hours of sleep might just be the last he'd ever get before this is over.

[TheBlindMime]

Trent was bored already, it had been far too easy to get this far. He sighed reluctantly as he pulled his hands away, he couldn't force himself to do something like this when he was bored. The moment was gone.

"Why did you stop?" The curious voice of a young woman asked, her blouse open and her face flushed.

"I just remembered something important, I have to go make sure that's safe first. Wait here for me, won't be long." His voice sounded sincere and sweet to her ears, she quickly agreed. As the door locked behind him she did her best to sound seductive.

"I'll be waiting and thinking of you." As the door locked electronically behind him, he shrugged. Something was off today, normally he'd be happy to let any young socialite join the zero-g club on a long voyage but his heart just wasn't in it today.

Straightening his tie to its usual position he made his way back towards the coach section. After sneaking up to the first class he'd found it very mundane, this whole trip was beginning much like it would end. As a huge pain in Trent's ass.

He was already wishing he had smuggled himself aboard a different vessel, too late now Trent. As he passed the many aisles he saw a man with a cigarette taking a few quick puffs. Trent had given up smoking for almost five years now, but for some reason the sight of that flaming ball at the end of that sin stick looked like heaven. He approached the man with a friendly smile and a distinctly British accent. "Hey mate, can I borrow a fag?" The man looked up quizzically, obviously unfamiliar with Trent's choice of slang. "A cigarette."

"Sure," The man replied as he lifted up an almost full pack with a single cigarette protruding, Trent gratefully took the cigarette and snatched the man's lighter off the table. As the cigarette flared under the flame Trent could feel his lungs take in every little bit of nicotine, it was heaven. "Wow you sure like your fag's... mate." The smoker said awkwardly trying to adopt the slang.

Trent knew immediately he would need the rest of the pack, "Too right chap, listen I'll trade you a tart for the rest of the pack."

"A tart?" The man asked, the look upon his face made it clear he was thinking of a pastry.

"A girl mate, she's in stall 3 all warmed up for you. Tell her Trent sent you." Trent reached out his hand gladly accepting the smokes as the man rushed off to the bathroom, "Make sure to knock four times now chap." He looked down to his hand to see he still had the man's lighter, a nice silver lighter with the word 'forever' engraved upon it. "Stilvoll." He remarked in the little German he knew.

Pocketing the lighter he made his way back towards the door he waved his hand whimsically as it opened for him automatically the key card slot glowing green for no reason other then he willed it to. He sat down at the first open seat and was greeted by an immediate, "Could you please put that out, I'm allergic."

A young twenty something woman sat to his left, she had ample bosoms and beautiful eyes. Trent wagered he could have her in ten minutes, then taking another drag he remembered the clear difference between the pleasure he had now and the lack of pleasure he felt earlier. "No."

[Astral Harmony]

Dominique stepped out of the shower, drying her hair off as she went for the communicator. Wordlessly, she took up the communicator, knowing that something was up.

"Sapperfield," Dominique answered.
"Condition Alpha Omega."

And the other end hung up. She already had her uniform laid out on the bed next to her discarded black tank top, sweat shorts, and white underwear from her morning workout. Dominique was dried, dressed and gone in less than a minute, grabbing a breakfast bar on the way out.

[SaigoKusunoki]

A siren was heard in the distance, as Kais stood on the balcony of his apartment, staring into the light show that was the City that Never Sleeps. His shirt was off and he was enjoying a cool breeze, the feeling of air gently whipping his hair bringing forth a casual smile. It had been a month since his last mission, and Kais was getting quite used to the vacation.

He leaned over the balcony casually and pulled a long dagger from his belt, the keen blade making a dull sliding sound against the inside of the leather sheathe. He held the monomolecular blade up to his eyes, the tip pointing away, as he examined it for any deformities. The lights of the city were split by it's edge, and dimly reflected in his eyes. Though he hadnt fully mastered it, he was on his way to having his monomolecular blades made to be nonreflective. He was already halfway there; turning the blade sideways, the bright lights were only scarcely reflected in the blade.

He was smiling to himself, admiring his craftsmanship, when his data pad started to beep. The smile on his face was wiped away instantly, replaced by a look of utter frustration. Quickly sheathing his blade, Kais stomped across the room and picked up the pad a little more forcefully than he should have. His breath caught in his throat when he read what it said.

"Condition Alpha Omega"

"....Fuck me."

He moved like a robot, as if he was ready for this all his life. He quickly got dressed and put his hair up, and began sliding bits of wargear into his jacket. His most prized firearm, the Vindicator handgun, found it's comfortable spot inside his jacket, in a holster sewed into the denim jacket itself. He grabbed a briefcase filled with ammo clips and specialty rounds, his datapad, a snazzy pair of sunglasses, and was about to leave when he stopped at a small, pocketsized case, to the naked eye, nothing more than a glasses case. He slid his Stimulant Packs into his jacket with a small shudder; sometimes he wished he hadnt even attempted to invent that. He shook it those thoughts away quickly; those drugs had saved his life more than once.

Taking a quick scan of his room, he left with a frown; nothing good could ever be expected from the hell-job he had.

[Tyrazial]

Aidan stared into the blackness surrounding the room. A single light, cast downward from the ceiling onto the spot where he stood, was the only illumination in the room. Amidst the blackness were the Will of the Sons, the council that led the Sons of Pluto and dispatched orders to their agents. Rare was it for someone to get such an audience with them, but dark times made such a meeting a necessity.

A voice rippled through the room, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, "Do you understand what we have told you?"

Aidan shook his head, "I guess... but... are you sure?"

"Yes. From the data you gathered, and what information our other agents have provided, there can be no doubt. A member of the Sons has betrayed us. Over the years admittedly we have lost the sharp edge we once had in terms of security, but this is unprecedented. There lies within our fold a rogue agent."

Aidan still felt overwhelmed. A rogue agent in the hand. As the others from his team were summoned and making their way to the base, Aidan was forced to confront the most difficult news he'd ever heard. In all of it's existence, the Sons had never been breached. Never been betrayed

"What do I tell the others?"

"Nothing. We don't need to alert any of them to our suspicions. If one of them is the killer, this will be the tip off that we're on to them. And even if everyone in your team is innocent, this will cause un-needed lack of focus."

"What about me? It's going to be hard to trust a team of people when any one of them could be a traitor."

"You are a Voice. You are trained to daily immerse yourself in people you do not know and do not trust."

"But they aren't agents. They aren't-"

"It does not matter. You will command them, and you will watch them. Do not fail us, Voice Aidan. If this security threat reveals itself at just the wrong time, it could mean the end of our organization, and the peace we have worked so hard to maintain."

Aidan saluted and nodded, "As you command it, so shall I do."

Without another word Aidan spun on his heels and walked out of the room. As he left the room he let out a big sigh, "Why did I ever accept this job?"

[Flarecobra]

Out of the shadows, or from what seemed like it, a redheaded girl clad in a matte black jumpsuit saw her target. He was known as a police captian who wouldn't mind taking a few extra dollors to let a criminal go free, and apperantally had a some blackmail that helped keep him in his position. Now it wasn't for much longer. As he sipped on his coffee, she took out a small dropper, filled with a type of nanite that would destroy his blood vessels. As she moved past his table, she squirted some into his mug, being careful not to make any suddon ripples. He didn't even look up from his news Blog. She smiled. There was enough in there to fell a bull elephant now, and the nanites would dissolve within an hour, but it would be too late for the offical, who would be silently bleeding to death internally. She pointed out a root beer float that she wanted to the server, and watched him as he sipped his now-lethal drink.

[musicmage4114]

"Ambassador, we've detected an unidentified space vessel on an intercept course with us. Shall we commence evasive action?" The voice of the helmswoman cut into Garret's brooding.

"Wha...? Uh, no. I want to have a little fun. Bring us about and down to impulse drive. Let's take them head-on." Garret sat up in his command chair.

He was sitting on the bridge of his flagship, the Ultima. The ship was a giant sphere, with various layers of rotating rings and defensive enhancements. It had been a gift from the government of the Jupitarian Initiatve, after he had negotiated a contract worth trillions of dollars in their favor.

Garret's finely tuned inner ear felt the ship's subtle shift from hyperspace drive to impulse drive. Though it was hardly aerodynamic, the Ultima was incredibly manuevarable.

"Analysis, Deena?" Garret asked calmly. Odds are, the ship was a space pirate trying to plunder the large object that had appeared on his sensor scans. The Ultima could cloak, but that would cast suspicion on the highly respected ambassador. The Ultima could easily defeat any but the most well-funded and well-outfitted space pirates.

"A small ship, comparable to a cruiser-type military ship. Weapons cannot penetrate our shields, and our weapons could easily destroy. The only thing we can't do is outrun it; it's built for speed."

"Perfect. Put it on the viewer."

The incoming pirate ship was small, but fast. "I'll give them credit for building their own ship. Most space pirates steal them." He looked at a small readout on a screen next to his chair.

"Lock the Genesis Cannon. Let's make an example of them." Garret said, a malicious smile widening on his face.

The Genesis Cannon was the crowning achievement of the Jupitarian Initiative's weapons research. The Cannon was an incredibly powerful weapon that could obliterate the average battleship. It would easily demolish this new offender.

"Genesis Cannon charging... charged. Ready to fire."

"Fire."

The Genesis Cannon fired from the depths of the Ultima's core. The orange-and-white blast disintegrated the pirate ship, deleting it from the universe.

When word of this gets around, no space pirate in his right mind will DARE to attack me. Then again, most space pirates aren't in their right minds. "Continue on course to Earth."

[TheBlindMime]

As Trent stepped off the ship onto the docking ring of one of the many interstellar stations in the sol system he felt a gentle vibration in his pocket. A series of expletives fell from his lips faster then booze into a wino's glass. He pulled out the shivering data pad to have his horror's confirmed. "Now to head back the way I came..."

Skipping the civilian bit of travel Trent slipped into the pilot dressing rooms and into a copilot uniform, then boarded a corresponding military ship and headed out. It is truly surprising how little people question you when you wear a uniform.

Ditching the uniform soon after landing he made his way towards the base, as the cigarette in his lips began to have its flame wane he was quick to chain the flame and replace the dying smoke. Discarding it carelessly behind him as he moved on. Something told him this was about the death of the Miyami Kasahiko, former President of the Core World Alliance, current corpse.

Trent had really hoped he wouldn't be tapped for this mission. Hell, he didn't vote for her, not that he would have any right to anyhow, but somehow that justified him not caring one way or the other. Far as he was concerned she hadn't been right for the job since the beginning, now at least there was a shot someone competent could move in.

Trent mulled over the remaining cabinet members in the CWA and then began to hope the Hands were already preparing a series of high profile assassinations to cut back the line to someone worth letting live. As the entrance opened for him he went through the usual clearance precautions that were expected from him. Finally arriving at the front desk he was met by an all too perky gentleman who pointed promptly to a no-smoking sign.

Trent winced.

The perky gentleman slid out of the way as Trent spit the cigarette out of his mouth and over the desk. As the desk jockey jumped up to complain all he caught a glimpse of was Trent's jacket as the elevator doors closed. He had arrived.

(now I'll just hurry up and wait.)

[Tyrazial]

Aidan sighed as he stared out at the spaceport below. The only port of traffic for the Sons, it was a heavily guarded entrance. Not that it really needed it, no one had ever discovered the Sons of Pluto before. Those unfortunate enough to drift this way in search of new horizons, profit, or whatever had died quick and quiet deaths.

A noise from his wrist communicator signalled one of his team had arrived. He looked to the blackness of space outside, wondering just what would these turn of events have for him. In truth, he was leading more than a mission, it was a molehunt. Aidan was cautious in the choosing of his team. He was given a selection of various personnel, and weeded out those he felt he could use.

Trust was a useless thing to the Sons. Everyone got orders from the Will, and hardly interacted with each other. The few situations that called for it went smoothly as everyone would know there job. But this mission, it would require a breed of trust not seen since the Sons' founding.

The people he was gathering would be unveiling the worst crisis to ever hit the galaxy since man first stepped foot on the moon. Already the waves began to churn in the wake of the President's assassination. Every available agent was infiltrating the CWA and working overtime to keep things quiet. In truth, it was going rather smoothly under the circumstances.

But Aidan, and the Will, knew it wouldn't last forever. Votes would be taken to elect the new president, and the Sons would have to move swiftly to ensure their choice was the one who would win. Aidan shook his head, it was too much to worry about for now. He had to keep his head focused on the mission at hand.

[musicmage4114]

"Ambassador, we're picking up a transmission from beyond the Outer Rim."

Damn them. "Patch it through in my ready room, Deena. Then erase the logs of that message being received."

"Sir?" Deena asked, confused.

"You heard me."

Garret stood quickly, and strode into the ready room off of the bridge. "Computer, activate wallscreen. Display message."

"Message is audio only. Proceed?" The computer asked in its emotionless, slightly feminine voice.

"Proceed."

"Condition Alpha Omega."

Garret's jaw dropped, and he steadied himself on a chair nearby. "Deena?" he said through the intercom.

"Yes, sir?"

"Set a course back to Pluto, full hyperdrive."