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[Fiction] An Unwelcome Visitor
 
Matrix Dragon Wrote:As for banning him, I honestly doubt he'd earn that anywhere. It's more that sooner or later, even ISN won't put up with him.
It's sort of a multi-prong thing. 

On one hand/hoof, his status as a muckracker means he would be a profoundly destabilizing force in the NLR. They're trying to smooth over the cultural lines of their recruits and immigrants (american poor to poverty level all over, african refugees from the various wars and terrorist actions there the NLR will spend most of its foriegn policy trying to tamp out and launch a proper renessance on the continent, asian immigrants, general down-on-luck looking for a steady job and a better life for their family) and a muckracker could easily turn a volitle but currently stable situation into a pretty major issue.

Two, given that all the ponies are at least a little Mad (cutie mark focus when they have them), having a guy like him screaming it from the heavens and making up some story up about it would cause major problems within and without for the NLR. After the chaos of the professor, they don't need the convention or anyone else having any reason or leverage to get a control on what they do in. They would rather keep OGJ as far away from them as possible, since the group's leader is almost as bad as the Professor.

Three, 'don't start none, won't be none'. That, and R.Celestia just acting from experience on preventing a particularly ulcer-inducing individual from showing up. A lot of people are told 'no, go away' rather than having to put up with particularly prickly, annoying, or problematic guests, and the NLR tries to be relatively isolationist from convention and world affairs other than their african concerns.
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Pausing halfway through typing an email, Jeph considered the animated hand that had just appeared inside his computer monitor. As he watched, a version of Kitbash that looked like her anime adaptation, as opposed to her usual photorealism, pulled herself up into view, sitting on his task bar. "Don't you have better things to do?" he asked wryly.

"Eh, I'm multitasking," she replied, pulling a lunchbox out of nowhere and taking out a sandwich. "For starters, I'm passing on a message." Taking a bite of her lunch, she held up an appointment book in her other hand. "Dad made an appointment with Sheriff Roberts for later today, around three pm. The sheriff also suggested that, and this is direct quote by the way, 'stop pretending you're not involved and get your variable gender ass down here already.’"

"Ha!" Nene called out from where she was working on her laptop

"She's a rather lively person," the AI commented.

“That’s one way to put it,” the man agreed. “Is Chris still in that staff meeting?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to go into detail, but I think it’s going well. Maybe.” The other two people looked over, but she shrugged. “Sorry, part of my awareness is still trying to gauge their reactions.”

Nene thought about things for a moment, then decided to roll the dice. “How’d the call to your grandparents go? I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it-”

She didn’t even finish before Kitbash jumped to her feet, a massive grin on her face, narrowly avoiding bashing her head against a chat window Jeph had open in the process. “I have the best grandparents ever!” she announced. “I’ve always loved them, but today, they proved they were awesome!”

Leaning back in his chair, Jeph smiled at her delight. “Well, there’s a good sign,” he noted as Nene stood up and walked over.

“So, Mum was really nervous about making that call,” Kitbash told him, walking back and forth across his screen. “She was trying to act calm, but it looks like most of her tells have more or less the same starting point. When she gets really nervous, her nose itches. Even if she tries to ignore it, it starts twitching. She really doesn’t have a good poker face,” he noted to Jeph with a grin. “Probably didn’t help that we got them a ‘waved television for Christmas that does video calls.”

Suppressing a wince, Nene nodded. “I can see how that’d be a problem right now.”

“I know, right? It seemed like such a good idea at the time too,” she grumbled. “So, I was handling the call first. I thought that I might be able to explain it enough to at least lessen the impact. And then Poppa says that if I’m the one calling, the biomod must be pretty extreme.” Smiling, Kitbash stepped into the current wallpaper, leaning against the closest of Starbug 1’s legs. “He figured it could be anything from Catgirl to xenomorph, and no matter what, he was willing to deal with it.”

Considering that for a moment, Jeph paled slightly. “Are there any xenomorphs in Fenspace?” he wondered.

“I’d rather not know,” Nene replied.

Kitbash gave the pair an irritated look, then pushed on with the story. “So Dad gets on the screen, and, well, yeah, it didn’t just wash over them. But they dealt with it.” She smiled again, shaking her head. “They’re not Fen, they don’t deal with the Weird as much as we do. But when they have to, boy do they deal.” Clapping her hands together, she laughed, then quickly repositioned herself to avoid falling over as the wallpaper changed, jumping back onto the taskbar. “Gran even had even tracked down all the paperwork you need for a ‘handwavium induced physical condition change’ back home. She did that years ago, and kept it up to date for a rainy day.”

Laughing, Jeph glanced over at Nene. “Well, I’m impressed.”

“I know. So few people understand the need to plan ahead properly,” she agreed.

“They did rip her a new one over getting in that mess to start with, but Mum totally deserved that,” Kit noted with a smirk, “so I’m not complaining about her getting told off for it. I mean, she’d scold me it I was that reckless, right?”

Snorting, Jeph made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Hop onto another screen, could you? I am supposed to be working here,” he pointed out. Grinning, she stepped off-screen, appearing on his second monitor instead. “Thank you.”

Curious, Kitbash glanced back at the first monitor. “What’re you working on anyway?” Frowning, she ran a hand through her hair. “Or should I not be asking because I work for another company and looking too hard would be considered questionable?” she asked.

“It’s not JMC-related… sort of,” he replied. “I told your dad there’s a lot of noise on the SMOF channels over this mess. Well, I was keeping quiet there until I calmed down a little and thought about it.” Glancing over at the girl on the second monitor, he rolled his eyes. “Not everyone took the time to catch their breaths. It seems the Professor’s a more volatile issue than I realised.”

Leaning over Jephs shoulder to consider the email, Nene chuckled darkly. “Doesn’t help that a few of the SMOF crowd know Chris one way or another,” she commented. “It adds a little more impact to it when you can put a face to a disaster.”

Kitbash glanced over at the other monitor, then decided against going and taking a peek anyway, instead pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Hey, can I ask you guys something?” she asked, her voice now much more serious. “With Dad… Do you think she’s coping okay? I mean, she told me earlier she was a bit freaked out, and I know she’s not entirely comfortable, but…” She waved a hand, searching for words.

“I know what you mean,” Jeph replied, pausing in his typing. “And really, I’m not too sure. The thing is Kit, there’s no consistent way on how people react to biomods. Or even on how it affects people mentally.” He frowned, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “When you throw in gender and species changes, it’s even worse. I speak with some personal experience on the former issue,” he added wryly.

Resting against the desk, Nene looked over at the monitor. “I’ve known people who never managed to deal with their change,” she said, voice regretful. “It didn’t always end well there either. I’ve known people who adjusted one way or another, or just… deal with it. Like one guy who’s been physically female for about five years, but still considers himself male.” She smirked slightly at that, drawing an odd look from the other two, but continued before they could ask about it. “Then there are people that get changed, and feel and act normal. Could be one of a hundred reasons. Maybe they had identity issues beforehand and the ‘wave changed their bodies to match.”

“I can think of a few there,” Jeph agreed.

“And then there’s the people that the wave altered to fit their new bodies,” Nene said. Kitbashes eyes widened in alarm, but Nene smiled and patted the top of the monitor. “Not extensively. Think of it more as smoothing out any rough edges. Making it so they can handle who they are now. After all, depending on the biomod, that could be their body for a long time.”

“And that doesn’t mean it’s what happened to your dad,” Jeph pointed out. “It’s just a possibility. Whatever it turns out to be, we’ll just have to wait and see. And if and when she needs us, we’ll be there. All of us,” he promised the AI, who nodded slightly in gratitude.

Sighing, Nene stopped leaning on the desk and walked back over to her laptop. “I just wish Chris had met Takami before all this happened,” she complained. Kitbash gave her an odd look, while Jeph nodded thoughtfully, and she shrugged. “Look, she’s not the best at dealing with people… in fact, sometimes she’s hilariously hopeless,” she muttered, “And she’s got a lot to learn still, but her pattern-detection abilities are scary. She’s like some kind of freaking wizard at noticing things, even if she can’t always understand the context.”

“And she saw Chris as a woman,” Jeph mused. “Not just physically either…” He glanced at Kitbash, who had a thoughtful expression on her face. “And you’ve called her ‘Mum’ several times since you wandered into my computer,” he noted. She blinked, clearly having failed to notice that. “I’m going to give you the contact details for a few counsellors I know that have some experience with biomods, just in case she gets stubborn.”

Kit nodded slightly. “That might not be a bad idea…”
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To: "SMOF Net" (Recipients redacted)
From: "Jeph Antilles" (lordandmaster@jmc.fen)
Subj: RE: The Professor
Date: 2015.07.19-1407UTC

Figured I'd better say something now, before things fly any further off the handle than they already have. (Note: I know it's a lot worse in some of the general mailing lists. That doesn't mean it hasn't been bad here.) Chris is physically OK right now, which is about all I can say about that situation at the moment until some other things happen. There's a "town hall" meeting scheduled here that I've been basically told to be at, I'll be letting you guys know how that shakes out.

We did get some of our schedule here pretty disrupted from the evacuation - I'll admit that it was pretty much an overreaction on my part. It's not insurmountable - some shipments might be a day or so late - but I know some people are still going to be annoyed.

I'll also admit that... I'd say I lost my temper, but that would have required me to have been considerably less angry than I was right after Chris received "payment" for services rendered trying to do something right. I did not need to know that could pop me "out the other side" with the gender thing, but there you go. I've had to spend some time calming down, hence why it's taken me all this time to respond. Getting Chris from out from behind the media cordon (damned papparazzi and all) that's around the medical center helped with that.

I'm going to try my damndest to let Reilly and Company figure out on their own what to do with our new guests. Last I knew, The Professor was still utterly 'sleep through a space station exploding around him' unconscious. Glear, I haven't asked about directly, her presence is, honestly, going to be a bit of sore point for some of us here for a while. Whatever gets decided, I'm pretty sure it's not going to be enough for some of those 'Daneside that consider them - or anyone biomodded and mad - to be a threat to the stability of the 'verse. It's a thorny political issue that is, quite frankly, a little above my pay grade right now. But that's why Malcolm's here, this is stuff that's in his wheelhouse.

Again, more information when I feel I can get it out to you. I need to make sure all of us here in the Valley are on the same page before I go spreading information, so that I don't accidentally spread any MISinformation. We definitely don't need any of that right now.
--

"You know how parents tell you everything's going to fine, but you know they're lying to make you feel better? Everything's going to be fine." - The Doctor
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The elevator doors opened, Katie stepping out the moment she had enough space. “He woke up five minutes ago,” said the officer waiting for her. She walked straight past, and he turned to follow. “He was surprised to be tied down for about five seconds, then he just… calmed down. Stopped struggling, didn’t even look around. Then he asked for you.”

“For me?” she asked as another guard unlocked an armoured door.

“Not by name,” he admitted. “But he asked for the Sheriff.”

Katie nodded. “So, he remembers where he is. “That’s something I suppose.” Walking through one last door, she stepped into what looked a lot like a hospital ward, although with everything bolted down and the cabinets armored. At the other end of the relatively small room, the Professor was strapped into a reinforced hospital bed, his eyes locked on a fixed point on the ceiling. “Good afternoon Professor,” she said calmly. “I’m Katie Roberts, Sheriff of Serenity Valley.”

“Sheriff,” the man replied, his voice shockingly calm. “I realise there’s a lot going on, but could you at least untie me?” he asked. Raising his head, he met her eyes and said with a wry smile, “I promise to try and behave, but being restrained like this is something of an allergic reaction for me.”

Eyes narrowing, the vixen considered him thoughtfully, then glanced at the deputy. “Untie him.” He darted forward, fumbling with the straps, while Katie met the Professor's eyes again. “Do you know why you’re here?” she asked.

“Not entirely,” he admitted. “I do remember the Serenity militia being around before I fell asleep, although I’m not really sure why.” Sitting up, he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Did it have something to do with that odd fellow who was interfering in my research?” Climbing off the bed, he scowled. “Do you know who that man was? I need to file a complaint regarding his disrespectful and rude behaviour-”

Katie cut him off with the wave of her hand. “Professor, this isn’t Hades station. This is Serenity Valley. We have no laws that demand your research have priority above the well being and health of our citizens.” She suppressed a smirk at the man's mildly baffled expression. “However, we do have laws regarding trespassing, assault and attempted murder.” Eyes widening, the Professor tried to speak, but the Sheriff continued on before he could get a word out. “Captain Wood had rented that docking bay, and he had the legal right to refuse entry. You and your assistant responded with lethal force from the word go. It ended with a sentient droid losing a limb, and Captain Wood nearly dying from a chest wound that your minion caused.” Stepping closer, she glared up at the man, utterly failing to be intimidated by being nearly a foot shorter than he was. In fact, she used the opportunity to poke him hard in the chest, forcing him to back up slightly. “So to be honest, I don’t give a slightest damn about your research right now,” she snapped.

Blinking, the Professor looked down at her. “That man I performed an emergency biomod on?” he asked, eyes widening. “Miyu did that? Why did she do that? Wait, where is he?” he said suddenly. “I need to perform a full medical examination to document any changes the new strain caused-” He paused suddenly, shaking his head. “Right, sorry. I know you’re not in the mood for Science right now,” he apologised. “I get distracted there sometimes.” Closing his eyes, he took a breath.

“Sometimes?” one of the guards muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Eyes snapping open, the Professor pinned the man in place with a shockingly intense glare. “Do not mock what you can not understand Corporal,” the Professor warned. “Science, discovery, understanding. They are the core of my being, the embodiment of my soul. I dedicated my life to that eternal quest, and in doing so, I changed the world.” He stepped forward, his eyes still locked on the guards own. “I will not have it dismissed by a thug whose only purpose in life is to point a gun-” He paused, glancing at the reflection in the cabinet behind the guard, and turned slowly.

While he had been distracted, the Sheriff had opened up her duster, and now her left hand rested on the grip of one of the guns on her belt. “I suggest you step back Professor, or I will show you just how well I can point a gun,” she warned him, her voice level.

Meeting her eyes for a moment, the Professor considered her, then nodded slightly and stepped back towards the bed. “My apologies Sheriff,” he said quietly. “I meant no harm, I was just… offended.”

“You might want to get used to that,” Katie warned him, hand moving away from her sidearm. “There are a lot of people unhappy with you right now. Not just in Serenity Valley either. More than a few stations have already banned you, and your entire collection of minions, from their space. And I’m pretty sure some of them would be happy to back that up by kicking you out an airlock.” His eyes widened as he processed this, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Since you seemed unable to process it yesterday when there was a ship grade coilgun aimed at you, allow me to make it clear. You have been arrested and charged with criminal trespass, assault with a deadly weapon, destruction of public property and harassment. The decision was made for your trial to be delayed until you woke up. Now that you’ve done so, Mayor Reilly will schedule the trial, most likely for later this week.”

“Later this week?” the Professor managed. “But I-” he cut himself off, shaking his head, then nodded slightly. “I understand,” he said, his tone much calmer than he usually managed.

“The mayor has requested a physiological evaluation, in order to determine if you are fit to stand trial, and to help determine what actions will be taken in the event of a guilty verdict,” the Sheriff continued, watching the Professor’s expression shift as he considered her words. It seemed there was some truth to the stories that his instabilities were directly linked to his time awake, as it appeared his eccentric tendencies were almost completely suppressed. “That will take place later today. Your assistant, Miss Asakura, is currently attempting to find you a lawyer. Should she prove unsuccessful, one will be provided by the local government.” The Professor nodded, his shoulders slumping as understanding sunk in. “In the meantime, for both your safety and the safety of others, you will have to remain here. Do you understand?”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded. “I understand Sheriff. I will do my best to restrain myself.” Nodding in faint satisfaction, Katie turned and walked back towards the door. “Sheriff?” Pausing, the vixen turned back towards him. “What about Miyu? Is she alright?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

Looking at him for a moment, Katie took pity on the man. “Her injuries were relatively minor. TeeSeven-Oh-One shot her, but the bullet only damaged her skin layer and glanced off the frame underneath. The wound has already been treated, and shouldn’t leave a scar. As for her legal situation, her charges are much the same as yours… with an addition of lethal force resulting in biomod,” she noted, barely keeping the growl out of her voice. The Professor flinched slightly as he considered that. “Ryoko is looking for a lawyer for her too… but she’s having a harder time of it. Running someone through on system wide television tends to do that.”

That last sentence made the Professor back up slightly, his brain working through the information. After a moment, he shook his head sadly. “Thank you Sheriff… and I’m sorry for all of this. I just…” he shrugged, looking up at her again. “I was just checking up on an old experiment.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Katie replied, “that the Friez never asked for what you did to them? Or that they don’t want to be part of your experiments?” His expression shifted, confusion settling in, and she smiled sadly. “Think about that for a while.”
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Sighing in relief, Chris watched as her ship settled down onto its landing struts. “Ahhh… home sweet home,” she said with a smile.
“And I think at least a third of your stress just went away,” Jeph commented.
“Damn right it did,” she replied as the Void Eagles engines powered down and the landing ramp began to lower. “My ship’s out of that hanger, and it’s never going back there.” She shivered slightly, wrapping her hands around herself for a moment. “I am never going back to that room if I can avoid it.”
“That’s fair,” Nene agreed. “I still think you need to look into a dedicated facility for this far out.”
She shrugged. “Once the Nebula Hawk is paid off,” she said, starting to walk over towards the ship. “Then I can look into building something out here. And it’ll probably be here somewhere,” she added with a grin as the others followed. “Mimas is tempting, I admit, but I do far more work here.”
Jeph raised an eyebrow. “I thought the Warsies would jump at shipping on a genuine, licensed from Lucasarts, Star Wars freighter,” he said.
“Some do,” Chris admitted. “But the simple fact is, they don’t export enough yet to make it worth it.” She grinned. “The local farms are way more profitable.” Jeph laughed, nodding in agreement as the Friez siblings stepped down the ramp. “Hi guys!” the Orion chirped, waving, then giggled as they both skidded to a halt, eyes wide.
“...C-Chris?” Jules managed, looking over the smaller woman. “Is that…?”
“Eyup,” she grinned, posing slightly. “Behold, the price of doing a good deed. How do I look?”
“Gorgeous,” Julian mumbled, then shook his head, looking away. “Uh, sorry.”
Chris took pity on him, stepping forward and patting him on the arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’d kinda noticed that already anyway. But, either I try and roll with it, or I curl up into a ball and cry for a few days.”
Suppressing a stab of envy as she looked her friend over, Jules raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably going to do that at some point anyway,” she warned. Chris looked over at her, then nodded in sad agreement.
Shoulders slumping, Julian looked down at her. “Dammit Chris. I’m sorry. If we hadn’t-” Chris raised a hand, cutting him off.
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this Julian. If this is the price of protecting my friends, so be it. If you need to blame someone, blame Glear. Okay?” Julian didn’t reply immediately, looking over his friend again. At last though, he nodded slowly, and she smiled faintly, taking what she could. “Good. Now, where’s Tee?”
came the reply from the top of the landing ramp. Chris glanced past her friends, then gasped at the sight of her astromech droid, sitting on top of a mechanics creeper, right leg joint nothing more than a collection of jagged metal and cut wires. he added with a cheerful beep.
“Ohmygod!” Chris exclaimed, shoving past the Friez and running up the ramp. Kneeling down next to her friend, she scowled. “Why didn’t anyone tell me it was this bad?” she demanded.
T7-01 replied, his other leg twitching in a shrug. He looked his captain over, optic glowing brighter as he saved his scans to memory.
Glancing up from the leg joint, Chris glared at him. “Not distracting me from this buddy. Kit…”
“Hey, Tee insisted he’d be fine until we were able to bring the ship around,” her daughter protested via the ships external speakers, although everyone noted this time she failed to manifest her avatar. “And we didn’t really want to worry you with everything else going on…”
Jules took over the defense, holding up a tablet. “And he did make a list of the repairs and parts he’d need,” she offered. “The kid sent that over to JMC last night…”
declared the R2 unit that was rolling towards the ship, towing a small trailer of parts behind him. R2-G0 snarked.
“Geo...” Jeph warned.
“Keep going trash can,” Chris laughed, standing up and walking back down the ramp to collect the parts. Pausing, she leaned down next to his audio inputs and said sweetly, “If I do get a job there, I’ll be putting you in a 33-S and bringing you along for the ride.”
he shot back.
“Don’t be so sure,” Nene replied, an innocent smile on her face.
Geo paused, looking between the two women as they walked back up the ramp and knelt down next to T7, then made a beep that even the Friez could translate as “Eep.”
Smirking, the Orion started unscrewing panels while Nene checked the notes. At the bottom of the ramp, Jeph snorted and glanced at the Friez. “Could I get a hand with the cargo door?” he asked.
While the Friez followed Antilles, T7 looked back at Chris again. he said quietly. Looking up, Chris gave him a baffled look.
She patted his head. “You did the best you could Tee,” she assured him. “I didn’t think she’d be willing to escalate things that far either. So, don’t worry too much, hmm?” T7 took a moment to consider that, then nodded slightly.
Geo called out.
“It’s not on my to-do list,” Chris replied, smirking.

Chris and Nene looked at each other, the Orion rolling her eyes, forcing Nene to suppress a giggle.
***
“All set,” Dan said, lifting up the camera and resting it on his shoulder. “Stand by.” John Simmons nodded, taking a breath and reviewing the story in his head one last time. This was it. The opportunity to restore his career, show the entire system the truth about the monsters the fools in charge ignored, and reclaim the fame and glory that should be his.
“And now we’re going back to Serenity Valley,” the newsreaders voice said in his ear, “where there has apparently been a new development in the Professor crisis. On the ground is John Simmons. John, what’s the latest?
Expression level, John stared into the camera. “Sarah, I’m currently outside the offices of the Jupiter Mining Corporation here in Serenity Valley, where the Secret Master of Fenspace Jeph Antilles has been attempting to cover up evidence of the Professors crimes, and interfering in the ongoing criminal investigation.” He could imagine the confusion in the newsroom, as they realized he was going off-script, and he had to fight to resist the urge to smirk at the thought. Smug bastards had it coming. “Officially, Christopher Wood, fatally wounded during the Professors rampage yesterday, remains in hospital and hasn’t yet awakened from the biomod coma caused by the injection of an unknown and possibly experimental strain of Handwavium. However, it appears that he is awake, and that Mister Antilles has attempted to mislead the media and public, due to the drastic, and questionable, nature of Mister Woods transformation.”
***
Chris and Nene were just lifting T7 off the creeper when a shriek of rage echoed across the hanger. “Guys! Get in here!” Kitbash screamed. Chris, Nene and T7 sprinted for the ships living quarters. Jeph, the Friez and Geo ran through the cargo bay instead, and in seconds, they all arrived to see the main holoterminal in 2D television mode, showing ISN’s news coverage.
“It’s the mudraker,” Jeph muttered. “What the hell is he up to now?” His question was answered almost as soon as he spoke, the image changing to security footage from the hospital, showing Jeph and Nene quietly getting Chris out of the building unnoticed. “Ohhh shit.”
“Earlier today, Jeph Antilles and his Android assistant Nene Romanov smuggled the transformed Chris Wood out of MacDonald Memorial Hospital, attempting to suppress details of the change the Professor inflicted on her,” John Simmons continued in his best ‘serious concern’ voice. “Security footage, along with details from other sources-” as he spoke, the image changed again, this time showing phone recorded footage of Nene and Chris talking, “-has revealed Chris to have experienced an extreme biomod. All indications are that he has become an Orion Slave Girl from the classic science fiction show Star Trek.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jeph snapped, his voice raising in pitch mid-curse as she shifted.
“That’s from inside our offices,” Nene realized, eyes widening in horror.
“... Slave girl?” Chris whispered, face paling, hands starting to tremble.
“At less than five feet tall,” Simmons noted, “and with a body designed for nothing more than sexual pleasure, it would appear that Chris Wood is no longer in a position to ever interfere with the Professor’s experiments again. On top of that, there is evidence that the biomod has caused an extreme personality shift-”
Geo demanded.
“-in line with her new physical reality. And the question must be asked, was this deliberate?” The footage changed again, going from Chris, giggling and playing with a lock of hair as she spoke to Jeph, to the previous day, with the Professor ramming a needle full of handwavium into the dying mans chest. Chris shrieked as she saw it, stumbling back into Nene’s arms and nearly collapsing.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Jules demanded. “This isn’t news! This is-”
“This is the sort of thing you expect from the man that claimed the Turnerites were invading,” Jeph snarled. “Sensationalist crap. The better question is ‘what is ISN doing?’”
“The Professor caused this change,” Simmons noted. “None of the handwavium he injected into Miss Wood remains to allow the strain to be identified. Is her new existence as a Slave Girl his intention? Punishment for her meddling? And why is one of the Secret Masters of Fenspace attempting to cover this up? Why is Jeph Antilles protecting the Professor by trying to bury this?”
Growling, the SMOF in question glared at the image of John Simmons. “Oh you stupid, shit slinging, paparazzi wannabe,” she snarled. “I am going to end you.”
It seemed that someone at ISN had realized the hand grenade Simmons had just thrown at their network, as the signal briefly cut out, returning to a now nervous looking Sarah Earl, the anchorwoman grabbing at her composure with professional determination. “And we appear to be having some interwave issues with Ganymede,” she commented with a completely straight face. “We’ll try and get John back as soon as possible…”
Groaning, Julian facepalmed. “Well, that was career suicide,” he commented. “How the hell did that moron become a reporter?”
Nene snorted, still holding onto Chris. “He got out here back in the early days,” he said, “back when Fenspace didn’t really have a media. The idiot never managed to get his bachelor's degree in journalism back Earthside, so he went somewhere he thought he could get away with it…”
“Slave girl,” Chris repeated, horror fading from her voice and replaced by fury.
“uhhhh…”
“Slave girl!” she snarled. “Property! Sex toy!” Furious now, she shoved free of Nene. “Kit, where is the bastard?!”
“Um, out the front of JMC,” Kitbash replied before she stopped to think. Snarling, her mother ran for the landing ramp, murder in her eyes. Just before she got out of the living quarters however, Jeph reached her, clamping both her hands around the smaller womans waist and lifting her off the ground.
Holding the new screaming figure at arms length, Jeph stepped back slightly, making sure there was nothing the girl could reach. “Chris, focus!” she snapped, trying to cut through the rage. “As much as he deserves it, you can’t just kill the bastard. Just calm down!”
The rage burnt itself out quickly, the tiny figure going limp in Jephs arms. Carefully, she lowered Chris to the ground, then stepped in close. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “He’s going to pay…”
Sniffling, Chris rubbed at her eyes. “I’m not… I’m not that,” she whimpered. “Not a slave girl, not just a…” Geo twitched, remembering their earlier joke, but Jeph paid her astromech little attention, pulling the Orion into a gentle hug.
“Most definitely not,” she agreed.
***
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“Oh God dammit,” Mayor Reilly muttered as ISN News went to a rather hasty commercial break. “Did they have to try the old ‘communication difficulties’ excuse?”

“I don’t think they had many other options,” Katie pointed out. “Not when their reporter starts claiming there’s an evil conspiracy at work.”

Snorting, Malcolm turned back towards his desk. “This is Fenspace Sheriff. Idiots screaming into the void? That’s a normal day. No one gives the slightest damn. But when someone tries to shut them up?” He sighed, dropping into his chair. “We’re going to have idiots convinced we’re trying to suppress the Moron That Cried Turnerite.”

Pausing, Katie gave him a baffled look. “Cried what?”

He grinned at her, no humor in the expression. “Do you remember, back during the War, the story about how an evil army of white supremacists were preparing to invade after Great Justice and the Reavers had battered each other to exhaustion?” he asked. “And that they were starting out by taking over colony domes here on Ganymede and murdering anyone that didn’t meet their standards of humanity?”

Eyebrows rising, Katie glanced back over at the projector. “This is that idiot?” she demanded. The Mayor merely nodded. “And he’s still a reporter?” He nodded again. “How?!”

“Damned if I know,” he muttered. “He’s even more willing to make shit up now, it seems.” Shaking his head in disgust, he leaned back in his chair. “Claiming Jeph is attempting a cover up to protect the Professor by trying to keep the media off Captain Woods back, for gods sake.” Frowning, he considered that for a moment. “Assuming that even is Chris Wood in that video, now that I think about it. We don’t know what his biomod is, after all.”

“It is,” Katie confirmed, smirking slightly at her boss's expression.. “I spoke to her earlier while arranging for her to come in so I could take her statement,” she explained.

“Ah… Damn. So, got the genderswap, and a rare and exotic species. Poor bastard,” he muttered. “Okay, since I know those reporters out there are going to ask now,” he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of city halls front steps, “what are the odds any of Simmons gibberish was actually the Professor’s goal there?”

“Probably on the other side of none,” the Sheriff replied, rolling her eyes. “He let slip earlier it was a new strain of handwavium, and he wanted to document the results, but at the same time, he honestly didn’t realise the person he’d performed an emergency biomod on, and the man stopping him him from studying one of his experiments were the same person.” Taking in the Mayor's expression, she laughed and claimed a chair. “No, seriously. If it wasn’t for me explaining to him why he was under arrest, he’d probably have dismissed it completely and gone on to do something more interesting, like working out how to make miniature suns or some other crap.” Resting her feet on a second chair, he shrugged. “The man doesn’t understand the concept of vengeance.”

Nodding, the man put on his reading glasses and glanced down at his paperwork. “Well, that’s something I can use. You can’t think of anything else for when I deal with the reporters? Or even just ISN’s executives?” he added.

Scratching at an ear, Katie considered that, then nodded. “Yeah, actually. That hospital security footage. That has to be stolen. Athena?”

“I have already begun a security evaluation of MacDonald Memorial’s computer systems,” the

AI replied via the comm terminal on Malcolms desk.

“Thank you.”

“Look into that and anything else the idiot might be up to,” the Mayor said. “I’ll deal with the media. What time is Captain Wood going to be here?”

“Three pm, same as Jeph. I figured worst case, we could make one meeting out of it.”

“Smart woman… now, stop sitting around and get back to juggling plates,” he said with a weak smile, making shooing motions. Katie rolled her eyes, but rose to her feet and headed for the door.

***
(And with that, my vacation time ends and it's back to work with me. I suspect I'll be slowing down the writing at least a little now.)
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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

In light of developments over the last three years that have called into question the neutrality and veracity of multiple ISN news reports, Stellvia Corporation is withdrawing the press credentials previously granted to ISN as a company, effective immediately.

Until and unless their reporters are individually granted press credentials, ISN will no longer have access to Stellvia Corporation, Artemis Foundation, and Nikaido Foundation news conferences. Interviews may or may not be granted to ISN reporters by individual senior employees of those organizations, at the employees' discretion.

Stellvia Corporation President Noah Scott commented "We regret the necessity of taking this action. The activities of the Artemis and Nikaido Foundations are of importance to the entirety of the Convention, and must be reported in an accurate manner. It is less important to the Convention that Stellvia Corporation be represented fairly, but this is still important to the corporation's business partners. This action is being taken because of the actions of a small number of irresponsible news personalities at ISN, and should not be taken as a comment on the professionalism of their serious reporters."

-30-

--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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A music video appears upon Fentube and other video sites. Created and posted by someone named Holodog. Featuring cleverly spliced footage of John Simmons to sync him to the lyrics of the song "Dirty Laundry" by Don Henley.

"Breaking News on ISN!"

*video*

"John Simmons bringing you the Dirty Laundry directly from the scene!"
_______________________________________________________________
Characters
Sabre Fang
Dakota
Warning:
Dihydrogen monoxide
Containment Vessel








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He'd fit right in with News Corporation...
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When I finish this fic, and go back to clean it up and revise it a bit, I suspect I'll give Johnny a few earlier appearances, establish his poor reporting ethics and conclusion leaping a bit better.
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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
In light of developments over the last three years that have called into question the neutrality and veracity of multiple ISN news reports, Stellvia Corporation is withdrawing the press credentials previously granted to ISN as a company, effective immediately.
Until and unless their reporters are individually granted press credentials, ISN will no longer have access to Stellvia Corporation, Artemis Foundation, and Nikaido Foundation news conferences. Interviews may or may not be granted to ISN reporters by individual senior employees of those organizations, at the employees' discretion.
Stellvia Corporation President Noah Scott commented "We regret the necessity of taking this action. The activities of the Artemis and Nikaido Foundations are of importance to the entirety of the Convention, and must be reported in an accurate manner. It is less important to the Convention that Stellvia Corporation be represented fairly, but this is still important to the corporation's business partners. This action is being taken because of the actions of a small number of irresponsible news personalities at ISN, and should not be taken as a comment on the professionalism of their serious reporters."
***
ISN NEWS STUDIOS, CRYSTAL KYOTO, VENUS.
Throwing the door open, Lucas Miller stormed into his boss’s office, waving a printout. “Have you seen this shit?” he demanded. “What the hell is Scott thinking?”
Looking up, Tamara Barnes glared at her employee, burning away the man's anger and making him back up slightly. “He’s thinking that ISN can’t be trusted to report the news,” she replied, her voice low and angry. “And right now, as much as I would love to try and argue that fact with him, I have to admit, I can see his point.” Tail lashing, the catgirl rose to her feet and pointed at one of the television monitors on her office wall, which was currently frozen on the image of John Simmons. “We’re too far away from Ganymede for me to bother trying to get an answer out of that imbecile,” she commented, “so I’ll have to get it out of you instead. What in all the Hells was that?!”
Backing up another step, Miller raised his hands. “I swear Tam, I don’t know what John was thinking. He told me that Wood was awake, and they’d gotten images of her new form. It was meant to be a one minute update, nothing more.” Shaking his head, he glanced over at the image of their current headache, looking baffled. “That other shit, about the Professor making her some sort of slave girl to punish her? I don’t have a damn clue that came from. I mean, all we’ve got is a few minutes of video, and that’s Wood talking to someone she sees as a friend. And, well…” he hesitated, then waved a hand in his friends direction. “I remember how your body language shifted right afterwards.”
That comment earned him another glare, but there was a lot less fire in it this time. “Right. Okay. You didn’t know he was about to be an idiot. That still doesn’t explain why he was an idiot,” she noted, closing her eyes for a moment and trying to think.
“Oh, that’s easy,” commented a third voice. Leaning against the doorframe, Robert Parker smirked slightly at the pairs curious expressions. “John’s naturally a fucking moron.”
Sighing, Tamara gave the newsreader an irritated look. “I’m well aware how you feel about him,” she began, but the man raised a hand.
“I’m sorry boss, but you don’t, not really. And it’s not really your fault either,” he admitted. “Most of it’s from before either of you joining the network, and until this, John’s done pretty well at not making you look any closer.” Smirking slightly, he shrugged. “Which is why you’ve been muttering about us dropping all the scut work on him,” he added, stepping into the office.
Grumbling to herself, Tamara leaned back in her chair. “Can’t keep anything quiet in a newsroom,” she muttered.
Rob chuckled lightly. "Noticing things is what we do," he agreed. "We always stuck him with the crap jobs because we don't trust him." The catgirl raised an eyebrow, and he scowled. "We don't trust him because he's not a reporter, not really. He came to space in the first place because he couldn't manage to get his degree, and he thought he could bypass it by getting in one the ground level in the new networks up here." Disgust flickering across his features, he claimed one of the office chairs. "John doesn't get what it means to be a reporter, he never has. He doesn't gather information and build the news from that. He comes up with a story, and makes the facts he has try and fit into that."
"Like the Turnerite mess," Tamara realised, sighing in irritation.
"Constance deserves some of the blame for that," Rob noted. "But at least she'll admit it. Hell, she learnt from the experience. It's why she's got the morning show now. John though..." Folding his hands behind his head, he snorted. "Christ, you should have heard him freaking whine about it after Fnord and Suzumiya dug up the true story there. He was still convinced that he was in the right, and Great Justice was just trying to screw him over out of envy or some shit."
Lucas frowned, considering that. Having only been hired by ISN six months ago, a lot of this was news to him, the sort that even the relentless gossip of reporters seemed unable or unwilling to dig up. He'd known about the Turner incident, of course. It was an important, if embarrassing, moment in the network's history. But before today, he'd only thought of John Simmons as the sulky man that never really socialised, and was usually running all over the system doing the odd jobs that no one else wanted.
He'd known that Simmons had been looking for an opportunity to grab the spotlight and get his career back on track, but he'd never realized just what sort of tabloid-style antics the man considered acceptable, or how desperate he'd been. Looking at the disgust on Roberts face, Lucas had to wonder how much of that desperation had been brought about from the mans own ego and carelessness, and how much came from the actions and attitudes of his coworkers.
Then again, at this point, his job wasn’t to ask why the man had been so stupid, it was to deal with the consequences of said stupidity. “I’ve sent Lake a message,” he said. “She should be on her way to Ganymede by now. I’ll have her take over the on-location reporting as soon as she gets there.”
“We’ll just have to put up with a gap,” Tamara said. “Get in contact with Simmons. I want him in the van and on his way back here, right the hell now.” She growled, ears flattening against her head. “If he gives you any attitude, make it clear that if he’s not in front of my desk by tomorrow morning, I’ll hand him over to Antilles gagged and bound!”
“Boss?” her secretary called from outside her office door. “Simon Anders from the Royal Press Office is on Line Two.”
“Dammit. Thanks Xel.” Picking up the handset, she glared at the two men. “Get going!” she snapped, before her voice became calmer, professional. “Hello Simon, I can guess why you’re calling…”
***
JUPITER MINING CORPORATION CENTRAL OFFICES, SERENITY VALLEY, GANYMEDE
“For Gorram's sake! I can see PRECISELY WHY he never got his Bachelor's degree in journalism, and that's probably because he would have been DEATHLY FUCKING ALLERGIC to the ethics courses that I can tell you I personally fucking survived! He's barely worthy of a fucking tabloid!" Myk ran a hand down his face, forcing himself to calm down, relatively. "Makes me ashamed that I never used the degree myself. Please tell me we've got a way to fucking end him if fucking ISN doesn't finally fucking kick him out the fucking goddamned door like they should have with the Turnerite Invasion Fiasco."
"Work in progress," Jeph said, pretty much ignoring the sheer mass of profanity that had just filled the air. "We've got a press release already prepped al'a Stellvia, with an added helping of 'ISN is not welcome to use our transports'. Malcolm's hands are a little more tied, but I'm pretty sure he'll find ways to make ISN's life hell without looking like they're being singled out. I'm half tempted to send them the laundry bill for my shirt, too."
Myk raised an eyebrow, but didn't make any more comment on the last point. He took in one long, drawn breath, then let it out loudly. "I will say, this was the last thing anyone needed. At least everyone else had the respect to at least let the polite fiction stand." Jeph raised a matching eyebrow over her monitor. "Jeph, you better not think there's any reporter in the Black that doesn't know that you call the shots around here, right? The difference is most of them recognize the lack of etiquette involved in calling you out because you don't abuse the fucking privileges that come with it." Myk chuckled darkly. "I kind of suspect that, if nothing else, Simmons is going to find most of his professional relationships freezing out on him just from that, even if ISN does the stupid thing and keep him on."
Geo replied from the door. As usual, he completely ignored the glare Jeph sent his way, rolling into the room and pushing the door shut behind him. Rolling over to Jeph’s desk, he plugged into a data port on the side. Leaning back in her chair, Jeph watched as her browser opened a new tab and loaded up Facebook. Geo explained while Jeph scrolled past the video and into the comments section.
Scowling, Jeph skimmed the comments. “So, simple bad luck?” she muttered. “I’ll still want to talk to him later. We’ve got rules on video recording in the workplace for valid reasons…” she smiled slightly. “Okay, this isn’t the usual reason, but it’s still one to consider.” The scowl came back. “Not to mention…” She waved a hand at the screen.
Geo agreed dryly.
“I’m not going to like this, am I… Oh god dammit,” Jeph muttered, facepalming.
Now well and truly curious despite his common sense, Myk stepped around the desk and looked over his friends shoulder. A moment later, his own scowl returned. “Oh for fucks sake… Really?” he complained, waving a hand at the growing collection of homophobic and sexist comments.
Geo snarked.
“This is all Chris needed right now,” Jeph sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Her day just keeps getting worse.” She glanced at her watch. “And I need to get moving. You guys mind the fort, alright?” Closing the window and standing up, she paused. “Don’t jump on the kid yet. I’ll give him a talking to later,” she noted. Myk grumbled but nodded. “Geo, send that link to Sheriff Roberts and Kitbash.”
the astromech asked.
“She’s got more PR skills than she lets on,” Jeph replied, grabbing her jacket. “And it’s better she knows now, rather than having it dropped on her by some dumbass in the media.”

Heading for the door, Jeph paused with one arm in her jacket. “Where are Nene and Chris, anyway?”
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Send lawyers, guns and money. The shit has hit the fan.
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To: "Jeph Antilles" (lordandmaster@jmc.fen)
From: Wolfboy@Stelvia.fen
Re: helping

Jeph, I know I don't know the Whole Story, but I'm sitting LEO at the moment and Loviatar and I are about to do our de-orbit burn to land. Tell Chris that if he needs anything from Daneside brought that way just let me know. I'll get it out to him quickest. Hell for that matter if you and Nene want anything give me a ping and I'll grab it. Remember, one ping only please

James "Wolfboy" Bostwick
 
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Moaning in delight, Chris slumped back across the couch, closing her eyes. "MMmmmm..." she managed, savouring the delightfully fresh cheesecake.

Chuckling, Nene reached over and took another strawberry from the bowl. "Well, I think someone approves," she noted, dipping it in the chocolate.

Looking over from where she was savoring her own strawberries, Jules gave the blonde an admiring look. "Just where are you getting these from?" she asked, trying to keep her purring to a minimum. "So fresh..."

"There's a farm dome about three hundred miles out," Nene replied, pausing to take a bite. "When I heard what they were trying to grow, I had to step in and back them, obviously..."

"Obviously," the Orion sighed, almost lustfully, as she took another bite of her own snack. "Mmmm... and the wonderful cheesecake?" She managed to ask, licking her lips.

Looking over the curvaceous figure, Nene swallowed despite herself. "Now, that's in Serenity Valley itself. There's this lovely little shop that bakes all their own goods." She smirked slightly. "I've helped them out a little, but I'm a little paranoid about sharing too much information. After all, I need something to bribe A.C. with." Chris glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised, and the blonde grinned. "Don't worry, I trust you not to abuse that knowledge."

Ears perking up, Jules gave Nene a hopeful look. "You're not going to neglect me, are you?" she asked, voice wavering adorably.

"That's a dirty trick," the other woman replied with a mock scowl. Jule's only response was to widen her eyes slightly, pout a little deeper, and generally look much cuter and helpless. "Guh, fine, I'll share. Just turn off the adorbs!" she cried, covering her eyes with her hand, causing the other three women to start laughing and giggling.

After a moment, the laughter was interrupted by an indignant squeak of protest. Turning towards the door, they saw Jeph standing there, hands on her hips. "Oh that is just not fair," she grumbled. "I'm off being the mature adult, and here you lot are, lazing around and enjoying the really nice cheesecake."

Jules raised one finger. "Point of order, if you please," she said. "Only Chris is really going after the cake. I'm falling in love with the strawberries."

JMC's lord and mistress gave her an amused look. "That really doesn't help make me feel better," she noted.

On the table, Kitbashes avatar raised a hand. "Another point of order. I'm not eating. Kinda can't, if I'm honest. I'm only here for the social interaction."

Jeph pouted. "I was still stuck working," she complained, before darting forward and stealing several of Nene's strawberries before the smaller woman could react, grinning playfully at her protests.

Still looking horribly relaxed, Chris merely smiled. "Oh, we’re working too," she told her friend. "We were just a little smarter about it. We’re working on Void Shipping's official press release for the past few days, since apparently my gender and skin color is newsworthy," she said dryly. “And it occurred to us that this was the sort of thing that needs to be done while suitably relaxed. And since I don’t drink, we needed another method.”

“I prefer this approach,” Jules added. “Much more relaxing.”

Kitbash simply shrugged. “I’ve got no way to compare the two.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “There’s got to be a sim program for that around somewhere… Food,” she quickly added at her parents look. “I’m not sure I want to try alcohol.”

Picking up the phone projector, Jeph grinned. “Well, go ahead and google it later. For now, get your shoes back on Chris. We’re due at City Hall in a little bit.”

Blinking, Chris sat up. “Already? Huh.” Stretching, she climbed to her feet, then looked around Nene’s living room. Frowning thoughtfully, she headed for the front door. “Where did I leave them…”

Jeph watched her go, then glanced at Nene. “You are a genius,” she said quietly.

“Jennifer's cheesecake is a wonder of the ‘verse,” Nene replied. “Of course it could help here.”

***

ISN NEWS STUDIOS, CRYSTAL KYOTO, VENUS.

Putting the phone down, Tamara sighed, running a hand down her face. “Dammit dammit dammit…”

“Bad?” Robert asked from the doorway, making the catgirl jump slightly. “Crap. Sorry,” he added.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” she muttered. “There’s good news and bad. The good news is that the Crystal Millennium isn’t immediately revoking our press credentials or our interweave broadcast license.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “They’re not Noah Scott, they need to discuss such things like an actual democracy. The bad news is that Queen Serenity herself is apparently pretty irritated with us, and that ass from Crystal Seattle has already put us on the List for discussion in parliaments next debate session.” Sighing at the thought of Venus’s isolationist movement deciding they were a valid target, she leaned forward and rested her head on her hands. “So, what’ve you got to drop on me?”

“Well, for starters, Void Shipping issued a press release,” he commented, holding up the first of several printouts he was holding. “There’s not really much to it, for the most part. It’s a nice, bland statement that basically says nothing on the grounds Captain Wood wants to actually give the police his official statement over yesterday's events first, and he still hasn’t had the chance to do that.” Tamara started to ask a question, but Robert beat her to the answer. “No mention of us by name. It does confirm he’s gotten ker-girled and the green skin, so that video John found almost certainly was him.”

“Ker-girled?” Tamara asked despite herself.

“It’s a technical term the Sammies use,” he replied dryly. “Oh, one thing we need to keep in mind. The press release used the term ‘Orion’, not ‘Orion Slave Girl’.”

The catgirl laughed bitterly. “Well of course it did. The concept of ‘Slave Girl’ has certain implications that anyone that’s not a freaking idiot would notice.” Her large, black-furred ears twitched as she said that, grabbing her employees attention. He winced, reminded of just where those ears had come from, but Tamara continued on before he had time to consider it. "Make it clear to any of our people covering this that I expect them to show some common sense regarding the species name."

"Already done," he assured her, then pressed on. "The other thing I wanted to bring up was that the Research department gave me their report on Captain Wood." He sighed, shaking his head as he flipped through the papers in his hands. "You know, I always thought of John as an idiot with too much fondness for filling in the blanks with fiction, but this is kind of sad. He's managed to find a 'conspiracy' that actually exists, but managed to be completely wrong about their goal."

Frowning, Tamara sat up straighter in her chair. "I'm not sure I follow."

"He's claiming Antilles is trying to protect the Professor," Rob noted, "when anyone with a functional brain can tell he's simply helping a friend. And he's not the only one." He smirked at the surprised look on his boss's face. "Captain Chris Wood and Void Shipping seem to have connections to quite a few SMOFs," he said. "Stellvia has them under contract for several of their major routes, including Artemis and Nikaido related projects. JMC outsources to them on a regular basis. He's been a regular poster on Schroecks forums since before Grover's Corner launched, so on and so on.”

Reaching over her desk, Tamara grabbed the papers out of Roberts hands.”Give me that,” she demanded, spreading them out in front of her. “Not quite a Big Name Fen, but damn close,” she muttered. “How have we never heard of him before yesterday?”

“Not everyone’s interested in being known across the ‘Verse,” Robert shrugged. “For every Haruhi or Noah, I could name half a dozen Chris Woods, simply living their lives unnoticed. If yesterday hadn’t happened, I think he’d have quite happily gone on running his company.” He leaned forward, expression thoughtful. “But what I’m getting at is that we might be able to show the actions people are taking against ISN are unjustified.”

Eye narrowing, Tamara glanced up at him. “Argue that Scott and the like are just retaliating to one of their friends being reported on?” she asked. Robert nodded, although he did look reluctant, and she shook her head. “No. It’s tempting, I admit. The old battlecry of ‘Freedom of the Press’ and all that, but out here... “ she shook her head again. “No. The truth always comes out. The AIs make sure of that, if nothing else. And media freedom doesn’t excuse bad journalism. Besides,” she muttered, “this one, I think we brought on ourselves.”

Robert shrugged, conceding the point, then glanced towards the doorway as Lucas appeared in it, a panicked look on his face. “Johns’s pulling another stupid stunt,” he said quickly.

“What?!” the catgirl snarled, ears going flat against her head.

“He’s still in Serenity Valley,” the man replied, stepping inside. “I know he got the email to get back here, but he just sent a message to the newsroom. Antilles and Wood just left the JMC offices, and he’s following them to try and get a statement.”

Horror spreading over her features, Tamara dropped back into her chair. “Holy christ,” she whispered. “What the hell is he thinking?”

“The same thing he was thinking when he started this crap,” Robert answered, running a hand through his hair. “That he’s being bold and daring, seizing the initiative. If we don’t broadcast whatever he’s about to do, I’ll bet he’s planning on trying to find a way to get it out there, and probably claim we’re oppressing him in the process.”

Facepalming, Tamara moaned. “God dammit! Anything he does right now is going to splash all over us, even if we never touch it…”

Pulling an iPad from his jacket pocket, Lucas frowned. “We need to get a press release out there,” he said. “Make it as clear as we can that his actions and opinions aren’t supported by ISN-” he paused as his boss twitched, sitting straight up, eyes wide and tail sticking up. “Tam?”

“Not a press release,” she said quietly. “We don’t want to do it like the ‘Danes would. We do this Fen style.” A grin began to form, a terrifying mix of playful and savage. “Loud, proud, and about as subtle as Haruhi,” she noted, searching through the papers scattered across her desk with one hand, the other reaching for her phone.

***

SERENITY VALLEY, GANYMEDE

Glancing at the side mirror, Nene frowned at the ISN News van right behind them. “He’s really got no sense of subtlety, does he?” she grumbled.

“You know, I think he’s trying to intimidate us,” Jeph replied. “Because he’s a big scary reporter out to get us. Ohhhh… so scary...” she added, rolling her eyes.

“I think we should have swung by the Eagle first,” Chris commented from Cerulean Edge’s back seat.

Glancing at the green skinned girl in the rear mirror, Nene rolled her eyes. “You’re not shooting up a news van,” she scolded her. “No matter how much Simmons deserves it.”

Eyes widening, Chris gave her a horrified look. “Nene! I would never destroy an innocent vehicle, even if there’s an asshole driving it,” she declared, then smirked. “That’s why I have a glue gun.”

“I’m pretty sure that still wouldn’t look good,” Jeph muttered.

“It’d make me feel better,” Chris replied with a mild pout. That got a laugh out of the other two, before it was interrupted by the Orions ringtone. “Hmm?” she said, picking it up off the seat next to her and frowning at the unfamiliar number.

Frowning, Jeph glanced back at her. “Careful with that. Odds are good your number’s leaked by now,” she warned.

“Fair point, but I’m feeling lucky,” she said, answering the call in speaker mode. “Hello?”

“Is this Captain Chris Wood of the Void Eagle?” asked an unfamiliar voice. Female, clearly irritated at something.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s me. Might I ask who’s calling?” she said.

“Someone you’re probably not happy with right now, and justifiably so. But I think we can help each other deal with a mutual problem. You have an ISN News van following you, containing a rather ethically challenged ‘reporter’ with a bad habit of making up stories that have a rather limited connection to reality.”

Jeph snorted, raising her voice to be heard from the front seat. “He’s damn near tailgating us,” she noted. “I’m really damn tempted to slam on the brakes.”

The mystery woman laughed. “Oh so tempting. How would you like to shut him down hard, for all the ‘Verse to see?”

Turning to look at the phone, Nene raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tamara Barnes, manager of ISNs news division, and that idiots boss… until I rip him apart on system wide television in a few minutes, that is.” Chris scowled, but the woman continued before she could interrupted. “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, and more than a few reasons to actively hate me right now. But we did not approve that idiotic stunt he pulled earlier, and what he did to you is crossing the the line as far as I’m concerned personally. I’d like to make it up to you.”

The three women looked at each other, expressions thoughtful. It was Jeph that spoke first, her voice low and cautious. “What did you have in mind?”

***
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Oh, this is gonna be good.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
Reply
 
Oh, yes.

Meanwhile, Takami and Yuu are complaining to Noah (by telepresence and in person, respectively) that all the smart ISN reporters applied for individual press credentials as soon as they saw the news release - which is what Noah intended.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
Reply
 
Glancing towards the street, the ZNN camerawoman raised an eyebrow at the sight of the completely blue-green Saturn SL turning into the parking lot, then reached over and poked her coworkers shoulder. “Hey, Cindy. Looks like Antilles is here.”

Looking over, the elf nodded in satisfaction. “About time JMC got publicly involved,” Cindy Harris commented as Cerulean Edge made its way towards a parking bay marked ‘reserved’. “I wonder what he’ll talk about. Yesterday or today?” she mused with a faint smirk.

Next to her, Jacob Darby from Outworld News chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Jeph isn’t going to start slamming ISN to the rest of us…” he paused, disbelief settling onto his features, as a van with the ISN News logo on the side pulled into the parking lot as well, skidding to a stop in two spare bays near the lot entrance. “But that assumed that ISN wasn’t sending someone and holy shit,” he continued.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Cindy muttered. “Were they following him? Antilles is going to rip them apart. Whoever they sent to take over for Simmons has to know that.” Glancing back at the JMC car, she winced as two women got out of the front of the car. “Eyup. Antilles shifted. Gee, I wonder how that happened,” she added sarcastically.

Jacob winced. “I enjoy a good scandal as much as the next reporter,” he mused, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I’m kinda wishing I was watching this one from a safe distance. Like, say, Coruscant.” A third figure, small, curvy and green skinned emerged from the back seats of Cerulean Edge, and the man whistled in appreciation. “And that might be both the sexiest, and most horrible, biomod I’ve seen all year,” he commented, taking in the sight of Chris Wood.

“You’re a letch,” his cameraman said, not looking up from where he was running one last check on his camera rig.

“No, I’m simply a heterosexual male,” he replied. “I’m not going to be an ass about it.”

“Speaking of asses,” Cindy whispered, eyes wide. The side door of the van had opened, and John Simmons was climbing out, followed by his cameraman. For a moment, the other reporter crews stared at him, stunned. “His producer used to work for us,” she managed. “Luke’s not this stupid. Simmons has to be doing this on his own, probably against orders from the home office.”

“Guys?” her camerawoman said quietly. “The Orion is smiling.” The other three looked back towards the newly biomodded woman, and while there was more than a hint of irritation and disgust, for the most part her expression was a smile best described as playful as she looked over at the man checking his microphone.

Silently, the two other news crews looked at each other, then darted forward, getting into position for… whatever was coming. “Captain Antilles! Cindy Harris, ZNN Evening News. So far, the Jupiter Mining Corporation has had very little to say publicly regarding the current situation here on Serenity. Sources suggest this is deliberate on your part.”

“And those sources would be correct,” Jeph replied with a smile. “The situation regarding the Professor is a judicial matter, and thus, the responsibility of Mayor Reilly, Sheriff Roberts and their staff. As much as they’re probably wishing otherwise right now,” she added, getting a laugh from Nene.

Cindy raised an eyebrow. “There are those that would argue your status as the Secret Master of Fenspace for Ganymede would make your involvement almost required,” she noted.

Jeph laughed. “Those people need to go look up the term,” she told the reporter. “I’m not a head of state, and I’m certainly not going to go around acting as judge and jury. That’s one of the reasons we worked so hard to create a functioning government for our faction.”

The reporter's ears twitched. “Then why are you here at City Hall today?”

“Mostly, I’m just giving a friend a lift,” she replied, nodding in Chris’s direction.

Shrugging, the small Orion smiled nervously. Both reporters got the impression she really didn’t have much of a poker face right now. “I want to get my bearings a little before trying to drive again,” she admitted. “Just in case.”

“I can see that… Jacob Darby, Outworld News. Captain Wood, your company made a statement a short time ago that you won’t be addressing the media in detail until after you’ve spoken to the Sheriff. So I’m guessing asking you for your thoughts on yesterday's events would be a waste of time,” he noted with a grin.

“Afraid so,” she admitted. “Sorry.”

“Peril of the job,” he said. “So, changing the topic, how are you handling what is, let’s be fair, a rather extreme biomod?”

She gave him a lopsided smile. “I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. I think I’m dealing, more or less, although honesty forces me to admit there’s been some shock, some not-so-manly tears-”

“Mister Antilles!” yelled out a demanding voice.

Both reporters watched as the small womans expression shifted to one of loathing and fury, before eager anticipation took hold. “And here’s a major part of that now,” she muttered.

John Simmons didn’t even seem to notice the other reporters, storming towards Jeph with a determined expression on his face. “Mister Antilles, you owe the public an explanation,” he demanded.

For her part, Jeph turned to face him with a polite smile. “Well good afternoon to you too. I do have to ask though. An explanation for what?”

Simmons gave the woman his best disbelieving expression. “An explanation for your efforts to mislead the public, and your attempt to to suppress the evidence of the Professor’s crimes,” he snapped.

Jeph raised an eyebrow, then looked at her friends. “That doesn’t sound like me,” she commented, sounding rather confused.

Giggling, Chris tucked her hands behind her back. “I think he’s talking about how we snuck past the reporters at the hospital,” she said. “Because obviously, my not wanting to deal with the media right after getting modded is all part of an evil agenda.” Jeph hid her laugh behind a cough as the Orion looked up at Simmons, her smile replaced by a scowl. “Oh, by the way, thank you for not broadcasting your hilariously idiotic and inaccurate report until after I’d managed to call my parents. I’m sure they would have just loved for their first glimpse of my new form to be with a voiceover announcing that I was now a Slave Girl, with a body designed for sexual pleasure.”

Contempt seemed to drip off every word, and the reporter actually backed up a step before regaining his composure. “Miss Wood, the evidence is there for those who know where to look-”

“Captain.”

“I beg your pardon?” the man asked.

“Damn right you should,” Jeph muttered, getting smiles from several of the other reporters.

“The appropriate title is ‘Captain’,” Chris noted. “For both myself and Captain Antilles.” She smirked. “Of course, given you didn’t even do enough research to get the name of my new species right, I suppose that shouldn’t be a shock.”

“I don’t know what you-”

“She’s an Orion,” Cindy said, unable to resist the urge to join in. John glanced at her, then paled slightly as he realised two cameras from the competition were aimed at him and recording. “The concept of the ‘Orion Slave Girl’ is a profession, at best.”

“While we’re on the subject on not doing your research,” Nene added thoughtfully, “my last name is not Romanov. It’s Romanova. It’s a small distinction, but it is an important one.”

Placing one hand on her hip, Chris gave Simmons a thoughtful look. “So, let’s consider your evidence, shall we? You have about thirty seconds of security footage you stole from a hospital-”

Nene snickered. “I’m pretty sure the Sheriff's Office is going to want to talk to you about that,” she noted.

“-and a one minute camera phone video with poor audio,” the Orion continued. “And from that, you were able to determine my mind and personality had been altered, making me nothing more than a sex toy.” Shaking her head, her expression became one of disgust. “Truly, you are a wonder of the Age. Which only a single glance, you can determine all the effects a biomod has on a person. Is it a biomod of your own, or pure skill?”

Simmons face was turning an interesting shade of red. The sight of Cindy and Jacob trying to contain their own amusement certainly didn’t help. “Captain, I’ve spent my career finding the truth,” he growled. “I know a cover up when I find one-”

Snorting, Jeph stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “Ah yes. I’m going to cover up the Professor’s crimes, which he’s already been arrested for, which thanks to some curious AIs, were broadcast across most of the solar system, and was one of this years most watched events.” Leaning forward, she considered the man. “How exactly was I going to cover this up?”

“The only theory I’ve got,” Chris commented, folding her arms under her breasts, “is that after you smuggled me out of the hospital, you were going to make me disappear completely. Well, me, my ship, my daughter, my droid crewmate…” She paused, turning to the ZNN camera and waving. “Hi mum!” she giggled.

Considering that for a moment, Jeph gave Simmons a scowl. “Well? How was I going to cover this up? Do you have any theories on that? Or for that matter, any evidence?” She leaned in closer, meeting the reporter's eyes. “Seriously, do you have any evidence besides two videos with next to no context? Or is this the Turnerite mess all over again, where you’ve got next to nothing to work with, and you’re just making shit up to fill in the blanks?” she asked, voice surprisingly calm.

While Jeph was relatively calm, it was clear they were having an effect on their opponent. “You have no authority over me, oh ‘Secret Master’,” Simmons replied, gritting his teeth. “I answer to the public, and I will present all the evidence to them. So, I suggest you back off and answer my questions.”

Snickering, Nene reached into her pocket. “Oh, I suppose we could play your game,” she commented, taking out a phone. “We could listen to you make wild accusations at us, trying to use drama and shock to make up for the fact you’re talking complete nonsense.” Pressing a button on the phones screen, she looked up at him and smirked. “But I think someone else would like an explanation for your World Weekly News style nonsense.”

Before the man could reply, the phone buzzed, and a small holographic figure appeared. A woman in her apparent mid-twenties, the familiar shape of a Catgirling Machine survivor wrapped in a smart business suit. Eyes widening in recognition, Simmons actually backed away slightly. “For those of you watching on other channels,” Chris said with a smile for the ZNN and Outworld News cameras, “allow me to introduce Tamara Barnes, manager of ISNs news division, and probably the only person angrier with Mister Simmons then me.”

“Probably only by a very small small amount,” Tamara replied, eyes locked on John Simmons horrified face. “Now then John. I was planning on having this discussion with you in private, in my office, as opposed to here, in front of the entire ‘verse. But, since you decided to ignore the emails we sent you, telling you to get back to Venus right the heck now, and instead chased down the Captains here, trying to get us to broadcast your ‘big scoop’, I guess we’ll just have to do it here. Now, what the hell were you thinking?!” she demanded.

“I, I had the story,” the man stammered.

“Oh, you had the story,” the catgirl replied, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a completely unimpressed glare. “And what story would that be? You’ve completely neglected to share it with the studio, after all. All we had before you started this crap was that you’d gotten footage of Captain Wood, and that he was awake. Now, apparently this is a little hard for you to understand, but a requirement of your contract is that not only do you inform us of what you’re planning to report, but you don’t. Lie. To. Us.” The last words came out in a low, furious growl, and she leaned in closer to her employee. “You never mentioned anything about your claims regarding the Professor, your ‘theories’ on the nature of Captain Woods biomod, or that you were going to accuse Captain Antilles of criminal behaviour.”

Simmons face was even redder now, fury grabbing. “Millar wouldn’t have gone for it,” he muttered. “He’s never willing to take a chance, and he’s been listening to the others. We’d miss the story and let someone else grab it because none of you are willing to take chances!” he continued, getting more animated. “You’re all that paranoid about the the Convention shutting you down, you’ll help to suppress the news! Censorship behind a facade of professionalism!” he yelled, completely ignoring the other pair of reporters off to the side, giving each other amazed and horrified looks.

Growling, he leaned in closer to the hologram. “Three years now! Three fucking years! I went looking for the news, and the rest of you idiots decided to back up Suzumiya’s lies and claim I wasn’t doing my job. You tell the entire system I don’t know what I’m doing, and then you stick me with every shit job and bullshit assignment no one else wants!” Any sign of self-control was gone now, angry spittle flying through Tamara’s hologram (On the other side, Nene looked down at her blouse with a horrified expression). “I’ve been the newsrooms whipping boy for three years now, and I’ll be damned if I let you take this away from me because you’re afraid of the Smof’s coming after you!”

In contrast to Simmons ranting, Tamara’s expression was calm and controlled, although her lashing tail betrayed her anger. “We are not an institution of lies, Mister Simmons,” she said, taking care to speak clearly and carefully. “The news is not just a collection of stories, screamed to the public until they believe it. We deal in the truth. And people trust what we say, because we do not abuse that trust. We find the evidence, we put the pieces together. We don’t just make up fiction to fill in the blanks, and we certainly don’t just outright lie.” She smirked coldly. “The purpose of news is to serve mankind. You seem to regard it as some kind of dodge... or hustle. Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy, and your conclusions are highly questionable! You are a poor journalist Mister Simmons.”

The mans froze, his anger interrupted. “What?”

“And you have no business in my department, or at this network,” she concluded. “Good day to you sir.”

“But-”

“I said good day!” she snapped, then vanished.

Smiling, Nene returned the phone to her pocket. “Miss Barnes planned for this development,” she told the stunned looking man. “As your vehicle there, and the equipment in it, are all company property, she asked the Militia to confiscate it to arrange for its return to Venus.” The man spun, looking towards the three rather large Browncoat Militiamen that had walked up while everyone was distracted. “God, it’s all over me,” she grumbled, wiping at the spittle on her blouse. “And as I said earlier, they’d like to ask you some questions about how you came into possession of the security footage that was stolen from MacDonald Memorial Hospital.”

Simmons turned back to her, fury on his face. “You can’t-”

“If you’d reported the truth, honestly and with integrity? No, we couldn’t,” Jeph replied. “And to be honest, we didn’t. Your own boss, and the government that I’m not actually part of, did it all for us.”

“Goodbye,” Chris said with a smile, turning and nodding politely to the other reporters. “I’ll try to talk to you once I’m done with the Sheriff,” she told them, before turning towards City Hall.

Cindy and Jacob watched the trio depart, then looked at where a furious Simmons and a rather baffled cameraman was being led away, then looked at each other. Cindy shrugged slightly, and then the pair turned back to their own cameras. “And that’s the scene here at Ganymede right now,” the Elf said. “While some may criticize ISN, either for letting the situation get to this point, or for confronting one of their employees over his behavior so publicly, I can’t help but feel most of the blame can be aimed at the man that cried Turner.”

“And if nothing else, it’s a reminder to the rest of us,” Jacob continued, “that in this business, our goal must remain the truth. To abandon that, to forget that… well, losing our job would be the least we deserve. From Serenity Valley, this is Jacob Darby, Outworld News, and Cindy Harris, ZNN Evening News.”
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You just gave me an evil idea for managing an actual ongoing conspiracy.....
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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
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OMAKE:

“Captain, I’ve spent my career finding the truth ...”

Noah turned away from the TV and asked Kohran, "I wonder what he does with it when he finds it?"

"He certainly doesn't share it with everyone else."

"Are you still bitter about what he claimed Kaboomite was made from?"

"Of course I am! He said it was 'waved poprocks and cola! Anybody could make that!"

"The story, or the recipe?"

"Both!"
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Hmmm. *HMMM.*

Makes me wonder how badly earth-side media/"news" hates Fen reporters? That they can actually make money with honest reporting instead of heavily slanted hit pieces against whoever the lunatic fringes, left and right, don't like right now?
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll
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If nothing else, the 'news' probably hate Fenspace media. The amount of AIs up there with the resources to prove you're wrong, or just outright lying, are a force in fact-checking and integrity that would make Jon Stewart stand up and bow. Smile
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To say nothing of Momo von Satan and The Cock.
- Grumpy Uncle Gearhead
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"DANE REPORTERS FEAR COCKS TENDER EMBRACE!"
"And there's todays 'image I didn't fucking need...'"
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That rather puts the kibosh on my vague idea for a run-in between Simmons, now working as a correspondent for Fox News, and the Rutley family at a con...
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I'd like to think he becomes Fenspace Loose Change blogger.... the one you leak the truth about your secret mission to while sending the official cover story to Maico Tange or the like. Just to make sure that nobody would ever believe it.....
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