milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Zed is sitting in one of the booths, and the table in front of him is covered with printouts. "Blueprints" doesn't quite seem appropriate. Better to call them "blackprints."

Zed is both studying and not studying them. Not studying them because, really, he knows the layout of MiB Headquarters by heart. But it's been a while since he had to retake the facility from an enemy force, and he's never had to do it against something as insidious as Black Oil.

So he's studying them. Planning tactics. And drinking whiskey. But mostly planning.

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"Some days more than others." He gestures to the booth opposite. "Take a seat if you want."

"I'm part of a bureau that monitors, licenses, and polices alien activity on the planet Earth. Several Earths, actually. There are bureaus on multiple Earths. I'm in charge of one of them."

He glances down. "Or was in charge. Ran into some serious trouble with an alien entity we call Black Oil. My agents were tracking it down when it attacked our headquarters. Now I'm getting help from here to get it the hell out of there."

Duo slides into the seat, obviously very interested. "Well, you definitely picked the right place to look, anyway. This place is filled with powerful, bored people. Or those with over-active do-gooder complexes."

He includes himself in the latter category.

"What's this Black Oil thing?"

"Petroleum-based alien being. Sentient and malevolent, capable of possessing humans and other forms of sentient life. Has some form of limited telepathy that allows it to draw strength from human theta brainwave patterns. Highly dangerous in every respect."

"It broke into our dimension from another universe, one where the star Alpha Aquilae has a fourth planet, Altair IV. We have good reason to believe the Oil originated there."

"Sound familiar?"

"'Fraid not. We haven't moved beyond colonizing Mars, yet. No contact with alien races, either. Probably a good thing." That last bit is muttered.

Earth and the Colonies still have a little ways to go.

"Well, count your world lucky. I either find a way to stop the Oil or my Earth is toast. And that's not happening on my watch."

"...set it on fire?"

Well. It'd work if he had enough flame throwers, and didn't really care about that shiny complex of his.

"Set it on fire. Blow the shit out of it. Whatever works."

"You care about having a headquarters left, after it's gone?"

Duo raises an eyebrow at the blueprints.

"Bringing down MiB would take one hell of a bang. Probably enough to level the surrounding blocks along with it. Anything short of that, we'll be able to rebuild."

"What have you got in mind?"

"If it's as insidious as you say it is... clap a stopper over all your exits and firebomb the place like you were trying to get rid of roaches that can eat your brains.

"Or if you've got a way to protect your guys, go in with the big guns. Either one might take more prep time than you've got, though."

It's an interesting dilemma, fighting something that isn't even humanoid.

"Not a bad idea. If we can get to the exits. Or one of the central control panels, assuming they haven't been compromised by the Oil's operatives. No way to know until that Door over their reappears and I can lead a team back in."

"But you can bet your ass I'm calling on the big guns."

"You might need two," Duo says absently, looking over the blueprints again.

"A big distraction with big guns, which gets all the attention and holds open your way out. And a smaller team to crack into your system, seal the place up, and set off your bombs. Or microwaves, or napalm. I'm not sure of your level of tech."

He glances up to Zed.

"High. We can draw on the tech of multiple alien civilizations. If we need a technical capability, we can find a way to get it."

"Not a bad plan. I was thinking along the same lines. But the two teams will have to be prepared for contingencies. The Oil is highly advanced, and has an unknown familiarity with MiB systems. We could find the HQ fighting for us or against us. If against us, then getting to the high tech isn't going to be easy."

"Then you might have to bring your own. That, and people who it doesn't already know about, if it has access to your systems. How about a virus? Hack it, crash it. Break in and reboot it under your control?"

"Oracle's volunteered. If she has the skills she seems to, that might be something she can engineer. Might keep the Oil distracted. Sort of a virus itself, so that might hit it where it hurts."

"You willing to sign up for one of the teams?"

Both eyebrows vanish behind his bangs. "What makes you think I could do any of what I just said?"

He can, of course. But he wants to know.

"I don't. Not yet."

"But you're asking the right questions. So you get a question back: Do you know how to handle military- and law-enforcement-grade tech?"

"I know how to handle my military and law enforcement tech." Duo reaches into a pocket and pulls out his Preventers ID.

"Not sure how well it'd translate."

Zed looks over the ID for a moment. "Preventers. Preventers. Sounds familiar."

He eyes Duo with a look of, "Help me out here?"

...what would be noteworthy enough for weirdo government agencies to have a footnote about his world?

Oh. Right.

"Date's AC 199. We've got four colonial clusters orbiting Earth, and currently running a terraforming project on Mars. We just finished up two sphere-wide wars, and Preventers are the extinguishers for the wildfires that spring up."

Now the history's out of the way...

"Ever hear of a Gundam?"

Zed blinks. Then barks a laugh of triumph.

"You're telling me you're a Gundam pilot?"

"Used to be." It's a little clipped. He misses his big pile of gears.

"Used to be, huh?" Zed asks, with an odd gleam in his eye.

"Miss it? Or is that all behind you now?"

It's pretty obvious this guy is getting at something.

"So long as you promise you're not an advance scout for a war crimes tribunal, yeah, I miss it. Mine in particular, but I don't get to pilot as much as I'd like, anymore."

"Stick with me, and I just might be able to do something about that. If we can get you here, that is."

Zed is pointing at a very large room on the top-most level, clearly marked, "Landing Bay."

"And I already have some ideas about how we can make that happen."

"The name's Zed, by the way." He puts out a hand.