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.”
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.”