Log:A Breach in the Case, Scene 6

A Breach in the Case 2015/11/03 Siege Indira Nexus Quiet Rick 6

Rick Mason looks and feels like a cat that has been plunged into a bath tub. He sits, in a hospital gown, on a bed in the "xeno-biology" department because no one else seems to be properly equipped to work on a man that keeps regenerating. Well, also there may have been a hilarious misunderstanding when he and Indira first arrived that led to the two of them being dragged down to this department for exams.

On the plus side, Indira is no longer being mistaken for a highly invasive alien plant creature like the one under Feros colony. She is free to sit or stand off to one side of the room, holding a clear plastic bag filled with the ruined military clothing that Rick was wearing when she - and the gang - dragged Rick in here. Not to mention she gets to listen to Rick's increasingly sour thoughts about health care administration and the ruinous scourge of bureaucracy that permeates modern medicine. The theories he's spun about cancerous memetic infections in hospitals since the 1960's could fill a thousand conspiracy theory websites for a thousand years! And they've all been simulcast in Indira's brain; that's fun, right?

"Can I go now?" asks Rick for about the fifteenth time in the past five minutes.

Indira is learning quite a lot about how medicine is perceived to work in Rick's era, and is getting to compare it first hand to what's happening currently. She's chosen to stand by the window and gaze out of it, sunbathing for nourishment while also looking away to give Rick some privacy during the tests. She had stepped out whenever things were private or invasive, and between patient and doctor type of things.

"As soon as they are sure you are well, Rick." She has considered this off-duty time and is dropping off the much more formal 'Mr. Mason'. She half twists her torso as she looks over her shoulder. "How -are- you feeling, Rick? Do you still remember nothing of what happened to you?"

"Of course I'm well. I can't be unwell anymore," protests Rick.

Though he sounds like he's all full of World War 2 era "piss and vinegar", Indira senses Rick just feels tired on the inside. He's tired of being in the hospital and tired of fighting over every question posed to him and tired of feeling like a freakshow exhibit. For reasons most unclear, the mental image of a short, stout woman with a positively enormous beard lingers in the telepathic link between employer and employee.

"I feel fine. I feel like I've felt ever since I woke up under freaking Nebraska." Rick heaves a tired sigh and leans back to stare up at the ceiling. "No, I still don't remember what happened. One minute I'm finishing some whiskey and thinking about bleeding the lizard, the next thing I know I'm waking up on a rooftop across town, days after the fact."

"You seemed very unwell when we found you, Rick," Indira says softly, her voice almost pained. She understands he can heal, and even come back from the dead, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

She whirls about quickly in an about face and strides across the room like an ambassador on a mission. "I will see about getting you released," she announces, determined to cut through the red tape of hospital procedure. If she has to, she has a card to play for just such occasions.

"Do not bleed lizards, Mr. Mason. That sounds barbaric and cruel." By the use of his last name, it's a formal request. A serious one. She only just understood the draining leg analogy. Bleeding the lizard is something she's nore prepared for, and her translator doesn't even know what to do with the metaphor.

"... I..."

Rick takes a moment to fully process the formal request. He purses his lips and squints at Indira for a few seconds. With a tired little laugh, Rick comments, "You're thinking too literally, Indira. It's a euphemism for having to pee."

The Undead Soldier just slumps backward and lounges on the bed. He watches Indira and her purposeful stride, considering her for several seconds longer before he comments, "You don't have to go and make them release me. I'm just antsy. Anxious even. Hospitals and I don't always get along, y'know? Maybe I keep expecting them to just wheel me down to the morgue and tell me I'm just having delusions of being alive."

Indira halts before crossing the threshold. "Pee...?" She repeats it like it's a foreign concept. Her collar flickers to life with a few lights, psionically transmitting the translation and meaning. Ah, yes. Other races need to do that.

"Your language is so...colorful," she decides. She turns towards him in almost a graceful sway, eyes studying Rick back before she finally smiles softly. "I would do anything in my power to help you, Mr. Mason. If you are uncomfortable here, and if I can fix it, I will."

She clasps her hands before her, the bag of tattered bloodied clothes dangling from her grasp. "You are definitely alive, Rick. And I'm joyous that you are. Is there anything I can do for you?" There's a careful dance of friend versus employer. She's clearly concerned for his well being, but she's more concerned that he's comfortable than following hospital regulation.

"We've had a long time to experiment with colors of the rainbow," remarks Rick. He shrugs a little bit as he regards Indira in quiet contemplation for a long while. There's a flicker of emotion somewhere inside of Rick when Indira comments on her joy that he is, indeed, alive and not just some corpse having hallucinations. A little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he continues to study Indira's face.

Once again, Indira senses that Rick isn't so much looking at her as he's looking at someone else. Someone important to him. Can an Asrani tell when other species see ghosts of their past overlaying their features? If they can, do they find it as haunting an experience as the people seeing it? Indira may be forced to wonder this because Rick is definitely, deeply considering those questions.

"I know you would, Indira. I guess I get it - I guess I get you - now. Sorry if I've been a prick about keeping you safe."

Indira chews on that expression for a little bit. She gives it time rather than asking aloud, and the mental impression from Rick gradually filters in to fill in the blank.

"You were doing your job, and I appreciated you doing your duty." Indira smiles with some mirth. "Even when I was not cooperative. I need someone to remind me I am not an explorer anymore. I have new responsibilities now. I cannot rush into danger as I used to."

She falls silent for a few moments. Her kind usually can't tell how others perceive them, unless they're in prolonged mental contact with them. She sensed it when he awoke, and senses it more now with the understanding that he's possibly seeing a specific face rather than a general ideal. It's rare, but it does happen, as it did with Mr. Pollox and his lost wife, Cheryl. And it was obvious then that it greatly pained Indira to be put in that role and have to play it.

So, she does her best to differentiate herself from the ghost, but respect it's memory. "I am hopeful you understand me better. And I continue to try and understand you better," she says gingerly.

Indira takes small steps to draw herself closer to Rick's bedside. Something in her expression is sad and sympathetic. "I understand you do not like prying. And I am sorry, but when you were hurt, I was trying to get through to your mind to make sure you were alright. Alive. I'm sorry. I know I should not. It's part of my language." She stops before drawing too close. "I heard the name Lucy. It felt important. -She- felt important."

Lien is a little surprised that Rick is still here, from what little she knows of him. She fully expected him to be visiting a watering hole by the time she'd changed her clothes and returned. Perhaps she was prepared for either eventuality as she enters with what some former colleagues dubbed a 'bro-quet.' The perfect get-well-wishing gift for the recovering badass subjected to a 'lucky shot.'

The creation consists of one 500ml bottle of fine spirits (in this case, she recalls he favored scotch), plus one six-pack of cans (in this case, a common favorite domestic, as she doesn't recall his preferences). The sixer is inverted, with the neck of the bottle inserted through the plastic rings. The cans are splayed out against the body of the bottle by their own weight, in a rough arrangement. Ergo, the broquet.

She lifts it up in brief display to him as she walks on, giving her own 3/4 smile to both him and Indira before setting the much-better-than-flowers gift on a side table.

"It's part of who you are," comments Rick, voice quiet as Indira moves closer. He can sense the question that's coming - or, at least, he thinks he can - as Indira explains about her accidental prying. Shrugging a little bit, Rick offers a polite, tired smile as she gets to the crux of the question markless question.

"Lucy was my girlfriend before I, y'know." Rick "colorfully" pantomimes getting shot in the chest and dying. "I was gonna ask her to marry me when I got back from my tour. Things didn't really... Work out quite right."

There is what Indira may take to be an awkward pause in the conversation. Rick pointedly does not look at Indira. He looks everywhere except at the plantbassador.

"I tracked her down, you know, after I came back - after the government released me from detainment - because I didn't really... I don't know. There wasn't a plan. There wasn't anything really except this little ball of hope that maybe everything else was just a shellshock dream or something."

Rick's voice trails off a second or two before Lien arrives with the broquet. He stares blankly at the gift for long seconds before meaning seems to seep into his brain. Offering a low, appreciative whistle, Rick comments, "On the plus side, the hospital gift shop has definitely gotten better in the past 50 years."

Indira had never heard this side of Rick. The strange impressions of thoughts and memories she's received from him over their months tgoether had him running towards her before getting shot. There's some relief she wasn't actually in the war zone, but suddenly the metaphorical memories make a painful sort of sense that leaves Indira emotionally reeling, but she tries to stiffle it outwardly.

"I'm so, so sorry, Rick," she murmurs softly. "There are no words for my sympathies." She even sounds like she's at a loss. What does she say when she is a terrible reminder of what was lost? The best she can do is look away. "I wish..." and then she stops as Lien walks in. Her eyes lift up to the familiar face and she forces a soft smile. "Oh, look. Lien has come with a gift." And a welcomed diversion.

Lien may be used to being ...quiet, but the momentary silence before the whistle is noted, as is Indira's followup apology. She quirks a brow at Indira sidelong while smirking at Rick believing she found that in the gift shop. Lien wonders, 'aloud,' whether she might be interrupting. That is for Indira. For Rick, she pulls her tablet from her thigh pocket and asks, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? WHAT DIDN'T GROW BACK?

"Because the Celestial Bureaucracy enjoys making me suffer," replies Rick to the first question. He starts to gesture as if winding up for a rant about this "Celestial Bureaucracy" when he notices Lien's second question. Rick smirks and replies, "Everything important grew back, don't worry."

Rick glances over at Indira and offers a small, cheerful little smile. He leans forward and claps a hand on her shoulder in what he intends to be a reassuring manner. Who knows if that translates into plantinese?

Indira was trying very hard not to look back at Rick. Something about wanting to hide her face after the revelation that when he looks at her, he sees the girlfriend he left behind. When he claps his hand on her shoulder, her body jolts a little before she looks back to Rick.

It's a rare thing to see serious Mr. Richard Mason smiling to any degree, especially cheerful. Others may still suspect this is an evil double. Wait...or is it a good double? Whatever theories she may have, she just offers a comforted smile in return. "Mr. Mason will be released soon, I am sure," she speaks to Lien while still smiling to Rick. "And perhaps he has earned some time off." Only then does she turn her head to look back at Lien, to see what her opinion of that idea is.

Griffin arrives to check on Rick. He knocks three times- even his knocking is somehow cheerful. "Rick? You in here or did you already escape?" he asks playfully.

If Rick permits entry he'll be wearing civilian clothes- his usual. Button up dress shirt with his holster over a plain white tee. Otherwise he is still equipped with his MEDkit. He is grinning.

"No one in here but us Centauri Chickens," calls Rick to Griffin. He continues to smile at Indira until she mentions 'time off'. What's he going to do? Sit in the dark, cleaning grenades? Actually, that sounds kind of relaxing and fun...

Insane, but relaxing for Mr. Grenade.

Indira has given Rick the option. If he protests, then that may be negotiable. Indira rises up for a moment. "I should let you speak with your friends," she comments, holding the back of ripped clothing. "Call me if you require me," she smiles, then makes her way out to give them time alone. And maybe to get Rick's release expedited.

Rick has been stuck in the metahuman and xenobiology ward, being monitored and examined after his recent release. While the others went home to rest after the incident and came to visit later, Indira stayed with the Unkillable man.

As the others finally arrived to visit, Indira excused herself to give Rick time alone with his friends, and to expedite the restless Undead Soldier's release. It's been a long night, and a long day, and Indira is starting to feel the affects weighing on her. After the brothers-and-sisters-in-arms have had time to exchange gifts of booze and cigars, Indira makes her way back into Rick's room, tapping the doorframe politely with the flat of her hand to announce her return. She's carrying the bag with Rick's torn and bloodied army fatigues still.

Offering a tired smile, Indira says, "Fortunate news. I have spoken with the doctors, and they will be freeing you soon, Mr. Mason." With a slight cringe of apology, she adds, "They just needed you to sign a form first." More bureaucracy. But at least it sounds like it's only one form!

Caleb has mostly been staying away from the hospital since they rescued Rick from that whatever-the-hell-it-was he was penned up in, not wanting to intrude on what he was coming to suspect was as much a family as a work group. But dropping by for a couple of hours after dinner seemed reasonable. Finding out Rick's room was easy enough, and he shows up a few moments after Indira does.

"Hey," he greets her with a friendly hug. "Everybody doing OK?"

Rick Mason certainly has not eaten a cigar and a Broquet to prove that he is, in fact, unkillable by the time Indira returns. He is, instead, turning the broquet over and over in his hands as he inspects it carefully. Where Lien has gone is mysterious. Attention is drawn toward Indira as she taptaptaps on the doorframe.

"It's a twelve page form, isn't it?" inquires Rick, brown eyes studying Indira and Caleb intently as they appear in the doorway one after the other. He starts to say something else, but pauses and shrugs at Caleb. "I don't really do 'not OK' anymore, man. Thanks for the help on recovering me."

Caleb nods. "No problem... glad I could help. Any idea why those guys snatched you?"

"Because the Universe enjoys making me suffer," suggests Rick.

Caleb chuckles. "That's a good reason."

Indira smiles softly as Caleb greets her, hugging him warmly and giving him a kiss on each cheek. Mr. Mason would recognize this as her typical Asrani greeting. A sign of respect and recognition. And a greeting he and Ms. Violet Wyndell were on the receiving end a few times when they first began to work with Indira, before they insisted she not do it anymore. As a matter of fact, she has dropped the traditional greeting altogether until very recently, it seems.

"Hello, Caleb. I'm glad you are here. It has been a very long day. But Mr. Mason is recovered well." Indira releases Caleb and turns back to Rick. "It...? No, ten." What she actually means is fifteen, but she's got her english numbers mixed up. The universe plays yet another joke on Rick. "It is not all bad, Mr. Mason. Look how many friends have come to see you well."

Caleb nods agreement. "Heck, even people who just met you in a bar once," he adds with a chuckle. "You're clearly a popular guy. Oh, which reminds me..." he reaches behind him and pulls out a package of chocolates, which he hands to Rick. I stole this from another patient, figured you deserved it more."

"No, it's not all bad at all," replies Rick. He rubs the back of his head with one hand, brown eyes watching Indira and Caleb in quiet contemplation. Shrugging a little bit, Rick's gaze drops to the stack of papers in Indira's hands. About to say something, Rick is taken off-guard by the pack of chocolates suddenly filling his field of vision.

"Err... Okay then? Thought that counts 'n' all that shi- schick."

Indira eyes Caleb slightly at the mention of stealing, a brow perking up with inquisitiveness, or maybe sly suspicion on where he really got the box of chocolates. She smiles a little and turns her attention back to Rick. "Sweets will make this less painful," she says as she offers the fifteen page stack of release papers and the pen she's holding against the top of the stack with her thumb. Blissfully, there is only one page that needs signing; the very last one.

Caleb laughs. "Exactly. And, hey, you don't gotta watch your language on _my_ account." He looks over his shoulder at the form and shakes his head. "Geez. Government forms... I'll take mercenaries shooting at me any day."

Rick is slowly swallowed up by the stack of papers in his hand. There is reading to do. Unfortunately, there is also pen-clicking to do.

Griffin looks out the window absently. He wonders what the deal was with Rick's battalion insignia on that building was... and why the patch was different.

"Hey Indira - can I see that bag of Jack Lemmon's clothes? I wanna see if the old style BDUs had the same logo." Griffin asks looking at Indira.

"BDUs?" Cale echoes curiously.

"Battle Dress Uniforms- his clothing." Griffin explains.

Indira turns about left and right cluelessly. "Jack Lemmon? I only have what Rick was wearing. If that will be of any help," she holds up the bag of dirtied, torn clothing.

Caleb nods. He doesn't get the Jack Lemmon thing either, but tries to ration his stupid questions.

"Thanks." Griffin says taking the clothes and pulling out the top to get a good close-up view of all the patches on Rick's clothing.

He does not explain the Jack Lemmon comment.

"Jack Lemmon was an old time actor when him and I were making current pop culture references," comments Rick without looking up from the papers.

Caleb doesn't seem any less confused by that explanation. "Old-time? You're not _that_ much older than me."

Indira watches Griffin with growing curiousity on what he may be on to. "Mr. Mason is older than looks. Just as I am," Indira smiles softly at Caleb's confusion.

I can't find a character with that name.

Caleb nods. Not his first rodeo, as far as that goes. "Immortal? Or time-traveler?"

"Arguably both," replies Rick. He looks up for a moment, fixing his brown eyes on Caleb, "You got Dr. Who in this god forsaken bureaucratic future?"

Caleb shakes his head and shrugs. "Never met the guy."

"That's weird... Rick- look at this." Griffin says, handing him his own shirt over the paperwork that assures & reinstates his freedom. "Doesn't that insignia look all wrong?"

He bites his tongue- nearly off ignoring the Doctor Who question. He loves the Doctor. But this is a mystery!

"... It was a television show..."

Rick sighs and looks plaintively at Griffin. This fails because Griffin is inadvertantly using the back of Rick's BDUs as a curtain to shield himself from expressions of exasperation. Looking back at Caleb, Rick tries again.

"I died in 2015, woke up in 2064. Also, surprise, I don't age or stay wounded anymore."

Griffin drags Rick's attention back toward the BDU top. Rick ogles it for a few seconds before commenting, "What? It's an insignia for combat engineers."

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

"... I was wearing a combat engineer's BDUs?"

There it is.

Indira peers curiously to see what Griffin is pointing out. "No, I spoke to Dr. Nguyen." Which is pronounced as 'Dr. When'. Indira still doesn't understand the show reference, or the significance of the BDUs. "Those were what you were wearing. What does that mean? Combat engineer's BDUs? How did you get them?"

Caleb nods at the explanation... weird, but no weirder than Jenn and Jess' backstory. Not that he ever quite understood _that_, either. He's about to follow up with more questions when Griffin steps in with some notes about Rick's clothing, which apparently has some important meaning that goes completely over his head. He feels a little better when Indira doesn't seem to understand it, either.

"I'm not sure it's anything yet." Griffin says looking to Caleb. H elooks back to Rick expectantly. But the look on his face says, "I didn't know you were a combat engineer..." Its probably the eyebrows.

Rick is basically Angsty Captain America, except he woke up under Nebraska instead of inside of an iceberg.

Pausing for a long, long moment to stare at the BDUs, Rick eventually comments, "I don't know. I don't know how I ended up where you found me and I don't know how I lost my civvies. I couldn't tell you why I was wearing 51 year old BDUs for a combat engineer."

With that, Rick scoots off of the bed and stands up. He takes his paperwork and shrugs, "I'm gonna go turn this in," is all he says before he starts wandering out of the room. Someone might want to warn him to tie up the back of his hospital gown.

Someone might. It won't be Cale, though.

After that barely helpful statement- it won't be Griff eiter.

Indira lets out a strained sound and taps her foot on the ground twice as she watches Rick go. She doesn't say anything aloud, but only Rick swears he hears her voice. "You are considered exposed by Earth Culture standards." In fact, Rick IS the only one that hears the comment, because she's mentally transmitting her voice.

Caleb shrugs. "Do those BVD things have, like, dogtags or anything?"

Rick reaches back and scratches his bare butt with one hand as he exits the room. He may or may not have gotten Indira's message. Maybe she went straight to mental voice mail?

Indira lets out a soft tired sigh, everything else catching up to her. She looks to Caleb and offers a tired smile. "Thank you for coming, Cale. It has been a very worrying time. First the starport, and now this." She looks to Griffin with another grateful smile for him. "Thank you again for your help at the Starport, Mr. Freeman. I am so pleased to see Rick and you work well together."

Caleb says, "Well, at least he looks a lot better than he did last night." He looks down at his feet for a moment, then back up. "So... what's the deal with you all? Some kind of metahuman special ops or something?"

"You can call me any time, Ma'am." Rick says, suddenly standing upright. "It was my pleeasure to bring him home."

He looks to Indira to provide the 'proper' description of their group.

Indira can't help but giggle softly at the idea. "No, and yes? Mr. Mason and Mr. Freeman have a military background. And similar histories. But they -are- special."

Caleb nods. "Now _that's_ an understatement. You guys fight together often?"

Indira elaborates a little more once she stops giggling at the idea of being involved with a special ops group. How little she realizes that she sort of is. "No. A lot of things happened quickly, recently. Mr. Mason is an employee of Sabot and Saberline, and was assigned as the head of my security. His job is to keep innocents safe if there is another attack on me. He sometimes forgets that." She motions to Griffin. "Mr. Freeman was hired by Mr. Mason to help with a starport inspection."

Offering a warm smile to Griffin, Indira adds with a bowed head, "And I am very grateful for his help and skills. I hope he would be willing to work with us again. In better times, I hope."

Caleb nods. He's not really sure he buys it, but he doubts that pushing harder will get him any more answers. "Well, if we're gonna be 'working together' a lot, I'd recommend some group training... get to know each other's strengths, get used to doing things like rushing mercenaries behind doors, shit like that."

Caleb appears to have invited himself along.

"Often enough." Griffin says with a 'wish I could tell ya bub.' look on his face- well that is until Indiria spills most of the beans.

He smiles at Indira's off-handed offer. "Oh- most definitely ma'am. That was a hoot. 10/10 would do again. Hopefully next time I can do an orbital insertion with Rick tagging along."

Indira was going to say, in some way or another. "I believe they already have team training," she comments with confidence in their abilities. "An orbital insertion? I do not know what that is, but maybe we can arrange it?"

"Oh just jumping from the edge of space is all. What a good time." Griffin says positively beaming. He's not chattering like he was when they telported out of that black-ops facility but inside- Griffin's reserves are more than topped off.

His body assimilates the 'excess' power as he sits the casually chatting it up.

Caleb shrugs. "If you want a lift to the edge of space, I can help with that."

"Wait- seriously?" Grififn asks. "That- that would be awesome!" He says excitedly before Caleb can answer.

"Yeah, sure. You wanna try it now?" Cale holds out a hand.

Griffin steps back a step away from Caleb's outstretched hand.

"No- not like right now. Thanks- I need equipment. Namely a chute that can take the forces involved." He explains.

"But I will definitely take you up on it!" He adds

"Oh... yeah, sure, makes sense," Cale replies. "A chute. Right. I forgot."

Griffin pulls out his PD (personal device) and begins as he calls it 'googling' for whatever he's looking for suddenly. Likely its the equipment one would need to do something a stupid as jump from the top of the atmosphere.

Caleb says, "I'm surprised you don't have a jetpack or something in that suit of yours."

Griffin laughs for a moment before double-taking, "Wait- they sell those? Like to ... anybody?" He asks.

Caleb thinks about that. "I have no idea... I've only been back on Earth a few weeks, myself. They didn't back in the 50s. But they can't be _that_ hard to get... you seem to carry some pretty fancy ordinance."

"Actually I found this thing... and to be honest I don't think it works... not properly. I've found a charger but it doesn't 'accept' the juice. But it doesn't seem to need it either." Griffin says, nodding down towards his holster.

"I know this sounds weird... but I haven't charged my phone either... not ever." Griffin admits. The way he says it - this is obviously the first time he's acknowledged it. Those around him would also find this effect around him- their PDs that are not specially shielded would all be charged seconds within being around Griffin.

Indira listens curiously as the guys talk shop. She seems slightly amused at the talk of jetpacks and their rarity. How delightfully oldfashioned this world is.

Caleb huhs. "Sounds like you're doing a decent job of charging gadgets on your own. Mind giving my phone a boost?" He fishes it out of his pocket, is about to hand it over and stops, puzzled, when he sees it fully charged. "Huh. Weird."

"Wait- yours too?" Griffin asks curiously.

Caleb nods. "Yeah. Maybe I've got the same guardian angel you do, now. What do you think, like nanites or something?"

Indira glances between the two curiously, not understanding the relevance yet. She doesn't even quite realize Griffin is a metahuman by traditional definition. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, I don't think so," Cale explains, pocketing his phone and lifting one of Rick's chocolates. "Just... weird. I mean, not immortal clothes-changing combat engineers weird, or awesome alien plant-ladies weird, or whatever, but still... weird."

Indira seems to ponder on what Cale just said. "Mr. Freeman...I do not understand. What is strange about the uniform? This combat engineer battle dress?"

A moment later, Indira realizes Cale called her awesome, and flashes him a warm smile.

Caleb grins and tosses her a chocolate.

Caught by surprise, Indira's eyes go wide as the chocolate flies her way. She cups both hands and manages to catch it clumsily. "Thank you, Cale," she grins at the sweet treat before popping it into her mouth. Chocolate is something still new to her, and she really seems to be enjoying it.

"I don't think so, ma'am." Griffin says with a smirk at Caleb's explaination. "Just ... growing pains I guess."

"I wish I knew what the signifigance was of the insiginia- and the painting on the building. But it's not the same emblem as Ricks- not exactly."

Indira chews the chocolate thoughtfully, her response long delayed as she's reluctant to end tasting the delicacy. Finally, she swallows and asks, "And why would they shoot him? If he wwas one of them?" She frowns deeply as she recalls Rick's wounds. "How? How could they do that to him...? I don't understand what they did. I feel like there are more answers back there..."

Caleb shrugs. "Whatever they were doing in there, it involved interdimensional messing around... maybe they aren't from our Earth? Not exactly, I mean? If you want we could go back down there and check out their computers and stuff." It occurs to him that maybe the Rick they rescued wasn't the one they lost, but he keeps that theory to himself... no sense raising concerns they can't resolve.

"I do not think we can leave them there. They kidnapped Rick. And tried to kill him. What if they do that to others?" Indira asks worriedly. "They may be gone already. But my concern was getting Rick back."

Caleb nods. "Fair enough. We should maybe wait for Rick to get discharged, though? If we bring him with us he might remember something that helps us make sense of it all."

Indira nods at Caleb's idea. "Yes. I wish we had time to rest. But we may not have much time before they flee their lab." After everything, she hasn't even stopped to rest or sleep or get changed. She's still wearing the muddied clothing from the assault on the labs. At least she had a chance to wash her face and hands in a restroom in the meantime. And she seems tired. Slower moving than usual.

"I couldn't agree more." Griffin says nodding to Caleb.

Rick Mason sits in the back of /ANOTHER/ embassy sedan, his Breach helmet resting comfortably on his lap as he stares out the front windshield toward the approaching CB Industrial Park. He whistles softly as he sees the battalion sigil painted onto the side of the warehouse, the sound not quite appreciative as he studies the layout in front of him.

"Doesn't look familiar to me," Rick comments. He pauses a moment before correcting himself, "The sigil looks familiar. It's clearly based on my old battalion logo, but it's not the one we used to use. And I definitely don't remember being /HERE/ to paint it or see it painted."

To be perfectly honest, Rick isn't even sure how he got talked into going over to Bad Company to pick up his new Breach suit. He's really not sure how he got talked into putting on his armor and strapping up with all of his weapons and climbing into another embassy vehicle that Griffin "collected" from the motorpool. All Rick Mason is really sure of is that he's going to get some damn answers about the mystery that is his afterlife.

And this is how we find ourselves packed into a black embassy sedan, rolling up on the edge of the Industrial Complex at 9 o'clock at night on a Tuesday. There are a number of high-intensity work lights in operation along the perimeter of the warehouse and the sump now, but there is no immediate evidence of people under those lights. Perhaps the team needs to get closer to find the people using the lights - or perhaps the team should avoid people entirely on this run - so that they can collect the answers they desire of this mysterious place.

It may be that Indira and the others were planning to go that made talking Rick into it easier. Either way, Indira was determined to go. She even changed for the occasion from her muddied dress.

Now, she's wearing a tight fitting white and charcoal armored suit made of thin, intricate panels that allow great flexibility, and a few venting slats. It's almost like a second skin. There's energy conduit panels that glow a soft cyan when powered up, and a retractable helmet that can be activated with the push of a button.

"Are you sure you are up for this, Breach?" Indira uses Rick's on-the-job name, given the situation. "I understand if you need rest."

Griffin leans against the car and waits for Rick & Indira.

He pulls his weapon out, and taps his headset over into nightvision to scout the area outside of the zone lit by the large worklight.

Griffin is wearing his BDUs, fresh from the cleaners. He's looking quite anxious to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"This is gonna be a good night." Griffin mumbles to his gun with the butt end of a 'stoggie' hanging out of his mouth, relit.

"You say I'm alive. The docs say they can't find anything physically wrong with me."

Rick pulls his helmet from his lap and slides it over his head. It locks into place with a pneumatic hiss as Rick shoots a faint smile at Indira. Offering a thumbs up, Rick comments, "I'll be fine. If I can learn something... I'll be fine."

Breach climbs out of the sedan and claps Griffin on the shoulder. He offers a broad, possibly dangerous smile as he comments, "Hell of a night, Old Klingon."

Indira can tell, through her telepathic link, that although Rick may claim to be physically fine, he's not mentally here right now. Or, perhaps, he's too mentally here right now. The familiar presence of his Breach persona is not to be felt, just the frustration and anger and confusion that is Rick Mason.

Indira smiles back softly at Rick, trying not to worry about his condition. He's tough, and hopefully she isn't being over eager and pushing him too hard on a sensitive subject. So much, so quickly. She'll need to give him a break soon. More than just a night off for drinks. She scoots out of the car after him and shuts the door.

You would think with the space suit on, she'd look more alien than ever. But if anything, it makes her look more in place in a city full of heroes and metas in suits and costumes. "We must be careful. Quiet is on the way and will find us." She looks towards the sump and the tunnel entrance she made before, then back to the others. "We could call your Guardsmen to help. Gather evidence now before they flee this place?"

"I say we sneak in and get a good idea of what they are doing here. Hopefully, they never even know we were here. Recon. And if need be- then we call for backup." Griffin says suggestively.

He takes a puff off his cigar and then turns it around to look at it appreciatively. 'Mmmmmm' He subvocalizes. "Just my two-cents ma'am."

Griffin looks to Rick and Indira, thoughtfully- as if looking for their input.

Indira isn't trained in tactics per se. But she trusts her their judgement. She looks to Rick to see his input. "See what there is to see? Perhaps we can do the quiet way?"

"If we've got a quiet way of getting in, I'm all for it," replies Breach. He rolls his shoulders a little bit and hooks his thumbs into the suspenders of his combat harness. It's like watching a simple cornfed country grenadier consider his options. After a few moments, Breach shrugs again and intones, "No tellin' how many people they've got on guard while they clean out their mess. Stealth looks like the smart play to me."

Indira nods gently. "Then we go stealth. As best we can." Not that Indira is stealthy. Nor is she usually loud, though. She starts to march forward, maybe with no plan, towards the sump entrance, feeling around through the ground for activity. Silly Indira, trying to take the lead and forgetting she's supposed to be held back. Someone should stop Ms. Daisy.

"Well we already have a good idea of what's inside this place and we've got ourselves a pretty flower-patterned crowbar." Griffin says nodding to Indira. "I'm thinking we hit the computer lab- same play as last time... I can't imagine they'd think we'd hit them so hard so soon."

He asks Indira, "So this lab was over that way, right?" He asks pointing towards the general area Caleb described the computer lab's location in. "Think you can do that voodoo and put us in the middle of that room specifically?"

Griffin charges Indira, quickly covering the few steps she's made in less than the blink of an eye. "Woah- we plan first. Hit second, ma'am."

Breach feels glad that he's not the one pooping on Indira's parade today. He tugs on the suspenders to his combat harness as he watches Griffin try to (military) reason with Indira. Maybe he'll learn some new way of talking to Indira that will work better than his previous efforts. Who knows?

Indira halts as Griffin slows. She was listening to his plan. Perhaps she was mentally listening to it before he said it and was acting too soon. "I...my sorries, yes. Plan. I can get you there," she nods assertively.

"Alright- so first, let's avoid the lights, and get over there without being noticed." Griffin says.

He drops his cigar butt & says, "That means no marching, ma'am. Keep it low and keep it quiet."

He steps down low into a crouch and begins to creep along the outside of the perimeter set by the lights, taking a subtle yet direct route to the area he pointed out before.